"How are you feeling?" Guy Kopski asked me as he brushed hair from my face.
"I'm fine. Honest. But...you're Robin? Batman's only friend? How'd that come about?"
Guy laughed.
"I figured the first question you'd ask would be " who is the Batman?", any other person would have. "
"I'm not any person," I remarked. But I suddenly remembered who this man was to me, what I'd done with him. I'd betrayed the Joker.
"Let's get you to Gotham General, I'll feel better once you've been checked out by a doctor," Guy insisted. I panicked inside. I couldn't go to the hospital, there were too many risks. People would know I was alive. They'd ask questions. More news reporters and journalists. And right now, no one really knew my hair was blonde. I was more safe than I'd ever be.
"I'd rather just go home, actually. I'll rest there."
Guy shook his head "Harley, you've been stabbed. You're going to hospital, no exceptions."
He helped me to my feet and we began to leave through the same door he'd come in. I was trapped in an inescapable situation: I wasn't physically strong enough to get away and even if I did, I didn't know how to get out.
We reached the exit and Guy took out a piece of fabric. I gave him a puzzled look.
"For your eyes," he explained, "can't have you knowing the location of our hidout, right?"
I tried to think, panic consuming my body. I reached into my pocket and felt the paper from the Riddler. But it wasn't just paper, I could feel something hard inside.
Guy looked at me expectantly.
"Do you have a bathroom?" I rushed.
"Eh, sure thing. This way."
We walked along a hallway and he opened the door to a bathroom.
"I'll just be out here."
I dashed inside and locked the door, pulling out the thing from my pocket. An envelope. Ripping it open, a small metal cylinder rolled out, no markings or writing. I pulled out a note which had my address on it.
That was all.
I stared at the cylinder desperately, clueless on what it was meant to be. When I shook it, nothing rattled. I pulled and half of it came off, revealing a spray nozzle.
"Fear toxin," I whispered to myself.
I knew what I had to do to get away. I had liked Guy for his normality and detachment from this mess, but he'd been part of it all along. Worse still, he was on the wrong side.
I plucked up my courage and unlocked the door. Guy smiled as he saw me, pushing himself off the wall.
"Ma'am," he joked, tipping an invisible hat to me. I held the canister behind me in a shaking hand.
"I am so sorry, I really am."
"Hey, what for? Come here, you're alright."
He reached to embrace me and I took a huge breath, whipped my hand in front of his face and sprayed until nothing else came out. I threw he canister away and pulled my sleeve over my face again, though I was probably safe with the antidote still in my system.
Guy reconciled away from me, coughing and spluttering through the green mist.
I ran.
Every step I took shot pain through my entire body. I was broken and weak, running from something but towards nothing. I wanted to feel the rain on my face again, the wind around me. I ran like Harleen ran, fast and straight. Nothing would stop me now, not the pain in my body or the corruption of my mind. For I was corrupted and I knew it. I wasn't good anymore, not pure and innocent like the reserved Harleen Quinzel. But I could still feel that moral compass that is attached to a person, that sits on their chest and spins madly out of guilt. I had hurt people, my actions had killed Doctor Sinner. She may have deserved to die, but still...Arkham would cry. Her mother would cry, her father...whoever else. Gordon could be dead. The patients, the cops. What had I done...
