The warmth of the building I'd just exited enveloped me once more, my body moving without conscious thought. Sound startled me, as if my world had been on mute. Phones rang, keyboards clicked and voices layered over each other in a confusing mess, each demanding news from static radios.
My ears picked out faint pieces; the startling puzzle that had woken me from my shock induced trance, slowly falling together.
-Joker apprehended, fire in-
-e looks to be injured-
-Batman-
-'er closing-
-position-
Tense muscles in my shoulders refused to relax. Information was inconclusive at this point. I moved again, drifting along as if I'm meant to be there, observing the chaotic jumble of the police station with new eyes. Almost no one was stationary, every person up in a flurry of anxious movement. I move to mingle with them, strides quick and purposeful as I twist, sidestep and slip my way around distracted officers.
I try to keep out of the way as much as possible, spotting a nearby bathroom along the next wall. Static sparks again, but I can't stop in the middle of the hallway; I need to reach the door before I'm seen.
-ot him!-
-e's out cold-
-bringing him in-
'What am I doing?'
Hurrying into a stall and clicking the door shut doesn't bring me any relief. My heart pounds and I curl my cold hands to my chest; trying to fold them into the faded fabric of the brown hoodie I'd been given. My wet sneakers squeak against the linoleum floor. The air smells like piss. I swallow, but my mouth remains dry.
'I can't go back out there! I can't-!'
The bathroom door opens and a harsh voice barks out. "We got him!"
It's a man's.
Horror fills me as a younger one answers, skeptical. "Did we really? He's been pretty hard to catch so far…"
"Yeah! The boys just called it over the wire. They're bringing him here."
A zip and the shifting fabric. Then a sigh as liquid trickles. I try to keep still, resisting the urge to hop up onto the toilet seat.
"How much longer?"
Another sigh. My breath sticks in my throat and I stare fixatedly at the horrid olive-green stall door.
"They said fifteen, ten minutes ago."
The sound of flushing and shuffling feet indicates their departure and I take a moment to suck in oxygen. Then I move. I don't look at the urinals on the wall out of principal- as if I need another reminder.
Ducking out is quick; darting behind a convenient file cabinet is quicker. My sight flickers over the restless faces revolving about the room. Then the two double doors directly across from me burst open. The eyes of the panting, disheveled officer standing in the threshold meet my gaze head on- and then slide away like water over ice.
I'm lucid enough to be disturbed by the twinge of unease that settles in my gut, but something is happening, something monumental and I can feel the greatness of it building in the room.
Time stops. And for one moment, my world crashes down on me because 'Good God, he's not real, he can't be, he's a Comic Book Hero.'
But three burly men are lifting Bruce Wayne, no, lifting Batman, dragging his unresponsive form around the raised walkway of the open spaced room. The tenants of the cubic offices down below suddenly grow silent, all eyes watching. The sudden absence of sound only enhances the Christmas music filtering in though someone's speakers, the noise like a macabre march.
I barely notice other people entering the room; too absorbed in shrinking into the wall when I realize that they're going to pass me.
There is a tremor in my limbs, an uncontrollable shaking as I finally, finally, grasp what all of this means; for myself and for Gotham.
They pass me, his worn, tattered cloak flapping limply. My hand reaches out almost on its own and - carefully, like a vision that will shatter- I touch him. It's ridiculously unreal, but the Kevlar is rough, the belt, smooth. Then something whirls and there is the tiniest of clicks.
"Hey! What are you doing here?"
Flinching as if struck, my head whips up, blond hair obscuring my vision until its caught in the strikingly direct gaze of one who can only be a young James Gordon.
I bolt for the nearest exit.
