A/N: Bit of rush getting this one up, because unfortunately I am currently in the middle of moving into an apartment and thanks to the fact that all internet providers are either evil or stupid, I probably won't have reliable internet access until Monday. I'm also starting my first year of graduate school at that point, so updates are likely to be fewer and further between. And, as usual, I am going to undignifiedly prostrate myself and beg for R&R! =D

Sequestered

Ivy groaned. Why had she agreed to wait at this stupid hospital while Cat went back to get some lovely rest and relaxation? She could easily have made the argument that since she hadn't slept at all, she ought to be the one going home. Why hadn't she? Cat had been perfectly willing to stay!

But she had clearly been so tired. So emotionally exhausted. She obviously thought the whole thing was her fault (which was stupid, Ivy thought, just about as stupid as Harley's assertion of the same damn thing.) She's just looked at Ivy with those damn puppy-dog (fine, kittenish) eyes, and somehow Ivy had found herself saying in a calm voice, "I'll stay, Selina. You go home and get some rest."

Honestly. She was getting soft. But it was true that she didn't need quite as much sleep as a—normal person. Sunlight was vastly helpful in that regard. She sighed and stretched and felt profoundly thankful that the sun had come out from behind the dark clouds that had covered the sky the night before. She was still feeling a little groggy from her night without sleep, but at least, now that Gordon and his brat had left and Harls was sleeping, she could have a little peace.

A resounding shriek sounded from the next room.

"Oh god," Ivy said profoundly. She thought about just sitting here. It was probably a spider. Harley wasn't very good with spiders.

Ivy got up, cursing at herself and Harley and everything else she could think of, stalked over to the room and flung the door open. "Harley, what the hell is it now—"

Hush was bending over her friend, one finger pulling up the injured corner of her mouth, and Harley, dazed and hurt, was unable to wriggle away.

"Get. Away. From. Her," growled Ivy, stepping into the room.

Hush looked up. He was smiling gently, in a way Ivy had never seen him do before, not that she was particularly conversant with Hush's habits.

"Eve must be cleansed," he said, his voice silky and low with menace, and the look in his eyes made Ivy's stomach turn over. There was something alien and dark in there. Hush flipped a knife out from his sleeve—not a switch-blade, but a kitchen knife, long and sharp and gleaming, which he pressed to Harley's throat. She moaned, a gurgling, pitiful noise.

"We would not advise you to move," he said sweetly.

Ivy glanced to the window. It was such a pity for Hush that the hospital had left a set of golden marigolds on the sill to brighten the room.

"All right," she said calmly. "I won't move."

He began to trace the knife down Harley's chest. Cloth parted and blood began to well up. Harley squealed in pain, and then Hush huffed in astonishment as a green tendril entangled his wrist, yanking the blade away.

"You know, if I get this to squeeze hard enough, I could probably break your hand," Ivy said conversationally, walking slowly toward him. "That doesn't sound as if it would be very pleasant of me. On the other hand—"

Hush hissed in pain as the vine constricted. "—I'm not feeling too pleasant today," Ivy concluded. A second vine whipped out and caught him around the neck. "You know, honestly, I'm feeling so unpleasant that I'm just not sure how willing I am to leave you to the police again."

Hush's face began to grow red with the effort of drawing breath.

"I might even be able to rip your head off," Ivy smirked. "But I don't want to get the hospital room all dirty."

Hush's lips moved.

"What? I couldn't quite catch that," Ivy smiled, swaying sensuously forward.

"You will be cleansed," spat Hush. The hand holding the knife twisted in a contortion a human shouldn't have been able to perform, and the vine around it was sliced in two. Ivy shrieked in outrage as he tore the other vine from around his neck and leaped backward from the bed into the open window-frame.

"We are Hayyoth," Hush thundered at the top of his lungs, and there was an odd, bell-like resonance to his words. "We will cleanse you, Eve—do not forget it. Await us!"

He leapt lightly down from the second story window and was gone in an instant. Ivy gave a sad glance at the now-wilting marigold, sighed, and hurried over to Harley, who was blubbering like a baby again.

"Harls," she said softly. "It's okay. He's gone."

"S-sorry," Harley sniffled, gaining control of herself with an obvious effort. "I was just so scared, and I hate bein' scared like that."

Ivy rolled her eyes but stroked the girl's hair. "It's pretty scary when you don't know what's going on," she admitted. She sighed. "Much as I hate to say it, we should probably give the commish a call. It looks like the Eve thing just got bumped to high priority."

Barbara Gordon arrived within minutes of having been telephoned, along with an extremely irate and bedraggled-looking Cat.

"What happened to you?" Ivy asked, and Harley started to giggle. After what had happened, Ivy didn't feel right about leaving her friend alone, so everyone was squeezed into Harley's tiny hospital room.

"My sister happened," Catwoman said gruffly. She glanced at Barbara, who was leaning back in her wheelchair with a noncommittal look on her face. "Why is she here?"

Barbara pushed her glasses up her nose. "I'm here," she said, in a stern voice, "Because Ivy just succeeded in driving off Thomas Elliot for the second time."

Catwoman stopped in the doorway, the expression on her face as if a truck had hit her. "What?"

"Hush came back," Harley muttered unhappily. "While you were gone."

The dark-haired woman looked as if she might faint, so Ivy got up and steered her none-too-gently to a chair. "Sit," she said.

"Okay," Barbara Gordon said. "Now that the whole family's here—"

"Ooh! If we're a family, does that make me the mommy?" Harley asked, bouncing excitedly until she was forced to stop with a gasp of pain.

"More like the baby," muttered Ivy.

"Ladies," Barbara said sternly. "If you wouldn't mind. From what you told Dad over the phone, Ivy, it sounds as if you three are in serious trouble."

"That's a serious understatement," Harley put in. She was in a surprisingly chipper mood, though Ivy suspected it had something to do with the rose she had just finished stripping of its petals. She was fairly certain she had heard, 'He loves me!' followed by a squeal just before Babs entered. Barbara gave Harley a stern look, and she subsided.

"Hush was here, you said, Ivy? What was he doing?"

"Tryin' to kill me, I think," Harley put in, a little more subdued.

"He called Harley Eve. Actually, he may have called me Eve as well. It was somewhat unclear. He also said that Eve had to be 'cleansed.'"

"Urgh," Selina groaned. "I just barely made it back in one piece from listening to my kid sister spout pretty much the same thing."

"All right. So the information we have is Eve, Hush, and Magdalene Kyle. Not a lot to go on," Barbara said thoughtfully.

"There's somethin' else," Harley put in, and the other three looked at her. "There is. Hush said, 'we are Hayyoth.'"

"So did Maggie," Selina said, draping herself over Barbara's wheelchair.

"Hayyoth?" Ivy said. Now that Harley mentioned it, she'd heard Hush say the same thing, but since she hadn't recognized the word, it hadn't registered.

"The highest order of angel in Jewish mysticism," Barbara said absentmindedly. "Maybe that is something."

"How did you—"

"Wikipedia."

"Yeah, I thought we talked about them one year in Jewish school," Harley added.

Barbara typed away at the computer for a few more seconds. "This would really work better in my tower," she said, with a sigh. "I don't know. I'm not getting anything about any kind of organization or anything that would do this."

"I don't think it can just be an organization," Selina said. "I mean, Maggie was talking like a multiple personality. Or like there was something else in her head."

"So was Hush," Ivy added. "And I don't see Thomas Elliot as the kind of person who would put something like that on."

"Nor do I," Barbara agreed. "I'm going to have to do some more research on this. In the mean time, I can alert the Justice League and get—Batman on the case."

"Yes. That pause makes us all feel so confident," Ivy drawled.

Barbara frowned at her. "You know, we are trying to help you," she pointed out. "Although I'm not entirely sure why…"

"Aw, Babs." Harley laid a hand on her arm. "We know you're tryin' to help. Red's just lettin' off some steam, that's all."

"Mmmhmmm," Barbara responded. "Well, look, you three. Since we have no idea who is behind this, I think the best thing is to have you hole up in a location where nobody will be able to find you."

Selina stalked to her feet, cracking her bull-whip so suddenly that the other three jumped. "I don't like hiding!" she exploded. "If Bruce were here—"

Ivy fluffed her hair. "Well, the Bat—the real Bat—isn't here. So we're going to have to do what we can without his oh-so-coveted help. And Barbara has a point. Since we don't know who is after us, the only thing we can do is lie low until we know what we're up against."

Catwoman sighed. "You're right, of course. I just wish I knew what had happened to Maggie…"

"All right," Barbara said. "I'm going to make a few calls. Listen—the only thing that's important is that you don't tell anyone where you are. Got that?"

"Of course," Ivy answered. She was frankly bored and irritated with the entire thing. Catwoman nodded.

"Huh? You say somethin'?" Harley asked. She had been fingering one of her roses again.

"Don't tell anyone where we are when we go into hiding, Harley!" Ivy said extremely loudly.

"Yes, Red," Harley said meekly.

Ten hours later, the three of them were ensconced cozily in a nice little apartment where no one knew of their existence. Selina had settled in for a long cat-nap, and Ivy, who also hadn't had a terrific amount of sleep lately, was thinking of copying her. She had just laid her head down on the nice, comfortable-looking pillow, when the phone rang.

"Oh, god," Ivy groaned, pulling the pillow over her head.

"I can get it!" Harley called from her bed, and she relaxed. Yes, let Harley get it. Nothing could go wrong with that…

Ivy drifted off to sleep still wondering why she felt as if her thoughts were getting a little confused.