The journey to the docks had been a dreadful one. Jim had no visual in the car, but they had set up the audio feed from the events on the boat. When the first shot was fired his heart dropped into his stomach. Then there was an agonizing wait for the people watching the video feed at Wayne Manor to relay what had actually happened. The fact Dick had choked out the masked man before the shot did little to appease him. Especially as it seemed the camera had been dropped before the gun went off and it was unclear who the casualty was, but it seemed someone had been shot. On the audio there had been yelling and the whisper of voices behind static. Then the sound of another gunshot.
Jim was glad he wasn't driving, because he suspected he would have broken the land speed record in an effort to reach them.
Finally he got the call that one of the Bats was there, and that the situation was in hand – and the bad guys were the only fatalities. The relief made him lightheaded.
By the time they arrived, Jim felt he had aged by five years. Montoya and her unit were already processing the surviving gang members and there were cops scouring the surrounding area for any who had fled – they were going to get every single one of those bastards. The cops were angry, Dick was one of their own, even if he was from the 'Haven.
Jim listened to the reports with half an ear, He couldn't see Dick, and he felt he had to actually lay eyes on him to be certain he was safe.
Finally Montoya took pity on him and laid a warm hand on his shoulder. "Grayson and the hostages are round the back waiting on the ambulance. I've got things here, go check on them."
Jim nodded gratefully and headed in the direction she had indicated. The ambulance had arrived, and the EMT's were attempting to get the boys into the back of it. It seemed they were having a bit of trouble untangling them from one another. Although they both appeared unconscious Dick and the hostage were still clinging to one another, and behind them, another much younger boy had his fingers clenched in the first man's shirt. His eyes were open, but wide and shocked. A kind, but frustrated looking EMT was gently attempting to coax him into letting go, she was not having much success.
"Just load them up together, quicker they get to hospital, the better," Jim told her. Dick's face was swollen and he looked pale and worn, but at the sound of Jim's voice he stirred.
"Commissioner Gordon?" he asked, groggy and pained.
"I'm here Dick, these folks want to get you and your friend to hospital as quick as possible, you good with that?"
Dick didn't answer, but his death grip on his friend lessened slightly and the EMT was able to pull him free and get him onto a stretcher. Jim wished he could go with them, but he was much more useful here. He had to pull himself together, it was hard, being so personally connected to the victim of such a dreadful crime – but the best he could do for them now was to make an airtight case against the criminal gang responsible.
But first, he needed to call Bruce.
"Well?" Bruce demanded as he picked up.
"Dick and the hostage are alive and on the way to Gotham memorial – they're both seriously injured, but I'm hopeful they will make a full recovery."
"Keep me informed of developments," Bruce said, and hung up.
Jim snorted. All that brusque tetchiness was just covering up Bruce's fear and relief. Having known the man for a very long time, he understood that despite appearances Bruce was a very emotional person; he felt deeply and fiercely – it was just expressing those feelings he had trouble with. Something that had at times impacted badly on his family, especially Dick whose own emotions often ran high. Jim hoped that Bruce would be there for him through his recovery, he suspected he was going to need all the support he could get.
"Commissioner!" Montoya called, breaking him out of his thoughts. "We have an ID on the ringleader; Peter Anderson, formerly of Bludhaven police."
"Bastard," Jim said, with feeling. He had suspected some of their own were involved, but to have it confirmed was infuriating.
"Quite so, Sir. He is also confirmed to be one of the two fatalities. Evidence from the scene suggests that the young guy taken to hospital with Grayson was the shooter, but we will have to wait on their statements and ballistics for confirmation."
"And the second fatality?"
"We are thinking the hostage might have been the shooter on that one, as he was still in possession of the gun. It was definitely self-defense, and a damn good shot."
"Who was first on the scene?"
"I was sir, but Black Bat had already done most of the hard work for us. She stayed to give a brief account of what took place and her findings. Then she took off."
Jim nodded, technically they were supposed to at least pretend to arrest vigilantes, but really, what was the point? Not to mention the fact that on this, and in indeed most occasions he was enormously grateful to them, the Bat sanctioned ones anyway.
When Jim finally finished at the crime scene, he made his way to the hospital to check in on Dick. The nurse was initially reluctant to direct him to the private room Dick was currently occupying – Bruce's orders no doubt. But eventually she relented, and anxiously led Jim to the correct ward. Dick was resting quietly with Bruce and Alfred by his side. Jim didn't want to disturb them, but he felt he must.
"Bruce?" he asked quietly, stepping into the room.
Bruce tore his gaze away from his son's battered face and turned to him, his expression carefully blank.
"How's he doing?" Jim asked, determined to ignore the stony silence. Bruce was probably still feeling raw from the stress, fear, and the overload of emotion.
"He's sedated. His wounds have been cleaned, there was very little internal damage, but the burns were quite extensive."
Jim nodded, he was not looking forward to reading over the detailed reports of the injuries Dick had received. "Has he said anything?" he asked, keeping his voice professional. Bruce would probably appreciate keeping things about the investigation and not about the personal cost of what had happened.
"Only that you should offer the boy, Jan, a deal in exchange for his testimony. And that someone should look into a case involving the boy's brother, Marek Bednarczyk who was arrested in Bludhaven last December."
"I'll look into it."
"I've already contacted the DA to set things in motion. And if the boy does want to testify against the other perps, you might want to offer him and his family protection. Apparently one of the other men involved is a relative, which might cause p roblems if you don't offer some assurances against reprisals."
"Doing my job for me again, Bruce?"
Bruce gave him the slightest upward twitch of his lip "I wouldn't dream of it, Jim."
"I will make sure he's looked after, I'm going to interview him as soon as an appropriate adult arrives and he is given the all clear from the doctor."
"I was not aware he had sustained any injuries."
"Shock, I'm told. Unsurprising given the past twenty four hours, I certainly would not have been able to cope had I been a witness at that age." Jim paused and rubbed a hand over his mustache, it needed a trim, and he needed a wash, a shave and at least five hours sleep. "How about the other boy, the hostage? How's he holding up?"
"He's in surgery. The Doctor assures me he will make a full recovery, but as well as the broken bones, there were some internal injuries."
"Do we have a name for him?" Jim asked, cautiously.
Bruce looked pensive for a moment, and then gave the tiniest shrug of a shoulder. "Jay."
"I'll have to interview him when he is able, but I will be as delicate as possible."
Bruce gave him a rueful smile, "Do what you have to. And Jim?"
"Yeah?"
"Go get some sleep, things are steady for the moment."
Jim yawned and shook his head, "take your own advice, Bruce. Get some rest."
Bruce grunted in answer, and Jim took that as his cue to take his leave. A few hours sleep would probably be for the best, after all.
Jim was back at the hospital six hours later, his eyes still gritty and his head still a little heavy – but his mind was clearer. The relief he had felt earlier was still there, but now it was tempered by the desire to make sure everyone responsible when down for this. He was going to follow the corruption as high up the ladder as it went.
He checked in on Dick first, Bruce and Pennyworth were gone, but they had been replaced by two sleeping teenagers, slumped together on the uncomfortable looking chairs. Stephanie's blond hair was stuck to Tim's face in places, caught on the slight stubble on his cheeks. The fact the kid was obviously in need of a shave was somehow shocking, when did Tim grow from a boy into a young man? They both still looked so terribly young.
Dick was also sleeping, his bruised face relaxed and free of pain, Jim decided not to wake him, and instead opted to interview the other two survivors first.
'Jay' was also asleep, but unlike Dick he didn't seem to be resting peacefully, his brows creased in apparent pain or distress.
Jim was somehow unsurprised to see Cassandra sitting by his bedside, she glanced at him as he entered and offered him a small smile. "I felt he shouldn't wake alone," she said.
Jim nodded. "Having people around can help a great deal. Does he have any family that you know of? Anyone I can call for him?"
She pondered, but shook her head. "I will stay until he wakes again. He will want an update on Dick's condition."
"I'm glad he has some friends around him," Jim offered – he desperately wanted to ask about the connection between Jay and Dick, but he also suspected that might be treading into the kind of territory that should be avoided in order to maintain a level of plausible deniability, so he resisted.
Unlike the others, Jan was awake and ready to be discharged by the doctors, although he was not under arrest yet, it had seemed prudent to post a guard outside his door. The woman nodded to him as he approached. "We finally tracked down his family, his mother is with him now," she said.
"Thank you officer Azeez."
"Just to warn you, Sir, they haven't been very forthcoming and have requested a lawyer."
"I'm sure they have." He really hoped this interview went smoothly, but he was more than prepared to play hardball if he had to.
Jan still looked pale and shocky, and far younger than his sixteen years. His mother sat beside him, holding his hand and scowling fiercely at her son, at Jim and the world in general.
"Are you the officer in charge of this operation?" she asked without preamble.
"I'm police commissioner James Gordon, and I took over the case when Mr. Grayson was kidnaped."
"Is he going to be okay?" Jan asked quietly.
"Physically he is expected to make a full recovery. But that sort of traumatic event tends to leave deep scars."
Jan shuddered. "And Jason? He tried really hard to protect me, even though it was my fault he was there-"
"Jan!" his mother snapped, "say nothing until the lawyer gets here!"
She followed that statement with a stream of rapid words in another language and Jan looked suitably chastised. Despite the harsh sound of her words, Jim noticed she was still holding Jan's hand gently, and he figured, like Bruce, she was channeling her fear for her son into anger.
"Ms. Bednarczyk, I want to see the men responsible for this in jail. Officer Grayson has made it clear that he believes Jan was unaware of the true nature of what was going to happen, and that he was perhaps unduly influenced by other, older people in the group. Is that right?"
Jan glanced at him from under his lashes and shrugged. Jim got the impression it was more complicated than that.
"The DA is on her way, and it is possible, in light of your age and the fact the victim is advocating for you, that we may be able to make a deal. But you will need to give evidence against the other perpetrators."
"I shot someone," Jan blurted suddenly.
"Jan!" his mother gave him a little shake. She looked terrified.
"As I understand it," Jim said carefully, "if you had not shot him, Anderson would have killed you, and then probably Dick and Jason too."
Jan nodded shakily, and Jim had to resist giving him a reassuring smile – he didn't know just how involved the boy was, and if he did have a bigger role than it first appeared, he was going to see justice done no matter what Dick thought. He hoped it wouldn't come to that though.
"I'm going to have to take you in to custody, and process you properly, and then when the DA arrives at the station we can go over what's going to happen next. Okay?"
The kid started to cry, still apparently overwhelmed. His mom patted his hand and gave Jim a nod. Jim really hated making kids cry, even if sometimes they deserved it.
Feeling vaguely depressed, Jim made his way back to Dick's private suite of a hospital room – the benefit of being Bruce Wayne's son. His mood lifted slightly when he saw that Dick was both awake and talking, and that Barbara was with him. Although Jim knew their relationship was no longer romantic in nature, they still seemed to be as close friends as they had been in their teens – and her presence always seemed to cheer Dick up. (And Jim couldn't blame him for that, his daughter was the light of his life too.)
Opposite Barbara was the small, angry form of Damian Wayne, scowling at Dick like he wanted to set his hair on fire with nothing but the power of his displeasure. The poor boy must have been very worried over the last twenty four hours – but he was a real chip off the old block in the way he was dealing with that anxiety.
And speaking of the 'old block', Bruce was leaning against the far wall. He was impeccably dressed in an expensive suite, and somehow looked immaculate and centered, despite the likelihood he'd had even less sleep than Jim.
"How are you feeling, Dick?" Jim asked.
"I've felt better, felt a lot worse too, so I'm sure I will be up and about in no time." Dick grinned, but it looked forced, and Jim couldn't help but notice that he was avoiding looking at Bruce. That was one hell of a complicated emotional mine field they were going to have to cross and Jim suspected ignoring it like they usually did would do neither of them any favours.
"You up to answering a few questions?"
"Sure." He flicked his eyes between Barbara and Damian, and some sort of fleeting silent communication seemed to take place.
"How about we go get some proper food for everyone?" Barbara asked Damian.
"No," Damian said sharply, "you may go if you wish, but I am staying here."
She gave him a flat look, but Jim could see the amusement in her gaze. "That wasn't actually a request, short stuff."
"It was phrased as a request," Damian sniffed contemptuously, the kid had balls, Jim would give him that.
"That was me being polite and giving you the illusion of a choice. Let's go, Damian."
The boy looked first at Dick, then his father and then at Barbara's uncompromising expression. He seemed to be weighing his options and his chance at success. "I get to choose what we purchase," he said at last.
"Deal."
She blew a kiss at Dick, who smiled, and then wheeled herself out after Damian, who seemed to have taken his new mission to heart and was steaming ahead with a destination clearly in mind. Jim suspected they were going to be subjected to some sort of food based revenge for his dismissal. Of all the difficult kids Bruce had helped raise over the years (Dick included) Damian was by far the most challenging, but he felt Bruce was up to the test.
Jim looked at Dick, who was staring at his blanket clad knees. Now came the awkward bit.
"Are you up to giving me your statement, Dick?"
Dick winced, and seemed to shrink into himself slightly, casting a quick, furtive glance at Bruce. Jim took pity on him, as Bruce obviously wasn't going to take the hint. "The DA will be arriving soon, perhaps you could go and have a word when she gets here?" he leveled a stern look at Bruce, flicking his eyes between Dick and the door. Not very subtle, but Dick was too preoccupied with avoiding Bruce's gaze to notice.
Bruce was a very bright man, and he picked up Jims meaning instantly, but he was also a very stubborn one, and he stood stiffly for a moment, as reluctant to leave Dick's side as his youngest son had been. But then he nodded and stepped out of the room. Dick breathed an audible sigh of relief.
"You're going to have to talk to him at some point," Jim offered gently. "And you know he is going to get his hands on all the reports."
"I know. I just need a little space to process. I'll talk to him."
"Don't leave it to long, you know how he gets, he'll be tearing the city apart if you let him stew."
Dick gave him his first genuine smile since waking. "He's lucky to have such a good friend, someone who can see through the bullshit and bluster."
Jim felt himself flush slightly, high praise from Dick, who loved Bruce with an intensity that had always been slightly awe inspiring, even when they were throwing punches and yelling at one another.
Dick gave his account of the past two days in an almost dispassionate manner, but Jim could read the tension in his body as he spoke. He grew visibly upset when Jim told him it had been Ramirez who had planted the drugs in the left-over food, and he glossed over some of the details of the torture – although Jim had seen much of it on the video feed. When Jim asked about Jason, there was a tiny hesitation before Dick said he was a friend. Jim didn't push it, despite how vague he was being.
It took a long time to cover everything, and Dick was looking distressed and drawn towards the end. As they finished, Barbara and Damian, as well as Cassandra and Tim trooped into the room, arguing and clutching boxes of take-out. And as Dick's face brightened, Jim couldn't help but think he was going to be ok. One way or another, he would have the help he needed to heal.
.
Note: only 2 more chapters to go!