XVI - Dear Sister

"And so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

•••

Sitting in the open doorway of the back of an ambulance, Bird stared out across broken up paved parking lot of the old foundry.

It had been at least thirty minutes since they'd hauled a heavily sedated Captain Barnes away from the scene for medical attention, but the area around the crime scene was still draped in chaos.

It looked like every officer in the city was there. Some were taking statements from the bystanders who'd witnessed part of what had happened, but it seemed like the majority of them were standing in groups talking amongst themselves.

Her sight on focused Jim, who she spotted across the lot speaking with some of the higher ranking detectives on scene. He was badly roughed up, himself.

There were barely a few minutes time between when Bird had brought Barnes down to when GCPD arrived.
Everything was so hectic and crowded that she hadn't gotten much of a chance to talk to Jim at all.

It had mostly been a blur, she vaguely remembered Jim trying to talk to her, the warmth of his arms through her clothes as he held onto her while leading her over to an ambulance, insisting she at least let the paramedics check her out since she'd refused to go to the hospital.

Once she'd sat down on the metal ledge of the emergency vehicle, Jim had said something to her that her ears couldn't decipher above all the other voices and noise around them.

He'd kissed her on the forehead and that was the first time she'd gotten a real look at him.
She remembered thinking he needed to be checked out too, but couldn't remember if she'd voiced her concern out loud.

There was too much noise in her head; disabling her ability to think straight and rendering her mute.

She'd done some bad things in her life; top of that list would be taking other lives.

She had killed people and aside from the times of self-defense and when she'd been forced to work under Falcone alongside Victor Zsasz, she'd been able to excuse the violence by telling herself the world was better off without certain people in it.

And this was far from the first time someone had tried to kill her; but this was the first time she was aware of that someone wanted her dead because they believed the world would be a better place without her in it.

Sure, Barnes was infected with the Tetch virus, but when Jervis had gotten inside Jim's head he'd amplified what was already in there.

What if the blood did the same? Just brought everything to the surface.

If so, then that meant every exchange she'd had with Nathaniel Barnes -both polite and otherwise, he'd been sitting there thinking her very presence lessened the lives of those around her.

"How you holding up?"

Bird didn't look up to where Bullock was now standing beside her, leaning against the ambulance and waiting on an answer.

She just kept staring across the way to where Jim was; wondering if he was okay.
She also wasn't sure if he was still mad at her for taking off again or where they even stood with their relationship after the way they'd left things the night before she'd fled.

"Bird?" Bullock's voice raised.

When she still didn't even acknowledge his presence, he took his hat off and rubbed a hand over his head, "We doing the silence thing again?"

The words came out with an unintended sigh, he knew everyone processed trauma differently and he'd been around Bird enough in the aftermath of it see how much she'd shut down.
To the point of not saying a single word.

But he also wasn't sure how much, if any, of her acting that way was put on.
After all, it wasn't like this was the first time someone had tried to kill her.

"What are they going to do with Barnes?"
She asked, seeming to wait the exact amount of time to stop him just as he'd started to walk away.

"Arkham." He answered, "There was some talk on how he might lose his hand."

She didn't respond.

"How are you holding up?" He repeated his earlier question.

"I've been better, Bullock." Her voice was dry; sounded as painful as her throat felt.

He readjusted his stance and pulled in a deep breath.

She was an expert at getting on his nerves, always had been -but he could take the shots she'd diss out and fire them right back.
He always knew what to say or how to react then.

This was something different.
Those times when she seemed to be in such turmoil that it radiated off of her and thickened the air; those where the times when he didn't know what to do, or what to say.

Now he was the one staring over to where Jim was.

"You know-" He carefully said, "There's one thing I don't get it. Why didn't you kill him?"

For the first time in several minutes, Bird moved, turned her head and looked up to where he was standing.

Feeling like he needed to further explain, he added, "I mean, you hated the guy and it's not like-"

"I didn't hate Barnes." Bird stated, "I just didn't like him very much, but not enough to hate him."

"Killing him wasn't necessary." Bird continued, feeling a heat rising to both of her cheeks, "Is that what you think of me? That I… what? Just go around murdering people that I don't much care for?"

"No…"
His answer didn't sound confident.

Not because that's really what he thought of her but more so by the look on her face; she looked offended, hurt even.

And she was.
She and Bullock had never been what she'd call friends, usually only brought together for Jim's sake, but what he'd said had stung.

It was like he didn't know her all.

"Look, I wasn't trying to…" His expression softened some, "I didn't mean to upset you-"

"Please." He voice was still scratchy from the damage inflicted on her throat earlier in the day but her tone was clean, callous, "As if you could hurt me."

"Fair enough." He breathed, looking around them before revealing his main intention for coming over there, "I need to see the gun you shot the Cap with."

"Why?"

"'Cause I do."

Bird shrugged off the blanket one of the medical staff had draped over her shoulders and reached over to where her purse was.
It had been returned to her after her belongings were recovered from the trunk she'd been locked in.

She'd already nestled the weapon back in it's satin wrought display.

When she opened the box to show the revolver, he stared at it in disbelief.
He'd never seen anything like it before, the gold detailing and diamonds glittered even in the shadows they were casting over it.

"We're going to need to take that in for evidence-"
He'd started to say but she cut him off.

"No!"

He almost took a step back from the unexpected outburst.
Her throat must be feeling better, he thought.

"It's just temporary-"

She didn't care how long they expected the hold would be, she wasn't parting with the present Oswald had given her.

"Come on." Bullock audibly sighed, "It's not like those stones are real, right?"

There was absolutely no way the jewels on that gun were real, for that matter the gold plating couldn't be either.
It just couldn't.

"Of course it's real." Bird scoffed, rising to her feet, "24 carat gold and yes -the diamonds are very real."

"That!" He took a step back, pointing with his index finger wildly at the gun she was still holding in it's box, "That is what you rich people spend your money on?"

Jim who'd joined up with them when he'd heard Bird's distressed argument from across the parking lot, looked dumbstruck at the sight of the gun.
Truth be told he'd hadn't paid much attention to the weapon she'd used to bring Barnes' down at the time.

"It was a gift!" She cleared her throat, cringing from the pain.

"From who?"
This time it was Jim that spoke.

"Oswald." Her voice lowered but it was still painful to speak, "I had it with me to get it appraised."

Not giving either of them a chance to speak she directed her anger at Bullock, "I don't like cops. I don't trust them and I know your evidence lockers aren't secure -I know because I've broken into them myself on several occasions."

"We are cops!" Bullock lost his hold on his own temper, "Why are you always openly confessing to this stuff? You can't tell us things that that!"

She glared at him.

"Bird-"
Jim began, but she wasn't interested in hearing him talk either.

Always trying to be the voice of reason he'd probably side with his partner on this.

Bird took a step back, the back of her legs bumping against where she'd been sitting on the ambulance and nearly taking her down, but she remained standing.

She shut the box, locked it clasp and held it tightly against her chest.

"There's already been one attempt on my life today and you both saw how well that worked out for your boss." She flatly stated and even though she was talking to them both, she squared up against Bullock like she was ready to fight him, "I wouldn't suggest getting on my bad side today-"

"Bad side?" Bullock repeated back, mirroring her hostility and not backing down an inch,"You're saying there's anything else when it comes to you?"

"Okay, hey, hey, hey." Jim first wedged an arm between them then his body, forcing more space between them.

He had no idea what had been said before he'd gotten over to them but it couldn't have been anything good.
They'd been on amicable, one might even say friendly terms for months on end until now.

"We don't really need the weapon-" Jim started to try and calm her down.

"Jim-"

"Harvey." He shot his partner a look over his shoulder.

•••

It was early the next morning that Jim made his way into the kitchen; he'd completely given up on sleep now.

For the last few hours every single time he got laid back down in bed the door bell would ring and he'd get back up to answer it so that Bird wouldn't have too.

She was in bad shape and not just physically either.
Though he wasn't sure exactly what was going on in her head since she'd barely spoken ten words to him since the night before.

Now that morning news had broken about Captain Barnes being infected with the blood-borne Tetch Virus; and even though he'd tried to kill one of his lead detectives the main focus of the news was how he'd tried to kill Bird.

The headlines fueled by pictures of her emerging from the trunk she'd been locked in taken by the bystanders at the scene who'd been more concerned with catching things on film than helping at all.

Now everyone was sending flowers and gift baskets to the house; hence the door bell going off repeatedly.

Walking into the kitchen, Jim rubbed his hands over his face, focusing mostly on his tired eyes and then his jaw, which was still sore from the impact of the blow his boss dealt him; which had split his lip open too.

The door bell rang again and he let out a sigh, swearing under his breath as he went to answer it for, sure enough, another delivery person.

This time it was a beautifully wrapped up basket of assorted teas, which he carried back to the kitchen and sat it down next to the overstuffed fruit basket that arrived about thirty minutes prior. He was about to start on the coffee when the handwriting on the card caught his eye.

He recognized it; it was Barbara's writing.

Plucking the card up he read in the fancy script:
'Hey, B.
Heard the news. Sorry you were nearly killed.
Your neck looked awful in the pictures.
Hope the tea helps your throat.
xx B

S - I know you've been ignoring my phone calls.'

Jim looked back at the assortment of fine tears, glanced at the card again and then promptly dropped the entire thing in the top of the waste basket.

Barbara hadn't gone after Bird the way she had with Lee when they were together, but he wouldn't put it past her to try something now. Like a poisoned drink.

When he turned back around he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of someone else in the room with him.

It was only Bird, but he'd had no idea she'd been there.
He swore he'd never get used to how silently she could move around.

"Hey." He greeted, concern already apparent on his face, "Sorry about the door…" He helplessly gestured to the array of gifts in the room.
Then hoping the outreach of support might brighten her spirits his mouth stretched into a smile even though it threatened to break the scab on his lip open, "The papers detailed what happened with Barnes and it looks like a lot of people are thinking of you."

"Yeah." Bird's voice was flat, "Sorry the GCPD Captain tried to pop your head like a pimple -here's a fruit basket."

Jim's head cocked to the side. Unsure what to say to her; so instead he watched in silence as she picked up the card from the fruit basket and let out a sigh.
It was from a couple her parents used to be friends with. She knew the names but couldn't quite pin their faces down in her mind.

His eyes kept falling to her neck, how badly bruised her skin was.
She was lucky to be alive.
All he could think about was the body they'd found that had been ripped apart. The victims head torn right from his body -and how easily Barnes could have done the same to Bird.

"Why'd you throw that away?" She questioned waking over to the trashcan and picking the tea basket back out.

"Barbara." Jim let out a sigh.
The name should be enough of an explanation he thought, but to his dismay Bird laid one of the bags of tea out on the counter, read the card she'd sent and then started to fill the kettle.

"What are you doing?" He shut the faucet off, "Barbara -as in Barbara Kean. Do I really have to remind you of her history for targeting my-"

"She might try to kill me one day." Bird agreed, turning the water back on to finish filling the kettle, "But not today, Jim. Today she's being a friend."

"A friend?"
He repeated back.

He didn't understand why she'd even keep in touch with Barbara after all she'd done.
And years ago Bird wouldn't have, but she'd learned just how important keeping connections alive were.

Something she'd learned while working under Falcone; how people are an asset.
Even the ones who might have wronged you at some point.

Almost as if she could read his mind, she pointed out, "She's the one who warned me about Jervis Tetch that day. Her call bought be enough time to start on a plan; to let Victor know what was going on and that he'd need to find me."

"Okay…" He blew out a breath, "But, Bird -you can't trust her. She'll strike when you're weak and-"

"Do I look weak to you?"

The question stopped him in his tracks.
It was like his brain was only sending down the wrong words for his mouth to speak that morning.

"No and that's not what I meant." He promised.

"Poison isn't her style, anyways." She sighed under her breath, before questioning, "Aren't you going to be late for work?"

"I'm not going in today, not after what happened yesterday."
The manner in which he spoke made it sound like it was a no-brainer; that she should have known he'd planned on staying with her for the day.

But how was she supposed to know that when his return the GCPD had seemed to throw her world and their relationship off center and the job always seemed to come first.

She bit down on the side of her tongue, not wanting to start an argument so early in the morning.
So instead she placed the kettle on the range and turned the stove on.

Jim stood in place, watching Bird -well more so her back as she stood at the stove waiting for water to boil.

The silence in the room was heavy; an unwelcome house guest taking up far too much space.

"Unless you want me to go?"
His words sounded unsure.

He didn't want to leave. In truth the more time that passed the more he grew worried about her; but he was at a loss.

Couldn't seem to say or do the right thing to help anyone -even himself.

"No." Bird's posture slouched and slowly she turned back around. The look on her face had softened and so did her voice when she started, "I don't want you to leave."

She moved closer, "Look, about the other day-"

Her words were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.

Jim's head dropped forward, cursing under his breath before he looked back to her and offered, "I'll get it."

Bird walked over to get a mug down from the cabinet for her tea, wondering what kind of gift basket it would be this time.

She turned back around just as Jim came back into view, she started to ask the question on her mind, but then she saw he wasn't alone.

"Oswald."
The greeting sounded like a breathe of relief.
That realization wasn't lost on Jim

"Bird-" Oswald's voice caught in his throat, his eyes went to the dark bruising on her neck.

So many close calls had been shared between them over the years of their friendship. It felt like at least of them was almost always in danger.

But it didn't matter how times they'd nearly been killed or that he'd seen her in much worse shape than she currently was; seeing her like that still drove a stake right through him. He could have lost her.

Crossing the room with his uneven gait, he came to a stop just in front of her before leaning in to hug her in a rather awkward move. He still struggled when it came to initiating physical contact -and having Jim Gordon there watching them didn't help matters at all.

"Do you want some tea?" Bird questioned as she returned the embrace, for the first time in what felt like forever feeling a bit like herself as she admitted, "Barbara Kean sent it to me and Jim thinks it could be poisoned."

"No, thank you." He stepped back and grasped onto her arms; the expression on his face changed as he said, "We need to talk."

"God…" She breathed out while shaking her head, "I'm really starting to hate those words..."

Oswald glanced over his shoulder to where Jim was still lingering in the doorway of the room before looking back to Bird and adding, "Alone."

She led him down the hallway and into one of the spare rooms, which had been functioning as a sort of makeshift home office.

She went in first and Oswald followed. Once inside, Oswald turned around to see if Jim still had them in his line of sight -he did.

As if on cue the kettle started to whistle.

"You'd better get that." Oswald called out to him with one side of his mouth angled up in a smirk.
Grabbing onto both of the heavy wood sliding doors that met in the middle, Oswald slammed them shut.

"Really?" Bird blinked, "As if I'm not having enough problems with Jim already."

"I couldn't resist." Oswald smiled as he turned to face where she was leaned against the large desk, "He used to look at you with the very same irritated expression he still gives me."

"How the times have changed." Bird arched a brow at him.

"That they have." He nodded.

She couldn't help but smile at thinking how one thing that hadn't changed was that they both still loved getting under Jim's skin.

Clearing his throat he walked closer, "I'm going to ask you something, Bird. And all I ask is for your honesty-"

"Look-" She interrupted as she lowered her voice, not knowing how close Jim might be to door, "I know we both said some things the other night, but-"

"No." He quickly cut her off, "I'm not talking about that."

"Then what's going on?"

"Do you know Butch Gilzean's current location?" Oswald asked, his eyes locked on her face to try and seek out any sign of alarm.

"No." Bird answered honestly.

She expected him to look relieved at the news but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

His posture dropped, shrunk him down a good few inches.

"Ed knows." Oswald closed his eyes.

"Where Butch is?" Bird's head still felt foggy from the day before.

"About Isabel!" He whisper-yelled as he stomped his good leg down in frustration at her inability to keep up.

"Isabella." Bird corrected.

"Yes!" He tossed his arms up, "Whatever. Ed knows it wasn't an accident. We should have never let him leave that morning."

"Damn it, Oswald!" The outburst left her sputtering and she reached up to hold onto her neck.

"It's not as bad as it sounds-" Oswald was going to explain, but Bird couldn't hear it.

"This is exactly what I said would happen. He'd find out and he'll kill you and then I'll kill him and then-"

"And then inevitably someone will come for you." He finished, "Yes, Bird, I already know how your version of this ends. But newsflash! This isn't about you."

Her face shifted into an expression he'd seen too many times. She was about to snap, usually she'd fly off at the mouth with something to hurt him -but the last time they fought she'd stabbed him.

"He thinks Butch is the one who had her killed, not me." Oswald quickly filled in while he still had the floor.

"I can't help you." Bird crossed her arms over her chest, "I don't know where he is."

He walked closer, his limp more pronounced with the slow movement, "Bird."

She didn't appreciate his tone or the way in which he was closing in on her like wounded prey.

Making it clear she wasn't the least bit afraid of him, she calmly leaned back against the desk again, and drummed her fingertips over the polished smooth surface.

Oswald looked down and saw the glint of light reflecting from something shiny on the desk; something metal. A pointed tip letter opener.

"Going to stab me again?" He asked.

Bird looked over, she hadn't even realized the tool had been there.

"I'm not sure." She answered with a light shrug, "I've been through a lot lately. Might be a bit unstable."

"Just a bit?" He retorted.

They stared at one another before they both smiled.

"You truly don't know where he is?" Oswald regained his composure first.

Still chucking to herself, Bird repeated, "I don't know where he's at. I haven't seen him since the night of your victory party for winning the election."

It was the truth; most of it at least.
She didn't offer up the knowledge that she'd brought the ambulance to a stop that night -or that she'd left him in Tabitha's hands.

"If you hear anything?" Oswald stepped back.

"I'll let you know." She nodded.

Once her best friend was gone and she returned to the kitchen, Jim asked, "What was that about?"

"I think he knows I had something to do with Butch escaping." Bird openly admitted.

A shadow of concern landed on his face.

"Don't worry." Bird insisted, "I'm not in any danger."

••• Later that day •••

"Was that the last one?" Bird asked.

"Yeah." Jim blew out a breath and dropped onto the couch next to her.

They'd spent well over an hour going through the assortment of gifts that had shown up from everyone wanting to show their support or let her know they were thinking of her.

Bird tossed the open notebook she'd been making the list of everyone who'd reached out to her in on the coffee table and sank back into the cushion.

Jim had repeatedly reminded her she didn't have to do any of this today, but she knew if she didn't force her way through it now than she'd never get around to getting the thank you cards sent out.

That was one lesson her parents had instilled in her.
Even as a child they'd have her send out thank yous for any gifts she received. She'd thought it was ridiculous at the time, especially when the gift had been something she didn't like.

But as an adult, especially being more in the public eye than ever before, she understood it.
It was important for networking.

In all honesty she still thought it was a little ridiculous and overly-time consuming, but heaven forbid she didn't publicly show gratitude for gifts she never asked for or wanted.

Most of what she'd gotten was in a pile to donate anyways.

"Are you going to talk to me?" Jim finally asked.
Having long since grown frustrated with her silence.

"I have been." She rolled her head against the cushion to look at him.

"About gift receiving etiquette." His eyes hadn't left her face, "That's not what I'm talking about and you know it."

"I…" She huffed, "You were the one who said we needed to talk… so you start. You're the one who's mad at me."

"I'm not mad." He sat up further, confusion twisting his face and pointed out, "Bird, you saved my life yesterday. Why do you think-"

"No." She shook her head, her hair frizzing from the friction of her head still against the fabric, "I'm talking about before that."

The muddiness cleared and he understood she was talking about the argument they'd gotten into well before Barnes had tried to kill them both.
It was a stupid fight to begin with and seemed even more so now that they'd been through such an ordeal.

"None of that matters now." He tried to ease her mind.

"It does."
Now it was Bird who sat up further in preparation for a sure to be uncomfortable conversation.

"Not trying to bring past relationships into this." Bird began, "But this is the kind of stuff that happened with Harvey, okay? We'd be in some stupid fight and then something life or death would happen and we'd never bring it up again because it felt like all that mattered was we lived. But the reasons behind the arguments did matter and it would make the next fight even worse."

"Okay." Jim pulled in a breath and nodded in agreement.
He knew she was saying she didn't want to make the same mistakes again and now that he thought about it, that was something that had happened in his last two previous relationships as well.

That's how the rot started to set in.

And he wanted to do things better; do them right this time around.

The room drifted back into silence and he finally admitted, "Where do we start?."

"I guess where we left off?" Bird guessed.

"You were mad at me because I wouldn't agree to marry you -even though you weren't asking me to." Bird focused it on him.

"Wow…" Jim closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, "Can we word that a little different? That just makes me sound idiotic and also not what happened at all."

"It is too what happened." Bird insisted, "You got mad at me because I wouldn't agree to marry you, even though you weren't proposing. And then the next morning you didn't kiss me before you left for work and said 'we need to talk tonight'" She deepened her voice to mimic him, "And that is never a good sign."

Deciding to lay all the cards on the table she added, "I thought you were going to break up with me."

"That's why you ran off?!"
It was a half-question/half-realization.

"I didn't understand." Jim explained, "I went to work that day thinking it was just a stupid argument we'd sort out later and then next thing I knew you were gone.

"And for the record, I never wanted to end things with us -I still don't." He clarified.

"Me either."
Her head cocked to the side, "What the hell even happened?"

"I only brought marriage up in the first place, because you had that dress and you were talking about how you had no point in keeping it and I…" He turned more on the seat to face her, "I thought you wanted me to tell you -you should keep it."

"No!" Bird exclaimed, "But then you just got so upset that I wouldn't agree to marry you."

He opened his mouth but then stopped, he couldn't really argue against that.
Blame it on exhaustion or the crossed wires and communication -but only to a degree.

"Yeah, well, that surprised us both." He shook his head.

She frowned, "It's because you don't think I take things seriously, right?"

Jim looked at her.

"And maybe I don't take everything as seriously as I should -but you need to know that I do take us, "She motioned between then, "This, seriously."

"I know you do." He scooted closer, his hand finding hers.

It was the truth too, if there one thing she did take seriously it was the people she cared about and she loved him.

"Then what happened?" She pushed.

Jim ran his tongue over his lips. Not sure how to put it into words -at least, not in a way that wouldn't cause her to shut down again.

Any mentions of the future made her clam up faster than anything else.

He knew what he wanted, not that it was something he wanted to happen tomorrow, but definitely in the foreseeable future.

Marriage, kids -eventually.

And even though they'd been together for a while now, he'd realized he had absolutely no idea if she saw the same things in her own future.

When Tetch had drugged him with Red Queen, the one solace in the series of hallucinations he'd gone through had been the part when he'd been with her. He'd told her what he saw them together, with kids of their own.

Once she'd managed to wipe the shocked expression off her face, she'd at first quickly lied and said she'd seen the same.

She'd come clean later on, admitting that she'd actually been back in her old life, working at Fish's club in the days when she and Oswald were inseparable.

He swallowed hard.

"What?" Bird questioned.
Jim's extended silence left her with a strange sensation in her chest; like she'd consumed too much caffeine and her heart was unsteady; unreliable.

"I know that you take us seriously." Jim answered, "I guess what concerns me is that I don't think you know what you want, Bird."

Her brows furrowed.
The tone in his voice was full of concern and love -it was clear he didn't mean that in an insulting manner. But she wasn't sure how else to take such a statement rather than be offended.

"What do you want?" She focused on keeping her tone steady; against the urge to snap at him.

"A family." Jim admitted.

Bird looked down at their still joined hands. Along with the admission his grip had tightened on her ever so slightly, like he were afraid she was going to pull away. He hadn't even realized it.

"The dream, huh?" Bird gave a one shoulder shrug with a sideways smile and tried to make light of it, "House and a white picket fence? Two-point-five kids? A dog and cat?"

"Maybe just the kids and a dog." Jim tried to joke, but his eyes didn't leave her face.
Paying closer attention to her physical response and body language than her words -or lack there of.

"I…" She slightly stammered, her tone wavering, "This sounds like the beginning of a really big conversation that I'm not ready to have."

"I'm not saying I want this to happen right now." He clarified, "I just need to know if we're moving in the same direction."

"What does that even mean?" Bird turned further to face him.

She looked every bit as distressed as she felt.

Confusion felt like it was closing in from all sides, leaving her vision blurred, head hazy. That was until the fog cleared and she didn't need him to say anymore.

A jolt of clarity and anger hit her like lightening.

Bird shook her head, pulling her hand from his grip and thinking she knew exactly what he meant; or more so who he was talking about.

Her close bond with her best friend seemed to lie at the middle of every bad argument she and Harvey had had when they were together.

"This is about Oswald." Bird rasped, suddenly becoming aware again of just how bad her throat was still hurting and the strain talking put on her.

"No-" Jim started to say, but Bird stood up and took a step back away from him.

"He is my best friend, Jim." She asserted.

"I know that!" Jim's voice raised.

"Then why…" She shook her head, "How could you ask me to choose then?"

"Okay, no, no, no." Jim stood up and moved closer to her, "It's happening again. We're not on the same page at all."

"I have been proposed to two times in my life." Bird began, her words caused Jim's face to scrunch with a disarray of emotions.

"The first time was the night Maroni's men had taken Don Falcone hostage and Oswald set out to kill him." Bird gestured with her hand like she was trying to stir up Jim's memory of that day.

He remembered it well.
They'd been holed up in one wing of the hospital fighting against Maroni's men and even some of the police force. The late crime boss had gotten then Commissioner Loeb to side with him and turn on Falcone.

Bird had showed up at the hospital and kept Oswald from killing her biological father and in all honesty, Jim wasn't sure he'd have made it out of there alive if she hadn't had his back in the gunfight before Bullock showed up.

It was probably the first time he'd actually trusted her. Though at the time it was out of desperation and not having any other viable options.

"Harvey proposed to me that night solely to try and keep me there with him." Bird admitted, "And then the second time he asked me to marry him it was pretty much under the conditions that I leave every aspect of my old life behind."

Jim bit his tongue, he wanted to interrupt and tell her how far off base her train of thought had gone. But he didn't, because he understood what she was getting at.

That it was about control.
That the engagement, the idea of marriage was something used to essentially keep her in line.

"I am not him." Jim stated when she stopped for a breath.
Doing his best to keep his anger in check at the idea of her comparing them in her mind.

He'd never been given all the gritty details of their relationship, but he'd seen her badly bruised hand and wrist from when Harvey had grabbed her. Bird had once told him that with Harvey, things were either really good or really bad.

Her breath was uneven as she stared back at him.

"I know that." She argued.

"I - am - not -him." Jim repeated slower, emphasizing every word and stepping up until he was right in front of her.

"Have I ever asked you to cut contact with Oswald… or anyone for that matter?" He pointed out.

She didn't answer.

"All I am trying to say is that I want to move forward." He tilted his head until he caught her line of sight, "And Bird, sometimes…"

"Sometimes, what?" Her voice was barely over a whisper.

"You told me that back when you were working at the club that -that was the only time in your life that you knew who you were and what you wanted." Jim pointed out, "What I'm trying to say is that you can't move forward if part if you is still trying to go in reverse."

She nodded, a hand going to her throat as she held onto her sore, bruised skin and it took her a few moments to gather both her thoughts and words.

In the big picture of it all three years was such a short span of time and in those years she'd lost and also gained so much. Her life had gone thought one major change after another and most days she did feel like she was still struggling to find a solid foothold.

"My life drastically changed so much in such a short period of time." Bird defended, "Every time I find solid ground it's like the rug gets pulled out from under me. I'm still trying to figure things out, okay?"

What she didn't say out loud was how a part of her was afraid to let herself really want the same things he did, or even more so focus too much on the future in general because she felt like she'd been living on borrowed time since she was a teenager.

And then the path she'd chosen for herself years ago left her with a permanent feeling of the sand in the hourglass being close to running out.

Anytime she'd allow herself to envision the future, it was painful, a feeling of loss.
Missing something she'd never even had.

"I'm not asking you to have it all figured out." Jim's expression softened, "But it's impossible to push forward when you're holding that tightly onto the past."

"Okay."
The one worded answer was about as simple as they come, but saying it out loud brought a calmness over her that she hadn't felt for a little while.

He was right.

Some things would never go back to how they were. She was never going to have that part of her life back again and there was so much from that time she wouldn't want to bring back; other aspects of it she would lop off a limb to have back.

But no amount of sacrifice could reverse the hands of time to bring that about.

It was time to move onward.
Start as anew as one could manage in a place like Gotham.

"I'll work on moving forward." Bird vowed with a single nod.

"The one thing I'm sure of right now is you." Bird closed the space between them, kissed him and let her lips linger on his before she pulled back enough to add, "I love you, Jim. And right now I need that to be enough, okay?"

"Okay." He echoed.

He wrapped his arms around her and she sank forward against him.

As he held her a feeling of calmness settled back into the house, leaving them both feeling lighter and less burdened than they had in the prior days.

••• The next morning •••

Bird glanced up at the clock on the wall in the consultation room at the hospital.

Blowing out a sigh she drummed her nails on the desk and tried to keep herself distracted by looking through the latest book of keys her brother had given her.

Bruce was convinced they would find they answers to the questions they had about the key concealed in the necklace Ivy had stolen in one of the various books and texts their father had stored in Wayne Manor.

When she'd stopped by the house on her way to the hospital that morning she'd offered to help him with the search and he'd given her a small book to start with. The old leather cover was softened with age and wear.

The pages, tattered around the edges, were varying shades of yellowish brown.
Sullied with time.

"Interesting read?"

Bird's head raised at the familiar voice and she closed the book. Sliding it into her purse, she straightened her posture and answered, "Very."

"Hmm." Mario hummed, his eyebrows raised at her tone. But he didn't say anything as he slid off his lab coat and hung it from one of the hooks on the wall.

Taking a seat behind the desk, he laid a file down in front of him and took a moment to survey her current state.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

His eyes locked with those of his younger half-sister. Her eyes were a few shades darker than his, but still familiar.

"Fine." Bird's gaze dropped to the file on the desk.

"Really." Mario leaned forward further, his voice lowering slightly as if they weren't the only ones in the room, "How are you?"

"Healing…" Bird's voice trailed off.
The seemingly genuine concern in his voice caught her off guard.

"What happened to Dr-" She started to question where the doctor she'd met with earlier had went but he answered the question before she could even finish it, "I offered to take this."

"Seeing as how we're family?" Bird frowned.
What was he up to?

"Well…" Mario rested his arms on the desk, his hands clasped, "I have tried, unsuccessfully, I might add, to reach out to you."

She shifted, a little uncomfortable in the chair then gestured to the file and asked, "All clear?"

"Yes." He smiled, "You shouldn't have any long term effects from what happened. The brain scans all came back clear, I know there was some concern about the lack of oxygen during the attack, but yes, you're in the clear."

His head tilted towards the left as he added, "Though I do still recommend you wearing the neck brace to help immobilize-"

"Great." Bird flashed him a smile that didn't emit any warmth at all and stood up.
She had no interested in an further unsolicited medical advice.

She grabbed up her purse and sunglasses from where she'd placed them on the desk while waiting and started for the door.

"Would it really be so terrible to have a conversation with me?" He called after her, "I am your brother."

"I was just on my way to the office." She excused her abrupt exit but then he said something that brought her to a halt.

"I remember you, you know?"

Bird didn't turn around but she heard the metal on the chair squeak slightly as he stood to his feet.

"You were just a baby, of course." Mario continued, "I remember holding you. Those eyes of yours staring up at me…" He shook his head, "I was just a kid, but I remember."

Slowly, she turned back around.
Faced the sibling she'd never gotten the chance to know.

"You were there and suddenly you were gone and everything in my life changed." He continued.
Trying to level with her as he explained that's when their father had sent away from Gotham.

Citing the city was far too dangerous a place for him any longer and sparked a new found dedication to the promise Carmine had made to Mario's mother; that he wouldn't raise him into a life of crime.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better… my life certainly didn't turn into sunshine and rainbows after that either." Bird stared at him.

"Look, Bird." He crossed around to the other side of the desk, moving closer so they could talk, "What I'm getting at is that you're my sister. I want to get to know you -why are you so reluctant to do the same?"

"You really don't want to know me." Bird shook her head and let out a small laugh.

"Why?" He crossed his arms over his chest, "The way I see it, we've got over twenty years of lost time to make up for."

"Trust me." Bird nearly snorted, "Reuniting with long-lost relatives is nothing but a disappointment."

The statement was bitter on her tongue.

She'd spent her entire life wanting to know who her biological parents were. Dreaming up make believe lives for them and searching out familiar faces in the crowd.

Nothing could have prepared her for the truth; especially when it came to her mother, Lily.

"Yeah?" He mirrored the laugh when he saw she was standing with her arms crossed in the same stance he was, "What if it isn't? You may not have been old enough to have any memories of me, but I lost you. My sister who's loss I felt and mourned for most of my life. I didn't even know you were still alive until just over a year ago."

Bird's brows lowered and she asked, "Falcone didn't tell you? He's known since I was like twelve."

"No." Mario shrugged, "Which doesn't really come as a surprise, Dad has a history of keeping me in the dark about many aspects of his life."

This time it was Bird who slowly advanced forward, "I didn't know anything about you, but I knew Don Falcone had a son and so then when I learned the truth about him being my father… I just assumed you'd known all along and didn't want anything to do with me."

"I didn't know." He reiterated shaking his head, "God knows that Dad has many flaws, but I do think, in his own way, he's tried to do the best he could by us. But this…" He pulled in a breath, "I wish I had known years ago."

"Would it have changed anything?" She cocked her head to the side.
The spite was gone from her tone. What she was asking was now a genuine question and not a loaded gun where any answer would backfire on him.

"I'd certainly like to think so." Mario admitted.

"I don't…" Bird tossed her arms out to the sides, "I don't even know where to begin with this."

"Lunch?" He suggested, "Tomorrow?"

He might not have known her very well but he didn't miss the look of hesitation in her eyes.

"I'm getting married. I'm setting up a life here, a family and I would really like for you to be a part of that." His eyes met hers and he questioned, "What have you got to lose?"

•••

A/N - Thank you for reading!

I'd like to give a shout-out to: SmellYourScentForMiles, xxXWolfsLullabyXxx, AGBreads, Shadow knight1121, Iamskittles, Havana, Katniss789, Adela, runawaycherry93 and to the Guests who reviewed since my last update. Thank you!

I apologize for the updates being so sporadic, but I can promise I am doing what I can to keep the chapters coming.

If you liked the chapter/are enjoying Bird's stories, I would really appreciate it if you'd take the time to leave a review and let me know.
At the moment I could really use the inspiration to keep up with posting.