XXII - The Awakening
"I think you can love a person too much. You put someone up on a pedestal, and all of a sudden, from that perspective, you notice what's wrong - a hair out of place, a run in a stocking, a broken bone. You spend all your time and energy making it right, and all the while, you are falling apart yourself. You don't even realize what you look like, how far you've deteriorated, because you only have eyes for someone else." - Jodi Picoult
•••
"Good evening, Miss Wayne."
The concierge at the hotel Bird had been staying at for the past few days greeted her with a tip of his hat.
"Evening." Bird politely replied with a feeble attempt at a smile.
The first few days she'd been staying at the luxury hotel she'd barely left her suite, but now she'd been making an attempt at getting some normality back in her life.
She'd had lunch with Oswald earlier in the day and had gone out to a late dinner by herself that night.
A dinner which she was currently returning from.
Her brisk pace slowed when she saw a cleaning crew hard at work in a cordoned off area just by the elevators.
Before she even had a chance to ask what had happened, the hotel employee let out a burdened sigh, "Hooligans."
When her only response was an arched brow, be continued to explain, "Some kids must have got into the lobby while I stepped out for a smoke earlier. Graffiti-ed the wall."
"Ah." Bird barely glanced back at him before starting for the elevators to return to the quiet of her room.
"What an eyesore."
She heard him mumble under his breath as she walked away.
As Bird stepped onto the elevator she only caught a glimpse of the rough painting on the wall. A large pair of eyes, pointed at the top edges with a smile constructed of the word 'HAHA' repeating up into a curve.
Several minutes later she'd shed the clothes, make up and hair up-do that she'd donned for the night.
Trying to keep up appearances on the outside to conceal the mess inside was exhausting.
Fake it till you make it, she'd told herself.
Hoping that if she acted like she was okay and looked fine then maybe one day she'd mean it.
But now here she sat, alone in her hotel suite -dressed for bed with her face scrubbed clean and her hair down in a frizzy mess. And the truth was she felt more like herself than she had all day.
She'd just started to feel like there was room to breath when her phone range.
Her stomach clenched in a knee jerk reaction.
She couldn't think of a single person she wanted to talk to.
Bird knew it was more than likely her brother calling her.
Apparently Selina's mother had shown up back up to get into her daughter's good graces -but it had all been a con game to try and extort money from Bruce.
When Selina found out she'd been absolutely crushed, but it had only deepened the blow to find out that Bruce had suspected it was a con all along and didn't tell her.
Now Selina was pissed and not talking to him.
It was a few days prior Bird had listened to Bruce tell the story, followed with an endless list of reasons why he'd made the choices he did.
He wanted to protect her, he didn't want to see her get hurt… etc.
Usually when Bruce was upset, Bird would drop anything and everything to come to his aid and try and help but not this time.
She wasn't sure if it was because she found herself siding with Selina on this one -or that she just didn't currently posses the emotional capacity to be there for someone else when she felt her own life was in shambles.
She'd spaced out on some point during the phone call, wondering if Bruce had any idea how trivial his problem sounded compared to the fact that she'd watched her biological half-brother die not all that long ago.
A part of her was traumatized from it still and she'd had a brief flare of rage at her little brother for not thinking of that and hung up the phone on him.
Only to sit there for the next several minutes feeling like crap for doing so.
How could she expect him to know how much damage Mario's death had done to her when she wouldn't talk about it -or couldn't talk about it, she didn't know the difference anymore.
Either way, she couldn't find the strength to call him or back and had since been ignoring both Bruce and Alfred's calls.
When she picked her phone up from the coffee table she saw it was Jim calling her.
Bird held her breath and stared at the small display on the phone.
She'd told him she needed time that she needed space and so far he'd respected that.
Her stomach clenched, what if something was wrong?
Without thinking it over again, she flipped the phone open and placed it to her ear, "Hello?"
She was met silence. Her heart sped up and she scooted forward on the chair she was sitting on, "Jim?"
"Hey-" He stammered, nearly choking on the drink of beer he'd taken right as she answered. He'd expected the call to be sent to voicemail.
"Hey?" Bird repeated back to him. Sinking back into her seat some.
"I, uh…" Jim breathed setting the bottle down with a clank on the coffee table, "Sorry, I didn't think you'd pick up."
The conversation fell of a cliff into awkward silence.
Both of them holding onto their phones with a near white-knuckled grip and waiting for the other to say something.
Say anything.
With the lack of talking they could both hear the TV's softly playing in each others background.
They were watching to same channel.
Bird smiled to herself and Jim let out an amused breath before he grabbed the remote and muted the TV, but she left hers playing.
"How are you?" Jim broke the silence first.
The smile fell from her lips and she lied, "I'm kind of in the middle something. Are you just calling to catch up or did you need something-"
"I'm calling for a reason."
He quickly answered, hoping to get the sentence out before she hung up.
Bird glanced around, unable to locate the remote she stood and crossed the room, shutting the TV off and making her way over to the mini bar.
She wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but she had a feeling she would need some help to make it through the phone call.
"I know you said you wanted some time…" His voice trailed off.
She didn't say anything.
"But the case I'm working-" He decided to skip over the details and get to the point, "It looks like Jerome's following is growing -or at least organizing now.
"Organizing for what?" Bird questioned.
"Not sure." He admitted.
She decided to skip the drink as she listened to him explain how they'd followed a man who worked at the local morgue to an abandoned, run down building where the cult was dressed in various attire and make-up.
Watching the same news footage over and over again.
Repeating every word along with Jerome like it were scripture.
"Jerome has been dead for quite a while now." Bird glanced up to the ceiling with annoyance, "I don't understand why the cult just keeps growing."
"Me either." Jim agreed with a nod even though she couldn't see him.
"But, I wanted to give you a heads up so you'd know to be careful." He explained.
"I get stabbed on live TV one time and suddenly there's a cult obsessed with me."
She bit down on her bottom lip and held in a laugh.
The attempt at a joke was wasted on Jim who didn't find it the least bit amusing.
"It was a joke-" She tried to defend, but Jim cut her off, "It's not funny."
Before she could say anything else he added, "And yes, they are just as fascinated with you as Jerome was -and now there's been a renewed interest with him and-"
"I'll be careful."
Bird interrupted, feeling like she'd been scolded.
Her mind flashed back to the graffiti in the hotel lobby.
"Where are you staying?" Jim questioned.
"Jim-"
"I know." He already knew exactly what she was going to say next, "Bird, I know you're more than capable of watching out for yourself."
When he knew she was listening he continued, "But there were a lot of people at that gathering today and more than likely that's just the tip of the iceberg."
"And you'd feel better if I just came back home, right?" She questioned.
She'd had a feeling that was where the conversation was headed.
"Frankly, yes." He admitted, "But… if that's not an option then we can at least put a patrol car on watch wherever you're staying."
Bird laughed. That was the most hilarious thing she'd heard in a while.
"Jim, you know I hate cops."
"Eventually, I'm going to take offense to that."
He didn't miss a beat.
Damn him, she shook her head, smiling even though she didn't want too.
Jim quietly chuckled and then the air between them fell back into silence.
He picked the beer bottle back up from the table and took a long drink before admitting, "I miss you."
Bird rubbed her forehead as she confessed, "I miss you too."
"Then come home."
He made it sound so easy. So simple.
"I can't." Bird argued, "We can't just snap back into place."
"I know that." He urged, "But we can't get through this with you staying gone."
The silence took over again, only this time it felt heavy. Suffocating and thick.
"That is what you want, right?" He asked.
It was putting her on the spot and he knew that wasn't fair, but he had to know.
"I love you, Jim."
Bird's voice was barely above a whisper.
"That's not what I asked."
He pointed out, but his tone was defeated.
Like she'd kicked him when he was already down.
"I can't talk about this right now." Bird said, "I have to be up early tomorrow for an interview-"
"An interview?" Jim repeated.
"Oswald is thinking about taking his campaign national and we've got an interview with Margaret Hearst tomorrow." She explained, then quickly said, "Goodnight, Jim."
With that she ended the call before things could get worse.
She guessed they'd either have gotten into a fight over Oswald being a criminal and holding a political office.
Or even worse, that he'd keep trying to convince her to come home.
Something that she wanted to do but wasn't ready to.
She'd opened up the last time she'd seen him, explained how being mad at him made her dangerous to herself, but it was more than that.
She'd gotten back to a point where she didn't trust herself.
Going from feeling at peace one minute and like she wanted to kill someone the next.
It came in waves.
The feelings of loss and then red rage.
So for now she was distancing herself for everyone's good.
It was temporary or at least that's what she told herself.
That she just needed some time alone to sort herself out.
Laying the closed flip-phone down on the oversized vanity in the hotel suite, Bird looked at her reflection in the mirror.
"Just have to get through tomorrow."
She spoke out loud to her reflection.
Oswald had practically begged her to do the interview with him.
Over lunch he'd gone on-and-on about how he needed her at his side.
How she was his very best and truest friend and even went so far to acknowledge how he'd never have been elected Mayor without both her help and public support of his campaign.
She'd been hesitant at first, after all Hearst was a no-holds-barred type of reporter and that made her nervous considering both she and Oswald had plenty of things to keep hidden from the public eye.
But she'd finally agreed, deciding it could be a win/win situation.
Oswald needed her there and she was going to have to make a very public reappearance eventually.
Rumors and gossip were still swirling through the city about her disappearance after Mario's death.
If she could just put on a smile and make nice for the interview then the city would see she was holding up strong after what she'd gone through.
And maybe if everyone else believed it, she could too.
••• The Following Day •••
Bird smiled widely at herself in the mirror above the sink, checking her freshly brushed teeth over before she tucked the travel toothbrush and toothpaste back into her bag.
She'd arrived at City Hall early that morning in a pair of her most comfortable jeans, boots and a loose fitting t-shirt.
She didn't see a point in getting all dressed up hours before the interview was set to start.
To her dismay, her best friend, who'd stressed they'd needed to be there hours before Hearst arrived hadn't shown up yet.
However, she did get to meet Tarquin, Oswald's new Chief of Staff in Nygma's absence.
It was his birthday and she'd joined in on the party they'd threw for him there.
Even snagging a piece of cake for breakfast and making conversation with a few people on the staff she'd grown familiar with.
She might even dare to say she had fun.
But it was short lived.
Shortly after the party the building came to life, buzzing from the stress of the upcoming interview.
The future of Oswald's political career was riding on this one-hour live interview and she had a personal stake in it as well.
So she'd disappeared into they Mayor's office, using the attached private bathroom to change into her dress and heels, brush her teeth and do her make up and hair.
Walking back out into the rest of the office she sighed at seeing there was still no sign of her best friend.
With a groan, she dropped the bag with her comfortable clothes onto the desk and took a deep breath before stepping out of the office.
"Miss Wayne!"
Bird stared wide-eyed, a deer frozen by the headlights as she was caught off guard by Margaret Hearst.
"Or should I call you Bird?" The older woman stepped closer, "Bird and Penguin, right?"
"Excuse me?" Bird stammered.
"Wow." Margaret surveyed the seemingly well put together woman in front of her and commented, "Look at you… you are even more stunning in person."
Bird's brows lowered, "I would thank you for the compliment… but I get the feeling you didn't intend it that way."
"Merely an observation!" Margaret smiled as she clasped her hands and added, "It's easy to see why Gotham loves you. Most people tend to take beauty as face value. If you're this beautiful on the outside you must be as equally beautiful on the inside."
Bird hadn't even fully processed what she was saying before she continued, "But I intend to dig deeper. To expose you and the mayor for exactly who you are."
"And what do you think we are?" Bird pushed.
Margaret looked at her.
When she'd been negotiating the terms with Oswald for the interview she had first shot down the idea of his assistance for a joint interview.
After all, he'd wanted do the interview pre-filmed at his house and she'd insisted it be filmed live at City Hall.
But after he'd said he wanted his best friend, Staring Wayne there, Margaret couldn't turn down the opportunity to drag them both out into the unforgiving light of day.
Being a reporter, it was her job to get down to the truth and no let personal bias get in the way.
But they were both guilty as sin and she knew it.
They'd both been charged and convicted with murder in the past, both arrested multiple times, both had served time in Arkham Asylum -and both had lost family members under questionable and violent circumstances.
Without an answer, Margaret gave her another smile before she left.
Once she was alone, Bird dropped her head back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to steady her breathing.
She knew the day wasn't going to be a walk in the park, but she'd been prepared for a tough interview -not a hit job.
It wasn't just a news interview that she and Oswald were about to walk into -it was a live interrogation being broadcast to every home in Gotham.
The last time she'd been on a live broadcast had been the Children's Hospital Benefit Gala.
All she could do at this point was hope today would be better than that was.
Bird scurried around for a while trying to find Oswald, but he wasn't anywhere to be found and also wasn't taking her calls,
She found Tarquin Stemmel's office and gave a quick knock before opening the door and walking inside. Hoping that Oswald had at least touched base with his Chief of Staff that morning.
"Bird!" Oswald barely managed to squeak out.
The gold trophy he'd just bludgeoned Tarquin to death with fell from his hand and landed in the pool of blood on the floor.
Quickly slamming the door shut behind her, Bird spun back around to face Oswald, who was still straddling Tarquin's lifeless body on the floor.
"What the hell did you do?!" She whisper-yelled at him.
Oswald scrambled to his feet, trying to avoid stepping on any of the blood as he tried to explain that he'd had to kill him.
That his father's ghost had appeared to him the night before with a warning not to trust the birthday boy.
A omen that didn't seem to make any sense until he got to the office that morning to find out it was his Chief of Staff's birthday.
Then he'd snuck into his office and found a bag containing Elijah's decomposed remains.
The police had knocked on his door in the middle of the night to tell him his father's grave had been robbed.
Bird stared at him in disbelief and shock.
His frantic ramblings didn't make a bit of sense. He sounded out of mind and looked the part as well.
"Oswald!" Bird yelled to quiet him.
To stall the noise in her own head.
"I had to do it, Bird!" He continued to dry and defend.
"Shut up!" She yelled.
Tarquin's death wasn't the most pressing matter.
"You have to pull yourself together, do you understand me?"
"But-" Oswald nearly howled.
"Damn it!" Bird yelled, reaching out to grab onto his suit jacket and pull him closer to drive the point home, "Listen to me."
Her face was just inches away from his, if even that far.
His nose was overwhelmed by the mint on her breath from the toothpaste she'd used minutes before.
"Pull yourself together." Bird hissed, still holding him in place with an iron clad grip he didn't have a chance in hell of breaking free from, "We are going on live TV in less than ten minutes and that woman hates us both."
Trying to catch his breath, Oswald frantically nodded along with what she was saying.
"She's going to try and bury us. To turn the city against us." She was staring wide-eyed as spoke, "Do you understand?"
"Yes." He swallowed hard. Trying to center himself.
"So we have to go out there and be all smiles and charm." Bird continued.
"Okay." He agreed.
"We're going to radiate warmth and kindness, got it?" She still wouldn't let go of him, "Now wipe that blood off and act like you didn't just cave in the skull of your employee because we need to make the city love us, okay?"
"Yes." Oswald nodded.
This was possibly the most confrontational and terrifying pep-talk he'd ever gotten, but somehow it was doing the trick.
He couldn't feel his blood rushing under his skin anymore.
The panic he'd been in just seconds before was completely gone.
When she was sure he was back in control, Bird let go of his suit and took a step back away from him.
"What about him?" Oswald asked, motioning with a hand to the dead body on the floor for a second before he started to adjust his tie and straighten out the wrinkles she'd caused his clothes.
"There's no time." Bird observed the mess, "We'll have to deal with this after the fact."
"I've got a key." Oswald remembered the various keys he had to offices in the building, "We'll lock the office up and come back after-"
"Mr. Stemmel?" A female voice accompanied the knock on the office door.
Bird cupped her hand over Oswald's mouth to silence the gasp he'd let out.
They stared at each other wide-eyed.
"Mr. Stemmel?"
Oswald stepped away from Bird and stared at the office door, his eyes tunnel vision focused on the door knob.
Bird reached over and pickled up another trophy off Tarquin's desk and adjusted her grip.
If anyone came in that room, they'd have to silence them too.
"Have you seen the Mayor?"
Finally the woman let out an annoyed sigh and they heard the clicks of her heels on the floor descended.
Bird and Oswald both let out a sigh of relief and he looked over just in time to see her return the trophy to the desk.
A smile crept across his lips.
Just like old times, he thought, she still had his back no matter what.
"What?" Bird whispered when she realized Oswald was just standing in place grinning at her.
"I've missed you, Bird." Oswald whispered back.
•••
"Where are they!?" Margaret Hearst complained, checking her watch once again.
"Ma'am-" One of Oswald's city hall staff stammered nervously as he swatted away the sweat beading above his brows, "We're still trying to locate-"
"They're here!"
A voice rang out from the back of the room.
"There they are!"
Someone else echoed.
Bird and Oswald both stumbled to a stop in the middle of the rush to make it to the interview on time.
They'd halted so fast that Oswald's new shoes screeched against the recently polished floor.
Bird did her best to smile and brushed the hair from her face.
"Sorry I'm late!" Oswald called out with a nervous laugh, "…Mayor stuff-" He added.
Margaret shook her head in disbelief, her every feature now pointed with something verging on disgust.
Oswald pretended not to notice and moved closer to the open chairs awaiting his and Bird's arrival.
But his best friend wasn't keeping the pace.
A nauseous feeling was rising in her stomach, immediately she regretted the birthday cake she'd eaten earlier in the morning.
This was far from the first interview she'd done in her life, but everything about this already felt wrong.
It was airing live, so she couldn't miss a beat.
Every word she said would be analyzed, every change in her expression interpreted.
The lighting has harsh, pointed more so at the chairs designated for them than at their interviewer.
An interrogation.
The room felt cold and like no one there was on her side.
"Oswald!" She whispered in a hiss, her hand reaching out for his sleeve to stop him.
This was a bad idea. A terrible idea.
There was a dead body locked in an office not far from them.
She couldn't deny she hadn't been in the best state of mind lately and her friend was heartbroken over Edward Nygma and convinced his dead father was haunting him.
All of the confidence she'd felt moments before dissipated into thin air.
Agreeing to this interview was a mistake.
Suddenly there was a pair of hands on her arms and she was being led to the leather seat next to where Oswald was sitting.
She wanted to turn and run the other way -but that wasn't an option.
By the time she'd been seated for the interview a buzzing had started in ears.
Someone was clipping a microphone onto her dress but she was barely aware of the hovering presence.
"I hope you're ready, Mr. Mayor." Margaret watched him closely, "The world is watching."
Oswald snatched the microphone away from the staff member trying to wire him and tried to push down his anxiety as he attached it to his own clothes,
He looked over at Bird for one last reassurance and regretted the move.
She looked scared.
Deer caught in the headlights stare, white-knuckled grip on the arm rests of her chair.
Like she could jump out of her skin at any minute.
"Bird!" He reached out to nudge her arm, but stopped when he caught sight of blood on the white cuff of his button up shirt.
"And we're live in…3…2…1"
Bird's mind was a million miles away as the cameras started to roll.
The more she tried to focus on the conversation topics the further she was pulled from the room.
What an odd feeling it was to be somewhat aware that she was starting to dissociate; but not having any power to stop it.
She shifted in her seat, nervously patted down a wrinkle in her dress.
She was suddenly overly aware of the shine her forehead gave in harsh lighting, how the left side of her hair had taken on some frizz from the dryness of the cold in the air outside.
What if she said the wrong thing?
What if she smiled too much -or even worse, didn't smile enough?
It didn't take much for public opinion to sway one way or the other.
One day they city loves you and the next they want to see you burn.
She closed her eyes and tried to pull in breath.
Why did she even care?
When had she ever really cared about any of that?
Her heart picked up speed.
She cared now because the more she got thrust into the public eye, the more scrutiny she faced.
But it wasn't just her anymore, it reflected on everything and everyone else in her life too.
If the city stopped loving her than donations for the shelters she ran would go down.
Everything she'd put so much time and effort into would suffer.
Her mind flashed back months prior, when she'd been visiting Jim at work and found out some of the guys on the force gave him a hard time about his relationship with Bird.
If she did poorly in this interview; if Margaret got her way and painted Oswald and Bird in a bad light like she wanted and intended to do, than this would also reflect badly back on Jim.
And suddenly she couldn't stop her mind from racing.
Bird felt a laugh at the back of her throat; she, who usually avoided talk about the future at all costs found herself wondering how high up in law enforcement Jim planned on going.
Caption? Police commissioner?
He couldn't be the police commissioner with a known criminal as his wife -especially if the city hated her.
Wife?
Bird lurched forward in her seat some.
What the hell was happening to her, she wondered.
Jim had made it clear he wanted a future with her; a family, but she'd backed away from it.
It felt like the hands of time were spinning so fast they could catch fire at any second.
Everything was spiraling out of control and she felt like she was free-falling through space and time.
"Everything has to be perfect…"
She could hear her mother's voice echoing in her head.
So strange was the sound now that her parents had been dead for over two years.
Her mind flashed back again, by years this time, to one of the first times she'd really been in the public eye.
She was still a kid, Bruce couldn't have been more than year old and her parents were trying to gain support for opening up a new community center.
One of the new stations in town had done a short segment on it, Bird couldn't remember much of what happened.
Mainly that she hated the dress her mom had made her wear and being scolded when she couldn't sit still long enough for her hair to done.
She remembered complaining that she didn't want to do any of this and her mom telling her that she had to.
That she had to wear the uncomfortable dress and let them put hairspray in her hair even though the fumes choked her; that they were going on camera and everything had to be perfect.
She had to be perfect.
"Bird!"
She was forcefully pulled from her panic by a sharp sting on her arm.
Bird looked down to see a red welt starting to form.
Oswald was staring at her wide-eyed, expectantly.
It was then she realized that he'd pinched her to get her attention.
She had no idea how much of the interview she'd missed or what had been said.
Perfect.
There was that word again, rattling around like chains in her head.
She wanted out of the dress she was wearing, wanted to throw her heels across the room and shake her hair loose.
Hell, in all honesty she wanted to get up and throw the chair she was sitting in across the room.
Destroy all of the media equipment around them and mow down anyone who tried to stop her.
Mainly she wanted to feel free again.
She couldn't remember a time when she felt more caged; even when she'd been locked up.
She swallowed hard, tried to appear relaxed but keep her posture straight.
With a smile spread over her lips, Bird let out a small laugh, "I'm sorry."
Looking between Oswald and Margaret, she gestured, "You were saying?"
"You were friends with the Mayor long before he'd been elected?"
Margaret focused on Bird.
"Yes." She nodded.
"You've been by his side this entire time?" Her eyes narrowed some, "You've seen him go from humble errand boy, to kitchen worker to the so-called King of Gotham?"
"Of course." Bird smiled wider, "He's my best friend and I couldn't be more proud of Oswald and all he's achieved."
"That's nice." Margaret commented under her breath, "And you, Bird… you've came quite a long ways as well. You might have came from one of Gotham's wealthiest families but you spent years working in a bar, is that right?"
Bird adjusted some in her seat, tried to release some of the tension she was holding in her muscles and smiled as she asked, "I'm sorry, are you insinuating there is something wrong with that?"
She contained the smile toying at her lips. Margaret had walked right into that, phrasing a question as if there was something wrong with that. It would offend many viewers.
Margaret's eyes widened for a split-second before she smoothly back tracked, "No. Of course not. Simply pointing out how quickly you seem to have went from working in a bar to being named the Director of Community Outreach at Wayne Enterprises rather quickly."
"Yes!" Oswald's tone in a snap. He reached out and patted Bird's arm, "She's doing great work."
"Hmm…" Margaret smiled but it lacked the friendliness one would expect of the gesture.
"Looking back over the past several years, it seems like many people have died so that the both of you could rise to where you're seated today."
Her words were sharp. Precise.
"An exaggeration." Bird tried to dismiss and Oswald pointed out, "People love to invent scandal."
"But it was murder that sent you both to Arkham, was it not?" She pushed.
"I was acquitted of all charges." Bird's posture stiffened again, "I was framed-"
"I rescued the city from the madman Theo Galavan." Oswald had started in on his own defense before Bird had finished with hers, "Some call it murder and others?" He shrugged, "A public service."
"Arkham is a prison for the criminally insane." Margaret looked between them, "You both must still face backlash from the sentences served in such a place, no?"
"Bird." Margaret focused back on her for the time being, "At the time you got sentenced to Arkham Asylum, you were engaged to Harvey Dent? One of Gotham's ADA's-"
"I hardly see the relevance of that-" She tried to cut in.
"Simply pointing out that some people might be under the impression that very relationship helped you evade further prosecution." She stared the younger woman down.
"The. Charges. Were. Dropped." Bird repeated each word like it's own sentence.
"By the District Attorneys Office." Margaret's eyebrows raised.
Bird bit down on her tongue.
There was no way to win this.
If she reacted too strongly she'd be a bitch; if she didn't have strong enough reaction than people would wonder if it were true.
"That's irrelevant." Oswald cut in; tried to defend her when she failed to say anything for herself.
"And rumor has it that you were instrumental in GCPD's Detective James Gordon's escape from Blackgate." Her tone was solid, her eyes diverted to the camera lens as if she was speaking to each person watching on TV individually, "He was serving a then life sentence for the murder of a fellow police officer."
"Jim was innocent!"
She'd snapped before she could stop herself.
Margaret settled back into her chair with a satisfied smile on her face.
When it came to Bird she had an endless amount of ammunition to use against her from her own criminal record, to her ties with the Falcone Crime Family, even the death of her biological mother that had been ruled a suicide.
There was so much she could throw at her, but all it took was the mention of one James Gordon to set her off.
"He was framed for that crime." Bird tried to calm herself down but she could feel her head starting to pound every time her heart beat to push blood through her body.
"By Edward Nygma." Margaret nodded, "Who also spent time time in Arkham and is now your-" She motioned to Oswald, "Chief of Staff."
Oswald's face twisted, the rage in his eyes looked nearly inhuman for a fleeting second.
Margaret's brow raised with intrigue. If her camera people were doing their jobs right then they'd be panning over Oswald's and Bird's faces.
Unflattering close ups that would surely show just how unhinged they both looked.
"Unemployment is at an all time low in Gotham." Oswald tried in desperation to change the subject of the conversation.
"You met your father, didn't you?" Margaret focused back on Oswald, "Elijah Van Dahl, a man who's identity your mother kept from you."
Bird looked over at her best friend to see his face had drained of all color.
He was white as a ghost.
"Oh my god…" He barely managed to breathe out.
Oswald looked at the back of the room to see his father walking behind the security. Moving around undetected by anyone else with a blood stained trophy in his hands.
"Yes, it must have been very upsetting." Margaret agreed, "He also died under suspicious circumstances. His wife and step-children disappearing soon after."
"I have to go!" Oswald gripped onto the arms of his chair, looking around to see if anyone else was seeing Elijah.
"Why?" She pushed, "Is it because there's substance to the rumors that you killed to inherit your father's wealth?"
"Father….father, father…" Oswald mumbled incoherent, unaware that Bird was patting his arm in an attempt to get his attention, "Father… wait!"
When he saw the apparition of his father leaving, he jumped to his feet, knocking the glass of water near him to the floor where it shattered and a loud gasp went through the room.
Bird was on her feet just as fast, "Oswald, are you okay?"
"Did you see him?" Oswald leaned in and whispered, his fingers fumbling to undo the microphone clipped to him.
"See who?" Bird asked but didn't get a response.
"I need go." Oswald repeated.
"The people of America; the people of Gotham deserve to know the truth!" Margaret's voice raised.
"To hell with the people!" He practically spat before he limped off in the direction he'd seen his father go in,
Bird stared in shock as her best friend hobbled away.
This was it, she thought, the end of his political career -the end of any public support in his favor and possibly her own as well.
Her movements were frantic as she looked between where Margaret was still seated and to where Oswald had left.
The smart thing to do would be to sit back down, calmly finish the interview and try to save as much face as possible after this disaster.
Though she wasn't sure there was anything she could say to rectify any of the damage that had been done.
They'd just have to live through the fallout of what happened that day on live TV.
Together, she thought to herself, she and Oswald had gotten through worse before and they'd get through this too.
"Screw it."
She mumbled to herself as she jerked the microphone from her own clothes and took off after him.
By the time she caught up with him, he was half-way down the front entrance stairs of city hall.
Standing in place but spinning in circles and out of breath.
Before racing outside he'd ran back to Tarquin Stemmel's office to make sure the body and murder weapon were still there; but the room was spotless.
No body, no weapon -his father's remains were even gone.
"Oswald!" Bird grabbed onto his arms to steady him and hold him in place, "Are you okay?"
He stared at her, his eyes wide in terror. He wanted to tell her about Tarquin's body disappearing, explain the horror he was feeling at seeing his father's ghost outside of the family mansion now -but none of it would come out.
"What the hell was that?" She yelled, motioning to the building behind them, "They city hates you now… they're going to hate me-"
"My father!" Oswald finally managed to breathe, "He was there… he… was… he. I saw him in there."
It sounded like nonsense. Jumbled words in a clumsy excuse.
"Oh my god." Bird dropped her head forward, "Are you kidding me? You stormed out of a live interview because you think you saw your Dad's ghost again? Do you have any idea how much harm you've caused the both of us? Do you even remember what you said? To hell with the people"
"Yes!" He nothing short of hissed, "Screw them all!"
Bird stepped forward, forcefully grabbed onto one of the open sides of his suit jacket when he looked like he was about to walk away from her.
"Do you have any idea the damage you've just done?" Bird whisper-yelled, her face inches away from his, "I did this-" She motioned back to the building, "All of this for you and-"
"For me?" Oswald stammered, his fingers ridden cold from the shock he'd just gone through curled around her wrist when she wouldn't let go of him, "You did this for yourself, Bird."
He hurled the accusation at her.
Pointing out that she'd only agreed to this to seize the opportunity of making a grand reappearance in the public eye for herself.
Bird's hand clenched into a fist down at her side from her free hand as he spoke and didn't back down.
Spitting out his version of the truth.
His breath like a heavy fog on her face.
She wanted to hurt him.
A rage was building back up inside of her, much like the one that had ended with her drawing blood after stabbing a fork through his hand the last time their arguments had came to blows.
A fight that ended with a knife being pressed to her neck.
She could have hit him, punched him right in the face or even thrown him down the stairs they were standing on.
But the longer she looked at him the more the violent urges faded into something else.
Into a sadness.
Grief. Loss.
Bird let go of him and took a step back.
Her movements so sudden. Recoiling like she'd been stung had caught Oswald off guard.
He'd still been yelling angrily at her.
His thoughts scattered like broken glass.
What was the last thing he'd said to her, he tried to remember, surely it hadn't hurt her that badly.
"Bird?" He'd started to ask.
Though in truth he was only mildly invested in their altercation.
They'd straighten it out later. They always did.
His eyes darted around then, trying to catch another sight of his father's ghost, but he'd seemed to have disappeared with the wind.
"We use other people. We hurt and lie to others, but we don't do that to each other."
Bird said.
"What?" Oswald's eyes drifted back to Bird.
"We used to say that all the time, remember?" She questioned, not sure if her words were audible or not. Her tongue felt swollen. A feeling of numbness setting in like she'd been injected with Novocain, "Back when we-"
"Yes, I remember!" He tossed his arms up with annoyance, "What does that have to do with anything now?"
He'd cut her off before she got a chance to finish the sentence. He may not have wondered what she was going to say next, but she did.
Back when they were going to overthrow Falcone. Back when they always gravitated towards each other. When things seemed so uncomplicated. Before they'd let other people between them.
Back when they were friend. Real friends.
"Nothing." Bird inhaled so fast she nearly choked on the air, "I guess that's the problem, huh?"
If he'd been more invested in what was going on in that moment in time maybe he'd have felt her slipping away.
The earth opening up between where they were standing, forcing them away from one another.
She looked almost dazed when his eyes landed back on her; lost in every sense of the world.
"What?" He stomped his foot down against the cement steps.
Oswald didn't have time for this. Not right now.
He needed to focus on fixing the rift between himself and Nygma.
Get him back after admitting his feelings for him hadn't gone as planned.
As far as he was concerned, Bird would be there when the dust had settled.
She always had been.
What he was blinded to was the realization she was having under the surface.
'Things are either really good between us or really bad'
That was how she'd described her relationship with Harvey Dent, but somehow she hadn't realized how fitting that had been for the entirety of her friendship with Oswald.
She'd ended things with Harvey, albeit not nearly soon enough.
She'd even left Gotham, left Jim when she realized if she stayed they'd just be pulled under the tide together.
So what was it about Oswald?
Why was that the spell she couldn't break that kept her stuck in an endless cycle of hurting him and being hurt herself?
Her mind drifted to one of the last times she'd spent an afternoon with Ivy.
The redhead bad been tending to plants, mainly a small tree that Ivy had told Bird the name of but she couldn't remember it now.
"Isn't that going to kill it?"
Bird questioned as she saw Ivy trim part of it off with scissors.
"No!" Ivy laughed, not looking up while she pruned the plant, "I'm saving it. Getting rid of the bad parts so it can grow stronger."
When she came back to the present, she stared at Oswald who'd been watching her for the last minute trying to figure out what was going on.
"I can't do this with you anymore."
Bird's head titled to the left.
He mumbled something about calling her later under his breath as he started to walk away.
She gathered from his reaction that he didn't understand.
"I mean it." She called after him, "We're done."
He stopped and turned back to face her.
His nose wrinkling as he sniffled in the cold air.
"What are you talking about?"
There was still a heightened level of irritation in his voice.
She always had to make everything about her and he just couldn't deal with that right now.
"I mean I'm done." Bird clarified, "For real this time. For good. You and me, we're over."
His eyes narrowed at her.
"This old song and dance… again?" Oswald complained.
Typical Bird, he thought to himself, threatening the nuclear option when something in his life took precedence over her.
Oswald stormed back towards the building. He needed to check Tarquin's office again and then find Nygma.
He just hadn't felt the same since he'd left.
Straightening her posture, Bird pushed a hand to the center of her chest where it hurt.
Not an ache; but a sharp pain.
A snap like bone under pressure that finally gave way.
She waited until she was sure she wouldn't cross paths with Oswald in the hallway before she headed inside of the building too.
She needed to change out of the clothes she'd worn for the interview, shed the image she'd put together like a snake sheds it's skin.
•••
Bird stood with her arms crossed over her chest, leaned back against the desk that was off center in the room.
Now back in her comfortable clothes, she watched the two men who were on the floor with their hands zip tied behind their backs.
Bound with the very same zip ties they'd planned to use on her.
One of the men was muttering to himself about how someone named Dwight wasn't going to be happy about this.
The other was just staring at Bird; his eyes wide, entirely focused on her; like he'd just witnessed a miracle.
She looked them over.
One of them had dark make-up smeared and spread all around his eyes. His hair was an elaborate mess.
The other had clown make up covering only the right side of his face.
But the painted on features were too exaggerated; looking more like something out of a horror movie.
Then again she'd never been a fan of clowns anyways.
Feeling the ever present gaze of the other on her, she looked back to the one staring.
"I can't believe it's actually you." He practically gushed, "Really you. Right here in front of me."
Tilting his head to the side he rubbed his bruised cheek against his shoulder, he could still feel the impact from the blow she'd landed in the struggle.
Dwight had only sent two of them to grab Bird; thinking two against one would get the job done.
But they were novices against an experienced fighter and hadn't stood a chance.
"Hey…" He practically cooed, his eyes growing abnormally wide and causing his face to look very alien, "Can I see them? The scars he gave you?"
Bird's hand clenched into a fist at her side and the reaction wasn't lost on Jerome's acolyte started to bounce excitedly where he was sitting and encouraged, "Yeah! Hit me! Again!"
Her face scrunched up as she studied him.
Bird uncurled her fingers from her palm and rather than colliding with her attackers face, she raised both hands to her own face and let out a muffled scream of frustration.
With the company she kept in Gotham, especially in her teens and very early twenties; she'd always thought herself good at handling crazy.
Even had a oddly placed bit of pride in it; but Jerome's followers with the kind of crazy that just left her baffled.
"Bird?"
She heard Jim's voice followed by a soft knock on the door of the room.
"Finally."
She breathed as she quickly went and pulled the door open just enough to see who he'd brought with him.
"Hey." His forehead was already lined with concern, "You okay?"
"Yeah." She breathed, her eyes locking with his before she stepped to the side and ushered Jim and Bullock into the room.
Bullock looked to the two men Bird had brought down. Sitting with their hands zip-tied behind their backs.
Prepackaged and ready for arrest. All that was missing as shiny bow on top.
"Thanks for doing half the job." He chimed in.
But Jim was still watching Bird.
It had been a while since they'd seen each other face-to-face.
In fact, the first glimpse he'd gotten of her since her screaming at him in the ally behind the GCPD was on TV for the live interview she'd done earlier that day.
He couldn't deny how surprised he'd been when his phone rang and it was her.
Though the surprise quickly turned to worry when she told him she was calling because two men, who she suspected to be part of the Jerome's cult had tried to abduct her.
"James Gordon?"
The talkative follower gasped, "The James Gordon… WOW!"
Jim's attention was pulled away from Bird as he stared at the zip-tied man with a dumbfounded look on his face and Bird shook her head.
This guy was a complete lunatic.
"It's so cool I'm meeting you!" He continued, his eyes moving rapidly between where Bird was standing and back to Jim.
That was until he focused solely back on Bird, the target they were supposed to bring back to bear witness to the night of the awakening.
Not caring for the way the formerly talkative man had gone radio silent while staring at Bird, Jim took a step closer to her.
Another reaction the man didn't miss.
Who burst out into a laugh.
Eerily familiar of Jerome's -as it should have been, considering how long he'd worked to perfect the sound.
Laughed until his cheeks would ache and his throat burned raw.
"What?" Bullock yelled at him, "What's so funny?"
But the man couldn't answer while lost in the throes of the absurd fit of laughter.
Bird and Jim -wow, he thought. Jerome would certainly get a kick out of that one once he was awake.
•••
Bird stared intently down at the desk covered with photos of the symbols Jerome's cult had been painting the city with.
Pulling in a deep breath she slowly released and Jim side-eyed her.
"What is it?" He questioned.
"That-" She pointed to one of photos towards the top of the stack, a pair of pointed eyes with a smile composed of 'HahahaHAhAHA', "Someone spray painted that in the hotel I've been staying at."
"When?" He turned more to face her, but she stayed facing forward.
"Last night." Bird answered, already knowing what he'd say next.
"Before or after I called you?"
"Before." She admitted.
"Are you kidding me?" A jolt of anger, or fear disguised as anger showed in his tone, "Why didn't you say anything? Bird, I… I called to warn you about all of this-"
"I know." She interupted him.
Shaking his head, Jim closed his eyes and got a handle on the outburst, "Look, I know you're mad at me, but these people are just as obsessed with you as Jerome was and we're starting to find out this is something they've been planning for longer than we thought."
"They've got his body." Jim reminded her, "Apparently it's the night of what they're calling 'the awakening' and you were supposed to be there."
Jim and Bullock had found out through their interrogation of the men who'd tried to abduct her that they didn't have any intention of hurting her.
They'd simply planned to take her to the location where Jerome would be waking up, some messed up idea that she'd a present for the one they idolized - a familiar face he'd recognize and one he was fond of.
"So?" There was a child-like stubbornness in both her tone and the single shoulder shrug she'd given.
"Just because you're still mad-" He started to repeat.
"I don't even know what I am anymore, Jim." Bird turned to face him, her face looked unnaturally pale with red rimmed eyes -even though she hadn't been crying.
Roughly, she rubbed her hands over her face leaving her skin looking blotchy and frizzing the hair out that had fallen into her face.
He took a step closer.
This wasn't just about Mario anymore.
He knew her well enough to know something else was weighing on her, "What's going on?" He asked.
When she didn't answer, he went with his first guess, "If this is about the the televised interview… you know how the news cycle is here. Something else will happen in a few weeks and no one will remember-"
"Oh my god." Bird breathed, "It's not about the interview."
"Okay." Jim accepted. He waited for her set him straight but she stayed quiet, "Are you going to tell me or should I keep guessing?"
"Oswald and I had a fight."
Bird opened up.
Jim's eyes scanned her over.
The last time she'd told him she'd gotten int a fight with her best friend, she'd came home with bruises and scraps and admitted she'd stabbed Oswald with a fork.
But she didn't seem injured; not physically.
She could tell by the look on his face that he didn't understand why she seemed so deeply effected.
After all, friends fight. And in their years of friendship she'd lost track of the all the arguments and disagreements they'd gotten into.
Even through all of that and the periods of time they'd spent apart along with the times she swore she was done with him, he was still the only constant she'd had in her life since she was a teenager.
It didn't matter how many other friends had come and gone through that time or romantic relationships, he had still been the person she was the closest with.
"I think…" She ran her tongue over her lips and stammered, it was hard to form the words to adequately describe the turmoil this was causing, "I think we're done. I think I'm done with him… and he's done with me and we're just…done. Over."
Jim didn't say anything.
He didn't was to discredit the way she was feeling, but he'd heard her swear off of Oswald more than once.
"Hey." He reached out his hand on her arm trying to comfort her without overstepping the boundaries of space she'd put between them, "I know it probably feels like that right now, but I'm sure once you both cool of that-"
"No." Her eyes went to the floor, "It's different this time. He's… different. I'm different. It's all just.."
Her voice trailed off.
And Jim tried to lighten the conversation by guessing, "Different."
She shot him an un-amused look and he instantly knew he'd said the wrong thing.
It was just hard to take what she was saying seriously when he'd heard this before, but even so, she was in pain.
"I'm sorry." Jim apologized.
"It's okay." Bird answered, "I mean you never really liked him anyways, right? So you'd probably be happy to know he's out of my life."
"I never said that." He was quick to defend.
Though she wasn't necessarily wrong.
In truth he didn't care much for her bond with Oswald, though he didn't hold the resentment and jealously over it that Harvey had -had when they were together.
Jim had just accepted it.
That Oswald had been her best friend and a very big part of her life before he was a part of Bird's life and he didn't think he'd ever live to see that change.
"But that's what you're thinking, isn't it?" She pushed, "That if he's not in my life, then he's no longer a part of our lives and you can't deny that sounds good to you, right?"
Our lives
Despite the fact the statement was jabbed at him like an insult, he was happy she was still thinking of them that way.
As a single unit. A couple.
Since he'd killed Mario, he had no idea what she considered them to be.
And the longer she'd stayed separated from him, the more Jim started to lose hope that they could ever go back.
But now she was talking to him, opening up, even if she was hostile.
"I don't want to fight." Jim honestly said.
"Good." Bird laughed with a hopeless in her tone, "Because I'm all out of fight."
Strolling up to a conversation he didn't realize the depth of, Bullock was in all work mode as he informed his partner, "Seems like most of the cult and symbols we've found are concentrated in the narrows and rougher parts of town."
Bird pulled her eyes away from Jim.
They still needed to talk, to have conversations she wasn't ready for -but it would have to wait.
He was working a case and that often took more precedence in their lives than she cared for.
"Not surprising." Jim answered Bullock, "Most of these pictures were taken in warehouses and abandoned buildings."
"You think this is how they're communicating?" Bullock asked, "Announce where the next meeting is going to be held and how the group moves around?"
"Duh." Bird answered in a deadpan voice.
"I wasn't asking you, crazy eyes." Bullock retorted with the nickname he'd given her years ago.
"I think we're looking at more than one group." Jim cut in, "Probably multiple chapters."
"Like the Elks?" Bullock could have laughed, "And Dwight's the Grand Poobah or something?"
Bird cleared her throat, the argument between Bullock and Jim fading deeper in the background. She reached up and held onto the base of her neck, having trouble breathing.
She tried to ignore it, to focus on what was going on and what was being said.
Jim was arguing that they could be looking at a cult much bigger than they'd originally thought; Bullock claimed they were looking at fifty whackadoos tops.
It felt like her tongue and throat were swollen, like the air just wasn't getting to where it needed to go.
She didn't know Lucius had joined them at first and was only vaguely aware of the explanation he'd given about the type of power they'd need for reanimation causing a power surge.
He'd already pinned down a location for them and Bullock announced he was off to assemble the strike force.
"Bird?"
Hearing her name refocused her mind and even though her vision was starting to blur around the edges she could see Jim clearly in front of her.
"We're going to stop them." He assured her, "You need to stay here, okay? It's where you'll be the safest…"
His voice trailed off and he looked down to where she was clutching onto his arm.
There was a confused expression on her face like he was speaking in a language she couldn't understand.
"Bird?"
He repeated.
"Okay." She nodded, hoping it was an appropriate response to whatever he'd just said.
"I have to go." Jim said, before promising they'd talk more when he got back.
"Go." Bird repeated back.
Jim looked back to where she had a hold of his arm and she followed his gaze.
Letting go with an apology, she shook her head, feeling dizzy.
She hadn't even realized she'd grabbed onto him.
He said something else that didn't pierce through the muffled ringing in her ears before he left.
"Bird?" Lucius questioned, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." She answered with a huff, "Why?"
"Well…" He drew out the word, "You seem very short of breath for someone who's standing still."
He started towards her with his arms out, intending to guide her to a chair, "Perhaps you should sit down."
"I'm fine!" She snapped, smacking his hands away from her and storming off, leaving a terribly confused and rather concerned Lucius behind.
•••
Bird nearly tripped over her own feet in a scramble to get away from the eyes of anyone at the GCPD.
There was a pain behind her right knee she couldn't discern the cause of; her right foot was tingling like she'd sat on it for too long.
She fell against the closed door she'd reached, her usually steady hands shaking so bad she could barely get the door open.
Finally she found herself separated from any prying eyes; in a room cluttered with file cabinets.
She leaned against the closest one, pinned her eyes shut and tried to catch her breath.
Only the more she tried to pull air in the more her chest felt tight.
Like someone had reached inside and pinched her heart; relentless and not letting go.
The tight, pinched feeling grew until it hurt so badly between her shoulder blades she could barely stand.
"Bird?"
Lee called out as she opened the door to the room and found her gasping for air. A fish out of water.
She'd came out of her office and spotted Bird stumbling down a hallway of the station, luckily she decided to follow her.
"Lee-" Bird choked on the name, coughed and sputtered.
Her chest hurt so bad she could barely even see.
Immediately recognizing what was going on, Lee rushed towards her, "Bird, you have to try and slow your breathing."
"Lee-" Bird repeated with another gasp as she clutched onto her own chest and sputtered, "I… I think… I think I'm having a heart attack-"
"No you're not." Lee kept her voice steady, "You're having a panic attack. The only way through this is to control your breathing."
"No." Bird gasped.
Stubborn and argumentative; even in her weakened state.
Between her fits and gasps for air she explained, "I haven't had a panic attack since I was a teenager."
"Well, guess what?" Lee's brows raised, "You're having one right now."
Bird stumbled back against the another filing cabinet and slid down to the floor, cursing the entire time and cringing from the jab of the drawer handles digging into her back.
Lowering down with her, Lee kept her voice calm and steady, "Alright, I want you to take a deep breath."
"I'm trying!" Bird's voice was hoarse.
"Breath in." Lee coached, "For five seconds, I'll count."
Waiting until Bird nodded in agreement, Lee began, "1,2,3,4,5."
"Now hold that breath for 1…2…." Lee soothed, "Now exhale for 5, 4, 3, 2, 1."
It took several tries of breathing to the 5-2-5, but finally Bird's breathing had returned to a somewhat normal state.
What she was the most thankful for was that the pressure inside her chest had released.
She moved her upper body, trying to stretch out the tense muscles in her back and shoulders as best she could.
"Thank you." Bird quietly said finally looking up to where Lee was still sitting on the floor with her, "I'm okay now. You can go."
"Are you dismissing me?" Lee questioned.
"No. I'm just…" Bird's voice was choppy, her breathing started to hasten again and Lee could see her eyes kept darting to the open door she'd came in through.
"Not used to people seeing you break down?"
Lee guessed as she got up and shut the door.
"Pretty much." Bird cleared her throat.
Instead of leaving like she'd been told to do, Lee sat back down on the floor, this time further away from Bird since she was no longer actively having a panic attack.
"Hmm." Lee let out a small hum of a breath and leaned her head back against the section of exposed wall she was sitting against.
"What?" Bird asked staring at her.
"I think I needed a minute away from everyone too." She answered without opening her eyes.
"Glad I could be of service." Bird said, her voice was gravely.
Not from anger, but with still trying to breath normally.
Lee looked at her with a half-smile on her face.
"May I ask what happened that brought that on?" She questioned.
"I don't know." Bird bit down hard on the side of her tongue and shook her head.
When she was a teenager and had panic attacks the course of treatment had been medication prescribed by the doctor -along with keeping a set schedule, making sure to get plenty of sleep and avoiding caffeine.
She'd been off the meds for years now and since Mario's death, she'd barely been sleeping and surviving off strong coffee.
"Probably too much caffeine." Bird added.
Lee nearly snorted, "You could have just said you didn't want to tell me."
"I'm serious." Bird seemed offended, "When I got panic attacks as a teenager, I had to avoid caffeine-"
"Right." Lee agreed, "Stimulants are a trigger for it, sure, but you didn't just spiral into a full blown panic attack because you had one too many coffees."
The room went quiet.
"I've been wanting to talk to you." Lee started by pulling in a deep breath, "To thank you, actually. For being kind to me."
Now it was Bird who laughed, "Kindness? Yeah, that's what I'm known on the streets for. My kindness."
"You can try to laugh and shrug it off, but I mean it. I was in such a dark place that day you came by my house. God…" Lee breathed, "I really gave my blessing to have someone killed."
"Not just someone." Bird corrected, "To have Jim killed."
"I know." Lee looked down, her face taking on a shadow of shame, "I don't know, I mean maybe I gave the okay on it knowing you'd never let it happen? Or at least that's what I'd like to believe? I don't know… but you were right. That day when you came to see me. You really were there to save me. You didn't owe me anything, but you gave me the chance to take what I'd done back."
Lee didn't say it out loud, but the truth was she'd cried herself to sleep that night.
Not only for her pain and the feelings of losing Mario still being so strong she felt like she'd been cut open, but also at what she'd almost become.
A murderer.
Even if it wasn't going to be her finger on the trigger, the burden would have still been in her head and heart. Blood still would have stained her hands.
"Yeah, well, you've lost enough." Bird empathized, "I didn't think you deserved to lose yourself too."
"You lost him too." Lee affirmed.
She'd spent so much time encased in all her own pain that sometimes she had a hard time remembering she wasn't the only one who'd lost family that day.
"I am so sorry." She continued trying to swallow down the lump in her throat, "I just... "
Nodding towards the door leading out into the rest of the police station, "No one gets it, you know? Almost everyone out there looks at me like I'm a kid throwing a tantrum or something -ever since the day of Mario's funeral-"
Her voice trailed off.
Bird had been there that day too. Witnessed her very public breakdown; her outcries for Jim to be arrested for Mario's murder.
"It's not fair." Lee cringed as she said it; one of the most childish phrases in the English language.
Here she was complaining of the way everyone was looking at her since the outburst and she said something like that.
When she looked back to where Bird was sitting she could read the expression on her face.
Life isn't fair
Lee wanted to tell someone how she was scared that losing Mario was changing her.
That just earlier that day she'd injected someone who was being interrogated with sodium pentothal to get them to tell the truth.
A move that while effective, was highly illegal -not to mention completely unethical.
Something she'd have probably turned someone else in for doing, but now here she was acting out.
She wasn't even entirely sure why she'd done it, but she'd felt like in that moment she'd taken some of her power back.
Felt a little less helpless about everything going on in the world around her than she did the day before; and maybe what scared her the most was she liked the way that power felt.
But she didn't.
She couldn't bring herself to say that out loud.
So, instead, she pulled in a deep breath and reasoned, "Life isn't fair, I know. But… I always believed that you get back what you put in. And I've always tried to do the right thing…"
"Yeah." Bird cleared her throat, unsure of how Lee helping her through a panic attack had morphed into a counseling session for Jim's ex.
"I'm don't think those rules apply in Gotham."
Lee let a out sigh, a little too quiet for Bird to hear from where she was sitting.
Everyone did that, she thought to herself, talked about Gotham like it wasn't just a city, but more as if it were a living, breathing entity.
Maybe they all saw the city as something she didn't -at least not yet.
"Everything is such a mess." Bird ran her fingers through her hair, "I've lived here my whole life and I don't ever remember things being this bad."
Lee watched the other woman's body language, the expression on her face until she pointed out, "You say like you're guilty… like it's your fault?"
"Lately I just keep thinking how things were so much better when Falcone was running the show." Bird admitted with a laugh.
She'd found herself coming to that conclusion and she'd still run her biological father from the city.
Bird looked at Lee with a thoughtful expression.
Lee shifted under the intensity of her gaze; she felt like she were on display.
"He wanted me to take over when he stepped down. And you know what? I think I'd have been good at it too." Bird's voice lowered as she spoke, like this was a secret she'd been guarding, "Sometimes I think about what I'd do, what decision I'd make if I got a do-over. I could go back."
Lee stared back at her.
She could see it now; this was part of the allure that was Bird; sharing something that made them feel bonded, whether it was a secret or not, she had a way of making it feel like it was a privilege.
She didn't want anything from her, Lee couldn't even say she'd ever really wanted to be friends with her and yet here she was being drawn in, unable to stop it even while being entirely aware of what was happening.
Bird had stopped talking very abruptly, a cherry picked space in the conversation to let the room fall into silence.
To leave the other person wanting, no, needing to know more.
It seemed so intentional, yet Lee wasn't sure that Bird even realized she'd done it.
"Would you?" Lee couldn't help but ask, "Make the same decision?"
"I don't know." Bird said. Her shoulders slouched with a shrug and Lee was struck by just how human Bird looked when she admitted, "I just wanted to be happy."
It sounded so simple, but Bird had wondered at times if she was even capable of it.
It wasn't something that just seemed to come naturally.
Instead of a feeling that accompanied the good times, she'd felt more like happiness had been some unreachable destination. Something she'd been trying to work towards but never quite got there.
"I think that's what we all want-" Lee empathized, barely getting the words out before the door to the room opened.
"Thought I saw you come in here." One of the uniformed officers said to Lee before he glanced over at Bird and then between them with a questioning look.
"Yes?" Lee asked as she got to her feet from where she'd been sitting.
"They got there in time." He explained, "Jerome's body should be here in a few minutes. They need you in your office."
"Okay." Lee felt her lab coat pocket for her phone, wondering if anyone had tried to call her.
"He's faceless." The officer couldn't resist being the first one to give the news.
"Wait, what?" Lee became much more focused on the conversation, "Faceless?"
"Yeah." He looked a little too eager, "One of his psychotic followers-"
He drew a circle around his face with his finger while making a sawing like noise with his mouth.
Lee stared back at him with a stunned expression and he nodded.
"Hey!" Bird called after him as he started to leave the room, when he turned back she asked, "Is Jim back yet?"
"No." He shook his head, "He and Bullock went after the face-thief."
Lee turned back to where Bird was just starting to stand up.
"You okay?" She questioned.
Bird leaned over while in the process of dusting her jeans off as she peered back at her from under her lashes and repeated the same question back, "Are you okay?"
Lee pulled in a deep breath before slowly exhaling with a nod of solidarity.
She wasn't okay.
None of them were.
•••
Bird pulled her phone from her pocket as she walked through the police station, when she saw it was Oswald calling she abruptly ignored the call and tucked her phone away.
She had no doubt he was calling to apologize.
She imagined that her now ex-best friend had cooled off since the interview earlier that morning and had now realized how terribly he'd treated her.
She started to reach for her phone again but stopped and took a moment to remind herself that they were over.
That for quite a while now, he'd been acting more foe than friend to her and hadn't been acting like the Oswald she'd have laid her life down for without hesitation.
Like Ivy did while tending to her plants, Bird needed to do the same with her life. Cut out of the bad parts before it killed her.
"No." She said aloud under her breath.
They were done. Officially over as far as she was concerned and no amount of apologizing from him would make this right.
She'd already made the decision to cut him out of her life.
Amputate their friendship like an infected limb that would eventually kill the whole body.
Doing her best to push thoughts of Oswald from her mind, Bird continued on her search for Lucius.
After all, he'd witnessed the very beginning of the panic attack she'd had and she wanted to assure him she was okay.
The last thing she needed was word getting back to Bruce and Alfred that she might be coming apart at the seams.
A few more days… maybe another week or two at her hotel and she'd get herself pulled together.
Or at least that's what she'd been telling herself.
She just needed to find Lucius and convince him she was fine and there was nothing to worry about; plus she vaguely remembered being somewhat rude to him and maybe even slapping his arms away from her.
Thought she couldn't be sure.
Everything from before the panic attack until she'd started to come out of it was hazy.
A fuzzy memory.
Inaudible noises.
Pictures blurred in water.
As it was, she was still trying to remember what Jim had said to her before he left the police station.
She couldn't remember, but knowing Jim, he'd more than likely told her to stay there.
When her search for Lucius didn't yield any results, she headed towards the hallway where Lee's office was located. The cold storage room was also that way and she considered maybe Lucius was where they'd brought Jerome's body.
Just as Bird reached the doorway she felt her phone buzz again. This time from a voicemail.
She pulled her phone from her pocket and started to play the message before she could stop herself.
The first thing she heard on the recording was the sound of glass shattering.
Anxiety flared up but quickly settled when she heard Oswald's voice.
"Nothing?!" Her best friend's voice was painfully shrill blaring through the small speaker on her phone as she clutched it too tightly to her ear.
In the background she could hear Gabe's voice, "Not at Tommy Bones or any of The Duke's hideouts."
"Shhh!"
Oswald dismissed before yelling into the phone, "Bird, Bird?"
Seeming to remember the call had went to voicemail, the urgency in his voice increased tenfold.
"Bird, listen to me. They took him! Someone took Ed!" He gasped for air, "You need to help me find him. Call… everyone! They have him somewhere! Call me back as soon as you get this. He's in danger! Once we have Ed back; we'll kill them! We'll kill them all-"
Bird didn't bother listening to the rest of the message.
What part of they're through didn't he understand? Or was he just so distracted by everything else that morning that he didn't even hear her.
Or maybe he hadn't take the break-up seriously.
Jim didn't seem to believe that Bird had really called it quits with her best friend for a second.
Slamming her phone down on the metal exam table in front of her, she rubbed her eyes with her free hand.
When she picked her phone back up she saw something wet on it.
Red.
It was blood.
Her brows lowered and her gaze moved over to where there was more drops of blood and a large roll of gauze.
Her senses prickled to the danger around her.
Something she hadn't picked up on sooner because she'd been to distracted by Oswald.
Damn it, she thought to herself, her ex-best friend was probably still going to be the death of her, even if they weren't talking.
The click of the door shutting behind her seemed to be amplified in the otherwise silent room.
Bird spun around to see the person who'd trapped her.
Who was now holding her at gun point from the service weapon he'd taken from the officer he'd killed.
Her eyes widened.
Missing his face or not, Bird instantly recognized him.
Green eyes peering out at her from between layers of poorly patch-worked bloodstained gauze; a mess of ginger hair mostly standing on end.
"Jerome-"
His name left her lips with the last of her breath.
Like the air had been knocked out of her.
Jerome narrowed his eyes at her as he readjusted his grip on the gun.
"Jerome?"
He repeated back.
His voice was deeper -scratchier than she remembered.
Bird's brows lowered.
Not that she'd expected to ever cross paths with him again, but if she had she'd have expected him to more of a reaction to seeing her.
It was only moments before that he'd woke up, breathed the breath of life once again.
And proceeded to promptly murder the cop who'd been in the room.
Then he'd managed to find some gauze to try and wrap his head up.
He had no idea what had happened to him but the air hitting the open wound was surprisingly painful.
He'd just finished with that when someone had walked into the room.
His first thought had been the same as with the cop; kill.
But then he'd paused, there was something familiar about the brunette.
He couldn't recall her name; he couldn't even remember his own name until he'd heard it from her.
"Yeah…" His head cocked to the side, "Jerome. Sounds about right."
Bird's eyes cut over to the door.
From the way he was staring at her, she was quickly catching onto the fact that while his body might have been reanimated and was up walking around -that didn't mean his brain had caught up yet.
Maybe his motor skills we're sluggish too?
She looked down to the dead body of the officer on the floor and realized apparently not delayed enough, seeing as how Jerome had won that fight.
Bird let out a defeated sigh -so much for trying to make a run for it.
•••
A/N - Thank you to: AGBreads, SmellYourScentForMiles, Shadow knight1121, HarleyIsQueenx, Brooke, Adela, Katniss789, Havana, Iamskittles, Raging Raven and to the Guests who all left a review
I hope you all liked the chapter. Thank you for reading!
I know it took too long to get this chapter finished and posted -but hopefully it was worth the wait.
And with any luck the next won't take near as long.
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