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Entry tags:
FICLET: A Moment of Illumination
Title: A Moment of Illumination
Continuity: Movies, between The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises
Pairing/Characters: John Blake, Jim Gordon
Warnings: None
Summary: A dark night in Gotham, a spooked patrol, an image John Blake can neither understand nor forget.
Rating: G
Word Count: 566
Notes: More non-spoiler guesswork about Blake and Gotham.
"It's the Batman!"
The voice was high and nervous; in the darkness of the Gotham night, John Blake saw one of the new recruits--Murchison--twitch and spin.
"Steady," said Jim Gordon, his voice level. "Don't jump at shadows. We're here for a burglary, not--"
Murchison let out a strangled cry, and there was a sharp crack and a muzzle flash, then another. As if the panic were infectious, two of the other officers shot into the dark, a strobing rattle.
In that moment of noise and confusion, Blake's thought wasn't for the Batman, it was for the man he was known to have a vendetta against. So as everyone else was staring into the darkness, Blake was looking at the Commissioner.
In the stark, frozen light of the muzzle flashes, he saw Jim Gordon's face.
Then the moment was over, and Gordon was striding forward and snapping "Holster your weapons! It's just bats--just regular bats, damn it!"
The swarm of dark wings, startled from their hiding place, swooped up into the night sky. A nervous chuckle skittered through the officers, but Gordon's eyes were blazing as he rounded on Murchison.
"I will not tolerate trigger-happy officers, do you hear me?" Murchison cast his eyes down and muttered something. "I said, do you hear me?"
Murchison straightened his back as if under a whip lash. "Sir! Yes, sir!"
"Did you enjoy your classes at police academy, Muchison?" Gordon's voice was alarmingly mild; Murchison stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched. "Because I'm sure your instructors would be delighted to know that you paid such close attention during the lectures on firearm safety. Damn it!" He snapped, wheeling on all of them equally. "We have procedures we follow and rules we obey. We are not thugs, and we are not vigilantes. We are the guardians of law and order in this city, and we must never cross the line and endanger the people we are sworn to protect. You all know that!" His voice echoed from the silent buildings and came back to them like a shadow. Jim Gordon took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep breath. The fury seemed to drain from him, leaving him weary and worried. "You could have killed an innocent person," he said, his voice shaking very slightly.
"Yes sir."
Chastened, the officers fanned out to investigate the grounds. Blake became aware that Gordon was eyeing him; he continued to search the shrubbery around the museum walls, not returning the look.
"You didn't fire," Gordon said after a while.
"No, sir."
"Good man," said Gordon, and walked away to oversee the rest of the investigation.
And that was that; the burglar was found and arrested that evening, there were no casualties, and Gotham was safer at the end of the evening than at the beginning, like so many nights before. A good night's work.
So there was no reason, none at all, for Blake to have nightmares for weeks: nightmares filled with flashes of flame and smoke, buildings falling into ruin. There was no reason to see in dreams Jim Gordon's face, rigid with horror in the cruel pale light, as if witnessing a disaster he was helpless to prevent.
Continuity: Movies, between The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises
Pairing/Characters: John Blake, Jim Gordon
Warnings: None
Summary: A dark night in Gotham, a spooked patrol, an image John Blake can neither understand nor forget.
Rating: G
Word Count: 566
Notes: More non-spoiler guesswork about Blake and Gotham.
"It's the Batman!"
The voice was high and nervous; in the darkness of the Gotham night, John Blake saw one of the new recruits--Murchison--twitch and spin.
"Steady," said Jim Gordon, his voice level. "Don't jump at shadows. We're here for a burglary, not--"
Murchison let out a strangled cry, and there was a sharp crack and a muzzle flash, then another. As if the panic were infectious, two of the other officers shot into the dark, a strobing rattle.
In that moment of noise and confusion, Blake's thought wasn't for the Batman, it was for the man he was known to have a vendetta against. So as everyone else was staring into the darkness, Blake was looking at the Commissioner.
In the stark, frozen light of the muzzle flashes, he saw Jim Gordon's face.
Then the moment was over, and Gordon was striding forward and snapping "Holster your weapons! It's just bats--just regular bats, damn it!"
The swarm of dark wings, startled from their hiding place, swooped up into the night sky. A nervous chuckle skittered through the officers, but Gordon's eyes were blazing as he rounded on Murchison.
"I will not tolerate trigger-happy officers, do you hear me?" Murchison cast his eyes down and muttered something. "I said, do you hear me?"
Murchison straightened his back as if under a whip lash. "Sir! Yes, sir!"
"Did you enjoy your classes at police academy, Muchison?" Gordon's voice was alarmingly mild; Murchison stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched. "Because I'm sure your instructors would be delighted to know that you paid such close attention during the lectures on firearm safety. Damn it!" He snapped, wheeling on all of them equally. "We have procedures we follow and rules we obey. We are not thugs, and we are not vigilantes. We are the guardians of law and order in this city, and we must never cross the line and endanger the people we are sworn to protect. You all know that!" His voice echoed from the silent buildings and came back to them like a shadow. Jim Gordon took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep breath. The fury seemed to drain from him, leaving him weary and worried. "You could have killed an innocent person," he said, his voice shaking very slightly.
"Yes sir."
Chastened, the officers fanned out to investigate the grounds. Blake became aware that Gordon was eyeing him; he continued to search the shrubbery around the museum walls, not returning the look.
"You didn't fire," Gordon said after a while.
"No, sir."
"Good man," said Gordon, and walked away to oversee the rest of the investigation.
And that was that; the burglar was found and arrested that evening, there were no casualties, and Gotham was safer at the end of the evening than at the beginning, like so many nights before. A good night's work.
So there was no reason, none at all, for Blake to have nightmares for weeks: nightmares filled with flashes of flame and smoke, buildings falling into ruin. There was no reason to see in dreams Jim Gordon's face, rigid with horror in the cruel pale light, as if witnessing a disaster he was helpless to prevent.