Harley lay in the old steel mill, wallowing still in the loss of her cherished "Mister J". She now looked like crap, which made her feel even more miserable. Quinn begged for the Joker to be alive, to pop up unexpectedly and declare that it had all simply been another one of his sick, twisted pranks. Then she would run into his arms and the two could live happily ever after with Joker Jr. Unfortunately, she was well aware that this was not the way things would turn out. She yearned for the comfort of death, to be reunited with her lover, but that would mean taking not one, but two lives. Not that she held regard for human lives, because she didn't. However, she did hold dearly to the only thing left of the Joker's legacy: his son (or maybe even daughter.. Harley wasn't far enough along to check just yet).
Thinking about these things only reminded her of her anxieties about the pregnancy. It had been a while and, not knowing a thing about expecting, she wondered if she was supposed to be showing and if so, how much? The baby was really taking a toll on her, draining her energy and causing her to feel tired day in and day out. Was she supposed to take vitamins? Would that help with the drowsiness she felt? What kind? What brand? Her mind swirled with so many questions and all she had right now was herself.
Hey puddin'! I got ahold of this neat little notebook so I could write to ya. It's purple and green and everything! I think you'd like it. I figured it would help me to not feel so lonely all the time. Cause I do feel lonely ALL the time. Just me and little Joker Jr. here, but he don't really count cause he's inside my belly and doesn't talk. I miss you, Mistah J. When are you comin' back? ~Harley! *MUAH*
The poor girl actually kissed the journal, saying the words out loud as she wrote them, like she truly believed that her deceased love could hear her. With that, she lay down, clutching the thing to her reverently as if it was the Joker himself.