XV - She's On the Loose
"There is nothing more dangerous, nothing more powerful, nothing more necessary and essential for survival than the lies we tell ourselves." - Megan Miranda, All the Missing Girls
•••
The beep signaling to begin the start of the voicemail sounded in Bird's ear.
Pulling in a deep breath she began, "Jim, hey, it's me…"
Her voice trailed off and she internally cringed.
Clearly, he'd know it was her. Not only from her voice but her name and number showing up on the screen.
She at first was thankful the call had went to voicemail and he hadn't answered, but now she was thinking talking to him might be better. If he was there waiting for her to explain she'd have blurted it all out instead of this message full of awkwardness.
"I, just…" She cleared her throat, "I'm going to be away for a little while. Probably just a day or so. It's not a big deal-"
Bird's eyes closed, she could have face-palmed.
That was the same phrase they both said to one another during the fight the night before.
The fact that both had felt the need to say that was a clear sign the exact opposite was true.
A laugh came out before she could bite it back. She melted down further into the driver's seat of her car.
If it sounded that unhinged to her own ears she could only imagine to Jim it would sound like she was erratically cackling.
As if the last traces of sanity she possessed had broken apart.
"I'm fine." She promised. Holding her breath until the urge to keep laughing was gone, "I mainly just didn't want you to worry or flash back to the last time I left, because this is different… even though now I realize bringing that up probably doesn't make it sound very believable, but I just need to get away for a day or so. I'll be back soon. Promise."
Oh god, she stared up at the roof of the car in disbelief. Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse she found a way to make it just that.
She clasped the phone shut. Abruptly ending the message and trying to end the torture.
Just as fast, she opened the flip phone back up realizing she probably should have reiterated that she did love him, but it was too late now.
And she couldn't risk trying to call him again. He was at work and probably too busy to answer but if she called again he might think something was wrong and pick up, then she'd be forced to try and explain further.
At this point the more she tried to explain anything the worse it got.
Leaning her head back against the leather headrest in the car, she pulled in a deep breath.
When the alarms had went off that morning it had felt far too early and a long time coming all at once.
Neither of them had done much sleeping.
Bird had been tossing and turning, replaying the entire disaster of a night the prior evening had turned into over and over in her mind.
Forcing herself to not try and explain anything further.
It seemed like the more she said, the more she inadvertently hurt him.
Jim had spend the majority of the time staring up at the ceiling.
It wasn't just the disagreement with Bird weighing so heavily on him. I
t was also, maybe even more so, how he'd heard Maxwell Symon say it was Barnes who'd thrown him through the wall.
He didn't have the first clue in how to approach this situation.
A few times, when he'd felt the bed move from Bird's restlessness he'd almost asked her if she thought it was possible, but he stopped himself.
Mainly on the count of how she openly and vocally disliked Nathaniel Barnes.
He decided he'd discuss it with Bullock when he got to work then at some point he'd poke around his boss' office and see what evidence he could find.
The morning had seemed to pick up where the prior night had left off.
The alarms went off and Bird had uncharacteristically gotten up at the first one, without saying a word to him at that.
By the time they'd met back up downstairs, he was in a rush to get to work and talk to his partner so he opted out of waiting on the coffee to brew and mentioned he'd just grab a cup at the station.
Leaving Bird suspicious as she knew how terrible the coffee was there.
The expression on her face hadn't been lost on him, he caught sight of it.
He knew they needed to talk about the things they'd said the night before, but he didn't have the time right then.
So he promised her they'd talk that night -and then left, or from Bird's point of view couldn't seem to get away from her fast enough,
We need to talk… tonight, okay?
He'd been distracted that he hadn't kissed her bye and those actions coupled with such a daunting sentence had spooked her.
So much so, that she returned to her bad habit of running away and fled the house not long after he did.
Thrown a few things in a bag and called to let her secretary know she wouldn't be in today, more than likely for the next few days.
Let her driver know he had the rest of the week off and then got in her own car and left it all behind.
The sound of her ringtone shook her from her thoughts and she knew who was calling her before she even opened her eyes to confirm it.
Just enough time had passed for Jim to have listened to the message she left and then scramble to call her back.
Maybe to talk her out of it? Maybe to remind her they needed to talk?
She didn't know, but either way she wasn't up to having that conversation with him.
So instead she silenced the phone and dropped it into the side pocket of her over night bag in the passenger seat of her car, before she grabbed the the bag to bring with her.
She didn't knock when she reached the front door of the house, just opened the door and walked inside. A few of the staff scurrying around through their morning duties gave a small pause to see who'd came in before continuing on their way.
Bird looked at the stairs and went further into the house, taking a left at the first hallway and heading for the dining room.
The spread of breakfast was on the serving dishes looked to have already gotten cold.
Strange, she thought, not like her best friend to skip out on a meal.
She eyed the bread basket, overflowing with croissants and muffins, beside that was a box of donuts. She squinted at them, debating on if she was hungry enough to eat anything yet.
Finally, she decided against it and moved towards the main sitting room expecting to find Oswald in there, but instead she found a very depressed Edward Nygma.
Laying on his side on the couch, a blanket draped over him, face half smashed into a pillow with his glasses pushed off center from the way he was lying.
"Morning…" Bird greeted.
He eyed her but didn't say anything.
"Where's Oswald?" She questioned.
"Around." He brought himself to say.
She started to leave the room but then stopped, curiosity getting the best of her and turned back as she asked, "What happened to you?"
"She's gone." Nygma said, pinning his eyes shut.
"She, who…?"
"Isabella."
"Who-" Bird started to ask but then realized that was the woman Oswald had told her about, the one who could be a doppelganger for Miss Kringle, "Oh…"
Unable to bite the back the first thing that came to mind she asked, "You kill her?"
"No!" He loudly denied.
Crossing the room, she sat down on the chair by the couch and questioned, "What happened?"
"She's dead."
"But you didn't-"
"No, I didn't."
Setting her bag down on the floor next to her feet, she asked, "Then what happened?"
"A car crash." He admitted, "They say she must have fell asleep at the wheel."
"Damn." Bird sank back further into the chair, her voice lacking the emotion of someone who actually cared, "It's just been a bad week all around, huh?"
"I loved her." Nygma openly admitted.
"There, there." She quietly said, as she reached out and patted his head.
He didn't budge.
"I should have told her that sooner than I did." He continued, "I spent too long trying to stay away from her for her own safety."
Bird's brows raised, she didn't think he'd known her long enough to spend it avoiding her.
"You thought you'd repeat what happened with Kristen?" Bird guessed.
"Yes." His voice was muffled as he tilted his face further into the pillow.
"But she wouldn't let me pull away." It was like someone had turned a faucet on and after barely speaking a word for the last day or so, he couldn't stop, "Isabella was so sure I wouldn't hurt her."
"Well…" Bird blew out a breath, "For what it's worth, I don't think you would have either."
He raised his head, angled his line of sight so he could see her.
That was the first time someone else had said it too.
Oswald hadn't even shared the sentiment, in fact, he'd told him his breaking up with her to keep her safe would more so prove how much Isabella had meant to him.
"Why?" He asked, his voice was thick with gravel. Dry even.
Bird was one of the only people who'd even been kind to him when he was still working for the GCPD, she'd considered him a friend at one point and him, her.
That had all changed when she thought he was trying to take Oswald away from her though. Of course, framing Jim for murder and getting him sent to Blackgate hadn't helped matters any either.
Then there was the incident of working for Hugo Strange to get information out of her brother at Arkham and threatening to kill him with noxious gas. It was only a knockout gas -but that didn't matter.
He was sure that was the one thing she'd never forgive him for.
And now he wasn't sure if she was being genuine or cruel with what she was saying.
"Because… she didn't hurt you." Bird offered a one shoulder shrug and continued to pat his head with her hand, "Before you got together with Kristen, she wasn't nice to you, right?"
He slowly nodded, still eyeing her suspiciously.
"So…" Bird continued, "I think deep down, despite loving her, a part of you always wanted to hurt her. She hurt you first."
That didn't make it okay and the few times Bird had crossed paths with Kristen Kringle she'd liked her well enough, but she also understood the need to hurt someone who'd wronged her.
Accepting she was being genuine, he laid his head back down on the pillow.
It didn't matter anyways.
Two women, who despite looking identical had been vastly different, he'd loved them both.
And now they were both gone.
Maybe Bird was right and he had reasons behind killing Miss Kringle that he hadn't fully let himself admit, but at this point it didn't matter.
Love had caused him nothing but pain.
Oswald, who'd been pacing around the house that morning, had gone back to check on Nygma. Ask him for about the tenth time that morning if he was sure he didn't want to come and eat breakfast, came to a dead stop in the doorway of the room.
He hadn't heard any of Bird and Nygma's conversation, but he'd stumbled into the room to see what appeared to be Bird petting his head.
"Bird!" He shouted, stomping his good leg down with a thud, "What are you doing?!"
"Oswald." She jumped to her feet, startled from the outburst and feeling like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar stared at him wide-eyed.
With a strained smile, the vein in his forehead pulsed, "What are you doing?"
Then trying to make a quick recovery, added, "Here, I mean. I wasn't aware you were stopping by."
"Can I stay here?" She questioned, leaning down and picking her bag up from the floor she slung it over her shoulder and waited on him to answer her.
His eyes darted back and forth between her and Nygma before he asked, "Why?"
"I think Jim is going to break up with me tonight." Bird stated, "Because I didn't agree to marry him."
"What?" Oswald's face twisted up.
"He proposed to you?" Nygma questioned, raising his head from the pillow. For the first time his tortured mind was getting a small break from the pain and constant thoughts of Isabella swirling around.
"No." She answered.
"I don't understand." Oswald nearly huffed.
"I don't either!" Bird tossed her arms out to the side and appeared more confused than both of them put together.
"Come." Oswald instructed, motioning for her to follow him, "Leave Ed be. He's going through enough."
Once they were out in the hallway, he took an uncomfortably tight hold on her arm and limped away, dragging her with him until he was sure they were out of earshot from Nygma.
"What are you doing?" He demanded to know again.
Shaking free of his grip, she shot him a look and held onto her now sore arm, "I already told you-"
"I mean with Ed!" He shouted.
His entire body shook from the outburst.
"Talking!" She yelled back.
"Then why were you petting him?" Oswald demanded to know.
Jabbing a thumb into his own chest he whisper-yelled, "I'm supposed to be the one comforting him through this tragic loss!"
"Oh my god." Bird rolled her eyes, "I was just talking to him. Not like I was trying to put the moves on him, Oswald."
"He is in a very vulnerable place right now, and you-" He motioned to her, "Put people under your spell all the time and you know how I feel about him."
"I put people under my spell?" Her head tilted to the side and she staved off a laugh, "First off; I don't know what that even means. Secondly, I have zero interest in him, okay?"
With a nod, Oswald let out the breath he'd been holding.
He'd overreacted, he knew that, but Bird had a way of effortlessly getting people to fall for her -even if she pretended to not know her appeal.
"You're my best friend." Bird reminded him, her dimples showing as she teased, "I'm not trying to steal your man."
"Bird-"
"And if he's so vulnerable, why aren't you in there taking advantage of it?" She continued to press, "I mean that's what you did to to me. Waited until I was in a really bad place and then kissed me."
Being reminded of one of his lowest points left him feeling like he'd shrunk down a good few inches.
"That was years ago." He sighed at being reminded of that night and what he'd done.
It sounded terrible, but that's what it had been.
He'd waited, waited until she was in a bad place with Harvey and upset over Liza being killed and then he'd made a move.
He knew it was wrong, but at the time he hadn't cared.
She'd always brought out the worst in him.
"Does Jim Gordon know you're here?" He changed the subject.
The last thing he needed was Jim showing up at the house pissed in middle of everything else going on.
"I doubt it." Bird admitted, "Probably assumes I'm with Ivy at this point."
"Who?" His expression twisted once again.
"Doesn't matter."
She waved a dismissive have through the air, "Can I stay here or not?"
"Of course you can." He almost sounded defeated, like he couldn't have said no, even if he'd wanted to.
"Thank you." She started to move past him and head for the stairs to put her bag down in the room she'd always stayed in, but he stopped her, "What is going on with you and Jim?"
"That's just it." Bird rubbed her forehead, "I don't even know. Somehow we got on the topic of marriage and even though he wasn't actively asking me to marry him, he got upset that I wouldn't agree to it and then this morning he said we needed to talk tonight and that's never a good sign-"
Holding a hand up, he silenced her and asked, "And you're what? Hiding out until he forgets what's going on?"
"No." She shook her head, "Or not exactly. I just need a little time to clear my head and figure out how to explain my side of it to him."
Accepting the answer, he offered, "Breakfast?"
Bird declined, saying she mainly was hoping to catch a few hours of sleep since she hadn't been able to the night before.
She'd only made it a few steps down the hallway before turning back around and starting, "On the off chance Jim does show up here-"
"I haven't heard from you." He eased her mind, "I'll let the staff know the same. Just…" His voice lowered, "Stay away from Ed."
"Deal." She agreed.
Until she heard him mumble something under his breath about how he hadn't gone to all of this trouble just to have someone else swoop in and distract Ed.
"You didn't…" She whispered.
He'd been caught, not that it was something he was hiding from her, but Ed could never know he was behind Isabella's death.
"Oswald!" She whisper-yelled.
"It had to be done." He hobbled back up to her, so close their faces were just inches apart, "She knew how I felt and she wouldn't end things between them."
Bird listened in a mix of sickness and horror as Oswald explained how he'd went to Isabella to warn her away from Ed, but in the midst of the conversation, she'd realized he loved him too.
Then still had the nerve to say she wasn't breaking up with Ed, that she loved him and had no intention of calling it quits.
"So you had her killed?" Bird's eyes near frantically darted back and forth over her friend's face, "Oswald, how could you? Do you have any idea what you've done?
Before he could defend his actions further, she complained, "He's going to kill you, you know that, right? If he finds out he's going to kill you. And then I'm going to have to kill him and then inevitably someone will come after me. You've just sentenced us all to death!"
"Always so dramatic." Oswald stared up at the ceiling for a moment, "He'll never find out -and even if he did, perhaps he'd understand why such drastic actions needed to be taken.
"The reasoning doesn't matter." She repeated, "I know that because if you'd taken Harvey away from me or tried to take Jim -I'd kill you."
"You wouldn't." He seemed nearly positive of that.
"I would." She was equally as sure.
Repeating something she'd said to him not long ago, he pointed out, "Killing me would destroy you."
"It would." She agreed, "But if you did that, if you knowingly hurt me that bad, I'd have to kill you -and you're right, I wouldn't survive that myself, but I'd still do it."
They stared at each other in silence, before she turned to leave and he frantically called out, "Bird! Ed, he… he can never know."
"I'm the last person on the face of this earth that would betray you like that." She asserted before shaking her head and letting the disappointment flood out in her voice, "You better have covered your tracks damn well."
With that she left him alone in the hallway as she headed for the stairs.
•••
Oswald was startled slightly from his slumber when it felt like the mattress he was laying on had shifted some.
He kept his eyes pinned shut, laying on his back with his face angled towards the ceiling.
It was probably nothing, he tried to fall back asleep.
Being awoken at all hours of the night wasn't something out of the usual.
After all, his own father had warned him of the ghosts wandering the halls in the old mansion.
Often times he could shrug any strange occurrence off, block out the whispers and disembodied echoes and fall back under sleep's sweet spell.
Which he almost succeeded in that night -until he felt the slightest touch on the side of his face.
He sat straight up, startled and fighting for a breath.
Only for the horror to come to life when he realized someone was sitting in the bed with him.
It took just mere seconds to realize the solid figure beside him was only Bird.
But those seconds had passed by like breathless hours.
His heart was beating erratically and his lungs had been deprived of all traces of oxygen.
"Bird!" He gasped, a hand on his chest, "What… why… what…."
"What are you doing?" He barked when he was able to catch his breath enough to form words.
"I can't sleep." She complained.
Her lips in a full pout.
An expression that previously would have gotten him to give her anything she wanted, but not anymore.
Those feelings he had for her were strictly in the past -or so he told himself.
Funny how the tables had turned though, he thought of how it was just a few years ago that he'd break into her apartment, sometimes just to stand there and watch her sleep.
How he'd trace her face with his fingers and feel like her skin was emitting electricity.
His hand jerked up to the side of his face where the ghost of her touch still lingered on his skin.
"Perhaps that's because you slept all day when everyone else was awake." He scooted up, leaning his back against the headboard.
Unable to stop himself from wondering if his father's heart condition was genetic.
Bird had just given him such a fright he was sure she'd shaved years off of his life.
"Jim Gordon?" He guessed the reasoning behind his friends bout of insomnia.
"No." Bird was fast to answer, "Well, not entirely. I mean he does keep calling me, but-" Shaking her head as if she could rattle the thoughts of him loose, she admitted, "I have to ask you something."
The breath he'd finally been able to take was forcibly expelled from his lungs again.
They were both firm believers in the element of surprise and this time she had the advantage.
Reaching out he turned the lamp on -on the nightstand next to the bed, only to be scolded for Bird who complained it was too bright, even though it was in reality a rather dim bulb.
"Oswald!" She complained when he made no move to turn it back out.
With an irritated huff, she leaned across him, her fingers fumbling around the lamp until she'd managed to darken the room again.
His entire body tensed when her skin had brushed over his.
He could smell the alcohol mixed with something sweet on her breath when she'd exhaled on her way over him.
Wine, he guessed.
As she retreated back to where she'd been sitting crossed leg on the other side of the bed, her hair tickled the end of his nose. Such a familiar scent and somehow still as captivating as the first time he'd witnessed it.
His fists clenched at his sides, restraining himself from grabbing onto her to hold her in place, how he'd wanted to bury his nose in her hair.
Take in a lung full of her.
It had been a while since she'd elicited such a response from him.
Could she tell? He wasn't sure.
"Why'd you have Isabella killed and-"
She started to ask.
"You know the reasons very well!" His voice was almost in a hiss and shot out so fast he didn't let her finish what she was trying to ask.
"Because you love Ed?"
Oswald's lips straightened into a thin line.
His eyes blinked several times, trying to readjust to the dark.
Her words were fuzzy around the edges.
Slurred just enough he could pick up on it.
"Bird…" Her name was accompanied with a sigh.
Her slightly inebriated state was nothing compared to the messes he'd seen in her before.
He was fairly sure she spent a good six months straight in a mixture of drunk and high after she'd moved out of her parents house.
"But you loved me too, right?"
Her throat was dry as she croaked out the question.
Now he understood why she'd insisted on keeping the lighting in the room so low.
Like a confessional, because that's what she wanted from him.
All cards on the table. Stripped bare.
Unadulterated honesty.
The irony of it also wasn't lost on him. Every single time he'd tried to profess his feelings in the past she'd gotten mad.
He still hadn't forgotten the time she put her hand over his mouth; as if she could shove the words back in and they could start over.
"Now?" He questioned, the word tasted bitter. Coated his tongue, "Now… today, tonight? Right now? When you've taken Jim Gordon as a lover and you want me to answer that?"
"I need to know." Bird insisted, "You said you did, but you never tried to kill Harvey Dent."
Oswald's face twisted up.
It was just that morning she'd told him she'd have killed him if he'd tried and now here she was, sounding almost hurt and offended that he'd had Nygma's lover killed and not hers.
"Is it because you love him more than you loved me?"
Her voice didn't waver but something in it sounded shaky to him; she was trying to hide how invested she was in his answer.
Holding a hand over a wound trying to slow the bleeding but the blood just keeps spilling out between your fingers.
"No." Oswald answered, "It's a very different situation."
He surprised himself by the softness in his own voice.
The need to console her outweighed the need for his own comfort.
And he was sure a part of him hated her for that, for what she always did to him.
She'd hurt him, over and over, and while she'd swear none of it was intentional it didn't make the rejection he'd faced from her over the years sting any less.
"Different how?"
The mattress shifted more as she scooted ever so closer.
Not just wanting an answer; but needing it.
The same way one needs water; as if her life depended on it.
"You are the first and the very best friend I've ever had."
Oswald gave in.
Why not give her what she wanted?
He couldn't stop; not even to save himself.
He'd already been sliced open; might as well let her poke around in the wound too.
"You didn't want to hurt me like that?" She tried to fill in the gaps.
"Quite the opposite." Oswald bit down on the side of his tongue. Honesty came as hard to him as lying did to others, but she could always pull it out of him.
Like an abscessed tooth that just had to go and once it was gone the infection would keep spilling out.
"You were mine." He continued, "You brought Harvey Dent into your life. Betrayed me -and for that I wanted you to hurt. To suffer."
The room was silent and he stared straight ahead of him. His eyed had adjusted more to the darkness again and he couldn't bring himself to look over in her direction; to read her face.
If he had, he'd have seen her lips were nestled into a crooked smile.
That there was a spark in her eyes.
As much as she rebelled against someone trying to own her, there was also something inside of her that came alive in the darkness. Twisted love was still love after all.
One of her many broken parts fed off of it.
Upon further consideration she realized her relationship with Harvey filled that category too.
The possessiveness. The power struggle.
It was sick, even Bird could admit that, but that didn't make it any less true.
Mistaking her silence as her being put off by the admission, he further explained, But…" He sighed, "You were already such a prominent piece in my life that I thought I couldn't live without you."
"Awww." She cooed, "You didn't kill Harvey because you couldn't risk losing me."
Having her in his life in any form, even if she was romantically linked with someone else, had outweighed his hate for the man she'd been with.
Of course, Bird thought, had Oswald have known how turbulent things had gotten between her and Harvey, then nothing could have saved him.
He winced, no one had touched him but it felt like someone had carved through his skin and busted through bone with red hot iron.
Tearing him up inside somewhere around his heart.
She'd gotten her way. Gotten what she wanted -as always.
No matter the toll it had taken on him.
She was satisfied and he was swallowed up in resentment.
Briefly, his mind flashed back to the argument they'd gotten in, in which he declared she was a terrible person.
It was true, he thought, she was awful, at times the very worst -but he didn't want her any other way.
With his eyes closed and a breath settled in his lungs he vowed he wouldn't fall under that spell again.
It had taken him years to move past the distorted love he'd felt for her,
It was suffocating.
Maddening to bounce back and forth from wanting to see his best friend happy and then liking her best when she was bent and broken.
Self-hatred and denial.
She'd always brought out the worst in him.
But things were different now. They weren't the same people they used to be and now he loved Ed.
And despite having been drove to kill Isabella to have him, he still thought what he felt for Ed was brighter.
In the times when he'd allowed his mind to wander, consider a life with Edward Nygma at his side as far more than just a friend, it felt like he'd been drifting into the sky.
Weightless. Constructed of clouds.
Back when his mind had entertained those very same thoughts about Bird, it couldn't have been more different. He'd hadn't just wanted her. He'd wanted her broken and bleeding with nowhere to turn but him.
It wasn't right, he'd be the first to admit it, but it didn't stop the impulses.
No, he vowed to himself, he'd wouldn't go back there again. Ever.
There was movement on the mattress again and he thought she was leaving at first, that was until she scooted around and leaned against the headboard beside him.
"You never answered me." He spoke.
Taking advantage of the line he'd just opened between them.
Bird was about to point out hadn't asked her anything, but he continued without prompting, "Two people so closely bonded are bound to confuse friendship for something more at different times."
She scooted down some to a more comfortable position and let out a small laugh, "I seem to recall saying something like that to you once."
What she didn't know was that those were her exact words repeated back to her.
It was a conversation he used to play over and over in his mind.
One that had taken place within a week of the time he'd kissed her.
He'd often wondered if he'd been honest with her that day if life would have turned out a different way.
"You did." He agreed, "And I asked you if you were speaking from personal experience? You never answered me."
"Oswald." Her tone was airy. Dismissive even. "That was years ago."
A maddened smile spread over his lips.
Typical Bird, it probably hadn't been twelve hours since she brought up the night he'd kissed her and now here she was trying to play the conversation off as though the passing of time had nullified it.
But she wasn't getting off that easy.
"You never answered me." He repeated, rolling his head to the side and watching her in the dark of the room.
"It would have been so simple, you know?" Bird let out a sigh, extending the the exhale much longer than necessary, "We're so much alike."
"One in the same." He agreed.
"Birds of a feather." She softly laughed at her attempt to joke and succeeded in earning a chuckle from him.
"That's not an answer." Oswald pointed out.
His breath hitched in his throat when she scooted closer. Snaking her arms around his arm to hold onto it, she leaned against his side, head on his shoulder.
The movement was like a time machine, transporting him back to all of the times when she'd done that in the past.
The immediate riff of tension that effected his every muscle accompanied with the shock that she was fully content being that close with him.
Before her, no one else had.
The only person who'd ever been affectionate with him before Bird, was his mother.
No, he swore, he wouldn't fall for her again.
"My dad-" Despite the laugh accompanying her words, her tone was melancholic, "That's what he was terrified of."
Bird remembered all the fights she'd gotten into with her father before moving out of Wayne Manor.
How Thomas Wayne could never understand why she was so fond of Oswald.
As an adult she understood where he'd been coming from now.
She had been a teenager when they first met after all and Oswald more than several years her senior.
It had to have seemed wildly inappropriate.
And it was -just not in the ways her parent's had been convinced of.
"He thought you were a predator." Bird laughed again, the movement jarring his entire body with as close as they were, "You are -but not the type he was referring to."
She laughed again.
"Still not an answer." He pointed out.
"And then your mother-" She paused, "The exact opposite."
This time it was Oswald who let out a bittersweet laugh.
He beloved mother, who on on occasion took it upon herself to tell them what beautiful grandchildren they'd make for her.
'Shush. A mother knows these things'
She'd say in her thick accent whenever they'd protest or argue with her no-so-subtle nudges.
"Oh, god!" Bird exclaimed, with Oswald's arm still intertwined with her own, Bird reached up and put her hands over her face, "Your mother! I… I stabbed you! God, she'd be so upset with me."
"She'd have been far more upset over your dating Jim." Oswald smiled, "You know how much she disliked the police."
"All liars, they are." Bird repeated what she'd heard Mrs. Kapelput say on several occasions.
The room fell into a mournful silence.
And for a moment Bird thought he'd forgotten his original point.
"I want an answer." Oswald cleared his throat. He didn't turn his head but he looked to the side where Bird was still nestled against him, "I've been honest with you."
"Yes."
He waited with inflated lungs, afraid to breathe and miss what she'd say next.
But there was only silence.
Yes, what?
Was she agreeing that he'd been honest or finally giving him an answer?
Whens he didn't offer anything else up, he complained, "Bird."
"You are my very best friend. My favorite person." She reminded him, "You know how much I love you."
The sigh he let out seemed to deflate him from head-to-toe, she really wasn't going to give him a straight answer. After it all. His confessions and open honesty and she would dare still bite her own tongue and leave him hanging?
"Our bond is so strong." She added just when he'd lost hope, "And there might have been occasions, over the years when those feelings we muddied and lines blurred. Like I said back then; it happens."
A jolt of shock and confusion prickled at his skin; like he'd been zapped.
"Why?" He demanded to know, "Over all these years. As many times as I tried to tell you… why didn't you ever tell me that?"
"Because I couldn't lose you." Bird answered solemnly, "You are the most important person to me and anything more than that would ruin it. Ruin us."
"And the feelings disappear as soon as they surface?"
He recalled something else she'd said during their conversation years ago.
"That too." She nodded.
"But it doesn't matter." She dropped her head against his shoulder again, "As you once told me, we're inevitable, you and I. Intertwined fates and all that."
"I thought you didn't believe in fate." He reminded, as he posture loosened from the tense pose he'd been stuck in.
"I don't think that I do." She shrugged, "But I believe in you -and that's counts for something, right?"
"More than you know, Bird." He responded.
••• The next morning •••
"Morning."
The greeting was curt, abrupt.
Bird squinted her eyes open to see Nygma pacing at the foot of the bed.
She blinked her sleep heavy eyelids a couple times.
Making sure what she was seeing was real before anger coursed through her.
Why the the hell was he in her room while she was sleeping?
With a noise somewhere between a grunt and a groan, she flung her arms out to either side in an attempt for leverage to sit up -only when she did someone else let out a cry of pain.
"Oswald?" Bird's voice was groggy.
Blinking again she looked around and realized she was still in her best friend's room.
That they must have fell asleep when they were talking the night before.
Oswald sat up, about to demand to know why she'd just slapped him awake but then he caught movement in his eyesight and greeted, "Ed?"
"Oswald." Ed gave a single nod, "I've given some thought to what you told me yesterday. About how I needed to heal. To move on."
Oswald reached up and rubbed his eyes, glanced over at where Bird was sitting beside him and then back to Ed.
The day before he'd had too much of Ed's wallowing and the loud opera music he'd been playing, insisting it had been Isabella's favorite and he'd given his friend a verbal lashing.
Told him he needed to get up and stop laying around. That it was depressing and unhealthy.
He couldn't keep laying around in a dark room by himself.
He'd also casually slipped in how in order to heal, Ed would need to move on from the loss.
His words woke Bird up more and she straightened her back some from the slouch she'd been slumped in.
Maybe Nygma really did feel the same towards Oswald, she'd wondered about it for quite some time but the tall man with an affinity for riddles was awkward and she couldn't get a good read on his emotions -other than he was fond of her best friend.
"Should I go?" Bird offered, already scooting over to the edge of the bed.
"No." Nygma answered at the same time Oswald nearly barked, "Yes!"
Bird hovered in a half-sitting, half-standing position over the bed before sitting back down and avoiding Oswald's scowl at her not leaving them alone.
Nygma clasped his hands and explained, "I need to go to the spot where she was taken from me."
He pushed his glasses back up on his nose with a single finger and then his eyes darted between the pair of best friends; both of whom looked startled.
Oswald stammered, unable to locate the right words.
"Why?" Bird blurted out, worried he might find something that could tie the crash back to Oswald, "What good is going to the scene of the crime-" Her words were cut short by the thrust of an elbow in her ribs.
Nearly doubled over in pain, she squeaked out, "The scene of the accident! What good is that going to do?"
Turning his head away from where he'd been staring at Bird in disbelief, Oswald nodded, "She has a point, Ed."
Moving in and taking a seat on the foot of the bed, Nygma repeated, "I need to heal."
"In the same place that broke your heart?" Bird arched a brow, "How does that make any sense?"
"It doesn't!" Oswald near frantically agreed.
"Isabel would want you to be happy and not dwell on her loss-"
This time it was Oswald who got the point of Bird's elbow lodged in his side.
"Isabella." She corrected, if for no other reason than just to return the show blow he'd dealt when she verbally slipped up.
"Isabella." Oswald strained, "Of course."
Ed stayed sitting where he was, only his eyes moving between them.
He might have only known her for a short time, but he'd spoken enough about the new love of his life for Oswald to know her name.
Without another word to then, Nygma got up and left the room.
Once she was sure he was out of earshot, Bird whispered, "There's nothing there that could lead back to you?"
"Nothing." Oswald answered.
She cocked her head to the side, giving him an expression that silently read he better have crossed all the T's and dotted all the I's.
Loose ends never did anyone any favors.
•••
"Ivy?" Bird said as she spotted the redhead sitting on the steps outside of her townhouse.
"There you are." Ivy grinned ear-to-ear as she enthusiastically hopped up and dusted her long green coat off.
Glancing around them Bird questioned, "How long have you been here?"
"A while." She admitted, her eyes going to where Bird had her keys in hand, "You got any food?"
Tilting her head back and closing her eyes, Bird sighed. She wouldn't call what she was feeling hung over, not exactly, but she sure didn't feel well enough to deal with this today.
"Look, Ivy-" She started.
"Uh-oh." Ivy crossed her arms over her chest, tucking her chin in and already dreading whatever was about to be said next.
Bird was using her serious tone.
"I've had a long night and I really need to talk to Jim, so-"
"He left like an hour ago." Ivy filled her in.
Stepping forward, Bird grabbed onto Ivy's arm and stole a glance at the watch she wearing.
Dropping the younger woman's arm back to her side, Bird cursed under her breath. She'd missed him.
Silly her for thinking maybe he'd take a day off in case she came back home.
"You saw him?" Bird questioned'
She nodded.
"Did he say anything?" She tried to gather more information.
"He asked about you." She shrugged, "If I'd seen you and I said no."
Rolling her eyes she added, "I mean, duh! I came here to see you."
"How did he seem?"
Ivy's face scrunched up, "Distracted. I don't know?" She shrugged again, "Definitely grumpy. Does he have any other moods?"
"Yes, he does." Bird brushed past her and unlocked the door.
She walked inside of her house and left it opened behind her; Ivy wasted no time in catching up. Once she got the door shut behind her she headed straight into the kitchen to raid the cabinets.
"I'm going to take a shower." Bird yelled out, "Remember, if you steal something, I'll know!"
Ivy was leaned over searching the refrigerator for decent left overs when she heard her and couldn't help but roll her eyes.
Bird was her friend, aside from Selina her only other friend -she wouldn't steal from her.
Well, not unless she had a really good reason at least.
By the time Bird had finished showering and gotten ready for the day, Ivy had already finished off some left over Chinese food and pizza from the fridge. She'd also eaten several handfuls of cereal dry; straight from the box.
Then had fixed a bowl with cereal and milk before deciding she didn't want it and got into a package of snack crackers.
Bird slowed to a stop when she caught sight of the mess on the center island of the kitchen.
"You took a really long time to shower." Ivy complained.
"And you made a really big mess." She retorted.
"I was hungry!" Ivy defended.
Crossing the room, Bird sat down at the island and glanced over to the coffee maker; which clearly hadn't been used that day. She wondered why Jim would have been in such hurry to leave that morning -was he trying to get out of there in case she came home?
When she'd went to shower she'd checked the closet and nothing was missing, so he hadn't packed up to leave - at least not yet.
"I got you something!" Ivy squealed as she started slapping her hands down on her coat that she'd carelessly tossed onto the counter to search the pockets.
Bird watched as a fork she'd been eating with fell to the floor with a clatter, but Ivy made not attempt at picking it up.
Then it struck her, that this must have been the same level of irritation Alfred felt when she and Bruce would tear through the kitchen and make a mess -then not bother to clean it up.
"Hold out your arm." She instructed.
"Why?" Bird's tone of voice along with her expression lodged a complaint.
"Just do it." Ivy insisted. "And close your eyes.
Deciding she didn't want to spend the next several minutes arguing with a child, Bird closed her eyes and held out her arm.
She squinted one eye open when she felt Ivy slid something over her hand and onto her wrist.
"Okay!" Ivy announced, "You can look now."
Pulling her arm back, Bird looked down to see the redhead had adorned her wrist with a bracelet. The cording was a dark, yet shiny purple with a braided band design and in the center was an infinity symbol charm that read 'BFF'.
Raising her head, she saw Ivy was proudly displaying a bracelet on her own wrist, identical in every way except the band was green instead of purple.
"Did you make these?" Bird questioned.
Ivy nodded, "I worked on them all night. Do you like it?"
"It's pretty." Bird carefully said.
Ivy's excitement went from ten down to zero in less than a second, "You hate it."
"No, I don't." Bird asserted, "It's sweet. I just have a lot on my mind is all."
"Like what?"
"Just stuff." She answered, "For so long Jim and I were on the same page about things and now that he's back at GCPD, I feel like it's all falling apart."
She couldn't stop the bitter taste from rising up when she added, "After he explicitly assured me it wouldn't change anything between us."
"I could help." Ivy offered.
"Yeah?" She laughed and thought of when Bruce would always try to get her to tell him her problems insisting he might be able to help. Laughable at the time considering what she was going through was far outside his area of expertise.
"I'm serious." Ivy leaned over the counter some to move in closer as if she had a secret to share, "We can make him quit the GCPD."
When Bird gave her a disbelieving look and appeared to be on the verge of laughing, Ivy went back to her coat and retrieved a small vial.
"I made this from a strain of cananga odorata." Ivy displayed the vial of liquid in her palm, "A little sniff of this and I can make guys do anything I tell them to."
"Wait." Bird wasn't laughing anymore, "Are you serious?"
"I've always been good with plants." She reminded her, "We could get Jim to do whatever you want."
"Tempting -but no thanks." Bird shut that down before she let herself think too long on it.
"Why not?" Ivy asked.
Bird watched her, realizing this was what she'd been using to get all the rich men of Gotham to give her expensive gifts.
That had been what she was talking about when she'd smugly told Selina she had her ways of getting what she wanted.
"Because I don't want to change him." Bird said, "Plus, when it wears off he'd be pissed."
Ivy laughed. She didn't understand fully.
If you could get what you wanted then why not go for it?
Probably love, she guessed, it sounded so complicated.
"Thank you." Bird said, "For the offer and the bracelet."
Ivy slipped the bottle back into her coat pocket and started to pull her coat on. Keeping her eyes cast down towards the floor with her every movement.
She didn't understand why Bird wouldn't take her help.
Rejection stings; no matter the form.
"No one has ever made me anything like this before." Bird admitted, looking down to her wrist at the bracelet, "Thank you."
"You'll never take it off?" Ivy asked hopeful, "I'll never take mine off."
"I won't take it off." She promised; earning a wide smile from Ivy.
•••
It was a while later that Bird was making her way towards the police station with a drink carrier in hand holding two drinks.
Two coffees. One iced and one hot.
It was the perfect excuse to go see Jim.
She saw no coffee had been made at the house and knew for a fact the GCPD coffee was terrible.
After spending over a day avoiding him, she'd come to terms with the fact that he was right; they did need to talk.
She'd also realized running off on him probably wasn't the best idea, after all, if he really wanted to call it quits between them her not being there wouldn't stop that.
But the more she'd given thought to it in the shower that morning the more she'd considered she'd possibly jumped to the wrong conclusion.
She'd just assumed needing to talk would be a bad thing; the nuclear option. That he was going to break up with her.
Born with a mind that was always set on a course to worse case scenarios was one of her curses.
In reality, the fight hadn't been that bad. I
t was more stupid than anything and they were both exhausted.
Maybe he'd mean they actually needed to talk when their minds were clear and they could communicate more openly. Dig themselves out of the whole they kept making deeper.
It had also since dawned on her that maybe what he'd been so upset about was feeling like she wasn't taking their relationship as seriously as he was.
One of his ongoing complaints towards her was how she didn't take anything seriously enough.
That couldn't be further from the truth. At least when it came to them, she took what they had very seriously. Now she just had to make him see that.
She wasn't entirely sure where to begin with that; aside from asking him to take the rest of the day off so they could sort things out.
After all, the problem wasn't all on her end. She didn't get to see nearly enough of him now that he was back to work.
He could give her one afternoon.
"Miss Wayne."
Shaken from her thoughts, Bird looked over to see Captain Barnes standing at the back of his parked car.
"Captain Barnes." She greeted back. Forcing a smile and planning to keep walking past him across the street and over to the station.
"Usually we have to drag the scum in here kicking and screaming; not very often they walk right in."
She came to a stop.
What the hell was wrong with him?
"Excuse me?" She turned back around to face him and walked closer.
He looked her over.
It was sickening how someone so guilty could be allowed to walk around like a law abiding citizen.
So free. She deserved to live out her years in a cage at the very best.
"Do we have a problem?" Bird questioned.
She'd noticed him being rude to Don Falcone at the engagement party a few days ago, but had brushed it off.
Calling out to her on the street like this was something she hadn't expected at all.
"My apologies." His tone sharp, "You must not be used to people seeing under that human mask you wear. Seeing how ugly and guilty you are underneath it."
She wished she had a good comeback. Something to say that would knock him down a few feet; but she was more shocked than anything.
His eyes squinted at her.
Guilty
Guilty
Guilty
The word echoed around in his head as he stared at her.
Watched the the flesh melt away from her face to reveal the vile creature underneath.
Shadowed and wicked.
Guilty
The hair on the back of Bird's neck pricked up.
Nathaniel Barnes had never scared her.
Not a single time in all of their past dealings.
But something was wrong.
Something was off and she became overly aware they were the only ones out on the side street.
She'd been in enough cat and mouse games to know what it felt like to be both the hunter and the prey.
Taking a step back, her eyes darted back over towards the side entrance to the GCPD building.
The glance she took to gauge her chances of getting inside was quick, almost subtle. But not quite inconspicuous enough.
He'd taken a step closer to make up for the distance she'd put between them.
"Something wrong?" He asked.
"No." Her throat felt tight. Closed off. "Jim's expecting me, so I should probably get in there."
She nodded towards the building, but didn't dare take her eyes of him.
Liar
The word burned in his mind. He knew for a fact Jim didn't know she was there.
His top detective had been distracted the prior day and he'd overheard Jim telling Bullock he wasn't sure where Bird was.
She took a step closer to the building, but he intercepted.
He couldn't let her go inside. Too risky.
He'd been formulating a plan to clean up the city. Rid it of it's infection.
There was much work to still be done and he intended on getting Jim's help with that.
His hand seized her arm and he jerked her back towards the car.
The drink carrier in her hand fell to the ground. Coffee swirled in a mess on the pavement.
"You're out of your mind!" She hissed followed by a screech of pain when he slammed her back against the car to keep her from slipping away.
"No." He growled, "For the first time in my life, I'm seeing things clearly. I see you and how guilty you are."
Her heart thundered.
He was too strong and had her pinned.
"All these years of putting my trust in the system. The same system that let you and Penguin back out on the streets." He continued, "Do you know the amount of restraint it took to hold myself back from taking justice into my own hands?"
Bird squirmed trying to get free. Her purse slid from her shoulder and down her arm and onto the ground next to where her feet were frantically kicking for footing and leverage to escape.
"No, you wouldn't. Because you don't know what self restraint is. You lie and you steal. You're a murderer. A criminal. Guilty!" His voice barely sounded human any longer.
Bird flailed, her balled up fists making a few spots of contact against his broad chest but he didn't even feel the impacts.
"Get off me!" She shrieked.
"But now I am the law. I am judge, jury and executioner and you are guilty!" His voice roared out, his hand clasping around her throat and she didn't stand a chance.
Several seconds passed, which felt like agonizing hours to her, until she went limp.
Barnes looked down, Bird's feet were hovering a good few inches from the ground.
He'd lifted her up with one single hand.
And just like when he'd threw Dr. Maxwell Symon through a wall -they were light as feathers in his grip.
He took a step back, let go and watched her body crumple to the ground like a discarded piece of waste.
Looking around to make sure they were still alone, he straightened out his suit and felt his pockets for the keys to his car.
"Damn it." He muttered, he must have left them inside on his desk.
Opening up the unlocked door he pulled the lever to pop the trunk, picked Bird up and dropped her inside the small space next to where he'd been keeping a shotgun.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw her purse on the ground and knew he couldn't leave that evidence behind.
He tossed the bag in and slammed the trunk shut.
Barnes walked back into the building with one goal in mind; get his keys and deal with her at a secondary location.
Seemed like an easy enough plan, that was until he opened the door of his office to a startled Jim Gordon, who'd been searching the files atop his desk.
"Can I help you?" Barnes asked.
"Captain." Jim greeted back. It took a good second or more for him to calm down enough to sell the lie, "I was just looking for the Paulie Pennies file. I was thinking the cases might be related and-"
Jim's voice trailed off as Barnes walked closer and picked up the case file from a standing organizer on his desk.
Without a word he handed it over.
"Thanks." Jim half-smiled and started for the door.
"Fill me in." Barnes physically blocked the way of his escape.
"Nothing solid yet, but we'll get there." He tried to act casual and dismissive of it; enough that Barnes wouldn't push further.
"Uh-huh." Barnes gave him a hard stare, "Well, I was looking over the witness statements and the first people on the scene say Symon was still alive when you got to him. He say anything to you?"
It was a fishing expedition and a long shot, but he had a feeling maybe the surgeon had given up his name before he passed.
Jim had been acting strange towards him yesterday.
He'd witnessed a few hush-hush conversations between Jim and Bullock, but hadn't been stealthy enough to over hear.
"No…" Jim shook his head.
"So, he didn't ID the killer?" Barnes asked.
"No." Jim stuck to his one word answer.
"Hmm." Barnes hummed in disbelief, "Cause I've got a few people who said you were talking to him."
"He tried… sure." Jim glanced out the windows of the office to the rest of the police station hoping to catch sight of his partner, "But he couldn't speak. He died right away."
Barnes didn't miss Jim's visual scan of the station.
Maybe Bird had been telling the truth and he was expecting to see her.
"How's Bird?"
Barnes questioned.
"Uh…" Jim breathed thrown off the question, "Fine."
"I only ask because I overheard you talking to Bullock yesterday -something about you couldn't reach her?" He pressed.
Jim's face lost a few shades of color.
He had mentioned that to his partner the day before -along with voicing his suspicions that Barnes was the one who killed Symon.
Exactly how much had his boss overheard the day before?
"You weren't expecting her to drop by today?" He continued to interrogate him.
"No." Jim resorted back to one word answers.
His eyes cut back over to the rest of the station. Did Barnes know something he didn't?
Feeling Jim's behavior was more questionable than not, Barnes knew he'd need to get Jim away from the station too.
Picking his keys up off the desk, Barnes lied, "I put in a call to a C.I. with deep ties to the mob. Says that once I collard Symon the higher ups got jumpy."
"You're saying the mob had him killed?" Jim was surprised.
The manor in which he'd been killed wasn't exactly a mafia style hit.
"He was giving these guys new faces. Probably the only one who could I.D. them. That's a lot to protect. They probably got jumpy. Nervous." Barnes continued the lie.
Explained how the informant had even given him a name. A mid-level enforcer who goes by Sugar and works out of the east end.
Jim offered to send a team to pick Sugar up and bring him in for questioning but Barnes insisted they go and handle this on their own.
Citing his reason as the mob still having their fingers in most of the guys' pockets and they needed to be careful about who they trusted.
"So-" Barnes began, "You ready to ride with the old man?"
"Sure." Jim feigned a smile, "Just let me run it by my partner."
"Why bother him?" Barnes questioned, as he laid a firm hand on Jim's arm, "We'll be there and back before you know it."
"So where are we headed?" Jim questioned as they left the building and Barnes pointed on the direction of his car.
"Sugar works out of an old foundry at 133rd and 6th." Barnes answered.
Feeling a crack under his feet, Jim looked down to see he'd walked over the debris of spilled coffee. The ice had crushed under his steps.
It made him think of Bird, she'd been on an iced coffee kick for months on end.
He'd always wrinkle his nose at it; remark how coffee was supposed to be enjoyed hot and she'd hit back with calling him old fashioned.
"That's reminds me." Barnes waved a hand letting Jim know to go ahead and get in the car.
One he was inside, he heard his boss messing with something in the trunk and he called Bullock, almost immediately the call went to voicemail.
He left a message with the address they were headed to.
Barnes stared down at Bird when he opened the trunk. She was laying motionless, her hair strewn across her face.
The blood on her skin from where her body had violently hit the pavement looked ruby red.
He reached out two fingers and pressed them to the side of her neck.
She was alive. For as lifeless as she looked her pulse was steady.
Cockroaches, he thought to himself. It's always the worst ones who ended up being the hardest to kill.
Currently, he felt like Bird and Penguin topped that list.
Jerking the gun out of the trunk, he slammed it shut again and went to get in the car.
When Jim questioned the weapon, Barnes shrugged, "You never know what's going to go down."
They drove for several minutes in silence -and not the comfortable kind either.
"I have to say Jim." Barnes finally said, "I'm disappointed with you."
"Oh, yeah?" Jim side-eyed him, "How's that?"
"Lead detective for a high profile murder and you don't collect statements from everyone present?" Barnes continued.
When Jim shot him a confused look, Barnes was paying more attention to him than he was the road, "Me, Jim." He stated, "You never questioned me, but we can do that now. And for the record I wave my right to council."
"Captain-" Jim started to point out the ridiculousness of that, but his boss insisted.
So Jim followed orders and asked his questions. All the usual suspects. If he'd seen the victim or knew who could have followed Symon into the bathroom. If Barnes had been in that bathroom at all.
Barnes said that he had been in there; but it was obviously before the murder took place.
"I noticed there was someone else there you didn't get a statement from." Barnes said., barely giving him time to consider who he could be referring to as he filled in the blank, "Starling Wayne."
"Oh." Jim's brows furrowed again, "I didn't need to, she was with me."
"The whole time?" Barnes pushed.
"During the time the murder took place, yeah." He insisted.
"But you did question her about it, right?" Barnes kept pushing, "Even if it was when you were alone?"
"You think she threw a man through a brick wall?" Jim pointed out how ludicrous it sounded.
It was crazy that any one person had enough strength to do that.
Barnes laughed, "Maybe not directly, but if we're talking about the mob, she's about as connected as they come-"
"She wasn't involved in this." Jim insisted.
It wasn't her style.
He didn't say it out loud, of course, but he knew if Bird was going after someone she wouldn't be that sloppy.
Wouldn't risk taking the shot at a crowded party.
"You sound awfully sure of that." Barnes held back another laugh.
"I am." Jim defended.
"You trust her?"
"She had my back when no one else did." He answered, indirectly pointing out that during the darkest time of his life, enough though Barnes said he'd considered Jim like a son -he'd turned his back on him.
"Right." Barnes nodded, "You know she used those mob connections to help you, Jim."
"I trust her." He loudly said, biting back the anger starting to build, "And I already said she had nothing to do with this."
"Alright." Barnes accepted, "I was only pointing out you can't be too careful these days. I mean look around, Gordon. This city is a cesspool. Don't you ever want to do something about it?"
"I thought I was." He all but grumbled.
"What? As a cop?" Barnes looked back over at him, "I would have thought you of all people would find that limiting."
Jim said he didn't, at least not anymore. That he'd spent too long living outside of the law.
"I came back to the GCPD to do things right." Glancing back over at his boss he added, "Like you."
"Like me?"
"Last year at Galavan's, when we were attacked… you told me the law shows you where the line is. It stuck with me." Jim reasoned.
"Some would say our job, first and foremost is to protect the citizens of this city. Even if it means bending the laws." Barnes shared his new out look.
"No. If we break the law then we're not better than the criminals-"
"Ha!" Barnes exclaimed, "Is that what you were thinking the night Galavan was killed."
With a knowing expression he clarified, "The first time."
Jim swallowed hard.
No, he hadn't been thinking that when he'd killed Galavan.
He'd thought he was making the right decision for everyone. That the only way to keep the city safe was to eliminate the threat.
The last thing he'd seen in his mind before he pulled the trigger to end Galavan's life had been the night everyone thought Bird had been killed.
Her body on the ground. Blood spilling from the corners of her mouth.
He'd never let himself admit it out loud, but revenge had played a part in his decision to kill Galavan.
Along with the guilt he'd felt for protecting Theo Galavan while Bird had been shot.
"This city is at a crossroads, Gordon." Barnes' interrupted Jim's train of thought, "The question is: will good men fight for it? Will they do what's necessary?"
Suddenly becoming more aware of his surroundings, Jim shifted in the seat, "Captain, we missed our stop. 133rd and 6th?"
"Did I say that?" Barnes played innocent, as if he hadn't intentionally mislead him, "136th and 3rd."
Jim nodded but grew more uncomfortable by the second. He highly doubted it was the honest mistake his boss was trying to make it out to be.
•••
The moment she started to come to, Bird's breathing grew shallow. Her chest rising and falling rapidly but unable to pull much air in.
Her head was throbbing, her throat so sore that trying to yell brought tears to her eyes.
Eyes that for the moment she couldn't see much out of. There was something wet on her face and with the tinge of copper on her tongue she knew it had to be blood.
Panic. Sheer terror.
She had no idea where she was.
Closing her eyes she tried to force herself to remember.
Barnes.
Her hand shot up to her throat at the memory.
Barnes had attacked her.
Opening her eyes back up she frantically wiped at her face trying to swat the blood away.
She was in a confined space.
She couldn't stretch out.
She could feel a rough carpet texture under her hands when she felt around under her and metal above her.
A trunk; she realized.
Further struggling to get her bearings, she turned around the best she could and felt around hoping she'd ended up int he trunk of a car where she could just push the back seat down and climb out.
After a struggle she determined she had no such luck on that wish.
She tried, but couldn't get her voice to work. Every time she tried her throat burned and she could only cough.
Screaming for help would pointless, she decided.
A waste of energy, she had no idea where she even was.
Aside from knowing the car wasn't moving she knew nothing else of her surroundings.
Putting all of her strength into it, she started trying to bust out of the trunk. To use enough force to break free.
Bird angled her body the best she could to try for escape, using her legs to kick with all of her might towards the center of where the trunk would close. She knew her best shot was getting the latch to open.
"Is someone in there?"
An unfamiliar voice called out.
"Yes!" She tried to shout but still couldn't find her voice.
She continued to make as much noise as she could by hitting her fists against the interior of the trunk.
"Oh my god! Call the police."
It was just moments later the trunk latch released and she was momentarily blinded by the sunlight, until her sight settled on a man standing by the car with a crowbar in his hand.
His face was ghostly pale.
Peeking around his shoulder was a terrified woman; Bird guessed his wife.
Whoever they were, she was happy to see them.
"Oh, my god! She's bleeding. She's been kidnapped or something. I- I don't know. Oh my god!" The woman was screaming into the phone, more than likely deafening the 911 operator she was speaking with.
Still seeming stunned and unsure of what to say, the man who'd pried the trunk open wordlessly helped Bird out to her feet.
Still trying to get her bearings, she felt her pockets trying to find her phone but it wasn't anywhere. Looking back into the prison she'd been in, she spotted her purse.
If only she'd known that was in there to being with,
The first thing she searched for was the bottle of water she usually carried with her; which she promptly emptied.
Water spilling from both corners of her mouth and soaking into shirt.
A few other passersby had stopped to watch the scene playing out.
But Bird paid them no mind, instead she grabbed her phone from her purse and tried to call Jim, but it went straight to voicemail.
Then she tried Bullock.
"Yeah?" His voice was rushed; call answered on the first ring.
"Barnes-" Bird's voice was hoarse and speaking was incredibly painful but she pushed through, "Barnes attacked me. Is Jim with you?"
"Barnes has him." Bullock's words were scrambled.
She could hear the sirens from the car. He was on the move.
"Listen." He continued, "He's infected. The tech virus. Where are you?"
"Barnes?" Bird coughed, "Alice's blood?"
"Yeah." Bullock answered, "Are you anywhere near 133rd and 6th?"
"I…" She stammered spinning in a circle and trying to figure out where she was.
A gunshot rang out nearby in the distance and most of the people who'd gathered to see what was going on at the car scattered in all directions.
The only ones who stayed were the same couple who'd helped her break free from the trunk.
Good samaritans, she shook her head, trying to do the right thing even if it costs them their own lives,
"Here." She strained, shoving her phone into the man's hand, "Take this, tell him where we are and get somewhere safe."
"But you-" He tried to argue.
"You're bleeding!" The woman yelled.
"Go." Bird yelled out the best she could.
She could hear the echo of Bullock's voice coming from the small speaker on the phone. It was impossible to make out exactly what he was saying but she had a feeling he was trying to warn her against going after Barnes.
As if anything he could say would stop her now that he'd told her Barnes had Jim.
Her eyes went back to the trunk in search of a weapon though she wasn't sure why she'd have any luck with that when nothing else seemed to be going her way so far.
Sending up a silent prayer to a higher power she wasn't convinced even existed, Bird pulled the wooden box from her purse containing the gun Oswald have given her as a present.
She'd been toting it around for the last few days with the intentions of getting it appraised for insurance reasons.
Flipping the lid open she pulled the revolver from it's placement in the purple satin liner and then lifted it up to reveal the bottom of the box contained a section for holding the ammunition; which her best friend had thoughtfully stocked before presenting the present to her.
Grabbing up a small handful of bullets, she started in the direction the shots were coming from.
Moving as quickly as she could while loading the rounds into the revolver's chamber.
•••
The world had slowed down.
Time moving at a snails pace.
Jim's eyes were locked on his boss who still armed with the shotgun he'd used to kill the criminal who went by the name of Sugar just minutes before.
"I know what you're thinking, Jim." Barnes sympathized at seeing his lead detective rendered speechless, "You're thinking: why would Captain Nathaniel Barnes, Mr. By-The-Book, blow a hole in the chest of this unarmed scumbag? Could it be that he actually killed Symon too?"
Jim looked around, he'd been cornered at the end of one of the old foundry warehouses with no way out.
Barnes had already taken more than one shot at him when he'd ran earlier, thankfully he'd missed but now the outlook seemed bleaker by the second.
He'd managed to call Bullock a little while earlier when he'd first gotten away from Barnes and hid next to a crumbling building. Explained what was happening and tried to get the address to where they were passed along to his partner but he'd been found to soon.
The phone had been dropped mid call and then destroyed when Barnes found it.
He had no idea how long it would take Bullock to get there.
"You're infected." Jim tried to reason with him. It seemed like the only option he had left now. Try to reach the human part of him -if it still existed, "Don't you see? This means you're innocent and we -we can get you help."
"Let's just skip the part where you try to get me to give myself up."
"This isn't you. This is the virus-"
"No!" Barnes yelled, "I'm not insane and you're not seeing the bigger picture. We're dealing in absolutes. Innocence and guilt. Gotham… the people of this city need men like me. Men who can see what needs to be done and do it!"
Taking a step closer the continued to try and sell the image he had for a better Gotham.
"You have it within you to be one of those men."
Jim's face twisted up in disbelief.
At first he thought his boss had taken him all the way out to the foundry to kill him, but this was something else. Barnes was trying recruit him.
"You want me to join you? Be a part of this?" Jim couldn't hide the shock or the disgust of seeing a man he'd greatly admired fall so far.
"Oh, don't be so high and mighty. You shot Galavan in cold blood." Barnes yelled.
"And every day I wish I hadn't!" Jim's voice raised higher than his captains, "I thought I didn't have a choice, but I did. I lost everything because of the choice I made that night. I lost my freedom."
"I never said it would be easy, Jim." Barnes smiled, "I said it was right! Day after day, all these criminals thumbing their nose at the law. But not today. Today I'm drawing a line, putting a stop to it. The only question left to answer now is where do you stand?"
Jim's eyes fell to the shotgun again.
"Against you."
"It's a shame really. We could have made a great team." Barnes' face showed something resembling disappointment.
Almost remorse.
Almost a human expression.
The sirens in the distance were drawing closer but didn't sound close enough to get there in time to make a difference in the outcome.
He'd been disarmed in the fight with his captain earlier.
Jim tied to pull in a breath, knowing it might be his last but the air had nowhere to go.
Like his lungs had hardened to steel.
The end of the line, so it seemed, though he would've never in a million years would he have guessed this would be how it happened.
Barnes took a step forward, adjusting the his grip on the gun and pointing it at his detective.
If Jim wasn't going to be a part of the solution that meant he was part of the problem; which made him just as guilty as the criminals.
There was a loud noise. A gunshot.
The sound echoed and intensified in the empty building and Jim's head jerked to the side from the pressure the noise put on his ears.
It wasn't a shotgun blast he'd heard.
No, the noise came from a smaller weapon.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Barnes on the ground, the shot gun lying inches away from him.
"My arm!" Barnes voice was somewhere between a growl and the howl of a wounded animal.
He threw his arm out, trying to grab the gun he'd dropped on his way down, but Bird fired another shot -this one right through his hand.
With her gun still trained on the fallen GCPD Captain, Bird kicked the shotgun Barnes had been reaching for over to Jim, where it landed next to his feet.
Jim somehow manged to pull his eyes away from Bird and gazed down to the weapon, he quickly picked it up, aimed at Barnes just in case he tried anything else.
It seemed his body was running on autopilot.
Physically he'd reacted much sooner to what was happening then he'd been able to mentally.
His eyes scanned over Bird.
She didn't look good, there was blood on hr face -the skin on her neck was one giant bruise at this point and she seemed a little unsteady on her feet. Swaying light a branch in the breeze.
"What happened?" Jim was finally able to speak, "How… Where? Where did you come from?"
"The trunk." Bird answered.
Her strained voice barely audible over the sirens that were now right outside and the sounds GCPD as they arrived on the scene.
•••
A/N - I can't believe Gotham is officially over. I'm still a mess, yo.
I do plan on taking Bird's story all the way to the end of season 5; so even though Gotham is no longer airing, I hope you'll all keep reading.
I want to give a shout out to: xenocanaan, Shadow knight1121, ThatMysteriousSlime, AGBreads, runawaycherry93, HarleyIsQueenx, Love Fiction. 2019, Adela, SmellYourScentForMiles, Havana, xxXWolfsLullabyXxx, Katniss789, DancingDorisDay, Rasiel Hasu and the Guests who reviewed since my last update. Thank you so much!
I really hope everyone enjoyed the chapter (and the fact it didn't take me months to update this time, haha) and I can't wait to hear what you all thought of the chapter!
Also, I'm not sure how many long time readers I have that have been with me since We Were Born Sick, but those of you who have -did you get as nostalgic for season 1 Bird and Oswald?
I wasn't expecting it to get me as badly as it did; but when I was writing those scenes between them, I started missing the way they were with one another in the beginning!