Chapter Text
Bruce sat at the Bat Computer late one evening, updating one of the many files he had saved to the system's extensive database. Each one was a treasure trove of information, each one detailing one of the various costumed criminals he'd encountered over the course of his extensive, seven year career as the Dark Knight. The file in question that lingered on screen belonged to Harleen Quinzel, otherwise known as Harley Quinn, one that he had had to open only a year or so prior.
The Joker had tried many things over the years to get the advantage over Batman, but none of his schemes were so devilishly evil as of the tragic case of Ms. Quinzel. Harleen was a new psychiatrist brought in fresh from college to Arkham Asylum, and had personally requested she work with the Joker after going over the various patient files. It was a challenge that even most seasoned of veterans couldn't so much as chip, let alone crack, but she was determined to prove them all wrong.
She was someone who had a very promising career ahead of her, and her first few sessions with the Joker showed promise. He opened up to her, revealing details about his past that were too vivid or that could be backed up with evidence...but she was eventually turned and manipulated by the Joker's promise of love and adventure, turning her from a slightly nervous but utterly dedicated woman to just another costumed criminal in a matter of weeks.
From the outside, Harley was just another henchman to the Joker, holding a position of power within his organization and helping to coordinate his various criminal activities through the city. But for those who knew better, she was nothing more than another pawn to the maniacal menace, as much a victim to his twisted ways as anyone he hurt. The Joker had his claws in her, and there was little to no chance that he was going to let such an easily manipulated pawn like her go.
Batman blamed himself for Harleen's turn; he knew that she meant well when she said she wanted to help the Joker, but he also should have known that the Joker would manipulate her ambition for his own sick, twisted needs. Having spent a lot of time with seasoned psychiatrists before she showed up had honed the Joker's ability to manipulate people with only his words, making him more deadly than if he had a gun. And it was with that silver tongue of his that he found just the right things to say to convince Harleen that she was wasting her talents trying to cure him...when instead she could be freeing him.
Ever since that day, Harleen had fallen into a pit of laughter and violence, helping to perpetuate the Clown Prince of Crime's sick and twisted vision for Gotham. She did so with a smile on her face and a spring in her step, but there was always a bit of sadness hidden behind her big, blue eyes. Batman felt that if he could just get her away from the Joker and his influence for long enough, there might be a chance that she could come back to reality...to a world not dominated by the smooth words and empty promises of a fast talking killer clown.
Bruce's train of thought was abruptly halted as Alfred entered the Batcave, the loyal Butler carrying a small tray of food that he silently placed before him.
"Another tussle with Ms. Quinzel, I take it, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked as he examined the bruise forming over his right eye.
"She managed to sneak up on me with that giant hammer of hers while I was busy analyzing a vat of what I can only assume is Joker's latest attempt at perfecting his Laughing Gas," Bruce stated as he finished typing his entry into her file. "She managed to slip away just before my ears stopped ringing."
"A shame she wasn't able to knock some sense into you with a hit like that," Alfred quipped as he headed back for the elevator. "Speaking of sense, make sure you get some sleep, Master Bruce. I believe it is safe to assume you did not forget that tomorrow you and Master Dick are helping the GCPD raid a supposed Joker storehouse?"
"I know, Alfred. Good night."
Alfred merely sighed as he pressed the elevator button to take him back up to the mansion. "Of course, sir. Sleep well."
Alfred stepped inside, and just as the doors were beginning to close, Batman called out to him. “Alfred...do you think some people are beyond saving?”
Alfred held open the elevator doors, taking a moment to ponder the question. “I don’t think anyone is beyond saving, sir...though I suppose it’s a matter of whether or not you think they’re worth saving. The Batman is meant to be a symbol of peace and justice, but even so he’s still only human...you can’t save everyone, Master Bruce...but with as much influence and power as you have, I would say it’s worth at least trying to save as many people as you can, no matter who they may be or what actions they may have taken.”
The elevator doors closed shortly thereafter, leaving Bruce to ponder Alfred’s words as he stared at the picture of a woman he once saw as a potential ally in his never ending quest for justice. Harleen's face stared back at him, covered in black, white and red face paint and twisted into a maniacal, mocking scowl. He closed the file with a heavy sigh, rubbing the bruise over his right eye as he began removing what was left of his armor and placing it in it's appropriate places.
Tomorrow wasn't going to be easy, he knew, but he had no idea just how much tomorrow was going to change the lives of everyone around him.
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The Gotham City Docks housed some of the largest storage warehouses that money could buy, containing all manner of products that would make their way in or out of the city. Despite the better efforts of the Wayne Enterprises Safe Shipping Initiative, which offered security systems to businesses looking to keep curious eyes and hands off their products, Batman did not have direct security access to many of the warehouses that littered the area.
Many warehouses were left abandoned due to old age, lack of repair or for monetary reasons, and vacant lots in run down parts of Gotham were like catnip to criminals. They were a prime target for small timers and the big players alike to house their own products within, including weapons, drugs, and more from the watchful eye of the Dark Knight. But sometimes they made it a bit too easy for him to figure out which ones weren't as abandoned as they appeared.
Batman kneeled at the edge of a roof across the street from one such supposedly abandoned warehouse, though abandoned warehouses rarely have guards posted all around them with semiautomatic rifles. He yawned as quietly as he could, though it still strained his jaw with how wide he opened his mouth. He hadn't slept much last night despite Alfred's warning, and he felt his eyes begin to grow heavy...when was the last time he'd really slept?
"I've got four on the southwest corner, Batman," Nightwing stated calmly in his ear, bringing Batman back from his momentary lapse. "But by the sounds of it there's another two coming out to join them."
"I've tagged six myself, but four of them just went inside," Batman responded, using the heads up display on his visor to digitally mark their locations. "Initial scans of the building show around another two dozen inside, including the biometric signatures of Joker and Harley."
"And you were worried this was going to be tough," Nightwing quipped. "We'll be back just in time to watch the rerun of Metropolis Tonight with a crew this small."
"Stay focused, Nightwing," Batman chastised him. "It only takes one bullet-"
"-to end someone's life, yeah I know. I'm focused and ready to go...just waiting for your signal."
Batman nodded to himself, reaching down into his utility belt to grab his grapnel gun before launching himself across the street. He landed elegantly on the roof of the warehouse, staring down at a pair of guards who were none the wiser to his presence.
"Remember, Nightwing. Shadow Tactics…" Batman whispered as he lowered himself down, preparing to engage his unassuming foes. "If they see us before we get inside, this whole operation is blown."
"Sure thing. Cutting comms now. See you inside, Bruce."
Batman rolled his eyes; he'd talked with Dick many times before about using their Hero names when talking over their communications network ever since Riddler had managed to hack into it. In person he was usually good at catching himself, but he still slipped up with enough regularity over the comms that Bruce thought it might be intentional. He had other things to focus on right now, however, such as the guards beneath him that would be much more useful if they weren't in his way.
While one was turned away, Batman rappelled down and grabbed the other, placing a hand over his mouth and pulling him into the air. He knocked him out with a quick jab to the face, strung him up and left him hanging, making sure that if the line he was hanging from was cut that he would land relatively safely. Once his friend turned back to find him gone, Batman dropped silently behind him, tapped him on the shoulder, and punched his lights out before he could so much as make a noise of confusion.
Batman examined the front of the warehouse, assuming the main entrances were likely booby trapped based on the wristbands that both guards had surgically grafted to their wrists. Rather than play amateur surgeon to try and remove one so he could walk through the front door, Batman opted for an air conditioning vent high up on the northern facing side of the building. A simple grapple up and he slipped inside, standing atop the upper level scaffolding as he surveyed the scene below.
The tip Batgirl had gotten off of one of Joker's crew a week prior had turned out to be correct, and that made things a whole lot worse. Hidden behind industrial shipping crates made to look like they were full of food for starving children overseas were several vats of the liquid state to Joker's Laughing Gas Batman had seen the day prior, only now in significantly larger quantities.
Working at the various vats or patrolling the area were the aforementioned two dozen henchmen, each with wristbands similar to the two Batman had just dealt with. They were busy mixing components into the vats or patrolling the area, none of them wise to Batman's view of their misdeeds as they joked and so spoke freely. And standing off to the side, delegating orders and watching everything unfold before him was the Joker, with Harley hanging off his shoulder like a lovestruck high schooler on Prom night.
The Joker's tall, lanky frame made him look more like a Vaudeville showman than a master criminal, but beneath the purple and green suit, a harsh tangle of green hair and his bleach white skin was a man so twisted with malice that all he could do was smile. Despite having fought with him for more than five years, Batman knew next to nothing about who he truly was, but all that mattered was stopping him from hurting anymore innocent people.
People like the woman hanging off his arm, for instance. When not in her getup, Harley was an attractive woman with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a figure befitting a former gymnast. But under the Joker's employ, she appeared as though she had stepped straight out of a playing card, bespoke in a red and black jumpsuit of alternating patterns and diamond accent shapes. Her face was covered by a shadow mask around her eyes and some face paint, and adorning her head was an old fashioned jester's cap that attached to and matched the jumpsuit beneath it.
Batman spotted Nightwing enter from an air vent on the opposite side of the warehouse, the young protector flashing him a signal to indicate the guards outside were strung up. Batman nodded towards the center of the rafters, Nightwing nodding back as he made his way carefully over.
"You there," The Joker called out in his shrill voice to one of his henchmen currently leaning a little too far over one of his vats. "The big, stupid looking one who either didn't or couldn't read the sign about bringing your own mask to work. How's about you take a sip so we can see just how potent Scarecrow's addition to the formula really is?!"
Jonathan Crane, aka the Scarecrow. A former professor of psychology who found sick thrills in exploiting the fears and phobias of those around him, going so far as to develop his own Fear Toxin that caused anyone who inhaled it to hallucinate about their worst fears. If he was working with the Joker, even in a limited capacity, it could spell doom for Gotham. They needed to act fast.
Batman stalked silently across the roof's support beams as he watched the henchman use his hands to drink some of the foul green fluid, only to then watch him convulse into a withering mess seconds later as he screamed about spiders covering his body. He did not have any spiders currently covering his body, but the liquid he'd just ingested made him feel like he did...and that was evidently not what the Joker had hoped would happen.
"No no no no NO !" The Joker whined as he ran his boney fingers through his hair. "He should be on the ground laughing about how the spiders are tickling him or something, not because he's afraid of them! We can't use this stuff now ! Where's the fun in that?!"
He released himself from Harley's hold on his arm, pacing back and forth as he stared at her accusingly. "How could you mess this up, Harley?! I gave you one very simple task, and somehow that was too much for you to handle?! You must have put too much of that stuff into the vat!"
"What the heck ya blaming me for?!" Harley retorted, sounding a little hurt by the Joker's words. "I did exactly what you and that creep in the burlap sack mask told me to do!"
"So you admit you're the guilty party then?!" Joker shouted, waving his hands in the air frantically. "Months of work down the drain because of you !"
"Man, couples squabbles are the worst, eh, Bruce?" Nightwing asked quietly next to Batman as Joker and Harley continued to yell at one another.
"They're distracted," Batman said calmly, ignoring Nightwing's attempt at humor. "Now's our chance."
Nightwing nodded, and in perfect synchronicity the pair leapt from the rafters, tossing several smoke pellets and scattering them all around the warehouse. In an instant, all the henchmen went from watching the Joker and Harley argue to being shrouded in smoke, looking around confused and alert, any of them who had the good sense to pull out a gun bringing them up and ready to use.
"Now look at what you've done, Harley!" Joker chastised her further, the sound of a hand striking her face echoing through the smoke. "You've brought the Bat into our little soiree before we've even had a chance to set the table!!"
"This ain't my fault, Puddin'!" Harley practically pleaded with him as she readied herself, anticipating another hit from either Joker or the newly entered assailants. "I promise I wasn't followed here or nothin', and I told you we shoulda moved these things a month ago!"
"We'll speak louder next time, then!" Joker whined as they began hearing henchmen fall. "I have it hard enough trying to fix your messes!"
Joker reaches around behind his back and pulled out an extended barrel pistol, his attention turning from Harley to the smoke clouds around him. The two listened as large men they had hired were easily dispatched of, their grunts of pain and the impact of the hits against them echoing from all directions.
Tired of the charade, Joke leveled his pistol towards the most recent gurgle, firing a shot into the smoke that impacted metal hoping to hit something a bit more flesh and blood.
"Careful, Joker!" Harley warned, Batman able to see her force Joker to lower the pistol through the infrared on his visor. "You hit one of those vats just wrong, and-"
"Unlike you, I know what I'm doing, woman!" Joker stated as he aimed the pistol once more, Batman calculating his aim towards the aforementioned vat. Batman had just enough time to leap out of the way as the Joker fired, his bullet piercing the metallic casing of one of the vats batteries, causing it to explode.
The sound of henchmen crying out in pain rang throughout the warehouse as fire and black smoke began to clear away Batman and Nightwing's own smoke based diversion. Shards of what was once a large fluid tank were now scattered around the warehouse, some of them embedded into the walls and ceiling, and some embedded into the now still bodies of Joker's henchmen. Batman quickly surveyed the scene to find the Joker, that ever present smile still scarring his face, staring him down with intent to kill. He also noticed that Harley was now nowhere to be seen, so he made sure to keep an ear out in case she has snuck around to flank him, but the Joker was a more pressing threat.
"Oh there you are, Bats!" Joker said as he leveled his pistol towards him, a little bit of blood trickling down the side of his face from a small piece of shrapnel that had hit his forehead. "Now be a good boy and hold still !"
Batman did not hold still, instead dodging out of the way just in time for the bullet to whizz past his head, striking another vat of Joker's Laughing Gas causing it to leak. As the fluid pooled below the exit hole, it came close to a nearby fire, the fluid igniting quickly as it coursed up through the bullet hole. Within seconds the vat was ignited and exploded, forcing Batman to leap out of the way to avoid serious damage. As he recovered, Batman whirled to find the Joker had used the shot as a distraction to escape, the Caped Crusader grunting in frustration.
"Damnit," Batman grumbled aloud to himself before putting a finger to his ear. "Nightwing, the Joker has escaped. I need you to focus on containment; Tell Jim to hurry, and get as many of Joker's henchmen tied up and out of here as you can. I'm going after Joker."
"On it!"
Batman pulled out his grapple gun and aimed it towards the ceiling, but something caught his attention before he could fire. Behind where the Joker had been was a large piece of the vat, a small fire dancing atop it where some residual Laughing Gas had caught fire. But what was underneath that was what gave Batman a moment of pause.
He couldn't see it before with all the chaos, but currently curled up underneath the large metal sheet, a large gash across her forehead that obscured her face in blood, was the unconscious body of Harley Quinn. A cursory glance with the x-ray scan of his visor showed Batman that she had a few fractured ribs, a broken leg and likely some internal bleeding and burn marks to go along with that gash, and he paused for a moment pondering what the best move was.
He had told Nightwing to handle containment while he went for the Joker, and if he could catch him then there was far less likely going to be issues for him down the road. But on the other hand, Harley was seriously hurt, her heart rate was critical, and she would likely not make it if they waited for an ambulance.
"Batman?" Nightwing stated as he ran over to him, one of the unconscious henchmen slung over his shoulders. "What's wrong? Joker's getting away!"
"Harley’s hurt," Batman stated decisively, replacing his grapnel gun on his utility belt. "I need to get her to a hospital immediately.”
"What?!" Nightwing blanched as he watched Batman slowly walk over towards her. "Batman, it's Harley Quinn. We should leave her for the police to-"
"There's not enough time for that!" Batman said sternly as he moved to get the large chunk of metal off of her. "She'll die if we don't do something now."
Nightwing hesitated as he noticed the fire beginning to spread. "Alright, Batman. I'll handle things here. Get her to Gotham General...it's the closest hospital, and I'll let Gordon know you're there with her."
Batman nodded solemnly. “Have Jim bring a biohazard team as well. Joker’s newest strain of Laughing Gas is highly flammable, and a regular fire team aren't going to cut it for this one."
Nightwing nodded, sparing one final glance towards Harley before he ran off to meet the approaching sirens. Batman kneeled down and carefully removed the metallic chunk off of Harley, examining her injuries before reaching into his utility belt. He applied an adhesive spray against the gash on her forehead to try and stop the bleeding and made a temporary splint using a pair of Batarangs for her leg, checking her over one last time before he picked her up into his arms. She was surprisingly light to carry, and as Batman made his way outside and she felt colder than the chilly night air, he knew he had to move quickly.
Using his grapnel gun to quickly cross the street, he found where he had parked the Batmobile and opened the passenger side door. He carefully laid Harley down in the seat, jostling her just enough for her to be shaken briefly from unconsciousness, her eyes glassing over as she tried to make sense of what was happening.
"Wh...what're ya...ya doin' to me, B-Man?" Harley managed to sluggishly say as Batman got into the driver's seat. "Ya takin' me….for ice cream or somethin'? Tha's sweet of you…"
"I'm saving your life," Batman stated bluntly as he shifted the Batmobile into gear, peeling out of the alleyway with great haste.
If Harley had a response to that, she wasn't able to share it with him as she slipped back into unconsciousness. Batman floored it with the Batmobile through the late night streets of Gotham, taking turns with reckless abandon and not caring for collateral damage, only caring that Harley wasn't jostled around too much. Thankfully this part of town was largely devoid of traffic this late at night, so Batman was able to make it to Gotham General in a matter of minutes without any major incidents to impede him.
He pulled up to the Urgent Care center's main entryway, a pair of doctors coming out with a stretcher to greet him as he opened the passenger side door. Both doctors looked at Batman suspiciously as he pulled Harley Quinn from the seat.
"She's sustained significant injury after a chemical explosion," Batman stated as he laid her down on the gurney. "Some broken bones and severe head trauma, among other things. I applied some temporary measures to try and stabilize her, but I’m afraid without immediate action-"
"We'll take care of her, Batman" the doctor on the right said plainly, examining her closely. "Though if I'm being honest, I'm not sure why you'd want us to...she's a criminal, after all…"
"She's still a person, Jack," the second doctor stated bluntly, smacking him on the arm for being rude before turning towards Batman. "I assume the police know you brought her here?"
Batman nodded. "Once they finish up down by the docks I'm sure some of them will be coming this way."
"Good," the second doctor stated as they began to wheel Harley into the building, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Last thing I need tonight is a super villain in my hospital waking up and causing a ruckus…"
"I'll stay to keep an eye on things," Batman stated as he followed close behind. “Make sure there’s no ruckus until the police arrive.”
“Well that’ll certainly keep the Chief of Medicine off my back, at least…”
Batman followed the doctor’s closely through several sets of double doors, pushing through them with careful yet hurried intent as they made their way to an operating room. At a certain point the doctor’s told Batman he’d have to wait there, the area off limits to anyone who wasn’t a medical professional, and he reluctantly left Harley in what he hoped would be capable hands. She was carted away into an operating room moments later, leaving Batman to find the nearest bench to sit at and wait for any news.
-------
Batman was gently nudged awake sometime later, the doctor looking a bit nervous as he shook the darkly dressed vigilante. “Mr., uh...Mr. Batman? Sorry, I wasn’t sure if you were asleep or...”
“Is Harley alright?” Batman asked, trying his best to not appear like he had dozed off. He cursed himself for not getting enough sleep the night prior, and made a mental note not to mention it to Alfred for fear of another lecture.
“She’s stable, but she’ll need to be here for a while and kept under surveillance...both to make sure she properly heals and...well…”
“I understand,” Batman stated, standing and following the doctor. They stopped just outside a room with a window, two police officers standing outside the door to the room, where through the glass they could see Harley asleep in a bed. Her head was wrapped in a bandage and her leg was elevated above her in a sling, and at some point the doctors had removed her makeup. She looked surprisingly peaceful...almost like her old self again.
“There is, of course, the matter of Ms. Quinzel’s medical expenses…” The doctor interjected into Batman’s thoughts. “I doubt The Joker has a particularly good health plan considering some of his goons I’ve treated over the past few years…”
“What about the Wayne Enterprises Reformation Medical Grant?” Batman asked, his gaze still focused on Harley. “Shouldn’t that cover any expenses?”
“Normally, yes,” the doctor said, flipping through the papers on his clipboard until he found the document in question. “Unfortunately that only applies to someone if they’re brought here from Blackgate or Arkham for medical treatment. She will most likely be headed for one or the other after she's had enough time to properly heal...but until then-”
“Put it on my personal tab,” Batman stated, handing the doctor a slip with the appropriate information. “Just see that she’s treated fairly…”
“If you don’t mind me asking, Batman,” the doctor began after a moment of silence. “Why go through all the trouble of helping her? From what I hear, she’s been nothing but a thorn in your side for sometime now…”
Batman stared at Harley’s even breathing for a few moments, contemplating his thoughts. “No one is beyond saving, doctor. It’s a matter of whether or not you think they’re worth saving.”
“And do you think even she’s worth saving?” the doctor asked, his inflection giving away his true feelings of how he felt about Harley.
Batman slowly turned towards the doctor, a soft smile on his face. “I do...and the least I owe to her is to try.”
The doctor stared up at Batman for a moment before placing a hand on his arm. “Well...you’re of a stronger will than me. We’ll see to it that she’s treated well enough while she's here, assuming she cooperates with us ...in the meantime, Jim Gordon is downstairs waiting for you. I told him you’d be down shortly to speak with him about what happened tonight.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Batman said as he chanced one last look towards Harley. She was smiling in her sleep, leading Batman to think she was having a pleasant dream, something he took as a sign of good times ahead. “I’ll be back soon to check in on her.”
With that, Batman made his way down to the lobby of the hospital where Jim was waiting, leaving Harley to dream.