A/N: This one is quite different from the original – I like it a lot more.

Chapter Three: Safe

"You're all being ridiculous."

"Barbs come on –"

"Completely stupid –"

"Hey, it wasn't my idea –"

"Shut up Dick, you're as bad as Tim in this –"

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

"Be quiet, all of you." Bruce didn't look at any of them as he pulled Harley from the car. Alfred waited by a table with first-aid supplies, the lights in the Batcave much brighter than normal. He placed the unconscious woman gently on the bed and watched her head loll to the side. He noticed the bleeding had finally stopped as Alfred pulled off his temporary bandages, but the injuries were looking even worse than they had when Batman and Robin had first found her. Alfred immediately began cleaning her up, and Bruce tried not to think about the look of shock on the older man's face.

When he finally faced them, Barbara had her arms folded and was glaring at all three of them. "You can't even be considering this."

"I am." Bruce answered shortly, walking straight past her to the Batcomputer and typing Harley's name into the database. Immediately, three files came up: one for her crimes, one for her diagnostics and behaviour at Arkham, and one simply titled 'Harleen Quinzel'. He clicked on the second file, vaguely recognising Barbara's voice behind him as the young woman continued to voice her displeasure. Harley's face appeared on the screen, and Bruce grimaced slightly as he recognised the photo. The first time Harley had been arrested had been a difficult day for everyone.

"Are you even listening to me?" Barbara moved to stand next to him, and, for a moment, he thought she might unplug the computer.

"No," he said bluntly. Luckily for him, she left his computer alone and merely pulled off her cowl. She looked even angrier without it on, and Bruce winced internally as he felt the beginning of a migraine form. He continued scrolling through Harley's file until he found what he was looking for.

"Bruce, this is the worst idea any of you have ever come up with. Do you have any idea how dangerous she is?" Barbara didn't even look at the screen as Bruce scanned the writing. "She's escaped Arkham four times, not to mention the number of times she's broken in –"

"Certificate of competency?" Tim interrupted as he read what was on the file. "I didn't know Harley got one of them."

Dick nodded. "Three years ago – she was out for a while, but some stuff happened and she got sent back." He grimaced slightly, and Bruce remembered the 'kidnapping' of Veronica Vreeland that had caused the incident. "Pretty sure she hit you with a mannequin arm," he added.

"It was an interesting day," Bruce allowed.

"That makes no difference," Barbara snapped. "A stupid certificate from years ago doesn't mean she's cleared to live in your house."

"Exactly, Barbara. My house." Bruce finally looked at her, his words only making her angrier.

"What's she even going to be doing here?" She demanded.

"Going through rehabilitation," he replied evenly, aware of Dick and Tim's eyes on him. "Arkham clearly is having no effect on her and the Joker will be there soon. This is her best chance at recovery."

"Alfred!" Barbara spun to face the butler, who looked up from the unconscious form of Harley Quinn. "You agree that this is insane, don't you?"

He gave her a long look before replying. "Miss Gordan, this young woman is in no state to stay in a place such as Arkham Asylum – or, heaven forbid it, Belle Reve. It may be insanity, but perhaps in this case it would be the most productive course of action."

"I can't believe all of you." Barbara looked at her watch quickly, before staring at the four men in disgust. "I'm going back on duty, don't cry to me when she sticks a knife in your leg while you're playing Happy Families." She walked off without letting them respond – not that Bruce would have bothered to anyway.

"Hey, wait for me!" Tim called, but Batgirl had already stormed out of sight. Shaking his head, Tim patted Bruce on the back and smiled. "It'll be okay, she'll be safe here." Tim and Dick said their goodnights quickly, before the younger boy followed Barbara out of the Batcave.

Bruce leaned his elbows on the table in front of him, massaging his temples. While he had anticipated Barbara's resistance to his idea, he wasn't expecting her to feel quite so strongly about the situation, especially when she wasn't technically involved – clearly a, very rare, miscalculation. If anything went badly, the blame would fall solely on Bruce Wayne and the Batman. It was an uncomfortable thought.

He looked up to see Dick unzip his suit, revealing his back. To Bruce's surprise, there were several scars, both old and almost fresh, littering the younger man's skin. "Where did you get those?"

To his credit, Dick didn't pretend not to know what he meant. "Shit happens."

Alarm bells began ringing in Bruce's head, but he pushed them again, unwilling to let it go. "Shit like what?"

He still didn't turn around, but he muscles of Dick's back were noticeably more tense as he pulled on his shirt. "Does it matter?"

"Of course it does," Bruce replied immediately. "Is there something wrong with your suit? I can ask Lucius to take a look at it – "

"You really don't get it." Dick finally turned around to face his former mentor. "The suit is fine, I don't need your help."

Bruce's eyes narrowed as he stared down his ward. "If you're getting unnecessarily injured, maybe you do."

"Oh for –" The younger man's fists clenched. "I'm twenty-one, give it a rest. We get hurt, it's a part of the job. Doesn't mean I'm bad at it."

"I didn't say that you were." Bruce replied impatiently. "But you're –"

"Forget it." Dick cut across him shortly. "I don't wanna hear about this. I'm going to bed." He stormed off, leaving Bruce to call after his retreating back.

"If you don't want to be here, why did you come back?"

Dick froze where he was for a few moments, before turning to face Bruce, an uncharacteristically sarcastic look on his face. "You think I came here for you? I never had a relationship with Jason – Tim's my brother too." His eyes lost their anger for a moment, replaced with sadness, before he disappeared from sight.

Bruce let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding in. In the three years since Dick had left Gotham to become Nightwing, their relationship hadn't managed to repair itself. Even Jason's death hadn't been enough to bring the two together, and Bruce wondered if anything could at this point.

Pushing down the small lump in his throat, Bruce turned back to Harley. Alfred had done an excellent job with her injuries, and several bandages were wrapped around her arms, legs and stomach. She looked like a china doll now – a very damaged one, that was. The older man stood beside her, inspecting his handiwork as Bruce approached. "Master Wayne, would you please carry Dr Quinzel upstairs?" He nodded quickly and picked the woman up, marvelling slightly at how little she weighed. They trailed up the stairs towards the manor quietly, before Bruce finally voiced his thoughts.

"Do you think this will go well?"

"On the contrary, sir, I feel that there is a very good chance of this ending very badly indeed – for all involved." Bruce opened his mouth to speak, but the elderly butler silenced him with a look. "I don't mean you're doing the wrong thing. The manor is far better for her than either of those ghastly places. But I fear this could have any number of disastrous consequences."

"Trust me, I've thought of about fifty thousand." Bruce murmured, looking down at the young woman in his arms.

"Then you have a mere one hundred thousand more to think of," Alfred replied drily, looking back to check on Harley. "The medication you've given her does not seem to be easing her pain."

Bruce's chest clenched as he shifted her slightly, knowing how much pain she must already be in. "I didn't, she passed out from the pain hours ago." At Alfred's look of horror, he quickly backtracked. "She's immune to poisons and toxins – painkillers don't work on her." He tried not to remember the few times he had been in enough pain to lose consciousness, and held her a tiny bit more securely as they climbed up the stairs.

They were silent as they crossed the corridor and Alfred opened the door to a spare bedroom for him. It was large enough not to be claustrophobic and close enough to Bruce's own room that he would be able to reach her quickly if the situation called for it. "I'll go over the security for the manor in the morning. I've been meaning to upgrade them for a few weeks."

"I do believe this will be the first time we have increased security in order to keep someone inside," Alfred commented. Bruce didn't reply as he placed her gently on the bed. It quickly dwarfed her tiny frame as he pulled the covers over her. He looked at her as she lay there, and a fleeting feeling of protectiveness welled up in his chest. She looked so small and harmless, so innocent, that he had to remind himself that this was a woman who had committed horrendous crimes, despite appearing, at that moment, that she would never even hurt a fly. Bruce pulled his gaze away and quickly left the room, more than slightly confused by his sudden desire to protect her.

"I'll deal with Barbara – she'll come around eventually." He made sure the door was locked firmly as they closed it behind them. "I'm going to finish patrol. Contact me if anything happens." He turned to leave, before Alfred's voice stopped him.

"If I may, Master Wayne, today has been a taxing one for us all. Perhaps you have earned a rest for the rest of the night?"

"Crime doesn't stop when one deserves a break, Alfred." The butler nodded sadly, watching the younger man's back retreat as he returned to the Batcave.

A/N: Hope you liked it!