Beta: RisqueSno

Spoilers: DC events taken place in 2009-10, including the death of Bruce Wayne and Harley's role in Gotham Sirens

Disclaimer: DC owns all these characters and WB owns DC and Time Warner owns WB and I'm pretty sure the rest of the world.

Author's notes: This is just a little thing I whipped up this weekend for some reason. It was about time too. I don't think I've completed anything in two years! It's not my usual brand of upbeatness, so I'm not sure how it's going to settle on everyone. I worried it's too cheesy, probably because I haven't posted a story in awhile so reassure me or tell me if it sucks.

Hibernation

She watched her footing, knowing there were icy patches all over the road and sidewalk. It had been a particularly harsh winter and snowdrifts piled up against the buildings. In the daylight some of it had melted, creating puddles in various places, but they had refrozen during the night, making the roads even more perilous for driver and pedestrian alike.

It was late and she was drifting down dark and dangerous alleyways, but without worry. Even if she wasn't the notorious Harley Quinn (and she most certainly was, as she often reminded herself with pride), the weather was keeping everyone in, including the more nefarious citizens of Gotham.

All the same, Pam had clearly wanted her to stay in tonight. Harley knew Ivy's feelings had nothing to do with worry over the cold, but strictly to do with Harley's intentions that evening. She recalled their last conversation, wishing it hadn't been so confrontational.

"Why do you have to head to your previous hideout with…him?" Ivy questioned, disgust dripping over the last word.

"Red, it's not what you think." She tried to sound as soothing as she could without being too obvious about it. "If you, Cat, and I are going to make this thing work I just need some supplies. It's not like stores keep jumbo sized pop guns in stock. I still have an image to keep up…or do you really think I should just try out a completely new shtick?" Harley ended in a flat tone, as though doing so was a ridiculous notion.

"Actually, I think that'd be a great idea," Ivy promptly returned. "Why should you keep glorifying that clown with your image when you claim to be over him?"

"You're absolutely right; I'll just glue some fig leaves to body and emulate you," Harley replied, oozing with sarcasm. "You're such a great role model after all."

Ivy's voice rose with her next words. "Why do you have to emulate anybody? You're an intelligent, vibrant woman. Come up with your own identity."

"Harley Quinn is my identity!" she announced proudly. "With or without the Joker, Harley is mine and no one is taking her away from me! He may have opened my eyes to elements of myself that I was unaware of, but what came out of it was all me. Unfiltered me. And if you don't like it, then…then you innately have a problem with me!" she concluded grandly by slamming the door on her way out.

Looking back, she wished she hadn't behaved so harshly. Ivy meant well after all. …She always did. Harley dug a cell phone out of her coat pocket and purposely went through her call list, rather morosely noting how short it was

"Hi Harl," Ivy answered casually. "Are you finding everything okay?"

"I haven't gotten there yet. I wanted to apologize for the way I acted when I left. I just-"

"No need," Ivy interrupted. "I'm sorry too. I honestly wouldn't want you to change who you are…much," she lightly joked.

"Yeah, I'll bet," Harley laughed. "I also wanted to reassure you that I honestly am only going for supplies. I mean, I've ordered some new stuff to be made, but it takes time before specialty items of that nature can be produced and shipped. I just need some stuff in the meantime. We can't all grow our arsenal out of the ground, y'know."

"…I never really thought about it," Ivy admitted. "I guess I take some things for granted."

Harley adopted a serious tone. "I'm honestly not looking for him, Red. Not a sign. Not a hint. I give you my word."

"I trust you, Harley. Hurry up now. It's freezing."

"No kidding!" Harley stopped at the front of a door in an alleyway she weaved into during the conversation. "I'm here. I'll be home soon. Bye, Red." In the past, she had made similar claims and only halfway meant it, but this time it was truly genuine. She didn't want to find the Joker and hadn't wanted to for some time. She had her reasons: reasons she hadn't discussed with anyone, even Pammy, and had no intention of doing so.

Harley put the phone back in her pocket and removed a key in its place. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for a flood of memories, before putting her hand on the knob. When she did, she was surprised to find that she didn't need the key at all. The door pushed open on its own.

"Great," Harley muttered, knowing what had happened. Someone must of broken in, in which case she was either going to be greeted with dead bodies and their unpleasant smell from tripped booby-traps or she'd find everything she had come for gone.

"Damn looters!" Harley complained, entering the building. "I'll bet all my stuff is on eBay, being fought over by some lousy collectors."

"On the bright side," a voice called from the darkness, echoing around her. "You can always tell how popular you are by how high they're willing to bid. I mean, you wouldn't believe what the masses are willing to pay for a handkerchief I supposedly used. Disgusting, I know, but flattering all the same."

Harley froze in recognition of the voice and her breath quickened. "Ivy is going to be so pissed," she whispered, unaware that she had uttered the thought aloud.

"Don't feel too bad," the voice responded. "Red loves any opportunity to feel self-righteous."

The voice didn't sound quite right. There was no life in it, making him sound almost alien. Nonetheless, she knew who it was. She'd almost felt his presence even before he had made himself known. Still, she turned on the lights to make the situation real. When she did, he recoiled, covering his eyes from the sudden brightness, indicating he had been living in the dark for quite awhile.

"Mr. J," she breathed and then swallowed hard, trying not to look directly at him. "I-I wasn't expecting you."

"Turn off that damn light!" he barked.

"I have to pick up supplies. That what I came here for. Supplies. Then I'll turn off the light and leave. Yes, I'll leave," she said, mostly to herself, sounding rather detached.

"You aren't happy to see me?" the Joker asked. Harley didn't answer, only giving him darting glances out of the corner of her eye. "I don't blame you," Joker offered. "You almost understand, don't you? Almost."

Harley robotically crossed the room to where some of her stuff was stored and began collecting them. She didn't want to talk, fearing she'd become more emotionally invested than she already was.

"Are you going to completely ignore me?" he questioned. "God, am I already that pathetic? …It didn't take long. I guess that shouldn't surprise me."

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" Harley asked without stopping in her business and trying desperately not to sound that interested.

"Don't know," he answered.

"…How long has it been since you've bathed?" From her discreet glances, she had already gathered that it had been awhile as he looked rather disheveled.

"Don't know," he admitted again. "I mean, what's the-"

"Point," Harley finished for him. "Yeah. Yeah, I do understand. Almost. And…I am very sorry for your loss," she added as an afterthought.

"I always knew you got me," he replied and Harley could detect the sadness in his voice. She wondered if anyone else could have.

"Don't," Harley instructed.

"Don't what?" he asked, knowing full well the answer.

"Don't get me involved! I don't want to take care of you…like this!" She was becoming emotional, which was the last thing she wanted. She struggled to calm herself down. "I don't want-I don't want any part of this. And, if you were honest with yourself, you'd know that you don't want me involved either."

"So…that's it then."

"God," she started crying. "What do you want from me? I can't bring him back? Believe me, I wish I could, but I can't."

"When'd you find out?" Joker pried.

"Umm…I'm not sure," Harley replied, returning to her task with wet eyes and trying to regain composure. "I heard some rumors, but I felt like I knew before then. Gotham just doesn't feel the same somehow, y'know. No one is acting the same either. It's all kinda weird."

Joker nodded in understanding. "So you don't want me without him. …That's awfully shallow of you." He stared vacantly at the ceiling as he spoke.

"No! That's not it at all!" she responded, flustered. "You're not you anymore and I knew you wouldn't be if this ever happened. I wish I could feel the same way, but I can't. I have to keep going," she sniffed. "If…if you ever get over his passing, look me up, okay?"

"You wish you could feel the same way?" he repeated.

"What?"

"That's what you said. You said that you wish you could feel the same way," he turned his head and looked straight at her for the first time and she looked back, meeting his eyes that were as lifeless as his voice. Those eyes she had been avoiding broke her heart and she knew they would haunt her for the rest of her life. "I think that can be arranged," he offered, sitting up and removing a gun from his belt and pointing it at his temple.

Harley felt everything tighten within her and she was barely aware that she had stopped breathing, tears stinging her eyes.

"Yeah, that would do it for you, wouldn't it," he asked, but it wasn't a question.

She honestly wasn't sure how to react. As his Harley, pitching a fit or fawning all over him were typical responses to his usual brand of craziness. That was part of the game, one they both understood. But the game was over and she thought he honestly might actually do it. In fact, part of her had been afraid that he had done it already.

"Please-" she choked.

"Please what?" he probed, not sure what kind of response he wanted to evoke.

"Please don't," she begged softly, but emphatically.

"Give me one good reason for me to go on. Just one. What should be my new purpose in life, good doctor? Give me some sense of meaning in this barren future laid before me," he mockingly implored.

Harley thought for a moment, searching for some sort of loophole. A way out. It was so hard to think. If only he'd put the gun down for a moment. Instead he pushed back the hammer with his thumb and the click seemed to echo loudly in her brain.

"You-You've always said there was no meaning, r-right?" she reminded him, hopefully.

"Oh no. No twisting the words against me, Doc. C'mon, you know how to talk people off the ledge. You've trained for this. Give me your best shot." His tone adopted a dangerous edge to the last word.

Harley choked back a few sobs before throwing up her hands in defeat. "I'm a horrible psychiatrist," she broke down in self-pity, falling to her knees and completely giving in to the emotions she had been trying to hold back. She had felt so much stronger recently on her own without him there making her question her every move. She hadn't experienced a break down, certainly not one of this magnitude, in ages and it felt foreign and familiar all at the same time: choking sobs that burned her throat, tears smearing her make up, physical weakness accompanied by mental defeat. Never before though had she felt so utterly helpless and hopeless.

Joker smiled a little at that and even gave a slight chuckle. "Thanks, I needed that." He paused and considered her a moment. "You really would feel the way I do right now if I were to pull the trigger, wouldn't you?" he asked and there was a hint of wonderment in his voice.

She nodded her head fervently, unable to speak amongst her lamenting.

"I don't think I'd ever really been able to appreciate that until now," he commented, sounding more genuine than she'd ever heard him. "Aren't you something else."

Harley was still too beside herself to truly understand the compliment he'd offered her. She'd beat herself senseless longer than she'd care to admit trying to find a way to be useful to him. In that moment, she finally had without realizing it.

"Ask me why I haven't gone through with it yet," Joker directed her.

Harley suddenly looked up at him with anticipation and imploring eyes.

"No, I'm not going to kill myself." He lowered the gun and sounded a bit like his old self. "Calm down. You look a mess. Nevermind. You don't have to ask me. You're clearly incapacitated." He sat himself up a little straighter. "…You're not allowed to laugh," he instructed her after a moment.

She shook her head as earnestly as she had nodded it to his earlier question.

"I don't think he's dead," he whispered earnestly, as though he had just revealed a state secret. "You know how people say they can feel when someone has passed? The truth is I don't feel anything and I think I would. …I know it's corny," he added a little sheepishly…or at least Harley thought it was and found it simply adorable. "I'll deny it if you tell anyone," he vowed.

Harley made a motion across her mouth, indicating a zipped lip. "So," Harley finally found her voice. "Should I-"

"No," he cut her off, guessing her next words. "You go on and do…whatever it is you're doing in the meantime. If the Bat wants to play dead, I can play mourning. If he thinks he can outwait me, he's got another think coming."

"Are-Are you sure?" Harley asked, not sure she wanted to leave him in this state anymore.

"You were right before. I don't want you around. In fact, I'm quite done talking with you and wish to get back to feeling sorry for myself." He motioned her out of his presence with an imperious wave of the hand.

Harley gathered up what things she managed to collect before falling to pieces and headed toward the door. She tried to say something before she exited. Something meaningful. But he had a finger over his mouth and shushed her before she could.

She turned off the lights and shut the door behind her, leaving him alone in the dark. Stepping out of the alley, she felt surprised at the sudden uplifting feeling she had after such an emotional ordeal.

Harley couldn't help but imagine two great beings asleep for now and only choosing to awaken on their terms. The world was blander without, she had to admit, but she now felt reassured that a day would come when it felt alive once again.

END