Title: Together We'll Face the Turning Tide

Part 2: Greet the Dawn

It's time to let go, it's time to carry on with the show.
Don't mourn what is gone, greet the dawn
And I will be standing by your side;
Together we'll face the turning tide.

- Poets of the Fall, "Dawn"

It was the beeping that woke him. The sound was incredibly annoying, like a digital alarm clock beeping at half its usual speed. Bruce grimaced, and tried unsuccessfully to ignore it for awhile before giving up and opening his eyes. He found himself staring up at a stark white ceiling. White light, dimmed but still harsh to his just-awakened senses, made him squint. He sat up slowly, aware of the dull throb in his back, and realized with alarm that he was in a hospital.

Then the events of the day came rushing back and his alarm quickly changed to panic. He glanced to his right and saw Commissioner Jim Gordon dozing in a very uncomfortable-looking hospital chair. His hand flew to his face, instinctively searching for the mask, but it wasn't there. His heart began to race as visions of prison cells and murder trials swam before his eyes.

Gordon jerked awake as the beeping from the heart monitor accelerated. He looked past exhaustion, like he hadn't slept in days. How long had he been sitting there? Bruce could only stare at him like a deer caught in headlights, his heart continuing to race. He had never before felt so utterly vulnerable.

"Calm down," Gordon said, his voice a little rough from sleep, but soothing and resonant. "You're safe. No one knows who you are. I told them the Batman kidnapped you." He snorted at the irony. "I should call the nurse." He reached towards the call button on the side of the bed. "You were in critical condition for days-"

Even injured and groggy, Bruce's reflexes didn't fail him. His hand flashed out and grabbed Gordon's arm before it could reach its destination. The older man started, shock and wariness and perhaps even a little fear appearing in his eyes at the strength of that grip, as though he had suddenly been reminded who the man lying in front of him really was.

"I don't-" Bruce faltered. "How did I get here?"

For a beat, Gordon just stared at him, at a loss for words. And then suddenly, with an intensity that bordered on desperation, "I called for a medevac helicopter. I couldn't let you die, so I had to take off your mask. I didn't- I never really wanted to know. When I realized who you were..." His voice died, and for a second he couldn't speak. And then he finished in a whisper, "I couldn't let you die."

Bruce let go of Gordon's arm. The seconds ticked by. Gordon moved to the seat he had taken earlier. He didn't try to call the nurse again. They both knew there were things that needed to be said before they were caught up in medical talk and police interviews. It was very late at night, and the room was a private one- only the best for Bruce Wayne- so there was no chance of being overheard. They both knew they might not get another opportunity for a long time, but neither of them knew quite how to talk to each other. The silence stretched on, only interrupted by the regular beeping of the heart monitor.

"I never wanted you to have to find out, least of all like this," Bruce said at last. "I'm sorry."

Gordon shook his head. Even two days later, he was still reeling. "I never suspected who you were even for a second," he said hoarsely. "I should have. There were so many clues. Over the past couple of days I've been going over every conversation we ever had and... I should have seen it. I just-God. Maybe I didn't want to see it." He made a helpless gesture and exhaled shakily, "I wish it had been anyone but you."

In spite of himself, Bruce felt a stab of pain and fear at the damning words. He knew, in his head, that Gordon was shocked, still stunned by the revelation that he had been the man behind the mask. He had every reason to be; Bruce knew that; his image had been so well-cultivated that now of course it would work against him. But. Gordon was the only person who really knew him. The only person left. If Gordon walked away, Bruce knew he wouldn't survive it. His years at playing a double life served him well. None of the paralysing fear he was feeling showed on his face. But he couldn't control the slight stiffening of his shoulders or the way his body shifted just a fraction of an inch away from Gordon, as if he was bracing himself for a blow. It wouldn't even have been noticeable to anyone else, but Gordon had spent too many long months with the Batman not to pick up on it immediately.

"I didn't mean it like that," he said, dismayed and at how his words had been interpreted, "Do you think I care what face you put on for the rest of the world?" At Bruce's silence, his voice rose. "Do you think the fact that you're Bruce Wayne could make me think less of you, think less of all the good you've done?"

"Then why...?" Bruce asked, his voice a whisper.

"Because Gotham failed you! You've lost more to this city than anyone should ever have to. And then to have to go out there every night, to be hunted by the very people you're trying to save, all because I turned you in..." Gordon's throat started to close, but he couldn't stop. The stress of the last two days, not knowing if Wayne would live or die; the intense, burning guilt he'd been harbouring for so long about all his decisions concerning the Batman, finally became too much. "It shouldn't have to be you," he said, his voice raw. "It shouldn't have to be you who keeps sacrificing everything. It should be me, it should be the police, the justice system. It was our job to fix this city, and we failed. So we had to turn to you. And you saved us, again and again; you saved me, and you saved my family. And then I turned you in. And I asked you to kill Lamburn. Bruce Wayne, the kid I was supposed to protect, and I asked you to-" He shook his head jerkily. "I've been there every time you lost someone and I was always too late. And all this time...all this time, you've been the Batman?" His breath caught in his throat and his voice died away. There were tears in his eyes.

Bruce could only stare at him dumbly. The sheer intensity of the guilt in Gordon's words had left him speechless. He had never known that Gordon held himself personally responsible for him. He knew, of course, that Gordon cared about the Batman. But he had thought that night when Gordon had comforted Bruce Wayne that it had just been an act of kindness from a naturally compassionate man with no real feeling for him behind it, except perhaps pity. Because Gordon had never really known Bruce Wayne. Had met him a handful of times, and had no obligation to him whatsoever. Bruce realised now that he'd been wrong. They might have met only a handful of times, but it had taken Bruce only one meeting with Gordon to know that he could trust Gordon implicitly. Perhaps that first meeting had touched Gordon, too.

"It was never your job to protect me," he said softly, throat tight. "What happened to me wasn't something you could have stopped. This city had already gone under when you first became a cop. The fact that it was left to me to become the Batman- no it wasn't fair. But it was my destiny, my blood. My parents were good people. My father tried to save this city, he poured his money into it, invested time and effort and hired experts to upgrade the infrastructure. And things were improving; he would have succeeded if he hadn't been killed. It was always supposed to be me who took up the mantle and finish what he started, I think I always knew that. But for a long time I hated anything to do with Wayne Enterprises, anything that reminded me of my parents. I hated Gotham for taking my parents away from me. I washed my hands of this city, ran away because I couldn't face my destiny. But it's my city, the same way it was my father's. I have a responsibility to it." He turned so that he was looking Gordon fully in the face, and held his gaze. "It's because I'm his son that I'm the only one who can be the Batman. I asked you to turn me in and I killed Lamburn because I knew there was no other choice. Those were all my decisions, not yours. And as for being too late to save them..." Bruce swallowed hard. "So was I."

Gordon searched the younger man's face. It wasn't the face of the seven-year-old child who had just watched his parents being murdered; nor the devastated face of the man at the funeral of his old friend and guardian. He could see that those losses had marked him irrevocably, so that he bore the invisible scars along with the others he carried on his body. But there was also a quiet strength in Wayne's eyes, a combination of savage determination and a hard-won acceptance of his lot. It was a look he had never seen before in Bruce Wayne …but one he'd seen more than once in the Batman's. For the first time, it really hit home that they were one and the same person. The man sitting before him was not a victim, but a warrior. Something inside Gordon eased, and he sat back in his chair. He felt drained and prematurely aged by the events of the last few days, but for the first time since he had taken off the Batman's mask, he also felt like he could breathe.

At the signs of Gordon's relief, Bruce felt the tension drain out of his own shoulders. He leaned back in bed, unable to contain a hiss as his back throbbed painfully at the motion. He saw Gordon's look of concern, and worried for a second that he would try to call the nurse again, but somehow the older man seemed to sense that he didn't have the energy to put up his playboy billionaire act just then. Silence settled between them again, but this time it was a comfortable one.

"So where do we go from here?" Gordon asked some time later.

Bruce thought about it for a second, and gave a bemused smile as he realised that, in spite of everything, nothing had really changed. He was still the Batman, Gordon was still the Commissioner, and they both still had their roles to play and a city to save.

"The same way we've always been," he said. "Fighting crime, cleaning up the streets of Gotham, every other cliché you can think of."

But the concentrated expression on Gordon's face did not abate. "Things can't go on exactly the same," he said. "I know who you are now, and that changes things." He leaned forward in his chair. "You're not in this alone anymore."

A wave of affection and gratitude for the older man stole Bruce's breath. "I was never alone," he said roughly. "I would never have survived this without you. You know that, don't you?"

Gordon looked away, embarrassed by the naked emotion in the younger man's eyes. "You don't have to thank me," he muttered, and Bruce surprised himself by chuckling.

He hadn't felt so light, so relieved, in a long, long time. He couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled, let alone laughed. He knew the reason for the change, too- it was because Gordon knew who he was. Bruce had never wanted him to have to know, never wanted him to have to carry that burden. But now that he did, he was fiercely, selfishly glad. The last few weeks had been the loneliest of his life.

Some of his thoughts must have showed on his face, because Gordon's expression changed suddenly.

"I saved your life," he said. As he saw Bruce's look of surprise, he hurried to explain, "I mean, I saved Bruce Wayne's life. I was there in time to stop you from bleeding out. So it would make sense for us to become friends, in the real world. Even Bruce Wayne sometimes has finer feelings."

Bruce didn't understand immediately. What Gordon was offering him was so above and beyond anything he had ever expected from him that for a few seconds he could only stare at him dumbly. Then the full import of what Gordon had said hit him, and a thousand protests and arguments rose immediately in his mind; how their friendship would cause great risk to Gordon and his family, how it might damage Gordon's reputation and credibility if people saw him as the kind of person who could be friends with Bruce Wayne. He opened his mouth to tell Gordon all the reasons they couldn't do this, all the reasons they shouldn't risk it, but Gordon beat him to it.

"I know what you're going to say," he said. "A week ago, I told you to tell me who you were, and you said you couldn't live with yourself if you took that risk, and I respected that, because you were going through enough as it was without me making it worse. But now, I know your name and your face. I've held you in my arms as you were bleeding out and I prayed to every God above that the paramedics would show up before it was too late. I watched in the ambulance while you flatlined and I waited here nine hours while you were in surgery. I can't live with myself if I don't do everything in my power to help you in every way I can, and I need you to respect that. And I refuse to let you go through this alone. I know I'll be taking a risk, but as I told you last week, it's my risk to take."

They stared at each other, locked in a battle of wills that seemed to go on forever. And for the first time in their long years of partnership, Bruce was the first to cave.

"Okay," he said.

END.

Whew! It is such a relief that I finally managed to finish this! If you can believe it, my laptop has crashed about four times this month. I back everything up on an external hard drive every day, but unluckily, every time I wrote a new paragraph, the damn thing would crash again before I had a chance to back it up. It was ridiculous! I kept getting stuck at the same paragraph again and again! I'm going to back this up NOW before the damn thing crashes again.

There, that's done. :D

It's been a wonderful experience writing this series. I had planned to make it a tragic ending- I was going to make this fic take place ten years later and have the Batman die from the bullet wound in after already having turned Gotham city around. But I changed my mind when I realised there was no point having them both go through so much only to have the Batman die like that. And I didn't want to cheat my readers who were expecting not just a grand revelation moment but also all the highly charged emotions that followed. I wouldn't have been able to give them that if Gordon found out the Batman was Bruce only to have him die before they even got a chance to talk. So, you have before you a happy ending. Hope you're not disappointed since I did keep saying in my warnings that the series would be very dark and tragic.

As for what I have planned next- first, a oneshot fanfic on the Bollywood film Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. I've been on this site since 2003, making me one of the very few Indian writers on this site and I STILL haven't contributed anything to the too-small Bollywood fandom. I'm pretty ashamed of other thing I have planned next is a Supernatural fanfic, something I said I'd do ages ago. But I won't give you any details about that in case I end up disappointing my readers by delaying again. :(

Before I go, there was a small scene I had to cut out because it didn't seem to fit with the mood of Part 2, but which I'm very proud of. I've posted it as a missing scene in the next chapter.