FIC: Harvey Dent Day
Title: Harvey Dent Day
Continuity: Movies, between The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises
Pairing/Characters: John Blake, Jim Gordon, Bruce Wayne
Warnings: None
Summary: John Blake's first Harvey Dent Day as a policeman doesn't go as he expected.
Rating: G
Word Count: 1400
Notes: No spoilers, just speculation on John Blake as a character and the world Jim and Bruce have built between them.
"I don't know what I expected. Just...not nothing."
John Blake felt himself flushing as Lieutenant Vanclief flashed a condescending smile at him. "The Commissioner never celebrates Harvey Dent Day with the force," she said. "For the last five years he's called it a day early and taken off without saying a word to anyone."
Blake frowned at the closed office door and the figure of Jim Gordon beyond it, in conversation with an unseen someone. "Doesn't he care?"
Vanclief's patronizing smile vanished; her eyes blazed as she snapped, "Shut your trap, rookie. He cares more than anyone in this whole city, and don't you forget it for a second."
"I'm sorry," Blake muttered, and he meant it. Sure, like so many others he'd been inspired as a teen to join the police force by Harvey Dent and his sacrifice for Gotham. But as he'd learned more about the Commissioner, seen the steel that lurked under those deceptively mild eyes--well, not everyone could be as noble as Harvey Dent, but Jim Gordon was a more grounded hero, the kind of man one could actually hope to be like, not just an ideal. "I guess I'm just a little disappointed. It's my first Harvey Dent Day on the force, and...you know."
Vanclief smiled again and cuffed him on the back. "I know. Trust me, the day means a lot to him, like it does to all of us. He just doesn't show it well."
"He was there when Dent gave his life to save his son. To save Gotham," Blake said, his eyes on the office door. "I just...wonder what he feels."
He realized Vanclief was watching him narrowly and felt himself turning red again. Damn it. But she just smiled. "You know what? You're okay, kid," she said. "A lot of cops from my class joined the force to get a crack at the Batman, try to be a big damn hero. But lately--" She shrugged. "--It's different. Better."
"After five years, if you became an officer to get a shot at a ghost, you're kind of crazy," Blake said ruefully. The legendary Batman hadn't been sighted conclusively for years now. There were rumors, shadows--but nothing more. Blake had dreamed his youthful dreams of bringing the murderer down, but as he grew up and realized what Dent had really stood for, he'd joined the force not to hunt, but to help. A lot of them had: the best and the brightest of Gotham. And now Commissioner Gordon had the finest police force in the country, and the safest city in the world.
All thanks to the man whose life they celebrated today, in speech and in silence.
Gordon was standing up, and his guest stood with him. Vanclief groaned as he turned to reveal an aristocratic profile. "Doesn't that guy have anything better to do with his time?" she muttered as Bruce Wayne shook Jim Gordon's hand. "Seems like he's always coming by."
"Well, at least after his visits we usually have equipment upgrades," Blake said.
"I really need to be going," Gordon was saying to Wayne, his voice flat and distant.
"Can I give you a ride home, maybe?"
"No. Thank you," Gordon added a second too late for politeness. He looked tired, Blake realized--even more tired than usual, and he often looked far too weary for someone so adored by the public and so revered by his officers. He eyes were remote, as if he were somewhere else entirely.
Maybe it was that look of isolation that pushed Blake into blurting out, "Won't you say a few words in honor of Harvey Dent Day, sir?" Gordon and Wayne both stopped and turned to look at Blake, who resisted the urge to shuffle his feet like a chastised schoolboy and set his jaw instead. "I know we'd all appreciate hearing your thoughts."
Gordon looked out at the expectant faces. After a moment, his shoulders slumped and he rubbed his forehead. "Harvey Dent Day," he muttered. Then he took a breath and squared his shoulders. "Today," he said, "I remember a man who sacrificed himself for this city. I remember a man whose love for Gotham transcended his need for happiness or recognition. A man who I was proud to call my friend."
He stopped and cleared his throat. Behind him, Wayne had his hands stuck in his expensive suit pockets and was leaning against the wall, his posture nonchalant to the point of insulting. But his eyes, like everyone else's, were fixed on Gordon, and Blake felt for a strange moment as if there were something dark and vast looming behind his gaze.
"As you all know, every year on this day," Gordon went on, "I leave work early and I walk the city alone in the dark, safe by the grace of his sacrifice that has made Gotham the city of peace and prosperity it is today. As I walk, I remember the passion and hope in my friend's voice, how he never hesitated to put himself between us and the darkness. And I look for some sign of him in the shadows. A whisper of his voice in the sounds of the city." Gordon's hands clenched into fists and then relaxed again as his shoulders sagged once more. "But there's nothing." Gordon looked out at his officers, blinking, not seeing their rapt faces. "I just hope that, wherever he is, he knows that Gotham is a better place because of him, and that I--" His voice broke and he swallowed hard, "--That I miss him. Not just today, but every day. I--" He shook his head. "Damn it," he said hoarsely. "Just...damn it."
Behind him, Bruce Wayne stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. "Jim--"
Gordon shook the touch off, turning to glare at him. "I'm fine," he snapped. He looked out at his officers; when he met Blake's eyes he smiled a little. "I know he'd be proud of all of you," he said. "You're the finest in the world, and you are the embodiment of his dream."
"We--we try to live up to the ideas you and Harvey Dent set," said Blake.
Gordon winced very slightly, as if hearing the name of his friend caused him pain, but he nodded at Blake. "Keep up the good work," he said. "And all the sacrifices of that day will never be in vain."
He nodded in salute; people made way before him in silence as he walked to the door. As the normal sounds of the headquarters started to filter back in his wake, Blake realized that Bruce Wayne was standing motionless, one hand still slightly raised as if to comfort the Commissioner. Too slow to realize he's been dismissed, Blake thought, but he kept his tone polite as he addressed the GCPD's biggest supporter: "Can I help you with anything else, sir?"
"Ah," Wayne stared at him, and Blake once again had that strange flash of something uncanny behind his eyes. "No, I believe I'm fine," he said, not sounding terribly convinced of it. "But may I ask you a favor?"
"Um, sure."
"Would you please keep an eye on the Commissioner? Make sure he's eating well, getting enough sleep? He seems..."
"Lonely?"
A faint smile. "I was going to say stressed, but..." He let the sentence trail off. "Anyway, could you?"
"Mr. Wayne," Blake said, "All of us do our best to take care of the Commissioner. He's the best man in Gotham City."
Wayne's smile deepened into warmth, and Blake remembered that when he was younger he was considered a very handsome man. "That he is. Thank you, Mr. Blake," he said.
"Uh, thank you," said Blake, surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. Had the Commissioner been talking about him? Impossible. "And a very peaceful Harvey Dent Day to you."
Wayne nodded, smiling, as if the standard greeting held a world of meaning. "A very peaceful Harvey Dent Day to us all."
Continuity: Movies, between The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises
Pairing/Characters: John Blake, Jim Gordon, Bruce Wayne
Warnings: None
Summary: John Blake's first Harvey Dent Day as a policeman doesn't go as he expected.
Rating: G
Word Count: 1400
Notes: No spoilers, just speculation on John Blake as a character and the world Jim and Bruce have built between them.
"I don't know what I expected. Just...not nothing."
John Blake felt himself flushing as Lieutenant Vanclief flashed a condescending smile at him. "The Commissioner never celebrates Harvey Dent Day with the force," she said. "For the last five years he's called it a day early and taken off without saying a word to anyone."
Blake frowned at the closed office door and the figure of Jim Gordon beyond it, in conversation with an unseen someone. "Doesn't he care?"
Vanclief's patronizing smile vanished; her eyes blazed as she snapped, "Shut your trap, rookie. He cares more than anyone in this whole city, and don't you forget it for a second."
"I'm sorry," Blake muttered, and he meant it. Sure, like so many others he'd been inspired as a teen to join the police force by Harvey Dent and his sacrifice for Gotham. But as he'd learned more about the Commissioner, seen the steel that lurked under those deceptively mild eyes--well, not everyone could be as noble as Harvey Dent, but Jim Gordon was a more grounded hero, the kind of man one could actually hope to be like, not just an ideal. "I guess I'm just a little disappointed. It's my first Harvey Dent Day on the force, and...you know."
Vanclief smiled again and cuffed him on the back. "I know. Trust me, the day means a lot to him, like it does to all of us. He just doesn't show it well."
"He was there when Dent gave his life to save his son. To save Gotham," Blake said, his eyes on the office door. "I just...wonder what he feels."
He realized Vanclief was watching him narrowly and felt himself turning red again. Damn it. But she just smiled. "You know what? You're okay, kid," she said. "A lot of cops from my class joined the force to get a crack at the Batman, try to be a big damn hero. But lately--" She shrugged. "--It's different. Better."
"After five years, if you became an officer to get a shot at a ghost, you're kind of crazy," Blake said ruefully. The legendary Batman hadn't been sighted conclusively for years now. There were rumors, shadows--but nothing more. Blake had dreamed his youthful dreams of bringing the murderer down, but as he grew up and realized what Dent had really stood for, he'd joined the force not to hunt, but to help. A lot of them had: the best and the brightest of Gotham. And now Commissioner Gordon had the finest police force in the country, and the safest city in the world.
All thanks to the man whose life they celebrated today, in speech and in silence.
Gordon was standing up, and his guest stood with him. Vanclief groaned as he turned to reveal an aristocratic profile. "Doesn't that guy have anything better to do with his time?" she muttered as Bruce Wayne shook Jim Gordon's hand. "Seems like he's always coming by."
"Well, at least after his visits we usually have equipment upgrades," Blake said.
"I really need to be going," Gordon was saying to Wayne, his voice flat and distant.
"Can I give you a ride home, maybe?"
"No. Thank you," Gordon added a second too late for politeness. He looked tired, Blake realized--even more tired than usual, and he often looked far too weary for someone so adored by the public and so revered by his officers. He eyes were remote, as if he were somewhere else entirely.
Maybe it was that look of isolation that pushed Blake into blurting out, "Won't you say a few words in honor of Harvey Dent Day, sir?" Gordon and Wayne both stopped and turned to look at Blake, who resisted the urge to shuffle his feet like a chastised schoolboy and set his jaw instead. "I know we'd all appreciate hearing your thoughts."
Gordon looked out at the expectant faces. After a moment, his shoulders slumped and he rubbed his forehead. "Harvey Dent Day," he muttered. Then he took a breath and squared his shoulders. "Today," he said, "I remember a man who sacrificed himself for this city. I remember a man whose love for Gotham transcended his need for happiness or recognition. A man who I was proud to call my friend."
He stopped and cleared his throat. Behind him, Wayne had his hands stuck in his expensive suit pockets and was leaning against the wall, his posture nonchalant to the point of insulting. But his eyes, like everyone else's, were fixed on Gordon, and Blake felt for a strange moment as if there were something dark and vast looming behind his gaze.
"As you all know, every year on this day," Gordon went on, "I leave work early and I walk the city alone in the dark, safe by the grace of his sacrifice that has made Gotham the city of peace and prosperity it is today. As I walk, I remember the passion and hope in my friend's voice, how he never hesitated to put himself between us and the darkness. And I look for some sign of him in the shadows. A whisper of his voice in the sounds of the city." Gordon's hands clenched into fists and then relaxed again as his shoulders sagged once more. "But there's nothing." Gordon looked out at his officers, blinking, not seeing their rapt faces. "I just hope that, wherever he is, he knows that Gotham is a better place because of him, and that I--" His voice broke and he swallowed hard, "--That I miss him. Not just today, but every day. I--" He shook his head. "Damn it," he said hoarsely. "Just...damn it."
Behind him, Bruce Wayne stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. "Jim--"
Gordon shook the touch off, turning to glare at him. "I'm fine," he snapped. He looked out at his officers; when he met Blake's eyes he smiled a little. "I know he'd be proud of all of you," he said. "You're the finest in the world, and you are the embodiment of his dream."
"We--we try to live up to the ideas you and Harvey Dent set," said Blake.
Gordon winced very slightly, as if hearing the name of his friend caused him pain, but he nodded at Blake. "Keep up the good work," he said. "And all the sacrifices of that day will never be in vain."
He nodded in salute; people made way before him in silence as he walked to the door. As the normal sounds of the headquarters started to filter back in his wake, Blake realized that Bruce Wayne was standing motionless, one hand still slightly raised as if to comfort the Commissioner. Too slow to realize he's been dismissed, Blake thought, but he kept his tone polite as he addressed the GCPD's biggest supporter: "Can I help you with anything else, sir?"
"Ah," Wayne stared at him, and Blake once again had that strange flash of something uncanny behind his eyes. "No, I believe I'm fine," he said, not sounding terribly convinced of it. "But may I ask you a favor?"
"Um, sure."
"Would you please keep an eye on the Commissioner? Make sure he's eating well, getting enough sleep? He seems..."
"Lonely?"
A faint smile. "I was going to say stressed, but..." He let the sentence trail off. "Anyway, could you?"
"Mr. Wayne," Blake said, "All of us do our best to take care of the Commissioner. He's the best man in Gotham City."
Wayne's smile deepened into warmth, and Blake remembered that when he was younger he was considered a very handsome man. "That he is. Thank you, Mr. Blake," he said.
"Uh, thank you," said Blake, surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. Had the Commissioner been talking about him? Impossible. "And a very peaceful Harvey Dent Day to you."
Wayne nodded, smiling, as if the standard greeting held a world of meaning. "A very peaceful Harvey Dent Day to us all."