There was a pep to Jason's step as he got ready to leave Gotham. It would seem as if things were finally going his way again. Soon he would have Harley back and everything would be perfect. He's even given thought into asking her to marry him for real. There was no one else he could ever wish to spend his life with. Everything started and ended at her. He vowed to show her a life that J never could. He'd treat her so good that she wouldn't be able to not fall in love with him.
Jason stands in the bathroom mirror combing back his wet hair. He bends over to snort some cocaine from the countertop. When he stands again he jumps almost out of his skin. In the mirror, peering back at him, was the boy he had once been. No green hair. No surgically altered face. No tattoos. Only Jason Todd. The way he was starting at him was seemed to show his displeasure over what he had done to himself. Jason's palm goes flat on the mirror as he tried to remember that face.
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A knock at the door breaks his train of thought. He crosses over to the door and answers it. It was one of his clowns. "Mr. Frost would like a word with you in the kitchen sir."u
Jason nods and makes his way to the kitchen. Frost sat at the bar watching Alfred put a cream filling into some pastries. "What is it?" Jason asks him.
"I need to know what to do with the butler. He coming with us? Or should I arrange for some clowns to look after him?" Frost enquires.
Jason approached Alfred and looked at him. His hand comes up and rests on Alfred's shoulder. "Al, you're free to go home." Alfred seems confused by this. Almost as if he thought Jason was lying. "Well don't just stand there. Go before I change my mind," Jason motions to the door.
"Very well sir," Alfred slightly nods. He glances at the pastries on the counter. Who would distribute that drug to him now? Alfred didn't stand around to give it a lot of thought. He was ready to leave that penthouse. He shutters to think of how awful things must look at Wayne Manor.
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Harley had refused to eat for six long days. She didn't care to live without her baby. Her, the baby, and her Mistah J were supposed to be a family. But the state had robbed them of the opportunity. All of her dreams had been shattered. Her Mistah J's too, only he didn't know it yet. After all the miscarriages, losing this baby would certainly devistate him.
In her mind she envisioned a double suicide for her and her Puddin. She pictured them meeting their makers from self inflicted bullet wounds to the brain or heart. She imagined them laying in blood with slit wrists. She visualized them overdosing. But in Belle Reve her options were seriously minimalized. A gun would only be possible if she fought a guard and took one from them. She had made a shank, but it wouldn't slice deeply enough to kill her before they rushed her to the infirmary to be stitched up. She couldn't bash in her own skull, she'd only knock herself out before it could be accomplished.
So the only option she could see was to starve herself to death. To slowly waste away until she simply was no more. But even that plan was sabotaged. When the guards caught on to her little plan they introvened. It took eight guards to get her shackled to a wheelchair. Five of which she sent to the hospital. The head guard, whose uniform only read Alpha, tried spooning food into her mouth. She spit it out, right into Mr. Alpha's face. He didn't like that. He tried holding her mouth shut. He tried pinching her nose. Harley still refused and managed to bite him.
