Gotham Imagines and One Shots

Back from the dead - Part 4 - Harvey x Jim x Reader

Harvey just looked at (Y/n), as she paced the office. As she explained why she had had to "die". Why she had had to do what she had done. About the evil man that her years of work had ultimately brought to justice. The female detective finally dropping herself back into the chair. Her eyes cast down to the floor, not sure that she could look at Harvey. Not sure that he would ever understand or forgive her for what she had allowed he and Jim to believe.

Harvey couldn't help but smile. Despite the crazy hair and the tattoos that now covered her flesh, (Y/n) hadn't changed. No matter who and what she had had to pretend to be for the last few years, as she sat there, she was still the same woman that he had known. Her beauty no less than it had been the morning that she had set out for the job without him and Jim. In fact, he was sure that her beauty had only grown.

When she had started at the GCPD, Harvey, just like Jim had instantly fallen in love with (Y/n). And it wasn't just due to the way that she looked, it was more down to her personality. The way that she would laugh. The way that she would tease the male duo. The way that she took no shit and did what she had to do to get the job done. Yet even though he had always wanted to take their friendship and make it something more, there had always been something that held him back. A doubt that had kept him from saying anything. And then, Jim had told him about he and (Y/n) being together. Harvey not surprised at the news, yet that didn't mean that jealousy hadn't begun to eat away at him. The older man finding himself cursing Jim; cursing (Y/n). Annoyed that he had been able to do what Harvey couldn't. But eventually, after much soul searching. Or should that be, more than a few empty bottles. Harvey had realised that if he continued to do what he was doing he would end up loosing both of them. He would lose his friend and partner, and the woman he would always care so deeply for.

At this moment he could remember everything that had happened the day they had been informed that she had been killed. Down even to the most minute detail. That there had been a few spots of rain on the windscreen. That the air had an odour of smoke. The detective hearing the wail from the sirens of the fire engines that were barely audible over the sound of the traffic that surrounded the car. He could also recall the sound of the voice as it came over the radio. The shock and the sadness that had been in the tone. The utter disbelief in losing one of their own had been palpable. He could remember how he had crawled into the bottle and never wanted to leave it. How he would do the same every year as the anniversary of her death rolled around. Yet as he looked down at her, Harvey was sure that he would remember this day too. That he would recall the number of paces that she had taken. Her perfume that was filling the air. And the look in her eyes, as she had told him that she was real.

"Hey." Harvey said softly, as he reached down and took her chin in his hand. Raising her head so that he could look into her eyes.

"You did good, gorgeous. You did real good." The detective continued. His heart beating at a pace, as (Y/n) gave him a teary smile before she jumped to her feet and fell into his arms. The Irishman brushing his fingers through her hair, as she placed her head on his chest.

"I'm sorry Harvey. I never meant to hurt you. And I never meant to hurt Jim. I didn't want to do it. But it was the only way. So many times, I wanted to call him. To send you both a letter to tell you that I was ok. But.........but I just couldn't. When all of it ended, I thought about staying away. Never coming back here. Try and create a new life for myself somewhere else. But I knew I couldn't. For three years I had thought about being here. About being back in the car with you and Jim. Doing our best to bring the scumbags of this city to justice. Of stealing your Danish when you weren't looking. Of being.............of being with Jim." (Y/n) apologised. Her tears now staining Harvey's shirt.

"Do you think he'll ever forgive me, Harvey? Do you think that he might..........that he might want me back in his life after all I've put him through?" The female detective continued. Her fingers gripping tightly to the material that covered his torso.

"I know he will, honey. I know he will................" Harvey replied, as he kissed the top of her head.

                                                          >>--------------------------------<<

Jim made his way back down the sidewalk. He had no idea of the time. The numbers and hands on his watch now incredibly blurry thanks to the several large glasses of Scotch that were currently giving him the courage to make his way back to the precinct. But whatever time it was, he knew that if (Y/n) had been real, you would still be waiting for him to come back.

During his time in the bar, he had scribbled a number of questions on napkins. Questions that he knew he desperately wanted to ask (Y/n) when he was able to face her. But all had ended up in the same way, scrunched up and thrown away. All of them sounding far angrier than he really meant them to. Not that he thought that his anger was unjustified. That it was unwarranted. He had every right to demand answers. To know why she had done what she had done. Where she had been. But he also knew that he didn't want to scare her off. He didn't want her to think that he wanted her to leave. That he wanted her to leave him.

Suddenly he came to a stop. The precinct looming over him. If he could manage to get through the doors and up the steps without falling over and making a complete fool of himself in front of everyone, he knew what the one question that he really wanted to ask her was. The question on the only napkin that he had kept. Do you still love me?