Five times Pamela had called; five times it had gone to voicemail.

Frustrated, she tossed her phone off the bed before turning her attention back to Harley who was tucked in beside her. "She's not answering."

Harley was still sniffling, her breathing choppy and shallow. "Pammy, what if I never walk again—what if today was the last time?"

Pam knew that was a possibility, although it was one she wouldn't accept. Even so, she decided to take herself out of the equation and approach this like a parent. Offer a sobering consolation. "But we had a good day, didn't we? Walking through the park with me…that wouldn't be a terrible last day of mobility, would it?"

Harley wiped at her eyes even though she'd run out of tears some time ago. "But Duke can't even walk yet. I can't—I wanted to be able to go to the park with him and show him where we used to take Anthony when he was little. All Duke will ever know is me in a wheelchair."

"Honey, you're his grandmother." Pam reminded her, placing her hand over Harley's heart. "One who already loves him and is invested in him. That's what he's going to care about. Not whether or not you can walk."

"I care, Pamela." Harley said. "I care."

"I know," Pam whispered, kissing her on the head. "And I'll speak with Zatanna first thing in the morning. I'm not sure why she's unavailable, but I'll handle it."

/

"Alright, fine," Zatanna laughed. "It was pretty cliché, really. We flew to Paris—,"

"How?" Dinah asked, an eyebrow raised.

"I knew you were going to do this!" the brunette playfully smacked her friend's arm.

"It's a simple question," Dinah leaned casually against the wall. "Come on. Out with it. What did you fly to Paris on?"

Zatanna sighed before mumbling: "A magic carpet."

Dinah laughed. "What was that?"

The magician rolled her eyes. "A magic carpet, alright?! I told you it was cliché!"

Dinah was laughing when they heard an angry female voice echo down the hallway: "Hey! The fucking fishnet convention!"

They both turned to see an irate-looking Poison Ivy charging towards them.

"Oh, shit," Zatanna cursed under her breath. "Look, Ivy, I'm sorry I missed your ca—ah!" she yelped as a vine shot out of Ivy's arm and wrapped around her ankle, harshly yanking her off of her feet.

"Pamela!" Dinah protested. "It's 8am, for Christ's sake. Have a cup of coffee then reassess."

Ivy was quickly reeling the vine in, dragging Zatanna towards her as she continued to advance.

Panicking slightly, the brunette began to cast a spell before she was gagged by yet another vine that had sprouted off the main one. Ivy was standing above her now, and with fury in her eyes she dropped down to the floor, gabbing Zatanna by the lapel of her tailcoat and sitting on her hips.

"Why didn't you answer?" she demanded, their faces only a breath apart.

…and for a second there, Zatanna wasn't sure if she wanted the vine out of her mouth so she could answer her question or kiss her. "Mm—mm—vvv—ttt—dd!" she unsuccessfully tried to force the words through her gag.

"If you actually came for answers, might be helpful to be able to hear them, huh?" Dinah pointed out.

Evidently deciding she was right, Ivy retracted her vine, and Zatanna sputtered, gulping in the air she'd been deprived of and spitting out the taste of foliage. Ivy, however, refused to change her position, keeping her weight pressed down on her hips.

"Why didn't you answer my calls?" Ivy repeated.

"It was Valentine's Day—damn!" Zatanna was finally able to answer. "I didn't get to my phone until like 3am. Figured I'd just wait until we were face to face. Now get off me! And what the hell do you want?"

Ivy was still glaring at her, but she did relinquish her position, pulling herself to her feet, but pointedly not helping Zatanna to hers. Dinah did that for her. Dusting herself off, the brunette reiterated: "Seriously, what's your problem?"

Glancing quickly at Dinah and apparently deciding the conditions were suitable for her to speak, Ivy said, in a more controlled voice than what she'd used before: "My wife, Harleen…"

"Yeah?" Dinah prompted her to continue.

"She's paralyzed again," Ivy said it like the words pained her to voice. "The spell you cast, it must have worn off. She lost her ability to walk again last night, and she's…afraid."

Oh, right. Crap. "Pamela…"

"It's Ivy," the redhead snapped.

"Ivy," Zatanna corrected. "That spell was always meant to be temporary. You knew that. I told you that back then."

"Yes, but I held up my end of the bargain!" Ivy rather forcefully reminded her. "I went on every idiotic 'Dark' mission you asked me to. I followed your every order. Did you find my performance unsatisfactory? Because that's absolutely ridiculous. I contributed every ounce of what I could."

"Yeah, I know that, Ivy," Zatanna acknowledged. "But I didn't pull the spell, it wore off itself, like you said. It worked like a parasite, rerouting her body's energy. If she can no longer walk, it's because her body decided it needed her energy for other functions."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ivy demanded.

"It means she's tired, Pamela. It means she's getting older and her body doesn't have energy to spare anymore." Zatanna explained. "Again, I told you this the day I cast it."

"But she's not—dying," Ivy told her, spitting the word out like it tasted bitter on her tongue.

"She didn't say she was," Dinah clarified. "She said her body doesn't have the energy budget anymore."

"Don't you have some adolescents to scream at?" Ivy snarled, her eyes nearly glowing as she turned to address the blonde.

"As a matter of fact…" Dinah said, returning the redhead's rigid gaze. "Are you good here, Zee?"

"Yeah," the magician confirmed. "Look, Ivy, I'm sorry, OK? But these things run their course. There's really nothing I can do.

Ivy's mouth twitched in a barely noticeable show of dejected acknowledgment before her features hardened once more. "Useless," she muttered, looking at both women in front of her with something approaching disgust. "Utterly useless."

She retreated from whence she'd come, rounding the corner out of sight at a determined pace. But unlike her approach, her shoulders slouched now, heavy with the weight of Zatanna's answer.

"Damn," Dinah remarked once Ivy had disappeared from view. "She went like full on Jodie Foster on you just then."

Zatanna raised an eyebrow.

"Supremely cranky lesbian," the blonde translated.

/

Ivy stopped walking once she was sure she was alone, ending up in front of one of The Watchtower's large windows.

She pressed her back against the wall, letting herself slide down it until she was sitting on the ground, her knees pulled to her chest.

Why now?

Things had been so…wonderful. So effortless.

Ivy supposed she'd just answered her own question. She wasn't meant to be happy. None of them were. There was always some obstacle to overcome, some wood to be lost in…

Her leotard deposited her cellphone in her hand and Ivy sighed as she dialed the number for the first of her two calls.

Anthony picked up after three rings. "Hey, Mom," he said, and she could hear the smile on his face. "How are you on this fine Sunday morning?"

Pam closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wall. "I've been better." She admitted. "Can you come over this morning, do you think? In an hour, maybe?"

"Umm…yeah, yes, I think so. Hey, Bee?" he raised his voice, pulling his face away from the phone. "What time is that baby yoga class you're taking Duke to?"

"3. And its swim class, not yoga," Pam heard Karen say in the background.

"Yes, an hour works," Anthony confirmed into the phone. "We'll see you then. Do you want us to bring anything?"

Pam sighed, although she hoped not too audibly. "Just yourselves is fine. Your Mother will be happy to see Duke."

Anthony ended the phone call with an "we'll see you then" and then a "love you".

Gathering herself a moment, Pam dialed the second number. This one only rang twice before it was sent straight to voicemail.

"You got Jo. Lucky you. Please don't leave a voicemail. I can never remember my password so the notification just sits there screaming at me on my lock screen. Send a text message. You've got fingers, right?"

Pam rolled her eyes as it beeped, then hissed: "I hope this voicemail haunts your lock screen for all eternity," before hanging up and immediately dialing again.

This time the line rang four times before the real Jo answered, sounding out of breath. "Top of the mornin' to ya."

"Are you in the middle of something?" Pam asked.

"Uh—nope. Just some cardio," Jo told her. "What's up?"

"There's something I'd like to speak to you about in person," Pam kept her tone as light as possible. They'd have plenty of time to be worried later. "Can you be at the house in an hour?"

"Mmm—yeah—ah! Yep!" Jo agreed to her timetable in a rather bizarre fashion.

Pam furrowed her brow. "Jolene, are you alright?"

"Me?" Jo asked. "Yeah, totally. It's just—umm—you know when you're on a machine and you specifically ask it—program it—to slow down but it speeds up instead? Yeah, it's just a—I should get a new one."

"Well Bruce has quite a few to choose from," Pam reminded her. "No need to torture yourself on a shoddy piece of equipment."

"Preach!" Jo squeaked. "K, be there in an hour."

Pam narrowed her eyes, now positive there was something amiss, before they widened in realization and she angrily pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fantastic." She gritted. "Please see to it that Damian is no longer inside you when you arrive."

Pam had to squeeze the phone tightly enough in her hand that her knuckles turned white after she'd hung up You've smashed too many phones. Harley said not to do it again until you're eligible for an upgrade. She shook with anger. And you can't kill Jo either. Harley is too attached.

"Dr. Isley." Supergirl pulled her out of her thoughts. "Are you OK? What are you doing on the floor?"

"No, I'm not OK," Ivy snarled petulantly. "My wife is paralyzed and the only thoughts that bring me comfort are the ones that revolve around killing my daughter."

Kara looked concerned. "You're…joking, right? That's not a very nice joke."

"I don't have time for this." Ivy stood up. "And yes, I'm…joking. About killing my daughter. Not about my wife's paralysis."

Supergirl visibly relaxed before her face contorted into a look of pure sympathy. "Dr.—Pamela, that's…that's horrible. I'm so sorry."

Pam was confused at first by the woman's kindness…before she remembered that seemed to be part of the House of El DNA. "Thank you." She barely had time to nod before Kara was pulling her into a tight hug.

"If you buy her a box of chocolates, I'll pay you back. You don't have to say they're from me, if you don't want to." the Kryptonian murmured into her hair.

Pam almost laughed. "That's…sweet of you, thank you."

/

"Dude, what the fuck?!" Jo smacked Damian across the face as he stifled a laugh. "I asked you to wait like two fucking seconds. Now my Mom—,"

"—knows you're not a virgin?" Damian guessed. "How awful. And you had such a sterling reputation before."

"You're an asshole," Jo informed, climbing off of him and out of bed.

"Hey!" he protested. "Where are you going?"

Pulling open the drawer that she stashed a few articles of clothing in, Jo asked: "are you familiar with the Stanford marshmallow experiment?"

Damian propped himself up in bed. "What?"

"It was a study on delayed gratification in the 60s and 70s," Jo explained. "The researcher would leave a child alone in a room with one marshmallow and tell them that, if they waited 15 minutes, they'd come back with another marshmallow, so they could have two. But if the child chose to eat the one instead of wait, that's it. That's all they got."

"So…"

"You ate the marshmallow, Damian." She said, pulling a pair of light wash jeans over her thighs. "So I am withholding the second."

"Ugh," Damian groaned, flopping back into the pillows. "Why would you even answer? It's 8am on a Sunday, you get one day off per week. She didn't think you'd be sleeping?"

Jo rolled her eyes, ignoring his assertion. "You picked me up last night, meaning I'm gonna need a ride home, too. So…take care of yourself or whatever and let's go."

/

"Karen, really, you don't have to bring that." Anthony assured her as he buckled Duke into his carseat and Karen climbed into the passenger. "They've forgiven you, and even if they hadn't, I'm not sure that would help."

"The lady said it was the right choice for any occasion. Everyone likes cheese, Anthony," Karen explained.

Closing the door on Duke and starting the car from the driver's seat, Anthony reminded her that: "my Mom can't even eat cheese. And where'd you get that, by the way?"

"In the fridge."

"Our fridge?" Anthony pulled away.

"Yeah, our fridge."

"Well I didn't buy it," he told her. "Did you?"

"Umm…" Karen furrowed her brow, thinking on that. "I'm really not sure."

Anthony glanced over at it in her lap as he stopped at a red light. "What kind is it?"

"White?"

"White? Is it supposed to be white?"

Karen held up the package for examination. "Uh—yes?"

"OK, give me that," Anthony snatched it away from her, tossing it into the back beside Duke. "Just, let's leave it."

"Can we stop and get them some champagne or something, then? We could have mimosas," Karen suggested. "That's fun, right?"

"Both my parents have been retired since I was like 12 years old," Anthony reminded her. "And my Mother is Poison Ivy. They'll have champagne and orange juice on site, don't worry."

Evidently deciding he was right, Karen sighed and leaned back against the headrest. "Fine. I just...do you ever feel like your parents only tolerate me because of Duke?"

"What?" Anthony sounded legitimately surprised as he rounded the final corner on the short drive to their destination. "Karen, you're a dream come true. I'm serious. You're…" he trailed off as he pulled into his parent's driveway. "Head and shoulders above the competition."

Karen followed his gaze to find Jo and Damian sloppily making out on the porch. "Oh…yeah, I might be moving in to 'daughter they never had' territory."

"Rapidly," Anthony agreed, getting out of the car. "Oh, good, so that's still gross," called up to the porch, causing them to break apart in reaction. "Good to know even disgruntled automatons get horny, though, Damian. That'll help me in my research."

"Ironic since that crisp button-down screams 'Stepford husband'." Jo called back. "Your PhD should be in ironing."

"We prefer 'Stepford baby-daddy', thank you." Karen corrected as she came around the car, walking up to the porch with Duke on her hip, Anthony in tow. "Congratulations on your Teen Vogue cover, you two looked…appropriately nauseating."

"Don't remind me," Damian grimaced.

"Yeah, we're relationship goals, heart-eye emoji, heart-eye emoji." Jo deadpanned, but her face broke out into a wide smile when she turned her attention to Duke. "What up, Little D?"

"You're going to give him a complex," Anthony chastised as he knocked on the door.

Pam opened it a moment later, looking uncharacteristically tired. Her Oxford shirt only halfway tucked into her jeans and her hair pulled up into a loose ponytail.

"I guess Mom finally watched The Kids Are Alright." Jo remarked.

"You and you," Pam pointed an accusatory finger at her daughter and then at Damian. "Are so high up my shit list right now you're closing in on Booster Gold."

Jo furrowed her brow. "Isn't he dead?"

"Yes," Pam confirmed. "And if I was given the power to reach into the afterlife only once, I would use it to punch him in the face. That's how much I hate him. That's the company you're keeping. Nevertheless," she exhaled. "Thank you all for coming."

"What's going on, Mom?" Anthony asked, slowly growing concerned. "Is everything Alright?...besides The Kids, I mean."

Jo snorted and Pam drummed her fingers on the doorframe, her eyes narrowing. "Your Mother and I have something to discuss with you," she intoned, her voice barely louder than a whisper, turning into the house and leaving them at the open door.

Jo held out her hand for a low five, which Anthony provided as he stepped into the house, following the familiar path to the living room where he found Pam standing behind Harley…who was sitting in her wheelchair, staring blankly at the ground just in front of her wheels.

"That's quite the throwback," Anthony chuckled as Karen, Damian and Jo filed in behind him.

Harley blinked, raising her gaze to look at them…and it was then Anthony noticed that her eyes were puffy—presumably from crying.

"Can I hold the baby?" she asked, her voice raspy and cracking.

Karen looked at her oddly, and then at Duke. "Yes, of course." She moved forward, gently placing her baby on Harley's lap.

"What's—this is weird," Jo realized. "Seriously, you guys are freaking me out. What's going on?"

Pam cleared her throat. "H—,"

"—I can't walk." Harley cut her off, not breaking eye contact with Duke as she smiled softly at him. "The spell wore off, Zatanna can't cast it again, there's nothing we can do, I can't walk."

Anthony's jaw went slack. "I'm—I'm sorry?"

"I don't want to say it again," Harley told them as she planted a kiss on Duke's cheek. "You're bigger every time I see you, you know that?"

"Wait, Ma," Jo seemed to be having as difficult a time as Anthony processing this. "You mean you're—paralyzed again?"

"Yes," Pam confirmed when Harley didn't answer. "She's not sick or hurt, it's just her body can no longer utilize the spell."

"Ma, I—," Anthony got on his knees so he could look her in the face. "Ma, I'm so sorry! I didn't even—God, I'm so sorry."

Again, Harley didn't answer, but from her clenched jaw and glassy eyes he could tell she was recruiting all her willpower to avoid bursting into tears.

"We wanted to tell you both—or, you all, I should say—in person because although I'm perfectly capable of taking care of her on my own," Pam began. "I did it the first time, after all—there may be times moving forward when my League membership might keep me away from the house, as it sometimes does. So it's possible we'll need to call on you in the future for assistance should I be unavailable."

"Better start putting together a timecard," Harley mumbled sourly.

"Harleen, you know that's not what I mean," Pam scolded. "Please, I'm just trying to be realistic."

"You guys can just go ahead and put me in a nursing home," Harley told them. "I don't care."

"Darling, please," Pam sighed, gently squeezing her shoulders. "This is difficult for everyone. I think the most important thing is that we're here for each other and take the time to understand the challenges that might arise from this new development."

"I have to go," Jo said rather suddenly, backing herself out of the room.

Pam rolled her eyes. "Jolene, what did I just say? Do you think you could manage a shred of maturity?"

Jo shook her head, although it looked like it was more to shake away her surroundings than an answer to her Mother's question. "I have to go." And with that, she turned, quickly exiting the living room and then the house.

Anthony pulled himself to his feet. "I'll go—,"

"—no," Damian stopped him. "I can handle it." He started for the door, and soon it was only Anthony and Karen that remained with Harley and Pam, the baby still on Harley's lap.

"She gets overwhelmed," Anthony attempted to explain away Jo's behavior.

"I know what she does," Harley assured him, smiling halfheartedly as she gently squeezed the rolls of Duke's wrist. "Time to put on her song."

Anthony had only seen Harley in her wheelchair in pictures. This was…surreal. She'd been the most active person he'd ever known—and that was saying something as he'd grown up around Catwoman and every member of the Bat-family. Imagining a world in which his Mother couldn't run, walk, or even stand…it hurt him. Deep in his chest, it hurt.

"Ma, are you…are you gonna be OK?" it was a stupid question, he knew that…but suddenly Anthony realized that ache was fear. Fear and sadness. And his parents had always been there to alleviate that for him. So, still, he needed them to help him, even if, in this moment, he knew he should have been comforting them instead.

Harley's bottom lip quivered and Pam took her cue, lifting Duke off of her lap before Harley spread her arms and Anthony rushed into them.

"I'm sorry, Ma," he said, his voice shaking with emotion. "You're gonna be OK. I mean I know you're gonna be OK."