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.
It looked like an ordinary house. Small, quiet, out of the way. Harvey raised a hand to his face, touching the scarred left side, feeling the unevenness of the skin, knowing how grotesque it looked. It was his face that had ruined his life. Taken his girl. Thrown him into this miserable cycle of crime and hiding and fear.
If only... It overwhelmed him for a moment, the longing, the wishes. If only he had moved faster, and the acid hadn't hit him. If only Moroni hadn't been able to smuggle it into the courthouse. If only he hadn't tried the case himself, if only he had never heard the name Moroni...
But there was no use in wishing, things were the way they were. Yet here he was, trying to reverse his fate, if only for an hour or two... The man inside that house was expecting him. He was probably waiting. Picking a path through the darkest shadows, Harvey crossed the street and rang the bell.
"Hello?"
Barbara's voice on the phone was casual, with a hint of curiosity and a fainter hint of friendliness, the voice of a woman answering an unexpected call. Dick took a slight breath. "Hi, Babs. It's me."
"Hello, Dick." Had her tone become warmer or cooler?
"Uh... How are you?"
"Fine. Same as ever. You?"
"Fine." There was a brief silence. "I was wondering if you want to get together tonight? Dinner maybe?"
"Well..."
He knew what she was thinking, as clearly as if he could read her mind. In the three weeks since the night he had come over for dinner with her and her father, they had had three more dates. Two had gone well, and he had thought things were really on track, but the last one... Bruce had called twice, only to ask for a report on a case he was involved in, but he had had to make up an excuse both times, leave Barbara sitting alone, and spend long minutes outside on the phone. Things had not been on track when he returned the second time, in fact it was fair to say they were thoroughly derailed.
"Please? I know the last time was bad, but I promise, no more calls."
"No more sneaking off for a private conversation while you're on a date with me?"
"I don't blame you for being mad."
There was a sigh. "I'm not really mad. Just disappointed."
The woman knew how to make a guy feel guilty... "I'm sorry. Won't happen again." But he smiled ruefully at his own words. He was in no position to make a promise like that. In no position to make a relationship work. For the first time, he could understand Bruce's reluctance to get involved... and envied him his friendship with Kathy, one of the very few women who could understand.
"You realize I wouldn't do this for anyone else..." But her voice was bright and teasing. Dick smiled in relief. "Okay, that sounds nice. Where? When?"
"I'll pick you up in an hour, okay?"
"Great! See you then!"
"See you." Dick stared at the phone after hanging up. Nothing better happen tonight. Nothing criminal, anyway.
"How does it look?"
"Don't talk. You'll loosen it."
"Let me see."
"Do you want it to look right or not?"
Harvey subsided with only a wordless grumble, closed his eyes, and submitted as fingers spread more sticky goo over the left side of his face. It felt uncomfortable, layers of thin rubber, or plastic, or whatever it was, glue to hold it in place, makeup to cover the edges, powder, more makeup. Was this what women went through? No, not even close. Actors, maybe. The ones who made horror movies.
He peered up at the man now leaning over him, examining his face with a critical eye. Max Waxman, a former Hollywood makeup artist, now out of a job after being caught dealing drugs. Harvey had helped supply evidence against him at that time. Ironic that Waxman would be helping him now, but - he needed money, Harvey had it, and here they were.
"Okay. You can look."
Harvey opened his eyes. He raised his head enough to see himself in the mirror. He stared blankly for a moment. It felt like looking at an image from the past... It was amazing. What looked like smooth skin covered the left side of his face, smooth, normal skin. When he looked more closely, he could see that it didn't quite look natural - didn't move and crinkle the way real skin did, looked a little thick and stiff and didn't quite have the right tone - didn't exactly match the right side - but it was still amazing.
"Well?"
"It looks - it looks okay." He touched it lightly with his fingertips. "Mr. Waxman, you're a true artist."
"Don't rub the makeup."
"How long will it last?"
"If you don't touch it, if you don't smile too much, or talk too much... a few hours at least without a touchup."
Harvey smiled. But not too much. "That's all I need. Thanks."
Waxman stepped back and let him get up. "You haven't told me why you want this," he said.
"No, I haven't."
"I - I hope you're not going to use my makeup for - for..."
"To commit a crime? Don't worry. All I want is... a date with my girl."
He watched her approach across the garage roof they had chosen as a stakeout location, light from the quarter-moon overhead and the streetlamps below outlining her figure in lines of silver tinted by the subtly golden highlights of her Batwoman costume. The curve of a hip - the long line of a thigh, the graceful roundness of... he blinked and looked away. This wasn't the time to be thinking like that.
"Anything?" she whispered after sliding to a seat beside him, leaning against the short wall enclosing the roof.
"Not yet." He frowned. "We may be wasting our time."
"No. Gilda told me days ago someone's been calling her but not saying anything. I'm sure it's Harvey. He wants to see her again."
"Hmm. Too bad he's doing it from public phones," Batman muttered.
"You've had them traced?"
"I haven't told the police, no. I have my own sources."
"Good. If the cops are here, he could end up getting shot."
"I know."
"We have to talk to him. Get him to turn himself in."
"I know that too." He moved into a kneeling position. "Will you be okay alone?"
"You ask me that every time."
"And every time, I wonder if you're going to call me and wait for help if something happens, instead of charging in after him by yourself."
"I can take care of myself. I'm not an idiot, and I'm not an amateur anymore." Batwoman's voice had sharpened with annoyance.
"Sorry if I tend to worry about you."
"Then don't."
"Can't help it. You're important to me." Almost without conscious thought, he reached gloved fingers to brush her shoulder.
"Well..." Her expression softened into a smile. "You sure know how to ruin a perfectly good argument. But you have partners now, whether you like it or not. Why not trust us a little, both of us?" She sighed. "Go on now, go home. Even you must need to sleep once in a while."
"Okay. Be careful."
"I promise not to make a move without you. Now get out of here."
Flowers. A bottle of wine. A new face - or something close to the old face. He was ready. Harvey took a few deep breaths before walking up to her door. Pulling his courage together, he rang the bell. Briefly considered running. Then forced himself to calmness as the lock clicked and the door opened - and Gilda's face, so well-remembered, looked up at him, eyes glowing.
"Harvey, you came... You're really here..."
He smiled and held out the flowers and the bottle. "These are for you."
She took them without looking at them, and reached out to pull him inside, shutting the door behind them. He stopped her as she reached for the light switch.
"Leave it off. Can't let anyone see I'm here."
"Oh, of course... When you called tonight I couldn't believe it. But here you are."
"You didn't tell anyone, did you?"
"Not when I knew it was you... but it was you all along, wasn't it? All those calls before, those hang-ups..."
"I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. Harvey, your face... it's like before... What happened?"
"I - I found a way to fix it."
"How?"
"It's a long story. I'd rather not talk about it now."
"Let me see-" Her hand was reaching for him, fingers about to touch the left side of his face.
"No!" He lowered his voice as she flinched. "I mean, the skin's still very sensitive. Better not to touch."
"All right," she said tremulously.
"Sorry." Awkwardly, he bent to kiss her, very lightly, not letting their faces get too close, and pulled back before she could respond.
She smiled suddenly. "I'm so happy to see you. To know you're safe. You don't know how worried I've been, and all the things I've seen on the news... Harvey, you have to give yourself up. The police and everyone will understand. It's the only way."
He bit back an angry response. She had no idea of the reality of his situation, none at all - she didn't understand, just like all of them, no one could understand. He forced himself to answer calmly. "Let's not talk about it now. Let's just pretend nothing ever happened. Just for tonight, I want to feel like everything's normal again. Please?"
"If that's what you want." She seemed to really notice the flowers and wine for the first time. "I'll put these in water - and get glasses - I made dinner for us, all your favorites."
"I'm sure I'll love it." He followed slowly as she disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. Gilda's house. How long had it been? Months... they blurred in his mind. No, he wasn't going to think about that part of his life, he had decided. Every minute he was here was making it easier to forget, to forget that he ever had to go back.
For a moment he stopped as his reflection stared back at him dimly from the glass surface of a curio cabinet in the hallway. His own face again, not that creature... "But I'm still here," it whispered.
"I'm not sure. I saw someone, but... it looked like him, but his face looked like before. Not scarred." Batwoman's voice was tense and uncertain.
"It must be him. Stay put; I'm on my way." Bruce frowned, but hesitated only a moment before dialing again. After a ring, a new voice answered, sounding slightly apprehensive.
"What's up?"
"Dick, it's me. Our friend has spotted someone. I think this is our chance."
"Oh, man... This is really not a good time."
Bruce kept his voice steady despite a twinge of annoyance. "All right. If you can't make it, we'll handle it without you."
"No." Dick's tone was resigned. "I said I'd help. I'll be there. Just - have to make a call first."
"Hurry."
Candles. Yes, candles, instead of the harshness - and revealing brightness - of the overhead light. Harvey found them in their usual spot in a cabinet, and carried them to the dining room. The table was already set with Gilda's best, waiting for them. He suppressed a twinge of guilt, set the candlesticks down, found matches, and in a minute or so stood back, admiring the way the light danced over china and silverware, casting the glimmer of reflected flame sparkling through the room, as shadows moved restlessly on the walls in an illusion of life. He stepped a little closer, and leaned forward - and caught his own image in the shiny surface of a serving platter...
"It's all a lie, you know."
"No. This is me again. The real me."
"You've covered me up. But you can't hide the truth forever."
"Just for tonight. That's all I want."
"And when tonight becomes tomorrow? She'll turn from you in horror again."
"Harvey? Would you pour the wine?"
He turned. Gilda was behind him, holding out the bottle. "Of course," he said.
"Look, Babs, I'm really sorry. Believe me, I'd rather be with you."
"I still don't understand, Dick. How can you have to go to work so late like this?"
"Something came up. It would take too long to explain, and I have to get going. I'm really sorry."
"Well, so am I."
She sounded angry. "I really am sorry," he said again. "I'm still kind of new at this job, and Bruce has really gone out of his way to help me - I just can't let him down, you know? I know I'm letting you down instead, but I just have no choice." It wasn't entirely a lie, but close enough to stick in his throat.
"Well - I guess I understand." At least the annoyance was gone from her voice, even if there was still puzzlement and a little hurt. "I guess I'll see you sometime."
"I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Please?"
"Okay."
"Have a good night."
"I'll try. Bye."
He hung up. Lies, deceptions, concealment... No wonder Bruce had never had a decent relationship. Suddenly Dick felt a new understanding of his partner, and of that chill aloofness that so often seemed to surround him. Was this one of the things Bruce had tried to warn him about, one of the things he had tried to protect him from? And was the same thing going to happen to him? No, that wasn't the future he wanted, it would never happen... would it?
No time for this, no time at all. Dick jumped to his feet and headed for the door.
"Do you like it?" Gilda asked.
Harvey could hear the tension in her voice. She was nervous. Part of him - the part that was reasonable and rational, the part he tried to listen to, knew he couldn't expect anything else when she was having dinner with a wanted criminal, a man who had treated her so badly the last times they had met. But the other part...
"She knows. She sees."
He ignored the voice whispering from his distorted reflection in the depths of his wineglass. "Of course I like it. Prime rib, medium rare, baked potatoes, and the salad - you remembered everything I like."
"I made chocolate mousse for dessert."
"Sounds wonderful."
"She's staring. She can see right through you."
"Harvey..."
"Yes?"
"What are you going to do now? You can't leave again. Disappear again."
"I don't know. Didn't we agree not to talk about it tonight?"
"I'm sorry, but we have to talk about it. You can't go on like this."
He felt his eyes narrow, his mouth tighten. "I'll take care of it. Don't worry about it."
"But I am worried."
Why couldn't she just drop it, just do what he said the way she usually did? But no, she always picked the worst times to get stubborn... "I said I don't want to talk about it," he repeated in a deceptively soft voice that brought a look of caution into her face.
"This was a mistake. You know it. She doesn't want you anymore."
"Harvey, I'm your fiancée," she said, the firmness of her tone surprising him. "I have the right to know what you intend to do. And I have every intention of helping you any way I can."
"Don't trust her. She'll sell you out, first chance she gets."
"Look, Gilda, I understand. But I can't give myself up. The decision's already been made."
"What do you mean?"
"The coin. The coin decided. I can't go against it."
"The coin? I don't understand." She stared at him, her eyes suddenly intent, her brows drawing together. "Harvey...?" she said.
But he already could feel it. Something was wrong. He clapped a hand over the left side of his face, feeling the edge of one of the thin sheets covering his skin - it was loose, it had lifted away, was curling up... Frantically he tried to pull it back into place and press it down, but it only loosened more.
"Harvey? Oh, my God..."
"No..." he whimpered, pawing desperately at the makeup and only succeeding in making things worse as patches of fake skin fell from his face; as Gilda's expression went from confusion to fear to horror. As his last attempt at real life disintegrated into nothing, like the shreds of his false face. "It was supposed to last for hours - damn Waxman, he did it wrong!"
Gilda stared at the pieces of artificial skin that had dropped from his face to the table, then lifted her eyes back to his. "It's - it's not real..." she whispered. "Your face, it's still the same..."
"Yes, it's still the same!" Overcome by shame, disappointment, anger, hurt, frustration, fear; he jumped to his feet, yanking away the remnants of plastic and makeup. "I'm still the same monster you couldn't bear to look at! Now - you'll run from me in disgust again!"
"It wasn't like that!" She was standing too, shouting back, again surprising him. "If only you'd come to me with the truth! I - I don't care about your face! I love you! But - you tried to trick me, you didn't trust me - you've changed, Harvey, and not just on the outside!"
"I'm still the same! It's the way others look at me that's different!"
"Not all of us. Give yourself up, Harvey. Please, it's the only way."
"Go to jail? Lose my freedom, lose everything? No way in hell!"
She paused for a moment, staring again, her chest rising in deep breaths, but when she spoke, her voice was steady and crystal clear. "You like it, don't you? You like being a criminal!"
"I like having people fear me..." The whispered echo of his own voice mocked him.
"No! This was all a mistake!" He turned to run, to get out of here and away, back to that dark world that had become safer and more familiar to him than Gilda's was now.
"Harvey!" A hand grabbed at his arm. Gilda got a grip on him and pulled, trying to stop him. When he twisted out of her grasp, she darted in front of him, blocking his way.
Didn't want to hurt her - but he had to get out - Harvey grabbed her shoulders, pushing her to the side as she struggled against him. When the other voice came, in his confusion and agitation he almost thought it was his other side again - but it wasn't, it was low and silky smooth, not the hollow whisper that spoke to him from the creature.
"Let her go, Harvey."
"What? Batman!"
A shadow separated itself from the darkened living room and stood in the doorway. "Yes. Just stay calm. There's nothing you can do, we've got the doors covered. Do yourself a favor and come along quietly, none of us wants to hurt you."
"Gilda..." He turned to face her.
"Harvey, please, do what he says."
"You - you betrayed me? You told him I was coming, all along this was a trap..."
"No! No, I didn't know anything about it. Please Harvey, don't-"
But she was cut off as he pushed her away, hard, sending her stumbling to fall into Batman's arms. It slowed the masked man down just enough. The window, the big window at the end of the dining room, it was open to the breeze and there was only a short drop - he hurtled through it an instant later, and then was pounding over the lawn, hearing shouts behind him. As he threw himself into his car he could see them, all three, the Batman just hitting the ground under the window, Nightwing and Batwoman running from the front and back doors of the house, but they were too late.
"You'll never get me, never," he muttered as the engine roared into life and carried him away.
TBC...
