Harley Quinn had been in the hospital for close to a month and a half before her benefactor made his next appearance to check on her. Throughout that time, her bruises faded from brilliant purple to sickly green, her cuts scabbed over and her bones mended themselves to the point she could begin physical therapy in hopes of returning to her former physical condition.

Despite the healing of her body, her mind remained as fractured as ever.

Though she put on a good show for the psychiatrist that the Bat had sent in, Harley remained firm in her desire to keep her skewed vision of the world intact and merely went through the motions while the tiny voice in her head--the one that sounded oh-so-much like her Puddin'--encouraged her to find a means of escape.

Even in her current mildly crazed state, Harley knew that the biggest obstacle in her way would be the man who now stood at the foot of her bed, swathed in black and drenched in moonlight.

Batman saw through the act. He seemed almost...disappointed in her for it.

But it didn't matter...she had another ace up her sleeve.

Guilt, she noticed, was a powerful tool when used against Batman. It was guilt that made him save her life, and it was guilt that she would use to her advantage.

"Doctor Solomon tells me you're making progress."

"That so?" Harley replied, glancing at her nails nonchalantly, "I notice I haven't made enough 'progress' for them to give me any time outside this dungeon." She narrowed her eyes at Batman haughtily, some of her former spark making itself known once more. "Almost like they don't trust me."

"I don't trust you," he rumbled in that silk-over-steel tone of voice he had.

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't. I'm crazy, remember?" Harley brought her index finger up and twirled it near her temple to illustrate. "I don't deserve any trust, ain't that so, Batman?"

The man in the dark stiffened almost imperceptibly but Harley saw it and reacted accordingly. "After all, I only know who you and your happy little bat brood really are under those masks and haven't told anyone...why would that make me worthy of trust?"

"Point taken, Quinn."

"I don't think it is," Harley answered, "I coulda outed you at least a dozen times by now but I haven't...yet I still haven't been allowed outside this rotten room since I got here. You say you want me to live my life as a normal person but you still treat me like a criminal? How is that fair?"

Batman studied her carefully from his vantage point in the dark and was puzzled when she sobered rather suddenly.

Harley bit her lower lip and chewed on it for a moment, wondering whether or not she should dare to touch on the subject that would be the most raw for the Bat.

All's fair in love and war, sweet cheeks... The Joker voice in her head piped up, This is psychological warfare...do your poppa proud...

Her resolve strengthened, Harley drew in a deep breath and took the plunge, speaking as meekly as possible and took great care in stumbling over the words to aid in her deception, "How…how's Ti--I mean…how's...Robin?"

The muscles beneath Batman's cowl twitched. Were it not for the slightest rustling of fabric, she wouldn't have noticed it.

Harley cast her eyes to one side, as though she couldn't meet his gaze head on out of shame, "I...I wanted to ask before...I know what Mister--no, what I put him through, was...really..." Harley's voice dropped to a mere whisper and she felt actual grief, remembering what had been involved in the transformation of Tim Drake into a Junior Joker.

She wasn't heartless...and he was just a kid, after all...

No, Harley girl...toughen up. He's the villain in this scenario. You're not allowed to feel remorse.

She swallowed the heavy lump in her throat and tried to listen to the voice of reason--the voice of her Puddin'--but hot tears started spilling down her cheeks without her permission. "I didn't think...I--Mister J...he wanted to hurt you...he knows your kids are--were--the best way to do that."

Harley buried her face in her hands, not knowing why she was suddenly so overcome with regret at what she'd been a part of, only knowing that it felt both horrible and wonderful to cry for her sins. Like a weight being lifted that she'd been carrying for far too long.

She didn't even realize that she was muttering apologies over and over again until two strong arms wrapped around her as she rocked and wept madly, truly expressing her grief for the myriad of crimes she'd committed for the first time since she'd hooked up with the Joker.

Why she felt so horribly over what she'd done to Tim--why he was the catalyst in bringing this sudden wave of emotion--she couldn't be certain…but a tiny part of her wondered if it was because she was soon to be a mother and knew that Batman must feel the same way toward his wards as she did toward the tiny life that she carried within her womb.

Harley would protect her baby at all costs…even go so far as to give her own life to keep it safe--if something were to happen to her child, she knew it would drive her over the edge.

And here she had done something so unthinkable--so horrifying to one of Batman's children…

Oh, how he must hate her for it. How much must he want to wring her tiny neck in his mammoth hands for the misery she unleashed on the boy he treated as a son.

Harley trembled harder, repeating the refrain of "I'm sorry!" and requesting his forgiveness again and again as she sobbed loudly.

"Robin is...recovering," Batman said as comfortingly as possible with a wailing woman in his arms.

Harley continued to sniffle and shudder violently, and as the first upsurge of genuine overpowering emotion began to ebb away, she suddenly became aware of her current situation.

Batman had her in his embrace and was consoling her.

Her crying and apologizing continued, but after the first few minutes, it was all part of an elaborate performance while the more calculating part of her mind decided that things had suddenly shifted in her favor.

Success!