Chapter Text
“We'll get you a new one?”
Parents say it to their children whose anger and grief can be pacified with a smile, whose blurry, tear rimmed eyes are wide because children feel everything innocently, especially sadness. But, James Gordon is forty something and his sadness is tainted by fury and a distinct lack of naivety.
His floodlight on the roof of the MCU can’t be replaced. He will not forget so easily the scent of leather and Kevlar, the way the air momentarily stills because a shadow unfailingly watches him. No one is going to get him a new one.