Will You Still Love Me...?

I've seen the world.

Done it all.

Had my cake now.

Harvey Dent, the one and only Two-Face; Gotham City super criminal, dragged his feet into his hideout. The sound of the wooden door slamming shut was followed by a thump of his back against it. Through his heavy breathing and painful expression, he reached inside his pocket to fiddle with his coin. It almost acted like a stress ball. He shut his eyes and grit his teeth. Damn, that Bat could put up a fight. But Harvey was able to escape while his henchmen got beaten to a pulp. His free hand slid across his stomach to the side of him where a bruise was forming from the impact of Batman's boot. He flinched at his own touch then removed his hand. He probably broke a rib. A crimson liquid dripped to the ground. His eyes opening at the sound, he soon located the wound which was on his upper arm. Harvey groaned and stumbled over to the living room. That's when he noticed his radio was still on, a female voice emanating from it. He didn't really pay attention to the song as he made his way to the bathroom to retrieve a first aid kit. He fumbled through the cabinet above him, grunting at the pain stretching caused him. Finally, he grabbed it and threw it onto the countertop. He took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. Unbuttoning his shirt, he saw even more bruises upon him. He rolled his eyes and slipped off his shirt and tie, throwing them onto the ground with his jacket. He found disinfectant and began applying it to his various wounds. He let out a short yell of pain as the stinging sensation only seemed to make it worse, especially when he had to dab the disinfectant on the scarred side of his forehead. He stopped, gripping hard onto the edge of the counter with gritted teeth. He let out a pained exhale before looking up at his own reflection in the mirror.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?

It was as if the radio was mocking him. He shot a glare towards the living room, unable to see the stereo itself from his angle. With a roll of his eyes, he looked back at the scarred reflection in front of him. He tried to block out the lyrics once more. He slowly reached up to touch his bad cheek then stopped and put his hand back on the counter. He shook his head and took bandages out of his first aid kit, unraveling them. He then started wrapping up the cut on his arm when the lyrics made his heart skip a beat.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

He paused, then slowly returned to wrapping up his wound. He wasn't beautiful anymore, that's for sure. He used to have women swoon over him every other day. Now look at him. He's a monster.

He cut off the bandage and tossed it into the empty sink. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. For some reason, he couldn't stop glancing at Two-Face in his reflection. He gulped silently then looked down to see what else he could use to heal himself. It would've been much easier to do if someone was there to help him. He didn't mind, though. He liked the solitude. But inside, he did feel lonely at times. He shuffled through the first aid kit when suddenly that dreadful chorus came back around.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?

Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?

I know you will.

I know you will.

I know that you will.

Oh, do you? Harvey snorted in annoyance. This singer knows that her lover will love her even after those things? Please! He looked back up at Two-Face. No one loved him after... the incident. No one loved him after he became... broken. He reached up to the mirror before him and covered the scarred side of his face with his hand. His eye widened slightly at the memories that began consuming him. Why couldn't he go back to how things were before?

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

He just stared into the mirror of a man that he once was. All throughout the bridge of the song, he thought of the women who came in and out of his life and the sorrow that filled him throughout the horrible ways they left him. Rachel... and... Pamela. He shut his eyes, refusing to let them well up. He let go of the mirror and swept his hand across the countertop, knocking over the first aid kit along with soap and other various items. He stared into the sink where the bandages laid.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?

Obviously not. No one could ever love him again. Not now. Not after everything he's done. Not after what the incident did to him. He was sure of it.

Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul?

He was about to relate that line to himself as well but then he remembered Pam. His grip got tighter on the counter. Harvey didn't do much after Pamela broke down. In fact, he didn't do anything. In retrospect, it wasn't like he could but... he could've at least reached out to her. He could've at least visited her in that hell hole of an asylum. He... of course he loved her after her accident, right? Why didn't he do anything? He just moved on. He thought she couldn't be saved. That's why she hates you, Harvey. That has to be why. Why should he be loved if he did the same thing to Pam? He doesn't deserve it.

I know you will.

Rachel is dead.

I know you will.

Pamela hates him.

I know that you will.

It's over.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

His knees gave out and he fell to the hard floor, his grip slipping from the countertop.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?

Two-Face was scolding him for being so weak in the back of his mind but Harvey pushed him away. He didn't understand. He never would. His hands fell to his lap as he shut his eyes tight, biting his lip.

Will you still love me when I'm not young and beautiful?