I was finally able to watch Gotham 5x12 and I have a few complaints about it. One, I like Barbara Kean's natural hair color better, I don't understand why they chose to have Barbara dye it red, aside from the comics, I know Barbara was a red head in the comics, but they changed some things for the show why couldn't they leave it alone? I just don't think Barbara Kean looks like Barbara Kean without her natural blonde hair. Second, when Bruce Wayne left Gotham why did he leave without saying a word to Selina? After everything they've been through together you would've think he would either tell Selina that he's leaving and why or asked her to come with him, I'm sorry but I just feel really bad for Selina. And last but not least, Jeremiah's new Joker look. I know I've mentioned this before, but I still hate his new look and since Jeremiah still sounds the same doesn't help. They said the new look was going to be a nightmare terror, well, he looks like he put on grandma's makeup wrong and it makes him look like he's old. When Jeremiah had his first Joker appearance he looked great, the green hair, pale white face, and a scary smile. Classic Joker. So that's my rant of Gotham 5x12.
The Beginning
The Gotham City Police Department, most commonly known as the GCPD, looked like absolute hell and was currently a house of horrors. Although it was an improvement to the streets and alleys of Gotham, where it was too dangerous to grab of bottle of juice from one of the tacky stores or walk without having to be on your guard for the possibility of being mugged.
"I need my pills," a large man stressed as he was brought into the GCPD with his hands behind his back, he was ignored, "I need my pills," he growled again.
"You wish," the police woman in front of him retorted, she already dealt with several people like him already today.
"Come on, where are my pills?" the man demanded.
The woman ignored him as he was brought closer to the cells, where it was crammed already.
"Back, back. Come on," she ordered the people in the cells, who hesitantly moved away from the door as she tried to unlock it with her key, she didn't get far.
The man being restrained behind her fought off the other officer, before grabbing the woman and holding her in a headlock, his arm around her neck. He reached into her belt and pulled out a gun, screaming, "Where are my pills?!"
The man shot a few rounds in the air, and all officers turned to face him, pointing their guns at him. In response, he held the gun against the woman's head.
Harvey Bullock looked up from his newspaper, with his glasses on, not even fazed by the outburst.
"Give me my pills, bitch," the man continued.
"Hold your fire!" A new voice shouted, a man, a detective, jogged down the stairs, "Hold your fire! I got this! Hold your fire."
When the younger detective reached the man, he moved a few officers out the way so he could get a better look at him. "Easy, easy. Sir, look at me. Not at them, look at me. My name's Jim, Jim Gordon. What's yours?"
The bald man flinched sweat dripping down his pale face, "I need my pills."
"Okay, everything's gonna be all right," Jim assured him. "Look at me."
Jim noticed something on the desk next to him. Picking up the bottle of aspirin, he showed it to the man.
"I got your pills right here. Huh? You want some pills?" Jim reached forward, slowly moving his hand with the pills in it over, "Here you go, here you go. Here are some pills for you, alright?"
The man instantly grabbed some, jamming them into his mouth. The man gave a sour look as he shook his head, "These aren't my pills."
Jim quickly rushed forward, snapping the gun out of his hand and freeing the policewoman from his grip. He took no time in knocking him to the floor, ignoring the jeering prisoners and the other officers glared at him.
"Sorry, guys didn't mean to bark at you like that," he apologized. "I got a little bit carried away."
To his shock, the officers rushed forward, taking the man from the floor and punching him repeatedly in the face.
"Hey, hey! Come on, take it easy!" Jim protested. "Come on, hey, guys! Hey!"
He was stopped when Harvey Bullock took his arm, and pulled him away.
"What the hell are you doing?" Bullock snarled at Jim, pointing a finger in his face. "We had the drop on him."
"Yeah, well, he's dropped, isn't he?" Jim responded
"You could've gotten hurt. Rookie mistake. Next time, shoot the son-of-a-bitch," Harvey said.
"If I shoot, that sets everybody off. Gunfire every which way," Jim explained.
"Somebody takes a cop's gun, you shoot him. That's basic," Harvey replied.
"Yo Bullock, Gordon, you're up! Double homicide, Theatre District," a cop shouted.
"Give me a break. Shift's nearly over," Bullock said back.
"Yeah, nearly," the cop retorted.
Harvey and Jim arrived at Theater District and ducked under the police tape, moving towards the other officers, and the shapes on the floor.
Neither man squirmed under the sight of the two bagged and bloody bodies on the floor, because they were both too familiar with the sight of death.
"Oh, the legendary Harvey Bullock," an officer grinned at the sight of the older detective. "No rest for the wicked, eh?"
"Tannenbaum, looking crisp. This is my new partner, James Gordon. What we got?"
"Got here myself, male, female, gunshot. Their kid saw the whole thing. Poor bastard hasn't spoke a word yet," Tannenbaum informed, tilting his head behind Jim.
Jim turned around, spotting the small frame of a boy, slowly rocking himself on a step. He was wrapped in a grey blanket, but was still shivering.
While Harvey looked over the bodies, Jim walked up to the boy.
"My name's James Gordon. I'm a detective. What's your name?" He asked, trying to sound sympathetic and not too blunt. The boy shook and whimpered in response.
Jim nodded, "It's okay. You don't have to talk." Jim glanced back at his partner, who was glaring at him.
"Bruce." The boy whispered, Gordon turned back to the boy who looked up at him, "M-My name is Bruce Wayne."
He knelt down in front of Bruce, "Can you tell me what happened, Bruce?"
Bruce's eyes glistened with tears, as the memory brought him fear - and a boiling rage. He sobbed quietly, bowing his head.
Jim sat down beside him, placing an arm over his shoulder. Bruce rejected his touch, and Jim pulled away. "When I was about your age, a drunk driver hit our car... Killed my dad, I was right next to him... I know how you feel right now. And I promise you, however dark and scary the world might be right now... there will be light. There will be light, Bruce."
Bruce softly nodded, tears still streaming down his pale face, "W-We just got out of the movies. We were walking though the alley to catch an uptown cab... and a man came out of the shadows. H-He was tall, with a black mask. He had a hat, and gloves... and shiny shoes. He took my dad's wallet and my mom's necklace... and then he shot them, for no reason. I should have done something! B-But I was too scared."
"There was nothing you could have done to stop what happened," Jim assured the boy. "But there is something you can do now. You can be strong. Be strong. I promise you, I will find the man who did this."
In the distance, a sleek black vehicle pulled up, and a man stepped out, a look of worry and sadness on his face.
"Hey, who the hell is that?" Tannenbaum asked Bullock, who had no idea.
When the man ducked under the police tape, Bruce spotted him, and shook off the blanket, running towards him. The man obliged to Bruce's crushing embrace, looking on with teary eyes as Jim walked up to him.
"James Gordon," Jim introduced himself to the man.
"Alfred Pennyworth," the man greeted back, wincing when Bruce sobbed harder.
"We're gonna get the guy that did this, sir." Jim promises.
"New boy, are you?" Alfred lightly scoffed.
"You could say." Jim admitted.
Alfred nodded in acknowledgement, "Good luck mate." He looked down at Bruce, "Come on."
Jim watches as Alfred took the crying boy to the car, he heard Alfred say to Bruce, "Don't look. Head up. Don't let them see you cry." James Gordon was determined to keep his promise to Bruce Wayne no matter what.
Jim then followed Harvey as they walked into a diner, who was slightly annoyed by his partner's actions.
"Shouldn't we be there when they move the victims?" Jim asked, as Harvey rolled his large brown eyes.
"Why? Listen, hotshot, do me a favor. Don't start talking to witnesses until I say so." Bullock told his partner.
"What's your problem?" Jim glared at him, failing to comprehend the man's uncaring nature.
"My problem, soldier boy... you just caught us a gigantic flaming ball of crap," Harvey scolded.
"Oh yeah? How's that?" Jim questioned.
"You never heard of Thomas and Martha Wayne?" Harvey questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, sure, the Wayne Foundation," Jim responded.
"Yeah, two of the richest and most powerful people in Gotham," Harvey stressed. "You can't even imagine the pressure if we don't close this quick."
"So let's close it quick," Jim replied.
"Yeah, right," Harvey muttered. "This isn't a random street robbery, Holmes. Perp could be any one of ten-thousand mopes out there."
Harvey sighed, and then took a sip of his coffee. He glances to the right when he heard the door shut, and spotted the two people who walked in, mumbling, "Oh, crap."
Grumbling, Harvey addressed the two, "Well, well, well, if it isn't Montoya and Allen. Major Crimes Unit." The woman and man leaned on the counter, staring at Jim.
"This is my new partner, Jim Gordon," Harvey introduced.
Jim thinly smiled, "Nice to meet you."
Allen and Montoya asked the two detectives if they had any leads concerning the Wayne Case. Then they attempted to persuade Bullock to let them take over the case, much to Jim's dislike, not because they had a lead but because they wanted press action. Harvey was then provoked by Allen's suggestion that he is "afraid" of the case, and Montoya's suggestion that he should "do the right thing, for once."
The two of them leave, and Harvey shouted out, "You know, I almost gave it to you. But you couldn't help yourselves, could ya'? You had to go and be disrespectful."
"Okay, Harvey." Allen winked, "Stay frosty. Good luck."
"Self-righteous do-gooding skell huggers," Harvey gritted out. "They're always badmouthing us like they're such freaking angels. Please."
Jim sighed, nodding, "I need to get going," and then he left the diner.
Jim Gordon then headed to the apartment of his fiancée, Barbara Kean. Jim was picking her up to go on their date. Barbara came out wearing a short black dress and earrings and smiled warmly at her fiancé and kissed him.
"Are you ready to go?" Gordon asked.
"Of course," Barbara smiled, and they left.
They went out to dinner to a fancy Italian restaurant. The date went well and they both enjoyed their meals. Jim then told the waiter who served them they would leave the money and tip on the table for him to get.
Just as when they were about ready to leave, Jim looked back to their table and saw a little boy around four or five with dark blond hair take the money from their table and was attempting to leave. Jim ran up to the boy and caught his arm.
The boy began to cry and beg him, "Please, please let me go."
"I'm afraid I can't do that," Jim told the boy.
Then on instinct, the child kicked Jim's leg which was enough to make him let go, and the boy ran past Barbara, then out the front door.
"Stay here, Barbara," Jim told his fiancée, before running after the child.
As Jim pursued the young boy, it didn't take long him long to spot him running into an alley on Theater District. When Jim ran into the alley after the boy, he was surprised to see him hiding behind a dumpster with a little brunette girl, who looked like she was three or four. Both children were looking up at the detective with equally terrified brown eyes.
"Leave us alone, please," the boy cried, trembling.
"Where are your parents?" the detective asked gently with a warm smile trying not to frighten the children anymore than they were already.
"We don't know," the girl whimpered.
