Jo slammed the car door shut once she'd climbed angrily into the passenger seat.
That stupid Jason guy had turned her already not great mood worse, and then her Mom, pfft, she didn't care that she was having a hard time, or maybe she did, but Jo could tell she didn't respect her reasoning. Pam with her stupid eye rolls and her—and her stupid face! Her stupid perfect-for-eternity face. Of course she didn't care, of course she didn't understand…why would she?! She'd have three billion do-overs while Jo only had the one, and she'd wasted like 10 years of it going nowhere fast.
Harley got in too, turning the car on and pulling quickly out of the driveway.
"Where are we going?" Jo murmured.
"You gotta quit being a bitch to your Mom," Harley said, either not having heard the question or not caring. "It's alright to be pissed or not want to talk to her, that's understandable, but don't drag that shit into it, please. It's a privilege you even get to know."
"Why?" Jo asked, distracting herself by looking out the window. "It's not exactly a secret after your book, can't turn on the TV without seeing one of her 'no means no' PSAs."
"Jo—I can't get into this with you right now. If you had any idea how much work went into getting her to talk about that experience—Jesus—years, Jolene, years." Harley shook her head. "Look, I get it. It makes you feel powerful, being able to cut her down to size with just a word or a phrase. I've fallen into the same trap, more than once, actually, but we're supposed to improve in the next generation, so…do better than me, please, God…do better than me."
Jo didn't respond, just crossed her arms over her chest and mulled that over. "Maybe you should be a psychiatrist, Jolene," Pam had said. "You must be so proud, Harleen." Jo narrowed her eyes at the passing houses. She couldn't remember ever seeing her parents fight, not really anyway. They snipped at each other sometimes, sure…but Jo had never even considered that they might have actual problems…aside from the fact that one of them was aging while the other one was staying put.
"You want to know why I wasn't an Olympic gymnast?" Harleen asked, interrupting the silence as Jo had yet to speak on her last point. "It's because I fucked my coach and got booted by the ethics committee," she turned up a familiar road. "So…at the very least, you get to live the rest of your life knowing that while it was unfair, there's nothing you could have done differently. There's nothing for you to lament or kick yourself over. You have been given the golden opportunity to blame Mom for the rest of your life, if you want, or me too—I guess—for not telling you there was a problem. But, lucky you, you don't have to hate yourself."
Jo was confused, both by what Harley was saying and the fact that they were about to pull up to the gate at Wayne Manor. She decided to prioritize the former. "What do you mean you…wait, your coach? How old was he?"
"Twice my age and married," was Harleys curt response. "He was a piece of shit and a total pig, and I blamed only myself for a long time until I met your Mom and she reminded me the importance of the power dynamics in a statutory rape case, even if the minor considers themselves a willing participant—they are not and I was not. But anyway…" she sighed. "Years later, back when I was still your Mom's doctor, I tracked him down and bashed his head in with a hammer. So…all's well that ends well," she shrugged, rolling down her window.
Whh—ahh—sh—huh?
"Hey, what's good, Dr. Q?" Jo heard Carrie Kelley's voice blast out of the intercom.
"Is Selina upstairs?" Harley asked.
"Yeah."
"And Bruce?" was Harley's next question.
"He's at that ribbon cutting ceremony downtown," Carrie reminded her. "Should be back around 5."
Harley sighed, a bit put-out, evidently. "Alright, that's fine. Can you buzz us in and page Selina? We're going downstairs."
"Who's we?" Carrie questioned.
"It's bring your daughter to work day."
Wait, does that mean what I think it means? Wait, Ma murdered someone too?
There was a lot to process as the gate opened and Harley pulled through, turning a quick left rather than continuing up to the manor as usual.
"So after the hearing, I was banned from Olympic competition in the future, while my coach was promoted—but that's another story for another time," Harley continued on like she'd never been interrupted. "Of course, I went on to compete at the collegiate level, which really isn't an option for you, unfortunately, but even then I just felt really lost. Like you, I'd spent a lot of my life hyper-focused on a certain goal only to have it taken away from just as I was about to cross the finish line…and I was so fricken pissed and rudderless that I started sleeping around a lot…not that there's anything wrong with that, you do you, I sure as shit did me…but I obviously wasn't in a great place."
They came around the bend to a pond, and instead of rerouting, Harley sped straight ahead, aiming straight for the water!
Jo covered her eyes and braced for impact, pretty sure Harley was in the middle of a mental breakdown at this point
…but there was no impact, just a slight change in terrain, and when Jo opened her eyes once more she found they were descending into darkness, lights flickering on up ahead, illuminating the tunnel.
"So I went to med school, and that kept me pretty preoccupied. Graduated near the top of my class..." Harley picked up where she'd left off. "It's stupid to talk about it in comparison to your Mom, but just for the record, I've got a genius IQ too. I just apply it differently or don't apply it at all sometimes because, you know what? Sometimes it's a lot easier to be stupid. There's a lesson you can take to the bank. Your Mom never figured out how to do that, and so she's turned on all the time, and when you're always awake and demand to see everything, you're bound to be unhappy because this world can really fucking suck sometimes. Ignorance truly is bliss."
The hallway opened up into a…well, a cave would be the only way to describe it. It was cavernous, the walls made of stone but the furnishings metal.
"Holy shit," Jo breathed. "Ma, this is the…this is the…"
"After medical school I started to feel lost again," Harley screeched to a halt on a platform lit with a spotlight…right next to the Batmobile! "And that's when I found your Mom, and that's when I found Bruce…and thank God I did," she shut the car off. "Because there are other versions of me out there who evidently didn't fare quite as well."
"Other—wait, other versions?" Jo was long passed perplexed at this point.
"Sure," Harleen smiled. "Harley Quinn, please ta meet'cha." She used a Gotham accent and stuck out her hand in an exaggerated, almost childish movement.
"H—y—you mean like from that cartoon I used to watch?" Jo questioned, ignoring her outstretched hand. "You're Harley Quinn?"
"No," Harley laughed. "I'm thankful every day for that. Met one once—think she may have been a shittier girlfriend than I am a wife, which—you know—props." She got out of the car, implying Jo should do the same, so the girl scurried out after her.
"See, round these parts," Harleen started at a brisk pace down the stairs off the platform to where Selina was standing, waiting expectantly. "I'm Batwoman. Well…the retired Batwoman."
"W—wait, what do you mean?" Jo descended the steps after her, jumping the last three to speed the process. "I mean I know you're like the team psychiatrist, but—,"
"—she's also the matriarch," Selina informed, her arms crossed, her gaze cold. "What's up, Jo? Heard you were a bit of a bitch to your Mom."
"Ma, you told her?!" Jo had no idea why she felt so violated…maybe it had something to do with the fact that Selina's eyes were so intense she was expecting lasers to shoot out of them or something.
"She sure did," Selina's smirk was a bit cruel. "And see…in my book…I'm the only one that gets to be a bitch to Pam, so, do you see where we're at odds here?"
"I, umm—I do, yes," Jo stared down at her feet.
"This family gave me a purpose when I had none," Harley told her. "And right now you're flailing, I can see that. You need an outlet. So here it is," she spread her arms wide. "Welcome to the team, Batgirl."
"I'm going to get you some training clothes," Selina piggy-backed, "and then Carrie's going to punch you in the face until Pam's the mommy you want to run to." How she could be 65 years old and still intimidating, Jo had no idea. "Sound good?"
/
"Uhh—I don't know about this, Dr. Q," Carrie said, looking Jo over uneasily. "Usually Mr. Wayne puts us on the bags for a couple of sessions before we actually spar…"
"Mr. Wayne isn't here right now," Harley reminded her. "And Jo knows what she's doing. No need to take it easy on her."
"Well, alright, I guess." Carrie still sounded rather unsure as she stripped off her sweatshirt, leaving her in a pair of athletic shorts and a tank top. "You ready to go, Jo?"
Jo maintained her giddy smile as she nodded. "Definitely."
Carrie moved quickly after that, sprinting towards her and then dropping to the ground at the last moment to slide through her legs, popping up at Jo's back and grabbing her around the back of the neck, using momentum to twist her down to the ground. Carrie may have been the weakest Robin, but what she lacked in size and strength she made up for in intelligence and energy. Girl had a motor that just wouldn't quit.
Jo lay face down on the mat for a moment, clearly trying to figure out where to go from there when Carrie had her arms pinned behind her back. She bent her leg at the knee, kicking Carrie just below the shoulder blade with her heel. The redhead winced and Jo was able to use that moment's weakness to wrench her hands free and roll over so Carrie was straddling her waist rather than the small of her back.
But that exposed her, and just like Selina promised, Carrie punched her in the face.
"Oww…fuck…" Jo groaned, holding her nose.
Harley's heart began to beat faster. Is she OK? Is this too much? Is she too young? "Do you need a break, Jo?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound as worried as she felt.
"No, uh—," Jo flexed at her hips, lifting her legs and clamping them in a vice grip around Carrie's neck before thrusting them back down, bringing Carrie with them.
"Hey, that's one of my moves!" Selina clapped happily.
But as Jo smiled proudly, Carrie kicked with both of her legs, landing them squarely in the center of Jo's chest and shoving her a good two feet backwards.
Jo wheezed, fighting for the wind that had been knocked out of her, and Harley sighed. This is going to be a long day.
/
Pamela had been sitting in the driveway for a while at this point, starring at dark house.
Harley was likely still at the Batcave, or maybe she went to pick up dinner…either way, Jo's light was off too meaning she was probably out as well.
Pam had spent a lot of time in her life coming home to empty houses…and she'd preferred it that way. Enjoyed her solidarity. All she required was her plants, and they'd always been there for her, waiting to be watered or repotted…
But now seeing those darkened windows made her feel empty, lonely…she knew they'd be back, but maybe Harley was right, maybe she was feeling a bit abandoned lately.
She was familiar with Empty Nest Syndrome, she'd read up on it before Anthony left for Stanford, but although she missed him terribly and got nervous when he didn't give them an update on his wellbeing, she'd still had Jo and Harley. And she still had them now! She hadn't lost them…Jo was just—she was just being a teenager. Acting like a typical, expressive adolescent. The fact that she felt comfortable enough to be angry with Pam was a compliment to her parenting. She couldn't even conceive of a world in which she would be able to raise her voice at her parents, and look at how that turned out. She'd bottled everything up so tight inside that she eventually just burst and took joy in watching the life drain from their eyes. OK, maybe not joy, but amusement, certainly. She and Jo's relationship was different, it was open and affectionate, typically.
Pam thought back to the days when Jo would run out of the house to greet her in the evenings, a million questions on her mind that only Pam could answer. Maybe she wasn't that little girl anymore. Maybe her grievances were real now, her problems legitimate…but at the end of the day she'd always be the baby Pam couldn't rock to sleep at night. She'd cry and fight and kick, but she'd eventually tire herself out, wouldn't she?
And even when Jo left Pam would still have Harley…for a little while, anyway.
She was still lost in her thoughts when a pair of headlights bobbed up the driveway behind her, the car coming to a stop next to her.
Jo pulled herself out of the passenger seat, noticeably wincing as she did, and limped up the driveway to the front steps.
Pam watched her as she went, but made no move to follow, so Harley came around and knocked on her window, which she rolled down.
"Hey," Harley said, the traces of a smile on her face. "Did you just get home?"
"No," Pam replied, watching Jo open the front door and disappear inside.
"…then what are you doing out here?"
Pam just shrugged, turning to give her wife a chaste kiss before rolling the window back up and opening the door. "How was your day?" she asked as she locked the car.
"Well…" Harley took a deep breath and interlaced their fingers, stopping Pam's forward momentum. "It was sort of—significant."
"Significant," Pam repeated the word slower, trying to understand its meaning. "How so?"
Harley bit the inside of her cheek, evidently gathering some courage before saying: "I got Jo outfitted for her Batgirl suit."
"I'm sorry?"
"I took her to the Batcave…she had her first training session…and her suit should be ready by next week," Harley reiterated. "She, umm…she chose green."
"What does that mean?"
"Well every Batgirl has sort of had their own color," she explained. "Mine was blue, Babs' was gold, Steph's was purple, Cass' is black and…now Jo's will be green."
"You turned our daughter into a vigilante without consulting me first?" Pam asked.
Harley sighed. "Yes, Pam, I did. It will give her some purpose and direction and hopefully fill in that life's-passion sized hole we left in her."
"So…" Pam furrowed her brow. "You thought that warranted turning our 15-year-old daughter loose on the streets of Gotham City in hopes that she can help lower the astronomical crime rate?"
"Hey!" Harley protested, looking offended. "I worked my ass off to get that thing down. Gotham's safer now than ever before."
"Well congratulations," Pam offered. "But Jolene is a child, and she's not invincible, and not immortal. One stray bullet, one mistimed jump and our daughter is dead. Is that what you want? Is that worth her momentary unhappiness?"
"Pamela," Harley rolled her eyes, tearing her hand away. "She was born into this. It's inevitable. She's been waiting for this day since she was like 3 years old. If you want to get back in her good graces, you're going to have to support her here. She's excited and she chose that fucking color as a way of reaching out to you. Don't smack down an olive branch."
"I'm not—Harleen, this has nothing to do with Jo," Pam retorted. "I am upset with you. You just—did all this without consulting me? Not even a fucking phone call?"
"Goddamn it, Pam, I did what I did! It's done now." Harley shot back. "You knew this was coming, and she is ready, whether or not you are is another question entirely that's honestly a lot less important."
/
Jolene discarded her sweaty sports bra, tossing it to the side of the tub before stripping off her spandex as well and gingerly easing herself into the warm water.
"Fuck…" she exhaled, leaning her head back.
She was used to getting beat up by gymnastics, but it turned out actually getting beat up by a human being hurt a bit worse.
Her phone vibrated on the counter and she stretched for all she was worth to grab it, feeling like she'd scored a major victory when it was finally in her grasp.
Carrie: Im so sorry! just wanna make that clear. only did it cuz your mom and cat were on my case
Jo smiled. Don't worry about it. Is your ankle ok btw? Think I mighta over did it in that last round. I just wanted to get you on your back
Carrie: is that what he said or what she said?
Jo snickered as she typed her response. Let's go with "they" ;)
Winky face a bit much?
She was waiting for Carrie's reply when she heard a somewhat timid knock on the door. "I'm in the bath," Jo called out. "Give me a minute."
…but they didn't, they just pushed open the door anyway.
And *sigh* it was Pam.
"Mom! What the hell, dude? I'm naked."
"And I created you in a lab," Pam reminded her. "Nothing I haven't seen before." She set a bottle of clear liquid down on the edge of the tub. "That will help with your muscle fatigue and lactic acid buildup."
Jo narrowed her eyes. "How about you just call it 'soreness'."
"How about you don't dictate my vocabulary." Pam countered with a suggestion of her own.
"Well…thanks," Jo mumbled, grabbing the bottle and dumping it in its entirety into the bathwater.
"You only needed about a tablespoon."
"I guess that's why warning labels were invented," Jo shrugged. "Is it gonna kill me?"
"No."
"Good." Jo cleared her throat. "How's your hand?"
Pam glanced down and flexed her fingers. "Some la—some soreness," she admitted. "But it's functional."
Jo nodded solemnly. "That's good…so, I guess Ma told you?"
Pam smoothed her hands down her sides in a show of discomfort. "She did…I—I understand you chose green as your highlight color. That's—,"
"—it brings out my eyes," Jo quickly interrupted. "It the best color on me." No, I did it for you.
"O—oh," Pam deflated slightly in disappointment. "Yes, well, it certainly does look lovely on you, but then again I think you look lovely in just about anything."
"You're my Mom," Jo reminded her. "You have to say that. It's hardwired."
"Right," Pam painted on a smile. "Well, that doesn't make it not true."
Jo shifted in the tub, covering herself a little lazier now. "Is it weird that your kid is gonna be Batgirl? You know, since you used to be a Batman villain and all."
"No," Pam shook her head. "I made my peace with that long ago. My concern is for your wellbeing." Then she cleared her throat, pulling something out of her back pocket and coming to sit on the side of the tub.
It was a photo, one of Jo at what she guessed was maybe 4 or 5? Standing by the Christmas tree in the greenhouse wearing that old Batgirl leotard.
"I have a copy of this in my locker up at The Watchtower," Pam told her. "It's to remind me why I'm a hero now. What I fight for—girls who believe they can be anything and my family. You happen to be both," she smiled, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead. "I am honored to have raised such an empowered young woman."
Jo blushed, turning away in the hope that her Mom wouldn't notice. "Are you—uh—are you still mad at me about this morning?"
"Absolutely livid," Pam assured her, patting her on the head as she got up. "But you apologized, and I'm going to choose to believe you were sincere. When you're done up here, come out to the greenhouse and I'll help you get rid of that black eye."
Jo smiled despite herself. "Alright."
"Oh," Pam stopped in the doorway. "And you have leukemia, by the way. I'll compose a statement for you to send out on your twitter account tonight."