Harvey took off his belt, his roommate's voice rather suddenly at his back, mixed with the laughter of several on their floor. Belts don't count, they're accessories. You don't get this strip poker thing do you? He tossed it to the side and enjoyed the clatter of metal drowning the quip's echo out.

The drunk comment made his fingers tighten around his fork, a pause and flare of anger at nothing in particular. He didn't want to think about it. "Why me?" He asked, about the struggle, about that night and everything he wanted to forget but didn't as some traitorous part of him held on. He asked the same question to the Bat just before the vigilante cheated death- cheated what was fair. Why her- but he knew that. Rachel Dawes was expendable. He stabbed at the chicken, just barely processing the clown's awkward reception of the compliment, just like the water after Crane's gassing. Like human kindness alluded him.