The rain pattered against the ground and roof, a steady tapping that seemed as if it would never stop. Little light came into the greenhouse, one of the many set around Gotham. The trees around her cast heavy shadow, setting the space in near total darkness. Red had always had her own hideaways placed around the city, little pieces of nature in an concrete, urban jungle, places so unlike the rest of the world outside.
Harley's back was against the wall and her knees drawn up, her head against her leg. How long she had been sitting like that, even she no longer knew. She thought that it might have been hours, and probably was considering how little she'd bothered to move.
The pattering of the rain continued, a steady noise that filled her ears; it was the only other sound beside her sobbing, which had slowly begun to soften the longer that she wept. Perhaps the weather was reflecting her mood.
Or perhaps, just like everything else in Harley's life, it couldn't seem to work out the way that it was supposed to. Maybe the sun had given up, tried to forget the city that didn't need it any way.
Even when she was out of Arkham, having slipped through it again like she had countless times before, the city hardly seemed any different. Batsy was gone, the city seemed to keep holding its breath, and whatever criminals were left kept to themselves. The same blanket that had fallen over the city a few months before, the one that she'd felt in Arkham, was here as well. That feeling, the one the entire city shared, a sort of limbo, hung over everything.
What, did she expect to break it? Even if she had the energy to hire a few goons again, there would be no point in it. What could Gotham give her now after it had taken everything, and everyone, that she'd ever loved?
Ivy looked up, surveying the greenhouse. It was a lush oasis, a forest housed behind glass walls. A safe place away from the rest of the world.
With shaking legs, Harley slowly stood up and began to walk around. The place was even wilder than before, plants growing everywhere. Ivy grew across the glass walls, reaching towards the sky, and trees all but touched the ceiling. Flowers grew across the grass, bright bursts of color that broke between the otherwise monochrome green ground.
The Joker's old hideout was still open. Other places were as well, pockets of the city that had been temporarily forgotten as the Arkham inmates were shut into their cells. The Riddler had a number of hideouts laying around, Scarecrow having more than he probably could ever need. The Mad Hatter had a few as well, most of them hidden in places one never could quite expect (though she knew for sure that one was behind a looking glass and another beneath a rabbit hole).
Harley breathed in, letting the scent of pine needles and the aroma of flowers fill her nose. This place was better, a testament to the woman that she had lost, a living memorial of all that she had loved.
She turned towards a group of trees and then looked down to the ground. Every flower, tree, and blade of grass had always been treated with utmost care. Every seed had been cared for, every plant kept alive. In a way, they had been her children, and were the only living testament that remained of their mother.
Harley leaned down and looked over the flowers. They were healthy, of course. With the automatic irrigation systems that Ivy had designed, water was pumped in automatically at various, pre-scheduled times.
Still, they surely could use some help. Just some extra fertilizer, maybe a few new seeds planted. There was still so much more that could be done in this flora filled world, and surely Ivy wouldn't want it to be ignored and forgotten.
Harley closed her eyes. The world went black, the feel of grass tickling her skin and the smell of pine needles filling her nose. For a moment, the clock turned back.
For a moment, things were like the way things were before.
The way that things were supposed to be.
When Harley opened her eyes, she sighed. Leaning a hand up to her face, she wiped at her cheeks and eyelids. When she saw her hand again, it was smeared white and black, caked in makeup that now seemed less and less important to apply back on.
She was supposed to be a clown, a harlequin. So why wasn't there anything worth laughing about any longer?
Harley sniffled, the sobs starting all over again and her tears picking up where she had left off. Her eyes burnt and throat ached, and the weights that she had been lifting since that night - that terrible, terrible night - returned to her shoulders.
It was hard to hear the cracking at first. Slowly, Harley paused and listened closer.
There it is, she thought.
It was unmistakeable, a cracking of leaves that continued slowly, one after the other.
She turned, fists half raised at whatever might be there.
Harley's eyes widened.
She walked with grace, her green skin mostly exposed save for her chest, shoulders, and a small bit of her legs. What was covered looked to be hidden by some sort of thick moss, dark green and leafy, smoothing seamlessly over her skin.
"You, you're-" Harley sputtered. She blinked, once, twice, third time's the charm. But the other woman didn't vanish, only grew larger the closer that she stepped towards the other. "But I thought-"
"Thought what?" Ivy raised an eyebrow. Her hair, orange as a fire and just as bright, almost as if it glowed with a light of its own, seemed to be moving. Her skin was slightly greener, her body harder. Yet it was unmistakeable.
"But how?"
She chuckled. At least the sound was the same, a rich, deep laugh that turned Harley's lips up. "Harley, you know me better than anyone else. Surely you would know that I would grow back."