Key of Dreams

by Jebest4781

Through a chance encounter whilst sleeping within his Somebody's heart, Roxas met an entity who'll change his existence more than he realized. Rated M for language, violence, etc. Pairings hidden at current time. KHxDC Comics Cowritten by free man writer. Please leave reviews.

12. Suicide Squad

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Disney, Square Enix or Detective Comics. They rightfully belong to their respective owners.

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

Radio/TV

"Headset/Flashback"

-Scene Shift-

Chapter 12: Suicide Squad

There was a morning shower going on today. It was relatively cool at the tail end of March as it's nearly transitioning into April.

A large white van with the logo of Panda Deliveries rode down a road, soon pulling to the front security gate of Van Criss Laboratories outside of Gotham.

At the security station, the guard rolled up his safety window to address the driver.

"ID and credentials, please."

"I'm not an employee here."

"I know."

"Look, I got a delivery." The driver went to his passenger seat where a clipboard was placed. "I've got a gift basket for one… Dr. Van Criss." He said, looking at the form he had.

"You're not on the access list. I can't let you in. Sorry."

"Hey, it's fine man. I'm just dropping this off." The driver unbuckled his seatbelt so he could momentarily get off the seat. His form partially disappeared from the guard's point of view before coming back with a plastic-wrapped gift basket. "Mind if I leave it with you? You can call up the guy if you want. I just have to drop this and go. Got other deliveries today."

With some reluctance, the security guard brought out his hands from the security station window. The driver handed over the gift basket soon after.

"Thank you. You're a good man."

A second passed after placing the gift down, and the basket exploded, sending the guard flying back and soon rendering him unconscious.

From the Panda Deliveries van, the back door opened up. Filing out, one by one, were various costumed men carrying assault rifles. They consisted of two men wearing shark-like masks in a black and white color scheme, a man in a panda suit, one wearing a mountain goat mask, two giant eyeball helmets, a crying baby mask, and a pair wearing 'tragedy and comedy' masks.

All of whom followed one man in particular. And presently, they began storming the facility.

The sounds of gunfire filled the air, muffled as it was if one could hear outside of the building. If they were inside, they'd see a litany of bodies dropping onto the floor. The security personnel were the majority of the dead, others were doing their best to protect the scientists and engineers by getting them to the lockdown bunkers.

Rolling into the parking lot, several more vans and trucks made their appearance. The last one to arrive had a pair of individuals coming out of a roofless, purple sports car. Wasn't long before they walked right into the facility. Seeing a number of the "goods", the woman of the pair comments upon closer inspection.

"Oh boy, these are all lovely, Mistah J!" The psycho clown-lady cheerfully said.

"They sure do, Harley." Stated an even more deranged psycho clown-man.

The woman was a bleached blonde with baby blue eyes behind a domino mask which carried a variety of emotions. Her attire was a red and black jester jumpsuit. If you were to draw a line down her middle, you could see that each side was the opposite of color on varying sections along with diamond accents. Her bleached blonde hair was tucked into the jester hood with two cotton balls hanging off each end which matched the cotton white cuffs on her wrists. What skin was exposed on her face was white. For some, they believe it was all makeup. In reality, her skin was bleached white.

This was Harley Quinn.

The man was a tall, slender man, with chalk white skin, ruby red lips and a head of bright green hair falling down in a mop style. His most distinguishing feature, however, is his massive and wide smile that is constantly on his face, giving him a sinister sort of appearance at all times. He is most commonly seen wearing a purple suit with an orange and green undershirt, a flower on his lapel, skinny-leg pants, a skinny purple tie and a silver chain at his waist.

And this was the Joker.

"Load these all up." He orders his men.

While the gang members were obtaining crates of military hardware, the Joker spots something within a containment area. Entering the space, he saw an experimental chemical weapon, which gave him a larger smile on his face.

He would've proceeded further, yet a damage-proof glass separated the deranged clown from his intended target.

"Open up." Said the Joker, blinking his eyes as "pleasantly" as he was able to. "Pretty please?"

The scientist inside shook his head 'No'.

The green-haired master criminal released a false sigh of disappointment. Whirling around to his henchmen, The Joker snaps his fingers, having a goon pull out a tablet. Once in his hand, the Clown Prince of Crime pulled up a live video feed before slapping the device right up to the damage-proof glass.

Upon looking, the scientist inside paled at what he was seeing. It was his wife, with a knife up against her throat.

"J-Just please, do wh-whatever they say." Said the scientist's wife. "Do whatever they say. Just do it."

Fearing for his wife's life, the man pressed a button near the door, unlocking it.

"Now that wasn't so hard." The Joker said to the scientist with cheerful sadism. "You look stressed. You should lighten up more." He positioned himself as the flower on his lapel was facing the facility worker. "You should laugh more."

As this was said, a puff of gas sprayed out of the flower and struck the scientist. He began coughing before he began releasing fits of laughter. He soon choked as a result while the laughs continued. Wasn't long before the man fell down, wheezing as he kept laughing in pure derangement for minutes on end.

As this all occurred, the Joker checked the chemicals. He nodded along the way, seeing he found what he desired here in the first place.

Harley wasn't far behind. She had returned from helping some of the Joker's goons load up some of the weapon crates and intended to report. This action was sidetracked when seeing the Joker's present focus of interest.

"What's all this for, pud-"

*SMACK*

All Harley got for her troubles was a backhand to the face.

"That would ruin the surprise." Said the Joker, stern-sounding and with a slightly annoyed frown.

Harley quickly nodded, holding part of her face where it was hit.

"R-Right…" She stammered out, trying to shake off the slap.

Joker paid her no mind, focusing more on his henchmen. "Load these up too."

The men complied as they went like clockwork to get everything out as quickly as possible. They had a time limit if there was a silent alarm or someone called for help. Rare that it was of no one sounding it off, making them clean out the place all the more easily.

The sound of a radio cracking to life was heard from Joker's hip. "Boss, I'm hearing police sirens. Expect company to arrive soon."

Hearing the warning from his lookout, Joker ordered his men to wrap things up and leave.

The goons hurried up to load whatever else into the vans and trucks. They floored it and quickly fled from the facility to the hideouts for the Joker's upcoming orders.

The last ones to leave were Joker and Harley, the former driving his car once punching it. Wheels quickly turned, propelling the one car down the road into Gotham.

The police were after many of the crew who were spread out by this point. A number of cop cars, however, were on the tail of Joker and Harley.

A lot was happening at this time of the day on Gotham's streets. Usually, the city is more "exciting" as the sun goes down. Yet there are the occasional mornings where it shows crime is never exclusive to the nighttime.

The Joker swiftly moved his ride along the streets. Nearly hitting several pedestrians but having grazed a few passing cars. This caused some of the police vehicles chasing after them to slow down or halt completely so they didn't cause any further harm.

At that moment, a motorcycle appeared on the streets. Sleek black with white lights. It sped after the Joker, who quickly noticed it.

Seeing this as well during a quick turn, Harley looked over from her seat and was able to know one thing.

"It ain't the Bat, Robin, or Batgirl, but they sure look like 'em." Quinn noted.

All black clothing with a hood drawn up to obscure their features. And their motorcycle was something that wasn't exactly their style from what Joker and Harley knew of them. What neither of them knew was that this person was Roxas.

The Joker caused a pair of cars to crash into each other, blocking the road. This had the Clown believe his chaser would lose more ground. But from what he saw from the rearview mirror, the cyclist apparently had his ride leap over the two vehicles and land before resuming the pursuit.

Seeing this, he momentarily glanced at Harley before focusing back on the road.

"Harley, be a dear and take care of our tailgater." Joker ordered with sweet evil in his smile and tone.

"Ya got it!"

Rising from her seat, she withdrew an assault rifle and fired upon him. The Nobody swerved out of the way, quickly avoiding the incoming fire.

Joker took a sharp turn from a construction sight where the road was dug up. The Keybearer did the same with little to no loss of momentum. In the air, police sirens were heard as the GCPD were making their appearance. Some were even quick to swerve onto the one street to hopefully catch up to the Joker. In response, Harley fired upon the law enforcement.

As one police car surprisingly got close to the Joker's car, its driver harshly bashed them to the side, having it crash into a cement barrier. The one right behind it didn't have time to break as it crashed and flipped over the previous one. The cyclist sped forward, avoiding the one-flipped car that crashed onto the street and rolled soon after.

Looking from the rearview mirror, Joker frowned when seeing none of that stopped the one cyclist from catching up with them. He glances back at Harley and notices she's no longer buckled up, due to her still firing at their pursuer.

Needing a distraction, the Joker smiles as he glances at Harley. "Oh, Harley~~~"

"Yes Mistah-"

She was practically kicked out of the car. More like thrown out, due to the Joker taking a sudden harsh turn where Harley wasn't able to brace herself properly. This resulted in her tumbling out and serving as a distraction for his pursuers as he fled from the scene.

"Should've buckled for safety." He mused to himself with a laugh as he went to one of his many hideouts in Gotham.

If he ever bothered to look back, he'd see Harley crash hard against the street and tumble right to the side of a building.

Back with Harley Quinn, she was groaning in pain and tried to get back up. She clenched her head and in some movement, Harley ended up prying the domino mask off her face. She heard the sounds of tires squealing and halting before some digitized sound filled the air. Looking up, she saw the hooded figure quickly approach her.

With the assault rifle still in her hand, she had the means to fire, but she almost fell over and dropped her weapon in the process. Her face would've met the pavement if it weren't for the hooded one to catch her.

"I got you." Harley heard the person say. It was a teenage boy from what she could tell. She almost mistook him for Birdboy if it weren't for his attire. "Take it easy." She felt herself being lowered back down and leaned against the wall. "Are you-"

Whatever he tried to say next fell on deaf ears as Harley Quinn's senses were beginning to grow hazy.

In truth, she quickly went out like a light. To the rest of the world, she went unconscious due to what happened.

Seeing this, Roxas quickly "dived in" after her.

As her mind rested in the Dreaming, things were quickly odd for her. She didn't understand what her surroundings were and didn't know if she was conscious or unconscious, courtesy of the one pursuer was still there with her.

"Are you alright?" Asked the hooded teen.

"Huh?" Groaned out Harley, feeling weightless, almost "stumbling" in the air itself.

"I asked if-"

"No, I heard ya, kid." Harley shook her head a little. "But what were you talking about?"

"The tumble you took before being knocked out." The hooded teen frowned. "He shouldn't have done that to you." His gaze shifted slightly. "It gave you some possible bruises in the fall. But it doesn't explain the one by your eye."

Harley's eyes widened at the comment. Her hand reached for her left eye, but she shook her head at the last moment. "N-No! This has nothing to do with it!" She yelled.

No. XIII reeled back slightly from that outburst. That certainly came from nowhere.

"Uh, are you alrig-"

"Don't look at it." Quinn cried out, turning away from him.

Roxas could see that her conviction was wavering by the look of things. "Did someone do this to you?" She stayed silent. "I guess I'm right… aren't I..."

"No," she answered quite quickly. "H-He loves me. I-I deserve his love. I've earned it, I know I have."

Roxas frowned some more. He never made any implication of someone close to her hitting her. He soon saw the signs of what this person was, and he didn't like it at all on her faltered statement. Love was something he wasn't entirely familiar with but… he was confident it wasn't supposed to be something like this.

"Whether he loves you or not, it's obvious that he doesn't respect you."

"I… I..." She didn't know how to respond to that.

'What kind of person was she involved with?' He thought with a frown. He spoke soon after. "Was there ever a moment he put you ahead of his own desires?"

As this question was spoken, Harley's thoughts and mind halted. It is racing but becoming difficult to work with. She was having trouble breathing, soon hiccuping in a bit of duress.

Before she knew it, the hooded teen-

"W-What are you doing?" Harley stammered out, completely thrown by the young man's gesture.

"You looked like you needed a hug." Was all Roxas said, gently rubbing her back.

Harley was dumbfounded by the act. No malicious intent. Nothing during combat. Just something… genuinely selfless.

The last time she was hugged in such a way was with Ivy.

And it made her feel so helpless.

Without realizing it, Harley slowly wrapped her arms around him, returning the hug.

Whatever smile she had to keep up on her face for appearance's sake, died. All she did was cry. She cried as much as she wanted.

"Are you okay?" He asks, while not minding the tears he probably felt coming from her.

"I… I don't know." Harley admits. "I'm just so… tired…"

All she got was some patting on her back as she kept sniffling and crying.

Roxas opened his mouth to say something when both heard something in the air.

"Wake up."

"Huh?" Harley quizzically voices.

"Wake up, inmate."

"What's going on?"

"You're waking up." The hooded teen responded with, soon breaking the embrace; much to her confusion and dismay.

She soon woke up, feeling groggy with what happened. She felt something wet on her cheeks. Reaching, her fingers felt the familiar wetness of tears.

"Only a dream." She muttered. "Only just a dream."

Harley soon found herself in a prison transport. Her ankles and wrists were shackled to the floor. And glancing on each side were a number of guards being attentive to her direction.

When rolling her neck, Harley felt some cold constrictment. Her one hand came up and felt it, soon realizing what it was.

She was going back into her cell at Arkham. Nothing new about that, except for the inhibitor collar she now wore. Itches though now that she thought about it. Aside from that, the time she had outside was a good one after the massive breakout that happened weeks ago.

'Wonder who was already sent back by now.' Ponders Harley. 'Doubt Ivy would be there as I hadn't heard a thing about her since we… left…'

Her mind drifts back to weeks ago when the world apparently went through its own nightmare. The inmates at Arkham were able to overpower the guards when the security systems went off. As far as Harley knew at the time, just about everyone vacated the place and headed to parts unknown.

She could still remember Ivy dragging her along. Harley was staying at her place as the heat died down. She even recalls their last conversation together.

"...All I'm saying is that you can do better than Joker." Pam told her. "You're smart and strong. And you can control your own destiny."

"Leave Joker for who? Some reliable square who thinks he's "quirky" for playin' on a dodgeball team and calls himself a "beer nerd"?" Was her rhetorical set of questions.

"Okay, I know you're talking about Dan. It was my first year at Sarah Lawrence, there were very slim pickings."

"I'm just sayin' the Joker's excitin'. He's challenging. He's exotic."

"He's psychotic."

"He made me what I am today."

"He doesn't have to define who you are. I mean, seriously. This isn't the first time the Joker's left you and left you to rot. Ya have to leave him. And don't say "You don't know him like I do". Hell, Nygma and a lot of others actually agree with me on this that you sound like a broken record."

Before Harley knew it, she snuck out the next day to get back to Joker… like she always did.

'Maybe I am the crazy one.' She frowned in thought. 'I wonder if she's still doing okay.'

Harley could already imagine Ivy now. Her tending to her plants. Making some new solutions to help the flora of the world. Even being talked to by some people for some collaboration project for some apparent scheme.

'Distracting herself… of me leavin' her.'

Whatever thoughts that were coming next were screeched to a halt, just like the screeching of the tires with the following of the lurch of the prison transport.

"On your feet." Said one of the guards.

"Yeah, yeah." Harley drawls out, well used to this by now.

Upon exiting the vehicle, she saw a very large space where the transport was parked. Something very unfamiliar to her.

"Wait a second." Harley whirls around in her spot. "This ain't Arkham."

"Of course it's not." The guard gruffly said.

The clown-themed villain tilted her head in thought. "Blackgate?"

It's been years since she's been behind its walls when she was an intern. Last time she was there was when she finished grad school and got her license so she could apply for Arkham. Harley knew they renovated… several times, due to a number of breakouts.

"Wrong." Spoke a woman's voice. Harley looked up and saw an African-American woman with short-ish black hair with decently fine clothes that seemed to stand out from typical business attire. She was standing on a higher level looking down on her like some sort of god to lesser, insignificant people. "In fact, Ms. Quinn, you're a long way from home."

"Who are you supposed to be?" Harley asked, giving her a scrutinizing gaze.

"I am the law of last resort. My name's Amanda Waller. I am not your mother, your aunt or your friend." Was the dead serious response.

"You clearly ain't related to me, that's for sure." Harley snorted out. "And friend? Fat chance."

Waller simply kept her stone-cold visage. "Clearly. In fact, I'm the warden here."

"To where?"

"Belle Reve."

"Belle Reve…?" Harley's mind then recognizes its location. "In Louisiana?!"

How long was she out?

"Correct." Waller coolly said.

"But I don't have my Margarita glasses and bead necklaces." Quinn childishly argued. "Why am I here instead of Arkham or even Blackgate?"

"I believe you've been out of the loop as of late. Tell me, have you bothered checking the news?"

"Eh…" Was the crazed psychologist's response.

The answer was telling.

"Thought so. Then I'll sum it up for you. Gotham's city board has moved things along after the big breakout earlier this month. They are developing a new prison for the super criminals in their city. A means of having Arkham Asylum actually return into being an asylum while Blackgate remains a standard prison before the "crazies" came rolling in. Until the new facility is built, Belle Reve has the right to housing for you "nutjobs"."

"...Ain't that just lovely." Harley dryly said.

"Quite."

If what Waller said was true, Harley is gonna have quite an interesting reunion with a number of individuals she knew back at Arkham. Some good, some bad, some in-between. Perhaps even some super criminals who were "lucky" enough to be in Blackgate.

"With that explanation out of the way, I'll inform you of this now. The collar you wear is usually custom-made to limit a super individual's abilities. But they are generally used to discipline inmates." Waller held up a remote. "A con who breaks the rules gets one warning."

The moment she pressed the button, an electrical shock coursed through Harley's systems. It made her lurch and hunch over from the pain she felt.

'Not as bad as some of the ones I've really experienced.'

Especially the shiatsu massage to the brain.

When the shocks ceased, Harley heard Waller continue. "If order has not been restored, the next shock will render the offender unconscious." Looking up, Harley saw the small glare aimed at her. "At the slightest hint of trouble, this facility goes into lockdown."

Given what Harley knows about prison guards, they would probably abuse the hell out of those collar remotes. Them seeing inmates get shocked whenever they get bored or prolong activating them just to see some fights go on before stopping it. Rather mixed when this detail came to mind.

"Belle Reve's walls are thick enough to hold Superman. We know. We checked. And no one's ever escaped Belle Reve. No one ever will."

"Ya sure about that?" Quinn questioned.

"Very."

Harley shrugs. "There's always a first for everything."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

With the introductions over and done with, Harley was escorted away and being taken elsewhere.

Eventually, Harley was brought to the prison showers where her escorts soon stood guard of the entrance.

Entering the space, she began stripping down naked. Harley tossed her outfit to the female guards before making her way to an open shower stall.

The hot shower helped her a bit by scrubbing away the dirt and grime she collected since she last bathed. As the water rushed down her body, they helped reveal the scars and injuries she obtained over the years, most of them received since she joined the Joker. Some were even fresh and nearly fading away. Some scars, however, were covered up by a number of tattoos like one above her breast, one on her shoulder and one on her hip.

Once washing up and drying herself off, Harley was given her clothing during her time here at Belle Reeve.

'Eh~ beats the straight jacket on occasion.' She thought, inspecting the orange prison uniform with standard underwear and white long-sleeve undershirt. 'At least the crocs are nice.'

Being escorted to her cell, Harley ends up passing a number of others. In the process, she ends up seeing some of her new "neighbors", recognizing a majority of them.

She was quick to spot Deadshot working out in his cell through a door window. Floyd was wrapping up shadow boxing before dropping down for some extended exercises.

Harley soon passes Killer Croc, who growls at her when she is shoved back into his cell. The reptilian-looking man sought to fight back, but a guard quickly activated the remote to the inhibitor collar, having Waylon Jones shocked into compliance.

While she hasn't really seen the man, Harley could practically hear Captain Boomerang yelling from afar. "C'mon! I just wanna talk!"

That was all Harley could discern from his Aussie accent before it became muffled, screaming coming from the other end.

One part of her mind, she saw them as typical people thrown into prison for their crimes. Another, however, saw them as desperate and broken people. Just like her.

Eventually, she was escorted into her cell. Her mind momentarily wondered why there wasn't a female wing to the prison.

'Probably because there are more male villains than women.' She pondered to herself. 'For now, just gonna be rooming with the boys.'

With the space of her new living arrangements, there was the possibility of her having a cellmate at one point. This may or may not happen in the future. Who knows for sure?

'Would be nice if I had Red bunking with me.' Was her thought, lying on the bottom bunk.

During all this, her mind drifts to a time when things were different for her. A time before she became Harley Quinn.

-A Few Years Earlier (?)-

Walking down the hallways of the infamous Arkham Asylum, we see a pair of women.

One was of African-American descent with short hair down to her jawline and bangs covering her forehead with dark eyes and pink lip gloss. She wore a typical doctor's lab coat over her dark blouse with a black skirt and stockings while having a pair of one-inch heels.

The other was a blonde woman with fair skin with her hair tied up in a bun with some hanging off into a bang covering part of her vision. She wore a pair of glasses that covered her sapphire blue eyes while wearing a lab coat over her red button-up shirt, a black skirt, stockings and one-inch heels.

These were Dr. Joan LeLand and Dr. Harleen Quinzel respectively.

"...You know, I was quite surprised to hear you wanted to intern here at Arkham Asylum. Anyone who had gone through med school with your high grades would have written their ticket anywhere."

"Well, I've always had quite an interest in extreme personalities. I feel they are more exciting, more challenging, more rewarding…"

"More high profile." Joan finished Harleen's thoughts.

"You have to admit that there is a form of glamor with these patients depending on how severe their cases are." Harleen replied back with a slight smile.

"Well I'll have to warn you now that these are hardcore psychotics and if you plan on cashing in on all of this by writing a 'tell-all' book then think again." The senior doctor warned the new addition to the staff. "They will literally eat a novice like you for breakfast."

"Don't worry ma'am. I won't." Harleen said to reassure her supervisor during her stay here.

*BWAAA* *BWAAA* *BWAAA*

"What's going on?" Harleen asks aloud.

Before Joan could speak, a litany of thick vines appeared around the corner. Some security guards were thrown away from the location, colliding against the wall.

It was shortly after this did Harleen see who was the cause of all this.

Walking forward, the new Arkham employee saw a beautiful woman with green skin and disheveled red hair. She presently wore an orange prison outfit with the Arkham logo on the chest and back area. And to finish the attire was a pair of white slip on shoes.

This was her first sight of Dr. Pamela Isley, otherwise known as Poison Ivy.

Before Harleen could register much of what was happening, Joan spoke to one of the guards coming from behind. He and the others were apparently wielding flamethrowers.

"How is Isley using plants? We have them kept away from her!"

"Sorry, ma'am. The cafeteria accidentally ordered living lettuce instead of dead ones."

At that point, the flame flowers went off, burning many of the plants Ivy was controlling before reaching her.

All the while, Harleen was aghast with the display before her. Seeing Poison Ivy groan and hiss from the flames hitting her. Before long, a guard came in and shot a tranquilizing dart at her, soon rendering Ivy motionless.

As Pamela was being dragged away, Harleen saw the pain and hurt in her eyes as the water sprinklers came to life from above. She tried to come to her, seeing if she was alright, but the guards blocked her path.

"Who the hell does this sort of thing?!" Harleen comments aloud. "You can't just burn inmates!"

"Sadly it's the only way to stop Poison Ivy."

With that said, Harleen parted ways from Dr. LeLand as she made it to her office. Her small, windowless office that was spartan at best with a misspelled name on the door was as good as it got.

"At least this beats a cubicle." She says out loud.

"What's a cubicle?"

"A crappy office space for-"

Harleen whirls around, seeing a dark hooded teen sitting on the office couch.

"Wait, how did you get in here?"

"From the door."

The Arkham doctor blinked at the odd answer. Her mind was hazy for the briefest of moments.

Everything around her was a memory of her life. However, this person in her office was not a part of it back then.

There was something about him that felt familiar somehow.

"You… from earlier?"

"Hello." Roxas said simply.

"How are you-"

"This is a dream." Was the immediate response.

Getting this bit of realization, Harley soon tried to rationalize things. "So, what? You're something of a figment of my imagination? A semblance of rationality I oddly conjured up?"

"Not really. I'm just a Nobody. Wanted to see if you were okay."

"Um… Thanks?" She says, sounding unsure.

"You're welcome. And before you ask, this dream you're experiencing isn't really gonna change. It's a memory that's already happened. So my presence won't affect anything… I think."

Harley gave the hooded teen a bewildered expression. "How can you be so sure?"

"Dreams can show us much. It can even tell us things we did not experience ourselves."

This threw Harley off a bit before scratching her head a bit.

"Yeah, it's confusing. I'm still learning more about this as I go." Roxas somewhat got back to the situation at hand. "So, what do you do here?" He asks before seeing a thick folder in her possession. "What's that?"

"I'm a psychologist… or I was." Harley places the thick folder on her desk, opening it up to show there were smaller folders inside. "And this is a list."

"Of what?"

"People who would be my perfect examples of absolute deterioration of empathy. I had a similar list when I interned back in Blackgate Prison, but I couldn't really work on it for reasons." Harley sees the hooded teen cock his head to the side. "Well, you know how it goes, you play the cards you have, not the cards you want. And my deck was practically every psychologist's dream. The stuff that dreams are built on." Roxas got up from the couch, coming over to see Harley spread the composed files on the desk like metaphorical cards. "The Kings, Queens, Jacks and Aces of the criminally insane."

Roxas saw many photos of various inmates of Arkham clipped to their respective files she had checked out from the main asylum files. There was Mr. Freeze, The Riddler, Mad Hatter, Killer Croc, Victor Zsasz, Scarecrow, Poison Ivy and…

"The Joker?"

"Back of the list. Wasn't prepared to face him yet while here. And that was fine." Harley shrugs. "I had more than enough antisocial personality disorders to go through."

The dream shifts, having Roxas observing the sessions from the sidelines in the process. The first of the patients Harley would be working with for the duration of her time working at Arkham was Poison Ivy.

Sitting in front of her, Harleen saw Pamela was now wearing a straight jacket. No doubt part of what happened with the earlier incident.

"I'm so sorry." Harleen says remorsefully, surprising Ivy slightly at the beginning of their conversation. "They shouldn't have done that. Burning you, I mean."

Coming down from her bit of surprise, Ivy snorts. "Whatever."

With this out of the way, Dr. Harleen and Pamela conversed on a number of things. This all leads to the present topic pertaining to empathy.

"Empathy?!" Ivy hisses. "You want to ask me about my empathy?! I can literally feel the dying of nature in my very flesh. I can hear the screams of The Green and the triumphant howls of the festering decay. And you have the nerve to ask me about empathy, as you scribble notes on the desecrated corpses of felled trees!?"

"Not a real good impression there." Roxas comments from the side.

The Ivy of Harley's memory doesn't really respond to this, merely grilling into Harley about the present topic.

As this happens, Harley regards Roxas. "It really wasn't. Had to start bringing in tape recorders to make Red more complacent. Eventually using it for everyone else as doing simple note-taking wouldn't do much accuracy. Went so far with Red to have her reassigned to a different cell that had a better window, allowing her to get more sunlight."

"That's nice of you." While Roxas nodded in some form of understanding, one factor popped into question. "Red?"

"My nickname for her." She elaborated.

This got the hooded teen to shrug.

"Of course, I didn't understand most of what she said back then. But I somewhat did over time."

"With the Green and Decay?" He sees her nod in turn. "I probably figured, given such things aren't really known outside of those brought in or taught properly."

Harley detects the bit of acknowledgment in his voice. "You know all that, did you?"

"To a degree." Roxas admitted, making an iffy hand motion. "Learned it from a friend of mine."

Memories shift forward, Harley working on various other Arkham patients with Roxas observing and commenting on everyone… in a sense.

After working through a number of patients for over a month or two, Harleen got the chance she had been working towards. She even watched a litany of videos past psychologists and workers had filmed of Joker's previous sessions for record's sake.

Walking down a dark hallway, Dr. Quinzel is escorted by a guard with the unaffecting Nobody tagging behind. She soon asks to go alone. She sticks to the shadows, as she comes in front of a peculiar cell with a surveillance camera pointing at it from an angle.

There he was, the Joker. Battered, bruised and bandaged. Broken arm, courtesy of his latest scuffle with the Batman.

She had studied his pathology and used some of it on her thesis paper.

All that separated between her and the homicidal maniac in front was the bulletproof glass.

Reflecting on it now, the whole thing reminds Harley of that infamous scene in Silence of the Lambs, of Juliet Starling conversing with Dr. Hannibal Lecter for the first time.

Joker didn't regard her presence at first, only focusing on him playing solitaire with a deck of cards on the floor.

"So, which one are you? One of my previous ones, or a brand-new brain tinkerer?" Joker turns his head, seeing Harley sticking to the shadows. "I can't really see you all the way over there." He gets up on his feet with the help of his good arm and gets to the bulletproof glass. "Come closer, I won't bite… I mean, I might, but…" He knocks on the glass and chuckles.

Harleen pauses for a second and then enters into the illuminated part of the hallway. When this happens, he shows a bit of recognition.

"So… you're Dr. Harleen Quinzel."

This surprises her. "You heard of me?"

"Read your thesis."

This surprises Harleen further. "How?"

"I have connections." He answers cryptically. "Usually curious to see what others write of me. Came across the one you wrote. Thought it was pretty good."

This flatters her in a way. "Oh, thank you."

"For a fanfiction. Just like many other ones I came across."

And just like that, this got her disappointed in a certain manner.

"Darling, if you want to get the story right, you have to go straight to the source."

"That's why I'm here," Harleen says calmly. "An opportunity to set the record straight." She soon explains a little. "People are afraid of you. I'm not. Somewhere inside that big clown everyone sees is a human being. One that can be helped."

"You're right. People are scared of me. For good reason." Joker laughs. "So go ahead. Pick through my brain, so I can tell you all the stories."

"Oh, I've read up on the stories. You were at the same time a rich mobster, thrown into a vat of chemicals, and a failed poor comedian, abused by your relatives…" Harley then shifts through the composed file on Joker. "A matron of an orphanage that doubled as a sweatshop producing golf balls."

Joker snorts into his hand. "I always was proud of that one. Doc Wilkins actually believed it." He sighs. "But now you ruined it. I had such stories to tell you."

"You sure about that? Mostly lies from what everyone else can tell."

"Perhaps. But the truth is so boring anyway. Dry… factual… misses the soul of things." The clown was now putting on a dramatic expression of distinguishment. "It's a low-grade artist always on the brink of capturing the essence of their model but eternally failing." He leans into the glass. "I prefer lies, illusions. A bit of makeup and a whole lot of theatricality."

"Stories then." She says, earning a grin in response. "Monster stories? I'm interested in those."

"You're in the right place," He says.

"Very well, Mr. Joker. How about you tell me a story about Gotham, the city of monsters?"

He looks at her. Grinning. "Please, doctor. Call me Mr. J."

Harley regarded him briefly. "...Very well, Mr. J."

She remembered thinking: This is fine. I can control this situation.

It was neither the first nor the last time she was wrong about that.

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

Hearing this, Roxas could tell something was happening. He soon disappears from Harley's dreaming memories just as everything begins to fade.

-Waking World-

Harley stirs awake on her bed before rolling over. Suddenly she found herself on the cold floor, groggily getting up in the process.

"What the hell…" She grumbles. She looks up and sees a guard open her cell door. "What do you want?"

"You're seeing Waller." The guard curtly answered.

Quinn groaned dramatically. "Again?"

"She wants to talk to you, privately."

Curious about what's going on, Harley complies and is escorted through a series of hallways before finding herself in an interrogation room. Her hands were soon handcuffed when they were connected to the lone table in the room.

Minutes passed before the room opened once more, having Amanda Waller strolled right in.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Madam Warden?" Harley asks, not wanting to beat around the pleasantries. "I doubt it's a mere social call."

"I'm here to give you an offer." She said straight away.

"On what?"

"Revenge on the Joker."

This got a laugh out of Harley. "Really? Revenge? Why would I do that?"

"I can think of a number of things. As payment, you'll get a lighter sentence-"

"Like I would wanna comply. I can tell with your type of people. Give out an offer that seems too good to be true, but then the rug is pulled right under them for some apparent reason." Harley leans back into her seat. "Besides, why would I sell out Mistah J? He cares for me. So much so, he'll bust me out."

"You think the Joker will come in here with the purpose of breaking you out?" Waller asks, seeing Harley enthusiastically nod soon after.

As this response went out, an odd feeling wafted through Harley. Making her feel a small sense of doubt. Her being in serious denial on how she feels about the Clown Prince of Crime.

'Hearing and reading about this type of behavior is one thing,' thought Waller. 'Seeing it is another.' Seeing this kind of response, Belle Reve's warden decides to change tactics. "Since you're so adamant in not wanting to sell him out, I recommend you cooperate. It'll be the only way you'll see him again."

"Cooperating with what?"

"With what comes next."

With this little meeting ending on a certain note, Harley was escorted back to her cell.

In the meantime, Waller meets up with a number of individuals. Not personally, but over a video group chat.

Secretary of Defense, General Sam Lane. Head of the ASA, Percy Odell. Head of ARGUS, General Wade Eiling. And Head of the DEO, General Calvin Swanwick.

"Amanda. Why have you arranged this call?" Sam Lane asks.

"Better yet, why does it look like you are a cat who ate a canary?" Wade Eiling adds in.

"I've eaten a lot of canaries, sir. But an opportunity has arisen."

"Of what? From what I've heard, the Joker had stolen a dangerous weapon. And from what I guess, he plans to unleash it." States Percy Odell.

"Which I plan to resolve very soon, gentlemen."

"How, exactly?"

"In the past century, the world began changing after the First World War when costumed individuals came popping out of the woodwork. Most weren't well known while others, we hardly batted an eye towards. Yet we had more attention placed on them when we saw extraordinary things that blew our minds. The Justice Society of America came rolling around and took part in World War II, which we were grateful for. Time went on, their members were still active before slowly retiring or just died completely, one way or another. An age that seemed to come to an end. That was until Superman made his debut a little over a decade ago."

Calvin Swanwick spoke up. "While I'm not disputing the genuine desire the Justice League do with their actions, I find them hypocritical. After all, how many people have they indirectly murdered by not taking out many of the supervillains they fight?"

"I'd rather not see the Justice League go around and act like they're judge, jury and executioner." Piped in Sam Lane. "They at least have that standard."

"A lot of people think superheroes should be all idealistic and refuse to kill people who break the law. Letting the judicial system do the work instead; complicated as it is."

It got to the point where Percy decided to go past this bit of philosophical debate and went to ask Amanda a question. "Is there a point to all this, Ms. Waller?"

That seemed to be the question she was waiting for given the sly smile she now bore. "It's taken some work, but I finally have what I desire. The worst of the worst."

It didn't take long for the others in the video call to more or less realize Amanda's intention.

"You wanna know the problem with meta-humans? The human part. We got lucky with Superman, who shared our values, along with many of his super friends. The next ones we'd get, we may not be so lucky."

"She somewhat has a point." Spoke General Eiling. "What if the next apparent Superman had decided to fly down, rip off the roof of the White House and grab the President right out of the Oval Office? Or going to the UN and wreaking havoc on the delegates and representatives. Who would've stopped them? We got contingency plans for nukes in North Korea, anthrax in our mail. We have fluoride in our water. But what if the next big, powered enemy becomes a terrorist?"

"We got plenty of other supervillains running about doing god knows what." Said Percy. "Hell, I dread to think of the day of them forming a league of their own."

"Amanda's got a plan in mind." Piped in General Lane.

Eiling snorts. "No doubt you already had a hand in it."

"More like help organizing the groundwork." Said Sam. "She did the rest."

"You two are playing with fire." Says General Calvin.

"I'm fighting fire with fire." Waller states.

"You're not going to pitch us that Task Force project of yours again, are you? The last batch you used didn't go all that well." Said Percy. "I recall a few of our military commissioned people were forced to retire and later committed suicide after what you put them through."

"Each person for this team is picked for his or her own completely unique set of skills and abilities."

"Still surprising to learn you desire to use your inmates as a roster of this team."

"To a degree."

"You believe you can form your own Justice League out of these super-criminals?"

"Not really."

At this point, Sam Lane came in to back her up. "It's a means of a rehabilitation program. Having a number of them does some good for once. After a successful mission, time off their sentencing."

"And for what?" Calvin asks.

"Preparing for the next war, I wager." Said Eiling. "Or the next alien threat when the Justice League ain't available. After all, earlier this month we had a global catastrophe the likes we've never seen. We had no clue where the Justice League went at the time. And their statement was malarky."

"I'd rather not see them back out on the streets, under our name." Said Calvin.

"General, we run them covertly, non-attributed. Strictly need to know." Says Amanda.

"And if they get caught, or if things don't work out, they get disposed of while throwing them under the bus." Sam adds in, getting a nod from Amanda.

"The next war will be fought with these metahumans. Ours, or theirs. We ain't the only people out there kicking up rocks looking for them."

"You know we can't control these people."

"It's because we didn't have the proper means of holding their leashes."

"Case in point."

"Be quick about your decision, gentlemen. We do not have much time. April 1st is around the corner, and I dread to see what the Joker will do with what he took from Van Criss Labs."

"You think Task Force X will be worth this time? I'd rather have a simple squad go in, take care of the situation and wrap it up." Says Calvin. "In fact, I already have surveyors keeping an eye on them as we speak, waiting for my command to take action with a possible airstrike."

-Meanwhile; Gotham City, Connecticut-

A frown marred the Joker's face as he was riding inside of one of his many vans.

Normally he would be relaxing at his safehouse right about now. Clearing his head in order to properly plan out his next big moves. Especially now with his big day coming up with his new toys.

Unfortunately, there was a snag.

His safe houses were compromised, due to the interference of Robin, Batgirl, and the GCPD. He would've thrown Batman into the mix, but no one has really spotted him lately. But it didn't really matter, given he must be doing something with the Justice League.

'But it matters to me.' Joker groans in thought. 'Those Leaguers are taking so much of his time, making it impossible to have his attention.'

Focusing back on the matter at hand, Joker was on a time crunch to get everything ready for April 1st. He needed a new place to hideout and finish preparations.

Luckily for him, there was one place in mind.

Arriving at the north-eastern outskirts of the city, the Joker's frown went rightside up

Roughly a hundred years ago, the Solomon Brothers began building up the district with nickelodeons and movie theaters. Soon after, Carlo Geraldi built an amusement park. The businessman then began competing and building more attractions, with other entrepreneurs following suit over the decades. Was extremely popular during the 1970s, becoming quite the tourist trap. However, the district fell into disrepair after Gotham's industrial boom was over. However, the place became the occasional hideout for many of the people in the mob.

Now, this will serve his purpose.

When his vans began pulling in, Joker saw there was activity in the area. More specifically, a construction company is in the process of demolishing the old buildings and damaged rides.

"Who the hell is trying to wreck this place even further?"

"That would be the construction company, sir."

"I can see that." Joker snarls. "It's time we make them stop."

The vans sped right in, startling the construction workers in the process.

Back with Amanda Waller, she was conversing more with her colleagues when a soldier came in from General Calvin's end.

"Is there a reason for this interruption?"

"Got a report from our team. Sir, the Joker took hostages."

Amanda looks at Calvin with a bitter, bemused look. "You were saying…"

Calvin was now placed in a hard position now. He and the others can't exactly follow through with his intention now, given hostages are now involved. And they can't risk their own men, given how dangerous the Joker is.

With that in mind, there was one thing that was present in General Swanwick's mind.

"Would the Batman interfere with this?"

Amanda soon responds with a small smile. "You can say he is preoccupied at this time."

A look was nearly shared by the majority of the others in the video call.

"Who is it you have in mind for this opening roster of yours?" Asks Percy Odell. "The ones to hunt down the Joker and retrieve the chemical weapon?"

"Dr. Harleen Quinzel, for starters." This drew some looks from the others, having Amanda explain. "She is the only person in the world who practically knows the Joker's psyche. Far more than the Batman. Predicting almost everything that clown has in mind. She will be essential for the mission."

"More like a liability, given her desperation towards that psychotic menace." Said General Eiling.

Not wanting to drag this along, Sam Lane spoke. "Who else?"

"Floyd Lawton, AKA Deadshot. Expert sharpshooter. Suspected of many assassinations. Dangerous. Often has an elite clientele."

From a rooftop, Floyd was conversing with his client over the phone as he was finishing setting up on a job.

"Hey, Angelo, this is your exterminator calling about your rat problem. My account's looking a little thin."

"No one gets paid until what needs to get done gets done."

"Nope. That's not the rules. No money, no honey." Floyd looks on part of the surveillance equipment he had placed through his eye device. Upon switching perspectives, he saw a police escort coming into an alleyway. "Whoa. Here's your boy right now. With about twenty of his new best friends." Focusing away from it, the hitman looks back onto his phone with a life feed of his bank account. "I'm not seeing a transaction here, Angie."

"Listen, stop being cute and do your job!"

Peering into the surveillance, Floyd saw his target coming out of a black van.

"In about thirty seconds, your window is gonna close forever,"

This got the client to panic. "Okay. Okay, okay. Relax. There was an accounting error." Floyd looks onto his phone and sees it updating where a million dollars was dropped into it. "It's been sent. Happy?"

"Now double it."

"Why?"

"For being a dickhead. You got ten seconds."

"We're not the kind of people you play with!"

"Did you… Did you just threaten me? Your rat's throat is gonna be sore from all the singing he's about to do."

Floyd heard growling from his client. "YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Soon enough his account updates with another million being deposited.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Angie."

Whipping his arm towards a bounce block, Floyd fired his wrist-mounted machine gun pistol. The bullet made contact with it, ricocheting into a different location. A split moment later, the target fell down dead when he got further into the one hallway. This had the police escort go into a frenzy, trying to figure out what happened and where the shooter was.

Seeing this happen, Floyd fled from the scene as he'd come back later to retrieve his equipment.

"But everyone has a weakness." Said Waller. "And a weakness can be leveraged."

"Being what?" Asks Percy.

"His honor-roll daughter who goes to Gotham Academy."

In his cell, Floyd was resting on his bed. He was reading a book of his in one hand while the other had a bookmarker tucked between the fingertips. It wasn't any bookmark, but a photo of him and his daughter.

Zoe meant the world to him. Every job he did was to fund her education, especially when she got to any college of her choosing after graduating. Of course, he ended up aiming a little high for her going to Harvard, Yale or any of the other Ivy-league schools.

When he heard from his contacts that his daughter was about to be targeted by a disgruntled former client, Floyd willingly turned himself in for her protection.

Waller then brings up the next person on her roster. "Then we have the Aussie of the Flash's Rogues. George "Digger" Harkness. Or as the tabloids call him, Captain Boomerang."

Kneeling in front of the bank vault, Digger was working on a tablet connected to the sealed door. Guarding him were a pair of individuals, who were waiting patiently. After several more moments, the vault door was unlocked, having the trio go inside.

Inside a bank vault, Digger was using a small vacuum to suck up a litany of small diamonds from a few small trays to properly extract them. Once done, he'd dump them into a bag of his.

Presently, his two partners on this job were basking and enjoying the wealth.

"We're gonna be rich!" Laughs one of them.

"Practically set for life!" Boasts another.

Digger nods. "Sure thing, mates. Now go get the car."

"Specializes in weapons and tech." Says Waller. "Decided to be more unique in his approach. Broke into and robbed every bank in Australia at least once before moving to the States for a new target set."

From the vault, Harkness throws a pair of boomerangs. They whirled through the entrance and into the hallway. Both struck the other two robbers in the back, killing them in the process.

"Doesn't work well with others."

Harkness was about to leave the vicinity when he heard a static woosh from behind.

"No honor among thieves, eh Boomer?"

Boomerang groans before he was knocked out by the Flash.

Waller then went to the next person on her list. "And have you heard of the pyrokinetic homeboy, Chato Santana?"

"El Diablo, right?" Asks Calvin. "How'd you capture him?"

"We didn't. He surrendered." Was Waller's response. "This LA gangbanger thought he was king of the world until he lost his queen and heirs. He gets jumped in a prison riot and incinerates half the field. The security video is incredible."

Pulling up the footage, Waller had it play for the others to see. In the center of the riot, they see the tattooed gangbanger about to be killed by some rival gang members who were placed in the same prison as he was. He retaliates by setting the vicinity on fire.

"Then we have Waylon Jones, Killer Croc. Raised in the circus and treated as a freak due to his condition. He looked like a monster, so they treated him like a monster. Then he became a monster."

Waylon began attacking a litany of soldiers intruding into his sewer residence. Battering them about. Throwing them across the way. For good measure, biting a few to leave quite the impression.

"Fled Gotham after the massive breakout. Went searching for sanctuary elsewhere. Couldn't find it. So I intervened."

The others had to overpower the large man before they were able to fire off several tranquilizing darts and have them flow through him. After some moments, Killer Croc was incapacitated.

"Lastly, Christopher Weiss, better known as Slipknot. An American rope and knot expert skilled at rope climbing. Decided to take his talents in a different avenue."

Christopher whirled his ropes around, quickly ensnaring several foes and strangling them with ease. With them either dead or unconscious, he used his ropes to quickly flee the scene of a robbery he took part in.

After hearing about the members of this newly assembled Task Force, there were some bits of doubt seen in Percy, Calvin and Eiling.

"I get it. You don't exactly have much faith in putting our national security in the hands of these criminals. But what choice do we have to preserve the lives of those who matter."

After some negotiations, the group greenlights Amanda's project.

Now it was time to bring the roster together.

One by one, each person of Waller's Task Force X was being taken out of their cells. But before being taken out to the field, they were brought to the medical examiner to do a "check-up".

Some weren't more complacent than others.

"Yo, ese." Spoke the guard, banging on the cell door assigned to Chato. "Hola, amigo. Put the burrito down, you got a visitor."

From his cell, El Diablo looked up to see Waller's face in the view hole.

"Si?"

Soon after, her face was replaced by a tablet, playing video footage of the prison riot he took part in. The one which resulted in his transfer to Belle Reve.

"That ain't me."

The tablet was withdrawn, showing Waller's face once more. "That wasn't you?"

"Nah, they say it's me, but that ain't me. That guy's gone. He's dead."

"And yet, here you are." Waller drawls out. "You wanna die in here? You got a real shot at walking the block again. Nice cold beer with a good meal-"

"Warden, you ain't the first to ask, and you ain't gonna be the last." He cut her off.

"Ask what?"

"I'm a man, okay? I ain't no weapon. I'mma die in peace before I raise my fists again. I've caused enough harm."

Waller puffed out a bit of air. "Sorry, but that request will be denied."

Soon after, a canister of knockout gas was dropped into Chanto's cell, rendering the metahuman unconscious.

For one person in particular, she was having a hissy fit.

"Oh for crying out loud! I'm trying to relax in my cell, yet this is the second time you dragged me out today." Harley's collar was removed before she felt a pricking feeling on the side of her neck. "What gives!?"

The doctor didn't respond as he placed some device next to the injection spot. "Location verified."

"Verified for what?" Was all Harley said before she was hauled out of the medical center.

Next thing she knew, she found herself in a loading area with a number of other individuals with guards surrounding them. Some she knew, others were new to her. But they too were wearing prison uniforms just like her.

"Hiya Crocy." Harley greets the larger fellow.

Waylon merely growls in response.

Backing away slightly, she glanced over to see Boomerang standing next to one she more or less knew as El Diablo, who was the former leader of some California gang. Her eyes then shifted to a man who had a number of dreadlocks and other things on his person which were knotted in some manner.

"Who's he?"

"Slipknot." Says the Aussie. "Man who can apparently climb anything."

This got some looks from Harley and Chanto, who responded. "You sure he didn't steal the name from the band?"

This got a snort from Harley and a scowl from Slipknot.

"Any idea what the hell is going on?" Asked Boomerang.

While this was collectively asked by the assembled criminals, it would soon be answered by the new arrival. Said individual was flanked by other personnel rolling in cases and dropping them in front of Harley and the rest.

The first person to address this person was Deadshot, who had a tone of gruff familiarity.

"Floyd."

"Rick."

"Eat shit and die."

"Yeah, fuck you too."

Rick gives Floyd a bland look before speaking to not just him but everyone else. "These cases hold your shit. Get them on. Y'all be debriefed in ten."

With this said, the assembled criminals began opening up the cases and bags.

They indeed contained their belongings and then some.

Waylon's was perhaps the lightest of the bunch, given his bag only contained a few of his big articles of clothing and arm wrappings.

Chanto's was relatively the same, but more of the street gangster attire.

Floyd was primarily focused on inspecting his equipment. Not trusting these people with messing around with them.

Christopher did quick checks on his property before getting dressed into his usual getup.

Digger was relatively fast in getting dressed. What took him the longest was slipping in all of his boomerangs onto his person. Of course, he did have to slip in a small pink pony plushie into his trenchcoat for safekeeping. If anyone were to spot it, they'd have a litany of questions about it.

Harley began stripping off her prison attire, leaving her in just her underwear. Before long, she got back into her usual outfit again before coming here. It was all fresh and clean. Though it feels a bit different for some reason. She didn't know why.

Before she thought of putting on the headpiece, she saw many of the surrounding guards looking at her.

"What?"

With this said, they quickly looked away or focused anywhere else.

Focusing back on her stuff, Harley decided to toss the headpiece back into the case. She didn't want to deal with the hassle of stuffing her hair into the sides. She did, however, get some scrunchies to put her hair into pigtails once putting on her domino mask. Soon after, Harley pulled out what few guns were stored inside before strapping the holster onto her waist.

Glancing back over, she saw Deadshot in his heavy-duty Kevlar body armor with his black and red jacket with a belt of spare ammo and weapons. The mercenary was looking at the mask in his hands.

"What's wrong?" She asks. "Doesn't fit anymore? Too much junk in the trunk?"

Such a question could be said with her headpiece, in a manner.

Floyd merely shakes his head a little. "Nah. Every time I wear this, people die."

"And?"

"And I like putting it on it."

"Goody." Reaching into the trunk, Harley whips out a baseball bat. "Somethin' tells me a whole lotta people are about to die."

"Yeah. It's us." Floyd and Harley look over to Diablo. "We're being led to our deaths."

"Speak to yourself, mate." Says Boomerang before glancing at the tattoos. "Hey, what's that crap on your face? Does it wash off?"

Chanto rolls his eyes while Croc chuckles in response.

"Hey, if you like a girl, can you light her cigarette or some candles with your pinkie?" Asks Harley with mild curiosity. "Because that would be real classy!"

"Hey, y'all might wanna leave old boy alone. With that collar off, he can torch this whole joint." Floyd looks to Chanto. "Ain't that right, ese?"

"Ain't got nothing to worry about from me." Says Diablo. "I'm cool, homie."

Over yonder, Boomerang begins teasing Croc on his looks.

"Never got the chance to ask this before. What's up with your appearance? Kept hearing you volunteered for some military project. It was that or you messed with the wrong kind of voodoo from the bayou."

"It's a skin condition, you Aussie pansy." Croc gritted out, flashing his fangs in the man's direction.

"Whatever you say, mate." The man casually said, nonplussed by the underlying threat.

Soon enough, the criminals had to be lined up in front of not just Rick Flagg, but also Amanda Waller who came into the area not long ago.

"Listen up. In your necks, the injection you got, it's a nanite explosive. It's the size of a rice grain, but it's as powerful as a hand grenade. You fall out of line, you die. You try to escape, you die. You otherwise irritate or vex me, and guess what? You die."

Harley raised her hand before speaking. "I'm known to be quite vexing. I'm just forewarning you."

"Shut up, Quinn!" Flagg calms down slightly before addressing the others. "This is the deal. You're going somewhere to do something that'll get you killed. But until that happens-"

Floyd interrupts the colonel. "Is this your attempt of a pep talk, Flagg?"

Rick shot the man a small glare. "Yeah, it was."

"You really need to workshop on your team motivation speeches. You hear of Phil Jackson? He's like the gold standard."

Slightly tired of this, Amanda decides to speak up. "You six are assembled today to deal with a threat."

"And what is this threat?" Asks Floyd.

"The Joker." This drew some eyes from the assembled criminals, more specifically Harley Quinn. Amanda ignored their responses and resumed the debriefing. "He has acquired a weapon quite recently. It is our belief he intends to unleash it onto Gotham very soon for his April Fool's celebration. Not to mention he has hostages who need to be liberated. Complete the mission, you get time off your prison sentence. Fail the mission, you die. Any of what Colonel Flagg said earlier counts as well. Remember, I'm watching. I see everything."

"...Are you omniscient?"

Floyd rolls his eyes at Harley's question. "No. She's not."

Waller didn't stay any longer than needed as she began leaving the area with an armed escort.

Flagg, however, did as he looked towards Lawton. "There's your pep talk."

"Compared to your shit, she killed it." Deadshot snorts a little. "I don't know if you recall, I'm a hitman. I'm not a fireman. I don't save people."

"Anything for a dollar, right?" Rick shot back.

"You know the dark places, too. Don't act like you don't." Floyd countered with a raised brow.

"I'm a soldier! And you're a serial killer who takes credit cards." Flagg jabbed his finger at him. "When the shooting starts, and it will, you'll cut and run. And this time, you'll finally pay for it."

"So, that's it?" Asks Floyd. "What, we some kind of Suicide Squad?"

"I'll be sure to notify your next of kin." Says Flagg, walking away as the guards begin escorting Task Force X into their transport.

During this interaction, Harley noticed their tones towards each other. Ones which held familiarity, not just of passing knowledge of identity like she suspected from earlier.

"What did he mean by that?" Harley asks. "You have history or somethin'?"

Wanting to get rid of her pestering, Floyd gives a mild response. "Flagg and I used to be in the same unit. That was until I fled when we were ambushed in order to save myself." He turns to her. "You don't wanna know me."

Seeing Floyd's attitude like this, even the others, threw Harley off guard. She had been used to a number of individuals from Gotham, who she had interacted with as their psychologist for a time before becoming a criminal herself.

She even thinks back to Ivy, who somewhat focuses on herself but attempts to reach out to Harley because of their past doctor/patient relationship. Even after becoming a criminal, Harley remained close to Ivy.

She remembers Joker as being an all exotic, charming and manipulative.

So when bad people tell her to stay away, because they're bad, their honesty throws her off.

Before long, Task Force X was loaded up into the Chinook military helicopter. But it was a bit different from the norm from what Floyd recognizes.

'Probably an experimental model for better deployments.' Was his thought as he inspected it further. 'By the looks of it, we'd reach Gotham in no time.'

Time passes for the Squad as they were more or less silent for the duration of the flight.

There wasn't much chatter going on. Only some slight conversations were tried and failed in the process of continuing.

Amongst all this, Harley was more focused on what was going on exactly.

'I'm seeing Puddin again.' Thought Harley. 'I should be happy, but… why am I not?'

Maybe it's the chats with Red finally sinking in after all this time. Stuff brought up by that hooded teen in her dreams. Perhaps it was the combination of the two.

There was just a number of conflictions welling up inside of her with all this.

She even recalls more of the first session she had with the Joker. Something which she sometimes wonders if they're legitimate or not.

"It starts with fantasies, doctor. That wishful thinking that makes your muscles twitch as you imagine wrapping your hands around your enemy's neck."

"I don't have enemies, Mr. J."

"Sure you do! Everyone does! Those people you meet and think, wouldn't things be so much better if they were dead?" He questions her. "Those people whose very presence turns things sour. We all know them. And it starts with them. They are the first ones to test you."

"What does that have to do with Gotham City?"

His smile moves a little. "Gotham is full of people like that. Hands twitching while they dream of violence, shivering with barely suppressed rage. Brimming with righteous indignation. Smiling politely as they imagine savage things. Every last one of them a bomb that needs but a single spark to set it off. And then… well, that's when things get fun. Then you see what I have seen many times over; you see how eagerly the good people turn into violent beasts."

Joker's smile grows more as his eyes narrow. "After all, Gotham's a city where angels fly on wings of Icarus… up, up they go and then… down, down, down they fall. Until we all stand revealed for who we truly are underneath."

"So all the good people are just monsters in hiding?"

"Until the rubber bands of their masks snap." He turns to her. "I mean… all the normal people dream of going crazy every now and then… problem is, when they do, there's no going back."

"And what do you dream of?"

He gives her a tired smile. "Oh… simple stuff… honest smiles…"

Later in life, in dark times, her mind would go back to this conversation. She dwelled on the small details of what he said, wondering if they carried larger meanings…

It was honestly infuriating to her, because it felt like she was so damned close!

The hypothesis was that long-term exposure to violent environments could result in physical damage to the parts of the brain that process empathy. And then Joker was with his stupid little story about how a city can create monsters.

On the surface, it was a perfect fit.

According to him, madness is our default state. Always there, bubbling under the surface.

But then again, what did Harley expect? Six previous doctors at the time agreed he was incapable of real feelings or acknowledging the humanity of others. Of course he would see everyone as monsters wearing masks.

All that time up to that point made it feel like Harley went back to square one.

These thoughts and more filled Harley's mind for the duration of the flight. An odd attempt of distracting herself of the intended mission she was forced into.

By the time their transport was nearing the landing zone, things went sideways. Something which knocked Harley out of her thoughts.

It wasn't air turbulence. It wasn't them being spotted from the ground from what Harley later recalls and acknowledges.

No, it was something else.

"Say that again." Harley hears Croc say.

Or rather someone…

Digger got into another confrontation with Waylon once again. Soon enough, it got rough.

"All I'm askin' is if you had bothered losing some weight and use your excess skin-"

"You really should lay off, Digger." Says Chanto.

"Why's that?"

"He's a cannibal. Tease him enough and he'll maim you or worse."

This didn't deter Digger from teasing.

It got so bad that Waylon got out of his safety harness, grabbed Boomerang and threw him against the wall.

Their tussle began to cause problems for the Chinook military chopper.

It began rocking back and forth, having the passengers inside whirl about, despite the majority of them being strapped down.

"Six-one is going down." The pilot radios in. "Six-one is going down hard."

It wasn't long before the chopper crashed to the earth, tumbling over several times.

In the process, Harley blacks out upon banging her head against the wall.

-The Dreaming-

The next Harley knew, she was alone in the chopper(?). It was as if there was no damage to it at all. Of course she couldn't focus on it very well, due to her gripping her aching noggin.

*BWHAHAHAHA*

Hearing the high pitch, comical laugh, Harley turns over and would've leaped out of her seat if she wasn't strapped into it.

It was a jester-like ghost that somewhat reminded Harley of the Boos from the Mario series. Their egg-shaped body was white with red markings that looked similar to a vest, and a yellow crest with the Dream Eater sigil sitting squarely on its chest. It's warm yellow eyes are oval with black rims. Its overly large tongue is half yellow and half pink, situated in a dark magenta mouth. It has nubby little arms and equally small, light blue feet. It has an iconic, red jester's hat on its head dotted with light blue and yellow spots. The balls on each tip of it's hat are blue, yellow, and red striped.

"Gh-Gh-GHOST!"

In her frightened state, she thought she perhaps had died from the crash and was now gonna be tormented by the dead.

She braced herself of the coming assault of pain and misery-

*LICK*

Only for the deranged psychologist to be assaulted by giant licks from the present Dream Eater spirit. "Hey! Cut it out! It tickles!"

She hears chuckling. This has her turn to the source and sees a familiar figure standing nearby.

"Oh, it's you."

"Hello again." Says Roxas, soon shifting his gaze from Harley to the Jestabocky. "Was wondering where you ran off to."

"You know this," she shifts uncomfortably in her odd confinement, "cuddly thing?"

"Yeah." He walks over and strokes its head slightly. "I watch over their kind."

Questions roamed her mind on what the hooded teen said, let alone a number of things.

However, one thing merely slips through her mouth. "We gotta stop meeting like this?"

"Whatcha mean?"

"Meeting when I'm… knocked out, I think."

"Would you prefer it if you were awake?"

"I don't know-AH QUIT IT!" She blurts out, having the Dream Eater licking her once more.

Roxas chuckled at the sight. A warm smile was present as Harley practically melted in its presence. She would've enjoyed it more if she wasn't so restricted.

"Let me help you with that."

He partially parts the Jestabocky away from Harley before getting out of her harness.

"Thanks." She says momentarily before the Dream Eater smothers her with more warm, pleasant feelings, this time, the former psychologist returning the affection.

He laughs a little more. "Having issues?"

"You kidding? This is so damn cute, adorable and cuddly!" She finally glomps the jester-like Dream Spirit and rubs her face against the top of its head. This made the Jestabocky let out small squeals of joy at Harley's actions.

"Feeling better?"

There was a pause of consideration in his words. "...Maybe."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Trying to play psychologist with me?"

"No. Just asking out of concern." Roxas looks at the present surroundings. "What happened before you went to sleep?" He asks while helping get her onto her feet.

"Can't exactly recall." Harley scrunches her face and scratches her head. She then takes on a look of recollection. "Oh yeah. I'm currently heading back to Gotham. Don't know where exactly, but I'm going there with others."

"For what exactly?"

"Facing the Joker."

The deranged blonde could imagine a frown on the hooded teen's hidden face given the slight motion of his head. "Whatever for?"

"Because he plans on attacking Gotham for his April Fools celebration."

"And do you have any idea how?"

Harley shrugged. "Wouldn't know. He doesn't like spoiling surprises."

"How so?"

"If he has to explain things, then there is no joke." Harley said from hurt bitterness, her hand coming up to her face where the black eye was healing. "Learned that the hard way."

Roxas looked at her with more concern. "I looked up a few things since we last spoke. I gotta ask, why do you even keep going to him if he was harming you still?"

"I kept the hope he could change. Hope of making a breakthrough in getting him better."

"Did he ever make the attempt?"

"...I think he did, but it's hard to tell."

"What did you get out of it?"

"Loss. So much loss." Harley said sadly. Not even the cuddles she was getting from the Jestabocky Dream Eater was making her feel better. "He had stolen my nights, my days… my smile. After that, it was my heart."

"Steal it metaphorically or literally?"

"Metaphorically. Though there are times it felt like he did it literally. Ripping it out of my chest before ripping and stomping it."

There was a moment of silence shared between the two before Roxas spoke up. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that."

She gives him a small smile. Appreciates this dream or whatever taking pity on her.

"For a while, I spent some time away from Joker. Trying to refocus on my work. A failing effort. My mind kept wandering back to our chats. More specifically the sound of his voice. And then things got complicated when my mind… went into the gutter."

A hidden frown marred Roxas' face. "Was there anyone who spotted this sooner? Given you help on this?"

"Red."

"Ivy?"

"Yeah. She was able to spot a number of things I hadn't noticed during our sessions. She grew concerned when she realized I was focusing more on the Joker than I should. Telling me I should stop and focus anywhere else. That I should leave Arkham in order to save myself."

"Did you?"

"I… didn't. I got too invested. At one point, an epiphany struck me hard. I remembered the conflicting profiles and took the conclusions for granted. I too thought him a sociopath, a narcissist and uncaring. But neither of us asked the most basic, important question."

"Being what?"

The response was soon given to him when the space around them shifted into another room. Instead of Joker's typical cell, he was in a padded room white wearing a straight jacket. Before him was Harley's past self as they were seated at a table. No glass separating the two.

"Did you ever feel remorse for the lives you've taken?"

Joker smiles. "Really? C'mon, Doc. You've read my files. A Narcissistic Sociopath. A Heartless Psychopath. A Classic Case of an Antisocial… something-or-other…"

"Yes. I've read your files and I've seen the video interviews. And I noticed that nobody ever bothered asking you that question." Dr. Harleen looks into her papers for a moment. "And given the… conflicting nature of your past diagnoses, it's a question that needs answering." She looks back at Joker with narrowed eyes. "Now, maybe my predecessors just assumed your answer was no, I can't say for sure. Me, personally? I'd rather hear it directly from you."

A little taken aback both by the request and her cold stiff tone, Joker takes a minute… frowns and says, "For the first ones… there was still that. I guess, the first victim on the streets of Gotham is one's empathy."

Dr. Harleen snaps out of her stiffness. "W-What?"

Back then, Harley remembered her icebreaker question. A planned move. Show him something he wasn't used to. A means to catch him off guard. But instead, his answer did the same to her. Any pretense of her emotional detachment was in pieces. She couldn't believe her ears.

"I mean… regret, guilt… empathy… they bring about hesitation and, on the streets, hesitation will get you caught… get you killed. I always figured we killed that part of ourselves first. Kill the attachments."

Harleen's shell is broken. The thing he just said fit her theory perfectly. She has lost any sense of detachment. This man who has been on her mind seemingly 24/7 for months also seems to be the perfect proof of her theory.

This is what she tells herself to distract herself from that other nagging sensation she would rather not face.

"How did it start, Mr. J?"

He notices the change on her face. Unbeknownst to both versions of Harley, Roxas senses a change from Joker. A small twitch of muscle of his mouth going upward before it died. This got the greater Nobody to narrow his hidden gaze.

Of how this was going, how Joker felt to him, Roxas couldn't help but make the comparison with some of the members of Organization XIII.

'Back then, Harley was trying to play it smart and carefully. Instead, she ended up taking the bait.' Roxas thought with a growing frown. 'What was such a comparison Lucien made of such a thing? Oh yeah, Red Riding Hood.'

"How does anyone go about killing their attachments? You get that one bad moment when the pain of them becomes too much… When you lose it all…"

"Is that what happened to you?" She asks.

He looks at her. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"It does to me."

Those maddening eyes focus back to Harley. "Okay… how about you answer one of my questions first."

"Fine."

"How often do you watch me sleep?"

Both the representation of past Harley and Roxas widen their eyes on the unusual question.

Dr. Harleen snaps out of her surprise and had to do her best to reassume control of the runaway train of a situation.

"It was just… I passed by yesterday and noticed the scars on you."

"Is that pity I hear in your voice?" Joker questions her. "Don't, doctor. They are battle scars, nothing else. And like I said, I barely feel any pain." He looks at the table avoiding her gaze.

She is awkwardly spinning a pen in her hand and drops it.

"I would still like to know… about your loss."

The Clown Prince of Crime looks at her annoyed. "Why?"

"Because… I want to help-"

"Oh, stop it, doctor!" He snaps at her. "Tell me, and honestly! Why are you here? See, I'll give you this: you got me to tell you more about myself than anyone else ever did. And who knows, maybe it is my fault. Maybe I was dwelling too much on why I wanted to see you smile. Maybe that is why I let you in, but in the end none of it matters. See, I may be a little crazy, but I'm not stupid. In the end, none of you come to Arkham because you truly want to help. Because I know you hide it better than others, but like them, you too are here hoping to write a book or an article or a thesis. In the end at least the cops are honest. They see us as monsters because we are just that!"

"No!" She shouts, quickly rising to her feet. "It's not… I'm not like that!"

All pretense of emotional distance gone. She gets up to the camera and disconnects it. She angrily walks behind the Joker and unbuckles his straight jacket. She then walks in front of him and turns her back to him.

Observing this, Roxas can see Harley was afraid. She does her best to fight it because there is another more powerful feeling taking her over.

It is a moment of desperate hope and trust.

At that moment, the Nobody sees Joker get up from his seat, letting the straightjacket fall to the floor. He hovers behind her trembling form.

"I came here for my own purpose. But… I found myself caring. Caring so much that it scares me. You… scare me, and yet…"

She was silenced when he hugged her and whispered with a growing sadistic smile she didn't see. "Thank you, Doctor Quinzel."

The memory ends as if it were merely just Roxas and the present Harley again.

"It's a little fuzzy at times now of how things went after that session. Me gaining his trust. I think it's all due to the many tumbles and hits I went through. And the Laughing Gas probably didn't help."

Hearing Harley say this, Roxas frowns when replaying what he just witnessed in his head.

"Dreams can be like that." Says the Greater Nobody, getting her attention. "Your experiences reaching out to help or delude you. Hard to tell at times with a person."

"I can relate with that." Harley's gaze became distant. "I try to shut such moments out, believing I was in a nightmare with how… Mista J treats me. Waking up or going into a deeper dream."

"Why?"

"Because I love him." She choked out. "Because I wanted to help him. Care for him. Because even in the dream, I hope I can still save him."

"Sounds like a good dream, but is yours an actual dream or a delusion?" She looks at him, having him explain. "Is there some part of you still trying to have you see reasons? Some lucidness wanting you to wake up? A dream is good and all, but you can't stay in such dreams all the time. After all, dreams and desires are completely different in so many ways."

"I… I don't know."

The bit of duress has the Jackabody Dream Eater cuddle with her more. Harley gives a bitter smile.

Roxas kneels down and looks at her, a question soon flowed out of his mouth. "Did you feel regret?"

Before Harley could let his previous questions sink in properly, the new one surprised her. "Wh-What?"

"Did you feel remorse for what you've done? Especially with the Joker playing you like a puppet?"

Harley had a hard time trying to answer this. Words couldn't come out of her mouth. But before she could properly have the chance, the space around them began to warp.

As she was regaining consciousness, Harley saw Deadshot point his arms at both Croc and Boomerang, both armed with his wrist shooters.

"I'll kill you both if you ever put my life in danger like that again!"

Digger wore a challenging look while Waylon still wanted to maw the Aussie. However, both relented in backing off.

In the meantime, Diablo hoists Harley onto her feet. "You okay?"

"Had worse tumbles." Was Harley's response. "Thanks for askin'."

He gives her a nod while she soon sees the toppled-over state of their transport. She would've inspected it more, but her thoughts came to a halt when she heard Slipknot speak up from the cockpit. "Pilot's dead." He says, climbing out of it.

"Now we'll have to walk the rest of the way."

"And where exactly are we going?"

"Good question. All Waller told us we were going to Gotham." Looking over, Deadshot heads over to the cockpit and begins fiddling around with the system upon learning the power was still functioning.

"Whatya got?" Asks Harley.

"Coordinates for our dropoff indicate someplace at Gotham's outskirts." The mercenary responds with. "A mile away from… Amusement Mile."

She perked up when hearing this. "Oh, I know that place."

Waylon grunts out a "same" in turn.

"Good." Floyd begins climbing out of the crashed chopper. "Then you two and I are leading the way."

Once gathering whatever misplaced gear was littered on the crash spot, the Squad left and trekked to their intended destination.

They went on in relative silence. Occasionally checking their surroundings for anything coming their way.

After some time, the Squad spotted the Amusement Mile and drew closer. Getting near the vicinity's entrance, they take cover some yards away.

Using his scope, Floyd zooms in and is able to spot five Joker guards standing at the main entrance who were watching the perimeter. The others then look at Deadshot, silently asking what they should do, due to his military training.

"I work better alone."

"Sorry, but you got us now."

"Don't know about you, but doubt you can take them all by yourself before at least one of them calls for help."

Before Harley could give her input and thoughts on the matter, she voices something else. "Where's Boomerang?"

Hearing this, the others look around and notice this as well.

Turns out, Digger snuck off earlier.

He got a bit impatient and wanted to survey things better on his own when he found a passing guard. Harkness quickly picked him off by sneakily getting up from behind and slit his throat with one of his boomerangs. He took his clown mask and a few other item before wearing them. He walks over to the others, having them not notice anything out of the ordinary.

With the guards none the wiser, Digger went into action by taking them out.

Seeing this from afar, Deadshot was forced to pick off the rest.

The trigger was quickly pulled, having bullets fly across the field and striking the clown guards dead in either their heads or chest.

With them all taken care of, the Squad broke their cover and made their way to the disguised Boomerang at the Amusement Mile's entrance.

"The hell was that?" Floyd says sternly.

"I saw an opportunity an' I took it." Responded Digger, throwing his arms out. "An' look. It worked out just fine."

As the two more or less were in each other's faces, Harley seemed to notice something was off.

She crouched down to inspect the dead guards and bore a quizzical expression.

Through some of this action, she drew Deadshot's attention and ended his bit of conversation with Boomerang.

"Something wrong, Quinn?" Asks Floyd.

"I don't recognize 'em." Was her response.

This garnered some reactions from the others.

"Is that normal?" Asked Slipknot.

"I don't… exactly know."

Scrunching his face a little, Deadshot turns to Diablo. "With your gang, would it be weird if five guys you never met suddenly on guard duty?"

Chanto shakes his head. "That would never happen in my crew. I had to memorize their faces and voices so I could spot someone infiltrating our turf."

Upon hearing this, Floyd looks back to Harley, who holds up her hands. "I seriously do not know."

"They could be newbies." Digger comments. "I mean, it could've happened after Harls got sent to Belle Reve."

"But for guard duty?" Slipknot responds with. "Doesn't seem to fit with the Joker, let alone anyone at all."

"And how would you know?"

Deadshot ignored this and changed subjects. "Where do you think Joker would store the weapon Waller's worried about?" He asked the lone woman of the Squad.

"I don't know!"

The mercenary gets frustrated. "You can't possibly be this stupid?!"

The deranged psychologist steps up to him. "Do it." She says. "Hit me. C'mon, I know you want to."

For the longest time, Harley has grown accustomed to being hit by those frustrated with her. The abuse the Joker had treated her with since she joined him.

However, in his frustration, Floyd blurts out something else. "All I want is to see my daughter again! And the only way that'll happen is you needing to do your damn job!"

This surprises her. This was something she didn't expect at all.

She had heard in the grapevine Floyd had a kid, but she didn't realize it was legit.

'This actually makes more sense now.' Thought Harley. 'How he -one of the world's best assassins- suddenly wound up in prison.'

With this in mind, Harley's mind shifted a bit as she thought a bit more. Before long, she voiced an idea. "Joker probably has this weapon at the arcade area over by the boardwalk." This drew some curious looks from the others. "I mean, it's where all of the games and toys are, right?"

With this in mind, the Squad makes their way to their new destination after checking through the nearby map pillar.

Along the way, Harley walks up to Killer Croc and asks, "How come you eat people?"

Croc gives her a sideways glance. "You know why?"

"You sure? Time changes responses."

"...Gives me their power."

She gets in front of him. "Would you eat me?"

"Hell, no."

"Oh, why not?"

"I don't want your crazy."

"Says the guy who typically lives in sewers." Harley retorted.

"At least I know it's a sewer." Croc shot back.

Took Harley a moment when her eyes glanced around. "Oh, I get it! Cuz this is like a sewer too!" She swings her mallet over to some of the buildings. "Only with decent shops and restaurants." Harley hears him grumble. "You hate mankind that much?"

"They treated me like a monster, so I became one."

'Ain't that depressing.' She thought to herself. "There should at least be someone or some people who didn't."

"Yeah, you."

"...Oh…"

It had been a while since she recalled such a time. She looked past his condition and saw a person who she treated like everyone else.

Upon cutting through the Tunnel of Love, her mind drifted back to her time working at Arkham.

Since the day she had taken Joker out of his straightjacket and him giving her a hug, things were becoming problematic.

She got in trouble with her superiors when they saw her covering up the security camera on that one session. And things began to escalate when it more or less repeated.

Harley argued it was just a possible way of getting through with the Joker. Yet others said otherwise.

"That wasn't a smart move, Dr. Quinzel."

Ivy was one such person.

"What else was I supposed to do? I just reacted." Harley argued. "I didn't expect it to turn out like that."

During her time doing sessions with her, Harley found herself confining with Pamela. One could argue it was a possible "girl-time" or reaching out to another patient, just like how Harley did it with the Joker. However, it was a bit more natural between the changed botanist and the psychologist. Probably it was a result of Harley breaking through Ivy's barriers and eventually forming a friendship.

"And you're telling me you've done this repeatedly with him?" Ivy said austonishly. "You're out of your mind."

"This coming from someone with a classic misanthrope with issues with her abusive, murderous father who befriends plants to avoid human intimacy after the loss of her loving mother."

"...I wouldn't go that far."

"Right~ I mean when was the last time you talked to a normal-ish person without having the urge to vomit?"

Pamela didn't answer. Instead she redirected back to the matter at hand. "Do you have to tie yourself up with him?" Ivy asks her. "You could focus on anyone else and have a decent career out of it. Yet you're fixated on that murderous psychopath."

"I'm making progress."

"Are you?" She asked her doctor out of concern. "You should be more careful. I… I don't want to see you get hurt."

That conversation was often on Harley's mind, yet it kept being shoved into a corner as she kept focusing in helping the Joker.

On her schedule when she had the chance to have a session with him, she got excited. Some part of her considers them dates, minus the wining and dining and with excessive security restraints thrown into the mix.

And yes, she was aware that it sounds like some developing fetish…

"So the jacket stays on today?" The Joker asks her.

"Yeah, I want to get some work done and you get handsy."

"Ms. Pot? Mr. Kettle is calling."

Harley giggled a little on that instance, tucking a bang behind her ear.

Truth was, Harley was hopelessly falling in love. It was a thought that would've terrified her once, but at the time it made her start nearly every day with a smile. Especially when she received word from the financial board was allocating more of the grant money into her research, meaning so many possibilities were within her reach and everything was coming on top for her.

All because she wanted to save him.

It felt right. Almost prophetic.

Delusional thought it was in the end. Harley truly believed it.

First, she would save the Joker. Then she would save Gotham from its monsters.

What a wonderful dream it was…

Harley was shaken out of her memories when she heard her name being called out.

"Stop dragging behind, Quinn."

Harley soon registered Deadshot's words, causing her to pick up the pace.

Upon exiting the Tunnel of Love, the former psychologist momentarily thought back of what followed.

Their relationship began to change more and more by the day, all before she began an affair with him. It made her feel guilty at first of the particular line she crossed, but then the bliss followed and her previous worries faded to obscurity.

As Harley was going through her own personal debate, another conversation took place between a pair of thieves as they were passing by the freakshow exhibits.

"Are we really just going along with this?" Slipknot questions Boomerang.

"About what?"

"This." Christopher emphasizes. "We're out in the open with no supervision."

"Just complying with the demand and do what we're told or else we'd be thrown back in behind bars, right?"

"Exactly."

"You sure about that?" El Diablo butts into the conversation. "With the warning of the nanobombs in our necks, I think the warden and Flagg were legit on the threat."

Harkness was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke up. "Mind games."

"What's that?" Asks Slipknot.

"You got me thinking. All this bomb in the neck crap." Says Digger, drawing in some curious looks. "That ain't real, mate. See, they're trying to trap us with our own minds, right? But you look around, we're free."

"How do you know this?"

"Just trust me. I know, alright? It's a con. The government does this quite a lot that just don't believe much of what they say." The Aussie pats Christopher on the chest, walks a little ahead and turns around slightly. "Now I'm going, because I got a life to live. Question is, are you coming?"

After thinking it over, Slipknot nods.

"Yeah~ Smart!"

It was at that moment did Christopher pull out his grappling gun. Taking a quick aim, Slipknot fires it into the air. Attaching a harness to his belt, he takes off into the air upon recalling the attached line.

"Hey!" Floyd calls out. "Get back here!"

Deadshot was ignored as the rope-themed thief kept ascending a building, moving away from the others and the mission entirely.

After bouncing off some walls, something happened.

*BOOM*

"OH SHIT!"

Slipknot's head explodes. His corpse dangling against the line and colliding against a building.

Silence filled the immediate area. The five remaining squadmates looked on in varying reactions.

"Okay… I believe the neck bombs are real."

"No shit, Boomy!" Harley blurts out.

Waylon growls in agreement as his hand reaches towards his neck where he recalls where he was injected.

"How the hell did they know?" Chanto asks aloud.

Floyd doesn't respond, only looking up towards the sky and having a clear idea now on how they were being supervised.

Over in Belle Reve, Waller was overseeing the operation in a control center.

She was indeed telling the truth to Task Force X when they were being debriefed. She can see everything… through a government satellite. It is how she'll keep an eye on the operation without one of her people amongst the group.

Before her was an opened suitcase filled with computer hardware with a digital tablet connected. On the screen were pictures of the present members of the Squad with a "kill switch" button underneath each one. With the picture of Christopher Weiss, it was crossed out before darkening to signify his termination.

Beside her was Rick Flagg, who comments on what just happened.

"Believe they now know the threat is real."

"Clearly." Waller dryly responds.

"Who do you think will be next?" Rick ponders aloud.

"Hopefully not any more than needed."

They weren't the only observers of this. For at the Amusement Mile, on the rooftop of some adjacent building, a dark figure frowned from the shadows.

Back with Task Force X, the remaining members were more or less worried about their situation now. The threat of the neck bombs is real. None of them were pleased at all as a result.

"I swear, I'm gonna kill 'em."

"Then you should do it quickly when you get the chance, 'cause they're gonna kill all of us one by one."

"Good luck with that. Especially with the bombs."

"Gonna wonder how we'll get rid of 'em."

"God knows how." Says Chanto.

"Hopefully no one heard that."

Unfortunately for them, the sound of Slipknot's head explosion was heard by a group of Joker's clowns. Soon after, they began rushing over to investigate.

Croc was the first to hear the incoming storm of feet, having him snarl and get into a battle stance. The others noticed and followed suit when the mob of clowns began showing up.

Floyd was the first to act, quickly firing at the first batch of Clowns before ducking behind a nearby kiosk. He occasionally peaks out and takes out a few coming his way before unloading some trick shots on a few trying to get him from behind.

On his end, Digger threw some boomerangs which exploded upon imbedding into either a clown or some nearby object, sending shrapnel and debris all about. Some twisted and turned around corners to get their targets and harmed them in the process. When some got in close, he used his boomerangs as either knives to jab or slash into his enemies or as hatchets to hack.

Over yonder, bodies were thrown about, courtesy of Killer Croc's superhuman strength. Some broke through walls and kiosks, one of which forced Deadshot to flee to another position. At one point, Waylon used one of the clowns as a budgeting weapon to harm the others before slamming the unfortunate man down hard into the pavement. Before long, he went on a charge, tackling or knocking over many in his path.

Harley held well on her own, swinging her baseball bat around. She struck some heads well enough for a potential "home run". Others she swung at the gut before kneeing them once hunched over. She swiftly kicked them before whipping out her gun and firing at the clown.

From the corner of her eye, the former psychologist saw someone come in with a mallet. She swung her baseball bat to block and hopefully parry. However, her wooden weapon was broken upon impact, having it splinter. She was forced to let go of her former weapon and quickly evaded the enemy's upcoming swing with some acrobatic moves before dashing in to kick and punch the one Joker henchman into submission. The man ended up letting go of the mallet, allowing Harley to procure it before swinging it upwards to harmfully knock out the man in the process.

Turning over to see the present state of the impromptu battlefield, the former psychologist did a double take.

It may have been her imagination, but Harley swore she saw someone in the distance taking out a number of Clowns. With a blink of an eye, the person was gone with the opposition over yonder now on the ground.

In the midst of all this, Croc grabbed a big enemy and ripped his throat out right in front of Boomerang before tossing him aside.

Seeing the look on the Aussie's face, Waylon growls, "You got a problem with that?"

"Not at all." Digger then chuckles. "I'm just glad you're on our side."

This earned a particular look on his face. But it swiftly ended as he felt someone bash something from behind. Turning, he saw a clown holding a broken piece of debris before he smacked the man away.

The fighting soon came to an end, having many dead and badly injured, but unconscious Joker goons sprawled about.

In her spot, Harley was smacking down one of the bigger goons on the ground with her mallet when Floyd came up to her.

"Hey," Floyd catches the mallet handle on the one end, stopping her. "C'mon, Quinn."

"What? I saw 'im move." Harley kicks the body, having it "move". "See? He flinched… I think."

Deadshot released a sigh, shaking his head. "Right…"

Once he lets go of her knew weapon, Harley begins to walk amongst the bodies when she spotted something lying on the ground. She bent down and picked it up for a better inspection.

"Who dropped their My Little Pony plushie?"

"Pinkie!"

Harley glanced over seeing Digger scurry over and snatch the doll from her hand. He carefully inspects it before tucking it into his inner coat pocket. The Aussie turned before seeing the blonde giving him a look.

"What?" He defensively said.

Harley held a hand up placatingly. "I ain't judgin' if you're a Bronie. I like Pinkie Pie too."

Digger turned away before spotting Chanto walking over, causing his eyes to narrow. "Hey, you were some help, princess." He called out to him.

During all the fighting, Harkness spotted Diablo on several occasions. In each one, the tattooed gangster did not fight at all. Instead he cowered away.

"It's better this way." Was Chanto's response before waving his hand to form some blanket of fire that disbursed moments later. If one paid close attention to it, they'd see a skull with glowing red eyes in the flame. "Trust me."

"Oh, yeah, you're the fire bloke, eh?"

"Yeah, I was. Yeah."

"Right. Yeah. Hey." Harkness pulled out a lighter from his coat pocket and flicked it, having a small flame appear. "Well, looky here." He then waves it slightly. "Whoo! It's fire. Whooo~!" He flips the lid back over, extinguishing it.

"Far better than what you did." Croc contributes, also having seen Diablo not fending off against the clowns.

"Yeah, what use are you if you don't use your powers."

Chanto says nothing, only walking away.

Scoffing at this, Harkness soon kneels down and begins rummaging through one the bodies, looting them of it's valuables. Before long, he fished out a wallet.

"Pay dirt." He opens the wallet but pauses with what he pulls out. Instead of cash or some debit card, he took out a driver's license. "Now that's weird."

"What's weird?" Asks Floyd, who overheard him from nearby.

He doesn't get an answer right away as Harkness quickly goes to another body and pulls out another wallet. Seeing the same thing, with something else included. Soon after, he moved to the next body.

"What are you doing?"

"Checkin' 'em."

"I can see that. But for-"

"Are we sure these are Joker's goons?"

Boomerang's question gets the other squadmates' attention.

"What are you on about?"

A wallet was tossed at Floyd, who caught it. Opening it up, he saw a typical layout of cards with a license. However, he also saw the inclusion of a worker ID with a family photo. Suspicion arose soon after.

"Check the bodies." Floyd calls out to the others. He doesn't see them respond, having him bark it out. "Now!"

The other squadmates follow through on the command, joining Digger and now Floyd in rummaging through the bodies. Wallets with worker IDs with the construction company with some having photos tucked inside.

A big realization hit them hard, one way or another.

"These aren't Joker's men. They're the hostages."

"We just harmed and killed 'em." Says Harkness, gritted his teeth. "Fuck! Waller's gonna have our hides for this."

"Blamed even." Croc adds in, knowing they just failed a part of their mission objective.

"This might explain why Harley didn't recognize the guards at the entrance." Chanto comments.

"How did the Joker get these people to fight for him?" Croc wonders aloud.

Floyd agrees on that before glancing over to Harley, who stood motionless. "Any bright ideas?"

Knowing this was directed towards her, Harley gave out a response. "He's… very persuasive."

Her mind drifts back on such reminders, especially of one particular consequence of her affair with Joker..

"Harley… You know I live for these moments with you." Said the Joker, slipping his pants back on, he and his doctor had sex in the session room with the security camera shut off.

"I did tell you," Dr. Quinzel pants out as she had quite the romp with him, "I wanted to expand my methodology." She said, sweat glistening her naked flesh and her mind trying to come down from the sexual high she was experiencing.

"Well, who am I to debate your scientific method?" He chuckled out as he began putting the rest of his clothes back on.

After some time, Harley ended up taking a hasty decision, acting on her impulses and began escalating her affair with finally having sex with him.

"Would you mind doing something for me, doctor?"

"Anything." Was her response as her mind wasn't all that clear at this moment.

"Would you kindly send out another letter for me?"

Harley did the occasional request for the Joker by sending out harmless letters for him which began to escalate over time. Eventually, they became more like demands under the guise of honeyed, sweetened words.

The one she sent out after they had finally done the deed changed her life ever further.

"NO! LET ME GO! PLEASE LET ME GO!"

"Ah, here we are." The Joker said as he ushered the group towards their little destination. "Now strap her onto the bed and be sure no one interrupts."

The sounds of gunfire was heard in the background as the goons did their job for the Clown Prince of Crime. While this was going on, Harley was fully fastened onto the bed as her eyes were wildly scanning the room to figure out what was going to happen to her. It was really hard though since everything seemed to be happening so fast.

"Well Dr. Harlequin. I would like to discuss a few things with you." The clown said as he pulled up a lamp close to her face. "Mostly complaints on my end really."

"I-I just wanted to help you." She defended in hopes of being released.

This got a chuckle out of him. "You help me? By erasing and changing my mind of what memories that I have?!" He yelled out as he slammed his fists onto the strapped bed. This startled her more in the process. He stops, breathing deeply to momentarily calm himself. "You know, Harley. You've left me in a blackhole of rage and confusion. But what about the medicine you practice? Aren't you supposed to help me instead of making me worse?"

Knowing that she's not going to make it out alive, she started to shed several tears building up in her eyes. "Wh-What are you going to do? Are you going to kill me, Mr. J?"

"Huh?" The clown asked in mocked confusion. "Kill you? Ha! Why would I want to kill you?" He spoke with a shake of his head. "No. No. No. No. I'm not going to kill you."

He then went onto the side of the room and pulled something closer to her field of vision. Once it was close enough, her eyes soon landed upon the electroshock therapy device. She then realized what the Joker was going to do, causing her to shake even more despite her being restrained.

"Now now Dr. Harlequin. I'm not going to kill you." He then pulled out the electroshock devise with one on each hand. "I'm going to hurt you really... really... badly."

"You really think so? Well," Harley swallows a lump in her throat, "I can take it."

As he drew closer, he paused before coming back up with a little realization. "Oh I almost forgot." He then pulled out a mouth guard and placed it inside of her mouth with a bit of force. "Don't want to ruin that perfect smile of yours when the juices hit your brain."

The device came closer to her head as the clown flipped the switch to get it fully charged up. "Hope you like the electrical shiatsu massage." Said the Joker as he placed the device on her head with an insane cackle.

The moment it touched her skin, she screamed through the mouth guard throughout the entire torture process.

Next thing Harley knew afterwards was her being at Ace Chemicals. Everything in between was relatively foggy as her mind was trying to settle back into place. She was standing on the rafters above the various vats of chemicals. From what she could recall, this was essentially the birthplace of the Joker.

"Question…" Harley turned and focused her attention on the Joker. "Would you die for me?"

"Yes."

"That's too easy." Joker mutters aloud. "Would you… live for me?"

"Yes."

"Careful now. Do not say this oath thoughtlessly." He touches her chin and keeps it still as his toxic green eyes bore into her shattered baby blues. "Desire becomes surrender. Surrender becomes power." He lets go of her face and gives her a smile. "Do you want this? Being mine forever?"

"...I do."

"Good. Now fall."

Indeed she falls. Falls to her desire. Falls to the next part of her life and fully departs from her sanity into insanity.

Here she dived in as Dr. Harleen Quinzel, ending the life and reputation she previously had. For once she surfaced from the vat of chemicals, she became Harley Quinn.

Since that day, Harley was officially called the Joker's girlfriend. The Clown Princess of Crime. His partner in crime is painting Gotham red. His "sidekick".

Now that she thought about it, Joker hadn't treated her like how a typical "sidekick" should be. All he ever did was use her in several ways, all the while she… blissfully… accepted it. Believing it was all romance.

'Was… he just using me all this time?' Harley pondered as she tried to catch up with the other squadmates. 'Was Red and the kid right all along?'

Her relationship with Ivy has been rocky since that day as well. Pam was shocked by what happened to her doctor, of what acts she committed as time went on. Eventually, Ivy merely accepted them, numbing herself of what Harley was going through. Yet had the occasional moments of voicing her worries and concerns. Having her wished to have gone back to that particular day of the breakout and helped Harley, like she did to her instead of going off and doing her thing.

Walking away from the dead and unconscious bodies of the hostages, Task Force X had to continue on with the mission or else they'll meet the same fate as Slipknot.

Making it over to the boardwalk, the squad ended up finding a variety of crates next to impromptu workstations. When taking a bit of a closer look, Harley recognized the Van Criss Labs logo on not just them, but on the cases sprawled about.

"I think this is it." She says to them.

Turned out Harley's guess was correct.

"Empty." Croc simply says, opening and dumping one of the crates.

"Same here." Chanto adds in, lifting up a few case lids.

The others followed suit, in their own respective ways.

Unfortunately, what they were looking for was here, but not any longer.

"What were in these anyways?" Digger asked Harley.

"How should I know?"

"You knew them from the get-go." Floyd comments. "You must've known somethin'."

"I was there before I got sent to Belle Reve. I didn't know what Joker wanted from there and he wouldn't tell me. Ruining the jokes and all that." Quinn countered with her blowing a strand of stray hair out of her face.

A groan escapes Floyd's lips, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Now we're remotely back to square one." Mutters the mercenary.

"I'm sorry."

Deadshot regarded her for a silent moment. "...It's not your fault."

Harley gives a barely noticeable smile. Looking back on one of the cases, she saw the label and became a bit curious. Inspecting it more, she recognizes the coding.

"I think I know this."

"Know what?" Boomerang asked.

"This case held something I knew back at Arkham."

"Being…" Floyd silently gestured his hand in a "don't leave us waiting" motion.

"A chemical compound. The docs used it to help treat a number of patients. Mostly to calm 'em. And for a little while, depending on the dosage, they'd do whatever the administrators said."

Being nearby when hearing this, Croc snarled a little. He began breaking the crates to vent his frustration.

"What's his problem?"

"He got dosed with the stuff a whole lot by the orderly so there'd be less riots." Both Harley and Floyd saw Waylon continue wrecking a few more things before calming down. "A former doctor did it a whole lot more, making Crocky his attack dog for a while before he got sent to prison."

"My sympathies." Deadshot looks back at the case with the one chemical code on the label. "Question now is, why's that solution doing here and for what purpose?"

In the midst of this, Digger was browsing about when his eyes caught onto something interesting. Upon getting a closer look, he saw they were schematics of some rockets or missiles.

'Huh, could be interesting to do for a later gig.' He thought, taking the blueprints, folded them up and tucked them into his coat pocket.

Elsewhere, Chanto was doing his best to find anything useful. Some clue as to what this apparent weapon was or where the Joker and his people took it.

From what he was seeing, there was a bit of a mess. Not made by what he and his squadmates made, but by the Joker and his crew.

It was as if they were in a bit of a hurry.

Diablo would know, given his experience with his own crew. Having to gather whatever is available and leave. It's never perfect as one could leave something behind when moving elsewhere.

Looking through one of the cases, he found a laptop. Real sophisticated by the looks of it.

"Found something!" Chanto called out to the squad.

"What you got?"

Diablo turns the case over, revealing the laptop to them.

"Military." Floyd speaks out first. "Cutting edge too." He then notices a particular logo. Not of the Van Criss Labs, but of a group they were contracted with. "Argus… Why does that sound familiar?"

Before a response could be given out, the squad heard an all too familiar laughter. It was long and drawn out, echoing as it was carried into the building through the air.

From outside, the Joker was there with a large assembly of goons. He smiled all the while, seeing the intruders on his territory were all but confined within the one location.

"Blast them!"

With that order, all of Joker's men open fire.

Bullets flew, cleaving through much in their way. Objects were cleaved through as the Squad quickly dived for cover. They were quickly being pinned down as there seemed no end to the bullet fire, for when one goon finished up a magazine, someone else took their place to fire while the other reloaded. Thus a continued stream that seemed to never end.

"We gotta get outta here!" Yelled Floyd.

"Don't you have a clear shot?!" Asked Digger.

"Does it look like I have one?!"

If there were fewer people firing at them, the mercenary could perhaps be able to peak out and possibly find a solution. However, with the amount of gunfire filling the air, he quickly guessed there would be no possibility for him to retaliate whatsoever.

In the meantime, Harley was backed against the wall. Fidgeting all the while as the Joker's goons tried to take her and her teammates out.

'He's right there.' She thought to herself. 'He's right there and he's firing at us.'

For the briefest of moments, a part of her wondered if she tried to call out to Joker, he'd order his lackeys to cease fire. A means of allowing her to return back to him. However, the rest of her screamed back stating he wouldn't care at all if she was there as she was merely collateral damage.

"Any bright ideas?!" Roared Croc.

Floyd looked about in their cover and thought things out.

Harkness couldn't do anything as his boomerang arsenal was quite limited and Floyd didn't know if any of his trick boomerangs would do any good. Waylon was all muscle and doubted he would be able to power through the mess. Harley was more or less shell-shocked.

This only left one other person.

Looking some distance away, Deadshot saw Diablo huddled against a concrete pillar as bullets were cleaving parts of each side. And besides it was a partially demolished building that gave the pyro-meta some extra room.

Floyd patted Croc to garner his attention, all before pointing over yonder. "I need to get over there!"

More or less forced to comply, Croc grabbed a large slab of metal from nearby. Grasping the edges, he used it as a shield to help cover Floyd as he ran past the gaps in order to reach Chanto.

Reaching up to the gang leader, Floyd speaks up. "We need your help!"

"I can't!" The former gang leader retorted.

In the bit of cover, Floyd pulls Chanto aside. "The hell you mean, homie?"

"This ain't my fight."

This has the mercenary grilling him with his frustration nearly reaching his peak. Practically poking and pushing him. "You know what? You don't stand for shit. You ain't about shit!"

This appeared to get a proper response out of the man as Chanto smacked away Lawton's hand. "Don't touch me, man!"

"Don't touch you?" Challenged, Floyd begins poking and patting him a whole lot more. "What you gonna do?"

Diablo smacks the hand away again, this time with a snarl. "I said don't touch me!"

Floyd witnessed the man's eyes flaring up and this only fueled his actions. He began patting the man's bald head, shoving his chest a few times for good measure. "I'm touching you! I'm touching you!"

"If you don't fucking stop-!"

"Do something! ANYTHING!" Floyd was an inch away from Chanto's face now.

Relenting, embers practically could be seen coming out of Diablo's eyes. "You wanna see something?"

"Oh, yeah, I wanna see something-"

The pyro meta-human shoves Floyd aside, hands begin lighting up before he throws them forward. A split moment later, torrents of flames shot out and went towards many of Joker's men.

There were several variations of how the reactions went as this went on.

For Harley, it was amazement. Floyd was a bit bewildered. Croc and Digger were indifferent, due to them having experience with people with elemental capabilities. For many of the Joker's men, panic was mostly present while others were trying to put out the fires or dying as a result.

As for the Joker, he merely laughed at their expense.

With the impromptu barrier between the parties, Floyd knew this was the best opportune time to flee. With the laptop briefcase in hand, Floyd barks out, "We gotta move, now!"

Hearing Deadshot's orders, the squad relents and flees from the scene with Diablo the last to follow.

With the Hispanic meta-human no longer around, the flame barrier began to die out, revealing the squad's retreating forms. All that remained as well were the injured and charred bodies of Joker's men.

One of the henchmen approached the Clown with an inquiry. "Should we pursue, sir?"

"Let them flee." Joker smiles at their phantom retreating forms, even one all too familiar to him. "They'll be coming back sooner or later. Especially Harley."

At a good safe distance away, the group came to a slow halt.

Their focus kept going about where they fled from; wondering if the Joker's men were following them or got lost in the large amusement park.

Catching his breath, the marksman turned to the pyro-meta. "I was just trying to get you there." Floyd apologizes. "We cool?"

Before Diablo could give a response, Harley all but tackles him and gives him a smooch on the cheek. "I knew you'd come through."

"Get off me." He pushes her away slightly, merely uncomfortable with her action.

She pouts at him. "You have to be like that?"

Chanto ignores her, rolling his eyes in the process before they land back to Floyd. Rather than anger at the actions of the assassin, he appeared more frustrated with his own outburst. "I get it. We're fine. Just… try not doing that again."

The marksman nods as he looks towards the others. "You guys fine?"

Croc merely grumbles. Digger was leaning against the wall as he was composing himself. Harley was partially there, mentally, but was no doubt distracted when she kept looking back where they ran away from.

More or less getting the silent response from the rest, Floyd looks back to the laptop briefcase in hand before voicing a passing thought. "We need someplace to lay low for a bit."

Croc comes in with a suggestion. "I know just the place."

It took some minutes of sneaking around, being sure they weren't spotted by any of Joker's men who could be patrolling the Mile now after what happened. Soon enough, Waylon brought them to a destination he had in mind.

Pulling out several glasses from a case, Harley wiped the thin layer of dirt off them before filling one for herself.

It's rather surprising the eatery still had some bottles of liquor in stock. After all, there was a surprising spread of a selection. One would've thought they'd be cleaned out years ago when the Amusement Mile was shut down.

Whatever the case may be, with whatever questions may have momentarily come to mind, this place was needed at this time for the squad.

"Anything you want from the bar?" Offered Harley, playing the bartender for the time being. "Already got my absinthe."

"You plan on drinking all of that?" Deadshot inquired in slight disbelief.

"I would've gone for a margarita or a bloody mary, but I don't have better stuff to work with."

Floyd shakes his head a little with a brief smile before giving out a request. "Whiskey." Seeing Harley pull out a shot glass, he interjects. "What am I, twelve?"

"Right, my mistake." Harley switches out the shot glass for a regular glass and pours most of the bottle's contents into it. "You hot stuff?"

"Water." Chanto says soon after.

"That's a good idea, honey." Harley responds with a smile and works the sink to fill a cup of water. "Sorry if it ain't cold."

He waved her off, taking the cup out of her hand. "It's fine."

Harley slides the poured drinks to her two squadmates before focusing on the Aussie. "You Boomy?"

"I got it covered."

*TssSSS kr-POP*

Hearing the sound, the others looked over to see Digger sipping from a particular beer bottle. He took notice once he pried the bottle from his lips.

"What?"

"Where'd you get that?"

"My private stash." Was his response.

This only got more confusion from the rest.

Chanto was the first to speak out to Harkness. "How the hell do you have that still intact?"

"Whatcha mean?"

Floyd was the one to answer. "Our transport tumbled hard, we fought and tussled all the way here. How the hell are those still fine as they are?"

The Aussie smirked. "My coat is very resilient."

"As a matter of fact, how did you even get those?" Asks Harley, gesturing to the bottle.

"Does it really matter?"

"In a way, yes."

Being seated relatively next to the Aussie, Croc eyed the bottle of beer. Boomerang took notice. He looked between Waylon and the particular beer.

"You like this brand?"

"It has good taste."

"That it does." Digger goes into his coat and pulls out another beer bottle. Once opening it, he hands it over to the reptilian man. "Here ya go, mate."

Gently taking it from Boomerang, Croc took a small sip, enjoying the taste in the process.

Raising his glass up, Floyd speaks. "Here's to honor among thieves."

The others raised their respective glasses or bottles before taking a drink, all except one.

"I'm no thief." Says Croc.

"No, but you're muscle. And that's gotta count for somethin'."

"Fair point." Waylon replies, taking another swig from his beer.

"I actually prefer to think of myself as an asset relocation specialist." Says Harkness.

"Don't try that fancy-ass bull on us." Croc grumbles out. "It's the same thing."

"Is it?" Boomer challenged half-heartedly, taking another swig of his beer.

A moment of silence filled the eatery as the marksman ended it by speaking.

"Well, we almost pulled it off… despite what everybody thought." Floyd says evenly. "Worst part of it is, they're going to blame us for the whole thing. And they can't have people knowing the truth. We're the patsies. The cover-up." The mercenary looks towards the others in the squad. "Don't forget, we're the bad guys. And, uh, for about two sweet seconds, I had hope."

Chanto scoffs. "You had hope, huh? For what?"

Deadshot didn't respond for a few seconds. "That things could be better."

"Hope doesn't stop the wheel from turning, my brother." The old gang leader softly said.

Floyd takes a brief swig of his drink. "Hmm. You preaching?"

"It's coming back around for you." Diablo leans closer to Deadshot. "How many people you killed, man?"

Floyd stares at him. "You don't ask nobody a question like that, ese."

"You ain't ever whacked down no women? No kids?"

Floyd's eyes narrowed at that. "...I don't kill women or children."

Chanto huffed, a dark, self-loathing grin appearing on his face. "I do."

This earned some looks from the rest.

Practically feeling the questioning gazes upon him, Chanto explains. "See, I was born with the Devil's gift. I kept it hidden for most of my life, but… the older I got, the stronger it got. So I started using it. For business, you know. The more power on the street I got, the more firepower I got. Like, that shit went hand in hand. You know? One was feeding the other." He shakes his head a little. "Ain't nobody tell me no… Except my old lady."

The pyro meta-human's eyes became distant, him lamenting on the past and reflecting on it. "You know, she used to pray for me. Even when I didn't want it." Raising his hand, Diablo conjures a ball of flame. "God didn't give me this. Why should he take it away?" The flame begins to take shape into a person, going by the shape of it, it was a woman. One which Chanto lovingly gazed towards. "See when I get mad, I lose control. You know, I just… I don't know what I'd do…" Using his empty glass, Chanto covers the conjured flame and lets it take effect as the fiery silhouette begins to suffocate and die out. "...till it's done."

Silence fell in the space, having the others digest what they heard.

"And the kids?" Boomerang couldn't help but ask.

It clicks in Harley's head, having her speak out the response Diablo couldn't muster to answer. "He killed them." She turns over to the pyro meta-human. "Didn't you?"

The others saw the remorse surfacing on Diablo's face.

Now they learned why Diablo doesn't use his powers. It's because he ended up killing his family.

"Own that shit. Own it!" Harley blurts out with a withdrawn snarl, cutting Diablo's remorse short. "What'd you think was gonna happen? Huh?"

Floyd soon speaks out. "Hey, Harley. Come on."

She snaps towards the mercenary. "What, you were just…" She turns around with a mix of emotions. "Thinking you can have a happy family and coach little leagues and make car payments? Normal's a setting on the dryer." She whirls her hand towards her and the others. "People like us, we don't get normal!"

"And how's your definition of normal?" Asks Digger.

"Normal people don't hurt others for loving them. Not caring for anyone but themselves." Was Harley's response before turning to the pyro meta-human. "That's what happened to you, Diablo. They made their mistake which you used to your own benefit before throwing them away."

At this point, the others were more or less confused as to why Harley was ripping into Chanto for no apparent reason. The meta felt great regret for what he did, yet she became extremely snappy as a result.

However, it soon came to a slow realization to the others that Harley wasn't mad at Diablo at all… she's mad at herself with her relationship with the Joker.

Harley takes a swig of her absinthe as she glances at Harkness. "And pal, anyone who throws boomerangs has some real issues letting go." She frowns soon after with a glaring thought. 'Just like me.'

"Why is there always a knife fight every single time you open your mouth?" Harley fully turns over to Digger when he says this. "You know, outside you're amazing. But inside, you're ugly cuz you made it so."

"We all are." Harley chuckles out. "We all are!" She shuts her mouth a bit before nudging her head over to Croc. "Except for him."

"...Why?"

"He's got one hell of a skin condition." Harley comments. "Been seeing a dermatologist for years."

Waylon blinks in bewilderment. "You still remember that bit?"

The former psychologist taps her noggin. "I have an acute memory bank up here."

"Speaking of memory banks…" Floyd pulls up the case containing the military grade laptop and places it on the bar's table. "How should we deal with this?"

"Deal with what?" Asks Croc.

"Finding an idea of what the Joker is actually cooking." Deadshot opens up the case with the laptop right after. "Have no clue on getting in, though."

Captain Boomerang reached over to the marksman. "Let me."

Harkness snatches the laptop case and drags it over to him. He then pulled out his horse plushie from his coat pocket, garnering looks from the others.

"What's Pinkie Pie gonna do?" Harley couldn't help but ask.

"This."

Oddly reaching into the horse plushie's stomach, Digger opens it up and unfurls a retractable USB cord. He connects it to the laptop where a horse graphic pops up before becoming a window.

"The hell you doing?"

"Breaking into it." Digger's fingers flew across the keys, having him start accessing it after putting in a password.

"Since when could you do that?"

"You thought my only specialty was boomerangs? I robbed banks, in case you forgot. An' in recent years, they've become more techy than old school. So a military-grade laptop is nothin' for me. Pinkie here merely gives me a slight edge."

Some impressed looks were given, yet there was one collective thought that came to mind.

"Where'd you even get that?" Harley asked.

"Toyman." He revealed, causing the group to all look at each other as if to make sure they heard that correctly.

"...The one in Metropolis or Tokyo?" Deadshot asked to be sure.

"Japan. He owed me a favor and made me this."

Diablo looked between the Captain and the My Little Pony plush. "And you stuff it in the plushie because-"

"Alright, I'm in."

Chanto's question wouldn't be answered after Digger finally accessed the laptop's encrypted files. Soon enough, he opened nearly all of them and quickly digested through the contents with his speed reading.

"Van Criss labs was expanding upon some chemical compounds they used to contract for Arkham upon the request of some group called Argus."

"Argus…" Floyd mutters out. "Now I remember…"

"Argus? Who're they?" Asks Harley.

"A research and special ops division of the US government, charged to take down terrorist threats without public knowledge." Floyd informs them. "Never knew of them when I was in the military, but only heard about a number of things when I went solo."

"Like what?" Asked Croc.

"Started out after Superman made his debut and the government got worried. They began to be very... problematic over the years since its founding. Only rumors. For instance, they took down a plane full of civilians in order to take out one terrorist flying to China for something. Another was blowing up a building where the leader of a third-world country was staying at for a conference, which I soon learned was trafficking all sorts of weapons to terrorists. List goes on and on. Most of all, they like extorting others for convenience's sake."

"Like what they're doing with us in cleaning up their mess." Chanto adds in.

"So Argus was having Van Criss labs make more of this calming chemical for… reasons." Floyd says aloud. "I bet Joker somehow caught wind of it and decided to take the stuff and more on what he's cooking up." He looks back to Digger. "Can you see-"

"Already on it." The clacking of the keyboard went on as Boomerang was going through several more files. He then recalled something before pulling out a set of blueprints from his coat pocket and had it sprawled onto the bar table. "Saw these earlier at the crate site. I bet Joker plans on launching 'em he either made or acquired, filling them with the initial chemical compound as the payload." Says Digger, all before focusing back on the laptop and scrolling through the files. "And by the looks of it, the bloke added in somethin' else into it to make it worse."

"Being what?"

A digital sequence appeared on the screen, showing the one initial molecule compound being mixed with another. Something which Harley was all too familiar with.

"His signature concoction." Harley mutters aloud. "Joker toxin."

"Combination of the two would be very… chaotic."

A look was more or less shared with them all. God knows how bad it would be as a result.

"Joker has been quite the chemist. Making variants of his stuff for a long time." Harley comments.

"But where would he get the idea in doing this?" Deadshot stressed out.

Harley cringed. "Oh yeah… Joker must've gotten the idea from Scarecrow. He thought of mixing the one solution with his Fear Gas and letting it loose on the city." The former Arkham doctor pondered a little. "I thought that actually happened during the mass breakout weeks ago when everything went to shit."

"Talk about idea theft." Chanto comments.

Croc loudly snorts. "What a lyin' bastard. Not so original after all."

The squad was silent after this. They were all digesting the information they had just learned.

Croc and Harkness could more or less care of what would happen to the city. They wouldn't really give a damn about it. However, their lives are on the line now if they now fail to stop the Joker.

For Harley, she thought of a number of people residing there. Most important was Ivy as she didn't know what could happen to her with the combo concoction of the Arkham compliance formula with Joker's Toxin. Would it be bad or worse for her, given her plant-based abilities and biology.

With him now knowing what the Joker plans on doing to Gotham, with the extension towards his daughter, Floyd is determined to stop the Mad Clown.

Despite not wanting to be a part of this, Floyd now decides to take the lead.

By this point everyone is on board, except for Diablo. Fresh off his confession about his family and Harley's jabs, he's more convinced than ever to not use his powers.

The Aussie was quick to pick up on Chanto's reaction to all this. Him emotionally backing away from all this. Not wanting things to get messed up on what's to come, Boomerang speaks up. "You have done some terrible things with your powers, Diablo." Chanto turns and focuses on the bank robber in the eatery. "There's no denying it, mate. But you did help save our hides with 'em too earlier. You just need to decide to have it control you or you control it."

Silence was all Diablo could give. Him doing his best to accept such words as it conflicted with his earlier feelings on the matter.

Being determined now, the marksman speaks up. "All that we have now is each other. And if we don't watch each other's backs, we won't make it out alive." He looks towards the others. "I more or less have a plan in mind to work on. But first," Floyd glances over to the former psychologist, "Harley, any idea where he'd be now?"

Smirking a bit, she downs the rest of her absinthe before answering. "Joker will most definitely be at the Funhouse."

Accepting this bit of information, Floyd looks towards the others. "Alright. We'll head out in five. Everyone get ready until then."

The group disbanded and went their separate ways for the time being.

From nearby, a dark figure watched this conversation take place. His frown deepened, having him ponder on how to proceed next.

In the women's restroom, without even a second thought, Harley rips off the domino mask and tosses it into the trash can. Going to the sink, she turned on the faucet before splashing her face. Looking back into the mirror, the water hid away the tears she was shedding from her reddened eyes.

Harley didn't mean to rip into Diablo. She just needed an excuse to vent, yet the pyro was the unfortunate receiver as he still grieves for his actions.

Blindly reaching towards the side, she attempted to get some paper towel or something to dry off her face.

"Here."

"Thanks." Harley says in a tired tone, taking the towel and patting her face. After some moments, she stiffened before prying it off and whirled around to see a somewhat familiar hooded figure dressed all in black.

The teen in the black hood amicably waved at her. "Hello."

"What are you doing here?" Harley then recalls their current location. "We're in the ladies restroom! You can't be in here. Don't you have some decency?"

"Oh…" Roxas fumbles in his spot when realizing this. "Oh, uh… fooey."

Observing this, whatever incredulity that she had (she didn't) faded upon seeing his reaction. "Kid, why are you here?"

Recomposing himself, the Greater Nobody responds. "You said you were trying to hunt down the Joker. I came over to see if you were alright."

"...You're just a figment of my imagination." She tried to rationalize. "I must be deluding right now."

The way his head tilted made her brow twitch. "Am I? Are you?"

Quinn's cheeks puffed out. "Shut up. Today's been stressful as it is."

"I could tell." He gives her a hidden, concerned look. "Are you alright?"

"Does it look like I'm alright?" Snaps Harley. "I've been bagging up so much, for so long. And now I'm just…"

"Flowing through the motions." He finishes for her.

She deflates a little, mostly out of emotional exhaustion. "You can say that. Ended up unloading it onto someone who didn't deserve it."

Roxas thought back to a similar time. Of when he planned on leaving the Organization due to what happened with Xion. Of how he argued with Axel, one of his best friends.

"I can probably relate." He said with a sigh.

Harley gave him a look out of the side of her eye before exhaling herself.

"And now I'm about to head out with the others to take down the Joker."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"It is… mostly." The hesitation in her voice and posture was rather obvious.

"...You're not really committed to it, are you?"

Harley looked away as she responded back with, "More like conflicted."

"Conflicted? Why?"

"Saving lives in comparison with who we're about to face. I live if I do the former, but I'd die if I did the latter."

"That doesn't seem too hard."

"It is with me." Harley could tell the hooded teen was looking at her, all but demanding an explanation. "I don't know, alright. It's just that the Joker made me who I am. I don't know what to do when taking him out."

Roxas raised his hands slightly. "Easy. You live your life. Your existence."

"It's not that easy, kid. " Harley bitterly said.

"You do have a choice on it. And in this case, the one road to take is plainly obvious."

"But my choice-"

"You've always had a choice." Roxas interrupts her. "Harley, from what I've seen and learned, Joker used your work and kindness against you. Catering your discussions into making you believe you're on the right track. He manipulated you into thinking it was yours to begin with when following him. All you did was end up basing your life on what he might think while he treats you like dirt or some weapon to exploit."

"...You sound like Red." Harley said with a pained smile.

Roxas smirked slightly beneath his hood. "Then she's a smart person to see that. She wouldn't have put so much time and energy towards your safety if she didn't at least care for you. And I know the Joker never treated you as you should have been in your relationship is a very bad understatement."

Reflecting on this, the kid was right.

Since before and after the day Harley fell from grace, Ivy did so much to help her. The warnings, the advice. All because of one kind act of wanting to be a good doctor towards her patient. A relationship took root between them and it slowly blossomed over time.

For Ivy's case, she gave Harley a cocktail shot which made her immune to just about every toxin there is out there while highly resistant to others. And there was a side effect that made her a bit more enhanced than the typical human being.

'I should've appreciated it more.' Harley thought with a frown. 'All I did to repay was just… going back to Joker over and over again.'

With the Joker, he took her kindness and dragged it through the muck, just like with her reputation. Nothing positive out of it. Just a bigger downward slump to ruin in a very toxic mess.

Her professional career was ruined. Her relationship with her family was ruined as they hardly wanted to speak, let alone acknowledge her anymore.

Thinking about it now, the family angle Joker told her about must've been complete bullshit like how he told his previous doctors. The only thing she could connect that, in general, was Ivy talking about her abusive father once in group therapy before Harley came to Arkham and the Joker stole the idea and twisted it around for his own amusement.

Same can be said with what's happening now with the Joker stealing Scarecrow's one idea.

However… she still had friends and some acquaintances… dysfunctional as they were. Red, Selina, Freeze… Croc, Diablo, Boomerang, Deadshot were to name a few.

And maybe this kid with the hood. He was really nice to her.

She tightened her fists and thought, 'I have a lot to make up for.'

"In the end, you didn't make any big willing choices. They were all Joker's while you blindly followed without any second thought. Like a puppet with strings." Roxas told her softly, but with a slight edge to it. "How about you cut your strings and be free so you can make your own choices again."

Harley let out a bitter giggle. "Easy for you to say, kid. I'm no Pinnochio. I have no Jiminy Cricket to guide my conscience back to the straight and narrow. No Blue Fairy to make me normal. I only have a Gipetto who's a twisted psychopath."

Roxas chuckles. "I can say Ivy is your Cricket, who you've ignored the majority of the time. I'm no fairy. I'm just a Nobody. But being normal… well, typical normality is overrated. You make your own normal out of your existence. And the only way to make that happen is to ditch the puppetmaster."

Harley let out a hum as she was thinking it all over.

"What are you gonna do now?" He asks after some time of silence.

"Choosing how I want to do things." She gives the hooded teen a smile. "Thanks for the pep talk."

"Anytime, Harley."

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

"You ready in there?" Digger calls out from the other side of the restroom door.

"In a moment!" Harley blurts out.

Turning around, she saw the hooded teen was no longer there.

"...Did he just pull a Batman on me?"

Was he real or just something from her imagination?

Whatever the case was, she felt more connected and determined on what she needed to do now.

Opening the door, Harley saw Harkness standing there, gesturing her to follow.

Coming to the entrance of the eatery, Harley saw the others were awaiting her arrival. And when seeing Floyd now wearing his mask, she giggles when recalling a particular detail from earlier today.

"Pussy."

"I will knock your ass out." He snaps at her, turning on his special eye patch soon after. "I do not care that you're a girl, let alone a squadmate."

"Nice to see you care." She playfully says.

Leaving the eatery, the squad made their way to the Funhouse.

However, Harley hung back and spoke up. "Hey, Diablo."

The pyro-meta slowed down a bit to focus on the former psychologist. "Si?"

"...I'm sorry, about earlier." She apologizes to him. "I shouldn't-"

"It's alright. Thanks though."

Harley scrunched her face a little. She wanted him to at least yell back or something to vent his anger for what she had done earlier. But Diablo was merely tired. Tired of everything. So he had no such energy to really yell at him.

'He accepted my apology.' She smiled a little. 'At least that's somethin'.'

Getting near the Funhouse, Digger gets ahead of them and swings out a boomerang.

"What was that all about?" Asked Floyd.

"Just wait for it."

"Wait for what? An explosion?" Chanto questions.

"Don't be stupid, mate."

The others hear a particular whirl in the air. In a quick reaction, Digger catches his boomerang as it comes back to him.

"Okay… What was that for?" Harley asks.

Harkness pulled out his phone and connected it to the one boomerang. Soon enough, he showed the other squadmates a recorded feed of the layout from up above.

"Okay. Joker is having his men prepping three rockets filled with his new gas. No doubt with us around, he's rushing things so we don't ruin his punchline."

"Then we better act fast." Floyd says quickly. "Anything else your thing caught?"

Rewinding the footage, Digger paused to have them get a better idea on what's happening.

"Okay. Got some more of Joker's men stationed here. The missiles on the far side of the Funhouse. Joker having a front-row seat…"

Deadshot took this all in as he viewed the footage a bit more, getting more of a plan together. "Alright. We'll be going in hot. Need some cover to help get Digger to the rockets and disable them."

"If we can't?"

"Blow 'em up." Floyd looks over to Diablo. "You gonna fight with us this time?"

There was a clear look of hesitation on his part. "What if I lose control?"

"Then maybe we'll have a chance." Was all Deadshot said in response.

The Squad spread out, got into position and waited for the signal for them to finally go into action. They were in crouched placements and were silent.

"Alright, gentlemen." They heard the Joker say aloud. "Are we ready for a laugh of a lifetime?"

"Just about sir." The squad heard one of the goons say from over yonder.

"Good. Then let's start this off with a bang!"

This was it.

"Here we go!" Floyd shouted and the squad ran out of cover and charged.

The mercenary was the first to take action, firing at the goons once they rolled out of cover. The bullets flew and quickly took them down before Floyd took cover once more.

With this sudden bit of commotion, Joker and his forces turned to see the squad coming in on the offensive this time.

Croc roared as he charged and plowed through several enemies in his path. His strength was unmatched at this point in time with all of Joker's men. With a swing of one arm, he knocked one person out easily while another grasped a man and used him as a budgeting weapon before chucking him over yonder.

Behind him, Digger was checking his sides as he occasionally threw some boomerangs which sliced through the necks and limbs of the goons all before they came back to him. Without wasting some movements, he swung his arms about to continually throw his weapons to cut up more enemies before returning to sender.

Holding up her mallet, Harley holds a wide grin as she swings it forward, grasping at the edges of the handle. She goes into a spin, hefting up the oversized hammer, letting the weight of the end of the mallet carry her momentum to add more power when knocking down her enemies.

Slowly coming down from her spinning, Harley saw some goons pulling out their guns and about to fire at Chanto. Pulling her gun from the holster, she fired several quick shots to either gun down the goons or peirce their arms to disable them.

Chanto noticed this, giving a brief nod before whipping out his arm and firing a stream of flames to scorch some goons from behind. They flail about as the fires either consume them and expire sometime later or down for the count and survive with severe burns.

Going in, the Squad worked differently since their arrival into the Mile. As opposed to being disjoined back then, they were now more of a cohesive unit.

Soon breaking out of cover, Floyd moved onward as he resumed firing. "Chanto, keep Croc covered." Deadshot ordered. "Quinn, Digger, keep up with me."

Digger dodged and rolled away from one goon wielding a shotgun. The buckshot blasted the places the Aussie was once at. However, the means of evasion came to an end as Boomerang brought up his coat to block a shotgun round all before coming in and grasping the weapon. Once wrestling it out of the goon's grasp, he backed up and pulled the trigger, only to realize the weapon was empty. Yet this didn't deter him as he swung the shotgun like a club to knock the goon across the head. As this happened, Digger was knocked down as he didn't notice several enemies coming right at him while he was distracted.

During the scuffle, Croc saw Boomerang was in trouble. He came charging in, knocking and pulling a number of Joker's men off of the Aussie. He hoisted Digger back up onto his feet who gave a nod of thanks.

Diablo was quick to rush in and incinerate any other of Joker's men who tried to take out the matching pair.

Harley Quinn was a whirlwind of death, taking out any and all that got within her path with overzealous glee with both her mallet and her guns.

From behind most of the action, Floyd was doing all he could to support the squad by gunning down anyone trying to take out his team from behind some large debris from all of the commotion going on. He did his best to cover each member as they were growing apart from each other.

Suddenly, he was grasped from behind, hoisted into the air and thrown out of his cover. He tumbled slightly before quickly coming up from a recovery roll. There Floyd saw one large, oversized Joker goon charging at him with a large hammer. He would've used his rifle, but it was some feet away courtesy of the one throw. As a result, Deadshot quickly threw up his arms and fired at the Joker goon with his wrist gauntlets.

The bullets pierced the man, but he was stubborn in not going down. However, the large man did bring down his hammer, forcing Floyd to roll out of the way. He tried making his way over to his rifle, but there was some interference with some enemies getting in the way. They were taken out quickly by Floyd's wrist gauntlets firing them in the chest or limbs as he rushed past them with the larger Joker goon hot on his trail.

When Deadshot got close to his rifle, he was knocked down by one of the goons. They tussled on the ground all before Floyd fired his wrist gauntlet several times to kill the man. Upon pushing the dying man off him, the mercenary saw the larger Joker goon hovering over him. His large hammer held high and swiftly came down in order to crush Deadshot.

*CLANG*

In the blink of an eye, something happened. The metal hammerhead made contact with something, resulting in the large *clang* but didn't budge the one behind all this.

Between the pair of them stood someone new neither of them had seen before. A dark, hooded figure who managed to surprisingly block and hold the large weapon back with a unique-looking sword in his grasp that looked like an oversized black key.

"What the-?"

The large clown didn't say anything else as the arrival quickly sliced through the large hammer in an instant. Another second later, the man was sent flying at breakneck speeds across the battlefield and crashed through the computer consoles connected to the missiles.

The large commotion momentarily came to a brief halt with the new arrival.

All eyes were on this new arrival and for one former psychologist, her eyes widened exponentially.

"Who the hell…?" Floyd muttered.

For a moment, he thought it was the Bat with all the black this person wore. But that was discarded quickly due to the lack of a pointed cowl and cape. Not to mention the person wielding a weapon that was clearly out of the ordinary which didn't fit the Caped Crusader at all… in a manner of speaking.

Over at Belle Reeve, many questions arose with what Waller and her people were more or less viewing from the satellite feed.

"What in the hell?" Said one of the agents.

"Who is that?"

"Where'd he even come from?"

Seeing all the black on this newcomer made Colonel Flagg think of one person in particular.

"The Bat?" Asked Flagg, taking another moment to give the hooded teen a proper look. "One of his sidekicks?"

"No." Says Waller, looking at the satellite feed with a greater degree of intensity now. "It's someone else."

While everyone both in the Amusement Mile and at Belle Reve's monitor room was outright confused as to who this was, one person more or less knew them.

'Kid?' Harley thought in relative recollection, her eyes becoming buggy. 'Wait… so he isn't imaginary?!'

In a flash in his other hand, Roxas summoned another Keyblade in order to quickly block and deflect the newly incoming hail of gunfire. All of the bullets merely collided against his weapons' unique metal surfaces and clattered onto the earth.

"You better get up." Roxas said to Deadshot.

The assassin could only dumbly stare up at the teen before nodding with uncertainty. "Uh, sure."

"Good. I'll cover you."

Roxas raised his Keyblades and blurred. He disappeared and reappeared across the battlefield with several Joker goons down for the count, holding out both Keyblades in a stylized manner. He didn't stop, immediately spinning around, throwing his black Keyblade at another one of Joker's thugs, the blade smacking the man on the head.

In a flash, Oblivion returned back into his hand and Roxas went on to attack the next of Joker's goons. This time, Oathkeeper repeated the earlier actions of its black counterpart in a whirlwind-like manner. Before long, he threw one of his Keyblades. Instead of recalling it, he warped over to it, grasped its handle and came for a devastating series of blows to a larger Joker goon.

"He a speedster or somethin'?" Croc thought aloud.

"Nah, he's just fast." Was Digger's response.

Thinking about it, Croc was right. Boomerang had plenty of experience with the speedsters of Central City as they had this electric trail blended with a blur whenever they ran about. The kid assisting them didn't have such a trait at all. Not even the quick *woosh* he sometimes saw Superman enacting his super speed.

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, the two convicts use this opportunity to their advantage. With a path relatively cleared for them, Digger and Waylon rushed over to where the rockets were placed and realized something.

"Shit, the kid broke the consoles." Boomerang complained.

"Can you disable the missiles?" The reptilian asked.

"Don't know if I can now. We need to blow 'em up now."

Witnessing all this and annoyed with all this interference, Joker activates the three missiles with the hand trigger he pulled out from his pocket. The thrusters flared to life and roared in the air before they began going off their posts one by one.

"Shit! We ran outta time!" Digger yelled out.

"Now what?" Diablo shouted.

"We take them out!" Deadshot ordered, switching his attention to the missiles.

Throwing his hand into his coat, Digger pulls out a rather particular boomerang. Something that was a bit more advanced in appearance.

'Really wish I have more of these.' Digger gritted out in thought.

Rearing his arm back, he threw it hard forward as the boomerang flew through the air. It made contact with the one missile, magnetically attaching itself to it. A moment later, a largely visible EMP field went off seconds later. The missile plummets to the surface down below and crashes as a result.

Not wanting to ask about Digger's unique piece of artillery, the others quickly looked about to find a way to take the other rockets down. Fortunately, Waylon found one and called out.

"Deadshot!" Croc shouted to the marksman, pointing to a specific weapon best suited for this situation.

Beneath his mask, Floyd grinned.

Rushing over, the assassin found it was a guidance missile launcher that was discarded beside a dead goon. And lucky for him, it had multiple ports loaded.

Deadshot quickly hoists it on his shoulder, takes aim and sets the guidance lock on the two rockets and fires. The missiles took off and flew across the air and struck the payloads.

The two rockets explode into a huge cloud, having the concocted chemicals become gasses that begin spreading all over. It didn't help with the wind carrying it into the city.

Looking over, Diablo rushes over and uses his flames to begin burning the substance as best he can. Yet he was struggling with the amount there was.

Floyd calls out to the pyro-meta. "Diablo. Just think it through."

"I got this." Diablo's form began to flicker with flames. "Let me show you what I really am."

Needing to turn up the heat, Diablo began pushing himself further. In the process, the flames around him began growing and shaping him into a tall, flaming skeleton avatar with a demonic appearance, whose size grew several feet taller.

With this form, Diablo's flames became hotter and deadlier than before, to the point where they turned blue-hot.

The flames began to spread more and more, however, it was causing quite a drawback as his form was beginning to give out. Yet he couldn't stop now.

"You look like you need some help."

Before Diablo could look to see who was beside him, he saw an added jet of flame fired from beside him.

The added flames were enough to help destroy the rest of Joker's concocted chemical gas. However, it got a bit too well as the amount of flames ended up causing quite the explosion, sending Diablo and the one assisting him to be sent hurtling back.

There was a tumble as Diablo rolled across several bits of debris before collapsing onto the ground, panting for breath.

"Hey, it's okay. You did it."

The pyro meta-human glanced over to see the hooded teen above him.

"Who are you?" Were the first words out of Chanto's mouth.

Roxas holds out his hand, offering to help him up. "Just a Nobody."

Diablo stared at the hand for a few seconds, bewildered by such an odd if not unfitting title for the newcomer before accepting it, the hooded teen easily hoisting the man up.

A series of feet came rushing over, Chanto and Roxas turned over to see Digger, Waylon and Floyd approaching them.

"Uh, thanks for the help kid."

Roxas nods. "No problem." He looks about and sees something off. "Wait, where's Harley?"

Hearing this, the other members of the Squad took notice of their missing teammate. Not just that, but someone else in particular. And it was Harkness who voiced the shared thought.

"Add to that, where the hell is Joker?"

While Diablo and Roxas were stopping the chemical agent from affecting Gotham, the Joker used the commotion to escape. However, this didn't go unnoticed.

'Not this time.' Harley thought, driving one of the Joker's cars in hot pursuit.

She had seen this tactic used time and time again. She couldn't wait for the others. Thus she had to go on her own.

There was a bit of a chase as Harley sped her confiscated vehicle as quickly as she could. She was lucky she got in front of the Joker's ride before swerving around to block his path. In the process, he harshly hit the brakes so he wouldn't crash his car.

In a matter of moments when calming down, Joker saw who cut him off and blinked in surprise to see it was Harley.

Stepping out of his car, he approached the other as Harley got out of the driver's seat and only stood there.

The Joker exhaled dramatically, throwing his hands up and shaking his head disapprovingly, placing his hands on his hips.

"Harley, Harley, Harley. What am I gonna do with you?" The Clown Prince of Crime says sarcastically. "You just had to ruin my gift to Gotham, didn't you?"

At that moment, Harley… ended up becoming a bit timid and insecure.

"I'm sorry for messing up your surprise." Says Harley. "I had to convince them I hated you in order to come back. I love you, Puddin'."

The frown he bore soon flips right side up as he smiles.

"You sure?"

"I've done everything you said. Every test, every trial, every initiation. All that before and after I came with you. I proved all that to show how much I loved you."

The man chuckles a little. "I am not someone who is… loved. I am an idea." He waves his hands whimsically before encircling her. "A state of mind. I execute my will, according to my plan and you… my Harley Quinn has been a part of my plans for a long time. After all, you are the extension of my will. Of my actions. Of the fear I bring."

Over at Belle Reve, Waller was seeing the satellite feed. Wearing a displeased look on her face, the Warden primes the nanobomb in Harley's neck and is ready to set it off.

'I'm not liking where this conversation is going.' She thought. 'Might as well kill two birds with one stone.'

Back over with the deranged couple, the Joker kept on speaking. Throughout all this, Harley could practically feel his voice getting into her head and slowly affecting her. All that time together had conditioned her to follow him with just his charisma and actions.

However, something else greatly fought back inside her head to turn things out differently. Something which helped assist every part of her psyche to push back his influence. If one were to peer inside her mind, they would see a number of Dream Eaters fending off against the aspects of Joker which plagued her mind over the years.

"...If you weren't so crazy, I'd think you're insane." Chuckled out the Joker as he finished his speech to his most faithful asset.

Just as Waller was about to reach out and activate the bomb and kill them both… when something halts her from moving onward.

"I was crazy about you before, but not anymore." Harley declared, her voice cold and deadly.

Silence fell upon them. Not just in their immediate vicinity, but over where Amanda Waller and her people were stationed.

The Joker looked at Harley with a quizzical look.

"What did you just say?" The clown asked, making sure that he wasn't hearing things.

The timid, meek act Harley had was swiftly replaced by a persona that greatly opposed the Joker. One which the Mad Clown quickly didn't like from what he was seeing.

"You heard what I said." She snarls. "But let me sum it up for you: go fuck yourself."

This only began enraging the Joker.

"Harley, stop this nonsense. I-"

*TWHACK*

He was silenced by being smacked in the chest, having him stagger back and wheezing, courtesy of her mallet.

"I thought long and hard while away and I realized a number of things." She all but stomps towards him. "I thought I couldn't live without you, but I was wrong. Your love is a small box you kept me in. But I won't stay in it!"

Before the Joker could speak, Harley whirled her mallet and smacked him across the face. He staggered back once more, attempting to compose himself when he was struck again and again as she spoke.

"You never appreciated all the hard work I did for you!"

*BAM*

"What kindness I showed you!"

*BAM*

"What I sacrificed!"

*BAM*

"And what did I get in return? Lies!"

*BAM*

"Betrayals!"

*BAM*

"ABUSE!"

*BAM*

All the while she was venting her anger upon him, she was shedding tears of anguish, having them freely flow down her face as she bared her teeth like a rabid animal. During some of the upcoming swings, one could hear the occasional crunching of bones.

"You're a pathetic monster." Harley pants out, chest heaving in and out of air. "You hurt people just for your own sick enjoyment, just because you can't stand it when others are trying to be happy without you. Going so far to make their lives miserable, just so you won't ever be forgotten. That's what you're really afraid of, you parasitic asshole!"

Joker would've said something, but his jaw was dislocated by this point. However, he did voice one final thing.

"IEHEEEEEEEEEE!"

It was the voice of extreme agony when the mallet came down right between his legs. It was painful enough, added in with his previous injuries did he finally passed out completely.

She looked down on him, seeing how truly pathetic he was. How the vile presence kept leeching off the misery. Now he was beaten. Not by Batman or his sidekicks, but by her.

"Long story short, Joker, we're over." She spits out, both figurative and literally.

When the others arrive on the scene, they see Harley spit on the Joker before turning and walking away. One of them got over to the Joker and saw his unconcious battered state, especially seeing a number of his teeth were knocked out.

Over at the control center where Amanda and her team were stationed…

"Shiiiiiiiiiit…"

No one could really recall who said this, but it was an appropriate response with what they more or less witnessed from the satellite and audio feed.

"Target is neutralized." Amanda said evenly, a tinge of amusement that could be detected if one listened closely enough. "Tag him and bag him."

"Not kill him?" Says one of the techies.

"Not yet."

-Some Hours Later; Belle Reve, Louisiana-

Back at the prison, the Squad was more or less forced to debrief to the warden on what happened on their mission.

They clearly had a possible chance of fleeing for their lives as the mission was done and over with. However, the nano bombs in their necks were quite the reminder they were still leashed to Amanda Waller.

Until they were rounded up and hauled back to prison, courtesy of some military squad arriving rather quickly, Task Force X merely waited things out back at the eatery to drink for a successful job well done.

Of course, they did have to drag Joker's unconscious and broken body with them and chain him up so he wouldn't be fleeing to parts unknown like he usually did. Even if he was beaten up, the slippery bastard always found a way of escaping confinement. And presently, the Suicide Squad didn't know where he was being kept at now.

As for Roxas, well, he disappeared before Waller's people showed up and questioned him on his presence.

Once the debriefing was over… well…

"We jus' saved Gotham. A thank you would be nice." Harley whines out.

"Thank you." Waller says rather blandly.

Despite hearing the lack of emotion in this, Harley smiles nonetheless. "You're welcome."

Floyd scoffs. "So, we did all this and we don't get shit?"

"You're still alive." Waller began. "That and ten years off your prison sentences."

This earned some laughs from the others.

While this was all well and good, this didn't satisfy Floyd. "Nah, that's not enough. I'm seeing my daughter."

The warden saw the look on the mercenary's face. She knew the man would pretty much kill his way out of Belle Reve just to be with his daughter if her life was in danger. So if she got in the way, she'd be on the top of his list.

"That can be arranged." She reluctantly says. Amanda then notices the other Squad members soon following as they too seemed to want something else added to their "reward". "Any other requests?"

Harley blurts out the first thing on her mind. "Ooh! An espresso machine."

"A better cell." Says Waylon. "And better food."

"Ten years off a triple life sentence?" Says Harkness, with bits of disbelief in his voice. He soon stalks forward, getting up close to the warden. "Darling, I'm walking outta here a free man or we're going to start having some real fun."

"How so?" She says challengingly, holding up the detonator to the nano bombs in his neck.

Boomerang grit his teeth irritably, reigning in his anger.

"...Few other bits would suffice."

"Expect more missions out of you, Harkness." Waller gives him a smile he didn't like. "After all, boomerangs always come back."

"Don't steal my line, you bitch!" The Aussie snapped back.

Things at Belle Reve changed after the squad came back.

Digger got to chat more with some guards, or at the very least the prison psychologist. Also, he got some more My Little Pony memorabilia in his cell.

Waylon got better meals. Not to mention inside of his cell, he had a fridge full of beer tucked in one corner. On the wall was a flat-screen TV where he could watch some shows and games.

For Floyd, he got to see his daughter Zoe again. It was a bit negotiable on his ex-wife's part for supervised visits. However, her boyfriend Darnell tagging along was a no-go.

With Chanto, he had better privacy where he could listen to a number of his favorite bands. Not to mention a good selection of books.

In her cell, Harley was working on her espresso machine. Recent model. It also came with a mini-fridge and cabinet so she can add in all sorts of "spice" into the mix.

Being comfy on her bed, she was presently reading a self-help book titled "Getting over your Ex". Something she needed a lot right now for some additional help at this time.

Having enough of her espresso, she got up from her bed and got to her cell's sink to wash the cup. In the meantime, she glanced upwards and saw her reflection stare back at her. The smile she saw wasn't simply just happy. It seemed... Fulfilled. Satisfied. But with a splash of tired sadness. A result of her finally getting into her own life. She could still feel the phantom feeling the Joker had on her, but it'll be a while for her to be fully free from his grasp.

Once done cleaning, she set the cup aside to let it air dry before going back to her bed to resume reading her book.

She didn't know how long it was since she sat down when she felt a shift on the bed. As if someone sat beside her.

Glancing over, she saw the hooded teen.

"Hello again."

Harley shook her head a little, smiling. "I must be dreaming or you're really good at breaking into this place."

Roxas doesn't answer, only playfully humming.

"Alright, don't tell me." She shoves him lightly in turn. "You know, I never got to ask your name."

The greater Nobody paused for a moment before pulling down his hood, revealing his blue-eyed blonde features to her as he gave her a warm smile. "It's Roxas."

"Harley Quinzel. But you already knew that." She said with a giggle. 'At least I now have a name to that voice and face.' She smiled in thought. 'That'll be something to remember by.' Suddenly, she saw the baby blue ice cream in her field of vision. "What's this?"

"The icing on the cake."

"Huh?"

"You know, a job well done with what happened. You beating the Joker, literally and figuratively. Surviving all that. I think an additional reward is in order."

Harley snorts quite loudly with a following giggle. "Why thank you." She takes the offered treat into her hand with a smile.

She then hears some brief crunching and licks, indicating Roxas was eating his ice cream. However, instead of digging in right away, Harley merely sat there awkwardly. Her eyes looked at the frozen treat in her hand.

She fiddled around with her treat until she looked up at the Nobody. "Gotta ask ya somethin'."

"About what?" He responded, still munching on his ice cream.

"Why did you help me? I mean, really. I did a lot of bad things when I was with the Joker. I'm a villain at my core. What did I do to deserve…" She trailed off, not finishing the sentence but knowing the message was understood.

Harley turned and saw the solemn look on Roxas' face.

There was a brief moment of contemplation befor he answered. "Just like you, I had my moments of helplessness. When I first met you, I recognized the look in your eyes. The eyes of someone who was broken. Someone who felt hopelessness." Roxas' blue eyes were distant now. "I was lucky enough to have some friends, but… I lost them and things happened. I could relate that if you didn't have anyone willingly wanting to listen, it'll be harder to move on. So I learned that the best way to cure it is to get up and do something yourself. But it's much easier if you had help along the way. Don't wait for good things to happen. If you go out and make good things happen, you'll fill the world with hope. I wanted to give you hope with the right push. But if you were lost along the way, I thought I could be a light in the storm to show you the way."

A smile grew on Harley's face with a few tears dripping down her cheek. She greatly needed to hear that. It has been a long time since someone genuinely cared for her wellbeing. The last time she got such words was from Ivy.

"Thank you. I…" She shook her head and walked over to him, pulling him in for a hug.

"Thank you." Quinn whispered, slightly trembling.

"No problem, Harley." Said Roxas, patting her back. He pulled away after a second, his eyes glancing at her ice cream. "Better eat that. Don't wanna leave that to waste."

She giggled before taking a lick out of it. The first taste she got had her recoil a little. "That's oddly salty." She mutters before she gets the aftertaste. "And sweet?"

"I like the flavor. It grew on me."

She took some more licks out of it before taking a decent bite out of it. Harley hummed moments later. She thought the salty taste was from her tears coming into her mouth, but that wasn't the case. Thinking on it now, she felt some irony as her present bits of happiness would be salty in general for the particular taste and feel fading away over time.

"Thank you, Rocky."

"It's Roxas."

"I know." Was her playful response, resuming to devour her ice cream. During this, a thought came to mind, having her pause. "Hey, mind possibly doing me a favor?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Mind sending out a message for me?"

Next thing she knew, Harley woke up.

She was slightly groggy as she stirred from her slumber. But there was a nice spark of hope and warmth that made it feel better.

Attempting to rub the crusty stuff from her eyes, Harley felt something poke her eyelid when she made to touch it with her fingers. Pulling it back, she blinked in confusion when she saw a popsicle stick in her grasp. And there was some writing etched into the wood underneath a cute little crown.

"It… was real?"

Was she still dreaming? No. It didn't feel like she was dreaming at all. It was real. Just like her conversation with Roxas and sharing some tasty ice cream together.

Sitting up on the mattress of her cell, she inspected the popsicle a bit more, spotting additional lettering carved into the wood.

"Winner, huh." Harley mutters with a soft grin. "I think that feels appropriate right now."

There was no looking back now. Harley was ready to move forward with her life.

She couldn't wait to tell Ivy about this, someday.

As this went on, Amanda Waller was in her office and getting a report from one of her staff.

"Do we know anything about the unexpected arrival?" Was her first inquiry.

"Very little, ma'am." Says her aide. "Once clearing up the footage, we somewhat have an identity. Only made recorded appearances in London, New York, Central City, Boston and now Gotham. Even then, they were quite brief."

Waller narrowed her eyes, pondering on what to do regarding this unexpected variable, who witnessed the op and intervened in stopping the Joker's plans.

While others may seem grateful for the action, Waller thought otherwise. Unknown variables were often dangerous and hard to predict and keep track of.

Yes, this unknown assisted them just now but he assisted unsavory characters. There could be ulterior motives here.

'I'll be needing to keep an eye on whoever this is.'

Since she didn't have a name for this person, she'll just have to label him as Nobody for the time being as what they implied themself as.

-End Chapter-

AN:

Yeah, it's been a while.

The usual song and dance number on my end with work and writers block. But this chapter entry was relatively understandable. Afterall, as you can see, this is basically my rendition of the Suicide Squad 2016 film. It originally had potential, but studio problems caused things to take a drastic turn into what we got in its official release. So I decided to do my best to do a better rendition than the mess we originally got. Been a struggle, I quite say, but hopefully it was worth it.

Interesting random fact, the Harley Quinn we all know and love isn't the first person to have the moniker Harlequin. The one who bore it first in DC comics is the second wife of Alan Scott, the first Green Lantern and member of the JSA back in the Golden Age.

Speaking of releases, the DCEU is all but over now. Last film that's about to be released before James Gunn's stuff begins rolling out in 2024 is Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom coming out next month. Looks okay on the initial trailer, but it's just gonna be mixed given a whole plethora of issues.

On a similar note, Marvel's Loki season 2 was amazing and a good way to relatively end Loki's storyline. However it would've been far better if The Marvels wasn't released on the same week as the show finale. Made it very complicated among other things.

FMW: This is me waving my hands dramatically to display the minimal help I did in this chapter. Hey everyone!

In related news with this story in general, which is some months old now, an actress died. More specifically, the one who originally brought life to Dr. Harleen Quinzel back in the 90's with Batman the Animated Series. Arleen Sorkin, you shall be missed.

Anyways, be sure to review this story guys! Would like the criticisms. Please and thank you!

R&R

Near the borders of Gotham, where a series of apartment complexes reside, was the residence of a particular individual.

One would not think a second thought about the place. It was kept up to code and was nice in appearance without anything extraordinary. However, there was the factor of overgrowth on the top floor with the vines spilling out and running down the walls. This helped give the building a nice rustic aesthetic.

Some people would wonder why the building manager or owner didn't clean up this issue at all. The person owning the property stated it wasn't interfering with the electricals or causing any other issues, thus it wasn't a concern to clean it up. However, the owner did ask the resident of the top floor to maintain the growth, which the occupant was fine with it.

After all, she was controlling how it was in the first place… as her safe house.

On the rooftop, there was quite the garden filled with a plethora of flowers. More resided within the greenhouse which stored the more exotic.

A Dark Corridor appeared at the corner of the rooftop. From it strolled out Roxas as it disbursed into dark vapors behind him.

"This is the place," he mutters while looking about the rooftop garden. "I think."

Before he could explore any further, he felt his legs snagged from underneath. Roxas released a yelp as he was yanked off his feet and hoisted upside down in the air.

In mere moments, an entity all but crawled and slithered out from the bushes. It was a giant mutated Venus flytrap with a giant mouth and a bulbous head. Its roots and stems are red. Its "hands" are flower-like organs, which oddly have an eye on each of them. Not to mention that despite being a plant, this plant entity has visible butt cheeks.

"A trespasser." The sentient plant said with glee as it inspected the individual in his grasp. "Oh, happy day. I'm gonna get a good meal out of you."

Roxas tilts his head. "You sure, Frank?"

"Yes, I'm sure. You'll beat all the birds and squirrels and other shit that keep coming up here." The Venus flytrap soon gave the hooded teen a peculiar look. "Why aren't you freaking out? … And how'd you know my name?"

"Because I was told what to expect in coming here." Roxas casually revealed.

Frank's eyes blinked in utter confusion. "You did?"

Despite being hung upside down, Roxas reached behind him and magically pulled out an object. It was large, wrapped in butcher's paper and held together by some fancy taping, all of which he held from a long shaft.

With it now present in the open air, the sentient plant oddly took a big whiff. "Is… Is that what I think it is?"

"Grade A Iberian ham all the way from Spain." Says the greater Nobody, waving it in his hand. "About thirty pounds worth, aged by nine months."

An unrestrained squeal escaped from Frank's large mouth, causing him to end up releasing Roxas from his restraints. He fell down, almost face first if he didn't perform a recovery hop to end up on his feet. As this happened, the wrapped-up piece of meat was pried out of Roxas' grasp and tossed into Frank's toothy maw.

Big crunches and chews were heard from Frank's mouth, all before he swallowed the pieces whole. "Oh sweet Green mercy, this is divine." He moaned in happiness. Soon enough, he shakes his bulbous body to recompose himself. "Okay. Why are you here? Who told you my name and shit?"

"Harley sent me to deliver a message."

Frank paused, taking a moment for the answer to set in. "...Harley… sent you?"

"Yup."

Registering all this, the sentient flytrap yelled out, "Yo, Ivy!"

"What is it, Frank?" A feminine voice called out from within the residence.

"Someone here wants to talk to ya! Says Harley sent 'im!"

Roxas heard a number of steps growing louder by the moment as they were coming towards the rooftop garden. Before long, he saw where they originated from.

She is a slender young woman with green skin, green eyes, and green lips. She has long red hair, styling part of her hair on the left side, almost covering her left eye. She presently wore a black jacket with a green inlay and a white tank top underneath it, with green tights and black high heels.

This is Dr. Pamela Isley, otherwise known as Poison Ivy.

A skeptical look was seen on her face when regarding him. "Harley sent you?"

"She did. Told me to come prepared with ham for Frank." Roxas said, pointing at the now satisfied fly trap.

Ivy sent a half-lidded look at her… pet/house guest/creation. "...That would explain how you knew what to buy that bozo's compliance."

"I resent that." Frank retorts, belching rudely a moment later, making Ivy roll her eyes.

"Aside from Selina, I wager." Roxas added in. "There was also some wagyu from Japan to culatello from Italy. Within this country, there are some places in Brooklyn. Though if doing local-local, there's-"

She stops him from rambling on. "Okay, I get it."

Roxas got a better lookout at both Harley's former patient and the sentient plant. Taking note of various details before voicing a statement. "So you're indeed an Agent of the Green, just like Alec."

Pamela blinks, almost wanting to rub her ears if she hears right. "Alec? Alec Holland?"

"Yeah. I visit his swamp every other day." Roxas said with a small smile.

Knowing who the kid was referring to, Frank voices the obvious question. "How do you know him?"

"Somewhat long story." Says the blonde Nobody. "Anyways, I'm here about Harley."

Ivy shook her head a little. "Right. Back to business."

"Harley says she is sorry for leaving and misses you. Though to make up for it, she broke up with the Joker."

Frank and Ivy shared a look of disbelief. "Really?"

"Yeah… while she broke his bones and broke his jaw with a mallet over at-"

"Bullshit!" Frank blurts out.

"Pardon his outburst, but I have the same doubts as he does." Poison Ivy said, crossing her arms with a skewed look directed at the blond.

Roxas nodded in understanding. "She had a wake-up call and finally saw what the Joker really was. Harley regrets not doing it sooner. Also, she has this as proof."

Pulling out a photo from his coat, he handed it over to Pamela and what she saw nearly made her both cry slightly and burst out laughing. It was of Harley standing over a severely battered and legitimately broken tied up Joker, using Roxas' borrowed Dreamphone to take a selfie; her trusty mallet resting on her shoulder while giving a peace sign with said hand holding the mallet.

More or less recomposing herself, Ivy all but asked Roxas a demand. "Tell me what happened. Don't leave anything out."