Jim's body ached as he tried to catch his breath, but the consistent pain from the gunshot wounds he sustained made it hard for him to think about anything else. But the one thing that kept him going throughout his pain was his will to live. Essen's words echoed in his head, reminding him of Barbara and Holly, and he did his best to stay awake. But as Montoya and Allen pulled into a building unfamiliar to Jim, he passed out from exhaustion. Allen turned in his seat as a tired breath escaped Jim's mouth, and he instantly feared the worst.

"Shit, we need to get him inside now!" Allen glanced to Montoya. "Come on, Jim. Don't give up now," Montoya pulled into the parking spot before rushing inside. She came back with a good friend who knew the ins and outs of medicine. Getting Jim onto the stretcher, the three of them walked inside the building, and all Montoya and Allen could do was sit and wait. A couple of hours later, Jim finally jolted awake, finding himself in a room containing cages upon cages filled with mice. Where am I? What are they... Before Jim could finish his thought, the clicking of heels filled the room, and he looked up to see a woman wearing a white medical coat approach the table he was lying on.

"Ah! You're back! How do you feel?" She asked, her voice rather chipper. "Terrible," Jim sighed. "Where am I? Who are you?" The woman slipped a stethoscope around her neck, introducing herself as one of Montoya and Allen's friends. "I just took two bullets out of you and sewed you up. Now, I'm checking to see how you're doing. So, who are you, what city are we in, and what day of the week is it?" The doctor shined a tiny light into Jim's eyes, making him squint.

"I'm James Gordon, we're in Gotham. It's Friday. Why are there rats?" Jim answered, grabbing her wrist. "It's the dissection lab at the university. I gather you're a fugitive from the mob. Can't go to the hospital, said Crispus. Very exciting, I must say," She explained. "How long have I been out?" Jim questioned. "Just a couple of hours or so. You're very lucky, no vital organs were..." Before the doctor could finish, Jim pulled himself up and tried to get off the table. But the doctor was quick to stop him. "Whoa, whoa, lie back down, okay? You are hurt. Just a week or so in bed..." She tried to persuade.

But Jim held firm, saying he needed to go. "James, you have lost a lot of blood. You have to do as I say and lie back down. If you don't, you could die," The doctor told him. "I have to stand. Can you help me?" Jim asked, but he didn't wait for a response as he continued to get up. Eventually, the doctor nodded and called out to Allen, saying Jim was leaving already. "I have to go now," Jim explained. Surprisingly, Allen didn't try to stop him, only suggesting that Jim put on proper clothes first.

~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, Jim was back in Montoya and Allen's car, sitting in ominous silence as Allen went to get a certain someone Jim needed to speak to. With only Montoya to keep him company and the earlier events of that day causing tension between them, Montoya decided to put an end to it. "I owe you an apology. You were telling the truth, and I wouldn't believe you. Maybe my personal feelings towards Barbara got tangled up in there. And that was wrong," she glanced over at him. "Forget it," Jim replied, his gaze still locked outside the car window.

"Anyhow, I'm sorry for misjudging you, and I'm very glad that we're on the same side now," Montoya slightly smiled. "Yeah, me too," Jim nodded. "So, Barbara and Holly are safe though? You're sure they're safe?" Montoya questioned. "They are. Barbara left Gotham and Holly's with one of her friends and her family," Jim explained. "Do you mind taking me to see her after this?" "It's no problem at all," Montoya answered.

Their conversation was cut short when both of them looked over to the passenger side to see Allen's face smushed up against the window, and right behind him was Alfred. Jim slowly rolled down the window, and Alfred let Allen go. "Gordon, is that you?" Alfred squinted into the dark vehicle. "It's all right, Alfred. He's a friend," Jim spoke. "We couldn't risk a direct approach. People are looking for me," The butler apologized to Allen, saying they could never be too careful these days. "In a spot of bother, are we, sir?" Alfred looked back to Jim. The detective nodded, and on the walk back to Wayne Manor, Jim explained the situation as they reached the living room and waited as Alfred went to wake up Bruce.

The young boy rubbed his tired eyes and yawned, asking Jim what was going on. "Bruce, this is Renee Montoya and Crispus Allen," Jim introduced them. "Pleased to meet you," Bruce acknowledged them before back to Jim. "Bruce, I promised I would find your parents' killer. I'm not sure I'm going to be able to keep that promise. It's a long story, but I'm kind of in a tight spot. I've upset some powerful people," Jim explained, not wanting to delve too deep into the details. "Stop treating me like a child!" Bruce insisted. "Explain," he spoke in a calmer tone. "Bruce, you are a child. You don't need to know..."

"You expect to die, and I'd like to know why. Is it connected to my parents' murder?" Bruce questioned. "Yes, it's all connected somehow. Bruce, I will do my best to work this thing out. But if I don't, Montoya and Allen here will take over your parents' case. I've told them everything I know. You can trust them 100%," Allen nodded, confirming Jim's words. "Bruce, these are good detectives. If anyone can find the truth, it's them," Jim assured. Bruce looked down at the ground, sad as the thought of what could happen to Jim passed his mind. He may not have been able to find much info about his parent's killer, but he had to give Jim credit for trying.

"Sir, what can we do to help you now?" Alfred spoke up. "Nothing. From here on in, I have to go it alone. I don't want anyone else caught up in this," Jim answered. "You can barely walk," Alfred noticed. "I'll be fine," Jim responded, holding his hand for Bruce to shake. But as Bruce looked down at Jim's hand, he instead hugged Jim as tightly as he could, muffling a thank you. The MCU detectives looked at each other a bit nervous and skeptical. They knew how important it was to Jim to find the Wayne's killer, and without saying it out loud, they hoped Jim would be able to keep his promise to the boy after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner at the Whitstock house was as pleasant as it could be. Holly and Cara's laughter and conversations continued throughout the night as Florence and the other servants observed and looked out for them. It was almost like they were bodyguards, except for the lack of matching black suits and thick sunglasses. As it started to grow late, Cara led Holly into one of the guest rooms, and lying on the bed was a long nightgown dyed a soft baby pink. "I'll be right next door if you need me, okay?" Cara gestured to the next room. "Okay. And Cara?" The Whitstock turned around with a questioning look. "Thank you, you're a lifesaver," Holly smiled.

"Anything for my best friend," Cara replied, shutting the guest room door behind her. Holly changed into her nightgown, feeling the silky material brush against her skin as she got comfortable in the large bed. And as she shut off the bedside lamp, she immediately sat up when she heard a knock. "Who is it?" Holly asked, a little scared. "It's Florence, Ms. Gordon. You have a visitor," Florence answered. Who could be visiting me this late at night? Holly wondered as she followed the nanny downstairs. Standing by the front door was none other than her dad, looking both tired and relieved.

"Dad!" Holly ran and embraced him. Jim groaned as Holly accidentally squeezed him too tight, and after hearing this, Holly quickly stepped back. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" Holly asked. "No, it's okay. Just a little sensitive," He shook his head, hugging her again from a different angle. "I was so worried about you," Holly sighed. "I was too. Are you doing okay?" Jim asked her. "Cara's been a really good friend with helping me out..." Holly turned around and looked at Florence. "And Florence has been nothing but kind and helpful," The nanny smiled and assured everything was fine and asked how long Holly would be staying with them.

"In all honesty, I don't know. I just need to make sure it's safe before Holly and her mother can come back home. Is Mr. and Mrs. Whitstock around? I was hoping to speak with them," Jim explained. "Mr. and Mrs. Whitstock are still out, but I can pass along a message," Florence offered. "Jim reached into his pocket and grabbed a scrap of paper from his notebook and his pen, quickly jotting a message of thank you for taking in his daughter and leaving his number in case they needed to get into contact with him.

He handed the note to Florence, giving Holly one last hug and whispered, "I love you," before leaving. Holly sadly smiled, watching as her father disappeared back into the night. "Come on, Ms. Gordon. Let's get you back to bed, okay?" Florence gestured back to the staircase. Holly nodded and went back upstairs to her room, glad to know that her father was still alive, and prayed that it would stay that way.

When Jim arrived back at the empty apartment, he laid out every firearm and weapon he had on the dining room table, loading them with full magazines. If he were to spread a loud and clear message to his enemies with that much power and control, he needed a decently sized arsenal. "Jimbo! It's me, open up," A voice called out as it pounded on the front door. When Jim went to answer it, he saw Harvey with his arm around a woman, a half-empty flask clutched in his free hand.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna kill you. I should, but I ain't," Harvey said as he and the woman walked into the apartment.  "Glad to hear it," Jim responded. "Obviously, you figured you'd go to the last place they'd look because it'd be the first place they'd reject as being too obvious," Harvey stumbled a bit, but he caught his balance. "I'm... sorry, I'm being rude. This is the Duchess of Devonshire. Duchess, Jim Gordon, putz," The woman over at him, and quietly but friendly introduced herself as Marsha. 

"Hey baby, why don't you explore a little bit? Find the bedroom and put on your birthday suit. And I'll find you in a jiffy, okay?" Harvey slurred. Marsha nodded and walked to the other side of the apartment to look for an empty room. "So, I've been thinking, you're still a douchebag. But you have the moral high ground. So, I'm gonna back your play, whatever it is. I figure I'm doomed anyhow. I might as well join the good guys," Harvey sighed. "So, what is your play? I mean, you got one, right? You said you did,"

"Tomorrow morning, I'm arresting Falcone and the Mayor for the framing of Mario Pepper. Conspiracy, P.O.J, Rico, the works," Jim explained. Harvey squinted, through his drunkenness and wondered if he heard Jim correctly. "Well, that's a hell of a plan! You sit down with a panel of chimpanzees and a bucket of crack and come up with that one?" Harvey joked. "I figure whatever else happens, we'll stir things up. We might even make the papers," Jim added. "Oh yeah, we're gonna make the papers, all right. We're gonna be dead in the streets in time for the evening edition," Harvey spoke sarcastically.

Jim reasoned that if that happened, Gotham would at least know the truth, and they'd go out doing their jobs. But Harvey's current haze started to make him lose interest. "You don't have to join me," Jim told him. "No, I'm game. Like I said, I'm doomed anyhow," Harvey confirmed. "Where are your girls? You got them out of Gotham, right?" he asked. "Yeah, they're both safe," Jim nodded, not wanting to go into the specifics. "Alright, good. Now, if you'll excuse me for one minute, just gonna take care of some business," Harvey winked as he called out to his 'lady-friend' and followed her voice into an empty room.

As Jim returned to loading his weapons, all he could do was cringe at what was happening behind those closed doors.

The second the first ray of sunshine lit up Gotham, and after Harvey sobered up, both men walked down the streets of Gotham, carrying their rifles and handguns. Outside Mayor James's residence, they watched him gather his things before they snuck into the Mayor's car, waiting for the right moment to blindside him. As Mayor James shut the car's back door, he jumped at the sight of Jim sitting next to him. "Jumping catfish!" the Mayor gasped, nearly dropping his coffee. "Good morning, Mayor James," Jim spoke with calm casualness. "Gordon, you scared the bejeebers out of me. Almost spilled my coffee,"

Jim reached into his blazer for the arrest warrant and handed it to the Mayor, telling him he was under arrest. "This is not funny!" Mayor James looked shocked. "Depends on where you're sitting," Harvey turned around, looking into the back seat. "You might want to take a look at this," Jim gestured to the warrant. With a shaking hand, Mayor James quickly unfolded it and scanned through the warrant, and the extensive charges sent a few shivers down his spine. With part one of their plan complete and one powerful man in their custody, Jim and Harvey drove to Falcone Manor and stopped at the gate by a few armed men.

Mayor James rolled down the window and painted a face of normalcy. "How are you doing, guys? I'm here to have a chat with Mr. Falcone," Mayor James explained. "Sure thing, Mr. Mayor," One of the men nodded. Mayor James rolled up the darkly tinted window, and the gates opened. Inside the manor, Falcone was sitting in his living room having his daily breakfast of toast and tea when Jim walked into the room with Mayor James in handcuffs. "Carmine Falcone, you're under arrest," Jim stated. Harvey soon entered, holding a few more of Falcone's men at gunpoint, and instructed them to lie down and stay quiet.

"What on earth are you thinking?" Falcone questioned. "We're thinking we'll take you both to jail and charge you with conspiracy to pervert the course of justice," Jim answered. "Try and take me in. You won't make it to the end of the street," Falcone challenged. "This is a lawful arrest. If you resist, you will be shot," Jim warned. Falcone slowly nodded, finally understanding what this little scheme was all about. "I see how it is. We all die together in a blaze of glory," He commented. "If that's how it works out, that's fine with me. How about you, Harvey?" Jim looked over to his partner.

"Fine by me," Harvey replied. "I envy you, boys. Having nothing to lose must be liberating. Must feel pretty good," Falcone said. "Yes, it does," Jim nodded. "Suppose you did have something to lose. What would you do then?" Falcone asked. "Suppose, for instance, say I had a knife to Barbara Kean's throat right now. Would you still be so brave?" Jim shook his head, refusing to believe the mafia boss's words were true. "And what about Holly? What would you do if I told you I sent one of my men after her?" Falcone continued.

"Enough! I know you're lying," Jim told him. "I'm telling you I do. Barbara came back, came right to me, and pleaded for your life. You have a good woman there. She loves you very much," Falcone confirmed. "How did you know about Holly?" Jim asked. "Trust me, Jim. I have eyes all over this city. Two men are currently scoping out her location at the Whitstock Manor as we speak," "Show me the proof then!" Jim requested. But Carmine Falcone shook his head, saying he could but that he wanted Jim to believe him. "It's obvious, Jim. He's lying!" Harvey insisted. 

"Am I? If you think so, go ahead and try to bring me in. You'll be dead, so you won't know what happens to Barbara and Holly. But it won't be pretty," Falcone offered. Everything had completely gone off the rails. He didn't want the two most important women in his life to be hurt, but if he didn't bring the corrupt mayor and mafia boss to justice, this plan would be all for nothing. "On my mother's grave, I swear I'm not lying. Drop your gun, and your girls won't be harmed in any way,"

With no other choice, Jim laid down his weapon, and after a bit of apprehension and shock, so did Harvey. Both men were led into another room, sitting on the couch as they watched Falcone's men uncuff Mayor James. "Oh, this is embarrassing. He straight-up bluffed you into folding. We could've gone out like heroes. Now we're fish food," Harvey sighed. Right behind the couch, they heard two more sets of footsteps enter the room, and sure enough Barbara was bound and gagged, Victor Zsasz standing right behind her. "Okay, so it wasn't a bluff," Harvey's eyes widened.

"I'm sorry if she was mistreated a little. We needed to be sure she had nothing useful to tell us. Untie her, Victor," Falcone explained. The bald man did as instructed, and Barbara ran into her fiancé's arms, apologizing profusely. "What am I gonna do with you? By rights, you have to die," Falcone paced the living room, his hands behind his back in thought. Mayor James quickly excused himself, saying he was going to be late for work. But Falcone paid it no mind, turning back to the detectives.

"Such a waste, though. Gotham needs men like you, both of you. Strong men with principles. I wish I could make you see I'm not the enemy. The system is not the enemy. The enemy is anarchy. But I told you that before, didn't I, Jim?" Falcone squinted. "Yes, you did," Jim admitted. "You didn't listen though," Falcone spoke with disappointment. "Do we get a last meal or a smoke or anything, or just talk?" Harvey asked. But everyone acted like he hadn't spoken that question.

"But today, you believed me. You trusted my word, and that's a good first step. Perhaps there's still hope for you," Falcone mentioned. Everyone in the room looked at the mafia boss as he made his final decision. Most of the men present hoped their boss would go for the latter, but to Harvey and Jim's luck, their lives were about to be spared. "Go. Get out of here before I change my mind," Falcone finalized. "But wait a minute!" Victor tried to interrupt, but Falcone was quick to shut him down.

Falcone looked to Barbara, telling her it was a pleasure to have her and that he admired a brave woman. "What's the catch, Mr. Falcone?" Jim questioned, figuring there would almost always be one. I want you to understand the truth. That's all I ask. The catch is: Someday soon, you'll see I'm right,"

~~~~~~~~~

As Jim and Barbara left the Falcone Manor, Jim knew he had to make sure that Holly wasn't in danger. Sure enough, as he pulled into the driveway and entered the Whitstock family home, there were no threats to Holly's life. Falcone could've had his men outside the manor waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The drive back to the apartment was mostly full of silence, as neither Jim nor Barbara wanted to tell their daughter what took place. But of course, Holly had some questions. "So, is everything okay now? We're safe?" she asked.

"Yeah, Hols. Everything's okay now," Jim looked through the car mirror at her. "So, how was it staying at your friend's house?" Barbara questioned. "It was good. We were finishing up a game of chess when you pulled up. I was one move away from making checkmate," Holly answered. "That's great, sweetheart," Jim commented. Holly nodded before her gaze returned to the car window, watching as the trees and streetlights zoomed past.

When they got home, Holly got settled back into her room and finished up some of her homework. Out in the living room, however, Barbara was on the verge of a panic attack. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to help, and I don't know what..." Barbara trailed off, sobbing into Jim's chest. "I love you so much," Jim rubbed her back as the tears continued to fall, telling her how much he loved her as well. Even though some of the trauma subsided, Barbara couldn't stop worrying about her daughter.

"You think Holly is okay?" She questioned, looking over to the closed bedroom. "I think so. She'd come to us if something was wrong," Jim responded. "It's just... I saw how upset she was whenever you got arrested, and now she's acting like everything's okay," Barbara recalled. Jim had to admit, it was a bit weird, but he figured maybe Holly had a different way of dealing with rough situations. And maybe spending that time with Cara was the perfect distraction she needed. "Maybe I'm just being paranoid," Barbara sighed, holding him tightly and never wanting to let go.