"We must be willing to get rid of the life we planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us." - Joseph Campbell

•••

Folding up the clothes she'd slept in the night before, Bird added them to her nearly full overnight bag.

Turning in a circle in the middle of the guest room she'd called hers for the weekend, she made sure she wasn't going to leave any of her belongings behind.

She blew out a sigh when she spotted the charging cable to her cellphone still plugged in next to the bed.

Quickly unplugging it, she dropped in on her pajamas in the bag and got to work zipping it shut.

Oswald had asked her to stay late in the day to join them for one last dinner before she headed back to Wayne Manor, but she had a feeling if she agreed to that -that it would turn into her staying the night again.

Which, in truth, she wouldn't have minded. Spending time with Oswald was always one of her favorite pastimes and she also felt a growing connection to Elijah.

But it was her trust in the older man that left her feeling confident about her return to Gotham.

Grace and her adult children might not have been the friendliest people she'd ever met, but they were tolerating her friend and she was sure with Elijah in the picture that they'd continue to act as one big happy family.

"Oswald?" Bird called out as she stepped off the last stair and looked around.

No one answered her but it was only seconds later that she heard his laugh ring out from a room off the left.

"Bird!" He greeted as soon as his friend stepped into the room.

Looking up from where he was sitting, Elijah warmly smiled, "Afternoon, dear."

"Afternoon." She greeted back smiling at them both.

"You must join us." Elijah invited motioning with a hand.

"For what?" Bird asked, as she glanced down to her phone to check the time.

"Board games." Oswald beamed a wide smile.

Halting all movement, Bird couldn't hide the shocked look on her face once she was able to repeat back, "Board games?"

"We're just setting up for a new one." He nodded as he scooted over on the couch and patted the cushion next to him.

"Board games." An erratic laugh slipped out, "Sure, why not."

As she took her seat next to her best friend, she watched as Elijah poured her glass of fresh lemonade from the pitcher set up on the small round table with snacks.

"Thank you." She nodded.

Surveying the stack of old cardboard boxes that looked to have been sitting untouched for quite some time due the dust buildup, Bird asked, "What are we playing?"

Never in her life did she imagine she'd be playing board games with Oswald and his father. Then again not many things in her life had happened the way she'd imagined.

"Hmm..." Elijah thoughtfully hummed as he eyed the board games Oswald had retrieved from an old bookcase earlier in the day. "Perhaps a game of cards instead?"

Bird was about to agree, when Grace's voice cut shrilly through the house, "Elijah!"

Before anyone could respond to her, she marched into the room with Sasha and Charles just mere steps behind, "There you are. Elijah, brace yourself. I'm afraid we have some very bad news."

"Oh dear..." He quietly commented, a look of worry immediately taking over his aged face.

In their time together, he hadn't seen his wife upset very often. Internally he tried to prepare for the countless worst case scenarios starting to take up residence in his mind.

"Charles was at the public library today-" She began to say, but Charles quickly cut her off as he chimed in, "Research for the novel I'm writing."

"Ah. Of course." Bird muttered under her breath.

In the days she'd been there she hadn't see Grace nor her children contribute much to the household aside from showing up for meals and saying goodbye as they'd head out on shopping trips.

They seemed all to keen to rely on the staff at the house for cooking and cleaning and any other day-to-day chores.

The same probably could be said of her own family, only the Grace and her children showed little to no respect for anyone working under them.

Everything Bird had seen just continued to prove that she'd hit the nail on the head when she'd pegged Grace as someone who was solely with Elijah for his fortune.

Then again, maybe Oswald's presence had just disrupted the entire house on such a level that this wasn't the usual dynamic. She had no way of knowing for sure, but she wasn't fond of any of Oswald's step family.

"I was reading some old newspapers, and I made an alarming discovery." Charles continued while he had everyone's attention.

With a heavy breath and a look of horror on her face, Grace looked to her husband, "My dear..." She pulled in another breath, dragging the suspense out for much longer than necessary, "Oswald is not the nice young man he says he is. If we didn't lead such sheltered lives here, we would know what the whole world knows. He's a notorious criminal. We've been sheltering a killer."

Opening up a folded copy of the Gotham Gazette, Grace revealed the cover was a picture of Oswald with the bolded title 'Penguin Busted!'.

Bird looked over to where Oswald was sitting beside her, his eyes pinned shut and head lowered in shame.

"Wait just a minute-" Bird argued as she quickly rose to her feet.

In response the three of them gasped and backed away as if they were in immediate physical danger.

"Uh-uh." Grace was quick to silence her with a wave of her index finger, "Just when we thought it couldn't get worse... we found this!"

Unfolding the next paper she'd had in hand, Bird's jaw tensed as she stared at the headline 'Loony Bird?' With the subtitle reading 'Wayne girl found unfit to strand trial for triple homicide.'

The dark text was positioned right above a rather unflattering picture of Bird in her Arkham attire the day she'd been transferred there.

"Elijah!" Grace called out, "We've been housing two dangerous criminal under the same roof as we eat and sleep. This is-"

"While you were rooting through newspapers at the library, did you happen to find the issue of the Gazette where I was released from Arkham... because because I was framed? I never killed those people." Bird asserted.

"No." Sasha was quick to fire back, "We didn't see anything like that in the papers."

"Sort of convenient." Bird continued, "Oswald and I have both been talked about several times in the papers and yet the only issues you come armed with are the ones that paint us as blood thirsty killers?"

"We could have all been raped and murdered in our beds!" Grace nearly shrieked to stretch her voice volumes above the tone Bird was using.

"Raped and murdered." Sasha repeated her mother's words.

Grace handed the newspaper over to Elijah, who questioned, "They call you The Penguin?"

Jumping to his feet, Oswald's entire body was trembling with tears in his eyes as he could already envision the new family he'd found beginning to hate and fear him for things he'd done in the past.

Grace backed up even further from where Oswald was now standing next to Bird.

"To be fair... ... I never raped anybody." Oswald's voice shook as he spoke. Trying to offer up any sort of defense and ease their fear.

"Yeah!" Bird confidently nodded, "He's never raped anyone."

Looking at the pair of friends as if they'd sprouted a dozen extra limbs, Grace sarcastically exclaimed, "Oh, well, that's a mercy, now, isn't it?"

"But he's killed people!" Sasha argued and Charles smirked at Bird when he added, "They both have."

"We all have our demons." Elijah cut in as he also stood to his feet and placed a hand on Oswald's shoulder, "We're all sinners."

When he saw the shocked look on his wife's face, Elijah continued, "My son told me about his past. He just didn't tell me how famous he was. You're too modest, son."

Bird and Oswald both looked over to where Elijah was wearing a proud smile as he looked back down to the paper in his hands.

"We should frame it." Bird commented with her lips curving up into a smile.

"There's an idea." Elijah chuckled along with her.

Oswald looked between his father and his best friend with a growing confused expression as if his ears were deceiving him.

As if this were a dream where he could once again know an ounce of the unconditional love his mother would always show him.

This wasn't happening, Grace thought to herself.

She'd just brought proof that they were housing a pair of homicidal lunatics and her husband wasn't the least bit rattled by the revelation.

"Elijah... a violent criminal in our house?" She gasped, hand over heart like she might faint from the shock.

"Grace, relax, he's changed. Redeemed." Turning to Oswald, he questioned, "You're not this man anymore, are you?"

"Oh, no, sir." He stammered to answer his father.

"But how... h-how do you know? How do you know he's not?" Grace demanded to know.

"I've looked into his soul. I've seen his beautiful heart." Elijah smiled.

"And what about her?" Charles asked, pointing to Bird.

"I've undergone quite the transformation, myself," Bird danced around giving a straight answer, "Some of us are still works in progress."

"Aren't we all?" Elijah smiled with a nod of approval before he looked back down to the newspaper and began to read the article written about his son, "The Dapper Gangland Kingpin. What a name."

With a laugh, he took the paper with him to the next room to read what the gazette had to say about his son, while Grace and her children scurried off to another room.

"Am I...am I dreaming?" Oswald questioned once he was left alone with Bird.

"Nope." She ran a hand through her hair, "That really just happened."

His mouth hung open as he stared down to the floor, unable to reconcile in his head how someone who'd done as many bad things as he had, could ever deserve to have two wonderful parents who'd love him despite of all the crimes he'd committed.

"Are you okay?" Bird asked, turning to face him.

With rapid blinks and a few sniffles he nodded, "He still loves me?"

"You are his son." Bird reminded, laying her hands on his upper arms and trying to get him to look at her. "And as much as I'm going to miss seeing your face every day... I think this is exactly where you need to be."

"I'm home." He nodded as a single tear left a trail down one of his cheeks.

"I'm home." He repeated the sentiment as if he was finally able to breath after years with no air.

His excitement lessened with a jolt of pain in his chest at her words.

You -you could stay..." He offered, "I'd have to check with my father first, but he already seems to adore-"

"I can't stay." Bird interrupted. Her brows furrowed, "I have to get back to the city. I have a lot to do. Starting with getting my own place and setting a meeting with the board of my family's company."

"But-" He began to argue.

"And you're going to be fine." She assured him, "You have an amazing father and you don't need me right now."

"I'll always need you, Bird." He promised. His words brought a soft smile to her face as she nodded and replied, "And I, you. But right now someone needs me more and-"

"Jim Gordon?" He easily guessed.

When she cocked her head to the side with a curious expression, he strained a smile as he explained, "Something has been on your mind. I just assumed..." Clearing his throat, he shook his head, "If you must return to Gotham, then I understand. But I hope you'll stop by for the occasional visit?"

"I will." She promised.

The smile fell from his lips when he saw the expression change on her face.

"Bird?" He stepped closer, as if he weren't already standing closer than the average person would, "What is it?"

"I need you to promise me that you'll be careful." Her tone was serious with a stern expression on her face to match, "Watch out for yourself, okay?"

The smile returned as he chuckled, "I'm with family, Bird. I hardly think I'm in any danger-"

"Your dad is a great man." Bird whole-heatedly expressed, "But watch out for Grace and the others, okay?"

"Okay." He agreed, if for no other reason than to ease her nerves.

It was a little while later that Bird found Elijah in the front sitting room next to the warm fire place, still looking through the outdated issues of the Gotham Gazette.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm heading home." She called out with a light knock of her knuckles against the wood framed doorway.

"So soon?" Elijah questioned as he folded up the paper and laid it to the side.

"It's been days." Bird reminded him as she watched him get to his feet.

"Only a couple of them." He smiled, before holding a hand up and in understanding said, "I do hope you'll come back to see us again soon."

"That's the plan." She nodded.

Oswald had told her that his father had some health problems, mostly heart related. He'd been told by doctors that he had a hole in his heart that only kept getting bigger in time.

Her own parents had been in good health up until their deaths.

She couldn't imagine what it would be like to watch someone you love get sicker and sicker until they were gone.

Silently, she hoped that Oswald would get to spend a great many years making up for lost time and maybe there would be an operation or procedure that could fix Elijah.

Oswald had suffered enough in his life and Bird could only hope that he wouldn't have to deal with losing his father so soon after his mother's death.

"Good." Elijah smiled as he stepped closer, "Do you need help with your bags? I'll see if Charles-"

"I've only got the one." She nodded down to where she'd sat her bag on the floor, "I tend to pack light. I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay this weekend."

"You're welcome. I'm so glad you could make it and I want you to know that you're always welcome here." He extended an open invitation for her come around whenever she pleased.

Bird smiled and nodded her head, turning around to leave she started to reach for her bag before she stopped and stood in silence for.

"Bird?" Elijah questioned, concern in his tone.

"Thank you." She repeated.

"Oh." He laughed, "Really, it's no trouble. This old house gets lonely..."

"Not just for letting me stay." She finally turned back around to face him, "For being so great to Oswald."

"You see..." Bird cleared her throat, "You've been so kind to him and that isn't something he's been shown much of in his life."

With a smile just as warm as the fire that set the room aglow, Elijah stepped forward and placed a hand on her arm as he said, "I wish I'd known about him much sooner, but it eases this old man's mind to know that my son has someone like you in his life, Bird. The friendship... the bond you both share, it's beautiful."

"For a long time we were pretty much all each other had." She started say, letting out a heavy breath of air she realized, "That feels like it's been ages ago now. So much has changed, we've both changed, but somehow..."

She gave a shrug and Elijah nodded, "True friendships can withstand the winds of change and the sands of time."

"Take care of him." Bird softly said as she stepped forward and hugged him, "And take care of yourself."

She might have only known him for a few days, but it felt like much longer. There was a rare comfort in his presence that she'd only felt with a few other people in her life.

••• weeks later •••

Bird opened her purse and reached in for her phone to see if there was any news from Oswald on his father's condition.

It a few days earlier that he'd called her in a panic because Elijah had collapsed and after the doctor had been called, they'd found out his condition was worsening; an infection had taken hold.

According to Oswald, the doctor had insisted it was time to make sure all of his affairs were in order.

After seeing she hadn't missed anything, Bird flipped her phone shut and dropped it back into her purse before she slid down in the car seat some and rested her head against the smooth leather seating.

With a blank expression on her face, she watched the city buildings blur by as her driver sped up to switch lanes on their way to Blackgate.

It had only been a few weeks since she'd spent the weekend with Oswald and new found family, but it very much felt as if she had been there only the day before.

She'd kept herself busy nearly every waking minute of the day, tried her best to not let her mind start to wander.

Whenever she'd start to think of everything that was weighing on her, it got harder and harder to breathe.

Helpless wasn't a feeling she handled well; but that's exactly what she'd been feeling.

Bruce was still staying with Selina on the streets and the longer he was gone the more she started to worry that when he'd come home, he wouldn't be the same person he was when he'd left.

If he even came home at all.

Gotham had a way of getting inside of people, latching on with thorny roots and twisting them all up until something unrecognizable took their place.

Even though she tried to talk to Oswald on the phone every couple of days, she was still having trouble accepting that this is who her friend was going to be from now on.

And even though she trusted Elijah, the same couldn't be said for Grace.

So she was still living with the concern that he might not be as safe as he, himself, believed his situation to be.

Then there was Jim.

Who was still starting out his forty year sentence and had already been in a handful of fights.

Bullock, who'd been so convinced he could crack the case and find out who framed his partner had been starting to spend less nights with the evidence and more time at a local bar.

Knowing Jim's life was in a constant state of imminent danger had been wearing on them both.

Whenever she'd let her mind or hands idle for too long all the worries started to creep in and once they took root and spread it was nearly impossible to get the noise in her head to quiet.

So, the solution had been to stay as busy as she could.

She'd been at Blackgate for every single visitation to see Jim and had spent more than a handful of nights looking over the case with Bullock.

Not that either of them were having much luck figuring out who could have done such a perfect job framing him -or even why someone would go to that much trouble.

Erin had helped her revise the proposal to the board for the shelters that Bird had found when she was cleaning out her parents bedroom weeks ago.

In fact, that was where she'd spent her morning; finally bringing the proposal to the board.

Aside from that she'd found her own place. A fully furnished four bedroom townhouse that was perfect in nearly every single way, even it's location in one of the historic parts of town.

She'd always loved the old buildings around there and once she saw the inside of the townhouse she was sold.

Aside from that she'd been spending the rest of her free time going between her new house and back to Wayne Manor.

She was shaken from her thoughts when the car slowed to a stop.

Pulling her sunglasses off, she dropped them on the seat next to her and then got to work on removing her jewelry.

She knew very well what she was and wasn't allowed to wear for prison visits now.

"That's some ride." Bullock let out a low whistle as he eyed the car while Bird's driver opened the door and she stepped out of the back.

"I just came from a meeting at Wayne Enterprises." She explained, adjusting the hem of her dress, "Sorry I'm late. How is he?"

"Don't know." Bullock nodded for her to follow him as they headed for the visitors entrance of Blackgate, "I haven't gone in yet."

"Why not?" Bird complained, wondering how long he'd been waiting outside of the prison, "Visiting hours are almost over and-"

"You know why." He asserted, turning to face her just outside of the door, before adding, "Hours don't matter. My guy is working today."

Bird nodded. She knew exactly why Bullock wasn't wanting to see Jim by himself, the last couple times he'd asked about Lee and they'd heard news recently that neither of them wanted to be the one to have to relay.

She was at least glad that Bullock's friend was working, that meant they'd be able to go to the small outdoor area instead of the main visitors room inside.

Might not have sounded like much of a treat, but the privacy was nice and it was an added bonus that she wouldn't be subjected to jeers and the occasional lewd comment from other male inmates.

Plus, it meant more time for Jim to get some fresh air considering they were only allowed a small amount of time outside each day.

Bird eyed the guard stationed at the door and then as usual her eyes drifted up to where the two armed ones from above were pacing in their usual manner.

Drumming her fingers against the picnic table, Bird stared down to her manicured nails and then back over to the doors as she waited for either Jim or Bullock to join her.

As they were signing in and going through the metal detectors, Bullock's friend had pulled him to the side and with every passing minute she sat outside alone, the knot of nerves in her stomach grew.

It wasn't too long ago that the warden had moved Jim out of protective custody and into general population; which now left him exposed and vulnerable.

With every new visit to Blackgate, Bird swore Jim had more bruises on his face than the last time.

Now she was starting to worry something worse might have happened.

That was until there was a loud buzzer sound from the door the inmates would come out of and Bird looked up to see Jim.

She breathed a sigh of relief, even if it was a small one.

His lip was busted open and the bridge of his nose donned a very fresh cut and dark bruising.

"What happened this time?" Bird questioned as Jim sat down across the table from her.

Glancing up to the guards stationed above, Jim gave a small shrug, "Same old."

Bird's forehead lined at the despondent way in which he spoke.

She could already see the change in him since being moved in the rest of the prison population.

It was an entire different world inside of those walls.

One in which he hadn't seen much of when he was in protective custody, but now he was watching drug deals and other illegal trades happening on a daily basis while the guards sat back and the warden was lined his own pockets.

He knew he needed to keep his head down and not draw more attention to himself than he already had, but badge or not -he was a cop.

It was in his blood and he didn't know how to be anything else.

Turning the cheek and not intervening was next to impossible for him.

Shaking his head and wanting to think about literally anything aside from his current state of living, Jim nodded to her clothes and complimented, "You look nice."

"Thanks." She blew out a breath as she said, "I had a meeting with Wayne Enterprises today. That's why I got here late."

"The one about opening up a new foundation?" Jim remembered from their last conversations both in person and on the phone, "And opening up shelters? How'd it go?"

"Good." She answered with a single clap of her hands, leaving them clasped, she seemed astonished by it herself, "It went really, really good actually. They're going to break ground on the shelters within the next few months, which just feels really fast, because now I've got fundraisers and charity auctions to host and I'm used to attending those events -not being the one in charge of them."

"Wow." Jim's eyebrows raised, "That's really great. Sounds like a lot of work, but it will be worth it. Those shelters -the whole program is really going to help a lot of people."

"I know and it's going to be good practice for next year." Bird's eyes widened.

"What's next year?" Jim questioned.

"Well..." She breathed, "The community outreach director is retiring at the end of the year and the board has offered me the position. I don't know if Bruce talked them into it or what happened exactly and I also don't know why I agreed to it..."

With a nervous laugh she reached up and rubbed her temples, "They were talking about the positive press coverage I've had recently and how it would be really nice to have a Wayne more involved with the day-to-day ins and outs of it all and I don't know, it just... it just felt like the right time, I guess?"

"That's great." Jim repeated, doing his best to keep a smile on his face for her sake.

She'd kept her word and been there to visit him every single available day, she'd taken his calls even when he could only get phone time at odd hours and as happy as he was to see things falling into place for her -seeing how much was changing only served as a reminder that his life was on hold.

He wasn't a detective anymore.

He was told when to sleep, wake up, eat and shower.

Every single minute of his days were already planned out for him.

The monotony was really starting to weather his resolve and now being out with the rest of the population, he was starting to feel a sense of doom.

The wing his cell was on was known as World's End, the day he was transferred there the warden told him it earned that name because for most everyone there, it's the end; only way out would be parole or a body bag.

And nobody gets parole.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Harvey called out as he entered the sitting area with them, "Get a load of this guy! You look good, brother. This place agrees with you. Maybe I'll check in. Lose a few pounds, hmm? Get a cool tat."

Bird eyed the detective as he walked closer, trying to see from the look on his face just how serious the talk with his friend had been, but if it was of something dire -he wasn't giving it away.

"You don't need to check up on me." Jim said the same thing he told them both every time one would come to see him.

Though this was the first time since his first day there that they'd been there at the same time.

"You kidding me?" Bullock slapped him on the shoulder as he walked around to take a seat next to Bird, "Highlight of my week is seeing your smiling face."

"Did you tell him?" Bullock asked, looking to Bird and then back to Jim as he cheerfully teased, "She's got good news."

"I heard." Jim managed another smile, thinking Bullock was talking about her getting a job with the company.

"No, not that." Bird practically read his mind, "He doesn't even know about that."

"About what?" Bullock asked, but didn't get an answer when Bird held up a hand to silence him and told Jim, "There is a very real possibility that the DA's office is going to reopen the case."

"On what grounds?" Jim questioned.

"On the grounds that you're innocent." She retorted.

"She's practically been staking out Dent's office." Bullock explained, "But it's paid off. So now it's up to you, Jim. Gotta keep your nose clean. Last thing you need is to end up doing more time cause you lost your temper, alright?"

"Ah, shouldn't be too hard." Jim's voice dripped with sarcasm, "Everyone seems real nice around here."

"I'm still looking for Penguin. See what he's got to say. He's laying low someplace, but don't worry. I'll find him." Bullock promised.

"I told you he's got nothing to do with this." Bird's tone slipped right into anger.

Her best friend was off trying to live his life away from the city and away from the bloodstained past he'd walked away from.

The last thing she wanted was GCPD showing up at his father's estate and stirring up trouble, especially not after Grace's reaction to learning about his crimes.

"She knows where he is." Bullock sighed, nodding over to where Bird was sitting, "Just won't tell me. Doesn't matter though, I'll find him."

"No, you won't." She snapped, "I told you to back off and leave him alone."

Turning to face his partner, Bullock questioned, "You hear how she talks to me?"

Jim let out a small laugh.

The first time he'd laughed in he couldn't remember when.

They were probably the most unusual pair to be working together on anything at all, but when it came down to it, Jim couldn't think of anyone else he'd rather have in his corner.

"Hey, how's Lee?" He questioned, looking between them, "She was writing to me a lot, but then a few weeks ago the letters stopped. You know why?"

"You made it pretty clear where you stood, Jim." Bird reminded him, "You told her to move on with her life."

"I know and that's still what I want." Jim swore, "But the letters just stopped all at once. Kinda hard not to worry."

When he saw the expressions on their faces he asked, "What happened?"

Bird and Bullock exchanged looks, which turned into a staring competition until Bird motioned with her head towards Jim. Making clear that Harvey needed to be the one to deliver the news.

"I didn't want to be the one to tell you this-"

"Tell me what?"

"Lee lost the baby, Jim." Bullock answered, "I'm so sorry."

Bird nodded, "Jim, I'm-"

"How is she?" He asked, blinking rapidly but it did little to stop the tears that were welling up in his eyes.

"I think she's fine. She moved down south." Bullock tried to answer, but he didn't have many details to offer up, "No one's really heard from her since."

Bird's face twisted up as she watched the tears start to make their way down his ever-reddening cheeks.

"I'm sorry." Bird repeated, her voice soft and growing hoarse.

With a nod, Jim started to get to his feet, "Congratulations on the new job."

"Jim?" Bullock rose to his feet as well, but Jim wouldn't look at him as he started back for the prison and called over his shoulder, "It was good to see you, Harv."

"Jim, I'm gonna get you out of here, I promise." His chest felt tight as he watched him leave, knowing that the weight of something like this would make it harder for him to survive on the inside, "Jim! Don't let this break you. Don't give up hope. Jim!"

Once he was gone, Bullock dropped back onto the bench and angrily slapped the top of the table.

"We have to get him out of here." He said, shaking his hand out to the side where his skin was stinging from the impact.

"I know." Bird somehow managed to say.

"My buddy, says they got him in F Wing, you know what they call that place? World's End, cause it's the end of the line. He ain't gonna last much longer in there. We have to get him out, we have to-" Bullock carried on until Bird cut him off as she said, "Have dinner with me."

With a snort, he joked, "No offense, but you're not really my type."

"Oh, ha-ha." She rolled her eyes before leaning in and saying, "We're not exactly in the right place to be hatching this type of plan."

He followed her line of sight up to the roof where the guards were and nodded in understanding.

"Dinner?" Bird repeated, "Delmonico's, meet me at seven."

"That Italian steakhouse uptown?" He realized as he got stood back up to follow her out when she started to walk away, "Okay, crazy eyes, but you're buying."

"Fair enough." Bird agreed, "See you at seven. Reservation under Falcone."

"Wait, what?" Bullock asked as he came to a stop, but the only answer he got was the door to the building shutting in his face behind her.

•••

"Sorry." Bird apologized as she reached the table where Carmine Falcone was sitting in the upscale restaurant, "The only thing my driver actually got me to on time today was a meeting this morning."

"I heard it went well." Falcone said as he stood up to greet her with a smile, "Congratulations."

After exchanging a greeting of alternating cheek kisses, they took their seats and Bird admitted, "There's something I need to speak to you about."

"Oh?" He asked, taking a drink from his glass, "Something wrong?"

With an appreciative smile at their waiter when he brought her a stem glass with ice water, she watched as another staff member added a third chair to their table.

"Is someone joining us?" He guessed, watching as she squeezed some of the juice from the lemon garnish on her glass into her water.

"I hope you don't mind. I invited a friend." Looking down to her new watch, Bird sighed, "Who was supposed to have already been here."

"Good evening, Bullock." Falcone greeted as he spotted the detective nearing their table, seeming rather out of place in the choice of dining establishment.

"Evening." He replied, as he reached out to shake his hand before taking a seat with them.

"I see your choice in friends has changed." Falcone commented with a knowing look as he watched his daughter.

He already knew this dinner intrusion had to be related to Jim Gordon's extended lockup in Blackgate.

In truth, he'd been waiting for Bird to ask him for help, but up until now she hadn't so much as spoke more than a couple words about the disgraced detective.

"You know, Harvey... it's very rude to wear a hat indoors." Falcone stated looking over to him.

With a nervous expression on his face and his eyes slightly bulged, he quickly pulled his hat off and laid it to the side.

Retired from organized crime or not, Falcone's towering stature and domineering presence was enough to make anyone feel on edge.

"How you been?" Bullock questioned as he adjusted in his seat, "How's retirement treating you?"

"Very well." He politely replied.

When Bullock opened his mouth again, Falcone nodded to the menu laying on the table and said, "Let's order dinner first, yes? Then we'll discuss business."

Once they'd all placed their orders for food, Falcone looked between them and said, "I believe you're here to talk about James Gordon?"

"Look." Bullock began as he poured some of the beer from the bottle he'd been brought into a glass, "Jim didn't kill Pinkney. We all know it. The thing is, who'd set him up any way? I don't know ho much longer he can stay alive in that place."

"They've taken him out of protective custody." Bird added, "They moved to F Wing."

"World's End." Falcone was familiar with the ins and outs of Blackgate and he knew very well that F Wing lived up to it's nickname.

"The only way outa that place is gonna be in a body bag." Bullock sighed, "You've got every right telling me to go to hell, but you're probably Jim's last hope."

Pulling in a deep breath, Falcone looked over to where Bird had gone mute and asked, "Still no word from Cobblepot? I'm surprised you didn't go to your friend first."

Bird's head lowered as she bit down on the side of her tongue.

Her trespasses against Falcone might have all been forgiven, but they certainly weren't forgotten and given the chance, he made sure she didn't forget them either.

"Even if Oswald was still running the show, we both know he wouldn't have the kind of juice it would take to pull something like this off." Bird finally said, her eyes still glued down to the polished table surface.

Besides, even if he did, Bird wouldn't ask him to.

As it was, Oswald had sat in Arkham for weeks on end, enduring god knows that kind of so called therapy -paying for a crime that Jim had actually done.

In her mind Oswald didn't owe Jim anything.

Even knowing their family ties and having grown closer as of late, all it took was one stern conversation or a sideways glance from her biological father to make her feel like she was back to working under him.

Back when she used to be afraid of the repercussions for stepping a toe out of line.

Pulling in a deep breath, she raised her head to look at him as she openly admitted, "Jim's a friend. His life holds value to me and if I can't get him out of Blackgate, then I'm going to lose him. He's not safe in there."

"My dear." Falcone watched her closely, "All you have to is ask."

Bird glanced across the table to where Bullock was sitting, before turning back to Falcone, "I need your help. Please."

•••

"If you've been staying in contact with Falcone why the hell didn't you get his help sooner?" Bullock questioned staying just steps behind Bird as she headed for where he driver was parked waiting on her, "We could have done had Jim outa there!"

"Because I was hoping I could find another way." Bird answered, her shoulders dropped in defeat as she muttered, "Any other way, really."

"Why?" He asked, speeding up to talk to her, "You're telling me you had a way to get Jim out of there before they ever took him out of protective custody and all you did was sit with it. You left him in there where he could have been killed-"

"No, this isn't on me." She defended whirling around to face him, "I didn't frame him. None of this is my fault."

"I just don't get it." He argued with her, "You say he's a friend and then you stop short of pulling out all the stops."

"You don't get it, Harvey." She sighed, reaching up and rubbing her forehead. "My days of having to ask for favors from the Don are supposed to over. So far in the rearview that I can't even see it anymore."

"Sure." His eyebrows raised, "Only he's not just a Don, he's your father."

"He is Carmine Falcone." Bird quickly shut that line of conversation down. "Biological father or not, retired or not -he's still the biggest mafia boss that Gotham has ever known. The same one who forced me into working with Victor Zsasz to harden me up. Backhanded me across the face for working against him and had the man that I loved beaten so badly he was hospitalized to keep me in line."

"So yeah." She scoffed, "We might share DNA and I've forgiven him for a lot. It's not like I've got a surplus of family, so yeah, we have the occasional dinner and catch up. But I will never forget the kind of man he is and he is someone that I don't care to be in debt of."

With furrowed brows he slowly nodded when he could see the pain on her face.

At first it hadn't made sense why she wouldn't have played this card to help Jim, but having it all laid out on the table had a way of changing an outsiders prospective.

"Okay, you're right." He succeeded, "I'm not lookin' to be in anyone's debt either-"

"I am so sick of you acting like I've not been pulling my weight here. I have put in just as much, if not more than you, of time and energy to try and help Jim." Her voice raised and all the emotion and anger she'd been holding in that had nothing to do with Bullock started to trickle over, "How many times have I put my neck on the line for him, huh? You too for that matter!"

Holding his hands up as a sign of surrender, his head cocked to the side as he questioned, "You alright there?"

"I'm fine." Bird dismissed as if she hadn't just had a mini-meltdown.

"You don't really sound fine." He retorted, but the tone in his voice showed he wasn't looking for a fight.

Turning away from him, she briskly walked over to where her driver was already waiting with the backdoor open for her. Leaving a confused Detective Bullock behind on the sidewalk.

Letting out a sigh, he rubbed a hand over his head before pulling his hat back on and blowing out a heavy breath with his breathing showing in the cold night air.

Bird had a point, she had devoted a lot of her time to trying to help Jim and even before his current predicament, she'd helped them more times than he could count.

Pushing the thoughts and any bit of guilt that her words might have stirred, Bullock went over to where he'd parked his car and hoped that everything would go as planned the next night.

They couldn't afford for it not too.

••• the next night •••

"You seem tense, my dear." Falcone observed as he looked over to where Bird was sitting was sitting in the car next to him.

"Maybe this was too soon." Bird voiced her worries, "We didn't have time to let Jim in on the plan. If he doesn't understand what's going on or doesn't play along then-"

"There wasn't time." He reminded her, "Trying to hold off another week would have left too big an opportunity for someone else to get to him first."

Pausing for a moment he assured her, "You made the right call."

"Yeah, but I should be there." She said so quietly he could barely hear her when she turned her head to look across the river at Gotham City.

"Too risky." Falcone dismissed, "Someone could have seen you outside of Blackgate, and if that were to happen then we'd have an even larger mess to try and clean up."

Bird nodded in agreement, but she didn't say anything.

She was used to being the one taking action, not the one giving orders and sitting back waiting for someone else to do her bidding.

Despite Falcone assuring her that his men on the inside would make sure the plan went off without a hitch, Bird didn't possess the same trust in people that her biological father did.

The plan was simple.

Simpler was better, she'd been assured.

It was movie night at the prison which mean everyone would be in the same room together, easy for utter chaos to break out.

Enough chaos to shield the fact that one of the other prisoners was going to slip a bag of fake blood under Jim's shirt and then make a scene about stabbing him to death with a retractible blade.

Just Bullock had said from the beginning; the only way Jim was going to get out of Blackgate would be in a body bag.

Once he was safely outside of the prison, Bullock would be waiting with an ambulance to whisk him away out of the city.

"I spoke to my men." He said stirring her from her thoughts, "If he chooses, they'll be able to get him out of the country tonight."

"Thank you." She cleared her throat, "I don't think he'll need it. Jim's not going to run."

Looking over at her, he was silent for a few passing moments before pointing out, "Staying in Gotham is only going to keep him at risk."

"I know him." Bird confidently said, "And he knows that if he starts running, it's never going to end. No, he's going to insist on staying to clear his name."

"And then what?" Falcone questioned, keeping a close eye on her even though she was refusing to turn his direction, "Get his job back? Rush back to the GCPD?"

Silently, she nodded.

As she said, she knew him.

She understood that first and foremost he identified as a cop and that wasn't ever going to change.

"Ah." Falcone spoke just before he exhaled and turned to look out of the car window beside him.

Clearly having came to a realization of something that he wasn't planning on sharing.

"Ah?" Bird echoed, "Ah, what?"

"Nothing I say is going to matter." He simply replied, but when Bird's face scrunched up in confusion, he elaborated, "Logic seldom triumphs in matters of the heart."

He'd known Bird had grown close to the detective, but it wasn't until now that he'd realized exactly how deep her feelings for him ran.

"It's not-" Bird shook her head, face contorting again, "It's complicated."

"Always is."

Holding the breath she'd pulled in deep in her lungs, Bird turned her head and stared forward.

The sun would be coming up in a little over an hour and if everything went as planned, that was just about the time they should be meeting up with Bullock and Jim.

•••

"We made it, buddy." Jim breathed in a breath of cold air from the open windows and rested his hand on Peter Davies' shoulder, or Puck as he preferred to be called.

The young man who'd insisted on staying by Jim's side in Blackgate, and who'd recently taken a severe beating from inmates for doing so.

Puck had called Jim a hero from the beginning. Said he'd saved his sister from the child snatchers the year before and made it very clear, despite Jim's protests, that he greatly admired the detective.

In one of their chats while they were both getting bandaged up in the infirmary, Puck had told him of how his grandfather lived and died in prison, and that all he wanted was to not end up like him.

Knowing that once he was gone, Puck would continue to pay for aligning himself with Jim, he knew he couldn't leave him behind.

Which led to his going back inside Blackgate one last time.

With the best attempt at a smile he could manage with the large amount of swelling on his disfigured face, Puck nodded and squinted with his blurry eyes out of the ambulance window out across the water to the city they'd left behind.

As Bullock slowed the ambulance to a stop on the old iron bridge, Jim instructed to Puck, "Wait here."

Once they were out of the ambulance, Jim came to a stop when he saw the driver of one of the sleek back cars getting out to open the rear door.

"Don Falcone had all the contacts inside of Blackgate." Bullock explained as they watched the retired crime boss get out of the car.

"You went to Falcone?" Jim couldn't hide the surprise on his face.

"It's a little more complicated than that." Bullock spoke in quiet voice as they met up with Falcone on the bridge.

"Thank you." Jim sincerely said as he extended his hand to Falcone, "I'm not sure I can ever repay you."

"That won't be necessary." Falcone dismissed, pulling in a deep breath of the brisk early morning air, "My daughter, is as intelligent as she is beautiful, and believes in her heart of hearts that your life is worth saving."

Jim's brows furrowed before he looked past where Falcone was standing to see Bird slowly getting out of the car, as if she was unsure of what to do now and he realized she was the one who set the entire plan in motion.

"She possesses many old world traits for someone so young." He continued, as he kept a firm grip on Jim's hand, "Her loyalty, for example, is unmatched. Much as I expect yours would be for her, now."

He might have been retired from the crime game for over a year now, but he'd never been in the business of using time and resources to save someone who wouldn't return the favor or even worse; end up stabbed in the back.

Slowly, Jim nodded his head and looked down when the older man finally let go of his hand.

"Besides." Falcone stated, as he stepped sideways to watch as Bird walked over to join them, "I'm always happy to help an old friend."

"There she is!" Bullock called out, "The woman of the hour."

He waited to see her reaction, gauge if she was still angry with him or if they were past the words exchanged from the night before.

During the increased time they spend together while Jim was incarcerated, they'd had more than a few disagreements that usually ended with her storming out and then back in a few days as if nothing had ever gone sour.

"Took you long enough." Bird replied, her eyes narrowed slightly at him in wonder of what exactly had taken so long. They were supposed to meet up over an hour earlier.

"Yeah, we hit a few snags, but nothing that couldn't be worked out." He vaguely answered as he looked back behind him the ambulance

"I'm just glad you're safe." She confided, turning to face Jim as she spoke.

"Thanks to you, I hear." He replied with a small smile, "Thank you."

Stepping forward she wrapped her arms around him.

He was out of Blackgate and whatever path he took from here was sure to put him right back on the path of danger, but for the moment, as fleeting as it may be, he was safe.

"It's good to see you." She softly said, still holding onto him.

"You have no idea." He echoed the sentiment with her folded in his arms.

He could smell the left over scent of wood burning fire that clung to her hair and coat from where she'd spent the better part of the evening just in front of the grand fire place in her new townhouse.

It was an embrace he didn't even know he needed so badly until it was happening.

For weeks on end the only physical contact he'd had was violent.

Either from guards roughly pushing him into his cell, dragging him along when they didn't think he was moving fast enough -to the brutality of the beatings other inmates were always at the ready to inflict.

He'd all but forgotten what kindness felt like; how soft and warm human touch could be.

"So, what now?" Bullock asked, eyeing the pair as they finally separated.

"You're asking me?" Jim scoffed, "A few hours ago I was a dead man."

"I have people who can get you out of the country." Falcone explained, "Or we can try and get you a safe place in Gotham. It's your choice."

Everyone watched him in silence as he walked over to the edge of the bridge and looked across to the smog covered skyline of Gotham City.

"What'll it be?" Falcone was the first to speak.

"I have to clear my name." Jim stated, still staring across the water as he continued, "To do that, I have to go back to Gotham."

Eyeing where Bird was standing at his side, knowing she was exactly right about what choice Jim would make, Falcone reasoned, "Then you have your answer."

"It's not going to be easy." Bird reminded him.

"A part of me wants to run." He admitted turning back to face them, his eyes landed on her, "Out here, breathing this fresh air... I can't go back inside."

"If you run, you'll have to keep running." Falcone said the same thing Bird had said just earlier that morning in the car, "Some people can live with that."

Bird nodded, but she held her tongue.

She wanted him to stay, but the decision had to be fully his and his alone.

"You're a fighter, Jim. You got knocked down." Bullock chimed in, apparently not above trying to convince his partner and friend to stay in the city, "You stay down or you get back up?"

Pulling in another deep breath of the crisp air, he did his best to smile as he called out, "What do you think, kid?"

Everyone looked to where Puck was slumped over in the ambulance, his head rested against the door where the window was rolled down, filling the cab of the vehicle with fresh air.

"Puck?" Jim yelled as he ran over to check on him.

"No. No!" He lifted the younger man's head and started to tap on his cheeks, "No, we made it. Come on. Come on, Puck! Come on, don't give up!"

Bird looked to Bullock and then back over to where Jim's tone was growing more frantic by the second.

Walking over to him, she got a good look at the blood stained and bruised face of the kid, Jim, was calling Puck.

She didn't know him; but she'd seen enough death in her time to know that no amount of hitting his face or yelling at him would get him to stir.

"Jim." Bird placed her hand on his arm, "He's gone."

With his teeth gritted in rage at the loss of another innocent life, Jim finally let go of Puck and walked back over to the edge of the bridge, turning his back on everyone there with him.

He'd never really intended to run.

But the loss of Puck's life cemented exactly why he needed to stay.

Gotham couldn't continue on the path the city was going.

Law and crime were all tangled up in one another, to the point where even the most honest of the police force saw a city painted in shades of gray.

There was no right and wrong -there was only the lesser of two evils.

It had to stop and the only way he could make a difference would be to stay in the city, clear his name and get his job and badge back.

•••