Harley Quinn is alive.
And now Dick Grayson knows it. He'd been fading, going off of the deep end in his blind mourning and rage. Now she's alive, she survived the fall, and he's even more lost than he had been before. She's back.
Caught with mixed emotions, Dick goes to confront her. How can he forgive her? Harley Quinn has brutally murdered and hurt- but Harleen Quinzel was loving and simple and… perfect. There has to be a happy medium.
Dick wanted to be angry. As his boots clicked along the spotless linoleum floor, the sickly sweet antiseptic scent filling his nostrils; he wanted to hate her. To hate the situation that he was in. The doctor that was leading him to the cells in Arkham stopped outside of a door.
"Down this hallway, Officer. Second from the end, on your left," he said curtly, sliding his card through the reader and opening the door for him. Dick nodded politely. His footsteps echoed in the hall as he walked slowly toward her cell. These were unlike ones in any other asylum, with barred doors like prison cells; the rooms were furnished much better than they would have been in a prison, though. With his hands in his jean pockets, Dick's footfalls slowed to a stop outside of her cell.
Harley heard the boots stop just outside of the bars, and the silence returned, only broken by the soft hissing of the air conditioning vent in the corner of her cell. She sat at the far wall from the bars with her knees tucked into her chest. Her head was bent down with her hair falling like a curtain in her face. She didn't need to peek to know who it was. The air carried the familiar scent of his Axe Apollo cologne with it. She'd assumed that he would come when she admitted herself; she just wasn't sure that she wanted to face him just yet.
Dick was silent for a while, just watching her. Making sure that she was there, really there, and not some dream. Her shoulders moved up and down gently with her breathing, and there was a long gash across one of her arms crossed across her knees. He bit his lip. "Won't you look up?" he asked weakly. She tilted her head to the side a little, and her hair swayed, but she said nothing. Dick smacked the bar with his palm, and Harley flinched at the loud sound. He gripped the bar, his voice thick. "Look at me."
Harley didn't move.
Dick leaned his head against the bars, closing his eyes against the tears. "Please," he begged her quietly. Harley could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, and she wanted nothing more than to look at him, but she couldn't do it. She didn't think she would be able to stay strong after seeing his face. Dick slid to his knees, his head still hung and resting against her cell door. "When I found out who you were, I didn't want anything more than to go back to before. I could've swung on the trapeze with you forever. I would've lived on that boat with you for the rest of my life. I wanted to dance with you for eternity. But when you…" he trailed off, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper. "When Batman thought you'd died… I realized that I didn't care. I would've taken you either way, as the Lee I knew or as the criminal you are; just as long as I got to see you again."
Hot tears fell silently into Harley's lap. She hadn't expected Dick to have changed his mind. She had expected him to be furious with her. She thought he would yell and scream, and she felt like she couldn't breathe as her head spun. What does he think of me? Dick's shoulders shook silently, and he laughed a little, rubbing the tears from his eyes.
"You have no idea how much I fantasized about holding you again," he laughed through his crying. His head dipped even lower, his eyebrows knit together in pain. She closed her eyes and dug her fingers into her legs. He was making it so hard to not run to him. He looked up, his hands on either side of his head, gripping the bars. Tears ran down his cheeks.
"Please just look at me, Harley," he begged. One of her fingers twitched when he said her name. He couldn't see the anguish on her face behind her hair as she bit back everything she wanted to say. Dick looked down again.
"I didn't want to believe it, when Bruce told me. Of course, why would I? One of my biggest regrets, though, was the last thing I said to you." He looked up at her, wishing she would answer him, and then continued on. "I'm so sorry. I was hurt and confused and scared- I said a lot of things I didn't mean. And I didn't say a lot of things I should have."
Don't apologize, she screamed inside her head, hating herself for letting him take the blame like he was. She had kidnapped Batman. She had chosen the Joker. And she was the one to blame for what had happened. Don't be sorry for anything, she pleaded with him silently.
"I'm sorry for everything," he whispered, covering his face with his hands. "I could have handled things so much better, and I was so angry that I let it dictate…" He trailed off. "I'm sorry that I said I 'loved' you. It was a lie. I shouldn't have threatened you. And… I should have said no. When you asked me if I was choosing to be blind to your insanity? I'm not. I can't be blind to who you are. I can only learn to love it," he said, sounding pained. "I have to try."
Harley felt like her heart was being torn apart and put back together all at the same time. She had been sure that Dick would hate her and be disgusted with her after what she had done, but this was worse. It was everything she wanted, and she knew she didn't deserve it. He should hate her.
"Losing you hurt more than all of the pain you ever caused me as Nightwing," Dick confessed, swallowing the lump in his throat. He hated crying in front of her, but he couldn't help the overwhelming emotion that had overcome him. He was panicked, relieved, exhausted, afraid, confused, and upset all at the same time. His hands dropped away from the bars into his lap.
And not choosing you was the biggest mistake I ever made, she answered in her head.
"I know that I was horrible to you the last time we spoke, and I know that I don't deserve it, don't deserve you, but… I don't want to get over you, Harley. I don't know that I'd know how if I tried." Dick said shakily, taking a deep, shuddering breath. He looked up again, wiping the tears off of his cheeks. He ran a hand through his hair, watching her. Her breathing was slow as she tried to steady it.
You deserve better than me, she thought to herself, thinking of everything she'd done over her years with the Joker. She had done more unspeakable things than she could put into words. There was no way she could rectify all the wrong she had done and even be worthy to look at him. She remained frozen as the tears streamed down her face. Dick watched her for any sign of acknowledgement, but she continued to sit with her head bent. He wiped his cheeks as he stood.
"Please, please look at me." He whispered. She turned her head to the side, away from him, and he still couldn't see her face. Dick bit his lip. "You were right. Falling is just like flying. I've fallen completely for you, Harley, and I'm not giving up on you." He waited by the bars a second longer, and then turned and walked back down the hallway.
"I'm not worth falling for," Harley whispered, thinking Dick was out of earshot. He stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes.
"You're worth it to me." He said over his shoulder, before continuing on. Harley listened to his boots until the door at the far end of the hall opened, and the footsteps faded away. She leaned her head back against the wall and tried to blink some of the tears away.
"And you're worth everything to me," she whispered to the silence. Him being there had been harder than she had expected, and she had never wanted anything more than to be with him somewhere far away from all of their problems. But she couldn't.
The door at the end of the hall opened again, and footsteps slowly approached her cell again. Harley continued to stare at the ceiling as the person came to a stop outside her cell.
"I think it's time for your session, Miss Quinzel," a female voice told her. Harley smiled to herself and rolled her head forward to stare at the redhead before her.
"If you say so Dr. Isley."
When Dick pulled into his driveway on his motorcycle, he curiously lifted his helmet off of his head. Will and Joan were leaning against Will's car, talking quietly. They fell silent when he cut the engine on his motorcycle.
"What are you two doing here?" Dick asked.
"We figured you could really use a drink." Joan smiled, her silky brown hair falling over her glasses. Will shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, and Dick looked at his watch.
"It's not even noon, on a Wednesday," he said confusedly.
"Will gave me a scenario where drinking at noon on a Wednesday would be perfectly acceptable," Joan said, glancing at Will. "It went something like 'your girlfriend dumps you and then turns out to be a psychopathic killer.'"
"Way to put it lightly, Joan," Will muttered. "Gordon assigned me to show her the ropes while you were suspended," he said, shrugging. "We got put on nights for the rest of the week, and figured you could use a drink, as she said it, after watching the news this morning."
Dick looked between the two of them. "Yeah. Yeah, I could use a pick-me-up."
Will blinked, surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah. Lead the way. Someplace with burgers, though, I'm starving."
"You're riding in back," Will told him, pulling open the back door of the squad car. Dick smiled and slid into the back seat. Joan got in the passenger seat and closed the door behind her, glancing through the metal barrier at Dick.
"Lookin' good back there, kid," she smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Dick rolled his eyes.
"Thanks," he said distractedly, making sure he hadn't missed any calls from Bruce as Will got into the car.
"You're going to respond to that nickname?" he asked. "Not manly." Dick shrugged, slipping his phone into his pocket. He glanced at Joan, an eyebrow raised. She wore dark wash denim jeans and a t-shirt for a band he'd never heard of.
"I gotta say, Joan, outside of the force you look like a regular college kid. Usually women on the force are clean-cut and kind of hardasses." He sat back in his seat, stretching out his arms to either side. Joan rolled her eyes.
"Thanks, I guess?" she chuckled.
"Am I taking you to get over an ex-girlfriend, or chaperoning?" Will asked.
"Girlfriend," Dick corrected him.
"Excuse me?!" Will snapped his head over to look at Dick.
"Not ex. For the moment, anyway," he added, blinking in surprise.
"We are still talking about the psycho in Arkham, right?" Joan asked.
"Yes. Girlfriend." Dick nodded.
"Seriously?" Will demanded. "I mean as Lee she was nice enough, but Harley Quinn?!"
"It's complicated," Dick muttered, crossing his arms.
"I'll say," Will muttered.
"So it is a good thing we're going for drinks," Joan chipped in.
"I'm fine, Will, really." Dick took a deep breath, thought for a moment, and then smiled. "I am."
"Well I'm not fine with this." Will gripped the steering wheel.
"What's the problem?" he asked, though he knew he probably didn't want to hear the answer.
"Consider who you are." Will glared at him before returning his attention to the road. "She is Harley Quinn. How long did you even know about this?"
"I found out two days ago," Dick muttered quietly. "Just before I crashed my car, actually."
"Is that what happened to your face?" Joan interjected curiously. Dick looked at her, smiling a little.
"What exactly did you think happened?"
"I figured you were just a hardcore badass cop, really," she shrugged.
"Do not change the subject," Will interposed. "Harley freaking Quinn!"
"Yeah, Will! Harley Quinn!" Dick cried, exasperated. "And is it really that surprising?! I mean practically half the city's population either plays cartoon villain or vigilante. I'm more surprised it wasn't someone like Poison Ivy or something," he said, crossing his arms again. Will took one hand off the wheel to rub his temple.
"Have you even thought this through?"
"When have you known me to think things through?" Dick asked, looking out the window. Seeing Harley, no matter where she was as long as she was alive, had lifted his spirits considerably. He didn't know what he was going to do, or what his next step was; he just wanted to be glad he hadn't lost her for a while.
"My four year old is less impulsive," Will muttered.
"I can already tell I'm going to like you two," Joan commented from the passenger seat.
"You know me," Dick kicked Will's seat. "And I've only thought one thing through."
"And what's that?"
"I still love her."
"Dick!" Will slammed his head into the headrest.
"What!?" he cried. "It's not like I can help it!"
"Anyone else could," Will told him.
Dick fell silent, biting his lip. He looked down, and Joan glanced over her shoulder at him.
"I don't know much about the situation, but I'm gonna side with Will here. This girl sounds like a bona-fide nutcase."
Dick sighed. "Maybe." Will suddenly slapped the steering wheel.
"And what about the Joker?" he asked. "Aren't they a package deal?"
"Oh come on!" Dick protested.
"What? She is the Joker's girl," Will insisted.
"Don't say that," Dick said quietly.
"It's a fair question," Will persisted in a quieter tone.
"I know, I just…" Dick looked down and rubbed his temples in frustration. "I don't know."
"Just think about it," Will told him, letting it drop.
Dick put his hands in his lap and looked at them sadly. He hadn't thought about that. About the Joker. He still didn't want to, either.
"Are we there yet? Because I don't know about you two, but I could sure use that drink," Joan broke the silence. Dick nodded.
"Then it's a good thing we're here," Will said, pulling to a stop in front of a bar. They all went in and took a seat in a booth, Will sliding into the seat across from Dick and Joan dropping onto the leather next to him. The bar was relatively empty. Two men sat at the bar while a couple were at a corner booth eating their food.
"So you googled me," Joan smiled. Dick glanced at her.
"You heard that?"
"You think I can be that smart and not pick up on what you two were talking about?" She smirked, pulling the drink menu across the table to her. Dick smiled a little.
"Impressive resume."
"Same with you two," she winked, shrugging her brown hair in a silky wave over her shoulder. "Small town turned city cop and the circus boy adopted by a billionaire. How did you two end up partners?"
"Unlucky I guess." Will shrugged with a smile. "Then again, someone has to make sure Grayson doesn't get himself killed."
"And nobody else in the department wanted that job," Dick grinned.
"It was a sacrifice I had to make," Will said wistfully before smiling.
"If anyone has to make sure their partner doesn't get killed it's me." Dick nudged Will across the table, laughing.
"I don't know what you're talking about. You've never saved me," Will said slyly.
"It's not awkward at all outside all of these jokes," Joan muttered, tucking her hair behind her ear. Dick smiled and leaned back in the seat.
"Don't worry. Hang around us for a while and you'll be in on them in no time."
"Howdy. I'm Darren and I'll be your server tonight," a male waiter appeared at the edge of the table. He was wearing a deep black v-neck over light washed skinny jeans. He pulled out a pen from behind his ear, flipped his bangs out of his face, and smiled brightly at Dick. "What can I get y'all ta drink now?"
"I'll just have a wine cooler," Joan smiled at him, crossing her arms on the table. Dick glanced down at the drink menu.
"I'll take a Bud," Will interrupted Dick, and he looked up.
"Just water for me," Dick added.
"Sure thang sugar," the man drawled and winked at Dick before walking back to the bar.
"He didn't call me sugar," Will complained.
Dick laughed. "That's because I'm the cute one."
"I'm starting to get offended how we can't go anywhere without you getting hit on," Will joked with him. "Sure I'm married, but I would like the attention every once and awhile."
"Does he really get hit on wherever you two go?" Joan remarked.
"Yes," Will told her, ignoring the look on Dick's face.
"I do not!" Dick protested.
"Yet you choose to date the murderous psychopath…" Joan said offhandedly, and Dick glared at her, tapping his fingers irritably on the plastic coated, slightly sticky table. Will nodded in agreement.
"I thought we'd settled this." Dick muttered.
"Fine." Joan shrugged, paused; then looked at Dick. "You really get hit on everywhere you go?"
He cried out in exasperation. "No!" he snapped as Will answered "Yes!"
"Really? With the hair and the arms and-"
"I do not!" Dick shouted as Will and Joan laughed, and Darren returned to the table with their drinks.
"Here's your drink, darlin," he winked at Dick, who promptly dropped his head onto the table.