She's crying like a bitch.
There's tears pouring down over child-like full cheeks, her shirt is gone and the red bra strains against every heaving gulp of air she takes in. He's looming over her with his favorite knife. it's already craved her thighs up, blood staining the mattress like artwork, cuts that'll become forever reminders of who she really belongs to.
"Tsk tsk," His tongue clicks with disappointment, "Harley girl, you seem to be broken."
His hands pull her pigtails so hard she nearly passes out, if it weren't for the sharp smack that follows it she possibly would have right there. She's all feeling and it isn't good, everything is blurring into shades of green, white and purple. The red smile leers at Harley once more and it says, "Let daddy fix you."
She does.
..
Her doctor's name is Travis.
He doesn't make her call him Doctor. Tells Harley he thinks it'll be more beneficialto her treatment if they can be friends. Right? Friends? Friends inside concrete walls only one of them gets to leave at night. It even feels like her old times in college when he laughs at a few of her non-violent jokes and tells her stories about the latest hit tv shows she's missing.
Harley calls him Travis and he calls her Harley.
He calls her Harley when he holds her hand on him and whispers that it's ok and stop crying because we're friends this is what friends do, but Harley remembers friends and they didn't hold their hands over your mouth and tell you to lay still. After their sessions he pulls her Arkham issued pants up and sends her away with the guards.
The staff doesn't believe her when she says something. Her Mister J laughs.
..
The henchmen learned not to make passes at her pretty quickly.
Except one.
Joker finds him with Harley, held down on her knees with bruises on her arms he didn't make.
The goon's dead before he can speak. Harley lets out a relieved sob but stops short when her puddin simply takes the man's place in front of her against the cold brick wall of their current hideout and says, "Nobody touches my stuff but me."
..
Ivy is different.
It's all soft touches and giggles and interlocked legs, it's happy and feels nice and Harley doesn't understand it. She knows, at some time before everything got crazy, before she got crazy, this was normal. This is good. Red strokes her arms instead of pinning them, she makes her pretty flowers lean in and brush against Harley's bare legs.
Red makes colors burst and makes Harley feel like soaring.
Ivy doesn't treat her like she expects.