I am, quite possibly, one of the worst updaters of all time. Ah well, so be it. Here's a new chapter folks. If any of you have the Dark Knight soundtrack, I would recommend listening to the song Aggressive Expansion...it seems to work well for this segment.
:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:
Chapter V: It's Gotham General
When Gordon came out of his unconscious state, lights danced before his eyes and his ears roared as he attempted to move. Letting out a muffled yelp of pain, he attempted to clutch his head with his hands; this only worked with one hand, unfortunately. The other limb was stopped suddenly and painfully; a sharp, hot pain in his shoulder caused him to lower his left arm.
Then it slowly started to come back to him- the car, being hit, Berg's gun going off, the bullet clipping his shoulder…the pain in his head must've been from the impact…after all, he was still healing from the crack to the head the Joker had dealt him back in the warehouse.
Keeping his eyes squeezed shut, Gordon didn't attempt to move, and didn't bother trying to open his eyes again until the pain that rippled through his entire skull lessened to a tolerable throbbing. Then, ever so slowly, the Commissioner let his eyes slide open, cautiously.
The light that filtered into them was painful, but not terrible, and it took him a long time to open his eyes half way. When they finally slit open, Gordon was vaguely aware of something dark above him. Giving a gasp again, he would have said something aloud when he was cut off.
"Commissioner?" The voice sounded familiar... "Can you hear us?"
"Where- where am I?" Gordon mumbled, fully aware that his lips weren't working quite the way he wanted them to.
"You're at headquarters, sir." When the polite voice said this, Gordon realized it was one of his men. O'Sullivan perhaps? Deciding to take the plunge, Gordon forced his eyes open all the way.
The light that came in was painful, but it allowed the man a clear view of where he was and who he was speaking to. It was indeed O'Sullivan, his quick green eyes looking down at him with a good bit of concern showing in his eyes.
"What happened?" were Gordon's next thick words.
"A civilian crashed into your car." He hesitated visibly before continuing. "Berg's dead. It appears his gun went off....the bullet hit your shoulder, sir."
Gordon's eyes narrowed at this, as he recalled what had happened in the back of the vehicle before the collision had occurred. "Son of a bitch..." he muttered, which caused O'Sullivan to raise his eyebrow momentarily.
"Is there something you should tell us, sir?"
Hesitating himself, Gordon replied slowly. "No...no, it's nothing." There was no point in revealing the truth when the man was dead. And his family had been threatened through hospital bills and the like. It's not like he'd done it for kicks like certain criminals Gordon knew of.
"How's Reese?" Gordon continued on to ask, hoping to lead O'Sullivan away from that particular topic. It worked, for O'Sullivan nodded his head curtly and got thoroughly distracted with his answer.
"Alright. He's in mild shock from the day's events, but he's physically unharmed." Lips tightening, he added, "He was lucky, that's for sure." Gordon was fairly sure O'Sullivan had been friends with Berg....he also happened to know that no-one on the Police Force was feeling overly friendly towards Reese at the moment...they might not care for the Batman, but what Reese had done had put them all in danger.
Gordon listened attentively, but as O'Sullivan was finishing up, his head gave a cry of pain, and he winced as a result, his capable hand fluttering up to his bandaged forehead. O'Sullivan noted this, and said, "Sorry, sir. With the hospitals being out, we couldn't find you any suitable painkillers. We can get you some strong Tylenol or something though, if you'd like."
"I'd like that very much," Gordon replied dryly; he didn't blame the man, but with a half cracked skull and a torn open shoulder, he would've thought it fairly obvious what he wanted.
"Right away," O'Sullivan said in response, nodding his head again. "I'll be right back." The man turned on his heel and left the room; Gordon realized for the first time that not only was he in headquarters, but he was in his own office. A makeshift cot had been made up for him in the corner by his desk.
Trying his best to sit up a little, Gordon's mouth opened in a silent gasp as he did so; it hurt like a bitch. His shoulder trembled despite himself, and his head ached worse than the time he'd been hit with the Joker's crowbar.
"Good god," he muttered to himself. Clutching his head once again with his one hand, his thoughts suddenly drifted to Bruce. It was no good, thinking about the man when he ought to be focussing on the task at hand; the task of catching the Joker once and for all. But he couldn't help it.
What had his last words to Bruce been? Something about staying home, he was pretty sure...good, good. That meant Bruce was still safe at home. But something tugged at the back of Gordon's mind; Bruce, or rather, Batman wasn't the sort of person to just sit by idle...especially not if someone he cared was in the fray themselves.
Gordon felt a mix of feelings at this; the first was a giddy wash of warmth at the thought that he was one of the people Bruce Wayne cared for. He shoved this down, however, with the anxiety that perhaps Bruce hadn't stayed home, that perhaps he was in some way about to get in a lot of trouble.
These thoughts were interrupted by O'Sullivan's return. The man was carrying the promised pills, along with a paper cup of cooler water. "Here you are sir," he said as he handed first the pills, then the cup over.
Putting the pills in his mouth before taking the cup with his one good hand, Gordon nodded his thanks to O'Sullivan before he swallowed. "Do you need anything else sir?" O'Sullivan asked politely, looking somewhat worried for the man whom he'd called his superior for some time now.
"No, no I don't think so," Gordon replied, carefully not to shake his head with too much enthusiasm lest it fall off his neck. Then he added, "What's the current situation?"
O'Sullivan's brow creased, but he replied promptly. "Not great, but not terrible either. Nothing's blown up yet, to say the least..."
"Nothing's happened?"
"No sir. But we'll know the moment something does...would you like to stay here and rest for a bit? Our medical squad said it would be unwise to let you move around much."
"Fine, fine," Gordon said, feeling slightly perturbed that he couldn't do anything. "Just do me a favour- pass me the TV remote."
O'Sullivan raised his eyebrow once more; he knew the Commissioner. He knew the man would probably get worked up while he watched the news, and would undoubtedly want to do something. But nonetheless, he handed Gordon the remote and said, "Now you rest up, sir."
"Yes, yes," Gordon replied, fluttering his hand. Even if he wanted to, Gordon doubted he'd be able to do much more than prop himself up for a couple minutes. Until the painkillers kicked in, that is. He hoped he'd be a little more mobile after that.
Giving him one more nod, O'Sullivan headed for the door and shut it after him quietly; before he had even left the room, Gordon had turned on the TV.
Gotham News wasn't much help; the news anchor looked a bit nervous as she reported that nothing had yet happened to any of the buildings around the city. Gordon didn't blame her; the Joker might have promised to blow up a hospital, but it wouldn't stop him from targeting another well known building as well, be it the News Station or City Hall, or even Police Headquarters.
Another wave of pain was rippling through his shoulder when his cell rang; seemed they hadn't taken that away from him at least. He was thankful for it, for when he checked the caller ID, he saw a number he recognized.
He hadn't dared to program Bruce Wayne's number into his cell, for fear of someone finding it, or suspecting that there was something more than mere camaraderie between himself and the millionaire, but he'd memorized the number.
"Hello?" he said as he flipped his phone open, not sure whether to be nervous or merely relieved. When he heard the other person's voice, however, his throat constricted.
"Commissioner Gordon?" Gordon didn't have to ask who it was to know that the thick accent was that of Bruce's butler, Alfred.
"Yes?" Gordon asked, finding himself quite unable to say much more than that.
"I thought you might want to know that Mr. Wayne has left for the warehouses you and your men were headed for before the Joker announced his plan to blow up a hospital."
Gordon's hand tightened on his cell, his eyebrows lowering over his eyes. "How did he know where we were g- never mind." He was fairly certain that Bruce had ways of hacking into their system, and was also fairly sure that they were illegal. He didn't really want to know.
"The only reason I'm telling you this," Alfred continued, obviously ignoring Gordon's last words, "Is because the tracking device on his Bat-Suit has either been destroyed or turned off...he's not showing up on the scanners anymore."
A cold chill went down Gordon's spine, but rather than going into panic mode, Gordon could feel his cop instincts kicking in. Staying very calm, he said, "Are you sure? Maybe he's just having problems with the device..."
"No sir. He designed it himself...and he's especially meticulous with such matters."
"I see..." Gordon didn't know what to say. Alfred sounded quite grave, and Gordon just didn't know...after all, Alfred seemed to be the best judge of Bruce's character, along with guessing what the man might've done in such a situation. "Do- do you think he's okay?"
"One can only hope, sir," was Alfred's only response, and Gordon's breath caught painfully in his throat. There was a pause on the other side of the line before Alfred said, "Have you managed to keep Mr. Reese safe?"
"Yes," Gordon replied, his thoughts still on Bruce- if the man was dead, he wasn't sure what on earth he'd do...or if he was bleeding somewhere with no help...or worse yet, if he was in the Joker's clutches again...
"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, are you alright?" Gordon was brought back by these words, and his eyes widened. "Your words sound a tad slurred..."
Astounded by the manservant's ability to pick up on such small cues, Gordon replied, "I'm...fine. There was a bit of an accident."
"An accident? Nothing too serious, I hope..." Alfred sounded quite concerned once more, and Gordon was touched that it was for him this time.
"No, no....just a crack to the head." Coughing, Gordon added in a mutter, "And a bullet to the shoulder."
Alfred caught it, however, and said sharply, "I would certainly hope you're not contemplating doing anything straining."
"If they need me, Alfred-" Gordon began to argue, before being quickly cut off.
"You're just like Master Bruce, sir...never know when to stop pushing your limits." The way he said it, Gordon wasn't sure if it was a compliment or something else.
About to speak, the Commissioner was cut off by a sudden rap at his door. "Just a moment," he said to Alfred before looking up and calling, "Come in."
It was O'Sullivan again- but this time, he looked a little more worried. "Sir, we've just got word from a couple of our officers who were stationed at Gotham General."
Gordon's brow creased further before he replied. "What'd they have to say."
"One of them said she was pretty sure she spotted the Joker entering the building, and when her partner went upstairs to check it out, he caught sight of the Batman entering one of the rooms. He would've gone in, but the emergency workers were ordering an immediate evacuation..."
It felt like someone had grabbed Gordon's beating heart with icy hands; he could hardly breathe at this news; Bruce was in a hospital that could blow sky high at any minute. Worse yet; there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing at all.
"Oh God," he said, barely exhaling his breath as he did so. "How long ago was this?"
"They radioed it in not more than a couple minutes ago. I came up here as fast as I could."
For the second time in two minutes, Gordon was about to speak when he was again interrupted. This time, it was by the television, that was still turned on. A news reporter was standing a fair distance away from Gotham General; the hospital loomed in the background, and she was giving an update on the situation, which hadn't changed since the last time-
And then it happened. There was a deafening crash, followed by a low thumping boom, and the hospital behind her exploded into flames. As it began to fall into itself, all Gordon could hear was the squealing of twisted, breaking metal, the rumble of the falling wreckage, and the roar of the fire as it ignited the building's gas lines.
The news reporter was now screaming into the microphone, and her words were being repeated just outside Gordon's door by his officers. "It's Gotham General! Gotham General's been destroyed!"
Gordon now knew what he had to do; glancing over at O'Sullivan, whose eyes were fixed on him, Gordon quickly spoke into his cell, "I have to go."
He could hear Alfred beginning to protest, but he pressed the red hang up button and shoved the phone into his pants. "We need to get down to Gotham General. Now," Gordon barked.
O'Sullivan looked like he was to say something as well, but Gordon growled, "I'll be fine. Right now we need to go check that everyone was evacuated." His heart throbbed for Bruce, but his brain was screaming, Did they get Harvey Dent out of there?
"Sir, you need stitches-"
"What better place to go then, but to a hospital?" With this wry bit of humour tossed out, Gordon heaved himself painfully off the cot and threw on his trench coat. "Now go get a squad car ready."
:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:
I think we all know what I'm going to say here...REVIEW!
