Harvey is bound to live in this personal hell for the rest of his miserable existence, the promise of sanctuary now a distant cry. He was foolish to believe in such. He sees it clearly, but is too weak to accept it.

He desperately wants to wipe that stupid look off your face, to shut off the self-loathing thoughts you awaken in him when you look at him like that. Weren't you true, accepting, and kind? Or did he make believe and idolize you now when he desperately needed to hold onto something? He hears Two-Face laughing at him, mocking him for clinging to the past—the past Harvey held dear and Two-Face needed to erase.

Is he really that hard to look at? Why does your gaze shift to look at anything but him? Why does your body tremble, why are your pupils wide with fear, why is your breath shallow, why are you standing stiff as a corpse? He always admired how expressive you were before, but now it feels like it will kill the remains of his damned soul.

"They can't even look at us! How dare they? Make them respect us, fear us! Show them what we really are!", Two-Face chants, using Harvey's vulnerability against him like a demon preying on unfortunate souls, miserable and utterly alone. "You are embarrassing us. Let me deal with this."

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Harvey repeats like a madman as he grips the hair on his head, the pain subduing the voices that torment his will. But they are much stronger than he is and he is starting to believe them. Why is he even fighting?

His eyes find yours, and for a split moment, he hopes they hold sympathy for the man with a broken face and a broken soul. He would be content with just that, even if you could never look fondly at him again. A man like himself can't ask for more.