Harley never prayed much, or really had much to pray for at least; hell half the time she didn't even know who shed pray to; for all that she'd done in her past and with Mr. J it was sealed she was most likely going to hell-if there even was one. So why was it that on this Wednesday that she fell to her knees in the creaky old church of Gotham, tears streaking through the white grease paint smeared all across her face. Harley took a long shaky breath in, her hands trembling in her lap, she had begged all morning to someone above to listen her pleas an answer from anyone; finally she went to the one place where she could be heard.
Outside beyond the wooden doors, Gotham was in its biggest celebration. Parades were made in his name, songs played so loudly in the distance, even many from Metropolis came to the large celebration, there was word that Superman would attend. As well as many smaller parties were held, especially by many of Gotham's villains, Penguin in particular was holding a big bash at the Iceberg Lounge, disgustingly Harley was invited; that's when she felt sick to her stomach.
It all felt so surreal, like a horrible dream. A sob escaped her cracked lips, she hunched over hugging herself tightly.
"Oh my child, what brings you here on such a blessed day?" An elderly voice echoed from behind. Harley barley lifted her head, blinking at the alter. A hand touched her shoulder soothingly, "Now, now" It whispered.
She shook her head, finding a loose thread in her tights, she stared at it, wanting to watch it unravel and fall apart, she wanted it all to fall apart to the chaos and death until she felt better somehow. Even now as the damned priest touched her shoulder she wanted nothing more than to rip out his throat; but she was too weak now, it wasn't that she was bathes n bruises and cut wounds, those didn't hurt none, nothing compared to the events that conspired the previous night, she didn't sleep, she doubted she ever would again. So she just sat there staring at the black thread, with the priest trying to soothe her.
"everything will be better now, you'll see." She hadn't realized he was still talking. "You can get on a better track of life now, my child." This made her lift her head to look at the priest, he was older, going bald, bright blue eyes filled with sick forgiveness only to be magnified with his thick glassed resting on the brim if his large freckled nose. He smiled down to her, "Now maybe we can go wash that face of yours, clean you up, how about that?"
"No." She whispered, it was strange how now her voice sounded so far away and so feign, yet still belonging to her. He nodded, as if he understood, she hated it; she hated how he 'understood' but he knew nothing even close to how she felt, or what she'd just been through.
"Very well," He said, kneeling down next to her. "But I think there's something that you should hear, young one."
Harley stayed silent, looking back to the thread on her leg.
"He forgives you."
Harley turned her head back to stare at him, she assumed that he meant god. It didn't mean much to her, she wanted the forgiveness of another.
"I'm sure, that the Joker knew it wasn't your fault." He continued in a reassuring tone, she swallowed hard. "Everything happens for a reason, I think your better because of it."
She stood suddenly, staring down at the priest, "But it was my fault!" She shrieked, backing away. "I-I didn't know what would happen, I couldn't have. I j-just wanted to teach him a lesson, I d-didn't, I didn't-didn't know." Harley crumbled to the ground, covering her face. She whispered softly through her fingers, "I didn't know Batman would kill him."
Fireworks went off outside, muting her sobs. Her hands were stained in his blood, when she tried to save him, the Bat almost seemed surprised as to what he'd done as well, but made no effort to save her love. The image of her Joker laying in the dark cement of Gotham, he died outside of Wayne tower. There were no last words, no kisses, no more jokes. Just cold silence, something that would forever haunt Harley.
She was the one who took his body away before anyone else could, before anyone could deface his body, she carried him all the way back to their home. The henchmen couldn't only watch, none offered assistance, there were few actually loyal to the Joker, so many of them left with a jump in their step; but there were the few who stayed with Harley and did offer her help with anything. She told them no, and buried the Joker herself. She dug the hole for him, she buried her heart in the ground.
It was the moment she had with him, only she knew where he was buried. Their last secret.
Harley would give her life again and again to bring him back, willingly she would endure torture if it meant having him back, even if it meant her never meeting him she would do it all, just for him.
The priest shook her arm, bringing her back to the old creaky church. "Miss, I know you're going through something right now," He paused to take a breath in. "There's an old room here in the church, if you need a place."
She sniffed, staring at him puzzled, she didn't quite know what to say, and she wanted to go back to her home, and clutch something that belonged to her beloved; but she was also curious, "Why? Why the hell would you help me?"
He had a small quiet smile, as he helped her stand, steadying her. "Because, I'm giving you a second chance."