Ch. 1: Water Birth
Rebirth
Blinding light; a pure white, clean ray flooding within the broken windows and between the rotting wood planks. A broken body lurches off the ground inhaling heaps of oxygen, kick starting raw adrenaline that helps urge the limbs to animate.
The woman gazed around the room taking ragged breaths, wide eyes darted around the room on high alert. Dust, weather worn walls, the distant sound of dripping water, the smell of burnt rubber and dirt, and the area was desolate and hazard ridden. Ignorant of her surroundings, she grew scared, her bones and her muscles ached. She tilted her head upwards and squinted through sunlight to see a broken skylight.
Given the broken glass around her, and embedded in her forearms, she synthesized that she fell through it. How or why was beyond her. She tried to stand but experienced a sharp pain in her knee, a large shard of glass jutting out of her flesh, dry blood clotting on her leg.
She let out a helpless whine, confusion, pain, frustration all creating an emotionally destructive whirlwind that threatened to cripple her. She knew that the wound wasn't fatal but it would be best to remove the glass later, she didn't want to risk bleeding out. Shocks of blonde strands congealed with dirt and blood fell in her eyes and she began a sideways crawl towards a support beam and stood on her good leg.
Dressed in a thin black dress she wondered what the hell she was doing before the accident. She couldn't exactly recollect her own name, and had no idea where she was or how she'd gotten there. Judging by the blood on her leg and her attire, she'd been out for an entire day or more, and was more than likely making her way to an event before the accident.
She looked around again, her vision adjusting to the light, and spotted a purse hanging by a strap from a loose metal rod on the wall. The dangling accessory was open and facing the ground where underneath its contents spilled out onto the dirt and glass filled floor.
The purse has to have a wallet or something in it that would yield some answers to an ever growing list of questions, but her leg had to be solved first. A voice in the back of her head urged her to make a splint, but with what? Plenty of planks and beams laying around, one of those and some binding should suffice. There was a long enough piece of wood just out of her grasp and a few scattered pieces of twine in the corner.
With some careful crawling and scooting she managed to acquire the needed materials. She had to straighten out of her, which wasn't exactly a pleasant task but she needed to move fast. She hissed, grunted and groaned as she flexed out the wounded limb, sliding the wood underneath it.
Tears started to form as she began to wrap the twine around her leg and the board to secure her leg into the makeshift splint. The woman sat there for a second to catch her breath before crawling back to the support beam and standing again, her aggravated leg now more sore.
At a steady hobble she made her way to the purse contents, footing them around to get a better view. No wallet, a money clip, some make-up, no I.D or driver's license, not much of anything that she could work with except for a black flip phone that appeared as if it were still functional.
Moving it near her with her foot she slowly sat on the ground and went through the device. It was a disposable phone, she could tell that much by looking at it. Flipping it up the screen lit up and tiny bars in the upper corner of the screen indicated that she had service. She went to dial 911 but stopped, she didn't know how all of this happened, and although she hurt badly she had suspicions.
No one has found her yet and it's been a couple of days, as a missing person there'd be a search, well, only if she had daily obligations in which an absence would be a suspicion.
Along with the general items in the purse a handgun among with them. No identification, a gun, no help, this entire situation wasn't sound. The phone had two dialed numbers, but only one had corresponding text messages. She read over them seeing the name Bruce Wayne, her head began to hurt. They were supposed to meet at his house around the approximate time she experienced the accident.
She went through more of the things and obtained a crumpled piece of legal paper with an address on it, she knew where this was. Peering outside it was a couple blocks away from there, but she was in no shape to walk. Sighing she dialed the number and waited.
"Hello?" The voice of an older man answered.
"H-hello I'm looking for a Bruce...Wayne" she responded as if it were a question
"Just a second, may I ask whose calling" the accent was clearer as he spoke
"Uh" she thought back to the text "Harleen?"
There was a pause "Just a moment" after that silence
Did he hang up? Harleen's heart began to race with panic until she heard a click. "Harley where are you?" a gruff voice demanded.
She let out a relieved sigh into the phone "I'm in an abandoned building on...Yonkers and 4th...I'm hurt bad and-"before she could elaborate she was interrupted.
"I'm on my way" a click then silence.
Harleen, Harley, a nickname, she began to murmur to herself "Harleen, Harleen...ah...shit what's my...uh Quincy...Quentin..."she sat there and began to think. Looking down at her hands she frowned, her nails were painted red and she had a variety of scars on her arms, legs and god know where else, but these looked old. Letting out a frustrated groan she brought her body to the ground, closing her eyes and calming herself. She let sleep take her, and hoped for the best.
ooooo
Her body still felt sore, but she was no longer on the floor, the surface under her was soft and very warm. As she began to stir voices could be heard through the wall, they sounded argumentative but at this point in time that was the least of her concern. She was still covered in dirt and her leg still injured but she was out of the building, with help, she hoped.
She tried to go back to sleep because her head began to hurt, but loud footsteps moved out of the room and into the floor with a loud thump.
"How'd you sleep" a deep, even voice asked in the darkness of the room.
She never really looked at her new surroundings. She sat up and glanced around the room warily, the man took a step towards her. The dark room looked like a side room to an office, modest furnishings and lonely house plant. The man who entered the room was tall and well-built, dark hair, light eyes, and dressed in all black. Attractive, she thought cocking an eyebrow, and by the looks of this place he was also loaded. The walls in this little side room were painted a burgundy red, the plant was real and the air smelled clean. If this room looked nice, the rest of the place must look more sophisticated. What was his association with her?
"I've probably had better….and uh...if you don't mind, can you fill me in on a couple things" she paused "And my knee-"
"It will all be taken care of….what do you remember?" he asked walking back into an office and returning with a few medical materials, and a small plastic tarp. Setting everything up accordingly he looked at Harley's leg "That looks rough" kneeling in front of her he got a better look. "I'll have to-"
"Do whatever, but I still have a lot of questions Mr.-"
"Bruce Wayne"
"That's not ringing any bells for me" she murmured.
"What do you mean?" he looked up at her
"I don't know a Bruce Wayne, I can barely remember my own name, and I have no Idea how I ended up in that building"
"Are you saying that you don't remember anything? Sense when? What's the last thing you remember?"
Harleen paused "...Starting a new job at the asylum...and-"
"Harleen…do you know what year it is?"
She looked at him, her mouth opened to say something but she stopped, for some reason she couldn't remember.
Bruce looked at Harley in a loss for words. She had amnesia and it was rooted deep. She gazed at him her blonde eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
What happened?
A/N: Chapters will be longer when the story continues IF the story continues, feel free to comment on any mistakes or inconsistencies...don't be too harsh about it please. I'm looking for feedback on the stories quality and if I should continue or not.
More to come soon
Maybe
