Harvey nearly punched him right there but turned instead, sitting down at the makeshift mess that was their table, dropping his coin on the cold surface. He didn't think, didn't dwell on either/or, just watched as it slowly twirled to reveal the thick char, the remnants of his former life. It had been over half a year. Half a fucking year.

"Why did you do this?" He asked without turning, gesturing vaguely to the window, the riots. Was it all for Batman? Boredom? Hell, what did it matter? Enough to waste a piece of clothing.