"I keep feelin' I've been framed
You stitch me up now I'm tailor made"

Don't Talk to Me, The Boomtown Rats

Harleen finally woke up the next day, or was it night? It was November and the days were getting short, she couldn't tell if it was before sunrise or after the sun had already set. She was alone in her bed and the sides of her mouth burned intensely. Her head also ached, probably dehydration from all the crying and blood loss. Then she realized there was a dull ache in her abdomen and remembering why that was caused tears to well up in her eyes. She knew it was natural to be sad for the loss of their child and of course upset about the assault but she felt like something else had been cut up and killed yesterday, her trust and belief in the man she loved. He'd told her this whole time he was working as a security officer for a corporation. He never wanted her to come see him at work but that seemed perfectly normal, she wasn't really thrilled to have him visit her on campus after all. They got so caught up in each other when they were together it was like the rest of the world didn't exist and that wasn't really conducive to a work environment, especially when it's your job to keep things secure. But he hadn't been working security at all or maybe he had for a while and then left the job. She didn't really know. She thought she knew everything about Jack and now to find out how much was going on that she could never have even imagined. She knew the only thing to do was talk to Jack and try to figure out what was really going on but she couldn't even stand the thought of looking at him right now.

As though on cue he chose that moment to walk into the room. He looked exhausted, like he'd been up all night. His normally golden brown curls were dark and limp as though he hadn't showered in a couple of days. He was carrying a glass of water and a bottle of pills. He had put a straw in the glass, still thoughtful even if the rest was all a lie. He sat on the bed as far from her as he could while still being able to hand her the pain medication. They could always read each other so well and he knew she didn't want him to touch her right now.

"You need to take this for the pain, every six hours for the first couple of days they said. After that they want you to switch to over the counter stuff." He said quietly while handing her the pill. It was Hydrocodone, at least she could count on sleeping a lot the next day or two. That was good, better than being awake and confronting this head on.

"Do you want to talk about anything now or…. I mean I know we need to talk but I know your mouth must hurt too." Harleen looked up from the bedspread she had been staring a hole into just long enough to take the water from him and noticed the skin on his knuckles was bruised and bleeding. Did he punch a wall in anger or did he go out and find the guys that did this to her? While pondering that she realized her gaze had gone up to his face and not wanting to risk eye contact she quickly looked down at the water. She wasn't ready for him to see the pain and anger in her eyes.

"The pill is going to knock me out again so maybe talking isn't best right now and yeah, my mouth really hurts. Just tell me one thing though, is it true? Are you really some sort of gangster?" She asked without looking up.

He sighed. "Yeah, it's true. This is all my fault. We just needed more money than I could bring in with any of the jobs I could find so I started working for the Morellos. Nothing big, the pay was better than anything else I could find but the work was still mostly legal. Then with the baby, we were going to need so much more. I mean working for the Morellos is steady but they don't exactly have an insurance plan for their employees. I knew I needed to bring in more, work my way up. I'm not connected like the other guys so I had to do something big, something that made a statement. If I had any idea that this would get you hurt of course I wouldn't have done it. God Harley, how am I supposed to live with having done this to you?" She could hear the pain in his voice but compared to her pain it seemed hollow.

"So this really was your fault. Or no I guess it was my fault, mine and the baby's because we needed money. If you had just told me it wasn't the right time. We could have waited, waited until we could afford it. I wouldn't be sitting here with an ache in my stomach from losing our baby and my face sewn up like some sort of monster." She didn't mean to get angry with him but with every word her voice got louder and more confrontational.

"No Harley, it was my fault, all of it. I'm so sorry. I know there is nothing I can do to make up for it. I know you probably hate me right now but I promise you I hate myself more. If it helps at all the guys that did this to you won't ever do anything like this again. And you don't look like a monster, you're beautiful, always so beautiful." She still wasn't looking at him as he spoke but felt him gently stroking her hair while he said the last bit. She wanted to flinch away from him, just to hurt him, but she couldn't. She automatically leaned in to his touch even though he was right, she did hate him right now. She knew that was just a passing emotion, she could never really hate Jack.

"What do you mean they won't do anything like this again? What did you do Jack?" And now she had to look into his eyes, had to know what kind of vengeance he had wrought in her name. There was something there that wasn't there before. Something dark in his formerly happy warm eyes. He'd killed those men, she didn't know how she knew but she was sure he did. With her realization she gasped and looked away from him as quickly as she could. He didn't answer her, just stood up and walked to the door.

"Try to get some rest, I'll bring you something to eat with your next pill." And with that he was gone and she had no choice but to lay back and let the tears run down her face until the medicine forced her into unconsciousness.

Harleen slept fitfully for an hour or two until she was just too hungry to stay asleep. She couldn't even guess how many hours it had been since her last meal. Of course chewing with her stitches would probably be a problem though they didn't hurt so much now thanks to the pain medication.

"Jack. Jack, can you get me something to eat?" She called out but she couldn't raise her voice, the pull of the stitches at the sides of her mouth keeping her tone too low to be heard outside of the room. Oh well, no reason she couldn't get up, no one had injured her legs after all. She thought they maybe had some soup in the pantry. She was a bit light headed at first but after a minute or two of sitting up she was ok to stand. She walked through their small apartment calling Jack's name quietly as she went. She was looking for him and not down at her feet so it wasn't until she came to the light colored tile in the kitchen that she realized there was a pool of blood. She immediately worried that Jack had been injured. Looking around for any sign of him in the living room or kitchen area she noticed that there was also a bloody knife on the counter and the pool of blood drifted into a trail leading to the small guest bathroom near their front door. Jack must be hurt and had gone in there for the first aid kit. It seemed like a lot of blood though and he still wasn't answering her when she called. The door was closed. She knocked lightly afraid of what she might find behind the door. Her concern for her husband was battling her fear of this new violent idea of him that she had yet to fully understand.

"Just a minute hon, I'm almost done!" Jack called cheerfully from behind the door. He sounded perfectly fine, better than he'd sounded since before everything happened. But if he was ok then why was there so much blood?

Suddenly he pulled the door open and filled the doorway with his tall, thin frame. She looked up at him to ask about the blood but before she could form the question she saw his face. He was smiling at her but it was so red. Then she realized he had sliced up his own mouth just like the thugs had done to her. He had sewn them up with thread from her sewing kit. She could see all the bits and bobs strewn across the vanity behind him. Blood still seeped through the string and the act of sewing up his own flesh had made the stitches jagged and erratic. She took in a gasping breath and then looked into his eyes. Jack wasn't there any more, he was gone. She'd seen eyes like that a dozen times in her undergrad work, it was a look of a person in a state of madness. Jack had gone insane and the man she loved was nowhere to be seen.

That brought Harleen back to the present. Those same mad eyes were staring back at her from the computer screen except now there was a malevolence in them that wasn't there before. She wanted to rush to him and find out what was going on, how he had faked his own death and why he had turned into some sort of terrorist. She knew he might not give her any answers, the Jack she knew may be alive in body but in spirit she was sure he was gone. Her Jack could never have stayed away from her for five years. The news report had mentioned Arkham Asylum because it was being reopened just to house such a terrible madman. He was too crazy and dangerous to even let him near other people who were criminally insane. Somehow Harleen had to get a job at Arkham. They had made a vow to be together for better or worse. There was no stipulation about how much worse.