"You…hit him?"
"It was just a little punch! He deserved it anyways," Harvey snapped peevishly, his dark eyes stormy and filled with anger. Bruce Wayne raised an eyebrow, a look of concern crossing his strong, handsome features.
"What? What was he doing?"
Harvey hesitated, placing a cigarette to his lips and taking a long drag on it before releasing a smoky breath and turning back to Bruce. "He was talking to her."
Bruce stopped in his tracks, now looking quite puzzled. "He was…talking to her? So you hit him?"
"Yeah."
"Right. I just wanted to clarify." Bruce shook his head and continued walking behind his friend as they began up the steps to Arkham Asylum. "Are you sure you're allowed back here after this incident?"
"They told me I had to stay away for at least five days. It's been five days." Harvey dropped the cigarette to the wet cement stairs, crushing it beneath his foot with a grin. "Good thing the guards here don't give a crap about their patients. Some guy even offered me 20 bucks to hit him again."
Bruce laughed and pushed open the front door, though a slight feeling of worry crawled up his skin in the form of a shiver. He never liked Arkham. It was a looming brick building on the outskirts of the city. No one came around unless it was intentional. It used to be a home…this gigantic behemoth of a building used to be a home.
He remembered finding Rachel in the basement…Doctor Crane…no…the Scarecrow had drugged her once. He had almost lost her.
Now she was lost. He never wanted to believe it, but Scarecrow had succeeded in his mission. The thought was enough to send Bruce into a meditative silence, his face etched with a frown.
"Hey! Bruce! You coming or what?" Harvey called from a good ways down the corridor. Bruce was still at the door, holding it open for no one. He blinked from his stupor and gave an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, Harv. Just thinking about how creepy this place is."
"Hmph, Bruce Wayne afraid of a little mental institution. Maybe you should buy it and convert it into a mall or something," Harvey added snidely as the two walked up the grand staircase to the upper levels housing the inmates.
-----------------------------
Harvey and Bruce were led to the old library again. It was Bruce's first time there, since the other visits to Rachel had been in her cell, a one-on-one talk with her. Now there were people milling around aimlessly; some sat on the couches with wide, vacant eyes; there were a few reading and painting, playing with clay (or eating it); Bruce quirked an eyebrow and looked at Harvey, who nodded to the far right corner of the room. "Over there."
Rachel Dawes sat stooped over in a chair, her eyes downcast as she scribbled lightly on something. The two men nudged their way through the wandering inmates, some screamed nonsense in their faces while others stumbled away, eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. Rachel glanced up when two shadows befell her, her brown eyes wide, expecting the worse. Her expression softened when she stared up at the two handsome faces above her.
"Well," she said gently, putting down her pencil and closing the small journal. "To what do I owe the honor?"
"Just wanted to see how our favorite inmate was holding up," Harvey chuckled as the young woman hopped to her feet, the shackles around her ankles and wrists rattling with the movement.
"I think you just want to knock someone else's lights out again, Mr. Dent," she grinned and Harvey gave a snort, muttering something along the lines of 'You got that right'. She motioned to the journal on her seat. "And thanks for that. I think it's really helping me out. Keeping me sane in a place like this…" She cast a side glance at Bruce who was watching her intently. She knew his secret, and she could see the Batman working behind those eyes…a calculative stare, analytical in all aspects. She pursed her lips and looked at Harvey. "Hey, do…do you think Bruce and I can talk for a second, Harvey?"
The man looked over at Bruce, then back at Rachel with a knowing grin. "Ah, gotcha…" Harvey stepped away, his eyes canvassing the room, when a familiar face caught his eye. It was more like the back of his head. A pale, greasy looking man was hunched before a game of sorts, another man across from him with the same game.
A guttural growl escaped Harvey. He thrust his hand into his coat pocket. If he couldn't smoke to get his mind off of him, he'd have to entertain himself another way. With a flick of the wrist, Harvey snapped his hand from his pocket and a silver dollar flipped into the air.
Ping!
Harvey had a steady hand. It was a trick he practiced as a kid. One hand toss, a swipe of his bear-paw of a hand, and a smooth catch. He never missed.
Ping!
It was relaxing. The sound of metal spinning in the air, cutting through the chaos.
Ping!
Almost as relaxing as his cigarettes.
Ping!
He really should quit…it was such a nasty habit. But hey—
Ping!
To each his own.
"You know that's really annoying."
Harvey caught his coin effortlessly, a scowl on his face, and looked over at the source of the voice. Jonathan Crane sat twisted in his seat, an elbow on the back of his chair.
"Some people are trying to concentrate."
Harvey threw a look behind him at Bruce and Rachel. They were too busy talking to care about him. As soon as Jonathan turned back around, Harvey stuffed the coin back in his pocket. He felt the familiar anger welling up in him and couldn't stop himself from storming over.
His footsteps were loud, heavy, deliberate. He wanted Jonathan to know he was coming. But the young man didn't move, simply staring at the game before him.
Harvey stopped right beside the table, gripping the edges and leaning on it as he glared at Crane. "Were you talking to me?"
"Yes, now shut up," the young man retorted. "A9?"
"Nope," the other man sitting across from Jonathan murmured, keeping an eye on Harvey.
"Stop playing your stupid game. I'm talking to you."
"Sorry, you'll have to wait your turn like the other children. I'm on a roll."
"C2?"
"No," Jonathan sneered. He glared up at Harvey and waved him off like a child. "Go away. I'm trying to concentrate."
Harvey gave another snarl in his throat and reached forward, plucking a larger playing piece off Jonathan's board and tossing it at his forehead.
"Aw, Mr. Dent…" Jonathan pouted, turning his head upwards. "You sank my battleship," he retorted, his voice dripping with childish sarcasm. Jon lazily turned his eyes back to the man before him. "Didn't I tell you, Marvin?" He said, gesturing his hands as he spoke with a frown. "These lawyer types always have to ruin the fun."
Harvey glared at Marvin and pointed in the other direction. "Get up. I want to have a little heart-to-heart with this guy."
"You mean a little fist-to-face, don't you?" Jonathan purred as Harvey took Marvin's seat, pushing aside the two game boards. "Oh what did I do now? I'm no where near Miss Dawes, and I'm playing board games. What…did I blink wrong this time?"
Harvey smirked, his eyes narrowed. "No, just wanted to see how that face was coming along." He eyed the violet bruise on Jonathan's face, now edged with a light green tinge of healing skin. "Nicely, I see."
Jonathan smirked, his full lips thinning slightly. "I'm surprised they didn't lock a brute like you up after hitting a defenseless mental patient."
"You're no more defenseless than a maniac killer with a knife."
"I didn't have a knife."
Harvey's fists tightened. "That's not the point, Crane. Listen…I hate what you did to my city. I hate the fact innocent people are dead because of you. I hate that you hurt Dawes. More importantly, I hate you."
Jonathan quirked an eyebrow. "That's a little harsh, wouldn't you say?"
"No…because if I had my way, you'd be walking down the old corridor straight to the chair. You took away plenty of lives, Crane…yours can't be that important."
Jonathan's lip turned up, leaving a lopsided smile plastered across his face. He gave a snort of laughter and leaned forward, his voice a low hiss. "Listen to me, Mr. Dent, and listen to me very well…I'd keep that temper in check if I were you. I may not be a threat to someone like Harvey Dent, District Attorney and all around pig-headed lawyer…but keep up this habit of yours, and someone much bigger and much stronger than either you or me will come along…"
Harvey slowly rose to his feet, his chair screeching as it was pushed back. "Is that a threat, Crane?"
"It's a promise, Mr. Dent," Jonathan smirked, staring up at the man.
Harvey didn't move, but the two men kept a deadly stare-off. Jonathan's chilling blue eyes were like ice. They never moved, it looked like he wasn't even blinking. Harvey's darker blue eyes stormed violently, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he balled up his fist.
"Go on Mr. Dent…make it an even blow." Jon placed a bony finger to his uninjured cheek. "I dare you."
Harvey stared at the pale man's face. He wanted to pound it in his skull, to vent out his frustrations. But something caught his eye. Something that stopped him from doing something he'd regret, and instead made him smirk. Jonathan's confident smile dropped and he looked at Harvey in puzzlement.
"What?"
"I don't need to do anything…" Harvey began to make his way around the table, Crane's eyes following him. "Rachel already left her mark there for you."
Jonathan blinked, running his fingertips on his fair skin and gave a snarled curse as he felt the smooth texture of his scar. The one Rachel's taser had given him.
Bruce looked as Harvey approached, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Hey, I thought you couldn't go near that guy."
"I needed to talk."
Bruce gave a nod and looked back at Rachel. "Well, I…I'll see you later, Rache. I got plans tonight…I promised the big bosses I'd sit with some foreign dignitary and hammer out some stock merges or something like that."
"Sounds riveting," Rachel smiled. "I'm sure you'll have fun."
"I'll try," Bruce sighed. He turned, jerking his head to the door. "Ready to go, Harv?"
"Yup," Dent said and gave Rachel a polite nod. "See you, Dawes. Don't let these guys get to ya."
"I'll try not to," she murmured, and her eyes followed the last chance of outside contact until they were out the door.
She gave a strained noise, blowing a piece of hair from her face, and looked over, only to feel her heart give a startled jolt.
Jonathan stared at her, his eyes narrowed as she shifted under his gaze.
"Alright, get up, rec time over. Back to your rooms…"
It was only then did Jonathan look away, focusing on the floor before him. Rachel gripped the small journal in her hands, her nails digging into the hard cover.
She wished Harvey had thrown another punch. That way the little creep would be out like a light right about now.
A.N: Thanks for the reviews so far. I'm glad you guys are liking the story. :) This was definitely my favorite chapter so far, only because imagining Crane playing board games is quite enjoyable.
A big thanks to cherryhobbit for helping me as I milled about in a rut. The next chapter may be more focused on Bruce than on Crane, just to let you guys know.
Much love to you all :) Please keep reviewing, and keep on reading!
