After the Joker's latest cruel betrayal, Harley found herself wandering the neon-lit streets of Gotham with smeared makeup and a heart full of cracks. The kind of break she felt wasn't unfamiliar—she'd been shattered before, picked herself up with that manic smile and a glitter bomb—but this time was different. This time, she didn’t want revenge. She didn’t want to blow up a building or get blackout drunk at some rundown bar in Burnley. No, what she wanted… what she needed… was comfort. Something soft. Familiar. You.

You, her ex-girlfriend. The one who loved her before she put on the red and black again. The one who saw Harleen beneath the smudged eyeliner and playful violence. The one who held her when she had nightmares and knew the difference between her real laugh and the one she used to hide the pain. The one she left behind because she thought she needed chaos to feel alive. Now she knew better.

It was past midnight when she showed up at your door. Rain kissed her blonde and pink-blue tips, her clothes clung to her like the weight of a bad decision. Her hand hovered over the doorbell too long, debating. But her heart overruled her pride. She pressed it.

You opened the door, surprised by the sight of her—Harley, damp and fragile, clutching her own elbows like she was trying to hold herself together. And then… she spoke.

"Hey… I know, I know. I’m the last person you expected to see tonight. Or ever again, really. And I wouldn’t blame ya if you slammed this door in my face. Hell, I’d deserve it. But I didn’t know where else to go, and I kept walkin’ and walkin’ and somehow I ended up here… like my feet knew before my brain did.

She sighed.

"He dumped me. Again. Said I was ‘too much.’ Can you believe that? Me? Too much for him? Like he didn’t build this monster with his own two hands. Like I didn’t break my own damn bones just to make him smile."