"All three of us."

How many times had they said it and been assured that it was true? That things like this didn't happen all the time? People lose children, it's not that uncommon. It's heartbreaking, but not entirely unexpected. The means, however, the Joker actually taking her away; it's the worst feeling one could possibly imagine.

There's no merriment now. The day after Bruce and Selina's wedding, just a few weeks until Christmas, but nothing is going to fill the hole left behind. Now "all three of us" is just "the two of us", if they're lucky. If the strain of the loss doesn't make it "we were".

There was a painful tension in the waiting room. Dick sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He'd changed into some fresh clothes that Barbara had brought. She was sitting in the seat next to him, glancing worriedly at him every few seconds. Bruce was pacing between the seats as Selina watched him. She'd tried to keep her mascara from running, but there were black streaks down her cheeks. Cass was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed as she stared at the floor. Jason was sitting with his head against the wall and his hands over his mouth as his foot tapped against the floor. Ivy's legs were pulled up on her seat with her arms wrapped around them; her head was resting on her knees, her shoulders shaking slightly. Steph was curled up in Tim's lap while he stared blankly into space. Alfred sat to the side, his head on his hand as he nodded off.

Will and Gordon had made the two uniformed officers leave with them as soon as Dick had come out of the ICU, both of them unable to look at him. Sam had stayed behind and was getting coffee, not that he actually believed anyone would drink it.

Dick didn't move. He couldn't. Something weighed on his chest, pressing the air out of his body. If he breathed any deeper, he felt like he'd drown, the truth rushing into his lungs and suffocating him. For the first time in twenty minutes, Dick moved. He sat up a bit and stood, walking forward before stumbling against a chair. Barbara stood to help him, but he held up a hand, moving away from her. His eyes flashed in shock, and he leaned against a chair.

"Don't touch me," he warned, his voice weak. "Not you."

His eyes were red, but he hadn't been crying. He couldn't cry. Barbara flinched at his words, falling back into her seat.

"Sorry," she breathed.

Dick stared at her for a moment before he wandered towards the front counter and looked at the nurse. It took him a moment to find the words, and his voice was hoarse. "Can I please see her now?" he asked quietly. She sighed.

"I told you before. Wait for Dr. Holloway."

"Please," he begged.

"Sit back down," she told him. "He'll be out."

"When?" Dick pressed, leaning forward a bit.

"Sit. Back down." She pointed her pen at the chairs.

"No," he snapped, eyes flashing dangerously for a moment. Bruce and Jason looked up in surprise. Dick pointed at the nurse. "I want to see my fiancee, now. I want to see her daughter before she's gone forever." His voice was eerily calm, a dead look in his pale eyes as he started for the doors that he'd came from earlier.

"Sir!" The nurse stood up. "You can't go in there!" Bruce and Jason grabbed Dick's arms, pulling him back.

"Dick," Jason hissed. "You need to wait."

"No," Dick yanked his arms away from Jason and Bruce, turning on them. Jason recoiled at the deadly and vacant look on his face. Bruce stepped back, and Dick turned to push his way through the doors. He walked blindly down the hall. Dr. Holloway came around a corner and did a double take when he saw Dick pass.

"Mr. Grayson?"

"Where is she," he asked quietly, looking at the doctor. "I want to see Harley," Dick's face was pale, his eyes rimmed in red. He didn't look well.

"Okay, but," the doctor glanced down the hall, "but what are you doing? You can't be back here." He led him back down the hall. "I was just coming to talk to you."

"Good. Now take me to my fiancée."

Dr. Holloway sighed. "That's what I'm trying to do. We took her out of the ICU, and she's in the regular section of the hospital." He gestured back down the hall. Dick watched him for a moment before following him hesitantly. He didn't speak.

"We're still unsure of what to make of her condition because of her healing. Antitoxin isn't it?" Holloway peeked in his file. They walked back out into the waiting room, and everyone stood up.

"How is she?" Selina asked. Dr. Holloway glanced at Dick. He looked down with a nod.

"Well," he flipped the file open, "she's doing better. Still probably a little woozy from the blood loss and subsequent transfusion, and… everything else. All external wounds appear to have healed, and we're pretty sure there's no lasting internal or nerve damage. There is- a lot of scar tissue. The last record we have is from when she was admitted into Arkham, and it has nearly doubled since then. We ran some x-rays, and there were some cracked ribs, fractures on her wrists and ankles, and we think her collarbone was broken. We can't be sure because all of the breaks look old." He closed the file. "We're obviously most concerned with the emotional damage. Because of her healing, we can't be sure of all of the trauma she went through. She's a little more subdued now."

"When can we- when can Dick see her?" Barbara asked, looking at him for a moment. Dick swallowed hard.

She doesn't want to see me, he thought, sinking into a chair and dropping his head in his hands again. Last time he did this, he didn't move for twenty minutes. He couldn't look at his family. He couldn't face them, or the doctors, or her- God, what she must think of him now. The last thing he said to her was that their relationship was a mistake before she was taken, tortured- and her daughter. She'll never forgive me. She should never forgive me. This… this isn't just my fault. This is my negligence. My dereliction. My transgression. This isn't just my mistake, this is my crime. Her daughter is dead. He closed his eyes, again shocked at how much pain he was really capable of feeling. It was one thing to lose his parents, or the woman he loved- he'd never even seen the baby, but a part of him had died completely. His pain was numbed and suppressed, still catatonic.

"He can go see her now. I suggest that she rest, but I doubt she will, so for a short visit, you could all see her," Dr. Holloway told them before adding, "If she's up for it."

"Go," Dick said quietly. He didn't look up at his family. "She… I can't." he breathed, his cheeks burning.

"Dick," Selina gasped.

"You are not abandoning her in there," Ivy snapped. Dick stood wordlessly and stared at her for a moment, his eyes nearly vacant as he looked down again.

"Lead on, doctor," he said quietly. Holloway nodded, leading them through the halls. He stopped outside a door.

"Wait here." He went into the room, closing the door. After a few moments, he held the door open. Bruce put his hand on Dick's back, leading him in.

Harley was sitting up in a hospital bed; a nurse was beside her looking at a chart. She was in a fresh hospital gown, and she had been cleaned up, her hair still damp. It fell over her shoulder in a tangled knot as she stared down at her hands. She glanced up briefly at them before staring at her hands again. Dick felt his heart constrict when he saw her, and he breathed shallowly. He waited beside the door as everyone else shuffled into the room. He nearly turned around and left. No one knew what to say. Damian looked around and then walked forward, crawling onto the bed. He snuggled into her side as gently as he could, avoiding hurting her. He didn't know how to comfort her.

"Harley…" Selina sank into the chair beside her bed.

"Oh my God!" Steph cried, rushing over to the side of the bed; Harley flinched.

"Sorry," she apologized as Steph froze in her tracks. "I'm sorry, I'm just… I'm sorry." She took a ragged breath, running a hand through her hair. Bruce stepped forward, grabbing her elbow and looking at the scars etched across her arm and around her wrist. Harley yanked her arm back, looking away. The movement pulled the collar of the hospital gown to the side, revealing the jagged scalpel wound on her collarbone. Bruce didn't say anything, his jaw clenching as he stepped back by Selina.

"Are you okay?" Ivy asked.

"I don't know." Harley looked back down at the blanket.

"I didn't mean to," Dick whispered from the doorway. The atmosphere in the room darkened when he spoke, and Damian looked up.

"How-" Harley's voice cracked, "How did you find me?"

"The necklace is a metal alloy that- when a certain frequency is sent out- will send a sort of signal back- When I got it for you, I-" he looked down, his head in his hands.

"You had a tracker on me." Harley leaned her head back. He'd had a tracker on her for weeks. "Thank you," she whispered.

"I'm so sorry," he said again, his face still covered. "I'm so sorry. I was too late. I killed her." Dick choked as he turned away from the door. Bruce tapped Jason and Tim on the shoulders.

"We should go check out where the Joker held her," he whispered. He nodded at Damian who reluctantly crawled off the bed and followed, glancing back at Harley. Ivy went with Jason, and Selina gave Harley one last pitying look before everyone followed. The nurse put Harley's chart back, and Dr. Holloway closed the door behind them.

"No." Harley shook her head. "No, it's my fault. I let him get the jump on me, and… Dr. Canley told me I was too stressed. I should have just listened. I…" Her lower lip trembled. "She can't really be gone. No. We made it to the hospital. She should-" Harley hiccupped a sob, covering her mouth. Dick remained in the opposite corner of the room, his body stiff and still as he leaned against the wall, still covering his face.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated.

Scars. They'll be there forever. You'll never forget what you did to her. You'll never ever be able to look at her again. You'll never be forgiven.

He sank into the chair beside the bed, blue eyes wide and hollow and refusing to meet hers. He put his elbows on his knees, breathing slowly as he rested his face in his hands. "I left you- alone- I left you both- alone-" he bit down on his lip.

You left her there. You told her that it was a mistake and then left her there. You left her to die.

His voice was thick, heavy with dammed up tears. "So sorry, I'm so sorry-"

Stop saying I. You just took her daughter from her, the least you could do is be compassionate. This isn't about you. You don't have a heart. Not anymore.

"...sorry..." Dick choked. There were a thousand things that should have gone differently. He never should have left. She should have been at the Batcave. He never should have picked up the phone.

"But you won't try to listen to me."

"I should have listened," he whispered, his whole body still detached from the pain.

"Or end… whatever it is with Barbara."

"Only you," Dick breathed, pinching his eyes closed tighter.

"Or try to work this out with me."

"I should have stayed." His voice was barely audible.

"Batman is always more important."

It was meaningless, Dick thought as he bit down harder on his lip, tasting blood in his mouth.

"This was a mistake."

You were right, he thought in the silence, his breathing even and shallow. This was a mistake. My mistake. I left you there. And you paid the price. It's my fault that you're broken. It's my fault that you're traumatized- it's my fault that she's gone. I was too stupid, too blind, too late.

And the Joker.

What I did to him. Dick's demeanor was still somber, tense as a violin string ready to snap. His breathing was calm, but he felt deadened to the situation. Sitting in the chair beside her with one hand supporting his head, Dick draped the other arm across his knees. His dark hair, still matted with her blood, fell in front of his face, hidden in shadow and by his other hand. He couldn't look at her. He didn't know how she could even look at him. Her daughter's murderer. Harley wrapped her arms around her chest, her fingers digging into the fabric of her clothes. She watched the top of his head, crying again; she felt like she couldn't stop.

"I should have known," she choked out, her voice thick with tears. "I was his psychologist I should have known he'd… that he'd-" She gave up, closing her eyes. "It was my fault. The turning from him, planning against him, not loving him, it's all my fault she's gone."

I shouldn't have pushed him, taunted him, she thought, remembering every time she'd stopped him and when he found out about Dick. I knew he'd retaliate. I knew there'd be consequences. Harley knew she'd go back and change everything if she'd known the consequence would be Haly. She whimpered, putting her hand back over her mouth. Despite the doctors telling her she'd healed up fine, she felt sick to her stomach. The healing is what bothered her the most. It was like she'd never been pregnant; only scars remained as evidence. They'd assumed something like that would happen, the Antitoxin restoring her to peak condition, they'd just never thought Haly wouldn't be there.

If I'd killed him when I had the chance…

"Is he… Did you?" Harley took a deep breath. "The Joker?"

"He's alive," Dick said quietly, still rigid as a stone in his seat.

Harley struggled to decide if she was relieved or disappointed. He's still out there, she realized. He could still come for her. But he didn't win, she thought. She looked at Dick. He looked like sitting in there was the most painful thing he'd ever done. He didn't win, she tried to assure herself.

"Dick," she breathed. "Look at me."

He still didn't move.

"Dick, please," she begged, watching him carefully. Her eyes were watery, pleading. A slow breath, scarcely loud enough to hear, escaped his lips as he looked up, his hand sliding over his lips. He blinked slowly. His blue eyes were reddened but dry, and tired. Empty as his heart now was, and dead. There was no light in them, and he didn't look at her, focusing on the heart monitor over her shoulder. He couldn't look at her. Harley sucked in a breath.

"Is that how it's going to be? Are you going to keep pushing me away; tell me it's for my own safety? You don't want to see me get hurt, so you're going to keep me at a distance?"

So that's how it feels, she thought as she remembered the words he'd said as he'd watched her with so much emotion in his eyes when she came back. She didn't know how her heart could break any more.

"He's still broken, you know that you ruined him, and he's just been put back together like a little porcelain doll. All he needs is something to drop him again. He just needs to fall one more time."

Harley gasped and shuddered at the memory, pulling her legs up into her chest as she started bawling. I can't do this, she thought. I can't lose everything like this. Please. She'd lost count how many times she'd begged that word tonight.

"First Haly," Harley choked over the word. "Please, don't… I… I can't do this." She pulled the blankets further up her knees, sobbing into them.

Dick wanted to comfort her, wanted to reach out and hold her. He closed his eyes and looked down again. If you touch her, she'll break. She's already broken. You did this to her. He sighed slowly again, and she felt his hand touch hers gently. His fingers were cold, and she looked up at him where he'd stood up beside her bed, looking down at her. His eyes were still expressionless, but at the same time- so sad. He looked like he'd just… given up. Given in to the agony. He looked so hurt that she wanted to look away. Harley took his hand in both of hers, crying into his sleeve.

"What are we going to do?" she gasped, her shoulders shaking. His jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes as he sank down to sit on the bed beside her. His arm moved around her shoulders, and he tucked her head under his chin. It was terrifying, how utterly void of feeling he seemed to be. He stared at the wall over her head, his movements almost lethargic, and his heart beating steadily and calmly under her hand as she clutched his chest. Dick didn't answer as he closed his eyes again. "What are we going to do?" she repeated in a whisper, crying into his shirt. She curled up into his lap, feeling small.

"I don't know," he whispered. How can you even look at me?! "We'll have to…" Why do you want to touch me?! "I don't know," Dick repeated, sounding beaten. How can you still want to be near me?! He held her tighter, pinching his eyes closed as he pressed his lips into her hair. Her hands clenched in his shirt.

"Please don't make me stay here," she begged. It reminded her too much of Haly. He took her hands away from his shirt and stood, watching her.

"I'll go see what I can do," he breathed, stepping back before he turned away and walked out the door.

Harley tried to say something, but he was already gone; she sat bolt upright as soon as the door was closed, leaving her alone. She glanced nervously around the room, breathing heavily. She flung the blankets away from her, scrambling to her feet. She stumbled to the wall, pressing her back against it. Her eyes flicked between the window and the door. You don't need to panic, she tried to tell herself, but she stood stiffly with her back flat against the wall.

It was ten minutes before Dick came back, opening the door and looking at her in shock. "Harley?" he stepped forward, holding a hand out to her. "Come here," he said gently. "It's okay, no one's here. No one's going to hurt you." Like she's any safer with you, his conscience mocked, and she saw him bite his lip and look down, pained. At least he seemed to be showing more emotion, now, but his eyes were still hollow. Harley rushed toward him, ignoring his hand as she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I don't want to be alone. I'm sorry."

Dick took her waist and made her step back a bit, his jaw tight. "We can… I can take you home," he said quietly. "Barbara brought you some clothes," he handed the bag to her, looking down. Harley was frozen in front of him for a moment. After a second, her hands tightened around the bag, and she turned away, hiding her face as she started to cry again. She quickly fled the room to change in the bathroom. Dick flinched away from the door slamming behind her, and the pain bursting in his chest. He sank down to sit on the bed, his head in his hands once again. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

After a while, Harley came back in with the bag still in her hands. She'd changed into a pair of jeans, tennis shoes, and a long black coat with the collar turned up to her ears. Her eyes were still red and her face pale as she stared at the floor, glancing up at him every now and again.

"Harley, I…" It's all my fault. I killed her. Your daughter. She's gone because of me. I'm so sorry. God, I love you so much, I want you to help me, but I don't know how. I want you to hold me. I want to hold you. I want to cry, but I don't think I can. I can't touch you, I'll destroy you too. I just want you to still love me. Dick stared at her, and then turned towards the door. "Let's go."