Disclaimer (Lengthy):
"The Batman" and its principal protagonist, Batman/Bruce Wayne, and the other cast of characters were originally created by Bob Kane and Bill Finger. The first appearance was in Detective Comics #27 (May 1939)
"The Dark Knight Rises" and its principal protagonists, Bruce Wayne/Batman, and the other cast of characters were originally created by Bob Kane and any other characters in the movie were Christopher Nolan and David S. Goyer the movie was directed by Christopher Nolan (July 16, 2012) – Novel was written by Greg Cox (July 2012)
This work is not intended for commercial use, and no permission is granted for reproduction of the text of this fiction on any other website without the express permission of the author. This is a fan work made by fans, for fans for entertainment reward only, and no money was made through the production and distribution of this work. Immediate removal of this work will occur upon presentation of a reasonable and legal request from the above named parties and their representatives, or the action of a DMCA notice.
Disclaimer (Short):
I don't own any of the characters or places, I merely have them on unauthorized loan - but I promise to return them if and when anyone from the above list (or one of their legal representatives) asks me to.
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Title: On the Edge
Summary: John Blake has just confronted Bruce Wayne with the knowledge of who he really is, but seemingly unsuccessful with getting his aid. Wanting to help Jim Gordon out in his time of need, Blake only went to the Commissioner's apartment to pick up some things for him, but he ended up picking up the phone after hearing the voice of a frantic Barbara Gordon instead.
Category: General, Friendship, and Missing Scene
Spoilers: TDKR, and the other two as well.
Timeframe: Shortly after Blake told Bruce about Jim's shooting and that he knew Bruce was Batman. – Before Bruce goes to visit Jim in the hospital.
Part One
Old Wounds
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Officer John Blake put the key in the lock of the door; it opened easily enough, though it was on noisy hinges. Blake took in the living room as he stepped into the Commissioner's apartment. The green sofa was worn, and so was the cream recliner, which had appeared to have coffee stains on it at closer inspection. There were a few pictures on the wall as well on the shelf hanging on the far wall. The tan rug on the floor was also old, and looked like it needed a sweeping.
As Blake walked into the room, an old family portrait caught his eye. It had to be at least five years old, but looking closer, it must be older. The woman in the picture had to be Gordon's wife, Blake knew right off. Never officially stated, but it was whispered among other officers at the GCPD that the Commissioner's wife had left him seven years ago. They separated but never divorced.
The young boy and girl in the photograph had to be the Commissioner's children. He could not recall their names, though. They had been young in this photo, no more than about ten and eight. Living in an orphanage, through his pre-teen and teen years made John able to judge a person's age.
There were school photos of both the boy and girl on the shelf that was against the wall. Some had been taken in grade school while others when they were older, high school age. The young blond haired boy in one picture had grown steadily after several photos, he was now a young man and his blond hair had darkened to brown. The young girl with her hair in pigtails matured from a pre-teen with braces into a young woman with reddish blond hair down to her shoulders.
Glancing back at the family portrait again, John mathematically counted back the years to when District Attorney Harvey Dent, Gotham's own White Knight died. The eighth anniversary had just passed a few days ago. The same night the Batman had murdered him, another person, as well as two cops, and also a notorious mob boss, or so it stated in the official statement, by James Gordon. What Blake had asked him a few nights prior though was who he thought the Batman was, Gordon's confirmation was he did not know who was under the cowl. Although he suspected that the Commissioner was hiding something about that night. The younger man knew better, he knew that the Batman had taken the blame for it. The question was why? The rookie cop had his suspicions that the Commissioner knew the answers, but would not answer his questions.
He wondered if going to Bruce Wayne's home this afternoon had been a bright idea. Blake confronted the man about his suspicions on who Wayne was. John had been astonished to see Wayne walking around with the aid of a cane. The wealthy man did not hold the image of his billionaire playboy self, let alone the once legendary feared Batman.
Thinking back on it, sharing his story, John thought of his own past. The memories of St. Swithin's and Father Reilly, the place he had just visited only a day or so ago because of the dead kid he was investigating in the sewer came back to him.
John never shared that much of his past with anyone before. Then again, he wondered how many people knew or figured out that Bruce Wayne was Batman. To be more precise Wayne had been the Batman. Blake wondered what changed Wayne so much that he stopped being the Dark Knight. It was true with the Harvey Dent Act, violent crime was almost nonexistent, but there would always be crime.
Wayne was nothing more now but a recluse, worse he barely was a shell of the man he once was. John hated that, but he at least tried to talk to him.
What's done is done, John thought. Is Wayne going to do anything with the information I divulged to him, though? Is Batman, even after an eight-year abandonment?
Once the young cop had said what he had to he had not stuck around. No sooner had Blake got into his patrol car there had been a dispatch; one he would have answered had another one of the guys beaten him to it. Being a rookie for a year now, and only barely a half a dozen arrests, he would jump at any call he could get. That opportunity lost, he decided go to the hospital. John wanted to see how the Commissioner was doing; he had not seen him since he pulled him out of the water from the sewer the previous evening.
The Commissioner had not looked good. Gordon was lying in a hospital bed hooked up to machines, which monitored his vital signs that were disturbingly low. At least he was alive. John was thankful that he listened to his instincts about going into the sewers to search for the Commissioner. It still angered the young cop that Peter Foley had been foolish to try to wait before looking for him. He was the Deputy Commissioner, and he would not go and look for the Commissioner? Had Blake followed his superior, the Commissioner would be dead.
The Commissioner had not really been resting but had managed to talk to Blake a little. He had wanted the rookie cop to get him some things from his place. So here he was at Commissioner Jim Gordon's apartment on an errand to get him some things.
Of course it wasn't like I'm the Commissioner's errand boy now.
John really did not mind. It gave him something to do and the Commissioner did deserve to be more comfortable in the hospital. He would be more alert and have lower pain medication in the coming days.
The errand itself were for Blake to get things like - a change of clothes, mostly sweats, a robe, toiletries, and any files the older man had been currently working on. That sort of surprised the rookie in a way, he knew that the Commissioner was dedicated to his work, but to the point of bringing files home?
The place certainly lacked a woman's touch. The apartment looked too much like a bachelor pad, much like John's own. This one was big enough to fit a family, not a single man.
Blake only meant to peek in the kitchen; he knew he was prying. Maybe it was out of habit from being a cop. Maybe he was just plain curious to know how Jim Gordon lived.
The kitchen was a bit of a mess. There was a coffee cup in the sink, the dishwasher had dirty dishes in it, and the trash bin had almost nothing but take out tins it. The table had files stacked on it, but they were at least neat.
John shook his head sadly. He knew that the Commissioner was practically married to his job, but that was pathetic. Blake knew he should not do anything but he set out to quickly set the coffee cup in the dishwasher, and give a quick scan to see if there were any other dishes before starting it. Blake gave the counter, sink as well as the table a quick but efficient cleaning, after he grabbed the files. Once the files were placed in the living room, he came back to take care of the garbage. As John took the bag out of the can, and wrinkled his nose slightly at the odor. The young cop had smelled a lot worse growing up during his brief time on the streets after leaving the orphanage. He took it out and tied it closed. He would throw it out when he left.
Blake's own place was not perfect, but it was home. After being on the streets for a few months when he was a teen had taught him some things that most people did not know. Despite almost no one knowing his past, that did not mean that people knew nothing about him. The guys at the police head quarters knew some of the general stuff, that he was an orphan; his parents had died when he was kid; and that he got bounced around in the foster care system.
They did not know however that his mom had died when he had been very young, in a car accident; it was something he barely remembered. His dad, he had never really been around after that, nor had been much of a father. All the same it was not fair. John became an orphan at the age of nine because his old man got shot from a stupid gambling debt.
Why was he even remembering this now? Was it because he revealed it to Bruce Wayne less than an hour ago? That could be the reason.
As Blake headed down the hallway, he saw most of the doors were closed. He passed one that was the bathroom, and the only door that was open was at the end of the hall.
The bedroom was nearly as bad as the kitchen in its own way. The bed was unmade, but sheets did look like they half-heartily pulled up to look somewhat neat. There were dress shirts hung over the knob of the closet door along with a tie. The room itself was mostly bare save for the bed and the bureau. On top of that sat some more files. Next to the files were a few books. Looking that the titles, John was not completely surprised that the Commissioner had a taste for classics. Pulling one out of the pile, he decided he would put it with the Commissioner's things. Gordon could not just do nothing but look over files once he was on the mend.
Going over to the closet, Blake found a duffel bag on the top self of a hutch. He set out getting the clothes and other items out of the dresser before moving to the bathroom for a toothbrush. Blake found that along with toothpaste and a comb. The Commissioner had not specified if he wanted any shaving equipment brought. He noticed the robe and grabbed that for him also. Once he put everything in the bag, except the files, he left the room.
John made his way back to the living room with the duffel bag and the files. He now had everything and there was nothing left to get. All Blake had to do was take out the trash. Grabbing the bag, he quickly went outside and went around back to put it in dumpster.
The cop had the bag with the Commissioner's clothes, and his files under his other arm. Just as Blake opened the door to leave the phone began to ring. He stopped, wondering if he should just leave or stay long enough to at least catch the message on the answering message. John figured it couldn't be the Commissioner; he was took weak yet to call anyone. Sighing, he paused, waiting to listen to find out who the person was.
The phone went to the answering machine, the voice on the machine was not Gordon's but a woman's: You have reached the home of the Gordons'; please leave your name and number and a brief message after the beep. But if you are a telemarketer, my husband 'will' arrest you.
Blake was not sure what surprised him more, hearing the woman's voice on the machine, or that the woman's voice was the Commissioner's wife.
The Commissioner still-
The voice that came over the answering machine shook him from his thoughts quickly. "Daddy, this is Barbara. I've been trying to reach you. Where are you?"
John felt bad for the young woman; she must be out of mind with worry. He could hear the anxiousness in her voice. Blake hesitated, debating whether or not to pick up the phone. Her next words though made his decision.
"I haven't been able to reach you on your cell, and I'm not getting an answer on this phone either. If I don't hear from you by tonight, I'm going to get a plane ticket to Gotham, college tuition money be damned."
Quickly setting the bag down on the floor along with the files, John ran for the phone. The rookie was thankful he remembered noticing in the kitchen, resting on the headset, which meant he did not have to hunt for it. Blake hit Talk.
"So I better hear from-" she stopped as soon as John picked up the phone. "Daddy?"
"No, I'm not him, Ms. Gordon," Blake started. He could not continue when she interrupted.
"Who is this?" she demanded to know.
"Officer John Blake," he introduced himself. "I work under your father, Ms. Gordon."
"Where's my father? What's happened to him?" Although the young woman demanded answers, Blake could tell her voice held fear and worry.
John did not think it was wise to sugarcoat the truth from her. At the same time, unlike confronting Bruce Wayne earlier with the same information about the Commissioner, he could not share what had happened in the sewers. The only reason he confided in Wayne was because Batman needed to know.
A lot of good that did, John thought sarcastically. He wondered if Wayne even cared what happened to Gordon, the billionaire's expression gave nothing away on that matter one way or another.
"He's at the hospital recovering from gunshot wounds. None of them were life-threatening," Blake added quickly. "He's a bit weak from blood loss, but he'll be fine in a few weeks."
"He was shot?"
"Yes," he went on to explain. "He was shot in the upper chest near his right shoulder and also another one gazed his lower left side missing his kidney."
"Was there any other injuries?"
"No, Ms. Gordon." John lied. Though the Commissioner's near drowning may be counted as an injury, Blake could not tell his daughter the cause of it. But what else was he going to tell her if she demanded to speak with her father?
"Please call me Barbara," she requested of him, which was something he had not expecting her to say.
"Ah, sure," Blake answered a bit uneasily, one with lying to her, and two she was the Commissioner's daughter. He simply did not feel comfortable being on a first name basis with her. He sure as hell was not going to tell her his first name.
There was silence on the other end for a moment, but she stated, "I still plan to come and see my father. I still plan to get that plane ticket."
It was Blake's turn to go silent. Finally when he spoke he tried to with care, "Listen," he paused, "Barbara, that might not be such a good idea."
"Why not?"
"Your father's recovering, but I'm sure he would want to ensure you that he was going to be fine," he told her. "I can give you the number you can reach him at."
"I'm pretty sure he's not going to want me to come down," she darkly uttered.
John did not say anything; he kept any comments to himself. She did have a right to worry of course, her father nearly died. But at least she had parents to worry about. That pain never faded.
"Would you like the number?" Blake asked instead.
"Yes, please."
John knew the conversation was going to be coming to a close once he gave her the number. "Is there anything else I can do?" The rookie cop doubted he could much else, but he felt that at least offering was a kind gesture all the same.
"No, that's all. Why are you at my father's apartment, anyway?"
"Just getting some things for him," Blake answered her, keeping it to the point.
"That was nice of you to do for him."
He was not sure what to say to that. So he replied, "I would just wait at least until tonight to call him. He was resting last I saw him," Blake informed her which wasn't quite a lie. John figured if he tried getting her to put off calling the Commissioner she would just came to Gotham on her own. Although that still seemed like a high possibility.
"I'll call tonight," she affirmed. "And… thank you for being there."
"It's not a problem," John ensured her, "I'll let your father know you'll be in touch with him."
"Okay. Good-bye."
"Good-bye," Blake hit End after he heard her hang up. He put the phone back on the headset.
John went back to the living room to grab the duffel bag and the files so he could go back to Gotham General Hospital. It seemed like fate was not on his side today.
Blake had to answer a dispatch on his radio just as he left the apartment. It looked like the Commissioner was going to have to wait for his things. It was not like he was alert enough to go over the files anyway.
Since Blake's partner, Tyler Ross, had the day off and was spending it with his family that had left the young cop to handle any call that he got on his own. The call came in from a teenager whose charge they were watching had gotten their head stuck between two posts of a fence in the backyard. When Blake got there, the child was breathing normally, though the little boy had a few red marks and scraps on his hands and neck from trying to get his head back through the fence.
After trying to keep the sitter calm and have them keep trying to reach the child's parents; John talked to the child about cars. It was the thing that children enjoyed and kept him distracted from his predicament, until the fire department came ten minutes later. While the fire department got its equipment to cut one of the boards from the fence, Blake continued to talk to the young boy to keep his mind off of what was going on.
Just as they were almost finished with the board the boy's mother came home. She would have ran outside hadn't one of the firefighters stopped her. Blake had a harder time keeping the child's focus from what was going on. By the time he feared the child would try to struggle to free himself, the board was lifted and he was free. As soon as a fireman got him and he was on his own two feet he flew to his mother's arms in tears.
As Blake got back into the car again it was late afternoon, and the sun was starting toward its descent in the western horizon. He just figured he would head back to the police HQ to drop off the patrol vehicle and finish up for the day. He would have to write up a report about the incident with the child.
End of Part One
A/N: Anyone who's followed/reviewed my other fics on Spider-Man or Narnia ones, I'm sorry I haven't updated in 'years'. Lack of inspiration I suppose, though I know that's no excuse.
Thanks goes out to Mark C for the beta and input on the fic though not seeing the movie yet. Also to The Writing Therapist for reading this as well as the input on the fic.
Thanks for reading. Please review. Jenn