Author's note: This is a Batman:Dark Knight fic. I was apparently the only person who was not as impressed with this as I was with Batman Begins. But there were some great scenes and quotes that made me happy. Overall a good movie. Just could have been better. This fic does contain spoilers.

Disclaimer: Batman isn't mine in any way, shape or form. So don't get cranky with me!

"Heroes"

He's dead. I am cold. Numb. The image keeps replaying in my mind, even as I try to maintain my clueless playboy act. I have to pretend I don't care.

Whenever I close my eyes, I see it again. As he reacts more quickly than any of us, taking the bullet for the mayor. I blink to clear the image.

It only brings more.

His wife crying. The hatred in her eyes when she sees me. His son, looking scared and confused. It's his son that hits me hardest, I think, because he suddenly reminds me so much of myself, sitting alone among a cluster of uncaring police. Comforted only by the one man in that whole damn place who bothered to care.

Now that same man won't even be able to comfort his own son. And, being what I am, I can't even return the favor.

I want to scream. To rage. What good is Batman if I can't save the real heroes? Why are all these people dressing up as me when it's people like him and Dent whom they should be emulating?

I try to remind myself that he wouldn't want this. He'd want me to finish my job. So his death isn't in vain. But maybe that's my own desire. Maybe he'd just want me to drop my mask and live my life, leaving the protection of Gotham to heroes like him. Only there are so few left. And I don't really believe he'd want that anyway.

Why is the death of this one cop eating away at me the way six others before him never did? Because he's the good cop? Because he cared? Because he trusted me? Because I could trust him? Or simply because years ago he smiled at a little boy who'd lost his parents. Because without motives, armor, or money, he forever changed a life. Because in some stupid way he reminded me of my own father, just as his son reminds me of my past. With his death, I feel like I have lost my father again, stupid though that sounds. And again, there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.

As Batman, I have to put the anger aside, so I can catch a maniac. As Wayne, I have to smile as though I can't be bothered with the news of one more dead cop. I can't even openly mourn him. Or give him the honer he desrves. Or thank him for not making me do this alone. Because with one down, only two of us remain. If I give up, it all falls on Dent. But maybe it is better that way.

I am split down the middle. A man with two faces. The freak and the fop. Neither is me.

Again I see his last act of heroism. That damn image won't leave my head.

I wish I could have saved him. Gotham needs more people like him. Like Dent. People with only one face for all to see. People who save lives through kindness. People who aren't like me.

Because that is what makes a true hero.

Author's note 2: Obviously a scene set right after Jim Gordon's "death". I got the impression that Bruce didn't actually know that it was a setup to protect Gordon's family. Or maybe that is just the angst lover in me. But there you have it. I hope you enjoyed it. Please review!

Sirius