Oh, god. This is a bad idea, but what the heck, she thought, I frickin Harley Quinn. She swerved away from the man's hand on her back and jumped over her hands. The chain between them worked as a strangulation device, and he soon fell unconscious.
She grabbed the gun from his belt and continued on, looking for more prisoners. She continued down the long hallway, trying to see through the old, broken, blackened glass. She heard a thump from behind her, and she turned the gun towards the general area of the sound.
"Are you… who I think… you are?" The voice was raspy, and the face hidden by the dirtied glass. It took gasps of air between words. "You… look familiar. Um… Arkham? Are… you from Arkham Asylum?"
"Who wants to know?" Harley cocked her eyebrow, as well as the gun.
"You wouldn't remember me. It was… a long time ago. But, perhaps you… do remember? I am… Doctor Stellora Xandra… or, "Stitches", if you remember that…" Harley watched as the black was somewhat cleared off as the figure slowly slid down the glass, her arm creating a streak of clear-ish glass.
"Wait, Stellora? You're one of my former clients from Experimental Confinement: Arkham Division, right? You were my client because you were going crazy because of Puddin', just like me. I thought you committed suicide in the lab."
The woman gave a long, dry sigh. "No. That's what my… advisors wanted the other departments to believe. They sent... me to The Joker. And he put me... in a sleep, much like your's, but I was... not so easily sadated. They locked me up, and... left me to rot here. You won't believe how quiet it is, how peaceful, it makes me want.. to just sleep… but the AI won't let me."
"The AI? What do you mean?" Harley put a hand on the glass and crouched next to it, her height now matching the experimental victim. "What were they doing it that lab?"
"Can you… get me out? The air in here... it's almost toxic. It doesn't help... my current state very much. I would be... much obliged, Dr. Harleen. I really missed you, just so you know. I remember the first time... we went out to lunch together… the day they certified me as sane, and then... recalled it when I began to dissect... that stray cat? Remember? You were the one... who turned me back into Arkham!"
Doctor Xandra continued talking, and Harley tried to find a way to open the chamber. She found a panel next to the glass, and pulled the lever. The glass grinded apart, and Stellora stopped her story and breathed in the air.
"That's nice… Thank you, Harley."
"Don't mention it, Stitch. You know, that nickname suits you even better now, huh?" Harley smiled, and helped the other woman stand up.
"Why do... I still like you, Quinzel?"
"Obsession, Obsessions, hard to get away from." Harley sang softly.
"True that. So, can you... reboot my systems so I can, you know, function?"
"Of course, Puddin!" She smiled, then looked Stitch up and down. "Um, how do I do that?"
"My back, obviously." Stitch watched as Harley smiled.
"Oh… Kay? Um, how do I, you know, reach that? You're kinda clothed."
"Oh, Harley... shut up."
"What? It kinda makes it hard." Stitch rolled her eyes and untied her vest.
"God, I hate you." She pulled off the leather and turned so Harley could see her back. "Just unzip the shirt, because I am not... getting half naked... in front of you, you crazy nutso."
"Aw, man. Fine…" Harley unzipped the t-shirt's back and found a small panel between her shoulder blades.
"Ok, so press the blue button, and then the green one. Do Not press the pink one."
"What's the pink one do?"
"Harley!" Stitches looked over her shoulder at the other woman.
"Okay, Okay, Jeez." Harley pressed the two buttons, and she saw Stellora shiver.
"Your hands are frickin cold. Okay, you can put my shirt back together now." Harley rolled her eyes and zipped the shirt up again. While Stitch retied her vest, corset style, Harley decided to dance a little, because, you know, Harley Quinn.
Stitch finished tying her vest and turned to look at the dancing Harley. "You really are crazy, now, ain't cha?" Stitch smiled, stopped her, and gave her a hug. "I like that. Looks like we have more than The Joker and Arkham in common now." Harley hugged her with one arm, and then looked up at the flashing lights.
"Uh, Stitch? What do those mean?" She pointed to the spinning glow with the gun.
"We should go, is what those mean." Stitch's leg glowed a bright blue, and then her right arm. "Come on, Harl. On my back."
"What? You really are screwed in the head, aren't you, puddin?" Harley put a hand on her hip and smiled her huge, jester smile.
"Believe it. Get on, now! They're coming!" They heard a door at the other end of the hall burst open, and Harley jumped onto Stellora."Hold tight, Harls. It's gonna get electric up in here." Before Harley even knew what was happening, Stitch took off out of the cell, down the hall, through the doors, and out into the main room.
Stellora could run faster than she looked capable of, as well as faster than any person Quinn had ever met. The robotic technology and removal of various "unnecessary" body parts had rendered her a living tank. Most of her body parts were either completely AI controlled, or attached to her brain in some way, shape, or form that was unnatural. Her various scars, lights, and stitches were the result of two years of scientific AI studies and implants. So, basicly, she had two brains.
"So, uh, Stitch? How are you?" Harley finally said after she got used to the speed. Another ten bullets flew past them.
"Not a good time to talk, Quinn!" She looked up at Harley, and gave her a look.
"Right, right, the guards." Harley turned as far as she could and began to shoot back at the guards, hitting a few in the knee (really getting old reference (TROLL) ), a few in the arm, a few in the head. "Right now, you know what I want, Puddin? My bazooka. Or my babies. Or both!" Stellora looked up at Harley again.
"Harl, shut up and shoot them! This place is a freaking maze. Stop talking and let me concen-!" She was cut off as she slammed into a wall because she'd been talking, and they both blacked out.