This episode was particularly strong. It's rare that Two-Face takes over completely, but when it happens he takes full advantage of it and it's rather frightening. If I let him have his way.
This time, I didn't. In the eight months since I officially moved in with Harveys, I've become quite skilled at the old 'Pardon me, does this smell like chloroform to you?' technique. Figuratively speaking, of course; the sedatives I've acquired are much better suited to multiple uses. And I've learned not to let him fall onto anything hard. I didn't have much time before Two-Face would begin to get violent, so Harvey has been laying on the floor of our bedroom for a few hours. During that time I managed to burn myself on the stove, but I'm otherwise unharmed. This time.
I sit beside Harvey while he comes to, making sure that the first thing he sees is me. He needs to know that I'm fine.
He groans, sitting up slowly. I help.
"How long?" He asks groggily. He absolutely hates this, I can already see it in his face-the unburned side.
"Only a couple of hours." Once, Two-Face was in control for an entire week. The scar on my back remembers. "I managed to get him out pretty fast this time." I attempt a smile, but it fails. I hate this, too. He manages to get himself onto his knees without my help. I stand, reaching out to help him up and onto the bed.
His eyes fall to my bandaged forearm. They widen in sudden fear and I curse my own clumsiness.
"No-Did we-" I can't let him finish, I can't bear to hear him say the words.
"No," I murmur, "No, babe, it wasn't you." I take his face in my hands, both sides, smooth and scarred alike. "I'm okay." He clenches his jaw, trying to turn away from me. I don't let him. I won't let him slink away to feel this alone.
"Look at me."
He looks up at me and there are angry tears forming in his beautiful blue eyes.
"I'm alright." Harvey's eyes clench shut. He's biting back his emotions like he's done his entire life, like I did. It's his way of trying to be strong. But he doesn't need to be strong right now.
A sob escapes, just a tiny shuddering sob, but it's enough. The dam breaks, his facade crumbles, and my poor, maimed white knight is weeping openly before me. I lay my hands on his heaving shoulders, the only thing I can do is offer what little physical comfort I can. Even for me, there are no words to ease the pain he feels.
He slips strong, shaking arms around my waist and hugs me close, buries his faces against my stomach. I can only hold him, card my fingers through his mismatched hair and hope that he won't notice the tears that escape my eyes.
Seeing him like this makes something in me ache. But better suffer it with him than abandon him to the anger and despair and helplessness.
"It's not fair," he murmurs, so quiet that I can barely hear it, muffled as it is.
"No, it's not." It's true. It isn't fair at all. Harvey doesn't deserve this. He shouldn't have to live in fear of someone who lives inside him, shouldn't have to feel that helplessness I can see in his eyes when he asks if Two-Face hurt me. He shouldn't have to live with the guilt of someone else's actions.
He shouldn't have to hate himself.
I hold him for what feels like an eternity while he cries himself out, every shudder twisting the knife in my heart.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers. I shush him softly. I know what he's feeling, he doesn't have to complete the thought. The way his arms have tightened around me as he cried like a frightened child said it for him. Please don't leave me.
"I love you," I tell him gently. It's difficult to keep the sadness out of my voice. My fingers trace vague, soothing circles on his back. "I love you, Harvey. And I will never abandon you."
He's almost out of tears, but his misery remains. I hope that there's just a little bit less of it.
"Never."