"That's the worst way to miss somebody. When they're right beside you and you miss them anyway." - Pittacus Lore, I Am Number Four
•••
Bird stared out of the window in her car as her driver made his way through the morning traffic.
She was scooted down in her seat some watching the other cars and city buildings blur by.
It was days like today that Bird had a hard time understanding how the rest of the world seemed to function.
Days like today where she'd much rather have stayed in bed. Even if sleep was evading her again. Laying around her house sounded much better than having to get up, shower and pretend to be human.
The last few days had been nothing but a mess.
She hadn't seen or spoken to Jim since they'd parted ways in the woods behind the mansion where the F.B.I. had been holding Strange.
She'd gotten a call on her landline phone the night before but when she'd answered, the other person had hung up.
Her first thought was maybe it was Jim, but now she felt like maybe that was more hopeful thinking on her end.
Oswald had confided in her his plans to challenge Mayor James in the upcoming election and she'd promised to help him as much as she could.
But top of the list of what was currently weighing heavily on her mind was 514A.
Subject 514A, that was.
Another Arkham escapee -who also happened to be an exact clone of Bruce.
She'd been at Wayne Manor the night 514A had found his way there.
He seemed just as confused as to why he looked like Bruce as the rest of them were.
He'd been a test subject at Indian Hill, who'd escaped on the same bus that Fish had.
Alfred had argued that they needed to turn him over to someone, but Bruce had argued that clone or not, 514A was a person and should have the rights any other person would.
He didn't want to see him locked back up somewhere and tested on.
Bird wasn't sure where she stood in that argument.
Her first and foremost concern was for her brother of course and she didn't want some clone of his running around the city and making trouble for Bruce.
But, 514A looked just like her brother. His voice was a little different and his hair hadn't been cut in years, but the face was nearly identical and because of that, she wasn't sure she could stomach turning him over to someone and not knowing what would happen.
So the trio had fed the clone, let him shower and gave him some clean clothes to wear until they could figure out what they were going to do with him.
The last time she'd spoke to Bruce on the phone the day before, he'd filled her in on the latest developments with 514A, who Bird had started calling 'Five'.
Five had been wandering Wayne Manor again and stumbled upon Bruce and Alfred boxing.
Bruce had given him his gloves and let him have an turn.
Despite claiming to have no prior training, Five had caught on quickly and landed some blows with Alfred.
Bruce told Bird that he was quicker than your average person and stronger too.
Which only caused Bird to remember back to trying to fight Azrael and finding it physically impossible with the enhanced speed and strength he had after Professor Strange's experiments on him.
But that wasn't all Bruce had shared with her.
Apparently Five also didn't feel physical pain.
He'd gotten burnt and didn't feel it. Alfred had landed a direct hit to his face, causing the clone to have a severe nose bleed and Five claimed it didn't hurt at all. That he hadn't even felt it.
"Miss Wayne."
Bird blinked a few times, resisted the urge to rub her eyes, knowing she'd only manage to smear and smudge her make up if she did.
Catching her driver's eye in the rear-view mirror, she gave a single nod, letting him know she was ready.
He got out of the car and came around to the back, opened her door and she stepped out onto the sidewalk. Pausing for a moment to eye the cafe, before adjusting her dress and heading inside.
"Bird!"
Hearing her name, Bird looked over until she spotted the one she was there to meet.
She had a fleeting thought of turning to leave, but instead she pushed her sunglasses up on her head and walked over to the small table.
"I wasn't sure you were going to come." Lee admitted as she politely stood to greet her.
"Why wouldn't I?" Bird questioned as she sat down and added, "We're family after all."
Unsure of how to take the comment, Lee let out a small nervous laugh and sat back down in her seat.
"Thank you for meeting me." Lee continued, "I thought meeting on neutral land would be better than showing up at your door."
"Scared of me?" Bird arched a brow.
Again, leaving Lee completely unsure how to respond to her.
It was difficult to tell sometimes if Bird was being playful and funny, or somewhat mean and vaguely threatening.
"No." Lee answered with a tight smile before asking, "Should I be?"
"Of course not." Bird answered a little too quickly for it to be completely believable.
Their conversation paused when the waitress came over and Bird ordered a cold brewed iced coffee with sweet vanilla creme.
"I just meant, maybe it would be a little less awkward with just the two of us meeting somewhere over being at your house, you know..." She stopped to take a drink of her latte, "With Jim there."
Bird then realized she clearly thought they were still together.
"Right." Bird gave a single nod. Deciding she wasn't going to get into how she and Jim were technically not together anymore, "Sooo..." Bird drew the word out, "What did you want to meet for?"
"I just..." Lee breathed. Pulling in a deep breath and realizing that having this conversation in real life was far more difficult than she imaged when she'd rehearsed it over in her mind.
"I owe you an apology." She finally said. Letting the words out in a single exhale.
Knowing what she did of Bird, she'd expected it to be immediately shot down or even expected Bird to break out in one of those laughs she had that made her look like the craziest person in the room.
But instead, Bird took a dink of her iced coffee through the straw of her cup and stared back at her with a near blank expression.
"I'm sorry." Lee repeated.
This time slower. More heartfelt.
"For what, Lee?" Bird questioned.
Her face slowly twisting up into a confused expression.
Lee looked at her. Her eyes going to the bruised and split skin on her cheek that was still in the process of healing.
She wondered what happened; but she didn't ask.
"For the things I said to you that night-" Lee paused to take another drink, but a sudden sick feeling rose up in her stomach and she cleared her throat and sat her cup back down on the table, "You know..."
Lee's tinted red lips angled down at the corners.
It was clear that she didn't want to make eye contact, but she forced herself to anyways.
She didn't need to finish her sentence. They both knew very well which night she was talking about.
The night Jim had been sentenced to Blackgate for the murder of Officer Pinkney.
The night he'd gotten Bird to bribe the guards like she'd done in the past; only this time to bring Lee there.
The night he'd broken up with Lee. Turned his back on both his fiance and their unborn child.
It was a dark stain in Lee's life -a dark stain on her mind that still haunted her. Not only because of the heartache she'd felt, but because of all she'd lost shortly after that.
Surprisingly another event of that night had stayed with her; the way she'd treated Bird.
Once they were back at her apartment, she'd turned and let everything out. Directed every negative emotion coursing through her veins at the wrong person.
It was so much easier to blame someone else and the person that just happened to be standing there that night was Bird.
She couldn't remember every nasty thing she'd said to her, but she could recall some of it. Most of it.
Blame, mainly.
She'd accused her of things. Blamed her for how everything had ended up.
"Oh, that?" Bird arched a brow, "Already forgotten."
She offered a small shrug to sell the nonchalance even better.
Bird took another sip of her coffee.
Directed her gaze over to the glass front display case of freshly baked pastries and pretended she was trying to make her mind up if she wanted something to eat too.
In reality that night had messed her up more than she'd ever admit to anyone -especially Lee.
If she was forced to be entirely honest, a part of her was still mad at Jim for ever involving her in that. Especially considering he didn't give her a heads up as to why he wanted her to bring Lee there.
It wasn't fair.
And she'd told him that.
That first day he was in Blackgate, when she and Bullock went to see him, she'd told him how mad she was. That it wasn't fair he involved her in that.
He knew it. Apologized, but said it was the only option he'd had.
It might have been their relationship that ended that night.
But it was Bird who'd found herself browsing the isles of a liquor store and drinking until she couldn't feel a damn thing anymore.
The memories still made her cringe.
She'd ended up on the floor outside of Bullock's apartment; where he told her she'd admitted in her drunken stupor that she and Jim had kissed.
"Bird." Lee said, drawing her attention again, "I really am sorry-"
"Wow." Bird observed. Seeming a tad bit amused at the repeated apology attempts, "This is still eating at you?"
When Lee didn't say anything. Bird offered up another shrug and said quietly, "You aren't mean to people very often, huh?"
Bird turned her head, glanced around the small cafe and then looked back at Lee, who was still watching her. Waiting for something.
If she were a better person, Bird thought, she might have told Lee that while ninety percent of what she'd said that night was out of line; there was some truth in it.
Maybe she'd have even admitted they'd kissed well before Jim and Lee had broken up.
Or maybe she'd have owned up to being much closer to him that she should have been there.
But she wasn't.
And she didn't.
"Look." Bird finally made eye contact with her, "Water under the bridge. I don't think about it and you shouldn't either."
"Really?" Lee's eyebrows jolted up, "You're not upset with me?"
"No-"
"Because the way you rushed back to Gotham from Miami..." Lee's shoulders dropped, "I thought you were trying to get away from me."
A year ago, Bird would have laughed. Confidently said she's not the person who runs away from things, but it wasn't so true anymore.
Because that's what she was doing in Miami in the first place; running away from her problems in Gotham.
"It was just time for me to come back home." Bird grabbed her drink and stood up, in one fluid motion.
"I know that Don Falcone is your father -and I just hated to think that you rushed off from spending time with him because I showed up with Mario." Lee said.
She scrambled to get to her feet now that Bird was standing. The metal legs of the chair she was in scraped against the floor, drawing eyes in their direction.
"It had nothing to do with you." Bird all but promised.
Opening her clutch bag, Bird pulled out some money and laid it on the table. More than enough to cover both their coffees and a generous tip.
She hated feeling like she owed anyone anything. Even the price of a drink.
••• a few days later •••
Bird ducked into the doors of her favorite restaurant between the few people trying to walk out and the man who was going inside.
She'd quickly slid in between them all while the doors were wide open, just barely brushing a shoulder against someone as she did.
Barely even looking up, she made her way over to her usual booth, slowing a stop when she did glance up just in time to see someone was already sitting in it.
For a brief second her face scrunched into a scowl; as if not getting her usual seat had ruined her entire day.
Though it really had been one of those weeks where everything that had gone wrong felt like the end of the world.
She was just about to turn and leave when she caught sight of the arm of a leather jacket hanging off the edge of the padded booth seat next to the person.
Pulling in a breath, she shook her head.
Jim. It was Jim.
Sitting right there in the same restaurant, at the very same booth they'd always sit in.
This place was too far out of the way of his new house and close to hers.
Making it clear he hadn't just been passing by and decided to drop in because he missed the bacon burgers and famous seasoned waffle cut fries.
He was there on purpose. Expecting her to be there.
And even though he hadn't turned around or acknowledged her presence, she knew him well enough to know he already knew she was there.
It would be all too obvious if she left now.
So instead, she blew out the breath she'd been holding and shrugged out of her own jacket just before taking her seat across from him.
"Nice picture." Jim commented, not looking up from the paper he was reading.
Bird could clearly see the article he was reading was the one next to a picture of her handing out clothes at one of the shelters.
Promotional shots of course.
All good for public relations.
Somehow this was supposed to make the work they were doing seem more important.
As if the image of her passing out clothes or food to the downtrodden would really make a difference.
As if anyone in Gotham was going to see that and believe that is how she spent her days.
"What are you doing here, Jim?" Bird asked as she reached for the glass of strawberry lemonade that had been waiting on her and opened the straw wrapper.
Apparently he was very confident in his thinking that she was going to be there that night.
So much so that he'd already ordered for them.
Would have looked awfully pathetic on his end if she'd picked somewhere else for dinner that night.
"Waiting on you." He admitted, lowering the paper and then laying it over to the side.
"Why?" Bird asked.
Jim watched her.
She wasn't watching him back. Instead she'd gotten to work on shredding the paper straw wrapper into nothing short of a fifty small pieces; just like she always did.
Deep down he had countless reasons as to why he was there right now.
Wanting to see her was at the top of the list.
He was still bothered by the last time they'd seen each other in the woods; her words still echoing around in his mind.
Then there was the fact that she hadn't reached out to him since then either.
Not that he'd been so receptive when she had, but it still got under his skin.
There were things he wanted to tell her.
Show her even.
Like how his house was mostly dry now. He'd gotten rid of the newest round of bottles he'd picked up.
He'd been trying to keep himself busy by taking on a new case acting as a private investigator.
Small steps.
But they were still a change from where he had been.
But he couldn't.
Just couldn't bring himself to start the dinner with any of that.
So instead he pushed a small, dark color photo across the table to her and asked, "You know this woman?"
Picking the photo up, Bird eyed it for a few seconds before laying it back down and sliding it back to him, "Her name is Alice. Why?"
"A new case I'm working." Jim admitted, "Selina said she thought she'd saw her at one of the shelters Wayne Enterprises opened, months back, right after the Arkham Escape."
Bird watched as he took a drink of his soda, unable to hide her surprise that he wasn't drinking at least a beer.
"Thought I'd check with you." He cocked his head to the side, "See if you knew her."
Right after the Arkham Escape is when Bird had been spending a lot of time in the actual shelters and less time in her office, since the shelters were newly opened at the time.
If she'd had more energy or felt even a smidgen more playful, she'd have acted offended that apparently the only reason he'd finally came to see her was because he was working a new case.
But she was too tired for that.
Plus, she hoped this could be a good thing for him.
Give him some purpose again.
"What all do you know about her?" He pushed.
"That her name is Alice." Bird shrugged, "I don't know her last name. She wasn't exactly the sharing type..." She seemed to suddenly process what he'd said earlier, "Wait? You're saying she's one of Strange's monsters?"
"Damn." Bird stirred her drink with her straw. The ice clinked against the glass cup. "She looked so normal."
"Her last name is Tetch." Jim filled her in, "Strange didn't turn her into anything. Her brother is looking for her, he's the one who hired me. According to him she's got something wrong with her blood. Some poison, rare. That's how Strange ended up with her."
"Hmm." Bird hummed with a thoughtful look on her face.
She remembered Alice. How timid she was. The scared of her own shadow type.
When she didn't offer up many personal details, Bird just assumed she was on the run from someone. More than likely a dangerous ex.
She hadn't considered the girl was verging on paranoid because Gotham was hunting down the Arkham Escapes. Like she'd told him; she just looked so normal.
"Do you know if she's still there?" Jim questioned, "Or if she's moved onto another shelter?"
"I don't know. I could try making a few calls..." Bird shrugged, "Why? How much is her brother paying you?"
She knew GCPD was offering five-thousand a pop, so it must be considerably more if Jim agreed to work this privately for her brother.
"She lost her parents when she was really young. Her brother tried to get her help, but Strange tricked him and locked her away." Jim reiterated the story Jervis Tetch had shared with him, "Now she's out there alone and scared."
His eyes locked with hers and with a small nod he pleaded, "So you'll make those calls?"
•••
It was well after dark when Bird and Jim were cutting through an ally on a shortcut to get to The Narrow's Bar.
Which, according to the people Bird had reached out to was the last place anyone had spotted Alice Tetch.
She wasn't sure at which point during dinner she'd agreed to be his back-up during the search for Alice.
Replaying the dinner in her head, she wasn't even sure he'd actually asked.
Maybe she'd offered to help.
Maybe it was something unspoken instead.
Either way, here she was -spending her Friday night trekking through littered streets and dark alleys with Jim Gordon.
"You miss this?" Bird questioned.
Bumping into Jim's side as she weaved to avoid walking into the corner of an old dumpster.
"Spending my Fridays with you?" Jim asked.
He didn't turn his head, but he watched her from the corner of his eye.
Giving a small shrug he joked, "A little."
Bird turned her head just in time to see the ghost of a smile on his face before it was gone.
"Are you trying to flirt with me?" Bird laughed.
Shaking her head and clearing her throat she clarified, "I mean this-" She motioned around them, "Working cases. Tracking people down. Following leads."
"Just doing whatever pays the bills." Jim dismissed.
He sniffed the air. The scent wasn't strong, wasn't fresh -but he smelled fire.
"Yeah, but that's not exactly true, is it?" Bird's voice had a touch of gravel in her tone.
Sharper than it had been.
A result of his lie.
His refusal to admit that he missed being a cop.
Coming to a stop just as they turned onto the street they needed, Jim turned to face her, a look of genuine confusion on his face at her sudden change in mood.
Bird's eyebrows raised.
Maybe he'd really convinced himself that this was the truth. That all of this was just for the money.
Amazing how far a little denial can go.
She shook her head, deciding against accusing of him of lying and starting a fight.
Not after they'd actually had a nice dinner together.
"It's down here." Bird jutted her thumb to the side.
"What the hell..." Jim breathed.
Bird looked over, watching as Jim moved closer to where the bar was.
Once a popular spot for a cheep liquor and decent jukebox tunes was now pitch black inside.
Windows were busted out and everything was covered in ash and soot.
Water was still standing on the sidewalk and shoulder of the street from where the fire department had put out the flames earlier that day.
"It's completely destroyed." Bird pointed out the obvious as she caught up with Jim outside of the bar.
"Recently so." He added; knowing it couldn't be a coincidence.
They exchanged looks before stepping into the building through one of the large front front windows that was missing it's glass.
The shattered pieces crunched under their shoes.
Broken into smaller shards and resettling on the still wet floor.
They'd only made it a few steps inside when they heard a crash.
Whirling around, they both shined their flashlights in the direction of the noise to see it was just the housing of a ceiling light that had finally crashed to the floor.
Slowly, they moved through the main level of the once popular bar.
It had clearly been a bad fire and burned for quite some time.
But also not the work of a seasoned arsonist either.
"If we find Alice. I get half of the reward money, right?" Bird questioned.
Jim, who had been looking at an old painting on the wall that had been burnt and melted into a rather eerie looking scene, looked over his shoulder to where Bird was kicking some debris out of her way on the floor.
"You want me to give you twenty-five hundred dollars?" He asked, biting back a laugh and trying to figure out her angle.
"Nice try." Bird flashed a smile in his direction, "But you already told me her brother gave you twice what GCPD pays the escapees. Meaning he gave you ten thousand."
Turning around to fully face her, Jim held his arms out to the side and pointed out, "I paid for dinner."
Fighting back a smile, Bird looked away from his face, "But the only reason we made it this far in the search is because of me."
Catching the sight of an open door in the hazy beam of her flashlight, Bird started walking towards it as she called over her shoulder to him, "If you're good at something; never do it for free."
They made their way down the stairs to the basement area, which seemed to pretty much be used as a storage space; aside from water damage wasn't harmed much by the fire.
Boxes were stacked on top of each other, some stacks reaching up to the ceiling.
Even with the scent of the fire still stuck to the walls, the old, musty smell of the basement was very noticeable.
The silence between them now was starting to get to Bird.
Since she'd seen him earlier that day she'd been wondering if he knew Lee was back in Gotham. If he knew she was engaged -and if he knew her fiance was actually Bird's older half-brother.
"So, uh..." Bird drew the vowel of the word out.
Jim, who was in front and slowly leading them through the path between boxes stacked up higher than their heads glanced back at her.
He wondered briefly if she was going to bring up the money again.
"Did you know Lee moved back to Gotham?" Bird questioned.
Trying to keep her voice steady and like she was making casual conversation and not closely watching his reaction to her words.
"I know." He nodded.
Looking over his shoulder and monitoring her reaction just as closely as she'd been watching him as he explained, "Barnes offered her her job as M.E. back."
Bird listened as he explained they'd ran into each other at the police station when he'd been there to pick up his latest bounty check for the Arkham escapees.
"So you know she's engaged?" Bird pushed.
"I heard." Jim gave another nod.
"To my brother?" Bird continued, quickly adding in, "Half-brother."
Jim was in the process of holding his hand up to silence her. He thought he'd heard a door open.
"Wait. What?" Jim asked, turning to face her.
"Mario." Bird's shoulders slouched some, "Falcone's son. My half-brother...who I knew about but didn't meet until a few months ago."
For the first time all night there was a real feeling of awkwardness in the silence that had settled between them.
There it was, that rumble inside of Bird that started moments before a laugh would break fee.
An unstable sounding, usually inappropriately timed laugh.
Reaching up with her free hand that wasn't holding her flashlight, Bird cupped her hand over her mouth in an attempt to hold the laugh inside. To choke it back down before it was set free.
"Are you serious?" Jim's voice was lower now. Near a whisper.
With her hand still over her mouth, Bird nodded. Eyes widened as if to ask why she'd make something like that up in the first place.
"Wow..." Jim breathed. One eyebrow raised up further than the other, "Small world, huh?"
"Yeah." Bird said. Her voice still muffled behind her hand.
Turning around, Bird headed back for the stairs.
Suddenly the burnt smell made it feel like smoke was still thick the air.
Clogging up her airways and turning her lungs to ash.
She couldn't breath.
"Bird?" Jim called after her.
But she didn't turn around. She didn't stop.
"Who the hell are you?" The owner of the bar yelled as he saw Bird emerge from the basement door followed by Jim just steps behind her.
They both came to a stop. Near matching expressions from having been caught totally off guard.
The owner looked between them, his gaze settling on Jim as he questioned, "You a cop?
"Nope." Jim answered.
Though Bird didn't miss the hesitation that came just before.
Like he had to really stop himself from saying yes.
Diverting the flashlight away, so he wouldn't shine it in the faces of the men now standing in the bar, Jim held his other arm up to show he was unarmed.
Bird lowered the beam of her own light, but adjusted her grip on the metal handle in case she needed to use it as a weapon.
"Well." The bar owner let out a low laugh, "If you're looking to rob the place, you're too late. The fire took everything I had."
He tossed an arm out to the side and let it fall heavily at his side.
His eyes scanning over the charred remains of his business.
"This is your place?" Bird realized.
"Yeah." He scoffed, "What's left of it at least."
"We're just looking for someone." Jim admitted. He took a few steps further into the bar, closer to where the owner was still surveying the damage and his thugs started to fan out, "Her name is Alice."
Whirling around the owner gruffly yelled, "This some kinda joke?"
"No..." Jim answered, "What's funny?"
Bird stayed in place where she was standing, but her eyes followed the two men who'd came in the bar with the owner.
Noticing how they started to separate, both moving an opposite direction around what was left of the tables. They were being surrounded.
"That crazy bitch is the one who started the fire." The owner answered.
"Why'd she do that?" Jim asked.
"How the hell do I know?" He yelled back, "Said she cut herself. Clean yourself up then, I say." He moved in a circle as he spoke, still taking in the damage, "You don't understand, she said, my blood is on the counter. Next thing I know the whole damn kitchen's in flames."
Coming to a stop, he looked past where Jim was standing back to where Bird was as he threatened, "Someone's gotta pay for this damage."
The diamonds on her necklace were glittering even in the near non-existent lighting.
"Tell me where she is and my client will pay." Jim tried to bargain with him.
"Who's your client?"
"You know where she is?"
"If I did would I be talking to you?"
"Jim." Bird said. Her voice even, but he knew by the way she'd said his name that something was was wrong.
That they needed to go.
"Thanks for you time." Jim grumbled, taking a few steps back away from the bar owner.
"No, I say when we're done!" He yelled as his two thugs pulled out guns.
One pointed their gun at Jim, and the other stepped closer to Bird, keeping the barrel pointed at her face.
Jim looked over his shoulder to where Bird was standing. Staring down the man threatening her life with steely look in her eyes.
His gaze dropped down to where she was clutching the flashlight in her hand.
"Time to teach you some manners." The bar owner said as he took a step back to get himself out of harms way and his goons jumped into action.
Jim sprang forward, using the heavy duty flashlight to hit the man closest to him in the side of the face. Stunning him enough that Jim was able to twist his arm back until the gun clattered to the floor.
With another blow of the flashlight, the man fell to the floor unconscious.
Hearing a loud noise and thuds behind him where Bird was standing.
Jim looked over to make sure she was okay.
He knew she was more than capable of defending herself, but he also knew that even after the surgery and physical therapy she'd gone through, that she continued to complain of her shoulder hurting and not feeling as strong as it used to.
But his concern had been for nothing.
Bird was fine.
He looked over to see she'd knocked the man who'd been coming after her down and then apparently broke a bar stool across his side when he was down.
The man was rolling on his side in pain on the floor, curling up into himself and fighting for air through the pain.
The one who'd really been in danger wasn't Bird at all.
It was Jim.
Who'd known better than to turn his back on anyone in a fight, but his concern for Bird had clouded his judgement.
There was loud crack sound.
For a split second everything went black and Jim was on the floor -without the slightest idea of how he'd gotten there.
The pain didn't come until Jim was struggling to get back on his feet.
There was warm slick feeling on the back of his neck and then running down his back.
"Had enough yet?" The bar owner yelled as Jim stood back up.
He raised the metal pipe in the air again. Planning to strike Jim for a second time.
But the sound of a gun shot rang out and the pipe fell from his hands, clanking onto the floor. And the man stumbled backwards. His arm felt like it was on fire. Like he'd been hit in the shoulder with a sledge hammer.
His stunned gaze landed on Bird who was holding a gun still pointed at him and it was only then that he realized he'd been shot.
Picking the pipe up from the floor, Jim swung it like a bat, colliding hard with the side of the bar owner's head and the man dropped to the floor. Still bleeding from the gunshot wound and now out cold.
Bird lowered the gun she'd swiped up from the floor and stared at Jim.
Wondering if he'd struck the man with that pipe for his own revenge or if he'd done it to keep her from killing him.
Either way, she didn't have much time to think it over when Jim dropped the pipe back to the floor and seemed to be staggering in his attempt to stay standing.
"Jim?" She rushed over to him.
Still keeping the handgun with her in case any of the men got back up and tried to move against them.
"I'm fine." He groaned in pain as he reached back and felt the back of his head.
The skin was split, sagging some at the bottom of the wide open wound.
When he pulled his hand back around to look at it, it was covered in his own blood.
"You're not fine." Bird argued.
•••
Mario had assured Bird that Jim was going to be fine.
Out of all the doctors to be working the night-shift in the ER, she thought to herself.
He'd said that Jim just needed some stitches and would probably have a headache from hell for a day or so, but aside from that would be absolutely fine.
So Bird had left.
She'd called her driver and left him with strict instructions that he was supposed to get Jim back to his house safe from the hospital.
After that she'd hailed herself a taxi and remained lost in her head for the most of the ride back to her townhouse.
But now that she was home she wasn't sure what to do.
She was exhausted. Her bones were aching from it, but her mind was a little too wired to be able to sleep.
Tomorrow was Saturday and since she didn't work weekends she figured it didn't matter if she got any sleep that night or not.
Her thoughts stalled when Bird walked through the entry hallway in her townhouse and noticed the main sitting room lights were on when she was sure she'd turned them off.
The last time she'd noticed something amiss in her house it was moments before she'd been knocked out and abducted to meet Kathryn.
Just as she reached the kitchen she sniffed the air.
Pasta?
She smelled garlic for sure.
Rounding the corner she saw Oswald sitting at her kitchen island eating what she quickly identified as left overs from the Italian restaurant she'd ordered in from the night before.
Meaning he'd raided the refrigerator while she'd been gone and had gotten into a bottle of wine, which was sitting open next to the oversized wine glass he was drinking from.
"Oswald." Bird greeted with a sigh of relief and a smile at her friend.
"Good evening, Bird." He greeted back.
One cheek puffed out from the large bite of food he'd just shoveled into his mouth.
And for a moment, fleeting as it was, the hands on the clock went in reverse and she was transported back.
Back to the old days. To her small apartment. To Oswald always showing up unannounced. Picking the lock and waiting around on her.
Back to a time when they were all each other had. When that had been enough for them both.
Of spending so much time with him that she'd had trouble figuring out where she ended and he began.
The days of being so twisted up in one another that it was like they lived in their own little world. No one else mattered.
"I was beginning to wonder if you were coming home tonight at all." Oswald admitted. His own voice echoing up to his face from the wine glass he spoke into.
"It's been a long night." She answered with a sigh.
Leaning on the island counter, she swooped the glass from his hand and took a drink.
"I had dinner with Jim." Bird admitted. Knowing he probably didn't care or want to hear about it, but she needed to tell someone and he was the only one there.
"Hmm." Oswald hummed, feeling his jaw tense as he chewed up another bite of the warmed up pasta.
"He's, uh..." Bird found herself unable to stop talking, "He's working another bounty case and needed my help. We ended up in the narrows, in a fight with some low-level thugs. Jim got hurt pretty bad."
Oswald's eyes moved past Bird to the doorway she'd came into the kitchen through. Almost as if he were expecting the ex-detective to walk in at any minute.
"Where is Jim now?" Oswald questioned.
"The hospital?" She shrugged, pouring more wine into the glass and picking it up for a drink before Oswald could reach for it, "Maybe back at his house? I'm really not sure."
When she sat the glass down again, he snatched it up.
Taking a long drink before stating, "Leaving a wounded Jim Gordon behind? That doesn't sound like the Bird I know."
"Isn't it funny?" Bird asked. The laugh she'd been holding down since the basement of the bar finally bubbling to the surface.
"I..." Oswald breathed, staring at her, "I'm not sure I follow, Bird."
"That he's the good guy." She used finger quotes, "And I'm the bad girl. The criminal. The snake. Yet, at the end of the day... I'm not so sure he's good for me."
Oswald stared blankly back at her. He didn't know what to say.
He could think of a million other conversation topics he'd rather be discussing, but for whatever reason, this was the route Bird had taken.
Though, now he couldn't deny being a tad intrigued by what she was saying.
"Does this have anything to do with the secrets you keep?" Oswald splashed another pour of wine into the glass, "Concerning what really happened to your mother?"
"No." Bird was fast to answer.
Oswald was one of the only people who knew the truth of what had happened to Lilith Wayne. Meaning he also had seen how lying to Jim about it had torn her up.
"I've made peace with what happened and the truth is, is that it doesn't concern Jim at all." Bird continued, "I'm not keeping it as some big, dark secret from him. I've just decided that he doesn't need to know."
"Ah." Oswald couldn't help but laugh, "I'm don't believe it works that way, Bird."
He knew better than anyone that the truth always comes out.
He remembered thinking he'd been so good at hiding his life from his mother when she was alive. That he could be a killer and a criminal by day as long as he'd come home to her at night and be the perfect son she believed him to be.
The night Don Maroni had told his mother the truth about him still burned like an iron in the back of his mind. The way she'd looked at him.
How she'd later promised to love him no matter what before asking if what Maroni had said was the truth.
The disappointment and heartache on her face when he lied; when he said Maroni was being dishonest.
How she'd given him the perfect opportunity to be honest. To just tell her the truth.
But he couldn't.
And it wasn't until later on that he'd realized his lying to her had broke her heart worse than learning about his violent nature.
One way or another, the truth always comes out.
But he wasn't going to tell Bird that.
For one; he knew that under the denial, this was a fact she was aware of herself.
And two; he believed she was better off without Jim Gordon.
"Anyways." Bird moved a hand through the air, "I spoke with the printing company earlier today and they said the buttons are going be delivered in the morning."
With a wide smile on her lips, Bird beamed, "Vote Oswald Cobblepot. Make Gotham great again."
His eyes fell to her teeth. Perfect and so bright white they nearly hurt his eyes in the harsh lighting from above the island counter.
With his mouth closed he ran his tongue over his own top layer of teeth.
Remembering the hour long session at the dentist he'd had earlier this week to get his teeth whitened. The smell of the solution they'd smeared on his teeth. The bright light they'd use in fifteen minute intervals.
The tingling sensation on his gum at first. Then the tightening feeling.
Followed by pain. Sheer white hot pain.
One by one it felt like his teeth were lighting on fire.
By the time he'd looked in a mirror afterwards, he was shocked to see his teeth were still in place.
The dentist had warned him ahead of time about the increased sensitivity he'd feel. No one had said a thing about it feeling like his teeth would turn into a mouth full of lit fire crackers.
When Oswald had challenged Mayor James in the upcoming election for the Mayor's seat in Gotham. Bird had been the first person he'd come to.
After all, she'd turned her image around in the media.
Went from being on trial for a triple homicide to being Gotham's sweetheart. Who now worked at her family's company and helped the least fortunate.
People rooted for her. The city was on her side.
He remembered the look on her face.
The thin lines her full lips had pressed into before telling him that, while she didn't really want anything about him to change, that if he was serious about a political career then some work was going to need done first.
He'd trusted her. Left it in her hands, not sure what to expect.
But next thing he knew, they were at the dentist and he found out they were getting his teeth whitened.
Then they were off spa that catered to Gotham's elite. Where Bird instructed them on what to do to his face.
She might as well have been speaking another language at the time, because Oswald didn't understand a word she was saying.
He'd been resistant to some it, especially when the words acid peel came up.
But he'd finally submitted and left with his face feeling smoother than polished marble.
Then they'd went to a salon where his hair had been trimmed, combed back and gelled into place.
Never in his life had he heard of eyebrow threading until he was in the chair twitching and jerking from jolts of pain as the hairs were expertly removed one by one.
By the time they'd made it to the photographer for his picture to be taken for the posters that were soon to cover the city and the buttons they were going to hand out to everyone, Oswald was still in pain and utterly exhausted.
And, for the first time in his life he started to realize that Bird didn't just wake up looking so flawless.
That no toothpaste would get her teeth as white as they were.
That apparently she put herself through a lot of pain to maintain her physical appearance.
For the first time, he started to realize his best friend was far more vain than she'd led anyone to believe.
He'd thought back to all of the times he'd told her she was beautiful. As if he'd been telling her something she didn't already know, when really she was quite aware of her own physical appeal.
Oswald had found himself staring at her nose. Remembering how badly it had been broken once when she jumped into a fight to come to his rescue.
He'd always thought it was incredible how well her nose had healed after that.
Now all he could do was wonder if she'd had surgery to fix it. If anyone's nostrils were really that symmetrical by nature.
"Oswald?" Bird questioned, tilting her head to the side with a small frown as he stared at her, "Everything okay?"
"Yes." He cleared his throat and pinned on a smile, "That's wonderful news about the buttons."
She nodded in agreement.
"And I'm also glad you're back to wearing your hair the usual way." She smiled.
She knew she'd been the one who'd pushed him into this overly polished looks for the photoshoots, but the truth was she missed her friend just looking like his usual self.
Lines formed at the sides of Oswald's eyes as he glared at her.
Did she now?
Of course, she did.
A flash of anger jolted through him.
She was spending money and time on making herself look flawless and yet she wanted him to look as homely as he always had.
He thought to himself that she wanted to grow and change and experience things in her life while expecting him to just stay the same.
The same he'd always been.
Did she even really think he could win this election?
The bad thoughts crept in like roots of a plant digging and deeper into the earth in search of water.
Burrowing and twisting.
Had her help even been for his benefit?
Maybe she'd just been having a laugh at him.
Watching him go through pain for the sake of looking better for the public eye.
Had her intentions been malicious all along?
This certainly wouldn't be the first time someone had been nice to him when really their intentions underneath were nothing but ugly and cruel.
"No." He said out loud.
Eyes pinned shut, violently shaking his head back and forth as if he could loosen the thoughts and shake them out from his ears.
Get rid of them and the insidious way they were morphing his view of the one person who'd always had his back.
"No? No what?"
Bird asked.
At his side in an instant. Her hand on his arm.
Her touch steadying him. Silencing the demons in his head.
Opening his eyes, he slowly looked at her.
Only she looked close to a handful of years younger. Less put together.
Back at Fish's dive bar. Dark jeans and boots that went to her knees. Long, carefree wavy hair that always started to frizz near the ends.
Either wearing no make up at all, or having on so much eye liner that in the dim lighting it bore resemblance to a raccoon's markings.
Ducking calls and visits from her parents unless she needed to borrow money.
Oswald's eyes locked with hers and he saw how much heavier her entire being seemed.
He'd never known her to not be haunted; he wasn't so sure she'd ever truly felt free.
But back then she'd felt lighter next to him.
Her laughs came easier. Lit up her entire face and pulled at the skin around her eyes.
That was his Bird.
Either walking on air happy or bottom of the bottle sadness. One extreme or the other.
Steady only in her devotion to him.
He still caught glimpses of that person from time to time. Under the polished, adult look she'd taken on.
But it wasn't the same.
She wasn't the same -then again, neither was he.
Oswald remembered one of the nights they'd been in her apartment. Planning and plotting to overthrow Fish and Falcone, to take the city for themselves.
Swearing that no matter what they had to do on the way to their goal, that the one thing that would never change would be them. That together, they'd always remain the same.
Foolish.
Such fools they'd been to believe time wouldn't have an effect on their bond. That they'd always stay the same.
He'd noticed a change in himself first.
The day Maroni had found out who he really was. God, that felt like lifetimes ago now. When he'd been working under an assumed name in one of the Don's restaurants.
His secret came out and in an attempt to save his own life, he'd brought up Bird's name.
After all the times of swearing her name didn't matter to him and claiming to not care about the money she'd come from.
There he was; dropping the Wayne name not so long after her parent's murders in an attempt to save his own life.
Endangered her life and well-being to save his own.
His sense of self-preservation reaching a new high; or low depending on how you look at it.
The first changed he'd noticed in Bird, the first one that really bothered him, strangely enough didn't come when she started dating Harvey Dent.
No. It was when Falcone had forced her to work under him, to work beside Victor Zsasz.
He remembered going over to her apartment and it feeling so different.
Bird had cut her hair some, been wearing it perfectly straight. The quirks he'd come to love so much at her apartment and associate with her were gone.
Everything started to feel sterile.
She didn't look or act the same anymore.
Dead eyes.
Oswald still wasn't entirely sure of everything she'd seen or had to do during that time. Bird never really talked much about it and he didn't pry.
He regretted eating the pasta leftovers now. The wine had since caused an uncomfortable heat in his stomach and his chest ached.
Memories are often times as painful as they are joyous.
He'd read somewhere once that the word nostalgia had been formed from two Greek words, one meaning homecoming and the other meaning pain, an ache.
It hurt; sometimes looking at his best friend hurt.
Like the aching pain of an old wound that just doesn't ever seem to heal up properly.
He remembered how he used to feel about Bird.
Feeling as though his life hadn't begun until he met her. Until that afternoon they'd crossed paths and nothing was ever the same again.
So, if his life hadn't begun until meeting her than it had almost made sense in his mind that his life would also end with her.
It almost had, in fact.
The night she'd taken that bullet for him. He'd been injured too but not near as severely as she was.
He'd been able to make it to a car to drive away, but she couldn't even stand up.
The police cruiser he'd stolen had run out of gas along a dark stretch of woods and he'd crawled out. Gotten to his feet with tears running down his cheeks.
He remembered getting to his feet and running into the woods. Aimlessly wandering.
His bloodstained hands landing on rough tree bark, trying to keep his balance.
Finding an old trailer to take shelter in, waiting with a shotgun on the owners to come back.
And from time to time, in his weakened, pained state, wondering why he even kept fighting.
By some twist of fate, he'd crossed paths again with Edward Nygma that night.
Who'd taken him back to his apartment and used his medical knowledge to save his life.
Even though Bird was now alive and well, Oswald wouldn't ever forget when he'd first woken up and asked about her. Only to have Nygma tell him she'd died from the injuries she'd sustained.
Oswald remembered feeling nothing at first. A complete head-to-toe numbness.
A state of shock.
It didn't make any sense at all. I
f Bird was dead then how could he still be living?
Nothing had been the same since that moment. The moment when he realized his life was a separate entity than hers.
That no matter how painful an existence it might be without her, that there was indeed life without Bird in it.
"I, um..." Oswald cleared his throat, shook his head again, "I came to tell you that I realized something at dinner with Mayor James earlier tonight."
"Oh, yeah?" Bird's head fell to one side. Her eyes narrowed in question at him.
Wondering where his mind had gone for the last several minutes.
"I know exactly what I need to win this election." Oswald announced, "Edward Nygma."
"Wh-what?" Bird nearly yelled.
Her face scrunched up like a child being told no about something they really wanted to get from the store.
Butch had told her that when she fled the city, that Oswald took to filling his time visiting Nygma in Arkham.
But she hadn't expected this out of him.
"We have a very strong base for the election." Bird argued with him, "The city is going to rally behind you and for good measure you've got Butch funneling money into the polling office. It's a slam dunk. You're going to win-"
"I'm not asking for your permission, Bird."
Oswald stood to his feet. Smoothed out his jacket.
"And I don't exactly hear you asking for forgiveness either." She copped an attitude.
"I'm here as a courtesy." Oswald explained, "I know you have some... issues, with him."
"Issues doesn't begin to cover it." Bird ran a hand through her hair, "He tried to kill my brother-"
"Ed has assured me that he knew very well it was only a knock-out gas that day."
"And he's the one who framed Jim and got him thrown in Blackgate-"
"A wrong, which you went above and beyond to fix." Oswald reminded her of the role she'd played in breaking Jim out of prison.
"Let's not forget, Bird. I was suffering and being tortured in Arkham for a crime Jim Gordon committed. We've all sinned, Bird. We've all paid for them. But now we're all free. Except for Ed."
"I don't care." Bird coldly shook her head.
She did care for him once. Back before he'd gone entirely insane.
Not many people seemed to like to him back when he was the strange forensic scientist at GCPD, but she did.
She'd even considered him a friend once.
"Have you really forgotten?" Oswald took a quick step forward, a hand on her arm as he spoke, "How cold it got at night inside of Arkham Asylum. The draft that went through the cuts of cloth they called blankets? How hard it was to sleep with all of the screaming?"
Bird's eyes dropped to where his hand was on her arm, just above her wrist. His fingers felt shaky and cold against her skin.
"You left Gotham, Bird. Left me when I was a mess over that night under the bridge with Fish. If it wasn't for my talks with Ed..."He cleared his throat again, then stressed,"He is my friend..."
And despite claiming he wasn't there asking for permission, his tone raised. Gave him away.
That after all this time, a part of him still wanted her on his side.
Still craved her love and acceptance.
He still needed her.
•••