Harley Quinn stepped out of the steaming bathroom, her skin flushed and damp. She padded across the cold hardwood floor, leaving a trail of water in
her wake, and slid into the warmth of her king-sized bed. The hyenas, Lou and Bud, that she had liberated from Mr. J stirred at her presence, their
eyes blinking open to regard her with a mix of curiosity and affection.
She sighed, pulling the comforter up to her chin, her naked body still damp from the shower. The room was dimly lit, the only sound the soft hum of
the city outside her window. She looked at the two hyenas, their eyes reflecting the faint light, and felt a strange comfort in their silent presence.
Unlike the humans in her life, Lou and Bud never judged or abandoned her. They were constants in her chaotic existence.
"Why is it always so complicated with the people I get in a relationship with, fellas, huh?" she murmured, her voice tinged with genuine confusion.
"Why do I keep falling for the bad guys?" She thought about Mr. J—the way his green hair caught the light, how his laugh sent shivers of excitement down
her spine even now. What she had loved most was his unpredictability, the way he made her feel alive in a world that had felt so numbingly clinical before
him. The danger was intoxicating.
Bud, the larger of the two, let out a soft chuckle, his eyes never leaving hers. She smiled, running a hand through his coarse fur. "You're right,
Bud. It's not like I have a great track record with the good guys." She remembered her brief attempts at normalcy, the dates with men and women who couldn't
understand why she found them so boring and predictable, or why certain jokes made her laugh until she couldn't breathe.
She closed her eyes, her mind drifting back to her past. The Joker, with his wild laughter and chaotic plans, had been her first real love. She had
been drawn to his unpredictability, his madness a stark contrast to the structured world of Arkham Asylum where they had first met. His brilliance had
captivated her, the way his mind worked outside any box society tried to place it in. But their relationship had been a rollercoaster, filled with dizzying
highs and devastating lows, and ultimately, it had ended in disaster.
"Two months without him now," she whispered to Bud, who had inched closer to her side. "That's some kinda record, ain't it?" She didn't miss the
bruises or the obsession he had with the man who was dressed like a flying rodent. But she did miss the electricity, the way time seemed to stop when they
were planning something together. The way he called her "Harley-girl" in that sing-song voice that meant he was pleased with her. Also, she had to be honest
with herself Pudding wasn't bad in bed, either.
Bud gave a small whine and rested his head on her thigh. Harley scratched behind his ears, grateful for the warmth of his body against hers. "I know,
I know. He ain't good for me. You're smarter than your momma, Bud."
"And then there's Poison Ivy," she continued, her voice barely audible. "She's like a force of nature, wild and untamed. I should've known better than
to get involved with her. But there is something about her, something that calls to me."
The argument they'd had earlier that day still stung. Ivy pushes her to be "better," to stop thinking about Mr. J, and to care more about the planet and
less about the chaos. "She wants to fix me," Harley told Lou, who had sprawled across the foot of the bed. "Like I'm one of her plants that just needs
the right soil or somethin'. But what if I don't wanna be fixed? What if this is just... me?"
She shook her head, her fingers tracing patterns on the comforter. "I keep thinking, maybe if I could just find the right one, someone who understands
me, who accepts me for who I am. But maybe that's the problem. Maybe I'm just not meant for normal." The thought should have depressed her, but instead,
it felt freeing. Like taking off a too-tight pair of shorts and finally being able to breathe.
Lou, the smaller hyena, nuzzled against her leg , his eyes soft and understanding. She looked at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "You're
right, baby. Maybe I just need to accept who I am. Maybe I am meant for the chaos, the madness. Maybe I'm just meant to be Harley Quinn." Not Dr. Harleen
Quinzel anymore, not the good girl who played by the rules, but the woman who had learned to dance in the fire rather than fear getting burned.
She took a deep breath, and her decision was made. She would embrace her past, and her choices, and move forward—on her own terms. She looked at the two hyenas,
her unlikely confidants, and felt a sense of peace wash over her. They might not understand her words, but they understood her and accepted her. And for tonight,
that was enough.
"Thank you, boys," she whispered, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "For listening, for being here. For accepting me, just as I am." She didn't
need Mr. J's validation or Ivy's approval. She had herself, her own kind of madness that made perfect sense to her.
And with that, she closed her eyes, her mind at peace, and drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the warmth and comfort of her two hyena sounding boards.
Tomorrow she might call Ivy, or she might go back with Mr. J. She might find a new scheme to occupy her mind, something to make Gotham remember the name.
Harley Quinn.