Chapter Text
(Bruce’s POV)
“Harvey Dent” as they were once called, though very little of them could classify as such anymore, and very few people called them by that name, stood on a ledge. A long time ago- or what felt like it - people would’ve assembled a search party. Police would’ve lined the bottom of the building, yelling at them to get down. That was then.
The Gotham City Police Department would be glad to see him gone now.
A cold voice echoed from their mouth, but it belonged to neither Harvey nor Harv.
“Harvey Dent. For your crimes, I sentence you to de-”
Harvey was scared. Harv was terrified. Within the bounds of their mind each face of the coin clawed desperately for safety to no avail.
The judge’s rule was cut off by a far too familiar growl.
“Step away from the ledge Harvey!”
The judge turned. Of course he didn’t smile. That would’ve been a biased judgment. But he found the caped crusader’s appearance funny, that was clear. Batman was certain that Harvey felt his presence reassuring, though he didn’t know how or why.
“I’m afraid your ‘Two-Face’ has left the witness stand, Batman. But I promise you, someone besides Harvey Dent will serve you your sentence when I am gone.”
Nearby, the sniveling lump of a man some referred to as the Mad Hatter sobbed, tugging on the Dark Knight’s cape.
“I didn’t do anything to him I swear!” His hat drooped, as if to testify to his innocence.
“‘I don’t think-’ said Alice to the hatter ” he began, quoting his favorite book as further unintentional proof of his predetermined insanity. His arrest would have to wait. There were more important things to do.
“Then don’t talk.” The Batman finished, turning back to the man on the ledge.
“You won’t be going anywhere except Arkham. They’ll have meds for you there. I suggest you take them.”
The three-men-in-one-body snarled in response, “Goodbye, I sentence you to a life of guilt.” And Batman could see the tiniest sliver of Big Bad Harv joining in on the fun as they stepped off the roof.
Batman followed close behind.
He swept the sufferer of dissociative identity disorder, which Alfred had determined about a week before he had, up in his cape, shooting a grappling hook to the top of the building and saving them in one swift motion.
As the vigilante released the criminal from his arms, fear returned visibly to Two-Face’s face. Or faces. Both halves.
“I managed to gain control. But I can’t hold him off long.” He winced in pain. He tensed up. Batman wondered if Harv was there too, or if he was trapped in the depths of Harvey’s mind.
“I’m, uh. Here too.” The gruff voice of Harv confirmed.
Batman felt disappointed by the statement. Harvey was his best friend once upon a time. Was it that much to ask of him to stay and talk?
“Listen,” Harvey said as he reached out his unscarred hand, “If I don’t make it out of this one, I want you to know Bruce. I- I…”
The criminal trailed off, but Batman was reassured by his other personality yelping.
“Don talk like that Harvey! No Judge can catch us! This ain’t our first time!”
Bruce helped the two limp down the stairs of
“Are you planning on arresting us?” They managed in unison.
Batman felt himself sigh.
“Not today. You need help.” It was true. “You can… stay in the cave for a while. I have a friend that I’ll call. She can help.”
Maybe it was because of their history, but the caped crusader hated seeing him behind bars. For the first time since… since maybe the joker, he found himself scared. What if none of his contacts could help him? What if he’d be back to putting his best friend through the revolving doors of Arkham?
It was painful to even contemplate. He felt more immoral than his entire rogues gallery just providing the empty promises.
The building, which for some reason he hadn’t recognized in the dead of night from sky view, was in fact, a bank, as he now realized. Opening the doors to the stairs to the roof he was met with an abrupt silence that clearly hadn’t been there before from countless gothamites who were likely either robbing the bank, or tired of working retail. The civilians and villains alike cleared their path for the three of them. Or four of them. Batman certainly hoped that the judge was gone for good.
Some respected him, some respected Two-Face. He doubted any of them were fans of both.
“Get a life.” He mumbled at the gathering crowd as he helped the (potentially conscious) crime lord out of the doors.
He heard people resuming their bustling business as he closed them behind him.
Batman stepped onto the sidewalk, leading Two-Face along with him. Somehow the fighting with the judge was affecting his mobility.
Luckily, Oracle had remote control parked the Batmobile outside the building while he was saving Two-Face’s life.
That said, Batman rushed the staggering crime lord into the passenger seat.
He watched their shoulders slump and hurried into the front seat.
Slowly, the dark knight un-parked, scarcely tearing his eyes away from Two-Face.
Both Harvey’s wheezed, their chest rising and falling dramatically with each breath.
“Bruce. You gotta know.” The first sentence was uttered in the voice of the former Lawyer and the second in his more gruesome personality.
Batman tried to think logically. There was still a possibility that Two-Face was just hallucinating his repressed memories of childhood friendships during his visible breakdown. Batman didn’t believe a word of what he told himself, but it was possible.
He lowered his voice as always, unrecognizable from that of his civilian identity.
“I’m Batman” It was simultaneously a statement and correction.
Harv let out a rasping laugh. “Yeah chuckles. I got that.”
Harvey apologized. Sort of. “Stop being a moron for five seconds and let me speak!”
Harv relented with a huff and fell silent as a mouse with its mouth duck taped closed.
“I… love you.” Harvey squeaked, his voice small and shy but determined.
Batman tried to focus on the road. He just had to get Two-Face some help.
Two-Face closed their eyes. Batman said, “Batmobile, turn on auto-pilot.”
“Auto-Pilot engaged.” A voice that heavily resembled a British siri replied. Alfred seriously had to stop switching the computer’s voice to a British accent. It was creepy. Even for him.