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Going back into her apartment, Harley saw Victor sitting on the couch, playing with James. She closed the door behind her and Victor turned around.
"Hey, Harls-- Oh. What happened to your face?" Victor asked.
"One of the patients threw a tantrum and I ended up getting hit with a metal tray," Harley lied.
"Wow, that's gotta hurt. I didn't know when you were gonna get home, so I ordered a pizza." Victor gestured to the slices of pizza that were still in the box.
"Good. I did not feel like making anything." Harley grabbed a slice and sat on the couch with Victor and James. "Do you need a ride home?"
"Nah. Sam's picking me up." The two sat on the couch, watching cartoons with the baby until they heard a knock.
Harley opened the door and Sam stood there. "Hey, Sam," Harley greeted.
"Hey. Is Victor ready?" Sam asked with a smile. Harley stepped to the side and Victor walked out with his bag.
"See you later, Harley," Victor said.
"Bye, boys," Harley said. VIctor and Sam walked away and Harley closed the door. Harley put James to sleep and walked to the bathroom to look at her face.
"Natalia hit me harder than I thought she would," she said, looking at her head.
Taking a shower, Harley stood under the warm water, letting her muscles relax.
Memories of her past began flooding her thoughts the longer she stayed in the shower, something that happened often. Her going to prison, her life in the Red Room, the abuse, the torture.
Instead of crying about it, Harley laughed, maniacally. She was trained not to cry or show any signs of weakness, so she laughed through her pain, even if it wasn't the right time.
She hated it, but it's been burned into her mind. A force of habit, if you will.
She stepped out of the shower, feeling a little better about her injuries.
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