A/N: Based on some feedback, I thought a little additional background might be helpful. I believe, in Nolan-verse, Joker would not put up with the Harley we know and love from BTAS, so I've created a different Harley. She is still an inexperienced psychologist, but that is where the similarity largely ends; her demeanor is less volatile, and her perspectives are more malleable; geared towards whatever her circumstances demand. Ultimately, she's an observer and can mold herself into whatever she needs to be... which has kept her alive, but has taken its toll.

Drop me a line - let me know what you think, as long as its constructive :-)

(Six Months Ago)

She walked to the see-saw and sat down, taking in the narrow view of the Gotham skyline, barely visible through the nearby buildings and the flying debris. The distant skyscrapers flickered in and out of sight through the dust cloud like ghosts of ancient pillars. She glanced down at the crumpled paper in her hands, staring at the words, but not letting them invade her mind; rather, she'd followed the instructions without thought and now sat back to wait for the conclusion of his last show.

The faded and chipped saddle of the rocking horse had rusted in place, and it'd taken a lot of kicks and more than a few curses before it had budged. Finally, she'd kicked the saddle away from her, revealing a hollow opening inside the belly of the horse, and a small, gift-wrapped box. Taking a look at the last of the instructions, she folded up the paper and crammed it into her back pocket, then unwrapped the small box, smiling hollowly at the red "push me" button inside. She pushed it; she waited; she heard the explosion a few seconds before she felt it, and although she could just make out a dust cloud in the distance, she knew the building she'd lived in, everything she'd had, was gone... everything they'd had was gone. She tossed the Push Me button to the ground and walked to the see-saw.

She didn't know how many hours passed as she watched the dust cloud settle; just that it had gotten darker and much colder. Nobody had bothered her, surprisingly, but none of the shadows lurking around the rusty playground seemed interested. Somebody could have shot her and put her out of her misery, but no such luck. His voice startled her, and although her mind shuddered in response, her body remained still.

"You're lucky no one was hurt."

She handed over the instructions, the only explanation she was capable of.

"He left this for you? Why?"

"It's a long story, but the message, this time, is only for me: he left me no choice, as always." She turned around after minutes of silence, assuming Batman had left her too, but there he was, immovable, just like Joker had always said.

"Come with me."

She followed his gruff command the same way she'd followed Joker's instructions, but this time, not without thought. "Why are you here?"

"The message wasn't just for you."

She raised an eyebrow at his cryptic reply, and wondered what Batman would do without Joker now. She barely covered an overwrought giggle; he eyed her with compassion, just for a second, before turning away again, and she followed.

"Is there someplace safe you can go?"

"Not anymore."

"No friends you can stay with? Family?"

She stifled the flash of anger. "Which is it… someplace safe, or friends and family?"

He didn't answer, but as soon as they reached the shadows of the nearest building, he stopped and faced her. "I should take you to Gotham PD". She startled at this, but clamped down on her fear. "I know it's not safe there for you."

"No, it's not."

"Do you trust me?"

"He did. That's good enough for me."

Surprise flickered across his face, just for a second. He motioned for her to hold out her arm, which she did, and pulled a syringe from his belt; he glanced at her, and pushed it in. She gave in to the feeling of falling, and closed her eyes.

She woke up slowly, squashing down a moment of panic in the darkness; windows on the far wall let in just enough ambient light, allowing her to make out the twinkling lights of distant buildings. Sitting up and rubbing her head, she idly wondered how high up the room must be to have windows that didn't directly face another building. Morosely amused, she made a mental note to thank Batman for his lack of information. Her current surroundings piqued her curiosity in a way nothing else had done since she saw him last; then winced in pain. She made another mental note to avoid thinking of him. She slipped out of bed silently, rolling her eyes at herself; no need to be quiet now, but she'd always avoided drawing attention without reason. She explored the penthouse; it was far too large to be an apartment or hotel room, and the height sort of gave it away. She wondered whose penthouse it could be, and imagined being drug out by the police, screaming that it was ok, Batman had brought her there. She giggled, amused by her stint of paranoia, and went to the front door then peered out the viewer. Nice hallway, but just a hallway… in fact, there didn't seem to be any other doors, just an elevator. She'd almost died in a penthouse with an elevator; not an auspicious beginning... or ending.

She went back to the windows; mesmerized by the lights in the distance... it was so unreal, which was perfect, since she felt so out of place. Maybe it wasn't real anyway; maybe it was all some strange dream she was having. The alternating pain and numbness told her otherwise, but it was an interesting possibility. If it was a dream, she could change anything she wanted: she could jump out of the window and enjoy the fall, knowing she'd either die or wake up. She leaned her whole body against the glass, wondering if she could pass through it like a ghost. It was cold, and resistant, but all it would take was just a little push and it would break so easily.

"Enjoying the view?"

She jumped, cursing his silent entry, then collected herself. "I was wondering what it would feel like to fall." She turned, "You know what that's like though, don't you?"

He started to speak, then just nodded.

"Show me sometime…"

"It's not a trip most people want to take."

She shrugged, and turned back to the window.

"How are you feeling?"

She contemplated the question for a moment before answering; so many choices, but she settled on the most obvious. "You have the good stuff... no hangover."

"Good."

She shook her head, softly; here was a man of few words; so opposite him, who was constantly mumbling and ranting. She looked at him, curiously.

"He sent you for me?"

"He did."

"Why would you help him?"

"I'm not, I'm helping you."

"You could have ignored it, left me there, just to spite him."

"I thought about it."

She smiled at the brutal honestly; it was familiar, and that was a relief. "Well… thank you for that." She gestured around the penthouse. "So, where am I? What's the plan for me?"

"Wayne Towers... you're safe here."

She gawked for a minute. "This is Bruce Wayne's penthouse?" She swallowed. "And he just what... won't notice I'm here?"

"No one will find you here. Trust me."

She nodded, and then shook her head in disbelief that she was staying in Bruce Wayne's penthouse... Bruce Wayne's bed! Her eyes widened and she tried not to laugh out loud, wondering how many women would jump to trade places with her; never-mind that Bruce Wayne wouldn't be in the bed.

He must have noticed her unintentional glance to the bedroom, because she thought she heard something that sounded like a laugh, but his face remained serious. "Don't open the door for anyone." He flipped a cell phone to her. "If you need anything, use this phone and leave a message."

She simply nodded again, and examined the phone, thinking how nice it would be to have a cell phone again. Hers was in small bits somewhere out in Gotham; so were her clothes for that matter. He turned to go, but she stopped him. "How will I get basics, like food, or clean clothes?"

Without turning back to her, he said "Leave a message. It'll get taken care of," and with that, she witnessed the most bizarre thing she'd seen yet: Batman walked out the front door and closed it behind him.

She flipped open the phone and realized he hadn't given her a number to call; he'd only said "leave a message" and she hadn't the presence of mind to ask leave a message for whom? She cursed... what was happening to her? With him she was always focused; with Batman it was like she couldn't think straight. She dialed her own number, but got nothing; she dialed a few other random numbers, but still, nothing. Great, the phone didn't even work. She flipped through the menu and scanned the contacts; she found one number listed and dialed it, then cheered when it rang through to a voice mail. She hadn't quite planned on that, so after a few seconds pause, she listed off the things she needed: clothes, some personal food favorites; she mumbled about not having a laptop, and grumbled that the entire giant luxury suite didn't have so much as a single piece of paper to write on. Before she hung up, she threw in "... and my art supplies out of storage would be nice". She grinned; let's see how good the voice mail robot was at getting that for her.

Dawn was breaking on the horizon, and as tempting as it was to watch the sun rise, she was just too tired. She hadn't gotten any decent sleep in over a week, not since he'd first disappeared. On any particular day, that was normal, but not for so many days on end; still, she never expected Joey and Mick to show up and tell her he wasn't coming back this time. At first she got angry; she didn't understand, she thought they'd said he'd left town, or gone into hiding, but slowly realized that's not what they'd meant. They must have expected her to react badly, because they were edgy and didn't know what to do when she just went, sat on the couch, and stared at the wall. She sat there for a long time, repeating to herself that he was gone; she couldn't say dead, never dead, just gone. They spoke to her again, eventually, and told her she had to leave; it wasn't safe anymore. Before they left, she asked them what happened to him; they said it was his last job, but wouldn't say more. They waited for her to go with them, but she'd refused; he'd already made arrangements, she just hadn't realized for what until that moment. As the dawn broke, she closed her eyes and fell into darkness again.