Bruce Wayne/Batman, Dick Grayson/Nightwing, Harvey Dent/Two-Face, Kathy Kane/Batwoman, and all other important characters belong to DC Comics/Time Warner.
I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.

Rated PG-13 : language; violence, some mature concepts.

Reviews are greatly appreciated.

Duplicity

Double Vision

"Why won't you look, Harvey?"

It had started with a whisper. Just the hint of a voice as Harvey paced through the hallways and rooms of his house, past curtained windows and covered mirrors. At first he passed it off as an echo, a thought he hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud, a waking dream. But deep down he knew it wasn't.

"Everyone turned away, Harvey. But you can't, can you?"

"You're not real. I'm not listening."

"I'm as real as you. As real as that coin you're holding..."

The coin. Harvey looked down at it, gleaming silver in his uninjured right hand. The coin. Why had he taken it? He couldn't help it, it had just happened... Yesterday, his first day back in the real world. His first attempt to recover his old life...

At first he had tried to pretend it was just an ordinary day, like before. He had gotten up in the morning, showered, shaved - a strange process without a mirror - gotten dressed, combed his hair, straightened his tie. The same routine he had gone through thousands of times, except for the extra added attraction of making sure the bandage over the worst part of the left side of his face was secure. He could almost convince himself nothing had really changed - as long as no one saw him.

It had started as soon as he got out of his car in the courthouse parking lot. A couple passing by had stared, then quickly looked away when he glanced at them. The people on the sidewalk: startled looks, averted eyes. The guard at the entrance. The familiar faces he passed in the hallway. All of them the same. Horror, pity, disgust; the air was thick with it.

"Harvey? How are you?"

"How are you feeling?"

"Nice to have you back..."

"How are you doing?"

Polite words. But he could almost hear the unspoken thoughts, like a soft murmur of whispers trailing behind him.

'How horrible...'

'My God, just look at him...'

'I wonder what's under that bandage...'

'Thank God it wasn't me...'

Harvey had closed his office door - had to be careful not to slam it, had to act normal, of course - and leaned against it, shuddering. Stay calm, just ignore it, concentrate on work, that would distract him. But just as he had been staring uncomprehendingly at a case file, the phone had rung.

"Harvey? Glad to see you're back at work."

"Bruce."

"Yes. How are you feeling?"

"Great."

"Glad you're better... Listen, Jim Gordon's benefit is tomorrow... Will you be there?"

"No."

"Too bad, we'd all like to see you."

"No, you wouldn't."

"That's not true."

"Maybe next time you have a costume party. Maybe next Halloween. I can come as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."

"Harvey, don't do this to yourself..."

"I don't remember doing anything to myself."

He had just stared at the wall after hanging up. Life goes on. But how could his life go on like this? Be like Bruce, pretend everything was okay, that everything would go back to normal? But it wasn't normal.

There had been more stares, more whispers as he left the building a few hours later. Startled looks, quickly hidden, as he entered the central police stationhouse. Something had drawn him here, morbid curiosity maybe. Whatever it was, it led him to the evidence storage rooms.

"The Moroni trial evidence. I want to see it."

"Why? That case is closed."

"Just give it to me."

He had sat with it for a long time. Witness's statements, CSI reports, fingerprints, police interview notes... The tools of his trade, the remnants of a life that was gone now. How could he run for another term as district attorney, looking like this? And he could never be a trial lawyer again. Could never appear in front of a jury. The news cameras would be eager to film him, for a while, but only as a freak, only as an object of pity and horror. His lips twisted into a smile. Maybe he could still question suspects; he'd scare a confession out of them.

It had been a good case. No question that Moroni was guilty. No second thoughts. It would have built his reputation, made him famous. Instead it had destroyed him. Moroni was in jail, but that victory had come at too high a price.

Moroni's lucky coin had caught his eye as he stuffed plastic evidence bags back into their boxes. His double-headed coin. Two faces, just as his face was now split in two, only both of its sides were identical: smooth and perfect. As his face once had been. The most important piece of physical evidence in the trial... he had been holding it in his hand, just staring at it numbly...

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dent, but you've been here all afternoon... my shift's ending... you'll have to leave..."

"All right. I'm going."

They just wanted him gone, of course. He had stood outside on the sidewalk, uncertain. Go back to the office? Run the gauntlet of stares and whispers again? Or go home, back to the empty solitude of his house; let them all think he couldn't take it, and maybe they were right. As he put his hands in his pockets, he had felt it, and pulled it out, silver catching the fading sunlight. The coin. He had taken it without thinking. Now he had to take it back. They'd all think he was crazy, as well as hideous, and maybe they were right about that, too...

A small child passing on the street had stopped, pointed a finger at him, hid behind its mother's skirt, and begun to cry. Harvey had turned his face away and hurried back to his car.


Bruce threw a final look at the mirror, running a practiced eye over himself. The suit looked perfect, just as all his suits did, all the products of a very expensive tailor. His hair was in place, his face held its usual party-going expression: pleasant and perhaps just a trifle bored.

"Allow me, sir." Alfred stepped in front of him and made some minuscule and unnecessary adjustment to his tie. Bruce smiled at the slightly balding crown of his bent head. If it made Alfred happy to fuss over him, so be it. "There," the butler finally said. "That's better."

"Thanks. Any sign of Dick yet?"

"Mr. Grayson is undoubtedly still getting dressed. I assume he's not accustomed to attending this sort of event."

"You assume right. Maybe I shouldn't have invited him."

"Why not? He's a personable enough young man."

Bruce smiled. "Very personable. I just hope he doesn't feel uncomfortable."

"You will have to make sure that he doesn't, won't you?"

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"Mr. Grayson is your guest. You are responsible for him. Make sure he's introduced, that he has someone to talk to. That sort of thing."

And make sure none of the society bluebloods snubbed him, although Alfred would never say such a thing. "I guess you're right," Bruce sighed, and resigned himself to keeping an eye on his young friend. Not that Dick was exactly shy or tongue-tied, or couldn't take care of himself, but he would probably feel out of place.

I've become a mentor. The thought made him smile, even if it made him slightly uneasy. Dick was in fact his protégé, certainly as Nightwing, but it was also true at Wayne Enterprises, where Bruce had persuaded him to take a job which would support him and leave him with enough spare time for training. That hadn't been easy; Dick had a lot of pride, and obviously felt that he was taking charity. That was why he was working so hard, both at his day job and as Nightwing. About time he had a night out, relaxed a little.


Night again. So quiet and lonely in this house. The phone didn't ring. Why would anyone call, after all? Yes, he'd been rude to them all, but still... Harvey walked from kitchen to living room to dining room to bedroom. Not the study, with its scarred statue of himself standing proud and barren in the moonlight. The bedroom... He opened the closet and recoiled at the flash of a reflection in the mirror he had forgotten was inside the door.

"Afraid, Harvey?"

"No. Not afraid."

"Then why don't you look?"

"That's not me. It can't be. Why should I look?"

His suits, lined up inside, the suits of a man who had been going places. Who had known people, important people. The suits of a successful man.

"There's a party tonight, Harvey. Why aren't you going?"

"I can't. Not like this."

"They're all getting ready. Getting dressed. Bruce, Kathy. They've forgotten about you, Harvey."

"No! They just - they just know I want to be left alone."

"What about Gilda, Harvey? She'll be there too... She's probably putting on one of her prettiest dresses - maybe the little black one, the one you like - she's getting made up, putting on jewelry - she's ready to move on, Harvey, and meet someone new."

"Gilda loves me..."

"Not anymore, Harvey. How could she love a creature like you?"

"No! Who are you? Where are you? Why are you doing this to me?"

"Don't you know? I'm you, Harvey. Your other side, your ugly side. Did you know the word sinister means left, Harvey? The left side. The sinister side."

"You're not me! Never!"

"You can't deny it, Harvey. You have no way to escape me."

"No! No!" He ran, from bedroom to living room to kitchen to bathroom. But the mocking echo of laughter followed...


"How do I look?"

Bruce smiled. It was the fifth time Dick had asked since he had arrived ten minutes ago. "You look great. Come on, let's get going."

"Just one moment, sir... just to make sure." Alfred moved in, fingers expertly patting Dick's tie into perfect alignment and smoothing out some invisible wrinkle in his jacket. "There. May I say you look unexceptionable."

Dick gave him a face that made Bruce chuckle. "I hope that's good."

"That is quite good, sir. You will undoubtedly impress all the young ladies present."

"Think so?" Dick grinned. "Not that I have the time or the money for girls... but you think so?"

"Yeah, you'll charm the pants off them. Now can we go?" Bruce smiled again as the grin was turned on him. It occurred to him that it was true; Dick looked quite handsome. The suit wasn't of the best quality, of course - Bruce would have been glad to buy him one, but was sure the offer would have been indignantly refused - but it fit well enough, and he had the looks to make it unimportant.

"Speaking of girls, is Kathy going to be there?" Dick asked as the door clicked shut behind them and they started for the garage.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" Bruce shot him a sharp glance.

"She'll be the only other person who I already know." Dick met his eyes with a twinkle in his own. "Don't worry, I know she's all yours."

"Well. I didn't mean it that way. And besides, she's free to see whoever she wants. None of my business anymore."

"Uh huh." Bruce was tempted to argue with the skeptical expression on Dick's face, but decided that might only prove the younger man's point.


"Look at you. You're not a man. You're half a man."

Look... Harvey was in the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. He had taped paper over the mirror, but now... His hand raised. The left hand, the sinister hand, the hand which was no longer his. It ripped the paper away, until he was forced to see. That mirror which had once been his friend, had once shown him his own handsome face... Now it framed a stranger, a hideous half-creature.

His rebellious left hand rose again - to the left side of his face, clutched at the bandaging, and pulled. It peeled off with a tearing sound. He felt pain distantly. But how? That wasn't his face. He had never possessed the knots of misshapen, discolored flesh that were now revealed, that stark and barren moonscape that covered the left side of that alien reflection. No, that wasn't him, never could be. It was impossible.

"Divided between beauty and ugliness... between good and evil..."

Himself... half of himself... half was some horrible monster grafted onto his body... Harvey raised his right hand, clawing at his face, trying to rip away that distorted thing...

"Don't try to get rid of me, Harvey. I'm you... Half man, half monster. Half light, half dark. Half human, half beast."

"No!"

"Face it! Accept it! Embrace it!"

"Nooooo!"


They were quiet for most of the drive to Jim Gordon's house. Dick was nervous, judging by his body language and the fact that he had asked how late they had to stay. For his part, Bruce was glad enough not to make conversation, he had his own thoughts to keep him occupied.

The mention of Kathy had unexpectedly depressed him. Not Kathy herself; he was looking forward to seeing her tonight. Their friendship had taken another turn, or at least he hoped it had. Perhaps it could deepen again into something more. She seemed to have forgiven him for getting involved with Selina, and in fact she had gone out of her way lately to see him... at least it seemed that way, if it wasn't just wishful thinking on his part.

But the thought of Kathy led to the thought of Selina. Back in jail again, despite his efforts to reform her. A stupid plan, he should have listened to Alfred and Dick at the time; of course using her love for him hadn't worked, not when he didn't return the emotion. And yet he had felt something for her, something that had made him ignore all reason and judgment, and take advantage of that one chance to be close to her. And he still felt something, although he had no real certainty of what it was. Not that it mattered; he had tried to visit her in prison, and she had refused to see him.

And of course, Kathy brought another person to mind. The three of them might have gone to the party together tonight, but Kathy had wanted to go with Gilda, to make sure she was all right, and to make sure she didn't change her mind and stay home. Gilda had been miserable since her one disastrous attempt to see Harvey, it had been clear in her voice the couple of times Bruce had called her, and Kathy thought it would do her good to get out and see some of her friends.

And Harvey himself. All alone in that house. He answered the phone; he had gone to work; he must be recovering, just handling the stress in his own way. But he had changed, and not just on the outside. Natural enough under the circumstances; what Dick had said was true; Harvey's whole life had been changed.

For a moment, Bruce felt a chill of uneasiness. What if Harvey never got over it? What if the friend he had known for so many years was simply gone? What if he couldn't adjust, what if he couldn't take it, what if he did something desperate...

Nothing that could be done about it tonight. Bruce smiled reassuringly at Dick as they pulled into the driveway leading to Gordon's house. Tonight he would concentrate on Kathy, and on Dick, and on poor Gilda. Maybe he could find a few minutes to call Harvey... if not tonight, definitely tomorrow...


"Life goes on. All of their lives are going on. Without you."

"It's true. My friends. All of them have their nice normal little lives. Their nice normal faces. People don't stare at them, and whisper about them. Children don't scream at the sight of them."

"They're all having a good time tonight. They're glad you're not there."

"They can't stand to look at me anymore."

"They don't know what it's like..."

"They have no idea..."

"And Gilda..."

"She's there, looking pretty, talking, laughing..."

"Still wearing your ring..."

"She has no right!"

"She's already forgotten..."

"But I'll show her."

"You can show all of them."

"Yes, show all of them. I'll show all of them."

"You're ready, Harvey."

"I'm not ashamed anymore. Let them see me. All of me, both of me! I'll give them something to scream about!"

"Good, Harvey, good!"

"Not Harvey. Not anymore. There's two of me now, and only half was Harvey."

"Who are you now?"

"Who am I?"

He looked down again, at the coin that had at been the start of it all. That bright, shiny silver dollar, its two faces clear and perfect. Two faces, just like his was now, but it wasn't quite right... In a moment he was in the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers until he had a small paring knife gripped in his left hand.

The joy he felt as he jabbed at the coin surprised him, the relief, the glee as ragged scratches crisscrossed one face of the coin, making it as ugly and disfigured as the left side of his own face. He grinned savagely. "Who am I? Who else? Two-Face!"


TBC...