Chapter 9

Jim cringed. Here we go again, he thought, mentally preparing for another battle with the stubborn, yet desperate young man. He'd known since Bruce had started talking again that there was at least one topic they wouldn't be able to avoid that night: Harvey Dent and the sacrifices Batman had had to make. Jim now had to convince Bruce not to give up but to continue his fight for justice and a better world for the people in this city to live in. But how?

"Say again?" he asked, eyebrows knitted together in growing anger and worry.

Bruce glared at him. "You heard me well enough," he grumbled. "I'm thinking it's time for Batman to retire. All those people died because of me, Gordon!"

Jim looked up in surprise at the name with which Batman usually addressed him. So who was he talking to now – Bruce or Batman? This two (or was it three?) personae thing certainly didn't help. How much of what Jim saw was Bruce Wayne, how much of Batman was real, and which parts of his other characters were just an act?

He sighed, feeling suddenly very tired. He hadn't asked for any of this – and yet, here he was, still trying to talk some sense into the man. Obviously, his previous speech hadn't been good enough. I really suck at pep talks, he thought. And then he exploded.

"They did not die because of you!" Jim yelled. Bruce broke from his reverie and had the decency to look slightly surprised. "They died because a madman was running free in this town, killing and burning wherever it pleased him. He used you, he used all of us, to create chaos and despair in this city!" Bruce looked as if he wanted to say something but Jim held up a hand to stop him. "The Joker's only goal was to satisfy his sick need for murder and to wreak havoc wherever he went. You saw him! He isn't like any other human being we've encountered before. He's nuts! That's why he's in Arkham right now, sedated and under guard so he can't hurt any more people."

Bruce tried to interrupt him but again, Jim wouldn't let him. "He tried to break you, but he couldn't because you're stronger than he is. You're a much better man, Bruce!" The younger man flinched. "The Joker wanted you to break your one rule, but you didn't. You almost died because you couldn't murder him. I was there, I saw it. I saved your life, goddammit! And now you want to throw everything we've been fighting for away? I don't think so."

Jim stared at Bruce, his own eyes narrowed. "If you're trying to tell me that you don't believe in anything we've done these past few days, I simply refuse to believe you. I know this week must have been one of the hardest of your entire life, and I'm truly sorry about Rachel. I wasn't able to save her." Jim swallowed hard, but this time Bruce didn't try to say anything, his eyes burning at the Commissioner. Jim prepared for his final argument – and the possibility of a blow coming his way.

"If you give up now, the Joker will win, and Rachel will have died for nothing."

And with that, Jim turned away. Bruce didn't try to stop him; he merely stared into space. But Jim knew the younger man had heard every word he'd said; his tense figure spoke volumes, and Jim didn't need to look at him to know the painful path Bruce's memory traveled right now.

Suddenly, Bruce spoke up behind him. "He didn't take the best of us."

Jim looked back at him in surprise and asked, "What do you mean?"

"He didn't take the best of us," Bruce repeated. "The night Dent died, you said the Joker took the best of us and tore him down. But you were wrong. You're the best of us, Gordon. Dent became the Joker's puppet and tried to finish his sick game for him after Rachel's death. I wasn't strong enough either. I couldn't stop the Joker. But you, you were there. You arrested him and rescued me. You never gave up!"

Jim looked at him sternly and replied, "And you wanna know why?" He didn't give Bruce time to think about it but answered the question for him, "Because I knew I wasn't alone. Because I knew there was a friend in the shadows, watching over me and my family. Don't tell me you weren't there when Stephens and Ramirez went to my house to tell my wife that I was dead?"

Bruce's silence only served to confirm Jim's suspicions. He continued, "I couldn't have done all this on my own, you know. You helped me more times than I can count and probably more times than I'll ever know. You continued after Ducard burned down your home. You didn't back down when Reese threatened to reveal your identity. Instead, you saved his life!" Bruce watched the Commissioner warily. Jim shrugged, saying, "I never really believed you were trying to catch the light anyway." Jim didn't back down when Bruce smirked. He tried harder to bring his message home.

"You gave everything for this city but no one ever noticed. It was you who fought the Joker. I just came along and picked him up when he was already down. You fought Dent. You even let him shoot you in order to save me and my family! You let everyone believe Batman was a cold-blooded killer to maintain Dent's reputation – without any concerns about your own. And just for the record: I'm still not convinced that this was one of the brightest ideas you ever had…especially after tonight. So spare me the you're-the-best-of-us crap and come to your senses. Gotham needs you."

An unspoken I need you hung in the air, and Jim was sure Bruce felt it, too. Damn, when had he become so dependent on this man? But then, it wasn't such a bad feeling for Jim. He trusted Batman. Bruce, he reminded himself. This would definitely need some getting used to.

"So?" Jim asked and looked at Bruce expectantly. "What do you say?"

The younger man's gaze seemed to say don't push your luck but then, finally, he smiled. It was a small smile, but a genuine one.

"I say," Bruce replied carefully, "that I'm glad I'm not your son. I don't think I ever want to hear you shout at me again."

Jim must have looked like an idiot because Bruce started laughing so hard his entire body shook. He wasn't mad, was he?

His thought must have been etched on his face because Bruce shook his head in amusement and answered, "No, I'm not mad. It's just funny that no one has ever dared to yell at me before. Or maybe Alfred was just too sensitive to try. He hates loud noises."

Then Bruce grew serious again, and his hazel eyes shone with honest gratitude. "Thank you, Jim. You're right. The Joker mustn't win. Gotham needs Batman. And I think I still need Batman, too. I tried to convince myself that I didn't, but I was wrong. I still have work to do here."

They shared an understanding smile, and Jim allowed himself to relax for the very first time that night. Doubt and despair might haunt Bruce again some day but not as bad as this time, he hoped. The younger man had learned his lesson. And maybe Jim wasn't so bad at pep talks after all.

He took the opportunity and said what he'd wanted to tell Batman for a very long time now.

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me." It was almost Batman's growl. Almost.

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't. I told you many years ago."

"I do, too. You saved my life, the lives of my wife and children. Hell, you saved this whole city more than once! I have to say thank you because I know you don't expect me to," Jim explained.

Bruce just glared at him. "This makes no sense."

Jim shrugged. "Yes, it does. Think about it."

This Batman did, and after a while he surprisingly nodded his agreement.

"You're welcome," he mumbled.

It was more than Jim would have ever hoped for. "Have you ever lost an argument before?" he couldn't refrain from asking mischievously.

"Constantly," Bruce replied, and Jim shot his new friend an incredulous look.

"You haven't seen Alfred lecturing me. Once he gets started, you can only hope to outrun him – or endure." Bruce grinned from ear to ear..

"I heard that."

Jim jumped and turned around just in time to see the elevator vanish into the ceiling. Alfred stood a few feet away from them, carrying a large bag of groceries.

"Where did you come from?" Jim managed to ask. "How long have you been standing there?"

The butler shrugged and nodded into his employer's direction.

"Ask him. He noticed me the moment I stepped onto the elevator."

Of course he did.

The butler's eyes shone with relief. "And if I may say so, it's good to have you back, Master Wayne."

These words had an incredible effect on Batman: A red flush crept from his neck onto his face, and the sheepish look the young man gave his mentor would have been funny if the whole affair hadn't been deadly serious just a short time ago. Jim felt like an intruder, but he couldn't turn away while master and servant held one another's gaze.

Then the unbelievable happened: Bruce was the first to look away.

Interesting, Jim thought. These two have a lot to talk about when they get home tonight. He was so deep in thought that he almost missed Bruce's whispered thank you.

Alfred simply nodded and made a slight bow. He raised the bag of groceries and smiled. "I hope you're hungry, sirs."

And indeed they were.