Momma's Gonna Kill for You the Whole Damn World
Harley Quinn stared at the thing in her hand, feeling nothing. For a moment, it seemed as if all her emotions were vying for control of her, cancelling each other out. Then they all flooded her at once. Joy, fear, happiness, pain, sorrow, bliss, so that she burst into tears, but couldn't have told anyone whether they were tears of delight or tears of agony. But she focused her vision, through the blurring of tears, at the thing in her hand, the little plastic thing that had suddenly changed the world, with that bright blue plus sign. Pregnant. She was pregnant.
She lay a hand on her stomach, where even now a little Joker Junior was growing, sleeping, waiting to be born. She smiled at this thought, but that immediately turned into a sob when she wondered if his Daddy would be around to see him. If he could last that long, nine months, or a little less…
She hated the way her thoughts tortured her like this. They were sadistic, just popping into her head whether she wanted them to or not. Of course he'd last. He was the Joker – he couldn't die. It just didn't happen. What would the world be like without him? It would be a bleak, dark, miserable wasteland, without joy, without laughter. Happiness itself would die. That couldn't happen. It just couldn't. Especially now that he was going to be a Daddy. He couldn't leave his baby without a Daddy. Not his baby or her.
Daddy. How would he feel about that? She honestly had no idea what his reaction would be. Had he wanted this to happen? Or would it be a nuisance to him? Was it one of his plans, or a wrench in the works that would irritate him? It was always hard to tell how he would react to news until she told him. Like when she'd told him Batman was in Arkham City and looking for him, he had beamed and giggled and said, "Of course he is, Harley girl. Can't wait for him to find me either. It'll be a blast!"
He had laughed. And then started coughing. But he'd seemed in a good mood for the rest of the evening. Harley had thought it was bad news, and that he'd react badly to it, but he still managed to surprise her. Now she thought this was good news. Did that mean he'd react badly to it?
Well, it didn't really matter. He had to know, the sooner the better. And so, steeling herself, she walked down the corridor to their room and knocked on the door.
"What?" snapped her favorite voice in the whole world.
She opened the door to see Mr. J seated opposite another guy, a potential henchman, judging from his build. "Sorry, puddin', you're busy," said Harley quickly, trying to shut the door.
"No, no, come in, Harley," he said, beckoning her. "I was just about to call for you, actually. This strapping young fellow here is interested in joining our merry band, and needs to be outfitted with all the necessary equipment pronto. Rumor is the Bat's on his way, and we need all the men we can get to fight him."
He rose from his chair, leaning heavily on his cane. "Ever fought the Bat before?" he asked the man.
"No, sir," he replied.
"Ah, you're in for a treat!" he beamed. "You never forget your first time! Take it slow, enjoy it. Savor the first blow to your face. I know I always do. And whatever you do, keep smiling. He hates that."
He laughed, which deteriorated into a choking, hacking cough. He waved his hand, doubled over on his cane coughing, and Harley seized the henchman's arm and dragged him out of the room.
"That's nothing, just a little cough," said Harley, both to reassure the henchman and herself. "Ain't nothing wrong with Mr. J, don't worry. But do worry if the Bat gets past you and he finds out. Mr. J don't tolerate failure. Now grab a gun and a mask, up the stairs and to your right, and then go wait with the others in the loading bay."
She shoved him toward the stairs and went back the way she had come. Normally she gave the men more of a pep talk, but there was something a little more important than them today. She reached the door again and paused before she knocked, feeling her stomach tightening. She was nervous. Afraid to tell him. Afraid how he would respond. Well, what was the worst he could do? No, what was the worst he would do? There was no reason to be afraid of him, not of her Mr. J. He loved her.
She nodded and knocked. "Yes?" he snarled.
She entered to see him wiping his lips with his handkerchief, still bent over his cane. She rushed over to help him into his chair. She couldn't do these kinds of things with the henchmen around – it would make him look weak and helpless. He had to be strong in front of them, had to convince them that nothing was wrong. His image was the most important thing.
He leaned back in the chair, breathing heavily. Harley kissed his forehead tenderly, stroking his hair back. "Puddin'," she breathed, sitting on the arm of the chair and embracing him. She held him against her chest, her head drooping over his, her blonde hair mixed with his green hair, kissing him tenderly. "Oh, my precious, precious puddin'."
She felt his arms come about her waist and he held her gently. There was silence as the minutes ticked by on the clock. Harley wished each minute could last forever, wished she could stop time like this, with her and Mr. J together. Then he spoke. "You sent him to the loading bay with the others?"
"Yeah," said Harley, wiping her eyes which had been spilling tears and standing up. "Got a group of fifty of them there, just like you said. You sure that's where the Bat's going to enter, baby?"
"Sure I'm sure," he replied. "I know the guy, Harley. There's vents that lead there. He loves climbing through vents. More of a rat than a bat, really."
He giggled, and Harley smiled. "I'm sure they'll stop him, puddin'."
"I hope they don't!" he laughed. "Otherwise I'll have got dressed up in my Sunday best for no reason! All dolled up with no place to go! Speaking of which, how's the makeup?"
"Fine, puddin'," she murmured, looking down at him. "Hasn't flaked much. You look just like your old self."
He grinned. "You're a sweet kid, Harley," he muttered, pinching her cheek affectionately. "Now you better go see to the men," he murmured, leaning back and shutting his eyes.
Harley opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't even begin to find the words. He noticed she was still there and opened his eyes. "Was there something else?" he asked.
"Yeah," stammered Harley. "Yeah, there is, boss. See…Mr. J…I…that is…we, I guess…um…well, we…I…something's happened, Mr. J, and I'm not quite sure how…how it…but we…y'see…I…"
He stared at her. "Something's happened?" he repeated. "Something bad?"
Her throat was dry and she licked her lips, swallowing. "No, I don't think so. But Mr. J…"
"If it's not something bad, why are you making such a big deal of telling me?" he interrupted. "Something to do with the Bat?"
"No, no, something to do with us, Mr. J," she said, hastily. "Us…we…y'see…"
"Harley, come here," he said, beckoning her. She approached him. "Come sit in Daddy's lap," he murmured, gesturing. She obeyed, curling up against him. He put his arms around her and held her close. "Now tell Daddy what it is," he whispered, stroking her hair.
"What it is," repeated Harley. "What it is…Mr. J…" She buried her face in his thin, frail chest. She breathed him in, the scent of him, and it gave her courage. She looked up into his eyes and whispered, "It's that you're going to be a Daddy."
He looked at her blankly. She reached into her pocket and withdrew the test. "I'm pregnant, Daddy," she murmured.
"Pregnant," he repeated, looking from the test to her and back.
"Yeah. I'm going to have your baby, Mr. J," she murmured. "Don't that make you happy? If it don't, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, it was an accident, and I don't know how it happened, I don't remember us doing anything different, and I took my pill regularly, just at the same time as I always do, and…"
He clapped his hand over her mouth suddenly. "Stop talking, Harley," he murmured. "Just let me think."
She was silent, watching the gears turn in his head as his hand dropped down from her mouth to rest upon her stomach. Then suddenly and without warning, he laughed. Hysterically, maniacally, a big, booming, insane laugh. It was checked by a cough, horrible and racking, bending him double. But the coughing stopped and the laughing continued.
"Harley," he murmured at last, beaming at her. "Harley, Harley, Harley," he murmured, cuddling her against him. "You stupid, silly, little baby. Why were you so nervous about telling me? This is great news!"
"Yeah? You really think it is, Mr. J?" she asked, hopefully.
"Sure I do, pumpkin pie," he murmured. "But you'll have to take it easy, pooh. We need to take care of Joker Junior. No fighting the Bat for you for a little while, I think. And no playtime for us, at least, not with the hitting and everything. What else can you not have when you're pregnant aside from violence? Coffee, I think?"
"Puddin'," breathed Harley, beaming. "Oh, puddin', I'm going to have your baby! It's like a dream come true! Oh, I love you, Mr. J!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck.
"We should tell Batsy when he gets here!" laughed Joker. "He should buy me a bottle of champagne! None for you, baby, you're pregnant. Maybe I'll give him a cigar. We got any exploding cigars around here, pooh?"
"I'm sure I can find some, puddin'," she replied.
"Maybe that can be my opening line! 'Hey Bats, you wouldn't hit a father-to-be, would you?' That'll knock his socks off, just before I knock his block off!" He cackled, then started coughing again. This time he coughed up blood, and Harley rushed to put a bowl under his lips. She stroked his hair back as he choked and gagged on the blood, shushing him gently.
When he was finished, Harley drew the bowl away as he wiped his mouth and chin with his handkerchief. She didn't speak as she took it over to the sink and rinsed it out. His illness overshadowed everything, even this joy.
"You'd better go see to the men, Harley," he murmured.
"Yeah, ok," she agreed, heading for the door.
"Harley," he called. She turned and he beckoned her back over to him. He lay a hand gently on her stomach. "Nice work, kiddo," he murmured.
Her eyes filled with tears. "Mr. J," she whispered, bending down to kiss him. "Oh, Mr. J, I love you."
"Yeah, I know, kiddo," he murmured. "Don't cry, sweets. You're going to have a baby. You should be happy."
"I am happy, puddin'," she murmured, leaning her forehead against his. "I just…I'm worried about you, sweetie. I just wish I knew you were going to be ok."
"Of course I'm going to be ok, pooh," he murmured. "This is nothing, just a little cough. I'll find a cure, don't worry. Trust Daddy, hmm?"
"I do trust you, Mr. J," she whispered. "I mean, you wouldn't leave us, would you? You couldn't do that, not to me, could you? And not to…not to J.J. He needs his Daddy. And I need my Daddy."
"Well, Daddy's not going anywhere, pooh bear," he said, patting her head gently. "I'll always be here. I'll be here to watch little J. J. shoot his first cop, and blow up his first building, and have his first fight with the Bat. Maybe we'll start him out on the Boy Blunder though."
"Promise?" she whispered, shutting her eyes tightly. "Promise you won't leave us, puddin'?"
"Promise," he murmured, taking her face in his hand and looking into her eyes. He kissed her tenderly, the tenderest kiss Harley could ever remember him giving her. She held his other hand against her stomach, feeling complete, feeling whole and happy with her family around and inside of her.
"Go see to the men, Harley," he murmured, leaning back and shutting his eyes.
She nodded. "Anything I can do for you before I go, puddin'?" she asked.
"Nope. Just take care of my baby," he said, grinning.
She beamed. His baby. God, that sounded wonderful. His baby. Mr. J's baby. The Joker's baby. She was going to be mother to the Joker's baby. The thought made her practically skip down the hall, but she restrained herself. She couldn't exert herself too much in her condition – pregnant with the Joker's baby. The world really was a wonderful place. And at this moment, she felt sure Mr. J was really going to be ok. He was going to recover from this silly little illness, and be a great Daddy to his baby. They'd have such a fun time raising little J. J. They'd be such good parents. He'd grow up into such a strong, clever, handsome man, just like his Daddy. And they'd grow old together, and when they finally did have to die, they'd die together. Not right now, and not like this – not with Mr. J coughing his guts out and leaving Harley alone to raise their baby by herself. No, that couldn't happen. It wouldn't happen. Mr. J had promised. He always kept his promises. Always.
"You ok, Harley?" asked the henchman guarding the entrance to the loading bay.
"Never better, Larry," she retorted, beaming.
"How's J?" he asked.
"He's fine," she replied. "Nothing wrong with him, not really. He'll be better in no time."
"Yeah? He looked pretty sick to me."
"Well, you ain't a doctor, are you?"
"No."
"No," she agreed. "So why don't you go find one? Mr. J needs a checkup. And so do I."
"You? What's wrong with you, Harley? J's disease contagious?"
"Nah. I mean, I did get it from him, but it ain't a disease. It's a precious miracle, and a cause for celebration."
The henchman stared at her blankly. "I'm in a very delicate condition, Larry," said Harley.
He still stared at her, clueless. She sighed. "Never mind. Just go and find a doctor. There's gotta be at least one in this hellhole, right? Find one and bring 'em back. Oh, and Larry, tell Curly we're going to need healthier food tonight. Y'know, greens and stuff. And lots of it. I'll be eating for two. You go handle that, and I'll start picking out the nursery. The pitter patter of little feet is just what this dump needs to cheer it up!"
He stared at her. "Harley, are you…"
"I'm gonna have a baby, Larry!" shrieked Harley in delight, hugging him. "I'm gonna have his baby! Oh God, it's the happiest day of my life!"
"Gee, Harley, congrats," murmured the henchman. "I'm happy for you."
"You don't look it," she said, frowning. "What's wrong?"
"Well, it's just…I mean, won't it be difficult? Y'know, taking care of a baby on your own once J…"
"Once he what?" snapped Harley.
"Well…once J…dies," finished Larry.
Harley glared at him. Then she whipped out her gun and shot him repeatedly in the face. "Gee, sorry about that, Larry, but y'know, women in my condition have these terrible mood swings," muttered Harley, sheathing her gun as the body fell to the ground. "And it was a real stupid thing for you to say. Mr. J dying! The Joker, dying! Never heard such crap in my entire life. Guess I'll have to find a doctor myself. Have to do everything around here, a woman in my condition. It's crazy, I tell ya. Absolutely nuts."
The End