Chapter Text
Talon was broken. Fractured in body and mind. The 17-year-old assassin lay still and alone on the floor of the room they kept him in after missions. It was just cold enough to limit his body's functions, not cold enough to turn him into the corpse he actually was. The corpse he'd been since the Court of Owls murdered him and filled his veins with electrum.
An involuntary shiver and a small whimper escaped him as he felt the slashes on his back knitting themselves back together.
His golden eyes flashed open.
“Shh!” Talon hissed. “Do you want them to hear and punish us more?”
His eyes closed. “No,” he whispered in a child-like voice.
“You deserve this. You screwed up the mission,” Talon continued severely.
“I'm sorry…” The childish voice sounded near tears.
“Quiet, Dickie. You're pathetic,” Talon said scornfully. He sat up slowly. His back was fully healed now, and his broken wrist was twisting itself back into place. He grimaced, but didn't make a sound. The pain had taught him his lesson. He wouldn't fail a mission again.
Several hours later, an owl-masked figure opened his door to take him to the preparation room. The warmth of the new space thawed his frigid limbs. Talon allowed himself to enjoy it privately as he efficiently dressed in his uniform, checked his weapons, and put on the goggles that protected his sensitive eyes. His metal claws clicked as he made his final adjustments. Fully dressed, he stood stiffly at attention, awaiting his orders.
The Head of the Court entered and stood with his hands clasped behind his back.
“This is your last chance, Gray Son. Fail again, and you will regret it.”
Talon bowed his head slightly in acquiescence.
“Your target is Harvey Dent. The crime empire he is building is interfering with our long-laid plans.”
“Understood, sir,” Talon said flatly.
“The address is 22 Twin Oaks Street. Here's a picture of your target.”
Talon carefully studied the photo the Owl held up. He noticed that the man's face had two very different sides: one handsome, one scarred and hideous.
“It shall be done,” he promised, then leapt from the high window. He somersaulted through the air and hit the ground in a silent run.
Two-Face's men didn't see or hear a thing before Talon attacked. He threw three knives, and each one embedded in a goon’s neck. Several more opened fire, but Talon was too quick. He flipped, spun, and sliced two heads off at once with his swords. Four men tried to surround him, but he backflipped over their heads and stabbed one in the spine. As that man crumpled with a scream, another grabbed Talon from behind. When the assassin twisted around, his hood and goggles were yanked off. The light hit his golden eyes with blinding brightness.
Using his other senses and instinct built by years of training, he managed to take down the rest of them. Surrounded by sounds of pain and death, Talon knelt to search the ground for his hood. As his claws scrabbled against the bloody floor, he heard approaching footsteps.
“What the hell happened here?” a gravelly voice demanded. The figure stopped in the doorway at the sight of the massacre that had occurred.
Talon rose and strode forward. “Harvey Dent, the Court of Owls has sentenced you to death,” he said with no intonation.
“But I'm not Harvey Dent. I'm Two-Face,” the man growled.
Talon hesitated, blinking rapidly.
“He's so young,” another voice broke in, smoother and almost kind. “Kid, you don't have to do this. Why don't you stick with us? We'd take better care of you than the Court.”
Inside Talon's head, Dickie turned toward Harvey's compassion like a flower leaning toward the sun.
“Let's flip for it.” The gravelly voice was back. “Heads he lives, tails he dies.” There was a sound of a coin being flipped.
Talon didn't wait to hear the verdict before leaping into action. As he raced forward, Two-Face lifted his .22s and began shooting. Half-blind, Talon could not evade as well as usual, and he caught two bullets: one in the leg, one in the shoulder. He fell, but the wounds began to heal instantly.
Two-Face took off running down the hall. Talon followed with a slight limp. The chase led him into what used to be a commercial kitchen. Movement caught his eye, and he flung a knife. He heard Two-Face cursing and the sound of a metal door opening. Talon raced around the corner and flung himself at the criminal. Two-Face barely moved in time, Talon's knife slashing his arm as he stepped aside. The assassin tumbled through the metal door and immediately knew he'd made a mistake as cold air surrounded him. Bang! The heavy door of the walk-in freezer slammed closed.
Talon threw himself against the door repeatedly, but it was locked from the outside. He screamed, pounded, and clawed at it like a wild animal until the cold seeped into his bones and he lowered himself slowly to the floor. He sat still, his head bent, his long black hair falling down around his face. He felt his brain functions slowing until he slipped into unconsciousness.
“Kid, wake up,” a faint voice called. A warm hand patted his frozen cheek. Talon stirred, still too cold to move much.
“Sorry I had to tie you up,” Harvey continued. “But I couldn't have you attacking me again. You got me pretty good last night.” The man gestured at his bandaged arm and hand as Talon watched him through slitted eyes. He was slowly becoming more aware again. He could feel tight cords restraining his wrists and ankles. He flexed his fingers and realized his clawed gloves had been removed, along with all his weapons.
“Harvey…Dent. The Court…of Owls has…sentenced you…to…death,” Talon rasped through half-frozen vocal cords.
Harvey sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Listen, can we talk, before…the other guy comes back?”
Talon cocked his head to one side questioningly.
"We could give you a better life than you've had with the Court. A warm place to stay, comfortable clothes, money to buy whatever you wanted. We wouldn't beat you or torture you. But you have to promise to stop trying to kill us and start working with us instead.” Harvey kept his good side turned towards Talon as he spoke to set him at ease.
“The Court…owns me.”
“Not anymore. You're mine now.” A hint of a growl came into the man's voice. He cleared his throat and shook his head slightly.
“Are you hungry, thirsty?” he asked after a moment.
Talon stared at him. “I don't eat or drink. I'm undead.”
“Right,” Harvey said awkwardly. He reached out slowly and ran his thumb along one of the black veins spidering up from Talon's jaw to his cheek.
“Damn,” he said softly.
The assassin shuddered, and suddenly tears were rolling down his cheeks.
“They killed me and…and turned me into…this!” Dickie choked on a sob.
Harvey drew back in surprise.
“Please, mister…untie me,” the boy cried, writhing in his seat.
Harvey's eyes narrowed. “What is this, some kind of trick?”
“No, I swear… I won't… hurt you again. I'm sorry!”
“What’s your name?” Harvey asked, frowning.
“Dickie,” the boy replied, sniffling.
The man's face shifted, understanding lighting both his eyes: one warm brown, the other bulging red and yellow.
“There are two of you in there.” Two-Face's mouth twisted into a gruesome smile. “I think you and I are two of a kind.”
Dickie gulped and looked up at the monster.
“Are you…going to hurt me?” he whispered.
Two-Face leered at him for a moment. “Not if you're a good boy,” he said, petting Dickie's head roughly.
“I can be good,” the boy said eagerly.
“Then you'll stay with us?”
“If I don't go back, the Court will just send another Talon.” Dickie shivered. “They'll find me and…and punish me. I failed my mission…again!” New tears began to well up in his eyes. “And the new Talon will kill you.”
“Stop blubbering, kid. We'll just have to make sure they don't find us, won't we?” Two-Face growled in what was meant to be a soothing tone.
“We can't hide from them! They'll find us,” Dickie whimpered. He began to quote a poem softly and rhythmically, rocking back and forth and staring blankly. “Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed. Speak not a whispered word of them, or they'll send the Talon for your head.”
Two-Face lost his patience. “Dickie, go to sleep!” he snapped. “Let me speak to Talon.”
The assassin's eyes fell closed, then opened again, steady and focused.
“Talon, do you know how to evade the Court?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll pay you well if you help me,” Two-Face offered. “Or you can go back to them to take your punishment.”
Talon hesitated. He had never been offered a choice before. He only ever did as he was told.
“Let the coin decide,” he finally said softly.
Two-Face grinned and his eyes gleamed. “I like the way you think, kid. Let's leave it to chance. Heads you stay with me, tails you go back to the Court. Agreed?”
Talon nodded, holding his breath as Two-Face pulled the silver dollar from his pocket. With an expert flick of his thumb, the coin flew high, spinning in a silver blur. He caught it and flipped it onto the back of his hand. Talon leaned in to see.
“Heads,” he breathed. “I stay.”