A/N- Okay, so this is my first stab at a Batman story...so please forgive anything that offends you cos it's so horribly wrong or whatever crap you guys will give me. Anyways, now that that's outta the way...this is roughly 3 months after The Dark Knight (God, I love that movie) and is based on something I read about how they never said Two Face was dead...just Harvey Dent (which they are totally two different people...and you can't just kill him like that, if he's gonna die then let him die in a cool way. Not by falling off a platform thinger) Okay rants over.
A little about how I'm basing the characters in this…-deep breath- I'm basing Harvey's looks from the TDK, but the background and some habits come from the comics...that's right, I'm twisting them together. Same goes for the Joker; I loved Heath as the clown, but I'm just too attached to the comic version of the Joker. So, the looks for the clown are based on the comic (as well as some of his origin and personality) while there will be things similar to TDK's Joker. Not too much of Batman in this one seeing as how it takes place all in Arkham...so yeah.
ALSO...I'm editing Harley's story and personality just a little...so roll with it cos it will work out in the end.
Another thing, this story is rated M for the language, violence, and dark themes...which are still in the thought process. So bare with me, folks.
And that's really it about this story, which means I'm done now. Which means you should be reading the story and not this. Enjoy!
Tiny Little Fractures
A Beautiful Lie
Blue eyes stared at the concrete floor, a coin running through his fingers as he ignored the passing staff. He found it amusing how all of Gotham thought him dead, except for the staff Arkham and Gordon, and no one had any idea how much he wished the fall had killed him. The doctors found it strange how he refused plastic surgery, but, most put it down to his mental state. A small chuckle left his mouth at that; they had no idea just how damaged he was. A childhood of dark secrets he had managed to hide from and, surprisingly, forget. But now there was no chance of running away from the past.
The sound of the door opening caused his head to snap up, hand curling around his coin. He was a little surprised to see one of the guards walking in, straightjacket in hand, and got to his feet with his back facing the door; all too the familiar with the procedure. As he was led down the corridor, the screams of the other inmates bouncing off the walls, he couldn't help but wonder why he was being taken to the counseling room; he wasn't scheduled for another session until the following week, his doctor having been taken off his case. As far as he knew, he was still without a doctor. Not that he minded, of course.
He was led to a chair, the bare room not much of an improvement from his cell. The guard was next to him, waiting for the doctor to arrive. Realizing a very small detail about the chair, he turned to face the guard and cleared his throat.
"Do you mind turning the chair to the right?" at least he was sane today. For now.
With a grunt, the guard positioned the chair so only his right side faced the other end of the table and he sat down finally. It was only a few more minutes before the door opened again and the sound of heels on the tile reached his ears. Out of the corner of his ere, he saw a young blonde sit in the other chair. It was hard to get a good look from how he was sitting, but he could see the way her hair was pulled back and how professional she was. Or seemed to be, it was so hard to tell with the doctors of Arkham. The only thing he knew for sure was that she was new to the asylum.
The door closed and they were alone. Neither one bothered to break the silence, but he knew the doctor was going over his file once more. If she was anything like his last doctor, the notes about the diagnosis from his childhood would catch her attention and lead to...
"Care to tell me about your childhood, Mr.Dent?" her voice was professional as well, but that didn't much surprise him. His last doctor had been professional sounding as well, but that soon was lost as their sessions went on the last few months.
"Care to tell me your name?" he growled.
"I'm sorry, getting a head of myself." She laughed lightly, embarrassed. "I'm Doctor Harleen Quinzel."
"You new?" he didn't want to talk about his childhood.
"To Arkham? Yes." She replied. "But I've been doing this for a year now. I've helped a lot of people like yourself Mr.Dent, and I promise you that within the year you'll be rehabilitated."
"Don't you feel accomplished?" his tone was sarcastic as he rolled his eyes. "Does helping people give you a satisfied feeling, Doctor?"
He didn't wait for her to answer.
"I used to be like you. 'Gotham's White Knight' is what they called me; I was helping the citizens and doing the right thing. I was the D.A. who actually cared about bringing this city out of this criminal ran hellhole, they all thought I was going to be the one to the streets of crime. No one knew how far their idea of me was," he said, hearing the faint scribble of pen on paper. "I think the more accurate name for me is 'Two Face', none of that heroic shit the press gave me. It always surprised how Gordon's mew saw through me; giving me the nickname for reasons the public has...had no idea about."
"How did you manage to keep the public unaware of these reasons?" she asked, her voice losing some of its professionalism.
"Everyone is so damned corrupted in this city," he spat, his teeth grinding as he remembered what that had led him to. "You'd be surprised what people would 'forget' for a sum of cash."
"And these reasons, would they be the state of your mental health?"
That voice in his head laughed at how she seemed to be avoiding saying his mental conditions, afraid that she might offend him if she spoke the truth.
"You can say it," he sighed, leaning his back for a brief second before bending it to the left until he heard a satisfying Pop! "Why don't you tell me what this mental state includes? I forget sometimes,"
It was a complete lie, but she didn't seem to know that.
"You mean being bipolar and a paranoid schizophrenic?" he was sure Doctor Quinzel meant for it to come out as a statement, but he didn't think she realized it came out as a question.
All he did was nod, his grip tightening on the equally scarred coin from inside the jacket. Brief images flashed in his mind and he felt his blood begin to boil in anger at the memories, certain things he never remembered suddenly appearing.
"Watch out, Big Bad Harv's gonna hurt us." Ralph Walker had laughed, the other two fifth graders laughing with him.
Harvey looked up at them, the feeling of a forming bruise on his jaw making him angrier. For a fifth grader, Harvey was small and that made him the target for Ralph's bullying; along so many others. School had ended a few minutes ago, and Harvey decided to take the back roads home; opening him up for attack by Ralph, or any of the other kids. One of the three, the shortest, sent a foot crashing into Harvey's side. Another kick to the chest sent him on his back.
"C'mon Harvey!" Ralph sneered, pulling him to his feet; only to knock him back down with a punch. "You make this too easy!"
"Stop it." He groaned as one of them pushed down on his chest with his foot, pressing the air out of his lungs.
Once the foot was removed, another onslaught of blows went his way. Despite his efforts, a few yelps of pain escaped him as he curled into a tight ball to protect himself as best as he could. As soon as the attack stopped, the blonde managed to stumble to his feet and glared at the three in front of him.
"I said stop it." He growled.
"Or what?" the short one asked, shoving him back to the deserted road, The three of them laughed as Harvey's head hit the pavement, a grimace on his face.
"You should be used to it by now, Dent." The other one pointed out, a smirk on his face.
"I mean it," the boy warned, fist clenching as they continued to mock him.
'Show 'em who's boss. They want Big Bad Harv? Let 'em have him.' The voice suggested, and Harvey liked that idea.
"You can't do anythi..."
Harvey cut Ralph off as he tackled him to the ground, his hands gripping his neck and squeezing. He found it amazing how the other two stopped when they saw the look in Harvey's eyes.
'Kill him.' The voice whispered.
'But I...' His thoughts argued meekly.
'If you don't, I will!' The voice yelled, and Harvey knew no more.
"Mr.Dent?" Doctor Quinzel's voice broke through the memory.
"Yes?" he asked, his voice a bit harsher.
"Did you hear what I said?" he shook his head. "We're going to be having one session a week for now. So that means..."
"I know what it means." He snapped and his muscles tensed. He smirked as he got to his feet when he heard the door open. "I'm not stupid, Doctor. Unlike some of these people in here..."
'No need to be rude,'
'Shut it, Harvey!'
"I'll see you next week, Mr.Dent." the blonde called as he left the room.
"Hopefully," he muttered.
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
Harvey looked up just as two guards dragged a heavily sedated inmate pass his cell. Realization hit him when he saw the bone white skin of the inmate, and he found himself banging on the shatter proof glass as a yell tore from his throat. He knew the Joker wasn't responsible for Rachel's death (or at least half of him did, and he just chose to believe that because it was easier), but he was the only one Harvey could blame while in Arkham. When the clown was out of his sight, Harvey gave one last slam to the glass before pacing his cell.
That was becoming a habit of his. Whenever he was in his cell and thinking, his feet were automatically taking him from one wall of the cell to the other. And every time this happened, he was arguing with that criminal (Harvey refused to connect the thoughts of Two Face with his own). But this time he was pacing just do something other than brood in his corner, eyes trained on the floor as he held his lucky coin. His gaze looked to the cot in front of him, said coin on his pillow; scarred side up, he noted.
'I don't know why you're so mad at that clown,' that harsh voice said, his left shoulder rising in a shrug. 'He did set us free, Harvey.'
'No, he set you free.' Harvey countered, his pacing picking up speed.
'When are you gonna accept the fact that we're the same person, Harvey?'
'We're not the same. You are everything I stand against,'
'As you keep reminding me,' he came to a halt at that statement for a brief moment before continuing his pacing. 'And look where that got you? We lost the woman we loved, you got half your face burned off, and now we're stuck in this place. Looks like following the rules really did get you far,'
Harvey shook his head and flopped on his cot, snatching the coin from the pillow and staring it. He remembered the hope that had swelled in his chest when he saw it lying on the table beside his hospital table, only to be crushed when he saw the burnt side; there was only one thing that had meant. The pain and anguish he had felt then had been enough to send him into a very fragile state of mind, which the Joker had taken advantage of during that brief visit. A yawn made its way out of his mouth and he sighed, his eyes flickering up from the coin.
"I should go to sleep," he whispered, knowing it was pointless to talk when there was no one there to listen.
'Awwww...but Harvey! I'm not tired at all,'
"Well I am." He figured he was already in Arkham, there was no harm talking to himself when he was alone.
'But I'm not, and you and I both know you aren't gonna go to sleep when I'm not tired.'
His blue eyes went back to his coin, and he sighed as he knew what he had to do. He took in the unscarred side and held it up to eye level.
"I go to sleep," he stated before turning it around. "You get to stay up."
The former lawyer flipped the coin, watching it spin in the air before landing in his open palm. Without looking at it, he quickly slapped it on to the back of his left hand and took a deep breath. Closing his right eye and keeping his left one away from the coin, Harvey removed his hand from the top of his other hand.
'C'mon Harvey. You have to open your eyes to see who wins,'
"I could just pretend I won and go to sleep," he contemplated.
'But you won't. Now open your eyes, damn it!'
He cracked open his eye and looked down at his hand.
'Looks like we get a little more bonding time, Harvey!'
So how was that? I have the second chapter typed up, but I'm not posting til I know that there are people out there who want me to continue this. So, click the little button and leave me a review...please?
Also, if anyone's interested...I'm in need of a beta...so feel free to offer your services and help out a fan.
S.M.Hoffman
