A/N: TRIGGER FOR DOMESTIC ABUSE WARNING. This chapter is definitely one I've worked really hard on. It's quite graphic in some areas, but I think I did Harley and the Joker's relationship (or my take on it throughout these stories) justice. Let me know if I should write more flashbacks for other characters! Enjoy.

"Why don't you tell me about yourself?" He countered, after dodging another one of her questions.

She rolled her eyes, "That's not how this works, Mister Joker."

"I would very much appreciate it if you would call me Mister J."

"If that would make you more comfortable, then sure."

"Do you know what else would make me more comfortable, Dr. Quinzel?" His voice was deep and dripping with every kind of emotion that ever existed. It was almost like he was about to be sent over the edge into a waterfall of everything that could possibly be felt.

She knew she shouldn't have been, but she was intrigued, "What?"

He took a deep breath, wiggling in his straight jacket slightly, as if to get comfortable. "You tell me something about yourself before I share all about me."

She raised an eyebrow, "How do I know you'll keep your end of the bargain?"

"It'll be like a game!" His eyes lit up, "You tell me something about yourself, then I'll tell you something about myself. We can go back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth! Like a Merry-Go-Round."

Her gut said no. Her head said no. The little hairs on the back of her neck said no. Every once of her said no but, "Yeah, sure. Why not?" was what left her lips.

"Miss Quinn." The man's voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Huh?" she blinked several times.

"How did it all start?"

She tilted her head at him, trying to think back.

"Well, my favorite color is blue." She stated flatly, not entirely sure what to share.

"No-no-no-no-no. Something more real than that?" He said, stomping his feet underneath his chair.

She tilted her head at him, "I'm not exactly sure what you want from me."

He nodded slowly, looking thoughtful for a moment. He smiled then, baring his silver teeth. "I got these from a good friend of mine."

She scoffed, "The Batman? I'd hardly call him a friend to you."

He leaned across the table then, his face inches away from hers. "He bashed my face in, breaking each and every perfect tooth, all because I played a little joke on Commissioner Gordon." His breath smelled like a mixture of mints and cigarettes, wherever he could be getting either of those things was a mystery to her.

"What kind of joke?"

"Ah-ah-ah-ah-ahahah. You're turn."

She brought her pen to her mouth chewing on her cap. "I've always been a straight A student."

He raised an eyebrow. Well, the area his eyebrows should be, "And?"

"It wasn't enough."

He tilted his head, "Wasn't enough for…?"

"Enough for me."

"So he convinced you to play a ice breaker game, and it all went downhill from there?" Waller summarized.

Harley nodded slowly, "As you all might not know, madness is like gravity."

She raised an eyebrow, "Meaning?"

"Sometimes even the most sane people just need a little push,"

"I need a machine gun,"

"A machine gun?"

"I can get out of here that way. I can get you out of here that way."

Her eyes glimmered with hopefulness, "You'd really take me with you?"

He nodded quickly, smiling roughly at her, "I'll take you far away from places like this one, Harleen."

She scrunched her nose, "I don't care for that name,"

He laughed really loud for a few moments, "Good." His face turned serious, "We'll have to change that one."

She smiled at that, watching him as he pushed himself up slightly in his chair, leaning almost the entirety of his upper body onto the table between them. His eyes looked at hers pleadingly. When she leaned forward as well, copying his moments, he kissed her in a way that should've been illegal. It was too persuasive, too quick, too loving, too desperate, too real, too passionate, too much of all the things Dr. Harleen Quinzel's life had been lacking. Everything she was missing was in that kiss. That kiss opened up every part of her mind she'd hadn't thought to access before. The desperation, the blind faith and love, the dependence in another, all of that was open now. Open and ready for a life where those things could run free.

"When do you need the machine gun?" Her voice was small, almost like a squeak. Whether it was excitement or nervousness, she didn't know. She didn't really care either.

"You became a monster from that point on." One of the guards at the door behind her spat at her back.

She rolled her eyes, shoving her chair out and standing up quickly. She turned around and marched up to the man, looking him dead in the face. "You got a problem with that?"

"As a matter of fact I do. You've hurt a lot of people, this doesn't justify that." He said, however his tone was less confident when she got up in his face.

"Oh! You want an apology?" She said, a smile creeping onto her face. A toothy, rough-around-the-edges smile that scared any and all of her challengers.

The man shrugged shakily, backing down once he realized he had pricked at wall in her mind.

She grabbed the guard by his collar, shoving him against the door. "Why should I apologize for the monster I became when no one ever apologized for making me that way?"

The guard raised his hand up, ready to backhand the crazed woman.

"Hey! No." Waller shouted from across the room. The man shook his head, lowering his hand as Harley let him go, walking back to her chair, slumping back down in it, placing an elbow on the table, her hand supporting her head and covering half her face.

"You said that no one ever apologized for making you this way. What made you this way?"

"That way." Harley corrected, "I like to think I've gotten a little bit better."

Waller tilted her head, shrugging, "Maybe."

She entered the club on his arm. Literally, she was wearing a choker with a chain attached to a metal bracelet on his right wrist. It was about four feet long, gold and diamond encrusted, something she wouldn't have been caught dead in three weeks ago, when she was still Dr. Quinzel. She stayed close to him, careful not to touch him though. He told her that when he works he doesn't want her all over him. Only when it is essential for him closing a deal. The whole thing felt a little weird to her, but she wasn't going to complain. Her Puddin had set her free! This was her life now, and she'd have to learn to accept that.

"Aye yo J!" A man with tattoos all over his arms called from his booth. His hair was long and dyed all sorts of colors. He seemed like a nobody, but Mistah J smiled crazily at the man, tugging her chain harshly to follow him as he headed to the booth. He walked over and sat down, pulling her into his laugh. She smiled and giggled at that, just in the way he had taught her. She was really happy her Puddin was hugging her and loving her, but she had to oversell it in front of clients and business partners. He rubbed on her back as he talked with the man about getting guns? Cars? Something that seemed important to him, she wasn't really paying attention. She was so fascinated by the goings on around her. He owned his place? Well, of course he did. The club was called The Funhouse, and well, it wasn't wrong at all. There were cages with women dancing in them, large, fully stocked bars with clown bartenders on every wall in the room, neoncolored beading around all the private booths in the back. The strobe lights were blaring and changing colors as a man with a torn up, bloodied bunny rabbit mascot head and a crisp tuxedo manned the DJ booth, playing any and all kinds of music, as long as it was fast, loud, and met by the crowd with cheers and erotic dancing. She felt herself smile, she didn't know where to start. Everything looked so exciting, she couldn't wait for her Puddin to be done so he could dance with her.

"Pumpkin. Sit." His voice was commanding as he brought her back to reality. Oh, right. She knew this part. She was supposed to climb off of him and sit on her knees on the floor next to his seat. She didn't like it all that much, but she loved the smile on Mistah J's face when she did it. She sat down on the purple and green tiled floor, looking up flirtatiously at Mistah J's "friend," across the booth from them.

"Damn, J. Who's the new girl?" The man stated as he let out a low whistle, his attention had completely shifted from the intense conversation with Mistah J to Harley sitting on the floor.

Her dress was a two piece, black with mesh netting that was decorated with sequins. Her toned, pale stomach showed off her new tattoo, "Lucky You," and the one on the small of her back, a pair of eyes with "He's Always Watching" and a J as the nose. She wasn't much for these tattoos either, but it made her Puddin smile, so she was as happy as could be.

"This is my one and only!" He stated proudly, staring down at his new creation. She was doing pretty well, sitting quietly and smiling when she knew she should. He ran a hand threw her curled, dyed hair, twirling the ends between his fingers as he just admired her for a moment. "Lucky for you though, I'm not her one and only!" He stared at her as her eyes widened a little bit. "Would you like a taste?" He asked expectantly as he stared at the man across from him, the man who was staring at Harley.

"Yes, yes I would." He nodded quickly, his eyes darkening and voice growing huskier by the second.

He rubbed Harley's back before slapping it, making her stand at the shock and the sting. "You belong to him for the rest of the night, Darling! You're my present to this tall drink of water!" Mistah J said as he put his hand with a tattoo of a smile over his mouth.

She stared at him slowly as he took off his bracelet, handing it over to the man next to him. "She's wild, don't let her get far." He said with a wink at the man across the table.

"No way," she breathed quietly, not believing what was really happening. She loved her Puddin, but this? She didn't even know this man's name?

J's face snapped from the man to hers, his smile faltering quickly, "What was that, Cupcake?"

"I just thought," she began to stutter, she didn't like the way he was looking at her, "I just thought you were my one and only too!" Maybe that would make him feel better. Some reassurance? She dated a guy in college who loved to hear stuff like that. Yeah, men like reassurance.

He looked at the man who looked taken aback and suddenly uncomfortable. "I'll give you two a minute. Let me know when she's ready," He said with a forced smirk as he got up, pushing the thick layer of beads aside as he headed out to the main area of the club.

It wasn't until she watched the man leave that she realized how secluded the booths are from the actual club scene, thanks to the bead lining in place of actual walls. You can kinda sorta see through them, but it was enough to create the illusion of complete privacy.

The look he gave her was so emotional there was nothing. It was like he had gone full circle, feeling everything that could possibly be felt and now he had come back to a sense of numbness. He slipped the bracelet that came with her choker back on his wrist, palming his face out of embarrassment. Despite the fact that his face wasn't showing it, he was humiliated. She could tell.

"Didn't we agree you do what I say?" He said softly, using both his hands to rub his temples, as if a headache was coming on.

He was so calm, but she knew he was mad. Anger was rippling off of him, as if he was pavement and the sun was shining on it on a hot, summer day. It was reflecting and causing her to feel less and less safe as the silent seconds droned on. He looked up, across the table at her, looking her in the eyes. "I'm waiting."

She stammered, a jumble of words and thoughts attempting to come out, but she couldn't find a real answer. Being giving away like she was just some puppy he was trying to get rid of? It was so blatantly wrong, she didn't feel like she should have to explain why.

"Well, normally-" He yanked his wrist back behind his head, sending her neck first onto the table, the man's bottle had broken under her 115 pound body, broken glass lodged into her the front of her shoulders and upper arm.

"We are NOT normal." He growled, taking off his bracelet and latching it to the table's metal stool that supported it. "I'll send him back in in five minutes."

She looked back up at him, tears freely flowing, "You're a monster!"

He stopped short at that, his breathing becoming heavy as he closed the beaded canopy and turned on his heel back to her. He strided towards her, taking her by her jaw and forcing her to look him in the eyes. His face was in a snarl, his eyes were narrowed and anger filled them to the brim, ready to explode. Instead of hitting her or worse (which was what she had expected at this point), he kissed her in that illegal way again. She kissed him back, somehow finding joy in the horrible situation he had gotten herself into.

He pulled apart, a smile on his lips, "Yes, yes I am. But you chose me, so now you're a monster too."

"Did you feel like your life was constantly at stake?" The Attorney General inquired, trying to get a better understanding.

Harley stared at him for a moment, "Yes. But I convinced myself to enjoy that aspect of it."

"But why?" The man that had once insulted her, calling her a monster about an hour before asked. His voice sounded interested, but soft. Like he was on the edge of his seat, but there was sympathy laced within his desire to know.

She looked over her shoulder at him, a sad smile forming on her face. "Cause sometimes it was good."

She skipped into his office, she had had a wonderful afternoon. He gave Frost one of his credit cards and a machine gun and Frost took her shopping. They didn't even have to use the gun! Shewould never admit that, but even after a year with her Puddin, she preferred shopping without using guns. Her arms were piled high with different bags of baseball bats, hair dye, lingerie, various brightly colored party dresses, makeup, and some shampoo and conditioner. She was so happy to have gone shopping. She was ready to put on some of her purchases and model them for Puddin'.

"Puddin'!" She said in a sing-song manner, sliding through the door, dropping her things at the threshold.

He turned around in his large, leather business-titanesque chair. Smiling genuinely as she entered the room.

"Baby!" He said as he opened his arms and stood.

She ran to him and jumped, he picked her up and spun her around as she giggled. He planted a kiss to her temple, "I missed you."

She pulled away for a moment, smiling happily, "Really?"

He took her face in one of his hands, "Of course." He kissed her gently. "Why don't I have them cook us up some dinner, and you can show me all you got today?" His voice got higher at the end of the statement, but she knew it wasn't a question. Anything the Joker wanted was never up for discussion, and this time, she didn't want to discuss it.

"What kind of terms were you on with the Joker before you left for Belle Reve?" The man asked, scratching his bald head with the tip of his pen.

She leaned back then, blowing out some air but angling her lips slightly upward, blowing a loose few strands of hair out of her face. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember the last time she was with Mistah J before she was captured by Batsy.

It came to her, but, "I don't remember," was all she offered.

"You're lying," Waller barked back.

"You don't wanna know,"

"I think I do."

"Just drop it. It has nothing to do with ya sad attempt to bring him to the squad."

"We can bring Zoe Lawton in here at any time, Quinn."

She took a deep breath, "Okay,"

She was sitting on the toilet, smiling brightly at the little pregnancy test in her hand. Positive. Finally. Now Mistah J will stop chasing the Bat, and he'll marry her.

She padded across the house, opening and shutting his bedroom door quickly. It was still a little dim, the morning was drawing to a close, the early afternoon sun was breaking through his purple curtains, lighting up different areas of the room. His sleeping figure in his large, circular bed. She liked to watch him sleep, despite having separate bedrooms. He looked so peaceful and rested. She loved seeing him this way, it probably was the most real thing about him. She was incredibly happy, but something inside her told her not to tell him at this moment. She took a deep breath, running her hands through her hair as she looked down at the positive test in her hand. She backed out of the room slowly, closing the door gently as not to wake him. She decided to take a bath and figure out what to do.

She had been laying in there for awhile, the water was warm, soothing. She had low music playing in the background as she laid back, her head propped up on the edge of the tub, staring at the ceiling. She really wanted a family. She knew she was ready to settle down and leave Gotham, but was Mistah J? The bat infestation was still at large, but maybe he'd go away if Mistah J left? She didn't care much if that bat lived or died, if she was going to be honest. She only cared because her Puddin' cared. But if he decided to leave Gotham and settle down with her, she wouldn't mind if Batsy lived a full life after they were gone. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. She was pregnant, with the love of her life's baby. She should be happy. She was happy, she just didn't know how Mistah J would handle it. Whenever she tried to get him to talk with her about settling down, he would brush it off, blame it on work. She shook her head violently, willing her doubt away. Her Puddin loves her, he would settle down to help her with this family. Their family.

The door slammed open, hitting the wall behind it with a crunching sound. She opened one eye slightly, looking at the hole in the wall the doorknob had left. Mistah J was mad, she did right not tell him just yet.

"Cupcake?" He said sharply, standing at the threshold of her bathroom.

She opened her eyes full, sitting up and leaving against the side of the tub, facing him head on. "Yes, Puddin?"

"What's this?" He held up the test with shaking hands.

She gulped slightly, here goes nothing. "We're expecting," She said quietly, beginning to feel small.

He shook his head harshly, "No-no-no-no-no. This isn't a part of the plan." His tone was even, but dangerous.

She tried to reach for her towel, to get up and comfort him. Tell him it was going to be okay. They were pregnant! This was a happy time, "Puddin it's gonna be okay-"

"NO. It is not gonna be okay." He said angrily, taking the towel from her grasp and tossing it across the room. "How could you be so fucking stupid?" He asked with fire brewing in his eyes, his finger pressing sharply against her chest.

Suddenly, she felt angry. This wasn't her fault, this wasn't even a problem. They were going to be parents. "Well I didn't do this to myself," She snapped back, fire that mirrored his brimming in her eyes.

His eyes widened, shocked by her lack of normal submission. "I never wanted this," he growled after a moment, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her violently, "Get rid of it."

"I wanted this. You knew I wanted this." She replied simply, tears sliding down her cheeks, but her voice was even, confident.

His grip on her shoulder tightened, his nails digging into her skin. It was stinging, burning. She felt warm liquid sliding down her upper arms. He had drawn blood. She shook under his grip, "You're hurting me." She met his eyes, hoping to find some reason and compassion within his. They were empty of all the good she'd hoped to find.

"You gonna get rid of it?" He muttered as he pressed harder, getting close enough to her face that she could smell his breath. Morning breath. He must've found the test and flipped out before he did anything else that morning.

"No." She said defiantly. She wanted a baby. It wasn't a mystery to him either.

He stared at her for a moment, "Fine then." He muttered as he gripped her harder, shoving her down into the water, holding her under as she struggled. He was going to do it, he was going to kill her. She was going to drown at the hands of her Puddin. Her arms reached the surface, breaking out of the water and scratching desperately at his stiff arms. She scratched until she could feel his blood on her fingertips, and she scratched some more. Her vision began to blur under the water, the light reflecting on the surface began to dim, his vibrant green hair and starkly contrasting white skin began to dull. She was going to die. She began very aware of the situation as she stopped fighting back, her lungs on the verge of an explosion. She was losing air, and she was going to die.

As her eyes began to slide shut, he yanked her out and dropped her against the side of the porcelain, laughing as she gasped for air. Her waist was against the side, her legs still soaking in the water that was going to be her casket just seconds ago, while her upper body was sprawled over the other side, her bleached and dyed hair dripping against the tiled floor, puddles of the bath water and the water that had invaded her mouth blended together as she coughed it up, gasping and heaving for the air she'd missed under his actions. She pushed herself up weakly after a few moments of breathing deeply, absorbing as much air as she possibly could.

"Pumpkin," He said, furrowing the skin where his eyebrows would be together, concern painting his face. She met his eyes and began to dry heave before sobs broke through her surface, escaping uncontrollably as he looked at her sympathetically. He bent down, grabbing her by her tender, bruised and bloody arms and gently helping her to her feet. She wasn't even surprised by his sudden change of mood, it always happens this way. One minute he's angry and kicking her like a disobedient dog, the neck he's comforting her and cradling her like a hurt child. All her anger and betrayed feelings evaporated once he held her, stroking her damp hair while she cried into his chest.

"Honey, Baby, Sweetheart," he said sweetly, his words quickening with each syllable, "It's gonna be okay,"

She nodded into his chest, pulling away to let a weak smile form on her face as she looked at him, "I'm glad you think you, Puddin."

He smiled at her as well, nodding for a moment as he looked down. His smile began to contort, but she was too high on the prospects of him gladly accepting his upcoming fatherhood. He was angry at first, but that was just because he was nervous. He had accepted it now, and was happy to be starting a family with her.

He leaned away from her, keeping his face concealed from her weary delight as he moved quickly, bringing his hand back swiftly, connecting it with the side of her face. He wasted no time once she fell from the shock of his hand, kicking her in the stomach harshly as she rolled onto her side, attempting to get up. She stayed down at that, feeling his foot connecting sharply with her stomach and ribs. She didn't remember much after that. She remembered screaming at him as he kicked her over and over again. She remembered coughing up blood once he stopped, but he only stopped when he saw blood leaking between her legs. She moved her hands from her stomach after that, her feeble attempts of protecting their child had failed, so she covered her face in shame. He growled under his breath as he left the bathroom, leaving her in a crying, bloody heap of broken dreams and shattered motherhood on the floor. She had failed her baby, and he had made sure of that.

She didn't leave the bathroom floor for days. The blood dried in her teeth long after she stopped coughing it up. The blood dried between her legs and the sharp pains in her ribs evaporated into dull, hitched breaths. After about 72 hours, Frost came in, picking her up bridal style and carrying her to the bed. He had soft pajamas prepared for her as he dressed her, cleaning her and bandaging her before putting her to bed. She cried silently while he did it, but he didn't say anything to her. Not that she had remembered anyway. She stayed in bed for another few days, only getting up when Frost insisted she see a doctor to properly look over his injuries, her miscarriage. She hadn't seen Mistah J within all that time, but when she got back from their private team of doctors, there was a diamond patterned black and white sparkly dress on her bed, with a long, apologetic note from him. She smiled a little, but willed it away. She was mad, but a little happy that he was going to take her on a date night.

He came in as she was reading it, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I'm sorry," He whispered in her hair. She shook her head a little bit, happy to see him after so long but the hurt of him killing their baby was still fresh. "I want all the things you want, Baby. I do," She shook her head at that, stopping as he gripped the side of her face gently, stopping her from resisting him. "I just don't want the Batman at large while we raise our child. He would be too dangerous to have in a world where we had a family, you know that." She nodded at that, beginning to understand his point of view. "-So, in a way. The Batman killed our baby," He finished, with palpable sadness and pain in his voice. It was then she realized, they would never have a family as long as there was a Batman. He was going to take her out so she could dance in her box to forget about the last few days' events. It was all because of the Batman.

"Jesus, Quinn," Flag breathed after a few moments of silence. He had walked in to inform them Floyd was waiting in the parking lot for her with his daughter. He stayed to hear her story, but he wished he hadn't.

She was looking at the wall between Waller and Flag. She didn't seem to be there anymore. Even Waller took a moment to think over what she would say next.

"Is Deadshot aware of any of this?" She asked firmly, clearing her throat to find her voice.

She snapped out of her trance at that, shaking her head violently. "No,and he's not gonna find out." She stared Waller down, her expression hard, but her eyes were pleading. It was a moment of vulnerability for Harley, and it was a rare one at that.

She nodded slowly, agreeing silently to keep him in the dark of what she revealed in here. She didn't do it out of sympathy, despite the fact that that may have been what it looked like to Flag, the guards, and the Attorney General. This was just more information she could leverage, though she'd only use it if she absolutely had to. There were some things that were just too far over the line, even for Waller.

"Can you tell us about your first real relationship exchange with Floyd Lawton?" The man asked, blinking several times from her story, maybe trying to conceal tears? She shook her head at this man, he's such a pussy.

"Ask her," She pointed at Waller, mumbling sharply.

The man turned back to Waller, who took a deep breath as she pulled a tablet out of her case. "Midway City seven months ago,"

She sat up straighter at that, "No, no."

Waller unlocked her tablet and scrolled for a moment, before placing it on the metal table in front of her. It was security camera footage from the roof of the building where J had rescued her. She clicked on the screen, showing Floyd standing in his riot gear, watching her fly away, blowing a kiss at him as she flipped on the rope she was climbing.

"Deadshot! Shoot that woman right now," Waller bounded around the corner from her hiding spot, glaring at him as she angrily pointed at her while she flew away.

He laughed at her, "She ain't do shit to me."

"You're a hitman,?"

He nodded quickly, "How about a contract? Kill Harley Quinn. Do it for your freedom and your kid."

Deadshot stared at her for a moment, raising both his eyebrows. "On she dead." He snapped back, taking his sniper from the attachment on his suit. He leaned against the ledge, angling his gun at her. He stared at her through the scope for a moment, blinking several times. His expression changed slightly before pulling the trigger. She fell from the rope, hanging off the bottom as she pretended to be dead. She popped up after a second, laughing at Waller and Flag as she flew away.

He turned around, walking towards Waller. He bent down in her face, taking a heavy breath, "I missed." As he walked around her to the rest of the squad smiling at him and patting him on the shoulder.

After a few moments, she talked into her walkie talkie and the helicopter Harley had escaped in went up in smoke crash landing in the middle of the city. The squad looked somber, no one spoke for a moment. They probably thought she was dead. Floyd dropped his head for a moment, before lifting it up and watching the helicopter she was in burn and break under Waller's orders.

"You couldn't save her," Digger muttered as they all walked away, leaving Deadshot to watch the helicopter with a heartbroken expression.

She didn't say anything after a moment. She just stared at the tablet's screen. It was a blurry security camera still of Floyd watching the flames, looking defeated. After a few seconds she looked back at Waller. She was standing with her eyebrows raised and her arms over her chest. She nudged the Attorney General's back to get him to face her, "Since Midway." She nodded expectantly as he wrote it down.

Floyd and Zoe had been waiting hours for her. He had picked her up, gone to the meet and even danced with her. The fathers and daughters had danced in the meeting, to prove they knew how. Apparently there's some type of formation the groups need to be in before they can break off and do their own thing. The whole thing seemed really stupid to Floyd. He had quite bigger fish to fry at that moment, but it was important to Zoe. Also, if he hadn't done it, Harley would've fought with him over it when she was released. The last thing she needs after hours of rehashing her best and worst times with the Joker is a fight once she gets home. He had gotten Zoe McDonald's for dinner. She was worried about Harley, but she wasn't going to complain. She just wanted her to be alright, and despite the fact that her father had told her everything with Harley was fine, she could sense her father was nervous. He was nervous in a way he never got when it came to his mother. Harley carried herself like she didn't need anybody, but that didn't stop Floyd from caring tirelessly about her. It was sweet in Zoe's eyes, really. That's why she didn't complain when Floyd said he was going in to check on her, having Zoe lock the car behind him so she could keep the keys and listen to the radio.

Floyd walked in, preparing to raise Hell on Flag and Waller until they released her, but she was being released once he stepped through the door. They were giving her her stuff back, new cell phone, jewelry, anything that was in her pockets at the desk. She wasn't looking at him, but Flag was. Something looked off with him. He looked shaken up almost, like he had been the one in the interrogation chair. When he tapped her on the shoulder, squeezing it for a moment before she brushed him off, giving him an irritated look. "This doesn't change anything, Flagy. I'm still me!" She said, blowing a kiss to him, but it all seemed forced. Floyd sighed, some mad shit must've gone down in there. Flag never pitied Harley. In fact, for awhile, he thought she was the worst of them.

She spun on her heel then, meeting Floyd's eyes. She smiled weakly as she walked towards him, passing him without a word as she exited. She followed suit, surprised at how fast she exited without even saying anything to him.

"Harley…"

"What?" She didn't even look over her shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

She turned then, walking towards him slowly. He was a little thrown off, usually he could tell what she was about to do, but she couldn't. She took a deep breath, blinking fiercely for a moment before pulling him into a hug. "No, but I will be."

Next Chapter: Harley keeps the details of her time in the interrogation room with Waller a secret, despite Floyd's pleading. After an argument, Floyd opens up more about his past with Harley.