Harley let her hand creep out from under the blanket to reach out and touch the man's foot on the stretcher they were passing. It was ice cold. "You think he's dead?"
"Yeah, Ma, and I'm gonna need you to keep your hands to yourself," Jo took her arm and pushed it back under the blanket.
"Why would you…take me to a place where people die, Jolene?" Harley wondered, her skin so clammy even the baggy sweatshirt she was wearing was uncomfortable.
"People die everywhere, Ma," Jo reminded her, pushing her through the crowded lobby and up to the counter. "The hospital is also where people get better."
"But—,"
Harley was interrupted by the nurse behind the desk. "Symptoms?" she asked, without looking up.
"Um, fever," Jo told her. "High fever, but—,"
"Take a seat; we'll be with you as soon as possible."
Jo blinked, obviously surprised by the woman's abruptness. "Well, actually, I'd like to speak with the hospital administrator, if that's at all possible."
The nurse finally looked up from her paperwork, plastering a condescending smile on her face. "No, it's not at all possible."
"It's f—fine, we can wa—," Harley's sneeze interrupted her sentence.
Jo cleared her throat. "Ma'am, could you do me the favor of telling me the name of the hospital we're standing in? The one you're employed by?"
The nurse raised an eyebrow, looking at Jo like she was either stupid or lost. "Martha Wayne Memorial Hospital," was her answer.
"Well ain't that just the darndest thing," Jo shook her head with a chuckle, pulling her wallet out of her pocket. "Now, I would ask whose dick I have to suck to get a second look, but lucky me, 22 years ago I sucked the right one." She showed the woman her driver's license. "Jolene Wayne. It's a pleasure to meet you. You might recognize me from your paychecks."
"She's spoiled," Harley apologized as the nurse begrudging picked up the phone.
"Famously," Jo agreed.
/
"Wow…" Harley whistled, doing a slow spin, studying every detail she could take in, her fingers running lightly across the dust laden furniture. "I know a lot of terrible stuff happened to you here, Pamela, but…man, I would'a killed to grow up in a place like this. How'd you keep it?"
Pam let her eyes drift over the shelves, the table, the now-antique radio… "I inherited it," she murmured. "Most people suspected I murdered them, but no one could prove it. And I never let them find the complete bodies, just enough to where it was clear they were dead."
Harley was aware that probably should have freaked her out a bit more, but her job as a psychiatrist was not to judge, and as a wife…as far as she was concerned, they had it coming.
"I never…changed anything, all these years," Pam told her, gesturing vaguely around the parlor. "This is all them."
Dreary. Suffocating. Nothing like how Pam decorated their house—all natural light, bright colors and a photograph on every surface. Here, there were none, save one family photo. Posed. Pamela perhaps 5 years old, wearing a blue dress, expression austere, matching her Mother's almost perfectly. Harley supposed she'd been trained to pose like that.
"Is your bedroom still the same?"
"Yes," Pam chuckled as Harley grinned, the blonde waggling her eyebrows. "Third door on the right," Pam nodded up the stairs.
Harley clasped Pam's hand in her own. "Lead the way."
The redhead obliged with a sigh, ascending the stairs with slow steps, steps that grew heavy as they passed the first door. Pamela quickly looked away, studying her feet until they'd safely passed it.
Briefly, Harley wondered if her wife believed in ghosts. But 9 years was a long time to be married and not realize the woman sleeping next to you is actively worrying about hauntings.
When they arrived at the third door, Pam just stopped. Didn't reach out. Didn't twist the handle. Just stood and stared at the wooden door in front of them.
So Harley took it upon herself, gingerly pushing the door open to find a very…clean room behind it. Books lined the shelves, not a single one crooked. The small bed, made up with ivory sheets and a matching comforter, looked as though Pamela could have just made it this morning. But the plants were dead on the windowsill, and Harley felt Pam's shoulders sink beside her at the sight.
Upon entering the room fully, Harley noticed the first thing she would consider out of place—a scattering of what looked like porcelain shards lying near the far wall. "What happened there?"
When she glanced back at Pam, the redhead was once again starring at her shoes. Her words, when she did speak, came out shaky. "I broke her."
Harley raised an eyebrow. "Her?"
"My friend," Pamela mumbled. "I got angry, and I broke her."
The blonde frowned as she looked back at the shattered porcelain. It must have been a doll, she realized, making out a bright blue eye and a rosy cheek amongst the pieces. "Do you…want to bring her back home with us? We can get some krazy glue, try and put her back together, whaddya say?"
"It's no use," Pamela told her, sitting down on the bed. "I ruined her."
"Well, there's no harm in trying, right?" Harley smiled brightly. "Go find a shoebox or something."
"What's she talking about?" Anthony asked, lowering himself into the second chair by the bed and handing Jo the coffee he'd brought her.
Jo shook her head as she took the cup from him. "I don't know. The doctors have been working to get her fever down, but she's still delirious."
"Have they figured out what's causing it yet?"
Shrugging, Jo said: "they drew blood, took that down to the lab, but have yet to identify an antigen, I guess. They gave her like a 300cc bolus, and have her on 300ml of fluids for the time being. And oxygen," she nodded towards the breathing tube in her nose. "That's all I know."
Anthony grabbed Harley's chart off the foot of the bed to read over it. "Have you…had to tell them anything?"
"No," Jo mumbled, listening as Harley moaned with pain. "Not yet."
"Dr. Layla Leeland?" Anthony read aloud, almost laughing. "Sounds a little comic-booky."
"Exactly what I said," Jo smiled wanly. "She said she'd be back in a few minutes."
"Have you done any background on her yet?" Anthony wondered, placing the chart back where he'd found it. "In case we need to provide some incentive for her to keep our secret?"
"Oh…no," Jo took another sip of her coffee. "I don't have the energy for that. She'll keep our secret, and treat Ma right, or I'll straight up fucking kill her. It's as simple as that."
"Charming."
"Famously."
/
"What is it?" Kara asked, the awe in her voice palpable as she knelt down near a kapok tree.
Ivy smiled. "Well, in appearance, it seems almost identical to the Protea cynaroides, better known as the King Protea or a sugarbush, if you'd prefer the higher classification."
Kara furrowed her brow. "What's—um—what does that mean, exactly?"
"See this?" Ivy prompted, pointing to the bright pink petals surrounding the white, spiny head of the flower. "This is what makes this member of the protea family so distinct. It has the largest flower head in the genus. Still not an exact match to what we have on Earth, though," she explained. "This head is far larger. It actually compares more favorably to ancestors of the king protea I've seen through fossils, ancestors that date back nearly 65 million years, back to when South Africa was a tropical forest."
Kara was shaking her head. "That's…like…mind-boggling. And so awesome! My wife, Lena—,"
"Yes, I know who your wife is, Kara," Ivy laughed, snapping a picture of the flower from yet another angle.
"Right, duh," Kara blushed. "Well she's a total whiz at like mechanical stuff. Engineering is her jam, and I just…I absolutely love that she loves it. She gets so passionate about it, and it makes me so happy to see her eyes light up. But they're machines, you know? Sometimes I don't see what she sees. But I, umm…do you ever bring home flowers from work? Harley must love that, being surrounded by all that beauty all the time."
Ivy studied the flower for another moment before looking over at her colleague. "In truth, Harley doesn't really care for gardening. She insists that I'm her favorite flower," she smiled. "She does like daffodils, though. I built her a window box for our bedroom, so she can look at them while I'm away in the days…" Ivy shrugged. "Whether or not they bring her comfort, I'm not sure, but I'd like to think she has a special fondness for them."
"Lena once filled my entire office with roses," Kara smiled right back. "And I took good care of them, too!" she quickly assured her. "We weren't even dating yet, she just sent them to me"
Ivy grinned. "I sent Harleen a bouquet of daffodils the first day I met her. I believe she saw it as a threat…" the redhead admitted. "Which is partially true, I suppose. But…she was also really cute."
Kara giggled. "I like your love story."
"Yeah," Ivy smiled down at the flower. "Me too."
/
Day 6
"Can I watch the video, Jolene?" Harley croaked, her voice hoarse. "Did she send the video yet?"
"…Jo?"
She looked over to find her daughter asleep, curled up on one of the chairs beside the bed, wearing her white leather jacket like a blanket.
"Jolene," Harley tried again, reaching her hand out this time, careful not to jostle her iv too much. "I wanna watch the video, OK?"
But before she could poke her, Carrie was entering through the door, dressed in her Sunday best, a duffle bag under her arm. "Hey, how about we let her sleep a little, eh, Dr. Q?" she whispered with a smile, taking Harley's outstretched hand on her own and squeezing gently as she sat down in the empty chair.
"You look nice," Harley smiled weakly at the redhead.
"Courtney makes me go to church with her on Sundays," Carrie explained with a soft smile. "But yeah, I clean up pretty nice, right?"
"So nice," Harley assured her, earnestness replacing the smile on her face. "Caroline, can you help me?"
"Yeah, anything."
"Pammy sent me a video from outer space," she told her. "And they told me how to open it on my phone…but I—,"
"Say no more," Carrie pat her hand, placing it back under the covers, and grabbed the cellphone from the bedside table, opening the new video with a few short clicks. Then she held it up so Harley could see.
"Hi!" Pam greeted happily, the sound jolting Jo awake in the chair. "First official day here, sun up to sundown, so it'll mostly just be work for me, but Kara and Beast Boy are going exploring, and they promised they'd take a civilian camera to get some footage for you."
Harley grinned at that.
"I…found this flower that reminded me of you," Pam said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear almost shyly, before she reached down below the camera and came back with a bright yellow flower encased in glass. "I know you're not terribly enthusiastic about gardening, but…"
"Please tell me about it," Harley whispered.
"It's similar in appearance to a Blackeyed Susan, but as you can see…" Pam smiled as she brought it closer to the camera. "Instead of black, the 'eye' of the flower is—,"
"Blue," Harley breathed.
"—blue. Like your eyes, and the yellow is like your…" Pam cleared her throat, blushing slightly as she set the flower back down. "You get the point. I don't want to bore you, I just…want to thank you for encouraging me to come here, it's…I'm honestly not sure I'd trade this experience for anything in the world."
The doctor came in just as Ivy was blowing her a kiss. "Be good."
"I love you," Harley whispered back.
"Good morning, Dr. Quinzel," the doctor—a woman, roughly Anthony's age and Jo's height, with tanned skin and short, dark hair—greeted. "I'm glad you seem to be feeling a bit better."
"My wife called me," Harley smiled happily.
The doctor cleared her throat. "Will she be arriving soon?"
"Only 8 more days," Harley told her. "Hopefully I'll be outta here by then."
"Right," the woman smiled placidly at her, then rested her hand on Jo's shoulder, who jumped at the contact. "Mrs. Wayne, can we speak outside for a moment?"
"Um, yeah," Jo mumbled, wiping the sleep from her eyes and setting her jacket on the arm of the chair. "I'll be right back, Ma. You think you can keep Carrie entertained?"
Harley gave her a thumbs up below the blanket and Jo followed Dr. Leeland out of the room, leaning against the wall just outside as the door shut behind them, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Her blood cultures come back?" Jo wondered.
The doctor sighed. "They did, yes."
"And?" Jo impatiently prompted.
Pursing her lips, Layla said: "And I'm pretty confused by the results, in all honesty. You seem like an intelligent woman, and your Mother herself is a doctor, so I'm a little confused as to why you'd omit relevant information from the medical history you provided for her."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Look," Dr. Leeland sighed. "Jolene—can I call you Jolene?"
"You can call me whatever the fuck you want, as long as you get my Mother out of that hospital bed."
Leaning against the wall now as well, the woman said: "her immune system is collapsing. It's going fast, and hard, and aside from old age, we've really got nothing to pin it on. She's dying, quite frankly. And her body is absorbing antigens like some flood gate has suddenly been opened."
"God-fucking-damnit," Jo cursed, waiting for the passing nurse to disappear down the hall, and then grabbing the doctor suddenly by the collar of her shirt, silencing her before she could yelp with a firm hand over her mouth, and wrestling her into the janitor's closet, pushing her against the shelf of chemicals and shutting the door swiftly behind them.
/
Day 7
"Shhhh…" Pam clamped her hand over Harley's mouth as the footsteps grew closer, but refused to remove her fingers, causing Harley to whimper and squirm where she was pinned against the wall. "You're going to get me fired," she teased in a whisper.
"Mmm—mm—mmm," Harley tried to force out despite Pam's hand, before the footsteps fell away and Pam removed it. "Bruce once forgot to turn off his comm during one of he and Selina's rooftop rendezvous," Harley laughed. "There's no way he's firing you for this."
"They'll be serving food soon," Pam reminded her. "Are you sure you don't want to get back to the party?"
"Umm…" the blonde yanked her into a rather sloppy, overzealous kiss. "Yep, pretty sure. And there's something else on your menu anyway. Can't be sure, but I really don't think they're serving it at the party."
"Fine," Pam sighed, though her smirk betrayed her as she sunk to her knees.
"Yeah," Harley's eyes rolled back in her head as she grabbed a fist-full of red hair. "Pretty damn sure."
Harley stared blankly up at the ceiling in a pool of sweat, her mind blinking in and out of reality.
That was fine, she decided. She saw how nervous her kids were, how they clutched her hands, pacing nervously, never straying more than a few feet from her room.
She didn't envy them.
Reality seemed overrated at this point.
"Our girl." Tears gathered in Harley's eyes as she held her for the first time, felt her soft skin below her fingers, the sounds of her cries like music to her ears.
Pam smiled proudly, holding Anthony to her side, the boy standing on his tippy-toes to get a better look at his little sister.
Harley's heart danced in her chest at the sight of the baby's bright green eyes, her lashes fluttering open with an already natural elegance. "You really are Jolene, aren't you?"
So many…so many beautiful things she'd seen.
Harley smiled to herself. She'd wanted to be a Mom so bad when she was little. She just wanted to take care of everything, all the…puppies and the…kittens, and the…birds and the babies, too. Her babies had been so beautiful. And then her babies had babies, and they were beautiful too.
"I want to see my grandbabies," Harley hoped she said that aloud. There was really no way to tell. She was hot, and cold, and confused and her whole body ached, and the ringing in her ears just wouldn't stop. "Please? Can I see them?"
"Of course, Ma," there was a hand on Harley's forehead now. Anthony, my sweet boy. "Duke should be here in a few minutes, and the triplets will be by this afternoon, as soon as they get out of school."
"Mama, do you…think people will like me? Even though I have two moms?" Anthony wondered, a slight frown in his features.
Harley frowned herself, pulling him up higher on her lap and using the comb to find his hair's natural part. "Why would they dislike you because of that? Everybody likes moms."
"Well, Damian said most boys have a Dad to teach them dad-stuff," Anthony explained. "Like how to fight and be tough."
Harley chuckled, kissing the section of hair she'd just brushed, messing it up just a bit, though that was fixed with another comb-through. "In case you weren't aware, Little Man, I'm a pretty tough lady," she informed him. "I actually work with Damian's Dad, bein' tough and stuff. And you've seen some of the awesome stuff Mom can do, right?"
"Yeah," Anthony grinned.
"Well, then wham, bam, thank you, Ma'am," she alternated playful punches with each word. "What more do you need?"
He was silent for a moment before he turned around in her lap, looking up at her with big blue eyes, lip quivering slightly. "I don't have to be tough, though, do I?"
"You don't have to be anything you don't want to be," Harley assured him, giving him a boop on the nose. "Except for my baby. You always gotta be that. It's mandatory."
"Even when my sister comes?" the boy asked, his voice small.
Harley smiled, pressing a kiss against his forehead. "Especially when your sister comes."
"Hey, Nana," Daisy was smiling above her, holding her hand, not seeming to care how clammy it was. "Can you believe it? 56 years without a cold, and you let Mom babysit you for like 4 days and end up here. Classic."
Harley thought to laugh, she wanted to laugh. In her head, she did laugh. And that had to be good enough. "She never…made any money…babysitting."
"Yeah, well, that's because we were rich, and I didn't have to," Jo reminded her.
"Excuses, excuses," Delilah teased, standing on Harley's other side. "I bet Grandma'll be really happy to see you. Only 5 more days."
Harley blinked. "No, that's…no that's not…Jolene," she felt her heart beat faster in her chest. "I missed a video, I missed so many videos."
Jo pushed the sweat-dampened hair back from her Mother's face. "Only two, Ma. You've been sleeping a lot. The doctor said that's good."
"Did she…tell you what was wrong?" Harley asked, trying to focus her eyes. "Does she know why I'm so sick?"
"She's got a pretty good guess," Jo told her. "We're going to discuss it with Mom when she gets back."
"Oh! I—I want to see the videos. I missed all the videos," Harley repeated. "Did she send them?"
"She did, check it out," Terry smiled, turning her phone around so that she could see.
The video started with some aerial shots of a lush, green landscape…Harley wished she was there. She wished she was with Pam. Not that Pam was here, in this dreary hospital. Pam hated hospitals, but she loved the forest, and Harley loved warm weather.
Harley giggled as she rolled them over on the sand, peppering playful kisses on Pam's cheeks, and then her lips, running her fingers lightly over the swell of her breasts below her bikini, and down her bare stomach.
"You know what I hate about vacations?" Pam prompted, not quite responding to Harley's tickling how she imagined.
"What?" Harley asked, her mood sobering at the look in Pam's eyes.
Pam leaned up on her elbows until their lips were only a breath apart. "They always have to end."
Pam cursed when the camera wouldn't balance, so she set it on the ground, giving them just a shot of her bare feet. But that didn't last long, because something grabbed the camera and raised itself until they could see her face. Harley guessed she'd summoned a vine or a root.
"Sorry about that, Harl. I hope the video worked for you, Damian—what was the word?" she asked, turning her head off camera.
"Spliced!" Damian called back.
"Spliced," Pam nodded back at the camera. "He said he'd splice the video Kara took for you and add it at the beginning of this video. Isn't this planet absolutely gorgeous?"
"Not as gorgeous as you, Pammy," Harley assured her.
"Oh! And you'll never believe what we saw!" Pam's eyes lit up with excitement. "We saw a creature that very closely resembled…wait for it…" she grinned.
"I wanna know!"
"A Dilophosaurus," Pam sounded like she didn't quite believe her own words. "I know how much you love dinosaurs, and Harley—they're living here. Truly. I saw it with my own two eyes."
"Did you get a picture?" Harley asked, her eyes filling with tears.
"And I got a picture! I—look!" Pam held up the screen of another camera, close enough that Harley could see the creature's rough skin. It really was a dinosaur.
Duke chuckled softly beside her, wiping her tears as they fell down her cheek. "I didn't know you were so into dinosaurs, Nana."
"I promise I'll take more if he shows up again," Pam told her. "Kara played scrabble with me last night because it was scrabble night, of course," she chuckled to herself. "I imagined you and Anthony sitting at the table doing the same thing, and I sincerely hope you kicked his ass."
Harley smiled weakly, turning to Anthony, who stood in the corner of the room. "Did we play scrabble?"
Sliding his hands into his pockets, Anthony nodded, smiling without teeth. "She's right. You kicked my ass."
/
Day 14
Jo paced back and forth on the sidewalk outside the hospital, her phone pressed to her ear, checking her watch over and over.
"You've reached Penelope Quinzel," Pam's voicemail said. "I'm sorry I'm away at the moment. If you leave a message, I'll get back to you at my earliest convenience."
Jo sighed just before the beep, and then launched in. "Mom, when you touch down you're gonna be hit with a wave of shit. Ma's in the hospital, and she's...fuck, she's really sick. Like really sick. Martha Wayne, OK? Me and Anthony are already here, just meet us, alright? But listen—you gotta give me a call when you're headed over. It's imperative that you don't come bursting in, guns blazing. I'm serious, Mom. Please. I'll meet you outside and get you up to speed."
/
"Well, I really don't see what that has to do with me," Pam shrugged, buttoning her blazer and turning her phone on. "If you forget your toothpaste, you forget your toothpaste. That's not my problem, it's my daughter's."
"I'm just saying, forcing me to use Kara's kiddy unicorn paste or whatever the fuck is pretty cruel, even for you," Damian bent over to tie his shoe.
Pam frowned at her phone screen. "Speaking of my daughter…" she clicked on the notification. "She left me a voicemail…"
Damian looked up at her. "You're lying. There's nothing she irrationally hates more."
"Note the surprise in my voice," Pam held the phone to her ear. "Mom, when you touch down you're gonna be hit with a wave of shit. Ma's in the hospital, and she's...fuck, she's really sick. Like really sick. Martha Wayne, OK? Me and Anthony are already here, just meet us, alright? Bu—," Pam dropped the phone to her side, a look of horror on her face.
"What?" Damian looked puzzled, but that quickly melted into concern. "Is she OK? Are the kids alright?"
Pam turned without answering him, beginning at a sprint towards the parking lot, stopping at the door to kick her heels off.
/
"You're a menace, Harley Quinzel!" the lifeguard shouted at her for the thousandth time. "DON'T RUN ON THE DECK!"
"Hey, cool whistle, lady!" Harley giggled as she ran and cannonballed into the pool, splashing her brother in the face. Sucker forgot to close his eyes too. "Ha! Beat that!" she challenged as she broke through the surface.
Her brother splashed her right back. "You're gonna get us kicked out, Harley."
"Pfft, fat chance," Harley laughed, turning to the lifeguard. "This here is my pool, Lady. Ask anybody!"
Jo chuckled, lifting her head from where it lay on Harley's leg. "You totally got kicked out, didn't you?"
Harley just nodded. "So," she coughed. "Now you see…why I'm…going to hell."
"Ma, stop it," Anthony waved her off with a surprising degree of earnestness. "I know you didn't raise us religious, but I'm still pretty sure that's not how it works."
"Nope," Harley shook her head as best she could. "Let's be real, guys. The devil wants me something fierce."
"Alright, fine," Anthony acquiesced, clearly fighting to keep his tears at bay. "What are you going to do once you get to Hell?"
Harley smiled wide enough to show her teeth. "I'm gonna…find your mom's mother…show her these fingers," she held up her shaking index and middle fingers, "no wait, scratch that…These fingers," she amended, adding her ring finger to the ensemble. "Tell her…they spent…a considerable amount of time inside her daughter…and then poke her in the eyes with 'em."
Jo burst out laughing—she seemed unable to help herself. "That's a fantastic plan."
Anthony was less impressed, but his eyeroll was clearly affectionate.
Slowly, the smile began to drain from Harley's face. "I'm so tired," she said, her words nothing more than wispy breaths at this point. "I'm…fighting…working…so hard."
"We know, Ma," Anthony assured her, his voice choked with emotion. "We know, but you gotta wait for Mom."
"Is…Pammy coming?" Harley wondered, hope in her eyes, though it was hard to discern with their now clouded appearance. "I…miss her…so much."
"We know," Anthony repeated, letting a tear slip down his cheek as he brushed gentle fingers through her hair. "And we're going to stay right here until she comes. Right by your side."
"You're...such a good boy, Anthony," Harley told him, her voice full of admiration. "Such a…kind…kind man. Thank you. So…so…much."
"For what?" Anthony wiped his eyes. "It's me who should be thanking you."
Harley shook her head gently. "Thank you…. for…being my Son. Number 4…I'm so…happy it was you."
Wordlessly, Anthony squeezed her hand, laying his head down on her chest. "It was my pleasure," he finally breathed, his tears creating a wet spot on the blanket, Harley's hand moving to rest atop his head.
That's when the door slammed open. Pam standing, panting, in the doorway. "Harleen! I—," she moved quickly to her side, taking the place beside her Anthony had just vacated because of how severely he'd been startled. She looked absolutely terrified. "Gaia, Baby, I'm so sorry! I'm—,"
"No!" Jo shouted as Pam went to kiss her, grabbing her Mother by the shoulders and yanking her backwards. "You're poison! Christ, she doesn't have an immune system right now! That's what I tried to fucking tell you in the message, did you not listen?! I said call me before you got here!"
"Jo, it's fine, I'll take care of it," Anthony said, putting a kind arm around Pam's shoulder, turning her stricken expression away from Harley and Jo and out the door, which he closed behind them as he led Pam back into the hallway.
"Fuck!" Jo yelled, trying to take deep breaths to calm herself. "She could have killed you just then!"
Harley's eyes had welled up with tears, and she had to swallow three times before she was able to speak. "I…want…to see her."
"Ma, fuck," Jo ran a hand through her hair, grabbing the roots at the base of her scalp. "She's gotta get a hazmat suit on. She's the reason why you're here in the first place."
Harley's eyes widened. "You…you can't…she can't know…you can't tell her that."
Jo shook her head, pulling harder. "This has to be about you right now, Ma. This can't be about her."
Softening with sympathy, Harley gazed up at her daughter. When she held out a shaking hand, Jo took it, sitting back down in the chair. "Baby," she whispered, cupping Jo's face in her hand. "She's who I was waiting for."
Jo closed her eyes, clutching her Mother's hand closer to her cheek. "But that means you're leaving the rest of us."
Harley nodded subtly. "She's…my person."
Green eyes filling with tears, Jo turned her face to kiss Harley's palm. "Then, I have to go."
Harley nodded again, using all her strength to pull her daughter close and whisper: "you were just a kid. I forgave you a long time ago."
/
Pam watched Jo emerge from the room, wiping away her tears and leaving the door open behind her for Pam. All she offered was a nod—one for both she and Anthony—before starting down the hallway, towards the elevator.
"Where are you going?" Anthony shouted after her.
"I don't know," Jo answered, her voice cracking as the elevator doors shut on her.
Pam stared into the hospital room, her feet frozen to the spot. No, was all she could think. Please, God, no.
Anthony quietly sniffed beside her, nodding into the room. "She needs to see you."
The first thing Pam noticed, once she got a good look at her, was that Harley's skin had lost nearly all its color. She was as white as a ghost, as white as Selina.
Her forehead was wet with sweat, her eyes were cloudy, and her lips were chapped. She looked…already dead, aside from the subtle flick of her tongue against her bottom lip, the twitch of her pupil…
Harleen…
The regret in that moment. The remorse. Pam was sure she was about to be sick. She hated herself so much.
"I never should have left," she whispered.
But Harley shook her head, a tear rolling down her cheek. "You…wouldn't…trade it…for anything," she reminded her.
"No, Harleen, I would!" Pam assured her, sitting down in the chair beside her. "I'd trade all of it for even another moment here with you."
"You…don't…want to see me…like this," Harley whispered. "I'm 26…remember? With…big tits, and…a…nice ass."
Pam chuckled through the tears that had gathered in her eyes. "The you that's sitting in front of me, is always my favorite you. Because she's the one I get to have right now."
Harley stared silently for a moment, just watching her, and Pam waited as tears began to flow down her wife's pale cheeks. "I'm scared, Red."
"Why?" Pam whispered.
"I'm afraid I'll miss you," Harley admitted as her tears pooled on her jaw, stopped by the blankets.
Then you can't be afraid, Pamela. You have to be brave.
"Oh, I'm not so great," Pam wiped her eyes. "I am small. Insignificant. Especially in comparison to the journey you're about to embark on. Where you're going? I can't follow. And that's a fault of mine, not yours. Grow bigger than me," she smiled as best she could.
Harley smiled right back, hers equally pained, tears still falling down her cheeks. "You're so…perfect, Pammy."
Pam shook her head, getting out of the chair to kneel beside her, clutching her hand to her chest. "I'm too human to be perfect. But perfect or not, you, Harleen Quinzel, are the best thing that ever happened to me."
This smile was more genuine, less sad. "Can I have a kiss?"
Shaking her head again, Pam said: "You heard Jo. You're not strong enough."
Harley brushed her thumb across Pam's knuckles. "I know."
Bruce…Selina…Harley. Her best friends and the love of her life. The love of a thousand lifetimes. She'd snuffed each one out. That's what Harley was asking of her. Just like Bruce, and just like Selina. She needed Pam's help. She was suffering. But…but Pam didn't understand! She'd—only a moment ago—been so happy! She was coming home to a family that loved her, not to…this. Not a hospital room, not a dying wife.
"I wasn't prepared to say goodbye," Pam murmured, dropping her head, shoulders shaking. "I…wanted to show you pictures of dinosaurs."
"Come here," Harley tried to pull her onto the bed by her shoulders, but of course she was too weak do to it on her own, so Pam had to climb in beside her, settling on her side, her arm around Harley's waist—the same position they woke up in every morning. "Will…will you wait…for me?" she asked, blue eyes on Pam's lips rather than her eyes.
Pam nodded against the pillow. "In every timeline. In every universe. I'd choose you every time, Harleen Quinzel."
Harley brushed a strand of red hair behind Pam's ear, fingers lingering on her cheek, trailing across her jaw… "Tu es…mon Totino."
Pam blinked. "What?"
And Harley smiled, showing her teeth this time, wide and genuine. "I love you. So much, Pamela. So much. This life you gave me…was so much better than I deserved."
This time, when Harley leaned in to kiss her, Pamela didn't close her eyes. But she did watch as Harley closed hers. Got her final look at those bright blue irises before they closed forever. Blissfully, though. And Pamela kissed her as only she could. Drinking her in. All of her. Until there was nothing left.
In loving memory of
Harleen Frances Quinzel
A Wife, A Mother, and A Truly Unique Individual
1971-2053
"Everybody deserves somebody."