For the third night that week, Harley had found herself sitting in her friend's room, facing a sleeping Ivy in the dead of night. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, holding them tightly to herself. It was the same position she sat in during her nightmares.

She'd done it again, she'd done something wrong and didn't even know what it was, but Joker was raving like the madman he was and as he screamed at the blonde he grew and grew until he was a frightening giant. Harley shivered and sobbed into her arms, wishing he'd go away. At the crescendo of his raging, a huge gun was pointed over her and fired, Bang, it read. It wasn't so funny.

Remembering a part of the dream, Harley shivered and fingered the bandage over her chest, pain shooting straight through her when they drifted over the bullet-wound. Sure, Ivy's medicine had helped it heal much faster, but it would still take a long time to recover.

Pressing it a little harder, the pain increased until it was almost an unbearable burning and tears slid down her pale face. Finally relenting, the young woman sobbed quietly, not wanting to wake the green woman who she wanted to curl up next to. Normally she would when she had a bad dream, but not tonight, not this week. She just sat there and let the rejection sting and sting.

Harley fell through a hole, insane laughter echoing so loudly that even her own screams of fear and pain were drowned out. After what seemed like forever she landed with a hard crack on a dark road. It was freakishly smooth, and littered with shards of glass that cut into her feet when she stood, wincing. Walking slowly and agonizingly towards the greenhouse in front of her, she called out desperately, "Ivy? Ivy please help me!" She didn't know why she was so scared anymore. She was going to be safe with the green woman. With her she always was. No one answered. Ivy was inside, Harley could see her form in the green glass, but she was ignoring the blonde's yells. "Please, Ivy! I need you." Tears felt like tracks of lava when they flowed. Finally Poison Ivy stopped tending her plants and looked out at Harley. She was black and purple, like bruises and she screeched in an inhuman voice, "I told you Harley, don't come to me. You're nothing without him and you're nothing without me. I'm sick of being strangled by you, Harley. Go away." The last word stretched out into a high-pitched scream.

Would she really do what she said? Harley wondered to herself. Would Ivy really stop taking care of her and leave if Harley showed up again so near death? Shaking her head, letting droplets fly, Harley refused to believe it. No, not her Ivy. Not ever. She wouldn't turn her out. Ivy had only said that because she was concerned. But what if she did?

Harley turned as ran as fast as her dainty, bare feet would allow, green glass cutting into her skin with every step. There was no one to turn to. She couldn't go to her mother and she didn't know where Catwoman was. There was nowhere to turn and it was so dark on this strange, smooth street. If it wasn't for the glass, it was almost like Harley was running on some sort of black material. The tears in her eyes blurred her vision until the moon in the sky became two moons. Two very strange moons. They almost looked like eyes. Skidding to a stop, Harley fell to her knees and the eyes bore into her. A smile spread under them. It unsettled her. "I've never seen you smile before," she whispered, "I don't think I like it." The giant Batman laughed a deep, throaty laugh. She had been running on his shoulder. How? As his hand lifted, ready to strike her, Harley tried to move, to get up, but she couldn't. Vines had wrapped themselves around her, holding her to the ground, they were a part of her. They were her roots. The glove came down on her, crushing the clown girl.

Her sobs increased and a groggy, concerned voice asked, "Harl? What are you doing here? Are you okay?" Frightened, she jumped at the friendly voice and looked up at Ivy, a red halo around her head. Harley choked on her answer.

"Come here, Harley," Ivy drew the girl into a hug, careful of the wound which had begun to bleed again under the red shirt the jester wore. Silently, Harley followed her friend to the large, soft bed and climbed in, sobbing quietly until green arms wrapped around her waist, holding her to the plant-woman.

There was silence for a while until Harley asked, clearly very scared of the answer, "Ivy, would you… would you really leave me if I came back again?" She couldn't see, but Ivy's face had crumpled into a guilty, pained expression before she pressed her lime lips to Harley's temple. "No, never. I was just so scared. He's going to kill you one day and you're going to let him."

Choking on her sobs again, Harley replied very softly, frightened and too aware of the truth, "I… I know."

Ivy drew her closer and cradled her, wishing that the girl in her arms would never leave again. She knew she would, scared that the girl had already accepted her fate. If she could, Ivy would've cried. Her nightmare seemed to press itself against her mind.

The one where she was running from the Joker, running from a black and purple version of herself.

The one where she was running on Batman's shoulder.