AN: Hiya, so this fic is heavily inspired by BTAS though it borrows a bit from elsewhere. I'm not commonly a romance writer but a darkness/abuse kinda creature so it'll admittedly be a bit weird in places if i can do this. For this fic, I placed Jonathan Crane on the asexual spectrum. Harley in this is quite sexually manipulative. There may be some sexual references though I generally have a strict 'fade to black' policy. There will also be a tiny bit of masochism, (mild) spanking and legal age teacher/student kink. There will be depictions of violence, emotional manipulation and so forth.

Anyway, don't own anything. Don't read this if you don't belong at Arkham.

"You're going to regret it."

Harley had huffed. Ivy was swell and all - mostly, but she just didn't get it.

"'E needs me, Red!" she replied.

Poison Ivy crossed her arms. Even in the dim green light coming only from the exit sign, it was clear just how angry she was.

"Well…" said Pamela. "He didn't need you when he escaped. He walked right past us and he didn't even look at you!"

"Ya just don't understand! My puddin' was under so much pressure. There wasn't time! E'd have come for me already if it wasn't..."

Harley trailed off as she tore the fabric of her mattress. There were many reasons she could give Pamela. Not that she actually knew for sure which one was right. Batman got in the way. He needed time to plan. There was too much traffic on the highway. It didn't matter. The point wasn't why the Joker hadn't come for her - it was that Harley knew in her heart that he would! Only, now she'd read in the paper - which admittedly was some days out of date, that he'd almost gotten caught during a robbery. He needed her. She'd have to come to him.

In the cell across the hall, Poison Ivy exhaled in a hiss.

"Don't be like that, Red," Harley pleaded as she was twisting the fabric into a makeshift rope. "Come with me, eh?!"

She looked up at her friend's face - obscured by the darkness and the two layers of glass between them.

"There's room in the pipe for two," Harley smiled, teasingly.

"Hard pass," Ivy muttered.

"Aww, come on!" Harley pleaded.

"He treats you like dirt, Harles'. I'm not going to stop you, but you'd better not come running to me when he breaks another rib!"

That was what Ivy had said. Harley Quinn wasn't even exactly sure what she'd replied to that declaration, as she'd taken her rope and ran out of the cell door with the already picked lock. She'd been in tears. Pamela could be so mean to her and to her puddin'. She felt the mixture of tears, rain and blood trickle down over her face. A sob escaped her and caused her to whimper as the action sent ripples of pain through her body.

"P-puddin'," she whispered.

But he couldn't hear her. She heard distant laughter, but the professional side of her knew it was all in her head. The Joker took off with his other goons several minutes ago. It wouldn't be long before the police - or Batman, would be here. All she wanted to do was help. It was a good idea too! Just adding a little extra fun to the explosives. She was so sure it would make him laugh. That's all she wanted - to make him laugh.

The Joker wasn't exactly pleased when Harley Quinn showed up. Harley couldn't quite understand why. Perhaps he had wanted the chance to be her hero when he came for her - that was a thought that made her smile and squeal with joy. She just wanted to get back on his good side, show him how useful she was and how much she loved him. Perhaps she had added too much glitter to the mixture. Perhaps it was too much confetti. Maybe it had been the Silly String. Either way what came out when Joker had used the explosives on the bank vault was not the awesometastic, carnival-extraordinaire fireworks she had expected. Instead it had all turned into some sort of glittery, sticky gue that covered all the money, the Joker, the goons and herself. Every dollar was easily traceable now and the Joker himself screamed with rage.

She was so cold. The rain kept hammering every inch of her battered body with force. She didn't even know if she was still bleeding - everything felt cold, wet and slick. Any minute now - any minute they'd be here and Harley Quinn would be hauled back to Arkham. They'd patch her up sure - on the outside, but it wasn't her broken bones or bruises that Harley suffered most in this moment. It was the memory of her own voice pleading and begging, her boyfriends deranged screaming as he just wouldn't listen to her and the shame. At first it was the shame of not being good enough. She'd tried her best - she really had. Then it was the shame of having to look Poison Ivy in the eye. She felt like the most stupid, most pathetic creature in the world and she was pretty sure that was exactly what she was. No, she couldn't take it. Not again.

'You'd better not come running to me.'

Well, she wouldn't. Harley sniffed and inhaled a drop of blood. Something broke inside her. She screamed. She screamed out the twirling concoction of pain which radiated through her body and heart alike. With a strength of will even Harley didn't know she had, she lifted her torso off the parking lot asphalt and screamed louder in the direction the Joker's car had taken off in.

"Y-you bastard!" she cried.

She'd show him. She'd show Ivy. She didn't need anyone.

Harley Quinn wasn't stupid. She wasn't a pushover. They'd see. She'd never run after another villain again. Always the sidekick - whether it was Joker or Poison Ivy. She'd take over this town on her own! Harley Quinn - Queen of crime!

She staggered to her feet, spitting red as she did so and holding on to her abdomen as if it'd fall out. Her shoulders shook. Of course she had nowhere to go. Nowhere to start. She'd have to get her own goons, her own money, her own power - but most importantly some damn medical care. That had to take first priority - even over her wounded pride. Hospitals were out. They'd report her. She'd have to ask for help somewhere else, she thought as she took the first horrible steps out of the parking lot.

Still, she wasn't going to bow to any one ever again. No way. Who did she know? Who was even out of Arkham? And more importantly: Who could she manipulate long enough to take over their operation? There were plenty of villains around who liked her. Who looked at her body in a certain way whenever Mistah J couldn't see it. Her cheeks blushed at the memory of his protectiveness.

'No! Stop it, Harley!' she reprimanded herself.

No more. She could probably get them to give her anything. Some of them were wealthy. Some had a massive arsenal. Some had the loyalty of dozens. This time though, they would become Harley Quinn's - not the other way around. The rain was slowly stopping as her dripping form disappeared down the street. She knew where she could ask around.

TBC