Harley watched eagerly as the Joker's henchman brought in box after box from her latest shopping trip. In the two months since her ultrasound, all Harley had done was shop for her daughter. She had bought a beautiful, handmade crib with a rocking chair and changing table to match, countless outfits, and more toys than the baby could every need.
"Be careful with that!" Harley snarled as one of the men tapped the side of the changing table on the doorframe.
"Sorry, Miss Quinn," he squeaked.
Harley smiled, and flopped down in the rocking chair to finish supervising the move. The room was already starting to look like a nursery. The day that Harley had the ultrasound, she had ordered that the room be painted a pale pink, and had plush white carpeting installed. Harley placed her hand on her stomach lovingly.
"Mama's gonna give you the whole world, Little One," she promised.
"Talking to it again, I see," the Joker said, walking into the nursery and looking around.
"Shoes off, Mistah J!" Harley squealed, jumping halfway out of the rocker. "And besides, the internet said it was good to talk to it. I mean, her."
The Joker took off his oxfords and smiled indulgently at Harley. He walked over to the blonde, and placed his hand on her rounded stomach.
"Talk to her, Daddy," Harley whispered. "She needs to learn the sound of your voice."
"I'm not talking to your stomach, Harley," the Joker said sternly.
Harley pouted for a moment, but instantly brightened up when one of the henchmen came in carrying the ornate handmade crib she had found at an upscale baby boutique. Harley squealed with delight and grabbed the Joker's hand.
"Look what I found, Mistah J! Don't ya just love it?"
"It's okay," the Joker replied.
Harley's face fell, but she forced a smile when she felt the baby kick.
"You like it, don't ya, Little One?" She asked.
The Joker rolled his eyes.
"Listen, Harls, I'm going out for the night," the Joker said. "I'm going to leave two of the boys here to watch you."
"Where ya going?" Harley asked, as she stood from the rocking chair, holding her aching back.
"Jewelry heist," the Joker replied, peering into a box of onesies.
"Ohh, you know I love jewelry. Can't I come with you?" Harley whined.
"Not happening, cupcake," the Joker replied. "You're too far along."
"But I wanna go. Please, Daddy?" Harley begged.
Before the words had finished leaving her mouth, Harley was on her knees, her hair wrapped in the Joker's fist.
"What did I just say, Harley?" The Joker asked through clenched teeth. "Did I not just tell you no?"
"I'm sorry," Harley cried. "I'll stay home!"
"Your goddamn right you will," the Joker replied. "Now go to the bedroom."
"I'm so sorry, Daddy," Harley stuttered.
"Did I ask you to speak?"
The Joker slapped Harley hard across her face, and she lost her balance and fell backwards. She cried out in pain, and a drop of blood from a cut on her lip fell on her white maternity dress.
"Hey, you can't do that to a lady!" One of the henchmen yelled, clenching his fist.
Without a word, the Joker pulled a gun from the holster on his waist and shot the man in the head. He fell on the ground, twitching, before becoming still. Harley stared in horror at the blood and brain matter staining the freshly painted walls, the white carpet, and the crib.
"Go to the bedroom," the Joker repeated, his voice low and terrifying to Harley.
She scrambled to her feet and ran out of the nursery.
"Replace everything," the Joker ordered. "Except the crib. Just scrub it."
The Joker stomped into the bedroom, and found Harley lying curled up on the bed, her arms wrapped protectively around her stomach. She was sobbing, and the blood from her lip had dripped down onto the silk bedspread.
"Harley, stand up," the Joker ordered.
Harley jumped out of bed, and stood in front of the Joker, her head down as she continued to cry. The Joker paced back and forth in front of Harley.
"Oh, Harley girl, what ever am I going to do with you?" The Joker asked, turning sharply to the cowering woman and leaning close to her. "This pregnancy has made you feisty. I'm not pleased."
"Please don't hurt the baby," Harley whispered.
"Of course I won't hurt the baby," the Joker said, smiling. "What kind of monster do you think I am?"
Harley smiled, and tried to hug the Joker. In one swift motion, he flipped her over so that she was laying facedown on the bed.
"Don't move," he growled.
The Joker calmly walked over to the fireplace and selected one of the iron pokers. He swung it like a golf club a few times, testing the weight, before walking back to the bed. Harley was sobbing, her whole body trembling as she tried not to move.
"I do wish that you would learn to behave yourself, Harley."
The Joker swung the iron poker so that it crashed down hard on the small of Harley's back. Harley screamed in pain and fear, but the Joker ignored her and hit her twice more. She was whimpering now, an animalistic sound that made the Joker smile.
Panic bloomed in Harley's chest when she felt moisture running down her legs.
"Blood. I'm bleeding," she thought, fear overwhelming her thoughts.
Harley slowly put her hand to her crotch, and stared at her fingertips. They were clean.
"Goddamn it, you idiot, you pissed yourself," the Joker growled. "Get in the bathroom and clean up."
Harley tried to stand, but the pain in her back was too much. Instead, she crawled to the bathroom, and locked the door behind her. She managed to crawl over to the rug in front of the sink before the pain became too much, and she slipped out of consciousness.
When Harley awoke, two hours had passed, and the house was silent. It took a moment for her to remember exactly why she was lying on the bathroom floor, but the sharp pain in her back served as a quick reminder. Harley tried to stand up, but managed to rise only to her knees before the pain became too sharp. Carefully, Harley unlocked the bedroom door and opened it just enough so that she could peer outside. The bedroom was empty, so she eased the door open and started to crawl to the bed. Halfway there, she remembered that her clothes were ruined, so she slipped out of her dress and panties and finished her slow crawl to the bed in the nude.
After a short struggle, Harley managed to lift herself onto the bed, where she wrapped herself in her comforter and began to cry. After a few moments, she heard a hesitant knock on the door.
"Come in," Harley said, wiping her eyes and making sure that the comforter covered her body.
One of the Joker's men eased the door open. He was carrying one of the silver trays from the kitchen, loaded with a cheeseburger, fries, two Tylenol, and a grape soda.
"I brought you dinner, Miss Quinn," the henchman said shyly. "And some Tylenol. I looked it up, the internet said it was safe for the baby."
"Thank you so much!" Harley said, wiping the tears from her face and trying to smile. "I really appreciate this."
"Just…please don't tell the boss, ok?" He asked, setting the tray down on the bed next to Harley.
"Sure thing," Harley replied, cringing as she tried to sit up in bed.
The henchman left the room, and Harley eagerly swallowed the Tylenol. She wasn't sure that they could do much to help her, but she was willing to try anything. Harley poked at the cheeseburger, but the pain in her back was so strong she was afraid she would vomit if she tried to eat anything. She settled back in bed, and placed her hands over her stomach.
"Don't worry, Little One," Harley whispered. "The things Daddy does…Well, he doesn't mean them. He loves you, and he loves me. I promise."
After a while, Harley began to drift off into an uneasy sleep. Her dreams edged towards nightmares, and every little motion she made caused hot stabs of pain to shoot through her back.
Suddenly, Harley was startled awake when she heard a loud crash, and the sound of gunfire. Everything in Harley told her to hide, and she rolled off the bed, crying out in pain when she hit the floor. She rolled underneath the bed, and lay there breathing hard. She listened as footsteps thundered up the stairs and the bedroom door slammed open.
"Quinn, I know you're in here," Batman growled, his deep voice resonating in the room.
Harley was silent. She watched from under the bed as Batman paced back and forth in the room. Suddenly, the man stopped and knelt beside the bed. When he saw Harley she tried to scramble out of his reach, but between her swollen stomach and bruised back, she wasn't fast enough.
Before she could react, Harley was wrapped tightly in Batman's arms. He pushed her facedown on the bed, and handcuffed her behind her back. Harley tried to fight, but every movement brought an intense pain coursing through her back, and she finally gave up, lying limply on the bed as Batman prepared a syringe.
"I'm sorry, Quinn," the man said, moving her hair away from her neck. "This won't hurt the baby. I promise."
The next thing that Harley knew, she was hand- and ankle-cuffed to a bed. The walls around her were white and bare. As her memory flooded back, Harley began to scream. Within seconds, a woman wearing scrubs entered the room and pushed a button on the IV pump next to Harley's bed.
"Where am I?" Harley asked weakly, the sedative running into her IV already starting to kick in.
"Belle Reve," the nurse replied stonily. "You might as well get comfortable, you're going to be here awhile."
The next time that Harley awoke, a woman was standing over her.
"Waller?" Harley asked weakly, wondering if she was really seeing the woman before her.
"Yes," she replied shortly.
"If this is about wanted me back in your little squad, it ain't happenin'," Harley spat. "I'm gonna be a mommy now."
"Oh, I'm well aware of that," Waller said, touching Harley's stomach.
Harley cringed away from the woman's hand.
"What do you want with me, then?"
"To cure you, Quinn," Waller replied.
"I ain't sick," Harley growled, placing her hand over stomach protectively.
"Oh, but you are," Waller smiled. "Social deviance is the worst kind of sickness, isn't it, Doctor Quinzel?"
"Don't call me that."
"You'll be receiving the treatment tomorrow, then in a few days I suspect you should be ready for release." Waller stated, looking down at Harley.
"Released? You mean you'd let me out of here?"
"Of course," Waller replied. "I doubt you'll be any trouble once we remove the fetus and complete a tubal ligation."
"Remove the…"
The words sunk in, and Harley began fighting against her restraints. She let out an ear-piercing scream, but Waller just laughed and pushed the button on Harley's IV pump that flooded her body with sedative. She was asleep within seconds.
Waller walked back to her office, where she picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory.
"Dr. Kovack," she began, "so sorry to trouble you at home. It seems that our patient is ready for the treatment we discussed. Yes, she'll be ready tomorrow. Thank you, Dr. Kovack."
Waller hung up, then picked up the phone again. This time, she dialed the head surgeon of Belle Rev.
"Hello. I need you to clear the schedule tomorrow. I'm going to need the operating theater clear. We have a very special patient being cured tomorrow."