Life and Death
Chapter 20

"History repeats itself
I didn't learn, I wouldn't listen
I couldn't see the books were on the shelf
For my concern, I never missed 'em"
- History (Repeats Itself) - A.O.S.

Harley blinked slowly towards the light, feeling the rough surface underneath her body. For a moment she expected to see a skylight above thick metal bars, but the ceiling was solid and dark, the only source of light being fluorescent lamps outside her cell.

She was dressed in a bleached orange attire and there were metal bars surrounding her, then bullet-proof glass. She didn't recognize it, but she knew it was not her old cell at that place. Reflexively, she put her hand on the back of her neck, feeling the old scar there. No, this was not the same, but her body was tense and her senses alert. He wasn't here. Something stirred in the back of her mind. Me and Mistah J plucked his eyes out.

"Hey," she called out, "What's this? Hello?"

She stood up, trying to peek outside. Then, she blinked to see a large figure stepping into the room, standing on the other side of the metal bars.

"Batsy! To what do I owe the pleasure?" Her body was bruised and stiff and she suddenly remembered him knocking her out against the floor, pouncing on her and pressing the air out of her body. She hid the discomfort with a smile. Then it hit her and she rushed forward to press her face against the bars, feeling slight electricity buzz through her skin. It was almost pleasurable, comfortably numbing.

"Where's Jay? What did ya do to her?"

She saw his eyes, as dark and sullen as ever, looking back at her from the other side.

"Isn't it selfish, Harleen?" His voice was low. "To bring a child into this?"

She stared back at him. "Isn't it selfish to have little side-kicks running around grown criminals, getting killed, Bat-brain?" she snapped back. "Bring her to me, I need to see her!"

"You're a danger to her. Child services will take care of her now."

"No, I'm not!" She slammed her fists against the bars, ignoring the electricity increasing as she slammed harder, voice rising. "Hey, Bat-brain! What are ya talkin' about? She's mine! What have you done to her?" Her head and body were stinging now, almost numbed.

"The Joker has been apprehended. It's over."

She bared her teeth. If he was in her cell, she would tear his mask off and she would have killed him with her bare hands.

"If you love her," Batman said, closer to the glass, his voice hard. "Do the right thing and let her go. Give her a chance to live another kind of life."

Something, a memory from long ago poked at the surface. You thought, what, that you could just have a normal life? We don't get normal.

She slammed her head into the bars until the electricity suddenly increased and the world exploded in a cascade of stars.

.

Harley lifted her head from the wall in the far end of the room, feeling the warmth seep into her hair. A dark spot explained the aching in her head. She felt like she was wrapped up in tin foil and bubble wrap all at once, but something refused to be muted.

She examined the guards posted outside her cell – they never left her alone for a moment – and she wanted to laugh at the whole situation. This was a breeze compared to that other place with the cage and the skylight. Not even cementing a solid wall around her would keep her in there for much longer.

She tried to remember the story, vaguely, because Mistah J loved it. Baby loved it too when she was little. It was something about a pig or a house. Someone blew the house down, and there was a wolf – or maybe a rabbit. The wolf power-sawed his way into her cell and she ran into his arms. She decided on the rabbit. They're cuter.

Straightening up, she called for one of the guards' attention and he warily turned around to face her, demonstratively holding his AK-47 in front of his chest.

"This is just a wolf house!" Harley argued. "I mean, the pig could blow it down, just like that! Huff and puff!"

The guards exchanged a look and Harley laughed, ignoring the aching in her head. "Come on, it's funny!"

They muttered something, turning away from her. She pouted and crossed her legs, pretending to study the hem of her vomit-colored shirt as she listened to their hushed voices. They were talking about her. She silently inched closer to the opening of the cell, slow and non-threatening.

"Can you believe she used to work here?" one of them muttered.

"Yeah, man. I heard she got knocked up by one of the patients, the craziest one. They didn't know until now."

"I know, heard they're keeping the kid in here as well."

Harley froze in the middle of a giggle. The guards stiffened and turned around.

"Jay," she mumbled. "Where's she? Is she sick? Where's she?"

"Calm down, Quinn."

"NO!"

The guards looked at each other again; she could read anxiousness starting to spread across their faces and it was amusing, but finally she broke through the bubble wrap. She realized it with half a giggle, they must have medicated her. Me-di-ca-t- e d … It must have been for a while too, because the bruises on her body had started fading.

She got up with one sudden movement and slammed her hands against the bars of her cell, making one of the guards jump.

"Where's my baby? Where did you put her? If ya don't tell me, I'll rip your throats out! I will, one by one."

One of the guards spoke in his walkie-talkie, calling for backup. Soon enough she was restrained again when the entire medical team came sprinting along with ten heavily armed guards, and she felt the sting of a needle in her arm. She had a few moments to study their faces – the looks that the guards exchanged, the sweat on the doctor's forehead. He talked to the nurses while they sedated her. She closed her eyes, beginning to drift away, pretending she was already gone.

"They need to relocate her as soon as possible - this place is a blinking target! I don't know what the administration is waiting for."

"I just wish they'd tell us," someone said, floating way above her. "Everyone's getting unruly -"

She couldn't fight the fuzziness spreading through her, invading her nerve system – she knew the name of the chemical compounds – and she saw her Puddin's face in front of her again. He's coming for us.

She felt it in the very core of herself, that somewhere her other half was waiting for her, planning.

It was alright. It was soft, like a child's hand on her forehead, like innocence and slaughter.

She smiled. With the thoughts of him, it felt like losing her consciousness on that table after the first electroshock treatment, and his hands were on the side of her face, stroking it gently. His eyes never left hers, and she was so close to him. She welcomed it, dove into it, accepted everything he wanted to give her.

In her feverish dream, there was a child, but the image distorted.

.

.

"I'd like to talk about your daughter today, Harley."

"Yeah?" Harley perked up, as the room materialized itself around her – she had not been aware of it or how she ended up chained to a chair, in a straightjacket, with a man in a white coat in front of her. He looked so utterly boring.

She grimaced, but he smiled politely and said something more, but she didn't catch it. "Come again?"

He adjusted his glasses. "How did you feel when she was born?"

"I was so happy, of course." She smiled bright at him. She'd show him just how friendly she could be. She wasn't a threat, no, no.

The psychiatrist scribbled something down. "Did you and... Mr. J plan to have a child?

She tilted her head to the side. "Nah. It just happened, ya know, Puddin' and I spent every night together when I came home from Belle Reve..."

The memories of the happy moments were there, the intensity of it, how he never left her alone for a moment. He was always next to her, his hands on her hips or around her waist. She had clung to him, drowning him in her over-flowing passion and affection, her makeup always smeared, he was smelling like her perfume and it had been perfect. Days entangled with him and he had touched her, held her, stayed inside of her for hours and hours -

Until that strange, new voice appeared in her head one day, the voice of Baby. It was jarring, and to make it go away, he slipped her the first pill -

She blinked quickly, taking a deep, shaky breath before she composed herself. She watched the shrink's expressions as closely as he was reading hers, and it was funny again.

"Did he want... I believe you said her name was - ?"

"Lucy," she hissed.

"Did Mr. J want to have Lucy?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What are ya sayin'?"

He was completely formal, scribbling in his notes. "Was he happy when she was born?"

Harley glared at him. "Of course he was!"

"Did he ever hurt her?"

Don't you get it? Harleen said coldly, suddenly appearing in her head. Her presence was sudden, making her skin crawl - it had been too long since she last paid any attention to her. He wants to know if you were forced to have the baby, or if Mistah J tried to kill it.

Harley made a violent movement. "Don't ever speak of Mistah J like that!" she shrieked, having wormed her straightjacket-bound body already half-way across the table when the guards rushed in to pull her back. They brought up the syringes, already tearing at her clothes.

"No, wait!" the psychiatrist called, making them stand back warily. "I'll ask another question."

Harley slumped down in her seat. "Where are you, baby?" she mumbled. "Mommy misses you so much."

Ask him, Harleen urged her on in her head - they were working towards the same goal again, something they rarely ever did anymore, and Harleen was forceful. Harley put on her nice face again.

"What do ya wanna know, Doctor?"

He looked through his notes, then back at her, motioning to the guards to stand back.

"Tell me more about Lucy, Harley. What was her childhood like?"

Harley leaned forward. "I'll tell ya whatever ya wanna know. If you do one teeny, tiny thing for me – let me see her. She must be so scared and afraid without her Mommy."

She saw the torn look in his eyes.

"Please," Harley begged. "She needs me!"

He cleared his throat. "I have not met your daughter, and I'm not authorized to make any decisions. I'm only here to do an evaluation on you before..."

"Before what?" She leaned forward. "Before you move me? Am I going back to that place, huh? Tell me!"

"I don't know."

"Then who do I need to talk to?" Harley struggled to lean ever further forward. "Amanda Waller?"

She studied his face closely and saw the tiniest of muscles around his eyes twitch, telling her what she needed to know.

Harleen was still watching, claws bared. She ached for Mistah J, and the rawness of her need made Harley's breathing speed up. She leaned back slightly, pouting, feeling the tears pool in her eyes.

"Please, mister. Do what you can. I'm just a mom who loves her baby. I'll cooperate, I'll do anything you say if you just let me see her. I'll be good!"

"I'll see what can be arranged," he said without meeting her eyes. She didn't trust him, but it was better than nothing.

After the session she let herself calmly be wheeled off to her cell, for once not struggling or messing with the guards, and Harleen took over.

She thought of Mistah J when she laid down on the mattress in her cell. She missed being able to climb her old cage, doing somersaults in the air, soothing herself to sleep like a spider in a nest. She stayed awake, the way she used to back in the days when it was just the two of them. She would keep herself up all night if she needed to, guarding him, gently coaxing him to sleep.

The years after Jaylie was born, Mistah J's sleeping got better, deeper. Jaylie, on the other hand, was restless. She slept in their bed the first month after being returned from her kidnappers, always uneasy. Harley would pick her up and hold her tightly, Mommy's not gonna let anyone hurt you, ever. Mommy will stab their eyeballs out. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it made her more frantic.

Mistah J used to ignore it, but sometimes he rolled over, forcing Jaylie to face him. It felt like they were here and Jaylie had woken up once again, trembling from another nightmare.

She saw him turning to her. "What's eatin' you, Pumpkin? Tell Daddy so he can get some sleep, or he'll kick you out of bed."

"Batsy," she gasped, "I was lost - "

He craned his head and growled quietly, before he pulled her closer, his face hovering above hers. His thumb stroked something away from her face.

"I'm the one that Gotham fears. Batsy's terrified –" he chuckled against her forehead. "- That I will pick up his little apprentice and play with him again. It would be too easy."

"Robin," she whispered, already calming down.

"That's right." He grinned, before giving her a chastising look. "So whatcha so tense for? Do ya want me to scare ya?"

"I'm not scared." Jaylie stuck out her chin defiantly.

"Oh, really?" He bared his teeth. "Then why are ya stiff like a corpse?"

"I'm just sleepy." He rolled his eyes, seeing through her act, but she didn't move away from him.

"Now shut it, Pumpkin." He rolled over onto his back, and Harley moved closer, gently squishing Jaylie in between them. Her breathing had slowed down. Harley kissed the tip of her nose, singing quietly to her about bats and mockingbirds.

Now, here in the cell, Mistah J was lying next to her on the narrow mattress, and Harley raised her hand to gently stroke his green tresses out of his face. Her body wound itself around him like it remembered to, fitting his perfectly, and she breathed deeply of his scent.

He pushed her into the plastic material for a moment, chuckling against her neck. She fell asleep listening to his breathing that slowly faded away.

.

.

.

Amanda Waller closed the folder in front of her. "This is the situation we have."

Rick Flag stared at her. "You can't be serious. Just let the CPS handle it. I'm a soldier, not a nurse." He looked over to the social secretary who scribbled something down in her notes. "Isn't it against the law to incarcerate a kid anyway?"

"She's too dangerous; she needs to be handled by trained professionals."

"She's what, eleven?"

"Rick," Amanda said, her eyes and voice cutting through him. "This is the kid of two insane criminals. She will provide invaluable insight on how they operate, and why she didn't die of neglect years ago. She's been caught on security tapes all over the city – she's guilty of both manslaughter and robbery, all on her own."

"How do you know she's theirs? What if they kidnapped and brainwashed her? Hell, did you even think -"

"We have stored DNA from the Joker from Arkham. It's a clear match to the girl's." Amanda gave him a wry smile, cold as always. "I doubt anyone but Harley Quinn would be the other half in that equation, but that is still a possibility. We will find out soon enough, once her DNA results are back. I have her too, in my safe keep."

Rick wouldn't even try to question the legality of that fact. "So you want me to question Quinn? Or the kid?"

"We can't get them to say anything of substance - it is not reliable in any case. The girl's not talking either, and it's her information we need. With whatever methods necessary. There might be other children out there, hidden away. You have worked with Harley Quinn - use that to get to the girl. I want information about the other girl as well - Zoe Lawton, who was with her at the time of her arrest. You know her father."

Rick tried to contain the words he wanted to shout at her. "I don't know any of them, I was responsible for them for a couple of missions."

"Deadshot went missing about a month ago. Zoe Lawton disappeared after police dropped her off at home, three weeks ago. He might be hiding her and I want her in for questioning."

Rick couldn't hold back a chuckle of irritation. "This isn't about the kid, is it? You don't care about saving lives. You just want your information, so you can get your taskforce back in action. Because Quinn is a valuable asset? Well, she's not anymore."

Amanda looked at him. Rick tensed when he understood – he had been working for her long enough to know.

"You want to use the girl, don't you? A perfect little replacement for Quinn - a kid who officially doesn't even exist? Another scumbag metahuman?"

"We'll help," June Moone interrupted.

They all looked at her, Rick shocked. "June!"

She ignored him, turning to Amanda Waller. "If it's the same girl I met… I could talk to her. She trusted me."

Rick shook his head. "June, what are you talking about? She's too dangerous!"

"With your assistance, there is no need for me to bring your wife back to Arkham for yet another psychological evaluation," Waller reminded them calmly, the shadow of a smile hinting on her lips. "Only I can assure them that the Enchantress really is gone."

Rick held back a curse.

"You need to remember," Amanda said, looking at June. "The girl has committed murders in cold blood. Joker and Harley Quinn created a very effective tool to continue their ways. She will be treated like a criminal."

June nodded, then turned to Rick. "I remember Harley Quinn. We don't know what really happened since then."

He tried not to raise his voice at her. "Do you know what happened at that Arkham breakout that got the Joker back on the streets? Do you know how many people died because she decided to help him? No one who's sane in the head does that. She's the worst kind of criminal."

"I'll talk to the girl," June said again, and Amanda Waller smiled.

TO BE CONTINUED.

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