A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to update! I was really nervous about how this chapter would go. I kept writing and rewriting until I settled on something I liked. I hope you guys enjoy and I'll update the next chapters quicker than this one!
"Okay," Floyd clapped his hands together, pacing across Frost's large living room. He had gotten back from meeting with the Joker, confirming Floyd and Zoe had been killed. Frost said the Joker didn't really have time to be skeptical, since he was preoccupied with what he should do with Harley. Floyd's lips tightened at that, shaking his head and taking a deep breath. Yeah, he needed a plan.
Frost took a sip of his beer, "Calm down, Deadshot. She's still alive, it's not like he'll kill her."
Floyd stopped walking at his words, turning on his heels to see the younger man sitting comfily in his old, leather recliner. "Are you fucking kidding me? Did you see her when you went to him?"
Frost shook his head, "He didn't let anyone in to see her. Said it was his business."
Floyd was starting to shake, he was losing control of himself completely.
"You know, Frost-" before he could get anything out his cellphone began to ring. The burner one. The one Flag gave him when he left Belle Reve. The one that only rang when the Squad had a mission. The one that had only rang once so far.
"Not in the fucking mood, Flag." He spat.
"That kind of language towards your superiors will not be tolerated, Mr. Lawton." Waller's firm voice shot his confidence to Hell.
He coughed a little, trying to regain the confidence to speak. He looked over his shoulder, not trusting Frost to hear this conversation, "Ye-yeah. What do you want?"
"Harley Quinn's locator has been shut off for the past four hours."
He rubbed the back of his neck, "That's how long it's been?" He'd been so flustered he hadn't actually sat down and looked at the time since the whole thing happened.
"That's how long what's been? It barely noon, where the fuck is Quinn?" Waller's voice was even, but he could hear her irritation rippling through her tone.
He didn't want her to think Harley had run off with the Joker. He didn't want her finding out what happened and taking down Frost, his only chance of getting her back. "That's kinda a long story, actually-"
"Cut the shit, Lawton. Her location device is disabled but that doesn't mean her nanite was disarmed. You have five seconds to tell me where she is or I blow your lady friend's head off." Her voice was more on edge, but as serious as he's ever heard it. Waller might be level headed, but she was as mean as Harley on her worst day for sure.
"Whoa-whoa! No, nah. She's um-" He looked over his shoulder at Frost.
He stood up, slamming his mostly full bottle of beer, "I dunno who that is but don't fucking tell them what happened." He breathed, his eyes widening at Floyd on the phone.
"She was taken. By, uh. By the Joker." Floyd fumbled on his words, the gravity of the situation hitting him once more. He let out a deep breath, "He's had her since around the time her locator was probably shut off."
Frost let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his trimmed, expensive hair. "If I get arrested by your little criminal squad, my level of assistance will drop completely." He huffed, pacing nervously as Floyd was moments ago.
"How did you let this happen to her, Lawton?" Waller spat, anger seeping into her tone.
"They caught us off guard. Held Zoe hostage." He grunted into the phone, glaring at Frost.
"What's your location? It looks like you're somewhere in the woods." Waller inquired, typing noises creeping through the line from her side. She must've been preparing to send someone to him.
"Um, some safehouse. J's righthand man went rogue. He's hiding Zoe and I from J. Said he'd help me get Harley back."
"I'm sending the squad your way. Give me a few hours."
"Waller, we don't have a few hours! Waller? Hello?" She had hung up on him, not in the mood to hear him out. He pulled the phone from his ear, tossing it across the room where it connected with his mantle, knocking a picture in a frame into the floor.
"Watch it! That's my stuff." Frost barked, jogging over to the mantle.
Floyd, curious by Frost's odd behavior, strided across the room, beating him to the battered photo. He picked it up and held it in the light. There was an unfamiliar man in the photo with his arms wrapped around Harley. Well, Harleen. They both looked about high school age. She was in royal blue cap and gown. She was smiling as the guy held her bridal style. He looked like he was mid laugh, staring at the diploma that had fallen to the ground in the making of the photo. Harley's eyes were on the camera, one hand wrapped around the blonde man's shoulders while the other was clutching at her graduation cap, willing it to stay on her head. Floyd stared at the picture for a moment. This had to been almost ten years ago. Who was this guy? Why'd Frost have the photo?
He held the picture up to Frost, "The fuck is this? Is this Harley's?"
Frost shook his head, "She probably doesn't know that still exists. I would hide it when I'd bring her here."
"Why hide it ? Whose house are we in?"
Frost chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment. "This is my place. And that's my picture."
Floyd stared at the man in the photo, then at Frost. "Is this you?"
Frost didn't say anything, avoiding Floyd's eyes completely.
Floyd rolled his eyes, grabbing Frost and shoving him against the wall, "Look, we're running out of time and as long as she's unsafe then I'm not gonna have any patience. So tell me what you know, or it's gonna get real ugly for you, Frost,"
Frost sighed deeply, folding the glossy photo and putting it in his suit pocket.
He was walking down a foggy street in Gotham, his old Nikes stained and bleached from the chemicals down at ACE. His shifts had been really rough, sometimes working up to fifteen days before having a day to himself. He felt like a wage slave, barely making it by with all the work he was putting in, but trying to find more odd jobs here and there to care for his family. He ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair, sighing deeply. Yeah, this was definitely not how things were supposed to be.
His phone began to hum and buzz in the ripped pocket of his old cargo shorts. He rolled his eyes and groaned, assuming his boss was calling him in. "Is one day off too much to ask for?" he growled to himself as he fumbled with his old, ripped up pockets retrieving his cell. The number's area code was from out of town. He smiled. Brooklyn.
"Hey! Quinzel! How's life with all the criminals?" He breathed through a smile as he answered. Hearing from Harleen always made his life somewhat bearable.
"Oh it's scary as Hell, but exhilarating!" She exclaimed, laughing a little through the phone.
He slowed his pace a little, opting to go into a cafe and get a cup of coffee. "I'm not sure how cool I am with you around thieves and murderers and God knows who else." He muttered as he waved to the barista, meaning he'd take his usual: a black coffee and a cinnamon raisin bagel to go.
"Don't worry about me, Jonah!" She chirped, "There's cops watching and I'm just a student intern. They're not gonna put me with someone so dangerous I can't handle it."
He rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah let's hope so, Leen."
She chuckled through the phone, "Oh, guess what!"
He smiled, Harleen always got excited over the weirdest shit, "I'll bite, what?"
"There's a flyer outside the psych ward at the prison for student interns."
He rolled his eyes, "Please tell me it's not a volunteer sheet for electroshock therapy or something,"
He didn't have to see her to know she was chewing on her bottom lip, a smile forming and a witty remark pending, "Nah, I would've signed you up for that one, Jonah! But there's a transfer option for Arkham,"
He stopped short, fumbling with his phone between his chin and shoulder as he grabbed his food. "Asylum?" He muttered through a mouth full of his bagel.
"No, the cupcake factory,"
He rolled his eyes, "Shut up. Are you gonna transfer?"
"I think so. I miss Gotham,"
"There's no shortage of criminals here, that's for sure."
"I also wanna be there for you. And your family."
He sighed into the phone, knowing what she'd come home to was definitely not what he had told her his life was like, "Don't worry about us. If there were any issues, you'd know for sure."
"Something tells me that's not true."
"Leen, my family, myself included, adores you. If there was a problem, you'd be the first to know."
It was quiet on the other line for a moment, then he heard her sigh deeply, "I suppose. I just worry about you all. I don't hear much and what you do tell me is too vague for everything to be alright."
He forced a chuckle, "You've gotten really good at over analyzing people, Leen."
"Well I have all the time to properly analyze you when I get back home." Her tone was teasing, yet hopeful.
He felt a smirk forming, "When you come home, come home to me."
Her smile carried itself to his face all the way from Brooklyn, "I plan to, Frames."
His day became significantly worse when he arrived at the ACE entrance, "I've got to go, I have to lock up tonight at ACE."
"Lock up? Jonny it's 10 AM."
"Yeah well, this won't be my gig forever." He sighed, "I really have to go though. I'll call you when I'm off, if you're still up."
"I'll wait for it."
"Good to hear. I'll talk to you later, Quinzel. Miss you."
"Miss you too."
"So you were this Jonah guy?" Floyd asked after a moment, not sure of what else to say.
Frost simply nodded, "Harleen was my best friend."
"Did you join the Joker because she did?"
"No," he sighed, "Something happened that night,"
Floyd furrowed his eyebrows, "What happened?"
"When I was locking up, Mistah J came in for his little baptism or whatever. I'm still not sure how all that works, if I'm being honest." Frost mumbled, walking over to the coffee table and pouring himself a scotch. He offered one to Floyd who shook his head gruffly.
He took a long sip, holding the liquor in his mouth before gulping it down. Floyd noticed his eyes looked different, haunted. "I tried to hide from him. I didn't want any trouble and well, I was in too much debt to just die." He muttered, shaking his head to himself. "And he found me. I begged for my life, ended up with a job."
"And Harley?" Floyd asked, trying to mask his growing interest in the story.
"I didn't look like this, a long time ago. She knows me as the California native athlete, not the Joker's personal assistant. For all she knows, Jonah Frames died in a fire five years ago." He ran a hand through his gelled back hair, wincing slightly when he touched his still swollen eye. Floyd sighed at the younger man, the Joker got him good.
"When'd you see her again?" Floyd mumbled, looking at the floor, suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness and sympathy for the man and his situation.
"Arkham Asylum about three years back." He took another sip of scotch, "Strapped to a board getting juiced till the Joker figured she was insane enough for him," he finished darkly.
Floyd felt his fists ball up, "You didn't think to help her then?" He barked out at him.
He spun on his heel, fire in his eyes at he stared at Harley's boyfriend. "You think I didn't want to? Every day, watching the Joker neglect and beat on her. Putting her in harm's way? You think I enjoyed that?" He slammed his drink down at that, bounding closer to Floyd, getting in his face. "As twisted as it was, it was the life she wanted. I tried to take her away, every time shit hit the fan for her. I was there. I would take her here or some place else. She was safe, and I'd beg her to remain that way." He bellowed, but backed off after a moment, palming his bruised face in his hands. "She didn't want safe." He shook his head. He was talking in a way that made Floyd think he was scolding himself, instead of explaining the situation to another man. "She didn't want this life. She wanted a life with him."
"Then why'd you keep trying?" Floyd pressed, hoping all the information would get Frost to switch teams completely and help him kill the Joker.
He sighed deeply, looking at the older man as if he were lost, "Cause she used to have small freckles across her face that she hated. I loved them," He took a deep breath, "We used to sit on the roof of her building, smoking pot and watching the sun rise." He ran a couple hands through his hair, shuddering to himself. Floyd was anxious to see if he would break down, but he had a unique little look into both Harleen and Harley. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested in what he had to say. "She once punched a kid out in the second grade for saying I looked ugly with my braces. Broke his nose, got suspended," He looked down, laughing to himself at the memory. "She covered for me when I skipped school to party or work out. She'd pull all nighters to help me finish my homework and study. She cooked for my family every night when my dad died." He put both hands behind his head, knotting his fingers in his trimmed hair, taking another deep, shaky breath, "Because when my family thought I was dead, Harley sent them money from her job at Arkham each month, made sure they were taken care of." He shook his head again, looking up at Floyd after a moment. "She used to look like her mother. She had those magnetic poetry things. She was a horrible writer, but would be so proud when she'd make a phrase on her fridge. She was my date to both proms, and taught me how to braid her for my sisters. I taught her brother how to play guitar and football." He shook his head, the random memories of Harleen hitting him like a massive wave as a heavy feeling in his chest grew. "Leen was my best friend, she was my family."
Harley finally came to after what felt like days. Her body was sore and her muscles were tense, like she had been stuffed into someone's trunk and hauled across the country. When the drug's disorient wore off, her head bobbed slightly before she realized where she was. She was standing. Well, sort of. Her hands were fastened above her head with chains that hung down from the ceiling. The room was old and dusty. There was no light, minus some spare, Edison looking light bulbs that hung from the ceiling. None of them were on, and from the odd burning smell in the room, she figured most of them had probably burnt out. The only other source of light was more natural. There were four windows in this room. All paneled across one wall, the one to her right. The windows were boarded up, but some cracks of sunlight found their way in. The floor was covered in what was probably once white fuzzy carpeting, and in the back corner there was a crib. It was next to a small closet that's doors had been removed. All the clothing hanging up was small, as if for a toddler.
She hadn't ever been here before, but something felt oddly familiar. She shook her head violently, trying to remember what had happened. Frost coming to the door, sticking her with something. Floyd trying to help her. The Joker. Zoe. She let out a deep breath as everything that had happened finally hit her. The Joker had come to get her, and she was God knows where. God only knows what happened to Floyd and Zoe. She took several deep breaths, panic sinking in at the thought of what very well could've happened to the two people she loved most. Floyd and Zoe could very well be dead. She felt like crying, but she didn't want anyone to see her be weak. The Joker wasn't Floyd. He wouldn't take care of her if he saw her upset, it'd just make him laugh or lash out at her. She fluttered her eyes over and over, forcing the tears to stay in her eyes.
A door to her left opened, the force behind opening it was so great the door connected with the wall next to it. Hard. She wasn't watching, just hanging her head down, trying to find a way to relax her incredibly aching body, but from what she heard, there was definitely going to be a hole in the wall from the doorknob.
The Joker bounded into the center of the room, staring at her with his head at an awkward angle, like he was looking up at her, despite him being much taller. He was snarling under his breath as he approached her, something she used to love see him do to others when he was angry. Now, it just made her want to kick his teeth in, if she was going to be honest.
"Whadda we have here?" He bellowed as he bounded towards her, shirtless and in dark purple joggers. He took her face in his hands roughly, forcing her to look at him. "Daddy got you back, Sweetheart!" He cheered, moving his hands away from her to clap excitedly.
Harley rolled her eyes, turning her head away from him, opting not to give him the satisfaction of her words. He grabbed her chin between his fingers and yanked her head in his direction. He pulled so roughly her whole body jolted under his force, causing her shoulder to pop. She bit her tongue, holding in a yelp.
"Didn't you miss me?" He asked, mock hurt invading his voice. She glared at him, her baby blues boring into his icy stare. After a moment, all she offered him was a violent shake of her head. His eyes narrowed at that, squeezing her chin hard enough to ensure bruising. "Tell me you missed me, Pumpkin."
She spit in his face, smirking at him as he stepped back, blinking violently as he attempted to remove her saliva from his eyes. He looked back at him, his eyes brimming with rage. "That little Hotshot stole you from me, give ya a little bit of an attitude problem, didn't he?"
"Where is he?" She barked, her rage at the idea of the Joker hurting Floyd swallowing any amount of fear she had in this moment.
The Joker put a finger to her lips, shaking his head as a hissy, hush sound escaped his smiling lips. "All in good time, my dear. All in good time!" He pulled his hands away, clapping them over and over again gleefully.
Harley shook her head, "Nope. Nope, Mistah J. Where is he?" She leaned forward as he leaned away from her, the chains restricting her arms above her head preventing her from moving far.
He just began to laugh as he circled her, laughing louder each time she struggled against the chains. "Oh Harley, Harley, Harley. Always impatient,"
"What did ya do to him? Huh? Where the fuck is Floyd?" She bellowed, struggling against her chains, causing them to rattle loudly as she lunged at him while he circled her.
He leaned forward, gripping her throat tightly, causing her to freeze. "I'll tell you exactly where he is, my love." His voice was hoarse, but his smile was more wild than she'd seen it in a long time. The kind of smile he had when he'd killed her baby. She felt her blood run cold, the look in his face giving her the answer.
"No," she breathed, gravel in her voice.
He let go of her throat, causing her to take a deep breath, "No. No, no, no," was all she could manage. He turned away from her at that. His smile still predatory and wild as he walked over to a table in the corner, out of Harley's sight.
"You see, he had to go. Had to die, Pumpkin!" He cackled, banging his hand against the metal table, causing whatever instruments he had on it to clang and bounce against the surface. "He was teaching ya bad manners. Ruinin' all the progress we made together! Ya see? Can't have that, can we?"
She took several deep breaths. Floyd was dead, he was really dead. That meant Zoe was probably dead too. The two people she loved most in this world were gone. She was all she had left. Just Harley.
She heard a low zapping sound behind her back. Her wrists were growing raw at her strained attempts to move and struggle against the rusted, metal chains holding her in place. "What's going on? You gonna kill me this time?"
She didn't have to see him to know he was rolling his eyes. He skipped around the room, stopping once he was in front of her. She noticed he was holding a cattle prodder. The little voltage sounds it made every few seconds let her know it was on and he was ready to use it. She suddenly felt overexposed and vulnerable under his gaze. The fact that she had been taken in her athletic clothes added to the feeling. The only thing separating her from completely nudity was a tight pair of spandex leggings and a black sports bra. She tried to move away as he approached her, holding the tool away for a moment as he gripped her face. "Killing you takes all my fun away! I'm just gonna remake you, Sweetheart! It'll only hurt till you're my precious Harley again." His smile evaporated as he shoved the electric tool harshly against her torso, dragging it down her exposed stomach and shoving it against her abdomen. She jolted under the shocks and pain of the tool, trying to will her mind away from the memories of electroshock therapy coming back. He pulled away the prodder, smiling brightly once more. "Feeling more like yourself, Cupcake?" He asked innocently.
"Rot in Hell." She muttered, taking heaving breaths once the pressure of the shocks was off her body.
His eyes grew dark, "Fine. We'll just have playtime till you learn some manners!" He barked, drawing his hand back and smiling when it connected harshly against her face. His bedazzled, diamond studded ring connected with her cheek harshly, causing her mouth to fill with blood, and a sense of exhausted darkness filling her mind until her eyes gave into the blackness.
Next Chapter: The squad arrives, and everyone teams up to come up with a plan. Floyd confides in an unexpected source about his worries for Harley. The Joker works hard to make Harley "her old self" again.
