Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“He was a ten year old boy! He was a little kid! His parents were taken from him! By this, monster!”

“I always knew I could count on you, Bruce.” 

Bruce holds back a grimace, burying the memory of his friend, as he undoes his tie. He’s happy to see Harvey flipping through the channels. He was always glued to the television when they were kids so it’s good to know he’s returning to that familiar habit. 

“Whatever you need, I'll make sure you get it. All you need to do is ask,” Bruce says nonchalantly. He’s hungry- “but first, your scars.” 

Harvey's bathroom is small, fitted with just enough for two people to do their business in a tight fit. Harvey sits on the toilet and seems unable to move as Bruce brings the towel and some clothes that will let Harvey's skin breathe. Bruce worries Harvey might be dissociating again when their eyes happen to meet in the middle distance. Harvey smiles reflexively, avoiding catching sight of the bathroom mirror. “Mind helping me? I don't… ” 

Harvey trails off. Bruce knows what he's too proud to ask. So Bruce kneels in front of him and undoes the mask. A bulging eye surrounded by a grimace meets him. Harvey turns his head the other way on reflex. 

The tub might be big enough for two, Bruce thinks, as he gently pours warm water on Harvey's scarred arm and shoulder. Harvey only accepted the bare minimum in terms of grafts. No transplants, barely any reconstruction. Bruce felt the impulse to argue with him once. Even then, he knew it would only make it worse. 

The water is warm and the smell of generic shampoo and soap always bring relief for Bruce. It reminds him of a Harvey that has left his father’s house, if only for a while. Bruce reminds himself Harvey is right here right now, holding one of Bruce's hands for emotional support as he blankly stares at the bathroom tiles. Bruce needs him.

Conversation could ease Harvey's discomfort, but both Harvey and Bruce know that there isn't much to address that hasn't been addressed and they aren't ready to talk about that episode in their lives. The time Bruce failed and Harvey fell. 

Once Bruce has dried Harvey off and Harvey has popped the mask back on, Bruce moves into Harvey’s kitchen to heat up some leftover pizza. They don't have the presence of mind for more elaborate cooking right now. 

Harvey has been doing better. He is more conscious than confused lately.

The only person Harvey will talk about his issues with is Leslie which, Bruce is glad it's someone, and for that someone to be her. Leslie knows him. Bruce knows him. 

Harvey makes his way to the unfolded sofa he has been using as a second bed. Bruce assumes Gilda leaving him was too much to bear (Batman must investigate the matter further later).

It reminds Bruce of a nest, always messy but cozy. Harvey has opted for an oversized shirt and sweatpants and a hoodie he can hide in if he feels like it. He didn’t have any therapy to attend to today. It’s been… Six months? Since the incident and Bruce is happy to report Harvey is making slow but steady progress.  

Their situation isn’t…ideal. Harvey refuses to talk about the other guy to Bruce. If he remembers that fateful night well by now, Harvey doesn’t acknowledge it and more importantly, every time the news mention Harvey stepping down or the incident, even in passing, Harvey will change the channel.

Bruce will give him whatever he needs. 

D-I-D. Dissociative identity disorder. Bruce has been obsessing over it since Leslie told him that's what it was. He’s read every research paper and book there is out there about the disorder. Bruce doesn't want to hurt Harvey more than his father has. But–

“You okay, Bruce?”

Bruce blinks his thoughts away. “Yeah, tough day at Wayne enterprises.”

Dick and Barbara have taken up patrol for when Bruce has to stay with Harvey, now that he's fit to live on his own after six months under Leslie’s supervision.

Harvey hums. The sound transports Bruce back to old times when everything was, not necessarily okay, but good enough. When Bruce and Harvey had so much to look forward to and not enough to want to tear their hair out and wish they had never been born.

Harvey huddles to the side and moves his pile of blankets. He pats the spot the tv blares with some comedy show. “C’mere.”

Bruce suddenly aches for the past. Some kind of past where Bruce hadn’t miscalculated so badly to watch people die without being able to do anything. When he hadn’t changed Harvey’s life for the worst and brought on the killing blow that broke Harvey’s injured mind.

No. Bruce mustn't think this way. Harvey is right there. DID is treatable and what matters is that Harvey is alive. Even if… Even if Bruce is only human, he must not fuck up again.

So Bruce joins him by throwing himself on top of the covers, making him bounce. Harvey howls with laughter. “Ow, you asshole. You are too heavy.”

“Should've thought about that before inviting me,” Bruce says, burying his face on one of Harvey’s many pillows. It smells like ointment and Harvey’s detergent. Harvey says it’s generic. To Bruce it means Harvey. 

Harvey chuckles as his hands roam affectionately on the expanse of Bruce's back before he rests his head comfortably against one of Bruce's shoulders. Bruce doesn't want to move. 

Their current arrangement is that Bruce stays over every other day to make sure Harvey doesn’t devolve into despair or dissociation. Bruce jokingly called it a sleepover before Harvey was holding back sobs as he thanked Bruce over and over again. It seems to work so far, even if Harvey… doesn’t resemble his former self. 

Bruce is more than aware. Bruce knows Harvey’s body movements too well. Harvey has gone from having all this gentle, nervous energy propelling him forward to a spacy nebulous cloud pushing him to move with imprecision. Bruce isn’t sure if it can ever go back to what it was. Not that he thinks Harvey should, or like he has given up, but–

“Bruce.” 

The bed rumbles with Harvey's warm voice. Bruce doesn't think he's ever seen Harvey speak in public live, at his best, shining under the spotlight. The public likes him and Bruce is sure they see that sincerity and loyalty in Harvey as well as Bruce does. Bruce wishes he had seen him once. Bruce wishes he had spent more time with Harvey so he knew he was there. That he isn't a burden. 

Bruce doesn’t unbury himself from the old and stiff but warm makeshift bed. Like this, he can childishly pretend everything is how it used to be before his mistake. Before he destroyed Harvey’s life. Before he got a man killed. Before he realized Batman wasn't who and what he thought he was.

“Are you…” Harvey’s voice is quiet, tentative. “Are you crying?”

Is Bruce? When was the last time Bruce cried? Bruce doesn’t remember and the thought doesn’t scare him. 

Before he knows it, Harvey's head leaves his shoulder and his hands nudge Bruce's side into turning around. As Bruce obeys the gentle command, Harvey’s half covered up face stares at him, a sharp reminder of the witness stand. Bruce should've let Crane kill Matches. Had Bruce knows what would've happened–

Bruce must be making a face because it makes Harvey turn his head so the extra bandaging and bulging eye under the mask remain hidden from Bruce’s gaze. 

Bruce wants to take it back. Wants to reassure Harvey there’s nothing wrong with him. That he has survived so much and this has no bearing on his worth as a person. 

Harvey doesn’t let him speak as he cups Bruce’s jaw in his hands. One is rougher than the other. “It’s okay,” Harvey says quietly, reminding Bruce of when they were kids. Late nights of burying themselves under the covers after violent nightmares. Harvey was always the sensitive one even if the kids at Harvey's school hated him for it. “You are doing great.”

Bruce wants to ask what he’s talking about, when the features on Harvey’s unscarred side harden. He stares at Bruce in a calculating way, mocking the vulnerability they had just shared at each other. 

A growl. “I remember what you did,” the voice Bruce recognizes as the other guy hisses. Harvey’s hands, despite remaining still, don’t feel as comforting anymore. “But he doesn't want to. He keeps refusing my help.”

Bruce realizes the other guy is trying to communicate something to him. He supposes it wouldn’t hurt to hear him out. “What’s your name? What do you want?”

The other guy chuckles. “I ain’t Harvey,” the way his face contorts differently from Harvey as he laughs. It could be a trick of the light, or shadows, but his bulging eye seems to examine Bruce closer than the intact one. “Call me… Two Face.”

Two Face?

“You worry too much for college boy. Don’t worry, he would never hate you.”

“But you do. ” 

Two Face chuckles, a rough cold sound like a snake in a metal box emerges from Harvey’s vocal chords. “Let’s get one thing straight, Wayne. I am staying in his head, have been forever and there is nothing you can do about it. Sorry to crash your little sleepover for once.”

Bruce needs Two Face to keep talking. Bruce needs a file on him. He’s there for a reason. Maybe he can talk to Leslie and help her treat harvey. She won't refuse that. Maybe Bruce can get Leslie’s notes. Maybe he can help her cure harvey. Maybe– “That’s to be expected with DID”

“And-” Two Face sing songs, intact mouth smug, a loud sigh of satisfaction. The hot breath falls on Bruce's mouth. “Your Harvey isn't who you think he is. Father was right about us.”

Bruce narrows his eyes. He doesn't think it's in Two Face’s best interest to tell him the truth. Bruce knows now Harvey is capable of great self sabotage. This isn't any different. 

“You made him violent.” 

Two Face turns reverent, gazing tenderly at Bruce. “You share our pain,” Two Face says, choked up all of a sudden. “It's no wonder Harvey clings to you like a stray dog begging for its master to take him home.” 

Bruce scowls. “How do you–?” 

Two face smirks, how can Harvey's teeth look sharper from this angle? “He longs for that confession you know? After his wife left him. You are all he has left. The only thing he hasn't sabotaged just yet. ”

Bruce remembers Leslie saying something about lashing out being a sign of unmet needs. The urge to break something to feel it's loss. 

“That was your fault,” Bruce says.

Two Face shakes his head. “You tell yourself that. I'll still consider you a coward. Everyone leaves unless you're tough enough,” he gets so close the tip of his nose brushes Bruce's, “to convince me.” 

Bruce remembers the smell of Harvey's skin dissolving under the acid, his loud desperate screaming to get back at the man that attacked him. It's a disgustingly familiar tone of voice. Then, something seems to snap inside Harvey, pulling the aggression back. His eyes dart rapidly from place to place. He lets go of Bruce's face and steps back. Bruce, despite not being all that familiar with touch misses it dearly. “Bruce. T-Time. What time–?” 

“It's okay,” Bruce looks at his watch. “It’s friday,” Bruce says, centering himself too. “Around 6:34 pm. You were gone for about…” ‘He longs for that confession, you know?’ How would Two Face know that? “Five minutes or so. ” 

Harvey sits on his haunches. “...Around 6:34? Is that correct?”

Bruce snorts. Harvey is still sharp. “It’s 6:34 exactly.”

“So which is it?” Harvey snorts. His blue eyes seem to focus as he meets Bruce’s eyes. “Words mean things, y’know?”

Bruce hums. “I know. It’s 6:34, you pedantic asshole. That what you wanted to hear?”

Harvey smiles. “I can recall some things,” he says. “But… he spoke right? What did he say?” he asks meekly. 

Bruce makes a face. “Nothing good.” 

Harvey hums. His eyes seem to get lost on Bruce as he thinks. Despite the distance Bruce can feel the ghost of his hands on his face. 

Harvey hums. “We communicate sometimes, you know, internally. Leslie says that's a good sign our dis– dissociative barriers are down and we can work together.” Harvey says. He moves to lay down where he was and spreads himself on the bed like a lazy cat. His scarred hand falls on Bruce's chest, which Bruce takes in his two hands and cradles close. 

The shirt rides up revealing Harvey's stomach. Bruce forces himself to look away as Harvey closes his eyes. It's no use mourning Harvey's touch, much less ask for it. Bruce accepted Harvey was married all those years ago so why– why did Two Face's words make him think these things? 

Harvey hasn't seemed anxious about returning as a district attorney. He doesn't seem all that anxious about his career ending which is what Bruce would expect to–

Harvey grins. “Leslie has helped me understand, and communicate with him. He prefers ‘Harv’ and… I guess he's on my side whether I like it or not.” Harvey digs into one of his hoodie pockets and pulls out his dad's coin. “All because of this coin. We flip it and it helps us come to an agreement. We make a decision and don't argue then. Isn't that cool?”  

Does Harvey know what kind of decisions he made during the Rat King incident? Harvey isn't naïve. Not anymore. Maybe it's for the best Bruce isn't involved. Maybe it's for the best that he remains batman. Who knows how bad it could've gotten, if Batman went all the way that night. If Bruce hadn't shown up for Harvey. If he had let Harvey go that far. 

Harvey seems to catch the storm in Bruce's head. Dammit. Bruce is supposed to be Harvey's caretaker, not the other way around. 

“What is it?” 

Is Bruce… afraid Harvey is changing? Feels as if Harvey is taken away? 

It makes Bruce recall Leslie words. One time, they had been talking about career prospects and all Bruce's had in mind then had been violence and revenge. Harvey revealed he wanted to go to law school. Far away from Bruce and Gotham. Bruce couldn't stand the thought of Harvey and him going their separate ways.

It made Bruce sick to his stomach. He lashed out, like he used to do, and Leslie guided Bruce to apologize, one of many times. 

Bruce is better than this. He is happy Harvey wants better for himself. That he's found some kind of compromise with Harv. But there's no use lying to his friend. Not when Harvey knows Bruce's body language and movement too well. 

Bruce can't meet his eyes. “Don't take this too seriously but… I think I'm feeling shut out ”

Harvey pauses and observes Bruce quietly. The sound of the TV being the only noise in the room. 

“You are not being left behind,” Harvey says gently. “It's… An adjustment and I get you– you are scared. Of me. I get it. I would be scared, too. I'm a… I'm grotesque.”

“Harvey.”

“Seriously no wonder Gilda– or my dad–” 

Bruce grabs Harvey by the shoulders. Harvey is bulking up again, now that Bruce is there to make sure he eats his meals. “No,” Bruce says sternly. “Don't blame yourself for that. He's the monster not you.”

Harvey sighs and his hands sneak past Bruce's arms to cup Bruce's face, expression pained. He looks down. “But I am sick, Bruce.”  

Bruce doesn't think about it and maybe he should've. But he didn't, and he ends up pushing against Harvey, literally and metaphorically. He treads uncharted territory by tasting Harvey, letting his senses map Harvey's valleys and mountains, both Harvey's intact and marred skin. Bruce doesn't care about the bandages or the mask, he doesn't care about the other person living in his head. All he wants is Harvey happy and healthy no matter what. He wants Harvey to feel loved. He wants to expunge those horrible things he thinks about himself constantly… If only Bruce could shoulder the burden. 

After all, the acid was directed at Bruce, not at Harvey. 

Harvey’s lips are soft as he presses back and Harvey sobs at the contact before he's actively pulling Bruce closer. Bruce gasps, wishing the mask wasn't in the way. He needs Harvey. 

Harvey is the one that pulls away. He touches Bruce's lip with his rough and scarred hand. Bruce pushes forward again, nuzzling Harvey's nose. Harvey is so warm and alive. “I'm sorry.” Bruce whispers

Harvey chuckles, so close and so alive. “I should be the one saying sorry. You are kissing a–” 

“Don't you dare say that, Dent,” Bruce says, kissing his forehead. “I won't let you.”  

Harvey melts at the forehead kiss. He glances at Bruce and stares for what feels like eternity, almost making Bruce think he's zoning out again, before he says, “You've wanted to do this for a long time.”

Bruce looks down. “This is the last thing you need while recovering.” 

“Actually,” Harvey says. He leans forward and presses his forehead to Bruce's chest. Bruce wraps his arms around Harvey. “Maybe it's just what we needed.”   

Bruce holds Harvey the rest of the night, once their pizza is inside their stomachs and Harvey has shifted into a comfy position with his unscarred side on Bruce's chest and the scarred one facing the ceiling. Harvey's strong arms around Bruce's waist. 

It makes Bruce think he and Harvey are in the same boat. That they don't want to let go. That they both want this. But Bruce doesn't dare ask about or mention... This thing blossoming between them. He fears he'll make a mistake again and ruin it, hurt Harvey with his incompetence. 

It had been hard, going back to being batman. Making adjustments was the first thing he did so nothing like that night would happen again. He needs to keep a cool head, form alliances, ask for help. Then… 

Harvey unburies himself from the covers around Bruce's bare ribs and smiles at him. It's sharp because it's dark and it's late. At least that's what Bruce tells himself. 

“I have… So many plans for the future,“ Harvey says in a sleepy tone. His finger traces one of Bruce's ribs absently. “My memories are coming back.”

Bruce hopes Harvey can't hear his heart jump or his stomach drop in dread. “Do those plans include me?” Bruce asks, eyes closing and brain shutting down from exhaustion. 

The bat and the rat, both outcasts, too small to make a difference

“I love you,” Harvey whispers. Bruce can't see him anymore. “I'll always include you in mine.” 

Chapter Text

Harvey isn't entirely sure what to do anymore. 

He throws his keys on the table and leaves his jacket on the rack by the door. His limbs ache from exhaustion and his mind is running in barbed circles, just aching for negativity to latch on and make it worse. Harvey is aware of it. And Harv, or two face, isn't the culprit. 

Bruce is passed out over Harvey's covers, keeping them toasty. Finding him like this, when Harvey was not trying to sneak by, is a little bizarre considering how light both Harvey and Bruce's sleep tends to be, but maybe, just maybe, Bruce kept waking up throughout the night. 

There's another possibility, however. 

Harvey changes into something more comfortable, deciding that if he's going to rejoin Bruce in sleep’s embrace he might as well do it in its appropriate form. 

Harvey asked Leslie a couple questions. He isn't sure if he's asked them before, after all, who's to say Bruce and Leslie haven't kept more crucial information from him than he knows? Harvey makes space for himself on his pre-appointment bed-spot, careful not to fall on top of Bruce or jostling too much in case he's actually asleep. 

Bruce is batman. 

But Leslie didn't tell Harvey that. Harv is clueless, he doesn't know Bruce enough to figure it out. 

It dawned on Harvey today. As he managed to recall mid-session, bits and pieces of the rat king incident left him feeling hollow, he remembers the betrayal, the pain he was in, the confusion. 

Then he remembered a flash. Bruce looming by Harvey's bed in Lelsies office, talking on the phone while he didn't think Harvey would listen. 

“-tell Gordon I'll be there” 

The voice rumbled in a familiar way. But Harvey was too afraid then, afraid Bruce would leave him. 

Bruce stirs, shifting to his side so he's facing Harvey. He sighs and opens an eye. “Harvey…” he says, before closing them again, holding back a yawn.

It leaves a warm pool of love in Harvey's stomach, he almost forgets he can't sleep on his left side anymore. Harvey fusses about Bruce's sleeping schedule, thinking Bruce would at least try to nap during the day. It seems Harvey is getting through him. Harvey then grabs the covers and spreads them evenly over both their bodies. 

Then, Harvey slides closer until their foreheads touch. Bruce hums, pressing against Harvey's half scarred face. It's then that Harvey takes off his mask and leaves it on the side for comfort. 

Harvey told Leslie about them. About Bruce. About how Harvey feels like he can't have relationships anymore. About the Dreams and the nightmares and the fact he wants to burn them all down. The fact his love for Bruce is so intense he isn't sure if he lied to Bruce about wanting this relationship or not. 

He misses Gilda. He misses her a lot. It's not fair to her or Bruce if he's unsure, right? 

The bandages are supposed to come off today. 

Leslie seemed wary the entire session, like she didn't think Bruce and Harvey being together was a good idea. Like Harvey was right in thinking he would mess it all up. He'd self sabotage. 

But Leslie doesn't care about Harvey anymore, does she? After all this time, those murderers on the loose, Malone and Chill, received more understanding than Harvey from her, right? What if she knew about what Harvey did to get his convictions in court? What if she suspected Crane to be a bad man And judged Harvey for needing him? What if she kept it all to herself to see Harvey punished? 

Harvey squeezes his eyes shut. No, no, no. She cares for him. Harvey is flying off the handle again. 

As if perceiving Harvey's distress, Bruce reaches for Harvey. He opens his eyes a tad to make sure Harvey doesn't hurt and Harvey watches him, pet Harvey's bandaged jaw and upon seeing Harvey still relaxed, Bruce smiles and cups Harvey's scarred cheek. 

“Tough day at work?” Harvey asks. 

Bruce hums. “We have potpie for lunch,” he whispers, “and yeah. My back is killing me.”

Bruce is batman, Harvey reminds himself. 

“You made potpie?” Harvey asks, nearly impressed. His hands ruminate towards Bruce's full midriff. Bruce sighs at the touch. 

Bruce shakes his head lazily. “Gilda showed up almost as soon as you left. She gave me it, we chatted and she left.” 

“Gilda” Harvey chokes. “is she fine? Is she okay? Is she–?” Harvey cuts himself off. Desperation doesn't look good on him. 

Bruce nods languidly though his hand falls on Harveys shoulder. “she was relieved to see me. She said she couldn't stay for long but she's happy for you”

Happy. Better off. Away from the disaster waiting to happen.

Why didn't she call? Harvey has–

“Woah, Harvey,” Bruce squeezes Harvey's shoulder. “deep breaths okay?” Harvey's mind goes back to Leslie telling him to breathe today. Bruce inhales and exhales loudly, encouraging Harvey to do the same. 

Fuck. Harvey isn't anxious. And it's always been like this with Harvey and his big emotions. Down to crying inappropriately. What the hell is he supposed to say? What is he supposed to do? She left a long time ago. If she cared for him, why did she leave? 

Harveys rational brain knows shit happens. He's aware of it, Leslie has explained it to him so many times. She helped him through the dating stage with Gilda. And now… 

Harvey remembers avoiding the painful memories of crying spells and random fits of rage throughout his crushes. He reigned himself in a lot, which wasn't hard around Gilda to the point Harvey forgot how awful he had felt. How awful he really was. 

And yet if only Harvey hadn't taken Crane's words at face value. If only Harvey hadn't assumed the world needed some wrangling to walk the right path, the path of light and correctness. Now he needs the coin to trust his own shadow. 

No, Harvey's crusade had been the issue. He wasn't enough. Gilda didn't deserve that. 

“You wanna… Talk?” Bruce asks. 

Harvey shakes his head. It must be because Harvey can be easily manipulated, taken advantage of. He's too much. It's why Bruce watches him like a hawk. Why Leslie treats him like a child. Too much, even now. 

They keep things from him, only telling Harvey when it suits them

No… But it's not true. It's for the best. Harvey is freaking out right now. 

Ask. Ask.  

Harvey understands now. Harvey is pretty sure that if it were anyone else without as much rapport behind them as the city's damn DA, Harvey would be in jail. 

“Bruce”

“what?” Bruce asks innocently, blue eyes full of concern. His thumbs tub the back of Harvey's palms. 

Harvey inhales sharply. “am I a bad person?”

Bruce blinks in surprise and snorts. “wow. Uh, if you're a bad person then we all deserve to go to hell”

It's not funny. Not funny at all. 

Harvey snarls. This isnt the time “don't lie to me” he whines, dangerously low. 

Bruce sober up. “okay. What are you worried about. is this about gilda?” 

Should he tell Bruce he knows he's batman? Should he accuse him of lying to him with Leslie? Should Harvey ignore the issue cause it's stupid anyway? 

Why does Harvey want this? This conflict is useless. If Bruce is batman and Harvey did something terrible there's nothing to be angry about. If anything Harvey deserves his suffering. 

Harvey just wants to be good. And yet you can't do it. 

Harvey swallows. “what do you and Harv talk about?” 

Bruce's reaction is as if Harvey hadn't spoken at all. Then Bruce tilts his head to think. “not much–” 

“I mean–” Harvey interrupts. “He says he knows things I don't. I uh… if he told you something important, you would…tell me, wouldn’t you?”

Bruce stiffens at the idea. Harvey knows Bruce enough to tell. All he has to do is tell the truth. Say something Harvey doesn't know. It's easy. Harvey should be able to trust him right? Right? 

Ask him what he knows. I'll tell you who he really is . 

Bruce hasn't said a word. Harvey wonders how much of this is an act. Playboy, fun loving Bruce Wayne trying to get his best friend and now boyfriend to believe Harvey is innocent. 

But no one is. 

No one is guilty either. 

He hates how his words get lower and slow. How reassuring Harvs embrace is. “... Tell me” he hisses. 

Bruce blinks, concerned. 

Harvey hasn't blacked out. They're on the same boat here. Together agaisnt Bruce Wayne, together against batman. 

Bruce licks his lips. “how much do you remember from that night?” 

Harvey wonders if Bruce meant to lie. Or if he chose to keep the truth away from him until the moment presented itself. Harvey believes Bruce and batman are good but–

They still lie. 

There's two ways to do this. Harvey can be good, and confess to what he did, thereby waiving his desire to keep this mockery of normalcy up and serve the sentence he deserves. Or, he can be bad and ask outright Bruce why he didn't say. Why he's lying to Harvey. These options don't matter. 

Ultimately Bruce will have to be truthful about Harvey. No more lies. Bruce will either stick with him or won't. 

Harvey pulls out the coin, making Bruce frown and flips it on the kitchen counter. 

Tails. 

“Harvey” Bruce says, eyes wide and betrayed. 

Everything Harvey touches he destroys. 

“Why have you kept that night from me?” Harvey asks, lip trembling. “Why do you lie to me?” 

“Harvey” 

“You stole from me” Harvey whimpers. “You lied to me.” 

Bruce has grabbed Harvey by the shoulders, expression soft. “it was to keep you safe” 

Harvey laughs. He laughs and laughs at the absurdity. At how nearly everything he set himself out to do backfired spectacularly. His career, his marriage, his relationships, his appearance. Everything, since birth. He got a really bad hand dealt. He bet against the odds. 

And he lost. 

Harvey let's out a sob. Then another, then another until his knees buckle and he's biting his unscarred hand to muffle how much eh wants to scream. Why does Bruce get to walk away unscathed while Harvey has to rebuilt himself from scratch? 

“I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry” he hears himself say. “you wanted to protect me. Batman is dangerous. Your life is more dangerous than mine. Just– just look at what Malone did to me. Look at what crane did to me. My dad–”

Bruce squats down to grab Harvey's hand. “none of that is your fault.”

“She left me because of this,” Harvey says. “you should, too” 

Bruce's brow knits. “no, Harvey,” he whispers. Big hands pull Harvey into Bruce's chest. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. ” 

Here Harvey is, having a breakdown when things are looking up. “you tried to save me,” Harvey says brokenly. “Harv. You. Leslie. But you couldn't. You couldn't” 

“It's not too late,” Bruce says. 

Harvey shakes his head. “I remember, what I did in that rooftop.” 

Bruce doesn't stop rubbing his back. 

“I was going to kill you” 

“I called you and you didn't respond. You had just left the hospital” 

Harvey shakes his head. 

“Were you? ” Bruce clears his throat. “You weren't coming back after that were you?”  

Harvey sobs as he nods. “It was worth it. You are worth it”. 

Bruce squeezes Harvey tight. “So are you.”

Bruce golds Harvey for minutes that feel like hours. Harvey's mind aches for rightful existence, for a discernible path. But Bruce can't give him that, nor Leslie, or Gilda. 

You're on your own, kid. 

“You are always worth it,” Bruce says. 

“It just won't stop hurting,” Harvey whines in the embrace. “It never will.”

Bruce grabs Harvey's hands. “Think you can make it through the next minute?”

Harvey knows where it's going. “For what?”

“Gilda’s salmon.” Bruce says. “I have no idea what your relationship with her is like but… Clearly, she wanted you to have this. She wants you to be happy and well-fed.”

Harvey blinks. “I… Sure”.