Harley gripped her suitcase tightly. She was angry. Angry at The Joker. Angry at Batman. Angry at all of Gotham. As far as she was concerned, they could all go into a hole and die.
She'd been kicked out… again. But this time, she felt different. She didn't mourn the loss of her puddin', she didn't feel any desire to return right now.
She'd probably end up going back. She always did. She knew her own patterns- it wouldn't be long before Joker called her apologized, and she'd go running back to him, but she wasn't hurrying to get there. The bruises were still very fresh,
She shivered in the chilly rain, wishing that she'd thought to grab a coat. Of course it'd rain now, she brooded, huddling in on herself. She needed to get inside soon. At least the rain his the tears that flowed down her cheeks.
She usually turned to Poison Ivy in these times of need. She was a true friend, never turning Harley away for any reason.
"No… Red's in Arkham…" She mumbled, pulling her suitcase closer for comfort. She was starting to feel the anger subside and the depression setting in.
And Selina… she was always busy chasing Batman. Harley definitely didn't want to be part of that.
Who else could she go to?
Penguin? No.
Hatter? Definitely not. The last thing she wanted was to be his Alice.
Riddler? He was tiring to spend more than an hour with. Plus, she never could solve his riddles. He probably saw her as a waste of time.
Harley's mind faltered and a tear leaked out of her eye and rolled down her cheek. She was so unsure of her future… but wasn't that just what a Rogue's life was? Danger and uncertainty? She'd always wondered what it was like as a psychologist, and now she had the answer, and she didn't like it.
I want to go back. I want to go back, She thought, thinking back at her college days. She'd been happy and successful. I want to forget this all and go back.
It was impossible. No matter what she did, she always went back to the false promises that the life of Harley Quinn promised.
You can return for a little while. You can go back to being an intern again. You can try it all over, without the Joker. You can try and reset it all, she thought.
She smiled slightly, feeling a fleeting flutter of hope rise out of her sinking heart.
Surely Dr. Crane couldn't turn a poor, lost intern away. Surely, he could help her.
Harley wandered near The Narrows. Surely she could find out exactly where The Scarecrow was hiding here. Rogues wandered the alleys freely, and at least one person had to have information on Jonathan Crane.
The stench of cigarette smoke hung in the air, making her cringe. She'd always hated the smell, but The Narrows was gonna smell like The Narrows was gonna smell.
She walked into the first likely bar, and ordered some water. She wanted to be drunk, to forget everything… but she also wanted to find Jonathan. She couldn't do that if she was too tipsy to walk straight.
"Harley Quinn? What are you doing here this fine evening?" A familiar voice asked. Harley set down her drink and sighed.
"Hello Eddie."
"Is something wrong, Harley? Surely the Joker didn't…" The Riddler stopped short, not wanting to finish his sentence. "I'm sorry, Harley."
"I thought he loved me… but I'm beginning to doubt… but I still…" Harley broke down, thee tears streaming down her cheeks. She wiped them away and hoped that Riddler hadn't seen them. Here eyes were still blurred, making the glass sitting in front of her seem a million miles away.
"Is there anything I can do?" He asked, sitting next to her. Harley just nodded, barely even paying attention as he set his hand on her shoulder.
"I need to find Jonathan Crane. Do you know where he is?" She asked, her voice quivering. Edward's face brightened immediately.
"Of course I do. It's the job of a genius to know everything."
Harley just rolled her eyes. Edward's ego could easily be split among five individuals with extra to spare.
"He's hiding in an old farmhouse a few miles out of town. Why do you need to see him, of all people?"
"I feel like I can trust him. We met before we both went to crime," she said, smiling at the memories.
"Do you need a ride?" The Riddler asked, picking up his cane eagerly.
"Sure, Eddie. Thanks," Harley said, smiling weakly at him. Edward may have been annoying, narcissistic, and a little obsessed, but he really was quite sweet at heart… kinda.
Harley sighed and looked out the windows of the green car. she was quieter than usual, and Edward certainly noticed it.
"Riddle me this! If it's information you seek, come and find me. If it's pairs of letters you need, I have consecutively three," The Riddler said, a gleam coming to his eyes behind his mask.
"I'm not in the mood," she said dismissively, making the other Rogue pout.
"Come on now… this one is easy," he encouraged.
"All of them are easy to you," Harley pointed out, a light, forced laugh entering her voice. The Riddler cringed at the sound of the strained laughter that he was so used to hearing come easily.
"That is true," He sighed, not seeing any answer coming from her. "Bookkeeper. You see…"
"I get it Eddie. Thank you for trying to cheer me up, but I really just don't feel like it right now," she said, cutting him off.
"I'm sorry Harley," The Riddler said again. He cursed himself under his breath as he exited Gotham's city limits. The farmhouse was only a mile or so away now.
That mile was driven in silence.
The Riddler stopped the car in front of the old farmhouse. It was run-down looking at best, with some of the window shutters hanging off of their hinges precariously and sagging steps.
"Thank you for everything, Eddie. I really needed your help tonight," Harley said, giving the man a hug. He smiled slightly, patting her on the back.
"Best of luck to you Harley," he said as she nodded and left the car.
The Riddler usually wasn't so much of a charitable type. Normally he wouldn't pay Harley much attention. He hadn't ever seen her as a particularly intelligent person.
However… seeing the normally laughing, bubbly blonde in such a depressed and… tragic mood. He couldn't ignore that. He prided himself on being better than that sadistic clown who couldn't recognize love from a punch in the face.
The Riddler prided himself on having something that could be mistaken for a heart.
Harley knocked feebly on the door, only to be met with silence.
"Professor Crane?" she called in softly, trying not to let her voice quaver. "It's me… Harleen."
She hadn't used her real name for some time now… She'd all but left it behind. Why she used it now... she didn't have any idea. It just seemed right.
The door opened slowly, and a tall, spindly man looked down at her through rectangle lasses. "Hello child. What brings you here?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
"I need someone to stay with…" Harley said, feeling her eyes water and watching as his face blurred behind the tears.
To say that Jonathan Crane wasn't a little shocked by the blonde's demeanor was an understatement. He had never seen her like this… not at all.
"What happened?" He asked, hurriedly ushering her in and sitting her at an old crate that he was using as a table.
"Mistah J threw me out.. again. I had a suggestion about our plan… and then he got mad and punched me… and…" Harley broke into unintelligible sobs, unable to continue. She rocked back and forth slowly, tears running freely down her cheeks. "Please Jonny," She pleaded. "I need you to help me."
That clown has no right, He thought, staring at the broken girl sitting before him. There was no part of her that seemed unhurt. Now that he looked, he saw faded bruises and scars on her arms and wrists. There was a large bruise forming on her right eye, and a huge welt on her shoulder that barely poked out from the shirt she was wearing. In their line of work, wounds were common, but it just seemed… excessive to him. It seemed wrong. He sat down next to her, not entirely sure what to say.
"Cheer up, child. You can stay here," He said, awkwardly placing his hand on her back in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. "I promise to keep you safe until you feel ready to leave."
Harley nodded and closed her eyes. She looked exhausted. Her left eyes was forming a large black ring around it.
He didn't know what he was doing. He'd given up years ago, after she'd left with Joker. He'd tried to forget her and move on. For the longest time, he'd been certain that he'd succeeded.
But like an old habit, it didn't take much for him to suddenly remember everything that he'd admired about her.
"I have a couch upstairs. It's a little threadbare and lumpy, but it should do better than a sleeping bag on the ground," he said, standing up and walking towards the rickety staircase. Harley followed silently, ghostly footsteps echoing throughout the still house.
"Thank you, Jonny. I knew I could trust you."