Title: The End Starts Today
Author: Jen Kollic

Disclaimers: All characters are trademarks of DC Comics, I'm just playing with them.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Notes: As with Chapter 3, this seemed like a good idea at the time.

Spoilers: Big spoilers for Return of the Joker. (the uncut version) Passing references to various other toonverse cartoon/comic episodes/issues as well.

Chapter 5

The continual, throbbing chirp of the Florida crickets were an unnerving replacement for the night sounds of Gotham. Ivy still hadn't gotten used to the near-silence that seemed to envelop the villa complex after midnight. Admittedly there were hardly any holidaymakers here now that summer had passed and September was almost over, but even so Ivy still caught herself wondering at the lack of sirens.

The thought of hiding out in summer homes mostly used by people going to Disney World was so ridiculous that Ivy actually found it comforting. Even if Batman managed to track them to Florida, (unlikely since she'd made every effort to make it look like she was on the way to Louisiana) he'd be checking the motels, not this quasi-residential area. And it had been so much easier to get Harley here without drawing any attention to herself than it would have been at a motel.

It had simply been a case of phoning ahead to book a villa, with a new credit card under an alias she hadn't used before to make sure Batman couldn't trace it, and turning up to collect the keys wearing casual clothes with her hair pulled back into a ponytail and a careful focus on keeping her skin a normal colour. Harley meanwhile had remained in the back seat of the car, (now with license plates changed twice) hidden by its tinted windows and kept completely still by the vines wrapped about her body. She'd been unconscious for the entire journey. Ivy had made sure of that.

After getting the keys, Ivy had just driven to the villa, parked the car in the garage, and moved Harley into the house via the connecting door with the kitchen. So as far as the few neighbours knew, she was here alone. And thus far she'd managed to avoid any suspicious activity too, aside from the permanently closed blinds in one of the two bedrooms. Ivy had been careful about going outside as well, even now at night and in the seclusion of the mosquito-net covered pool she didn't let her natural skin-colour show. And her security measures were confined to inside the house, much to their disappointment as they'd already eaten every cockroach in the garage, and were starting to make surreptitious forays through the open patio door.

Ivy watched in slight amusement as a slender vine cautiously inched its way out of the door and down the steps leading to the pool before sliding noiselessly down one side of the concrete slabs and out of her sight. Had she still been in Gotham, the night air would have had the beginnings of winter's bite in it, but this far south it was like stepping into a hothouse whenever she went outside. If she'd had leisure to, Ivy would probably have quite enjoyed it. But she had other things on her mind, and as a sharp rustle marked a successful result for the foraging vine she pulled her feet out of the pool and stretched before heading inside.

If going outside was like entering a hothouse, then inside was like a fridge. No wonder the plants were unhappy. But they'd have to live with it, Ivy had been keeping the air conditioning turned up high ever since Harley had started to get feverish a few days ago as the break in her leg had become infected. Thankfully Ivy had been foresighted enough to steal intravenous antibiotics with the rest of the medical supplies, and although Harley wasn't showing much sign of improvement yet, she hadn't gotten any worse.

Even so, as Ivy stepped into the dimly-lit room, she couldn't help feeling a twist of anxiety at the fact that Harley still didn't look any better. Her skin was still extremely pale, now glistening slightly under a sheen of cold sweat, her eyes sunken and ringed with dark circles. Ivy hadn't let Harley regain consciousness yet, keeping her sedated with a blend of opiates which would also numb the pain. Ivy wasn't entirely sure whether she was doing this for Harley's sake or her own, to put off the time when she'd have to tell the blonde woman what had happened to the clown. No. It was definitely for the best that Harley remained unconscious and still for now. It had nothing to do with any fears on Ivy's part. At all.

Fetching a syringe and a small bottle of antibiotics from the box beside the bed, Ivy turned up the lights as she punched the needle through the seal of the bottle and drew out the medication. The doctor had helpfully fitted an intravenous line into Harley's left hand back in Gotham, which had made it easy for Ivy to attach the saline and glucose drips she'd stolen from the hospital in Gotham as well as administer the antibiotics. The opiates had been supplied by Ivy herself, and were more effective than any medical morphine.

As Ivy bent slightly to take hold of Harley's hand, she couldn't help noticing the vines wound close around the blonde's chest, easily visible as the blanket covering her had been folded back almost to her waist because of the fever. Injecting the syringe into the IV line, Ivy gently laid Harley's hand back by her side and placed the syringe on the bedside table, then laid her fingertips upon the tightly-coiled vines.

Ivy had gotten the idea from a documentary about snakes in the Amazon; just as a python would wind itself around its prey and squeeze until it felt the heart stop, the creepers were tight enough to feel Harley's heart beating. (though not squeezing so hard as to hinder her breathing or do further damage to her broken ribs) It was certainly a clumsy and primitive method of monitoring Harley's pulse, but it was the best Ivy could do.

Although Harley's heart-rate was still faster than normal, it did seem like the fever was finally breaking, her temperature was gradually falling and the spasmodic shivering that had been wracking Harley's body for the past two days seemed to have stopped. With extreme care, Ivy gingerly probed beneath the bandages on Harley's leg, relieved to find that the swelling also seemed to be going down, although the skin around the wound was still hot to the touch.

The soft whimper made Ivy snatch her hand back as if she'd been burned, even though she was convinced she must be hearing things. Because there was absolutely no way Harley could be anywhere near conscious just now, not with the amount of opiates currently in her bloodstream. But somehow, no doubt just to spite her, Ivy saw that the blonde's eyes were slightly open, a faint look of bemused disorientation creasing her forehead as her blue eyes studied the ceiling with detached curiosity.

Ivy took a few noiseless steps back as her mind raced; unconsciously making sure Harley wouldn't be able to catch sight of her for now. Harley should not be awake right now, it was impossible, Ivy had been regularly dosing her with enough opiates to keep her out as if she'd been under anaesthetic. And it was much, much too early for Harley to have developed any kind of resistance to the drugs; it would take months for her immune system to even begin to…

Of course. Harley's immune system would adapt much faster because of the shots Ivy had given her so that she wouldn't wind up getting poisoned from being around her. How in the hell had she managed to forget about that? Well, she could kick herself for the oversight later; right now she had to deal with it. Ivy considered just darting forward to give Harley a larger dose of opiates before the blonde became fully conscious, but if she did that Harley would see her. And would be bound to ask questions (that Ivy didn't want to answer) before Ivy managed to knock her out again.

Another whimper. Ivy had to do something fast, consequences be damned. It was far better for Harley to be senseless, that way there would be no risk of her trying to move her leg. (even if it was tightly bound and splinted, and a few vines had pre-emptively wrapped about it to hold it flat on the bed) Steeling herself, Ivy quickly moved forward to stretch a hand towards Harley's bare shoulder, her fingertips already slightly damp as if from sweat.

They never connected. Much to Ivy's consternation, Harley reacted to the movement (how? Even if she was conscious, she was still doped up to the eyeballs!) and turned her head towards her. Ivy froze with her hand only a few inches from Harley's bare skin as their eyes met, as if she'd been caught red-handed in some dreadful act. As if to emphasise this, Harley's eyes narrowed in what might have been suspicion, but was in fact a hazy attempt to focus on the blurred figure standing over her. The skin and hair colouring were enough to identify Ivy, even before Harley could make out her features.

"…Red…" It had been Harley's first word after Ivy had found her, and now her first word on regaining consciousness too. "What… where…" As she made several attempts to move, it took several seconds for Harley to realise that her body wasn't responding, though her head was swimming as if she'd just spent six hours on a Sit-N-Spin. Strangely there was no pain, apart from inside her head; the rest of her body was completely numb. This might have worried her if she'd been more lucid, but in her current state she accepted it without question.

"It's okay Harl. You're safe now." Pulling her hand back, Ivy wiped it surreptitiously on her shirt before continuing. "Just take it easy, I'll go get you some water." As she stepped out of the room, Ivy took a deep, shaking breath. She had no idea what to do now. She couldn't drug Harley again without her noticing, not unless she distracted her somehow, or managed to do it quickly. If Harley realised that she'd been keeping her unconscious…

Harley meanwhile was gazing back at the ceiling, wondering why she couldn't see any plants, just plain white paint. Not what she'd come to expect from one of Ivy's hideouts. Maybe this was a motel? The stark whiteness was starting to make Harley's head throb, and she closed her eyes with a grimace. Only for them to snap open again moments later to banish the images that seemed to be imprinted on the back of her eyelids. Even so, the kid's screaming still echoed in her ears, so vividly that Harley began to wonder if he was here too, and raised her head slightly to keep an anxious lookout for Ivy.

That made the nausea ten times worse, and Harley let her head fall back with a grunt, her brain shattering into spiked balls and sharp edges as her skull impacted with the pillow. She decided that the images were better than her rapidly-worsening migraine, and shut her eyes once more. The next thing she knew, there was a slight pressure at her lips and Ivy's voice beside her.

"Here. Drink." It was an order, not a suggestion, and Harley gave a small moan of protest as her head was gently lifted. It seemed like the intensity of her headache was directly proportional to how far her head was raised from the bed. She took a few gulps of water to appease Ivy, then turned her face away with a grunt that she hoped would translate as 'please put my head back down before it explodes'. Thankfully it did.

"Where are we Red?" As her perception began to sharpen, Harley was starting to realise that she definitely wasn't in one of Ivy's hideouts, and the room certainly didn't look like it was in a seedy motel either. Too clean.

"We're in a safe place Harl, don't worry. Just take it easy, no-one's going to find us, not Batman, not…" Ivy broke off as Harley started at the sound of his name, her eyes widening in fear.

…the eerie white eyes narrowed to burning slits as he strode inexorably towards her, black gloves reaching for her throat as behind him the kid in the Joker costume screamed and cried and laughed all at once…

"He'll find me…" Harley moaned as the images slowly faded, the look in his eyes had promised her that. But that had been a dream, hadn't it? She'd fought Bratgirl, while Mistah J had fought…

"No he won't Harley. We're not in Gotham. We're not even in the sane state, we're in Florida. He's not going to track us here; I've left nothing for him to follow…" Again Ivy paused in mid-sentence, this time because from Harley's expression it was clear that the blonde wasn't listening.

Harley was sure that Batman attacking her was a dream. He'd gone for Mistah J, hadn't he? She had memories of falling, but it was a blurred mix of shattered concrete walls and brick buildings, and she couldn't remember if she'd fallen or if Mistah J had pushed her. No, that had happened before. Batgirl had pushed her this time. (or had she? Harley was sure she remembered trying to hold onto her) And Ivy had been there this time, not that Hispanic cop. But what had happened to Mistah J? (and why did that thought give her a cold feeling inside?)

"Red? If you found me, what did they do with Mistah J?" Well, it was certainly weird that Ivy had found her, after being pushed out the window Harley had woke up in Arkham. Maybe Mistah J had escaped and the Bats had been chasing him instead. Or maybe (well, probably) they'd been more concerned about Junior than finding her. And why wasn't Ivy looking at her any more? "Red?"

Ivy was tempted just to lie and say she didn't know, but Harley would discover the truth sooner or later, and if she remembered that Ivy had lied to her about it… well, it wouldn't be good. Best just to put her back to sleep for now, Harley was in no state to hear about what had happened to her puddin'. (Ivy certainly wasn't trying to put it off, not at all…)

"Red?" As Harley called her name for the third time, Ivy finally reacted, turning to face her and reaching out with one hand to stroke strands of blonde hair back from Harley's eyes. Even in her current groggy state, Harley could still make out the brittleness in Ivy's eyes and voice as she spoke.

"Never mind that now Harley. Just get some sleep." Keeping her hand on Harley's forehead, Ivy hoped that the drugs would kick in before Harley realised what was happening. Even so, better this than having to tell her what had happened to the clown.

"But… Mistah J…" Harley's head was spinning again, her own voice sounding distant as the screaming in her ears began to return. Ivy's fingertips felt cool as they slowly stroked back and forth across her forehead, though the redhead was going out of focus again. Harley was trying hard not to close her eyes, because she knew what she'd see if she did, but it was like her eyelids were weighted with lead…

Good. It had taken under a minute, Harley would never realise what had happened. (well, as long as Ivy didn't have to do that too often…) And this was for the best, there was no way Ivy could have told Harley that the clown was dead as soon as she came round. It wouldn't have been good for her. Harley needed more time to recover (and Ivy needed more time to work herself up to it) before she could be told. This was definitely for the best.

Ivy wasn't fooling anyone. Least of all herself.