Chapter Text
-35 minutes-
Things typically weren’t good when Black Bat landed on your roof.
At least, that was Jim Gordon's opinion.
So imagine his surprise when both Black Bat and Robin landed on the department’s rooftop (Black Bat arriving approximately fifteen minutes before her brother.) (Yes, he had figured out they were siblings, he had known the Bats for 20 goddamn years, he would have seen it even if was blind.)
They were both silent, Robin’s head aimed to look up at the older, and Black Bat giving him a silent stare. It was a surprisingly quiet night in Gotham, it was extra windy, and the sky was still clouded over (it always was), but the only crimes being committed were minimal muggings. Those of which had been taken down with a combination of Oracle’s calculated efficiency and Batman’s tactical timing. The Bat had even said that the others had taken a night off, which he could tell made the Dark Knight suspicious.
“Red Robin doesn’t do nights off” he had heard the man grumble, before his voice had reduced to grunts for the rest of the night.
So yes, things typically weren’t good when Black Bat landed on your roof, especially not when with Robin, and especially when they were both staring at you (in the time it took for Jim to finish his mental monologue, Robin had turned his “murder-bird” gaze to him.) (Red Hood’s quote, not Jim’s.)
“So,” said Jim, sighing and scratching his beard slightly, he would need a cigarette later, “Why are you both here on what is apparently your night off?”
Black Bat shrugged, cape swishing slightly, which was… normal, for her. “Important” she growled. (God, Jim would never get used to that voice, it was somehow deeper than Batman’s. How do you do that?)
Robin seemed to see this as his opportunity to take over. “Some important information has come to light as of recently. Red Robin was withholding it temporarily as to “wait for the right moment” to release it” the dark skinned boy said, “Nightwing and Red Hood went with him to retrieve the relevant files and make sure they were not lost in transport, due to the unusually high amounts of wind.”
Jim raised his eyebrow slightly. Robin had said a lot that he would need to unpack later (so big of words, so small of body), but what was the most unusual? He hadn’t taken the opportunity to insult Red Robin.
“Maybe they’re finally getting along,” thought Jim, “Took them long enough.”
Speaking of long enough, Nightwing swung onto the rooftop, landing beside Robin, waving at both him and Black Bat. “Sorry it took us so long,” he said, giving a small but guilty smile, “There was an extra strong gust of wind and Red nearly dropped the files.”
“Which Red?” asked Jim, curious to whether the man was referring to Red Hood or Red Robin.
“Which do you think?” came a mechanical voice and Jesus Christ, his heart, Jim would never stop wondering how the 200-something seeming pound man moved so silently.
“Hood,” Jim said shortly, trying to calm his racing heart.
“Gordon” Hood responded, giving him a short nod. The commissioner was one of the few policemen in the city who had earned the crime lord’s respect and thus orders from his men not to shoot him on sight. And, considering the police corruption that was still in the city no matter how much Jim had tried to remove it, it was… kind of fair.
(Seriously, it was like trying to remove a tumor with essential oils and an all fruit diet, impossible, pointless, and deadly.)
“Gee, thanks Hood, that mean so much to me” Jim could physically feel the sarcasm permeating the air at Red Robin’s drawl, and Jim would have commented on it if he hadn’t seen the boy make the Riddler cry and start begging to be taken back to Arkham last week just because he forgot to drink his coffee. He couldn’t risk it.
“Things are never good when you’re all here” said Jim, letting out a breath. He was going to have the largest headache later. “So either you're playing a prank, or the government’s finally decided to give up on Gotham… again.”
“Neither, actually” Red Robin chirped, which was… still not a good sign. If that boy was anything but blank, it was a bad sign.
Nightwing must have recognized the look on Jim's face, because he shook his head. “It’s actually a good thing” he said, “I promise.”
“Alright then” said Jim, “lay it on me? Kidnapping? Killer Crock escaped? Murder?”
“Not quite murder” said Red Robin, “more like- death penalty.”
And with those words Red Robin pulled out a case file bigger than a cement block and just about as heavy as one from his cape and dropped it into Jim’s hands.
“Who’s?” he asked incredulously, begging to flip through the honestly massive case file, “what the actual fuck?”
“That” said Red Robin, “Is all the evidence that the Joker isn’t actually insane, and therefore shouldn’t get the insanity plea, and should therefore get the death sentence.”
Jim blinked. Once. Then again. And stared. “Excuse me?” he said, mouth agape, because, “what the ACTUAL FUCK?” was all he could think.
“Could you have been any less straightforward, Baby Bird?” The commissioner heard Nightwing say, “He looks like you hit him in the head with a brick.”
“He’ll survive,” he heard Red Robin respond, “I did.”
“When did you get hit in the head with a brick?” asked Hood.
“When I met Spoiler” the younger Red responded once more, “It was her weapon of choice.”
It took a bit, but Jim soon broke out of his daze. “Son,” said Jim, closing the case file and sighing, “You do realize you could’ve handed me half a sticky note with the words “The Joker’s not insane” and I would've just taken your word for it?”
Red Robin scoffed, but a slight red seemed to overtake his face. “I just… need to be sure” he said, looking away.
“Still” said Jim, “I’ll have the Detectives I trust look this over. If you’re right, which, knowing you, you are, the Joker‘ll be dead by Tuesday.”
“But it’s Monday?” asked Nightwing, cocking his head.
“Exactly.”
“Thank you” came Black Bat’s growl.
“Your welco-”
They were already gone. All except Nightwing, that was. “Sorry about them, they take after B” he said, and then he was gone too.
“Damn Bats” muttered Jim, shaking head, but a small smile formed on his face.
There would be justice for his daughter, for all of the Joker’s victims and their families.
The Clown Prince of Crime would be no more.