AN: The first movie says "Flagg" the second says "Flag"...not sure which is correct.
The cool night prompted them to leave the window open the evening before. A soft breeze caused the curtains to dance along with the balcony where the French doors were securely shut. The moon was just barely a sliver in the night sky, but there was enough light emanating from it that the figures could be seen in the bed. Tangled in the sheets, Rick tossed and turned, hands flailing about in his sleep. Up, down, up, down. He'd whimper a few times, then cry, then whimper some more. This didn't usually keep her awake, but tonight was the exception. She reached out a hand to gently nudge his shoulder. Although Rick had warned her against doing such things, for fear of hurting her when he came to, she wasn't afraid of him because of her time with Joker.
There was a brief moment of a calm lull, where he stopped moving. For a scant second, she wondered if he might still be alive, but then the thrashing started again. "Get off me," he shouted, pushing with his hands against whatever was pressing against his body. And when an unstoppable object met an immovable force, gravity would collide and create a reaction. "I said, get off of me!" This time he shouted it, shoving his hands at the opposition and causing Harley to lose balance, falling from the bed.
The sound of the thud caused him to flinch, but she put her chin against the bed, watching him over the sheets that were bunched up on the side of the bed. He seemed to be so immersed in his dream that even she couldn't get him to budge. Finally, she moved to the other side of the bed and knelt down beside him, tugging hard on the sheets and tossing him to the floor as he had to her. He landed with a louder thud than her; sure to wake up the neighbors below them, and groaned, rubbing his head. "The hell, Harles?"
She wagged a finger at him. "Don't ever! hit me again." She hissed, emphasizing the word ever. She sat on her knees and pressed her knuckles into her kneecaps. She looked like a lost child there, with her messy pigtails just all over the place and staring at him with wide eyes. "You were having a nightmare. You scared me."
"Oh, God." The realization suddenly dawned on him and he flicked on the bedside light to check her for bruises or marks. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. "Did I hit you in my sleep? I'm sorry, are you okay?"
He seemed so concerned; a stark dichotomy from what he was only a few moments prior. She brushed some stray hair behind her ears and leaned into his chest, pressing her forehead against muscle. "I'm okay." She traced a tattoo on his shoulder, trying to distract herself from the question on her mind. Rick had seen unfathomable things; what could he dream about that was so terrifying? "Was it Johtenheim again?"
How did she know him so well? The word itself sent an uncontrollable shiver down his spine, causing the muscles in his jaw to spasm. "Yeah." There was dead silence between them; nothing but the sound of cars on the street and an old streetlight that was buzzing. He didn't speak for a very long time, finding the words difficult. Licking his dry lips, he kissed her head and sighed, wrapping an arm around her body, holding her close. "I think it's time I tell you what happened. You are my therapist after all."
Harley shook her head. "No, Rick. I-I want to know, but not until you're ready, you know? I want it to be on your terms, not mine."
He sighed, smiling softly. "I'm ready."
The clown princess sat quietly while he explained what happened to him in Johtenheim; from the stabbing to waking up before surgery, to being put under and waking up with a scar that - she had to admit - looked sexy. But there was something about this vulnerable side of him that she hadn't seen before and she hadn't known how to react to it. So, like a little kid being told a bedtime story, she laid quietly with her head in his lap while he spoke about what happened, he stroked her hair to stay calm. His hand had a bit of a tremble to it, but she didn't mind. Eventually, she reached up to stop his hand, holding it to her cheek. "You're alive, Rick."
"Yeah." He whispered softly. "I guess I am."