Characters belong to D.C

(Batgirl's POV)

It was raining the night I patrolled the city, rain glistening on pavement like glazed clay.

Shivering from the cold, I stuck around Gotham's alleyways, waiting for the downpour to halt.

I had been patrolling all night, searching for criminals, inspecting for traces of heinous plots prepared for the city. The Joker had escaped from Arkham two months ago, killing most of the guards and more or less currently planning some corrupted criminal act for poor Bruce to face. I really hated that clown.

"Ugh…"

I whirled around at the sound of the person, cursing myself for being so off-guard.

What I saw next was a horrid sight.

Harley Quinn limped out of the shadows of the alley, looking as if she were about to fall any moment. Her costume was torn; revealing parts of her bare skin covered in bruises and cuts. The corner of her mouth was bleeding and one of her eyes was almost completely swollen shut. I didn't have to know who had done this to her.

"Harley?"

Lifting her head up sharply, her one good eye glared at me with nothing less than hate.

"Well, if it ain't old Bratgirl. I'll bet your just dying to throw me back to the asylum. Just try."

She lifted her arms up weakly, trying to curl her bruised hands into fists, making a very pitiful attempt to fight.

"Harley…what did he do to you?"

She glowered fiercely at me, trying so hard to stand, acting like she wasn't hurt at all.

"Mistah J did nothin'! That was my fault. I got in his way!"

"Harley please-you're very hurt. Please come quietly and I promise that I'll get you immediate medical attention."

"I don't need medical attention! I'm fine and I'm not goin' back to Arkham. You better fight me before drawing any conclusions."

And just like that, she charged violently at me, shrieking with fury, trying to hurt me with her exhausted punches. It didn't take long for me to subdue her, causing her to collapse in a fatigued heap at my feet.

I stood there silently in the rain as Harley breathed rapidly, to weak from her abuse to continue fighting. In a random moment, she began laughing (the noise sounding like dying moans) as she licked the blood off her fists, squinting out of her good eye at me. Presently, her laughter regressed to mournful sobs, screaming through the rain, echoing in heart-broken wails against the landscape of my memory.

"Harley…"

I offered her a hand for support, hoping that I could peacefully transfer her to the authorities. No such luck: she refused the gesture and only continued to lie on the moist ground.

"Guess I screwed up again," she murmured sadly, staring at the ground in misery, "That's why Puddin' had to punish me. I've been a very bad girl."

"Where is the Joker, Harley?"

Her poor condition was another reason why I was craving for the clown to be brought to justice.

Harley shrugged limply, "I ain't tellin'. He was in such a big hurry to move that he forgot about me. Not his fault."

I sighed, trying to fathom why Harley continued to defend him, even after he had hurt her and left her behind. Harley truly was insane.

She gazed up at me and smiled forlornly, "Guess this means that I still gotta go to Arkham, huh?"

I fought back to urge to cry and comfort her. I never understood why a clinical psychiatrist would ever fall in love with someone as vile and evil as the Joker. In that moment, I pitied Harley more than anything.

Perhaps, we could have been friends in another life…

"The police should be here soon. Let's just wait a bit."

"Guess that's a 'yes'."

Blue and red lights flashed as the police arrived, gently scooping Harley onto a gurney.

Harley told them to wait for a moment before they shut the doors of the ambulance.

She smiled at me with sickly hope.

"If ya see Puddin' around, please tell him that I wish him good luck with his plot."

As the cars and trucks pulled away, I stood there in grieving silence. The rain had stopped briefly. But I knew that for Harley, the rain never stopped.

Her love would drown her in the end.