Harvey stirred faintly, groaning. He opened his eyes groggily, only to be met with blinding sunlight. He squeezed his eyes shut against the harsh light, willing himself back to sleep. He brought his hands up to rub his eyes, wincing as his left hand made contact with the sensitive, scarred flesh of the left side of his face. His temples were pounding. His mouth felt as dry as sandpaper. The contents of his stomach churned unpleasantly. His mind was fuzzy, his thoughts jumbled and confused.
Harvey, we need to stop drinking so much, Two-Face grumbled in irritation.
"Uh," Harvey groaned in acknowledgment, licking his half-scarred lips roughly in an attempt to restore some moisture to the chapped surface. He yawned loudly, arching his back. The sheets rustled with his movement, and he was quite suddenly aware that he could feel the soft fabric all over his body, meaning-
Swell.
Using his hands to shield his face, he forced his eyes open, blinking as they adjusted to the light. His vision came into focus and he found himself gazing up at a green ceiling. He was not home. Come to think of it, he wasn't sure where he was or how he got there. He cursed silently, running his fingers through his disheveled hair. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed a mop of tangled red hair attached to a sleeping form.
Green ceiling. Red hair. It only took an instant for his mind to put two and two together.
Oh God, Two-Face pleaded. Please let that be Poison Ivy and not-
Edward Nigma raised his head, blinking sleepily. "G'mornin', Harv'," he mumbled, flashing him a lopsided, complacent grin, completely oblivious to the look of pure horror etched across Harvey's half-marred features. "D'you know you talk in your sleep?"
Harvey cursed again, this time not-so-silently.
Harvey, we really need to stop drinking so much.