Disclaimer: I do not own any of the character or locations that are involved in the suicide squad movie or comics, nor do I own any of the DC universe characters or setting. All of this is the property of DC comics and its affiliates and Warner brothers.
A/N though I write all my stories for every reader I dedicate this little piece to shikacloud, for inspiring the notion that triggered this idea and also for being an awesome fan from the start.
PS This one is INTENSE, so make sure you got a chocolate ready at the end, you'll need it. Or your favorite comfort snack. Please try and imagine the Jared Leto and Margot Robbie characters talking through this, it's very intense if you do. This is definitely pre-suicide squad movie.
Desire and reality.
It was night.
The stars were out and Harley sat with her face pressed against the window, looking up at them all. You didn't get to see stars like this in Gotham, they were pretty.
Like little diamonds someone stuck onto the black sky.
The music was playing, something soothing, she didn't know the name of it. Some singer on the radio but she was glad he'd turned it on. It took away the quiet.
They hadn't spoken the whole trip, he'd just grabbed her out of bed that morning, dressed her, which she'd barely noticed and carried her downstairs and into the car.
He didn't tell her where they were going or why, just sat her down, buckled her up and got in.
They'd driven all day, she'd watched the sun move through the sky, then setting like a rainbow of colors bleeding into the darkness.
They'd stopped twice, both times at a gas station, it was just the two of them and she'd watched, curious as he got out, filled the tank, swiping Frost's credit card. She knew it was Frost's because all of the Joker's were either green or purple, his favorite colors.
If anyone noticed him, they were too scared to say anything or maybe they just didn't know who he was.
He looked, almost normal. The dark jeans, the button up shirt that was that dark green. He could almost have passed for a normal guy. He wasn't even wearing all the makeup.
She had no idea what was going on, she didn't have the strength to ask. Not today, not right now.
They didn't even stop to eat, he had food in the back seat. Having her reach back and grab it. Someone had packed enough food for the day, her favorites, his too.
J turned a corner and they got off the main road, the path was rocky and the Lamborghini jumped a little as he drove them to a out of the way cabin.
She frowned, the curiosity too much for her. She looked up and stared at the place. They'd never been here before, ever, she didn't even know where here was or what this place could be.
"Where are we?" she asked, the words sounding so thick.
"Home." he said quietly. His eyes locked on her for a moment before he pulled into the dirt drive way and stopped the car.
"Home?" she asked still confused. "Who's home?"
"Ours." He tells her, leaning in and kissing her deeply.
His lips feel so good, so, so good. For a moment she doesn't think about everything, doesn't think about what's happened, what they've lost or anything else. For one moment, she's herself again.
When he pulls away she can't help the small shudder that goes through her.
He places a finger on her lips and hushes her.
"No, not here." he tells her with a rough growl.
She nods, obeying his command and he gets out. Opening the trunk, she climbs out slowly. Finally looking down at her clothes.
She hadn't bothered to look once.
Jeans, her boots, one of her long sleeve shirts with a flower in the middle. Normal people clothes, that's what they call it.
Normal people wear.
She jerks her head up when he closes the trunk, he's got two bags on his back and a box held casually in one hand. He motions for her to follow and she does, silently climbing up the wood stairs behind him.
The front door isn't even locked.
It's made of glass, frosted in stain glass style. There is no design to it, no names, nothing but it's so beautiful, she can't help but stare at it for a second before she follows him inside.
When he turns on the light, she can't help but feel awed at everything. It's them, the furniture's all things both of them would like, the flashy colors he enjoys but the eclectic taste she has for unique pieces. She knows some of the art on the wall, it's from her old life. Even the picture one of her old friends did for her so very long ago.
There are photos, she can't see them all from here but someone went to the trouble of taking photos of them both, some of her on her own and framing them.
The living room is an open lay out and leads to the dining room. It's as spacious as the living room and Harley could almost imagine them entertaining here. Not his clients no, their inner circle.
He throws the bags down on the couch and comes back for her, taking a deep, determined breath before grabbing her by the wrist and leading her past the couches, into the dining room and through an archway.
The kitchen is on the other side of it and she can't help the tiny gasp that escapes her lips.
It's, exactly what she wanted.
Then it hits her, everything's exactly what she wanted. Everything's perfect, a blend of both of them, except for this room so far that is completely her own and the realization dawns on her.
Her eyes widen in surprise and he stares at her with an unreadable expression.
"You..." she can't put it into words, that he'd do this. For her, when he'd do nothing like it for anyone else. When no one else could get a thing from him without the demand of blood and a piece of their soul.
"Yes." He cuts her off with a rough voice, not wanting to discuss the intimate details of what he's done for her.
He sits her down at the smaller kitchen table, the chairs look more like stools and would only fit four people comfortably. More intimate, not meant for entertaining.
He goes to one of the cabinets and grabs two glasses, placing them on the table before walking to the fridge, revealing that it's fully stocked.
She watches as he grabs the grape soda.
When he comes back, he motions to the box before he takes a seat in front of her on another stool.
"Open."
She does, slowly, lifting the box's lid.
There's a bottle in it, a picture of a sunset on the label with a clear liquid inside. Alcohol.
She glances up at him in confusion. He doesn't drink, she doesn't really drink either.
"I don't understand." She confesses, looking back at the bottle.
He doesn't explain, only pours the grape soda into each glass, about half way, before taking the white rum from the box and filling the glasses the rest of the way.
"Puddin..." She protests, realizing what he's doing. "No, you don't..."
He stops her, replacing the cap on the bottle. Pushing it aside.
"Just drink." he orders and hands her the glass.
She looks down at the purple liquid, it fizzes, reacting to the alcohol. It's chilled in her hand from the soda and she licks her lips almost nervously.
He wants to drink, he never drinks.
"Go on." He insists, taking his own glass and downing the drink in almost one swing.
She follows suit, coughing hard when the strong burning taste hits the back of her throat. It's stronger than anything she's ever tasted before.
He urges her to drink it all, doing the same with his own, until there is only one small drop in both glasses.
It feels warm going down though, the burn subsiding enough to allow her to enjoy the sensation. It's tingling her insides.
He pours the grape soda and the rum in the glasses again, silently urging for her to drink with him. She doesn't hesitate this time, she downs it as quickly as he does and then places the cup on the table.
Her mouth buzzing, burning with carbonation and alcohol.
By the third drink, she's feeling it, whatever the stuff is, it's strong, very strong and it doesn't take long for it to work its magic on her. Her body relaxes, her mind uncoils from its tightly wound security blanket and she even manages a small smile as he gives her a fourth cup.
She's glad the stools have backs otherwise, she'd have fallen back with that swing.
He doesn't offer her a fifth glass. He pushes both drinks away and moves the glasses.
One arm resting on the table, the other laying flat on his leg.
"Why are you doing this?" she asks, her resistance to talk long gone, her resistance to keep her mouth from running away from her is now running behind it.
'I want to." He explains calmly. "You know me."
"I do, you don't just want to drink." She prods, pointing at the bottle. "You say drinking makes your brain go stupid."
"It does but I think you need stupid right now."
"Why? Because I'm a bigger mess than usual?" she laughs but it's bitter and it's hollow.
"No because stupid would be an improvement from what you are right now." He looks away when he tells her this and she laughs again.
"And what am I puddin? What is your Harley Quinn now?"
"She's the living dead and I want her back." He growls and even without the makeup, he's still so dangerous, so intimidating and beautiful.
"So you think getting me drunk is gonna bring me back?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "That's... dumb."
"The drink is just to loosen you up." he confesses, his eyes fixed back on her. "You're gonna tell me, everything."
"Everything, what do you mean everything?" she frowns at him, utterly confused and unable to comprehend anything.
"Everything is everything Harley, so go ahead, tell me everything."
"Everything of what?" she demands, throwing up her hands.
"Everything inside that pretty, deranged, brilliant little head of yours."
She shakes her head violently. "No, no, no. I'd rather you torture me again than that."
"Why?"
"Because it would hurt less." She admits and looks down at her hands.
He grabs her face with his hands and he's not gentle, she feels the heat in his hands and she looks up, pulling back the tears that want to fall so badly.
"Everything Harley, everything." he repeats and his eyes tell her that they won't leave, they won't move from this spot until she tells him everything.
"I didn't want much." she whispers so quietly, like a tiny little mouse. "I wasn't asking for that much was I?"
He doesn't answer her, just listens. Still holding her head up.
"It wasn't like I was asking for you to be normal, for me to be normal. I wasn't asking for that puddin, I wasn't asking for you to marry me, I know you wouldn't and I wasn't asking." she places her hands on his and closes her eyes, feeling the pain come forward. The treacherous alcohol doing its job well and opening all of those doors that she'd locked away over the last year.
"I just wanted... just that one thing." she bit her lip, stopping it from trembling. "Why wasn't I allowed to have that Pudding, why wasn't I allowed to have it? I know we're bad guys, I know we didn't deserve it but I wanted it. We always get what we want. So why did they take it away?"
"Who?" he gazes at her seriously.
"Them, fate, God, whoever you want. Why did they take my baby puddin? Why didn't they let me keep him?"
Joker doesn't answer her again.
"I would have been a good mother puddin, I would have been a damn good mother." Her voice raises and it echoes off the walls. "I would have done right by him puddin, I would have been good to him. Not like my mother was, not like yours. I know you don't remember yours but she had to have done something wrong, look at us... Look at us puddin. You don't turn out like us and come from normal families."
"Harley, normal is-"
"A setting on the dryer, I know that puddin. I don't want normal. I don't need for us to live in some suburb with white picket fences and a two story house. I didn't want that, I didn't want for you to be some guy who works and comes home to dinner. I didn't need a daycare. I didn't want those things, I didn't need them. I just wanted, one little thing. One little piece of normal. Just one."
He lets go of her face and just watches her as she spills herself out in front of him.
"I didn't want all that puddin, I just wanted JJ." A tear threatening to fall down but she forbids it from doing so, if she starts to cry. She might never stop.
"Why did they take him away from me?" she asks quietly. "I don't understand why, the doctor couldn't tell me why. He just didn't know. He thought it was the chemicals in my body, from when I jumped but it wasn't, it wasn't that because then how did we even make him? How did we make JJ if that was the problem?"
He's been thinking that himself but he doesn't tell her that, the sort of chemicals they both fell into, should have killed any chances of reproduction either of them had but still, she'd gotten pregnant. She'd made it two months in, hadn't she. So why?
"I would have been a good mom." she repeats her earlier statement. "I would have taken care of him puddin, made sure he was healthy. Made sure he was strong and smart. He would have had everything with us puddin, the best of everything."
She fell silent after that, for a long time and he didn't try to make her talk. She'd said more than he'd expected her to say, it was a start and he had it in him to be patient with her this time.
"I wanted him so badly puddin, so, so badly. To hold him in my arms, to hear his little cry, to watch him fall to sleep as I sang to him. We would have made a great kid."
"I believe that." he agreed, finally speaking.
"He would have been the best of us puddin. Ours, he was ours and they took him away from us. I want someone to be responsible puddin, I want someone to be at fault for it but it's my fault, oh god it's my fault."
Her hands came up to her face and the tears finally did come, she couldn't hold them back after that statement.
She cried loudly, every sob almost a wail. The words it's my fault repeated over and over again in between.
"It's my fault puddin, I wasn't careful enough. I didn't take care of him enough. He didn't want to be with us."
"That isn't true." he said calmly. Not daring to touch her, not wanting to break the moment.
There was intensity in his eyes, watching her break down in front of him. Intensity because this, for all of Harley's wild emotions was an emotional break down she didn't show anyone else.
It was about trust after all, it was about loyalty and he had no doubt of her loyalty towards him but he was curious of how she felt about trusting him, about his loyalty to her and his trust in her.
"Then why isn't he here with us puddin?" she demanded to know. "Other bad guys get to have them, bad guys who aren't us. Who don't have our resources, who are pathetic low lives with no aspirations. Fuck, my brother has kids and I only haven't shot him because he's not worth the bullet it'd take to kill him. People have children, people who are bad, evil people."
"We're evil." he states to her and she shakes her head.
"No puddin, not our evil, something worse. There are worse evils than us in the world. Those people who dare to declare themselves good, the ones who say they'd never do bad things. They're the real bad ones, the evil ones. We kill, we do terrible things but we're honest about it. They lie and cheat and deceive and then blame it all on us."
He can't argue that.
"JJ would have been everything for us, our legacy, our child. OUR CHILD." she screamed, pointing at him and then at herself. "Our baby, maybe the only one we had and maybe not but he would have been ours either way. Something we did together puddin, someone we made. For all the chaos and destruction we did, that we'll do in the future, he would have been the one thing we made. Setting us apart from everyone else, because our child would have been more than any of them, because he would have been proof of everything we are. Every life we take would have been more than weighed in on because he would have been that perfect. Our child, our son. Our... our legacy."
"Legacy." He repeated the word.
"Yes, our legacy puddin. He would have taken over one day, when we couldn't do it anymore. He would have been our immortality." She sobbed again, confessing her vision of their future. "I don't care that it sounds crazy, I don't give a fuck if you laugh at me but I truly believed that. JJ would have made Gotham bow down in a way neither of us could."
The sad thing was, it wasn't such a crazy idea. A genetic progeny of the Joker and Harley would have that potential, to be greater than his father, than his mother. To continue the show when they were long gone.
"He was gonna be so smart, so charming. He wasn't gonna have to go to a public school like I had to and I wasn't gonna send him to a private one either, so they could look down on him because of what we are. We would have taught him at home, he'd have gotten the best education at home. Because the school system In this country is a joke. A bad one. I know you wouldn't have approved but I'd want him to go to collage."
"Why?" he asks, curious now. Reaching over and pulling her up, his thumb wiping away a tear.
"Because that's where he'd practice, in collage. He'd take what we taught him and he'd spread his own wings, test out what he liked, what he wanted to be."
"And if he wanted to be like them? Then what?"
Harley shook her head vehemently. "He wouldn't want their lives. Because we'd have taught him how to see the truth of the world. So he would have gone in with his eyes open, learning the world the right way."
They sat there afterwards, for almost an hour and a half, just sitting there, not saying anything, not moving at all. She just stared at him and he stared at her.
He could give her anything else in the world but the one thing he couldn't do was bring him back, she knew it and she wasn't about to ask for it either.
It was strange to sit here with him, just having him stare at her, his eyes so fierce, intense.
"Do you even care?" she finally asks him. "Do you care that he's gone?"
His eyes narrow at the question and she doesn't expect an answer. "Yes."
"Why do you care?" she asks, half laughing, placing her hand on the table and smacking it hard. "Why do you fucking care, you're the joker, you don't care. You never care. You don't care about your son, you don't care about me!"
He moved so quickly she didn't have time to react.
He didn't stand up, he pulled her off the chair and suddenly she was in his lap, her legs spread so that she straddled him, her body pressed close to him with a hand on the back of her head.
"Never." He hissed. "Do not ever say that again Harley, do you understand me?"
"You don't." she whispered again, fresh tears somehow making there way down her cheeks. "You don't love me."
The miserable declaration is mournful, her heart broken words just that, broken.
Smack!
There is a sharp burning pain on her face.
It burns, doesn't even feel good. She starts to cry harder, her whole body shaking with the effort.
He pulls her back to look at him, he's furious, he's so very angry at her words and she sees the fire in his eyes.
"Harley, listen very carefully to me. Understood?" he snarls so quietly at her and she nods, still sobbing.
His breathing is harsh, his chest rising and falling with jagged motions but he says nothing.
He doesn't need to though, even as she cries, his body tells her everything she needs to know.
I love you, I hate that you're in this much pain, I love you, I love you. I won't say it but I love you.
She only starts crying louder, her hands shaking as she wraps them around her shoulders, lowering her head so that she falls into his chest.
She cries hysterically, leaving his shirt soaked in her tears.
"Never, ever say that again. I never want to hear that again." He growls, his voice still gravel, his tone still dangerously enraged. "Never."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." she sobs. "I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it. I just want you to hurt as much as I do."
And he does, she knows it. He just, can't say it. She just wants someone to blame, she wants someone other than herself to blame.
He hold her tightly in his arms, almost squeezing her too tight, until she's done crying. Until she's stopped, then there is nothing left.
She's cried every drop of pain out, she's cried until her eyes run dry and all she can think is that it feels like something's flying away from her. Like having a butterfly land on you then suddenly flutter on its merry way.
Joker pulls her head up, actually using the sleeve of his shirt to dry her face before kissing her. It's deep and hot, passionate and lined with violence and longing, spiced with hints of other feelings he can't express to her in words.
"You want someone to blame?" he asks her when they pull away breathlessly.
She nods her head. He grabs the bottle of rum and with one hand takes off the cap, putting the opening to his lips and taking a very large pulp of it. Slamming it down onto the table then grabbing her face again, targeting her lips and kissing her all over again. Sharing the unbearable burn of the alcohol.
It's so strong, it feels like her mouth is on fire. His tongue exploring every soft crevasse, the strength of her own tongue battling against him and the burn. The pain is shared, because he can feel pain and she knows it better than anyone. Not even the bat knows how much pain he can feel but she does, so she knows that this moment is felt by the both of them and she understands, even if he might not come to grips with it yet, even if he doesn't know how to feel it. He's in pain too.
He wants her to know that, its why they're here.
This place that is somewhere but nowhere, secluded from all the world. Even Batman would be hard pressed to just stumble upon it. It was safe, it was theirs and the only place where both of them could release it all.
No one would see here, no one would be able to point fingers and judge, like a performer who enjoys the privacy of a dressing room, he silently told her that this place was their safe haven.
Why Frost hadn't come, because he wanted her to himself, he needed her to himself and so did she.
He doesn't drink, not unless he's that stressed and has no intentions of being seen by the public eye. Not even the criminal public, he doesn't get high, all of those things are unwanted addictions.
He's come here and he drank with her, he drank with her to fog their minds and now he drank with her to feel the pain with her.
Neither of them laugh, this isn't the moment for it. That will come much later.
When he pulls away the second time, she sees the blisters already appearing, feeling them bubble on her own lips, from the bruising kiss, from the burning alcohol and she knows they'll go away in seconds but as she stares at him, watches as he speaks, there is a lifting of a great weight on her.
"I'll make a list of every, single person we can blame Harley. I think we can make a really, long list of people who can pay for what you've lost, for what... we've lost and I promise you honey. We'll get em all, every single last one."
She takes a very deep breath, holding it for a very long time before letting it go with a shudder. "Do you promise?"
"I swear it." he whispers and she believes him, utterly and completely, she truly believes him.
With a slow, grateful nod she reaches up and grasps his face in her hands. The tip of one of her fingers touching the small J on his face.
She kisses him again, expressing all her love, her gratitude, her pain and desire for revenge and she knows that no matter what, he'll do this. He'll find her people to blame, legitimate people who can mark their names to a death list.
He'll do this, because he loves her, because he'll do anything to get her back. Because he needs this as much as she does. Because it's her.
For her, always for her.
A/N Hey, I warned you guys, intense. So I hope you guys liked this little piece. It came to me while I was plotting out some stuff for monsters and performers and like I mentioned up top. Shikacloud made a comment in a review that inspired the scenario, so thank you honey, you were officially my muse on this one.. So hopefully they weren't out of character, I really was trying to keep them both in that character but still be able to pull this off. Let me know what you guys think of it.
So here is the thing, where would two people who can't afford to show vulnerability go to completely get lost, to let go of any human emotions that could be in theory used against them? Well, considering all the money they have, it occurred to me that they could easily own property in a lot of places. Even overseas. Maybe not in their names but still, theirs. So the idea came to have Joker take Harley somewhere remote, just them. A place that was for them and only them. Maybe he even had this place in mind when she got pregnant. Cause well, a criminal elite like him isn't stupid enough to believe that his enemies, the batman included wouldn't be one not to use his child against him.
Anyway, maybe I'm totally off the mark, let me know either way. So I love you guys so much. I hope you enjoy this, looks like it's more than likely gonna be a one shot unless someone else throws an idea my way but consider it a really purple blue, pink and green frosted cupcake. Hmm, now I want one.
Love you guys and I'll see ya later!