AN: So... A lot of you are pissed about me killing off Jerome. But this is the Gotham universe, no one stays truly dead. Which is why I decided to give you all this chapter. It gives a lot of insight into the plot I have going on, which I hope you all will still continue to enjoy. Just, before you write off this story forever, please read the chapter. It will make sense. I promise.

Okay. Serious time. I was left a certain review that was very much a backhanded compliment. In addition to killing off Jerome- was very upset over the fact that Ivy had a crush on Harley. Usually I would leave this review to wither, but I felt I needed to clear things up. I am very aware that pre-New 52 comics have Ivy as asexual. Asexuality is the absence of sexual attraction. However, asexuals can be sex positive or sex repulsed, depending on their personal preferences. Asexuals can feel romantic attraction, which is exactly what Ivy feels for Harley in this story. For the purposes of this story, she is biromantic and asexual, which is a very possible combination given Comic!Ivy's relationship with Harley. My Ivy is a blend of what we know in the show, a precursor and basis to some of her comic behaviors.

And before someone argues that crushes are about wanting to have sex with someone, they aren't. There's a word for that and it's called lust.

Now I am not asexual. However, my best friend is and has helped me understand asexuality and was offended that someone had insinuated that her community could not feel romantic attraction. This will be the last and only time I will address this. Please do your research on a topic before going into social justice mode.

TDLR: One does not have to be heteroromantic to be asexual.

For those that continue to support this story, thank you so much! You are wonderful! The song is Jesus of Suburbia by Green Day. Happy reading! (I promise it's happier this time)

Chapter 14

Dearly beloved are you listening?

I can't remember a word that you were saying

Are we demented or am I disturbed?

The space that's in between insane and insecure

Harley had cornered Jonathan on a brick wall outside the warehouse. Jerome's body was already safely out, mother blonde had dragged it out to a street corner before calling 911 on a pay phone. It was the best she could do at this point, with her attention centered on Jonathan. Her bar was aimed, ready to strike.

"J's dead, Harleen. You're free of him. You don't have to do this anymore," he managed through gasps of pain.

The reminder only spurred on the girl even more. The bat clattered to the floor. With her free hand, the blonde flicked open a pocket knife. The blade went instantly against the teen's throat as Harley backed him up against the brick wall of the alley. The dim lighting cast distorted shadows on Jonathan's face . The blonde practically snarled at him, eyebrows furrowed into a hard line. He had no idea of her rage, of what she was capable of or what she had planned for him.

"Why? Why not me?!" She screamed. "He would be fine without me!"

The teen frowned. "J was going to kill me, I had no choice. It's not like I intended to kill him. There's a bounty on my head and you two just had the short stick."

"You asshole!" She shouted through tears, this time her arm pinning the other to the wall. "He was my person, you could have just KOed him or... Or... Or something!"

"Eloquent word choice, Harleen," Jonathan commented.

"Ah hate you, this is your fucking fault!" Harley set her brows into a furrowed line. Jonathan was going to pay... "Why the hell were you there?"

Jonathan sighed, using two fingers to bring the knife farther from his neck. "I was creating an antidote to the fear toxin. It works for a few hours at a time, given the right dosages."

She couldn't kill him, Jonathan was too invested in Harley's own life for her to do that. It would be a mercy killing, with the way his brain worked now. The hallucinations, the fear... Harley stepped back, resolution in her baby blue eyes. She wouldn't kill him, but she had all the tools to make him suffer. And suffer he would.

"Ah will destroy you," she promised, picking up her fallen knife. "By the time this is over, you will have wished Ah killed you."

With that ominous pronouncement, Harley flicked open her lighter. The second light source made her face look older and harder. It revealed the spark of something in her, that little slice of insanity that had been carved just for her. With a light throw, the lighter flew through the window. The gasoline trail she had laid sparked up in flames. Calmly, the blonde stalked away, ignoring the pained cries of her friend. In fact, the harlequin let herself smile as Jonathan's research went up in fiery retribution.

•••

Dr Strange watched as the newest acquisition of Indian Hill was wheeled into the amphitheater. Another body, another tube. Ms Peabody stood at his back, ever watchful and ever present. Strange actually enjoyed her company, as much as he could enjoy other, ordinary humans. The extraordinary ones, those were the people he longed to be around. The were just fascinating. From the like minded Doctor Freise to the perplexing yet intriguing Fish Mooney, Strange finally felt at an equal standpoint with these people that normal society would dismiss as freaks. But with the newest body, Strange had to admit that he had a few doubts.

The shock of red hair was certainly the first misgiving. Strange did not particularly enjoy redheads, he found their skin too fragile with wounds and scarring to help with any sort of regenerative testing. Skin. The boy's skin was another problem. Strange liked to leave his mark on his experiments, a clear indication of what had made them. The newest subject, his skin was littered with imperfections! Scars of all sizes, freckles, and what the doctor believed to unhealed scratches. He didn't want to think of the acts that had caused those scratches, never being one for intimate pleasures.

But, the redhead's reputation was certainly impressive. The last, truly great member of the Maniax. Kidnapping, murder, arson, a surprisingly good Russian Roulette player, name it and the skinny teen had certainly done it. Strange had taken on Jerome Valeska as more of a pet project, rather than his others. They all had such simple procedures. Reanimate, turn loose, enjoy their mayhem. No, Valeska was a special case. Hugo Strange had a long held question and was now finally getting the answer: how long does it take to break a psychopath?

"This one seems more trouble than he's worth," Ms Peabody commented.

Strange followed her line of sight to Valeska, who was slowly defrosting due to Freise's ingenious technology. The doctor smiled in amusement as the teen sat up, testing his limbs before bounding over to one of the guards in an attempt to strangle him. Apparently this boy had no recuperation period. Fascinating.

"He will be worth it," the doctor commented, watching as Valeska took out every orderly and guard in the room.

Ms Peabody frowned. "And you don't believe the girlfriend will come looking for revenge?"

"The Quinzel girl?" He scoffed. "She doesn't even pose a threat."

"But she did break two of the most volatile patients out of Arkham and was coming dangerously close to Indian Hill," she argued.

Dr Strange did have to give her that. Pressing a button that allowed the inhabitants of the chamber to hear him, the PA system crackled to life. Valeska seemed to be intrigued by this, but did not stop as more guards piled through the door. They wrangled the squirming teen down onto the chair.

"Mr Valeska, I am Hugo Strange, your generous benefactor," he began.

"Yeah, yeah. I owe you my life and shit," the redhead laughed. "When are we gonna get to the fun stuff doctor? Little electrocution, little water torture. I'm not here because I was a good boy."

The cap was lowered over his head and the wooden bit placed into his mouth. Strange turned on the electric chair, smirking. Instead of screaming in agony, Valeska simply laughed. A haunting sound that would shake a lesser man to the very core. Yes, he certainly was interesting.