#jim gordon

Hi Everyone! Sorry this chapter took so long to come out. The last month was crazy for me, but January looks like things are slowing down so that should mean more time for me to write. (If I don’t procrastinate) So, as some of you know, I lost my tag list, so if you were not tagged, please let me know by either messaging my or sending me an ask. Thank you everyone who has been patent with me and are following Broken Angels, your support means the world to me! If you have any questions, comments, or suggestions, please let me know. And just to let you know, even if i dont respond, i read every comment or ask that comes in, and they always make my day! Anyway, hope ya’ll enjoy! Peace!!

The moments following the explosion were a chaotic mess. At first, they thought the explosion was part of a new fear toxin. But, when no one showed any symptoms, well, that’s when people started to freak out. If it wasn’t the fear toxin, then what was it?

The first cameraman to recover was from GNN. The sound was nothing but static and the picture a little shaky, but Gotham and the rest of the world watched, gaping at the scene that unfolded. The giant windows of Gotham Museum, which had always been considered one of the most beautiful in North America, with its stain glass pigments and unique cuts, were shattered from the inside out. Buildings surrounding the museum were swaying dangerously. The camera spanned out, allowing viewers to witness the crowds of people struggling to pick themselves up. The sight of the destroyed buildings, glass and wreckage strewn about, cars totaled, silenced the horrified audience. The streets of Gotham, from that one camera lens that had miraculously survived the blast, looked like a war zone. The world watched as Gotham reeled from whatever caused the blast, uncertain of how to react. They saw what looked like blue wisps rain down slowly from the buildings, gently running down whatever it touched before pooling on the ground, vanishing into the ground.

Slowly, sound started to filter through the nearly broken mics, instead of static, it sounded more like a garbled mess. As if someone was speaking through a bad connection. For a brief moment, the camera frame caught a group of students, most appeared to be in a daze, as if they couldn’t understand what happened, and one girl in particular was well on the way to full blown hysteria. It caught the dazed looks of the other students before swinging around back to the front of the museum, catching a figure stumble through the door.

~

The pain in Jason’s head was nothing compared to the emotional terror he was experiencing. His pixie, His sister was in the building with a lunatic that took pleasure in the terror of others. His tiny, sweet sister, who couldn’t hurt anyone in the slightest without feeling guilty, was in the same building as that straw-stuffed coward. In the building that just exploded!

He needed to get up. His sister needed him! She needed him, damit! But he couldn’t move. It felt like ever muscle in his body had been electrocuted. But wasn’t a numbing pain, no, he could feel everything. From the layers of grim that was coating him, to the scratches, to his spazzing muscles, to that strange, cool sensation that rolled off him. But. He. Couldn’t. Move!

“…ood? Red Hood, can you hear me?” someone asked, though the voice was muffled as a face came into view. Nightwing’s face became clear, though he was covering in dust and debris as much as he was.

“N’wing, I can’t move.”

“Figures, a few of others are down too, Bat’s included!”

“Nettie. I gotta get … you gotta get,” Jason said, struggling to sit up, stifling the curse as he force his muscles to work. He needed to get Marinette out of there!

Before Dick could answer or attempt to persuade him to stay down , a shout drew everyone’s attention to the front of the museum. Dozens of heads turned to watch a figure emerge from the broken building. Stumbling down the giant stairs of the museum was a teen boy carrying a limp body.

“Someone help, please!” the boy shouted, frantically making his way down the broken steps. As they drew closer, others could see the haunted look in the boy’s eyes. They could see the fear, the concern, the complete panic as the person he was carrying began to shake.

Oh God,

Jason watched as Commissioner Gordon limped towards the two, taking the girl from the boy.

Please no,

“Did she inhale any of the fear toxin?”

Anyone,

“No, s-sh-she was injected with the serum.” The boy said, “Please, you have to make sure Nettie’s ok!” he added tears pouring down his face as a set of medics rushed over to look him over.

But,

“Get me an antidote, NOW!” Gordon barked, gently cradling the girl as he shouted orders.

Her!

At the mention of Nettie’s name, something sparked inside Jason. The pounding in his seemed to double, the only thing he could hear was the blood pulsating through his skull. Everything sharpened into focus into startling clarity as his vision narrowed. That was HIS sister! His sister that was shaking in Gordon’s arms. His sister that looked dead when she was carried out of the museum. His sister that was cry and screaming incoherently because of the nightmare Scarecrow forced her to live. Blood lust tore through his veins with such an intensity that, even in his rage filled mind, scared him. The voices in his head were torn between going in there and killing the monster that dared touch what was HIS to protect, or tearing HIS sunshine from Gordon’s and getting her as far away from here as possible.  The latter almost won, but one part of his brain, the logical, sensible side that was magically still working, reminded him that he was Red Hood right now, not Jason. He couldn’t just go to her. Doing so would not only put her under more stress or shock, but it would also paint a bigger target on her back. And he could not, would not, allow any one to use her in order to get to him.

Looking over at her, Jason watched as Gordon held Nettie close, allowing her to cry as he did his best to calm her down. Watching the two of them, he and the voices both agreed that she would be safe with Gordon until he was done. Right now, he had a scarecrow to unstuff. And the strawman wouldn’t be coming out again for a very, very long time.

~

The soft stroke of the brush across the canvas was the only noise in the room as the artist brought the image to life. Just as his ancestors had done before him. Though many would say the image was too clean, too perfect, he would disagree. Perfection is what his family strove for. Perfection in all aspects of themselves. Though they had sadly, not been perfect for some generations. Something vital was missing, all due to a curse, a restriction placed on them. Yet the family still strove for perfection in all aspects, and he was the perfect heir. All he needed was the last piece of the puzzle, and then, he would reach a level of perfection none in his family had reached in generations, not since the Fall.

Stroke, stroke, dip, stroke. Each stroke was perfect. Ever placement, deliberate. And then he felt it. A slight shift in the atmosphere, powerful, wild, raw, and . . . unharnessed. He missed a stroke. The line went off course, destroying the painting, tainting the perfection of it. A knock was the only warning before the door was opened and a young man slipped in.

“Sir, we have activity. It’s the same reading as before, but this time it’s much stronger scale.”

“Did you track it?”

“We did. They’re in Gotham, America.”

“… Start the preparations. We leave immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

The individual stood in place for a moment, savouring the fading feeling of the power, an almost impeccable smile on his lips.

“I finally found you, little angle, and in a place of demons. Quite … intriguing.”

@vivilakitty@miukiiu@remingtongrimm@mystery-5-5@paradoxal-occurance@monsteralikat19@ash-amg-blog@naclychilli@unabashedbookworm@drarryismylife@imanerddealwith@wingardianleviosa@nanakeid@ranger-gothamite@dast218@miraculousbelladonna@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry@xxmadamjinxx@sassy-spocko@officiallyathiana@darkthunder1589@casual-darkness@crazylittlemunchkin@queen-annaira@you-will-never-know-how-i-think@emilytopaz@a-complete-fool@luciferge@sonif50@calliemaricats@gimme-more-caffeine@wavydeena@mikantsume@hypnosharkrebeldreamer@persephonescat@mermaidofthelost@elspethshadow@marichat4ever001@bluerosette23@jeminiikrystal@myazael@noirdots@mooshoon@throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen@starwindmaden@indecisive-mess-named-me@marinettepotterandplagg@daminette4life@fertileleaf@trickstermiraculous@witchsblackfox@rouge-fandoms@fontegagrilledcheese@crytallized@my-name-is-michell@asheanomhominem@ladybug-182@ayuchan07@razzledazzle247@nerdy-anime-trash-27@todaylillypads@emjrabbitwolf@theatomicstudentlady2@18-fandoms-unite-08@justconfusedperiod@rosesgonerogue@harukishi81@rianoel@a-star-wtih-a-human-name@ace-aro-agender@thequeenofpotatoeunicornss@mvaree@redfightingdragon@grimlockprime222@whomthefyck@kazjaurelia@hecate-hallow@two-faced-biach@kiara-rose-blackthorn@fandom-fandomm@clumsy-owl-4178@calvin1394@liadreyar-dragneel@shyestofhearts@particularlygeeky@spicybelladonna@constancetruggle@mjisntme@ghostcryptid@fridayfirefly@tinybrie@friedchickening@queencommonsense@driftingmoonlitpetals@fiendsangelical@synnesstra@tbehartoo@frostymoon11@persephonebutkore@goggles-mcgee@soulsinsolarem@bee-wrecker@reyna-avila-ramirez-alreanaldo@doggiediva13@caffeinetheory@miraculous789@thebookish3lf@lady13bug@slytherinhquinn@ethelphantom@virgil-is-a-cutie@charlietheepic7@nixadmos@castielsofficialtoothbrush@heaven428@krispydefendorpolice@northernbluetongue@mindfulmagics@2sunchild2@zalladane@severlyenchantedwonderland@zazzlejazzle@thebananathatwrites@schrodingers25@punstoppablechatnoir@resignedcatservant@kakashixobito@thatoneblogyoufollow@urbanpineapplefarmer@sturchling@acoursedprophetwithasmoothie@justafanwarrior@nataladriena9@domena151@ilovefluffbutsmutisalsogreat@xgxmxtx@aestheticpoetic@motherly-type@trainflavor@queenmj10@captainartsypants@unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine

Hi everyone! So here’s the next part of Broken Angels, and hopefully it answers some questions. I want to thank everyone whose like, commented, and reblogged my story. Reading your comments and theories is always an enjoyment. I tried to tag everyone but if i missed you, let me know. Again if you have any suggestions, questions, or comments let me know! Hope ya’ll enjoy! Peace!

Alfred was not strangers to the sight injures. He was the family’s personal medic, after all. So yes, he had seen his fair share of broken bones, bruising, slices, and even exposed organs. His boys had always been reckless and payed for their mistakes, but they knew how to take them. Injures where part of their job. But nothing could have prepared him for Miss Marinette. When he first saw her face, he felt his heart break a little. But it was her eyes that truly made him angry. Not just because of the discolouration, but for the haunted look that lay buried beneath the blue. A look Alfred remembered seeing every day in the mirror for years after the war. She had the eyes of a survivor. Of someone who had seen death up close. They were the eyes of a soldier.

When she had locked eyes with him, Alfred couldn’t help the strong feeling of … connection wash over him. When she blinked, breaking the connection, Alfred couldn’t help but feel as if he past a test. Between the two of them, Alfred and Jason had been able to convince Marinette to take a shower to relax her muscles, and she consequently ended up on one of Jason’s sweaters.

Aside from bringing them some refreshments and an ice pack for Marinette’s swelling, Alfred had left the two children alone.

When it was discover Miss Marinette was a meta, Alfred had been ready to jump to her defence, only to be pleasantly surprised, though slightly shocked when Damian had spoken up for her. That surprise had turned to pride when Bruce allowed her to stay, though she would have whether he agreed or not. Alfred was not about to allow the girl out of his sight. But the pride turned to dread when Marinette’s voice cut through the room.

All attention was drawn to the door. Marinette stood just inside the frame, her hair disheveled,  falling freely around her face. One hand was rubbing the sleep from her left eye. Her borrowed sweater dwarfed her small frame, the hem reaching almost past her knees while the sleeves where clutched in her hands, preventing them from falling. Ignoring the bruising, she looked adorable, but Alfred could not ignore the bruising. From the looks of it, the rest of the family couldn’t either. When she opened her eyes, Alfred could have sworn that he heard a growl come from Dick. The shock on their faces quickly disappeared into silent, building rage.

“Jason, what’s going on?” Marinette asked, her voice heavy with sleep, but alert enough to know something was off. They were silent for too long.

“ … Family meeting.”

“Ok, but what’s a meta? And why were you talking about it?” She asked again. Her voice was steady, but Alfred could detect an underlying current of panic that was beginning to rise.

“Meta is short for metahuman.”

“And?”

“ … and metas are different from ordinary people.  They have gifts, powers that set them apart. And while some people, Bruce included, have issues with them, he doesn’t hate them. He’s just … cautious.” Jason explained. “Reason being is that Gotham has a way of … bringing out the worst in people. And the knowledge that they are above normal sometimes makes them think they are above the law.”

“Ok.”

“ … And the reason we where talking about them was because I … told them about your gift.” Jason said, and Alfred could pinpoint the exact moment Marinette realized what Jason was referring too. “And before you yell at me, Nettie, just … I’m sorry. I … I know I should have asked you before I said anything. And I know I had told you not to tell anyone about. And you have every right to be mad at me for this. But I trust them.”

Marinette had looked ready to bolt from the room the entire time Jason was talking. The panic that had flashed through her only to be surpassed immediately was both impressive and concerning. The ability to be able have such a tight control on ones emotions took years of practice. She only paused at the last three words Jason had said. Her eyes flashed from Jason to the rest of the family, never holding their gaze for more then a few seconds before jumping to the next. When her gaze came to Alfred, he again felt that slight sense of connection. When she moved on, the feeling of passing a test came back. When she returned to Jason, her body was still pulled taunt, but she had lost the frightened rabbit look.

“ … If you trust them, then that’s enough for me.”

Alfred couldn’t help the smile that came at the sight of Jason visible relaxing at her words. He also didn’t miss the signs of the tension the rest of the family melt away.

“Perhaps now would be a good time for introductions.” Alfred said, subtly reminding the boys of their manners.

“Of course. My apologizes miss. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Bruce Wayne. This is my oldest, Richard Grayson.”

“Just call me Dick. It’s an honour to meet you.”

“My second youngest, Timothy Drake.”

“Pleasure to meet you. And Tim’s fine.”

“My youngest, Damian.”

Unsurprisingly, Damian gave her a polite nod, but nothing else.

“And you’ve already met Alfred.”

“Miss,” Alfred said in acknowledgement, bowing slightly.

“Hello, I’m Marinette. Th … thank you. For having me.” She said, sending them a sweet smile.

“If you’re family to Jason, you’re family to us.” Bruce assured her. “Though I do have to ask, just so we can understand the situation better. What exactly is your ability and what does it allow you to do?” he asked, giving her small, encouraging smile.

Everyone, Damian and Alfred included, gave Marinette their full attention. For a moment, it looked like she might leave or at the very least refuse to say. But an encouraging nudge from Jason had her taking a breath before returning her focus back on them.

“I, it’s kinda hard to explain. I’ve … I’ve always been able to ‘see’ what kind of person someone is. Whether I can trust them or not. That one is always on. I can’t turn it off.”

“And the other one?” Bruce probed, though he waited patiently for her to answer.

“I… with the other one. With what happened … with Mr. Dent. I . . . it comes on at random. It’s … like seeing what their soul looks like. Like I’m seeing who, and what they truly are. But it hasn’t happened since the night that …” she said, trailing off at the end. And Alfred could only guess she was referring to the night that she and Jason were separated.

“So you can see someone for who they are?” Dick asked, thankfully noticing where her mind was going, attempting to distract her.

“Yes.”

“Can you do me? I’m honestly curious how it works.”

“I … I don’t…” she began to say, foundering to come up with an excuse. But Dick cut her off.

“Please?” he asked, giving her his ‘puppy-dog-eyes’.

“… You … You carry a lot on your shoulders. A lot of baggage. You … have a tendency to look back on your regrets and you don’t let yourself move on. You always ask the ‘what if?’ You strive and strive to prove yourself. To make up for something. You cherish the family you have now, but you’re afraid that one day, its all gonna fall apart. So you smile through the pain, because your afraid that if you stop, then everything will disappear.”

As Marinette spoke, Dick’s eager smile slowly faded as his eyes widened in shock.

“But, there’s always hope shining. You also have a big heart. Some say it’s too big. You believe what you are doing is right with everything you are. You love your family to the point where it hurts. You’re trustworthy.”

For a few, painfully long moment, no one did anything. Dick just stared at the girl who had, without any back story or reference whatsoever, summed up his life in a few sentences. Told him fears and insecurities that no one knew.  Slowly, a smile spread across his face, lighting up his blue eyes.

“ … It’s official. I think I’m gonna like you.”

@mystery-5-5@captainmac6@you-will-never-know-how-i-think@mochinek0@sonif50@zalladane@thebananathatwrites@schrodingers25@kuroko26@miraculousbelladonna@souleaterlicestein@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry@ijustwannabecanadian@ellerahs@ranger-paladinikoe@xxmadamjinxx@derpingrainbow@sassy-spocko@vixen-uchiha@mjisntme@iggy-of-fans@violentbisexualprophecywriter@valeks-princess@crazylittlemunchkin@redscarlet95@alexzandria-747@ayuchan07@whomthefyck@constancetruggle@rikku052@kurogaya913@shizukiryuu@spicybelladonna@zazzlejazzle@luciferge@mewwitch@emotionalsupportginger@grunklestantheman@my-name-is-michell@northernbluetongue@chez-pezeater@shamefullove@goggles-mcgee@gingerdaile@zebrabaker@tinybrie@bluefiredemon@particularlygeeky@2sunchild2@tbehartoo@god-is-dead-and-so-am-i@shyestofhearts@darkthunder1589@fridayfirefly@lunar-wolf-warrior@ladylb@vivilakitty@ghostcryptid@casual-darkness@yamadochie@thatrandomfandomsgirl@mindfulmagics@myriad-of-passionate-pettiness@violatiger8@seraphichana@synnesstra@friedchickening@kiara-rose-blackthorn@driftingmoonlitpetals@nataladriana9@ginamarie1512@etheralentity@tritaledkitsune@ki117h3dr4g0n@throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen@saphiraazure2708@ivette0712@calvin1394@liadreyar-dragneel@iglowinggemma28@resignedcatservant@creator-josie@lysslovsanime@fiendsangelical@sam-spectra@clumsy-owl-4178@elspethshadow@imspectralboiii@forestmoon11@mooshoon@littleredrobinhoodlum@eliza-bich@dnsakina@hypnosharkrebeldreamer@two-faced-biatch@queencommonsense@poshplumcot@melicmusicmagic@graduatedmelon@rydellakurancarson@huntressofthenight0516@ranger-gothamite@mortally-strange-candy@tog84@thecatnipmademedoit@nerdy-anime-trash-27@maude-zarella@kristycocopop@tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff@mariae2900@simplysslytherin@miraculous-simmer7@7-sage-7@puffapproved@heredemaquam@unabashedbookworm@danielslilangel@huntressofthenight@lexysama@minty-goose@hecate-hallow@maribat-shenanegins@severelyenchantedwonderland@dnsakina@cupcakeandkisses@paradoxal-occurance@bamagirl513@littleblue5mcdork@zerotosiki@chaosace@satans-favorite-homo@celestiacq@bee-wrecker@bluerosette23@dast218@theatreandcomicfreak@noirdots@rogueptoridactyl@eve-is-the-dawn@persephonescat @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @nataladriana9@caffeinetheory@emjrabbitworlf@doggiediva13

’

Hi everyone! So here’s the next installment! Before we get started, I have to explain a few things. So, I’ve had a lot of people ask me about the batgirls and when are they going to come in. I know next to nothing about Cass and Steph, so they will not be in this story. Barbara will be coming in, but that’s going to be it for the batfam. Another thing, Hoffman is very much like me in how she tells her stories, so if it’s hard to follow, that’s kinda how I tell someone something. Anyway, thank you all for your support. If you have any questions, suggestions, or comments, let me know. I love reading all of them! I tried to tag everyone, but if I missed you, let me know. Anyway, I hope ya’ll enjoy! Peace!

When Jason arrived he had thrown the station for a loop. But his departure had thrown it straight into a mad house. He had come tearing through the station like a bull, and given the situation, it was understandable. But the way he booked in out of there after the phone call really caught everyone’s attention. He ran like Joker was chasing him. No explanation, excuses, nothing. The chatter of the office grew to the point of frenzy. While normally Gordon would have silenced the needless chatter, he didn’t. His mind was preoccupied with the information Jason had supplied before his sudden departure. While he hadn’t gone in depth, the story appeared very plausible. They needed something more, anything to confirm Jason’s story.

Something else was nagging at the back of Gordon’s mind. He knew it was important, but he couldn’t place it. He was missing something.

“Commissioner?”

What was it?

“Commissioner?”

It was something big.

“Chief?”

Something he knew.

“Chief?”

What was he missing?

“Gordon!”

The shout broke Gordon out of his thoughts. Turning his attention to the speaker, Gordon found Officer Hill holding a file, looking at him in concern.

“Are you ok Chief? You seem really out of it.” The concern in Hill’s voice was palatable.

“Yeah, just tired. Now what do ya got for me?” Gordon asked, running a hand over his eyes as a yawn escaped. Good lord, he needed coffee.

“Chief, maybe you should get some rest. Go home. Get some sleep, or at the very least go to the break room to get a couple hours. We can show you what we got later.”

“I’ll get some soon. Just show me what you got and I’ll get some sleep. I promise.”

Hill studied him for a few moments. Gordon knew he didn’t look good. His hair, which was usually neat, was disheveled, he was wearing clothes that were two days old, and he knew he had bags under his eyes. But he could look at one more file before resting. Sighing, Hill turned the folder over to him.

“We scanned that photo Jason brought and ran it through the program. Take a look for yourself.” He said as Gordon opened it. Inside was a perfect replica of Marinette, minus the bruising and red eye. Honestly, it was scary how perfectly they matched. The program, while it was fairly accurate, it had never produced a perfect prediction.

“How many times did you run it?”

“Four times. Every time it turned out the exact same.”

This was good. This was really good, but he was too tired to deal with it right now.

“I’m gonna go home for a few hours. While I’m gone, I want someone to pull the case regarding the night Jason Todd was found. I want every file from that night. I don’t care what’s it of, I want someone to comb through them for any abnormalities. I also want copies on my desk when I get back. Oh, and Hill,” Gordon said as he was leaving. “You and every other personal whose been here since yesterday, go home and get some rest.”

Gordon couldn’t remember how he got home safely. He vaguely remembered unlocking his door and falling onto the couch before sleep took him. Hours later, he woke up to his phone ringing. Fumbling for the cordless phone on the side table, Gordon rubbed the sleep from his eyes before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hey Dad. It’s Barb. I think your phone’s dead. I’ve been trying to call you for the last hour. Office said you went home. Did I wake you?”

“No, not really. I needed to get up anyway. How’s your vacation? Where are you and the girls now?”

“It’s great actually. We’re on one of the small Polynesian islands. Rach and Alisa are enjoying the sun. Dad, when you either take a vacation or retire, you need to come here. It’s the perfect place to relax.” Barbra said in a mock teasing tone. Everyone knew that Gordon never took a vacation. “But enough about that. I uh, saw something interesting on the new involving you, a very tiny girl, and a truck. Care to explain?”

Gordon couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped. Barbara, bless his little girl, was always voicing her concerns about him.

“Barbara, it was nothing. I’m fine.”

“Nothing? Dad, it was not ‘nothing’. You got hit by a car! And Madison said you left twelve hours ago after spending over thirty-six hours working on the case involving that girl.” Barbara said, a slight edge of annoyance to her voice.

“Ok, the car barely clipped, it wouldn’t even count as a hit. And as for Madison, did she give you any details?”

“Dad, Madison may be a gossip, but she knows when she can’t share information.”

“Good. Then you also know that even if I wanted to, I cannot give you any information either.”

“I know, I know. I just … I was just worried, Dad. Your fifty-five. You can’t do what you did when you were thirty. Just … don’t make yourself sick, ok?”

The worry in her voice was very evident, even over the phone. Gordon could practically see her chewing her bottom lip in frustration.

“You don’t need to remind me of my age, Honey. I’ll be fine. Stop worrying about me and enjoy your vacation.”

“But Dad.”

“Barbara.”

“Ok, ok. I’ll ignore you. I won’t spare you a passing thought for the remaining three weeks I have on my vacation. The only time I’ll think about you is when I’m looking for a tacky and overpriced souvenir for you.”

“Love you Barbara.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

~

When Gordon arrived back at the station, things where a little calmer. They were a lot calmer actually. Everyone was still working, but it wasn’t in that chaos filled way like before. A lot of the night staff were filling out reports while the morning cops who had already received their assignments where heading out. Most of the personal who were involved in Marinette’s case where all congregated around Hoffman’s desk.

“Morning Commissioner.” Hoffman’s overly cheery voice rang over the familiar buzz of the station.

“Why are you not trailing Marinette, Hoffman?”

“Mmm, ok, so I was. And before I tell you this, I did fill out a full report and it’s on your desk. So yesterday, I trailed her like you told me to. She wasn’t left behind, though she was running a late. I honestly don’t know why the teacher had her go to school. I mean that’s just wrong. The bruising is looking really bad by the way. Like, it really looks as if someone beat her. Anyways, she got to G.A. fine. Since I couldn’t follow her in, I just waited outside. It was 11:30 when G.A. let out for lunch. Marinette was waiting on the top of the stair, waiting for someone to come back. Anyway, as she was waiting, two girls from her class approached. You know, the one with the obnoxious hair and the one with the glasses? So, they started talking to her. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I’m guessing it was verbal bullying. Then Marinette said something that I’m guessing insulted them, specifically obnoxious hair, because they looked livid.” Hoffman said, her hands flying as she spoke.

“Hoffman, there better be a reason your telling me this instead of having me read the report.”

“There is and I’m getting to it. So I got out of my car cause it looked like it was gonna get physical and Marinette did not need anyone else to hit her. But before obnoxious hair could say anything, this guy comes up on his bike, breaking quick a few traffic laws, jumps off his bike yelling ‘Nettie!” I’m telling you, Marinette turned around so fast I thought she was going to get whiplash. Takes one look at the guy and launches herself off the top of the stair straight into his arms. The two were a crying mess. I’m telling you, the emotions in the atmosphere at the time made me wanna cry. I was a little too far way and he was talking too quietly for me to hear exactly what he was saying, but it sounded like he was apologizing to her. But of course, obnoxious hair went off in something in French. Whatever it was, it was bad enough to have the guy look up. When he did, I instantly recognized him as Jason Todd. And let me tell you, he flipped! He went from being an emotional mess to down right murderous! And then he started yelling at obnoxious hair in French, but then Marinette stopped him. Todd then put her on his bike and left, so I followed them. He took her to Wayne Manor and I waited outside. After a good eight hours of boredom, HQ called saying that Wayne had called them, informing them that while they appreciated the cop that was keeping an eye on Marinette, that they could go home. That Marinette would be staying there for the night with her ‘brother’. Apparently, he also said that he would be coming by later today to talk you.” Hoffman explained, her hands adding animation to her story. “And like I said, I did do an official report.”

“Hoffman,”

“Yeah Chief.”

“… Remind me to never ask to tell me a story again.”

The laughter that rang though the station made Gordon smile. He was also impressed when Hoffman joined in. At least she could take a joke.

“Sure thing, Chief.” She laughed. “Oh, um, before I forget. The social worker is in your office. She said she wanted to talk you as soon as you got in.”

“Thanks, and everyone, get back to work. You know what you’re suppose to do. And anyone who has anything for me, come in after the social worker leaves.” Gordon ordered, heading to his office as a murmuring of ‘yes chief’ filtered behind him as well as a few playful remarks to Hoffman.

Entering his office, Gordon let out a sigh. Hoffman had way too much energy in the morning.

“I see Officer Hoffman caught you with her story.” The sheer amusement in the voice had Gordon letting out an undignified snort.

Turning, Gordon met brown eyes that sparkled with amusement. Katherine Keene was a twenty-eight year old seasoned social worker. She had worked with Gordon and most of the GCPD before. She was good at her job. Effective, smart, quick witted, and an eye for detail, always picking up on things others missed.

“She doesn’t know when to stop.” Gordon said dryly, enticing a soft laugh from Katherine.

“At least she’s entertaining.”

“Sometimes a little too much. She said you wanted to talk to me?” Gordon asked, sitting down at his desk, taking a swing of his rapidly cooling coffee.

“I did. I went through the drawings, and as I said before, most of them are clothing designs. Very well done. The girl certainly has a gift for fashion. The rest of them consist of landscapes, skylines, and still life. At first I couldn’t find anything. While that is not uncommon, most of the time there is one or two pictures that stand out. These give you an idea of what to look for in the other that could pin-point what happened or a connection to someone who would know. As I said before, at first I couldn’t find anything. But after a while, I noticed something. In every single drawing, every single design, this symbol kept appearing. It blended in so well with the drawings that you would actively have to look for it in order to find it.”

“She was actively hiding it?”

“No. The human mind is very intricate, and for lack of a better term, mind boggling.  In a traumatic experience, the mind will remember everything, but it will shut the memories out in order to protect itself. But your subconscious remember things, key point if you will. Images, sounds, smells, symbols. These things are what cause triggers. If the person is artistic and what they remember is a symbol, their subconscious puts it into their artwork. Which is what Marinette did. It’s the same symbol in every drawing.”

“May I see?”

Opening her briefcase, Katherine pulled out a folder. Sliding it over the desk, she waited for Gordon to open it before continuing.

“I searched it up in the local data base and I came up with nothing. I went national, still nothing. I then went international, and can you guess what I came up with?”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. That brought up a lot of question. How can something that had such an impact on such a young girl, not be found on any data bases.” She said. “The symbol looked ancient, so I sent it a trusted friend of mine who specializes in ancient symbols. He got back to and told me that the symbol is one of the greatest mysteries of ancient history. The symbol has shown up in nearly every civilization. Ones that would’ve had no contact whatsoever with each other. No one knows what means. No one knows where it came from.”

“Any theories on it?”

“This is the really weird about it Gordon. Whenever my friend has tried to talk to his colleagues about, they all shot it down, saying it was stupid and unimportant. These are people who’s lives revolve around studying ancient symbols and what they mean and where they come from. No conspiracy theorist has ever touched this. Its as if the world is ignoring it or is not meant to see it. Only a select few are able to acknowledge it”

Gordon didn’t say anything for a few, long moments. The more he studied the symbol, the more he felt like he was looking at something that was not meant to be seen.

“Keene, I have a feeling we found something we weren’t suppose to.”

@mystery-5-5@captainmac6@you-will-never-know-how-i-think@mochinek0@sonif50@zalladane@thebananathatwrites@schrodingers25@kuroko26@miraculousbelladonna@souleaterlicestein@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry@ijustwannabecanadian@ellerahs@ranger-paladinikoe@xxmadamjinxx@derpingrainbow@sassy-spocko@vixen-uchiha@mjisntme@iggy-of-fans@violentbisexualprophecywriter@valeks-princess@crazylittlemunchkin@redscarlet95@alexzandria-747@ayuchan07@whomthefyck@constancetruggle@rikku052@kurogaya913@shizukiryuu@spicybelladonna@zazzlejazzle@luciferge@mewwitch@emotionalsupportginger@grunklestantheman@my-name-is-michell@northernbluetongue@chez-pezeater@shamefullove@goggles-mcgee@gingerdaile@zebrabaker@tinybrie@bluefiredemon@particularlygeeky@2sunchild2@tbehartoo@god-is-dead-and-so-am-i@shyestofhearts@darkthunder1589@fridayfirefly@lunar-wolf-warrior@ladylb@vivilakitty@ghostcryptid@casual-darkness@yamadochie@thatrandomfandomsgirl@mindfulmagics@myriad-of-passionate-pettiness@violatiger8@seraphichana@synnesstra@friedchickening@kiara-rose-blackthorn@driftingmoonlitpetals@nataladriana9@ginamarie1512@etheralentity@tritaledkitsune@ki117h3dr4g0n@throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen@saphiraazure2708@ivette0712@calvin1394@liadreyar-dragneel@iglowinggemma28@resignedcatservant@creator-josie@lysslovsanime@fiendsangelical@sam-spectra@clumsy-owl-4178@elspethshadow@imspectralboiii@forestmoon11@mooshoon@littleredrobinhoodlum@eliza-bich@dnsakina@hypnosharkrebeldreamer@two-faced-biatch@queencommonsense@poshplumcot@melicmusicmagic@graduatedmelon@rydellakurancarson@huntressofthenight0516@ranger-gothamite@mortally-strange-candy@tog84@thecatnipmademedoit@nerdy-anime-trash-27@maude-zarella@kristycocopop@tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff@mariae2900@simplysslytherin@miraculous-simmer7@7-sage-7@puffapproved@heredemaquam@unabashedbookworm@danielslilangel@huntressofthenight@lexysama@minty-goose@hecate-hallow@maribat-shenanegins@severelyenchantedwonderland@dnsakina@cupcakeandkisses@paradoxal-occurance@bamagirl513@littleblue5mcdork@zerotosiki@chaosace@satans-favorite-homo@celestiacq@bee-wrecker@bluerosette23@dast218@theatreandcomicfreak@noirdots@rogueptoridactyl@eve-is-the-dawn@persephonescat

Hi everyone! So, I had a lot of trouble on this chapter, but I’m finally happy with it. I hope you guys enjoy it. Thank you all again for your likes, comments and reblogs! Also, I want to say a really big thank you to everyone who encouraged me last week, but I want to say a special thank you to @you-will-never-know-how-i-think  Most of the time, i feel so pressured into putting everyone else’s needs or wants before my own that I forget I need to care for myself. Anyway, here’s the next chapter. I think I tagged everyone, but if I missed you, please let me know and I’ll try to get you next chapter. If you have any suggestions, questions, or comments, let me know! Anyway, hope ya’ll enjoy! Peace!

“She said what!?!”

The sound of Dick’s voice echoed though the room, bouncing off the walls. Jason was never more thankful for Alfred, who had insisted that they have their ‘discussion’ in a private room away from Marinette. If they hadn’t, Nettie definitely would have been woken up by Dick’s shouting. As more of the story unfolded, the more the family became agitated. When Damian added what had been said after the duo had left, they looked ready to pay the class a ‘visit’ themselves. Unsurprisingly, it was Alfred who refocused them on the issue at hand.

“I have a feeling there is more you’d like to tell us Master Jason.”

“Nettie didn’t tell me anything explicated. No names, reasons, nothing.” Jason informed them, running a hand through his hair before continuing. “She didn’t say much of anything really and that’s why I know its bad.”

The questioning looks the rest of the family caused Jason to struggle with his next words. He had never talked about Nettie before to his family, or anyone for that matter. Trying to talk about her now, even though she was very much alive, was hard. Telling them about her quirks, things only he would know about her felt almost like he was betraying her in some way. It felt wrong. Like if given half an opportunity, any information he told them would be used against both him and Nettie. That it could be used to take her away again. The more he thought about the ‘what ifs’, the more panicked he became. Shaking those thought out of his mind, he focused on the question at hand. He had to. For Nettie, he could push past this. For his sister.

“Nettie doesn’t like talking about … messy emotions or . . . bad experiences. Depending on how bad it is, if its brought up she will just shut down. Especially if someone was abusing her. It happened before. Back when I first met her. There was this guy, he was around sixteen, who lived in the same building as us. I, I was gone most of the time … working. Whenever I would see them, he was always talking with her. Whenever I would ask about him, she would shrug and just say he was a friend and change the subject. If I tried to push it, she would clam up. I didn’t like him at all. I didn’t trust him. One day I came back earlier then usual and I heard shouting, and Nettie crying. When I opened the door, that bastard was holding her by arm, hitting her.” Jason said, just the memory of it made him sick.

He could still see how small she had looked trying to pry her arm away as that scum hit her. He remembered how something inside him had snapped, the sound of something breaking as he punched the guy. How something destructive whispered in his ear, telling him he needed to protect what was his. Only for the voice to be subdued by Nettie’s pained whimpers. He settled for growling a threat at the monster before turning his attention to Nettie.

“I later found out he had been doing that for around a year before I met her. He would take what little money she had and if she didn’t have enough, he would beat her. He told her it was payment for living next to him.” Jason said, unconsciously white-knuckling the edge of the table. “That’s why I know the situation is abusive. If it wasn’t, she would tell me. This … this had to have been going on for at least a year. And if the teacher is allowing it, and placing the blame on her, Nettie definitely wouldn’t say anything. Not if it involves someone she views an adult.”

For a few, long moments, the entire family was eerily silent. They may not have even officially met this girl, but no one, no one should have to go through that. While their concern spiked to new height, they also felt a small twinge of fear. They had known individuals who had suffered less then this girl and had been driven to insanity. Had broken under the pressure. If she hadn’t broken already, she wouldn’t be far from her breaking point. That knowledge, coupled with the facts that both Jason and Damian had provided, hardened their resolve.

“She’s staying here.”

Bruce’s statement held so much conviction that even Alfred seemed impressed. Relief flooded through Jason. If Bruce was already in protective mode, then Nettie was going to be fine.

“Bruce, not to burst your bubble, but you can’t do that.”

“What are you talking about, Tim. She’s a Gothamite. He has every right to and Gordon will back him up on this.” Dick exclaimed. His hands moving in rhythm with his speech.

“Was. She was adopted. Internationally. The adopted child then takes on the citizenship and nationality of their parents, revoking their right to their native country and vi versa. This is done to protect the child in the event that something goes wrong and the child’s native country tries to force them to come back. Unless otherwise stated in the adoption forms or something wasn’t signed, then she is not an American citizen anymore. Nulling Bruce’s right to claim guardianship over a suspected abused minor and tying Gordon’s hands in any investigation.” Tim informed them, his voice straying as he tried to keep himself from yelling.

“Then it’s a good thing I have a couple friends in the French embassy who owe me a couple favors. I’ll be able to get us a couple days at least. That’ll give us enough time to find that flaw in the forms, there’s always one.” Bruce said, and for a moment, the boys could see the business side of him. “We’ll also get our lawyers to nail that girl with slander and defamation. We’ll lay more charges as they become available. They’ll also be drawing up lawsuit papers. Tim, I want you looking into that class. Find out everything you can about their relationship with Marinette, and any other claims this Lila’s made. Damian,” Bruce said, pausing as he addressed his youngest. Through the entire conversation, Damian hadn’t said much, which was unusual. He always had something to add. It usually being a snarky remark, but he hadn’t said anything. “Damian, I want you to watch over Marinette at school. Don’t let that class get near her again. Enlist help if needed, but don’t leave her alone.”

The only affirmation Damian gave was a curt nod, but it was more then enough. If Damian had a problem, he would have voiced it by now. He would have her back.

“…  There’s one more thing I need to tell you. About Nettie.” Jason said, taking a second to breath before explaining. “Nettie, Nettie’s different. She’s special. The kid, she’s insanely smart. Like rivaling Tim smart. She’s … an analyst. If she stays here, heck, if she gets to know you for any length of time she will figure you out. I just … you need to know that if she stays here, she will find out. She may not say it, but she’ll know.”

“We’ve handled analysts before. The only people who have figured our identities out, aside from Tim, took years. Three months is not going to be enough time for her to figure it out.”

“When she was six, she saw Harvey Dent at a press conference. She locked eyes with him for a second. Do you know what she told me after? She said he had two different faces. That his soul was tainted, and that his scared faced was going to win. That was a year before his accident. A year before Two-Face made his debut.” Jason said, locking eyes with Bruce.

While Jason knew it was a risk saying that, he needed them to know. He didn’t want to tell them, but he couldn’t keep it secret. They would find out anyway and Jason knew it would turn out better for everyone if they found out from him. He also wasn’t about to allow Bruce to disregard his sister or her intelligence.

“Is she meta?”

Bruce’s question echoed through the room. Everyone knew his stance on meta-humans in Gotham. All eyes turned to Jason, each waiting for his answer.

“She’s insightful.”

“Is she meta, Jason?”

“… she’s harmless, Bruce.” Jason whispered.

If it was possible, the room grew quieter at the confirmation. No one knew what to do, or think for that matter. Metas and Gotham was never a good mix. If one when rogue, it spelt chaos. But they couldn’t not do anything.

“Father, one thing I have learned from you and living in family is that we help anyone who needs it. Regardless of who they are. If they need our help and protection, we give it. If we turn her away on the account of what she is, something she has no control or say over, then perhaps what I learned was wrong. Though regardless of your final decision, I am still helping her.” Damian said, shocking the family, especially Jason.

Everyone, Alfred included, stared at him like he had sprouted horns. They would have been less surprised if that happened.

“Why?” Bruce asked, carefully keeping his expression blank. Damian didn’t hesitate for moment before answering.

“My instinct is telling me to help her. It’s never wrong. She needs help and I’m going to give it.”

Jason could kiss the little demon right now! Of all the people to back him and Nettie up, he never thought it would be Demon Spawn. Turning his attention back to Bruce, Jason still found his blank face, though he could see the calculating look in his eyes along with a spark of pride.

“It’s good to know you have taken something to heart, Damian.” Bruce said, a small smile playing on his face. “Jason, while I don’t like metas, that doesn’t mean we’re not going to help your sister. We’ll just keep a closer eye on her. And we’ll make sure this information does not get out.”

If Jason hadn’t felt like crying before, he did now. He had been ready to grab Nettie and get the hell out of the house and Gotham if Bruce had shown any form of hostility towards her. Instead, Damian had come to her defence and Bruce had agreed to let her stay. He agreed to let her stay!

Forcing back the sudden lump that had formed, Jason sent Damian a grateful smile before turning to addressing the rest of the family, but a soft voice cut him off.

“What’s a meta?”

@mystery-5-5@captainmac6@you-will-never-know-how-i-think@mochinek0@sonif50@zalladane@thebananathatwrites@schrodingers25@kuroko26@miraculousbelladonna@souleaterlicestein@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry@ijustwannabecanadian@ellerahs@ranger-paladinikoe@xxmadamjinxx@derpingrainbow@sassy-spocko@vixen-uchiha@mjisntme@iggy-of-fans@violentbisexualprophecywriter@valeks-princess@crazylittlemunchkin@redscarlet95@alexzandria-747@ayuchan07@whomthefyck@constancetruggle@rikku052@kurogaya913@shizukiryuu@spicybelladonna@zazzlejazzle@luciferge@mewwitch@emotionalsupportginger@grunklestantheman@my-name-is-michell@northernbluetongue@chez-pezeater@shamefullove@goggles-mcgee@gingerdaile@zebrabaker@tinybrie@bluefiredemon@particularlygeeky@2sunchild2@tbehartoo@god-is-dead-and-so-am-i@shyestofhearts@darkthunder1589@fridayfirefly@lunar-wolf-warrior@ladylb@vivilakitty@ghostcryptid@casual-darkness@yamadochie@thatrandomfandomsgirl@mindfulmagics@myriad-of-passionate-pettiness@violatiger8@seraphichana@synnesstra@friedchickening@kiara-rose-blackthorn@driftingmoonlitpetals@nataladriana9@ginamarie1512@etheralentity@tritaledkitsune@ki117h3dr4g0n@throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen@saphiraazure2708@ivette0712@calvin1394@liadreyar-dragneel@iglowinggemma28@resignedcatservant@creator-josie@lysslovsanime@fiendsangelical@sam-spectra@clumsy-owl-4178@elspethshadow@imspectralboiii@forestmoon11@mooshoon@littleredrobinhoodlum@eliza-bich@dnsakina@hypnosharkrebeldreamer@two-faced-biatch@queencommonsense@poshplumcot@melicmusicmagic@graduatedmelon@rydellakurancarson@huntressofthenight0516@ranger-gothamite@mortally-strange-candy@tog84@thecatnipmademedoit@nerdy-anime-trash-27@maude-zarella@kristycocopop@tumbling-down-hills-and-stuff@mariae2900@simplysslytherin@miraculous-simmer7@7-sage-7@puffapproved@heredemaquam@unabashedbookworm@danielslilangel@huntressofthenight@lexysama@minty-goose@hecate-hallow@maribat-shenanegins@severelyenchantedwonderland@dnsakina@cupcakeandkisses@paradoxal-occurance@bamagirl513@littleblue5mcdork@zerotosiki@chaosace@satans-favorite-homo@celestiacq@bee-wrecker@bluerosette23@dast218@theatreandcomicfreak@noirdots

Batman and Jim Gordon in The Batman (2022)

My overall feeling is that I’m eager to see it again.

Love how Gotham looks. It’s creaky and creepy. Love the gothic interiors of Wayne Manor and the church.

It’s really beautifully lit. You can still track what’s going on because it’s lit so well or makes use of silhouette.

This movie takes its time … with … everything … it’s really deliberate. In one sense it makes it really easy to follow along, like this isn’t so fast-paced and jam packed that it’s just overstimulating you. 

Love the cast. To a person, everyone delivers. I was an optiminist about these casting choices from jump street and I think they aquit themselves really well. Up until I saw this movie  

This is so heavily focued on Batman. Lest that seem obvious there is very little Bruce Wayne TM in this movie. Like the best iterations of Batman before it, this movie gets that Bruce Wayne is the mask. It also makes the choice not to use the advantages Brucy Wayne has to try to change the city. By the end he realizes he has to be more than just vengance and presumably that includes useing the billionaire-playboy Bruce Wayne cover to do recon etc.

The beginning of this movie is so strong. The intrigue and working the case with Batman and Gordon then Batman and Alfred are probably my favorite scenes.

The action is filmed in long takes. We see bodies fully in the frame. It compares favorably to Nolan’s take in this regard. This Batman can move and the fights go to ground. When people criticized Nolan’s presentation of fighting I’d usually think, wait what? Then on rewatch it became more clear what the criticisms were about. But it didn’t matter as much because I was so affecteed by the story in those cases I remembered the fighting being more like what’s presented here. The violence isn’t impressionistic or overly stylized. The Batman’s suit is obviously bullet-proof because he knows people are going to shoot at him. 

Penguin walking like a penguin, lol.

The music is amazing. Like deceptivly simple but so powerful. Love the percussion, too. 

Was Selina running a long con and it happened that her friend got murdered? If she was just using Ana to get to Falcone why’d she get the passport back? Also why was there not a mention of the murder weapon used on Mitchell before the third act? We get tthe lingering shot of the odd edge on the floor? Chalk it up to Gotham curruption in the ME’s office, maybe. Why isn’t there mention of like, more security for the other mayoral candidate? 

The ending is beatutifyl and hopeful. I really craved one more Alfred scene. Like a moment between Batman and Alfred where he explicitely plans to use the Bruce Wayne persona more. This is a case where the run-time works against this movie. If it’s 3 hours long, why miss a beat?

The story is in a bit of bind because Gordon is a “good cop.” We don’t get the kind of noir that really indicts cops as part of systemic corruption to be overcome to get true justice. The Batman goes as far as allowed in a big budget movie. 

The length of this movie makes it necessary to rewatch it. Right now so many of my nit-picks could possibly be eliminated with a closer look. Like why didn’t Batman get closer to detecting the sea wall was at risk? Was the reporter with dirt on the Wayne’s the Riddler’s father? And wasn’t that reporter already dirty, as in he was a reporter on Maroni’s payroll? 

My overall feeling is that I’m eager to see it again.

commissioner gordon