I left Waller's office hours ago. Flag escorted me back to my cell in complete silence. Harley was in her cage again, she was asleep on the floor of it. As Flag dropped me off in my cell, he pulled Harley's crumpled up file (thanks to me) out of his bag and handed it to me. His only input on the matter was just to request I think it over before making any definite decision. I couldn't tell if he was subtly trying to get me to turn Waller down, or trying to push me to go for her idea. Before I could ask, my cell door was shut and locked in my face.

I couldn't get into the rhythm of boxing. Every time I took a hit at the bag I could see J beating on Harley. So instead, I tried to read my letters from Zoe, but all the words just started to blur together. Eventually, I decided to lie down and try to sleep on it. When that didn't work, I pulled out a tennis ball Griggs gives all the inmates for some sort of entertainment when we arrive at Belle Reve, and started bouncing it off the ceiling.

"Fix Harley Quinn. Do it for your freedom and kid," Her words rang in my ears over and over again.

How could I do this to Harley? On one hand, it would help her realize she was her own person, and grant me my freedom and custody of Zoe. On the other, it would be one big manipulation. What if she found out about it? I don't want to be the guy that pushes her that much further towards the edge. What if she finds out and goes running back to the Joker and it ends up worse for her?

Also is the Joker really still alive? His plane went down in Midway. We all saw it. So much had happened. If he's still alive, wouldn't he have come to get her already? It's been weeks since it's all gone down there. Also, that's all great that I'll be free, but what about Harley? If she rejects the Joker and I walk free, wouldn't she figure it out? I feel like if I "fixed her" then just left she'd feel abandoned by yet another person she thought cared deeply for her.

Every time I thought of a reason why Waller's proposal was a good idea, I could think of another reason why it wasn't.

I rolled over on my side and saw a photo of Zoe in her Halloween costume she had sent to me. Ironically, she was a clown. As I looked over this picture, it reminded me of Harley in a weird way. Zoe had always believed I could do the right thing. Despite the fact that I literally killed people for money, she would always tell me I was a good man. She'd look at me like I was a hero, even though most days I feel like the furthest thing from one. I'd never seen anyone else give me that look until after we defeated the Enchantress in Midway. Harley offered to drive me to Gotham to see Zoe, and she was looking at me in the exact way Zoe always does: respectful and proud.

For what felt like hours, I stared at this picture wondering what Zoe would tell me to do if she was here. I know she wants me home, what daughter wouldn't want her dad back? But she's always been there to push me in the right direction. She wouldn't let me kill the fucking Bat, and I was never that angry about that either. She was doing what she thought was right, and that takes a lot of courage. Despite the fact that moments after I was in handcuffs, I was very proud of her for what she did that night.

I fell into a fitful sleep after awhile, waking up to a harsh banging on my cell door the next morning. I rolled over, expecting to get a beating from Griggs. Our business two nights ago was never truly finished. Harley made damn sure I wasn't as bad off from it as she was. I was pretty sure Griggs would be in a pretty shitty mood because we never really got what he had up his sleeve for both of us. To my surprise, for the second morning in a row, Flag was at my door. Flag's only supposed to come by once a week to oversee Belle Reve. So what's he still doing here?

I gave him a questioning look,

"Where's Griggs?"

For a moment, Flag's ever-so-serious expression evaporated into a smirk, "He was fired. Waller wants me around for awhile until we can implement some serious changes around here. Those wouldn't really be done with that asshole in charge, would they?"

I felt a grin break out across my face. Finally, nobody to torment all of with bearings, sedatives, invasive cameras, water, and god knows what he did to Harley.

He took my smile as an agreement and ushered me out the door. I walked to the threshold of my cell and stopped for a moment. "I haven't decided yet. About Waller's idea, I mean," I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly. I didn't want to be taken back there only to tell her I still wasn't sure.

Flag turned to face and nodded stiffly, "I understand. But we're not going there. One of the changes to Belle Reve is that the inmates can visit with one another under guard supervision," he simply turned his head slightly and nodded in the direction down the hall and we both started walking.

I didn't have to ask him to know that they were taking me to see Harley.

To my surprise, there was a bed in Harley's cage. There was also a stack of books almost as tall as the bed next to it in the corner, and a large table holding the espresso machine she had asked Waller for back in Midway. Her sleeping figure was curled around a rather large romance novel, and I cracked a small smile at how peaceful and, frankly, beautiful she looked while she slept. Flag let me sit right by her bedside, the only thing between us was the bars she always hangs on while she's awake. The swelling in her face had gone down slightly, the bruising was fading too. It made me happy just to watch her sleep peacefully. It's a rarity here at Belle Reve, and probably even worse for her because of J's temper. The photos of her in her file haunted me slightly. All the bruising around her face, breasts, stomach, basically any and everywhere.

I could feel the eyes of every guard in the large room on me. They were probably expecting me to do something, but I wasn't gonna disturb her. Why would I? To poke around in her brain? To force her to tell me, and the rest of the prison, the abuses of 'Mistah J'? How hard her life has been since she ran off with him? How good she was at her career as a therapist before she fell in love with a crazy clown man? I glanced over her file. Curiosity for the best of me, I didn't read much. Every word I read felt more and more like an invasion of her privacy. Waller was right, Harley was my favorite member of our little "suicide squad," but reading her file was too much too soon. I feel like I crossed some line we were never meant to cross. Not yet at least.

My worrying seemed to have rub off on her, her eyes shot open and bored into mine. Just for a moment, before she shot up out of her bed and across the floor to the opposite corner of the cage. Her stance wasn't cowardly. Cautious but intimidating. Like when an animal is hurt and is trying to get a predator to stay away.

"Whoa, whoa! Harley, it's me!" My hands were up at the bars. I kind of wanted to comfort her, but how can I? There's bars in between us and fifty men with loaded guns and watchful eyes on us a few feet behind us. Her eyes were still fierce and her body was still tense.

"Harley, it's just me," I tried to keep my voice even, but the assholes behind us were really starting to put me on edge.

When she didn't budge, I whipped around at the guards. "Can someone open the doors?" Nobody moved. "Please! I ain't got shit on me to hurt anyone!" I scanned the room and found Flag. He stared me down for a moment before looking over at the guards by the door of her cell and nodding. The guard eyed Harley suspiciously and unlocked the door. As soon as it was cracked, she bolted for it. I ran up and grabbed her at the threshold. She fought against my grip. She scratched at me and punched my chest over and over.

"Harley, Doll! It's just me," I repeated over and over again until the punches became weaker and farther apart. I couldn't tell if she was just tired or starting to realize whoever she may have thought I was at first, I'm not. I'm not here to hurt her. I'm pissed anyone ever did. Her breathing became heavy and to my surprise, she started to sob into my chest.

"He's dead," I felt my heart sink for her. She's in love with a guy who nearly beat her to death on more than one occasion. But when he's finally gone for good, she's heartbroken. I looked over at Flag, who ushered the majority of the guards out to give us some privacy. Huh, Waller must be serious about me and Harley working together. This is a lot of trust to have in a crazy clown lady and a man who used to kill people for money.

I held her in my arms as we stood there for a long time. She continued to cry and would occasionally mumble his name over and over.

"It's gonna be alright," was pretty much all the comfort I could provide. Hell, if someone did me the way J apparently did her, I'd be celebrating the bastard was dead. But apparently he used electricity to fuck with her brain. At least that's what her file says. All the levels of crazy she is are all because he wanted a special little toy to play with and break whenever he wanted. How fucking sick.

After another while, I peeled her off of me and held her at arms length. I hunched a little to make eye level with her. She wasn't wearing any makeup so nothing had run down her face, but it was quite blotchy from all the crying.

"Are you sad that he's gone, or sad about the last thing he did before he died?"

Her lip began to quiver once more, but she took a deep breath and held in any excess tears. After a moment she responded shakily, "A little bit of both, I think."

I nodded simply and took a breath, "You deserve more,"

She met my eyes once more, taking a step away from me before wiping the tears from her eyes. To my surprise, she nodded. "I know, I just-"

"Never believed that till now?" I finished raising an eyebrow.

"Till he tossed me out of the helicopter actually," she corrected weakly but nodded anyway.

"Is that why you don't have Puddin around anymore?" I pointed at her neck. I remember seeing her toss his necklace into the rain. It never really made sense until she told me what he had done.

She nodded again, looking at the floor.

"I think, I think that if he ever broke me outta here. Ya know before he died, he would've brought me right back the minute he was bored with me," she mumbled, still eyeing the floor.

"You're more than that,"

She shook her head simply, "More than what?"

"His little toy, Harley,"

"Yeah? Says who?" She mumbled blankly.

"I think you can be so much better. Why don't you?"

She looked up at me for a moment, her eyes thoughtful and sad. Before I could say anything else, she wrapped her arms around my waist and hugged me tightly. I didn't say anything else, I just held on.

Fuck my doubts. She needed some help.