"I will hurt you for this. I don't know how yet, but give me time. A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid." ― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

••• flashback •••

As the elevator opened on her floor, Bird stepped out into the hallway lined with apartment doors. Blowing out a sigh, she switched the small brown paper bag of groceries she'd been carrying to her other arm and cringed as pain radiated through her shoulder vibrated down her arm.

Audibly she let out a groan when her cellphone started to ring from her pocket.
For the last hour she'd been getting calls from a few numbers that she hadn't recognized.
She had a message from one of the GCPD detectives saying that he needed her to get in touch with them as soon as she possibly could.

She suspected it had something to do with what happened at Fish's club earlier in the night, which is why she wasn't the least bit surprised when she saw Fish's number showing on her phone screen.

Knowing her boss didn't like to the ignored and she'd likely get her ass reamed over it the next day, Bird ignored the phone call.

She'd gotten injured trying to break up a fight at the club that had erupted between two heavily intoxicated men trying to lay claim to one of the new burlesque dancers.
As if the new girl would have gone home with either of them, Bird internally rolled her eyes at the situation all over again, Fish payed her employees well and made sure they were always taken care of.

She'd barely made it a couple more steps before her phone rang again; only this time it was her family's butler, Alfred Pennyworth calling her.

Just like all the calls before his, she ignored it and thought to herself that she was too exhausted to deal with anyone or anything for the rest of the night.
As far as she was concerned, her priority was going to be a bottle of wine all to herself and a long, hot bath.

With that thought, she turned onto her hallway and silenced her phone.
Just as she looked away from the screen of her flip-phone, she saw a man she didn't recognize leaned against the wall just outside of her apartment door.

Slowing to a stop she looked him over; business suit, long dark coat, buzzed cut hair –looking utterly exhausted and wearing a somber expression on his face.

Cop.

This man had cop written all over him.

Swallowing hard, Bird's grip tightened around the phone in her hand.
GCPD wouldn't be at her door this late at night to talk about a fight at the club.

"Can I help you?" She finally found her words, though she seemed to be struggling to get her feet to move.

"Miss Wayne?" He guessed, leaving his post near her door and walking closer.
Despite the question he didn't need a verbal confirmation when he got a look at her face.

After spending so long trying to comfort Bruce Wayne at the scene of his parents' murders; he knew he'd never get the young boys tear streaked face out of his mind and he was now easily picking up on the psychical similarities between the thirteen year old and his older sister.

"My name is James Gordon." He introduced himself and displayed his badge, "I'm a detective with the GCPD."

When he made eye contact with her, the feeling of dread rose in her stomach.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this but earlier tonight, in an ally outside of a theater..." He stopped to pull in a shallow breath, but Bird didn't give him much time to figure out how he wanted to word the rest of the awful news he'd come to deliver.

"Are they okay?" She pushed, blinking rapidly and clearly trying to fight off the tears welling up in her eyes.

"No." Jim answered, "It appears to have been a mugging that ended violently. There was a shooting –your parents didn't survive. I'm sorry."

He waited for her reaction; expecting her to break down into tears, let the paper store bag of groceries in her arms fall to the floor, he'd even taken step closer just in case she herself were to collapse.

But instead she stared blankly ahead; her brown eyes wide with an unreadable look.
It wasn't until a tear slid down her cheek that he knew she'd heard what he said.

There was a tightening feeling in her chest as the news fully sunk in.
Her parents were gone.

Dead.

"Miss Wayne?" Jim cleared his throat, finding her unblinking expression more troublesome by the second.

More tears slid down her cheeks and she finally shook her head, "Bruce?"

Her expression suddenly turned to one of completed panic and her breath started to rush in and out so rapidly she was on her verge of hyperventilating.

"He's-"
Jim couldn't even answer the question, before Bird nearly screamed, "My little brother? Is he okay? He was supposed to be with them tonight... is... is, h-he..."

Her mouth suddenly felt drier than cotton and she wasn't able to form another syllable let alone an entire word or a coherent sentence.

"He's alive." Jim seized the opportunity her silence offered, hoping the news would at least bring her a little comfort on such a dark night.

"He was there." His voice lowered, "He witnessed everything, but he wasn't injured."

"I... I have to see him." Bird stated, with more tears leaving trails down her flushed cheeks, "Where is he?"

Remembering the man who'd came to the crime scene to get Bruce and take him away from the horror he'd just endured, Jim explained, "He's with Alfred Pennyworth-"

"Good." Bird huffed, still trying to get the oxygen from the all too thick air around them, "I... I have to go... I need to see him-"

"I'll drive you." Jim offered.
After learning such tragic news, he knew there was no way her attention would be on the road.

"No." Bird argued, as the ringing sound in the distance grew louder and louder in her ears until it was the only thing she could hear.
And despite her insistence that she needed to rush to her brother, she made no attempt to actually turn and leave.

Instead, the dazed and lost look returned to her eyes and even though she appeared calm on the exterior she was fighting a battle inside.
A fight against her mind threatening to shut down completely to keep the pain and fear away, to go to any measure to keep the terrible reality she'd just been slapped with from fully sinking in.

She'd felt this before. After being attacked as a teenager, she'd shut down so entirely that she couldn't even bring herself to speak a word for months on end.

"Miss Wayne?" Jim questioned, his concern growing by the second. Stepping forward he gently laid a hand on her upper arm, "I'll take you to your brother."

"No." She quickly jerked away from his touch and used her free hand to wipe her face then push her messy hair from her face.
She couldn't shut down, not now.

This wasn't just about her. This was about her little brother who had seen their parents killed right in front of him, who could have very easily fallen victim along with them.

"I don't really think you're in any condition to-" Jim tried to keep his voice steady and calm, but it was clear to see that the young woman in front of him wasn't going to be easily persuaded.

"I know the way to get to the house I grew up in." She sharply interrupted, and even though her tone was harsh enough to cut through stone, steady streams of tears continued to rain down from her dark brown eyes.

"I have to see my brother." She loudly said, and he got the feeling that she seemed to be verbally giving herself a command rather than explaining to him what her next move was going to be.

"I understand." He nodded, not taking any offense to her anger that seemed directed at him for delivering the horrible news, "Be with your family tonight, but tomorrow I'm going to need to ask you some questions."

Pulling his wallet from his pocket he took out one of the cards with his GCPD contact information and handed to her.

With little more than a nod, she stuffed the card into her pocket and he let a few seconds of near silence pass before promising, "I promise you that I'm going to do everything I can to find the person who did this and bring them to justice."

"Justice?" She mumbled hoarsely, and fought back an inappropriate laugh, "You're new with the GCPD, aren't you?"

With a nod he confirmed her suspicions and she let out a heavy, rattling breath as more tears fell from her eyes.

"I'm going to see my brother." Bird repeated for probably the seventh time during their conversation.
Only this time she didn't wait for a response from him as she shoved her bag of groceries into his arms and quickly hurried away –bypassing the elevator and heading for the stairwell.

••• end of flashback •••

"What?" Bird questioned as she faced her little brother.

Looking around what used to clearly be a gym that had been out of commission for at least a few years, Bruce looked down to his bare hands and admitted, "Alfred and I have been practicing with gloves."

"Mhm." Bird hummed, tilting her head to the side she questioned, "Do you plan on taking a pair of boxing gloves around with you everywhere in day-to-day life?"

"No..." He answered.

"Exactly." Bird silenced him.
Reaching out she took one of his hands and said, "We've got to get you used to fighting with your bare hands. Gotta toughen these up, okay? If someone tries to jump you on the street, even if you have a pair of gloves with you –you're not gonna have time to suit up."

"That makes sense." Bruce agreed.

As much as his encounter with his older sister from the day before had made it nearly impossible to get any sleep and even through his disappointment in her –he couldn't deny that a small part of him was excited to learn what she knew.

He'd seen her bring down men twice her size, face down weapons without showing an ounce of fear and he'd give just about anything to be able to do the same.

But it went beyond just her finally allowing him to train with her, it went all the way back to when he was still a child and Bird was a teenager and she started coming home with bruises and black eyes.
He'd watched his mom and dad grow increasingly worried about her and every time he'd ask what happened –she'd usually crack a joke about how if he thought she looked bad he should see the other person.

It stemmed back to all of the times he'd asked her questions only to be shot down and kept in the dark about her life.

To the time when he couldn't understand why their parents wouldn't let him go visit her very often after she moved out, or what she could possibly be doing that kept her so busy that she barely ever came back home.

To him, she'd always just been his big sister; bossy and impossible to get along with most times, protective and in her own way loving and supportive of him.

When he'd started to learn about the sides of her that she'd hidden, it was a hard pill to swallow.
After all, Selina had told him that Bird had reputation on the streets –that people feared her.

Dangerous; was the exact word Selina had used.

Dangerous.

If he hadn't always felt that she was hiding things from him, he'd have had an even more difficult time believing that.

After all, this was his sister. The one who used to wake up extra early before they'd have to go to school to cook him the orange-cranberry pancakes he loved so much because everyone else added too much citrus to the batter.

The day after she'd gotten her driver's license, she got him out of school in the middle of the day to take him to see a movie he'd been wanting to go to –and then took all the blame when their parents found out and even got detention at school over it.

He couldn't even count how many times she'd walked from her school's campus over to his just to sit with him at lunch because no one else would.

How could someone who'd shown him more kindness than nearly anyone else be dangerous?

Since her admission from the night before, he'd been trying to push their conversation from his mind.

He had, of course, suspected in her prior resistance to answer the question if she had ever killed someone , that she wasn't answering for a reason.
In his sleepless state, he'd quickly discovered that suspecting something and then having it confirmed were two very different things.

Alfred had killed people too –in war and under other similar circumstances; but he still believed him to be a good person.

Bruce wasn't entirely sure when, if any, situation actually called for such extreme and absolute measures, but he still believed that his sister was good too.

"Ready?" Bird questioned and Bruce tried to further push the thoughts from his mind and focus on the situation at hand.

"Ready." He answered, immediately leaning down some and putting both fists in front of him in a fighting pose as he limberly bounced back and forth on his feet.

Bird dropped her own fighting stance and watched him with a dumbstruck expression, wondering how on earth he planned to defend his own life like that.
Reaching out; she open palm popped him on the cheek.

Immediately stopping, Bruce lifted his hand to cover the stinging section of skin she'd left behind.

"What did you do that for?" He asked.

"For your own good." Bird stated, shaking her head, "What the hell were you doing?"

"Staying light on my feet." He truthfully answered, "Ready to dodge a hit..."

"But you didn't dodge my hit." Bird was fast to chime in and dismantle his defense.

"That wasn't a hit." He complained, "You slapped me."

"Let's go again." Bird didn't argue back, "Show me what Alfred's been teaching you. Try to get a hit in."

Nodding, he bounced on his feet a few times to build his energy back up and waited for her to say when.

After nearly a minute, Bird dropped her arms to her side in frustration, "Bruce, what are you waiting for?"

"Your signal." He innocently answered.

"Fine." Bird breathed, shrugging and loosening the tension that had collected in her shoulders, "On the count of three then."

Eyeing him she started, "One... two-"
When she slappedhim on the cheek again, he stumbled backwards, his mouth hanging open and eyes narrowed in both anger and confusion at her.

"What do you think is going to happen?" Bird scolded, rubbing her forehead and thinking this was going to be a much longer process than she'd anticipated.

"I expected you to count to keep your word and count like you said!"

"Seriously?" She huffed, "Bruce, if someone is trying to get you –trying to hurt you, what do you think is going to happen, huh? That they're going to walk up to you –bow in respect and wait till the count of three to make a move? No, little brother, they aren't. They're going to seize the first opportunity they get to bring you down and hesitation is the difference between life and death."

Not letting him get a word in, she lowered her voice, "Take a deep breath and a look around-"

"Why, so you can slap me again?"

"No, so that you'll realize that I'm not Alfred and this isn't Wayne Manor. I'm your sister –and this is Gotham. There are people in this city that want to hurt you –who wouldn't think twice about killing you. People who would gun two loving parents down in an ally and leave their son behind on his knees crying into his hands stained red with their blood."

"Starling-" Bruce cleared his throat. He got the message loud and clear.
This wasn't meant to be fun, but he didn't see how that warranted her being cruel.

"The truth is that you never left that night. You're still that little boy crying on the pavement between our parents' lifeless bodies-"

"No, I'm not!" He screamed at her with his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"Yes, you are!" Bird yelled back at him, "Paralyzed. Frozen with fear-"

She didn't get to finish provoking him into fighting her –he charged forward with lightning fast speed and before her mind could even process the threat; he'd delivered a blow to the center of her face hard enough that blood almost immediately started to run down onto her lips.

But the one hit was all he got in as she blocked any further attempt he made to strike her.
Block after block, ducking out of the way, weaving to the side, physically blocking and knocking his hands away with her arms.

"That's it." Bird smiled as the blood from her nose ran into her open lips and stained her teeth red, "That rage. Focus on it, harness it and draw strength from it."

"This isn't dancing." She grunted, recalling his supposed attempt to stay limber on his feet, as she dodged his fist and spun around kicking her leg out and bringing him to the ground flat out on his back.

With the air entirely knocked out of him, he stared up at her as she leaned over him and wiped the blood from her nose, "This is life or death. It's painful and it's messy, but this is how you make it in the real world."

When he didn't make an attempt to move, Bird ordered, "Get up."

"No."

"What do you mean no?" Bird asked, wiping her face again and wondering where that blind rage of his had disappeared to.

"You're right." He admitted, barely able to speak loud enough for her to hear as he still lay on his back, "I'm still the same person I was that night, Starling. Paralyzed. Frozen."

"You always will be."

Her words knocked the air out of him worse than when he'd hit the floor, but all he managed to do was nod and agree in a hoarse voice, "I know."

"Just like I'm always going to be that girl lying naked, bloody and freezing to death in an ally."

Finally opening his eyes back up, he looked at her with watery eyes.
She never spoke about what had happened to her with him.

Never.

Blowing out a heavy sigh, she sat down on the floor and he sat up to face her.

"There are some things you can't leave behind no matter how much you want to. There's not some magic word to make what happened disappear, no single part that you're able to cut out of yourself and get rid of. It's always going to be a part of you." Bird watched as tears started to pour from his eyes and it wasn't until she felt a tear of her own roll off her chin that she realized he wasn't the only one crying, "It feels like you're a puzzle with jagged edges and missing pieces and since that night you can't manage to put yourself back together. "

"We're broken, little brother." Bird choked out, not even trying to hold back display of emotions, "Probably damaged beyond repair –but we're still here. We're still alive –resilient even when we don't want to be. So the only choice we've really got is to keep fighting."

"I don't know how to get past it." Bruce said, sniffling as he tried to breath.

"I don't know that you ever will." Bird empathized, "Because that night changed everything for you. That was moment when you realized just how cold and cruel this world can be and it doesn't matter how many years go by or how many happy memories you make to help ease the dark ones –what happened that night will always be there, forever burning like an iron in the back of your mind."

"I can't promise you that anything is ever going to make what happened feel any better." Bird closed her eyes and willed her tears to slow, "But I can promise you –that if you stick with me and you learn all the things I'm trying to teach you, then you won't ever feel the way you did that night again. You will never feel that powerless, that weak, that little and helpless ever again. Okay?"

Nodding, Bruce swatted the tears from his cheeks and took in a few deep breaths in order to get a better handle on his emotions.

In a much stronger voice than he'd been able to manage for the last several minutes, he said, "I want to do something. I don't know what and I'm not sure how, but I want to do something out there-" He nodded towards the door.

"To what?" Bird strained a smiled, "Save the city?"
It was a line she'd heard over and over from Harvey Dent and Jim Gordon; so much talk of cleaning up the streets and making the city a better place.

"The people." Bruce corrected, his eyes meeting hers for a fleeting second before he looked down to the dust covered floor, "But how can I if all I'm ever going to be is who I was the night mom and dad were killed?"

"Look..." Bird breathed, wiping away the last of the tears from her face, "I don't know much about saving people or cleaning up the city –I don't entirely understand why someone would even want to bother; it is Gotham after all."
With a deep breath fueling her words, she added, "But what I do know is that even though you will always shoulder that weight of the worst night of your life, even though you'll always be that kid who saw his parents get gunned down in front of him... doesn't mean that -that's all you'll ever be."

When he was finally able to look back up at his sister's face, Bird nodded, "You can be so much more, Bruce."

"But you have to get up." She instructed as she stood up and extended her hand to him, "No matter how many times you get knocked down –you have to get back up."

Taking in a deep breath, he took a moment to let everything she was saying fully sink in before he put his hand in hers and let her help him back to his feet.

Once he was standing, he looked at the drying red streaks of blood on her face and with an expression as if he'd just been hit in the gut he apologized, "I'm sorry-"

"Make a fist." She interrupted, when he didn't immediately comply she demonstrated with her own hand and held it out in front of her as she repeated, "Make a fist."

Doing as he was told, Bruce made a fist with his dominant hand and held it out just like she was doing.

"Okay, look." Bird said, taking his hand and pointing to his fingers when she spoke, "When you punch someone with a closed fist, your first two knuckles are going to be what makes most of the contact, not your whole fist. See?"

He looked down and nodded as he saw how his index and middle finger knuckles stuck out further than the rest of his fingers.

"Now, you got a pretty good hit in." She chuckled, still aware of the throbbing from her swollen nose, "But if you strike someone with an open hand, the force of the strike is more concentrated and more dangerous to other person."

Unfolding his fingers, she tapped the heel of his palm and explained, "This is what you want to hit someone with."

Letting go and taking a couple steps back so he could see her better, she demonstrated, "Put your entire body behind the blow, lean into it."

Following her instruction he moved the same way she did, striking the empty air in front of him.

"The movement and follow through is more natural, you see?" Bird looked over at him, "If you were trying to hit someone under the chin, for example."

She turned to face him and had him make a fist with his hand, and she slowly brought it up to where his fist was just under her chin, "If you did an uppercut like this, remember the brunt of the force is only going to come from the first two knuckles. That only really gives you a small chance of landing a hit powerful enough to cause any damage or bring them down."

"Plus, you run the risk of breaking your fingers." She added, as she reached down to his wrist, "And your wrist is bent, see? You could injure yourself worse than you'd hurt them –and then you end up stuck in a fight with a bum arm and that drastically lowers your chances of winning."

"But if I were to do it like this-" Bruce followed her train of thought, and opened his hand as if he were going to get her chin with the heel of palm, "I've got a bigger surface area of my hand to use; a higher chance of actually hitting where I need to."

"Correct." Bird smiled, "And not near as much strain on your own body."

"That makes sense." Bruce couldn't help but smile back at her.

"So the next time you're gonna haul off and hit someone in the nose –same rules apply. Use the heel of your palm." Bird stated, then nudged him on the arm and added, "And stop apologizing –we're both bound to get hurt during this at some point. The sooner you make peace with that, the better."

•••

Bird had just gotten her brother dropped off at Wayne Manor and narrowly avoided a confrontation with Alfred in the process.

The butler wasn't happy at all with her taking over in teaching Bruce how to fight –but as Master Bruce had made it clear, it was his decision after all.
He was even less comfortable with the fact that the siblings were disappearing into the city.

Alfred knew, of course, that Bird wouldn't intentionally hurt or let anything bad happen to her brother, but he'd been watching her spiral down for nothing short of months now and if she wasn't in her right frame of mind then she could end up putting Bruce in real danger.

Even worse, she could be the danger herself.

Just as Bird reached the front door of the mansion and opened it, she was caught off guard when she saw Jim Gordon standing there with an arm raised like he was just about to knock.

"Jim." Bird greeted, glancing up at his still raised arm and then ducked to the side to get past him.

She'd barely made it a couple steps when she could hear his footsteps behind her.

"Bruce is inside." She dismissed, thinking he must be there to check up on her little brother.

"I came to talk to you."

Coming to a stop she hung her head and seemed heavily irritated by just his presence that day.
Turning around she let the annoyance show in her expression, "Why are you looking for me here?"

Her eyes widened some with a hint of playfulness, but he didn't miss the gleam of anger that immediately showed as well, "Ooh, let me guess. It doesn't make you look bad showing up at Wayne Manor –but if your new boss caught wind of you going to Oswald's then it wouldn't reflect well on you."
A smirk pulled a single corner of her lips, "Typical, James Gordon behavior."

"I checked there first." Jim admitted, his voice gruff and mirroring her annoyance, "Your car wasn't there and last I spoke to Alfred, he said you were teaching Bruce to fight."

"Alfred's a gossip." Bird commented, catching the detective off guard in her shift from irritation to making jokes.

It was tough enough to make the right call in approaching her when her moods shifted so heavily from day-to-day. One day she'd act like they were friends and the next it would feel like they were strangers, other times he was left trying to decode her distance from whether she was having a bad day or he'd something to anger her.

"Seriously!" She exclaimed tossing her arms out to the sides, "What do you need, Jim? Oswald's expecting me back and-"

"Did you hear about the fires last night?" He cut her off, seizing the chance to talk while she was being about as friendly as she ever was.

"No." She lied, shrugging, "What fires?"

"The two fires... both of which happened to target buildings owned by Wayne Enterprises." His eyes narrowed in an attempt to read beyond just her words, "There's talk that Penguin's people were looking for arsonists recently."

"Why would he want to burn down Wayne Enterprise buildings?" Bird's eyebrows raised, "How could that possible serve his agenda?"

"I don't know." Jim admitted, "But I think you do."

She opened her mouth, at the ready to argue with what he was saying, but he didn't have the time to listen to more of her lies.

"Something is going on. I know it and you know it." He asserted.

"You don't know nearly as much as you think you do." Bird brushed off his accusation and turned to start back towards her car.

"Why are you teaching Bruce to fight?" Jim called after her, keeping on her heels.

"I'm teaching him how to properly defend himself." Bird yelled over her shoulder at him, "Why does it matter to you anyways?"

"Because you're always planning something." Jim said with gravel, "You never fail to point out how little I know about what's really happening in Gotham –and you are constantly working an angle. Working people over for your own selfish-"

Bird slowed to a stop and closed her eyes while she pulled in a breath she shook her head.
She knew it was bound to come up sooner or later. His eavesdropping on the conversation she'd had with her lawyer and showing up just in time to hear that Erin had told Bird to keep him close.
After all, the more friends she had on the right side of the law –the better.

"You're still mad at me." She realized out loud, slowly turning back around to face him.

"I'm not-"

"You are." She argued, "That's what this is all about. What you heard Erin tell me the other day at the station."

Rather than defending herself or telling him how he'd showed up to hear the absolute worst part of the conversation, she cocked her head to the side and asked, "What angle could I possibly be working by working with Bruce to help him get stronger and defend himself?"

"I don't know." Jim openly admitted, "But I don't like it."

"You get that I'm not training him to just fight –I'm not trying to turn him into a killer." Bird angrily said, "My goal isn't to turn him into me."

"Then what is your goal?" Jim stepped forward.

"To give him a fighting chance if someone comes after him." Bird admitted, running her tongue over her lips, "I used to think that he didn't need to know this kind of stuff, you know?"

"I mean, he ran off into the city with Selina last year and I used every contact I had to track him down. He was in a building with assassins and I stormed the place unarmed; without hesitation and I'd do it again. I thought he's my kid brother and that I'd always be here to protect him, that Alfred is going to protect him..." Her voice trailed arm and her posture drooped with defeat.

"Then what happened?" He questioned.

"I realized that he's not a kid anymore and he needs to be able to hold his own if something were to happen to me. If some threat gets past Alfred and close enough to hurt him, then I want him to have a fighting chance." Bird blew out a sigh and brushed her short hair from her face, "That's it. I don't have some grand diabolical plan. You know how important my brother is to me."

She spoke in terms of 'ifs' and hypotheticals, but the look in her eyes told a different story.
The fear that something bad was headed their way was written all over her face.
And as usual, he was left in the dark wondering what she knew that he didn't.

"If Bruce is in danger, real danger, then you need to tell me." He urged, stepping even closer and wishing that his words would actually break through to her, "Do you know who the threat is?"

"Even if I did..." She sighed, "It wouldn't matter because you wouldn't believe me and my talking about it would only endanger his life further."

"Why are you so convinced I wouldn't believe you?" Jim asked, his eyes honest as he spoke.

"Because." She shrugged, "Because Harvey once told me that I was one of the bravest people he knew and that if something was cause enough to worry me, then it terrified him. So, then I go to him and tell him we're all in danger and he starts to look at me like maybe I never should have been let out of Arkham in the first place-"

"I'm not Dent." He exclaimed.
Taking a second to take a breath, he bit down on the side of his tongue and shook his head, "This is me-"

"Yes." Bird smiled but it didn't come close to reaching her eyes, "This is you. Hero Cop Jim Gordon –brazen enough to storm Falcone's mansion last year to try and take him in; knowing that he ran the entire city. You somehow manage to put your life in peril every single week. So then it raises the question of which would be worse; you not believing me and thinking I'm crazy, or the off chance that you do believe me. Then what? Storm the castle all on your own? Maybe get Bullock to tag along? You've got courage and good intentions but you are just a man and the thing Oswald and I are up against is a monster."

"If you really believe that; then how do you expect to fight and win on your own?" Jim asked, but knew better than to push her too far.
Instead of getting her to open up more or even slip up, she'd shut down entirely.

"Banking on the fact that Oswald and I are unusually hard to kill." She laughed, but couldn't even elicit a smile from the concerned detective, "We won the last war and hopefully we'll win this one too."

"And if you don't?" Jim's voice had lost any anger he'd been holding on to.

All Bird had to respond with was another apathetic shrug, but as she tried to turn away again he placed a hand on her arm to stop her.

He knew something had been different with her for a while now, but it wasn't until then that he entirely realized just how vastly different the person standing in front of him was from the woman he'd met well over a year ago.

This wasn't the same Bird who'd mock his ideas of how to clean up the city and coyly smile at him when they'd wind up in life and death situations. No, that Bird always seemed to be sure that she was going to make it out alive.
Even in the moments he was sure they'd reached the end of the rope, she never failed to have another trick up her sleeve. A back up plan that sometimes only she was privy too.

The person standing in front of him now was an entirely different creature all together.
One with empty eyes and the taste of death on her tongue; a hollowed out soul and not an ounce of hope to be found, this was someone he didn't know how to reach.

He wasn't sure if the monster she was talking about was real or only in her head, but it was clear that she believed it was real and even though she spoke of winning a war, she acted as though the battle was already lost.

"You can't do that." His mouth was finally able to form words, despite the sudden inability to breath, "You have to tell me what's going on."

Their eyes locked and in a voice just over a whisper he pleaded, "Let me help you."

"About what you heard my lawyer say that day-" She started to steer the conversation away from the feeling of impending doom hanging thickly in the air around them.

"It doesn't matter." He was quick to dismiss what had been weighing so heavily on him for days.

"It does." Bird argued, with a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips, "Erin did tell me to keep you close. That being associated with people like you and Harvey and so on; made me look better. Less guilty."

Pulling her eyes away from his and looking down to where his hand was resting on her arm from where he'd stopped her from leaving, she openly admitted, "But I didn't even know Erin last year, Jim. No one told me to keep you close all those times I put my neck on the line for you. If you'd just listened a little longer instead of getting all pissed off and interrupting us –you'd have heard me tell her that I kept you close because I care about you and not because I planned on using you for anything."

Gently, pulling out of his grip she glanced up at his face one last time before she got into her car and drove away, with her words lingering in the air long after her tail lights were out of sight.

•••

"Finally!" Oswald airily huffed when Bird entered the large dining room.

He'd been pacing back and forth for close to an hour waiting on his friend to show up after her meeting with Selina Kyle.
The young teen was supposed to see the Pike family to retrieve what they'd gotten out of the safe at one of the buildings they'd burned down for them.

They'd all been waiting anxiously to see what was so important to Galavan that he'd had Sid Bunderslaw's eye removed for access to the safe.

"Sorry." She apologized, "Got held up."

With that she walked over to him and handed over a large, antique knife and explained, "Selina said this was all they found in the safe."

"A knife?" Butch asked out loud what they were all thinking.
How could one antique dagger be that important to Galavan?

"Yeah." Bird said as she sat down at the table and looked over to where Butch was standing and complained, "Three hundred and fifty dollars? That's all you said you'd pay her?"

"She asked for seven." He proudly admitted, jutting a thumb towards himself, "Got her down to three-fifty."

"A girl's gotta eat, Butch." Bird sighed.

"Hey, you wanna give away handouts to the kid then next time we need something –you go and see her yourself, alright?" He argued back, loosening his tie.
Last time he checked they were in the business of making a profit, not charity work.

"I will!" Bird yelled over the end of his sentence.

"Bird..." Oswald said, as he finished inspecting the dated weapon.
Trailing his thumb over the sigil at the end of the gold plated handle; he questioned, "Is this what I think it is?"

"Yep." She nodded, then gave a quick shrug to show that she didn't know anything else about it.

"What?" Butch questioned, looking between the best friends.

"It doesn't make any sense." Oswald answered, turning the knife in his hands to show the intricate carving to him, "This is the Wayne family crest."

"So what?" Butch asked, causing them both to jerk their heads in his direction when he didn't seem to be picking up on how strange this new revelation made the entire ordeal.

Dropping the large knife with a clank on the table, Oswald leaned against the arm rest of the high back chair positioned at the head of the table and asked, "Why does Galavan want an antique knife that belonged to the Waynes?"

When no one had an answer his hand trembled as he pointed at the weapon, "There's something here. Something to understanding Galavan; to beating him."

"So all we gotta do is find someone who knows old Gotham." Butch offered, "There's this lady who runs an antique shop in my old neighborhood."

When he was met by two skeptical expressions, he sighed, "Trust me, she knows things."

"Actually..." Bird cut in as she looked to her best friend, "I have to tell you something... it's about Lily."

"Your mom?" Butch asked and Oswald leaned over the table same to get a better look at her.

"She, uh..." Bird shook her head, "She's been working for Galavan."

A slew of emotions twisted up the sharp features of Oswald's face; his mouth hung open like the entrance to a endless black hole.

He sputtered several indiscernible noises and scrambled to jump up from the chair he was sitting in.
Bird quickly got to her own feet, so fast that she knocked over the chair she'd been sitting in.

"Oswald-" She tried to explain, but the damage was already done.
He was sure her actually plunging a knife into his heart couldn't have hurt near as bad as when her admission sliced him open.

Butch's eyes widened as he looked between them.
The pair of friends had both seemed to be growing increasingly paranoid and unstable.
It was just mere days ago that he'd witnessed Oswald beat the employee,who'd delivered news of the count house raid, to within barely an inch of life.

At times he wasn't even sure Bird was aware of what was going on around her.
Her behavior was more than erratic and she switched between moods faster than one could hit a button to change channels on television set.

If he was being honest, neither of them were all that stable or put together back when they were working under Fish –but this was a different game entirely; at least before they seemed to have a grip on reality.

"No!" Oswald's voice cracked and reached a high octave, "No, no, no!"

"How c-could y-you?" He frantically stuttered.
Unable to stop the thoughts in his head of wondering how long she'd been working against him.

He knew better than to fully put his trust in any one person, but out of everyone he'd always held the highest degree of trust in her.

"I haven't known very long!" Bird screamed back at him, trying to break through the jittery, nervous and rage filled mess he'd so quickly spiraled into, "I didn't tell you for your own good."

Her attempt to defend her unforgivable actions only served to anger him further.
The dark crimson drapes were turning into visions of blood running down the walls and puddling up on the floor.
The fire raging in the hearth suddenly felt as though the heat it was emitting was sweltering enough to melt the flesh right off his bones.

Both Bird and Butch caught Oswald's line of sight briefly drop to the knife on the table, before he looked back at Bird as if he could no longer even see her.
It was just anger and rage present on his face now.
An expression both of them had seen many times before he'd snap and blood would be spilled.

All three of them went for the knife, but Oswald managed to snatch it up first and he stumbled backwards to get out of the arm span from either of them.

With gritted teeth and wild eyes, he tightly gripped onto the antique handle and pointed the blade towards Bird when took a step closer.

"Boss, come on. You don't need that." Butch tried to reason with him.

"Leave us!" Oswald shouted, his nose wrinkled and the red blotches starting to show darker against his pale skin.

"Boss-"

"GO!" Oswald screamed.

Despite having been conditioned to follow Oswald's every order, Butch had fought and struggled against it once before when Fish had returned to Gotham and he couldn't risk his right hand man fighting against it again to come to Bird's aid.

"Just go." Bird agreed; knowing that whatever was going to happen was between herself and Oswald –just them and no one else.

Once they were alone, Bird's gaze fell from his eyes down to the where he was still clutching onto the knife.

She couldn't even begin to count how many times in the past year he'd became enraged with her for letting her emotions cloud her judgement and alter their plans to take over the city.

How ironic it seemed now, when the truth was that he was guilty of the very same thing.
She knew he'd also fell prey to the weight of his own emotions; that he was capable of feeling things just as deeply, if not even more so, than she did.

"What are you going to do with that?" Bird brought her voice down to a suitable level for being in the same room as the one she was speaking to, "Hmm?"

She could see the muscles in his jaw tighten, but he seemed incapable of forming words and responding to her.

"Am I going to get a chance to explain?" She verbally pushed him.

Which only angered him further, how she could seem so calm and cool while he was pointing the end of a very sharp weapon at her.
Clearly, it seemed to him, that she didn't think he had it in him.

His breath grew increasingly labored, each puff of oxygen seemed harder to pull in than the one before.
It was usually way before he hit this point that he'd have grown numb, not care at all what would happen to the person standing in front of him; but not this time.
Not with her. Everything was always different when it came to Bird –even when he'd wish it wasn't.

Oswald let out a warning hiss of air from between his barred teeth when Bird advanced towards him.

"Do it." Bird softly said as she continued forward until she stopped just in front of him and reached down, taking hold of his wrist and moving his arm up until the tip of the antique knife was angled at her heart and stepped even closer until she could feel the pressure from it against her skin.

She watched tears begin to gloss the surface of his eyes and cling to his lash line.
He stepped back away from her, letting the knife fall from his hand and clank against the floor with his entire body shaking.

He looked down to his sweaty palm and rubbed his hand on the side of his clothes.

"You can't do it." She pointed out, "You can't kill me anymore than I could kill you, Oswald."

"You might as well have." He mumbled under his breath, looking more fragile and broken then she could ever remember seeing him before.
"Galavan has my mother and if you've turned against me then what do I have left? Nothing."

"I didn't turn against you." Bird was finally able to explain. "I was trying to tell you that I hadn't known very long myself and I didn't tell you for your own good, Oswald."

Lowering his head he gave her a disbelieving look from under his brows –silently letting her know he wasn't buying what she was trying to sell him.

"I'm serious!" She exclaimed, "One wrong move here and we're as good as dead. Then he's got no reason to keep your mom alive. It will open the door for him to try and get the company from my brother and whatever else he's got planned for him. We have to be smart about this."

Shaking her head, Bird reminded him, "I seem to remember you nearly getting yourself killed last year because you made a move against Fish before we'd planned and I remember sitting at a table with Don Maroni while one of his men held your face to a meat slicer in the kitchen because you'd jumped the gun on that situation too-"

"Say no more." He sighed holding a hand up.
He didn't need to be reminded of all the times he'd nearly gotten them both killed and now with a clearer mind he could now understand why'd she'd been reluctant to openly share her newly learned information with him.

But, the understanding did little to ease the sting still left behind from feeling slighted and betrayed by someone who meant so much.

Bird launched into explaining everything she'd learned from her biological mother.
How Galavan was wanting to take over Wayne Enterprises and how months ago when she'd been drugged and nearly killed that it was Galavan's way of getting back at her mom for straying for their plan.

"I don't know how long she's known him." Bird admitted, "Or even how they crossed paths, but I know she knows more than she told me that day."

"Do you believe what she's already told you?" He questioned.

"I don't know." Bird shrugged, "I don't trust her, but she seemed honest enough in most of what she said, but then again a lie with a heart of truth can be sold easily... so I really don't know."

"Get in contact with her." Oswald instructed, "Bring her here."

•••

"I thought you were a goner." Butch admitted as he stood to the side of the table and watched as Bird sat in her usual spot just to the side of the head of the table where Oswald sat in a chair that was more a throne.

Tilting his head to the side he admitted, "Or maybe him. Possibly the both of ya."

"We weren't going to kill each other, Butch." Bird replied but she didn't take her eyes off the computer tablet she was holding in her hands.

"How do you figure that?" He questioned.
He'd seen the both of them drop countless bodies without a second thought.
They'd worked under Fish for years while conspiring against her the entire time.

He was programmed to follow Oswald and had always been fond of Bird, but either of them were capable of nearly anything and even knowing how close they were –he still wouldn't put it past of them to snap and react violently to the other.

"He had that knife when I left the room-"

"He can't kill me." Bird argued with her nose still buried in the tablet, "And I can't kill him. That's just how it is."

Looking up just long enough to see the growing look of confusion and doubt on his face, she stated, "Codependency."
With that she looked back down to the tablet and shrugged, "Or at least that's what a therapist once told me."

Shaking his head, Butch started to admit that he didn't understand it, that he couldn't come close to understanding either one of them.
But instead his attention was drawn to the screen she was holding.

His eyebrows furrowed as could easily tell she was watching a feed from some security camera of a man setting a pizza box down on the kitchen island and then going to the cabinet for a plate.

"Wait a minute..." He realized out loud at the same time he spoke, "That's that DA of yours, isn't it?"

Quickly Bird darkened the tablet and tried to hide it, but he'd already seen what she'd been up to.

"What the hell are you doing?" Butch loudly questioned.

"Keeping him safe." She quickly defended.

"Uh huh..." Butch replied in disbelief, "And does he know you're spying on him?"

"I'm not spying." Bird lied with stubbornness in her tone.

"We could also go with obsessing, stalking-" He started to poke fun at her.

"He could be a target." Bird angrily pushed the words out from between her gritted teeth.

Not willing to give him more time to mock her, Bird quickly added, "Galavan wants something from my brother, something he needs him alive for. So for the moment he's about as safe as he can be. But then there are people like Harvey Dent who don't serve Galavan any purpose other than to be used against me."

"Like Penguin's mom." Butch quietly agreed.

"Exactly like that." She nodded, "I don't want him getting dragged into this."

"And if you have to cross over into crazy ex-girlfriend territory along the way, then so be it?" He said, trying to get her to see that this behavior wasn't exactly normal.
He had a feeling her having the house bugged and spying on him had a lot more to do with their past relationship than it did with their current Galavan situation.

"That's not what happening!" Bird snapped at him.

"What isn't?" Oswald asked as he walked into the room with a wine glass in his hand containing water and a fizzing seltzer tablet.

"Nothing." Bird side-eyed Butch and then looked back to Oswald and questioned, "Any word from Victor?"

"Wow."

The trio's attention was pulled to the doorway of the large dining room where Lily emerged from the shadows with Victor Zsasz right behind her.

"Wow." Lily repeated now that all eyes were on her, "He really does look like a penguin." She observed with a smirk pulled at her dark cherry painted lips.

Forcing a smile, Oswald stood from where he'd just taken his seat and hummed, "Hm. Lilith, I presume?"

"Lily." She corrected before concentrating her gaze in the direction of her daughter, "And the next time you want to speak to me, you could pick up a phone."
Nodding to where Victor was she complained, "You didn't have to send the dogs after me."

"I'll be damned..." Butch breathed under his breath as just how much Bird and her birther mother resembled each other and not just in the physical sense.

"Victor is a friend." Bird retorted, "And you shouldn't be so quick to make enemies. We don't even know if you're worth keeping alive yet."

The corner of Oswald's mouth twitched in a hint of a smile at Bird's attitude, before he offered a nod to Victor in signal to leave them alone. That for the time being his services weren't needed.

"Sorry." Lily replied, glancing over to make sure Victor was gone before she stepped closer to the table and pointed out, "I'm just a little confused. Last we spoke I thought we were making progress and now you're sending hired guns after me?"

"Please." Oswald motioned to the table, "Have a seat."

"What is this about?" Lily wasted no time in trying to get to the bottom of why she'd been brought there, but before anyone could answer her she spotted the antique knife on the table.

It was easy enough to see that she knew what she was looking at.

"You can pick it up if you like." Oswald graciously said while trying to get a further read on her reaction.

"No." Lily declined, "I'd rather not."

"We need to know about that knife." Bird explained, "Everything you know about it and why the hell Theo Galavan has us torching buildings to retrieve it."

"You really think you can beat him, don't you?" She asked with an amused expression looking between her daughter and then over to the small statured man who was ruling the criminal underworld of Gotham.

"Yes." Oswald's jaw tightened and his body tensed up with his answer.

"Okay..." Lily sighed, raising her hands up in surrender when she observed that he looked to be on the verge of picking the knife up and using it on her, "I just don't see how the story of some old cursed knife is going to aid you in that."

"Cursed?" Butch picked up on her choice of words.

"Yes, cursed." Lily sharply responded, "Did I stutter?"

"Look lady..." Butch left an opened ended threat in the air as he adjusted his tie and looked down to where Oswald was sitting for a clue on their next move.

"Now, tell us about this knife, or I will use it." Oswald threatened.

Bird nodded along, showing that she had no intention of stopping him if it came down to that.

"Like I said..." She sighed, drumming her manicured nails against the polished tabletop, "The knife has a cursed history –dating back probably around two-hundred years."

Lily continued to explain how hundreds of years ago, Gotham high society was ruled by five familes; the Elliots, the Kanes, the Crownes, the Dumas and the most powerful of them all –the Waynes.

"The Wayne's had a daughter; Celestine. By all accounts she was absolutely stunning –flawless porcelain skin, thick dark curls with deep brown eyes." Lily told the story of her ancestors, and Oswald found his gaze pulled over to Bird as he listened to Lily speak.
"She was a true daughter of Gotham –the crown jewel of the entire city and was also promised to the eldest son of the Elliot family."

"But?" Bird spoke up when the story slowed to a halt.

"But." Lily nodded, "One of the Dumas sons, Caleb also sought-after her. The story goes that during an Easter party held at Wayne Manor both Celestine and Caleb disappeared and were later discovered together by the Wayne men."

"Caleb insisted they were in love." She continued, "Celestine, on the other hand, swore on her mother's grave that Caleb had forced himself on her."

Lily looked around the room and continued to tell the history of the knife.

Tell them of how the Waynes were not only enraged by what had happened, but it also shamed the entire family. After that, no one from the other prominent families would want Celestine's hand in marriage, not even the Elliot boy she'd been promised to.

The family wanted justice for the supposed crime committed against Celestine and the dark mark of shame the family had been struck with.

That very night, Celestine's brother, Jonathan Wayne delivered the punishment and cut off one of Caleb's hands –justice for taking something that had been promised to someone else.
She told them of how after that the Wayne's all but ran every last Dumas out of Gotham.

"Caleb was sent into exile overseas, to a religious sect founded by his family's patron saint and Celestine died an old maid." Lily finished, "Any remnants of the Dumas family was forced to change their names."

"Those remnants of the Dumas family... to what did they change their name?" Oswald caught on.

"Aren't you quick?" Lily commented, "But from the look on your face I can tell you've already guessed the answer."

"Galavan." Bird answered out loud, but couldn't help but add, "I can hold a grudge as well as anyone –but we're talking about something that went down centuries ago..."

"You don't understand." Lily argued, "Our family, The Waynes, wouldn't even let the Dumas name be mentioned by the press. They seized the Dumas' holdings and properties and banished them socially. Streets and buildings were renamed. They destroyed everything the family had –up to and including their very name. They were completely wiped from Gotham's history."

"And this is the very knife that maimed his ancestor." Oswald realized picked the large antique up and trailing his thumbs over the Wayne family crest again. "This is a blood feud for Galavan. He wants revenge against the Waynes."

•••