Chapter Text
Arkham Asylum has always been a hell. Constant screaming, even in the darkest hours of the night. The sound of nails on walls, the dripping leaks of a water pipe just two cells down, the laughing from the insane, the running of rats. Not to mention the hell it is to have neighbors like The Joker and Riddler.
It used to be slightly bearable with him around, but now he was gone. Now, Two-Face was alone, left to a silent void. He used to hate that voice constantly in his head. He hated having to listen to the man bicker on and on about how he was doing wrong. That he should stop. It used to piss him off badly. Used to grind his gears and give him headaches. Now he wished to hear even the slightest noise from him. Even a sigh would work, but he did not even get that.
Instead, he was left to listen to Nygma’s stupid voice give riddle after riddle and Joker's stupid laugh ring from one ear to the other. Maybe he was going mad? Maybe he really did deserve this hell. Hell! He was hoping to hear voices in his head again?! How much madder could one get?
“You say another word, and the next time I get a gun. I swear to fuck, Nygma, I won’t even have to flip my coin!” He finally barked when he heard the other start-up on another dumb and useless riddler. Growling more when that made the clown on the other side start to laugh like a stupid hyena.
“There’s the Two-Face I love!! The one with Bark! Been so quiet over there, I thought you died as well.” Joker laughed like a maniac. “Thought the rats finally got to ya. Started to eat at your flesh and make you rot.” He laughed more.
It had Two-Face growling. Sure it got Nygma to be quiet, but now he had the worse of the two to listen to. Oh, when he gets his hands on that clown. The things he wanted to do. Tie him to a rope and drag his stupid laughing ass into some acid. Make sure the other could not come back from like before. The images he started to get in his head were brutal. He almost loved them if it was not for the fact that the voice was not there to tell him to stop and call him crazy. That voice. That stupid fucking voice!
“Speaking of you, where is that other half at? What’s his name? Hank? No… Terry?” The clown hummed and chuckled while he swayed back and forth in his straight jacket. He was not allowed to be without it unless he was eating due to the harm he put himself and others around. The asylum just felt it best he stayed in one. “Whatever his name was. Definitely the prettier one of you both. I liked him. He scared nicely. A bi-”
“Shut it, Clown!” Two-Face barked in a growl. He needed to get out of here. He was not sure how much longer he could last. This place did not heal you. No, this place made you more mad. More crazy and fucked than you were before you entered its doors.
He was not sure what he would do when he was out. Where he would go. If he committed any crime he would just be right back here in a few days. A week if he was lucky. It was not just that though. He was not even sure if he wanted to cause trouble. He hated to admit it, but the times he had Harvey in his mind bickering at him, made things more fun. Now that he was gone, he was not sure what to do. It pissed him off almost.
“Fuck, you Harvey.” He growled even as he looked at himself in the broken mirror made of plastic in his cell. Looking right at the unscared side of his face. “You did this to me. Why did you have to go and fuck it all up.” He growled, hating when his eyes drifted down to that stupid bruise that wrapped around his neck. That stupid bruise that even after months still looked fresh on his skin. “Why did you have to go and leave?” He groaned, laying himself down in his bed as he tried his best to sleep past all the screaming and rats. And as he slept he did his best to think of a way out of this hell and where the fuck he would even go when he did. What he would do with himself.
—-
When TwoFace finally did make his great escape, it was during a thunderstorm. A fairly bad one, but common for Gotham. A perfect time to make an escape with the intense pour of rain coming down and blocking anyone’s view from the camera to really see correctly. He had made it out and all the way to the outskirts of Wayne Manor before he finally came to some reality of what he was doing. He treaded for miles in a downpour. During which his feet decided to take him here? A part of him knew why though. He knew Harvey’s past with Bruce Wayne. Maybe he could...Could he get the man to come back out? Wake him up from whatever coma the other decided to put himself through.
Harvey could not be dead. There was no way that killed him. He was here. If he was here then Harvey had to be. He was not dead! It made no sense for him to not be here! He needed Bruce. Bruce could get Harvey to wake up. They had a past. That was why he brought himself here. With a huff he made himself over the fence, able to see through the storm that all the lights were off, but one. Maybe it was Bruce’s bedroom? He was not sure. He never paid much attention in the past when the two did speak. Never cared too.
All he knew was that it was the second floor and most likely where the billionaire was at the moment. So with some time, he found an unlocked window. It was too dark to see anything but very brief outlines of furniture. Seemed like an office of sorts. Now he just needed to dry himself, because at the second he was drenched. He would rather not intrude anymore by getting the man’s expensive floors soaked. He was already at risk for being out here. Who knew if Arkham was aware he escaped yet or worse the Bat.
He was waiting for lightning to strike before he made any move. Help him get a better idea of where he was so he could find a light switch or at least something to help dry off.
However, when the lightning finally came and he looked around, the last thing he expected to ever lay eyes on was the Bat. Standing on the opposite side of the room, by the desk, stood the Bat. Those white-out lenses stuck out the most and stared right at his soul. He felt himself panic instantly. Why the fuck was the Bat here?! How did he find out?! Not a single soul knew he was coming here!
His panic only grew more when he heard that cape move around. Fuck! He was at the biggest disadvantage right now. That fucker had night vision! The other probably saw him the second he came in and wanted to be dramatic. He wanted to wait till he saw him before doing anything. That was how the Bat worked. He liked the dramatics.
“This isn’t what it looks like!” He shrieked a little when he saw the Bat draw closer to him when lightning struck again and lit the room. He was fast to grab a lamp and throw it at him. He felt bad but he had nothing else but his coin and the spilt colored scrubs on his body. What else was one meant to do when they had the terrifying Batman chasing after them?
What did he do? He ran like hell. Where? Not sure. He did not know where the door was and he closed the window to keep rain from getting in. Fiddling with a window latch was only going to get him caught faster. So he decided the next, best approach, was to run around like an idiot and throw shit from time to time.
“What is it then, Two-Face? Because to me it looks like you were breaking and entering.” The Bat’s voice came from the darkness and Two-Face hated that he could not pin-point it.
“N-No, well… Y-yess, but no!” He shouted back, happy for another strike of lightning until he noticed the man was very much catching up to him. Easily jumping over the knocked-over coffee table even to get to him. He was also terrified because he knew well they had to be making a ruckus. Especially when he tripped over a side table and heard the noise of something, very likely expensive, shattering. There was no way the residents did not know they were here at this point. Even over the storm, it had to be heard.
He was right too, because the next lightning strike was not one at all, but the lights being turned on. Instantly he froze and he noticed the Bat did too. Both of their eyes instantly moved to the door where a butler stood. From what his memory could pick up, his name was Alfred. All the man did was look at them both and then the room. It was almost more terrifying than the Bat how calm this man was being with Two-Face and Batman in his office.
The man did not even say a word, just let out what sounded like a disappointed sigh before he turned the light off once more and closed the door. Leaving Two-Face once again in the darkness and alone to face the Bat. He did not have the time to get up though, feeling something hit him in the head before he was out like a light.
—--
Bruce sighed the moment it was over, moving back over to the door as he turned on the light and looked over at the man on the ground. His words stuck in his head some, but he knew this was not the time to ponder them. He needed to get Two-Face back to Arkham before he woke up. Having already sent a signal Gordon’s way to come to the manor.
When Jim did arrive Bruce had the other load him up, glancing the man’s way before back at the Commissioner when he approached him. “Wayne doing okay? Sure he was shocked to find out Two-Face was trying to break in.” The Commissioner spoke.
Bruce merely just hummed and nodded. “I was told the Butler is handling him. He’s fine. No one had gotten hurt. Just some furniture. I luckily spotted Two-Face earlier in the rain and followed him to see what his plans were. I stopped him before he could get out of the office.” He lied to the man. He had not a single clue of the other coming this way. Nor did he even know he was there till that lightning strike hit and they both made eye contact. Why did the other come here? He was still unsure and he could not help but ponder the man’s words, ‘It’s not what it looks like.' Nor why he even came here in the first place. So much was going through his head at the moment.
“Well, it’s a good thing you were around. Who knows what he could have done. I get they have a past, but I know things did not end well for them both.” He sighed as he glanced at the man in the back of his cruiser before the man in black, sighing when he was gone when he did. He did not dwell on it. It was their song and dance at this point. He would speak and look away. When he looked back, the other was always gone.
—-
When Two-Face finally woke, he felt his heart instantly sink when he heard those all too familiar voices from each side of his walls and that stupid pipe leak. No! He could not be. He just got out!! That fucking Bat!! That stupid fucking Bat!!
He growled instantly as he sat up, grabbing his lame excuse for a pillow as he threw it hard at the door. “FUCK!” He shouted in a fit of rage and pain. He could not be back here. This was not happening. He just needed to see Bruce. Bruce could fix this. He had to fix this. Why was the Bat there? Why did he have to always get in the way? Why did Harvey have to do what he did? Why did he have to leave him all alone?
He wanted to cry. He hated crying. That was a Harvey thing. It hurt to cry. Hurt his heart. His mind. His eye. It hurt so much. TwoFace did not cry. He could not cry and yet he was. As he looked in that stupid broken mirror all he could see was tears coming from his good eye while the other struggled but still let them fall. It hurt. It hurt so much. It was even getting a bit hard to breathe. A slight asthma attack? Who knows. He could care less to get a nurse’s attention. He did not want them near him.
All he could do was whine as he hugged himself. Listening to the sound of the Joker laughing. Laughing at him. He knew he was and it pissed him off. Yet he was in too much pain to care to bark at him about it. All he could do was sit there and cry.
He wanted out of here. He wanted to be anywhere but here, but it was all he was destined for. Escaping so soon after a failed attempt was useless. Impossible. He knew it would not be long till they came in here and pumped him full of drugs. Made his mind go blank to the point he could not even know right from left or up from down. Where he could not feel any emotion and honestly he was wanting that right now. He just wanted to be blank.
A part of him almost wished he had not stopped Harvey back then. He actually started to understand that fucker. Understand why he did it and he just had to come along and ruin it. That was what he did best after all. The one time he did something half decent and he still ends up fucking himself over in the end due to it. Their father was right. Right about it all. He was useless.
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(Art by Hannrum, more details in starting note)