I realized something first thing this morning. Something that dropped fear on my brain like a ton of bricks.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, please, no.
I grabbed my phone and checked the app I used to discover … yep. I'm late. Over a week late. And I've been having a lot of sex. I jumped out of bed and ran from the room, needing somewhere to pace quietly. I cannot be pregnant. I don't want a kid.
A baby! A little bitty baby with my daddy! Yay!
Shut up, you little psycho. A kid would cramp my style.
I made it to the second bedroom before quietly shrieking to myself. I have to get a test. I have to get a dozen tests. Shit, no one can know about this. … I do not need baby daddy drama! No. No... I'll figure out if I'm pregnant and then I'll just get an abortion.
I managed to sneak out of the Penthouse before J woke up so I could run down to the nearest shop that sells pregnancy tests. Somehow, I even managed to make it back before he'd gotten up, so I rushed into the second bathroom as I was bursting to pee. I had to make sure, so I took five sticks and just peed on all of them.
Every. Single. One. Was NEGATIVE!
Praise whatever gods there are above, I am not pregnant. … Wait a minute... How am I not pregnant?
I've never been late before. My cycle has always been every 29 days, like clockwork. But I'm ten days late. I haven't been one day late ever. Not since I first started my period at the age of 14. What the hell is happening?
I was still musing over the situation over a cup of coffee when J found me in the kitchen. At the expression on my face, he queried, "What's wrong, baby girl?"
"It's nothing. … I think. … I don't know."
He poured himself a cup of coffee and moved over to the island, leaning on it with one arm while sipping the coffee with his other, "What is it?"
"I'm just … I'm late?"
"What do you mean?"
"I never been late and now it's like ten days overdue and that never happens but the sticks said not pregnant!"
He blinked slowly, having still just gotten up, but sighed once he understood what I was talking about. "You probably won't get it back."
"What?"
"Your period, right?"
"Yeah..."
"Yeah. I wasn't expecting you to have it again."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Do you remember drinking a full bottle of champagne at the Smile and Grin our first night out of Arkham?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you remember the 'vitamin shot' you got that prevented the hangover?"
"Yes! How come I haven't gotten one since then? Hangovers suck ass, and even if Sal's sandwiches are miracles in a wrapper, I'd rather get a shot and prevent them to begin with."
"They're not meant for after a chemical bath. Actually … they're not meant for before a chemical bath either."
"Will you just say what you mean?"
"There was more than just vitamins in the shot I gave you. There was also a birth control device, something that sits under your skin or something."
"You injected me with birth control?"
"I knew who you were, Pumpkin. I knew where we were going. I knew I had found my queen. And I knew that neither of us wanted a runt crawling around. So yes, I injected you with birth control. But then … well, then you decided to jump into a vat of chemicals. … Chemicals that melt medical devices."
"Are you saying" my fingers curled into fists, "Are you saying that whatever you put inside me has melted into me?"
"Probably." He sipped away at his coffee, nonplussed.
"Are you saying you sterilized me?"
"Probably." He sounded exactly the same. Like it was no big deal. Like it meant nothing.
"You permanently sterilized me?!"
He shrugged, "Prob-"
"If you say probably one more time, I am going to strangle you."
"What's got you in a twist?"
"In a twist? In a … you sterilized me!"
"What, like you want a kid?"
"Not now, but maybe someday!"
"Harley, can you ever see yourself actually being a mother?"
I shrieked wordlessly and threw my mug at him. He ducked out of the way and it smashed against the cabinet behind his head. "Whether I want to be a mother or not is not the point! You can't just castrate someone!"
"Oh, was I supposed to know you were going to ask to bathe in the chemical plant?" Crystal blue eyes held me contemptuously.
"That is not the point!" I yelled again. "How dare you?!"
"Princess, I do what I want, and I wanted you temporarily unable to have children. You can't blame me when you're the one who went and made it permanent." His smirk was infuriating.
I screamed at him, grabbing whatever random items were in front of me and throwing them at him. "You fucking bastard!"
"You need to calm down, little girl."
"You need to shut up!" I stormed from the room, heading straight for my closet. He followed after me, pissed off that I'd started a fight so early in the morning. "You think that just because it was supposed to be temporary that makes it ok?"
"I think that you'd already given me your heart. I know that you knew you'd do anything I'd ask. So why the fuck do I need to ask? If I want you to be able to fuck anyone, I'm certainly going to make sure there are no unwanted pregnancies!"
"Oh, but who worries about STDs, right? Let me be your little cum dumpster for whoever you want to get a turn, as long as I can't carry their kid."
"You don't have to worry about STDs. Not now anyway."
"What, you sneak some other injection of 'vitamins' into my body?"
"Another side effect of Ace Chemicals, my love."
"Quick healing on tattoos and no STDs. Sounds like I made an excellent trade-off."
"As compared to what?" he scowled, furious. "That mousey life in that shitty apartment? You'd rather be Dr. Harleen Quinzel?"
"I'd rather be … I'd rather be …"
"What?!" he demanded.
I went low. I didn't just crawl into the dirt; I bore down into magma. I stared him in the eye, expression as hateful as I could make it, "I deserve to be free ."
I can't describe the look on his face. The micro-expressions flashed in a matter of seconds, so many emotions conveyed at once. Anger, hurt, fear, rage, disappointment, pain, betrayal, desperation, fury, hatred, determination. "You're more free now than you have ever been."
"Free to do whatever you want, right? Free to be your little puppet on a string."
"Harley -"
"No! You stole from me!"
"You don't even want kids!"
"That's not the point!"
He grabbed me before I'd made it halfway across the second bedroom, before I made it to my closet, and I reared back, yanking my arm from his grip. I punched him square in the face and stomped on his toes, making him yelp furiously. Then I ran.
"Har- LEY !" he chased after me and I ducked through the halls before getting cornered in his office. I stood behind his desk, him on the other side between me and the door. "This is ridiculous. Would you just calm down?"
"Fuck you!" I picked up his laptop and threw it at him. I grabbed papers off his desk, pens, paperweights, anything I could get my fingers on, and threw them all in his direction. Rage drove me, not the monster. Just me in my own fury. "Fuck you!"
I circled the desk as he drew closer, keeping it between us, and when I got close enough to his office bar cart, I snatched up the lead crystal decanter, aimed, and threw it at his head.
Bullseye.
He dropped like an anchor, unconscious. At first, I wasn't sure, so I moved closer to check. After kicking him a couple times I knew for sure he was out. So, I went to my closet and packed a bag. I packed my costumes, some regular clothes, shoes, makeup, jewelry. Ok, so I had a couple bags by the time I was done. Then I took my Good Night bat, walked into the kitchen with my phone, placed it on the island, and proceeded to beat the shit out of it. I smashed it to pieces and left them all in a pile. Won't be able to find me this time, asshole.
I took my bags and went down to the garage before anyone could find either one of us. Once I grabbed my keys, I tossed my bags in the trunk and took the Quinnmobile up and out onto the streets of Gotham. I drove around for a while, wondering where I was going to go. What I was going to do. Who I was going to be. Then I stopped at the park so I could go in to sit down somewhere pretty and wrote this entry before I forgot a word of our fight.