Contacts

I'm gone

Harley hummed as she walked down the streets. She'd been living comfortably with Dick for about five months, and had found a job as a psychiatrist at a local office. Life couldn't be better.

Except for one thing. Dick kept getting death threats. He brushed it off, saying it comes with being a billionaire's son. But Harley had recognized the hand writing. This was the Joker, and she tried to tell him that, but he ignored it. He didn't want to admit it, but he was scared. Harley could see through his brave facade.

She put her keys in the door and twisted them, still humming. "Hey, Dickie! I'm home!" Harley called out as she put her purse on the coat rack. "Hello, Harley. Now that you're here, we can finally talk."

Harley snapped around, knowing that voice all too well. Joker sat on the couch, with Dick no where in sight. "What did you do ta him?" Harley growled. "Well, I noticed how tired Birdie looked, so I helped him sleep. He really is adorable."

She edged closer, fists up in a defensive position. Dick was on his stomach unconscious, Joker's foot holding his chest down. Harley could see at least one broken bone, and had no idea what other injuries he might have.

"Sit down, Harls! We're just talking." "Dick ain't talking." "He's sleeping." "He's unconscious, and injured. What do you want?" Harley had a small snarl on her face.

Joker turned towards her, relaxed. "I want you back." "Oh, please. Ya just want me back so ya can kick me around like a dog." "Come on, Harls! No one understands me like you do." "And I understand ya a little better, now that I'm gone. You're a manipulative, abusive bastard who never cared for me. Dick cared for me. He gave me a bed. A bed, Joker. With ya, I slept on the floor or the couch. He's shown me kindness I ain't seen since I joined ya. I've got a job, and I've got someone who shows me he cares. Until you can match that, I ain't going near your hideouts."

She pulled a couple of knives out. "Now get off of him, and get outta my home." For the first time in years, Joker's confident smile faltered. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to have come in and swept her off her feet before bringing her back to Gotham.

Joker stood up and growled, his foot still on Dick. "There's no running from your past, Harley. One day, I'll get you back." "You'll be getting my body, cause there ain't no way in hell I'm going back willingly. Now. Get. Out." Harley's voice was ice cold.

"Or what?" "Or I will not hesitate to impale ya with these knives. I promised him I wouldn't kill, but I sure as hell can maim ya. Now get out." Joker sighed. "I will have you back someday." "And that day ain't today."

Joker pressed down on Dick's back one time before walking out the door. As soon as he was gone, Harley ran over to Dick, who was trying to get up. "Stay down. He hurt ya bad." She gently pushed Dick down and turned him onto his back.

Dick hissed in pain as his injuries were moved. His left arm was killing him. He opened his eyes carefully as Harley put her hand under his head. "Hey, look at me. He's gone, and he ain't gonna hurt ya. But I need ya to stand up. I ain't strong enough to lug ya to the couch." Dick took a couple of deep breaths and pushed himself up.

It was a difficult process. It felt like Dick's arm was going to give out on him at any second. Harley put one hand on his back and gently grabbed his uninjured arm before helping him stand. He almost lost balance and fell again, but Harley held him up.

Dick was gently laid on the couch, head resting against the arm rest. He groaned and grabbed his chest as his ribs started throbbing. "Hello, 911? Yeah, my roommate, he's hurt bad. We had a home invasion...No, I'm fine...I was at work when it happened...Looks like a broken arm and a few ribs...He's on the couch, he's in a lot of pain...Yeah, our apartment on fifth...Thank you." Harley sighed. "Ambulance is on its way. Just stay awake, Dickie."

Dick fought to stay awake. The pain, which he'd felt so many times before, seemed to be multiplied, and his mind wanted to escape it. However, Harley's plea for him to remain awake was enough for him. He couldn't let her down. She'd been through that enough.

By the time the paramedics arrived, Dick was closer to passing out. They moved him to a stretcher, and started working immediately. He didn't know what they were doing, as everything was processing slowly. Voices were slurred, and overlapped, making it harder to hear.

He yelled as they reset the bone in his arm. That much, he knew they were doing. Or, had done. Someone started petting his head as he tried to calm down. It was extremely blurry, but it looked a little like Harley. If Harley had six eyes and three ponytails.

His body couldn't handle the pain anymore, and he blacked out. He could still hear the voices, but one seemed louder. It was begging him to wake up. As much as he wanted, the tide of unconsciousness was too strong. It had him under in seconds. He sank into the waves, a silent apology passing his lips.