ElseWorlds™: Saving James

Chapter 3

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Refer to chapter 1 for the disclaimer for this entire story.

 "You can't leave!" Jim Gordon bellowed. His breath reeked of scotch and he fumbled for his pack of cigarettes. He was past a pack a day already. "You especially can't go to Metropolis!"

Barbara quietly packed her suitcase, holding back the tears. She had to move slowly as the doctors said it would be some weeks before she would be able to regain the full use of her legs. Her lower back muscles had to heal. "You're lucky that you are so young and strong," the physician had remarked when she had checked out. "Most women your age don't work out as hard as you do. You have good muscle tone."

It had been meant as a compliment, a pick-me-up, but it had the opposite effect. Having another man look at her, judging her like a steak about to be eaten, made her feel dirty. It was a feeling she couldn't shake, that men were appraising her for their sexual pleasure. The only males she felt comfortable around were her father and Dick.

Bruce did not bother to come around for whatever reason. Her father was on the verge of damaging their relationship. Dick had been in New York the night before.

With his girlfriend.

"Dad, it's like I've been telling you: it isn't your decision to make. I'm a bog girl now…"

He coughed. "How in the hell will you take care of yourself? What will you do? You don't have any money. You have no friends there!" He was pleading with her to stay, but she had to question why. Four times he had brought up the idea of aborting the child in her belly and four times she had rebuffed him. Bad or good, she wasn't giving the baby up.

"It just so happens that I have a job interview in the morning," she said. "The Daily Planet is needing a researcher. I think I have a good shot at the position." She closed one suitcase and went to get another. She needed to get her father out of the room so she could pack her Batgirl outfit.

She had been relieved when Dick had told her the secret cache had been undisturbed, but that it had been the only thing. Precious few items had escaped the Joker's madness. The room had a permanent piss-smell to it.

It reminded her too much of the Joker's cold manhood. Regardless of her situation, she would never be able to sleep in this room or house again.

"A newspaper? Honey, they don't pay very well," he offered in counter.

She shook her head. "I have money and a line on a cheap apartment."

"What next? Welfare? Food stamps?"

She turned and shot an angry look at him. She tried to find some hint of sorrow for his words, but there was none. All she could see was the drunken anger of a man being pushed too hard. "Whatever I do, it will be my decision."

"You're being stupid!" he cried out.

The tears now ran down her face and she cursed him out of frustration. She was tired of crying.  She wanted to laugh again. "At least I'm not throwing my life away! You keep drinking and smoking like that and you'll have a heart attack. Again."

"I'd rather be a dead drunk than the mother to Satan," he hissed.

She was about to reply when the doorbell rang. Jim Gordon looked at his daughter and shook his head. He let loose with a few more words, most of them directed at the Joker and then stomped down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairwell, he drew his service revolver. Never again would he be caught off-guard.

He opened the door a crack and then put the weapon back in his holster, which was hidden from view by the door. "Dick Grayson?"

"Sir," Dick said with a nod. There was a cab parked behind him on the street. "Barbara asked me to pick her up and take her to the airport."

"To go to Metropolis? Why not drive?" Jim asked as he opened the door farther. He invited the young man in. "Let me guess, you arranged a private plane?"

Dick smiled, letting the image of the well-to-do son of playboy Bruce Wayne settle in. "I realize Barbara and I haven't dated in years, but when I heard what happened…"

"It's very nice of you, son," Jim said, closing the door. "I do appreciate everything you and your father do."

The statement was the end of the conversation, as Dick did not want to pursue the matter any further. Whether or not Jim Gordon knew the secret identity of Batman was something that had often times been debated on long nights in the Batcave. If he did know, he wasn't about to tip his hand.

Bruce Wayne, however, was known for his many charity works as was Dick and so the statement could have been nothing more than an innocent observation. "I haven't seen much of you in Gotham City this past year," Jim said as he led Dick upstairs.

"I'm living in New York right now, pursuing some business ventures here and there, studying when I can," Dick replied.

"So, what do you think of Barbara having this baby?"

Dick was caught off-guard and was saved by Barbara. "I don't care what he thinks either, Dad," she said. Dick saw that she had been crying and could guess what had been transpiring before he had arrived. "Dick, there are some things in my closet," she said. He knew she was talking about her Batgirl gear. "Would you get it and my other suitcase while I say good-bye to Dad?"

Dick nodded and squeezed past Jim. Alone on the stairs, father and daughter stared at each other. Barbara was the first to break the silence. "Dad, I love you…I love you so very much, but I can't…"

            "Baby," Jim said as he started to cry. The scotch was making it easy for the tears to flow. "Don't you realize how this…this…child will change your life? It's the fruit of poisoned loins. It's a disease, a virus that is going to consume you."

"Like your disease is consuming you?" The argument and debate were pointless. He was not going to change his mind and she was not going to change hers. "Good-bye, Dad."

Dick appeared at the top of the stairs with two suitcases and a clothing bag. Jim refrained from speaking his mind and instead turned around and marched down the stairs, lighting a cigarette as he went.

He never said good-bye.

* * * * *

The Batman stared into the darkness, a cool wind blowing his heavy cape. His jaw was set, the demeanor was in place. Here stood a modern day knight, a dark protector for a city full of evil. Yet, he felt he was a failed knight, a fool in leather trying to play the hero.

"It's been awhile since we talked," Jim Gordon said as he stepped out onto the roof the Gotham Municipal Building. The famous Bat-Signal was turned off, the roof in almost complete darkness. The light from Jim's cigarette cast an eerie glow on the Commissioner's face. He looked old and worn out. "I never did thank you for saving me."

"It was implied," the Batman responded. He draped his cape over his shoulder, putting up a defensive barrier between him and his best friend.

"How do you deal with it?" Jim asked after taking a long drag. "How do you deal with the loss of a child?"

Batman thought back over his career and the people he had attracted to his side. Dick and he weren't even talking and that was the one person whom he always thought he could turn to. Jason was gone, killed by the Joker because Batman tried to be a little less firm than he had been with Dick, or at least that was how he saw it. "You don't. Everyday you are reminded and everyday you have to find some reason to push on."

"I noticed you've been flying solo recently; something happened to the new Robin I supposed. Retirement?"

Batman nodded. Jim continued. "Barbara left for Metropolis yesterday. Dick Grayson, of all people, helped her move." There was no reaction from the Batman, but Jim hadn't expected any. "My little girl is gone."

"You needed a cooling off period, " Batman offered. It had been the same justification he had used when Dick had severed ties with him. "You've both been hurt very badly."

"Do you think she should keep the baby?" Jim asked suddenly. The Batman was caught off guard by the desperation in his friend's voice. The internal struggle within the veteran cop was plain to see. He loved his daughter but despised the Joker.

"I don't think my opinion matters," Batman said, remaining neutral. In fact, he had been contemplating that very thought now for weeks, ever since it was discovered that Barbara was carrying the Joker's child. He had no idea what he would have done in the same situation; his only consolation was that Barbara had remained strong.

He was also happy to hear Dick was there as well. Despite their differences of opinion and philosophy, he respected the young man and knew he would watch over her. "Okay, then," Jim said, throwing down the cigarette and pulling out a silver flask. "Should I have let you kill the Joker?"

Batman scowled. "I don't kill, Jim; you know that."

"Maybe you should."

"I'm not an assassin," Batman began, slightly hurt at what he was hearing. It wasn't that he was being told that he wasn't doing his job, as he knew that he was. It was listening to a man who had, for years, upheld the law no matter what. Jim Gordon had been an inspiration to the Batman every time he felt like giving up.

"I could handle, I think, her being hurt or crippled," Jim said, looking into the darkness, "but this is different. It's so wrong. It's like the complete reverse of the Immaculate Conception of Christ." He took another drink and offered the flask to the Batman. The Caped Crusader took it and turned it upside down.

Jim watched the scotch pour onto the gravel spread out on the rooftop. "I've got more in my office," he said.

"Then I'll get that, too," Batman said before putting the flask into a fold in his cape. "You're on duty."

"For now," Jim said, leaving a bit of mystery in the reply. Batman wondered if he was considering quitting the force.

Batman tried to change the subject. "There's someone new in town; she calls herself the Huntress."

Jim nodded. "Dark-haired in tight purple leather? Yeah, the beat cops can't stop talking about her. I suppose she's one of yours?"

"No; and she's dangerous, too. She an inch away from killing if she hasn't done it already," the Batman said. He suspected that she might have murdered some criminals, mobsters mostly, but he had no direct evidence. "I'm going to warn her off."

Jim shrugged. "If I see her first, I'll talk with her." Batman didn't like the tone his friend had used. It was a tone of complacency, of simply not caring anymore. There was something else as well.

As Bruce Wayne, the Batman sat on several loan committees for the major banks in Gotham City. Jim Gordon had applied for a substantial loan earlier that day, putting up his house and other items as collateral. It was a small business loan and he had put down, of all people, Bruce Wayne as a reference.

Outside the costume, Bruce was familiar with Jim Gordon, but not so much that he would think that the Commissioner would put him down to speak of his character. It was saying something else and Batman had been leery to say anything about it. Now, looking at the downward spiral his friend was about to embark on, he felt it imperative to say something, to reach a hand out.

He couldn't fail someone again. "How long have you known?"

"What? You mean who you are?" He laughed. "Dick confirmed it by showing up yesterday. I knew she was Batgirl." He sighed and turned to his friend. "I always thought you could protect her when I wasn't around. Maybe you did; maybe you still are by sending young Grayson." Jim could not know how deep the rift between father and son had grown. To him, it was all an act for the outside world. "Me? I couldn't stop what happened. All of my training, all of my authority meant nothing. They raped and sodomized my daughter and me. That grinning bastard got my daughter pregnant! I couldn't do a damn thing to stop it! I was weak!"

He pulled out the cigarette pack and quickly put one of the cancer-sticks in his mouth. He paused before lighting it. "I never meant to discover your identity; I didn't care. You were doing the right thing, or so I thought."

"I don't…"

"We don't protect this city, we absorb its pain. You, me, Dick, Barbara…we're nothing but Gotham's set of punching bags. Maybe its time we punched back." He inhaled deeply. "You're a good man, Bruce, but you aren't helping. You prolong the problem. It's time for a different philosophy."

"What? Killing criminals? Become the judge and jury? Circumventing the law?" Batman shook his head at the idea. "Our goal is justice; sometimes justice is not fair."

Jim laughed. "Fuck justice; I want revenge."

Batman started to say something, but Jim just turned and walked away, a cloud of smoke trailing behind him. After the Commissioner had gone back in, Batman noted something gleaming in the moonlight. He got down on his haunches and reached for the object and held it up in the dim starlight.

"No," he said as he examined Jim Gordon's badge.