Jason was leaning against the Arkham wall staring at the camera. He blinked his eyes tiredly.

"Cameras along the wall all still good," he commed Damian.

"Took you long enough to check," he retorted. "Did you fall asleep?"

"Just about." He pushed off the wall and started walking. "So how you been, Junior?"

"Well, Red Hood, I've been well," Damian mused, smiling a bit.

"If I did take a nap, you're pretty adept at Arkham patrol on your own by this point, right? You'd have it covered." Jason grinned. He walked down a dark street; Dick was going to owe him for having to miss his break. It was already full dark, and he didn't even think Dick was awake yet.

"Of course. I cover for Richard often enough. Why don't you take a nap at his safe house?" Damian suggested, listening behind himself.

"Are you going to be all arrogant about being in charge of a patrol if I do?"

"When am I ever?" he asked with a smirk.

"I think it's your natural state." Jason laughed before abruptly stopping. "Hey, you're still in the North quadrant right?"

"Yes? Why?"

"I think I'm being followed." Jason spun around, drawing his gun. Ivy gave him an amused grin at the gun leveled at her.

"You going to shoot me?"

"I might," he muttered. "So Robin," he commed, "you'll never guess."

"Poison Ivy," Robin said, looking down from the rooftop at them both. "Go on, I can't stop you."

"So what's up, Buttercup?" he asked her, and she rolled her eyes.

"I have a problem."

"You're going to have to be more specific."

"Do you ever stop talking for like two seconds?" she complained.

"Nope. It's one of my better qualities."

"And do you ever stop flirting?"

"Do you want me to?" he challenged.

"No," she groaned in frustration. "And that's what's so infuriating." Jason was once again glad for his Red Hood helmet when he was around her. The look on his face was some combination of shock, admiration, and giddiness at her admitting it. "And what about you?" She stepped closer to him. "Do you want me to stop?" She reached her hand out to touch his chest, and he caught it, reflexively stopping her advance.

"No," he admitted. "And that's my problem," he stepped back away from her, "so what's yours?" Ivy watched him.

"The Joker," she finally said. "He's… decided I'm a traitor for my trips into Gotham, and we both know what happened to Selina when he decided the same about her." If he'd tried to kill Selina, the only attack on her had been the accident on her supply run when she'd been bitten. If that was the case, then not only did the Joker have control of Arkham, but the capabilities to orchestrate an attack on the mainland.

"Okay," Jason sighed. He'd have to talk to Bruce. At least Selina'd be on his side. "Follow me." He headed back toward the Uptown bridge. "Robin," he commed, "you're on your own for a bit. Let Batsy know I'm on my way to see him. There's an issue."

"Yes sir," he answered. "Since I'm always covering for everyone's asses… You owe me a favor, Todd, don't forget it. Wake Nightwing up, too, and tell him to get his ass out here. That can be his punishment." Robin switched comm lines. "Batman. Red Hood is headed across the bridge with Poison Ivy. We may have a situation." Jason switched comm his feeds too.

"Dick get up." No response. "Dick, wake up!"

Harley jerked awake as she heard shouting outside the bedroom doors.

"Shout at me all you want, I can't make any more progress without equipment!" Jonathan Crane's voice came through the solid wood.

"Fine! Fine," Joker snapped furiously. "We'll get them when we go into Midtown," he retorted. "Now, let's just focus on this objective and get it done, shall we?"

The bedroom door bounced open against the wall. She glanced around the bedroom in confusion. Joker walked past her without a look, tearing drawers out of the dresser as he searched through them. His violet coat swept around his ankles like a cape, his green hair hanging in front of his face. He muttered quietly, chuckling through his words in a seemingly endless loop.

"Puddin?" she asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Joker ignored her.

"Crane, have you seen the wristwatch that I had?" he called as he walked casually back out of the room.

"It's on the desk in here," he called. Harley got up and went to the door.

"What's going on?" Crane glanced at her, and then at the Joker. He opened his mouth to respond, but the Joker cut him off.

"Did you hear what she says?" he asked, glancing at Crane. His eyes flashed as he looked over his shoulder at her. "She's concerned now. She wants to know now."

"What?" She took a step back. "I don't understand."

"Did you have a good night?" He sighed, smiling at her gently.

"I guess," Harley said slowly. She'd showered at Ivy's and brushed her teeth then brushed her teeth again after she'd thrown up. She felt reasonably well sobered except for the persisting headache.

"What are we doing? What are we planning? What's. Going. On?!" He laughed hysterically, advancing on Harley. He caught her face and looked at her. "If you were ever here, you would know," he hissed, releasing her so roughly that she stumbled and nearly fell to the ground.

"You never need me," she defended as she righted herself. "I just get in ya way, so ya kick me out."

"And you never come back," he sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I'm back," she pouted. "Sometimes I might be a little late, but I always come back."

Joker's eyes flashed, and he caught her shirt, yanking it off of her and over her head as he laughed. She stumbled back, left in her bra and shorts and the bruises on her hips and marks on her torso were exposed as she tried to hide herself.

"You come back defiled," he said passively, a low laugh rising in his throat. Harley could see Crane over his shoulder, his jaw shut tight, his fists clenched at his sides. She crossed her arms over her chest protectively.

"At least he wants me," she snapped.

Joker grit his teeth in a grin and stepped forward, slapping her across the face. "He doesn't need you," he snapped, catching her by the throat.

"Joker," Crane warned, his voice cracking.

"He wants you now. But he'll cast you away. Eventually. And what do you think will happen? That he and the Bat will take you in, and everything will be peachy keen?" Joker laughed in her face, drawing her closer. "The Bat confined us. Filth like you and me, thrown away in Arkham. Just because his brat takes an interest in you now- for his own satisfaction- did you think that he'd ever lower himself to you? You're good for the night, but not the daytime. What happens next? He whisks you off on his white horse, you become a hero, his princess, and he your prince?!" Joker laughed again in disbelief.

"It doesn't matter does it?" she cried, her eyes watering. "It doesn't matter if he wants me in the end. I'm only supposed ta be there when it's convenient ta want me, aren't I?" Her cheek stung, and she pried her neck free of his grasp, stumbling away gasping.

"See, that's where you're wrong, Harley," he growled. "I need you. Not when it's convenient, but at all times. If you want to help, help me work. Don't distract me. There's a difference. You're my right hand woman. Who else knows more about me than you? You're nothing to him. Nothing a blow up doll couldn't fix, anyway. He could have any woman he likes, and you think he'd choose you? Hell. Maybe he has! Maybe he's chosen you, and six other girls in Gotham! You every four days, and them every three!" Joker laughed.

"Joker stop it," Crane whispered. He ignored him.

"Do you really think someone like him, someone as-" he mocked her accent, still grinning- "drop-dead gorgeous as him is tied down to one girl?" Joker threw his hands up. "I'm the only one who cares about you. I set you free. I want you here. I need you here. And I'll be damned if a Bat who wastes your talents is going to take you away from me." Joker advanced on her, grabbing her face again and making her look at him. "You'll be damned before I let that happen."

"You're hurting me," she gasped, her hands grabbing at his.

"Good. You've gone sane, and it's so disappointing, my dear," he snapped angrily, pulling back and punching her in the face. He grabbed her by the arm when she stumbled, and he threw her into the wall. Harley cried out, trying to shield herself.

"Joker!" Crane cried, looking panicked.

"Maybe you need some sense knocked back into you, Doll," he growled, drawing back to hit her again.

"Joker! Leave her alone!" Crane shouted, catching his arm. Joker released Harley to whirl around and punch Scarecrow in the nose, knocking him back. He turned on him and grabbed him by the collar, hitting him again and again, laughing as his glove came away bloodied. Scarecrow tried to fight back; he got a few punches in, but the Joker was relentless.

"Puddin!" Harley cried. She stumbled over and grabbed his elbow. "Stop! Please stop!"

"N-no-" Crane coughed, and the Joker pushed her away; Scarecrow scrambled towards the couch, pulling himself up on the arm. Joker glanced at Harley. He was particularly nasty tonight, in one of his moods.

"Poo, he got away," Joker frowned, turning on her. Crane looked on in horror, ready to jump in again if need be. His face was bloodied, and he watched Harley. Joker scrutinized her, waiting on an explanation. He'd split the skin open on her cheek, and she was bleeding.

"Why?" she asked, wiping a tear away. "All I've ever done is try to please you. Why do you push me away? Why do you need to hurt me?"

He blinked slowly, watching her. He looked down at his hands and smiled. "Why? Why, doctor? Why?" His voice was soft. "Why does anyone do anything?" Joker smiled a little broader and stepped closer to her, ignoring her wincing as he stroked her cheek. He looked at the blood on his fingers.

"Why?" she whispered.

"You give me an explanation, doctor, I have a certified document saying that I don't know," he laughed. "Why did Ivy, our only hope at self sustaining food, leave us? Abandon her people? Why didn't you stop her?!" He shouted, grabbing her wrist.

"Because you were gonna hurt her the way you tried ta hurt Selina. You were mad at her, and I wanted her safe." She stuck her chin out defiantly.

"Traitor. Traitorous little thing," he snapped. "You may have killed us all, now; I lost us Batman's charity once, shame on me, but you lost us our last hope. Second time's the charm. Shame on you." He grinned horribly. "You're responsible for the death of your own people. Of us!" Joker shrieked, yanking her closer by her wrist and raising his hand to hit her again.

There was a sickening thunk suddenly, and the Joker crumpled at her feet to reveal Jonathan Crane behind him, wielding the lamp from the table. He panted hard, his eyes burning.

"Stop it!" he shouted down at the unconscious clown, and then dropped the lamp in shock. "Oh God. Did I kill him?!" Crane covered his mouth. Harley dropped down beside the Joker.

"He's breathing," she sighed in relief. "You hit him?!"

"Oh God- well what was I supposed to do?! He was gonna hit you again and I told him to stop-" Crane ran his hands through his matted black hair. "He's gonna make my entrails my extrails," he gasped, starting to pace.

"Then why did you hit him?" Harley cried. She checked the Joker over, gingerly feeling the back of his head. Her fingers had blood on them when she pulled them back.

"So he didn't hit you again!" Crane shouted at her, spreading his arms.

"He would never-" she cut herself off, "seriously hurt me."

"He shouldn't. Hurt you. At all." Crane said forcefully, wiping some of the blood out of his eyes behind his broken glasses.

"You don't get to decide what's good for me," she snapped. "I just..." She looked down at the Joker than back up at Crane hopelessly. He stared at her, and then sighed in resignation.

"Let's get him in bed," he walked towards her, lifting the Joker up with her help and carrying him into the bedroom. He put him in the bed, not being overly careful; he did still hate him. Harley returned from the bathroom with a new shirt on and medical supplies, and Jonathan cleaned and dressed the wound on the back of the Joker's head, leaving him and turning to Harley. He picked up a clean rag and started dabbing at the cut in her cheek to clean her up.

"What are we gonna do?" she whispered, her eyes wide and panicked.

"Hope he doesn't remember what happened?" Crane said quietly. The blood was drying on his nose, the right side of his face swelling up, his eye almost closed. His glasses were cracked even more now, and blood dripped over his brow into his eyes. Jonathan sighed, taping a bandage over Harley's cheek. He smoothed it down. "Ivy is safe?"

"I dunno." Harley admitted. "But thank's for tellin' me ta warn her. She's leavin' Uptown today."

"You're welcome," he said quietly, and then made her look at him. "Promise me you'll get out next."

"I can't." She glanced over at the Joker's motionless form. "I can't leave him."

"Try. Promise me you'll at least try." Crane pleaded. Harley stared at him. This was what she knew, life with the Joker. She loved him. And that may be crazy, but so was she. Nothing made sense anymore. She looked down. Crane sighed. "Be here when he wakes up. It... This will be easier if you choose your side, Harley," he watched her. "Be careful."

"I'm sorry." she glanced up at him before staring down at the ground. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"You wanted someone to love you back." He sighed. "Whether or not he does, only you know, but..." Crane smiled a little, but he still looked sad. "You need to start making the distinctions by yourself. You're a smart woman, Harley Quinn. Always have been. Smarter than me, and smarter than him." Crane watched her, pointing at the Joker. He was quiet for a long time. "Start thinking carefully." He sighed and turned to the door. Sometimes she remembered the life of Harleen Quinzel before the Joker had entered it. The Joker had been a part of her life long before she'd even met him, and the day she became Harley Quinn had been like a dream. It had been like an impossible dream where strange things happen but somehow make sense. Even knowing she wasn't dreaming, she couldn't wake up.

"Come on Doc," she said and smiled at him but it felt twisted. "You know I was never very good at that."

"No, I know you were always good at that," he chuckled. "You let go of your sanity. You chose him. How does the saying go? It's better to be the right hand of the devil than in his path? You stand next to Caesar, and you're in a position to destroy or liberate us all. And I think you always knew that, somewhere deep down." Crane smiled sadly. "Which is why I'm going to let you know-" he let out a sigh- "Joker organized an attack- Deadshot, a few goons and zombies heading into Uptown to prowl the streets. I don't know why but…"

"Ivy," Harley breathed. Crane nodded.

"I think, yes," he said quietly.

"Okay," Harley started pacing, "okay, okay. But she should be out of Uptown by now right? Right?"

"You said it yourself, Harley. You don't know. I don't know. But there's nobody else that he hates more at the moment," Crane said quietly. Harley stared at the Joker.

"I can't leave him."

"He'll be here when you get back," he assured her. "I hit him pretty hard… and if you don't go, he kills one of your only friends here."

"But what if he does wake up. I should be here." Her argument was only half hearted.

"I'll hit him again," Scarecrow shrugged. "Look. If he wakes up and you're here, he'll hurt you. He can't hurt me. He still…" He looked down. "Still has use for me. If he wakes up, I'll placate him and you can come back when he's not… in a blind rage."

"But... If... Shouldn't I... Okay," she finally agreed, already feeling guilty about leaving him. "But I'm hurrying back." She stepped toward the door. "I'll just be gone long enough to make sure she's okay and warn her," she looked at the Joker again. "Okay?"

"Okay. It'll be fine, Harley," he smiled a little. "Hurry back." She bit the inside of her cheek before nodding and running off.

It was agony riding in the slow elevator, but as soon it touched down on the bottom floor, she bolted for the door and shoved it open. She sprinted through Arkham, not paying attention to anyone she passed, but paused when she reached the wall. She had no way of knowing where Ivy was. Chances were the bridge guards would let Ivy through but not her. If she'd gone to the bridge she would be out of Uptown, but if not...

Harley ran toward the middle of Uptown, looking for anyone. She could hear shouting echoing in the streets a few blocks away, and the quiet sounds of a silenced pistol firing. She ran until she burst through the doors of a crumbling studio building, once used for gallery art shows; the entire first floor was a large, white, empty space filled with half walls set up like some kind of maze reflected in the black tile floor. Abandoned minimalist paintings hung crooked and vandalized, and looming black iron statues guarded the corners of the room. She could hear voices somewhere in the black and white darkness.

"You've been meddling for too long. Bossman's not too happy. Did you think that you were clever, or sneaky? You think he didn't notice?" There was a groan as the voices paused, and it wasn't a zombie. It wasn't Ivy, and she recognized it.

Dick looked down, away from Deadshot, as the villain bent over in front of him.

The group had tracked Ivy and Red Hood to the bridge, too late to catch her, but Nightwing was crossing into Uptown to cover the patrol at the same time. The Joker would have taken either or, really; Ivy was a traitor, but Dick would be a prize the Joker would reward them handsomely for. They'd attacked with vicious precision. They'd chased him down until he couldn't run anymore. A localized EMP burst had taken out his comms, and though he'd fought, they'd overtaken him. Deadshot had cornered him in the gallery, and he'd fallen for it; Nightwing had run in in a last ditch effort to escape, and that's when they caught up with him.

"What do you have to say for yourself," Deadshot said, grabbing a fistful of Dick's dark hair, pulling his face up. Blood dripped from his nose and his lip, splatters of it across his face from God knows where. The three Infected on chains snarled and snapped at him from where two burly men held them back from the group, but they were losing energy, and patience. The chains slackened, and Dick jerked back in terror as the female Infected nearly clipped his face with her once-manicured claws. Deadshot yanked his hair, his teeth grit angrily as he stared down at Dick. "Well?"

"I don't have anything to say," Dick snapped, spitting blood at Deadshot's face. The marksman laughed and straightened up, nodding at one of the two men holding Dick's arms behind his back. He kicked Dick in the stomach until he bent over coughing, and then planted a boot against Nightwing's head, forcing him to the ground.

"Do you? Really? Now I'm doing this job because I've been told, because you've been ravaging the Joker's girl. You weren't the target, but you're Arkham's most wanted in the Joker's ring. You'll do just fine."

"'Ravaging?' Gross, man," Dick coughed.

Deadshot snorted and knelt down in front of him, and the goon let Dick sit up again; Deadshot pressed his gun against Dick's chin and looked at his mask. "I'll let you in on two little secrets- The first is that I've been ordered to end you, but I'm going to get as much pleasure out of it as I can. Take pride in my work, and all that, but also- you ain't the only one she's had relations with," Deadshot laughed. "You aren't special, and neither was I, and I guess that's just the luck of the draw. Joker's asked me to make ya smile before I shoot you, so if you could," he pressed the gun harder against Dick's chin. He glared back at Deadshot without a word.

There was an ear-splitting crack of a gunshot, and Deadshot suddenly cried out, dropping the gun as a bullet ripped through his hand. He clutched it with the other hand and looked around for the attacker in the dark.

"I'm sorry," Harley stepped forward, holding her gun up. "That was me. I probably shouldn'ta just shot ya first. I'm sorry. It's been a really long day," she dropped her hands to her sides and sighed. "Can we not do this?"

"Orders are orders, love, and you're not on the hit list, but I'm sure Joker'd understand," Deadshot sighed, clutching his hand. Dick stared at Harley, glancing down at his belt where it lay on the floor a few feet away. If he could just get his tranq gun…

Deadshot snatched up his pistol and rolled to the side, unholstering a second as he fired on Harley. A bullet caught her pigtail, whizzing just over her shoulder, and Deadshot ducked behind a wall as the two goons holding Dick's arms began shooting. Harley took cover and Dick covered his head; the zombies began frantically pulling at their chains in the gunfire.

"Floyd really?" Harley called. "I just talked to Joker," she held her gun up, checking it over, "everything's good." She glanced around the wall she was hiding behind.

"Sorry, love!" he called over the gunfire. Dick dove at his tranq gun while the goons were distracted, but the men holding the zombies let go. Two of them raced at Dick just as he reached his belt, and the third attacked one of the gunmen; he screamed as it tore into his flesh, overtaking him in seconds. Dick cried out as the female tackled him. He threw her off and grabbed an escrima stick, whirling around as the male leapt onto his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Dick caught it's neck with his escrima stick, holding it away from him, and he glanced at the woman. It had regained its balance and was tensing to strike again.

"Harley! Little help!" Dick shouted as she lunged, and he kicked her away. A bullet ripped through the female's forehead and she fell back, but Harley left him to deal with the male as she stepped out in front of Deadshot.

"You're not going to shoot me." One of the remaining gunman had taken care of the third zombie, and they looked to Deadshot for what to do. He stared at Harley.

"Believe me, I don't want to," he breathed, his face set in stone behind his pistol.

"I know." She smirked a little and flicked her pigtail. "You never miss."

Dick suddenly jackknifed to his feet and fired two tranqs at Deadshot, and then turned to take out the remaining goons before he stumbled to the side, the last zombie lying dead at his feet.

Deadshot fell to his knees, the tranquilizers already working, and he dropped to the floor in front of Harley. Dick leaned against the wall.

"Lucky I'm a pretty good shot too," he panted, groaning as he bent over to pick up his belt. He clipped it on and holstered his weapons. "Thanks."

"I thought Ivy was the one they were after," Harley admitted, scratching the bandage on her cheek.

"Oh. Then I'm less flattered you came. Still flattered, but less so," he flashed her a smile, and then winced and gingerly touched the cut on his lip. "Ow…"

"Is she okay?" she asked. "Sorry, priorities. Are you okay? Are ya gonna die?"

"Ivy is in Midtown. She's fine, she's with Red Hood," Dick sighed, rubbing his jaw. "And I'm fine, yeah. Just glad that you showed up, honestly," he chuckled.

"I like to make an entrance," she giggled.

"Clearly," Dick smiled, and then stumbled, groaning as he pressed his arm to his side. Blood had seeped through his jacket from the knife wound there. Harley lifted his shirt to look at it.

"I can try and patch you up," she offered, "but it's pretty deep. You should probably get stitches."

"Nah, just a graze. I would say don't worry about it, but that would only be if I knew I could make it back," Dick grimaced. "At this point its sixty-forty, probably not in my favor," he slid down the wall, digging in a pocket on his belt for antiseptic and bandages.

"It seems like the odds are never in your favor," Harley muttered as she sat cross legged beside him. She took the supplies from him. "Take your shirt off," she ordered as she prepared the bandaging.

"Not when it comes to you," Dick joked, pulling his jacket off gingerly and then peeling the top of his bloodsoaked Nightwing suit over his head. He couldn't stop himself from groaning in pain, but he smiled at her again. She glanced up at him.

"Stop smiling at me," she laughed. "You're injured." She carefully started cleaning the wound.

"Oh, it's not so bad," he laughed a little, watching her. His breathing was still uneven and he looked pale from blood loss, but seemed otherwise okay, despite the bruises and various wounds suffered at the hands of Deadshot and his goons.

"I'm looking at it so lying isn't gonna work," she told him as she tried to stop the bleeding. Her head was bent downward near his bare chest as she worked. It was familiar this close to each other. Dick closed his eyes behind his mask.

"I can try," he chuckled weakly.

"Uh huh, and that's most likely how you got into this situation." She glanced back behind her, suddenly worried about how long she'd been here and that she wasn't hurrying back before returning her attention to patching him up.

"Probably. You got somewhere to be?" He smiled at her, his head leaning against the wall. He sniffed as he wiped some blood away from his nose.

"And if I do?" she challenged as she made sure the bandage was tight.

"Hey, don't be so hostile. It was just a question," he smiled, watching her. "Didn't expect you to give me the cold shoulder."

"I did almost get shot because of you," she defended with a small smile. She leaned back and admired her handiwork. "There. You should be able ta make it home."

"Thanks. And I'm sorry you had to come rescue a damsel in distress," Dick laughed, standing. He took her hand and helped her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her. "Thank you," he said again with a smile. She rolled her eyes.

"Don't mention it." Harley looked around at the downed gunmen. "Although I guess it doesn't really matter if you do."

"Yeah. You know, Ivy is safely in Midtown. You... you could come too," Dick said quietly. She didn't know if it was the blood loss or if he was still drunk or not, but he sounded off. She stared at him and shook her head.

"No I can't," she said. "I mean, what do ya expect ta happen? Batman just lets me into Gotham? Everyone trusts me? I'm suddenly not crazy? I just leave the Joker?"

"Yes." Dick took his mask off, looking at her earnestly. Even with the blood drying on half of his face, he was breathtaking. He stroked her cheek.

"No." She grabbed his hand to stop it. "I'm not gonna run away with a guy I really don't know anything about."

"Well I want to run away with the girl that I can't stop thinking about. Four days is too long to wait," he smiled down at her. "Think about it. You can come with me, if you want. I don't... I don't want to make you do anything, but..." Dick bit his lip, watching her.

"But then ya'd know where to find me whenever ya wanted a quickie," she snapped, raising an eyebrow. The Joker's words were painful in her ears, but he'd been right. She couldn't help saying it.

"Harley- what? Where- where did that come from?" Dick asked in shock, stepping back from her, his cheeks burning.

"That's all we ever do, isn't it?" she demanded. "It's all I'm good for apparently."

"No! Harley, why would you- that is not all you're good for! That's what I've been trying to tell you- it's him- putting ideas in your head-"

"-No. It's me not knowing anything about the life ya live everyday and just being the piece of ass ya get on the side whenever it's convenient for ya!" Her pale face was getting flushed from their argument.

"How can you think that?!" Dick breathed incredulously. "You stand here in front of me bruised and hurt- did the Joker do that to you? Is this him talking?" he said quietly.

"It's nothing." She turned her face away. "And don't change the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject," he sighed. "It's all the same. I don't know where you're getting those crazy ideas, but they're not true." Dick knelt and picked up his shirt, wincing as he pulled it over his head.

"I wonder why I could possibly be having crazy ideas," she snapped sarcastically. "Ya know what? It doesn't even matter." She shook her head.

"How could you think that's what I think of you?!" Dick demanded, catching her arms with his hands. It wasn't hostile or threatening. It was desperate.

"What am I supposed ta think? That out of all the girls in Gotham, ya like me? The Joker's girlfriend?" She froze, her eyes going wide as she suddenly realized why Dick hung around her. Always asking about Arkham, making comments about the Joker, getting her to talk. "That's what this was about wasn't it?" She yanked her arms away. "It was about him."

"What? No, Harley, it wasn't like that!" Dick defended, but the he felt guilty. "I mean, at first, maybe- but that's not what this is anymore!" he cried, running his hands through his hair.

"'Not anymore?'" She laughed maniacally. "And why should I believe that?"

"Because I fell in love with you!" Dick shouted before wincing, his voice echoing in the white maze. It's volume seemed to shock even him. He immediately regretted it.

Harley stood frozen for a moment before she pushed his chest.

"Don't say that." She shoved him again, and his hand went to his side. "Ya don't get to say that."

Dick stared at her in shock, stepping back. "Why? I do." he paused, as if just truly realizing it himself. "I love you." He stuttered.

"Ya don't get to say you were using me and then that ya love me," she hissed, clenching her jaw. "You don't get to do that," she breathed.

"And you weren't using me?!" He cried and then shook his head. "That's not important. I didn't want to do it. Not at first. But then someone suggested, as long as I was with you, I may as well try and separate you and the Joker, take him down a few pegs..." Dick bit his lip, trying to stop the words coming out of his mouth. "I know it seems like I'm saying this now to accomplish that end, but the fact of the matter is; I fell in love with you weeks ago and all I've thought about was running away with you." He ran a hand over his mouth.

"That's not fair. I told ya why I was seein' you. I never lied," she defended, her voice cracking. "You went into this from the beginning with the intent to hurt me."

"Not you!"

"Why should I believe you?!" Joker was right. "You were just using me!" She blinked her eyes rapidly; she didn't want him to see her cry.

"I wasn't! The other night, the night before, and the night before that; there was nothing there but you and me. I did lie to you in the beginning, and I'm so sorry," Dick breathed, catching her hand. "But I do love you. And that's the absolute truth." Harley pulled her hand back, staring at him. She couldn't believe how much this hurt. She didn't want to be here, she didn't want to hear this, and she didn't want to believe it.

"But it doesn't matter does it?" She stuck her chin out, trying not to let it quiver. "Because I was just using you too. So it was fun while it lasted." She turned and started walking away, not wanting to face him anymore. Dick wanted to keep silent. It was better for them both if they did this. If they left. His side was on fire, he'd already bled through the bandages and his shirt was soaked again. He couldn't do it.

"Harley, wait, please-" he begged. "We can still see each other, just talk- I don't want to lose you-"

"I have to get back to my Puddin," she said bluntly, not turning around. "Bye Wonder Boy."

Dick wordlessly closed his mouth, watching her go. He didn't want to believe that this was the last time he'd see her. Despite the exhausting depression weighing on him, Dick felt panic flare in his chest. His wound hadn't been properly sealed and his heart was racing from the argument, and he was losing a lot of blood. He made his way to the exit and stumbled out into the street. His comm was back online, and he pressed it.

"Nightwing to cave- I need help here-" he said as he kept walking, the bridge coming into view. "Batman. I'm sorry," he chuckled, and then fell forward onto the pavement, his feet slipping out from under him.