i'm holding on for dear life- harleyxjoker

tough girl in the fast lane

Hi guys! Guess what? I finished my last assessment for a while today which means I have more time to write longer (and better chapters) Yay! I have lots of inspiration for this story and hopefully I'll be similarly inspired for my video edits soon! This chapter is sort of fluffy, but it will get pretty dark again soon! Thanks for reading the story and expect more chapters coming your way soon xx

The light streamed in through the window causing The Joker to groan loudly. What time was it? How long did he sleep for? He moved, stretching out his sore muscles before he stiffened. The familiar weight in his lap was gone. Harley was gone. He shot upwards, lurching forward and looking around the room. The bathroom door was closed. Shit.

He ran forward, twisting the knob hard. It opened easily. He sighed. He could hear the shower running now and see Harley's pyjamas strewn out on the floor. The glass had fogged up and she couldn't see him. Good. He wouldn't have wanted her to see the panic on his face. He walked out carefully, closing the door silently behind him. Why was he so worked up? She was just in the bathroom. There was nothing else.

But the thought of Harley laying lifelessly in the tun resurfaced in his mind. Her cold frail body limp in his arms. Not even the warm steam of the shower could make that memory go away. The Joker growled. He wouldn't be so damn worried about her all the time. He refused. She wouldn't make him feel like this. He stalked out of the room angrily. He needed a drink.

~~~

The water burned her skin. She hissed as it touched her, relishing in the hurt which encompassed her whole body. At least with the physical pain she could determine where it came from. She could easily turn the hot water off if it became to much for her.

But the pain that was inside her, that was harder to contain. Sighing, Harley turned off the water, grabbing the towel she had laid out for herself and drying her long limbs. She turned around, catching a glimpse of the shiny white bath tub in the corner of the room. She didn't want to look at it. She could feel the water filling up her lungs, she could feel herself struggle in the thick water, desperate to get up, to fil screaming lungs with air. It was all too much.

She turned around and promptly threw up the contents on her stomach into the toilet, heaving hard, causing her to whimper as her ribs protested from beneath her skin in pain. Tears pricked at her eyes. She hated this. It was a fucking bath tub for gods sake. It wasn't like it had done anything. If she was going to vomit at anything it should be her own damn reflection.

She moved over to the skink, thankful that the fog had clouded up the mirror. She didn't want to see herself. She washed out her mouth quickly before hanging up the towel and putting on a robe she had found in the closet. She reached for the door. Should she go out there? What if he was awake? What would she even say to him? She gnawed at her lip anxiously. She couldn't very well stay in the bathroom all day! She would have to come out sometime.

She opened the door slowly and peaked out of the room. His indent was still on the covers, but there was no body. Harley was thankful for that. She needed a few more minutes to compose herself. Sh slowly walked across the room and into the hallway. She could hear frustrated grunts coming from the kitchen. She almost mustered a smile.

"Shit! Why wont this thing work!" The Joker yelled, pushing the coffee pot across the table. His icy eyes looked up, spotting Harley in the hallway. She must have heard him yelling.

She looked tired still, the skin on her face seemed to stretch out painfully over her bones. Her skin was red and raw looking. How hard was she scrubbing herself in the shower? Were those tears in her eyes?

"D'ya need some help puddin?" she asked softly, walking forward and taking the pot and turning it on before he could even answer. He watched her carefully, seeing her slow and measured movements. She was trying too hard. She didn't want anything to seem out of place.

"Are you okay?" The words sounded funny on his lips. Not the right kind of funny. She turned around to look at him, her eyes wide. "You were in there for a while."

For a moment, her mask faltered and he could see the fear and shame in her eyes. Then she looked away, forcing her lips up into a mockery of a grin.

"Yes baby, I'm fine" she replied, moving to walk past him. He grabbed her wrist firmly, but not hard enough to hurt her. The way she winced at his touch hurt more than any blow. He looked her up and down. Feeling her nervous energy.

"I can smell the sick in your hair."

Her eyes widened and she tensed. The shame filled her eyes and she tried to tug herself free. He wasn't giving up so easily. He watched as she panicked in his grip, like a deer trying to free itself from a trap. Soft cries of embarrassment escaped her lips, slowly getting louder and louder until he couldn't take it anymore and pulled her close to him, resting his chin on top of her head. And she cried, sobs wracking her small body as she shook in his arms. He said nothing, just holding her tightly. He heard the coffee pot finish boiling but he didn't care.

He slowly moved them so that he could pick Harley up in his arms, carrying her like a child back up into the bathroom. He sat her down on the toilet and she whimpered as he moved away from her. He turned on the shower, making sure it wasn't too hot before picking her up off the seat. He took the robe off slowly, letting it drop to the floor. Her nakedness didn't bother him. This was not what he was here for. He guided her into the shower carefully, stepping in after her. She looked up at him, confused. His clothes were drenched. He shook his head at her. A silent warning not to speak. It didn't matter.

He slowly turned her around, reaching for the pink shampoo bottle. The smell was familiar to him. It smelled like her. He squirted some into his hands, lathering it into Harley's hair. She moaned at the contact, leaning her head back into his touch.

She was his little girl, so small and vulnerable. Her hands gripped at his leg even while he was rinsing the suds out of her hair, as if she was anxious he might just disappear.

He knew he had threatened to leave her, but he never would. Because as he looked over the scared blonde in front of him, with shampoo dripping down her pale back and her eyes red from crying, he knew that he needed her just as much as she needed him. He placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder blade.

"C'mon kiddo, lets get you dried off and have some breakfast."