From her eyes || Poison Ivy

7:?

around 3 am

I woke up with very sore muscles, in a place I immediately didn't recognise as my cell. The place was dark, with one single barred window near the top of this tall room letting in some moonlight, enough for me to make out my hand and feet. They weren't chained, albeit they were still heavy and I could barely move them from the cold padded floor.

The presence of a new room with a metal door instead of my glass cell told me that I wasn't being moved somewhere else, I was in solitary. Punishment for my fighting I was sure, and the thought made me grin. It had been worth it to beat his light out even if he had been taunting me; the laughing as I did it however made me question myself. What if he'd left a mark on Harley and sent her crying to me so I would beat him up? Was I just a part in his sick masochistic plan? If so then gross, but I still felt better having attacked him.

My head was still fuzzy from the knockout drug they'd used. It was different from benzodiazepine which they'd used on me before, this one made my nose run and my skin grow numb. Or maybe that was just the serious lack of heat in this room.

I lay back down on the floor due to no bed being giving to me in this room, but that wasn't much different to my arrangements in my usual cell. Curling up into a fetal position I closed my eyes and hoped I could at least fall back asleep, continuing the however long I had already been unconscious since my attack. I was hoping it had occurred today but the soreness of my muscles from being kept in the same position for too long was telling me it was something closer to two days.

Maybe now it was December, the month of joy. Hmph, it always reminded me that I hated Christmas, dead trees plastered in every household and in every movie and store this side of the year.

I heard yells from the hallway outside my door and started forwards. These cries were quickly followed with gunshots, causing my brow to crease - what the hell was going on out there? How had someone managed to sneak guns into Arkham? As little as I'd remembered after my incarceration here, I'd remembered someone remarking the security here was more secure than even neighbouring institutes such as Blackgate Penitentiary. There were breakouts nearly every week at Blackgate but that was beside the point.

The yells fell silent before being replaced by signature laughter and my lip fully curled. The Joker causing mayhem of course. As much as I wanted to punch him again from what I'd just heard he was carrying a firearm, and I couldn't deny that he could shoot me pointblank between the eyes upon seeming me. With this I fell silent, hoping that though this cell was quite set out from the rest on Level 4, that he wouldn't realise I was in it.

My heart jumped unfamiliarly as there was a beeping as a keycard was held against the pressure pad on the outside of the door. There was a click and the door was unlocked. With the threat of grievous bodily harm committed by a sick clown grew stronger, I backed into a corner and formed a stance that would along me to spring into action as soon as that clown tried to come near me. I stood ready, watching as the door was thrown open and along with my mouth as I saw it was in fact little Dr Quinzel standing there.

"Harley?" I asked, lowering my stance and creasing my brow in confusion. "What are you-"

My answer was partly given in the form of the much taller Joker, slinking his arm around the doctor's waist to her delight. "Chop chop Pam, we haven't got all day." he mocked, grinning as Harley ate every bit of it up.

At my still confused face, Harley offered a hand. "I'm springin' ya." she explained, grinning. "Well we're both helping, but it was my idea and his execution."

The Joker's face stiffened. "Yeah and it'll be dear Pammy's execution if she doesn't stop gawking like a freshly caught fish." he warned, causing me to quickly take Harley's hand, albeit I passed it off as my own decision.