Good God I'm so sorry for how long it's been! School is not kind, especially a Master's program, to fanfic writers -_- What's worse is I have a summer course this summer so I won't make promises the next chapter will be uploaded anytime during that intense time, BUT know I am ALWAYS writing and working and thinking of this story and have no plans to abandon it! I'm just taking a lil' longer to finish it than I'd planned is all :/

Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the songs that inspired the titles, and there is some language in this chapter-I "F"-bomb that I can distinctly remember...also, potentially gruesome imagery towards the end..? I'm not sure, I might be over-hyping that one, but just in case...

It's been so long since I posted, and this chapter is short, and leaves a lot of things open which will only kill me more the fact that the next chapter may be out in a week or in three months, BUT I still hope those of you who follow this story or are finding it for the first time enjoy this chapter~!

And if I recover, will you be my comfort?
Or it can be over, or we can just leave it here

Zoe is doodling to the side of the space allotted for showing her work on the equation. It's difficult to concentrate she finds. She glances over her shoulder.

The armed guard is still standing there-not that she expected him to just disappear.

She returns to her homework. She doesn't buy for a second that these men are here to 'protect her' from her 'loose and dangerous' dad. Whatever they said (or paid) her mother to let her be accompanied by these men, she doesn't frankly want to know. Her mother is constantly asleep, opiated to the point where Zoe hasn't heard a coherent sentence from her mother's mouth in at least a week. Her new boyfriend is just the same-coked up and half awake.

And that's the state they're in next door, in the apartment's one bedroom. Zoe sits currently in hers-the living room couch that unfolds into a cot. It's the bare minimum for child support and if these men here were really here for her 'protection' they might take a few precautions to better her conditions. But they don't care about Zoe. They care about her dad.

She hopes they don't catch him.

There's a flash of light that catches Zoe's eye and she glances at it. It's a brief reflection-and then it's gone.

She turns to look back at the guard. He didn't notice it. She pretends to return to her homework, but keeps an eye out for the light.

And then it's there again.

She knows what's happening.

Zoe takes a deep, slow breadth. Slowly, she extends her hand across the coffee table, swiping at her pencil until it rolls off the table.

It's a quiet clank, but Zoe jumps, pretending to be startled as if the pencil fell without her aid, and the guard sees but thinks nothing of it. Zoe bends to pick it up, closing her eyes and exhaling.

The window doesn't shatter, but there's an audible crack as a bullet whizzes through it and the guard drops.

Enchantress can barely keep one eye open. She's being drained on two fronts.

One, the chemicals pumping into her, subduing her, which seem to burn through her veins. The dosages keep going up and she feels relief—actual goddamn relief—that she was able to, in time, trap June in her warped dream.

That's the second front. While Enchantress concentrates on staying alive, on fighting these drugs, she's also maintaining a peaceful memory and reality—a cage—to keep June's mind in. If June goes mad, the shock could kill them both. This amount of chemicals, or torture, can't be withstood by a human; especially one as frail as June already is.

A doctor (He's no doctor. June is a "doctor", Enchantress has come to learn. This man is just a monster; an ant meant to be squashed by her foot) enters the room and looks warily at Enchantress. Despite her restraints and the assurances by Waller herself that nothing short of a nuclear bomb could free Enchantress from her bindings, the doctor had his doubts. It all seemed too flimsy—the straps, the tubes, the chemicals. He'd seen Enchantress before—a marvel of magic. Could science really capture magic?

As a man of science, he had to believe in such.

"You're getting a new chemical compound today…" He hesitated, wondering why he alerted her at all. The monster was unresponsive and primitive, in appearance at least—she likely didn't know what was happening, or about the periodic table of elements or anything. He supposed he was merely making sounds to calm himself. He'd much rather hear his own voice than any spell from the witch's mouth.

Enchantress didn't lift an eyelash to the coated man or his announcement—this further cemented to him that she didn't understand but, in reality, she did. She just didn't care. There was something far more pressing than this creature's new recipe of fire for her veins.

And that was keeping June alive.

Zoe keeps her head down and her eyes closed, refusing to look up (at the body) until she hears the thunderous footsteps and the door slam open. It took just under a minute, but someone is there, at her side, calming her down despite her not crying.

"C'mon, lil' Zo….yer papa is outside; he's on his way. He'll meet us, c'mon-"

The man has a strange accent and Zoe opens her eyes. Sure enough he's a match, features and voice, because Zoe swears she's seen cleaner hobos than this man and his scraggly beard. She wonders if he can be trusted.

A woman shoves him aside, scowling at the funny-sounding man with the (Australian? Zoe thinks of the movies) accent. This lady has too much make-up on; it's smearing down her face. She's pale and blonde and her smile is wicked and uninviting.

"Yer scaring her! C'mon, Zoe, we're friends of your dad's! He's on his way from across the street but we're going to head down and meet him in the lobby, yeah?!"

Zoe believes these people really are friends of her dad's. They aren't working for the government, and anyone against the law is with her dad.

Zoe nods, and the lady (Zoe doubts her mom would call this woman a 'lady', but she's currently passed out in the bedroom; she didn't even wake up to the thudding of the guard) leads Zoe outside.

Immediately outside the door, as quick as he can as it comes as an afterthought, the Australian man throws a hand to Zoe's eyes. She would've jumped at this sudden movement but this, coupled with his hiss of a curse word, and coupled with the fact he was a moment too slow—Zoe saw the bodies—and she realizes what's happening. The guards outside the door are prone on the floor, just like the one her father took care of.

The man ushers Zoe quickly past them, a string of curses flowing from under his breath as he tries to maneuver her past the bodies. The woman cocks her head, standing in front of them, before it dawns on her that, yeah, a child might not be adjusted to seeing dead bodies.

Maybe she expects Zoe to just be a smaller version of her father. None of them speak as they take the stairwell down to the first floor.

Any doubts Zoe had of these people being with her dad vanish when she sees him, first hand, in the lobby, running from outside. Zoe knows it takes a while to take down a sniper set-up.

"Zoe!"

Her dad crosses the lobby and suddenly she's hugging him. And she forgets about the bodies upstairs, or her mom in the bedroom, or the Australian man and the clown-lady beside her. She doesn't even notice the man with scaly skin growling down the lobby secretary, keeping him quiet and from calling in or reporting. She doesn't notice the lady in the mask or the man in a uniform, or even the man with all the tattoos.

Not until her father lets her go does Zoe become aware of the rest of the world, and it's the strangest sight she's ever seen. She even laughs a little.

"Daddy, are these your friends?"

"-Co-workers."

"-Best friends!"

Floyd and Harley answer at the same time.

"Let's go. Waller will be alerted any minute to the…" The uniformed man looks at Zoe, "change in guard status…"

"Did you have to kill them, Dad?"

Deadshot looks the most nervous Flag has ever seen him as he tries to gently explain, tip-toeing around, that it was, indeed, necessary.

"But these were not good men, Zoe! They kidnapped you and were holding you hostage." Her dad gives a look to the uniformed man. Zoe recognizes him—he's been around her and her dad before.

"They've kidnapped another woman, too. And we have to save her. Like we saved you."

"You're leaving me?"

Lawton's throat knots up.

"No, no! No, sweetie. I'm not leaving you. Ever again…But, I have to save this woman, because…see, she helped save me, and in turn that's how I saved you. So…so, I'm not leaving you, but I'm…stepping out, again….for just a short time."

"We're gonna take you somewhere safe though, first," the clown-lady jumps in, smiling assuredly. Floyd and Zoe both don't feel assured. Something ingenuine about the lady's promise sticks out to Zoe.

"How far from here is it, Harley?" The uniformed man asks. Zoe suddenly feels like she's taking a step back, watching these adults talk and plan all above her head. Her father never takes his hands off her shoulder, though, so she's fine to go along with whatever happens. As long as it means her and her daddy can be together from now on.

Harley leads them through the back exit of the apartment, into the alley, and takes a quick look at the street to get an idea of which cross section they're at.

"Alright. We're not too far out. Your ex has good tastes in property, being on this side of town," Harley winks at Lawton. He knows it's an insult and says nothing, pushing Zoe closer against him. His magnums rest on his gauntlets, under another stolen sweater, but Zoe doesn't stare. She tries not to look at the scary scaly man, or the clown-lady. She instead watches the funny man with the accent, or the soldier who she's seen before, or even the lady who wears a mask.

They're the strangest, most inconspicuous group, walking alleys and sidewalks to their destination. They don't speak much and avoid street cameras and cars. Zoe wishes they would talk more; she's nervous and silence doesn't help. That's why she likes the Australian man—he never stops talking.

"So what's this place? A bunker of yours? A haunted house..? Strip club?"

Katanna glares at him at the same time as Lawton.

"Right, not in front of the Cheerio, gotcha."

Zoe giggles.

Katanna keeps eyeing the pad in her hand; waiting nervously for the green to change to red any moment.

Digger is endlessly muttering to himself, to Harley, to whoever will listen. He's doing a considerable job of toning back his cursing, but obviously something slips out now and then. Lawton, uncomfortably, risks leaving Zoe by Katanna (the only person he trusts with his daughter out of the given options) to approach Harley.

"Where are we headed?"

She doesn't respond immediately.

"Harley."

"I have a safe house nearby…Hardly a city or block I don't have someplace stashed away, ya know? For when me and the Mister need space, or I have to cool off from a gig…That sorta thing…"

Lawton angrily looks back at Zoe, checking himself to make sure she doesn't note his rising anger.

"You're taking my little girl to one of the Joker's hall of mirrors?!"

"Relax. He won't be around. I…I don't know exactly where he is."

"Okay, you wanna stop dodging what happened between you two? You said ya'll were 'taking a break' or some…thing," Deadshot mutters, "when you busted us out. So, be real. What's going on?"

Harley shrugs, inhaling sharply, but throws a smile on and turns to face the rest of the group.

"We're here! You're gonna love it, lil Zo! There's a carousel and cotton candy machine~! This is, I think, the best bunker me and…that I own!" She exclaims, clapping her hands before checking the clear.

They cross to a garage door, a back entrance, to what upfront looks like a storage unit. Graffiti dresses the door with gang tags, and there's a chain with a lock that Lawton doubts Harley has the key on her person for. But, she surprises him by instead approaching the side brick wall. There's a single brick with a spade etched into it in white that she pushes at. And just like that, the wall snaps back and with a hefty shove, the doorway is revealed.

Harley smiles proudly, stepping into the dark while exclaiming behind her, to the following band, "Welcome home!"

The lights flicker on, and standing ten paces before them is the King of Crime himself.

"Took the words right out of my mouth, baby."

June watches Rick nod his head, slowly down only to snap back up. His eyes have been closed for the past five minutes. He's fighting the exhaustion but the struggle ends when he finally allows his chin to touch his chest. A breadth later and he's snoring lightly.

Remote still in hand, Rick is illuminated by the blue light from the television. June could watch Rick falling asleep for hours, but decides it's best to arrange him so he's more comfortable. She slinks over to his side, starting with the remote. Gently pulling it from his loose grip, she sets it as carefully and quietly as she can down on the coffee table.

For a moment, it looks ancient and takes on the shape, the form, of a figure—like a large chess piece or statue. But it's her tired eyes playing tricks on her.

Then, she reaches around Rick's shoulders, supporting his head as she pulls him forward. She's cradling his head and turning him, shifting him, but in that moment where he's leaning in, facing her, she sees his desperate eyes open and a strange root in his hand, glowing green, before he crushes it.

Her heart.

Then he's asleep again, lulling forward into her arms and she is frozen. Wide-eyed and panicked, she remembers it all. Him crushing her heart—the mutual feeling of them killing one another. Then the brief memory of feeling the weight of the witch lifted only to have the witch burned back into her body by the cultists. June remembers the feeling of the drugs numbing her body, and she can hear Rick yelling at her, at Waller. She remembers the feeling, the actual feeling, of reality and she knows this isn't it.

This is a dream.

Rick isn't asleep in her arms.

He's somewhere, risking his life because of her.

Or worse—Waller has him caged just like June.

This brings June's mind to the present—the forefront. She's not really here, in this apartment, in front of this television.

She's in a cell, tranquilized and paralyzed. She's alive, but only barely, and it's because of Enchantress.

"Enchantress!" She yells. She doesn't care if this fake Rick wakes from her sudden jolting. He doesn't.

Instead, the scene shifts and she's in the darkness of her mind.

Without the construct of the apartment, she's exposed to pain. She drops to her knees in this space-less environment and clutches at her arms, her stomach, her body—it's all pulsating in waves of agony.

And before her, standing but looking no stronger, is Enchantress.

"I told you to not leave! Stay in the dream, or you will die!"

"No," June spits out. Her teeth are clenched sharply together, biting back the pain, but she can't hide any longer.

"The shock alone will kill you. It will kill us both!"

"No, I-it won't…"

June shakes her head, trembling, and reaches out her hand to crawl to Enchantress. The witch genuinely looks scared and steps back.

"Go back!"

"F-fight…"

"What?!" Enchantress hisses.

"W-we fight…We get the fuck out of here…"

Enchantress watches the girl crawl, convulsing, towards her. Her expression begins to fade of any emotion.

"You think you can escape from this, little girl?"

"Not me…and n-not you…but together."

Enchantress scoffs briefly.

"You have no power-"

"-I am more than a vessel. Y-you chose me. For a reason, right?"

Enchantress doesn't answer.

"I'm s-strong enough to house an i-immortal, powerful w-witch…wh-who can transport a-and summon and create…Y-you are a wrathful god…but, without me? You are n-nothing…"

Enchantress raises her chin, weighing June's words.

"S-so…we do this together, or we d-die…I'm n-not going to stay in a dream forever…Help me…l-let me help…"

Enchantress' upper lip goes stiff.

"Enchantress…I can help you….us…escape. Let me."

It's terrifying being in front of the Joker, Flag thinks (but he doesn't let his horror show). He's a glorified gangster with an eccentric style that Flag thinks he ought to be used to by now around Harley. But there's an air of madness around him that even Harley can't compete with. Harley still has heart and a conscience; she just chooses to ignore it.

The Joker is a skeleton in a purple suit who snarls as he smiles.

"I've missed you…terribly," The Joker snaps at Harley.

Lawton notices how she stiffens, but still she smiles.

"Puddin'!"

She runs at him. With open arms, she swings herself at him. The Joker doesn't react to her embrace, but that in itself seems to be his acceptance of it. The others slowly arrange themselves nearer to one another. Lawton hides Zoe completely behind him. Katanna has her hand on her sword hilt.

"You brought guests for dinner?"

"These are my friends. I've told you 'bout them," Harley coos. The Joker's eyes never leave the group. He's weighing them all.

When he sees Flag, what semblance of a smile he has disappears.

"He was one of them that put you away…"

"N-no, these are all my friends, Puddin'! They helped me out—all of them!"

The Joker raises a brow to the others.

"Don't tell me you've developed Stockholm Syndrome for these…" He doesn't finish. "You're the Beauty, they…the Beasts. You've been away from me for so long—you left without a word."

"I-I left a note," Harley shrugs, her eyes bright and wide and searching the Joker's face for anything. He still looks beyond her.

"They captured you…tortured you…Played with your mind."

"You wanna talk tricks?" Lawton calls out.

The Joker instantly reacts to this, stepping aside from Harley. She stumbles as he moves away, her eyes darting to the floor now as Joker steps towards the group. They merely tense up further in defense.

"Oh, tricks I know…I know all kinds of tricks! Party tricks…you name 'em! Like I know you…each and every one of you…The famed, deadly~ Deadshot!"

Lawton pushes Zoe back slightly from him. He keeps his eyes on Joker, but behind his back he makes a motion with his hand. Zoe can't understand it, but almost instantly she feels the brush of someone behind her.

"Can take out any man, with any weapon!"

His eyes shift to Croc.

"Killer Croc! K.C, The Big Guy! You're a hulking helluva guy…are you though? A man, I mean? How much of you isn't a beast..?"

Croc snarls.

Zoe feels a hand slip around her arm, slowly. It's small—feminine. It's the woman with the mask, she realizes. She refuses to look behind her. She holds her breadth.

The Joker continues to step closer to the group.

"Captain Boomerang! Interesting choice of a toy…not that I'm one to talk! We all have our gimmicks, don't we?"

"Show me yours, I'll show you my 'gimmick', mate." Digger answers. There's no light in his voice as he speaks.

"And you…El Diablo! The demon himself…I thought you were dead?"

Diablo says nothing.

Joker shrugs, dramatically smiling. "I guess you can't kill the devil. At least, they say…"

Joker's eye catches sight of Zoe and he stops dead in his tracks.

"You're a little short. Don't feel offended though, I say the same thing to Cobblepot—really riles him up. What makes you tick?"

As the Joker steps towards Zoe, Lawton steps between him. At the exact same time, Flag calls out, "Leave her alone."

Joker's eyes don't leave Lawton. They're sizing each other up before the Joker turns his head to Flag.

"You, I also don't know…No, no….no, no, no, no-I do! I recognize that chiseled face, those dead eyes. The eyes of a man whose seen a battlefield—you're a soldier. No, no-the soldier! Captain, wasn't it?"

"Puddin'!" Harley suddenly tries again. Her face is twisted in a desperate plea but also a smile, like she's coaxing a cat that she knows will scratch her to still come back.

Joker ignores her.

"You work with her…with them. You captured my girl, my Queen….not once, but twice…"

"Mr. J!" Harley calls. The Joker's back is to Lawton and the others. Floyd glances back at Katanna, nodding to her. Silently, she steps back, pulling Zoe with her. Digger notes this, moving as well with the two, blocking Zoe from Joker's direct sight. Flag stands his ground as the Joker gets as close to him as personally uncomfortable.

"I spent a lot of lonely nights because of you…"

"I'm here now, though, Puddin'! Mr. J?"

There's a long pause before the Joker throws his hands in the air, turning to face Harley.

"That's right! You're here! You've returned to me—crawling back with your tail between your legs, you're back!"

Harley smiles nervously, but her shoulders relax. The Joker takes long, slow strides to reach her again.

"You're home! That's all that matters…"

"You're not mad?" Harley dares to ask, pouting.

"I'm always mad. Madness is my constant state of mind—our constant state of mind. We're all mad, my dear. Mad? Yes, I'm mad. At you? What…do I have to be mad at you for?"

Harley sighs in relief as the Joker slides his arm around her waist.

"You're innocent, my dear."

Lawton and Flag react first as the Joker pushes Harley back, pulling forth a pistol from his coat jacket.

"-They're not."

And in a split second, the entire unit lights up.

Goons of all disguises appear from the shadows, shooting at the group. Katanna unsheathes her katana, blocking several bullets as if the thin blade was a wide shield, deflecting them as she pushed Zoe behind her. Digger, too, throws a boomerang before feeling for the doorway. It takes him a split second to push the right spot in the wall, and he turns back in time to catch his weapon and yell at Katanna, "This way! Bring 'er here!"

"Daddy?!" Zoe yells, but Deadshot has both magnums raised, sleeves torn back, and is yelling at Katanna to get his daughter out of here. The last moment Zoe sees of her father is of him diving behind the coverage of an abandoned carousel horse, yelling for her to run, and the feeling of two hands (both firm, yet wildly different) tugging her away from the shelter.

Croc takes a few bullets, charging a man dressed like a past president (Croc loves history, but never memorized the 40-something Presidents. Not like Waller was filling the holes in his education while incarcerated anyway). Chato is a burning skull and hands, creating a wave of a flame wall that melts and warps the bullets before they reach him.

Flag is crouched beside Lawton, trying to aim straight and avoid watching Croc tear at a man's throat.

The Joker is dancing as if he's in a 50's musical, humming to the tempo of maniacal bullets. Harley gathers herself to her feet, horrified.

"Puddin'?!"

Joker ignores her, adding in hand movements as if conducting a concert—he hits the crescendo and a window on the second-floor landing opens to reveal a panda-suited man with a machine gun.

"Puddin'!"

Deadshot snatches a pistol from Flag's holster, aiming at the Gatling—he hits a bullet dead into jamming the ammo and after only three rounds the gun clicks and sparks. The panda motions frustration before leaping down from his perch to grab another endless gun to mow them down with.

"I thought he wasn't gonna be here, huh?" Lawton shouts. Harley ignores him. She's crawling her way under the gunfire towards the Joker.

"Puddin'? H-hey, these are my friends—stop it!"

The Joker finally ends his performance to look wildly at Harley; his eyes betray no emotion other than chaos.

"My dear…My Queen…My Bombshell Bubblegum Blonde …"

He reaches a hand up to cup her face. For a moment, Harley smiles.

"You're either mine, or you're theirs. And I don't like to share."

Amongst all the gunfire, the point blank one into Harley's side is the most resounding.

Lawton screams Harley's name the loudest, while Flag makes a run for her, dodging the hail of bullets.

The Doctor watches the witch twitch unnervingly. Her eyes have rolled in and she seems to be in a dream or a trance. He feels unnerves and watches the IV drip slowly sink. He wonders if, as a precaution, he can add just one more mg…

He feels the sweat on the back of his neck and shakes his head silently to himself—if Enchantress dies, Waller will do much worse than simply kill him.

And then, the witch goes still—still and silent.

The doctor panics, wondering if the witch is truly dying, dead, or faking it. He hesitates, all the while running through his mind the horrors awaiting him should Waller find out about his impudence.

He doesn't have much time to react to her silence, however, because suddenly the witch is back—except she's not. The rusted metal and dirt and grime is faded. The girl is the same, but her hair is oily with sweat, not dirt and charcoal. The green flakes of skin reveal human flesh, untattooed. The symbols fade and her eyes have no light in them.

The witch is gone—it's just the girl.

And her wails of pain and shock immediately alert the doctor that she is dying.

"Oh, Fuck-!"

He runs to her side, reacting without thinking. The girl is convulsing—he can't ween her off the drugs fast enough. He starts to pull at the IVs, releasing her from the chemicals. She's still strapped in, he reminds himself. He can't believe he's thinking this, but please turn back into the witch!

Her pupils are dilated and wide, with fear and pain, and her gasping, dry mouth is choking out a hoarse scream.

"I-I'm sorry-" He continues to chant, suddenly dawning on him that this 'witch' the whole time was a human underneath. This poor girl—damned to be tied to this witch.

It doesn't for a second cross his mind that she would ever, possibly in a million years, come to agree with sharing her body with the witch.

When the last IV is pulled, but the girl is still foaming and writhing, he thinks to try something else. What else? Electro-shock? A water drip? Give fluids back?

When he turns back around to eye his patient, the girl is gone.

Standing, unrestrained, is the witch.

Glowing eyes of pure hatred and all.

"That hurt."

Enchantress pulls the doctor in by the shoulders, her grip digging her nails into him through his coat. His lips lock with hers except this isn't a kiss—it's a breadth of fire. He feels himself decaying from the inside out.

He screams are muffled through the disintegration of his body, and when Enchantress lets him go, he falls into a pile of dust and rot to the floor.

Enchantress steps her bare feet over him, purposely stomping where his skull once was. A residue-like pollen puffs into the air—dust—and the foot crushes the ant for good.

"That was a gambit even I don't want to try again."

June smirks inwardly, sharing the eyes of Enchantress as they stumble, fumbling through the halls while clawing at the walls for balance. Exhaustion is coursing through them both, but it feels liberating to no longer have chemicals pumping through them.

Enchantress is simultaneously chanting spells of healing, but this is just draining her magic. Still, without it, their body wouldn't have the strength to stand.

"You didn't have to kill him. Not that way. It was cruel and-"

"Are you madder that I killed him, or kissed him? It's a blessing to touch a goddess with his mortal flesh, no matter the curse or blessing I give."

June recalls the torture she's been through, and wonders if she indeed would have minded if Enchantress killed him or not—she reminds herself they're all under Waller's orders, however."

"I won't tell the Soldier, if that's what you're worried about."

June frowns, feeling a flush rise in her cheeks. How strange she can feel blemished and embarrassed, like a school girl, amongst the life-or-death escape with a literal witch of death sharing her body.

"How do we get out of here?"

Enchantress is gasping; tired and worn out, she lacks the strength to properly answer June.

"We…"

She's cut off when the hallway's lights go out, followed shortly by the flashes of red for emergency. The base is suddenly aware of her escape. More than that, they've already found her.

The door at the end opens, and Waller herself stands there like a titan with four guards beside her.

"However you escaped, I'll be sure to bind you twice as hard."

"Bind this, bitch!"

June isn't sure which one spoke for them just now.

Enchantress lifts her right arm, curling her hand and suddenly the guards are thrown together. It's a horror show as their skin and flesh meld together and from beneath Enchantress/June's nails, blood begins to pool out. Her veins seem to reach the surface of her arm, breaking through the surface as the magical strain begins to literally tear her apart. The guards' horrified screams end quickly as their lives do, folding into a mass of bones and organs. Waller only shows her horror for a moment before lifting her trump card—a device in her left hand that's clearly meant to threaten Enchantress—Flag, more specifically.

Enchantress grips her right arm in her left, holding it like a sling. Her skin is a pure shade of bronze and green and she's practically dissolving. The black magic particles surrounding her are so faded, and the glow in her eyes is blindingly bright. June can feel the pain in her arm and wonders if she'll ever heal—hell, if they'll survive.

And they both are eyeing Waller's hand and for a moment Waller thinks she's won.

But, then a new feeling occurs.

There's a new sensation and it's not pain so much as adrenaline.

June feels her heart jolt as if electrocuted, and Enchantress breathes sharply, feeling the same.

This adrenaline, this strain on their hearts…

Hearts.

Rick.

And suddenly Waller can go to hell and nothing else matters.

Enchantress and June simultaneously scream. They scream because the pain in their right arm. They scream as the red lights flicker and the fluorescent ones swing violently, sparking. The room flickers in darkness and Waller suddenly looks terrified—more so than she ever has been in her life.

June screams because these past few weeks have been the most torturous of her life. She's been pulled across dimensions, locked in her own mind, tethered between life and death, had the love of her life ripped apart from her twice—

Enchantress screams, pulling forth all the magic she can muster. She feels it swell in her chest and in a rush of pure adrenaline, the witch charges Waller. Her bare feet leave soot footprints in their wake and at her top speed she screams as she charges the older woman (relative to June; few creatures on this planet are older than Enchantress herself).

Then, in a split second before the reaches Waller, she's gone.

Harley falls backwards, practically in slow motion, onto a pile of money (money where the Joker just stood a top of moments ago). Tears well in her eyes but she's still smiling.

He missed her vital organs.

It's a flesh wound. A little love bite. A reminder that she can't run away from him; she's tethered to him.

These thoughts rotate in her mind as the Joker leaps down, dodging Lawton's hail of bullets. Flag is at her side momentarily, propping her head up and pressing his hand against her wound.

"You're okay, Quinn. You're gonna be fine."

"Mr. J shot me…" She muses.

Some disillusionment shatters and her eyes slowly follow after her green-haired prince, scurrying away in retreat.

Flag's guard is down and it's only the roar from K.C that alerts him to the impending shot aimed at him. In his final seconds, he thinks to shield Harley. Lawton is running, too late, to cover him. Chato is enraged and blinded by his flames, unaware of anything but his own attackers.

And then, there's a single flicker of the lights.

And she's standing there in front of Flag.

Her eyes are blazing white—far brighter and emptier than the orange spark that usually occupies her pupils. She raises her left arm and with a single swipe, all guns are yanked forth from anyone considered an enemy.

In a split second she's gone again, and like a shadow she reappears behind the henchman with his gun previously aimed at Flag. With a single sword in hand, she swings and his head rolls. Another flash and she's behind a second henchman, and then a third and a fourth.

It's blinks of men dropping and the sound of a sword cutting bone.

In moments, the room is cleared. When she's back in front of Flag, he finally gets a decent look at her.

Her right arm looks like it's been through a grinder, shredded and bleeding. He skin is decrepit and rotting. She's filthy and hardly standing. The single sword in her left-hand drops, as does she to her knees.

Flag approaches her but stops when her arm reaches out. He thinks she's warding him off, but a gasp from beside him alerts him that she is, in fact, healing Harley.

Harley's wound closes, the bullet popping cleanly from the wound leaving only a hole and blood stained ring on her shirt as evidence of the wound.

Enchantress is breathing in drawn-out, hyperventilating breadths. Her eyes can barely stay open, but she isn't done. She raises her left hand, shakily, and clutches it into a fist.

Suddenly, Lawton feels a tiny pinch in the back for his neck. Croc snarls at the flinch, and even Chato jolts from it, coming off of his flames-high. Harley gasps loudly, quickly feeling between her side and neck.

"I-it's…?"

"-Gone." Lawton finishes for her. "The nanomite bombs…they're gone."

This is Enchantress's limit, and now she collapses. Except, Rick catches her, holding her tenderly as the witch struggles to keep conscious.

"Where's June?!"

Enchantress manages to smirk at the irony.

"I do all this for you…and not even a thank you. Humans never change…ungrateful…"

She's slipping but Flag has to know. "June?! Is she safe? Is she okay?!"

Enchantress is slipping unconscious, but before she does, she pulls weakly at Flag's neck, holding his face close to hers. In a breathless whisper, she smirks, "She lives."

Flag feels his heart sink, but in pure relief. For the first time in weeks, he's relieved. Even as Enchantress slips unconscious, he falls backwards, sitting on his knees and coddling the witch. Tears brim his eyes because June is safe. She's alive, and somewhere beneath this broken witch's claim to her body, June is inside her. And she's alive.

I'll give you one, one chance
Say you can change our heart
Where can you take what you need
And you don't need me

A/N: Again, I'm SO SORRY this took forever to type out -_- Just keep leaving reviews or PM'ing me demanding I write cause this story is so close to being finished and~! Anyway...

So They're free! Kinda... Writing the Joker is hard, and I am not a fan of him (Sorry to those who love him and Harley-this story will treed into the anti-waters for that ship...) hence why he speaks little and runs away quickly-I can't write him well (Especially Leto's version-he's unhinged enough that he's unpredictable and that's hard to write?) He definitely didn't mean to kill Harley, but him shooting her is that abusive reminder of punishment when you try to leave, and if (?) he gets another chance to see her, he'll play it off that he 'hated to hurt her' and somehow 'she brought it upon herself'-I mean for him to be using the tactics of an abuser, and it's important my readers recognize these signs...At least, I'm trying my best to show these signs...Anyway...

Enchantress and June have struck up some kind of deal that was originally gonna be covered in this chapter but I found this end-point to work, so next chapter will cover more of Enchantress and June's new relationship, though there were shades of it in this chapter in how they're now working together... I don't want Enchantress to appear too tame though-she's still a villain. Just not the villain of this story (Was she ever the real villain of the movie though, even..?)

A lot is left open in this chapter but will be answered in the next (Like what was the device Waller had; was it a bluff that she thought could trick Enchantress? Does Digger still have his neck bomb?!) And finally June and Rick re-re-reunite~!

Anyway, I'll keep the A/N short this time cause if I'm gonna type a lot, it's gonna be the next chapter~! See you all...well, I don't wanna jinx myself, so let's just say 'in the next chapter' and end there. Forgive me for taking so long! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, sorry if it wasn't worth the long wait!