Ivy waved the cab off and turned down the deserted road to her humble home. Her head was pleasantly tingly and she felt in good spirits. Maybe Selina was right, after all. So what if Harley had gone back to Joker? She'd leave him soon enough, and then she and Selina might have another chance to convince her to stay away from him. Besides, with Harley back at the amusement park, Ivy could direct her energy entirely on her work; no distractions, no "girls' days" spent out in the city surrounded by people. Nothing but Dr. Pamela Isley and her plants. Just the way she liked it. Tomorrow was going to be an important day too, she needed to focus on the vault in order to get in before the small window she had closed.
She walked through the neighborhood, delighting in the scent and color of fresh, fragrant blossoms. The night air was warm, with a hint of spring sweetness. She let it sweep around her, breathing in deeply to drown her senses. The heat and heady air combined with the drink, making her dizzy, and she hurried to her door for an escape. Once inside, the dizziness faded. She changed into an oversized sleep shirt and checked the incubator—her fungus was mature enough to last out the wait in the seed vault on its own. Ivy ran through the plan once more, making sure nothing was overlooked.
A soft knocking interrupted her attention. At first she wasn't sure she'd even heard it—who would be knocking on her door? No one could even survive the trek through the neighborhood to get to her door. No one but… Harley. The knock came again; just as soft, but with a greater urgency. Ivy ran to the door and pulled it open. There stood Harley, leaning heavily on the doorframe, one hand over her face. Her clothes were dirty and her hands filthy, covered in grit and…was that dried blood?
"Pammy." Harley muttered before collapsing into Ivy's arms.
Catwoman crouched on a rooftop, a rangefinder to one eye. She watched through the window of a penthouse apartment across the park from her. Batman swooped down silently behind her. "What are you planning?"
Selina jumped at the unexpected voice. "God damn it. I nearly fell off the roof." She spun round to give him a dirty look.
"You would have landed on your feet." His voice was flat, face stern.
He thinks he's so god damn clever. "What do you want?"
"You knew Harley was breaking Joker out of Arkham, but you didn't tell me."
She shifted her weight, offended at the topic. "I'm not saying I knew, but even if I did, why would I tell you?"
"So I could stop her."
"You think you can stop Harley from rescuing that asshole every time he gets locked up? That's an exercise in futility. Trust me, I know all about that."
"Selina." His voice sharpened.
"What Bruce? It's what they do! Every time you put him away, she breaks him out. Why do I need to tell you it's going to happen?"
"You did know, then?" Batman stood statuesque.
Selina huffed. "I heard rumors, but I didn't know. People always talk."
"Then why did you go out to celebrate with Poison Ivy?"
Selina slouched in exasperation. "We weren't celebrating. We were commiserating."
"What were you so upset about?"
She scoffed. "For the 'world's greatest detective' you sure can't tell when a woman's in love." Bruce stared at her, not following her thread. Selina sighed heavily. "Ivy's in love with Harley. We were drinking to drown the demons of loves with…existing commitments." Bruce flexed his jaw. It was a subtle movement, but Selina noticed. She turned back to the building across the way. "Now if you don't mind, I've got some work to do."
"Not tonight."
Selina smirked and spoke over her shoulder. "Are you going to stop me?" She turned around, hoping for flirtation. But Batman was gone. Selina mocked, "Can't let anyone in, I've got to be pensive on rooftops all alone."
"Harley!" Ivy carried Harley as best she could over to the bed. Pamela pulled her wig off and finally got a good look at her face. Her lip was split and there was dried blood smeared across her chin. The whole right side of her face was a deep crimson and her eye was nearly swollen shut. Her white grease paint was smeared in strange patches. A long, thin purple bruise stretched around her throat. "Harley, honey, what happened to you?" She was unconscious though. Pamela let her rest while she collected supplies to clean her up.
Ivy scrubbed the blood from her chin. The cloth came back covered in tan makeup. Harley's cover up makeup wiped off, revealing the white skin beneath. Why would she wear makeup over her grease paint? Pam was confused, but she focused on washing the dirt and grime from Harley's wounds. She got fresh water and a clean cloth to wipe around her swollen eye. Harley whimpered and swatted softly in her sleep. "Shh." Ivy gently took her hand and replaced it across her stomach. Harley fussed again. "I'm not going to hurt you. It's okay, Harl." She settled down with the sound of Pamela's voice. "Let's see about making you some poultices for these bruises."
Ivy went to work harvesting blossoms and barks to make tinctures. She spread the cool mixture over Harley's neck and wrapped it with bandages to allow it to soak into her skin. "I can't promise it will help the pain very much, but it should at least heal a bit faster. Now let me look at that eye of yours." Ivy spoke gently, knowing Harley was in too deep a sleep to hear her. But Pam's voice seemed to calm Harley's body and ease her protests. Carefully, Ivy dabbed the paste around Harley's eye.
"These clothes need to come off, Harl. I'll get you something clean and more comfortable." Ivy pulled one of Harley's old button up shirts from her closet. Before removing her clothes, Pam cleaned the blood from Harley's hands. She hoped that at least some of what she scrubbed away wasn't Harley's. If you're going to take a beating like this, I hope you at least gave some of what you got.
Ivy lifted her carefully, removing the blouse she had on. Her torso was snow white. That wasn't makeup; something was very wrong. What happened in the months she'd been away? "Oh, Harl, please be okay." Pamela pulled the fresh shirt on and buttoned it up just above her cleavage. She remembered that Harley never did the top buttons unless she had to, had always said it was too constricting. Pam smirked, recalling Harley's commentary. "Besides, I gotta show off the girls. They're too good not to!" Ivy ran a knuckle down the curve of Harley's chest as she fixed the shirt. "They're not bad, that's for sure." She pulled off Harley's shoes and undid her pants. Bereft of her dirty clothes and as clean as possible, Pamela pulled the blanket up over Harley and tucked her in. Sighing, she settled for sleep next to Harley's small body. "I hope you can tell me what happened to you in the morning."
Ivy woke to find Harley's arm wrapped tight around her ribs. The girl's head was on her shoulder, blonde hair tickling Pamela's nose. She smoothed the hair down and Harley settled deeper into the touch. Pam sighed. There was no getting up with Harley so entangled, and she didn't have the heart to move her, so Ivy resigned herself to a morning in bed. She draped one arm around Harley's shoulders and took a book from her nightstand. Propping it on Harley's arm, she dug into it.
Harley slept for another few hours. As she began to wake, she whined softly and squeezed Ivy tightly. Pamela came to a stopping point in her book and set it down, waiting for Harley to wake.
"Good morning, Harl." The girl cringed and pressed hard into Ivy's shoulder. "Come on, Harley, you've got to get up. I need to tend to your wounds."
She cried. "My head feels like it's been split in two."
"From your bruises, I'm not at all surprised. It looks like you took one hell of a beating. Harley, hun, what happened?"
Harley frowned, emotionally torn. She longed to tell Pammy the truth about everything that had happened; how Joker had beaten her, that she'd run straight to her. She wanted to tell her about that night when she fell, about how it had hurt like fire stripping her to the bone. She hadn't told anyone about the pain, about what she felt that night. No one had even asked. Pulling her in the other direction was an irrational fear that Pamela would reject her, would judge her. She couldn't stomach the thought of Pam thinking she was some dumb kid who could nothing right. What would Harley do if Pammy deemed her unworthy?
"Harley?" Ivy's voice was gentle with a tone of worry.
No, Pammy would never treat her like that. Pam cared too much for her to cast her aside. Harley sighed, slowing down her thoughts. She pondered where she should start. "I got Joker out of Arkham yesterday."
Ivy nodded. "Selina told me."
Harley slumped. "I guess everybody knew then? Why didn't Bats try to stop me?"
"Because Selina didn't tell anyone but me." Ivy explained.
"Oh." Harley shrugged. "I got him out, real quiet-like, no alarms or guards, nothing. But he didn't like my plan, said it wasn't good enough. It was stupid and he was better than that."
"So… he hit you?!" Pamela shot up off the bed, her blood boiling.
Harley quailed. "My plan wasn't good enough for Mistah J, so he let me know."
"I am going to murder that god damn clown. If he thinks he can treat you like that… He thinks he knows what a beating is…oh, I am going to flay him and roast him over a fire. But first I'm going to break every bone in his scrawny body."
"Pammy, please. Don't hurt him. I love him."
Ivy trembled with rage. She fought against it, sitting on the bed next to Harley. Scowling at the swollen redness of her bruising, Pamela stared into her bright blue eyes. "Harleen Quinzel you promise me that you will never go back to that man ever again."
Harley was taken aback; when was the last time someone had called her by that name? Pam didn't have to worry though, she'd made up her mind this time. "Don't worry, Red, I'm not going back to him."
"You promise me, Harley."
Harley looked into her green eyes, blazing with intensity, and smiled. "I promise, Pammy. But please, just…leave him alone. I don't want him to hurt you too." She pleaded.
"Oh, Harl, he won't hurt me." Ivy smiled menacingly, her eyes flashing with a dark fire. "I've got his number."
The sinister look fell from her face. "But if that's what you want, I'll leave it. If he tries to pull some shit though, if he tries to do anything else to you, I will beat him like he's never been beaten." Harley sighed. Pamela was too fierce a woman to not defend the people she cared about. Ivy collected herself. "So Joker did all this to you? Your eye, your lip." She paused, passing a worrying look over Harley's throat. "Your neck."
Harley hunched over, shame weighing her shoulders down. "Yeah."
"Alright." Pamela wasn't going to dwell on it. "Harley, why is your skin white? What happened?"
Harley sunk more into herself. "You remember how they were supposed to get rid of all the chemicals that made Mistah J?"
"Yes."
"Well, they didn't. My Puddin' was gonna dunk Batman in it. He was gonna make the Bat just like him." Harley stopped and chuckled softly as a realization settled around her. "His plan wouldn't have even worked. I'm not crazy. It wasn't the chemicals, it was him." Her laughter grew into a hysterical fit.
Ivy looked at her confused. "Harley what are you talking about?"
Harley choked back her laughter until she could speak. "Mistah J was gonna make Batsy just as crazy as he is. That was gonna be his greatest scheme. Batman made him, and he was gonna unmake Batman. I messed it up though. I thought Bats was gonna shoot him. So I swung down to stop it and I fell instead." Harley laughed victoriously. "But I didn't come out crazy. His plan didn't even work."
"It bleached your skin. When did that happen?"
Harley slouched, she should have told Pam earlier. "A month ago."
"Harley, why didn't you tell me?!"
Harley looked away; she'd told herself it was to keep Pam from worrying about her. The reality was that she was embarrassed about making such a foolish mistake and was afraid Pamela would chastise her. "I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to worry, I was fine. I didn't…" Her voice dropped off.
"You thought I'd think less of you?" Pamela finished the thought for her. Harley's cheeks reddened, exposing the truth of her guess. "Harley." Ivy lifted the girl's chin with a soft touch, forcing Harley to look into her eyes as she spoke. "Nothing will make me think poorly of you."
Harley smiled crookedly. "Thanks, Red."
Pamela's gaze softened, lingering on Harley. "Let's have breakfast."
Harley collapsed on the bed. "My head feels like it's about to explode."
"Food will help," Ivy insisted.
Harley whined. "But chewing hurts." She frowned, thinking for the first time about the length of time healing was going to take.
"I'll do what I can, Harl." Ivy went to the kitchen to make smoothies for the both of them.
Harley had difficulty moving around. Her legs were sore and tired, her swollen face made it hard to see properly, and the concussion she'd clearly suffered caused violent spells of dizziness. All of this was underlined by an ever-present headache. Ivy tried to convince her to go to the hospital, a doctor, anything. Harley refused, insisting that it wasn't worth it. The most she'd get from the effort would be a couple of prescriptions for the pain and dizziness. With every cop in the city ready to bring her in for breaking out Joker, it wasn't worth the risk. Compounding the issue, was explaining her skin.
So they spent the afternoon in the house, Poison Ivy acting as nurse. Harley leaned heavily on Pam's shoulder, drifting off frequently. "Just lay down, Harley. It'll be more comfortable."
"Ya sure, Pammy?"
"Yes. Just lay your head in my lap, it'll be less stress on your neck and probably help your headache."
Harley readjusted, laying her head on Ivy's thigh. It was soft and warm, Harley settled into it quickly. Ivy stroked her blonde hair gently. "Rest if you need it."
"Whatever you say, Red." Harley's voice sounded wispy, sleep already taking hold.
Ivy smiled, her fingers playing idly through Harley's hair. She'd missed the company of someone else in her space. Truthfully, she'd missed Harley. Now she was back where she belonged, safe with Ivy. No one would ever hurt her again. Pamela felt Harley's heat sinking in as her small body relaxed into hers. Cozy and comfortable, she drifted off to sleep as well.
Pam woke late in the evening. Harley was gone and panic washed over her. "Harley?" She jumped up and ran into the kitchen. Harley stood over the table, letting the surface bear most of her weight. She was studying the maps and papers Ivy had laid out for the vault.
"Harley, you scared me. I thought…" She trailed off, not really knowing what she had thought, other than that Harley was gone and might have been hurt.
"Oh, sorry, Pammy. I didn't want to wake you, you looked so comfy." She smiled at Ivy.
Pamela smiled slightly. "It's okay, I was just worried." She slid up next to Harley. Brushing a bit of blonde hair back, she inspected her face. Ivy touched the skin gently, testing the inflammation and temperature. It was cooler to the touch; while her bruises were darkening to plum, they were less swollen.
"It looks like you got everything planned out." Harley stated confidently.
"Mhmm." Ivy responded absently. She stroked Harley's cheekbone beneath her eye. Harley winced, but didn't pull away. "Sorry. It seems to be healing quicker than I expected."
"So, when is your big heist on this place? You want my help?" Harley turned her attention to Ivy. She was startled by the concentration in Pamela's eyes.
"I wouldn't want you to get hurt; you can barely walk on your own right now. It doesn't matter anyway though."
"Why not?" Harley squinted in confusion.
"Because they close the vault in fifty three minutes." Ivy answered flatly. "Assuming they haven't already. Schedules are often up for debate."
"Pammy, why aren't you out there?" Harley was upset, knowing how much this had meant to her.
"Because you needed me here."
"But, Red, all those seeds, all those plants. You planned this for months. You should have been out there, you should have gotten all those seeds and planted them…I don't know where you were gonna plant 'em, but you should have done it."
Ivy stared into those sparkling blue eyes, glittering with passion, and subconsciously smiled.
"You're more important to me than some plants."
Harley stopped dead, staring at Pamela with her mouth agape. I'm more important?
A wide-eyed look came over Pam's face. Ivy turned from Harley's eyes. She shot to the counter and focused every bit of her attention on making food, her mind racing. "What do you want for dinner? I know it's late, but we should eat. Do you want another smoothie, or maybe a sandwich? Can you chew yet, do you think?" Pam asked, not turning to face Harley as she struggled to suppress all the thoughts trying to claw their way to the surface of her mind.
Harley is more important to me than some plants.