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It could have always been worse, Jim thought. Barbara could have been here or even the kids - thank God that they weren’t. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself if something would have happened to any of them again. Especially so soon after Dent.
He tried to move a little from the awkward position he found himself on the floor but immediately stopped as his left shoulder, which was just throbbing to this moment, flared with immense pain. He screwed his eyes shut and breathed through his nose as he bit back a moan. As he tried to get his racing heart under control, he felt someone’s strong hands on his arms, rolling him gently onto his back and moving him so he could rest against the wall. Jim clutched his wounded shoulder harder, feeling blood soaking through his jacket and running down between his fingers. Someone then lifted his hand to put something soft against his wound and pressing down, putting their hands over his. This time he couldn’t stop a moan from escaping his mouth.
„Press down on it, commissioner,” Jim cracked his eyes open at the husky voice and after a couple of blinks, the blurry shape before him formed into a concern looking Bruce Wayne. He looked to the side and saw that the soft thing against his shoulder was, in fact, the man’s bundled tie.
„Sorry to ruin it,” he all but whispered. The attempt at humour felt flat to him but Wayne smiled nevertheless.
„I got some spare ones.”
„Of course you do.” Costing more than Jim’s monthly salary, no doubt or even more. „I don’t think you should be seen near me, Mr Wayne.” He added after a moment.
„Why’s that? Because they can shot at me? They already tried it, commissioner and it wasn’t because I stood next to you.” Jim grimaced and this time it wasn’t because of a gunshot wound to his shoulder. Of all the things he had imagined doing this day, getting shot for Bruce Wayne wasn’t at the top of his list and yet here he was, after doing exactly that. Jim shut his eyes to stop the world from spinning.
Bruce averted his eyes from the wounded commissioner. The man looked awful. With his hair plastered to his forehead and face ashen, Bruce was afraid for how long the older man could go on until he passed out. Atop of that, the bullet was still in the man’s body, probably in the shoulder blade. The bullet that was meant for Bruce. He pursed his lips.
The situation had gone to hell too quickly. One moment he had been holding a glass of champagne in hand, pretending to laugh at a poor attempt at a joke from the Mayor, the next there was a commotion at the door and people with guns storming in. Bullets had been fired, people had screamed and run. Many of them managed to escape, including the Mayor, who he had pushed through the backdoor. That had left him exposed for a second too long. One of the thugs had managed to catch him with his right hook, he hadn't fought back, not if he wanted to protect his secret identity - Bruce Wayne wasn’t supposed to know how to fight back. Then there had been a gun pointed right at him but before he could have reacted in any way, Jim Gordon had come out of nowhere, pushing Bruce out of the way and getting himself shot, making him watch as for the second time in his life someone close to him was lying bleeding down on the floor.
Bruce's eyes narrowed slightly as he assessed the current situation. There were eight criminals in total, four of them were guarding both of the doors and only half of them were carrying guns but unfortunately, he could also see some explosives. Most of the guests managed to escape but there still were too many people in the room. He couldn’t get out without being noticed and couldn’t do a thing here, not if he wanted to keep up his cover. But was it worth it? He looked back at Gordon slumped against the wall and felt anger rising. Jim needed medical help and fast, the blood had already soaked through the tie. Bruce made a quick decision and removed his jacket, bundled it and added it over the tie, pressing down hard. Jim’s back arched a little at the sudden pain and the man bit back a cry as if just remembering in time that it probably wasn’t wise to be too loud in their current situation. It cost him a lot it seemed, as his breathing was more rugged than before. Bruce furrowed his brow in anger. He knew the police must have been notified but he couldn’t wait for them. There was no time. He tapped his watch activating his location, leaving a bloodied fingerprint behind on the screen. Suddenly a bloody hand caught his arm, stopping him from moving.
„Wayne, don’t do anything stupid,” Jim propped himself up on his elbow. The pain was visible in his eyes and the words were almost choked up. Bruce could feel tremors going through the arm that was trying to hold him down in place.
„Oh, I believe you already covered the amount of stupid that could be done, commissioner,” he didn’t realize how low his voice had dropped until he saw something cross Gordon’s face, something between confusion and realization. For the first time this night, Bruce hoped that the man had lost too much blood to connect the dots. He cleared his throat. „I appreciate your concern but I already spent too much time here than necessary.”
He felt a pang of guilt after saying the words, especially after seeing the look in Gordon’s eyes but everything was better than seeing the other man dead. Bruce Wayne was already known as a coward even if a generous one. Nothing that he would have done would worsen his reputation more, not after „burning” down his mansion and escaping from Joker’s attack not so long ago. Nothing that he would have done would surprise anyone anymore. Yet he was still hesitating. How much more he could drag his family name through the mud? How easy it would have been to just get up and beat every thug in the room up. How different it would have been to be named a hero instead of a coward. Especially since Batman was a wanted criminal now. How long could he go on like this?
Suddenly the pressure on his wrist lessened as Gordon’s hand unwrapped and brushed past onto the floor. Bruce's eyes immediately darted towards the commissioner who slumped back against the wall. His eyes were closed and fear spiked in Bruce’s heart as he moved his fingers to Jim’s neck. For what was worth, the pulse was still there, not as strong as it should be, but still there. There was a small trail of blood from the man’s mouth which definitely wasn’t a good sign. That was all it took for Bruce to make up his mind.
As gently as he could muster, he manoeuvred Gordon to rest sideways against the pillar, so his good arm was trapped between it and the wounded shoulder.
„You need to hold on, Jim. Help is coming.” He didn’t wait to see whenever the commissioner had heard him or not, he didn’t even moan when moved.
Bruce got to his feet and was immediately snatched by one of the criminals.
„Going somewhere?” Snarled the guy, right next to Bruce’s face. Bruce tried to act as non-threatening as possible, slightly rising his hands and putting on a frightened face.
„Easy man, I don’t want any trouble,” Bruce pleaded as the man tightened his hold on his arm. It was strong enough to bruise any other person so he pretended to wince hard. ”Look, I’m the richest person in this room but it can easily change, someone else may come and take up that mantle or come close enough.” He said quickly as if out of breath, hoping it would work.
„How so?” The other man raised an eyebrow but looked interested. Bruce made a motion with his head for him to get closer.
„It can be you.” He whispered and flashed him his billionaire smile. „All I ask is to get me the hell out of here and the money, as much as you want, can be yours.” There it was - the greedy spark in the man’s eye. They were always the same, those common criminals and Bruce felt disgusted with them but almost equally with himself.
„You rich guys can’t be trusted,” the man snarled and pressed the muzzle of his gun to Bruce’s abdomen but the greedy spark didn’t leave his eye.
„Look, the guy behind me? He already ruined my tie and jacket. Do you really believe I would like to end like him?” He felt sick just saying it, but he needed to get out of here. There was no other way. Please, forgive me, Jim.
The criminal looked at Gordon and back at him and finally nodded. Bruce tried to feel relieved but it was almost impossible after what he had said. He wanted to be out of here, so he could beat all those men senseless. The criminal took him by the arm and pulled him roughly towards the door. He whispered something to his partner and soon, Bruce was out of the room and marched towards the stairs at the end of the hall. They were descending the staircase, when simultaneously Bruce’s watched biped and the lights went out.
“What the hell?” The criminal pushed Wayne against the wall and gripped his machine gun tighter. The last thing he did, was to scream as he saw a person wearing a mask with characteristic bat-shaped ears and then there was nothing. Bruce stretched his fist as the man fall.
“Nice timing, Alfred,” he smirked at his butler. The older man climbed the remaining stairs and removed the mask from his head then laid a weird-looking suitcase on the floor.
“I have no idea, how you breathe in it, master Bruce, this thing is a bloody nightmare,” said Pennyworth straightening his jacket.
“It comes with practice,” Wayne kneeled and using his fingerprint opened the case. Now he finally could do something to change the situation. As he put on the suit and the cowl he corrected himself. No, Bruce Wayne won’t do a thing, he would be found unconscious on the same staircase as the criminal with a nasty bump to his head. The people need Batman.
****
If you had ever asked commissioner Gordon what he had remembered from the time he had been shot, he would have told you that not much. He would have told you, he had lost a lot of blood, that Bruce Wayne had disappeared at some point after using his tie on Gordon’s wounded shoulder and that the next thing after that he had been on his way to the hospital in the ambulance. Others would have told him that the Batman had been the one, who had taken all those criminals out, Stevens would have admitted that the vigilante had been the one, who had gotten him out onto the pavement so the paramedics could have gotten to him faster. Stevens would have also asked him if what he had said had been all he could have remembered and he would answer yes. No matter the circumstances his answers would always be yes, which to be said - was a complete and utter lie. There were things that he had remembered and had dared to tell no other leaving soul, not ever. It was hard to acknowledge them by himself and telling others would have been too dangerous. He hadn’t wanted to dwell on them but those realizations had been too persistent and contrary to some people - Jim Gordon was a good cop with a bloody good instinct.
Point one: when Jim had been shot he hadn’t been as delirious as not to recognize the drop in Bruce Wayne’s voice at some point when the man talked to him.
Point two: Jim had remembered when Batman had been carrying him down the flight of stairs - barely, but it was enough to spot a fresh bruise on the visible part of Batman’s face. The same bruise as Bruce Wayne’s.
Now he stood waiting on the rooftop of his police station. He wasn’t yet cleared for duty but no one could have stopped him from coming up here. He knew the man he was waiting for would come. It wasn’t a matter of if but when. He was dying for a smoke but his uninjured hand was clutching on a bunded material in his coat pocket.
He didn’t know for how long he was standing near the ledge, looking at the city below, it had been enough for the chill to set in his wounded shoulder when he heard a soft rustling behind him. The corner of Gordon’s lips lifted slightly - if he could hear him, it meant that Batman wanted to be heard.
“Shouldn’t you be at home, commissioner?” The vigilante moved to stand on his left side.
“Probably, but I had a feeling, you might show up. Even if that’s not a smart thing to do with every police officer in this city being after your head.” Jim stole a glance at the masked man.
“Not every.”
Gordon laughed at that and shook his head.
“Fair enough.”
“How’s the shoulder, Jim?” The Batman asked and turned to fully look at the commissioner after a minute of comfortable silence. The other man shrugged with his right side.
“It had better days but I’ll live. Thanks for the help, by the way.”
“There’s no need to thank me, I didn’t do much.”
“Yeah, just stopped me from bleeding out.”
Jim could see Batman stiffening next to him, his eyes squinting a little.
“I just carried you out of the building,” the man finally rasped out but didn’t relax.
Gordon finally twisted his body, so he could look Batman in the eyes.
"Of course, that's exactly what I meant," the other man didn't even blink. Jim hoped, he would be understood - he couldn't say the words aloud. If he did, he would have to arrest the man. He just hoped that the vigilante would get it. He didn't care, who was behind the mask, he would still support him. Gotham needed Batman, scratch that, he needed him. If the Batman was Bruce Wayne? Well, it made an awful lot of sense. The hand, that he still kept hidden in his coat pocket started sweating, despite the cold. It was now or never.
"Look, I got something for you. Well, not exactly for you as you wouldn't wear it, it would look ridiculous..." He trailed off before he could embarrass himself more, he pulled his right hand for his pocket, holding out a dark, blue tie. "Here, it's for our mutual friend. It may be a little bit below his usual standards, yet I hope he will accept it nevertheless."
Batman's eyes moved from Gordon's face to the tie. He didn't say a word nor move for so long that Jim was beginning to fear, it all was one, big stupid idea but then, one gloved hand moved and took away the tie. A slight smirk appeared on the masked man face as he lifted up the garment and nodded his head.
"I think our mutual friend will like it just enough."
The voice that had come out of the man's mouth had startled Gordon just a little bit. The rasp was still there but softer. It had come out as something between Batman's usual voice and Bruce Wayne's. He had dropped the act just enough to let Gordon know that he had acknowledged what the commissioner had been doing but not for him to have been able to call him by his real name out loud.
Jim bowed his head down with a smile. His gut wasn't as twisted as before as the nervousness had finally left him.
"Give him my - " But when he looked back up again, the other man was gone. " - Thanks." Well, some things were just bound to stay the same. Jim shook his head and turned to the exit.
****
The next time he saw Bruce Wayne, the man was in a tuxedo with a cheap-looking dark, blue tie that most certainly didn't match the whole look. It was another gala that would hopefully go with no interruptions from the criminal word. Bruce laughed at something that the Mayor had said to him, but his smile changed to a more honest one when he had caught Jim's eyes over the Mayor's shoulder. He raised his glass in greeting, his eyes saying more than words. Gordon responded with the same gesture. His shoulder was still sore from the wound but it didn't matter. He smiled at the other man and drunk from the glass.
Let them come, he thought. The Batman and the Commissioner would always be ready. Now more than ever. All in all, it wasn't as if they both hadn't more ties to spare.