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I didn't usually go to bars. Partly because I didn't drink, and partly because they always seemed to be crowded, which was something I tended to avoid. The Iceberg Lounge was the only exception, but obviously I couldn’t go there now.
Luckily, I managed to find a place with not enough people to be overwhelming, but enough so that I wasn't the only one. I had been coming here for a few days, not wanting to wallow in self pity alone at home, and had virtually no problems - being the boyfriend of the most powerful crime lord in Gotham gives you a lot of protection. And by protection, I mean people are usually too afraid to bother me, which is exactly how I like it.
Today was different, though. I was sitting at the same seat, the same regulars idly chatting, the same bartender lazily wiping the same spot on the counter he had wiped 5 times already. My bottle of soda was almost uncomfortably bubbly, and the new article about Oswald and Sofia’s latest outing, once again bringing up my absence, soured my already awful mood.
Generally, people here stayed away from me. I knew for certain my demeanor screamed anything but amiable, and the glower that painted my face definitely did not make me seem approachable. Which is why I was surprised when someone decided to sit at the barstool right next to mine. The mystery person flagged down the bartender, who placed a shot glass of amber liquid in front of him without any words spoken. There are five other seats at this counter, plus the rest of the bar, I thought, as if they would be able to read my mind. Why the fuck did you have to sit here of all places?
“Ryan Campbell?”
Ugh. Of course.
I folded my newspaper with more force than was necessary. “James. How nice,” I said, hoping to make it clear that it was anything but. I was still pissed that he stabbed me through with a sword at one of Strange’s creepy labs a few months ago. Technically, he was aiming at Fish, but I still ended up shish kebab’d. I think it’s only normal to be angry about that.
“If you’re looking for Oswald, he’s not here,” I continued. “So, if you don’t mind…” I stared at him, pointedly. He didn’t get the hint. Or maybe he didn’t care.
“I was looking for you, actually,” Jim said, folding his hands on the counter. “I wanted to ask you about-”
“Nope, don’t care,” I cut him off. He frowned at me. “And why not?”
“You almost killed me last year,” I said. “Yeah, well…” He hesitated. “You killed Galavan,” he finished lamely.
I’m sorry. I killed who now? No matter how hard I racked my brain, the only Galavan I could think of was Tabitha. Who was alive. “Uhh… Tabitha isn’t dead,” I said. “Are you losing it?”
“Are you? ” Jim shot back. “Theo Galavan. You went to Arkham because of it.”
Oh. Right. Him. My time spent at Arkham was not something I liked to remember, though I knew no matter what, I’d never forget the psychological torture I endured in the name of therapy or Hugo Strange’s spine chilling drawl, asking me how I felt after each session as I slowly lost any control I had over myself or my foggy mind finally clearing only to see my bloodstained hands and the stench of death making my stomach roll. Even now, almost 2 years later, I still woke up screaming from Arkham fueled nightmares.
I had been silent for far too long, I realized with a start, and Jim was staring at me with an expression I couldn't quite read out of the corner of my eyes, but I didn’t want to look closer to make it out. “O-oh.” I shoved my hands in my lap so he wouldn't see the way they shook. “Oh, yeah, that guy! You know… I didn’t actually kill him.”
Wait. I pressed my lips together. Should I be saying this to a police officer? Not just that, but the newly promoted captain of the GCPD who had been on mine and Oswald’s case for years. I felt like we were getting off topic.
“What? Yes, you did. You came to the precinct and confessed. Or did you forget that, too?”
I set my hands back on the counter, drumming my fingers nervously. “No, I remember. I guess I’m better at lying than I thought. Honestly, I didn’t totally expect Barnes to believe me.”
“What are you talking about?” Well. Can't go back now, I guess.
“Oswald was telling the truth the whole time. He killed Galavan. I lied and said it was me because I wouldn’t have been able to take over for him. And… I couldn’t stand it if he had gone through the same things I did.” I don't know why I was admitting all this to Jim. Oswald was the only one who knew about what happened to me in and after Arkham - it wasn’t fun to talk about, and I didn’t want pity. Part of me hoped Jim would just leave it alone; I served my time, even if I didn’t need to, and it was in the past. Besides, with everything Galavan had done, I had at least a sliver of hope nothing would come of this.
"You going to arrest me, captain?" I joked, though I feared he would, and either I or Oswald would have to go through that again. "No," he admitted. "Against my better judgment, I'm going to pretend you never said anything."
I let out the shaky breath I didn't know I was holding. "Thanks."
Jim slowly downed the rest of his drink. "But… speaking of Penguin..." Oh boy. "I wanted to come talk to you about him. He's been pissier than usual lately, which is saying something. I don't suppose you have any idea why?" Of course. The one thing I didn't want to talk about. Especially not with Jim fucking Gordon. Upon seeing my scowl, his eyes narrowed. "Or... have anything to do with it?"
Please do Not ask, I thought, thumbing at the condensation on my bottle.
"What happened?" He asked, as if it pained him to do so. I almost laughed at his attempt at concern. Almost. "You know, as much as I would love to continue sharing my problems with you," I wouldn't. "I really don't think you want to hear me whine about my boyfriend like a teenage girl."
"Relationship trouble?"
I snorted. "You could say that."
His smile was bitter. "Yeah. Me too."
Interesting. "You're dating? I honestly thought you had given up after Lee." Jim shot a half-hearted glare at me right as I realized how insensitive I sounded. "Sorry."
Heaving a sigh, Jim shook his head. "It's fine. It's not really something my… partner and I broadcast." The deliberate use of partner wasn't lost on me, and I wondered if there was a double meaning hidden in there. "They… he and I have conflicting opinions on the licenses. And now, with Sofia here… he thinks she's doing Gotham a favor by trying to get rid of Penguin."
"Oh, good, so it's not just obvious to me what she's doing," I joked dryly. Jim side-eyed me. "Is that… what's going on with you and Penguin?" He asked.
Oh buddy. That's not even the start of it.
"I'm also technically a Falcone, as you know, and even though I'm not blood related, I've known Sofia for a very long time. I know what she's capable of. Clearly, she's manipulating Oswald so she can take the underworld from him and most likely kill him, correct?" I looked over at Jim expectantly, almost satisfied when he nodded.
"He refuses to believe me. He was suspicious at first, but somehow she's convinced him that all she wants is to help him.” I dropped my head into my hands, ignoring how my heart panged as I ran through our argument in my head. “Last… last time we spoke, I told him not to come back when she betrays him.” I laughed humorlessly. “Some boyfriend I am.”
Jim didn’t say anything, and neither did I. A small group of people with no volume control walked into the bar, ruining the brooding moment, but thankfully headed straight to a secluded table towards the back.
"For the record," Jim said after a moment, "I'm sorry for stabbing you."
My lips twitched up. "With a sword," I added. "...with a sword," Jim repeated.
"Only in Gotham, am I right?" I said, unable to hide my smile at his pained expression. "You are forgiven. I'm alive, and I've got a sick scar now. Besides, you were infected with the Tetch Virus, so it wasn't really your fault, right?"
"Not entirely."
"Ha. Very funny."
Once again, silence fell between us.
"I should… get back to work," Jim eventually said. The sudden statement made me wonder what he was even doing here, now that he was captain. "Evil never rests, does it?”
Jim offered a small smile.
“Exactly. See you.”
He placed his hand on my shoulder before he left. A simple gesture, maybe, but in that moment it was exactly what I needed.