The Hero The City Deserves;
Rating: K+
Characters: Jim Gordon, Two Face, Gordon's family, and of course The Dark Knight himself.
Summary: MAJOR SPOIER ALERT – you've been warned – for the ending of The Dark Knight. This is through Gordon's pov, but if I get a few reviews, I might do it from other povs as well.
A/N: This is my first fanfic. Please, no flames. However, criticism is aloud. Please review? I've seen the film once, so I know the quotes aren't all correct. I apologize.
Gordon's pov;
I couldn't believe it had resorted to this.
"Dent!" I called, my police boots clicking on the steps as I moved silently up into the burned building. Everything about me was charred, but I had didn't let my mind roam to what had happened here; I had other things on my mind – and that was finding and getting my family home safely.
The drive here had been a long one, much longer than what I had remembered. Perhaps it was the suspense from it all. My heart pounded roughly in my chest in fear of what was happening, and it had yet to slow since I had received the phone call. My wife, my son, and my daughter – my world, and I was in danger of losing them.
I hadn't been paying attention, my mind racing in sync with my heart. I soon found myself landing on the burnt remains, the breath flying from my lungs. I gasped, looking up in search of what had slammed into me. . Something moved in the darkness, and I recognized it as the gruesome looking Harvey Dent.
"This is where they brought her, Gordon. This is where your men handed her over." He paused, closing the one eye he could close. "This is where she died." His head hung, the charred side facing me. He glanced out the open wall of the building, as if contemplating something.
"I know, I was here, trying to save her." I said, my voice surprisingly strong for the situation. I just wanted to find my family. I glanced about, but I saw no sign of them.
"But you didn't." My eyes darted back to him at the sound of his harsh whisper.
"I couldn't!" I cried in alarm, my voice raising slightly, yet shame was clearly laced within my words.
"Yes, you could have. If you had listened to me - if you stood up against corruption instead of doing your deal with the devil!" He growled, his eyes locking with mine.
"I was trying to fight the mob!" My yell shocked me as it echoed through the burned building.
The sound of a gun cocking in the darkness made me flinch. Was that why I was here? So he could kill me? And what of my family, had he already killed them?
"You wouldn't dare try to justify yourself if you knew what I lost!" His voice was now at a yelling tone, his tone angry enough to cause me to flinch once more. "Have you ever had to talk to the person you love most? Had to tell them it's going to be alright, when you know it is not? Well, you're about to know what it feels like, Gordon. Then you can look me in the eye and tell me you're sorry."
I instantly knew why he had my family, and I swear my heart stopped beating for a moment. I stared at him in alarm and my heart jump started again. It slammed into my ribs so hard, if it was possible, it would have bruised. "You're not going to hurt my family, are you?" It was a stupid question to ask, when I already knew the answer.
He smirked. Well, half of his face did. The other half was turned into a permanent snarl. He just about made the Joker look handsome. He moved silently over to a corner. And there they were, my family hidden by the shadows. My wife was hugging our children closely to her chest, her arms around each of them.
"No, just the person you love most." He whispered, and I saw his silver pistol pointed at my wife's head.
"Put the gun down Dent." Panic flooded through me and anger mixed in for good measure, yet my voice remained stern and calm. My wife cried loudly, her voice breathless and her breathing was near hyperventilation. "Please." I whispered into the darkness surrounding us. "Please," I reached out towards my family. When he didn't move, I lost my composure. I cursed loudly, hating that I had in front of my children. "Stop pointing the gun at my family, Dent!"
In answer to my raised voice, he snatched my son from his mother's arms, yanking him from her grasp and dragging him away from her and towards the open wall before all of us. "No, Jim, stop him!" My wife cried, her voice breaking as she tightened her grip around her daughter. Sobs wracked her small frame.
"Harvey?" I questioned. So this was Gotham's white knight. I shook my head. "Harvey!" I shouted, unsure if these were empty threats or not. "I'm sorry!" My voice was harsh, and didn't sound like my own. I forced myself to continue. "For everything! Please, don't hurt my son." The last sentence came out as a barely audible whisper.
He seemed quite for a moment, watching me closely, seemingly contemplating. But the moment was shattered when the sound of barking dogs and police officers filled the air.
He grew angry. "You brought you're cops?" He sneered, one eye narrowing at me.
"All they know is this is a situation. They don't know what, they are just making a perimeter."
"You think I want to escape from this?" He sounded shocked. Then, he growled loudly. "There is no escape from this!"
"You don't want to hurt the boy, Harvey." The rough voice cut in our conversation, and I had never been so happy to hear his raspy voice in my life. There, in the shadows stood The Dark Knight himself.
"It's not about what I want!" Harvey cried. "It's about what's fair! You thought we could be decent men in an indecent time. But you were wrong. The world is cruel. The only morality in a cruel world is chance - unbiased, unprejudiced, fair. His son has the same chance she had – 50/50."
Fifty/Fifty, that hit hard. It makes your heart hurt knowing that there is only a 50 chance that my son was going to live to see dawn.
"What happened to Rachel was not chance. We decided to act." Batman rasped, standing unmoving in the shadows. He visibly winced, his words sounding Forced.
"Then why was I the only one who lost everything?"
Batman looked worse for wear. I had never seen him so tense, and he shifted slightly. "You weren't." He said simply and almost smoothly in almost a normal voice, and I froze.
Had he been close to Rachel? That voice sounded so familiar... It was a simple reminder that this was a man underneath the suit, not just a vigilante that roamed the streets of Gotham all the time. I probably would have thought the matter through a little more, but I was too busy coming up with useless plans to get my son out of Harvey's grasp.
"The Joker chose me." Harvey continued like he hadn't heard Batman.
"Because you were the best of us!" Batman's voice grew louder, interrupting Dent before he could go any farther. "He wanted to prove the even someone as good as you could fall."
"And he was right."
"You're the one pointing the gun, Harvey. So point it at the people responsible." Batman was now fully out of the shadows, his dark eyes never once leaving the once White Knight of Gotham.
"Alright, fair enough. You first." Harvey silently flipped the coin, a light cling was made, and it landed back on his hand. He flipped it and looked down at it.
Before I could tell what it was, a gunshot went off, and there was a thump. Astonishment and fear coursed through me, and I stared at the now empty space Batman had stood. He now lay motionless on the ground. He had just killed Gotham's only hope.
Harvey didn't even flinch. He lifted the silver gun to his head, and watched me sternly. "My turn." He flipped the coin and looked down at it. He didn't even note it, and I assumed it landed on heads. He had the gun pressed to my son's head. His stare at me was unwavering.
I knew then there was no stopping him. Batman was now bleeding on the floor motionless, and I had no way to stop him from harming my son. There was only one thing to do – beg. "Harvey, you're right! Rachel's death was my fault! Please don't harm the boy. My boy." My voice cracked, and I shifted in the ashes. I could hear my son's heavy breathing, and his mother's hysterics off to my left.
"Tell your boy it's going to be okay. Lie – like I lied." He growled.
"It's going to be all right son." I whispered, praying for a miracle, that the coin would land on heads.
The coin was flipped into the air, but it never landed in Harvey's hand. In a black blur, Dent was tackled from the building. My wife cried out, and I leaped to my feet and rushed to the edge. Batman was hanging on a pole with one hand, the other arm wrapped cautiously around my son. He groaned and pushed the boy up with all his strength into my waiting arms. My wife rushed over and we hugged. I turned to pull Batman back up as well, but I saw his grip loosen. 'Oh no.' I thought as I reached out to grab for him, but his grasp slipped off the wooden beam.
There was a crash as his body hit several planks of wood, snapping them with his weight. His fall seemed longer than it really was, and it ended with a loud thud. I rushed down the fire escape, boots clanging loudly on the metal, and I silently feared the worst. My son's broken voice called from the ledge. "Dad? Dad, is he okay?"
I stopped next to his motionless body. Blood coated his suit where he had been shot in the stomach. His breathing was labored, but he pulled himself up onto his knees without my assistance.
"Thank you." I whispered. I was panting, struggling to loosen the strangle hold fear had on my heart.
"You don't have to thank me." He managed to spit out the words. I was worried about him to say the least.
"Yes, I do." I said, remembering our meeting on the rooftop when I had first installed the bat signal. He said I'd never have to thank him, but that was not the case this time.
He made no effort to move, his eyes landing on Dent. He pulled himself to his feet, but didn't speak.
"The Joker was right. Every chance we had of fixing the city dies with Harvey's reputation. We bet it all on him. The Joker took the best of us and tore him down. There goes our hope."
"No!" His tone startled me, his dark eyes piercing into my own. After struggling to speak, he got such a simple word out so easily. "They must never know what he did."
"Six dead, two of them cops. How do you hide that?"
"The Joker cannot win." He murmured, kneeling beside Harvey's motionless body. The gruesomely burnt side of his face was facing upwards. With a black gloved hand, Batman turned that side down, leaving the unblemished side up. "Gotham needs its true hero." He mumbled, more to himself than me.
"No." I whispered, knowing where he was going before he even offered.
"You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain. I can do those things, because I'm not a hero. I killed Dent. I killed those people. That's what I can be."
"No, no, no!" I said painfully, pleading with him. "You can't, you're not!" I stared at him helplessly.
"I am whatever Gotham needs me to be." He whispered. Then, he was gone.
Silently, he rushed off, the police dogs getting unleashed after him. He ran to his batpod, and sped off into the night. I would play his charade, but I would be forever grateful.
This city needed him, even if he was the Dark Knight - the hero the city deserved, but not the hero the city needs.
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