The Dark Knight and all its contents are the copyright of the Nolan Brothers and Warner Bros. I own nothing.

Tide

Chapter 2.

"It's better to be good than evil, but one achieves goodness at a terrific cost." -Stephen King

It was getting late, but Harley couldn't sleep. The blue light emanating from her television filled up her small apartment and hypnotized her, making her eyes grow heavier and heavier, but still she would not sleep. Whenever she felt herself begin to drift off, she experienced a sensation of falling that would jolt her back to life. As a child she'd often have dreams of falling, especially after her mother died. Nowadays, it was only the sensation of falling before sleep. She didn't dream anymore.

Harley got up from the comfort and warmth of her couch and headed for the kitchen, almost tripping over her cat as she went. She steadied herself by gripping the counter, looking down at him with dismay. He looked up at her blankly, stretching his paws further out before him as he yawned.

"Mister Jingles," she said, bending over to pick him up. "How many times have I told you to stop laying in the middle of the floor? You know I never pay attention to where I'm going. Are you trying to kill me?" She buried her face deep in his fur and he purred contentedly.

Maybe she should feel embarrassed about giving her cat a surname, but if you were to take one glance at her apartment, you'd quickly realize that Harley has much more to be embarrassed about than a silly name for her cat. She still kept her old stuffed animals for Christ's sake. But who was she trying to impress? She's never had a boyfriend, and besides Eddy who occasionally comes over to check up on her, no friends. She had a family with those boys once upon a time, but the world has moved on. Eddy was all she had left.

Mister Jingles gave out a quiet grunting sound and tried to escape from her grasp. Harley shook her head, bringing herself back to reality. If the world had moved on, so would she.

She put him down and walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge to find something to snack on. Harley tried to eat whenever she could. She was tiny, built almost like a small girl -If it weren't for her waist, like a small boy. Eddy was always the first to remind her. He'd comment on her weight constantly, and bring her fast food whenever he'd come around. She hated the stuff, but she'd shovel it down regardless. She always dreamed about having bigger breasts, curvy thighs, an ass... But she knew she was just kidding herself. She'd always be little Harleen Quinzel, with not an ounce of fat on her body.

She sighed heavily, shut the fridge, and grabbed a bag of chips from the counter instead before plopping herself back down on the couch. She lazily flipped through different channels, shoveling hand fulls of chips into her mouth. Again, who the hell did she have to impress? After five minutes of deliberation, she decided to watch the news. There was a world outside of her small apartment and the hospital she worked at downtown, and this was the only way she could experience it.

She didn't get out much, not anymore.

The newscaster was a busty brunette with perfect hair and perfect makeup. Her voice was sultry and forced, and she smirked and nodded at the camera after every report she gave. Harley snorted, annoyed, and folded up her bag of chips before placing them down on the coffee table. She'd clean up in the morning, but for now all she wanted to do was let her television lull her to sleep.

Harley could no longer sleep in her own bedroom. It was too empty, too quiet. The only way she could fall asleep anymore was by watching television or listening to music. She's slept on the couch for the last nine months, and the thought of actually sleeping in a bed scared her. It was the falling sensation. It was always so much worse when she was laying down. At least on the couch she could sit up, and when she'd startle herself awake before hitting the ground in her mind, -splat, game over- she'd open her eyes and a familiar face would be staring back at her from the TV. It was comforting.

"U.S. stocks rose modestly Friday," stated the busty brunette, smirking yet again for the camera. "Yet optimism over upbeat corporate earnings has been tempered by signs the economy could be entering a slow period..."

Harley felt her eyes grow heavy.

"An Atlanta hospital notifies hundreds of people about possible exposure to tuberculosis..."

Harley heard what sounded like chimes ringing in her ears, and felt a pull from her head to her toes. Her eyes closed. She smelt something metallic.

"...There is still no sign of the criminal clown who robbed a bank in downtown Gotham last week..."

Suddenly, she could smell him. Spice, cigarettes. Musk. Slowly, she felt her body begin to fall.

"...Police state that they will continue their search. However, no fingerprints were left at the scene of the crime. Though they were able to identify the deceased robbers found at the scene, none are linked together. Police are baffled..."

Then she saw him. He was up on the roof, the same roof where she saw him for the last time, and he was looking back at her. Regret was written all over his face, and he made no effort to hide it. She could see how sorry he was. How he knew he had fucked everything up. He looked away from her and started walking toward the edge. Panic struck her, but she couldn't move. Couldn't speak. She was paralyzed. She wanted him to know that it wasn't his fault, that it was hers, that she was the one who was helpless to save him. She fucked up.

"...People are calling him The Clown Prince of Crime..."

As he gets closer to the edge, she can't breathe. She tries to yell out. He doesn't turn around to look at her as he raises a foot over the edge. She can no longer smell him. All she can smell is something metallic, and it's making her feel sick to her stomach. The chimes she hears are maddening. She also hears a woman speaking somewhere off in the distance. She's saying something about a clown, but it doesn't make sense.

"...He is armed and dangerous..."

He looks back at her one last time. She hears the chimes, hears the woman speaking from somewhere far away, but when he opens his mouth to speak, she can't hear what he's saying. Her head is pounding. The chimes are so damn loud, and he's speaking to her but she can't hear a word. Then, without warning, he lets himself fall.

"...If you see this man..."

She tries to scream out, but she is falling as well. As she drops, her stomach rises into her throat and she is completely and utterly helpless.

"...Contact police immediately."

She jolts awake, gasping for breath until suddenly she is unable to breathe again. Her eyes meet his. Jack. He is staring directly at her from the television with those eyes that she could never mistake, never in a million years. They were his.

But the face was not.

She is looking at a clown with horrible scars, terrifying makeup, and Jack's eyes. She feels her heart drop. Is she so pathetic that she will actually try to search for his eyes in everything, including this monster? Her eyes begin to tear up before spilling over, and she feels her body go completely numb. Her heart is slow, and she can't breathe. Can you even call this crying? She is sobbing. It is heart-wrenching, despairing, and she is so pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. She feels alone. Her eyes are so bleary that she can no longer see, and all she knows is that she is crying, pathetic, and alone.

She gets up and grabs her phone off the kitchen counter. She doesn't want to be a bother, but she needs to call Eddy. She can no longer stand this loneliness. This despair. She tries to calm herself before dialing his number. After a few deep breaths, she calls him.

The phone rings three times before Eddy picks up. "Hello?" His voice is groggy and confused. "Harley, is that you?"

She can't say anything. No words will come out because she's too busy trying to contain herself. She is desperately trying to hold herself together so that she doesn't break completely.

She hears what sounds like him quickly sitting up in bed. "Harley, say something," he says. He no longer sounds dazed, because now he is wide awake. "What's wrong? You're worrying me for fuck's sake."

"Eddy..." She starts swallowing her breaths. She can't force out anymore words because she's sobbing again.

"I'll be there in ten minutes, Harls. Please wait for me."

He hangs up, and Harley lets the phone drop from her fingertips. She just stands there, sobbing.

She can still see him up on that roof. What he mouthed to her... she finally knows what he was trying to say over all that noise before he let himself fall.

"You have to let me go."

And then she begins wailing.