Dangers in the Dark

Can't be too Careful 7.3

Third Person POV

It felt like Jim was drowning in his worries, in his panics about Holly, about Barbara and about the situation he had gotten himself wrapped up in. He was falling deeper and deeper under the surface and he knew that if he didn't come back up for some air soon, he would drown.

And as though he were being blessed with a second chance, Jim breathed in as much air as his tired lungs could take. His eyes flew open and immediately he clutched onto his torso in pain. The sudden movement had sent a ripple of pain through his body.

Carefully, he laid back down and looked over to his left. Last thing he remembered was being in a car with Montoya and Allen and now... now he was in a room filled with caged rats? What the hell? Why was he in a room filled with rats? Was he being used as a test subject or something? A million thoughts rushed through his head, each one being as crazy as the last, but he was very soon disrupted as a pretty, dark-skinned woman in a lab coat came walking towards him.

"Ah. You're back," the woman commented, as she reached his side. "How do you feel?"

"Terrible," Jim admitted, looking at the woman in confusion. Who was she? "Where am I? Who are you?"

"I'm a friend of Montoya and Allen. My name's Dr. Thawson," the woman told him, as she put on a stethoscope. "I just took two bullets out of you, sewed you up. And now I'm checking to see how you're doing. So who are you? What city are we in? And what day of the week is it?"

As she questioned him, Dr. Thawson shone a bright light in each of his eyes making him squint slightly. Feeling a headache coming on from the sudden brightness, Jim caught Dr. Thawson's wrist and looked over at her.

"I'm James Gordon. We're in Gotham. It's Friday. Why are there rats?" Jim asked.

"It's the dissection lab at the university. I gather you're a fugitive from the mob. 'Can't go to the hospital,' said Crispus. Very exciting, I must say," Dr. Thawson smiled softly, walking over to his other side, pocketing the small light on the way.

"How long have I been out?" Jim asked, trying to push himself up with his aching arms.

"Just a couple hours or so. You're very lucky no vital organs were—" Dr. Thawson began to say until she saw Jim trying to sit up. "Whoa. Lie back down. Okay, you were hurt. Just a week or so in bed—"

No, I have to go," Jim insisted, struggling out of her grasp.

"James, you have lost a lot of blood," Dr. Thawson reminded him. "You have to do as I say and lie back down. If you don't, you could die."

"I have to stand. Can you help me?" Jim requested, but he didn't wait for an answer before trying to get back onto his feet.

"Okay. Okay. Crispus!" Dr. Thawson called through to the other room. Allen walked into the room and looked between the doctor and patient. "He said he's leaving already."

"I have to go. Now," Jim told him.

"Sure," Allen nodded before glancing down at what Jim was wearing. "Some clothes would be good though."

Jim finally noticed that he was currently wearing a white vest and grey pants and that was all. Apparently he had been stripped down to heal his wound. Fantastic.

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As the gloom and darkness of the night enveloped itself around the sirens, shouts and shots of the city, Jim was parked in the middle of the woods with Montoya and Allen. Allen promptly left to go and get a certain someone while Montoya and Jim sat in the car in an awkward silence. After a while of the silence, however, Montoya decided to break it.