𝔹𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝔻𝕠𝕠𝕣 - 𝕋𝕨𝕠𝔽𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝕩 '𝕋𝕚𝕤𝕥!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣
ℙ𝕥. 𝟙 - ℍ𝕒𝕝𝕗-𝕋𝕣𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕤
Summary: The disconnect between Harvey and Harv's thoughts grows beyond what TwoFace can keep track of themselves. But they should've known they couldn't trust anyone to do the thinking for them. One rat down, he wonders about returning to arkham... no! No, he'd have to find another way to bypass this mental block.
Tags: Hypnotherapy (not necessarily accurate), attempted use of DID terminology (I apologise if I use them incorrectly - please correct me in the comments), gender neutral reader, and SFW angst.
(For anyone not into hypnokink, "'tist" refers to the hypnotist in a given dynamic. Usually the dom is the 'tist, but not necessarily)
(Again, this is a general TwoFace rather than any specific universe, but I pulled Dr. Tompkins and Harvey's past experience of hypnotherapy from BTAS.)
(I will also be using the plural and singular mix of pronouns like in the last fic, though the fact TwoFace uses more singular pronouns in this fic indicates more of a split. They are taking turns rather than co-fronting as much this time.)
Banner by @sister-lucifer and @thecutestgrotto
"Why are we here?", Harv grunted. Staring down the door to an office he hasn't visited in a long time. Longer than he can remember... but Harvey can.
"Funny, you should already know since it's your fault we even came here!", Harvey snapped back in a snark hiss at his co-front's predictable bluntness. It wouldn't be the first time they pulled in opposite directions, but they've always been painfully aware of each other the whole time. Now it seems they rarely share the room and have to guess what the other was up to. Harvey truly didn't know what Harv did, only what he himself didn't do.
He didn't leave a diary of all their plans lying about their hideout. He didn't go around putting his fingerprints on all the commissioner's dirty laundry. He didn't unload that gun into their second in command!
And unfortunately Harv felt too defensive to explain anything.
For the longest time, keeping secrets seemed impossible in such a cramped consciousness they shared. However, without either of them realising it, that impossibility became far too possible. Plans made of patchwork communicated in a laggy game of Chinese whispers between Harvey, their lacky, Harv and back. With holes in their memory like moth-eaten clothing, thoughts falling through the gaps. They didn't work well at the best of times before, but now? They aren't quite sure how it happened, but their dynamic duo was dissolving into a partitioned pair.
So, in lieu of answers, making the most of his fleeting time at the wheel seemed the best option. A brisk get away to the only place he could find real help when Harv was more than he could handle. Lesley always did have a way of making Harv talk...
Some part of Harvey worried what this change meant. Was their control of this body not as evenly split as they first thought? Once he'd managed to skip an entire day in the blink of an eye, he knew they couldn't wait for this to resolve itself. They needed help and fast!
"I don't know where you get off doing things behind my back", Harvey said, still reeling from the last mess he had to clean up. Instinctively rubbing his thumb over where he had to scrub the blood off before coming here. Shirt un-tucked and suit unbuttoned in their rush to change, knowing their other suit was still left crumpled in the bottom of their wardrobe, blood stains embedding themselves deeper with every passing minute. Hair and hands still damp with soapy water they didn't bother to dry off.
"Says you! You're always talking over my head and telling half-truths.", and the worst part was, he wasn't wrong. At times it felt like they each really did only have half a mind, like somehow only Harvey ever made it through law school or had a seat at the table at any given meeting these days. So it wasn't as if Harv's frustrations were unfounded when he huffed, "Mind filling me in next time you decide to go walkies? You may enjoy having your brain switched off, but I don't!"
"Oh, so you do know where we are?", Harvey pressed, as much as Harv realising where they are might compel him to turn tail he couldn't help but rub salt in the wound and make clear exactly what awaited Harv because of his monumental cock-up. If Harv couldn't be trusted with their mind, then Harvey had no choice but to hand it over to someone else! He'd never admit it, but it was him (not Harv) that took a liking to drink for that very same reason. Only thing holding him back is how much power drinking himself silly gives to Harv, at least this way he can switch of without that risk.
"Never seen it from the outside, but yeah. Can't mistake the door of that damn shrink's office. Hated talking to that bitch...", Harv's venomous hiss more fearful than threatening. Cornered.
"Well, that 'bitch' is exactly who we need to see right now so you can-"
Meanwhile, sat at the clinically sterile, empty desk of the former Dr.Tompkins was a fresh face. Eye-bags dark like the wet ink from their only recently awarded degree. Enjoying what was a quiet afternoon of paperwork following only a handful of appointments earlier that day. Now disturbed by the muffled bickering just outside their door.
No one was scheduled for this afternoon. Odd. Maybe their colleagues needed their help with something? Neither voice sounded familiar though, and the silhouette appeared remarkably... singular, for an argument between clearly two people. Better go check to see what the fuss is about...
Pushing up from their chair with a creak, their office mostly unchanged from when the previous doctor sat in their place, each foot step similarly creaking with the weight of the shoes they were attempting to fill. Even the name on their office door hadn't been changed yet.
So when they opened the door, it shouldn't have been surprising that the man behind it looked just as shocked as they did.
"Hello? You can come in if... you..." came the tired yet soft, lilted voice of the therapist who'd sat impatiently waiting for the chatter to quieten down, expecting no new patients today let alone him, "oh dear."
"You're not Dr. Tompkins", Harvey said quite plainly, sounding a little put-out. It had been a long while since his last visit, and in his desperation to find a solution to their "problem" he hadn't bothered to do any official paperwork to book this appointment. Or else they'd see it wasn't Lesley who'd be greeting them today.
Looking down at the good doctor with a look of sincere confusion, they took a moment to process this slight change in plans. Weighing up the risks of abruptly leaving to go find who they meant to see today versus taking a chance with a new face. They could at least try. Strangely, a twinge of recognition flashed behind their eyes. That voice...
"So? Where is she?", Harvey asked, hoping maybe they'd just missed her or she'd simply moved office. Unfortunately...
"Oh, uh, she retired soon after I started working here. Were you, um, one of her... patients?", the doctor's hesitation made clear how scared they were to have one of Gotham's most infamous rogues turn up unannounced. Something that was almost always bad news, to be fair. It was easy to forget they might not be the most welcome company, having not returned since well... they were a different man.
It's unsurprising that Lesley's replacement wouldn't know she was once Dent's hypnotherapist. Back then, the PR nightmare he tried desperately to avoid was still tightly under wraps. Nobody but Bruce knew. And even as his worst impulses came to glaring light, all the public knew was that the acid attack incited this schism in him. Not that it had been there since so many years before, ready to boil over if given the opportunity. Would it make a difference to fill-in this new therapist now? Probably not. His demons were now as plain as his face after all.
"...Something like that", they said as they stepped into the office, gently nudging past the new doctor. Too preoccupied with the flood of memories this room washed over them, heavy yet soothing. Torn between the comfort it gave Harvey and the anger it stirred in Harv. This place, a temple to everything they were and everything done to tame what Harvey didn't want to be. A blanket. A snare.
"C-Come in then! I don't actually have any patients booked in for the rest of the day, so you came at the right time", they stammered, unsure what to make of the predicament that had just fallen into their lap, the kind that surely required a delicate touch. For their own sake or TwoFace's? They weren't quite sure, so erred on the side of caution, "Tell me, what would you like me to help you with?"
"Him.", TwoFace said bluntly, tones clashing like a voice crack.
"Could you elaborate-"
"Make him shut up.", there it was again, the cracking. They were finally, truly, in the same room! Stepping on each others toes with every word.
"I-I'm not sure I understand...", now settled back into their desk chair and TwoFace settling into the rather uncomfortable chair that replaced the old chez lounge they remembered, beginning their session before even thinking about it.
"We've been forgetting things. (He has) (What?!)", words and thoughts flowed seamlessly for them, unable to tell who said what aloud, "What I remember, he forgets and what he remembers, I forget. Neither of us feel in control and it's driving us mad! (It's your fault!)"
Feeling wholly unequipped, overwhelmed frankly, the good doctor thought to refer them to one of their colleagues - Arkham, even - but a mix of sordid curiosity for the rogue and pity at the mess he spilled upon their lap made them reconsider it. Their scope of practice did technically include patients like him, he's just... unique, shall we say? That said, their seemingly stress-induced memory problems weren't entirely alien. And at the very least it couldn't hurt to try and understand their concerns better and help them relax if that's all they're after?
"Tell me the last thing you remember, if you can?"
"Which one of us?", they said, talking over each other again. If it were possible you swear they'd be giving themselves intense side-eye right now. Instead they kept their eyes averted as if avoiding their own gaze.
"I -sorry- I should have asked your names. That might make this easier," you apologised, though it wasn't as if they'd made much of an attempt to leave room for introductions or pleasantries so far either. Making him extend that extra courtesy felt a little ill-advisable right now, so you held your tongue.
"My name is Harvey... Dent. I did think you might've already known that given how public my -uh- y'know-", he pointed at the dramatic scarring marking his "bad side" to speak for itself. Truth be told, despite how big the story was at the time, you'd completely forgotten who TwoFace used to be. Well, still is, but only in the technical sense.
"Of course of course, but I get the impression your companion goes by another name, correct?", you clarified.
"'Companion'?! 'Leech' more like! His name is Harv", adding 'big bad' in front felt embarrassing even if it felt apt. No, right now he doesn't deserve to be granted any power, even nominally.
"Interesting comparison to make. Do you really feel that you and Harv have a parasitic relationship?", you gently pried, hoping to get a footing in their case.
"If you're done speaking for me, I'd like to throw my own two cents into the ring", Harv's scarred hand fished through their pocket for their iconic coin, beginning to flip it with clear irritation, "Let's make one thing abundantly clear Doc, we share this body, this mind - always have done! And we... we don't understand why that's stopped", he paused again, slowing down his rant to a more somber concern, "Why we feel stuck with our half and unable to piece the two together. Hard to work together when you work different shifts, ya know?"
"You mean you aren't doing this on purpose? You aren't just giving me shove out of my own head so you can be at the helm for good?", Harvey argued, clearly uninterested in his alter ego's sincerity and committed to his own assumption of Harv's guilt. A hunger for power, for control. A hunger they both shared, even if Harvey would hesitate to admit it. They grabbed the coin mid-flip. Forcing attention back to themselves.
"Oh and I bet that's exactly why you came here while I was out, right? So you can snuff me out and have your head 'back'? News flash, kid, this head was never fully yours to begin with!", Harv was yelling now, shaking. What at first seemed like anger soon revealed the thinly veiled panic that it was. Something you could perhaps sooth in a rather cynical attempt to gain their trust, or at least Harv's.
"No-one is getting 'snuffed out'," you interjected, "now, Harv, what was the last thing you remember from the last time you woke up from one of these 'black-outs'?"
Harvey shifted uncomfortably, feathers ruffled at the fact you asked Harv before him, but having the patience to wait his turn. Clearly itching to interrupt with his side of the story as Harv spoke, "Aside from waking up here, the one before that was in the middle of a conversation with Mags-"
"-yeah, and then you shot him!", and there it is.
Harv was quick to defend himself, "You weren't there, you don't know!"
"I know I woke up with the gun in my hand and blood all over our suit!", Harvey doubled down.
"Who fucking asked you?! I wasn't done!", Harv swore, stiff scars straining with the force of his scowl like old stitching barely holding their face together.
"I know you aren't, that's exactly why we're here; so you can't keep fucking up behind my-"
"Let Harv speak, Harvey. Who is 'Mags', Harv?", you bring the conversation back, more sternly than you'd been up until now. Finally feeling like you had some footing in their quarrel.
"Mags -Magpie- was our right-hand man. Was a big help when all this started, helped us keep track." Harv subtly clenched his fist, as if to hide a greater release of anger at the memory, "Then I find out he's been stealing shit, ratting us out to other gangs, taking advantage of the gaps in our memory, nearly getting us killed. So, yeah, schoolboy's right." A smile pricked up on their face, one of shared smug satisfaction and of defiance. Both feeling right. Harv finished with a firm declaration, "I did shoot him. Call me crazy but I don't like a rat throwing us both under the bus!"
Something didn't add up. Did only Harv know that Mags was a rat? Was Harvey upset out of ignorance or did he know about Mags and just wanted to handle him another way? Whichever it was, the conversation quickly derailed again as Harvey kept talking over Harv trying to explain himself. Time to intervene, again.
"Harvey, it is technically your turn to talk now, but I believe you've told me most of what you remember already. The gun, the blood... coming here.", you start, hoping to get things back on track.
"If you'll let me speak uninterrupted for a moment, I'd greatly appreciate it" you nodded as Harvey continued, "In fact, I was kind of hoping you could keep him quiet for me in general."
"I knew I couldn't fucking trust you! You're so damn predictable. Well, shows how much you know - you'd be dead without me! And fuck you too, Doc, you ain't gonna do shit to me!", Harv snapped, forcing them both off the chair to stomp closer to your desk.
"You're right, Harv, I won't." you say, trying your damnedest to keep cool even as your heart thumped through your chest, "I can't actually."
"Dr. Tompkins could. Tell us -tell me- where to find her and we'll be out of your hair.", Harvey kept pushing, inching forwards and leaning over your desk. For as scary as Harv could be, Harvey wasn't far behind.
"I don't know where she lives, unfortunately for you. And even if I did, tracking her down won't make a difference. Hypnotherapy requires trust. Trust that Harv clearly isn't ready to give, and from the sounds of things, I don't blame him."
By now Harvey loomed mere inches from your face, shadow encompassing both halves of his. A few seconds of silent intimidation, baring into your far less effectively than he had hoped. He wouldn't push it, not this, so he fell back to give you back some space. Harvey was speechless. It was rare people didn't share the same fears as him, about Big Bad Harv. Friends, enemies, all shared common ground in their apprehension towards him. What he might do, what he has done. Enough to know when he, Harvey, was speaking, they at least stood a chance of appealing to reason. So would plead or beg or gamble if it was him talking, not Harv. Why then, were they so adamant Harv should be left alone? Why?!
After a minute or two of silent deliberation, you chose you next few words carefully, "I don't mean to assume anything, but when you were her patient was it before becoming-"
"Yes, yes it was.", Harvey answered quickly, still a bit flabbergasted by your resolve.
"Right. That might have changed things then.", you added.
"Why?"
"Well, for one, back then I assume you were less evenly split? If Harvey was the only one technically being hypnotised then it may have been easier than trying to trance you both at once, as I'd be doing now."
"Then do it one at a time.", Harvey insisted, clearly growing desperate.
"Or don't do it at all!", Harv finally chimed in, desperate himself but for entirely different reasons. More akin to a cornered dog at the vet.
"You don't get a say in this-", Harvey snapped again.
"Like Hell I don't! You know the rules...", rolling the coin through their rough fingers, Harv held it up as if to tauntingly remind Harvey of his own compulsions. Order. Fairness.
Sucking in a sharp breath of frustration, Harvey begrudgingly nodded, "Fine. Good side, we proceed. Bad side, we leave. Happy?"
"Very.", Harv's curt response tipping off that their 50/50 odds weren't entirely enough to put them at ease, but at least their decision would be final. No more bickering, just a simple granting or withdrawal of consent.
Less than a second - and it's over.
Bad side.
"Well! It's been terrible meeting you, Doc, but at least you probably won't ever see us again! Goodbye", they slammed the door on their way out, itching to leave. Their words filtered through gritted teeth. Harv's beaming grin and Harvey's scornful grimace, seething. Harv may have gotten what he wanted, but if their split is as severe as they said then you doubt it'll be long before you hear their discordant knock on your door once more.
"You know... their voice sounded familiar!", Harvey mused, trying to make the most of this spell of serendipitous unity they had before what they feared would be another blackout for one of them. Intangibly, yet viscerally, they could feel the next blackout approaching, like the crackling of a phone signal about to cut out. Asking questions compelled answers, kept them in-sync. But only up to a point.
"Why do you think I didn't immediately walk us out of there? They weren't your old shrink, so maybe they'd listen to me and they did - go figure.", Harv grumbled, not entirely satisfied with his small victory in going another day without some doctor trying to get inside their head just because Harvey is fine letting them in. The fact that is the first thing he tries the moment he isn't there to stop him sent a chill down their spine and Harvey felt it too.
"You could've told me! Are they someone you met while I was "out"?", Harvey tutted.
"No!", Harv rather defensively answered, but quickly back-peddled, "At least I don't think so? You do realise we could've just met them in passing a while back together, right? Not everything you forget is something I specifically know!"
Strange that they both found the doctor's voice familiar while holding so little common ground these days, especially as neither knew where from... Their face was new, that's for certain. They couldn't put their finger on why, but their voice was so... comforting? No, that wasn't quite it. Soothing? Well if that were true, maybe Harv wouldn't have kicked up such a stink. No, they're probably remembering someone else's voice.
For now, they'd have to call an uneasy truce. No Mags to keep tabs on their paper trail, no clear way to sew their psyche back together, taking turns indefinitely until they figure something out... or one of them never wakes up.
"I know, no harm in asking though."
Note: I like to think of Harv as more cynical than Harvey. Street smart and suspicious, though edging into paranoia which partly contributes to why he's more quick to violence. He's seen Harvey be used like a tool far too many times to fully trust his admittedly more educated judgement.
Also, I apologise for switching between third person and first person perspective for the reader insert. I try to keep it consistent but sometimes I mean to start a scene from TwoFace's perspective (so the reader insert is "they"), only to gradually shift to the reader's perspective (when I start using "you"). It's a bad habit I'm trying to fix so I sincerely apologise where it has cropped up and I have forgotten to edit into the correct perspective.
ORIGINALLY I was going to keep the split very strict. It was orginially going to just be Harvey knocking on the reader's door. Begging to be hypnotised to keep Harv under control, panicked and covered in blood. I may write that version out again for those who like that idea. Something like, "Where's Dr. Tompkins?! Please, I need help - I can't control him myself anymore, Doc, please!" while grabbing at the reader's suit.
However, instead I ended up with them arriving before the split has become more extreme. Being on the tail-end of a more gradual shift and a rare moment with both of them back in the room. The starker split coming in part 2 and scaring the shit out of Harv (basically being the reason he comes back, realising they need each other). I think that could still work with the alternate version, it would just play out slightly differently. Lmk what you think? x
