IdeasGuy
patreon
See No Evil: Therapy Session (ch. 31)
🕑 Added 2021-02-10 15:59:51 +0000 UTC"Saint Vergil…" Two-Face began, a raspy quality in his voice as he looked around at the interior of the bar. "I've heard a great deal about you. The man who takes anyone in. Provides clean clothes, free food, and shelter… and asks nothing in return." His startling blue eyes bore a hole into mine, paying no mind to the ten LGs that were in the room. Each armed and their weapons trained on him and the five others.
My smile was fixed to my face as I saw another ten Two-Face goons approach from hidden angles, surrounding the front of the bar and building. I found them because most of them were using the same angles I used to hide my cameras. "That's what they say," I agreed, making a show of eyeing up the five men. The other four were solid dudes, but it was hard to take notice of them with Two-Face standing in front of them. He was a fairly tall man with broad shoulders, his tight-fitting suit made that fact stand out more. "But unless you gentlemen are looking for a coat, I'm afraid there's nothing for you here."
Two-Face smiled. It used to be a charming one, I thought to myself, seeing half of it on the right side of his face. The left made it less charming. His lips had been burnt away, same for most of his cheek, revealing a row of teeth. The skin was scarred and blistered, almost hard to look at in a way. "I wouldn't say that," he said, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I needed a plan. Two-Face was confident because he thought he outnumbered us. I could use that against him while making sure that was the case. Two-Face took my moment of silence to continue, my gaze never wavering from his.
"You see," Two-Face he began, tilting his head as he looked down at me, "You're the one I'm here for."
Fuck you Cobblepot. And fuck you Two-Face.
"I'm afraid that I'm not on the menu, Two-Face, so you'll be leaving here disappointed," I said, hefting my shotgun onto my shoulder as I leaned into the bar. My cards floated to my hand, drawn to the card tucked under my gloves. Drawing the top card, I unsealed my phone and used the connection between my contacts and phone to pull up Revy's name and number.
"Gotham," Two-Face started, ignoring me and the growing tension in the room. He smiled to himself, a terrible sound that was a mockery of a chuckle escaped his throat. "You have something special here, Saint Vergil. This place, from all that I've heard, describes Gotham perfectly. A hidden corner of the city… where filth can gather and spread." His gaze was hard, burning a hole in mine. My smile widened a fraction as I glared pure murder at him even as I typed out a text.
"I might take that opinion with a little more weight if it didn't come from a lunatic that's escaped the asylum," I responded, keeping my voice even, but there was a snarl in my tone. The text I sent Revy was hellishly misspelled and shorthand, but I saw her reaction to it. And she reacted exactly how I wanted her to.
Tifa would gather up the LG and use them to flank the guys outside.
"Arkham Asylum is where Gotham puts those that see the truth of this city. At least, in my case," Two-Face responded, his tone just as sharp as mine. "And your reaction tells me all that I need to know. This place, 7th Heaven… it's all a lie. A farce. As are you, Saint Vergil." It was amazing how he could make the words sound like an insult. "The people that are drawn to this place like a moth to the flame? Criminals of the worst order. Murderers, rapists, drug, arms, and people dealers. Here they can hide from the eyes of justice… but not mine."
Despite my feelings about what he was saying, he did have a point there. There were a lot of criminals in Lowtown. Either on the run or with priors. That became increasingly clear when every time I ran a background check I either got a fake name, or I had someone with a history.
"That's some real delusional grandstanding you got going on there, Two-Face," I responded, my smile turning nasty. "But it still rings pretty hollow. You see, no matter how you look at yourself, what everyone else sees is a murderous piece of shit that's justifying their hard-on for crime because a criminal fucked up that face of yours. And, I gotta say -- damn, they sure did make a mess of it. I saw pictures and stuff, but in person, I can see just how fucked it really is. Actually, would you mind turning to the left a little bit? I don't want to see that shit. Hell, no one wants to see that shit."
The men behind Two-Face gave more of a reaction than Two-Face did. They shifted uneasily, two of them sharing a glance. I'm guessing I just poked a nerve. Good.
The silence dragged on and on. All the while, Revy, and Cass went to work. I saw Cass get the drop on one thug, knocking him out. Revy did the same, only in the more violent fashion of stomping on the guy's head.
"May I sit?" Two-Face questioned, his voice cold, telling me it was not a request as he gestured to a chair.
"Fuck no," I answered, setting my phone to the side as I brought up another card. There was a moment of indecisiveness on what I should use, but I settled on concrete foam. “Let me make things abundantly clear if they aren’t already -- You are not welcome here. That foul attitude of yours lost you the opportunity to some cool shit -- like a coat, or a meal. Hell, if you hadn’t been such an absolute frothing at the mouth cunt, then I might have even been willing to spot you a room.” I told him, and that much was true. If only because it would lead to Jason seeing Two-Face and finding him before he could try anything.
“You see, I’m a little upset about that too. Now I have to change my slogan to ‘Everyone is welcome here, except for Two-Face.’ Doesn’t really roll off the tongue,” I continued, staring hard at Two-Face, who looked back with half of an expression that looked like it could have been made of granite for how stony it was. “So, no. You don’t get to have a seat. You don’t get to kick your feet up. What you’re going to get is a face full of buckshot if you do not get the fuck out of here. And you can be damn sure I’m going to be aiming for the good side.”
The asshole reached out and grabbed the back of the chair, ignoring how everyone aimed their guns at him, just like we ignored his guys taking aim back. Each had an assault rifle… Tommy guns, of all things. I guess he preferred the old school mobster aesthetic. Still, between four of them… if it became a shootout, everyone was getting killed.
Slowly, tauntingly, Two-Face dragged the chair out. The wood scraping the ground echoed out loudly, breaking the tense silence before the chair audibly groaned under his weight. With practiced ease, Two-Face undid the button that held together his blazer, settling into the chair as he continued to stare me down. Testing me, to see if I really would shoot.
Cass and Revy were working through the thugs, but-
“That would be a shame,” Two-Face said, nonplussed about the threat. “Because then the rest of my gang would have to take matters into their own hands. You have good security. I heard you’ve been attacked before, and it shows. But, you do have a blind spot.” He smiled a fucking hideous smile as my guts started to tie themselves into knots. “The gate. With how busy things have gotten… they’ve gotten lax. Makes it easy to sneak in.”
My blood froze in my veins and never before had I been more thankful to Cobblepot. Keeping a single emotion on my face was a lot easier to manage than keeping my expression blank. My smile froze and the slightest touch would be enough to make it shatter like glass.
“Two-Face,” I said, pure murder in my tone. My heart rate was steady but its tempo was slowly increasing, panic setting in. “I want you to be very careful right now. If you’re implying what I think you are…” I trailed off and was interrupted by a scoff from the dead-man before me.
“Don’t bother with empty threats,” he half snapped at me, sounding pleased that he caught me off guard. I had no idea what he had snuck in. A bomb? People? Revy and Cass were done dealing with those outside of the building. That was good. With my hand still hidden, I sent Revy a message.
Cass needed to get down in the tunnels. Her ability to read body language… it could be the saving grace. If she could find the people who stood out, the LG could handle them if Cass and Tifa couldn’t. If there was a rat in the tunnels, then I wanted it found, and I wanted it to drown. I saw that they got the message, all the while Two-Face continued to gloat.
“I was curious about you. In this city, nothing is as it seems. There’s always a battle of wills… between good and evil. I’ve found in my time, that evil? Real evil? It always wears the face of good. A kind old man at the corner of the streets being a pedophile, a stalwart judge being in the pocket of some criminal, a police force acting like another gang… and a billionaire throwing around cash to buy goodwill…” Two-Face shook his head, a noise of disgust crawling up his throat.
However, a moment later, he reaffixed his eyes to mine. “Or a young man claiming to be a saint… you, I wonder… I wonder what evil you’re hiding behind that mask of yours? Are you a rapist? A murderer? Or worse?”
The most annoying thing? He had a fucking point and he was right. I became all too aware of my plans hidden in my deck. Plans to take over the city. Plans for proxies that would leave Lowtown untouchable while I basked in the good attention and praise. Cobblepot had given me the order… but, in my heart of hearts, I knew I wasn’t exactly dragging my feet to follow it.
“I never once called myself a saint,” I responded tensely. “That’s something other people have been calling me. You can ask anyone in this room. I fucking hate the nickname,” I told him, shifting the plan while Cass headed into the tunnels. Revy remained outside, acting as a guard and a surprise. I needed to buy time. Enough for Cass to find whatever Two-Face had managed to slip through security. “And you want to know the evil I’ve done?”
Two-Face actually leaned forward, “I very much do.” He sounded like he meant it too.
“I’m a member of the Penguin mob,” I confessed, feeling the people in the room shift. Two-Face’s men too. “It’s a long story, and, given everything you’ve said until now, I doubt you’re the kind of person that cares about context -- so the short of it is that I found myself five million in debt to the Penguin.”
Two-Face… it was hard to tell what he was thinking because I could only see half of his expression. Still, it looked like he was just eating it up. I’m guessing that the usual crowd he gave this little speech to was more determined to hide their misdeeds. I could understand that. Deeply. Wasn’t like I didn’t have a laundry list of stuff that I wanted to keep hidden.
“So, the saint is a mobster… oh, the irony-”
“Thing is,” I continued, purposely interrupting him. “I never made that a secret. The old guard? The ones that first came to this place? They all knew. All of them. Wasn’t like I could hide it when I was coming back from a deal shot to shit and had to sleep it off for a few weeks,” I added.
I didn’t expect him to nod, but that’s what he did. “Criminals protecting criminals is hardly a new thought, Saint Vergil,” he said, using my name mockingly. Annoying, but I could deal with that. All the while, Cass made it into the tunnels, moving in a blur. Ten thousand people… I was asking a lot of her. That much I knew. But Cass had pulled off some insane bullshit in comics, and all I could do was cross my fingers and hope that translated into reality.
“You keep saying that,” I spoke up, trying to keep him talking, “but not everyone here is a criminal. Are some of them? Absolutely. Most? They’re just down on their luck. War vets that got fucked over by the system, victims of circumstance, or people that just had a run of bad luck. Being homeless and desperate isn’t a crime, you half-faced dick.” I was trying to keep a lid on my temper, but it was difficult so some steam managed to slip between the lid.
“And to those few, Justice has failed them. It still does not excuse the abiding of criminals,” Two-Face dug his heels in. And it was then that it really started to sink in. Earlier, the guy admittedly had a point. He was right. Now, with the words that came out of his mouth, it really sunk in that the guy was crazy. An actual lunatic. Not ex-girlfriend kind of crazy, but certifiably insane.
He was just completely ignoring all context, so focused on the one thing that he actually cared about. Good and evil.
“So… what, I should have just done a background check and told them to get fucked if it came back a red flag?” I questioned and Two-Face actually nodded at that. He agreed. “Just tossed them out into the cold? Leave them to die? No sympathy? No fucking empathy?” My anger was slipping through -- he was crazy. Actually crazy. I had to remind myself that, as if that made it okay, but… it didn’t.
“We aren’t here to discuss what you should have done, Saint Vergil,” Two-Face spoke up. “We are here to discuss what you have done.”
My lips thinned and I had to fight to keep a smirk on my face rather than wear a scowl, “I’d rather talk about the things you’ve done, Half-Face,” I decided, keeping my tone light. Casual. Conversational. I saw Cass running through the tunnels, looking at everyone she walked by. She had alerted Tifa so now both of them were searching. The LG were getting involved, stealthily poking around. There was just too much room to cover.
“Because -- here’s the thing -- I happen to be of the opinion that you’re an utterly massive hypocrite,” I told him, my smirk growing a fraction when his eyes narrowed. “I’m curious -- how many people have you killed? Personally?”
“Everyone I have killed has been evil,” Two-Face decided, stated proudly almost.
“Cool motive, still murder. I would think that the former hotshot lawyer could do better than that," I pointed out. "I can promise you that you have more blood on your hands than I do on mine. I can promise you that you've done worse than me… if your whole thing is about punishing evil, then why haven't you put a gun in your mouth and eaten a bullet?"
Two-Face's hands curled into fists. It was easy to tell that he didn't care for his ideology being called into question. Too bad, because it was fucking stupid and filled with more holes than swiss cheese. So, I continued, not giving him a chance to interject, "I think all of this is a lie, Half-Face. Your whole deal of good and evil, and duality and shit -- it's all a lie. An act you're putting up to convince yourself that it's not your fault. It's not your fault that you're a murderous piece of shit. That it's not your fault that underneath all the charm, integrity, and good intentions you had as a lawyer you were just hiding what you really were -- a hypocrite, a liar, and a fucking monster."
That was the core of his character in comics. How he had once been a good man that had a bad day, lost half of his face, and had a psychotic break. And that was sad. It was really fucking sad. Just not sad enough to excuse all the murder. Not enough to excuse half of the things he'd done over the years.
A better man would want to help him despite it all. Because Two-Face had proven in times before that Harvey Dent was still somewhere inside of him.
I was not that better man. If Two-Face killed himself, I'd pat myself on my back because Gotham was better off.
"So, Harvey, is this about me, or is it about you? Will somehow exposing my non-existent crimes prove that you were right? Will it let you feel better about yourself? Will it convince you that everything you've done so far, every sin and crime, would somehow be justified? That you're in the moral black instead of the red?" I pressed, needling the holes and flaws.
Two-Face trembled in his seat, practically shaking with rage. The sight of it brought a smile to my face. And it only grew when I saw that Cassandra, Tifa, and Jason had found the surprise that Harvey had snuck in. "A bomb, huh? So, I guess risking the lives of a bunch of kids is perfectly okay if it soothes that conscience of yours. Is that what you're fucking telling me?"
There was only one. The others were still searching the place, making sure, but the man that snuck it in had been caught. One of Two-Face's goons.
"I wouldn't have killed them," Two-Face offered. "You would have if you refused." He believed that. I could see it. He really believed that all the way down to the marrow of his bones. If he had detonated the bomb, if he killed all those people… in his eyes, that blood would be on my hands. And, in a way, he might be right. If I dug my heels in and refused the offer. However, that didn't mean his hands would be as clean as he believed.
A scoff escaped me as I shook my head, my smile finally slipping. "Alright. Let's see how you like the shoe on the other foot -- your guys outside the building? They're all unconscious. Now, if you don't set down your guns, kick them over to the gentlemen on the left, I'm going to have each and every single one of them killed." I stated, staring hard at Two-Face. The men behind him shifted while Two-Face only continued to stare balefully at me.
I could see the cogs in his mind turning, trying to figure out how I had managed to get the drop on him. The silence stretched on for a painful few seconds that could have been minutes. The tension grew heavy, so heavy it made it difficult to breathe.
When he didn't respond, I reached down to my phone. Guns jerked in my direction, but no one dared to fire a shot. On my side or theirs. Picking up my phone, I dialed Revy's number and I put it on speaker mode. Revy picked up during the first ring. "You boys comfy in there?"
"Not really," I answered, "But Two-Face here seems to be holding onto certain delusions, so I'm trying to help clear them up. Are any of the guys outside in a position to say hello?" I asked, my unblinking gaze meeting Two-Faces. He was a lawyer, alright. Even with half a poker face, he made it difficult to see what he was thinking.
"Sure," Revy agreed easily, her voice ringing out from the speaker, letting the entire room hear her. She moved the phone from her mouth, but we still heard a distant. "Fucker, get up," Revy snarled, following a sound of impact before a low groan. "Say hello to your boss."
There was a beat of silence, "S-Sir, they got the drop-" a shaky man's voice echoed through the speaker, only to be cut off with a grunt of pain. The phone shifted back to Revy.
"So, what will it be, Half-Face? Surrender, or are you going to get your men killed? Remember, I'm not the one killing them. That's you with the choice you make," I questioned, rubbing salt into the wound. It was getting to him, I saw his foot begin to tap in place, half of a blank expression on his face.
The tension became flat out unbearable when a hand of his slowly reached into his suit-
"No," I snapped at him. "Do not bring that fucking coin into this. Take some responsibility for your choices. You got yourself into this situation by bringing a goddamn bomb into a homeless shelter. You got the men in this room and out there involved in this. That was you. That was all you. No flipping a coin and tossing responsibility and blood on fate. Make a decision, Harvey." To punctuate the point, I leveled my shotgun at him. "Are you going to surrender, or are people going to die? Make a choice."
No answer, his fingers inching towards his coat despite the warning. It was… it was the action of a desperate man seeking comfort. The coin was a safety blanket. A magical thing that could absolve him of responsibility. It had always been his gimmick in comics, but seeing it in person was absolutely pathetic.
"Revy?" I spoke up, making Two-Face freeze. "Please break his legs," I ordered, my voice cold. Revy didn't respond with words, but actions. A sharp scream echoed through the speakers as a crack formed in Two-Face's poker face. A second scream followed shortly after, making just about everyone in the room flinch. The four men behind Harvey more so than the others.
Two-Face got out of his chair, "Stop-"
"Then make it stop, Harvey," I interjected. "This is all you. You're the one making this happen. Make a decision, Harvey-"
"I-!" Two-Face cut himself off, his expression twisting. "I need my coin! I need to use my coin!" At any other time, my jaw would have dropped. It wasn't a grimace it was a snarl. The man sounded like he was on the verge of tears.
"I already told you that you can't have it, Harvey. You go for it, then you're the choice where everyone dies," I refused coldly. Harvey visibly ground his teeth as he glared at me with pure hatred.
"I was right!" He snarled at me, his voice thick with emotion. "You're just like the rest of this city! It's all an act. Just like Bruce Wayne. You want to be hailed as saviors while profiting from the suffering and pain of others!" He roared at me.
He was wrong about Bruce Wayne, but he hit the mark right on the head with me. I really was just like everyone else in this city. I wasn't a Bruce Wayne or Jim Gordon.
"Am I? Because, the thing is, you attacked me, Harvey. You were the one threatening to kill hundreds, maybe thousands of people for the sake of your own ego. No one made you do that. No one's making you drag this out because you can't make a choice. It's all you. It's always been you," I returned, my gun still leveled at him. I could fire once and dive behind the bar. People would die. I just had to hope that it was none of mine. "So, are you going to murder the men out there and in here? Or are you going to drop your guns?"
Two-Face face shook his head, almost to himself. "I can't answer that. I… my coin needs to decide. Fate has to decide," he answered, shaking his head.
However, the decision was made for him.
One of the mobsters shook his head before he dropped his gun and kicked it over to the LG. Then he unceremoniously dropped to his knees and put his hands behind his head and shrugged at the looks he got. "I have a daughter at home. I'm not dying here," He informed resolutely before he went ahead and laid down on the floor, just in case bullets did start flying.
Two-Face saw which way the wind was blowing. As a lawyer, I figured that he would be smart. Instead, his hand lunged for his cost jacket.
My finger curled around the trigger, only to be beaten to the punch because Two-Face went down when one of the mobsters behind Two-Face pulled the trigger, bullets ripping through him. His body jerked, and Two-Face stumbled a step forward before a red stain began to blossom across his chest. He looked down at it and touched it with a hand, pulling back to see that it was covered in blood. His eyes met mine, filled with disbelief.
He tried to take another step forward, using the chair as leverage as his hand groped at his jacket pocket. He leaned too far, tipping the chair over and he landed on the floor with a thump. My eyes darted up to the man who pulled the trigger -- a man in his thirties, with a short goatee… I didn't know him, or recognize him but he quickly dropped his gun and dropped to his knees, prompting the others to do the same.
I lowered my gun, leading the LG to do the same. I spared them all a glance as I started to walk the length of the counter, seeing pale faces all around. Their guns were at the ready… but…
I stopped in front of one and reached out to his rifle. There was fear in his eyes, and then utter mortification when I flipped the safety off of his gun. My gaze lingered on his, the action prompting the others to do the same… three of them had the safety on. In the tension, they forgot to turn it off.
Two things were abundantly clear, I thought to myself as I walked across the bar. Firstly, I needed far better security. Redundancies for lax guards, overworked guards… it would inhibit the flow of new people, but I never wanted to be in this position again. Especially with a problem I thought I had fixed. Secondly, I needed better training for my people. If they couldn't even remember to pull the safety… with the influx of people, I had gone with quantity over quality. That was a mistake I wouldn't make again.
"I… my… I need…" Two-Face rasped out, a blood-covered hand managing to pull out his coin from his pocket. He pinched it between two fingers, looking at it desperately, but he was dying. A pool of blood spread out from underneath him, rapidly bleeding out. I'm surprised he was still conscious. Though, his hands were numb, unable to flip the coin, so it just fell from his grasp when he tried.
I looked down at him and I felt… nothing. Absolutely nothing. No pity, no remorse… no satisfaction either. He was just a pain in my ass that arrived without warning and without cause, and now he was dying. I couldn't care less about him. Not after what he tried to pull.
"Please… flip...it," Two-Face rasped out, looking up at me. I looked down at the blood-covered coin for a moment before I slowly picked it up. Both sides were heads, I saw. Only one had been scorched. Fitting, I suppose. My gaze drifted back down to Two-Face, deciding what to do. I heard a door open behind me, but I only had eyes for Two-Face.
I decided to flip the coin for him. It spun in the air, sailing high up. My accuracy with my cards must have translated to my coin flips because it just dropped down to my waiting hand and I slapped it onto the back of my other hand.
Lowering the coin so he could see an unscorched heads up… I saw there wasn't a point because Two-Face was already dead.
"What an absolute pain in my ass," I remarked about the man with a shake of my head, summarizing my thoughts on him. A pathetic man that hadn't been able to accept a single wrongdoing in his life. A man that lost his way, and he could have been returned from the brink… but I didn't care enough to try. Now, even dead, he was going to be a pain in my ass.
I flipped the coin onto his body, this time it landed scorched side up. Turning around, I saw the others had run up the steps. Tifa, Cass, and Jason -- the latter was staring at the body like he couldn't believe it was true. Had Two-Face been the one to kill his father in this universe? Or was it still the Penguin, but Jason didn't know that yet? I didn't know. Or care to, really.
What an absolute pain in my ass. "Everyone? Go downstairs and seal the place up. The cops are going to be here soon enough when someone reports gunshots… or when I report the body," I ordered them, reaching over the counter to grab my phone and cards.
Tifa seemed to snap out of her shock with that. "Right, of course," she said, guiding Cass away as she seemed to stare at me. I wasn't sure why exactly, but I had a good guess. The LG all started to head down as well, though some lingered. I sent them down as well. After a moment, the only ones left were Jason and the Two-Face goons.
Jason said nothing and I was deeply, incredibly annoyed with the whole situation. Still, if he tried something… I saw Revy crossing the street, Having hung up her phone, so I could have a conversation I really didn't want to have.
The phone rang once, "You know that rat that got out of its cage? You'll never guess where it turned up,” I began, knowing who was on the other end and knowing that they would know who I was. “So, could you pass a message along to the owner? The rat ended up getting killed by a member of its pack when they figured out that they walked into a trap.”
“... Very well, I shall pass the message along,” Candy answered before the call ended. I sighed as I lowered the phone, glancing at Jason, who flat-out glared at me.
“Fuck off, Jason,” I dismissed him tiredly. “I didn’t start any of this. I just got caught in the middle. So, save the judging looks and shove ‘em up your ass. I’m not in the mood.” Probably not the best way I could have handled this, but it seemed to do the trick. The judging look vanished into a scowl before he cast a look to the few left on the ground.
I swallowed another sigh. Wondering what I should do. No. That was a lie. I knew exactly what I should do, but I was struggling against doing what I wanted to do. Altogether, there were twenty experienced gangsters that were suddenly headless. A golden opportunity dropped into my lap and Jason being here made it impossible to…
Actually, maybe I should take a page out of Two-Face’s book. “All of you… gather up your friends and get the hell away from here. My boss’s orders. Says to expect a call or something,” I told them, and the four men wasted no time leaping to their feet. They all offered small nods, knowing how things were. Revy stood at the doorway, watching them head out to the other side of the street to pick up their friends.
I could feel Jason staring a hole into me but I just shook my head as I leaned against the counter, “The previous fuck off still applies, Jason,” I said, letting the tension ease out of me. “And you should probably get out of here. The cops are going to show soon enough.”
As if to prove my point, I heard sirens in the distance.
And all I could think was that an absolute mess had been dropped into my lap.
...
This chapter was a fun one. The past couple of chapters have been about Vergil coming into his own and start making waves in the city rather than keeping his head below water.
Comments
That Warden
Honestly most of Batmans rogues should be dead but because of them being so iconic the writer always gives them a way out but if they didn't have that? Most would be dead by a bullet to the back of the head by their own henchmen.
Ironforge
Huh, seems a rather weak way for one of the longest running batman villains to go out. Since if we continue to follow this kind of logic than a great deal of the rest of his rogues should end up dead within the month. So don't really know how to feel about this besides "meh", since I get the feeling the rest of the villains won't get hit by the same. Or maybe the do and than I'll wonder why they ever became such a big deal in the first place. As this kind of ending just creates so many questions on the hows and whys for the set up.
Sif
"One of Two-Face's boys shot him in the back of the head, honest!" "You believin' this shit, Commissioner?" "I've heard stranger."
