Nolan didn't know what was going on, truly. His life had been a rollercoaster from the start but this? This situation was something else entirely.
Of all the things he'd expected when entering Arkham Asylum, befriending one of Gotham's most notorious split personalities hadn't been on the list.
'What is even happening right now?' Quentin muttered.
'This guy could actually be a decent ally,' Vae offered, a little too casually.
'Or he might poison our soup tomorrow because a god damned coin told him it was a good idea,' came Nolan's own dry contribution.
"Checkmate," said a familiar, gravel-edged voice.
Nolan blinked, pulled from his inner debate. He looked down at the board in front of him and frowned. Damn. He hadn't even seen the knight slip into place.
Harvey well, Harvey today, not the other one leaned back with a pleased smirk, flipping his coin once before tucking it away.
Yes. This was his life now. Playing chess in Arkham's grimy rec room with Two-Face and somehow losing.
It was weird. Objectively weird. But the two had grown… close. If that word even meant anything in a place like this. There were only so many people to talk to, and most of them either barked at walls or talked to the dead. In comparison, Harvey Dent was practically a socialite.
They reset the board in relative silence. The sound of plastic pieces scraping across the board filled the dead air. Then Harvey looked up, his expression unreadable.
"So," he said. "What happens if you get out?"
Nolan stiffened slightly, keeping his hands steady as he adjusted a pawn. "I haven't thought that far ahead."
Harvey raised an eyebrow. "Come on, no plan? No 'once I'm out I'm gonna buy a castle and fake my death' kind of thing?"
'Feels like he's digging but, I might be paranoid,' Quentin muttered
'Keep it vague,' Kieran advised. 'Always keep it vague.'
Nolan gave a tight smile. "Continue my business, no cops just some peace and quiet."
Harvey grunted. "You make a shit liar for someone with a fake name."
Nolan didn't respond.
They played in silence for a moment. Then Harvey broke it again, his voice lower, almost contemplative.
"You think that hotel of yours is still standing?"
Nolan glanced up. "The Continental?"
"Yeah. Saw it in the paper," Harvey said. "Big headline. Fancy name. Real fancy name to throw around in this city." He gave Nolan a sidelong look. "A shame, though. All that glitz, and now the guy who owns it is sitting in Arkham with me. PR nightmare."
Nolan shrugged, noncommittal. "If it's strong, it'll survive. If not…"
"Someone'll burn it down," Harvey finished with a grin. "This city eats weakness hey maybe I will buy it." He offered Nolan a glittering smile
Nolan's gaze drifted back to the board. "You can try."
Harvey chuckled, his fingers dancing over a bishop. "You might've come in here all bent and bruised, kid, but I gotta say… you're starting to sound a little more Arkham than Gotham."
Nolan allowed a faint smile to creep onto his lips, perhaps that was the point.
"To be clear I was not beaten or bruised when I came in here."
"Ha! Gotham cops sure have gone soft then."
***
The next morning, the transport van rumbled through Gotham's streets once again, its reinforced frame shuddering slightly with every pothole. Nolan sat with his wrists chained to his waist, his expression unreadable as the skyline blurred by behind steel mesh.
'Feels like we live in this damn van,' Quentin muttered.
'You ever think about hijacking one of these?' Vae offered with casual venom.
'I've thought about worse,' Nolan replied under his breath.
By the time they reached the courthouse, Nolan had steeled himself into silence. The routine was familiar now processing through security, heavy boots clacking down marble hallways, the brief but disorienting flashes of flashbulbs from reporters as he was led inside.
He was once again dressed in a pressed suit, courtesy of his "legal team," though his cuffs and chains tarnished the presentation.
The courtroom was smaller this time. No crowd. No press. Just business.
He was seated beside his lawyer, the same sharply dressed man who had flashed that knowing smile at arraignment. The man leaned over and murmured, "Morning, Kieran. Today's the preliminary hearing. No jury. Just a judge, prosecution, and us. They're gonna try to prove they've got enough to take this thing to trial."
Nolan gave a faint nod. "And do they?"
The lawyer smirked slightly. "Depends how good the judge's coffee was this morning."
The judge entered moments later, a tall man with graying temples and a thin mouth. Nolan didn't recognize him but he knew the Underpass Society would be digging through his file even now.
"Court is now in session for the case of the State of Gotham versus Kieran Everleigh," the bailiff announced.
The prosecutor stood first, a stern woman in her forties with fire in her eyes and a folder in her hand.
"Your Honor, we believe the evidence presented thus far surveillance, eyewitness accounts, financial tracing, and documentation retrieved from both public and criminal archives clearly establishes probable cause for Mr. Everleigh to stand trial on the charges of grand larceny, conspiracy, racketeering, and murder."
She listed the crimes cleanly, clinically, like she'd said them a hundred times before. Nolan barely blinked.
Then came the crossfire.
Nolan's lawyer stood, calm as ever. "Your Honor, we respectfully argue that much of the so-called evidence presented is circumstantial. Mr. Everleigh is a businessman, a visible figure in Gotham's recovering infrastructure. He runs a respected hotel and has no prior violent history. These claims are painting my client as a criminal mastermind without providing a single unbroken chain of evidence directly linking him to the crimes listed."
The judge interjected, "What about the security footage?"
The lawyer shrugged. "Grainy. Obscured. No hard identification. If we started sending people to trial based on shadowy silhouettes and gossip, half the city would be behind bars."
A pause.
Then the judge said, "I've reviewed both submissions. The prosecution has enough to establish probable cause. This case will proceed to trial."
Nolan didn't flinch.
'Expected,' said Kieran coolly.
'It's just a stage,' Quentin added. 'Keep your head down. We're still in play.'
'We're just getting started,' Vae said.
The judge looked at Nolan. "Mr. Everleigh, you will remain in psychiatric care at Arkham Asylum pending the outcome of your mental health evaluation and until the trial begins."
He banged the gavel once.
—
A/N: gasp what's this a mc that's not a god of chess???