He stood at the edge of the rooftop for what seemed like hours, waiting for the shadow he knew wouldn't ever come. After the events that had transpired just hours ago, Commissioner James Gordon stood waiting, for what, he wasn't sure, but as the moon continued to rise, he remembered their last conversation.
"Stay safe," he remembered saying. It wasn't something he uttered often, but something overtook him tonight. He felt a different feeling soak into his pores when he saw the masked figure trudge towards the edge. He saw him do it a thousand times, but he couldn't shake the feeling that tonight, something bad would happen.
He turned to face him for the last time.
"You too, Jim."
And almost like his final goodbye, the Batman, the friend he'd come to know and trust, took his last dive from atop the GCPD roof.
That was the last time he saw him alive.
The next time Jim saw him was just over four hours later in a sewer drain under the city. He remembered thinking one thing: he died in filth. Jim watched as his men lifted him out and laid him against the cold concrete. Being trained to be calm and collected in times of trial, Jim hadn't shed a tear. He instead asked his men to lift his cold body once more. Jim laid a blanket under him. He didn't want him to be cold and alone. Even though he may have died that way, Jim was with him now.
The hours faded after that, and there was far too much that Jim couldn't remember. He couldn't tell the officials any more than their last conversation. It was one he'd treasure forever.
The night's events found him here once more. This was the place he came to know and respect this masked man. It was where Jim told him about Barbara, about Harvey, about everything, and with everything that Gordon shared with him, he told nothing of himself. He died a mystery, and as close as Jim might have felt to him, he truly didn't know him at all. Sometimes he wishes he did, but other times, he is as content as he is right now. He's content with only knowing what his voice sounded like, how he walked, and how he comforted all those hurt around him. To Jim, there wasn't more he needed to know.
His thoughts were interrupted by the creak of the door opening. There was only one other person who ever hung around for him.
"Harvey," he began, "You don't have to stay tonight. I'll lock up."
"That's not what I'm here for," he answered.
Gordon worked under Harvey for 11 years, and ever since Batman emerged as a hero to this city, Gordon had to listen to his constant barrage of hatred he seemed to have. If there was one thing Harvey hated more than crime lords, it was masked men playing the hero, but tonight, there was something different in his voice. It was almost like Harvey could feel the guilt pour from him. He wasn't used to feeling that exposed, and honestly, the thought of hanging around and talking about the Batman sickened him.
"I know what you're here for, Harvey, but just stop while you're ahead. It's not worth my breath. I just want to go home."
"This is your home," Harvey interrupted as Jim turned to make a quick exit.
"The GCPD isn't my home, Harvey. My home is with Barbara, where it should've been all this time. Maybe if I'd known that all along, I could've avoided all this."
"I'm not talking about the GCPD, Jim," he said. "I'm talking about here, on this roof. This is your home. The streets, that's your home too. Anywhere he went, you were there. He was home."
Talking about him brought out something different in Jim. He was like family. The closest Jim ever had besides Barbara. He was who Jim went to for everything. He was Jim's go-to. He was the person Jim trusted with his life.
"I'm not asking you to talk about it," Harvey said, "but just know that I know how you're feeling, and I'm not asking you to be anything more than you can be right now."
Jim looked up at him. He looked a mess. His shirt untucked and his hair bunched up from 12 hours worth of nervous picking at it. That was how he always tended to look after a strenuous shift, but something about it was calming. It was the only normal he'd had all day.
"I've lost a partner, too," Harvey said. "I know how it feels. You feel like you've lost a confidant, a piece of yourself. Just know that I'm here if you want to talk."
Jim took a stab at walking towards the exit once more. "I'll keep that in mind, Harv. I'm going home. I need a shower." He left.
Leaving Harvey out on the roof alone, he looked out into the dark at another starless night in Gotham.
"Maybe I was wrong about you," he said. "Maybe I've been wrong all this time."