The night concluded like any other. The redhead fell into a routine she'd created many years ago. After a day of pruning, weeding, and whispering words of affirmation to her plants, Pamela would tuck herself away into the comfort of her greenhouse — only after she'd made herself a cup of green tea.
She'd been focused on a new study — creating a new species of carnivorous plants that would surely put Batman in his place! Since he and the GCPD burned the last of her babies during her last heist, Ivy was determined to get her revenge. The sound of their cries, the way the air grew thick with smoke as the last bit of green turned into char, it all broke her heart. Shattered it. Ivy had felt their pain, had heard the cries for their mother all the while her legs could no longer hold her up. She fell to the ground - shouting, screaming, and crying for her lost children.
It didn't end, even as she was transported to Arkham Asylum.
Ivy was determined now. Nothing was going to stop her from avenging her children. She didn't want to take them in the first place, but the green had reassured her — told her they were ready. And damn, they had put up a good fight. Nearly swallowed two GCPD officers and Batman himself.
A deep sigh fell from her crimson lips, one eye closed while she studied the cells within the microscope. It had been weeks since she'd escaped Arkham, weeks since she'd begun her research. Trial after trial, failure after failure. It seemed like a dead end, but she wasn't ready to give up.
The Gotham breeze hit her hard, long legs guiding her from the greenhouse back to the comfort of her hideout. Ivy paid no mind to it though, emerald fingers briefly caressing the various plants planted along the way. Robinson Park. It was her home, her haven in the middle of the madness that was Gotham City. One day, it'll all change.
She planned on it.
With the water-filled kettle sitting neatly on top of her stove, Ivy crossed her arms over her chest as emerald eyes settled on the white ceramic mug on the counter. ''Plants are friends, not food' was written in large green text. It'd been a ridiculous gift though not one Ivy could reject.
Her baby blue hues glistened, watching as the redhead gently shook the package, lips pursed as Ivy carefully began to unwrap it.
"Oh c'mon, Pammy!" she huffed with an adorable pout. "You're slower than my nan on Hanukkah."
"Patience, peanut," she smirked, gently tossing the wrapping paper towards the blonde who sat on the edge of her kitchen counter.
Pamela wasn't sure what to expect when Harley told her she'd gotten her a gift. The blonde was rather unpredictable. She'd assumed it'd be a plant or a seed of some sort, but another part of her — deep within her — hoped it'd be the decapitated head of the Joker. Unfortunately, the box wasn't big enough.
One could only dream…
"Harls…" she breathed, fingers delicately curling around the white mug, releasing it from its stronghold. Emerald eyes studied it, examining every little nook and cranny before focusing on the text. "Plants are friends, not food…?"
"D'ya like it, Red?" Harley grinned — a smile that caused Pam's heart to give a stuttered throb. "It's a reference from Finding Nemo. I made ya watch it a few months ago - 'cept I changed 'fish' to plants since yah love plants so much!"
Ivy wasn't sure what to make of the gift but there was one thing she knew; Harley had put effort into getting it for her. Hell, she hadn't even stolen it! That thought alone caused her heart to swell, the organ pounding hard against her chest as she set the mug down.
"Harley," she repeated, her voice softer than before. "I love it. Thank you."
Tap tap tap.
The memory ripped away, hues shifting from the mug towards the front door. Her brows furrowed, a soft line creasing her forehead as her lips pursed. The green hadn't alerted her of any intruders, and no one would dare step a foot into the park, especially this late at night.
Had Batman found her? Not that she was perfectly tucked away. No, with how the environment flourished within the park, no one would doubt it was due to Poison Ivy. And no one would dare challenge her in her territory.
Tap tap tap.
With an exasperated sigh, Ivy turned the stove off and moved from the kitchen to the door. Wordlessly, she communicated with the greenery surrounding her, hearing them ensure her they'd come to her protection. There hadn't been a doubt in her mind as she gripped the copper knob, pulling the door open.
…
The last time was supposed to be the last time.
There would be no more blood, bruises, tears, and heartbreak.
It'd been a never-ending dance between the two of them. A dance Pamela Isley, Poison Ivy, was exhausted from. With blistered feet and a bruised heart, it was a dance she couldn't stop participating in.
"Red…" The blonde murmured, bloody fist still up in the air as if she were to knock again. Had she been in her right state of mind, Harley would've apologized for the blood staining her door and front steps.
Pamela couldn't breathe. The blood coursed through her veins; her heart thumping so loudly against her chest that she barely hears Harley's voice.
There she was, stood in front of her, jester costume torn in multiple spots while blood soaked the material that hugged her stomach and right thigh. Forcing herself to look up, Ivy made note of Harley's split eyebrow and the bruise already prominent along her left eye.
"Pamela…" Harley spoke, louder this time.
"Shh," She whispered, hand reaching out, their fingers lacing together as she gently pulled her inside. "We need to dress your wounds."
The blonde parted her lips — as if she were to explain herself or apologize — only to be met with an index finger. She couldn't meet her gaze, baby blue hues focusing on anything else besides the piercing gaze she knew came from the taller woman.
"You're safe now, Harley," Ivy reassured, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Come."
The walk to the bathroom was long. Ivy kept her pace slow and calculated, making note of Harley's limp, not wanting to further open the cut along her thigh.
To think that he did this to her. Not once. Not twice. But, on multiple occasions? It infuriated the redhead, so much so she could taste the metallic crimson that plagued her tongue. She'd only hoped she hadn't gripped Harley's hand too tightly. And if she did, the blonde hadn't mentioned it.
"Sit," She instructed, not watching Harley as she took her position on top of the toilet. It sickened her — emotionally and physically — how this became a routine of theirs. The blonde is susceptible to chaos but even she had to be over it, over this.
"'M sorry, Red."
Harley's voice was so soft, the pain tucked away rather well. It nearly made Ivy stop but the redhead continued, opening the medicine cabinet to pull out the immaculate first-aid kit she kept just for her. Ivy didn't need medical attention, not in the traditional way, but who else would Harley turn to if not her?
"For?" She responded, emerald fingers grabbing a washcloth and tucking it under warm water.
The question came out faster than she could think. Ivy knew exactly why Harley had apologized. The blonde was far from stupid and if anyone was well-aware of that fact, it was Ivy. Still, she couldn't help but gently push her forward — in hope Harley had finally come to her senses.
"Y-you," Harley breathed, slamming her eyes shut. Her body ached, vision blurred and yet, she somehow found the strength to continue. "You're always patchin' me up, Red…"
Well, it's not exactly what she'd been hoping for but at least it was a step in the right direction. Ivy sighed, green hues tearing away from the blonde and focusing back on the cloth. What was she supposed to say to that? Ivy was exhausted. It's not the first time she'd come to her, and it wouldn't be the last. How many more times would the blonde endure this before she realized she deserved better?
The apology is left unacknowledged. With the faucet off, Ivy placed the cloth down, long legs guiding her back to the blonde. "We need to remove… this," godawful costume, is what she wanted to say.
Harley nodded, attempting to lift her arms though immediately pulled them back down as a jolt of pain rushed through her. The cut along her stomach must've been worse than she thought, so she shook her head - loose pigtails gently spilling over her shoulders.
Ivy sighed and reached into the kit along the counter, pulling out a pair of scissors. There'd been no remorse. Ivy felt nothing but satisfaction as she watched the fabric of that ridiculous costume split apart. Harley had flinched a few times, teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tried her best to ignore the pain, fending off any tears that threatened to spill.
Harley felt exposed, sat on top of the toilet with her red and black sports bra and underwear on display. A deep blush pooled within her pale cheeks, baby blue hues finally seeking green. They never came though, as they were locked onto her wounds.
It was worse than Ivy thought. Bruises spread themselves along the blonde's ribcage, shoulders, and thigh. The sight itself was nauseating and how Harley managed to get here alone, Ivy couldn't even imagine how she'd done it time after time.
Dressing the injuries had been a process yet Ivy was patient with her. The blonde wiggled and squirmed, soft whimpers fell from her lips as Ivy cleaned her wounds and stitched her up, even dipping into her neon green salve that would accelerate Harley's healing. To Ivy's surprise, the blonde doesn't make a comment regarding the smell…something she'd always done before.
"It's like a radioactive pine tree took a shit," Harley mumbled, lower lip pushed out in a pout.
"How eloquent," Ivy responded, "It'll help with your healing, and it's made from natural materials."
"Nu-uh. Anything that looks and smells like that can't be natural…"
The silence was excruciating and lingered too long for Harley's liking. Lips opened and closed multiple times, hoping to find the right words while Ivy kept her stoic nature, laying out clothes along the bed.
"Do you need help changing?" Ivy asked, finally meeting Harley's gaze.
"Um…" Her words were barely above a whisper and the blonde found herself crumbling under her gaze. Don't cry. Don't show her how weak you are. Quickly, she averted her gaze to the clothes, a shiver running down her spine. "No."
"I'll give you some space."
…
Harley doesn't watch her leave. Nor does she register the sound of the door shutting, the sound echoing throughout the room. Instead, she's fixated on how dark Ivy's eyes had been.
Sure, she's seen it before - Every ounce of emerald disappearing only to be replaced by a darkness that'd even outshine a black hole. Typically, she'd seen it when one of her plants was destroyed or when she learned about a CEO supporting fracking.
But this? This was different. Of course, had Harley paid attention to the prior times she'd come to Pamela in her time of need, she would've seen that same expression.
How are you going to fix this, Harley?
Harley isn't sure. She knew she'd taken advantage of Pam's hospitality again, a kindness rare to those on the outside. The blonde told herself this time around would be different than the last. She wouldn't cry in front of her nor would she mention his name, not wanting to rile up the metahuman. Pam hadn't even scolded her yet and Harley wasn't sure what was more terrifying, listening to her rant or the unbearable silence regarding the situation.
She's not going to keep helping you.
'Red's my friend, she'll always be around.'
You and I both know that isn't true.
'Okay, you can shut up now!'
Blue eyes dipped down, watching as her pale fingers reach up to gingerly touch the bandage along her stomach. Ivy was no medical doctor but damn, her handy work sure was impressive! If she's careful enough, she's sure the cuts would leave only a faint scar. Not that it mattered… her body was practically littered with them.
Right, she needed to get dressed.
It took a while, but the blonde managed to dress in the oversized shorts and t-shirt that displayed 'You're unbeleafable!'. Another gift from her, of course. And a damn good one!
A few minutes passed before the door opened and thank fuck, if Harley had to count the leaves on the pothos that resided on the nightstand again, she truly would lose her mind.
You're already insane.
'Thought I told you to shut the hell up!' She thought, eyes slamming shut as she pushed that annoying, clinical voice further back.
Harley, you can't jus-
"Harls?"
"Huh?" The blonde's head snapped up, blinking owlishly… finally meeting green.
"I asked how you were feeling."
"'M fine," It's a lie, of course. On a scale of one to ten, Harley couldn't even register a number to match the pain. She wouldn't let that be known though; Ivy had already been through too much tonight. The last thing she wanted to do was crumble down and show just how broken she was.
Harley had to be strong. She couldn't keep putting Pam through this.
…
Ivy wanted to scream. To leave her hideaway, find that godawful man, rip his spine out and shove it down his throat.
Harley would never forgive her though. Not as long as she was wrapped around his scrawny, gnarled finger.
She paced around the kitchen, the kettle once forgotten now slowly coming to a hiss. Immediately, she turned it off before plopping two green teas in their respective mugs. It'll go untouched, she knows this, but figured Harley would appreciate the small gesture.
Gaia knows the only hospitality that woman received is when she'd been in the safety of Ivy's presence.
Why?
Why him?
No, she couldn't let herself get stuck on that again. Ivy knew the answer and no matter how many times she tries to help Harley, she knew it would be pointless. The blonde needed to come to the realization herself.
It was the only way.
Her steps were well-measured, ensuring Harley had plenty of time to change. Pamela had seen the blush on her cheeks earlier, as she cut her costume away, but didn't dare to speak a word. How could she? She'd been too focused on not agitating Harley's wounds…that, and from stopping her warmth from tainting emerald cheeks in front of the half-naked woman.
She maneuvered into the room, gracefully juggling the two mugs, and thankfully, Harley was dressed and settled underneath the comforter.
"How are you feeling?"
Pamela waited but a response never came. The look on the blonde's face alerted her that she'd been lost in thought again. Harleen was speaking to her and in moments like this, Pam knew to tread carefully.
"Harls," Pamela whispered.
"Huh?"
"I asked how you were feeling," She repeated, a soft breath falling from her lips. Ivy figured the conversation hadn't gone on for too long with how quickly the blonde bounced back.
"'M fine."
It was a lie. Harley looked like shit and they both knew it.
The redhead stared at her for a moment longer before closing the space between them and gently placing each mug down along the nightstand.
"Harley," She sighed and sat next to the blonde, wondering if it was even worth bringing up the obvious. Time and time again, as Harley would come to her beaten and bruised, Ivy would scold her like a child.
At this point Ivy became a broken record, and what was the point if her words fell on deaf ears? Still, she could continue to try.
"Harley," The redhead repeated, soft hand reaching up to gently lift her chin. When had she looked away? Ivy isn't sure but she figured it happened when she set their tea down. Ivy took the time to study her face, green eyes flickering from the bruise surrounding her eye up to her split brow. "Y-You…I don't–"
"'M sorry," The blonde interrupted, "For bleeding on your steps and the door."
Ivy parts her lips though no words come out. Here Harley was, continuing to put on a strong facade — apologizing for something so ridiculous. Perhaps this was her way of trying to avoid the needed conversation.
She shook her head, crimson tresses spilling over her shoulder as she gently trailed her thumb along Harley's bottom lip. A simple gesture, one that helped soothe them both.
Idiot.
"Y'kno, Red," Harley mused and pressed a kiss to the pad of her thumb, attempting to ease the tension that filled the air. "Your bed is awfully comfy."
"Mm, is that so?" Ivy returned, cocking a brow.
"Yep," She said, popping the 'P' for emphasis. "C'mon 'n join me."
And so, she does.
It took a few minutes for Pam to change out of her blood-stained clothes and into something more suitable for sleep. That, and she had to wait for the blush within her cheeks to disappear - the warmth spreading thanks to Harley's whistles and rather cheeky comments.
"What a show," Harley breathed, blues fixed as Ivy sauntered to the bed. The mattress dipped with the additional weight, a giggle falling from her lips as she reached over, placing her pale hand on top of the others. Nothing. Absolutely nothing would stop her from touching the green woman next to her.
"You're ridiculous," Pam groaned.
"Mm, dunno 'bout that."
"You proudly walk the streets of Gotham in a jester outfit."
"I–, w-well…" Harley huffed. "Okay, Red. Ya got me there…"
Another silence settled over them. This time around though, it wasn't awkward. For a moment, Ivy thought Harley may have either fallen asleep or stuck in another argument with her inner voice. It proved to be the latter, Ivy hearing the hushed groans filling the blonde's throat, feet lodging themselves further into the sheets and comforter. She'd even caught her rolling her eyes but didn't dare to speak on it. In an attempt to reel her back in, Ivy gave her hand a light squeeze.
"Hey Red," Harley finally spoke up, tone laced with grogginess. Ivy knew she needed to sleep, the question was, when would Harley give in?
"Yes, Harls?"
"I really am sorry…"
"You don't have to keep apologizing," Pam reassured, figuring Harleen was the reason behind it all. At least she knew Harleen was well-aware of the situation and grateful that she wasn't alone in trying to knock some sense into the blonde.
"But-"
"Harley, it's okay," Ivy turned and offered a soft smile, one she'd hoped would put the blonde's busy mind to ease. She watched the blonde pout, holding her gaze till Harley finally allowed her lids to close.
At least, Ivy thought that would be the end.
"Twenty-two" she whispered.
Ivy furrowed her brows, gaze still locked onto the blonde. Was she talking in her sleep? It wouldn't be the first time but just to be sure…
"Twenty-two?"
"The lil guy on the nightstand," she mumbled, eyes still closed as she briefly pointed behind her. "He's got twenty-two leaves…and he's a fucking perv."
Green hues followed to where she'd pointed - settling on one of the numerous plants within the room alone.
"How is my Epipremnum aureum a pervert?" Ivy asked and rolled onto her back, doing her best to stifle a giggle.
"C'mon Pammy," The tone of Harley's voice sounded annoyed, or along those lines. "Y'er part plant. Don't tell me ya didn't hear him while undressing. The lil guy was practically droolin' at ya 'n don't get me started on how he was wigglin' when I was changin'…"
Okay, Pam couldn't help but laugh at that.
"I only recall hearing you," she mused, giving her pale hand a firm squeeze.
Ivy didn't need to look at her to know there'd be a deep blush on those pretty pale cheeks. The thought alone brought a smirk to her lips.
"Night, Pammy," Harley whispered, after a long moment.
"Goodnight, peanut."
…
The early morning sunlight leaked through the window, soft warm beams touching along the mattress, pillow, and the emerald woman on top of it. It helped pull her from her sleep, her body beginning to energize itself. Pamela hummed, taking in and releasing a slow, deep breath. It was early, she could tell, and she knew the blonde would still be asleep.
Perhaps she should make her breakfast, though it'd been a long time since Harley had graced her with her presence. She's sure everything in her fridge is either spoiled or thrown away. Surely, it wouldn't matter to Harley as Pam is sure the blonde hasn't eaten a proper meal in ages.
There's a different presence though. The weight of the mattress was lighter and there hadn't been an ice-cold foot jammed into her thigh. She could feel herself beginning to panic, that same crease spreading along her forehead as she reached over in an attempt to touch soft skin. She hoped that she'd be met with a groan or even wet moisture that'd dribble out of the side of Harley's mouth as it often did when she was in a deep sleep. Anything to reassure her.
Instead, emerald fingertips are met with crumpled sheets.
"H-harley?" she called out, patiently waiting for a response.
No answer.
Reluctantly, Pamela opens her eyes, and it was then the emotion began to build. Don't cry. Don't fucking cry. Had Harley abandoned her again!? Foolishly run back to the Joker in hopes that he'd learned his lesson, that he'd been sorry for hurting her again?
Her thoughts are confirmed when the flora on the nightstand tells her the blonde slipped out in the wee hours of the morning. Why? She wanted to ask as if the plant held all the answers. Turning on her side, Pamela curled up, knees pressed against her breasts while she tried to fend back the tears threatening to spill.
When would she realize? When would she finally learn that he didn't want her? That he'd only continue to manipulate and abuse her?! Harley was safe here, is safe here with her! Pamela could protect her, free her from any doubts, and show her how loved she is.
Harley had to know that. She just had to.
…
Red,
I wanted to wait till you were awake to say bye, but you looked too damn cute sleeping. Honestly, only you could continue looking like Gaia herself while dreaming.
Insane!
S'pose I should thank you for patching me up…again. You're always treating me so well, Ive. Honestly, I don't know what I would do without you!
Mistah J is executing a BIG heist today. Said he needed me to slip past the security systems. I would've stayed with you, but I can't let him down! Not again… Gonna try to make myself useful, even if I'm still recovering.
Xoxo
Harls
PS - 'M pretty sureee the lil guy touched my boob this mornin'. I mean, I woke up and there was a leaf there, his leaf - 'M assuming it was a hand. 'M tellin' ya he was puttin' the moves on me! Really laid it on thick, perv.
It'd taken nearly all day before she opened the letter left behind. There'd been no point in reading it, Pam knew what its contents held. She'd spent all morning holding herself, crying, grinding her teeth until she saw the envelope lying on the pillow Harley had been sleeping on.
Fucking typical…
Pamela sat on the stool in front of her workbench, her green eyes reading the letter over and over again. She wanted to scream, tear it to shreds, and go hunt the blonde down herself. How dare she!
Pamela Isley, POISON IVY, was better than this. She deserved better than this! No one would dare put her through hell like this!
And yet, Harley continued to do so.
'Perhaps it's me. Maybe I do deserve this.'
Those threatening tears began to build once more. And then, after a deep breath and a long moment, the tears were gone. No longer did they brim nor did her lower lip wobble as it'd done so many times that morning. She took the letter in hand, those bright emerald hues now darkened as she crumpled the paper and tossed it into the recycle bin nearby.
'I'm not the problem, I never was.'
Closing an eye, Ivy leaned in towards the microscope on the table. Who knows when Harley would come around again? A week? A month? No matter, Ivy would be ready for her.
'It's her. It was always her.'
"If she sets a foot in this park again, kill her," she spoke with a venomous tone, the plants within the greenhouse shifting in return.
This was the last time.
No longer would Ivy participate in that dance again.
