"Scream all ya want Harley, nobody can hear you now!" The Joker's breath was rank and fetid as he bent over her, greasy green locks unkempt and long, their tips just brushing against her nose as he flashed the knife. Its blade caught the light, her blood dripping crimson and thick from it's tip, landing in warm droplets on her cheek. The Joker's face swam closer through her blurred vision, fatigue and starvation finally taking their toll, his grotesque face contorted in a sadistic grin. "C'mon, Harley." He cooed lovingly. "Scream…" he whispered, looking around conspiratorially as if they shared some fantastic secret. "Scream…." He suddenly whorled, stabbing the knife deep into the soft flesh of her leg, causing her to let out a low moan. "Scream… SCREAM!" he howled, deranged in his fury, twisting the knife and bringing it down on her back, pressing hard. She shivered as she felt the blood flowing unchecked down her back, tracking one gloved hand as it made its way around to her front, pressing down on the tender, newly-healed knife wounds there. She gritted her teeth, setting her jaw and resolutely ignoring the pain, breathing harshly. "SCREAM!" the Joker howled again, pushing her chair over and slicing through the restraints that held her wrists still. "SCREAM!" he advanced, and she scrabbled at the rough concrete, feeling her back bump against the wall, cradling her abdomen in her shaking hands and whimpering. He loomed over her menacingly, knife dangling limp from his hand, blood dripping onto the floors with a soft patting noise. "Please…" she begged. "Please…" He threw his head back and cackled, causing her to curl in on herself, terrified that he would finally break her… that her frayed sanity would finally give way, and she too would plunge into the deep blood-red pool of insanity, just like the Joker. "No…" she whimpered. The Joker's laughs cut off abruptly, and she gasped as the knife clattered to the floor, hands clamping onto her emaciated wrists like a vice, squeezing painfully. She protested weakly, pulling, and before she knew it his hand flashed out, slapping her painfully, head lolling back against the wall and colliding painfully. His grip returned to her wrist again, and her eyes welled with tears as she felt new blood seeping from the bump at the base of her skull, cheek throbbing relentlessly. "Ya gonna listen now? Ya gonna be a good girl, Harley? Are ya?" He licked his lips, cocking his head to the side and examining her face critically. "Ya want it all to stop?" he asked, running a heavy gloved hand over her hair. "Ya want this all to go away? Do ya!?" he asked forcefully, shaking her. "Y-yes…" she whimpered, nodding just in case words were not enough. The Joker smiled his sadistic smile again, letting her go. "Good… that's good… we're making progress…" he laughed loudly, causing her to flinch again. "Almost there, Harley." He faced her again, a light shining in his mad man's eyes that had not been there before. "Just…. One…" His gloved hands made their way down his vest, unbuttoning quickly, tossing the garment aside and starting on his shirt. "Little… thing…"
"Scream for me Harley!" As gloved hands caressed her body, violating her, the same hands that had caused so much pain now gentle, she broke. A long, drawn out scream issued from her mouth as the Joker did what he would….
She was now Harley Quinn.
"Selena! SELENA!" Hands grasped her shoulders, and she jerked upright, fighting from the instant her eyes opened.
"Don't touch me!" she screamed, vaulting off the bed, crouching into a corner, making herself as small as possible. Her breath came in harsh pants, tears coming unchecked as she held the knife in front of her. Her hands trembled, her nightgown stuck to her slight frame, chilled sweat causing her to shiver, face pale with terror.
Sam flinched, drawing back, tracking her progress with sad eyes. He slid down from their bed, padding slowly and deliberately towards her, hands held empty and aloft, showing he was no threat. His stomach clenched as he looked over his wife. She looked so small, so broken… her bangs clung to her sweat soaked forehead, skin pale as a sheet as she clutched his knife for dear life, sobbing. And then he heard it.
"not harley. Not her. Nononononono please no. not harley no…."
He crouched beside her, voice low and soothing. "Selena? Honey, let me have the knife, there we go…" he tugged the knife from her hands, setting it on the dresser before turning and tugging the quilt from the foot of the bed. It wasn't there for warmth. It was for nights like these: when either of their lives simply became to much, and they needed comfort, something tangible to break through the memories. He shook it out slowly, draping it around her shoulders, watching as she huddled into its warmth. "That's it…" he reached out slowly, letting her track him as he cupped her face, squeezing gently as he stared into her haunted eyes. "Selena." He said her name firmly. "Selena?" he kept repeating her name until recognition lighted, and she blinked softly.
"Selena." She whispered, voice rough from screaming. She licked her lips, scrubbing a hand across her cheeks, and sighed. "Selena." She repeated firmer, relaxing. She muttered her name to herself, taking measured breaths, leaning her head back against the walls, flinching slightly at the phantom pains from where the Joker had knocked her against the wall. Her eyes drifted shut, name rolling off her lips, and moments later, she looked up. "Sammy."
Sam's shoulders sagged in relief, and he tugged her into his arms, resting his chin on her hair. "It was longer this time." He informed her quietly, shuddering. She sagged against him, her hand reaching for and finding his, closing firmly over it.
"I'm glad you're here, Sammy." She murmured, shivering.
"Me too." He kissed the top of her head tenderly. "Me too." He muttered to himself. "C'mon." he nudged her gently. "S' cold, an' we're sittin' on the floor." He helped her up, letting her lean against him as he steered them back to the bed, stowing the knife in the drawer just in case.
Feeling her husband's weight dip beside her, Selena scooted close to him, laying her head on his chest, curling her fingers into his shirt, grounding herself.
His lips tipped up in a smile, rubbing her back firmly through the quilt, reaching to turn off the light. As she drifted off, she sleepily registered Sam's warm fingers tracing her scar beneath the hem of her gown. She used to tense up, before they were married… but now, now she is used to it, she knows Sam has accepted her despite her flaws. They are broken, but they keep each other grounded.