Batman Beyond: Two-Face II

By ShadowHawk

Chapter 17: Beyond Good & Evil

Disclaimer: We don't own the characters used.

Ancient architecture had mixed with the none too new age forming to create Gotham City, The City of Tomorrow: resulting in architecture that combines stone cathedrals and shining towers of glass and steel. Stark angles, creeping shadows, dense, crowded, as if hell had erupted through the sidewalks. Hundreds of cars, taxis, and buses cruised along the streets, as a siren echoed off from somewhere in the distance.

It seemed the commotion was most concentrated in the night draped Gotham Square where the pushers waved sociably to the ill-clad hooks scattered about the street. The street hustlers nodded heads towards the three-card Monte dealers. It seemed as if they all knew each other on some bizarre level...with one conspicuous exception...

Marching warily down the main drag an obvious tourist family of three: Mom, Dad, and sweet little Jimmy. Fresh out of a show with playbills in hands walked away from the thinning theatre crowd onto Gotham's meanest street.

The steady taps of the mother's dress shoes against the sidewalks. "For God's sake, can we please just get a taxi?" She questioned with a nag.

The father's aged face turned down with a hard scowl. "I'm trying to get a -TAXI!" He waved the playbill for added effect.

Three cabs streaked pass and disappeared none sparing the little family a glance. Jimmy turned his attention away from the streets down onto a city map. "We're going the wrong way." He stated matter-of-factly.

At hearing his words the nearby street loiterers began to snicker at their situation.

"Put that away. We'll look like tourists." His father hissed in a low voice embarrassed by the local's laughter.

"But we are tourists."

They continued their trek moving before two cops who leaned on their patrol car outside an all-night Souvlaki stand, sipping coffee and chatting with a doll-faced hooker. The hooker turned her bedroom eyes away from to men to smile onto little Jimmy. He returned the smile until his mother yanked him away walking briskly down the street all the while glowing at her husband.

"We'll never get a cab. Let's cut over to Main Street and catch the bus." The father said eager to dodge his wife's heated eyes.

"Dad, Main Street is the other way." Jimmy stated pointing into the direction away from their current course.

"I know where we're going!"

Marching on into a deserted street lined with stripped-down cars braced on cinderblocks, from behind one of the cars a voice rasps out. "Hey, mister. Gimme a dollar?" A mere derelict, his acne-scarred face placed him about nineteen or twenty and down on his luck wearing a ratty 'I LOVE GOTHAM CITY' T-shirt that reeked of stagnant water and cheap beer.

Pretending not to hear him they moved quickly on.

"Mister, how about it? One dollar?" Again not reviving so much as a glance he stood onto his feet. "What are you deaf or something? - Do you speak English?"

Quickening their pace they moved on until the man's rants were faint and far behind. Their focus were still on the frightening man that none of the three noticed the shadowy figure in the alleyway; that is until a gloved hand slammed the blunt handle of a gun across the father's neck.

Watching her husband crumple onto the filthy sidewalk the mother grabbed her son and began backing up against the wall of the near building her scream of terror trapped in her throat. With wide eyes she watch as the derelict races to join their attacker, a meager street punk with the taste of clashing fashion from the 80s, who was already searching the fallen man for his wallet.

The wife's fear was ready to snap, turning into a hissing and biting banshee when the punk trained his gun on young Jimmy. "Do the kid a favor, lady. Don't scream."

The tears were falling down her face as she swallowed the building scream and clutched her petrified son closer to her.

With the deed down the two men chuckle at their plight before racing away. With the gun down and her need to be strong for her son now over the woman's self-control disintegrated as the cry she had bit back rose up again to rip from her mouth the sound echoing throughout the dreary ally.

At a darkly ornate Gothic anomaly: an old City Cathedral, once grand in its prime, long since boarded up. The stone gargoyles gaze with hideous faced down from their rooftops cast in shadows.

A woman's heart wrenching screams echoed up onto deaf stoned ears.

And from its post leering over the edge one of the gargoyles moved...

Taking refuge on the tar and gravel roof the pair sized up their take for the night.

"Alright! Look Eddie, American Express. Don't leave home without it." The punk laughed.

The cool wind blew as Eddie tossed the card out of his way as he counted the cash. In the distant a metallic clang made the thief tense.

"Nick, let's beat it, man. I don't like it up here."

"What are ya, scared of heights?" Nick teased still high from their quick job; he never got enough of putting his gun in people's faces and watching the fear in their terrified eyes.

"I dunno. After what happened to Johnny Gobs-" Eddie's reasoning was brought short as Nick scoffed.

"Look, Johnny Gobs got ripped and walked off a roof, all right? No big loss."

The ache scarred man, having long forgotten about counting the money, shook his head from side to side, "No, man. That ain't what I heard at all."

He paused as if weighing his words, "I heard the Bat got him."

"The Bat? Gimme a break, will you, Eddie? Batman has better things to do than chase down some mugger."

From the dark shadows of the roof top where no light could touch the sharp corners another sound could be heard. Not even Nick could ignore the slight tingle at the base of his spine that made the very hairs on his neck stand on end.

Eddie kept going on, "My brother, a priest says... all the bad things you done... they come back and haunt you..."

"No wonder you're such a chickenshit. Now shut up." He snapped stating conclusively to quiet the fear of his friend and himself. "There ain't no bat up here."

At the opposite corner of the roof, some fifteen yards away a strange black silhouette baring glowing white eyes walked slowly implacably towards the light.

"I can't believe you turned your gun on the kid." Eddie said with disbelief.

"You want your cut of this money or don't you? Now shut up! Shut up and..."

Both Nick and Eddie froze at the sudden inexplicable sound of the rooftop gravel crunching beneath the weight of foot falls. Slowly they turn towards the source of approaching sound their jaws dropping with the sight that they saw.

At the edge of the roof, bathed in the glows of the city lights stood a black apparition. Frozen in his place a choked gurgle sputtered from Eddie's throat, his eyes opened wide with shock and disbelief. With slowly stalking steps the dark form approached moving closer and closer to the point that they could see the emblem of a bat on the chest, it was almost like it was a target, glowing in the darkness.

Dropping to the gravel Nick grabbed his gun firing twice. Anyone present would have seen the gun's discharge land two clean hits on the Tomorrow Knight's body before he crumbled onto the surface as if wounded or if the pair was lucky dead.

"I'm gettin' outta here." Nick grumbled through shaky breathes as he bent down to retrieve his loot, his desire to remain was no longer present, he too had heard legend of Batman and he did not wish to stay to see what was true and what was fiction dreamed up by some frightened crook.

His actions were halted as his companion, Eddie, released an odd squeal, looking up to physically scold him Nick saw what had drawn the sound from him. Batman, back on his feet moving slowly and inevitable closer to them in a manner that was downright nightmarish.

Panic he made to flee sending the stolen money into the air to flutter in the humid updraft of the vents. He scuttled frantically across the roof top his friend forgotten for his own getaway. It seemed as though for a brief moment he would get away when a shadowed specter blocked his path to the fire escape. Trapped like a rat, Nick fired wildly while whimpering at the cruelty of his fate.

Two! There were two of them! Eddie's face paled as he looked back and forth between what was slowly making its way towards him and the lissome figure skillfully dodging Nick's aimless gunshots.

Looking back at Batman, he gasped to find him standing no more than arm's length away. Moving solely on adrenaline and instinct he sent a clutched fist flying towards the dark stoic face of Batman.

As if he had melted with the very shadows about him the Bat evaded his move and with fluid grace a black boot cut through the air between them catching Eddie high in his solar plexus, a winding blow that lifted him cleanly off his feet through the air and into chimney shaft.

Batman watched cautiously as the man's body slid roughly against the coarse surface before slumping into an unconscious heap.

The sound of gunfire drew his pale covered eyes towards the other petty mugger and the dark figure easily avoiding his hysteria induced wild shots.

A dark hand sliced down from the darkness sending the frightened man tumbling backwards onto his posterior. But that did not stop Nick as his finger continued to squeeze the trigger over and over again with his eyes tightly closed in hopes that when they opened the monsters would be gone. The hammer fell on an empty chamber with a resounding click, the sound bringing dread on the frightened man's heart but he continued to pull the trigger.

Coming onto the scene with the crowing crook and the figure dressed in halved black and white. Red covered eyes looked down on the pathetic sight before looking upwards towards him silently giving him permission to handle the rest.

Grabbing Nick by the collar of his shirt he hoisted him into the air so that his worn down sneakers dangled a good half a foot from the ground.

"Don't kill me... Please don't kill me." He begged with a sob. Feeling the momentum stop he slowly opens his eyes to see Batman and Ten standing on the ledge of the roof holding him out over a twelve stories of nothingness.

Ten was the first to speak, "We won't kill you. Word has it that some of you lowlifes are working for Jef- Two-Face. Where is he?"

Nick looks down where far, far below him the multitude of cars winked silently past on the street below. Releasing a cry of fear he looked up to see, in the mirrored lenses where Batman's eyes should have been, the twin reflections of his own stricken face.

"Two-... Two-... Two-Face? No, I don't know where he is." He stammered pitifully as he fought to reach solid terra firma.

Batman growled lowly in his throat before shaking his arms making Nick's body jerk, "You're lying."

"No, no, Two-Face, he has a long line of employees. He works the bosses and the bosses work the gangs who work us. W-we never even see him! Now please pull me back!" Nick howls.

Batman looked towards the impassive face of Ten who in turn nodded silently towards him. Batman heaved him roughly back onto the tar-and-gravel surface of the roof. "We're done here." He said casually, without a moment's hesitation, diving off the ledge into midair with Ten in pursuit.

Trembling, Nick crawled to the ledge and hesitantly looked over finding absolutely no trace of the Batman or Ten.

The scene of the earlier mugging was soon abuzz with spectators, police cars, an ambulance, and a forensics van. The shouts of Nick filled the lively air as two officers cuffed him from behind.

Porcine cop, Lt. Daniel Sykes stood aside a medic watching as Eddie was pushed past on a stretcher, catatonic. He jotted down on his notepad as he questioned the medic for his report. "No, let me guess. That Batman freak again." He said dryly annoyed that his job was being over taken by a vigilante in a costume.

"That's it," Said the medic his eyes following after the catatonic man as the team placed him in the ambulance. "What are they seeing up there? Is he really that bad? A freak man-bat like they say?"

"They're all drinkin' Drano." Sykes scoffed closing his notepad.

The medic visibly shuddered at the mental image of some freakish bat, "If you ask me it's still weird, Lieutenant."

Sykes frown as an unwelcome sight came into view. A young man with a mane of dark hair combed back making him appear more like an underfed rooster, with a recorder clutched tightly in one hand. "Great, the crackpot." He said beneath his voice.

The 30 year old crime reporter for the Gotham Globe pushed his way passed the police tape, as he stepped lightly towards Sykes, "Hiya, gents. I hear we got another bat attack. I also I hear the Commissioner's been pressing down on police forces to bring a stop to Two-Face." He said.

"Sorry, Decker. These two slipped on a banana peel and fell on top of a roof."

The two uniformed men dragged the brain-fried Nick passed them.

"Batman, I tell you, it was Batman and a woman!" Decker smirked pleased with what just happened. Sykes and the Medic traded disgusted looks.

Irritated Sykes moves closer to the reporter. "Don't be writing this crap in your little newspaper, it'll ruin your already useless reputation."

"Lieutenant, lotsa punks in town're scared stiff! They say the man's immortal and he hibernates every once in a while or something."

"Decker, you're full of shit." He said turning away in annoyance. "And that you can quote me on!" He moved on down the alley way away from the flashing lights and people.

Sykes emerged onto the side street spying a stretch limo idling nearby.

Leaning on the hood, waving 'hi' was the seductive pair Dee-Dee, and between them looking highly dandy stood Two-Face with the damnedest grin on his hideous façade.

Two-Face's odd driver Buttons McBoomboom stood steadfast near the door and leaning against him polishing a gun stood Harley Jest.

Moving away from the girls Two-Face tossed a brown paper sandwich bag towards him, "I brought you a little something, Sykes."

Taking a peek inside the bag he sees that it's full of 100 dollar bills. He threw a nervous glance back in the direction of the other cops and reporters before quickly stuffing it inside his coat.

"Care to be a little more discrete, Two-Face?" He demanded.

Two-Face scolded, "Shut up and listen, I hear rumor that the Mayor has put pressure on Commissioner Gordan to bring me and my associates down or else the National Guard is going to be sniffing around."

Sykes bristled at the news. "As far as we know it's merely a rumor. The Commissioner's my territory, Two-Face. If there's a problem-"

Suddenly, Two-Face grabs Sykes by the lapels of his coat. "Daniel, Daniel my friend...your problems is our problems."

Two-Face clapped a hand on Sykes's face and shoved him full-force into the wall behind him. The cop sprawled backwards onto his ass in the doorway of an all-night Cuban-Chinese restaurant. Where the patrons stood staring out of the restaurant windows watching for any signs of a good fight.

Livid Sykes's hand went instinctively to his gun.

"Here. Use mine." Two-Face said as he pulled an automatic from his pocket and tosses it in Sykes's lap. He looks down and laughs, daring him to pick it up - just as Buttons McBoomboom and Harley appear from behind him for reinforcement. All looking down on him with wild eyes that begged for him to give them a reason to kill.

Sykes wiped the blood from his mouth as Two-Face smirked reaching down for the gun in his lap. "It's all right, guys. Lt. Sykes here is a good cop. A real good cop." He paused allowing his smirk to grow into an all out smile, "Inexpensive."

Stunned, Sykes turns bright red and grabs Two-Face by the coat collar and whips out his gun.

Two-Face calmly looked down at Sykes's hands as the latter brought the gun up to fire.

His face was relaxed as his mismatched eyes looked up, "Watch the suit."

Breathing heavily, Sykes lets go of Two-Face's coat, looking back to the man's backup he sees four guns trained on his body. Taking another deep breath to calm himself he lowered his gun.

Two-Face smiled as he patted him none too gently against his cheek, "See. You can make a good decision...when you try."

Laughing insanely in Sykes's ashen face he retreats back to his limo with his gunmen in tow.

When Two-Face was out of earshot, Sykes muttered menacingly beneath his breath, "And where have you been spending your nights, Two-Face?"

It had been some days after seeing to it that his fateful pet of a lieutenant remembered who his master was Two-Face had found the corrupted city a bore for the night, slipping back into the sanctuary that was his base of operations, his sanctuary, and his home.

Sitting alone at his desk, divided likewise to fit his split persona, Two- Face stared down on the cluttered collection of newspaper clippings, all spitting the name of the Batman sardonically into his face.

With each try to end the life of the foul city's legend it seemed for a moment that he had won only to be so cruelly informed that his well thought out plans had all been for not.

The soft glows of his computer notebook cast his disfigured face into a sinister leer as he worked putting each brilliantly twisted thought into the work of plotting the demise of his annoyance, the plague that was Batman.

So into his work was he that he did not hear the door of his office open, letting the rambunctious commotion of his legion of twins allowing Harley within, "Ya've been workin' too hard." She chided adoringly as she sat a plates consisting of his dinner on the desk according to which side preferred what. "This is the fourth time I had to bring you something to eat."

Pausing momentarily Two-Face pulled the plates towards him, taking small forkfuls with proper decorum before switching to the plate to his left, practically shoveling the offerings into his mouth with his scarred hand. "I wouldn't be working so hard if the Bat was bleeding, hurting, deceased, departed, lifeless, over all dead!" He stated heatedly, his eyes full of accusation; after all if she and the others could do their work properly then he would not be in his current situation.

She sighed looking to his right to see a small faux platinum picture frame, within was an amateur photo of Jeffery and trapped in a lover's embrace was a blonde haired woman with somewhat seductive eyes. "She's pretty." She commented off-handly.

Two-Face's right hand casually reached outwards placing the framed face down on the desktop. "You can go now, Harl." His dismissal was gruff and cold leaving no room for argument or disobedience.

Scowling at his back with her lips puckered out in a pout she walked off, a plan with the woman in the photo already forming in her none to well mind.

Melanie Walker slowly dragged herself through the door carelessly disposing of her work shoes in the corner and letting her hair down from the customary ponytail. It was a long day, giving she had to pull double shift after a night of scouting with Batman, and not to mention she wasn't truly feeling all too well. The comforts of her bed and pillows practically screamed to her to rest.

Pausing in the closed doorway a frown passed over her tired face, something was amiss in her home. In movements that one could swear by was merely a blur she turned on the light while simultaneously drawing an Ace of Spades throwing card from her sleeve.

Once her eyes had adjusted to the sudden flash of light her frown deepened at what, actually who she saw. There sitting on the couch of the living room was Harley Jest, grinning widely with her gun aimed directly at her head. "Up to par I see." She chuckled from behind the gun.

"What do you want?" Mel questioned holding the playing cards defensively.

Quickly placing her gun back in the holster at her outer thigh in a sigh she wasn't there to fight Harley spoke, "Just to see the woman who holds half the heart of Two-Face for myself. And I must say I'm impressed."

"Jealous?" Mel questions putting away her cards.

The cheerful smirk on Harl's face lowered into a scowl before lifting once again into a smug little grin, "A tad bit, but then again I'm not the one helpin' Batman...Ten."

Mel frowned at the accusation her mind drifting away from the woman before her to wonder how her Jeffery trapped in the persona of Two-Face felt about her aiding his sworn enemy. Perhaps the same way her family felt when she wished to leave them for Terry. Angry? Betrayed? And perhaps overall hurt?

Steeling her show of emotions from the jester she retorted, "What does he care? If I'm not mistaken you're one Two-Face's lovers."

Harley smiled bashfully before moving to walk about the living room looking at the photos of the two that decorated a small portion of the wall. "True, hell I'd go as far as to say I love the man. But sadly Jeffery boy still has this thing for ya. Ya know when he sees you helpin' Batsy it tears him up inside, even worse than he is already? That half of him still loves ya despite his present company." She waved a hand down the length of her own body for display. "He even keeps your picture near by. I'd kill to have a love like that."

There was a sad sort of chuckle with her words.

Mel was torn between strangling the mistress of Two-Face and maintaining her self- control to listen to whatever she had to say. "So what do you purpose I do?" She managed to growl out of her clenched teeth.

"Simple." Harl's face turned hard as stone as she looked back at Mel. "Just stop helpin' him. Let Batsy die, another will pop up sooner or later. The Bat is like a weed, a roach even, ya never really get rid of him for long."

Mel watched as the woman said her peace before smiling waving her farewells with a twiddle of her thumbs as she moved towards the opened window. How could she expect for her to just stop in her quest to save her Jeffery? She did not know what she was saying. The tears of her frustration and helplessness leaked from her eyes as she thought of what was being asked of her. "You're to talk you haven't lost the man you love!" She shouted at the retreating jester's back.

Harl froze as a sharp pain ran through her heart. She thought of her ex- lover and the very pain she felt when she had found he had left her, but just as soon had the thought entered her mind was it pushed away with the knowledge of her current lover, the man Gotham feared, Two-Face. "Ya wouldn't know. Take my word, lil' Ten, stop tryin' to stop him. You're breakin' both his hearts."

"So what am I suppose to do? Just leave him?" Mel demanded in a near sob.

Turning Harley smirked deviously at Mel, "I didn't say anythin' about leavin' him. In fact I'm thinkin' just the opposite."

Mel was silent as what Harley had said began to soak in. "Why are you doing this?" She asked in a whisper, "I thought-"

"Yes I do love him, but he won't be happy unless he has you again...and the Bat dead. So for him I'll do whatever it takes to make him happy, even if I have to give him up." The tender look on her face quickly lifted into a smile as she tossed a small black and red card towards her. "Here, in case ya should ever need me. Ha, call me your beck and call girl." With a laugh the red and black dressed jester vanished out the window leaving Mel along only with her memories and the temptations of the offer.

Peering past his own disfigured reflection out onto the brightly lit night of Two-Face looked out onto the city of Gotham with an ever present scowl spoiling his already repellent looks. "If I wanted to murder Batman, I've got to lure him to me, but how? What can I steal? What clues can I leave that are both obvious...and yet subtle?" He pondered to the air aloud while flipping his coin. "After all, it never gets any easier."

He turned his mismatch eyes towards a pair of well muscled identical twins with crafty gray-blue eyes peering from behind sandy blond hair, his advisors Tomax and Xamot. Or nearly identical given the knife scar beneath Xamot's left eye.

The handsome pair was well known in the underground for their business savvy though they excelled quiet well as fighters Two-Face had only one real desire with the pair, and that was to act as his counsel and organize the funds his business brought in.

"What about..." began Tomax.

"Blowing up..." filled Xamot.

"...The Twin Towers." Tomax finished.

"Blow up the Twin Towers? Possible, it will be the second time. But what do I get out of it besides Batman's death?" Two-Face asked to his twin advisors.

"You could kill..." Began Tomax once again.

Xamot filled in once more, "Two birds..."

"With one stone." Finished Tomax.

"I do like killing two birds with one stone. Should I do it?" He said while flipping the coin up in the air.

Slapping it down on his wrist he scoffed at the results. Good side, "Scratch the Towers."

He looked at his coin and then to his advisors his frustrations growing at his dilemma, "It's getting harder and harder planning these two-sided crimes. Perhaps I should alter my modus operandi just this once?" He questioned.

Tomax looked down at the spread out sheets of newspaper started, "There's the charity performance of..."

"The comedy of Errors..." Said Xamot.

"To Consider." "Two sets of..." "Twin Brothers." "And the proceeds..." "Are going to..." "Two different charities."

Two-Face grinned at their efforts, "Clichéd. You two have got to be original or he'll be suspicious. I believe the Bat already has the place set for surveillance, not to mention all of the GCP. If anything or anyone would think it was a trap."

Two-Face paced the floors of the penthouse that once belong to Grissom, "Let's see...Two? Twins? Duo? Duet? Do any of them spark an idea? Which would he respond to?"

The pair was at odd as to what to do, all plans seemed too obvious yet they wanted Batman to suspect their plan of actions. If it be too easy then all of Gotham could figure out what it was that they were up to and they had no desires for that.

"The problem is he's brilliant. I need inspiration - something deadly, something worthy."

"Something-" Started Tomax with a questioning brow elevated.

Xamot mirrored his brother's expression, "Deadly and-"

"Worthy?" He finished.

A sinister grin graced the hideously marred visage of Two-Face, "Deadly and worthy, definitely a double threat."

"Dali's double - headed painting..." Offered Tomax.

"Is on exhibit." Finished Xamot.

Two-Face frowned shaking his head from side to side, "No, not enough profit."

Xamot thought a moment before speaking again, "The museum has a two-tined..."

"Jewel-encrusted..." "Demi-lune blade" "Worth thousands." "You could..." "Steal it..." "And kill him..."

"With it..." "At the same time." The pair wore matching baleful leers about their faces as they imagined the bloody demise of the menace of Gotham known as Batman.

"No," Two-Face dejected the idea quickly with his flat tone, "I haven't stolen weapons before he'd suspect a trap."

Taking a moment to think Tomax looked to his brother before coming up with one final plan, "There is..."

"A television program," "That has this host..." "Named William Morgan," "Who is said that..." "he 'Helps the helpless'..." "And heals the wounds." They said switching back and forth until their idea had been spoken.

Two-Face paused in mid-stride of his pacing before turning his face lifted in interest towards his advisors, "Really? Let me see."

The Twin advisors handed the ad over to their boss, watching as he looked it over the gleam in his left eye twinkled with what one could deduce as joy. With quick movements Two-Face flipped his coin into the air watching as it rotated over and over again as it descended to his open palm. Peeking down his grin grew.

Bad side.

Melanie sat on the floor with young Matthew, better known throughout his family as Matt McGinnis, playing with his latest action figure. Seated on the couch behind them watching the little scene sat Terry.

"Melanie, it was so nice to meet you. It's nice to meet one of Terry's friends from college." Mary stated cheerfully as she prepared to venture out to work.

Mel cast her eyes back towards Terry furrowing a brow to ask why his mother thought she was a college buddy. But then again she had no right to really question since some time ago she had recruited him into investigating the Too Hot, Too Cool club; when he had called her to help him baby-sit his younger brother she felt she owed it to him. Besides she was getting quiet lonely in her apartment and ever since she had the small talk with Jeffery's henchwoman her mind had been a torrent of conflicting thoughts.

Mary was prepared to say her goodbyes when her eyes drifted to the television screen as it paused in mid-flick from Terry's channel surfing. "Oh wait, that show is on." Mary stated stopping in her steps to stare at the television screen.

The blue logo of Help the Helpless flashed across the screen seconds before the semi-suave looking host, William Morgan, towing a sizable belly spoke with his usual soothing yet brusque tone. "We're all here to listen to you. We all love you, John...and we want you to tell us what happened."

On the stage a stout little woman patted the shoulder of a thin young man, "S'all right, John." Said the mother, "You can talk, you can tell 'em."

John cautiously moved his haunted eyes from their gaze in his lap towards the camera where Morgan stood, "Muh...muh...daddy...he...he...he-"

William Morgan tilted his head slightly to the side in signs of false sympathy, "He used to hurt you?"

John's eyes turned glassy as the tears began to form, "Yeah sometimes he...he -"

Morgan gave the boy no time to get his sentences out himself, interrupting once more he finished the statements, "He used to beat you up, John. Didn't he?" Turning he made a great flourish with his hands practically spellbinding the feebleminded audience, "He used to hit you and hit you and hit you till you were bruised and bloody."

"No," John stated with wide eyes, "I... I don't wanna t-talk about it. I don't wanna-"

"It's important that you talk about it, John." The sympathy oozed from Morgan's mouth as he moved from his stand at the corner of the stage to sit in the empty seat along side the boy. "For you...and for everyone out there watching this show."

All who were watching could see as John's throat bobbed as he swallowed the lump that had formed there,

"Muh...muh daddy...he didn't mean it. He didn't mean to hurt me! HE DIDN'T MEAN TO HURT ME!" It was then the tears John could barely withhold fell from his bloodshot eyes.

William Morgan's arm reached out to rub comforting circles against the back of the broken boy, "Oh John, don't cry, don't cry. The pain is over now. It's time to heal. It's time to heal!" He voice rose up like some great TV evangelist, bringing about wild shouts of joy and crazed applause.

"Excuse me." A voice called out over the dieing cheers. Ignoring the voice Morgan went on paying his attention to his current 'case'. "Excuse me... I have a question." The calm voice called again in the now silent audience.

Annoyed Morgan stood onto his feet, his portly face tinted red with his anger, "We're not taking questions now, for God's sake. How insensitive can you be? Can't you see that this boy is-is-"

His words stopped in his throat as his eye befell the stomach churning sight of Two-Face and his gang standing in the aisles of the seats, all grinning murderously down onto him. But what really brought fear into the host's heart and nearly brought piss dribbling down his leg was the large two-headed serpent resting leisurely in the two persona man's arms, the rest of its body held up by Dee-Dee.

Two-Face grinned at the sudden blanching of the man, "I disagree, Mr. Morgan. I think it is time for a question, a very important question: Why? Why are you doing this? To help this little boy? I doubt it. To raise the national consciousness? Heal America's inner child? I seriously doubt it. No, you're doing this, Mr. Morgan out of sheer greed."

He cast his eyes about the set and the cameras all forced to focus on him, "Shining the image, upping the ratings, convincing your viewers that you're a concerned and compassionate man."

No one could miss the sneer in Two-Face's voice as he slowly cut the man down with the harsh bite of the truth. He stepped slowly down the steps approaching the stage carrying the snake with him, "Nothing wrong with greed, of course. Nothing wrong with power. But do you have to be such a...a hypocrite?" His face darkened slightly as the timber of his voice deepened with his anger. "Such a damn TWO-FACE?"

With no other warning he pitched his pet snake towards Morgan. The movements were quick, nearly undetectable. All everyone present knew was that something had happened one moment and then the next thing they were aware of was that Morgan's body was on the stage with the snake's body coiled tightly about him.

"Oh, god...Oh, god...Oh, god! Get it OFF me! Get it the hell OFF me!" Morgan shouted fighting in vain hopes of wiggling from the deadly serpent's grasp.

There was a slight hiss in the air seconds before the snake's mouth parted and the retractable fangs, filled with deadly venom, sunk into his cheek and neck, each scratch injecting a lethal dose of poison.

Morgan's cries wavered from demands to be freed to those of pain. His voice crocked into the air as his muscles twitched in uncontrollable spasms. His last moan of pain slipped from his swollen face, dieing before everyone's horrified eyes.

"Now that's more like it!" Two-Face's joyous exclamation brought everyone's attention back to the twisted mind before him. The Two Timin' gang moved quickly to detain the serpent as he took hold of the corpse of the dead host, his face turning to the near camera, "One thing you can say about death: It's HONEST. More honest than him...more honest than all of you out there in Television land. How do you people live with yourselves?" His face twisted into a look of disgust towards the human race, "You sit there, fat butts spreading out across the couch, watching the walking wounded parade across your TV screens day after day after day!"

"You sit there drinking beer and stuffing pretzels in your face...thinking you're so bloody SUPERIOR! No your family's not like that! Your kids aren't on drugs! Your husband's not sleeping around!" Tossing the corpse carelessly aside Two-Face growled into the camera, growled out onto all of Gotham, "Well, I've got news for you, maggots! You've all got secrets eating away at you...you're all walking wounded, all living lies!"

A silence fell over the once whimpering assemble of people, who sat in their seats doing the only thing they could...watch. Two-Face turned towards the subject of the show for the day, "Isn't that right, John?" He smirked lightly at the dumbfounded look on both John's and his mother's faces, "They mouth some inane platitudes about 'Healing the Shame' and then go right on swimming in the cesspool. But you can't heal the past, can you, John? Never heals, never dies. Families are poison and that poison eats away at you every day of every year for the rest of your pathetic, miserable life!"

Reaching into his coat he removed the pearl handle gun from the inner compartment of his two sided coat and aim the barrel at the boy's head. "Believe me," He said cocking his gun as his other hand revealed the two headed coin, "I'm doing you a favor." With a flip of the coin, a few brisk spins in the air it came down to its place in his palm, good side.

Smirking he scoffed lightly at the boy as his hands returned both coin and gun to the innards of his trench coat. Turning his back to the stage and facing his gang he waved a hand, "C'mon boys, we're out of here! Move it before someone shows up playing hero."

Just as Two-Face and his gang was about to exit John stood onto his feet calling frantically out to him, "M-Mister, mister WAIT! You-you've g-gotta shoot me. You've gotta!" John ignored the hushed pleads from his mother and those around him to seat back down and be quiet, he stood tall with the tears streaming down his rosy cheeks, "I'm bad, mister I do really bad things. Oh please- I wanna die!"

Two-Face stared down at John with a surprised look on both sides of his scarred face, "Who told you that you were bad?" He asked looking down onto John.

John shook his head once more, "N-Nobody, I just am."

Two-Face gritted his teeth together as the anger boiled, he knew the boy was lying, "Answer me...WHO THE HELL TOLD YOU?"

Choking back a sob John's eyes shed fresh tears, "My daddy." He cried in one short breath.

He could not help but let the smile grow on his face; Two-Face looked at the camera noticing they had yet to cut the feed, "His daddy? AH-HA-HA-HA- HA! His daddy!" He laughed, "Now what do you make of that, Gotham? Did it go down well with the chips and beer?"

Two-Face took hold of the camera pointing it towards the crying boy who moments ago begged for his death, "His daddy beats the crap out of him...and tells him it's his fault!" Two-Face's façade appeared once again on the screen, "You cowardly insects! You miserable hypocrites! You two-faced liars!" He hissed his accusations out onto the people he knew were unable to tear the eyes, hungry for the violence, away from their televisions, "Oh, you've been a bad city Gotham. A very bad city. And I..." He pulled his gun from his coat aiming directly into the camera's eye, "Am going to punish you!" With a pull of the trigger the screen went blank.

To Be Continued...