Barbara paced around in a circle. After almost an entire minute, she came
to a stop in front of Helena's bed. "I say we put her under." She looked
across at Reese and Alfred who were both watching her with entirely too
much intensity.
Reese shook his head. "She needs to be able to fight. This is her fight."
"No, it's mine," Barbara insisted.
"No offense, Barbara, I know you have history with this maniac and I know he's hurt you badly but I think this is all about her family. Her father. Her mother. Her. He won't stop until he is stopped," Reese replied.
"She could die, Reese." She looked desperately to Alfred. "Tell him."
The old butler was quiet for several seconds. Then finally he said softly," I believe that she should have the right to fight for herself."
"Alfred, I can't lose her."
"You must trust in her."
"She's hurt," Barbara insisted. "He's hurt her. If we let her fight, if we don't put her in a coma, he could kill her. This could kill her. She might not ever have a chance to fight back."
"But that's my choice," Helena murmured from behind them. Groggily she pushed herself up so that she was leaning against the pillows instead of lying flat. "And I am going to fight him."
"Helena," Reese said, crossing the room quickly. He sat down next to her and placed a hand on her forehead. "Are you okay?"
She frowned at him. Lifting her hand up to catch his, she squeezed his palm and then pushed him away. "Fine. I am fine. And he is never hurting me again."
"The dream?" Barbara asked. "What happened?"
Helena looked up at her with naked blue eyes. There was so much pain in there but there was also something new and raw. It looked like hatred.
"He tried to rape me," Helena said simply. "He didn't succeed."
Barbara shook. Her entire body convulsed violently and she reached out to grab the side of her chair just for balance. She felt her throat constrict harshly and her stomach rolled. She tried to open her mouth to speak but nothing came out but a choked gasp.
"Baby," Reese murmured, eyes wide. He shook his head, desperately trying to understand but failing on all counts. It just wasn't something that a man like Jesse Reese could ever even begin to comprehend.
She patted his hand. "It was just a dream, Reese."
He looked over at Barbara who was still gaping like a cut fish. She looked like she had just watched someone be eviscerated in front of her. She was horrified.
"Yes," Reese started, knowing that he should say something else but finding that his words were failing him.
After all, what exactly was there to say to someone who had almost been dream raped by a maniac?
"I'm okay," she insisted. "I'm just done. I'm just done with it. No more lying down and no more playing games. We end this." She pushed herself out of the bed. She wobbled but held her ground. Her legs were still unsteady and she still wasn't ready to go into battle but the coldness in her eyes plainly said that she didn't really care about her limitations; she'd find another way.
"Miss Helena perhaps you should stay down," Alfred said, voice soft. The same terror was in his eyes. Oh God how this must have been déjà vu for him. He'd watched the Joker try several times before to destroy Bruce Wayne.
Now it looked like the green haired freak might even be succeeding with Bruce's daughter.
"No," Helena said. "Barbara, we need to find out who this meta is whose helping the Joker out. I want him the fuck out of my brain."
Barbara nodded slowly but it was clear that she still hadn't come to terms with Helena's rather unemotional admission about what had occurred in her dream world. Idly Reese wondered what bothered Oracle more; that Helena had almost been sexually assaulted there or that she seemed nonplussed by it. He figured it was probably a little of both and something that seemed more personal but he couldn't quite get a handle on whatever that was.
"Uh, Troy, that is Dr. Kasper sent me an updated list of known metahumans. Hopefully our guy is on there," Barbara finally managed, her voice a bit heavy. She sounded strange, kind of like she was talking through a mouthful of marbles.
"Good," Helena said. "Reese, he has something else planned. He has some kind of fail-safe. I'm not sure what it is there but he's too confident not to have one. Pick up Quinzell. I think it's high time my bitch psych and I have a little discussion."
"I assume I don't need to remind you about the illegality of false imprisonment. I mean we don't officially have a warrant for her," Reese informed her.
Helena turned her head slightly so that Reese could see the coldness of her blue eyes. The only emotion he could see was rigid anger. And if looks could kill he'd have been dead the moment their eyes met. "You're right Jesse, you don't have to remind me. And when I'm done, I wouldn't worry about Harley bitching about her civil rights."
He opened his mouth to say something to her although he wasn't sure what. Anything. This coldness in her scared the hell out of him. Usually she was a woman on the edge of her emotions but there was always something dancing. Something beautiful and exciting. This was different. This was ugly and dark.
Not that he blamed her. More than a small part of him wanted to march right down to the prison himself. The visual he had in his head wasn't pretty. His dad would have been proud.
No, scratch that, Al Hawke would have been fucking ecstatic if he knew that his only son was having mental images of torturing and brutalizing another human being.
If the Joker could ever be called that which was something of a stretch.
"Okay," Reese said, finally relenting. "You don't go far though. You're in no condition to be out and about."
"I know that," she reminded him. "Not quite ready for the ten kilometer am I. I'll be waiting for you to return."
"Okay," he said. He turned to Barbara. "I assume you want her blindfolded?"
"I wouldn't worry about that," Helena drawled. "She won't be capable of finding her way back when I'm done."
"Helena," Barbara warned, her voice low. Then she looked at Reese who had the strangest look on his face. It looked like fear. He was horrified by how everything was unfolding. Horrified and scared out of his mind. She could relate. "Yes. Blindfold her. And cuff her."
"Will do," he murmured. He shot a look back at Helena and then quickly moved away.
"He's scared of me now," Helena noted, her eyes tracking Reese all the way to the elevator. "He thinks I'm different and he doesn't like it."
"He's worried about you," Barbara corrected. "We all are." She wheeled over to Helena and placed a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "You're not okay. Don't even pretend you are. You couldn't be."
Helena shifted her eyes so as to meet Barbara. She saw the same thing Reese had and involuntarily she shivered. "I am. He won't ever hurt me again. Even if he lives." Then she smiled but somehow it was an ugly expression. "Besides Barbara, it's just sex anyways."
Barbara Gordon nearly seized. Her brain whirled like the diseased hard drive of a computer for several seconds as she tried to process what Helena had just said to her. She shook her head urgently. "No, no, no."
Helena didn't relent. Her eyes didn't soften and her posture remained as easy as it had been before. She seemed calm and unflustered but Barbara could still see the visible signs of recently shed tears on Helena's cheeks. "It's okay, relax. I'm okay. It was just a nightmare. I've had bad nightmares before. I'm okay."
Barbara looked desperately at Alfred. He just shrugged, his body language showing that he matched her frustration. The words were simply impossible to come by.
"Helena, please. It's not just sex," Barbara insisted, wheeling herself to the younger woman's' side.
"You're right," Helena said nodding. "Because it never happened. It's not anymore real than his fake little world that he set up for me. It doesn't mean anything. Besides, he didn't win anyways. You got me out of there first."
Barbara swallowed hard, hating herself for having to push the subject. "Do you remember how it felt? What it felt like? What you were thinking when you thought he was going to do it and you weren't going to be able to stop him?"
Helena turned to face her and a look of rage passed through her. Her eyes narrowed into impossibly cold slits as she regarded her mentor with nothing but sheer hatred. For a few moments she was little more than the embodiment of fury.
"No," Helena finally spat out, eyes still snapping blue fire. "I felt nothing. I feel nothing. I just want this over."
And with that she turned and walked stiffly out of the lab. Her gait was awkward and unsteady but her pain and anger kept her upright. Somehow it was even so severe that it was fighting off the dehabilitating effects of the drug in her system; she was still conscious. Or maybe she really was so emotionally cold that even her neural pathways didn't know what to make of what was going on.
"Alfred," Barbara started. "Please tell me that this is all a horrible nightmare. Tell me he didn't...tell me he didn't...what he almost did..."
The old butler paused for a long moment, lost in his thoughts. He finally said simply, "If I could, I would. But we both know how much of her life Miss Helena already lives in her mind and so for her I fear that it was very real indeed."
"I knew you were going to say that," Barbara replied as she slumped back into her chair. "Now what?"
"Focus on the now. Remove the immediate threat and then worry about her mental wellbeing after the fact," Alfred suggested. "I don't see as we have any other option."
"No," the beautiful redhead who called herself Oracle murmured. "No I imagine not." She reached back to a stack of printouts that was neatly organized and settled in the printer tray. "You take the top half and I'll take the bottom. I sent part of it to Tim to go through. There's just too damn many."
"These are?"
"The lists of metas that Troy from S.T.A.R. sent over. We're looking for one with the ability to communicate telepathically."
Alfred nodded. He took the first half of the stack and then settled into a chair next to the formerly occupied desk. Barbara took the other pile, sighed deeply and then began to sift through them.
It was going to be a long night.
She stared up into the bathroom room and glared back at the pale woman looking out at her. The girl on the other side looked frightened and weak. That wouldn't do. Lifting her left hand up to her cheek, she began to scratch at the scar of the letter J that was there. She tore at it with her nails until the flesh finally gave way and blood began to flow down and across her skin.
She didn't stop there.
She continued ripping away at her skin, needing the scar to be gone, willing to have anything else there in its place.
Including bone.
She refused to be marked by him.
Not by him.
"Helena," he said, his voice booming in her ears.
She spun around, eyes wide and near to crazed.
"You're not real," she hissed, still turning in a circle. She saw a flash of color and spun towards it.
He was standing in the mirror; hands on both shoulders of the pale girl that looked so much like her. Only she was naked now.
Naked and trembling.
So fucking weak.
"I'm real," he promised her. Then he lifted up his hand and she saw that he was holding a pistol in his white-gloved palm. She remembered the gun; he had put it in her mouth when he had first captured her. He had fired it and she had tasted what she could only guess was spoiled milk.
"I'm not scared of you," Helena threw at him. "She is. I'm not. Never again."
He laughed at her. His eyes danced. He knew she was lying. He could see her pain. "She is you," he grinned, nearly delirious in his delight. He waved the gun at her. "Soon."
"Soon what?" she growled. "Soon you'll be checking into hell?"
He just laughed and repeated his warning. "Soon."
And with that he was gone.
The girl in the mirror however remained. Only she was dressed again but she was trembling like a small child. Blood streaked down her face and mixed with tears.
Tears she couldn't remember crying.
Helena fell to the ground.
She felt her butt thud hard against the tile and her legs screamed in agony beneath her. She knew that they were far from healed but she found that she didn't really give a damn.
If he won, it didn't really matter which parts of her were working and which were not.
In the end, it would all be the same.
Into the dirt and six feet deep.
She wanted to cry, wanted to weep. She wanted to let it all go. To pretend that what he had tried to do to her wasn't tearing a hole in her a mile large was just a joke. And he was the one telling it.
"No," she growled, anger setting her jaw again. She knew that she should let the pain flow through her, let it out.
But that would make her the girl in the mirror.
And she could never be that.
God never.
Standing up with all of the strength she still had left in her, she walked back over to the mirror. "I'm in control, not you. Me. Not you." She jabbed at the frightened girl who looked like a child. She saw her jab back only she didn't look so threatening. She looked like she was pretending.
"Helena?"
Her head snapped around and she looked sharply at the bathroom door. The voice was coming from the other side. After a long moment of confusion, she realized whom it belonged to.
Reese. Jesse Reese.
"In a moment," she said gruffly. "I'll be out in a moment."
"Okay," he said. He was much closer now. Probably even on the other side of the mirror. "Are you alright?"
"Fine," she replied. "Just...I'll be out in a sec."
"Sure."
She heard his footfalls as he moved away and for a moment she wanted to scream at him. She wanted to tell him to stay, wanted to beg him to hold her. Wanted to plead for him to take the memories away. To make it all just disappear into the night. But that wasn't something that Huntress could do.
No only the girl in the mirror would do that. Helena Kyle. Not Huntress.
She looked back towards the mirror and saw that blood was starting to drip down the girls' face. "What did you do to yourself?"
She opened the medicine cabinet and withdrew the first aid kit that was always kept in there. It was a simple one with basic supplies but it would do fine. The wound looked bad but a few strips of gauze would likely clean it up nicely.
"Everything will be fine," Helena assured the girl in the mirror. "So stop your whining and cowboy up."
She saw the girl firm up her lip and tighten her body, like she was channeling her resolve. The look there said she'd damn well try to get strong. To fight. It was the least she could do.
Huntress. Not Helena.
"Well done," she commented. "Well done."
"Anything?" Dinah asked, glancing over at Tim Drake. He was sitting in one of the chairs, looking thoroughly frustrated. His fingers were dancing over the keyboard of one of the computers. He had been at it for almost two hours already, stopping only occasionally to take a sip out of the Mountain Dew can that was settled next to his left hand.
"Not so far. But this is only a third of the file. Barbara and Alfred have the rest. I'm seeing a lot of metas that have mental powers but none that would...wait...wait a minute..."
"Tim?" Dinah asked, a sense of urgency in her voice. She stood up and walked around to his side of the table. She leaned over his shoulder to look at what he was seeing. "Who's that?" she asked, pointing at the picture of a half-bald man. The guy had strange eyes. One blue and one green. The green one looked like it was fake but it was hard to tell. Even the photo made the man look nuts.
"Jared Kelly AKA Mindtrip. File says he used be a Covert Ops agent for the CIA. When he was in his mid twenties anyways. He got in trouble when he started trying to psychically coerce agents into murdering other agents and so on. Sounds like he was trying to start his own little war. The government thinks he was trying to hijack Project Third Eye."
"Project Third Eye?"
"Oh it was some test thing they were doing a few years back to see if certain individuals with proven psychic ability could search out and apprehend individuals about to commit a crime. You know the ultimate in Big Brother. It was taken apart after they realized how easy it would have been to tamper with. Kelly's file says he was believed to be intentionally driving the telepaths in the test insane. All sorts of violent images. Two of them committed suicide before they realized that the project had been hijacked. It was closed down not long after."
"Yikes."
"Yeah, yikes in a big way."
"How do we know this is our guy?"
"Well, for one he used to be housed in the exact cell where the Joker is now. For two his shrink is Dr. Quinzell and for three, he's been in a coma ever since the Joker arrived at Arkham."
"I don't get it. If he's our guy then how?"
"Don't know exactly but somehow they're using him to get in. Hell he probably doesn't even know what he's doing."
"So if we disconnect him, then they lose their connection to Helena?"
"Works in theory," Tim said nodding. "But before we go jerking people's life support system, I'd like to know the hows and the whys."
"Are they all that important?"
"Sure they are. If we're gonna keep the Joker from hurting Helena again, then we need to make for damn sure that he can't do it and the only way we can is by knowing how he did in the first place. I mean, somehow or another, this Mindtrip guy is creating enough of a psychic gateway for the Joker to be able to climb through at will."
"Way over my head, Tim."
"Pretty much over mine too babe," Tim admitted. "Which is why it's time to turn this over to the great and all knowing Oracle."
"So is this our guy then?"
Tim thought for a long moment. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. Finally he said, "Yeah. This is our feller."
"Okay, I'll call Barbara again."
"What did you do to yourself?" Barbara demanded, wheeling over towards where Helena was leaning against the wall. The younger woman was barely standing on her own, allowing the smooth hard surface to keep her upright.
"Nothing. Accidentally cut myself," Helena murmured, her fingers reaching up to graze the gauze bandage on her cheek.
"You're bleeding," Barbara insisted, grabbing Helena's wrist. She turned it sharply inwards so as to keep the girl from pushing her away. "What did you do to yourself?"
"Nevermind. Is Quinzell here?"
"Yeah," Reese said from the doorway. "I have her tied up in the kitchen. Are you sure you can do this. I'm not gonna let you kill her."
"How much faith you have in me, Detective," Helena muttered, shaking her head. "Besides, she's not the one I want to kill. Just maim a little."
"Helena," Barbara said, still holding her wrist. "I don't think is a good idea."
"Miss Barbara?" Alfred said, entering the room. "Miss Dinah and Master Tim are on the phone. They have news."
Barbara looked at Alfred for a moment and then back at Helena. She looked like she wanted to say something but the words wouldn't come. Finally she dropped Helena's wrist. "Reese, go with her."
"I planned on it," he assured her.
"Good. I'll be there in a moment."
"We won't be waiting," Helena replied. She was smiling but it wasn't a jovial one. There was anger dancing wickedly in her eyes. She was more dangerous than Reese had ever seen her.
And that was saying a hell of a lot.
"You ready for this?" he asked, positive that he wasn't.
"You betcha," she said. "Let's dance."
"Good work guys," Barbara commented, eyes locked on the computer screen in front of her. She had the police file of the villain known as Mindtrip up on the screen. He'd had quite an interesting criminal career until agents from the very same program that he'd been hacking had finally stopped him. "How are you holding up Dinah?"
"I'm fine," the blonde came back. "I don't like being out of the battle."
"There's no battle...at least not quite yet," Barbara assured her. "And besides, your role is just as important. Even if we stop Mindtrip, she still has that drug in her system."
"Is she doing okay?" Dinah asked.
Barbara paused for a moment, wondering if she should tell Dinah the truth. Finally, reluctantly, she did. "No. No, she's not."
"What do you mean?" Dinah demanded, clearly agitated. "I should be there helping you guys out."
"There's nothing you can do here, Dinah. Trust me, we need you there."
"Are we short on time Babs?" Tim asked, concern peppering his tone.
"I think so. Look, we have it covered from this side. Reese and I will head over and try to figure out what to do about Mindtrip. Keep the pressure on Troy...I mean Dr. Kasper. We need that antidote."
"No worries," Tim assured her. "And Barb, when this is over, you're going to have to tell me how you and Dr. Kasper know each other so well. Tell me I don't have to tattle on you to Dick."
Barbara snorted loudly. "Later on that okay?" She shook her head. "Good luck guys."
The blonde woman looked up at her former patient and snarled. Then as if she had reminded herself of whom she was supposed to be to Helena Kyle, she changed her expression so that she was instead offering the brunette a strange twisted smile. "Helena," she cooed. "What brings me to you?"
Helena took a step closer to the woman who called herself Doctor Harleen Quinzell. "I know who you are you psycho bitch," she hissed at her. "I know what you've done to me."
Harley clapped her palms together. Her hands were cuffed in front of her but she still had some movement available to her. "Well bravo then. Frankly I think it took you entirely too long anyways. I mean come on Helena, how hard is it? It's not exactly like my real name is all that different."
"Yeah well, mistakes happen. I can promise you that it won't happen again."
"Why?" Harley said, licking her lips almost in anticipation. "Are you going to kill me?" Then she sighed dramatically. "No, you're one of the boring good guys. And worse, you were trained by the great Barbara Gordon. That's too bad really, watching you kill would have been delicious."
"Even if I was killing you?" Helena asked, sarcasm dripping from her words. Her eyes were cold and angry but there was something in her posture that seemed to be enjoying the power she was holding over Harley. Or at least that power that she perceived she had.
"All that much better to know that it would be my death that would be your rebirth," Harley said with a smirk.
"Enough of this," Reese growled as he moved between the two women. He could see that Helena was exerting an unnatural amount of energy in order to keep herself standing up straight. He could also see that her legs were starting to tremble. Strong as she was getting, her limbs were still very weak and unable to endure massive amounts of strain. She was still healing.
"Ooh, is this the police officer that you keep mentioning? He is handsome I must admit," Harley drawled, eyes locked on Helena's. It was a game and they both thought that they were winning it.
"What did you do to me?" Helena snapped.
"Oh I mind-fucked you baby," Harley said with a large smile. "Which I must say was a lot easier than one would think. Though you did give me a run for my money in figuring out that you were the one screwing up all of my plans."
"Oh so sorry about that," Helena muttered. "What did you do to my head?"
"I thought you said you had it all figured out?" Harley asked, mock disappointment in her eyes.
"Answer the question," Helena growled.
Harley bit her lip as if she was trying to think of her response. Several seconds passed before she finally laughed. "Um, no. I don't think so. I think I like you guessing." She grinned. "It turns me on."
Helena narrowed her eyes dangerously. Her eyes glowed for a moment as the rage slid through her blood. She took another step closer to Harley, intentionally moving into her former psychiatrists' personal space. To her surprise the blonde clapped her hands again. "Bitch," she snarled.
"Is this when you threaten me? Promise to hurt me?" Then she lowered her voice. "Or are you going to kiss me?"
Helena reached out and hit her.
Harley slammed backwards in the chair, her face jerking hard to the left as Helena's fist collided with her jawbone. Amazingly, as the woman fell, she was still laughing. The chair cracked against the ground and Harley fell from it, spinning onto her side. The fall didn't seem to stop her mirth.
Hell she was giggling like a damn fool.
Reese reached out his hand to catch Helena but she pushed him away with as much strength as she could muster. She was atop Harley within seconds, her fists flying into the older woman's face. A spray of blood flew upwards, peppering Helena's cheeks.
Harley continued to laugh.
"Helena!" Reese called out, grabbing at her arms. "Huntress!"
"Reese?" Barbara called out as she slid into the room, followed closely by Alfred. She spotted Helena a moment later. "Damn it. Helena, stop it!"
If Helena heard either of them, she didn't show any sign.
Reese moved around to the back of her and lifted her up in the air, her arms still flailing and her legs kicking out. He could see tears on her cheeks as well as blood speckled across her skin. He could see that her eyes while no longer hard cats eyes were icy cold blue. And large as hell.
"Oh don't stop her now, she's just starting," Harley laughed as she pushed herself into the sitting position. Her face was cut and bloody but she was wearing a large smile. There was a purplish mark forming on the side of her jaw and her blonde hair was jutting every which way.
Helena tried to lunge at her again. "I'm going to fucking kill you."
"Doesn't look like it," Harley taunted. Then she looked at Barbara. "Oh the great Barbara Gordon has come to clean up after her messy puppy. Do you know how nauseatingly much I've heard about you? And you're so boring."
It crossed Barbara's mind to beat the living shit out of Harley herself.
Instead she wheeled herself over to where Harley was and bent down towards her. "Laugh it up," she said coolly. "Your life is over. You're going to spend the rest of it in a little cell amusing only your self."
"That's what you think," Harley sang. She looked Barbara straight in the eye and laughed. "You have no idea how little control you have Barbara Gordon. It's all so fleeting."
"Barbara," Reese said from behind her.
She turned slowly, reluctant to put her back to Harley. "What?" she asked tiredly.
"She's out," Reese said, indicating the unconscious woman in his arms. She was lying against him in an awkward manner. He ran his fingers through her hair and adjusted her so that he was cradling her. He used his thumb to wipe away a smear of blood on her cheek.
"Oh that's too bad," Harley giggled. "Looks like it was all too much for her. Poor baby. I guess she's not as strong as she thought she was."
Barbara glanced back at the woman. "Alfred would you do me a favor?"
"Of course," he said, his voice low. He was glaring at Harley, looking quite like he wanted to dropkick the woman himself.
Now that was a visual worth savoring.
"Would you make sure Dr. Quinzell is properly secured? We won't be needing her for a bit but when we do, I want to make sure she's right where we left her."
"Absolutely," Alfred replied quickly. He turned a hard gaze on Harley who just stared back at him passively. She seemed disinterested in him but he knew better. It was all still just a game.
"Good. Reese, carry her to the lab."
He nodded. He curled Helena against his chest and then turned to follow Barbara out of the lab.
Harley smiled up at Alfred as he approached. "You know it's already too late don't you?"
He moved around to the back of her. Noticing that she was bound with a simple pair of cuffs, he began to wrap a rope around her waist and the chair. "For your sake madam, I should hope not."
"For my sake butler baby, it's already too late," Harley snorted. "But Mr. J has it all under control."
"That's it, I'm done with this. I'm putting her under," Barbara hissed as they entered the lab. "If we don't do it, she will die."
"She could die if you put her under," Reese protested.
"She's incapable of not getting emotional or angry and the Joker knows that. It's why he did what he did to her in her dream. Why he..." she stopped suddenly, unable to say the actual word for the madman had tried to do to her young charge. Closing her eyes she muttered, "He's pulling all the strings. I just don't see as we have a choice."
"It's not that I'm disagreeing," Reese said dully. "But how do you know that even a coma will keep him out of her head? How do you know that we're not just trapping her with him? If you put her under, there's no way for her to get away from him. He could finish what he started. And it'll be our fault."
Barbara stopped to consider his words. She was holding a syringe in her hands but could feel it wavering. What if he was right? There really was no way of knowing for certain. It was all just an educated guess to begin with. And the idea of helping the Joker to assault Helena...
"I don't," she finally admitted, her voice unsteady. "But do you have a better idea? Because if you do, Jesse, I'm listening."
He shook his head, baffled by the sudden attitude she was throwing. He knew why she was upset but something still felt off about her reactions. He couldn't quite put his finger on it so he decided to let it pass. "This is all so crazy for me. I don't understand half of this. No, most of this. This world is so strange..."
"If you can't handle it..."
"It's a little too late for that don't you think? I'm in a bit too deep now. No, I'm not going anywhere. I'm just saying that your guess is as good as mine."
She offered him a soft smile and then fell back against her chair. "Reese, I don't know anything for sure. We could be just handing her over to him or we could be saving her life. I don't know. But what I do know is, she's getting worse by the hour. We don't have a lot of time."
She indicated towards one of the machines that was hooked up to Helena.
"Her heartbeat looks fast," Reese noted. "Too fast."
"That's just it," Barbara said softly. "Everything about her right now is too fast. Her entire body is in overdrive. If we don't stop it, she'll eventually just shut down. Even as strong as she is, she can't stop this drug. None of the other metahuman patients were been able to. All we can hope to do is slow it down in order to give Dr. Kasper time to find a cure."
"So you give me an hour," Reese said. "I'll take care of things from my side."
"What? I don't understand what you're getting at?"
"I heard you talking to Dinah earlier. She said you'd discovered who the guy is that's piping the Joker into Helena's dreams. If we can stop the uplink, her dreams won't be a threat to her, right?"
"In theory," Barbara said hesitantly. "But I haven't figured out a way to unhook Mindtrip. As long as he in that coma, the Joker can use him at will."
"You leave that to me," Reese said coldly. "If we take that guy out, we give her at least a fighting chance."
"I'm not sure I like where you're going with this," Barbara said, lifting an eyebrow. Her eyes drifted over to Helena who was whimpering on the bed. She could see that the younger woman looked like she was in the middle of a dream.
"Look at her," Reese instructed. "Now might be the time to put away the superhero handbook and for me to shelve the good boy routine. Now there are ways to save Helena but we may both have to step outside of the lines. And for me, that means using some of my fathers' sources to get this Mindtrip guy brought out of his coma."
Barbara swallowed hard. They really had been brought to desperate measures. Finally, thickly she replied, "Do what you have to do but do it quickly. I'm putting her under in exactly one hour. She's already dreaming right now, I don't see how it makes much difference."
"Wake her up," Reese told her. "Wake her up and keep her up until you hear from me."
Barbara nodded. She hated what this was doing to them all. She knew that Reese had spent most of his life rejecting his father's world. He had railed against it. Hell most of the reason that he had become a cop was to fight back against his fathers' sins.
Things were changing.
And now necessity was demanding that Jesse Reese finally accept the benefits of being Al Hawke's son.
Especially if that meant saving a woman he loved.
"Be quick," she told him. "One hour."
"Good enough," he said. He started towards the door and then stopped and turned back. "We all get ugly sometimes right?"
She paused a beat and then said softly, "Sometimes we all do."
They locked eyes, both seeming to understand what the other was getting at.
Both knowing the extremes they were now willing to go to in order to save Helena Kyle's life.
And both hating themselves for it.
But then, perhaps that was guilt for another day.
"You're like a little dog," he commented, his eyes wandering across her body. "I keep hitting you and you keep returning for more."
"I'm not exactly controlling the game." Helena snorted. "Or trust me, you wouldn't be my idea of a great dream."
He moved towards her, seeming to dance. "I'll always be part of your dreams." He touched her face and she yanked away. He laughed. "Don't pull away from me now. We can still be friends."
She growled at him, her eyes narrowing. "You're sitting in a little cell. You can't touch me. You can't hurt me."
He lifted the gun up and pointed it at her. This weapon was starting to become a reoccurring theme and frankly it was starting to scare her. He was holding it just like someone would a bomb trigger. Like it would do something horrible if he fired it.
But it was just a dream.
Just a damn dream.
"I'm in control," he cackled. "And you're dying."
"I'm alive," she hissed.
"Soon you'll be with her," the Joker giggled.
She felt air wisp past her face and realized that they were no longer in the strange dark room. Instead they were on the street in front of the movie theatre.
And she was watching her mother be murdered again.
"I've seen this all," Helena screamed. "You can't hurt me with this anymore."
"No?" he asked, seeming confused. Then he seemed to brighten. "Ah, yes of course."
The scenery changed again and they were standing in the middle of a cemetery. It was night but she could see men digging graves. Almost involuntarily she felt her feet moving towards one of the empty lots. She looked in and saw a casket at the bottom. She didn't dare ask whom it belonged to.
She needn't have bothered.
The lid of the casket opened and she saw a woman's hand slip out of it. A moment later she saw a face.
Barbara.
She locked eyes with the decayed doppelganger of her mentor. Her mind screamed at her that it wasn't real but she could feel her chest exploding with pain and heartache.
"You did this to me," the Barbara corpse screeched. "You're responsible."
The thing started to walk towards her, hands outstretched.
"No," Helena gasped, stepping backwards.
"And now I'll take you down with me," it continued. "To hell."
Helena tumbled back, her foot hitting against a rock. She felt herself falling before she realized that she was. When she looked up she realized that she was lying in another empty unfilled grave. There was no casket in this one.
"Barbara?" she said, gazing up at the corpse.
It leered at her and snarled. "Your turn," it said as it began to shovel dirt onto her.
"No!" Helena screamed, covering her eyes with her hands. "No please..."
"It's too late," it laughed at her, its voice suddenly morphing into that of the Jokers. "You're already damned for all time."
She felt dirt slap against her face and then everything went dark once more.
Dark and cold.
And the only thing she could hear was him cackling like a mad fool.
He was winning.
She was dying.
END CHAPTER 6:
Reese shook his head. "She needs to be able to fight. This is her fight."
"No, it's mine," Barbara insisted.
"No offense, Barbara, I know you have history with this maniac and I know he's hurt you badly but I think this is all about her family. Her father. Her mother. Her. He won't stop until he is stopped," Reese replied.
"She could die, Reese." She looked desperately to Alfred. "Tell him."
The old butler was quiet for several seconds. Then finally he said softly," I believe that she should have the right to fight for herself."
"Alfred, I can't lose her."
"You must trust in her."
"She's hurt," Barbara insisted. "He's hurt her. If we let her fight, if we don't put her in a coma, he could kill her. This could kill her. She might not ever have a chance to fight back."
"But that's my choice," Helena murmured from behind them. Groggily she pushed herself up so that she was leaning against the pillows instead of lying flat. "And I am going to fight him."
"Helena," Reese said, crossing the room quickly. He sat down next to her and placed a hand on her forehead. "Are you okay?"
She frowned at him. Lifting her hand up to catch his, she squeezed his palm and then pushed him away. "Fine. I am fine. And he is never hurting me again."
"The dream?" Barbara asked. "What happened?"
Helena looked up at her with naked blue eyes. There was so much pain in there but there was also something new and raw. It looked like hatred.
"He tried to rape me," Helena said simply. "He didn't succeed."
Barbara shook. Her entire body convulsed violently and she reached out to grab the side of her chair just for balance. She felt her throat constrict harshly and her stomach rolled. She tried to open her mouth to speak but nothing came out but a choked gasp.
"Baby," Reese murmured, eyes wide. He shook his head, desperately trying to understand but failing on all counts. It just wasn't something that a man like Jesse Reese could ever even begin to comprehend.
She patted his hand. "It was just a dream, Reese."
He looked over at Barbara who was still gaping like a cut fish. She looked like she had just watched someone be eviscerated in front of her. She was horrified.
"Yes," Reese started, knowing that he should say something else but finding that his words were failing him.
After all, what exactly was there to say to someone who had almost been dream raped by a maniac?
"I'm okay," she insisted. "I'm just done. I'm just done with it. No more lying down and no more playing games. We end this." She pushed herself out of the bed. She wobbled but held her ground. Her legs were still unsteady and she still wasn't ready to go into battle but the coldness in her eyes plainly said that she didn't really care about her limitations; she'd find another way.
"Miss Helena perhaps you should stay down," Alfred said, voice soft. The same terror was in his eyes. Oh God how this must have been déjà vu for him. He'd watched the Joker try several times before to destroy Bruce Wayne.
Now it looked like the green haired freak might even be succeeding with Bruce's daughter.
"No," Helena said. "Barbara, we need to find out who this meta is whose helping the Joker out. I want him the fuck out of my brain."
Barbara nodded slowly but it was clear that she still hadn't come to terms with Helena's rather unemotional admission about what had occurred in her dream world. Idly Reese wondered what bothered Oracle more; that Helena had almost been sexually assaulted there or that she seemed nonplussed by it. He figured it was probably a little of both and something that seemed more personal but he couldn't quite get a handle on whatever that was.
"Uh, Troy, that is Dr. Kasper sent me an updated list of known metahumans. Hopefully our guy is on there," Barbara finally managed, her voice a bit heavy. She sounded strange, kind of like she was talking through a mouthful of marbles.
"Good," Helena said. "Reese, he has something else planned. He has some kind of fail-safe. I'm not sure what it is there but he's too confident not to have one. Pick up Quinzell. I think it's high time my bitch psych and I have a little discussion."
"I assume I don't need to remind you about the illegality of false imprisonment. I mean we don't officially have a warrant for her," Reese informed her.
Helena turned her head slightly so that Reese could see the coldness of her blue eyes. The only emotion he could see was rigid anger. And if looks could kill he'd have been dead the moment their eyes met. "You're right Jesse, you don't have to remind me. And when I'm done, I wouldn't worry about Harley bitching about her civil rights."
He opened his mouth to say something to her although he wasn't sure what. Anything. This coldness in her scared the hell out of him. Usually she was a woman on the edge of her emotions but there was always something dancing. Something beautiful and exciting. This was different. This was ugly and dark.
Not that he blamed her. More than a small part of him wanted to march right down to the prison himself. The visual he had in his head wasn't pretty. His dad would have been proud.
No, scratch that, Al Hawke would have been fucking ecstatic if he knew that his only son was having mental images of torturing and brutalizing another human being.
If the Joker could ever be called that which was something of a stretch.
"Okay," Reese said, finally relenting. "You don't go far though. You're in no condition to be out and about."
"I know that," she reminded him. "Not quite ready for the ten kilometer am I. I'll be waiting for you to return."
"Okay," he said. He turned to Barbara. "I assume you want her blindfolded?"
"I wouldn't worry about that," Helena drawled. "She won't be capable of finding her way back when I'm done."
"Helena," Barbara warned, her voice low. Then she looked at Reese who had the strangest look on his face. It looked like fear. He was horrified by how everything was unfolding. Horrified and scared out of his mind. She could relate. "Yes. Blindfold her. And cuff her."
"Will do," he murmured. He shot a look back at Helena and then quickly moved away.
"He's scared of me now," Helena noted, her eyes tracking Reese all the way to the elevator. "He thinks I'm different and he doesn't like it."
"He's worried about you," Barbara corrected. "We all are." She wheeled over to Helena and placed a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "You're not okay. Don't even pretend you are. You couldn't be."
Helena shifted her eyes so as to meet Barbara. She saw the same thing Reese had and involuntarily she shivered. "I am. He won't ever hurt me again. Even if he lives." Then she smiled but somehow it was an ugly expression. "Besides Barbara, it's just sex anyways."
Barbara Gordon nearly seized. Her brain whirled like the diseased hard drive of a computer for several seconds as she tried to process what Helena had just said to her. She shook her head urgently. "No, no, no."
Helena didn't relent. Her eyes didn't soften and her posture remained as easy as it had been before. She seemed calm and unflustered but Barbara could still see the visible signs of recently shed tears on Helena's cheeks. "It's okay, relax. I'm okay. It was just a nightmare. I've had bad nightmares before. I'm okay."
Barbara looked desperately at Alfred. He just shrugged, his body language showing that he matched her frustration. The words were simply impossible to come by.
"Helena, please. It's not just sex," Barbara insisted, wheeling herself to the younger woman's' side.
"You're right," Helena said nodding. "Because it never happened. It's not anymore real than his fake little world that he set up for me. It doesn't mean anything. Besides, he didn't win anyways. You got me out of there first."
Barbara swallowed hard, hating herself for having to push the subject. "Do you remember how it felt? What it felt like? What you were thinking when you thought he was going to do it and you weren't going to be able to stop him?"
Helena turned to face her and a look of rage passed through her. Her eyes narrowed into impossibly cold slits as she regarded her mentor with nothing but sheer hatred. For a few moments she was little more than the embodiment of fury.
"No," Helena finally spat out, eyes still snapping blue fire. "I felt nothing. I feel nothing. I just want this over."
And with that she turned and walked stiffly out of the lab. Her gait was awkward and unsteady but her pain and anger kept her upright. Somehow it was even so severe that it was fighting off the dehabilitating effects of the drug in her system; she was still conscious. Or maybe she really was so emotionally cold that even her neural pathways didn't know what to make of what was going on.
"Alfred," Barbara started. "Please tell me that this is all a horrible nightmare. Tell me he didn't...tell me he didn't...what he almost did..."
The old butler paused for a long moment, lost in his thoughts. He finally said simply, "If I could, I would. But we both know how much of her life Miss Helena already lives in her mind and so for her I fear that it was very real indeed."
"I knew you were going to say that," Barbara replied as she slumped back into her chair. "Now what?"
"Focus on the now. Remove the immediate threat and then worry about her mental wellbeing after the fact," Alfred suggested. "I don't see as we have any other option."
"No," the beautiful redhead who called herself Oracle murmured. "No I imagine not." She reached back to a stack of printouts that was neatly organized and settled in the printer tray. "You take the top half and I'll take the bottom. I sent part of it to Tim to go through. There's just too damn many."
"These are?"
"The lists of metas that Troy from S.T.A.R. sent over. We're looking for one with the ability to communicate telepathically."
Alfred nodded. He took the first half of the stack and then settled into a chair next to the formerly occupied desk. Barbara took the other pile, sighed deeply and then began to sift through them.
It was going to be a long night.
She stared up into the bathroom room and glared back at the pale woman looking out at her. The girl on the other side looked frightened and weak. That wouldn't do. Lifting her left hand up to her cheek, she began to scratch at the scar of the letter J that was there. She tore at it with her nails until the flesh finally gave way and blood began to flow down and across her skin.
She didn't stop there.
She continued ripping away at her skin, needing the scar to be gone, willing to have anything else there in its place.
Including bone.
She refused to be marked by him.
Not by him.
"Helena," he said, his voice booming in her ears.
She spun around, eyes wide and near to crazed.
"You're not real," she hissed, still turning in a circle. She saw a flash of color and spun towards it.
He was standing in the mirror; hands on both shoulders of the pale girl that looked so much like her. Only she was naked now.
Naked and trembling.
So fucking weak.
"I'm real," he promised her. Then he lifted up his hand and she saw that he was holding a pistol in his white-gloved palm. She remembered the gun; he had put it in her mouth when he had first captured her. He had fired it and she had tasted what she could only guess was spoiled milk.
"I'm not scared of you," Helena threw at him. "She is. I'm not. Never again."
He laughed at her. His eyes danced. He knew she was lying. He could see her pain. "She is you," he grinned, nearly delirious in his delight. He waved the gun at her. "Soon."
"Soon what?" she growled. "Soon you'll be checking into hell?"
He just laughed and repeated his warning. "Soon."
And with that he was gone.
The girl in the mirror however remained. Only she was dressed again but she was trembling like a small child. Blood streaked down her face and mixed with tears.
Tears she couldn't remember crying.
Helena fell to the ground.
She felt her butt thud hard against the tile and her legs screamed in agony beneath her. She knew that they were far from healed but she found that she didn't really give a damn.
If he won, it didn't really matter which parts of her were working and which were not.
In the end, it would all be the same.
Into the dirt and six feet deep.
She wanted to cry, wanted to weep. She wanted to let it all go. To pretend that what he had tried to do to her wasn't tearing a hole in her a mile large was just a joke. And he was the one telling it.
"No," she growled, anger setting her jaw again. She knew that she should let the pain flow through her, let it out.
But that would make her the girl in the mirror.
And she could never be that.
God never.
Standing up with all of the strength she still had left in her, she walked back over to the mirror. "I'm in control, not you. Me. Not you." She jabbed at the frightened girl who looked like a child. She saw her jab back only she didn't look so threatening. She looked like she was pretending.
"Helena?"
Her head snapped around and she looked sharply at the bathroom door. The voice was coming from the other side. After a long moment of confusion, she realized whom it belonged to.
Reese. Jesse Reese.
"In a moment," she said gruffly. "I'll be out in a moment."
"Okay," he said. He was much closer now. Probably even on the other side of the mirror. "Are you alright?"
"Fine," she replied. "Just...I'll be out in a sec."
"Sure."
She heard his footfalls as he moved away and for a moment she wanted to scream at him. She wanted to tell him to stay, wanted to beg him to hold her. Wanted to plead for him to take the memories away. To make it all just disappear into the night. But that wasn't something that Huntress could do.
No only the girl in the mirror would do that. Helena Kyle. Not Huntress.
She looked back towards the mirror and saw that blood was starting to drip down the girls' face. "What did you do to yourself?"
She opened the medicine cabinet and withdrew the first aid kit that was always kept in there. It was a simple one with basic supplies but it would do fine. The wound looked bad but a few strips of gauze would likely clean it up nicely.
"Everything will be fine," Helena assured the girl in the mirror. "So stop your whining and cowboy up."
She saw the girl firm up her lip and tighten her body, like she was channeling her resolve. The look there said she'd damn well try to get strong. To fight. It was the least she could do.
Huntress. Not Helena.
"Well done," she commented. "Well done."
"Anything?" Dinah asked, glancing over at Tim Drake. He was sitting in one of the chairs, looking thoroughly frustrated. His fingers were dancing over the keyboard of one of the computers. He had been at it for almost two hours already, stopping only occasionally to take a sip out of the Mountain Dew can that was settled next to his left hand.
"Not so far. But this is only a third of the file. Barbara and Alfred have the rest. I'm seeing a lot of metas that have mental powers but none that would...wait...wait a minute..."
"Tim?" Dinah asked, a sense of urgency in her voice. She stood up and walked around to his side of the table. She leaned over his shoulder to look at what he was seeing. "Who's that?" she asked, pointing at the picture of a half-bald man. The guy had strange eyes. One blue and one green. The green one looked like it was fake but it was hard to tell. Even the photo made the man look nuts.
"Jared Kelly AKA Mindtrip. File says he used be a Covert Ops agent for the CIA. When he was in his mid twenties anyways. He got in trouble when he started trying to psychically coerce agents into murdering other agents and so on. Sounds like he was trying to start his own little war. The government thinks he was trying to hijack Project Third Eye."
"Project Third Eye?"
"Oh it was some test thing they were doing a few years back to see if certain individuals with proven psychic ability could search out and apprehend individuals about to commit a crime. You know the ultimate in Big Brother. It was taken apart after they realized how easy it would have been to tamper with. Kelly's file says he was believed to be intentionally driving the telepaths in the test insane. All sorts of violent images. Two of them committed suicide before they realized that the project had been hijacked. It was closed down not long after."
"Yikes."
"Yeah, yikes in a big way."
"How do we know this is our guy?"
"Well, for one he used to be housed in the exact cell where the Joker is now. For two his shrink is Dr. Quinzell and for three, he's been in a coma ever since the Joker arrived at Arkham."
"I don't get it. If he's our guy then how?"
"Don't know exactly but somehow they're using him to get in. Hell he probably doesn't even know what he's doing."
"So if we disconnect him, then they lose their connection to Helena?"
"Works in theory," Tim said nodding. "But before we go jerking people's life support system, I'd like to know the hows and the whys."
"Are they all that important?"
"Sure they are. If we're gonna keep the Joker from hurting Helena again, then we need to make for damn sure that he can't do it and the only way we can is by knowing how he did in the first place. I mean, somehow or another, this Mindtrip guy is creating enough of a psychic gateway for the Joker to be able to climb through at will."
"Way over my head, Tim."
"Pretty much over mine too babe," Tim admitted. "Which is why it's time to turn this over to the great and all knowing Oracle."
"So is this our guy then?"
Tim thought for a long moment. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. Finally he said, "Yeah. This is our feller."
"Okay, I'll call Barbara again."
"What did you do to yourself?" Barbara demanded, wheeling over towards where Helena was leaning against the wall. The younger woman was barely standing on her own, allowing the smooth hard surface to keep her upright.
"Nothing. Accidentally cut myself," Helena murmured, her fingers reaching up to graze the gauze bandage on her cheek.
"You're bleeding," Barbara insisted, grabbing Helena's wrist. She turned it sharply inwards so as to keep the girl from pushing her away. "What did you do to yourself?"
"Nevermind. Is Quinzell here?"
"Yeah," Reese said from the doorway. "I have her tied up in the kitchen. Are you sure you can do this. I'm not gonna let you kill her."
"How much faith you have in me, Detective," Helena muttered, shaking her head. "Besides, she's not the one I want to kill. Just maim a little."
"Helena," Barbara said, still holding her wrist. "I don't think is a good idea."
"Miss Barbara?" Alfred said, entering the room. "Miss Dinah and Master Tim are on the phone. They have news."
Barbara looked at Alfred for a moment and then back at Helena. She looked like she wanted to say something but the words wouldn't come. Finally she dropped Helena's wrist. "Reese, go with her."
"I planned on it," he assured her.
"Good. I'll be there in a moment."
"We won't be waiting," Helena replied. She was smiling but it wasn't a jovial one. There was anger dancing wickedly in her eyes. She was more dangerous than Reese had ever seen her.
And that was saying a hell of a lot.
"You ready for this?" he asked, positive that he wasn't.
"You betcha," she said. "Let's dance."
"Good work guys," Barbara commented, eyes locked on the computer screen in front of her. She had the police file of the villain known as Mindtrip up on the screen. He'd had quite an interesting criminal career until agents from the very same program that he'd been hacking had finally stopped him. "How are you holding up Dinah?"
"I'm fine," the blonde came back. "I don't like being out of the battle."
"There's no battle...at least not quite yet," Barbara assured her. "And besides, your role is just as important. Even if we stop Mindtrip, she still has that drug in her system."
"Is she doing okay?" Dinah asked.
Barbara paused for a moment, wondering if she should tell Dinah the truth. Finally, reluctantly, she did. "No. No, she's not."
"What do you mean?" Dinah demanded, clearly agitated. "I should be there helping you guys out."
"There's nothing you can do here, Dinah. Trust me, we need you there."
"Are we short on time Babs?" Tim asked, concern peppering his tone.
"I think so. Look, we have it covered from this side. Reese and I will head over and try to figure out what to do about Mindtrip. Keep the pressure on Troy...I mean Dr. Kasper. We need that antidote."
"No worries," Tim assured her. "And Barb, when this is over, you're going to have to tell me how you and Dr. Kasper know each other so well. Tell me I don't have to tattle on you to Dick."
Barbara snorted loudly. "Later on that okay?" She shook her head. "Good luck guys."
The blonde woman looked up at her former patient and snarled. Then as if she had reminded herself of whom she was supposed to be to Helena Kyle, she changed her expression so that she was instead offering the brunette a strange twisted smile. "Helena," she cooed. "What brings me to you?"
Helena took a step closer to the woman who called herself Doctor Harleen Quinzell. "I know who you are you psycho bitch," she hissed at her. "I know what you've done to me."
Harley clapped her palms together. Her hands were cuffed in front of her but she still had some movement available to her. "Well bravo then. Frankly I think it took you entirely too long anyways. I mean come on Helena, how hard is it? It's not exactly like my real name is all that different."
"Yeah well, mistakes happen. I can promise you that it won't happen again."
"Why?" Harley said, licking her lips almost in anticipation. "Are you going to kill me?" Then she sighed dramatically. "No, you're one of the boring good guys. And worse, you were trained by the great Barbara Gordon. That's too bad really, watching you kill would have been delicious."
"Even if I was killing you?" Helena asked, sarcasm dripping from her words. Her eyes were cold and angry but there was something in her posture that seemed to be enjoying the power she was holding over Harley. Or at least that power that she perceived she had.
"All that much better to know that it would be my death that would be your rebirth," Harley said with a smirk.
"Enough of this," Reese growled as he moved between the two women. He could see that Helena was exerting an unnatural amount of energy in order to keep herself standing up straight. He could also see that her legs were starting to tremble. Strong as she was getting, her limbs were still very weak and unable to endure massive amounts of strain. She was still healing.
"Ooh, is this the police officer that you keep mentioning? He is handsome I must admit," Harley drawled, eyes locked on Helena's. It was a game and they both thought that they were winning it.
"What did you do to me?" Helena snapped.
"Oh I mind-fucked you baby," Harley said with a large smile. "Which I must say was a lot easier than one would think. Though you did give me a run for my money in figuring out that you were the one screwing up all of my plans."
"Oh so sorry about that," Helena muttered. "What did you do to my head?"
"I thought you said you had it all figured out?" Harley asked, mock disappointment in her eyes.
"Answer the question," Helena growled.
Harley bit her lip as if she was trying to think of her response. Several seconds passed before she finally laughed. "Um, no. I don't think so. I think I like you guessing." She grinned. "It turns me on."
Helena narrowed her eyes dangerously. Her eyes glowed for a moment as the rage slid through her blood. She took another step closer to Harley, intentionally moving into her former psychiatrists' personal space. To her surprise the blonde clapped her hands again. "Bitch," she snarled.
"Is this when you threaten me? Promise to hurt me?" Then she lowered her voice. "Or are you going to kiss me?"
Helena reached out and hit her.
Harley slammed backwards in the chair, her face jerking hard to the left as Helena's fist collided with her jawbone. Amazingly, as the woman fell, she was still laughing. The chair cracked against the ground and Harley fell from it, spinning onto her side. The fall didn't seem to stop her mirth.
Hell she was giggling like a damn fool.
Reese reached out his hand to catch Helena but she pushed him away with as much strength as she could muster. She was atop Harley within seconds, her fists flying into the older woman's face. A spray of blood flew upwards, peppering Helena's cheeks.
Harley continued to laugh.
"Helena!" Reese called out, grabbing at her arms. "Huntress!"
"Reese?" Barbara called out as she slid into the room, followed closely by Alfred. She spotted Helena a moment later. "Damn it. Helena, stop it!"
If Helena heard either of them, she didn't show any sign.
Reese moved around to the back of her and lifted her up in the air, her arms still flailing and her legs kicking out. He could see tears on her cheeks as well as blood speckled across her skin. He could see that her eyes while no longer hard cats eyes were icy cold blue. And large as hell.
"Oh don't stop her now, she's just starting," Harley laughed as she pushed herself into the sitting position. Her face was cut and bloody but she was wearing a large smile. There was a purplish mark forming on the side of her jaw and her blonde hair was jutting every which way.
Helena tried to lunge at her again. "I'm going to fucking kill you."
"Doesn't look like it," Harley taunted. Then she looked at Barbara. "Oh the great Barbara Gordon has come to clean up after her messy puppy. Do you know how nauseatingly much I've heard about you? And you're so boring."
It crossed Barbara's mind to beat the living shit out of Harley herself.
Instead she wheeled herself over to where Harley was and bent down towards her. "Laugh it up," she said coolly. "Your life is over. You're going to spend the rest of it in a little cell amusing only your self."
"That's what you think," Harley sang. She looked Barbara straight in the eye and laughed. "You have no idea how little control you have Barbara Gordon. It's all so fleeting."
"Barbara," Reese said from behind her.
She turned slowly, reluctant to put her back to Harley. "What?" she asked tiredly.
"She's out," Reese said, indicating the unconscious woman in his arms. She was lying against him in an awkward manner. He ran his fingers through her hair and adjusted her so that he was cradling her. He used his thumb to wipe away a smear of blood on her cheek.
"Oh that's too bad," Harley giggled. "Looks like it was all too much for her. Poor baby. I guess she's not as strong as she thought she was."
Barbara glanced back at the woman. "Alfred would you do me a favor?"
"Of course," he said, his voice low. He was glaring at Harley, looking quite like he wanted to dropkick the woman himself.
Now that was a visual worth savoring.
"Would you make sure Dr. Quinzell is properly secured? We won't be needing her for a bit but when we do, I want to make sure she's right where we left her."
"Absolutely," Alfred replied quickly. He turned a hard gaze on Harley who just stared back at him passively. She seemed disinterested in him but he knew better. It was all still just a game.
"Good. Reese, carry her to the lab."
He nodded. He curled Helena against his chest and then turned to follow Barbara out of the lab.
Harley smiled up at Alfred as he approached. "You know it's already too late don't you?"
He moved around to the back of her. Noticing that she was bound with a simple pair of cuffs, he began to wrap a rope around her waist and the chair. "For your sake madam, I should hope not."
"For my sake butler baby, it's already too late," Harley snorted. "But Mr. J has it all under control."
"That's it, I'm done with this. I'm putting her under," Barbara hissed as they entered the lab. "If we don't do it, she will die."
"She could die if you put her under," Reese protested.
"She's incapable of not getting emotional or angry and the Joker knows that. It's why he did what he did to her in her dream. Why he..." she stopped suddenly, unable to say the actual word for the madman had tried to do to her young charge. Closing her eyes she muttered, "He's pulling all the strings. I just don't see as we have a choice."
"It's not that I'm disagreeing," Reese said dully. "But how do you know that even a coma will keep him out of her head? How do you know that we're not just trapping her with him? If you put her under, there's no way for her to get away from him. He could finish what he started. And it'll be our fault."
Barbara stopped to consider his words. She was holding a syringe in her hands but could feel it wavering. What if he was right? There really was no way of knowing for certain. It was all just an educated guess to begin with. And the idea of helping the Joker to assault Helena...
"I don't," she finally admitted, her voice unsteady. "But do you have a better idea? Because if you do, Jesse, I'm listening."
He shook his head, baffled by the sudden attitude she was throwing. He knew why she was upset but something still felt off about her reactions. He couldn't quite put his finger on it so he decided to let it pass. "This is all so crazy for me. I don't understand half of this. No, most of this. This world is so strange..."
"If you can't handle it..."
"It's a little too late for that don't you think? I'm in a bit too deep now. No, I'm not going anywhere. I'm just saying that your guess is as good as mine."
She offered him a soft smile and then fell back against her chair. "Reese, I don't know anything for sure. We could be just handing her over to him or we could be saving her life. I don't know. But what I do know is, she's getting worse by the hour. We don't have a lot of time."
She indicated towards one of the machines that was hooked up to Helena.
"Her heartbeat looks fast," Reese noted. "Too fast."
"That's just it," Barbara said softly. "Everything about her right now is too fast. Her entire body is in overdrive. If we don't stop it, she'll eventually just shut down. Even as strong as she is, she can't stop this drug. None of the other metahuman patients were been able to. All we can hope to do is slow it down in order to give Dr. Kasper time to find a cure."
"So you give me an hour," Reese said. "I'll take care of things from my side."
"What? I don't understand what you're getting at?"
"I heard you talking to Dinah earlier. She said you'd discovered who the guy is that's piping the Joker into Helena's dreams. If we can stop the uplink, her dreams won't be a threat to her, right?"
"In theory," Barbara said hesitantly. "But I haven't figured out a way to unhook Mindtrip. As long as he in that coma, the Joker can use him at will."
"You leave that to me," Reese said coldly. "If we take that guy out, we give her at least a fighting chance."
"I'm not sure I like where you're going with this," Barbara said, lifting an eyebrow. Her eyes drifted over to Helena who was whimpering on the bed. She could see that the younger woman looked like she was in the middle of a dream.
"Look at her," Reese instructed. "Now might be the time to put away the superhero handbook and for me to shelve the good boy routine. Now there are ways to save Helena but we may both have to step outside of the lines. And for me, that means using some of my fathers' sources to get this Mindtrip guy brought out of his coma."
Barbara swallowed hard. They really had been brought to desperate measures. Finally, thickly she replied, "Do what you have to do but do it quickly. I'm putting her under in exactly one hour. She's already dreaming right now, I don't see how it makes much difference."
"Wake her up," Reese told her. "Wake her up and keep her up until you hear from me."
Barbara nodded. She hated what this was doing to them all. She knew that Reese had spent most of his life rejecting his father's world. He had railed against it. Hell most of the reason that he had become a cop was to fight back against his fathers' sins.
Things were changing.
And now necessity was demanding that Jesse Reese finally accept the benefits of being Al Hawke's son.
Especially if that meant saving a woman he loved.
"Be quick," she told him. "One hour."
"Good enough," he said. He started towards the door and then stopped and turned back. "We all get ugly sometimes right?"
She paused a beat and then said softly, "Sometimes we all do."
They locked eyes, both seeming to understand what the other was getting at.
Both knowing the extremes they were now willing to go to in order to save Helena Kyle's life.
And both hating themselves for it.
But then, perhaps that was guilt for another day.
"You're like a little dog," he commented, his eyes wandering across her body. "I keep hitting you and you keep returning for more."
"I'm not exactly controlling the game." Helena snorted. "Or trust me, you wouldn't be my idea of a great dream."
He moved towards her, seeming to dance. "I'll always be part of your dreams." He touched her face and she yanked away. He laughed. "Don't pull away from me now. We can still be friends."
She growled at him, her eyes narrowing. "You're sitting in a little cell. You can't touch me. You can't hurt me."
He lifted the gun up and pointed it at her. This weapon was starting to become a reoccurring theme and frankly it was starting to scare her. He was holding it just like someone would a bomb trigger. Like it would do something horrible if he fired it.
But it was just a dream.
Just a damn dream.
"I'm in control," he cackled. "And you're dying."
"I'm alive," she hissed.
"Soon you'll be with her," the Joker giggled.
She felt air wisp past her face and realized that they were no longer in the strange dark room. Instead they were on the street in front of the movie theatre.
And she was watching her mother be murdered again.
"I've seen this all," Helena screamed. "You can't hurt me with this anymore."
"No?" he asked, seeming confused. Then he seemed to brighten. "Ah, yes of course."
The scenery changed again and they were standing in the middle of a cemetery. It was night but she could see men digging graves. Almost involuntarily she felt her feet moving towards one of the empty lots. She looked in and saw a casket at the bottom. She didn't dare ask whom it belonged to.
She needn't have bothered.
The lid of the casket opened and she saw a woman's hand slip out of it. A moment later she saw a face.
Barbara.
She locked eyes with the decayed doppelganger of her mentor. Her mind screamed at her that it wasn't real but she could feel her chest exploding with pain and heartache.
"You did this to me," the Barbara corpse screeched. "You're responsible."
The thing started to walk towards her, hands outstretched.
"No," Helena gasped, stepping backwards.
"And now I'll take you down with me," it continued. "To hell."
Helena tumbled back, her foot hitting against a rock. She felt herself falling before she realized that she was. When she looked up she realized that she was lying in another empty unfilled grave. There was no casket in this one.
"Barbara?" she said, gazing up at the corpse.
It leered at her and snarled. "Your turn," it said as it began to shovel dirt onto her.
"No!" Helena screamed, covering her eyes with her hands. "No please..."
"It's too late," it laughed at her, its voice suddenly morphing into that of the Jokers. "You're already damned for all time."
She felt dirt slap against her face and then everything went dark once more.
Dark and cold.
And the only thing she could hear was him cackling like a mad fool.
He was winning.
She was dying.
END CHAPTER 6: