Gordon took the opportunity to remove his soaked coat, resting it on a spare surface, gun tucked away in the harness under his arm. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, merciless rain having penetrated his coats defences. It had been a long night. But dawn was still a way off yet.

Two years of working with a masked man, in the end he had given up wondering who stared back at him. Now he had his answer but not in the way he would have ever expected. He never imagined or thought it possible to be someone he knew first hand.

It had been early in his career when the Wayne's had been murdered. One of his first big high-profile cases. He had been there from the start to comfort a young boy who had just lost everything. To learn this was that very young boy, to uncover he had been working with Bruce Wayne for two years, trying to clean up this god forsaken city. It was a lot to take onboard.

Questions of course came to mind, but it wasn't as if Mr Wayne was in any condition to answer them. He was laid up on a counter, tube in his chest, broken rib sticking in his lung. All Gordon could do was watch as the man's butler cleaned the blood from the side of his mouth.

"This is my fault." Alfred mumbled, blood-stained cloth dabbing at the side of the young mans face, working the blood from the stubble on his chin. "Should have got through to him."

"You couldn't have known." Gordon found himself mimicking the comforting line Bruce had given him earlier in the night. "If this is on anyone. It's on me." Gordon was ready to shoulder the blame.

Alfred's hands stopped moving momentarily, eyes looking up at him.

"You said it was an ambush?" Alfred rightly recalled.

"GCPD's infested with informants." Gordon shook his head in shame. "Had a detective show up dead tonight. Kenzie, narcotics. Whole time he was in Falcone's pocket."

"There was a phone number written on his hand. Led Bruce to the Iceberg Lounge." Alfred folded the bloodied cloth inside out, mopping up the blood on the counter.

Gordon wasn't surprised at his inside knowledge, clearly, Alfred was a part of whatever the hell all this was.

"Thing is Kenzie was right-handed. Number was written on his right hand."

"You think someone in the GCPD set him up?" Alfred peered down at Bruce, blood just a smear on the side of his face now. He was angry, upset. The bloodied cloth clutched in a fist.

"I checked the reports. Search and rescue were never meant to clear that block tonight, someone changed the order." Gordon safely assumed Alfred would know he was referring to the discovery of the body. He watched the man lay the cloth down, one hand reaching up to sooth his temple, jaw clenched.

"Any suspects?" Alfred found himself asking for Bruce's sake. He'd been doing this long enough he was bound to pick up on a few things.

"Order was unsigned."

"And it was followed anyway." Alfred looked down with a chuckle.

"Officers are stretched thin; people are at their wits end with all of this." Gordon felt it necessary to defend his peers. But he couldn't be sure who was taking money under the table and who wasn't. He couldn't trust anyone.

The tension brought the conversation to a close. Alfred resuming his duties threw the stained cloth away, returning what supplies had been unused back to the bag for now. He gave a long look at Bruce before looking back at the lieutenant.

"Would you watch him for a second." The man almost stammered, emotions getting his words all caught up.


It was awkward to say the least, the lieutenant surely finding himself out of place in all of this. Alfred returned with refreshments for the officer, an apologetic smile on his face. He carried the two fine crystal tumblers in one hand, a decanter in the other. Whisky sloshed about within the refined crystal container; a 'W' carved on each piece with precise detail. Just looking at them felt expensive.

"I'm not use to entertaining guests down here." Alfred set the crystalware down beside Gordon. He was seated in front of the computer, the number of screens overwhelming at times. He clearly wasn't sure where to look.

"I think that's understandable." Gordon played along. On the surface he seemed to be taking all this well. Made Alfred wonder if he had been on to Bruce already.

The drinks were poured. Whisky tasting as expensive as the glass. The soft burn was pleasant, refreshing after the cold rain and flooded streets. They sipped their drinks in silence. Bruce lay not far, Alfred's eyes wandering over to him. Gordon took notice.

"What leads someone to all of this?" The detective in the lieutenant was starting to shine through. "You don't just wake up one day and decide to fight crime dressed as a bat."

"Too much money. And a lot of anger." Alfred knew he had said too much the moment he opened his mouth. He downed the last drop of whiskey in his glass, looking to the decanter contemplating on pouring another.

"Anger at what?" Gordon knew a lead when it was handed to him.

"It's not my place to say." Alfred quickly back pedalled. He thought better of another glass and instead returned to Bruce's side. Collecting up a damp cloth he began ever so carefully removing the black makeup from around the young man's eyes. Bruce was still completely out of it, but his breathing was a lot better, even his pulse had slowed up to a somewhat normal rhythm.

"But your apart of all this. Right?" Gordon turned in his chair, glass being placed back down on the table. Alfred kept quiet, so the lieutenant helped himself to another shot of whiskey, alcohol pouring perfectly. "I figured Wayne was a recluse. Just liked to keep to himself." Gordon chuckled into his glass before pulling it away from his lips. "Never could have imagined all this."

Alfred's suspicions had been put to rest. Not that it mattered. In truth he was concerned with the fact if the lieutenant had been able to figure it out, there might be others following the same trail.

Gordon turned back to the computer, fingers hesitant on the keys, still struggling to work the software. He was browsing over official reports on the Kenzie case, Alfred having given him the backend access to the GCPD files. The lieutenant hadn't said much on this breach of security, the most he got from him a nod of surprise.

"Don't suppose you've had any luck?"

The lieutenant sat back in his chair with a sigh.

"Every department got a hand in this case. Could have been any of them." Tracking down the latest informant wasn't going to be straightforward.

At this point Alfred wasn't sure what Bruce wanted from Gordon being here. He gathered he hadn't had a choice in the matter and assumed he wouldn't want him leaving until having a chance to talk to the lieutenant himself. When Bruce ever spoke about Gordon it had always been with praise, though up until now he had never deemed it necessary to reveal his identity. In the end desperate times had forced his hand.

The makeup was all but removed, though dark bags still sat beneath Bruce's eyes. Alfred adjusted the thin bandage around the tube still in his battered chest, making sure the tape held strong. He was all but ready to turn away when a thought came to light.

With careful hands Alfred pulled down one of Bruce's lower lids. His pupil was half rolled back into his head, no one present behind the blank blue of his eyes. Alfred could just make out the outline of the contact lens. If he hadn't been looking for it, he wouldn't have seen it.

"What is it?" The lieutenant had taken notice.

Alfred ignored him, proceeding to pinch the contact between his finger and thumb, being careful in the removal of the lens. He repeated the process on the other eye, Gordon watching, waiting for his reply.

"Excuse me." Alfred took Gordon's position at the computer, placing the lenses in their special holders, blue light shining through the clear material. The screen filled with reports and officer personnel files flashed away, another program taking the forefront of the operation.

The ocular program initiated the download automatically. Not before long the events of the day where being played out on screen, Gordon seeing himself talking to the Batman at the location of Kenzie's murder.

"You gotta be shitting me." A sharp laugh sounded from the lieutenant. "No wonder he never missed a beat." Gordon inhaled sharply, folding his arms he seemed genuinely impressed.

Alfred skipped ahead, time flying by through Bruce's eyes, distorting all speech and sound into an undiscernible mess. The screen went black with the removal of the lenses only to return soon after.

"Don't suppose you're calling it for the night?" Alfred recognised his own voice, having resumed normal speed. Though reliving this moment was the last thing he wanted to do, he thought the lieutenant might find use in what they discussed.

"Colson said this was bigger than I could ever imagine. That it's the whole system."

"Someone's tying up loose ends." Alfred watched through Bruce's eyes as he studied the same screen, a different video playing, program on another monitor still deciphering the phone number on the late detective's hand.

"Someone's trying to pick up where Falcone left off?"

"There doing exactly what we're doing. Clearing out the rats." Alfred was able to watch as Bruce's eyes flicked around the computer screens, seeing the moment the realisation came to him.

"Smart kid." It was clear Gordon was unsure of his use of the word 'kid' as soon as he said it. Alfred understood though. To many the last time they saw Bruce Wayne properly was when he was just a scared ten-year-old, orphaned, having just lost his parents.

"The Iceberg Lounge." Alfred closed his eyes, his own voice bringing him dread.

"Penguin."

The two men watched Bruce stumble, hearing the pain his troubled chest was already under.

Gordon pressed his lips together, seemingly only understanding now that Bruce had been injured before his encounter with the Penguin's muscle.

"Let go." Alfred stared himself down, as angry as Bruce in that moment. He should have done more. He looked away not able to watch himself.

"You're so determined to save this city you'll get yourself killed. Then what Bruce? What would've all this have been for?" He regretfully listened to what could have very well have been their final conversation.

"Justice." Came Bruce's eventual response, shortly followed by the roar of a motorcycle and the spinning of wheels.

Alfred tapped at the keyboard, fast forwarding the journey Bruce had made to the Iceberg Lounge.

"You asked before. What drives someone to do all of this." In his peripheral Alfred could see Gordon turn to him.

He needn't say more. Bruce having given Gordon his answer.

"Wish I could say the same for the scum secretly running this city." Gordon's revulsion for the scandal was no revelation.

Alfred resumed the footage, events playing out at a regular pace once more. They watched Bruce scan the area, infiltrating the building through a vent. He was being careful. But not careful enough.

"About time you showed up." The screen went almost bright white, tint of red only just sparing Alfred and Gordon's retinas.

"Penguin." Gordon's tone was like venom, a distaste for the man infectious from just the way he said his name.

They both watched, listened, to the back and forth between Bruce and the flightless bird.

"And in that time, I figured out where Falcone went wrong."

"He had too many rats to manage."

"A problem I'm sure the GCPD can relate to." The Penguin's words seemed to resonate with the lieutenant, the man shifting uncomfortably.

"Piece of shit." Gordon couldn't keep his frustration internalised any longer, slur mumbled under his breath.

The anticipation for what was coming made Alfred feel sick to his stomach. Though the not knowing ate away at him. He was starting to wonder if seeing it first hand would be any better.

"You, were his downfall sweetheart! And you know what they say. Those who forget the past. Are doomed to repeat it."

Chaos reigned. Alfred's eyes pinned on the screen as Bruce fell, the display going dark at times, Bruce's eyes having been closed. But he heard the gurgled cry of pain as he hit the water all too clear. They both did. Alfred's breathing inherently quickened as Bruce was peppered with gunfire, his grunts of pain audible even with the background noise.

They could just watch, nothing more than bystanders while Bruce fought for his life. Thugs surrounding him in the waters.

In the end he took a knee to the chest. Alfred closed his eyes, sound of water in his ears as Bruce began to drown. Unable to listen any longer, he slammed his hand down on the spacebar of the keyboard, pausing the past events. Turning from the past he rested his hands on the desk behind him, breathing quickly through his nose. One hand quickly came up to his face, fingers running over his eyes forcing back the tears.

He couldn't watch anymore. He'd decided he didn't want to know. That not knowing hurt just that little less.


Authors Notes

As usual love to know thoughts of this chapter, been fun to try get in the head of Gordon and Alfred. And with that I shall see you tomorrow for the next chapter!