Post by Dick Grayson on May 15, 2020 22:24:16 GMT -5
Two-Face
His name was Bartholomew Kennedy Gaspard. It was a fancy name for a bailiff but that was always Bartholome... Barty's joke. His mother thought he'd grow up to do big things and, hey, there was still plenty of time for her to be right.
Harvey remembered the young man, barely an adult, greeting him before every trial with an extra cup of coffee and a smile. He was a guy who always knew the score to the previous night's Knights game and had a slightly inappropriate joke at the ready in case Harvey looked like he needed a laugh. He was a good kid. He'd been there the day Maroni threw the acid in his face that left him disfigured. Harvey remembered writhing in pain and one of the last things he saw before blacking out was Barty's concerned face. He had visited him in the hospital once. He snuck him a can of beer because he didn't think flowers were a gift that guys gave each other.
That was the last time he saw him. Frankly, he had almost forgotten the man entirely. Time does that sometimes. Someone you see every day can quickly become a stranger and it happens so slowly you don't even realize it. Harvey had a lot of those in his life. He'd had best friends, old college friends, girlfriends, mentors, family members, co-workers, bosses, neighbors, people he used to see in his favorite bar.... the list goes on and on. Two-Face did more than ruin his appearance and shatter his mind. He ruined everything that Harvey Dent is, was, and what he was going to be. He was an emergency break pulled in the middle of a race that left him damaged beyond repair. All of those lost relationships, all of those happy memories lost to time... so much time had passed that he began to doubt any of it had ever happened. Was he ever that person at all? Was Harvey Dent, the handsome District Attorney of Gotham City, real? Had he always been Two-Face? All of those familiar faces in his past... would they even remember who he was or just see the monster he had become? Ghosts is what those people were. Gilda... Time changes things and you either pick that up and move forward or you're stuck living with ghosts. Barty Gaspard was not the young bailiff who used to drink coffee and tell dirty jokes to Harvey Dent. He was a nosy police officer who was too dumb to call back-up before investigating suspicious lights at the harbor. Right now three of Harvey's men had guns pointed at Barty's head.
"You had to play the hero, Barty. You just couldn't leave well enough alone."
"Harvey? Is that really you?"
Time had been friendly to Barty. He had grown into his lanky arms and legs and his face filled out his sunken cheeks. He didn't have the same, carefree smirk on his face that he always had. Maybe he'd grown out of it with age? Maybe it was the three automatic pistols pointed straight at his head?
Harvey looked past the trickling blood on his forehead to the wedding ring on his hand. He had settled down. That's nice. Someone finally made an honest man out of ol' Barty. I bet the missus had her hands full with him. Why, he remembered Barty telling him a story of hitting on a card dealer at the Iceberg Lounge and almost getting caught by security while the two fooled around in a coat room. He still remembered the look on Barty's face when he told him how people who got caught sneaking around the Iceberg went missing. He and a detective by the name of Bullock laughed hard about that story for weeks. A smirk formed on the side of his face that hadn't been ruined.
"I've heard the stories, Harv... but I can't believe that's really you..."
Remember why we're here, Harvey.
"If you knew what was best for you, you'd shut your mouth."
Harvey's head jerked to left on impulse. That deep, dark gravely voice lurched it's way up from his stomach and the smirk vanished. The nostalgia was gone. The happy memories were gone. The man in front of him wasn't the lanky 21 year old kid who grew up in Bludhaven to find a good job as a court bailiff. Now he was just a cop. Two-Face killed cops. It came with the territory.
The job was simple. The Maroni Family were hosting a party on his yacht tomorrow and Two-Face wanted to see the damn thing sink to the bottom of the harbor for old time's sake. That is after the C4 his men were planting inside the interior paneling of the boat first. Men, women, children... whole generations of that fat bastard's family up in a blaze of glory in one swoop. No profit to be gained either... just good ol' fashioned revenge and spite. Two-Face had paid some girls to come distract Maroni's men to get them to leave the boat long enough to allow his crew of demolitions and pyrotechnic experts to do their thing. He didn't even need to be here. He just wanted to sit back and imagine every single member of the Maroni Family screaming in pain and agony as they went down in flames or drowned at the bottom of the harbor.
Barty was an accident. He shouldn't have been there. Harvey wanted to let him go... for old time's sake. Two-Face didn't see what the big deal was. Barty was a cop... and Two-Face killed cops. It came with the territory. Still, they shared a mind and a body. There was no way to appeal to Harvey's whining and nostalgia bombs. Two-Face sighed and reached into his breast pocket for his coin. He ran his fingers along the grooves on the edge of the coin and then into the deep, jagged impressions on the one side.
In another life, it had been a trick coin with heads on both sides. It was joke about his optimistic viewpoints on life and his uncanny string of good luck. They used to say that nothing bad could ever happen to Harvey Dent and if he flipped a coin 100 times it would always come up heads. Now it was a reminder. A reminder that life was cruel and ugly and unfair and it you ever hope to make it out alive you have to be equally cruel, ugly, and unfair. It felt good in his hands. He felt like a God. He alone decided what would and what wouldn't happen and like any God he loved to exercise his power. He glared at the cop.
The job was simple. The Maroni Family were hosting a party on his yacht tomorrow and Two-Face wanted to see the damn thing sink to the bottom of the harbor for old time's sake. That is after the C4 his men were planting inside the interior paneling of the boat first. Men, women, children... whole generations of that fat bastard's family up in a blaze of glory in one swoop. No profit to be gained either... just good ol' fashioned revenge and spite. Two-Face had paid some girls to come distract Maroni's men to get them to leave the boat long enough to allow his crew of demolitions and pyrotechnic experts to do their thing. He didn't even need to be here. He just wanted to sit back and imagine every single member of the Maroni Family screaming in pain and agony as they went down in flames or drowned at the bottom of the harbor.
Barty was an accident. He shouldn't have been there. Harvey wanted to let him go... for old time's sake. Two-Face didn't see what the big deal was. Barty was a cop... and Two-Face killed cops. It came with the territory. Still, they shared a mind and a body. There was no way to appeal to Harvey's whining and nostalgia bombs. Two-Face sighed and reached into his breast pocket for his coin. He ran his fingers along the grooves on the edge of the coin and then into the deep, jagged impressions on the one side.
In another life, it had been a trick coin with heads on both sides. It was joke about his optimistic viewpoints on life and his uncanny string of good luck. They used to say that nothing bad could ever happen to Harvey Dent and if he flipped a coin 100 times it would always come up heads. Now it was a reminder. A reminder that life was cruel and ugly and unfair and it you ever hope to make it out alive you have to be equally cruel, ugly, and unfair. It felt good in his hands. He felt like a God. He alone decided what would and what wouldn't happen and like any God he loved to exercise his power. He glared at the cop.
"I'm going to tell you what is going to happen here. I've got three men who'd love nothing more than to blow your head off and keep your badge as a momento. I could let them do it easily. I could do it right now. Just a snap of my fingers and everything you've ever known disappears into a red mist of blood and brain matter."
Harvey sighed and walked up to Barty. He cupped the man's cheek with a sad smile. God, had fate really been so cruel as to put a familiar face in this moment? Just as he was about to score another mark of revenge against an old enemy, an old friend had to show up and test his resolve. Or was it just to further punish him for the cruel twist of fate he had found himself in? It didn't matter.
"That's not fair though, is it? You were just doing your job, Barty. Just like I was doing mine... and what happened? I GOT RUINED FOR IT! I didn't do a single damn thing to deserve it but that didn't matter. It all comes down to fate. That's all that matters... if you live... if you die... if my three men shoot you right where you stand... it all comes down to fate. Scarred side up my boys shoot you. Scarred side down they don't. Isn't that fair, Barty?"
"Harvey... you don't have to do this. Please..."
He could see the fear in Barty's and felt something inside him ache. No. He did have to do this. This was the only way. If he let Barty walk away then the cops would know he was there and his revenge was ruined. If he killed Barty though, he'd be killing another part of his old life. It wasn't much but there was so little of it left. What would happen if he lost it all? Would Two-Face just be him? It was childish to think but the hope that maybe one day, somehow, he could wake up and everything would be better. His head began to hurt so he growled.
He could see the fear in Barty's and felt something inside him ache. No. He did have to do this. This was the only way. If he let Barty walk away then the cops would know he was there and his revenge was ruined. If he killed Barty though, he'd be killing another part of his old life. It wasn't much but there was so little of it left. What would happen if he lost it all? Would Two-Face just be him? It was childish to think but the hope that maybe one day, somehow, he could wake up and everything would be better. His head began to hurt so he growled.
Flip of the coin....
Harvey caught the coin and looked into the palm of his hand.
Harvey caught the coin and looked into the palm of his hand.
"Let him go."
His men hadn't lowered their weapons. This was a newer crew. His regulars knew him well enough to know that when the coin told them to do something then the better damn well do it. Barty didn't look relieved. Whether it was the guns still trained on his head or the fact that he still wasn't sure why his old friend was doing this to him. Harvey didn't know and frankly it wasn't his business. The coin decided that Two-Face's crew wouldn't kill him. One of the newer boys looked at Harvey, his face wrinkled with confusion.
"Boss, you sure about that? I mean, he's a cop..."
"Boss, you sure about that? I mean, he's a cop..."
"I SAID LET HIM GO!"
The man lowered his gun immediately and the other two followed suit quickly. He would have to train them just like he trained the others. Typically this meant flipping his coin to decide whether or not they'd be killed in front of the others as a lesson learned. Regardless, they weren't going to be shooting Barty tonight.
Barty looked around, terrified and not sure of what he should do. Harvey recognized the look because he had seen it himself a few times in the past. He wanted to do the right thing. He wanted to stop Harvey and his crew from doing whatever it was they were doing by the docks but he was powerless to do so. Instead, Barty did the sensible thing. He turned and limped away from Harvey and the yacht. He'd go home to his house and his wife, go back to the normal life he had built for himself and start making serious life changes for himself. Two-Face grimaced and pulled his magnum from his shoulder holster before pointing it at the back of Barty's head.
Barty looked around, terrified and not sure of what he should do. Harvey recognized the look because he had seen it himself a few times in the past. He wanted to do the right thing. He wanted to stop Harvey and his crew from doing whatever it was they were doing by the docks but he was powerless to do so. Instead, Barty did the sensible thing. He turned and limped away from Harvey and the yacht. He'd go home to his house and his wife, go back to the normal life he had built for himself and start making serious life changes for himself. Two-Face grimaced and pulled his magnum from his shoulder holster before pointing it at the back of Barty's head.
"Hey, Barty. First flip was to see if they shoot you. Second flip decides if I do."
Fair is fair. Harvey flipped to see if he was going to let his men kill Barty. Now Two-Face was flipping to see if he was going to kill Barty. His old friend turned in horror as he saw the coin go up into the air.
Flip of the coin...
Two-Face caught the coin in his free hand and looked at the jagged scars that were pointed up at him. A smile spread across his face.
Flip of the coin...
Two-Face caught the coin in his free hand and looked at the jagged scars that were pointed up at him. A smile spread across his face.
"Sorry, Barty. Can't win them all."
"Harvey, wait!"
Two-Face pulled the trigger and put a hole in the middle of Barty's forehead. His old friend was dead before he hit the ground. Two-Face returned his gun to his holster and his coin to his pocket. What surprised him the most was that he thought he would be devastated by killing the man. In reality he felt nothing. The Barty he knew died along with Harvey Dent in that court room. He had a familiar face but at the end of the day Two-Face killed a stranger. He killed a cop and Two-Face killed cops. It came with the territory.
Goodbye, Barty.
With that another wife became a widow, another child became fatherless, and Gotham City continued to exist just like she always did. His men stood watching him stand over the lifeless body of the police officer.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Get back to work."
Two-Face pulled the trigger and put a hole in the middle of Barty's forehead. His old friend was dead before he hit the ground. Two-Face returned his gun to his holster and his coin to his pocket. What surprised him the most was that he thought he would be devastated by killing the man. In reality he felt nothing. The Barty he knew died along with Harvey Dent in that court room. He had a familiar face but at the end of the day Two-Face killed a stranger. He killed a cop and Two-Face killed cops. It came with the territory.
Goodbye, Barty.
With that another wife became a widow, another child became fatherless, and Gotham City continued to exist just like she always did. His men stood watching him stand over the lifeless body of the police officer.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Get back to work."
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