In the early afternoon, the clown has been wide awake for many long hours. Wide awake, sitting on the floor, and fussing with the pretty pink mittens Dr. McCoy gave him. Today is a therapy day. Maybe he can get them to take the damn mitten things. Not likely, though. He doesn't even know who his therapy session will be with. It varies. Sometimes it
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He glances over at Harvey now and then, though. Narrows his eyes at that little half hidden smile.
"Enjoying yourself, Harvey?"
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"Half," he shoots back, doing much worse now at hiding the smile.
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"They just want to help me. They want me better. That's..ah...that's good of them, since I'll be leaving then.... Where will you be, Harv?"
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He shrugs, looking more serious, cautious, now that the Joker's talking. "Still here, probably."
No I don't know. NO refusal to predict.
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No coin and no uncertainty. What sort of awful topsy-turvy world are they living in? Everything's gone wrong.
"Still being treated like you're crazy." He licks at the scar that creases his lower lip. "Tsk. Is that really what you want?"
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He does, anyway.
"And I'm not?"
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He shrugs. Poor, lost, Harvey. There's clearly nothing the Joker can do for him. And he tried so hard, too. Put so much effort into shaping Harvey Dent into...a better man.
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...but even that's too long spent thinking about it. His coin is in his hands, without thinking about it, and he rolls it between his fingers as he touches his tongue to his exposed bicuspids, wetting the dry gums. "Maybe," he half-concedes. "Maybe not. Maybe both. Or neither."
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He arches a brow and shakes his head sadly for all the poor, deluded souls living under the false impression that there's some defining line between people like him and the guy next door.
"Stop. Playing. Their. Games. It's no good. You can't win. You know that, right?"
When his own hands are taken from him, he can always work on getting an extra pair to go to work for him.
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The clown's way also maintains their 'friendship' and makes Harvey's life minutely less immediately expendable than the average man. Not by a lot, but it's the best that he can hope for, short of being Batman.
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He looks the clown in the eyes, as he holds up the coin. Shows the clean side, then the burnt side. Like he's about to flip. Then he places it on the desk.
"No."
He sits down on his bunk, and grabs a book to pretend to read.
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"You are really disappointing me, Harvey. I don't know if we can be pals anymore. Not if you aren't going to play fair."
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"Good."
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"That's not very smart, Harvey. I only like half of you. Do you want both of us against you?"
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