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What do you do when the proverbial prince of gotham throws a couple grand worth of fine liquor on one of the most powerful crime bosses in the city and leaves the party? You follow him out and introduce yourself, of course.
inspired by this post by @bruciemilf including their fancast for harvey because um obviously it's perfect (and also a fair bit of influence from the a wild battinson series by @emo-batboy because i'm obsessed with it and it's canon in my heart).
UPDATE: NOW POSTED ON AO3 TOO, you can find it here!
It's early autumn; which means it's the start of the rainy season in Gotham (or rather more rain) and of Harvey's latest semester at Gotham University (GothU, affectionately). Harvey isn't entirely sure how he ended up at this shindig, if he's being honest, and the person who even invited him as his plus one has vanished. He's in law school but he's still only in pre-law, he hasn't even made a name for himself yet as some sort of future threat.
(It's still early enough that about 50% of students he's going through with are still starry eyed and haven't entirely given up on the idea of making Gotham a better place.)
The weird intersection of various gangs, businessmen, politicians (corrupt or otherwise), and local celebs is there on full display; and Harvey just wants to get the fuck out of there, but he has no idea where his ride is and frankly he's a broke law student he does not have the money for a cab all the way back into central Gotham from where they are.
But then, something catches his eye-- or rather, someone:
Bruce Wayne.
Bruce Wayne had recently crossed the threshold into being the richest man in the world (just surpassing the much older Lex Luthor), with the biggest company in the world (again surpassing Luthor's own corporation), and the closest thing Gotham has to true and actual royalty.
The same Bruce Wayne that was also in two of Harvey's classes this semester at GothU for reasons he did not understand.
Harvey is admittedly, briefly entranced. Sure they share classes and like him, Bruce attends every single one, but Harvey is pretty sure he's never been this close to the man still (or maybe it just feels closer compared to the large university lecture halls). Heads turn whenever and wherever Bruce goes; and it wasn't just because he was so unfathomably rich or because nearly all of Gotham was protective of the young man. From adorable child, to cute (if sullen) pre-teen, and now into an attractive (if sullen) young man-- Bruce was hot. Sure, in a kinda funky have we confirmed he's not a Victorian vampire way but honestly maybe it was just the classical Gotham influence that made him read that way.
Harvey, even in his trance, can tell that Bruce Wayne looks uncomfortable. He can't tell if it's the social interaction or the people he's surrounded by, but either way Bruce didn't look happy to be there really. Harvey can't help but find himself compelled to watch the billionaire, because he knew the public reputation of Bruce Wayne (generous to a fault, prince of gotham but king of social anxiety and awkwardness, person you could trust to leave your small children around); but what was he like at these weird little parties where it was almost all folks who were deeply corrupt and entrenched? Was it all just a persona? Would he start doing that weird haughty laugh a lot of these other rich fucks seemed to do?
Harvey was still one of those starry-eyed pre-law students, he wanted to make a real and lasting change in this godforsaken city. Bruce Wayne held the most power and influence here. Would he be an potential ally, or Harvey's biggest obstacle?
A figure was suavely bee-lining towards Bruce, the crowd parting way for him. Harvey didn't see who the person was until they stopped before the prince, and Harvey nearly dropped the expensive, crystal glass in his hand. Carmine Falcone. Not one of his lieutenants, not some people just associated with the crime boss, no. Falcone himself. Christ, what did I get dragged into? I'll pay another semester worth of tuition if it gets me outta here--
"Bruce, my dear boy! I'm soo glad you decided to join us," Falcone practically croons, and approaches with two glasses in hand. Harvey thinks he see's a slight twitch to Bruce's eye, but the man's expression doesn't change really even with the man's arrival. Falcone pushes the fresh glass of alcohol into Bruce's hand, then swiftly and smoothly wraps a long arm around Bruce's shoulders.
Harvey watches as Bruce looks from the glass, as if trying to determine it's contents then up to Falcone, eyebrow slowly arching. Harvey can't hear everything, the crowd just barely too loud. But Falcone starts steering Bruce further into the party. Right, I need to stop gawking and find my ride--
Harvey gulps down the last of his drink, though the taste makes him want to gag. Maybe he's just not sophisticated yet enough to appreciate the morbidly expensive alcohol. He hastily sets the glass down on the nearest passing waiter's tray, and starts to look for his ride.
The search brings him closer to Falcone, which isn't thrilling, but necessary in order to sweep the room. Harvey mentally swears because the place is huge and he's probably going to have to go room by room and--
"-- my boy, just think of the potential!" Falcone's voice floats so easily over the crowd, and the guy makes Harvey's skin crawl but even he has to admit the man has his own weird ass charisma. Harvey's attention is drawn back, involuntarily, to the crime boss and Bruce Wayne. The younger man hasn't touched his drink, if Harvey had to guess; and Falcone is staying practically plastered to his side. The younger man looks so so uncomfortable and frustrated? Annoyed? Mad? It's hard for Harvey to place, because somehow Bruce Wayne also continues to look sullen and exhausted.
The crowd around Falcone is a delicate balance of men and women clearly are comfortable around him; and people who were trying to find a way to get near while not incur the wrath of his many bodyguards. Then there was Harvey, who wants nothing to do with anyone here thankyouverymuch. Harvey scans the area one last time, not finding his so-called friend; his eyes land briefly at Bruce again before he starts to turn.
"-- I mean... you're father--" Falcone can't finish his sentence and Harvey turns back just in time to see Bruce Wayne splash the insanely expensive alcohol directly into Falcone's face.
Besides a few gasps, it goes quiet in the immediate area and quickly radiates out. Everyone is shocked, including Harvey, but he also is amazed byt he sight of Bruce. He looks as unimpressed by Falcone as he is angered. Bruce says nothing, and Harvey watches as he turns on his heel and starts calmly leaving; politely placing his glass on a waitresses tray on his way out.
Harvey has no idea what compels him to do so, but he follows the billionaire out.
"Wayne! Mr. Wayne!" Harvey calls as he jogs to catch up; the man has a surprisingly fast pace and while a crowd will part for the prince, it's not about to make way for some punk pre-law student they don't even know the name of.
Bruce Wayne stops, steps away from the gleaming black car that's running. His famous butler by his side, umbrella open above their heads.
Both men look to Harvey, curious and expecting, as he skids to a stop. Harvey realizes he didn't think far enough ahead, and swallows thickly. Thankfully though, Bruce speaks first.
"Harvey, Right? Harvey Dent?" Bruce says and Harvey blinks.
"You- wait, you know who I am?"
"Sure," Bruce says easily, like his name is worth remembering to a man like him. The rain is still falling, steadily and soaking Harvey. "You're the only one saying stuff worth listening to in those classes," he adds.
Harvey blinks, and he's glad the light is shit in the overcast weather, because his face warms at the acknowledgement. "Oh..."
"I didn't expect you at a place like this," Bruce says, voice curious as he watches Harvey closely in a way that makes him want to squirm a little under the scrutiny. It's not malicious feeling, though--- Harvey thinks it seems more curious, than anything.
"My friend dragged me here, didn't tell me what was going on..." Harvey admits.
Alfred leans in and whispers something to Bruce. Bruce nods, not taking his eyes off Harvey. "Would you like a ride home, Mr. Dent?" Alfred asks.
They don't go directly to Harvey's place, and Alfred doesn't even drop Bruce off first. Instead--
"Bat Burger?" Bruce asks, as he settles fully into the seat next to Harvey. "I'm starving."
"Oh! Uh, sure?" Harvey blinks, and then looks down as Bruce pulls out a towel of all things, from-- somewhere? and offers it to him. Harvey takes it, starting to dry off how best he can.
"Alfred?"
"Of course, sir," Alfred says easily from the driver seat ahead. "So, what glorious exit did you make this time, Master Bruce?"
Bruce makes a strangled noise, scoffing. "Who says I did anything?" He replies, and Harvey stifles a laugh-- not because of the denial so much as the billionaire sounds like a kid trying to hide the mess he just made.
Harvey can see in the rear view mirror Alfred raise an eyebrow.
"He threw his very expensive drink in Falcone's face," he provides and Bruce sends him a scowl but it has no bite and he's even smiling a little.
"Oh, Bruce, really?" Alfred chides like an exhausted parent.
"Don't worry, it was expensive, not good," Bruce says in his defense; and Harvey laughs.
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Jason: I want Bruce to break the rule that will break him
Dick, who knows full well Bruce is the kind of person to either fully reject that idea or dive in right away at 500% intensity: now let's hold on for a second--
Thinking about Bruce’s relationship with Dick gives me chest pain, but can we just. Think about them. For a moment.
Because Dick Grayson meets Bruce Wayne at 10.
Before he’s 10, he’s a Flying Grayson. He moves like gravity is optional, like the ground is a suggestion, and like his parents were too good to die in Gotham.
And Bruce Wayne, — orphan, knight, shadow and hope,violence and love, — doesn’t expect to be anyone’s better option.
And Dick is little and he’s angry and justice tastes like a knife in Zucco’s neck.
And then he’s 13, and 15, and older, and Dick will never thank Bruce for keeping him. And Bruce will never need it.
Because if Bruce wasn’t Dick’s father, he would want to be.
Bruce loves him, teaches him, fires him, and yet. And yet.
They’re still on a roof, with a salted fast food bag, soggy with greasy burgers and a terribly mangled Batman Ice cream bar.
“I can’t believe you haven’t had candy since you were 8.”
Bruce shrugs, cowl folded neatly to neck, where the cape begins. Not quite Bruce, not quite Batman, but the blurry puzzle of both.
“I only liked my mother’s muffins. Anything else after that didn’t taste right.”
Dick huffs. “You didn’t like my Father’s Day muffins?! Wow. My 13 year old self is crushed, B. “
“Actually, you make them exactly like her. But yours taste better,” Bruce doesn’t exactly smile, — his face isn’t exactly built for it.
But there’s always a twitch there. Dick kinda hates how hard he’s chasing it, even now.
Then, like nothing, Bruce asks, “What was your father like?”
It’s curious. It’s not a test. It’s not even malicious.
Dick thinks. Thinks how dare you and you’ll never know what it took me to love you and you ARE my dad.
Finally, after a soft click of silence and chewing and pretending patrol is still going on, Dick says,
“He was good enough. For me.”
They don’t say anything else, but when Bruce returns to the manor, when he makes Alfred his night tea, when he tucks Damian in, the next day, there’s a batch of blueberry muffins on the counter and a scribbled bluejay next to it.
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Damian: Selina, there’s a Mother and Child event at my school. My birth mother is busy and can’t attend. Can you attend in her place?
Selina: You… you’re inviting me? To be your stepmom at that? You and me?
Damian: Yes.
Selina: So I’d be your stepmom at this event?
Damian: Yes.
Selina: And is there a... um, race where I can run on the track and possibly win?
Damian: Yes. There will be many games. You don’t have to play, but I think we can win a few. Would you like to attend? It’s called the Rose Festival.
Damian held out a paper rose he made for the event. Selina covered her mouth, small tears forming in her eyes. She never had a great relationship with her parents and hadn’t had kids of her own yet, so this kind of event felt like a gift from God.
Selina: God has finally gifted me this. Damian, I would love to go!
Damian: That’s great. You can keep the rose, mothers and guardians wear them at the event. This is for you.
Selina took the paper rose, her smile lingering. Dick leaned forward, a bit jealous.
Dick: She was my stepmom first.
Damian: Yeah, but she’ll be in this event with me, so… in your face.
Damian snickered happily. Selina gave him a side hug. Damian blinked slowly surprised at first, a soft smile forming at the warm hug. Dick, letting his moment of jealousy go, took a picture to email directly to his sworn enemy… Talia.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
This fanfic examines the unfairly neglected topics of Harvey Dent’s life and psyche, including his relationships with his father and the protector alter who would go on to become Two-Face, as a teenager. If like me you love him and his depth and potential as a character, this will hopefully be the fic for you. It’s a one-shot, but packed full of angst.
Trigger warning for injuries (blood and bruises), alcohol, references to child abuse and mental illness, dissociation and a scene of a panic attack.
Description:
Normal is subjective. You accept the reality presented to you since birth. For fifteen-year-old Harvey Dent, normal has meant living two separate existences for as long as he can remember: one behind closed doors, one in the light. And it’s fine. He’s fine. Definitely.
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