Predator. Prey.

One Shot: Saved. (Part One)

Time Since Chemical Wedding: 412 days

Frame: Harley re-imprisoned after Suicide Squad

Warnings: Violence, smut

Everything was grey again. Grey walls, grey bars, grey cells.

The colors of the city and his eyes and skin were only figments of my imagination.

I was completely broken. I was dropped from the sky at a thousand miles an hour, and I watched him die.

'Mine.'

I was no longer his. I was on my own now.

I've forgotten what that means.

I know that it wasn't going to last forever. We weren't made to. He was destructive, burning through my soul, igniting a fuse inside me that raged throughout my entire body. That fuse was inching ever so closer to a nuclear bomb implanted in my heart. And eventually, it was doomed to implode. I was doomed to be shattered.

I was doomed from the start.

My icy white skin was heating the entire cell and yet I felt so cold and weak. My hair's colors were fading, fading into the chemically platinum hair I've grown to associate with him. Everything about me reminded me of him. Every tattoo, every inch of my flesh, every color. Everything was too intense when I was in his embrace, and now I can hardly feel anything at all.

He completely drained me of life. And now all I can feel is rage.

It begins as a slow simmer, pooling at my feet, bubbling with a lagging intensity. And then it builds, racing up my thighs, coating my stomach, and filling every crevice of my insides until flaming crimson and scarlet litter my vision and I am so overcome with anger I can barely move.

He saved me.

Why the fuck would he save me?

He knew I would rather die than be without him. I told him that so long ago. I was ready to live for him, and I was ready to die for him. I gave myself to him in every imaginable way and he knew this so fuck why would he abandon me? Why did I let myself fall this hard for him?

My breathing was erratic now as I stood up, pacing the small confines of my cell, begging for relief to the anger and the rage and the fury and the hurt that was excruciatingly strong.

He saved me.

And in doing so he has killed me.

Tears pooled at my eyes as I sat back down on my grey cot, as a voice inside me peered from under the shadows,

'You have people, now. People that care about you. You have friends.'

And she was right. I wasn't alone anymore. There was a glimmer of blue and purple amidst the red that was blinding my vision. They existed, and they helped me. I owe them.

Maybe there was redemption for my fucked up soul. Maybe one day I could learn to feel without him.

But today was not that day. Today was the day I let the rage, rage.

It took time to let the fire extinguish. It took days, weeks, and months to stop seeing his face every time I closed my eyes. There was pain, but not the pain he caused me. It was a numbing pain, one that dulls colors and seeps into your pores. It changes you, and it builds a wall around your soul.

That wall became indestructible. But I had people that cared about me. I had my toys, the security guards, and I could play with them and force a smile, and feign a laugh. I had distractions. I learned to build myself a mask, the one I had so desperately tried to break on him.

But now I get it.

Once you build a mask, it can never leave your face.

It's not indestructible.

It becomes who you are.

Days and nights blur, with intermittent moments of seeing my friends, or killing a guard, or playing a game.

Soon, I grew to be ok.

I grew to become someone strong.

She was fake, but she was strong.

She was changed.

And she was not alone.

The sky was dark and the floruesent lights were dimmed when I heard the rapid fire of gunshots enter the room to my cell.

A voice in my head screamed to duck and cover, and for once in my life, I listented to her.

Shutting my eyes, the commotion grew louder and louder, and I began to anticipate death. Someone was here to kill us all.

Did I want to die?

Before I could answer, I peeked my eyes open to see a black figure picking the lock of my cell with an electronic device. Confusion sweeped over me as I sat up and put my arms in the air, my mind buzzing with confusion.

Once the door opened, four black suited men that were surrounding the cell exited the room, and a single figure walked in, masked, and covered in black from head to toe.

With a single motion, there was a bag over my head, and my fighting was useless as I was carried out of my prison.

My thoughts were at a standstill. Was this a former enemy? Someone enraged at my actions? How the hell did they infiltrate Belle Reve, a place crawling with top notch security?

I felt a car door open, and I was thrown inside, kicking and fighting to no prevail.

The drive was short, but my eyes were tear stained, and eventually my limbs grew tired.

Fuck it. At least I was out of there.

After what felt like an infinity, the car stopped and I was carried out, by a pair of seemingly familiar strong arms. We entered a room, and immediately the smell of alcohol and cologne filled my nose.

A flash of green entered my vision; a color I hadn't seen in months.

Impossible.

It couldn't be.

The bag was lifted over my head, and my knees buckled when I saw his face, his eyes wide and crystal clear.

His strong arms held me up by my shoulders as I let out a cry, a cry of utter disbelief.

J was here.

He was alive.

And I was home.

"Puddin'."

He leaned in, without a second word, but I pulled back slightly, my eyebrows raised in disbelief as tears pooled at my feet,

"How are you...how are you here?"