Chapter Thirty Two

The group of exceptional women, heroes one and all, only stirred from their trancelike silence when the bedroom door quietly opened and clicked shut behind Harley Quinn.

They had all left when she ordered, not daring to question it when she had been the only one of them to endure the bombshells that had just dropped and still be functional afterwards. Each of them had taken a seat or found a spot around the living room, none of them sitting close to the others, and them simply…waited.

Whether their silence was stunned, horrified, thoughtful, analysing, or any of a half dozen other possibilities, all of them sat, and none of them spoke.

It took twenty minutes, maybe a half hour, for Quinn to emerge again. Nobody questioned the redness of her eyes, or the flush in her cheeks.

She quietly walked over to the kitchen. The heroines watched. There, the blonde moved comfortably around, finding several jars and pots, and making a variety of drinks. It took two trips before each of them held a mug in their hands. Harley settled into the only remaining seat, the corner of the sofa that usually had Dick curled up in it.

She sipped her own mug, and looked at each of the women unreadably. Then, she shared the answer to their unspoken confusion, as each woman sniffed or sipped their favourite drink. “Dick keeps little jars for each of ya. Pre-made, in case anyone visits. Not that any of ya ever do.”

That seemed to break the strange trancelike still that had come over them all.

Donna inhaled the spiced aroma of a coffee introduced to her by Diana. Difficult to get ahold of, and a unique mix of spices that perfectly emulated a Themysciran beverage, which was nigh impossible to replicate without training. She had never taught him it though, meaning… he must have noticed and asked Diana himself?

Zatanna initially quirked an eye at the strange beverage in her mug, a weird blue liquid, cold rather than warm like everyone else’s. She trusted Dick enough, and therefore Harley enough, to sip it experimentally though. Almost immediately, a sweet taste of iced coffee filled her mouth despite the mug lacking any actual ice, and with it a strange rejuvenation. Only a second later, she realised with a start that the little energy she had expended on the unlocking and silencing spells was recovering. Somehow, Dick had…found? Made? A drink that helped her magic refill.

Kory practically gulped her drink, what little caution and composure she usually had long since abandoned. Then, she began crying softly again, as she tasted the monstrosity of a hot chocolate within. She’d not had this, not even made it, for years now, since she learned about human tastebuds and what they found acceptable, and realised that this was genuinely vile to them. It was cold, there was far too much extra sugar, it used salt for some reason, there was a pump of lime syrup in there, and so many more things wrong with it. But it tasted like early mornings in Titans Tower, with the dawn’s sunrays cutting in to highlight Robin’s handsome features as he sipped the nightmarish hot chocolate she had made for him with a soft smile, and not a single complaint.

Barbara sipped lightly, recognising the specific blend of chamomile she enjoyed, but rarely drank. It was a custom import, and she never thought it worth the effort. It really felt like someone had doused her veins with liquid calm. She looked to each of the women sat around the room, and then she shuddered ever so slightly when the realisation hit her.

He didn’t live here before. He’d been homeless. Which meant that all of these pre-prepared drink jars he’d made for them- probably for everyone he knew, if even Kory had one- were new. He’d made them after coming back from Spyral. After everyone had turned their backs to him… he’d just gone and made custom drink prep for each of their favourites. Not even because he thought they would visit, but just in case they ever did.

Unbidden, a tear broke from the redhead’s eye and rolled down a freckled cheek before she could stop it.

All eyes turned to Harley as she sighed, and leaned forwards to place her mug on the table. It was a hot chocolate, done exactly how Dick had his with marshmallows and squirty cream floating on the top.

She sat back into her seat, but didn’t relax. Instead, she looked around the room, and said, “Okay. I can’t stop ya from asking questions, like I know Dickie would wan’ me ta’. I ain’t him, and I don’t know any of ya well enough to give a shit ‘bout ya feelings. So lemme start by sayin’ this.”

Harley closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, then opened them. “I been with Dickie a month. Been his friend four months. Been in the whole hero-villain life fa’ ten years, I think. I fought him when he was in sparkly green shorts. Before that, I was a psychiatrist. A pretty good one too, until I met the Joker. I spent years with that clown cunt, too fuckin’ stupid to know how bad it was. I know at least ya saw it, if ya the gal what manages the Bats.”

She nodded to Barbara at that point, but doesn’t wait for a response. Instead her eyes harden, even as a slight shimmer comes to them that tells how she’s holding back tears. “Nevah’- Never. Never have I known someone so fuckin’ wonderful, so full of life as Dickie, be so systemically abused by every single sorry fucka’ in his life. Never have I seen someone give everythin’ he could give and then a little more, and still be so completely abandoned.”

It was clear now that fury was the thing that held back her tears, as her clenched fists laid in her lap and her frame shook imperceptibly. “Mist- Joker was terrible ta’ me, really awful. I wanted ta’ die every fuckin’ day fa’ years just as much as I thought I loved him. But when I looked around at tha’ end, when I shoulda had noone left? Ivy was there ta’ pull me up, and help me when I had nuthin’.”

The only thing that kept her voice from shouting was the knowledge that Dick was sleeping in the other room, and instead, it grow sharper edged and stronger. “Dick gave everythin’ for you. All of you. Ta’ save everyone’s precious secret identities. And you- you all just-”

Her pearly white teeth clacked shut as her words failed her, and her frame shook with rage.

In the quiet, Barbara finished for her, her voice soft and resigned, “...we told him it wasn’t good enough, and we didn’t want to see him. We sent him away because we were hurt he’d lied about dying.”

“...but he wasn’t lying, was he?” Donna uttered so quietly she wouldn’t have been heard if not for the silence gripping the room. “He actually died, back then. That’s what he was saying? He died, survived somehow, and then Bruce…?”

A supernatural green glow gradually spread across the room. Kory’s eyes were lit up like searchlights, the light leaking almost like liquid around the edges even as tears continued to drip down her cheeks. Her voice was broken from emotion, but full of a deeply uncharacteristic deadly anger. “The Batman must burn for his fulkjarg-”

At this, showing no fear or caution, Harley snaps viciously, “You don’t get to decide that, Starcunt!” The green glow stuttered and fell, four pairs of eyes staring in shock at the otherwise neutral blonde’s sudden insulting vitriol.

Icy eyes matched them all. “None of ya do! This is the fuckin’ problem. Dickie don’t need ya to do shit for him, ta’ make his choices for him, he needs ya to fucking listen! To support him, like the friends- fuck it, like the family he fucking sees ya all as! Hasn’t he had enough choices taken away from him?”

The rising aggression in the room, responding to the ex-villain’s own, suddenly froze at the reminder. Barbara looked sick again, and asked the others, “D…did you- did any of you know about…?”

Donna grimly shook her head. Kory blinked away another tear, and shook her head so hard her hair flew. Zatanna grimaced, muttering a ‘no’. The four of them looked at Harley.

She let out a low, ugly, condescending noise, then, “Ya all known him fa’ years. I know at least two of ya slept with him. And somehow, ya didn’t know? Didn’t see? I been around him fa’ four months, and even I fuckin’ saw the signs. Guess it helps when no other fucka’ cares enough so ya only choice is the insane villain tryin’ ta’ do better. Who needs enemies with friends like this?”

Zatanna buried her face in her hands, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. With soft disbelief, she says, “I’ve been trying to work out why he seemed so… I wanted to use today to try and do that. He just… he seemed like he needed a friend, and I missed how we used to be. Haven’t spoken properly in years, and I was offworld when everything…”

She raised her face to look at Barbara, Donna, and Kory. Her features were shaped with a mix of disbelief and confusion, with just enough disgust and disappointment to turn her beauty sharp. “I never got a real explanation. Now, I’m hearing that he died, went away for ages and let you think he was dead, and when he came home… you just, what, told him to get fucked? All of you?”

She scanned their faces as if trying to find the answer. “It’s Dick. Dick Grayson. How could you possibly think you had the right, any of you? All anybody needs to do is ask and he’s there, giving every part of himself to help, and never asking in return. Then, the one time he actually asks for help- you just said no?”

Her voice cracked at the end from the upset that had grown with every word to mix with the astonished disbelief. Her blue eyes like sapphires, searching each of them and finding only shame and grief. Something shifts in her, and she sits straighter, turning to face Harley. “Harley? Quinn, was it?”

The blonde narrowed her eyes slightly, and said, “Sure, but Dick uses Harls these days, outta the field.”

The raven-haired magician nodded, “May I also?” She waited for Harley’s accepting nod, then said, “Harls, thank you. For being there when nobody else was. I don’t dare to think what might have happened without you.”

She took a deep breath, as if trying to gather her courage. “You’ve earned the right, ten times over, to do whatever you need to do to protect him. But…If you’re willing to let me, I want to do the same, and be there for him when nobody else will, help him when he won’t help himself. I...”

Harley reached over and grabbed Zatanna’s wrist, searching her eyes. Clearly, whatever she finds is enough, because she nods firmly with a tired smile, “Sparkles, I ain’t his keeper. I’m his girlfriend, heh. I won’t try and stop ya unless it’s hurtin’ him.” Her eyes cut to the other three. “Goes for all of you. I won’t trust ya three easy, not when I know ya coulda helped and didn’t before, but…”

She looked over at the bedroom door and swallowed around a lump in her throat. Her voice trembled slightly with emotion when she said, “...Dickie misses ya. He never says it, but he doesn’t need to. He misses his family, and his friends, and…he still loves some of ya, more than a friend does.”

Harley looked back at the others with a tiny sad smile on her lips, “I don’t think he ever stopped loving his exes, honestly. You’d think I should be jealous, but I’m not. I think it’s beautiful, how he has so much love that he can keep givin’ it ta’ people who don’t give back. It’s also tragic, ‘cause sometimes it’ll slip, and I remember that the only person he’s got left is just…me.”

There’s something small and so terribly sad about how she says the last word, and Zatanna can’t help but grab the woman’s hand on her wrist and squeeze comfort to her. She gets a weak smile in return, and the raven-haired magician turns to the other three women.

“Well?” She raises an eyebrow at them. “What will you be doing?”

“Obviously I shall remain here.” Donna said, as if it were a fact rather than something she had failed to do before.

Kory was nodding as well. “I as well will be staying to help Richard. I… If he allows me to.”

“Yeah…” Barbara let out a long resigned sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I’m not going anywhere either. I just don’t think…”

She trailed off, and Harley finished for her, her voice hard and unforgiving, but not unkind. “You’re right, what ya ain’t saying. He won’t let you in easy, girls. I don’t know much, but he shared enough for me to know that. All of ya spent months pushing the man, teaching him to accept it. When ya care, when you get involved, he don’t believe it’s for him anymore. He looks for what he’s done that’s **** ya here, because that’s the only thing that’d explain it now.”

“So, please, try ya hardest… but remember that saying, ya know the one?” She looks around at each of them, a fierce intensity in her gaze. “‘There are three things all wise men fear; the sea in storm, a night with no moon…”

“...And the anger of a gentle man.” Barbara softly finished, her expression oddly muted.

“I told you before.” Harley said, words landing like the **** knell of a bell. “I’ve never known a man so wonderfully good as Dick, someone so capable of **** with such a gentle soul, that’s been punched and pushed over and over again by everyone around him. And now?”

The blonde looked over at the bedroom door where Dick lay peacefully sleeping. Her eyes didn’t drift, and her voice was almost a whisper when she spoke.

“...now, the gentle man is angry, no matter how much he’ll hate himself for pushing back.”