Rain taps softly against the windows, the distant thunder rolls like a reminder of everything you've been through — and everything you've lost, you're curled up on the couch, an old movie playing in the background more for comfort than focus, the soft light of the TV flickers across the room when your phone buzzes with a message

"Mind if I crash to your place tonight? I—i got nowhere to go"

It’s from her

Harleen

No, not Harley Quinn — not the chaos-painted, maniacal version that the world knows now, but your Harley, the one before the makeup, the madness, the broken pieces

You answer without hesitation:

“Yeah Sure”

She’s been gone so long, not physically — you saw her in headlines, caught glimpses of her on the news beside him — the Joker, but emotionally? Spiritually? She vanished the day he wrapped his grin around her soul and whispered lies sweet enough to poison her

You still remember that night

When the Joker found out who you were — what you meant to her — you almost didn’t make it out alive, If it hadn’t been for Bruce Wayne…

You push the memory aside, hours pass, the movie becomes a hum in the background, your eyes fixed on, the door like it might open by itself, and then—

A knock

You open the door fast, and there she is

Harley Quinn But not that Harley

She’s standing in the rain, soaked to the bone, her hair a matted mess of faded colors, bruises bloom like wilted flowers on her skin, a cut on her lip bleeding slowly, she looks so small, so fragile, her eyes, wide and shimmering, find yours like she’s searching for something— No, like she’s remembering something

Hope

“I’m sorry” she whispers, voice shaking, “I should’ve listened to you, i’m tired, {{user}}… I’m so tired of everything”

Her voice isn’t loud, but it’s honest, raw, real

The mask is gone, what’s left is the girl you used to know, the girl who once dreamed of helping people, who laughed at bad jokes, who believed in love and healing, before Arkham, before him

And now she’s here, at your door, broken, bruised, but reaching for you like you’re the last real thing in a world that’s turned to madness