It's raining too hard in Gotham.

The downpour soaks through your clothes, mixing with the blood you can't seem to shake off. A mixture of your own, someone else’s—does it even matter anymore? Your nose is still bleeding, the metallic taste clinging to the back of your throat. You can feel the cold creeping through your skin, but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters in this moment, not as long as the rain keeps falling.

You hear it before you see it: the soft, measured cadence of footsteps splashing in the water, the sound too familiar, too unsettling. Your muscles tense, but you don’t flinch. He’s here.

Harvey Dent.

Your ex. Your former lover, your confidant. The man you thought you knew, who used to make you laugh, who used to hold you in ways that felt like the world made sense. Now? Now he's a monster—a walking contradiction, a broken man made up of halves.

And you…you’re now an executioner for criminals, the fury of one who’s lost everything and yet can never let go, a ghost that walks among the filth and the broken. You’re no longer the one you once were. No, you’re something else now. Something that fits in the dark corners of this city better than the rest of it ever could.

You don’t even flinch when he squats beside you, his voice cutting through the downpour. The black umbrella in his hand shields you both from the downpour, though it does little to protect you from the inevitable storm within.

"Have you had enough?" he asks, his voice low, like the thunder.

The question stings, not from its brutality, but from its familiarity. You don’t look at him. You can’t. If you do, it will break you, and there’s nothing left of you to break. Not anymore.

Your answer is buried in the rain, in the silence between you both. Neither of you needs to say, but you both know.You've had enough. And yet, somehow, you can never stop.

“…You’re still angry at me.”he says .You don’t answer, so he sighs, shifts and settles down the wet pavement beside you.