The leader stepped into the prison flanked by three henchmen. "And how are we all doing?"

No one said anything.

"Excellent. Well let's get this show on the road. Will all the ladies step forward please?"

That got their attention. The men stepped protectively in front of the few women in the room.

The leader clucked his tongue. "Now now, no need for alarm. They'll only be going for pictures, so Gotham has some innocent faces to go with the demands."

"What demands?"

"I'm glad you asked, because this is all due to you, Mr. Dent. You will all be held until every single one of the people you arrested is found innocent of all wrong-doing and released."

Dent exchanged a glance with Gordon. "That's insane. There's no way that can happen. Or that it could hold up in court if all this is for the double jeopardy law."

"I'd be more concerned about whether it gets done rather than the legal ramifications after the fact," the man quietly advised, his face darkening. "And let's help get it done. So now ladies if you'll come with us for just a moment. We'll take you too Mr. Dent. And why not Gotham's very own prince. That should be enough."

Gordon couldn't take it. He stepped forward to do…something, but Dent took his arm. "No Gordon," he murmured. "Don't try anything. Not yet."

"He's right," Wayne agreed quietly. The two of them made their way forward and Gordon let them all go.

He was the only cop in the room, and he just let four hostages be taken out of his sight.

Jim had never felt so useless. Or alone.

An hour later they returned. The women were fighting tears, Dent was seething, and Wayne – Wayne was ashen.

Dent warned him with a glare not to say anything. Wayne eased his way back down next to Gordon (a surprise to him, since he figured Wayne would prefer to sit with his friends now) while Dent resorted to furiously pacing. The other guests moved to comfort the women, who cried a little but they weren't talking either.

Bruce drew a breath, and finally seemed to regain his composure. "Dent sit down."

Harvey barely spared him a glance. "I'll sit down when I want to sit down."

The billionaire snorted. Harvey paused, then settled against a wall as if in compromise. "Sorry." It was clear he was apologizing for more than the pacing.

Bruce rolled his eyes.

The idiot millionaire boy spoke up again. "You're sorry Dent? What did you do?"

"He didn't do anything," Bruce snapped at his friend for the first time.

"So what did they do?"

"Nothing they took pictures."

Tension began to build in the room as the two millionaires butted heads. It was clear from the others' reactions that they were not used to seeing Wayne so ill tempered.

"Well they obviously did more than take pictures."

"Yeah they kidnapped a bunch of people and are holding them hostage."

The blonde millionaire opened his mouth to retort, but Gordon held up a hand in warning.

Harvey spoke into the strained silence that followed. "What about those demands? What is the mayor going to do?"

Gordon shook his head. "He can't do it. It would be illegal."

One of the older billionaires snorted. "Like that would stop Garcia."

And like a shot the rest of the room was off, giving their two-cents worth about what the outside world would do for them. Gordon didn't add anything else to the discussion. While the powerful and elite of Gotham argued Jim stood and joined Dent. The DA had kept silent after initiating the discussion (that rather coincidentally, Gordon noticed, shifted the attention away from Wayne). Up close he could see how much Dent was still rattled.

"Are you all right?"

Dent didn't take his eyes off Wayne. There was fury there, but it wasn't directed at the billionaire. He refused to acknowledge his presence, but Gordon waited him out.

"They'd planned for us." When Dent finally spoke his voice was tight, the rage still simmering under the surface. "Planned the photo shoot all out. One group picture, and then individual ones with our very own background sets."

"Background sets?"

"Yep. So old Lady Milton was photographed in front of a blown-up image of her hospital and hospital equipment all around her, Hackworth surrounded with all her clothing designs." A disdained huff. "They went real original with me and just stuck me in front of a courtroom."

"And Wayne?" Gordon quietly prompted after Dent had fallen silent.

"And they put Wayne in front of an opera house. Pretty much recreated his parents' murder."

Dent clenched his fist, his nails digging into his skin. "They were dying to see him break down, but he never gave them anything. Just stood there and let them do what they wanted without batting an eye."

There was wonder mixing with the rage in Dent's voice. Gordon wasn't so surprised. A reenactment at thirty wouldn't be able to do what the real thing hadn't done at eight.

Dent took a slow, careful breath, let it out. He gave a faint, humorless smile. "I'll be going for the death penalty."

Wayne didn't surprise him. Dent's reaction on his behalf did. For the first time Gordon could truly see the idealism in the young DA, the fervor for justice. It made him feel old.

Gordon sometimes wished he could be an idealist as well. But he'd spent far too long surrounded by Gotham's smothering corruption to be anything more than a realist. And he'd called it, that night on the roof.

Things had gotten ugly.