AN: Recommended listening: "Hayling (Max Cooper Remix)". I originally did a take on this backstory with the regular version of 'Hayling' on heavy repeat, so since this is sort of a remix...heh. I don't know, either.

Mrs. R. will mum you to death. Poor Crane. Every time she sees him she tries to shove food down his throat. There's nothing he can do about it, either. Nothing.

Jim Gordon looks at the house in front of him and thinks, very Gotham.

The place is a tall, Victorian house that's been here forever. It looks like it's falling apart.

But he's not here to admire the architecture, he's here to look at the body.

At four-thirty this afternoon, they got a phone call about 'm-my grandmother...she's not moving, there's a lot of blood, send somebody, please...'

So here they are, at this old house on the outskirts of town. They brought an ambulance, but he doubts they'll need it.

"Christ."

Harvey went on ahead, and Jim hastens to find him and see what got such a reaction out of him.

Oh.

Mary Keeny is lying in the doorway of a smaller building behind the house, torn to shreds. Christ, what happened?

Ed's there already, looking like a kid on Christmas and not even bothering to pretend otherwise.

"Look what I found!" He holds up a handful of black feathers. "She was clutching these. And look at the head, see those gouges? Birds."

"That's...that's great, Ed. Good job."

"I'm gonna go, um...talk to the kid."

"Yeah, I'll help."

Partly it's because Harvey has no gift with kids. Mostly it's because he caught a glimpse of a shredded eyeball hanging out of its socket.

But he'll blame Harvey to make himself feel better.

They find the kid sitting on the steps, arms wrapped around his knees. He's pale and shaking and when he sees them he does his best to curl into a ball.

"Hey." Jim kneels down in front of him. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay. My name is Jim Gordon, and this my partner, Harvey Bullock."

Harvey lifts a hand. The kid looks from one to the other and uncurls a little bit.

"Jonathan Crane."

"You called us, right?"

He nods.

"I-I found her...when I got home from school this afternoon, I didn't know what to do, I just-"

"It's okay, it's okay."

"What on earth is going on?"

A short, stocky woman in a blue bathrobe is marching across the yard. Harvey tries to block her but fails and then she's elbowing Jim aside to sit next to the boy.

"Jonathan? What happened, sweetie, what's going on?"

"Granny...she's dead, I don't..."

He breaks and she pulls him into a hug, rocking him back and forth and making quiet shushing noises. Harvey shoots Jim a look that clearly says, the fuck?

"Um, ma'm?"

Harvey steps forward, blinks, and says, "Mary?"

"Not now."

That tone reminds Jim of his mom when she was...less than pleased. This can wait for a minute.

Eventually Jonathan calms down enough to allow himself to be stood up and brushed off, and then the woman turns to them.

"Good to see you, Harvey. How's the nose?"

"Healed up, you know."

"Um..."

"Jim, this is Mary Richardson, she works at the clinic by the station. Mary, this is my partner Jim Gordon."

"Pleasure."

"Hi."

"Jonathan, go on and lie down."

"I think they..."

"Go on."

He looks from one to the other and Mary gives him a nudge.

"But..."

The look she throws him could silence Ed and the kid turns around without another argument.

Well. Back to the corpse it is.

God, he hates Mondays.