41. Savior

It had been a long day.

After Carla's party finally wrapped up and the guests left the bar, Jason pulled Dora into the cellar to make up for lost time during their week-long separation. She should have told him no… but she couldn't restrain herself. To the say the least, she was pleasantly exhausted when she finally fell asleep.

But when anxious dreams woke her up early the next morning, Jason was already gone. She wanted to go back to sleep, but she had to clean up the party's leftover mess and prepare the Alibi for normal business hours.

After that, she had to carry most of the shift because Cali arrived to work an hour late and Rochelle was still too hungover to take orders in the evening. Dora managed to squeeze in a power nap in her office during the lull right after the dinner rush, when Rochelle and Cali wouldn't be overwhelmed. When she woke up, sent Rochelle home early to nurse her hangover—and Cali had already left without being excused.

The rest of the shift, Dora contemplated firing Cali and calculated if she could afford to pay a second bartender without Jason's help. After last call, she was alone when she stepped out onto the sidewalk to finally lock up and go home.

Shimmering red and blue lights bathed the Alibi's storefront before Dora could put the keys back in her pocket. Exasperation made her sigh sound like a growl. She turned around.

Detective Bullock leaned against the hood of an unmarked cruiser, smoking a cigarette. "Get in."

"Am I under arrest?"

Bullock dropped his cigarette and stomped it out. "Not if you cooperate."

Dora was so tired, she seriously weighed the merits of telling Bullock to fuck off, and that she would stop by first thing in the morning. However, she remembered the last time she had shown him overt disrespect—he wasn't exactly a crooked cop, but he used every rule in the book against her. It really wasn't worth the trouble.

"Fine." Dora stomped over to the car. When Bullock made a move to open the door and guide her into the backseat, Dora gave him a look that nearly singed the eyebrows off his face. Bullock backed off while she opened the door herself and slid inside.

"For the record," Renee said, looking back at her from the front seat, "he wanted to pick you up last night, but I talked him out of it."

"Gee, thanks, Tía," Dora said, her tone dry.

"You're related?" Bullock asked, getting into the driver's seat.

"By marriage. Not close enough to be a conflict of interest on this case," Renee said. "Drive, we don't want to keep him waiting."

"Keep who waiting?" Dora asked.

Renee replied, "Commissioner Gordon."

#

"Through here," Renee said, ushering Dora through the Commissioner's office door.

Gordon had a corner office on the tenth and top floor of the GCPD's brick-laden One Police Plaza, but that didn't mean it had a magnificent view of the Gotham skyline through floor-to-ceiling plate glass windows like most executive and administrative offices.

No, the view through the clunky, single-hung windows only showcased the concrete parking garage that housed the GCPD's motor pool—and those were windows not obscured by the numerous file cabinets and boxes that cluttered the room. The large L-shaped desk and long conference table were stacked with papers and folders. The lounge area's couch had an unkempt blanket and pillow.

Dora saw an older white man in his mid-to-late fifties looking out an open window, an unlit cigarette hanging below his bushy walrus mustache. His hair was mostly grey, but with a few streaks of it's original rusty red. Having seen him on the news countless times, she knew this was the renowned and infamous Commissioner Gordon.

"Harv, you got a light?" he asked.

Bullock pointed at the chair in front of Gordon's desk and told Dora, "Sit." She complied as Bullock shuffled over to Gordon, trying to avoid bumping into the teetering stacks of documents in the office. He produced a Zippo.

"Thanks," he said, leaning toward the flame. He puffed a few times until the cigarette stayed lit. Dora recognized the scent of menthol—her mother used to smoke those. "Get the lights on the way out."

Get the lights? Dora asked herself as she watched Renee and Bullock make their leave. She turned around just as the lights shut off and the door closed, only to be blinded by Gordon's desk lamp, pointed right at her face.

She hissed in pain and shut her stinging eyes to avoid the glare. "What the fuck?" she cursed, seeing spots behind her eyelids. She knew this was an interrogation tactic—to make her uncomfortable. At least it was better than stewing in a cell for eight hours like last time.

Gordan cleared his throat. "Who is the Red Hood?"

"Really? This again?" Dora said, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes. Her sight wasn't adjusting well. The room was dark—she could only see what was lit by the desk lamp and the lights coming from neighboring buildings. Shadows engulfed the room.

"The deal," Gordon sighed from the shadows, beyond her vision. He released heavy menthol smoke in her direction. "Same as before, DA backed and approved: if you tell us who Red Hood is, you get immunity." He stepped out of the shadows into view. "I'm going to ask you one more time."

"And I'm going to give you the same answer," Dora said, clearing her throat. "One more time."

"Who is Red Hood?" Gordon said dully, as if he was reciting a script.

Dora was getting frustrated. She replaced her glasses and said, "Alright, say you can connect me to Red Hood. Plenty of people in Park Row know him. Interacted with him. He's driven the gangs and racketeers out of our community. Is that a crime? You don't have any proof that I've done anything other than talk to him. You have no proof that I'm associated with any crime he's ever committed."

"Except the night he murdered all those men in the alley behind your bar."

Dora's heart skipped a beat. "I… was a witness. I called it in myself. He saved me that night. Those men were going to assault me and my friends."

"Friends?" Gordon ashed his cigarette. "You said in your statement you were alone."

Fuck. Dora cringed at her mistake. "They… They got away before Red Hood showed up."

Gordon nodded and waved his hand. "Sure, sure, fair enough…" He dangled his cigarette from his lips and he opened a file. "But those men that assaulted you…" He flipped a page. "Sergei Shikolai, Mikhail Petrov, Yevgeny Novikov… they were extorting you beforehand, am I correct? On behalf of Roman Sionis and the False Face Society."

Dora swallowed a lump in her throat. "Yes."

"Red Hood took care of them for you? You no longer have to deal with paying protection to the mob?"

"Yes," Dora said, seeing an opening. "The bar's doing really well because we don't have crooks leaching our profits."

"Right," Gordon said, putting down the file. "Those were also the men that were accomplice to your father's murder." Gordon coughed. "Allegedly."

"Um… Yes?"

"That's what we call motive."

"What?"

"You're better off with those men dead," Gordon said plainly. "You ordered a hit. Red Hood took them out."

Dora's brain locked up.

Gordon's line of reasoning made perfect sense—but it led to a false conclusion. She was so flabbergasted, she almost forgot to be angry. "I didn't… Don't put words in my mouth! Why would I call the cops if I ordered a hit on them?"

"Red herring. A crooked EMT is an easy way to dispose of bodies. Your Uncle Reilly knows all about that."

Fuck! Dora couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had always thought the GCPD were incompetent idiots, but this interrogation was proving that they were sinister and corrupt. She could handle detectives Bullock and Montoya, but the Commissioner of the Police himself? She cursed herself for her arrogance. Gordon was the head of the whole Gotham City Police Department for good reason. Suddenly, poignantly, Dora wished she had declined coming. She could have touched base with Jason, and likely had gotten a decent lawyer to parry all those stupid questions and convince her not to shoot her mouth off like an idiot.

"That will never stick in court," she finally said, more hopeful than certain. "I want my lawyer."

Gordon shrugged. "Maybe, but it won't have to stick. Lawyering up is smart, but the DA will make sure you can't afford bail. You'll spend months in jail awaiting trial. By then, you'll reek of prison…" He blew a cloud of smoke. "And juries hate that smell."

"Are you serious? This is why the whole city calls the police corrupt! Incarcerating its own citizens rather than the villains that prey on them? Why did my uncle lose five whole years of his life for running scrips for people that couldn't afford them? Why is the god damn Joker only locked up for a fucking weekend when he's killed dozens of people? What the fuck is wrong with all you cops? Do your fucking jobs! You're supposed to protect and serve your citizens, not arrest and incarcerate them."

"Why does Red Hood protect you?" Gordon asked, ignoring her whole tirade.

"Because the GCPD won't," Dora spat, trying to pull him back.

"He clearly favors you."

"So fucking what? It's not a crime to know a criminal."

"No, but it is a crime to aid and abet one."

"Back off! I have rights!" Dora stood, having had enough. "Leave me alone! You can't force me to testify against my—" She clapped her mouth shut. Fuck!

"Against your… boyfriend? Partner?" Gordon arched an eyebrow. "Spousal privilege is reserved only to married couples. You're saying you're married to Red Hood?"

"What?" Dora gulped. Another fucking trap. God damn it. "No. I never said that."

Gordon placed his cigarette on an ashtray and started polishing his glasses. "But Red Hood is your partner. Until now you denied any relationship with him. That's called perjury, Miss Silva."

God damn it, Dora, shut your fucking mouth, she told herself. They're working you up so you slip. The cops had suspected as much, but now they almost got her to admit it. "I want my lawyer."

"Sure," Gordon said. "But lawyer or not, defense or not, we have enough to send you to prison for a long time."

He let that statement linger.

Dora's heart sank, and she felt despair. It was like trying to breathe under water.

"Please don't do this," she finally said, her eyes heavy with tears. "There are real criminals on the street. I have a family, they depend on me."

Gordon couldn't meet her eyes. He turned his gaze away, and stared intently at the corner of the room, into the darkness where Dora couldn't see. "Some people that tell me you mean well, but you're misguided. That Red Hood has fooled you, and you're not at fault for your actions. They tell me you're not an accomplice—instead that he's using you, that you're just a pawn."

Jason would never do that, but only she knew. "Who's saying that?" Dora ask, wiping her tears on her sleeve. "Montoya?"

"Yes," Gordon said, adjusting his glasses so the lamp's glare on the lenses hid his eyes. "But there are others too. Others like him."

Dora was confused. "Others like who?"

Gordon pointed over her shoulder.

Papers rustled behind her. Startled, she turned around, but only saw darkness—until a recognizable silhouette appeared in the shadows.

It felt like the temperature in the room dropped by a dozen degrees, and the floor beneath Dora's feet disappeared.

Anxiety gripped her chest—and the stress made her eyes finally dilate enough to see in the dark.

Batman.

He towered above her like a gargoyle, his distinctive pointy-eared cowl looming over massive shoulders draped in a black cape. The glowing white lenses of his cowl withered her soul.

She remembered, in stark detail, the last time she had spoken to Batman. It made her feel nauseous and afraid, like her heart was dancing on her stomach, trying to kick it out of the way so it could hide.

It was happening again.

Trauma does that.

"Dora," said the Batman in his rumbling baritone. "The only reason why Gordon hasn't served your arrest warrant is because I told him not to."

"Believe it or not, Miss Silva," Gordon stepped in. "I think you're right. There are bigger fish to fry in this city."

Dora gulped several times trying to find her voice. She couldn't look away from Batman. His presence was like a black hole, sucking her in. "Why are you protecting me?" she asked Batman.

"Red Hood has a vendetta on racketeers and anyone that exploits the city's poor and disadvantaged," Batman explained. "Arresting you will pull the GCPD into his sights."

"Putting good cops his cross-hairs," Gordon said.

Dora shook her head. "Red Hood would never do that."

"You might be right," Gordon admitted.

"Until now," Batman said. "Red Hood hasn't directly confronted the police. He's just avoided them."

"And we haven't been able to directly curtail his enterprises, because his fronts are too solid." Gordon polished his glasses. "I daresay they're more legit than racket."

"It's led to an armistice between the GCPD and Red Hood," Batman said.

"I don't follow," Dora admitted nervously.

"If we take you away from Red Hood," Batman said slowly, walking to a window, "he might go to war with the GCPD. The ceasefire will end. The city cannot handle that."

"Congratulations." Gordon ashed his cigarette. "You're the linchpin of the Red Hood Gang."

The weight of those words made Dora sit back down.

"As illicit as his methods are, we're forced to admit Red Hood is making a positive difference in Gotham." Batman turned away from the window, the lenses of cowl glowing softly. "But it's a difference the city government or the GCPD cannot abide." He paused and looked at Gordon. "Both the legitimate and corrupt elements."

Dora mentally chewed on those words, trying to understand. "You're saying you want Red Hood to stop doing a better job than you?"

"He's not doing a better job," Gordon said, bothered.

"Yes, he is," Batman said, stoic.

Gordon huffed, but didn't say anything.

"Red Hood proves that the GCPD is either corrupt or incompetent," Batman said. "He reaffirms to the public that a lesser evil that runs the city will always be an acceptable status quo."

"Twenty years ago, under Falcone, that was the status quo." Gordon sighed. "Listen, girl. A vigilante that directly opposes the police instead of working with them undermines the whole system. It might be effective in the short term, but it's not sustainable. It can only lead to social and civil collapse in the long run."

Batman stepped toward Dora, within arm's reach. "It'll be anarchy. You think it's bad when crooked cops are unchecked. Red Hood represents a brutal method of fighting crime that's worse. No accountability."

"That's why I'm not arresting you." Gordon leaned so close to Dora, she could smell the menthol on his breath. "You are the only thing keeping Red Hood off my back."

"Do you understand now?" Batman asked.

Dora nodded, trembling, perhaps from the weight of all the added pressure and responsibility she didn't ask for.

"Batman has vouched for you," Gordon said, backing off. He walked to his office door. "So now, as far as I'm concerned, you're his informant. The second you cease to be useful, I can and will arrest you. I'll go to war against Red Hood if I have to. So you better stay in Batman's good graces and not fall out of line."

With that last statement, Gordon left Dora alone with the Batman. She wished he would have turned on the light as he left, because sitting alone in the dark with Batman felt a lot like swimming in a pool with a shark.

After several long moments of silence, of Batman effectively impersonating a statue, Dora finally spoke up. "So I'm your informant now. You want me to turn rat?" She didn't want to do it, but she didn't want to go to prison over a man either—not even Jason. There had to be a compromise because Batman believed in justice—right?

Batman took in a deep breath, as evidenced by his already huge chest getting even bigger. "No."

"No?" Dora was puzzled. "You mean you don't want to me to tell you everything about Red Hood in exchange for my freedom?"

"You don't have to," Batman said, finally moving across the room. He checked the door, making sure no one (or Gordon) was listening on the other side. "I already know everything."

"What do you mean 'everything?'"

Batman crossed over to the phone on Gordon's desk. His cape parted like a curtain, his heavily gauntleted hands reaching out to unplug the device. He finally turned to face her again. "I know about your trip to Blüdhaven."

A hard lump formed in Dora's throat. Of course he knew, he was Batman. At their last meeting, he had told her he would be watching. She had no idea he could do it that well, though.

"And I know about your history with Red Hood," he said, pausing for a breath. "I know he is Jason Todd."

The inertia of that statement made her stay behind while the planet kept rotating. She almost tipped over in her chair, but she caught herself, gripping her knees to steady herself. "How long have you known?"

"Months," Batman said. "Since the night he visited your bar to help with renovations."

Dora gawked. "That long? Really?"

That meant that Batman knew Jason was Red Hood before she did—and that was the night she had gotten him shirtless and kissed him, and she still couldn't even tell it was him. If Batman knew his identity as far back as that, she couldn't fathom what clues he had picked up to decypher Jason's identity—and she literally knew him better than anyone.

The rumors were not exaggerated. Batman must really be one of the world's greatest detectives.

As Dora's rambling mind came back to roost, something occurred to her. "If you already know, why did you interrogate me that night on the roof?"

"Verification," Batman huffed. "The main objective was to warn you to stay away from him." He turned away from her, looking through the window blinds. "You didn't listen."

"Why haven't you told the police yet?"

Batman stayed silent for a considerable moment. "I know Jason wants to do good." He turned to face her again. "But this is my city. I will not abide a vigilante that works so closely with criminals. I will not abide a vigilante that is too willing to kill."

Dora felt a pang of shame. For the longest time, before she knew who he was, what kept her from approving of Red Hood was his lethal methods. Then… she got over it.

Batman was the paragon of Gotham city, the Dark Knight, the Caped Crusader. If her morals were too dark for Batman… what was wrong with her?

"I've waited too long for you to do the right thing. I'll give you one last chance," Batman said grimly. "You have two weeks. Convince Jason to retire and leave town. If he stays any longer, our ceasefire will end." He moved in front of Dora, and leaned forward. "I will hold nothing back"

She tried to unclench her jaw long enough to reply. "And if I can't do that?"

"Then leave him," Batman growled, standing straight. "Because, trust me, you don't want to be in my way."

Notes

Wow, I serve up a small dish of wholesome fluff and y'all go nuts. Didn't think I was that good at writing it. I appreciate the love and mad "Babies Ever After" theories. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside to find out my work inspires wild fan theories. I guess we'll just have to wait to see if they're true.

More cameos this chapter! And these won't be the last. I have quite a few more planned for later chapters, some old, some new. Speaking of, my Jim Gordon is portrayed by the excellent Ben McKenzie, because while the Gotham TV show wasn't perfect, it was still pretty damn fun to watch. I like him best, even though we've had great Gordons in Gary Oldman and Jeffrey Wright.

And spoilers, this won't be the last we see of Batman. I hope I did him justice since this is literally only the second time I've ever written his character. Let me know what you think.
Song Reference: "Savior" by Rise Against

UPDATE 06/07/2022:

Hi everyone! Just wanted to let you all know that I haven't abandoned the story! I love it too much to ever give up before officially finishing. The hiatuses might be long, but I'll always return! Still, you all should now why the story took a looong break.

Life hit me hard last year and I couldn't find the time or energy to write. I'm a teacher, and the kids this year were a handful and to top it all off... my cancer came back in December. It's not life-threatening, but it kept me busy dealing with it. Currently going through chemotherapy, but I have June and July off work, so I can write again! Updates might be slow, but I am working on the story daily. Currently wading back in by re-reading and editing already posted chapters for continuity and spelling errors. It could be a few weeks from this update when I finally post Chapter 42, but just be assured the story is not abandoned! It's just being written very slowly with lots of breaks between chapters. I'm doing my best! Thanks for all the support! And thanks for reading and commenting!

Version 41.1