Fic: For Her
Title: For Her
Characters: Batman, Jim Gordon
Rating: G.
Disclaimer: DC owns almost all of them.
Warning: Character death (Inspired by the last panel of Bruce Wayne: The Road Home: Commissioner Gordon)
Word Count: 649
A/N: Every year, I try to do a little something for the Day of the Dead.
Jim Gordon felt cold. Of course, Jim felt cold almost all the time, these days. The damn hospital blankets did nothing to keep what little heat his body was generating inside. There seemed to be more heat coming out of the monitors above his head than from the vents. He had sent his daughter home for the night. He had smiled at her and thanked her for coming. A last, good, brave image of him. He could almost imagine how he must have looked to her. But in his imagination, he was always a clueless new detective in his 30s just getting to know the city of Gotham.
He closed his eyes, listened through the hum of the machines around him straining to hear the rhythm of his city, and he waited. He was not sure exactly what he was waiting for, but he knew for certain that he was waiting for something. Maybe it was a soft farewell from Gotham. Maybe it was death. It was not until the soft click of the window lock being undone that he remembered.
He was waiting for Batman.
"The city seems quiet tonight." He tried his best to sound hale and hearty.
The figure in the corner of the room smiled. "You finally caught me coming into a room."
A cough. "I don't have much else to keep me busy now."
Batman stepped forward and nodded. "There won't be trouble tonight. The old rogues... in a way, they respect you for the fight. No one steps on your night tonight."
He laughed and tried to suppress the cough that followed. "Maybe I should die every night."
"The city couldn't handle that, Jim. Neither could I."
"She's tougher than you think."
Batman leaned forward and put a hand on Jim Gordon's shoulder. "And you have been... are more important to Gotham than you know."
"She'll be the same Gotham as always. Even after you're gone."
Batman nodded, looking out the window at the city below. Finally he turned and started to remove his cowl.
"You don't need to do that."
The man behind the cowl smiled. "Yes, I do. Not for you, maybe. But for me."
"Doesn't make a damn bit of difference, I can't see a thing anyway."
"I know. But she can. I want to let Gotham remember us here, together. No masks. No badges. Just us."
*****
They spent the night talking--sharing memories, stories too private to share with anyone else or at any other time. They talked about old Gotham and about times the city herself seemed to have saved or doomed them. They talked about feeling of walking on brick streets covered over by tar and asphalt. They talked about the night that Barbara was shot. They sat in silence together as well--letting the sounds of the city flow through them.
*****
At around 4 or 5 o'clock in the morning, Jim took a deep breath and opened his eyes again. "I think it's time you got back home."
"Jim."
"No. I'm going soon. And I don't expect to be coming back. I need a moment to collect myself. I can't let her see me unprepared."
Batman nodded. He pulled the cowl back over his head and looked silently at the older man.
"Go. Keep her safe on what remains of your watch. She deserves a quiet night every now and again."
"Thank you for all you did, Jim."
"Yes, yes. Thank you too. Now go."
Batman was, of course, already gone. Jim Gordon smiled. That was the way things should be.
From outside the window, Bruce Wayne heard Jim Gordon whisper a final "thank you" and then heard the alarm of the heart monitor.
Jim Gordon's face relaxed into a smile. It was a good, last, brave image. For her.
Characters: Batman, Jim Gordon
Rating: G.
Disclaimer: DC owns almost all of them.
Warning: Character death (Inspired by the last panel of Bruce Wayne: The Road Home: Commissioner Gordon)
Word Count: 649
A/N: Every year, I try to do a little something for the Day of the Dead.
Jim Gordon felt cold. Of course, Jim felt cold almost all the time, these days. The damn hospital blankets did nothing to keep what little heat his body was generating inside. There seemed to be more heat coming out of the monitors above his head than from the vents. He had sent his daughter home for the night. He had smiled at her and thanked her for coming. A last, good, brave image of him. He could almost imagine how he must have looked to her. But in his imagination, he was always a clueless new detective in his 30s just getting to know the city of Gotham.
He closed his eyes, listened through the hum of the machines around him straining to hear the rhythm of his city, and he waited. He was not sure exactly what he was waiting for, but he knew for certain that he was waiting for something. Maybe it was a soft farewell from Gotham. Maybe it was death. It was not until the soft click of the window lock being undone that he remembered.
He was waiting for Batman.
"The city seems quiet tonight." He tried his best to sound hale and hearty.
The figure in the corner of the room smiled. "You finally caught me coming into a room."
A cough. "I don't have much else to keep me busy now."
Batman stepped forward and nodded. "There won't be trouble tonight. The old rogues... in a way, they respect you for the fight. No one steps on your night tonight."
He laughed and tried to suppress the cough that followed. "Maybe I should die every night."
"The city couldn't handle that, Jim. Neither could I."
"She's tougher than you think."
Batman leaned forward and put a hand on Jim Gordon's shoulder. "And you have been... are more important to Gotham than you know."
"She'll be the same Gotham as always. Even after you're gone."
Batman nodded, looking out the window at the city below. Finally he turned and started to remove his cowl.
"You don't need to do that."
The man behind the cowl smiled. "Yes, I do. Not for you, maybe. But for me."
"Doesn't make a damn bit of difference, I can't see a thing anyway."
"I know. But she can. I want to let Gotham remember us here, together. No masks. No badges. Just us."
*****
They spent the night talking--sharing memories, stories too private to share with anyone else or at any other time. They talked about old Gotham and about times the city herself seemed to have saved or doomed them. They talked about feeling of walking on brick streets covered over by tar and asphalt. They talked about the night that Barbara was shot. They sat in silence together as well--letting the sounds of the city flow through them.
*****
At around 4 or 5 o'clock in the morning, Jim took a deep breath and opened his eyes again. "I think it's time you got back home."
"Jim."
"No. I'm going soon. And I don't expect to be coming back. I need a moment to collect myself. I can't let her see me unprepared."
Batman nodded. He pulled the cowl back over his head and looked silently at the older man.
"Go. Keep her safe on what remains of your watch. She deserves a quiet night every now and again."
"Thank you for all you did, Jim."
"Yes, yes. Thank you too. Now go."
Batman was, of course, already gone. Jim Gordon smiled. That was the way things should be.
From outside the window, Bruce Wayne heard Jim Gordon whisper a final "thank you" and then heard the alarm of the heart monitor.
Jim Gordon's face relaxed into a smile. It was a good, last, brave image. For her.