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. My thanks to Becky, since I couldn't thank you by email - and to everyone else who's been reading.
Batman paused after taking care of the last of Two-Face's men. He looked around quickly over the auditorium crowded with frightened people, most of them now looking at him with expressions ranging from fear to excitement. Then eyes darted past him, expressions changed - he turned to see a man dash out from a door at the back and stop for a moment, staring at him, wild-eyed.
Harvey. Two-Face... Both the handsome and hideous sides of his face distorted in fear and anger; he snarled wordlessly and then ran for the side of the theatre, where Batman could see an exit door barely visible. Two-Face hit it, fumbled with the knob and got it open, racing through as Batman vaulted over rows of seats in pursuit.
There was an alley outside - dirt, a line of trash cans, Two-Face several yards away, just turning the corner into the street. Batman caught sight of him again just as he threw himself into a car and slammed the door. There was just enough time to reach the car as it began to move, almost hitting him as Two-Face reversed to get out of the parking space and then zoomed into the sparse nighttime traffic. And there was enough time to slap a tiny tracking device on the rear fender.
Safe, safe at home. Harvey leaned against the door, still gasping for air, as much from fear as exertion. It was dark in these rooms in the basement of a rundown boarding house in the suburbs. Dark and empty. His men, captured. All of them. And the shots he had heard when he ran from the theatre - the police, of course, shooting, just doing their jobs, and who could blame them if they killed the men he had found to help him.
He blinked, vaguely surprised at the emotion he felt. They weren't much, his boys, his gang, but they had accepted him. They looked him in the face without flinching. At least without showing it. Maybe they were just used to ugly things, the harsher realities of life. Yes, they had accepted him, and obeyed him, and been loyal, as far as the loyalty of such people went. And he had led them into jail, or worse.
What if someone else had gotten hurt? Innocent bystanders were often the first victims; he knew that all too well. Someone whose only crime had been to go out to the movies... Once he had been sworn to protect the rights of those people, the victims.
"The coin decided. It wasn't you."
Harvey looked up, his eyes finding the shadowy mirror hung on the wall in the cramped living room. Quite a step down from his house: tiny rooms, no housekeeper, a mixture of shabby furniture mingled with a few nice things he had been able to get, with stolen money of course. Ugliness and beauty combined, just like himself.
"Yes, my bad side made me do it," he told the image in the mirror. "If only the good side of the coin had come up tonight, none of this would have happened."
"You couldn't help it. It was meant to be."
Harvey stepped closer to the mirror. If he looked only at the right side of his face, it was almost the reflection he remembered, not the creature who still shocked him every time he saw himself.
"Can this be me?" he asked it. "Can this be the man who was once handsome, had a sweetheart, was a respected district attorney? Look at me now... ugly... a criminal!"
"They did this to you. It's not your fault."
"Moroni did this to me. But I'm no better than he is now."
"They destroyed your career. You would never have been re-elected as DA. You would never be able to be a trial lawyer again. No one would be able to look past the outside and see that you're still the same person."
"Maybe... maybe... But now I'll never know, will I? And what about Gilda? I pushed her away..."
"She turned from you in horror."
"It was a shock for her."
"She would never have accepted you this way. She might have stayed, but only out of pity. Better for her this way. Better for both of you."
"What's left for me now?" Harvey stared into the surface, into the stranger's face. There was no answer.
Batman had been careful to keep out of sight as he followed Two-Face down streets that became increasingly dark and empty, from the luxury of downtown Gotham City to the subtle air of neglect and danger in one of its seedier suburbs. He saw men on the sidewalks look up as the Batmobile glided past, then turn their faces away and slink into the shadows. Lucky for them, he was after bigger game tonight.
The car was parked in front of a boarding house. Batman crossed the yard swiftly, moved against the wall, and began to circle the building. Two-Face was unlikely to be using a room in the main house, he wouldn't want the guests seeing him, or the men he had acquired. No, he probably had a separate entrance.
In back, he found a door whose lock slowed him down for less than a minute. Behind it a stairway led down. Silently he descended, and paused as he heard a familiar voice from the other side of a second door. He had the right place, all right... but who was Two-Face talking to? Had one of his men escaped? Had he left someone here? And he couldn't hear another voice answering... The door was unlocked. Slowly, silently, he eased it open.
"What about Gilda?" Two-Face was saying. "I pushed her away..."
Batman hesitated. Again there was no other voice for a few moments, until Harvey spoke again. With mingled surprise and pity, Batman realized he was talking to himself.
"It was a shock for her."
Batman padded through the narrow hallway, pressed himself against the wall, and cautiously looked out into a dimly lit living room, filled with a bizarre collection of shabby junk and expensive furniture and art. Two-Face was there, his back turned, facing a framed mirror mounted on the wall.
"What's left for me now?"
The hopelessness of both the words and the tone stopped Batman's advance. He had intended to catch Two-Face by surprise, and overpower him quickly. But... somehow this man wasn't Two-Face, not at this moment. This was his friend standing there, shoulders slumped, a friend who had been terribly hurt and needed help, not punishment. He waited, but Harvey only sighed and turned away from the mirror.
"Harvey..." he started.
"Who...?" Harvey tensed and moved back, fear, astonishment, and fury washing over his face as Batman stepped out where he could be seen. "What... What are you doing here?"
"I trailed you."
"You're not taking me in! I'll kill you first!" There was a glint of metal as Harvey's hand dipped into his pocket and a gun appeared.
"You could shoot me. But I'm taking the chance you won't."
"I'm not letting you put me in jail!"
"Dent... Harvey... Please, don't be a fool. Give yourself up. Everyone remembers your fine record as a DA. They'll know all of this was only temporary insanity caused by what happened to you. I'll speak for you, so will Commissioner Gordon. You can get treatment, probably no jail time. And you can get plastic surgery, maybe that can help. When you get out, you can start over again, have a normal life, instead of... this." He waved a hand around the bizarre room.
"So you think I'm crazy."
"I think being disfigured has affected your mind. But it doesn't have to be that way. You can get help."
"Help? Locked up in a state institution, with doctors to poke into my mind and nurses to shove pills down my throat? Do you really think that's going to help me?"
"You can make a deal, get yourself committed to a private institution."
"That takes money. Lots of it."
"There are people who would help you, Harvey. It's better than staying like this."
"But I have no choice, do I? None of those doctors or nurses can change the way I look. I'll never have a normal life again."
"That's not true. The way you look doesn't have to matter."
Harvey grinned savagely. "Doesn't matter? Are you naïve, or do you think I'm a fool? Of course it matters. Why do you think I was so successful as a lawyer, and as a DA? It wasn't all brains, or hard work. It was this face!" He pointed to the right side of his face. "People like good-looking people. Admire them. Trust them. Ugly people are evil, mean, untrustworthy..."
"You know that's ridiculous."
"Is it really?" Harvey leaned closer, his features twisting with anger, his hand bringing the gun closer. "It's human nature. I know. I tried, I tried to live my 'normal life' with this face, but people turned away. Gilda couldn't stand to look at me. Children cried for their mothers. And you want to know the best part? Do you?"
"All right. What was it?"
"A part of me likes it. The part that came out when Moroni threw that acid in my face. The part that came free... A part of me likes making people fear me."
Batman frowned at him. "I don't believe that. It's not you talking, it's what all this has done to you."
The grin intensified. "Confess, Batman, you know the feeling. Why do you wear that costume, after all? Why dress like a - a six-foot bat, why wear the mask and lurk in the shadows? You want people to be afraid of you!"
There was just enough truth in it to touch Batman with uneasiness. "Yes, I want people to fear me - but only my enemies. Only criminals. It can be useful to be intimidating."
"Not to mention the feeling of power... Yes, you like it, don't you? We're alike, you and I. We both have two lives, only one of mine is in the past, while you still live both of yours. We both have two faces, only you can take one of yours off. You can pretend to be just an ordinary man. You can be a monster only when you choose. Well, I don't have that luxury."
"You're not a monster, Harvey. Not yet." Batman watched him closely, looking for some sign that his words were having an effect. "You haven't killed anyone; you haven't done anything yet that can't be forgiven. But if you keep on like this... you'll end up in jail or in an institution anyway, or maybe dead."
"It might be better that way."
"No. There's still hope. Still a chance, if you'll let me help you. Will you try?"
"Chance..." Harvey reached into his pocket. His hand came out holding a silver disk. "Remember this?" he asked softly, his fingers rubbing it lovingly.
"Moroni's lucky silver dollar."
"Mine now. Ever wondered why I commit a robbery one night, and give to charity the next? Take loot from one place, and return it to another?"
"Of course I've wondered."
"It's the coin." Harvey turned it to catch a glimmer of light. "The coin decides. If the good side comes up, the good half of me takes over. If the bad side wins... well, you can guess what that means."
Batman eyed him uncertainly. It was all part of Harvey's madness - a madness he was realizing was deeper than he had thought. "What's the point?" he asked.
Harvey smiled. "Simple. I'll toss you for it. Good side up, I'll surrender to you. Bad side up - I'll kill you."
Batman blinked at him. "You'd let a coin toss decide whether you commit murder or not?"
"As good a way as any, isn't it?"
"No! Harvey, this is..."
"Crazy? Why not say it? You don't understand, no one does. I'm of two minds now. It's only a matter of chance which one takes over." He grinned again and held out his hand, curling his fingers around the coin. "If you don't like it, I can just go ahead and shoot you."
"All right. Go on, get it over with."
Batman watched tensely, but the gun in Two-Face's other hand never wavered, and he was too far away to jump him. The odds were fifty-fifty... not a chance he was at all eager to take, but it was already too late... the coin spun upwards in a flash of silver, turning lazily, seeming to take forever to reach the top of its arc and fall again. It came down - Batman was ready to make his move, but Two-Face never took his eyes off him. The coin missed the hand reaching for it, and fell to the floor.
Batman stared. Two-Face took a step back and darted a quick look down. The coin had fallen into a crack in the ancient flooring and stuck there, standing on edge. Batman raised his eyes. "What are you going to do now? Try again?" he asked.
"No. I only toss once against fate."
"Looks like you'll have to make the decision yourself, after all."
Two-Face's expression changed. For a moment Batman thought it was anger, and glanced at the finger on the trigger... but then he realized it was fear, almost panic, tightly controlled. Slowly, Two-Face bent to pick up the coin. "I can't decide," he said finally. "It's up to fate now to choose."
"What do you mean?"
"If the coin won't help me, I'll have to find something that will." He began to edge towards the door.
"Harvey, don't run," Batman said, taking a step after him. "You'll be running for the rest of your life."
"Don't try to stop me."
"Will you at least think about what I said? Consider giving yourself up?"
For just a moment, Batman thought he saw his old friend look back at him from that distorted face, a face filled with uncertainty and doubt. He started forward again, but stopped as Harvey raised the gun, grimacing in sudden rage and fear. For another moment he thought Two-Face would shoot... but he turned and fled, footsteps racing up the stairs. Batman gave him a few seconds before following. He waited at the top of the stairs until he heard a car engine, and then ran for the Batmobile.
Of course he was following. Harvey snarled at the image in his rearview mirror. Couldn't let the Batmobile catch up, couldn't let himself be captured. He knew better than most people the kind of things that happened in jail, especially to former police - or guards - or prosecutors.
But Batman had said he didn't have to go to jail... He could get help... Maybe even get his face fixed...
"Don't believe it, Harvey. You can't trust him. Can't trust anyone."
He raised his eyes to the mirror again. "I don't know... Maybe he was right, maybe they'd go easy on me."
"Don't take the chance. You're better off free."
"Free?" Harvey laughed. "Am I free now? No home, no friends, running from the law? Isn't anything better than this?"
"He's right behind us!"
It was true... Panicked, Harvey instinctively wrenched at the wheel, whipping around a corner so fast the little car teetered on two wheels for a heart-stopping second. Then it dropped back to the road. A glance behind him showed the Batmobile falling behind as it slowed to take the turn.
But that glance cost him; Harvey yelped in startled fear as he turned back and saw a blue-uniformed figure dashing into the street, stopping in front of him and waving him down. A cop, maybe with a gun... He yanked the wheel again, as the policeman dived out of the way, swerved, felt the car bump over the curb, tried to regain control as he bounced over another curb and across a cross street, and cried out, covering his face as a tree seemed to hurtle straight at him. With a crunching, ripping sound he was thrown forward, feeling impact on his head and chest. Then there was abrupt silence.
Had to move... He climbed out, numbly surprised to find himself still alive and apparently uninjured. He looked around. The Batmobile was still coming, slowing as it approached the cop, who was getting back to his feet and drawing his gun. Harvey was half a block away, on the other side of the next street. Staggering slightly, he started away.
"Hey! Stop!"
It was the cop. A glance back showed him aiming his weapon. Harvey began to run.
"Stop or I'll shoot!"
Harvey whirled, his own gun in hand. He fired in the cop's general direction, and heard the sharp report of return gunfire. Something hit him, hard, in the chest. He almost fell, but somehow managed to keep going, dashing between two houses.
"Stop shooting!" Batman grabbed the policeman's wrist, and twisted the pistol out of his hand.
"But that was Two-Face! He's getting away!"
"I don't want him dead!" Batman glared, biting back more angry words. "And neither does Commissioner Gordon. He's sick. He needs help, not a bullet!" He tossed the gun back as he started after Two-Face.
But there was no sign of him. They searched yards, questioned curious and frightened residents, called in reinforcements, all to no avail. Harvey Dent was gone. But Two-Face would be back, Batman was sure of it.
Harvey had learned to live in the dark, in the shadows, how to move without being seen, how to hide the scarred side of his face with a cap pulled low and a collar pulled high. How to disappear. He had slipped into a basement when Batman was near, and then out again and away before the search widened. Now he was safe, for the moment, in the dark, in a decaying abandoned building.
Leaning against the wall, he slipped his hand into his shirt pocket, fingers finding the coin. He stared at it in the dim illumination of a streetlight glowing through a dusty window. The scarred side was even more disfigured now, showing the mark of a hard impact.
"The bullet, Harvey. The policeman's bullet."
"My coin stopped the bullet."
"Yes. It hit the scarred side. The evil side of the coin saved your life."
"Yes..." It was what he needed; the decision was made. Harvey closed his hand tightly around the coin, determined not to feel regret for the door he was closing on his old life. "It saved me - for a life of crime."
TBC...
