Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at /works/14505408.

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: M/M Fandom: Gotham (TV) Relationship: Jim Gordon/Jerome Valeska, if you squint Character: Jim Gordon, Jerome Valeska Additional Tags: Death, Violence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Injury, Rescue, Assault, No Smut, Implied Attraction Stats: Published: 2018-05-01 Words: 1336 A Not So Good Samaritan

by RigorMorton

Summary

Jerome is wandering the streets of Gotham late at night, after just having escaped Arkham, when he comes across two men beating someone in an alleyway. Before he walks away, he realizes their victim is Jim Gordon. He reluctantly intervenes.

Notes

This idea literally just hit me today.

Jerome skips up and down the sidewalk, whistling cheerfully. He's just escaped from Arkham for the second time, and is in a particularly good mood.

He forgot how much he loved Gotham's dark and dangerous streets in the wee hours of the morning. The blare of sirens in the distance - sometimes even screaming. The way the moonlight reflects off the dank, trash riddled puddles by the sidewalk. Ah, what a town.

Jerome kicks a beer bottle out of a puddle and watches it fly and clank loudly down the street.

He smirks, putting his hands in his pockets as he continues his way down the alley.

In the distance he hears voices and stops in his tracks, giving a quick look around to see where it's coming from.

He hears an evil laugh and the sound of someone gasping and spitting out blood.

"None of my business." He mutters to himself, as he turns around to walk in the other direction.

"Not so tough now. Huh, Gordon?" The strange man laughs again.

Jerome cocks a brow. 'Could he mean Jim Gordon?' He thinks.

His curiosity gets the best of him. He has to know what this is about.

Jerome turns back and tiptoes over to the corner, peaking his head around the wet, brick wall. And sure enough, there's a bloody faced Jim Gordon down on his knees with two men. One really big guy towering over the detective, and a shorter one standing behind him.

Obviously Jimbo did something to piss these two off. Probably arrested them in the past.

Jerome is about to quit while he's ahead and just be on his way.

He starts to walk off, but the sound of a loud, painful grunt, and a thud, pulls at him.

He gives a glance over his shoulder and sees Jim keeled over holding his stomach - the side of his bleeding face pressed into the filthy ground.

Jerome really has no reason to help him. Why should he. Jim would arrest him first chance he got. Hell, Jim Gordon's the main thing standing in his way - the thorn in Jerome's side.

He turns his back and attempts to walk off again.

"You know what they did to me in prison, Gordon?"

Jerome gulps. This can't be good.

The sound of a belt unfastening stops the kid dead in his tracks. He grits his teeth realizing that Jim would help him if it were the other way around.

"Blimey." He mutters to himself, turning back around to attempt to rescue the detective.

Unfortunately Jerome is unarmed. He's gonna have to be resourceful. If he can at least get the big one subdued, maybe the little guy'll just run away.

Suddenly it hits him… the bottle.

Jerome jogs quietly over to the beer bootle he'd kicked, and picks it up, gripping the neck tightly.

The sound of a zipper prompts him to move faster.

He'd like to just sneak up behind the big guy and whack him in the head, but the other guy'll see him.

He's gonna have no choice but to confront them head on.

Jerome stomps down the alleyway, bottle in hand.

"Hey!" He shouts, gripping the bottleneck tighter.

The two men look at him smirking and cocky, like they know they can take him.

"Who the fuck is this clown?" They look at each other laughing.

Jim looks up at Jerome through heavy eyes.

Jerome can see the instant recognition in them.

"Buzz off kid. This ain't your business." The little guy says.

"Can't do that." Jerome holds the bottle up, threateningly.

"Let him go."

Both men burst out laughing.

"Kid, get your fuckin ass outta here, or you're next." The big guy points his finger angrily.

Jerome sees red. He's been threatened plenty, but not with anything this terrible.

He gulps angrily, holding his ground - staring both men down.

"Son? You really think you're gonna get close enough to me, to hit me with that thing?"

The men look at each other and laugh again.

"No." Jerome shrugs.

He raises his hand and chucks the bottle through the air. It flys down a straight line, right into the big goons forehead.

The man's eyes cross as his knees buckle underneath him. He keels over and hits the ground with a thud, leaving the smaller guy in awe - his mouth falling open.

"I grew up in the circus." Jerome shrugs.

He stomps toward the other man, who seems frozen in place, and picks the bottle back up, smashing it against the dumpster.

Jerome thinks about just scaring him into running away, but considering what they were about to do to Jim, he can't just let it go.

He swings the jagged bottle right into the guy's neck, dragging it along until blood is spurting all over his arm.

The man falls face down into the dirt, gurgling on his own blood.

Jerome gives his body an angry kick before running over to Jim.

The detective groans and tries to pick himself back up.

Jerome helps him get up on his knees at least and puts a gentle hand on his back.

"Are you ok, Jimbo?"

Jim looks up at him with genuine shock in his eyes. He can't believe Jerome Valeska of all people just rescued him.

"I'm fine." Jim sniffles. He spits out a mouthful of blood, running his tongue over his bloodied teeth.

Jerome's not convinced.

He stands up and offers his hand out to the detective.

Jim grabs it but groans loudly, unable to get to his feet.

He had already recieved a good beating before Jerome showed up, and every part of his body hurt.

"Fuck." Jim mutters sitting back down on the ground.

Jerome actually feels a little bad for him. It's strange seeing the great Jim Gordon so fragile and vulnerable.

He kinda likes Jim this way. But not in a sadistic way, like one might think. More like he sees the seemingly unbeatable detective as human for once - relatable even.

"My phone…" Jim pants, pointing to his flip phone that the two goons had kicked a few yards away.

Jerome runs to grab it, and walks it back over to Jim with hesitation.

Jim will obviously have to tell them Jerome is there and which direction he went, when he inevitably runs off.

He looks down at the phone in his hand and gives Jim a concerned look. Both men just look at each other for a moment, before Jerome flips open the phone and dials 911 for him.

He hands the phone to Jim and lets out a sigh.

Jerome knows he should probably bolt and get the hell out of dodge before the cops can get here, but for some reason he stays.

Maybe just to make sure the detective recieves help before passing out.

He listens intently as Jimbo talks to the operator.

"This is detective Jim Gordon. I've been attacked in an alley behind the diner on third. Two men are dead."

Jim looks up at a nervous looking Jerome. He gulps and hangs up the phone.

Jerome blinks in surprise. No mention of him. But why?

He opens his mouth to speak, but Jim cuts him off.

"Get the fuck outta here." Jim grimaces.

A stunned Jerome just stands there for a moment, about to ask why, but is interrupted again.

"Go before I change my mind."

Jerome nods and turns to run away.

He heres the detective yelling at him in the distance.

"Don't make me regret this!" Jim shouts at him, making Jerome crack a smile.

He turns back to look at him, running backwards, trying not to trip - sirens approaching in the distance. "Eh. Can't stay out of trouble for too long, 'd miss me too much!" He cackles, turning back around and jumping a chain link fence.

Jerome teases him, but he supposes he could behave for a week or two for his old pal, Jimbo.

He wouldn't do it for anyone else though.

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