Twists of Fate - 2 - The Allies Arrive
Title Twists of Fate - 2 -The Allies Arrive
Author: charlie_bz
Pairing/Characters: Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle, Alfred Pennyworth, Jim Gordon, John Blake
Rating: For mature readers - Later chapters will turn quite dark.
Warnings: see above
Spoilers: Dark Knight Rises
Disclaimer: Dark Knight Rises does not belong to me.
Description: With Selina Kyle by his side, Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham to fulfill his family's legacy. After a brutal crime, he learns that ghosts from Selina's past can no longer be ignored and he must investigate her mysterious past.
Previous Chapter
The Allies Arrive
Gotham politics had always been a dirty game but since it was no dirtier than any other major American city, Jim Gordon didn’t concern himself too much with how the game was played. Except when he was obliged to play along to appease the higher ups which was always a waste of time. The meeting the mayor had forced him to attend today was a perfect example.
An agent from Homeland Security had spent the last two hours lecturing Gotham’s top officials on Disaster Recovery. Gordon figured they had more experience in that area than anyone else in the country but the mayor was courting federal funds and demanded all top officials be present. She specifically ordered Gordon to attend the meeting telling him that she would not accept any made up police emergency excuses. He didn’t need to manufacture emergencies, they happened all on their own without his assistance but, nevertheless, he instructed his staff not to interrupt even if the devil himself showed up.
So when his phone vibrated, he frowned in irritation and slid his hand into his pocket to reject the call. Thirty seconds later when it vibrated again he felt the first spark of concern. As if she sensed his phone going off, the mayor glared at him. He nodded an apology then powered off the phone hoping that the meeting would end soon but the Fed passed out yet another bulky handout to discuss.
Five minutes later, one of the mayor’s assistants discretely beckoned to him from the doorway. Feeling the mayor’s irritated eyes on him, Gordon shook him off. One minute later, the aide walked over and excitedly whispered in his ear: “Bruce Wayne is on the phone!”
Gordon looked at the man, uncomprehending what he heard, but the assistant eagerly nodded clearly in awe at who was calling. Forgetting about incurring the mayor’s displeasure, Gordon rose and quickly exited following the assistant to a desk close to the conference room
“This is Gordon.”
“I need you to send a unit to 352 Riverside. It’s in the warehouse district.”
Gordon turned away from the overly curious aide and quietly asked, “What am I sending my people into, Mr. Wayne?”
“I have no idea.”
“What’s going on?”
A pause. “I don’t know,” he said, roughly. “It’s… personal.”
A simple word from a not so simple man dispelled any hesitation Jim may have had
“I’ll call it in.” Gordon hung up and mumbled something to the waiting aide about an emergency. As he hurried to his car, he called dispatch ordering the closest units to proceed directly to the warehouse district address warning that the situation was unknown and to contact him as soon as officers arrived at the scene.
It had been a long while since Gordon had driven his city issued vehicle with the dashboard light flashing. He sped along the crowded streets feeling simultaneously exhilarated and anxious. He missed working with the masked mystery man who disappeared and appeared like a ghost in the night, missed his partner who shared his fervor to rid Gotham of crime and corruption. Who would have thought that the darling of the tabloids was really the dreaded enemy of Gotham’s criminal underworld
Gordon had never been anxious to discover the identity of Batman. Once he learned that the billionaire, Bruce Wayne, was the man behind the mask, he wasn’t particularly shocked. He remembered the child sitting forlornly at the police station so long ago and the revelation made strange sense to him
Just before Bruce Wayne returned to Gotham, Alfred Pennyworth, whom Gordon hadn’t seen since the funeral, called to give him the news. Gordon perceived the man’s happiness as well as the man’s polite emphasis on Mr. Wayne’s intention to carry on with the family business and nothing else. Gordon was curious why the man chose to return but, then again, he was curious as to the whys of much of what Bruce Wayne did
The papers had been positively gleeful in the second return from the dead story about the Prince of Gotham. Despite himself, Gordon couldn’t resist looking at the photos with the titillating headlines and, each time he did, he felt sad that no one knew the truth and Wayne had to live under such an unsavory and undeserved public reputation. For the first month of his return, the paparazzi had dogged Wayne’s every step trying to capture the current iteration of Gotham’s ever changing prodigal son. It was clear that they hoped for the more interesting Playboy Bruce Wayne to appear but since Wayne did nothing remarkable other than work in his family’s company, the gossip columnists engaged in some pretty wild theories involving mystery women. Gordon was greatly relieved when the paparazzi grew tired of waiting for Wayne to do something interesting and turned their attention elsewhere.
A few weeks after Wayne returned they had bumped into each other in the financial district. Amidst the crowd of passersby, Wayne intimated that the other one was dead and would not be returning. Gordon nodded, wishing he could express the depth of his gratitude to this man whom had accomplished so much, this man with whom he had shared dark secrets, but he had no gift for words and awkwardly wished him well. Bruce smiled and nodded as if he, too, wished to say more. After shaking hands, Gordon watched as he climbed into an understated black Mercedes and drove away. Bruce Wayne was shedding the more ostentatious façade of wealth
The warehouse district was on the other side of the East River in a depressed and mostly deserted part of outer Gotham. A few businesses still existed in the area, mostly salvage and junk dealers, but, for the most part, old and battered For Sale signs lined the streets. He turned onto Riverside Road which was nowhere near the river and saw the flashing lights of two patrol cars in front of a three story brick warehouse that looked like it had been abandoned decades ago. He parked behind one of the patrol cars and as he exited his vehicle, a familiar black Mercedes pulled up behind his car.
“The officers’ initial report is that the building appears to be deserted,” Gordon said by way of greeting.
With Gordon close behind, Bruce hurried toward the large front door that the officers had broken through to enter the premises. As they neared the entrance, a young officer burst outside, gave them a quick apologetic look before vomiting on the sidewalk
The two men exchanged a glance before heading inside, Wayne’s expression was blank but the set of his mouth was familiar.
The warehouse was dark and had that eerie quietness of long abandoned buildings. Gordon called out to the other officers his voice echoing in the darkness.
“Up here, sir!” A male voice responded. “We got a body!”
Wayne pushed past him, running up the stairs toward the sound of the officer’s voice. They made their way through a maze of empty offices until they saw the light of the officer’s flashlight at the end of the hall.
The few windows in the room were clouded by years of grime. As a result, the setting sun provided little illumination but there was enough to see the body that lay on a sheet of plastic. More identification would not be immediately forthcoming as the head had been gruesomely bashed in. Smashed to the extent that what was once a man’s head was now a bloody, pulpy mass of blood, brain, and shattered bone
“Who is that?” Gordon asked.
“I don’t know,” Bruce replied grimly. He turned to the young patrolwoman who was trying her best to hide her disgust. “Did you find anyone else?”
“No, sir,” the officer answered then looked to Gordon, confused about the civilian at the crime scene.
“Who are we looking for?” Gordon asked.
Wayne ran his hand distractedly through his hair as he took in everything in the room. “A woman. Five-eight, long dark hair, brown eyes…”
The description fit the woman Gordon had seen the last time he had seen Batman. Gordon’s recollection of the day Gotham had been saved from the bomb was vivid, the smallest of details not forgotten including the woman whose presence had so surprised him. When he had emerged from the back of the semi, he’d thought to see Batman but instead there she was. He hadn’t known anything about her other than she had helped Batman save the city and then she disappeared. He’d only seen her for a few moments but her features that were visible from the mask were etched in his memory and it pained him to realize that she may have met a violent end.
Another unit arrived. Gordon divided the officers between searching the grounds and the remainder of the warehouse ordering them to stay out of the room with the body and not touch anything. The property was overrun with weeds, trash, and scrap metal, fenced in by a tall chain length fence topped with spirals of barbed wire. A perfect place for unlawful criminal meetings.
Sensing that Wayne wanted to find the woman and disappear, Gordon delayed calling homicide as long as he could. The tabloids would have a field day if they caught a whiff of Bruce Wayne being touched by another violent crime.
As he searched the building, Bruce kept calling a number on his phone, listening vainly for the sound of a phone ringing or vibrating. They confirmed that there was no one else in the building then joined the other officers searching the empty lot.
Gordon studied the derelict building, glad to be on the outside and away from that body. The sun was close to setting, daylight savings hadn’t hit yet, and when the sun shone against the east side of the building, he saw a smear of blood over one of the second story windows.
“Mr. Wayne.” He pointed up to the window.
They both discerned more smudges of red against the faded brick and rushed back upstairs to the third floor. Gordon looked for roof access as Wayne pushed open the second story window and climbed through following the blood trail up the side of the building.
Gordon soon found a panel that would open onto the roof. Sliding a dusty metal desk under the panel, he pushed his way through and when he emerged onto the roof heard Wayne cry out, “Selina!”
A woman was slumped in the narrow space between a pair of battered, dirty HVAC units, her head sagging down so that her chin rested on her chest, a cell phone on the roof beside her.
Wayne gently touched her bloody face, whispering to her. She did not respond
Gordon decided to be optimistic and called for an ambulance. He just couldn’t imagine that Bruce Wayne would lose someone like this and that Gordon would have to be present as he lost another person important to him.
The woman had hidden well and it was difficult to get her out of the cramped space without causing more damage. He helped Bruce gently pull her out of the tight space and laid her out on the roof
Her face was covered with blood, one eye on its way to be swollen shut, her hands were also bloody, so bloody he almost didn’t notice that one of her hands, which had been nestled protectively in her black leather jacket, had been smashed
Bruce touched her neck feeling for a pulse. “She’s alive,” he said, as much to Gordon as to himself. He smoothed her hair back from her head, assessing her many injuries, frowning as he stared at her mangled hand.
“The ambulance will be here soon. Let’s get her downstairs,” Gordon said quietly
Gordon climbed down through the access and Bruce, as gently as possible, lowered her through the narrow panel to Gordon’s waiting arms. He jumped down and took her from him. Holding her close, he carried her down the stairs.
As they waited for the ambulance, Gordon anxiously scanned the area looking for any sign of the media, hoping that a body found in the warehouse district wasn’t enough to draw the attention of the evening news
“I’ll take care of your car,” Gordon said later as Bruce climbed into the ambulance. Bruce tossed him the keys, his fingers red with blood
As soon as the ambulance pulled away, Gordon called homicide. The officer who had thrown up earlier stood beside the front door looking as if the last thing he wanted to do was go back in but Gordon ordered him to round up everyone and to stay away from the body upstairs. With any luck, the crime scene hadn’t been compromised too badly by the search.
“Was that who I think it was?” John Blake asked, coming up from behind him. “I heard your name on the police radio and thought I could help.”
“This doesn’t concern you, Blake. Off you go.”
"It was him, right?”
Instead of answering, Gordon gave the officers who gathered outside a clear message that the civilian who just left needn’t appear on any report. Each and every one of the officers received a long, steady look in the eye to emphasize his point. Most had never dealt with the commissioner before and were new enough to the force that they wouldn’t dare disobey. Still, a few gave him a disbelieving look like they couldn’t believe he, of all people, would bow down to Gotham’s elite. Gordon hated that no one here knew who this man was and what he had done for their city
Blake stood behind him in a manner that suggested he had a right to. Which he did not.
“This is a crime scene, son. Bystanders can stay here,” Gordon said gruffly before reentering the warehouse.
“Come on, Commissioner,” John said, following him. “You’re not still mad about that?”
“There’s a way to do things and a way not to. If you would’ve stuck with being a detective, you would’ve known that.” Gordon ascended the stairs wanting to get a last look at that room before Homicide arrived
“So why was he here?” John asked.
He was uncomfortable discussing Bruce Wayne with anyone even John Blake yet he wanted Blake here, someone to appreciate and understand the whys of Gotham’s police commissioner concealing evidence. They reached the room with the body so he didn’t bother answering John since Blake would figure out the whys soon enough.
This time when Gordon entered the room, he was prepared for the gruesome sight of the dead man. Unlike Blake who muttered a horrified, “Jesus” then dispensed with the questions. With the eye of a detective, Gordon surveyed the room searching more for something that might connect this horrible scene to Bruce Wayne than evidence to the crime. Let homicide deal with the body, he told himself, he would do his best to shield his friend from his life being scrutinized too closely.
Other than broken glass that littered the floor the only other objects were an overturned metal chair and an old metal desk against the wall
“If our friend wasn’t involved, I would think this is a drug deal gone bad.” Blake squatted beside the body pointing at the corpse’s arms. “Track marks. Long time user by the looks of him. Shouldn’t be too tough to ID this guy.”
Blake lifted his gaze, his brow furrowed as he saw something of interest. Reaching under the metal desk, he held up a set of keys.
Since one of the keys on the ring was for a very expensive car, Gordon assumed they belonged to Bruce Wayne’s friend. As Blake held them up, he could see the flecks of blood and tissue
“Looks like these were used as a weapon,” Blake said. “Who was in the ambulance, Commissioner?”
Gordon sighed, “A woman friend of his. Someone important to him.” He looked at Blake steadily willing the young man to understand why he was doing what he was doing. He reached for the keys, pushing aside the guilt that he was about to remove evidence from a crime scene.
Blake spared him, pocketing them himself. “Seems a waste to throw out all the effort he’s been making to keep a low profile because of his girlfriend.&rdquo
The way Blake said ‘girlfriend’ caught his attention.
“Don’t jump to conclusions, hotshot,” Gordon said.
“Don’t you know who that woman is, Commissioner?”
“I do,” Gordon looked at him carefully. “Do you?”
“I’m just saying she’s not…an innocent.”
Gordon sighed again and looked around the room. “Who is, Mr. Blake? Who is?”
________________________________________________________________________________________
When Homicide arrived, Blake cringed to see who the lead detective was. Detective Jessica Massey was Homicide’s rising star and the worst possible detective they wanted on this case. She was notorious for her hatred of cold cases, doing everything she could to solve the crime and keep her close rate the highest in the department. She was also a friend.
“Jess! Missed you last Friday at Gallagher’s. Heard you had a date.”
“Yeah. With a corpse,” she sighed. It was a joke that someone as pretty as Jessica had a terrible love life. “Seems like those are my only dates nowadays. And here’s my newest one.”
Her face betrayed no emotion as she examined the body. “Why are you here?” She asked without looking up.
“I was in the neighborhood,” he replied then decided it best to leave her before she asked him more questions
The Commissioner followed him down the stairs.
ldquo;What do you need me to do, Commissioner?” John Blake asked as they walked outside, eager to help with what he knew would be a touchy situation to Jim Gordon.
“You can take him his car,” Gordon passed another set of keys to Blake
Blake started to protest feeling he deserved a more important job than delivery boy but quieted as Jessica approached them
“Well, that guy pissed off someone in the worst way,” she said as she slipped off her latex gloves. “I understand someone was removed from the crime scene.”
“Yes,” Gordon said. “She’s been transported to Gotham General. I doubt you’ll get much information from her.”
“We’ll see, Commissioner,” she replied, looking at him closely
“She was in pretty bad shape. I’m not sure when she will be well enough to question her.”
“I can wait. Frankly, I’m just tickled pink I might have a witness. This thing smells like a drug deal gone bad so it’ll be great if I can actually talk to somebody.”
“What have you got so far, detective?” Gordon asked.
“The way I see it, there was a helluva fight up there but that plastic makes me think this might have been planned. My guess is that the perp did not intend for a body to be found. Something scared him or her off…maybe the cops. Who were called by whom exactly?”
“The victim, you think?” Blake asked, wanting to put off the inevitable as long as he could. Jess would find out the truth soon enough.
“Victim? You sure?”
“How would we know?” Blake shrugged then grinned his flirtiest grin. He liked Jessica, had gone out drinking with her and a few other friends from the force many times over the years
“Uh huh,” she muttered, smelling a rat. “So what brings you here, Commissioner?”
“A crime, detective,” Gordon answered, his tone reminding her who he was
She got the message but Blake knew Jess. A spark had been lit in that investigator brain of hers. The Commissioner’s presence at the homicide of an apparent junkie was definitely odd.
With a look to John, the Commissioner went back inside the warehouse
Jess gazed at Blake, her eyes narrowing as she waited for him to level with her. He didn’t. He couldn’t even if he wanted to; it just wasn’t his information to give.
“Whose Mercedes is that?” She finally asked.
“Mine for today,” Blake said, reaching in his pocket to jingle the keys before remembering that one set had blood on them.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Since when does a bounty hunter afford a hundred thousand dollar Benz?”
“Hey, business is booming!”
“I bet. Well, whoever that belongs to, you better get it back or it’s gonna get stripped. Even with all the cops around.”
The commotion had attracted a few vagrants who were eyeing the expensive car. The rims alone would fetch a nice sum.
“So, Jessica, buy you a beer later?” Blake called out as he headed toward Wayne’s car. “How about when you’re through here? I know a great new bar over on 15th.”
“Don’t you have any lost dogs to find?” She smirked, enjoying their usual flirty banter. “Besides, it’s Tuesday. Some of us have regular jobs, you know.”
“Every day is Friday for me, Jess.” John watched her walk away then proceeded to talk to a few of the bums who milled about the scene, asking about what they had seen. Once he was confident no one had witnessed Wayne enter the premises, he slid into the car and took off.
As he crossed the bridge to Central Gotham, Alfred called asking him to come by the penthouse to pick up clothes for Master Wayne and to make certain that his vehicle was returned in the shape he found it in. Between the Commissioner and Alfred, John was starting to feel like an errand boy.
For Bruce Wayne, Blake gladly accepted whatever jobs helped him. He was, after all, his mentor even if the guy didn’t want to acknowledge it
Blake had been very curious when Bruce Wayne returned to Gotham so he kept tabs on him, “accidentally” running into him, getting him to buy him a burger at what passed for a cheap joint in the expensive hotel Bruce owned and lived in. The fifty dollar burger was good, better than the conversation as Blake told Bruce about what he’d been up to, making some money as a private detective, making even more money as a skip tracer and making no money at his other ‘job’. Bruce gazed at him in a way that Blake couldn’t figure out if he approved or not
As far as John could see, Bruce Wayne had become boring. Well, almost as boring as when he decided to stay in his house for years. All John Blake could see was that that the man worked then went home to his luxury penthouse at the top of his luxury hotel. Then late one night a few months ago, he saw him with a woman and Blake was shocked to see that it was none other than Selina Kyle. The last he’d seen of her was when he had escorted her to the MCU for booking
As he pulled into the parking garage at Gotham General, he thought about the woman he had always suspected had something to do with Bruce’s disappearance just before Bane took over the city. It didn’t make sense to him to see them together so he checked to see what she’d been up to the last few years and received another shock: there was no mention of her in any database he searched. He knew without a doubt that the woman had quite a record but he couldn’t find evidence of her existing at all. Even though he knew what he’d find, he went to the station to look at her paper file and wasn’t surprised to find that her very large file had gone missing but that wasn’t nearly as big a mystery since at the time of Bane most police station records had been destroyed
And here she was possibly wreaking more havoc on Bruce Wayne’s life
The route to the emergency room was all too familiar to Blake. He quickly found Bruce Wayne arguing with a hospital administrator.
“Don’t say the word insurance to me again!” Bruce almost yelled at the middle aged woman in crumpled business clothes.
“Sir, this is not a charity hospital,” she responded patronizingly. “We need to get her over to St. Theresa’s. These beds are for insured patients.”
“Lady,” Blake interjected. “Do you know who this is? The bills will get paid, trust me.”
She gave him a look, taking in his scruffy attire, and promptly dismissed him.
“Sir,” she said to Bruce. “You aren’t even a family member. You have no legal right to make decisions for this person. We don’t accept ‘boyfriend’ as a recognized legal status.&rdquo
A man in a business suit quickly approached, shaking Bruce’s hand, apologizing profusely. He identified himself as the hospital administrator before admonishing the woman whose face was now red with anger and embarrassment. Apparently deciding she couldn’t get away with being rude to Bruce Wayne, she glared hatefully at John before stalking off in a huff.
As the man stammered more apologies, a team of medical personnel soon appeared and wheeled Selina out of the emergency room and into a waiting elevator. The administrator gestured for Bruce to proceed to another elevator. Without being asked, Blake followed them, both Bruce and John ignored the babblings of the nervous man.
They emerged on a floor Blake had yet to visit. It was an exclusive part of the hospital that Blake never knew existed. The hustle and bustle of the emergency seemed very far away. The administrator led them into a comfortable waiting room. He offered coffee and looked like he was about to sit down to wait with them. Bruce gave Blake a quick nod of his head and John, with very little diplomacy, told the guy to get lost.
“Alfred sent you some clothes,” he said, after the man left. He handed Bruce the leather bag Alfred had sent. Wayne was a mess; his suit was smeared with blood, his white shirt had a huge red circle from chest to belly, dried blood on his neck. “You should get cleaned up.”
“Yeah,” Bruce said absently as he took the bag
Five minutes later, he came out of the bathroom wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. He stuffed his suit in the large trash can by the door.
“What happened?” John asked as Bruce sat down next to him.
“I don’t know,” he said, sounding sick of saying that.
“Why was she there? Who’s the dead guy?”
Bruce glared at him.
“The homicide detective thinks it’s a drug deal gone bad. The John Doe has the look of a heroin addict.”
“Track marks on his arms,” John explained at Bruce’s questioning look.
“I didn’t notice that.”
“Yeah, I guess not. Are these hers?” He held up the keys he had retrieved from the crime scene.
Bruce looked at them for a moment, taking in the blood and tissue that clung to them. “Yes,” he said taking them.
“Looks like she used them to defend herself,” Blake said quietly though he was pleased they were hers. On the drive over, he worried that he may have unnecessarily tampered with evidence.
Bruce nodded then leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at the keys.
ldquo;I talked to some of the bums in the area but they didn’t see anything. Didn’t see any cars coming or going. Didn’t see you. I’m friends with the detective in charge, Jessica Massey…” Jess was a straight up cop but John thought he might be able to convince her to not look too closely at things Bruce didn’t want looked into. “What can I do to help?”
“Don’t prevent her from doing her job.” Bruce gave him a steady look
“She’s gonna want to talk to…her…Selina.”
“If she’s a good detective she will.”
“Wait,” Blake just realized something. “How did she get there? Selina, I mean. Other than your car and the cop cars, there was nothing. No buses go to that part of town.”
Bruce didn’t respond. The room was quiet as they waited. Bruce stayed perfectly still while Blake fidgeted, fingers drumming on his knee, getting up and walking around before sitting back down.
Then he started talking, telling Bruce more about what he’d been up to. When they met the first time, he’d left out a good bit of details including getting in trouble with Gordon. He knew he was babbling but sitting in silence never worked well with him. He also got the feeling he was wearing out his welcome but he didn’t want to leave Bruce alone
Bruce slid his phone out of his pocket then made a call. He gave Alfred Selina’s status, telling him she was in surgery and that they hadn’t heard from a doctor yet. With a quick look to John, he walked outside the waiting room. Blake watched him through the big glass window, surprised to see his face change, opening up, smiling as he talked. He didn’t think he was talking to Alfred
As Bruce talked, Blake received a text message from Alfred telling him it was okay to leave Mr. Wayne alone. The old guy thought of everything.
“What can I do?” Blake asked when Bruce returned.
Bruce checked his phone, accessing the GPS function, then showed Blake a map with a blinking blue dot. The dot was at the Gotham Promenade Shopping Mall.
“You want me to go shopping?”
“No, I want you to get her car.” He reached into his pocket and took out the bloody keys. He looked at them before taking one of the keys of the ring. He also gave him cash to call a taxi after he dropped off her car telling him to take a cab home. He emphasized home with a look letting Blake know he didn’t want him returning to the hospital.
“I get it,” Blake said. On the way out, he paused by the door. “The Commissioner and me? We just want to help you.”
Next chapter
________________________________________________________________________________
A/N: At this point, I’m sure many of you are thinking that for a Bruce and Selina story there sure isn’t a lot of Bruce and Selina. Just know that the last two chapters were setting up the story. While Selina is going to be unconscious for awhile, the story centers on her and her relationship with Bruce. Thank you for reading!
Author: charlie_bz
Pairing/Characters: Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle, Alfred Pennyworth, Jim Gordon, John Blake
Rating: For mature readers - Later chapters will turn quite dark.
Warnings: see above
Spoilers: Dark Knight Rises
Disclaimer: Dark Knight Rises does not belong to me.
Description: With Selina Kyle by his side, Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham to fulfill his family's legacy. After a brutal crime, he learns that ghosts from Selina's past can no longer be ignored and he must investigate her mysterious past.
Previous Chapter
The Allies Arrive
Gotham politics had always been a dirty game but since it was no dirtier than any other major American city, Jim Gordon didn’t concern himself too much with how the game was played. Except when he was obliged to play along to appease the higher ups which was always a waste of time. The meeting the mayor had forced him to attend today was a perfect example.
An agent from Homeland Security had spent the last two hours lecturing Gotham’s top officials on Disaster Recovery. Gordon figured they had more experience in that area than anyone else in the country but the mayor was courting federal funds and demanded all top officials be present. She specifically ordered Gordon to attend the meeting telling him that she would not accept any made up police emergency excuses. He didn’t need to manufacture emergencies, they happened all on their own without his assistance but, nevertheless, he instructed his staff not to interrupt even if the devil himself showed up.
So when his phone vibrated, he frowned in irritation and slid his hand into his pocket to reject the call. Thirty seconds later when it vibrated again he felt the first spark of concern. As if she sensed his phone going off, the mayor glared at him. He nodded an apology then powered off the phone hoping that the meeting would end soon but the Fed passed out yet another bulky handout to discuss.
Five minutes later, one of the mayor’s assistants discretely beckoned to him from the doorway. Feeling the mayor’s irritated eyes on him, Gordon shook him off. One minute later, the aide walked over and excitedly whispered in his ear: “Bruce Wayne is on the phone!”
Gordon looked at the man, uncomprehending what he heard, but the assistant eagerly nodded clearly in awe at who was calling. Forgetting about incurring the mayor’s displeasure, Gordon rose and quickly exited following the assistant to a desk close to the conference room
“This is Gordon.”
“I need you to send a unit to 352 Riverside. It’s in the warehouse district.”
Gordon turned away from the overly curious aide and quietly asked, “What am I sending my people into, Mr. Wayne?”
“I have no idea.”
“What’s going on?”
A pause. “I don’t know,” he said, roughly. “It’s… personal.”
A simple word from a not so simple man dispelled any hesitation Jim may have had
“I’ll call it in.” Gordon hung up and mumbled something to the waiting aide about an emergency. As he hurried to his car, he called dispatch ordering the closest units to proceed directly to the warehouse district address warning that the situation was unknown and to contact him as soon as officers arrived at the scene.
It had been a long while since Gordon had driven his city issued vehicle with the dashboard light flashing. He sped along the crowded streets feeling simultaneously exhilarated and anxious. He missed working with the masked mystery man who disappeared and appeared like a ghost in the night, missed his partner who shared his fervor to rid Gotham of crime and corruption. Who would have thought that the darling of the tabloids was really the dreaded enemy of Gotham’s criminal underworld
Gordon had never been anxious to discover the identity of Batman. Once he learned that the billionaire, Bruce Wayne, was the man behind the mask, he wasn’t particularly shocked. He remembered the child sitting forlornly at the police station so long ago and the revelation made strange sense to him
Just before Bruce Wayne returned to Gotham, Alfred Pennyworth, whom Gordon hadn’t seen since the funeral, called to give him the news. Gordon perceived the man’s happiness as well as the man’s polite emphasis on Mr. Wayne’s intention to carry on with the family business and nothing else. Gordon was curious why the man chose to return but, then again, he was curious as to the whys of much of what Bruce Wayne did
The papers had been positively gleeful in the second return from the dead story about the Prince of Gotham. Despite himself, Gordon couldn’t resist looking at the photos with the titillating headlines and, each time he did, he felt sad that no one knew the truth and Wayne had to live under such an unsavory and undeserved public reputation. For the first month of his return, the paparazzi had dogged Wayne’s every step trying to capture the current iteration of Gotham’s ever changing prodigal son. It was clear that they hoped for the more interesting Playboy Bruce Wayne to appear but since Wayne did nothing remarkable other than work in his family’s company, the gossip columnists engaged in some pretty wild theories involving mystery women. Gordon was greatly relieved when the paparazzi grew tired of waiting for Wayne to do something interesting and turned their attention elsewhere.
A few weeks after Wayne returned they had bumped into each other in the financial district. Amidst the crowd of passersby, Wayne intimated that the other one was dead and would not be returning. Gordon nodded, wishing he could express the depth of his gratitude to this man whom had accomplished so much, this man with whom he had shared dark secrets, but he had no gift for words and awkwardly wished him well. Bruce smiled and nodded as if he, too, wished to say more. After shaking hands, Gordon watched as he climbed into an understated black Mercedes and drove away. Bruce Wayne was shedding the more ostentatious façade of wealth
The warehouse district was on the other side of the East River in a depressed and mostly deserted part of outer Gotham. A few businesses still existed in the area, mostly salvage and junk dealers, but, for the most part, old and battered For Sale signs lined the streets. He turned onto Riverside Road which was nowhere near the river and saw the flashing lights of two patrol cars in front of a three story brick warehouse that looked like it had been abandoned decades ago. He parked behind one of the patrol cars and as he exited his vehicle, a familiar black Mercedes pulled up behind his car.
“The officers’ initial report is that the building appears to be deserted,” Gordon said by way of greeting.
With Gordon close behind, Bruce hurried toward the large front door that the officers had broken through to enter the premises. As they neared the entrance, a young officer burst outside, gave them a quick apologetic look before vomiting on the sidewalk
The two men exchanged a glance before heading inside, Wayne’s expression was blank but the set of his mouth was familiar.
The warehouse was dark and had that eerie quietness of long abandoned buildings. Gordon called out to the other officers his voice echoing in the darkness.
“Up here, sir!” A male voice responded. “We got a body!”
Wayne pushed past him, running up the stairs toward the sound of the officer’s voice. They made their way through a maze of empty offices until they saw the light of the officer’s flashlight at the end of the hall.
The few windows in the room were clouded by years of grime. As a result, the setting sun provided little illumination but there was enough to see the body that lay on a sheet of plastic. More identification would not be immediately forthcoming as the head had been gruesomely bashed in. Smashed to the extent that what was once a man’s head was now a bloody, pulpy mass of blood, brain, and shattered bone
“Who is that?” Gordon asked.
“I don’t know,” Bruce replied grimly. He turned to the young patrolwoman who was trying her best to hide her disgust. “Did you find anyone else?”
“No, sir,” the officer answered then looked to Gordon, confused about the civilian at the crime scene.
“Who are we looking for?” Gordon asked.
Wayne ran his hand distractedly through his hair as he took in everything in the room. “A woman. Five-eight, long dark hair, brown eyes…”
The description fit the woman Gordon had seen the last time he had seen Batman. Gordon’s recollection of the day Gotham had been saved from the bomb was vivid, the smallest of details not forgotten including the woman whose presence had so surprised him. When he had emerged from the back of the semi, he’d thought to see Batman but instead there she was. He hadn’t known anything about her other than she had helped Batman save the city and then she disappeared. He’d only seen her for a few moments but her features that were visible from the mask were etched in his memory and it pained him to realize that she may have met a violent end.
Another unit arrived. Gordon divided the officers between searching the grounds and the remainder of the warehouse ordering them to stay out of the room with the body and not touch anything. The property was overrun with weeds, trash, and scrap metal, fenced in by a tall chain length fence topped with spirals of barbed wire. A perfect place for unlawful criminal meetings.
Sensing that Wayne wanted to find the woman and disappear, Gordon delayed calling homicide as long as he could. The tabloids would have a field day if they caught a whiff of Bruce Wayne being touched by another violent crime.
As he searched the building, Bruce kept calling a number on his phone, listening vainly for the sound of a phone ringing or vibrating. They confirmed that there was no one else in the building then joined the other officers searching the empty lot.
Gordon studied the derelict building, glad to be on the outside and away from that body. The sun was close to setting, daylight savings hadn’t hit yet, and when the sun shone against the east side of the building, he saw a smear of blood over one of the second story windows.
“Mr. Wayne.” He pointed up to the window.
They both discerned more smudges of red against the faded brick and rushed back upstairs to the third floor. Gordon looked for roof access as Wayne pushed open the second story window and climbed through following the blood trail up the side of the building.
Gordon soon found a panel that would open onto the roof. Sliding a dusty metal desk under the panel, he pushed his way through and when he emerged onto the roof heard Wayne cry out, “Selina!”
A woman was slumped in the narrow space between a pair of battered, dirty HVAC units, her head sagging down so that her chin rested on her chest, a cell phone on the roof beside her.
Wayne gently touched her bloody face, whispering to her. She did not respond
Gordon decided to be optimistic and called for an ambulance. He just couldn’t imagine that Bruce Wayne would lose someone like this and that Gordon would have to be present as he lost another person important to him.
The woman had hidden well and it was difficult to get her out of the cramped space without causing more damage. He helped Bruce gently pull her out of the tight space and laid her out on the roof
Her face was covered with blood, one eye on its way to be swollen shut, her hands were also bloody, so bloody he almost didn’t notice that one of her hands, which had been nestled protectively in her black leather jacket, had been smashed
Bruce touched her neck feeling for a pulse. “She’s alive,” he said, as much to Gordon as to himself. He smoothed her hair back from her head, assessing her many injuries, frowning as he stared at her mangled hand.
“The ambulance will be here soon. Let’s get her downstairs,” Gordon said quietly
Gordon climbed down through the access and Bruce, as gently as possible, lowered her through the narrow panel to Gordon’s waiting arms. He jumped down and took her from him. Holding her close, he carried her down the stairs.
As they waited for the ambulance, Gordon anxiously scanned the area looking for any sign of the media, hoping that a body found in the warehouse district wasn’t enough to draw the attention of the evening news
“I’ll take care of your car,” Gordon said later as Bruce climbed into the ambulance. Bruce tossed him the keys, his fingers red with blood
As soon as the ambulance pulled away, Gordon called homicide. The officer who had thrown up earlier stood beside the front door looking as if the last thing he wanted to do was go back in but Gordon ordered him to round up everyone and to stay away from the body upstairs. With any luck, the crime scene hadn’t been compromised too badly by the search.
“Was that who I think it was?” John Blake asked, coming up from behind him. “I heard your name on the police radio and thought I could help.”
“This doesn’t concern you, Blake. Off you go.”
"It was him, right?”
Instead of answering, Gordon gave the officers who gathered outside a clear message that the civilian who just left needn’t appear on any report. Each and every one of the officers received a long, steady look in the eye to emphasize his point. Most had never dealt with the commissioner before and were new enough to the force that they wouldn’t dare disobey. Still, a few gave him a disbelieving look like they couldn’t believe he, of all people, would bow down to Gotham’s elite. Gordon hated that no one here knew who this man was and what he had done for their city
Blake stood behind him in a manner that suggested he had a right to. Which he did not.
“This is a crime scene, son. Bystanders can stay here,” Gordon said gruffly before reentering the warehouse.
“Come on, Commissioner,” John said, following him. “You’re not still mad about that?”
“There’s a way to do things and a way not to. If you would’ve stuck with being a detective, you would’ve known that.” Gordon ascended the stairs wanting to get a last look at that room before Homicide arrived
“So why was he here?” John asked.
He was uncomfortable discussing Bruce Wayne with anyone even John Blake yet he wanted Blake here, someone to appreciate and understand the whys of Gotham’s police commissioner concealing evidence. They reached the room with the body so he didn’t bother answering John since Blake would figure out the whys soon enough.
This time when Gordon entered the room, he was prepared for the gruesome sight of the dead man. Unlike Blake who muttered a horrified, “Jesus” then dispensed with the questions. With the eye of a detective, Gordon surveyed the room searching more for something that might connect this horrible scene to Bruce Wayne than evidence to the crime. Let homicide deal with the body, he told himself, he would do his best to shield his friend from his life being scrutinized too closely.
Other than broken glass that littered the floor the only other objects were an overturned metal chair and an old metal desk against the wall
“If our friend wasn’t involved, I would think this is a drug deal gone bad.” Blake squatted beside the body pointing at the corpse’s arms. “Track marks. Long time user by the looks of him. Shouldn’t be too tough to ID this guy.”
Blake lifted his gaze, his brow furrowed as he saw something of interest. Reaching under the metal desk, he held up a set of keys.
Since one of the keys on the ring was for a very expensive car, Gordon assumed they belonged to Bruce Wayne’s friend. As Blake held them up, he could see the flecks of blood and tissue
“Looks like these were used as a weapon,” Blake said. “Who was in the ambulance, Commissioner?”
Gordon sighed, “A woman friend of his. Someone important to him.” He looked at Blake steadily willing the young man to understand why he was doing what he was doing. He reached for the keys, pushing aside the guilt that he was about to remove evidence from a crime scene.
Blake spared him, pocketing them himself. “Seems a waste to throw out all the effort he’s been making to keep a low profile because of his girlfriend.&rdquo
The way Blake said ‘girlfriend’ caught his attention.
“Don’t jump to conclusions, hotshot,” Gordon said.
“Don’t you know who that woman is, Commissioner?”
“I do,” Gordon looked at him carefully. “Do you?”
“I’m just saying she’s not…an innocent.”
Gordon sighed again and looked around the room. “Who is, Mr. Blake? Who is?”
________________________________________________________________________________________
When Homicide arrived, Blake cringed to see who the lead detective was. Detective Jessica Massey was Homicide’s rising star and the worst possible detective they wanted on this case. She was notorious for her hatred of cold cases, doing everything she could to solve the crime and keep her close rate the highest in the department. She was also a friend.
“Jess! Missed you last Friday at Gallagher’s. Heard you had a date.”
“Yeah. With a corpse,” she sighed. It was a joke that someone as pretty as Jessica had a terrible love life. “Seems like those are my only dates nowadays. And here’s my newest one.”
Her face betrayed no emotion as she examined the body. “Why are you here?” She asked without looking up.
“I was in the neighborhood,” he replied then decided it best to leave her before she asked him more questions
The Commissioner followed him down the stairs.
ldquo;What do you need me to do, Commissioner?” John Blake asked as they walked outside, eager to help with what he knew would be a touchy situation to Jim Gordon.
“You can take him his car,” Gordon passed another set of keys to Blake
Blake started to protest feeling he deserved a more important job than delivery boy but quieted as Jessica approached them
“Well, that guy pissed off someone in the worst way,” she said as she slipped off her latex gloves. “I understand someone was removed from the crime scene.”
“Yes,” Gordon said. “She’s been transported to Gotham General. I doubt you’ll get much information from her.”
“We’ll see, Commissioner,” she replied, looking at him closely
“She was in pretty bad shape. I’m not sure when she will be well enough to question her.”
“I can wait. Frankly, I’m just tickled pink I might have a witness. This thing smells like a drug deal gone bad so it’ll be great if I can actually talk to somebody.”
“What have you got so far, detective?” Gordon asked.
“The way I see it, there was a helluva fight up there but that plastic makes me think this might have been planned. My guess is that the perp did not intend for a body to be found. Something scared him or her off…maybe the cops. Who were called by whom exactly?”
“The victim, you think?” Blake asked, wanting to put off the inevitable as long as he could. Jess would find out the truth soon enough.
“Victim? You sure?”
“How would we know?” Blake shrugged then grinned his flirtiest grin. He liked Jessica, had gone out drinking with her and a few other friends from the force many times over the years
“Uh huh,” she muttered, smelling a rat. “So what brings you here, Commissioner?”
“A crime, detective,” Gordon answered, his tone reminding her who he was
She got the message but Blake knew Jess. A spark had been lit in that investigator brain of hers. The Commissioner’s presence at the homicide of an apparent junkie was definitely odd.
With a look to John, the Commissioner went back inside the warehouse
Jess gazed at Blake, her eyes narrowing as she waited for him to level with her. He didn’t. He couldn’t even if he wanted to; it just wasn’t his information to give.
“Whose Mercedes is that?” She finally asked.
“Mine for today,” Blake said, reaching in his pocket to jingle the keys before remembering that one set had blood on them.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Since when does a bounty hunter afford a hundred thousand dollar Benz?”
“Hey, business is booming!”
“I bet. Well, whoever that belongs to, you better get it back or it’s gonna get stripped. Even with all the cops around.”
The commotion had attracted a few vagrants who were eyeing the expensive car. The rims alone would fetch a nice sum.
“So, Jessica, buy you a beer later?” Blake called out as he headed toward Wayne’s car. “How about when you’re through here? I know a great new bar over on 15th.”
“Don’t you have any lost dogs to find?” She smirked, enjoying their usual flirty banter. “Besides, it’s Tuesday. Some of us have regular jobs, you know.”
“Every day is Friday for me, Jess.” John watched her walk away then proceeded to talk to a few of the bums who milled about the scene, asking about what they had seen. Once he was confident no one had witnessed Wayne enter the premises, he slid into the car and took off.
As he crossed the bridge to Central Gotham, Alfred called asking him to come by the penthouse to pick up clothes for Master Wayne and to make certain that his vehicle was returned in the shape he found it in. Between the Commissioner and Alfred, John was starting to feel like an errand boy.
For Bruce Wayne, Blake gladly accepted whatever jobs helped him. He was, after all, his mentor even if the guy didn’t want to acknowledge it
Blake had been very curious when Bruce Wayne returned to Gotham so he kept tabs on him, “accidentally” running into him, getting him to buy him a burger at what passed for a cheap joint in the expensive hotel Bruce owned and lived in. The fifty dollar burger was good, better than the conversation as Blake told Bruce about what he’d been up to, making some money as a private detective, making even more money as a skip tracer and making no money at his other ‘job’. Bruce gazed at him in a way that Blake couldn’t figure out if he approved or not
As far as John could see, Bruce Wayne had become boring. Well, almost as boring as when he decided to stay in his house for years. All John Blake could see was that that the man worked then went home to his luxury penthouse at the top of his luxury hotel. Then late one night a few months ago, he saw him with a woman and Blake was shocked to see that it was none other than Selina Kyle. The last he’d seen of her was when he had escorted her to the MCU for booking
As he pulled into the parking garage at Gotham General, he thought about the woman he had always suspected had something to do with Bruce’s disappearance just before Bane took over the city. It didn’t make sense to him to see them together so he checked to see what she’d been up to the last few years and received another shock: there was no mention of her in any database he searched. He knew without a doubt that the woman had quite a record but he couldn’t find evidence of her existing at all. Even though he knew what he’d find, he went to the station to look at her paper file and wasn’t surprised to find that her very large file had gone missing but that wasn’t nearly as big a mystery since at the time of Bane most police station records had been destroyed
And here she was possibly wreaking more havoc on Bruce Wayne’s life
The route to the emergency room was all too familiar to Blake. He quickly found Bruce Wayne arguing with a hospital administrator.
“Don’t say the word insurance to me again!” Bruce almost yelled at the middle aged woman in crumpled business clothes.
“Sir, this is not a charity hospital,” she responded patronizingly. “We need to get her over to St. Theresa’s. These beds are for insured patients.”
“Lady,” Blake interjected. “Do you know who this is? The bills will get paid, trust me.”
She gave him a look, taking in his scruffy attire, and promptly dismissed him.
“Sir,” she said to Bruce. “You aren’t even a family member. You have no legal right to make decisions for this person. We don’t accept ‘boyfriend’ as a recognized legal status.&rdquo
A man in a business suit quickly approached, shaking Bruce’s hand, apologizing profusely. He identified himself as the hospital administrator before admonishing the woman whose face was now red with anger and embarrassment. Apparently deciding she couldn’t get away with being rude to Bruce Wayne, she glared hatefully at John before stalking off in a huff.
As the man stammered more apologies, a team of medical personnel soon appeared and wheeled Selina out of the emergency room and into a waiting elevator. The administrator gestured for Bruce to proceed to another elevator. Without being asked, Blake followed them, both Bruce and John ignored the babblings of the nervous man.
They emerged on a floor Blake had yet to visit. It was an exclusive part of the hospital that Blake never knew existed. The hustle and bustle of the emergency seemed very far away. The administrator led them into a comfortable waiting room. He offered coffee and looked like he was about to sit down to wait with them. Bruce gave Blake a quick nod of his head and John, with very little diplomacy, told the guy to get lost.
“Alfred sent you some clothes,” he said, after the man left. He handed Bruce the leather bag Alfred had sent. Wayne was a mess; his suit was smeared with blood, his white shirt had a huge red circle from chest to belly, dried blood on his neck. “You should get cleaned up.”
“Yeah,” Bruce said absently as he took the bag
Five minutes later, he came out of the bathroom wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. He stuffed his suit in the large trash can by the door.
“What happened?” John asked as Bruce sat down next to him.
“I don’t know,” he said, sounding sick of saying that.
“Why was she there? Who’s the dead guy?”
Bruce glared at him.
“The homicide detective thinks it’s a drug deal gone bad. The John Doe has the look of a heroin addict.”
“Track marks on his arms,” John explained at Bruce’s questioning look.
“I didn’t notice that.”
“Yeah, I guess not. Are these hers?” He held up the keys he had retrieved from the crime scene.
Bruce looked at them for a moment, taking in the blood and tissue that clung to them. “Yes,” he said taking them.
“Looks like she used them to defend herself,” Blake said quietly though he was pleased they were hers. On the drive over, he worried that he may have unnecessarily tampered with evidence.
Bruce nodded then leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at the keys.
ldquo;I talked to some of the bums in the area but they didn’t see anything. Didn’t see any cars coming or going. Didn’t see you. I’m friends with the detective in charge, Jessica Massey…” Jess was a straight up cop but John thought he might be able to convince her to not look too closely at things Bruce didn’t want looked into. “What can I do to help?”
“Don’t prevent her from doing her job.” Bruce gave him a steady look
“She’s gonna want to talk to…her…Selina.”
“If she’s a good detective she will.”
“Wait,” Blake just realized something. “How did she get there? Selina, I mean. Other than your car and the cop cars, there was nothing. No buses go to that part of town.”
Bruce didn’t respond. The room was quiet as they waited. Bruce stayed perfectly still while Blake fidgeted, fingers drumming on his knee, getting up and walking around before sitting back down.
Then he started talking, telling Bruce more about what he’d been up to. When they met the first time, he’d left out a good bit of details including getting in trouble with Gordon. He knew he was babbling but sitting in silence never worked well with him. He also got the feeling he was wearing out his welcome but he didn’t want to leave Bruce alone
Bruce slid his phone out of his pocket then made a call. He gave Alfred Selina’s status, telling him she was in surgery and that they hadn’t heard from a doctor yet. With a quick look to John, he walked outside the waiting room. Blake watched him through the big glass window, surprised to see his face change, opening up, smiling as he talked. He didn’t think he was talking to Alfred
As Bruce talked, Blake received a text message from Alfred telling him it was okay to leave Mr. Wayne alone. The old guy thought of everything.
“What can I do?” Blake asked when Bruce returned.
Bruce checked his phone, accessing the GPS function, then showed Blake a map with a blinking blue dot. The dot was at the Gotham Promenade Shopping Mall.
“You want me to go shopping?”
“No, I want you to get her car.” He reached into his pocket and took out the bloody keys. He looked at them before taking one of the keys of the ring. He also gave him cash to call a taxi after he dropped off her car telling him to take a cab home. He emphasized home with a look letting Blake know he didn’t want him returning to the hospital.
“I get it,” Blake said. On the way out, he paused by the door. “The Commissioner and me? We just want to help you.”
Next chapter
________________________________________________________________________________
A/N: At this point, I’m sure many of you are thinking that for a Bruce and Selina story there sure isn’t a lot of Bruce and Selina. Just know that the last two chapters were setting up the story. While Selina is going to be unconscious for awhile, the story centers on her and her relationship with Bruce. Thank you for reading!