Fic: Untitled, Five
Harvey. The White Knight.
Harvey’s an all-American boy, through and through. Shining idealist. Bold. Confident. Looks good on television.
So sure of himself and the systems around him.
Harvey-boy believes in American dreams. That wars are winnable, that good always conquers. That stability is in sanity.
It’s too easy.
He’ll be more interesting as America’s true face-two face.
Ever seen a disillusioned American?
They can’t deal with degrees of madness. To them, everything’s fair or not. Break someone like Harvey and they can’t process the world around them.
They really go mad.
I believe in Harvey Dent.
Really believe.
Streets quiet. No sign of him.
That’s because he’s on a mission.
What did I say?
“Batman has no jurisdiction.”
Only a mission to save Gotham. He won’t let one silly little squinter get in the way of his plan.
He thinks it’s the end, but it’s the beginning. The beginning of eternity.
The night isn’t darkest before the dawn.
I’m changing the game, just like he changed it a year ago. When I’m done, night and day won’t matter and it’ll be his move.
Whoever wants to win has to reinvent the rules.
Over, and over, and over again.
Mayor Anthony Garcia. Promised in his campaign to clean the streets.
Politicians.
Garcia. That’s a Hispanic name. I wonder how many Salvadorans are in County right now.
You see-Garcia’s putting on the pressure. Because it’s popular. Because there’s money in garbage disposal. That’s how democracy works.
The message is in the medium.
Without money for facetime on television, Garcia wouldn’t have a show.
You see-you don’t want order in Gotham. You don’t really want justice.
What you want is something familiar. Something systematic.
Something boring.
Don’t be afraid.
Face the strangeness inside.
And you’ll find my new order.
Why do I kill?
Better question-why do you think I have a reason for killing?
Why do you think there’s a reason for anything I do, if I have no backstory?
I have a plan.
I have a plan, but does that imply justification? Does it imply a goal?
I don’t know.
You tell me-does my plan have purpose?
You see-murder is like math.
Some people do it because it’s useful. Some people do it for money. It gets them things they want.
But some people-some people do math because it’s interesting.
Some people do math because it’s beautiful.
Commissioner Loeb likes to take a sip or two when he’s tired.
He gets tired a lot.
Criminals these days. They’re desperate. They’re hungry. They’re hemmed in and confused. It makes long hours at the office, and headaches.
Commissioner Loeb doesn’t like him, but he’ll love me. I know. He’ll like me so much, he’ll invite me to his funeral.
Commissioner Loeb is wary about the Mayor. He’s smart. He knows where the money comes from. Who the Mayor’s friends are.
Commissioner Loeb will like me so much, I’ll honor his death with another.
I’ve already sent him my card.
It all depends on the Bat.
It’s all part of the plan.
We need each other. Action and reaction, action and reaction.
He acted. I’m reacting. He’ll react to my actions of reactions in acting!
You see-every action is a choice. He doesn’t know it, but depending on his choices, depending on how much time it takes him to catch onto my game-he determines all the outcomes.
Depending on his timing, I’ll rewrite the rules.
So really, I’m not doing anything. Just letting people react.
No rules but reaction.
Let’s wind all the clocks back. Start the stopwatch.
Isn’t it funny how no one in this town sleeps?
I don’t.
He doesn’t. Bats are nocturnal.
Gordon, and the MCU. Loeb, with his little police programs. Garcia sleeps like a baby, but he’s been tossing and turning. Worrying about Harvey.
Harvey works very hard, to put the scum of Gotham behind bars. To bring justice to his system. The Mob works very hard, to find another corner to hide in. They’re wide awake, day and night.
And Gotham-she never sleeps.
No one will want to sleep when the games begin.
And you know what they say about insomnia.
Gordon is a rare breed.
Rare, rare breed.
The kind that keeps their head low and does the dirty work no one wants. The quiet kind that slinks around in darkness. Careful. Watching. The kind that doesn’t stop.
He’s a rat. A rat on the wrong side of the cage, working their little wheel.
It’s the quiet ones you’ve got to look out for. You think that Harvey Dent is the soul of Gotham?
The day Gordon smiles is the day I’ve won.
But you don’t win wars in one battle.
I’m saving up something special for Gotham’s beloved Commissioner.