Bit of a shorter chapter, full of technical jargon that makes no sense. But Bane will be appearing more in the next few chapters, so get ready. Things are about to get interesting. I hope you enjoy, reviews are loved, and I don't own Batman/Dark Knight.
John wasn't surprised when Father Riley told him to leave and give him time to think over everything John had said. He knew he sounded crazy, and who wanted a crazy person under their roof when the whole city was already crashing around their ears? The problem was he didn't have much of anywhere to go.
Father Riley at least let him change out of his uniform so he wouldn't get dragged away by the masses. He figured he couldn't go back to his flat, because if Talia was looking for him, he didn't doubt that'd be the first place she would look. He knew where Gordon and Foley each were, and had scoped out the areas of Gotham they lived in weeks ago, purely out of habit. That begged the question, of course, of whether or not the mobs snatching cops and rich people out into the streets knew where Gordon and Foley lived.
He was no stranger to sneaking around Gotham and avoiding the riots and mobs. Sure, he wasn't as used to all the extreme violence, but it almost made it easier to sneak away without anyone noticing. Guilt twisted in his gut when he walked past people being beaten down, but he clamped down on the anger. Locked it away to use as fuel for when he would be able to do something other than get overwhelmed by the masses.
He didn't knock on the front door when he reached the townhouse Gordon called home. Instead, John pick locked the back door and slipped inside, relocking the door behind him. The door led into a darkened kitchen, the only light being from the streetlight streaming through the blinds and into the living room. He crept through the kitchen and into the next room, freezing when the cool metal of a gun pressed into his temple.
"Gordon. It's me," he said. "Really gonna shoot a guy in a sling?" He waved his bad arm as best he could.
The gun dropped and John turned to look at Gordon's shadowed form. "Sorry John. Couldn't take my chances."
"Understandable. What's the situation?"
"Let's get somewhere that I can turn on the lights, yeah?"
Gordon turned and led him down a flight of stairs and through a door. Once the door was shut, Gordon flicked on an overhead light, revealing that they were in a large pantry. Gordon was still in his uniform, but didn't appear injured in any way.
"I've got a generator running on a timer. We already lost power here. Don't need light at night so much. Don't want to draw too much attention to us after all," Gordon said.
"Do we have a plan?" John asked.
"Foley and I agreed to meet at one of the police warehouses tomorrow night. We were able to get in touch with about fifty officers, but that's it," Gordon said. He frowned, eyes flicking up and down John's form. "I'm not quite sure you should join us, son. You need to focus on recovering first."
"That's stupid. I know what we're up against, I should be there," John said.
"You're not a senior officer. There would be a lot of questions about where you got your information and where your loyalty lies. Your presence would divide us, John. And we can't afford that," Gordon said firmly.
John glared, unable to stop himself. "Are you questioning where my loyalties lie, Gordon?"
"Of course not. I'm the last person that would think that," Gordon said. "But I'm not most people on the force. They won't want to hear what a hothead greenhorn has to say."
John knew Gordon was right, but it didn't make the truth any easier to swallow. "Okay, so I stay behind. I already told you what you'll need to know. Maybe don't mention they're my old co-workers."
Gordon gave a strained smile in response. "Perhaps not the best way to build your credibility, no."
"So do you know what Bane did at the stadium or...?" John asked, leaning back against the door.
"He turned a nuclear reactor into a nuclear bomb. Some citizen is the triggerman. That's all we got," Gordon said with a shrug. "A lot of the witnesses Foley and I could flag down here hysterical."
"Any contact from the Federal government?" John asked.
"No internet. All the signals are blocked or cut," Gordon said. His arms folded over his chest. "Speaking of...would your...past experience be able to help us with that?"
John shrugged. "Not sure. I'd need some supplies and a location we could leave pretty quickly. I'll probably be able to connect for about two minutes before I get traced, so it'd be best if I knew exactly what you want me to do once we get online."
"We'll scope out some areas tomorrow. We'll want to get a message to the federal government, and we can work out what we want it to say tonight."
"Keep it short. I'm going to have to encrypt the hell out of it. I'll send it to a contact I have that can decode it," John said. "I'd rather the rest of the government not try and crack my codes if I can avoid it. Is that acceptable?"
"And your past co-workers?" Gordon asked. "They won't know how to crack it when you send it out?"
"No. It's a constantly changing encryption. No one can crack it except my contact," John said.
Gordon raised his eyebrows. "Must be a pretty smart contact."
"Something like that."
-.-
John's 'contact' was not so much a person, but a computer program he had found, and subsequently left, in their computer systems with years ago. It was dormant and undetectable, until he accessed it again. Over time, he had learned that it took about seven minutes for the government to realize they were being hacked, and another four to take the program down. In the past, he had used it to steal files for a job, or to destroy one identity and swap it with a new if he didn't have time to do so in a safer way. So far, they had yet to totally erase the program, possibly because its actual origin was within their anti-virus programs.
He couldn't claim the credit for developing it, though he had added a few personal touches. There was a mastermind hacker from France that the CIA had gotten their hands on years ago, and they had enlisted the help of some of the better, but more criminal, dream workers like Arthur. He had acted as the Extractor and the Point Man, so when it came to reporting the information back to his employer, he left out some of the details, keeping the knowledge of the hacker's program to himself for further use.
Sending a message to the government was new though. He could do it, yes, but he wasn't sure if they would take the message seriously. He could flood everyone's inboxes with it if need be, but that probably wouldn't help the credibility. Hopefully, Gordon would have some identifying code the government wouldn't ignore.
The next morning, there was a small glass of water and pain pills waiting beside his bed table. John left the pills. If he was going to spend the day stealing supplies while dodging mobs, he'd rather his mind be clear. There was also the small feat of breaking back into his apartment for his laptop and equipment, barring that it hadn't already been raided.
The showers still worked, so John allowed himself a five-minute cold shower before pulling on yesterday's clothes and heading out. The hysteria from the day before had mostly died down, at least temporarily. It felt too much like the calm before the storm. Traversing through Gotham's back alleys wasn't hard, but it still took a long time for him to reach the district his apartment was in. Oddly enough, his injury didn't attract unwanted attention of those he had to pass by, and he attributed that to how no one sane would walk around like he was. His potential craziness was probably keeping the more cowardly muggers away.
When he reached his apartment, he headed straight through the front door. The electronic locks were all turned off so he headed straight up. The stairwell was mostly clean, and there was no sign that the angry mobs having made their way through. When he got to his door, he tested the handle. It was unlocked.
John eased his gun out of his jacket pocket, then kicked the door open and training it on the only other figure in the room. Selina sat on the couch, legs folded beneath her with her hands in her lap. She crooked an eyebrow up.
"You and I both know you won't fire that gun, and you're in no shape to actually fight me," Selina said. "So put the toy away and come sit."
"This room is bugged, isn't it?" John didn't lower the gun, but he did reach back with his foot to close the door.
"Probably, but here you are anyways," she said, a smirk twisting her lips up.
"Point taken. Why are you here?" he asked. "Did Talia send you to finish me off? Or drag me back?"
"Actually, no. They mostly tossed me out. I outlived my usefulness," she said.
"Oh, so you came to me to what? Beg for scraps?" John gave a short, bitter laugh. "How desperate of you."
"If you'd shut up, you'll see I'm trying to apologize," she cut in, rising to her feet. She almost stepped towards him until she heard the click of John readying the gun. "Jesus Arthur-"
"John. I got rid of Arthur. You were there. Surely you remember," he said, unable to keep the venom out of his voice. "You didn't do anything. Why the hell do you think I would forgive you?"
Selina shook her head, disbelief apparent in her expression. "I didn't know she was going to do that. I...I never would've let you go down if I knew."
"Yeah right," John said.
Selina's sharp gaze met his, harsh. "I am a lot of things. I will kill for what I need. I will not let anyone get tortured for some stupid petty reason. Especially when I'm getting nothing out of it."
"Nice to know you care."
"I can't afford to care, but I'm trying anyways. We're all going to die in a few months. Guess I should try and get some redemption before hand, right?"
John bit back his retort, instead lowering his gun. "What do you mean we're all going to die?"
"It's a nuclear bomb, you idiot. It's been destabilized. In a few months it'll be so unstable it'll blow up, whether or not the triggerman sets it off before hand," she said with an eye roll.
"Oh. Well I suppose that changes things," John said. He clicked the safety on and shoved it back into his jacket pocket. "So since we've established that I'm not going to kill you, how about you tell me what else you know?"
He moved towards the couch, feigning a carelessness he didn't feel. In all honesty, every part of him screamed to run the other way, could still feel her weight on him when she had pinned him to the ground in the sewers. He pushed his thoughts away as he sat down, propping his feet up on the table.
Selina stood where she was for a moment, then joined him. "I am sorry. You didn't deserve what happened to you."
"We're not talking about that," John said. "Tell me what else you know."
"Not much. They were holding things over my head, I told you that," she said. Her arms folded across her chest, and when he glanced over at her, she was staring at the wall. "I also know they're planning on breaking prisoners out of Blackgate prison today."
John glanced over at her. "When?"
"Probably within the next ten minutes," she said. "They were planning on bringing the power back so people would watch it all go down. Apparently, Bane's giving another speech."
"Who's filming it?" John asked. He got to his feet and moved to his bedroom to find his laptop, grateful to see it untouched. Selina followed after him, watching from the doorway as he found his Ethernet cord and unplugged it. He had another internet connecter in the living room wall. He turned back to her once he had collected everything.
"You could, oh I don't know, be a bit more helpful," he said.
"I apologized. I don't know what else you want from me," she said, leaning back. "Besides, maybe I like what Bane and Talia are doing."
He lifted an eyebrow, shoving past her to reach the living room. He hit the on button of his television on the way to the couch so when they did bring the power back it would click on. "I don't believe you for a second, by the way."
John set the laptop down and went to plug his Ethernet cord into the wall, before dragging it back to plug into his laptop. Most people thought it was old school of him to keep using an Ethernet cord, but it was more secure and faster for his needs.
Selina perched herself on the edge of his coffee table once he was settled into the couch. "Now, Arthur-"
"John," he corrected with a short glare, stabbing the on button of his laptop.
"Whatever." She gave a short eye roll. "The point is, just because I hate my employers doesn't mean I disagree with their goal."
"So you like the idea of criminals all over?"
She shrugged. "I can handle myself. Can't say I'm overly concerned."
"And what about the innocent ones that can't handle it?" he asked.
"Well aren't they lucky to have you around?"
John shook his head slowly. "You have no idea how badly I want to kick you out."
"Lucky for me, you're crippled and won't be able to do so," Selina said.
John clenched his jaw tighter and he kicked out at the coffee table as his login screen loaded up. The table rocked a bit, but Selina didn't budge, instead viewing him with a look he would normally reserve for a petulant child. It was frustrating, being angry with no outlet, without the physical capability to remove the annoyance.
The television flickered on at the same moment his Internet signal clicked on. Apparently they didn't care overly much about only bringing certain parts of the power back. He logged into the program that normally took him to the government databases and began to code in a short cut. The next time the power kicked on, he'd be prepared for a quick link up and message. If he kept the laptop tethered to the database, there was a possibility he could send the message regardless of the Internet sources. He knew Bane would be able to trace his signal if it was wireless; Arthur had always gone wireless before. With the cord, hopefully he'd buy himself more time, and if they were lucky, they would never guess which IP address was his.
"John, I'm sure whatever you're doing is of vast importance, but you might want to see this," Selina said.
John's fingers continued to click along the keys as he turned his gaze up. He stopped though, as he registered what was showing on the screen before him. He knew Blackgate Prison well enough. Knew it was full of criminals destined to fulfill their sentence without parole. It made his skin crawl to see what used to be Eames standing a top a type of armored tank he had never seen before, dream or no. John's gaze flicked to Selina, who was staring at the screen.
"How are they filming this?" he asked.
"Not that hard to make the media do what you want, they're just used to getting money, not death threats," she said. "Now pay attention."
John's attention turned back to the television and he watched as Bane began to talk, and tried not to let his memories and thoughts the better of him.
"For the past eight years, Gotham's citizens have listened to the same speech from their Commissioner about how the Dent Act has made their streets safer. The Dent Act was the spawn of the pure and noble Harvey Dent, a man who could do no wrong." Bane reached into the folds of his jacket, producing a folded piece of paper. "I have here the speech your dear Commissioner almost read each year-"
"How did he get that?" John asked.
"I stole it from him the night I stole Bruce Wayne's fingerprints," Selina said. "Wasn't sure what they wanted it for. Perhaps you should listen."
Bane was reading the speech, had been reading the speech while John was distracted, so he was only able to hear the tail end of Gordon's words. "The Batman didn't murder Harvey Dent, he saved my boy then took the blame for Harvey's appalling crimes so that I could, to my shame, build a lie around this fallen idol. I praised the mad man who tried to murder my own child but I can no longer live with my lie. It is time to trust the people of Gotham with the truth and it is time for me to resign."
John wasn't an idiot. He knew that no one was squeaky clean, cops more than other people; it was the nature of the job after all. But listening to the truth of Gordon's character, and hearing the way he let Batman take the fall for Harvey's mistake to give the appearance that his own hands were clean...it made him feel sick. He wasn't sure what happened after Bane finished the speech, and he didn't care. He just turned the television off and shoved his anger away.
"What, no reaction?" Selina asked, turning to face him. "Your police hero is a fake!"
"And? I still have to take care of this," John said, fingers typing away. "Preferably before they cut the power, but it isn't necessary." Better to lie. It wasn't like he could depend on Selina. If she didn't betray him again, he'd be more surprised than if she did.
"But all your hopes of good cops was destroyed," she said.
He glanced up at her. "I have no idea what I possibly could have done to make you think I had such a naïve outlook on life. I'm insulted."
She shrugged and got to her feet. "So what will you do now?"
John finished coding the shortcut, the information of the truth of the bomb stored so he'd be able to send it faster when the time came. "I don't know. Do what I can to stay alive and help people." He glanced up as he shut his laptop down. "You?"
"Stay alive and help myself," she said with a small grin.
"I saw that coming," John said. He got to his feet and headed back to his room. Unsurprisingly, Selina followed after him and hovered in the doorway once more.
It was difficult to access his semi-auto under the floorboard with one hand, but after that, collecting his clothing and stuffing them in his backpack was easy. He disassembled the gun, stowing the parts away throughout the bag before carrying it to the living room and tucking away his laptop and cords.
"You going to follow me back?" he asked, heading for the door.
"Maybe," she said.
When he looked back at her, she was standing behind the couch. Something about the way she looked at him reminded him Ariadne when she had first started out dream sharing. Starting off strong, only to have one thing throw her off and suddenly her eyes were begging for answers. Back then, he had kissed her, followed it up with a cheesy line. She had relaxed a bit at his antics. He didn't think the same tactic would work with Selina.
"Are you going to let Talia know my whereabouts?" he asked.
"No. What she did was wrong, and I'm not going to play a part in letting it happen again."
"Might have been the first thing you've said that I actually believe," John said.
"I said I was sorry!"
John slammed the door behind him. She was going to have to try a lot harder than that.
-.-
Later that night found Gordon and John sitting on the floor of the bathroom, which was lit by candles to conserve the gas in the generator.
"That's the message we're going with then?" John asked.
Gordon gave a short nod. "Quick and to the point. What's the other information you wanted to add?"
A frustrated sigh blew past John's lips. "Selina Kyle was waiting for me in my apartment. She's the one that led me down to the sewers in the first place." John's head thumped against the wall. "She told me some things, though whether or not their reliable is up for debate. We might want to include her information."
"Let's hear it," he said.
"In five months it will be too unstable. That bomb is going off no matter what."
Gordon's expression was unreadable across the flicker of the flames. "We might as well include it. Better safe than sorry."
"I don't know what we can do to stop it from going off," John said.
"This is probably the last thing you want to hear right now, but maybe we should utilize your other skills," Gordon suggested.
John's heart attempted to stop for a moment as he glared at the other. "Even if I wanted to, I don't have the tools. I left them with an old friend."
"Can you get them sent in?"
"Maybe," John said. "But it's a really shit idea. That's the least of our concerns. We should be worrying about the now. Speaking of, I heard your speech today."
When he looked up, Gordon's gaze was rooted to the ground. "That wasn't written by me."
"Bullshit. Selina stole it from you," John said.
"You're taking the thief's word over my own?" Gordon asked, incredulous.
"She wasn't the one staring at the ground when she answered," John said. "So stop lying."
"Politics is the short answer," he said after a moment. "We needed the policy passed, so I covered for him. I thought it was the right thing to do."
"This is why I hate law enforcement," John said. "Incompetent. Easily swayed by politics and emotions."
"And you aren't?" Gordon's tone was harsh as he met John's glare over the flame.
"I learned not to be. You only end up making things worse," John said. He shut his laptop.
"I made things better! I sacrificed for the people!"
"You? You look fine to me. The man who made the real sacrifice is nowhere to be found. You let yourself come out as a hero. So tell me, please, what possible sacrifice did you make?" The words were angry, and it made John uncomfortable. He knew anger didn't make him look anymore legitimate, but it was getting harder and harder to care.
"You weren't there so don't you dare try to lecture me," Gordon said.
John shook his head. "Whatever. I'm mad but we have work to do."
"I didn't judge you for your past, son, so give me the same chance."
After a moment, John nodded. "Fine."
-.-
After the military set up the barricade, the reality of their situation sunk in. They weren't going anywhere any time soon. John still hadn't returned to the orphanage. He knew he wasn't welcome, and he still wasn't sure if he was being followed or not. The last thing he wanted to do was bring his enemies down the kids' heads.
That didn't stop him from dropping off food and extra gas he was able to get his hands on at their doorstep.
Five days in after the barricade had been set up, Gordon still wasn't allowing him to meet with the others. He wasn't sure if it was because Gordon didn't trust him or the rest of the force didn't. During those five days, the electricity came back twice, long enough for John to send Gordon's message to the government, and one to Dom. He sent them from an abandoned apartment duplex, so that even if it were traced, he would be long gone.
John had thought long and hard about dragging Dom into the mess. The man had finally got what John had been struggling for the last few months, but at the same time, Talia had been Dom's wife. He owed it to the man to give him true closure if he wanted it. The message to Dom was simple and to the point.
Mal's alive. In Gotham. Send help.
-.-
"So do we have a plan?" John asked.
He and Gordon were sharing a meal of microwaved soup in the bathroom, not willing to risk the main lights. Over the last few days, John had observed the looters' method of marking houses that had been raided, and had mimicked the red X on Gordon's door. Sure, it kept the looters away, but only if it looked abandoned, so once night fell, they were secluded to rooms without windows.
"Possibly. Rumor has it that the military has found a way to sneak some men in, but it will be a long while before they can confirm it," Gordon said. "We were able to get a message through when the power came on last night."
John's jaw tightened. "Did you use a secure line?"
Gordon shook his head. "No time. We used what we had."
"You're going to want to move your hide out then. Bane's men were tracking it. They probably were waiting for you guys to try and send something," John said.
"And you know this how?" Gordon sounded like he was losing his patience but John couldn't bring himself to care. They couldn't afford such casual mistakes.
"Because Eames and I used a similar tactic to track some of our marks. My connection is secure and encrypted, and I send my messages from a random area and immediately ditch it, and I don't keep a pattern to my locations. Bane can crack the messages I've sent eventually, but it would take him months," John said. He set his empty bowl down on the floor. "So we stick with my way. Unless you don't trust me."
"Of course I trust you," Gordon said, scoffing.
"Really? Because I don't think you do. Why won't you let me work with you guys? Do you think I'm going to bail and spill everything to Talia and Bane?"
"Dammit, John, you're injured! We can't afford to have one of our most valuable members of the team being seen with us!" Gordon shouted.
The man's anger surprised him, almost as much as his actual words. "You don't have to worry about this. I've been through worse, I can handle myself."
"Like you handled yourself down in the sewers?"
"I did better than any of your men could've. They didn't learn a damn thing from me about the force, but that wasn't really there goal. Talia only cared about making me hurt," John said. "Just...let me help. If I get caught, I'd die before I said a word."
"And if they tried to...do that dream type work on you?" Gordon asked.
"On the off chance that they tried, I'd be able to fight them off. But honestly, they'll be too busy running everything else to bother dragging any of down into a dreamscape," John said.
"I suppose...we can bring you on board. You saying we should move our base of operations, then?"
"Definitely. I'd expect the place to be raided with in the next few days. Have you established contact with the cops trapped underground?" John asked.
"Not yet. Bane's men, and the citizens, they're all sending rations down to them though," Gordon said, a bit surprised. "I honestly wasn't expecting that. I figured they would let them stay down there to rot."
"They aren't here to kill us," John said. "They're trying to teach the people of Gotham, people everywhere really, a lesson. I can probably find a way to get in touch with Ross though. I'll try some things over the next few days, if you insist on not having me around with the other cops."
"John, I already said you can start showing up," Gordon said. "But it would be a good idea to establish contact with the ones trapped underground. We'll get a team on it, to do some of the legwork so you aren't out running around so much."
"Running around is all I've been doing anyways," John said.
Gordon rolled his eyes, a soft smile on his lips. "Yes, and what good has that done in making sure you heal up alright?"
John shook his head, a smile of his own twitching at his lips. "You make a good point. I'll start drafting up some ideas to get in contact with the others. We'll need to start tracking the movements of Bane's men, and set up a courier system as well."
Gordon's eyebrows lifted. "You been thinking about this a lot?"
"I've been in situations like this," John said with a shrug. "Down in the dreams. Same logic applies really. They're going to settle in their own base, we should do the same."
"I wish you hadn't gone and gotten yourself hurt, John. You've got some good insight," Gordon said. "Try and rest up."
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll try."