A Killing Thing by melremade

Summary: Loss was nothing new to Lucy Thomas. She had experienced more than her fair share. But she had learned a long time ago that anger would only ruin her.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I do not own The Dark Knight Rises or any of its characters.

"Anger is a killing thing: it kills the man who angers, for each rage leaves him less than he had been before - it takes something from him." – Louis L'amour

Prologue

Gordon faltered in the doorway of the school's front office as he saw Lucy sitting in one of the chairs, her backpack at her feet as she dejectedly read a book. He was about to shatter her world and he could no longer prolong the inevitable, after all, he had already spent at least twenty minutes in his squad car gathering up the courage to walk into the school.

"Can I help you, Officer?" the woman at the front desk asked as she saw him standing there and Lucy looked up from her book before putting it away and sitting up straighter.

"I'm Jim Gordon. I'm here for Lucy Thomas. I'm her father's partner," he answered and the woman seemed to sense his somber mood as her eyes widened slightly.

"Is everything alright?" she asked quietly and Gordon glanced at Lucy who was watching him curiously. He looked back at the woman and gave her the smallest shake of his head. She softly gasped before looking at Lucy, who was clearly growing confused. "What about her mother?"

"She's on a business trip in Chicago," Gordon replied softly. "We've already called her and she's on her way home. She'll be back tonight."

"I'll give you two some privacy," she said as she grabbed her coffee cup and left her desk, leaving the officer and the ten-year-old girl alone. Taking a deep breath for courage, Gordon took the seat next to Lucy. He nervously wrung his hands together and as he looked down at them, he couldn't erase the image of his partner's blood coating them.

"Hi, Jim," Lucy finally said, breaking him from his trance and as he looked to her, and he couldn't help but think that with her dark brown eyes and light blonde hair, she looked like the picture of innocence.

"Hey, Lucy," he managed to reply and he was forced to clear his throat.

"Where's my dad? He's late picking me up. Did he forget about me?" Lucy asked, visibly upset at the thought.

It took all he had to keep himself from coming undone at her question. If there was one thing Michael Thomas would never do, it was forget about his daughter. And as Gordon had held onto the man in his dying moments, his final act was to make sure she would be watched over.

"J-Jim," Michael gasped as he held tightly onto Gordon's free hand, the hand that was not fruitlessly applying pressure to the bullet wound in his abdomen.

"Just hang on, Mike," Gordon urged as he felt the panic racing through his veins. "The ambulance is on the way. You're going to be fine. Just stay with me. I promise I'm going to get you home. I don't care what it takes, I'll get you back home to your beautiful wife and that bright daughter."

Another tear fell down the dying man's cheek at the mention of his family and he shut his eyes tightly as he felt another blinding pain shoot through his body.

"She's so smart, just like her mother," Michael sobbed, his grip growing tighter on Gordon's hand. "Because she doesn't get that from me."

"I won't argue you with you on that," Gordon managed to joke through his tears and Michael laughed before sharply inhaling at the pain it caused.

"Asshole," he muttered. "Literally adding insult to injury."

"I'll make it up to you later," he promised. "I'll sneak you in a beer at the hospital."

"Better not, Annie would kill you," Michael told him and Gordon felt the corner of his lips turn up slightly at the threat. "Jim, you got to promise me something."

"Anything," he replied without a moment of hesitation.

"Watch out for them," Michael whispered as the pain intensified.

"I won't need to. You'll be there to do it yourself," Gordon argued and Michael managed to shake his head.

"I won't. And they'll need you. You're a good man, James Gordon. If I trust anyone with my family, it's you," he said and Gordon felt another tear fall down his face before his head shot up as he heard the faint sound of sirens.

"They're almost here, Michael," Gordon exclaimed as he looked down the street, praying for the ambulance to turn the corner. "Can't you hear them?"

"I won't see Lucy grow up," Michael sobbed fearfully at the realization. "I won't get to see her graduate from high school or college. I won't walk her down the aisle. I won't get to become a grandfather."

Any pain he was feeling from where the bullet had ripped through his stomach was easily outmatched by the thought of never getting to see his daughter grow up. He would never see her again.

"Don't say that," Gordon pleaded as he looked down at the man. "You will see her grow up. You'll get to do all of those things. You'll get to help her with her science fair projects and threaten her first boyfriend and you'll get to cry at her wedding."

"No, I won't," he murmured and Gordon's heart dropped as he felt Michael's grip on his hand begin to loosen. "So you'll have to do it."

"Michael-"

"Promise me, Jim!" he interrupted, although his voice was starting to sound weaker. "Promise me you'll watch over her, that you'll protect her, that you'll be there to do everything I won't be able to."

"Michael-"

"Promise me," Michael repeated and after a moment, Gordon nodded.

"I promise," he said as Michael's eyes closed and he began to grow limp. "I promise, Mike."

The ambulance finally rounded the corner, but by the time they had stopped and the paramedics had jumped out, it was too late. Michael Thomas was dead in his arms.

"Jim?" Lucy asked and he buried his face in his trembling hands. "Where's my dad?"

Gordon hurriedly wiped his tears from his eyes as he sat back up and looked at her. He zipped his jacket up further to hide the blood stains on his shirt from Lucy. It was bad enough that she was about to learn her father's fate, she didn't need to have the image of both of them covered in his blood.

"Lucy, something happened today," he started gently and Lucy's eyes grew wide. "Your dad was shot."

"But he's okay, right? He's at the hospital? The doctors will fix him, right?" she asked, the questions coming out in a flurry. Gordon took a deep breath as he put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Lucy, your dad didn't make it," he whispered and he could see the tears quickly form in her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"No, but Daddy's one of the good guys. The good guys always beat the bad guys," she protested as she shook her head furiously, her blonde hair whipping around as she did so. Gordon didn't know what to say. While that logic held up in stories and fairy tales, it didn't hold up in Gotham.

"Not always, Lucy. Not this time," he choked out and before he knew what was happening, Lucy had wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face in his jacket as she began to sob.

A/N: Well, that's the prologue. I just wanted to give some background before diving into the actual story. I've been mulling this idea over in my head for a while and inspiration finally struck. I'd really love to know what you think or if you're interested. You can expect the first chapter soon!