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THREE HOURS of surgery and one blood transfusion later, Freya was almost as good as new. If you overlooked the large bandages and her temporary medical cell, that is. They had placed her in a hospital bed, but guards still watched over the room as if it were like she was in her normal cell. This time, however, when Rick came to visit, he had friends.
"Hey, hermana, how're you holding up?" Chato asked, standing at the edge of her bed. Freya shrugged, the medication they gave her beginning to wear off.
"Good, I guess. Any word on Harley?" Freya asked, eyes wide. She knew that in the time she was in the 'hospital', the Squad, and Waller, were searching and hunting down leads for Harley. Everyone looked at each other quietly, before Chato shook his head.
"No, not yet." He said solemnly. Freya nodded slowly, staring down at the IV in her hand.
"At least you'll get a sick scar." Digger joked, trying to lighten the mood. Freya cracked a smile.
"Better than anything you got, yatsu." Freya snarked back. Digger blinked at her in confusion, but Katana snickered from the back of the room, recognizing the Japanese.
"Once you get back on your feet, we can start running down some more leads. We'll find her one way or another, Freya." Rick said, smiling at her comfortingly. But Freya couldn't help but feel like something was fundamentally wrong. There was this gnawing feeling, that maybe, Harley wasn't going to want to come back.
–•–•–
It was a month before Freya was deemed well enough to go back on the Squad. Her wound had almost completely healed, and as Digger had said, it left a pretty sick scar. It was no more than an inch long, and it certainly wasn't the first scar Freya had ever gotten, but this one hit home in a way that made her heart ache whenever she saw it.
Harley's empty, sad eyes haunted her whenever Freya closed her own eyes, and after a month without the energetic woman, everyone was feeling the effects of the hole she left behind. No one was mad at Harley; how could they have been, it wasn't her fault that she had been manipulated by the Joker. But when the topic of the clown himself came up, the anger and tension could be seen on everybody's faces. It wasn't until they were dragged from their cells and placed in front of very familiar black crates that Freya began to feel that itch under skin; the urge to kill. Despite what she would be like before, the only person on her hit-list this time, was the King of Gotham himself.
"After a month of tracking their movements, we finally pinpointed a location on Harley Quinn and The Joker. They're stationed at an old hospital a few miles out of Gotham. There's been some people moving in and out, suggesting that they're not alone." Rick addressed them, no longer having the strict, distrustful tone in his voice like he did two months earlier. "You know what to do. Suit up, we liftoff in 10."
Each member of the squad turned to their respective crates, opening them. Freya quickly pulled on her black jeans, a brand new pair since her other ones had gotten torn up. Like before, they fit tightly to her legs, but still made it easy for her to move. Pulling on the black shirt, with sleeves that went down to her elbows, Freya sighed. The shirt only reached down to her belly button, and part of the new scar peaked out from beneath the fabric. Frowning, Freya pulled on the familiar red leather jacket and looped the belt around her waist. Lacing up her boots, Waylon moved in front of her, looking down at her with a smirk on his face.
"Nice jacket." He said simply, and Freya snorted in amusement, raising an eyebrow at him.
"You don't look too bad yourself." Freya replies, making Waylon chuck lowly.
"Didn't think we'd be doing this again." Waylon said shortly, and Freya sighed, finishing lacing up her boots. Waylon held a hand out, and helped pull her to her feet.
"Neither did I, especially given the circumstances." She said, frowning. They stood in silence for a moment before Waylon patted her on the shoulder.
"If anyone can knock Joker on his ass, it's you, Freya." Freya smiled, shutting the lid of her crate, being sure to tuck the photo of her and Maya into her jacket pocket.
"Thanks, Waylon." Freya said sincerely. The pair walked towards the helicopter, Freya taking her seat between Waylon and Floyd. Leaning back against the wall behind her, Freya sighed.
"Alright, we have a long ride ahead of us. It's best to relax, and get prepared." Rick said, while everyone nodded. "We know our mission; extract Harley Quinn, and kill the Joker."
