Batman: Armistice
Chapter Seven
The air in the the forest was light and refreshing that evening, in stark contrast to the darkness that quickly enveloped the trees, which rose like the pillars of some mighty cathedral to Gaia. And beneath those hallowed boughs, a lithe a figure passed quietly from shadow to shadow, seemingly as much at home in the woods as any wild creature. That figure was former botanist Dr. Pamela Isley, known to most people now as Poison Ivy. Though admittedly few would have recognized the infamous temptress and terrorist, garbed as she was in a dirty, plain dress and her crimson hair a tangled mass of twigs and bits of leaves. But in spite of her scruffy appearance, she had never felt more at peace than she did within those woods.
Ivy paused for a moment in her hunt and raised her face to the covered sky, inhaling deeply the cool evening air and its panoply of delicate scents and fleeting sounds. The smell of the needles, sap and moss were a feast for her nostrils while hear ears were pleasantly assaulted with the sounds of the leaves that crunched beneath her feet or rustled on the cold November winds. Surely, this was heaven. This forest and her little cottage nestled within it, far away from the noxious fumes, cold concrete and ceaseless clamor of the city. Her only regret was how little contact she had had with her best friend since she had settled here nearly two years ago.
'Of course' she thought ruffly, 'That's hardly just my fault.' And that was true; Harley had become ever more reclusive over the past two years, focusing on her obsession with the Joker to the exclusion of all else. And on her end, every effort to convince the girl that he was wrong for her (or frankly anyone for that matter) had fallen on def ears. Ivy had wished on many occasions that the Joker would just fuck Harley's brains out already, even if the idea of her friend giving it up after so long to the Clown made her gag. But at least that way the glamour might finally wear off, and she would see him for the train-wreck that he was. But of course, recent word had informed her that Harley and the Joker were no longer an item... But the means by which this had came to be made her blood run alternately cold and flaming hot and the mere thought of it.
As she recalled the news she had received only that morning from an anonymous tip, a new sound drifted to her on the breeze; one which made her lip curl in disgust: Laughter. Not that she had any problem with laughter itself, but laughter meant people. People in her woods, in her home. The Bellepain State Forest was a popular tourist attraction, but at well over twenty-one-thousand acres it was also enormous. More than large enough to conceal one woman and a small cottage. But even so, there had been numerous close calls with campers who wandered to far into the dark recesses of the forest, and each one angered her. The temptation to ward off the interlopers with violence was strong, but she knew this would only draw unwanted attention, and she was far too clever for that.
So instead, she had adopted a policy of terrorizing the tourists when they drew too close, and it had thus far worked like a charm. Stories had grown legion of a witch living in the woods, or perhaps the ghost of a witch like in that crappy 'found-footage' movie from the late nineties. In fact, she had even recreated a scene from said film for one pair of amorous young campers by lashing together a few stick figures around their campsite and leaving a rag full of gruesome squirrel remains outside the door of their tent. She snorted with laughter as she remembered how they had screamed, cried, prayed and then screamed some more. The woman had actually pissed herself with fright! The whole scene had been so pathetic, that Ivy had almost lost all desire to hurt them. Almost.
Weighing her options, she decided that simple avoidance was the wiser course on this occasion and slunk silently back into the dark. After all, she had already risked enough delivering her gifts to Harley in the hospital today; she was sure that a man in the waiting room and at least one doctor had recognized her despite her hood and glasses. The last anyone had heard of her, she had been on a one-way flight to Brazil, and she'd prefer that the self-righteous jerk-offs in Gotham not know that she was living so near by. This was doubly true of the Asshole-in-Chief, Batman. He would surely waste no time in dragging her back to her cell, and that was one place she flat out refused to go again. They always kept a room open for her in Arkham: a cold, sterile lifeless void that humans apparently considered 'livable'. With a shudder, she recalled her time in that hell... The suffocating feeling of being closed in with nothing but stone and steel around her and not even a single ray of sunshine to drink in. How many days had she spent screaming and clawing at the walls like any other lunatic? How many times had she begged and pleaded for even a single flower to tend, only to be refused at every turn? And finally, how many nights had she spent beneath her bunk rather than on it, curled into a ball, rocking back and forth and wishing that death would descend and end her suffering? She'd never allow herself to be taken back there. She'd rather die. But even so, she was willing to risk it if it meant Harls knowing that she wasn't alone.
Ivy decided to do one more sweep to the west before turning in for the night. After all, the hunt today had been long and arduous, and the trip to the city had cost her precious time. With the first real blasts of winter coming down from the icy north, the mushrooms that she prized so highly for her experiments her growing scarcer every day. And today had been particularly grim as she had barely managed to gather more than a quarter of a bushel. She had begun growing them in an aquaponic system in her basement, but it was still a long way from producing the volume she needed. Not to mention the fact that the majority of her basement that wasn't devoted to storage or equipment was taken up by the aquaponics systems that fed her, thus enabling her to live almost without any need for the outside world. Though once she succeeded in transcending the pitiful, ape-like form she had been born into she would no longer require anything beyond the radiant sun for nourishment. But some days, such glorious rebirth seemed like a hazy dream... And today was definitely one of those days.
As the last rays of daylight faded beneath the horizon and an eerie twilight gripped the now silent wood, she came across a promising growth at the stump of a long-dead tree and grinned triumphantly. It wasn't the largest that she had found that day, but it was certainly in the upper brackets and would make the perfect note to end the day's labors on. She knelt down to collect the fungi, then froze like a blossom in a winter squall as an all-to-familiar voice spoke from the shadows behind her.
"Miss Pamela Isley." It said. That voice... So cold, harsh and ruthless. Malice masked by machine, it represented everything she hated about humanity and the world she had left behind.
"Batman... And what brings you to my neck of the woods? Surely a man like you can't be that lonely." She said as she rose slowly to her feet, speaking with a seductive confidence that she didn't really feel. Aside from the utter dismay that she felt and having been tracked down in her own forest, her sexual overtones were purely for show as she would rather pleasure herself with a hunting knife than let that man inside her. As she neared her full height, she brushed her hair back in a flirtatious manner and carefully removed one of her earrings whilst doing so, concealing it in her palm. Though they appeared to be pearls, the small orbs actually contained enough nitroglycerin to blow even Batman to hell. Or barring that, to knock him flat on his miserable ass.
"I need your assistance Ms. Isley, with something of a personal nature." The thug answered from atop the small hillock to her rear, still lording over her like the monstrous brute he was. She smiled winningly as she turned to face him completely, her stance deceptively open and relaxed.
"Is that so? Something personal hmmm? Well I like the sound of that. And so polite and... Smooth. But I think you know that I'll always be Poison Ivy to you!" By the time she screamed the last word, the tiny capsule had already left her hand and was flying towards her foe. He reacted, but too late. The container struck the ground at his feet and exploded, blowing him backwards in a deadly spray of rock, dirt and twigs that flew like bolts through the air and impaled themselves in earth and trees alike.
Ivy was already running by the time he hit the ground, rushing through the trees like a deer fleeing from a lion. Her pulse pounded in her veins and the frigid wind howled in her ears as she fled through the darkness, dodging trees and leaping over obstacles as she made her way back to her cottage. If she could just get there, she would be safe, even from him. So close...
"Ivy, wait!" Another familiar voice called out to her in her flight. This one wasn't masked, but rather left arrogantly open. Once upon a time it had belonged to the Batman's sidekick, Robin. That was until the stupid boy's ego had grown too great for the role and he had adopted a new, solo moniker: Nightwing.
Without so much slowing in her stride, she ripped her other earring painfully off and threw it in the direction of the shout.
"Jesus Christ!" He swore after the blast, his voice fading into the distance behind her. 'I hope it scrambled both your eggs you little birdshit' she thought with a satisfied grin. And then she saw it through the trees: Home. 'Just a few more feet!' she thought as she frantically sprinted for the door. Just a few more feet to safety...
But when she was only a few yards from the door, a dark streak crashed to the earth between her and her sanctuary, sending a wave of dust and leaves into her face. She raised her arm to stop the worst of it and screeched to halt, then lowered it and stared in abject horror as her hopes were shattered.
Between her and her home stood Superman, his arms folded imperiously across his chest and his gaze leaving no doubts about her chances of taking shelter now.
'So this is it.' She thought bitterly. She had no illusions of refuge now. They had brought the big guns, and nothing she had would so much as scratch him. She drew a long, sickle-shaped blade from the folds of her dress. She wasn't going back to Arkham, but she wasn't going out without a fight either.
"Hey Ivy, it's-whoa!" Nightwing exclaimed as he attempted to approach her nonchalantly from behind, only to have her swipe at him with her knife. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Batman had also caught up to her. She was surrounded.
"Come on you bastards!" She hollered as she lashed out in every direction, frantically trying to stave off her attackers like a cornered animal. Then she noticed Superman striding calmly towards her. He knew that she couldn't harm him, and clearly meant to disarm her. In a desperate gambit, she brought the knife up to her own throat, the tip pressing so hard into her skin that she started to bleed. That stopped the Boy-scout in his tracks.
"You'll never take me alive!" She snarled in defiance.
"Relax." The Boy-scout told her, holding both hands up in a condescending expression of reassurance, as though she were a child or dog to be thus mollified.
"Fuck you!" She spat. "I'm never going back, you hear me?! I won't be left in the cold and dark to wither and rot... I'll die first!"
"We're just here to talk. It's about Harleen." Batman told her.
"It's Harley you egotistical prick." She snapped. "And if you think dropping her name will get me to lower my guard, you're sadly mistaken." He sighed with what sounded like genuine disappointment, glancing at his friends before locking his gaze on her once more.
"I see. You need a gesture. An... Olive branch." He stated in resignation.
"No, don't do it!" Nightwing cried, sounding genuinely alarmed.
"We need her help, and I can hardly keep it a secret if my plan is going to work. And she has spent the last two years proving that she's no longer a threat. Besides, I'd be very much surprised if she hasn't already guessed."
Ivy stared forward in dumbfounded surprise. 'Was this really happening?' she wondered. If he was really saying what she thought he was... What could he possibly need her for enough to risk such a gesture?
"And if she changes her mind and comes after you?" Nightwing continued in his vain attempt to talk his mentor down.
"Then it's my risk to take." Batman declared with a note of finality. And without another word, he locked his gaze with Ivy's, reached up and slowly removed his cowl. Her eyes widened in shock, but only for a moment. He was right, she had long ago guessed the identity of the vigilante known as 'Batman'. That said, it was one thing to guess it. Seeing the truth revealed so nakedly in front of her was another thing entirely. And to take such a risk for Harley's sake...
She lowered her weapon, but still kept it clenched tightly at her side.
"Alright," She said cautiously. "Talk."
The last rays of the golden sunset streamed through the eastern-facing window as Harley awoke in a fog, feeling like she was rising from the bottom of a deep pool. The medication they had given her left her groggy and disoriented, but at least she wasn't in any real pain. She did notice though that her feet itched horribly in their casts.
Her feet... Itched. She scarcely dared to believe it. After a moment of hesitation, she tried to wiggle her toes, and for the first time since that horrible night, they moved.
"My God..." she whispered awe. Then she lost all control and began to laugh and cry in equal portions, tears of joy pouring from her eyes. She had never imagined that something so simple could be so wondrous, but the mere fact that she could move her pale little toes filled her heart with so much joy and gratitude that she felt she would fly into a million rapturous pieces.
"God, if you're out there... Thank you. Thank you s-so f-fucking much!" She prayed tearfully, and upon realizing her gross sacrilege she laughed even harder, until her jubilant sounds echoed off the walls and surrounded her in a cacophony of merry thanksgiving.
Once she had relaxed a bit she was able to take note of the table to her right, and was dumbfounded to see it overflowing with flowers, cards and candies. Curious, she snatched the closest card from its place with a bunch of sunflowers and a large box of expensive candies and read it.
"Dear Ms. Quinzel,
I just wanted to congratulate you on your successful surgery and... Ah what the hell, way to go girl! I know it might seem a bit awkward, but I'd love a chance to speak with you once you get out of that place. And don't worry, Daddy's gotten over being mad about the 'dentist incident'. We're both really impressed by what you did, and hope that this will be the start of a new and happy chapter in your life.
Your (hopefully!) Friend, Barbra Gordon."
And there it was, Harley was thrown unceremoniously right back into full astonishment mode. Barbra Gordon sent her a card and flowers and candy and... Wanted to be her friend?! What the hell?! It seemed so unlikely and yet so... Touching. She smiled wistfully as she replaced card. She decided on the spot that, when she worked up the courage, she would go see Ms. Gordon. Or was it Barbra to her now? Maybe Barbie? She cackled at the thought. But still, it simply wouldn't feel right until she apologized to the girl, and that would take some working up to.
Her gaze settled on the next nearest group of gifts, and she grinned from ear to ear when she saw the flowers. Aztec Gilia. She knew who these were from, and a look at the bag of candies next to them confirmed it. It was filled to the brim with all her cheep favorites: Atomic Fireballs, Warheads, Lemonheads and Bit-o-Honey's. But the majority were her favorite, Laughy-Taffy. I mean, who could hate a candy that was both tasty and came with jokes on the wrappers? Sure they were always stupid, but as far as Harley was concerned that was part of the fun!
She grabbed the card and began to read:
"Hey Harls,
I heard the whole story... Sorry that it took so long for the news to reach me; I'm living seriously under the radar. I tried to visit you in person, but they've got a whole fucking SWAT team guarding your door. I think I even saw a sniper on the roof, but that might have been my imagination. Anyway, I hope you like the candy! I'll see if I can sneak you my DS and a few games later, they'll call the bomb squad if I try it now. And when they let you out, I want you to know that you can crash with me for as long as you need to. I'll always be here for you, no matter what. Be strong Harls, and I'll see you soon.
Hugs and kisses, Red.
P.S: Here's a number you can reach me at to keep me posted or whenever you need to chat. Do you still have a cellphone? If not, let me know and I'll smuggle one to you too. But for the love of God, don't use it in front of anyone! They'll think it's part of an escape plan... Which is kind of true, but whatever."
Harley laughed again and hugged the card, wishing the she could transfer even a smidgen of her love through the paper to her friend. She felt a sudden rush of guilt at having alienated her recently, and swore that she never would in the future. Friends like Red were one in a million, and she would never take that for granted again.
That left only two more cards, and she opted for the suspiciously bi-toned one that sat alone and apart from the others. As she cracked it open, a small piece of paper fluttered onto her chest. She decided that she'd figure out what it was in a moment and read:
"Dear Ms. Quinzel,
I simply wanted to wish you well on your way to what I'm sure will be a speedy and full recovery and thank you for your testimony today. I don't believe there was a single soul who wasn't touched by it, I know I was. I also wanted to inform you that I spoke with the judge regarding your future. He decided that, in light of your testimony, you would be sentenced to six months of psychiatric therapy; which period will likely coincide with your physical therapy. Upon completion of your therapy and assuming the therapist signs off on you, you will be released on probation where you will complete a further three months of community service providing therapy to other patients in the hospital who have suffered traumatic ordeals. This will also serve as a good first step to reinstating your license and allowing you to build a brighter future for yourself.
Best regards, Harvey Dent.
P.S: Since I cannot legally compensate witnesses for their testimony, consider the enclosed as a gift from one ex-lunatic rebuilding his life to another."
Harley set the card back onto the table with a smile and picked up the piece of fallen paper. It turned out to be a check... For twenty-thousand dollars. Her jaw dropped as she read the amount. She knew he had been doing well for himself, but holly ball-pits... When she finally came to, she shut the check safely into the card whispering "God-bless you Harvey Dent!" as she did do. With that done, there was just one group left: A large box of what looked like obscenely expensive chocolates, along with a bouquet of yellow roses and a finely embroidered card. She opened it and began to read...
"Dear Harleen (can I get away with calling you that yet?)
Congratulations on your victories today... both of them. Upon hearing your tale, I knew that there was far more to you than your breathtaking beauty. Few people could have gone through what you did and lived, let alone had the courage to face what you did today. It's pretty clear that you don't think much of yourself, even after today... But I do, and I know I'm not the only one. There's a fire in your heart Harleen, a bright and magnificent flame that will shine in radiant splendor long after your earthly beauty has faded away. Your friends see it, everyone in court heard it today, and I saw it flickering deep in your eyes when we spoke. And no matter how much you doubt or even hate yourself, I have no doubt in my mind that this spark, when put to a righteous course, will burn away every obstacle between you and your dreams. Between becoming the woman you want to be, the woman I know you can be. So smile, laugh, and revel in the joy that awaits you; and know that you'll have a friend in me if you need it. From this day forward, I harbor no ill will and wish you only the best.
Bruce Wayne.
P.S: Told you you were a fighter. *Wink*
Harley smiled again, tears of gratitude springing once more to her eyes. Gratitude for forgiveness so readily offered, for love freely given and for a chance to really make it count. And as she swept all the cards from the table and held them close to her pounding heart, she promised that she would do just that. As bad as she had been, she would be even better. All the wrong she had done, she would atone for. And all the love she had received, she would return a thousand fold...
