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Chapter Text

Knight loved the Gotham sky, the clouded grey giving him a feeling of freedom, the memory of leaving that abandoned wing clear as day. Slade often complained about the state of the Gotham sky, saying it was polluted and dreary. To Knight, the only thing that mattered was that it was open.

When he'd escaped, aided by Harleen Isley-Quinzel (a woman he now called Ma), it took a long time to accept the idea that not one of them, not Harley, not Pam, not even Slade, none of them would hurt him. And maybe, seeing as his earliest memory was in the asylum, he might not fully adjust to being a person, but at least he had the Arkham Knight.

Jason, as Pamela Isley-Quinzel (Mom) had named him, was only a mask to hide behind, barely a human, something that dwelled below the surface, chained down to not strike any passing thoughts of the world around him.

Truly, he was Arkham Knight, the heavily armoured villain the Joker trained him to be - but with one exception: he didn't wish Batman dead. Hell, he didn't even know Batman outside of being told to "knock it off, Knight," whenever he got a bit too rough with whoever he was fighting. If anything, Batman seemed like quite a kind man.

Come to think of it, when he started going out as himself (without his Mothers knowing, mind you), Batman merely talked to him, calmly, carefully, as if he knew the boy in front of him was barely fourteen.

Which is why when, only a few weeks ago, he walked into the kitchen and saw Harley talking to a strange, neatly dressed, tall man, his mind when straight to Batman. His second thought was along the lines of "holy fuck there's a person in my house, I don't know him, I gotta go," which just lead to him walking into a wall in his attempt to leave the way he came.

"Woah, you okay there Jasey?" Harley asked, Kni- no, wait, he was playing Jason here - Jason shaking himself and moving to leave again through the actual doorway. She caught him pretty quickly, quickly checking him over as he blinked at her. "Jeez, kid, be careful, would'ya? Hungry? Bruce an' I were about to eat, I made extra, would'ya like to join us?"

Hesitantly, glancing from Harley to Bruce then back again, he nodded.

"Great, I'll go ask Pammy if she wants some," Harley chirped, walking out and leaving Jason with Bruce.

A moment of silence passed, as he tried not to look at the man.

"Jason, right? Harley speaks highly of you," the man spoke, ruining all of Jason's plans to not interact with him. Slowly, he nodded. "It's great to meet you, Jason, my name's Bruce."

Jason nodded and hummed in acknowledgement. At that moment, Harley and Pam walked in, much to his relief.

"Pasta's on me," Harley announced triumphantly, even though the pasta was not ready yet.

Bruce was smiling, but something seemed off - Jason could swear that the man was staring at him, more specifically, the brand scar just under one of his eyes. Jason frowned, possibilities running through his head.

"What'd you say your last name was again?" He forced himself to say, voice quiet and hoarse - usually, the modulator in Knight's helmet would deepen and amplify his voice, making him easier to be heard and saving him having to repeat himself, but alas, Jason didn't have a helmet.

"Hmm? What was that?"

"Your name, what is it?" He asked again, ever so slightly louder than last time, as he leaned towards Bruce ever so slightly to give the middle aged man a better chance to hear him.

"My name?" Bruce repeated. Jason nodded. "Bruce Wayne. Why?"

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

Batman was in his house. What if he knew? No, he couldn't, nothing he did as himself lead to Jason, except not always talking much and not being very tall, but the modulator in his helmet gave him more confidence, thus he spoke more as Knight, and the sheer bulk of his armour and the height his boots gave him put him up a good two to four inches.

"Ah," Pam realized. "Sorry about that, Bruce, Jason's a little genius and figured your big secret out a while back."

(The truth was that Harley told him as soon as she found out that he was going out at night, something along the lines of "bat-mail" as she called it. Blackmail, maybe?)

"No worries, Pamela. Robin figured me out himself only a few months ago," he had said, and Knight had filed that away, noting to look up any new additions to the Wayne family.

A few weeks on, and Knight finally found proof that Timothy Drake, the Waynes' next door neighbour, had been spending a lot of time at Wayne manor recently. A quick comparison made it obvious that Timothy and (the new) Robin were one and the same.

Good, more bat-mail, he thought, the strangeness of the term "bat-mail" endearing itself to him.

"Hey Knight," Tim, as Robin, greeted, dropping down next to the known villain. Well, "villain" was a strong term, one given to him by the GCPD, but at this point he knew he was far from a hero. "What's up?"

"Nothing really," he allowed himself to say, the modulator helpfully disguising the accent he had. "And you?"

"Also nothing. Pretty slow night, isn't it?"

"Better than an Arkham breakout," he responded easily. Robin was easy to talk to, Knight found, such an easy going kid. The more he thought about it, recalling that the Drake parents were almost never home, Timothy probably had about the same level of social skill that Knight did.

"God, don't jinx it," Robin mock threatened, nudging at one of his paudrons. "But hey, good news: between you and me, Batman wants you to join the team, he'll probably give you access to our comms soon."

Under his helmet, Knight frowned, looking up to the night sky.

"Batman wants me on his team?" He asked incredulously. Robin nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, I heard him!"

The Arkham Knight snorted.

"Yeah, right, that's a great idea," he remarked, sarcasm clear even with the voice modulator. "No offence kid but I don't exactly trust myself around Batman."

Robin frowned.

"Why not?"

Jason sighed, sitting up. The two vigilantes sat on a rooftop, overlooking Gotham, sitting at the edge with their legs hanging over the ledge. It really was a beautiful sight, he thought, even if almost no one would agree with him.

"Don't tell anyone this, but a few years back, someone really wanted Batman dead and they wanted me to do it," he started to explain, purposefully giving minimal information. "Obviously, not exactly something I'm about to do anytime soon, seeing as I would have done it already, but sometimes I'll get that intrusive thought, just do it, it'd be so easy, just take the shot, go on-" he took a breath, steadying himself, wondering when he'd started shaking. "So it's easier to avoid him most of the time."

He was sure Robin was giving him puppy eyes under the domino.

He sighed.

"I'll think about it."

Robin cheered.

"Thanks AK!"

Chapter Text

He remembered the night that his mothers found out about Arkham Knight far too well, a guilty memory he just wanted to forget, to ignore the image of how he cowered, thinking Harley would hurt him as she lectured.

He'd been helping Batman, having been caught by the man stopping a mugging with what the Bat called a tad too much force, when Batman stopped, an earpiece tucked under his cowl telling him about a bank robbery pulled off by Two Face... and aided by Harley Quinn, though Knight didn't know that tiny piece of information at the time.

"You want to help people?" Batman asked, to which Knight shrugged, having no idea what he wanted to do with himself. Batman laughed, though not a `what a stupid idiot that I hate` laugh, more of a `what a strange critter` laugh. "Come on, I'd appreciate your help."

Knight had perked up a bit, "really? My help?"

"Of course, come on, I'll tell you about it on the way."

So being the fourteen year old he was, eager to get Batman off his back, he tagged along, maybe hoping to prove that he wasn't all bad and that the Bat could trust him to not outright kill people, even if it was particularly tempting for some of the pieces of shit he fought.

And it went smoothly at first, with Batman descending onto Two Face, while Knight immobilised some of his henchmen, until Harley burst in, promptly knocking Batman out and rounding on the Knight.

Desperate for his Ma to not know this side of him, however true it was, he tried to fight back, holding his own for a decent amount of time before a bullet went whizzing past his helmet, clipping the side of it, the base of one of the ear like antennae. Shocked that he hadn't noticed Two Face get up and draw his pistol, Knight froze for a second too long, the exact amount of time for Harley to knock his feet out from under him.

He landed heavily, with a loud thud. He gasped, seeing the giant hammer coming toward him, and doing the only thing he could think of, he hurriedly raised his faceplate and braced, hoping she'd recognize her own son in time. When the impact never came, he cracked an eye open. Harvey was unconscious, and Ma had tears in her eyes.

"Jase?"

"I'm sorry, Ma-"

"Don't. We are going home, now."

The tone in her voice hurt, the way her voice cracked on home. With his head low, Knight followed close behind her. The few times he tried to speak, she cut him off, saying to wait until they got back.

By the time they did eventually get home, Mom was waiting in the living room, worry evident on her green face.

"Harley, thank God, Jason isn't in-" she cut herself off when she saw Knight. "Jay?"

"Pam, we need talk, right now," Harley spoke, her voice painfully icy. "Jason, sit down."

Obediently, hoping not to make his current situation any worse, he sat on the edge of the nearest chair. By now, he had his helmet in his hands, holding it against his stomach.

"I'm sorry," he tried to say again.

"Jason, stop apologisin', I just want to know what's goin' on," Harley told him.

He went quiet, looking right down. After a moment, he shrugged.

"You don't know... what do you mean you don't know?"

"Harley, calm down please, you'll only make both of you more stressed than you already are," Pam said, a hand resting on Harley's shoulder. Harley nodded.

"You're right, Pammy."

Ma took a step back, taking a breath. Mom took over.

"Jase, we're not mad, I promise," she told him, crouching down and clasping his gloved hands between her own, "but please, tell us what's going on?'

Jason couldn't meet her eyes, his head directed straight down. Slowly, a tear dragged down his face, falling and landing on the back of Pam's hand.

Pam exchanged a glance with Harley.

"Okay, let's try to simplify this - who is the Arkham Knight to you, your words, no judgement from us, how does the Knight relate to Jason?"

He opened his mouth, and for a moment the only sound that came out was a low croak, before he forced himself to speak actual words.

"Arkham Knight... AK is the real person, and Jason is the mask I hide behind," he admitted. "Jason is a role in a play that I'm not allowed to drop, because people only like the part I play and not..."

"The real you," Pam filled in. "I think I understand."

"Would you rather us call you AK right now?"

He allowed himself to give a shakey nod.

"Okay. So you're AK, and Jason is someone you feel like you have to be, did we make you feel this way?" Harley asked next.

He shrugged.

"A bit... sometimes it's hard to pretend," he told them.

"We're so sorry, AK, can we hug you?"

Feeling the tears well up in his eyes, threatening to break loose, he nodded, his voice cracking as he said, "please."

Harley and Pam pulled him into a big hug, not caring about his armour, and as he cried, clinging to his Mothers, he felt safe.

Chapter Text

Knight, as Jason, huffed.

"You sure I couldn't've just stayed home?"

Harley glared at him.

"After your accident? No way."

He'd been shot recently, having taken a bullet for Robin during a drug bust Batman had invited him to. Poor Tim didn't even notice the gun aimed at his spine, so Arkham Knight moved quickly, intercepting the bullet with his shoulder, pinging the layered paudron off his armour and onto the stone floor with a clunk.

He didn't even whimper, silently drawing one of his own guns and returning the favour - Batman had yelled at Robin to get him out of there, but Knight was impressively stubborn and stayed to see the operation through.

He'd been scolded by Batman afterwards, told how stupid that was, but Knight knew all that, knew the risks, knew why he did it - he couldn't even feel the wound. Batman, the bastard, had the audacity to try to take Knight with him, only for Knight to throw down a smokebomb, leave, and call his Ma.

He'd gotten another lecture from his Mothers after that, and now they didn't want to leave him alone for even a few hours as he recovered (although admittedly quickly).

A month ago, Harley had gotten a job at Wayne Enterprises, some high up position that had her attend meetings with Bruce sometimes and even have her own office. It wasn't uncommon for Jason to tag along if he felt particularly clingy, even having an employee ID of his own.

"Yeah, yeah, afraid I'll get myself killed tryin' t'cook dinner," he grumbled, stepping into the elevator with her. He stood a bit closer to her as the doors slid closed and the box began to rise.

"No, of course not, but I do want to keep an eye on you."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not that much of a wreck," he protested, "I'm nothin' compared to that Robin with the short shorts."

"God, don't remind me a' little Kidnappin's Georg."

"What?"

"Y'know Spiders Georg?"

"Oh. Oh. You suck."

"You love me."

"I'd genuinely prefer cleaning up after Bud and Lou after a night of diarrhea."

"No you don't."

"Yes I do."

The doors opened and he stepped out as fast as he could, irrationally afraid the doors will close on him. Harley laughed.

"Whatever you say, Jasey," she teased, scruffing up his already messy hair as she passed him. "Oh, good mornin' Mr. Wayne."

There he was, Bruce Wayne, waiting in Ma's office, with little Tim Drake hanging behind him, almost as lost of a puppy as Jason the second he saw Bruce, retreating behind Harley warily.

"Good morning, Harley, no need to be so formal," he returned, shaking her hand. "And hello Jason."

He moved further away from Bruce, not trusting the smile on his face. It quickly became strained, and the billionaire turned back to Ma, changing the subject to business.

It was then that he realized that Timothy was staring at him. He raised a hand to his face, checking his scar, then remembering the face mask he was wearing. Feeling relieved that it wasn't the brand being stared at, and that it was probably because either the mask or the fact that he was also a teenager with his parent.

Jason narrowed his eyes at the kid.

"Shouldn't you be in school, shrimp?" He asked, ignoring that Tim was barely taller than him - but in his defense, at least he had muscle, meanwhile Tim is no wider than a twig.

"Shouldn't you?" The kid countered.

"I asked first, numb nuts," he grumbled, crossing his arms, making sure he didn't fold them too high across his chest like he did as the Arkham Knight.

"Jase," Ma warned, shooting him an amused glance.

"Tim, don't stare," Bruce added. "And you may be out of school today but that doesn't mean you can do nothing, at least open one of your assignments."

"You too, sweetheart. Hey, how about youse two stay here an' me an' Bruce'll speak in his office, yeah?"

"Wh-"

"Sounds wonderful, Harley," Bruce agreed, like a bastard. "Have fun, you two."

They were gone before Jason could quite process everything.

"Oh, I see," he grumbled, having caught the look on Ma's face as she left. She wanted him to socialise like a regular person, who didn't genuinely have an easier time by being a faceless vigilante, if vigilante was even the right word - he was just kind of there, following his own whimsy, and sometimes that meant fighting alongside Batman, other times against him, which proved that he could absolutely kick Bruce's ass if he needed to.

"See what?" Tim asked, oblivious.

"Don't worry 'bout it, shrimp," Jason grumbled, making his way to his preferred corner, a warm space that gave him a good view of the doors (especially that stupid glass one with the sign on it warning that there was, in fact, a door there. It's a dumb design choice and he vowed to die mad about it after walking into it one particularly bad day). Reaching his normal spot, he slumped down, tugging the old laptop out of his bag.

He glanced up, meeting Tim's eyes.

"What?"

"I, uh, sorry, I've just seen you around here before and I thought you were cool. So, uh... hi?"

Jason looked between the glass door and Tim, eyes flicking between them awkwardly.

"Oookay?" He was slightly surprised with how low his voice went on that "O".

Did that mean he saw him walk into that fucking door? Damn it, if Robin ever finds out that Jason is just the Arkham Knight's little I'm normal uwu act then he'll never hear the end of it. Though that is a pretty big if, he'd been going pretty good on his track of not having his identity revealed.

Between looking down to key in his password and looking back up, Tim had sat down a few feet away from him.

"What school do you go to?"

"Don't go, technically. I do online school," Jason mumbled, checking his emails to see what his teachers sent him for the day. Typically, he'd finish yesterday's assignments, listen to the lectures with headphones on (but never alone, he wouldn't allow himself to be that vulnerable ever again), and then start that day's assignments.

"Oh? What's that like? Does it ever get lonely?"

Jason raised an eyebrow at the kid.

"Y'ever consider that I don't go in person for a reason?"

"You're self conscious?" Tim guessed, an actual earnest guess - an absurd guess, but it actually drew a laugh from Jason's lungs.

"Hey, for a good reason, I'm the ugliest person you'll ever meet," he replied, feeling a smile begin under his face mask. "Like, children cryin', elderly people prayin', sort of stuff."

Tim scoffed.

"No way," he denied, saying it in such a way that Jason snorted.

"Yeah, well, if I went in person, everyone'd run away screamin', so I don't. Seriously though, I'm really bad with people, can't handle the stress of that sort of stuff. 'Sides, not all that interested in havin' friends or anythin', we have hyenas, people are not better than hyenas."

Damn kid, so easy to talk to.

"So it's true?"

"What's true?"

"That she's really Harley Quinn!"

Jason rolled his eyes fondly.

"Jeez, she wears a suit and keeps her hair down and suddenly no one recognises her," he laughed to himself.

"Does that mean Poison Ivy is your other Mom?"

Okay, this kid absolutely did his research on Jason, clearly already very aware of his two mothers, but hopefully not his status as the Knight. It really seemed like he was making sure he wouldn't slip up, like he was normal.

That's fine, he reasoned, Jason could play along.

"Yeah, she's really chill actually, just cares a lot," Jason confirmed, because it was a well known fact in Gotham that Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy have long been married - he would know, he'd been there. He still smiled at the memory of Bud and Lou delivering the wedding bands to them.

"Honestly, can't blame her, we need to treat the Earth way better than we do," Tim hummed.

"Oh, absolutely. She's only gone after politicians and big polutin' companies and their CEOs for years. She gets a lot of unfair anger her way, it sucks."

"Damn... what's it like?"

"What, having two mothers or havin' infamous rogues for parents?"

"Well, I mean, I don't know what it's like to have two moms, but I meant that your moms are literally Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy."

"Oh, well..."

So neither of them got any work done that day at WE. Jason learned that Tim was getting really stressed with school, that he was a nerd about photography, and that having Bruce Wayne for a dad must suck balls.

He'd confined himself to his room when he got home, curling up on his bed with the laptop - Bud letting himself in and hopping up for a cuddle as he usually did, leaning up against Jason's side and tucking himself under one of his arms.

There was a scuffing noise and Lou was pushing his way in next, jumping up onto Bud, annoying him for a second, then rounding and sitting at Jason's other side.

He laughed, running his hands along their mohawk manes.

"You had a good day, huh?" Ma asked, leaning in the doorway.

"I guess, can't get much done today. Tim's such a little weirdo."

"Just like 'e is as Robin?"

"Almost, he's tryin' to hide that he's Robin, but I don't get how he an' Bruce'r foolin' anyone," he remarked. "I want to study them both under a microscope."

Ma was laughing, "funny, that's what Pam said."

Jason tried to laugh along, he really did, but Bud nosed at his hand and he relented, sighing and burying his face into Bud's fur.

"AK?"

He looked up.

"Sorry, I feel like I can't focus, I keep thinkin' about if Robin'd be okay if I didn't take that bullet for him. I know you won't let me go out at the moment, but I want to track him down an' check up on him. 'S'not like I can ask him as he's Tim."

Harley pursed her lips, crossing her arms in thought.

"Tell you what, put your suit on, an' I'll call Bruce sayin' I ran into you, an' I'll ask 'im to come talk you into goin' home or somethin', then you can ask about Robin?"

AK's eyes lit up.

"You will?"

"I could, though Bruce might try to check your wound. Though I suppose I could tell 'im Pam'd already checked? I dunno, we'll think more of it overnight and we can head out tomorrow."

"Thanks Ma, I love you."

"I love you too, maybe give schoolwork a day off, huh? Get your head back in place and try again later."

Chapter Text

Harley's life had been dark, trapped by the Joker, brainwashed into thinking he loved her. Back then, the idea of leaving felt strange and wrong, why should she leave, Mister J has always been good to her after all.

In the end, leaving wasn't just about her. Joker had come to her that day, coaxing her into the abandoned wing of Arkham, telling her he had a suprise for her, for them. She'd believed him, let him blindfold her and lead her down.

"You can look now," he had told her, his voice a few decibels above a whisper. She took off the blindfold and screamed, laying eyes on the bloody child he'd chained to a wheelchair with barbed wire.

"Puddin'," she'd asked sheepishly, "what is this?"

"Well, I was thinkin' every family deserves a pet."

"This... this is a kid."

Joker's expression turned sour.

"What? You don't like it?"

Lamely, the tortured child raised their head, as if doing so took all their energy, and for just a moment, Harley saw the pleading look in their half open eye, the other swollen shut. White lines scrawled across their lips and over their many times broken nose, and as she glanced across their face, they mouthed, "help me," before losing the little bit of energy they had left and dropping their head again.

"This is horrible," she forced herself to say, "what the fuck?"

Joker just laughed, taunting, haunting, it scared her.

"Oh, but you haven't even seen the best part! Junior, do papa a favour and show your mother my gift?" When the kid didn't have the strength to lift their head, Joker grabbed them by their raven hair, taking a chunk into his fist and tugging, pulling his head up. The kid didn't even look like the inevitable pain didn't register, and she could see why.

Under his left eye, the letter J was branded, the capital letter burned on, with an interesting look to it that made Harley think it had been cut open. Surprisingly, it looked like the scar was being taken care of in the very least, but maybe Joker didn't want them to die of some sort of infection or something.

"That's sick," Harley spat, "and not in the good way."

"Tt, you women, so picky. I went out of my way to prime this gift, for years I struggled with training him, yet here you are, judging my efforts. You're so ungrateful, Harley, not this one though, hell, I can break his ankle and he'll thank me!"

Which he then went on to demonstrate, the act beyond horrific, and with how easy it was for Joker to do, it indicated this poor kid had his leg broken multiple times. He barely whimpered, gritted his teeth a little, and a tear dripped down his face.

"What do we say?"

"T-thank you, sir," the kid choked out, biting back a sob.

"That's more like it. Honestly, Harley, you could learn a thing or two from my little sidekick here."

"You're disgusting."

"Ah, ah, ah, watch your tongue, Harley, you know what I'm capable of," Joker teased, wagging his finger.

Harley saw red, rearing back and raking her fist across his face, faster than he could register the betrayal. Yanking her giant mallet from where she'd leaned it on the doorway, she continued forward, hitting him in the chest and sending him flying.

She turned to the kid, pulling out a knife and cutting away the barbed wire. Quietly, he moaned in pain, to which she gently shushed him. As the wire fell away, she was able to hoist him up. He hissed at the sudden jolting, more hot tears steaming down his torn face.

"It's okay kid," she whispered, balancing him carefully on one arm so she still had access to her hammer. Joker never stayed down for long, she'd learned that a long time ago.

It was slow work as he limped heavily, even with her aid. They were going slower than she'd've liked, and she was praying that Joker was on the more injured side of things. She didn't exactly hit him nicely, she was aiming to hurt him. Come to think of it, was she trying to kill him?

She should turn back, maybe he'd forgive her- no, focus on the child. Rounding another corner, she was face to chestplate with a large man, donned in orange and dark blue, Deathstroke was blocking her path.

"Whatever he's paying you, I'll double it," she practically cried, and in an uncharacteristic move, Slade's one eye shifted to look at the barely conscious kid, a glint of sadness appearing for a moment.

"No need," he growled, taking the kid from her in a bridal carry. "I have a car outside, and I know a clinic in Gotham that doesn't ask many questions. Let's go."

Questions were racing through Harley's mind, but she didn't have the time to ask them. Instead, she nodded firmly.

"Lead the way."

The next few hours passed before she could even notice, and soon she found herself sitting with Deathstroke the Terminator and waiting anxiously. She'd called Ivy a minute ago, explaining everything, and her best friend was rushing over.

"God," Slade muttered, breaking the silence between them, "I knew he's a monster, but I never imagined he'd do that."

"I should've seen it comin'," she murmured. "I should've stopped it before it could've had the chance to happen."

Slade shook his head.

"I doubt there's anything you could've done."

Leslie walked into the room at the same time Ivy busted the front door open.

"Harley!"

Before she knew it, she was being hugged by her friend, who was also hurriedly checking her over for any injuries.

"I'm okay, Pam," she promised. "I just don't know about the kid."

They all turned their gazes to Leslie, who cleared her throat.

"He's stable for now, I've put his ankle in a cast, cleaned up his wounds, and done a simple checkover, but he must be taken to a hospital. I understand you two specifically coming here first, but there's only so much I can do. He needs to go to the hospital, and with the state he's in, I'd prefer sooner rather than later. The Joker did this to him, didn't he?"

Numbly, they all nodded.

Leslie hummed.

"It makes sense with some of his injuries. I'll organise transport now."

"Can we see him?" Harley asked. Leslie sighed.

"I'll allow you to go in for a few minutes to keep him company."

"Thank you, Doc."

Adventuring into the next room, she located the bed the kid lay on, and settled herself on the chair next to it.

His greyed eye cracked open, and a ghost of a smile hinted in his features.

"Thank you Moma."

He faded away almost immediately after, falling into a deep sleep that he so desperately needed, and looking down at his damaged skin, his tiny face so young and scared, her heart ached for him.

"No problem, baby, I'll look after you, I promise."

Almost a week later, and Harley got the call that he'd woken up. She and Pam arrived to the hospital not long after, Harley racing ahead and bursting into the room he was in.

A few nurses were fussing over the kid, making sure he was okay. When he noticed her, he smiled, waving weakly.

"Don't try to speak, dear," one of the older nurses admonished as he tried to croak something to her. He frowned, reaching for the whiteboard next to the bed. Messily, quickly, he scrawled out two letters.

"Hi"

Harley smiled, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

"Hello, I'm glad you're doin' okay, I was real worried for a minute. What's your name, kid?"

He pursed his lips and shrugged, then winced.

"I dont think I have that"

"You don't have a name, sweetheart?" Pam asked, clutching Harley's hand and giving it a reassuringly squeeze.

"Mh mh." He shook his head as he hummed a negative.

"We should probably introduce ourselves, I'm Harley, and this is my -" maybe girl "-friend Pamela, and we'll be looking after you, should things work out of course. When you're feeling better, you'll hopefully come home with us. Is that okay?"

"I get a choice??"

"Of course. Now, about that name, any thoughts?"

The day Jason came home was a difficult one, but Harley wouldn't have it any other way. It was also that day that Jason opened up about the Joker.

"He took all my teeth once, though when the second set grew in he just moved on to tearing out my nails," he whispered, as she and Bud were leaving his room.

"What?"

"Joker. I think he had me down there for as long as I can remember." He then veered off of that conversation path, "Gotham's pretty, I like it here."

"It's not the nicest place in the world."

"Better without Joker," he said with a shrug, and in that moment, Harley made up her mind. Joker was going to die by her hands.

"It will be," she vowed, leaning her forehead against his. "If you need anything, call Pam, I have to go out for a small while."

"Stay safe?"

"I will, I promise. I'll be back before you wake up in the morning, and in the mean time Pam will keep you safe, got it?"

"Got it. I love you Ma."

"I love you too, kiddo. Goodnight."