capeandcowllogs | oh we don’t own our heavens now

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oh we don’t own our heavens now

WHO: HARVEY DENT and MATT MURDOCK
WHERE: NOHoPE
WHEN: Tuesday the 12th, 2AM.
WARNINGS: Will edit as needed.
SUMMARY: Harvey, the most disillusioned ex-lawyer, goes to visit Matt, the most disgraced ex-lawyer.
FORMAT: Prose to start, whatever afterward.

It had been a long time. Longer than it had to be or should have been in all likelihood, but Harvey couldn't bring himself to go back to the hospital after he'd hung himself within its walls in November. Even less could he bring himself to face Matt after all that had transpired between the two last they'd seen each other, and after Matt seemingly had finally removed the veil from his eyes (so to speak) to see the world for what it was, and how justice really needed to be doled out.

Harvey had liked this less than he'd have suspected.

It was risky, possibly even stupid of Harvey to be coming back. He wasn't taking any unnecessary chances, though -- he snuck into the building during visiting hours and hid until evening fell, using the darkness in his favor as he made his way to Matt's cell. Anyone else might have trouble, but Harvey was familiar enough with Arkham to know the tricks to evading security; this hospital was laid out almost exactly the same, better yet. The rooms even had the same glass walls. It was like a little piece of Gotham had made its way into the City just to haunt the Gothamites who'd made it there.

He rapped on the glass twice lightly with a gloved hand.

"Matt."

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His heart beat like a drum, a pulse of panic and excitement cut through him as the reflections of sound washed over his body. Harvey. Harvey. Matt could feel him through the glass, not just hear him, and it made him incredibly angry. How dare he come now, when he was nearly better, when he was ready to make amends? Matt had been in the darkness, desperate for Harvey's help, turned away so coldly, dismissed. And now that he'd found the light on his own, here he was. What a cruel twist of fate.

"You're a little late, Harvey."

"You wanted to see me," Harvey said, blunter than usual when speaking with Matt. He'd waited on purpose, refusing to give Matt yet another opportunity to disappoint him. To fail him. Some things had to be learned through experience. When Matt no longer had the power to put Harvey away, Harvey could talk.

He leaned his fingers against the glass.

"So I'm here. Doesn't feel so good, does it?"

"I'm sick, Harvey," was all he could muster initially. His voice caught in his throat, the frustration and fluster getting the better of him. "This is where I need to be. If I ever want to get better, I need to make amends."

Matt rose to his feet, approaching the glass in a slow, practiced shuffle. He was listening for Harvey's heartbeat, to hear him and read him and be somehow reassured that he wasn't imagining this encounter/

"Did you hear what I did?"

"Here I thought I was the sick one," Harvey replied, in what was obviously a bitter swipe. Matt's disregard for him -- his methods, his justice -- all this time had culminated in the man sitting in a cell not unlike Harvey's own, for reasons also not unlike Harvey's own. Where the justice was in that, Harvey couldn't say.

His palms didn't move from the glass, but he narrowed his eye.

"I heard. Don't tell me you're regretting it already?"

Harvey was the sick one, as far as Matt was concerned. Or maybe they were both sick. Either way, there was still a major difference between them when it came to their troubled minds: Matt wanted to get better, Harvey didn't seem to care. He reveled in his madness in a way Matt could never understand. As close as he came to the edge, he never could quite embrace the insanity. It hurt too much. He felt too guilty.

"It was supposed to happen differently."

Harvey chuckled, his forehead pressing to the glass now as well. His good eye fixed on Matt intently, watching him as best he could in the darkness. He did wonder what Matt had been thinking -- not judgmentally, but curiously. What had changed to push him so. For that matter, what had Matt really wanted of Harvey when he'd called for him weeks back?

He did wonder.

"Just what were you expecting?" He asked, almost sneering. "That it'll go your way just because you want it to?"

"I put everything I had into this," he answered darkly. It felt embarrassing to admit, almost, how badly he'd wanted his mission to succeed, how blind he'd been to all of the shortcomings. Hindsight was 20/20, as it always was, and now especially he felt ashamed of all the ways he'd not only been wrong, but utterly failed in his antics. "I had no one on my side in the end. It was too grand an effort to make on my own."

He shifted, hands balling into fists.

"I needed your help."

Barking another laugh, Harvey moved away from the glass, facing the opposite wall. Now his eye was narrowed, and he crossed his arms.

"Needed my help for what? You've never wanted it before," he said, blunt and disdainfully. "You've never helped me," he added. "I gave you what you wanted. Distance. I give you everything, Matt. What more is there?"

"I tried to tell you before, but you didn't listen to me." His expression tightened, teeth gnashing for the briefest of moments before he forced himself to let the anger go. In it's place was something colder, more bitter than wounded. "I changed. When I died, I gave up something of myself. If you'd come to me before, I could have showed it to you."

"You don't really expect me to believe that." Harvey looked back over his shoulder at Matt, good eye glaring. It had offended him back then and it still offended him now. He hit his hand against the glass; it vibrated mildly.

"What changed? Just what would I have seen? Besides the inside of a cell. You may think I'm crazy," he hissed. "But I'm not walking right into the arms of someone who's made it very clear he wants me locked up for good."

Matt licked his lips, habitually lowering his head like he was praying, or confessing his darkest sins. "I was exposed to a new way of thinking. My world changed. My perceptions, everything changed. You've never experienced the Hand, Harvey. You don't know what they're capable of. But believe me when I say that they are powerful enough to shake the staunchest believer to the core."

One hand reached toward the glass, palm pressing flat against it. He'd let Harvey pull him, stretch him until he thought he might break, but Matt hadn't gone out of his way to deceive him. He'd always been what he was and who he was. He didn't understand why Harvey wouldn't believe him now.

"Tell me, then. I'm listening," Harvey growled, opening his palm so that his hand pressed parallel to where Matt's did. He was still scowling, but his tone had softened slightly -- more patiently.

"Matt."

Looking at him, in the dark with his head bowed, reminded Harvey of something he had first seen in Matt years back. A sense of real justice and salvation, things which Harvey hadn't counted on finding again.

"I'm here now."

He tried to find his words, that gift of lawyerly gab suddenly leaving him when he needed it the most. It was like he was on his own this time, exposed to his core, with only his insanity to guide him. Nothing was left of the man Harvey had known before. Or if anything was still there, it was hiding somewhere deep down inside.

"It was like something shattered inside my head. You know when a piece of gravel hits a windshield and leaves a nick? And that nick slowly starts to spread, those long spindly cracks that grow longer and longer until it takes over the whole thing and you can't see anymore? I cracked, Harvey. My mind cracked and I couldn't see." His fingers curled into the glass, nails scratching against the surface and sending a shiver down his spine. "And when it cracked, something got inside."

Frowning, Harvey said nothing for a while, just watching Matt speak and move slightly in the extremely faint light. With only one seeing eye it was mostly the motions he was following, but he could make out Matt's expressions if he leaned close enough to the glass.

"Is that what you think happened to me?" He asked finally. It was, in a way, not far off-base. He was quiet another moment. "Just what is it exactly that you want from me?"

"Very few people have understood me." Matt's face didn't give much away, a deliberate effort on his part. He'd been accused of having too open an expression in the past. He was too easy to read. Even while confessing his sins to Harvey, he wanted to keep a shred of his privacy in tact. "Very few people in my life have even bothered to try. But you've always understood me, haven't you. I knew you would see things the way I did, if you would only come see me."

Then, sharply, he turns away from the glass, standing in a slumped profile against the transparent wall. "But you wouldn't. You couldn't even put the past aside to try. And I needed you to try, Harvey. I needed you."

"I never said I was the forgiving sort, Matt. I did understand you, but you never wanted to understand me," he said slowly, voice a growl. "No matter how much I tried."

He didn't move from the glass, although he moved his hand so that he could lean his entire arm against it.

"Even Renee tried. She gave me a chance." Not that it mattered now. She was long gone. He sneered. "I'm not your dog."

"I understood you, whether I wanted to or not. That's why..." His voice faded, words leaving him. Slowly his body seemed to deflate, strength evaporating, a shell of a man left in its place.

"You can't take and take and push and expect it'll win people over. I'm here. I've seen the world through your eyes. And I did it on my own, without you."

"Then you understand why I wouldn't come," Harvey said, his voice stiff and slightly sharp. His hand clenched tightly into a fist. "When I asked you to understand, I didn't ask you to do it with me. I would never."

He growled again, voice rising slightly more in resentment.

"I wasn't going to help ruin you, Matt. But you're right, you did that fine on your own." He sneered, eye narrowing. "Don't blame the rest on me."

"Is that what you think?" Matt asked, voice suddenly spiking with anger. "That I'm ruined? So far beyond redemption that I've become... you?"

"No," Harvey said with some solemnity, a hiss through his teeth. "You might as well be on your way. How do you think I started? I was like you once. So it stands to reason that the reverse could also be true. Given time. Encouragement. Do you think I wanted that for you?"

He lowered his gaze for a moment. "You were perfect the way you were. "

Perfect the way he was? Perfect by what definition? By whose? By Harvey Dent's? What did that even mean and why did it even matter to Matt? He didn't want it to matter. He didn't want any of this? Or did he? Was Harvey's validation better than none at all?

"That's why I'm here. I'm climbing back up again."

"Climbing up to where?" The question was both incredulous and genuinely curious. After a beat of impatient silence, he continued:

"You should know, once you've fallen down the steps you can never climb all the way back up again. You know, I've tried. It's not even really worth it in the end. Nothing really changes. No one ever believes in you again the way they used to."

"I've been down before," Matt answered, almost dismissively but not quite. He didn't appreciate Harvey doubting him, though he wouldn't quite cross the line into yelling again. "And I've always gotten back up. If you're good enough, they have to take you back. If you're good enough that God can forgive you... then it's good enough for them."

It had to be. There had to be some redemption out there for him still.

"God." Another laugh, but it was shorter, more rueful. "Matt. This is out of God's hands. I know it is for me. Maybe there's still some hope for you. I can't say. But real redemption isn't always out there. Some of us only have chance to rely on."

He squinted and moved away from the glass, further. "You're lucky. That's all I can say."

Lucky. Lucky? No, Matt wasn't lucky. He'd suffered in his time, his body and soul ached and he felt like he'd lost his mind. What he had experienced wasn't the result of luck, it was the result of years of failing and the desire not to fail again.

"I don't believe that," Matt said as he turned away from the glass and began to retreat into the cell. "It might seem hopeless but it isn't."

Not for him, and not for Harvey either.

"Whatever you want to believe. Since when have you ever listened to me," Harvey said with a scoff, hands on hips. He shook his head slightly, just to himself, before he glanced back through the glass at Matt. It was harder to see him now, and Harvey had to squint slightly.

"I should leave you to it."

His breathing hitched for a second as he heard the beginnings of Harvey's departure. Part of him didn't want the other man to go, and the part that wanted Harvey to leave also wanted to pummel that part of himself. It was a mess, his mind, and he felt ashamed of it and of having let Harvey have a glimpse of it.

Eventually the bitter side won out, the side that refused to call back to Harvey. But the victory wasn't a pleasant one. It resulted in him feeling resigned and weak as he slid sullenly into the darkest corner of his cell.

Part of Harvey wanted to stay -- characteristic of him, of course, but he really was divided. He didn't think he could reach Matt any further than he'd tried, but he still didn't want to leave him behind. Not entirely.

Matt was all he had. Matt and--

The metal was cold against his palm. Harvey moved down the hallway, still watching the cell before he fixed his gaze to the coin again. Time like this were when he needed it the most.

Bad heads, he left.

Good heads, he didn't. Not until the morning shift change.

The coin clinked faintly and he looked at the unscarred face that stared back up at him in the dim light once it fell. His good eye, the seeing one, lidded slightly and he sat slowly, leaning his back against the glass wall. He said nothing, putting his face in his hands.

Matt's posture became more rigid as he listened to Harvey moving. There was the temptation to ask what he was doing, or at least ask him why, even though his radar made the other man's movements perfectly clear. Harvey was there, with him, just on the other side of the glass. Close enough to nearly touch, if he'd wanted. Close enough to break through that glass, maybe...

No. Matt was in this cell for a reason, to pay the price of his insanity and deal with the fall out. He wouldn't allow himself even the thought of asking Harvey to break him out. Instead, he somehow managed to inch his way closer to the glass without a word, moving along the wall slowly until he was just a few centimeters away again.

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oh we don’t own our heavens now

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better late than never, right? ;~;