Hellooooooo! Thanks for the feedback that you guys have given me over the past few days. It's been really interesting to see what you like and don't like, and it's also given me ideas for...other stories. So if I don't get to include everything in this story, there's a high chance I might include it in the next. I'm honestly kind of excited for it. Given, of course, that my life gives me more time to write and relieve some stress.
As always, I hope you like this chapter.
Harley opened her eyes to find herself in a very cold room. She was in a normal bed, covered in soft white sheets that were neatly tucked underneath her. Her legs felt as heavy as her eyelids, both numb and sore from not having been moved in ages. After a few seconds, Harley discovered that her arms weren't in better condition. Everything was painfully stiff. It almost felt like being wrapped in plaster while your muscles ached. How long had she been…?
Well, wherever the hell she was at.
A light was shining down from overhead, its source being a big metal rod, almost like the kind dentists used to get a better look at the inside of their patients' mouths. The steady beeping sound to her right let her know she was hooked up to a machine and that it was keeping track of heart activity. But how in the hell did she get to a hospital? And more importantly, why?
There were voices around her, probably on the other side of the room judging by how soft they sounded. Harley could tell the voices belonged to two different people, but they were being much too quiet for her to make out exactly what they were saying. She turned her head to see who it was but had to squint her eyes to try and see through the darkness. Besides the light pointed directly at her face, the room was actually quite dark, much too dark to be a real hospital. Unless it was night time, which could also be a possibility. At the moment, Harley had no idea what time it was.
A plain black carpet adorned the floor while the walls were made of stone, giving Harley a reason to think it was probably why the room was so cold. Also, stone walls meant she was definitely not in a hospital. She was in something that looked like a normal room but with stone walls and a few medical supplies.
As soon as she started moving, the voices in the room stopped completely. The light was moved away from her face so as not to shine too harshly into her eyes, but Harley didn't have to see to know there was only one person in the room with her now. The sound of a door and retreating footsteps was audible from the far wall. Whoever the second person was had just left.
There was a dull but aching pain in her stomach and it took all of Harley's willpower not to scream when she felt a sting of agony shoot through her entire abdomen. Well, served her right. She probably shouldn't have tried to get up so quickly, but she couldn't help herself. There were too many questions in her mind and very few answers for them that she could come up with on her own.
The light, which was now pointed at the wall next to her bed, reflected out enough to illuminate the whole room. It was a strange place, to say the least. Very much like a hospital but not like one at all. There were medical supplies on the table against the wall but there was also a television, a stereo, and shelves full of books of all sizes. If it weren't for the lack of light, the room might seem peaceful, or even relaxing. The only reason Harley was relaxed now was because she was under medication. She could tell she was doped up due to the lightheaded state of semi-consciousness she was slowly waking up from. And with every second that went by, her mind became clearer and the pain in her stomach grew more and more painful.
With the silence that followed, it wasn't difficult to assume the identity of who was with her. There was only one person Harley knew who could become so completely silent and motionless. It was, however, strange to feel a sense of relief wash over her. Wherever she was, she was with the bat, and she knew he could be trusted.
At least that's what she hoped.
Harley's eyes scanned the darkness of the room in search of his huge form. When she finally spotted him, she wasn't surprised to see him staring at her eyes already. By now she was used to it, having suffered the tension of his gaze for weeks and weeks. Harley was silent for a moment, noticing the funny play of shadows on his suit. Because of the dark color of the carpet and the way his cape draped around him, it almost looked like he had shot up from the ground itself. Kind of like one of those ghosts in the scary movies she liked to watch as a kid.
"How are you feeling?" the bat asked her gently. She struggled to give a response because her throat was painfully dry but he didn't seem to mind waiting for her. Apparently he was in a patient mood today.
Harley cleared her throat as best as she could, inducing a few coughs. With each cough that erupted from her body, a sharp pain shot across her stomach and spread out to the rest of her. She shut her eyes tight and tried to stifle them, leading to more pain, this time in her chest. A cup was placed to her lips and she gratefully took it, gulping down the tepid water. When it was finally over, Harley opened her eyes and nodded towards the bat. "Good," she croaked out weakly. "I'm good."
"Are you in any pain?"
Harley shook her head as best as she could. "Not really," she lied. Of course, there probably wasn't any point in lying. The bat had obviously just seen what her condition was.
"It might be a few weeks before that's true, but you'll be fine. I expect a full recovery with no permanent damage except for a small scar."
Asking him what the hell he was talking about quickly became second priority when she remembered that her stomach was causing her more pain than she had ever felt in her life. Looking down and peeling the sheet away from her body, Harley noticed that she was wearing strange clothes, but that's not what surprised her the most. The shock came from seeing her entire midsection wrapped expertly in gauze.
She looked up at him with a horrified expression. "What did you do to me?"
The bat calmly held out his hand and revealed a tiny plastic vial, shaking it a few times. The thing made a rattling sound that Harley found rather annoying. Her ears were more sensitive due to the medication and the clicking was not a pleasant sound by any means.
"I had to remove the bullet and make sure there was no internal bleeding. The rest of that," the bat motioned with a finger, pointing at the gauze, "Is just to keep anything from getting infected."
All of a sudden, the events of the night before came crashing down on Harley, sobering her of any anger or confusion she was feeling. Hazy memories were all she had, but it didn't take long for her to put some of the pieces together.
"So I've been here all night?" she asked the bat.
"Yes," he said slowly. "And the night before. And the one before that."
Hmm. Three days. No wonder she felt so hungry.
Harley opened her mouth but paused, not sure how to ask in a way that didn't sound rude. Why she was here was no longer a mystery. Now for the next question.
"Where exactly am I?"
"Somewhere safe," the bat answered simply, the tone not leaving room for much else in terms of discussion. Harley got the hint not to be so curious and dropped her arms to her sides, staring at the ground. She was thinking of something else to ask when she heard him clear his throat. "You can rest assured you won't be found by anyone that's trying to hurt you. There's nothing to worry about."
He wouldn't tell her where they were at. Fine. It wasn't really too important to know where she was but she made a mental note to try and ask him again later. What she wanted to ask now, however, was: if there was nothing to worry about, why was he still in his suit? He was impeccably dressed, the damage done to his armor during the explosion at Arkham having been erased completely. Either he was really good at fixing it, or he had multiple suits. Was there something else he had to worry about, forcing him to leave it on so he could be ready to fight? Or was it something else?
The answer, after some very quick and logical thinking, came quickly to Harley. The mask wouldn't come off as long as he was in her presence. They were both physically safe from danger, but his identity wasn't safe from her.
Slightly irritated that he still wouldn't trust her, Harley puffed out her cheeks and let out a long breath of air. Hadn't she proved herself by now? She had refused to go with the clown and she had helped him out with his investigations. It might even be fair to say that if it weren't for her, Gotham might have lost a few city blocks due to that bomb he took away from the Italians. And there was no telling how many lives that included.
Yet here he was, fully dressed in his batsuit in a place he promised was safe. Harley wanted to throw herself backwards against the pillows in anger like a teenage drama queen but quickly decided against it. She figured sudden movements in her condition probably weren't healthy. Or pain free.
"You said I'm gonna have a scar?"
"I made sure to make the smallest incision possible when I dug the bullet out. It won't be big, but yes, you will scar."
Harley internally groaned. Great. Another scar. When she was doing bad things, she got scars. Even doing the right thing gave her marks. She already had enough of them and adding to her collection was the opposite of good fortune. Regular physical encounters with the law had scratched her up some, but the biggest scars she had were courtesy of the clown. On nights where the clown was particularly frustrated, he had taken a knife and carved on her and some of the goons…all for the purpose of relieving stress. It was frightening and sickening, but no one dared stop him. The only times it was pain free but just as terrifying was when everyone got to see him cut himself.
Remembering something else, Harley slowly reached up with her left hand and pulled the short sleeve of her right arm up to reveal the shoulder. A long, thin line of raised skin was lighter in tone than the rest of her, decorating her shoulder with a permanent scar.
"See this, bats?" she asked him.
"Yes."
Harley lifted up the corner of her mouth in a half smile. "Guess who gave that to me with a certain batarang?"
"That was the fourth time I came across you. I realized you weren't simply a one time partner for the Joker and it was going to be nearly impossible to get you to return to your old life. Since tearing you away from a life of crime was no longer as manageable, I made sure you at least dropped that bag of diamonds you were trying to steal from Gotham City Bank."
The teasing in her demeanor ended and Harley only stared, slightly shocked. The bat had one hell of a memory. She didn't remember it was the fourth time they had fought, or that it was Gotham City Bank that the clown and her were at. She did, however, remember dropping the bag of diamonds and crying out when the batarang sliced into her skin.
"Who woulda thought we'd get to be on different terms than we were back then, huh bats?" she mused.
"I can honestly say I didn't," he replied, causing her to smile again.
"How long will I stay here?" she asked, closing her eyes after she'd carefully laid back down.
"Until you're better."
"And then?"
The bat was silent, either ignoring her or not listening. Or he was thinking about the answer. Or maybe he had silently slipped out of the room while she wasn't looking. Too many possibilities.
When she could no longer hold the curiosity, Harley forced her eyes open and turned her head in his direction. A serious look was on his face but he hadn't moved even a single inch.
"Then," he began slowly, as if trying to choose his words carefully. "Then we can focus on getting you out of here. Away from Gotham, where you can start a new life."
A huge grin spread over Harley's face as soon as the bat's words registered in her mind. She could feel her heartbeat quicken with joy and hoped the sudden rush of blood didn't make her injury throb. Other than that, there was nothing that could ruin the moment. Batbreath didn't want to show her his face? Fine. She didn't care anymore.
She was finally going to get away.
Raising her arms slightly, Harley ran her thin fingers over her charm bracelet and thanked her parents for the good fortune they had sent her way. Mostly because she knew she didn't deserve it.
If months ago, someone had told her that she would be smiling like an idiot out of pure happiness while in the presence of an enemy and in a scenario where neither of them was trying to kill the other, Harley would have laughed.
But things were different now. Better.
Harley was getting along with the bat, planning her trip to a place that wasn't Gotham. He had rescued her more than once now and had even operated on her so that she wouldn't die. He had pulled her away from danger and away from the Joker…who had been the one to try and kill her. The clown had shot her right in the stomach, and she was pretty sure he hadn't meant to keep her alive after that.
Yes, things were much different now.
"Thank you," was all she could think of saying.
What else could she say? Besides, even if she thought of anything else, it might be interrupted by a few tears. The emotion of learning that she would finally leave Gotham was a bit too much at the moment. If she kept talking, there was no stopping them.
No more Gotham. No more Arkham. No more doctors trying to feed her medicine in an effort to "cure her." No more chaos.
No more running.
The bat nodded once in response to her words and turned to leave. "I'll have some food and water brought to you. It won't be much, but you have to build up slowly to larger portions. Chew your food thoroughly and don't eat so fast. It might upset your stomach."
"Yes sir," she smiled, still absolutely elated with her good news. Food coming soon, chew carefully, don't eat too much. Pretty simple. She turned and offered him another smile. "Any more instructions, Dr. B?"
A scoff escaped his lips and Harley wished she could see better in the dark. She wanted to see the visible half of his face more clearly.
After he was gone and the door was closed behind him, the sound of a key locking it let her know she was being kept in, but no matter. She was still thinking about the bat's promise to get her out of Gotham. Of how, without expecting anything in return except for information, the bat was helping her out. She also thought about how relaxed he was when he was around her now, almost enough to get him to break away from his serious moods. She wanted so desperately to see him pull away from his seriousness. Maybe she'd get to do it before she left Gotham. He had almost laughed just now, right?
Laying her head back on the pillow with the intention of sleeping, Harley smiled to herself and wondered if she would ever see the bat do the same.
As you can tell, there's starting to be a slight shift in Harley's character. Please keep in mind that she's been holed up in Arkham for MONTHS, away from crime, and although that doesn't count as completely "curing" someone criminal, it starts to plant a seed of something new within her. The events directly after that is what will help her grow into someone new, which is kind of what I'm going for. (It's also my excuse for having her so OOC lol)
Send me a PM or leave a review to tell me how you feel about that.
Thanks so much for reading!
