Okay, I don't want to be that author that goes ballistic every time someone flames my work but this is unacceptable. I tried to be cordial to the guest who left that nasty review the last two times but I'm not going to sit back and let whoever it is think that they can keep being disgustingly rude about my writing. Whoever you are, I really would like it better if you would just "man-up" and login and send me a pm detailing your issues with my character so we can discuss it like civil individuals instead of me having to make this a public announcement for everyone to see. You repeatedly leaving ugly comments as a guest does nothing but enrage me because you have no sense of respect if you think it's okay to trash someone's work like you have been doing for mine. If you have such a problem with my story then why are still reading it and why do you keep leaving comments on how much you hate it? If you dislike my writing so much then don't read it. Go find some other story to occupy your time since mine is so screwed up.

Honestly I shouldn't have to keep defending my character to you. Lucy is an adult in a child's body. The two opposing mindsets cause her to act erratically. She is extremely vain because of who she was in her previous life and because of who her parents are now. She killed that henchmen that tried to help her back when she was a child because she couldn't risk him coming after her. Yes he showed her some kindness, but he was in the mob so he's not some golden saint that Lucy just killed for no reason. How is Lucy a hypocrite and where are you getting this from?

The Joker is known for being abusive but being able to manipulate people into thinking that violence is okay. His entire mindset is different from a regular person's because he is a psychopath/sociopath and they aren't able to express themselves in a similar manner as a mentally healthy person. Any child raised by him would learn to desensitize the violence he displays and view it as "normal". You're viewing his actions from your obtuse perspective without considering that he's incapable of expressing emotion in a healthy manner. Yes, I agree that it's domestic abuse and I don't support that at all, but when you write about the Joker you have include his violent tendencies, it's part of his core character.

Your theory of Stockholm Syndrome doesn't really stick cause Lucy wasn't kidnapped and didn't fall in love with her captor. She was born into a new family and she learned to adapt to her parent's lifestyles as any child does. Also she couldn't remember everything about her past life and she certainly didn't remember how she died. If anything Lucy is simply codependent on her parents because she has a crippling fear of being alone like she was in her previous life. So like Harley, she brushes off all the bad things because she'd rather be with the people causing her pain than be without them, that's what codependency is.

All in all, everything in your review just makes me think you're a major hater of Joker and Harley Quinn because you basically complained about everything that makes them tick. Joker is a violent, abusive, egotistical, temperamental, killer. Harley is a milder version of the Joker that's slightly more caring. Lucy is more or less a carbon copy of her parents. You clearly can't see past superficial traits so I don't know why you even bother reading any fanfic in general about Joker and Harley because every single story about them features the ugly side and good side of their relationship. Please don't bother leaving another review on my story featuring your uneducated viewpoint.

Fan fiction is a privilege to read. All of us writers take time out of our busy schedules to write these stories and we do it because we love it. I'm not getting paid to write any of this. The only benefit I get out of writing Fan Fiction is the reader's feedback and my own selfish desire to write about characters I love. So please, when you all write reviews be kind about it. You don't have to sit there and laude the author and tell them how amazing they are all the time. You can give them some criticism to help improve their writing, but please be considerate about it. The Golden Rule is still thing, people. Treat others how you want to be treated. I don't want my work being rudely flamed so I'm not going to verbally assault someone else's work.

xxxxxxx

"Won't fit anymore? Too much junk in the trunk?" Mama teased Deadshot, who was staring at his headgear. She applied bright red lipstick to her lips and winked when Deadshot turned around.

"Naw. Every time I put this on, somebody dies." Deadshot looked grim. He glanced at Mama, expecting to see disapproval. I snorted from my seat on the rim of Mama's case.

Major deja-vu. I had a similar conversation with Deadshot back when I was younger. He had the same apprehensive look on his face as he does now. It's amazing that no matter how old they get, people still subconsciously want to be accepted by others.

"And?" Mama questioned, not bothered by the news. She finished applying her makeup and put it all back in the case. With her makeup done, Mama was all suited up in her trademark t-shirt and tiny shorts. The other members of the squad started inching closer to Mama and Deadshot.

"I like putting it on." Deadshot smirked, pleased that Mama wasn't bothered by his admission.

"Goodie." Mama pulled a mallet out of the case and spun it around while she smiled excitedly. "Something tells me a whole lotta people are about to die." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Diablo chose to insert himself into conversation now that the ice had been broken. "Yeah it's us. We're being led to our deaths." Diablo uncomfortably fixed his jacket. His dark, despairing eyes then fell on me. "And they're even involving a kid in this. She shouldn't be here."

"Don't you worry about my Puddin Pop. She can handle herself just fine and if she gets into trouble, I'll bail her out." Mama waved off Diablo's concern. She did send me a worried glance as she handed me her mallet. I returned her glance with a confident smile. Diablo tried to persuade Mama otherwise, but Captain Boomerang cut him off.

"Hey, what's that crap on your face? Does it wash off?" The Aussie used his boomerang to gesture to the multiple tattoos covering Diablo's skin that made him look more corpse-like. Croc let out a deep chuckle.

Mama picked up her trusty good-night bat and rested it over her shoulder. "Hey, if you like a girl can you light her cigarette with your pinky?" She joined in on the hazing and raised her pinky to her mouth. "Because that would be real classy."

"You'll might wanna leave homeboy alone." Deadshot jumped in to end the joking around, catching on to Diablo's uneasy shuffling. "He can torch this whole joint. Ain't that right, ese?" Deadshot let the threat hang in the air.

"You got nothin to worry about from me. I'm cool homie." Diablo tipped his head at Deadshot and stepped back from the group. The others let him go and went back to checking on their gear.

"Now you hold on to that mallet, Puddin Pop. It's going to be your new best friend, got it?" Mama patted my head.

"Got it….Um, Mama?" I uttered. Mama tilted her head, urging me to go on. "Can I have a gun too?" I asked in all seriousness.

I don't have spectacular accuracy when it comes to using guns, but I'm going to need more than a mallet to stay alive in a fight against Enchantress's minions. I really wish I was some weapons expert. Only thing I'm good at using is knives and that's cause they're light enough for me to use. Guns just don't work for me at this point in my life.

"Hmmm." Mama hummed, crossing her arms to earnestly think about my request. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to give you one. But I want you to use it only in emergencies. Your aim's still spotty." Mama gave me a harness with a simple gun inside it.

"Woah, does she know how to use that? Cause I'd hate to die by friendly fire." Deadshot dubiously watched me take my jacket off and put the harness on.

I feel so cool with this on….But I need to take this seriously. I'm carrying a loaded weapon. I could hurt someone if I act stupidly.

"The name's Lucy, Mistah Deadshot and I'm not stupid. I won't shoot anyone. I know how to use a gun….More or less." I stood up, pouting at Deadshot's lack of faith in me.

Has he not remembered me yet? What's a girl got to do to make a fella remember her name?

"More or less could still end with one'a us getting shot in the buttocks. An ankle bitter with'a gun is bad idea, mate." Boomerang stepped next to Deadshot and rested his arm on the hitman's shoulder. Deadshot shrugged Boomerang off his shoulder.

"Hey! Don't go ganging up on my Puddin Pop." Mama pointed her bat at the two men insisting me having a gun was a bad idea. "Anybody who messes with Lucy gets their face smashed in by your's truly." Deadshot and Boomerang both raised their arms up in a placating manner.

"Whatever you say, Your Craziness. I quite like my mug the way it is." Boomerang backed away. Mama lowered her bat. I walked over to Deadshot.

"I wouldn't mind you giving me a few pointers though. I never got a chance to ask before, on account of being too busy trying to get home in one piece." I smiled at the hitman, hoping my hint would jog his memory.

"Before?" Deadshot scratched his beard and squinted his eyes, looking me over. Suddenly he gasped in shock. "Hell no! You're that crazy clown kid. No wonder you looked familiar."

"The one and only, Lucia Quinn at your service." I took a bow causing Deadshot to chuckle.

"I suppose I could give you a few tips."

xxxxxxx

"Harley Quinn, nice to meet'cha." Mama held her hand out to the black-clad warrior woman that arrived on the plane. Katana impassively stared at Mama with her cold black eyes. Seeing that a handshake was out, Mama lowered her arm. "Love your perfume. What is that, the stench of death?" Mama cackled.

Katana said something in her mother tongue while gripping her blade. Ricky intervened. "Woah, it ain't that kind of mission. Have a seat." He patted the spot to next him.

Mama giggled and fake-whispered to me. "She seems nice."

"Yeah, she only tried to kill you. Nothing wrong with that, it's how most people greet us." I joked. Katana huffed and sat next to Ricky.

With the last member added to the team, the helicopter took off towards Midway City. I gulped from the sick feeling I got in my stomach from the plane ascending. Mama rubbed my arm after observing how much paler I became. The others looked fine, with the exception of Croc, who looked as uncomfortable as me. Something vibrating against my side made me look at Mama. She sneakily pulled a phone out of her jacket and looked at the screen. Mama gently smiled and moved a little so I could see the screen too.

I'm coming for you two, glowed on the screen.

HaHaHaHaHa.

Papa's on track. He's coming to get us. He must have already visited the lab where the nanites are made. The doctor there will be able to deactivate the nanites…There might be one in my neck too. I'm too terrified to actually ask Ricky if there is one residing in my neck. It's better if I don't share this concern with Mama. She might go on a rampage and kill everyone if she finds out they put a bomb in my neck.

"Shhh." Mama murmured to Deadshot. He smirked and nodded his head, keeping quiet about Mama's cell phone.

Deadshot and Mama hit it off after I explained to her it was Deadshot that helped me get back home after I was kidnapped the first time. Deadshot vaguely recalled seeing Mama with Papa and joked that Mama wouldn't have recognized him since she was too busy drowning me in kisses when they met. Mama laughed that off and decided that Deadshot was an alright guy.

"So uh, Flag….How come you and your mates get to be lazy buggers while we're the ones putting our asses on the line for this mission?" Boomerang shouted over the noise.

Needless to say, no one was happy about having to play fetch for the HVT or having to listen to Waller's threats. And a few naysayers were still against me being brought along.

HaHaHaHaHa.

I'm very flattered that these guys care so much, but anything is better than being trapped in solitary confinement. I'll take traveling into dangerous territory where there's a ninety percent chance I could die, over staring at a white wall and being used as a guinea pig, any day.

"Our sacrifices will help redeem our sinful pasts." Diablo's mellow voice brought me back into the conversation.

Boomerang laughed. "Well Skulls, you want to sacrifice yourself then don't let me stop you. I'm not so into redemption. My thing's cash, U.S. dollars are high on the list right now." Boomerang rubbed his fingers together in the universal symbol for money.

"Flag's paying you?! Hell, I should be getting seventy-nine percent of whatever you get." Mama yelled. "I mean, being a babe and such. Plus I got a cute little munchkin to support." She fondly pinched my cheek. I giggled.

"Relax, kitten. I told Flag that while I was doing his job, I might also check out a couple of brick-and-mortars and see if there's anything in'em I wanted. You know, since the city's kind of abandoned." Boomerang shrugged his shoulders. "He didn't say no which pretty much means yes."

"Okay. I feel better now. Maybe I'll find something in the city for you, Puddin Pop. I still owe you a gift." Mama smiled at me before addressing Croc, who hadn't said anything since the group got together. "So Alligator Guy, what about you? Why are you here?"

"I was bored." Croc growled. "Fighting sounds a helluva lot better than slogging through that godforsaken sewer for the rest of existence, you ask me."

Woah! He talks in full sentences. I thought Croc was limited to growling and simple speech.

"Yeah, I get you. Killing's good, fighting's good too, and getting out of jail free is very good. And getting my baby girl back was a bonus. I wasn't seeing a downside to their offer." Mama bobbed her head, agreeing with Croc. Unexpectedly this conversation has turned into a game of share and tell. Mama raised her eyebrow at Deadshot.

Deadshot chuckled. "Mission doesn't matter. Never has. I say yes to a job, I complete it. This job, I don't care who I kill or why. All I care about is getting time off my sentence so I can have extra days with my daughter again."

Mama perked up. "We gotta schedule a playdate for our girls when we get out. Lucy doesn't have any female friends her age." She nudged Deadshot, playfully. The hitman shook his head and sent me a meaningful glance, probably revisiting the time I asked him for the same thing. I flashed him a grin.

"And what about you, newbie?" Mama spoke to Slipknot. "Wanna share with us? Why did you say yes? I mean beyond the neck kaboom you'd be hearing if we turned it down."

"Got my ropes back and I don't got shackles." Slipknot shortly replied. Silence dragged on as everyone waited for him to explain further.

What a buzz kill. Everyone else gave open and heartfelt answers.

"Thanks for sharing, Slippy. Good talk." Mama bit her lip to stop herself from further antagonizing the man. Slipknot didn't appreciate the untied shoelace joke Mama played on him earlier when we were boarding the helicopter. Mama moved on to the resident pyromaniac. "Since you've been bitching about everything including breathing, I gotta think you joined hoping to die or something." Diablo looked shocked by Mama's astute guess. She went on analyzing Diablo. "In the old days when Doctor preceded my name, I woulda said you had a guilty conscience because of all the killing you've done but now….You're just some off-the-charts whackadoodle who kills because like, why not? But there's no way I'm gonna let you take me or my Puddin Pop down with you. Capisce?" Mama delivered her diagnosis with a deadly glare for Diablo.

Damnnnn! Mama tore into him. She must be feeling extremely territorial because Diablo has been in her ear about my safety since he saw me. I get where he's coming from since he lost his kids so I didn't say anything when he expressed concern for me. Mama, however got offended that he kept questioning her judgement. The difference in parenting has caused them to butt heads a little.

"I don't want anyone else to be harmed." Diablo sadly admitted. "My struggle is mine alone. My crimes are mine alone. My fate should be mine alone."

So tragically poetic. I'll start crying if he keeps this up. The part where he confessed about his family was the saddest shit to watch.

"Yeah, whatever Freud." Mama scoffed. "Anyway. So we're doing this, huh? We're what? Six musketeers? Or seven? I dunno. I always sucked at math."

Deadshot, the man who never misses. Harley Quinn, the total wildcard. El Diablo, the pyrokinetic homeboy. Captain Boomerang, the Aussie thief. Killer Croc, the monster. Slipknot, the man who can climb anything. Six bad guys. It becomes seven if Katana is included, but since she doesn't see herself as a villain she's not lumped in with the others.

"Six." Croc answered for Mama.

"You heard the alligator. We're the Suicide Squad Six. I do like them alliterations." Mama cheered. She then turned to look out the window since no one else was willing to talk anymore. I leaned my head against her side and she scratched my head. I sighed.

This is the calm before the storm. Soon enough we're going to be on the streets fighting against weird, mutated, humans. I'm going to have to pull my own weight. I can't rely on Mama to protect me….If I weren't so young and small I could be more of an asset to the team. When I get home, I'm going to start taking things seriously. No more playing around like I'm untouchable. I'm going to train myself to be the baddest bitch in town. I'm going to become truly worthy of the title, Princess of Crime. Wall-Block was right. I was pretending to be bigger than I really am. That's all gonna change when I get back to Gotham City.

Princess Lucia is going to reinvent herself when the time is right.

"Look at the pretty lights!" Mama shouted. She swung around to wildly point at what was going on outside. "Are you guys seeing this?"

"What happened?" Deadshot asked Ricky.

Ricky took his headset off before answering. "Terror attack. Dirty bombs, bad guys shooting up the place with AK's. You know, the usual bullshit." Ricky said with a completely straight face. His eye's shifted over to me, silently commanding me not to say a word to refute him.

The Colonel already told me to keep my mouth shut about Enchantress beforehand. I don't know why he keeps acting like I'm going to blurt out his secret. I am really tempted though to just run my mouth off and see everything blow up in his and Waller's faces. I won't be a little snitch and ruin all the fun this time. I'm kind of done with trying to manipulate the plot. Obviously my efforts don't mean a goddam thing in the grand scheme of this world. Everything has played out pretty much the same as it did in the movie, regardless of my dumb interference.

"Right...Yeah, you're a bad liar." Deadshot called Ricky's bluff. "I don't know if they told you, but I'm a hitman. I'm not a fireman, I don't save people."

HaHaHaHaHa.

It's a kind of jarring to hear Deadshot be so cynical about himself when the last time I spoke to him he was unsure about his own potential. Back then he was firmly against being on the bad spectrum of life. Now he's against the good spectrum of life. Humans can be so complicated. I do wonder what really caused the change from Floyd Lawton, the bodyguard to Deadshot, the hitman.

"Anything for a dollar right?" Ricky mocked Deadshot.

"You know the dark places too. Don't act like you don't." Deadshot fired back.

"I'm a soldier. And you're a serial killer who takes credit cards. When the shooting starts and it will, you'll cut and run." Ricky pressed. Disdain and contempt oozed from him. Deadshot looked away with a nasty smile that promised retribution.

"Talk about a dogfight. They're both trying so hard to be the alpha male." I remarked. Mama laughed while Ricky and Deadshot sent me dark looks.

The helicopter swerving ended any further talking. Everyone screamed as gunshots went off in the front of the copter and ricocheted into the back. Alarms went off as the chopper hit something and we all were violently jerked around. My stomach dropped for the second time and I loudly screamed as I felt the helicopter plummeting downwards. Mama's arms pressed against me, shoving back towards the wall.

HaHaHaHaHa.

God! How many crashes do I have to suffer through?! I'm starting to hate any form of transportation!

HaHaHaHaHa.

I think I'm going to puke.

Keep it together, Lucy! xoxoxoxoxo