Soundtrack: 10 Years - "Wasteland"
The sequel or continuation to Tryant [which can be found [link]
] - I have always enjoyed Batman and Harley when they're together. It doesn't mean I think they need to go make super athletic babies, I don't ship Bats/Harl, in the romantic sense. In our storyline there is an evolution of their relationship. He doesn't see her as a victim per say or even as a super criminal, but she's the lesser of all the evils. Harley Quinn is basically good, she just fell in love with the Joker, and the world he offered her.
Also please notice, he dropped the 'Batman' voice and was talking like he normally does, and this followed the Arkham-line with Hugo Strange, so Harley does know who Batman is under the mask.
I know that there is a lot of Bats and Harley running around my YT account and my dA.
The world screamed, at least at what could be considered their world. Immediate surroundings having groaned and given way, as he had forced himself up to a standing position as best as the man could through labored draws of air into his lungs. The bullet wound was still fresh, and even now he felt the structure slip and crumble under them. A rift in the building, a divide that saw it tearing away and sending the motley crew apart. His arm went to waist drawing forth that single device to possibly get a link to something more stable. He wasn't sure how anything like this could be happening, but he knew he above all else had to get Jim's son out of it before any of them. That was why the split's division was funny, as it took the two as far apart from one as it possibly could. The roof would begin to cave in, and his stability went out from under him. He acted on instinct, and took to Harley hauling her in and firing the line blindly as the world disappeared beneath them and attempted to swallow them into the groaning core. Their descent would suspend itself briefly as the line caught it's end, but it wasn't enough to stop the buildings wall from coming down across the line and severing it. Down they fell, through the structure before he would selflessly break their fall and immediatly sink into a heavy and somber black. Whiplash, unable to take stock of his damage, he could only hope he had spared one life as he struggled with the weight of his wounds. They were caved in on, the building as a hole smothering them under rubble but giving them refuses from any sort of further damage by natural cracks and beams supporting them. Hours passed as he waged an internal war with surrendering to his aches and pains. But this wasn't any man. This was a Batman. The silences that had permated about the bleak surrondings of dust and debris would be punctured by a single groan of defiance as he snapped awake, his body arching immediatly and hissing at the sting of the now possibly infected wound. He had to gather his wits. He had to make sense of what had happened. He instinctively knew there was death all around them, hidden away by walls of stone. It was probably well into the night now. Where were the sirens? Where were the rescue cries. There was nothing. It was like a black hell. He'd roll to his side, seeing nothing in the pitch darkness, a struggle of his arm to bring to the side of his skull before pressing a secret panal and smoothing fingers across to see the sudden green glare of night vision. It was then he remembered Harley. He wasn't sure right now how he'd react to her, or likewise to the puppet of The Joker.
The world screamed and she screamed right there with it. The poor girl had been through so much in the days prior, and moments before Gotham seemed to shake the little doll of the Joker seemd broken. Broken by her master no less. Anyone who'd known Harley for longer then five minutes knew that Joker's current plan was not one she'd liked. The way she tried to protect the boy, the way she tried to coax him and move him so he wouldn't fall prey to the Joker. All of those actions had shown that Harley was not a monster. She'd been right in the middle, right between Batman and Joker. Despite all of her hatred for his current plan, she couldn't allow Joker to suffer alone, no. She was in mid crawl to the broken and beaten Joker when the earth started to shake. She'd been much more aware that this hadn't been Joker's doing, she knew that it was something else. She let out a panicked kind of whimper when she felt the building start to sway. Her fingers gripped onto the floor, like it would help. "J...!" She cried out, she was scared and she wanted something to cling too. Poor girl. Joker wouldn't hold her regardless of his current state. So scared that she almost instantly wrapped her arms around the first person to grab her, it was the Bat. But she did little to care. Her face buried into the material of that suit, she closed her eyes and grabbed on as tight as she could. She could smell the almost sickening smell of copper, blood. She knew he'd been shot. It was the last thing she smelt as he once again broke her fell. Her eyes lulling shut in the entire process. She woke before the Bat, she'd been uninjuried, well the acception of a few cuts and bruises but nothing life threatening. She squinted in the dark, finger tips feeling someone next to her. She knew who it was the second she felt something sticky. Once again it was just Batman and Harley Quinn.
The grim scene of grimey green kept him lucid for the time, no sign of anything but infinte blackness and the neon tiles and signs of destruction hovering about them. Then the contact, faint against him. It jarred him, and he'd breath heavily before turning away and seeing Harley, abit worse for the wear, close at hand and accessible. And without a weapon of any sort. He could tell she was blind in the dark, and he kept it that way for now, moving to clasp his arm into his body and coiling himself to sit up with more of a struggle than he'd ever have been willing to admit. A harsh cough, his lungs and throat felt like dirt, no doubt from the inhalation of those surrondings. He found his voice, midly pained, but keeping the raspy growl on. Joker didn't do this, there was no way he'd have pulled something off as insane as this, even if he had probably wanted to. "What do you know." Blunt and to the point. Batman had always been business.
"You're hurt." She whimpered almost child like, naturally her lower lip pushed outward, it wasn't an act. She didn't know if Batman could see her or not. She might have hit her head on the way down, she might have felt this in morning but right now, she was kind of blind to the world and him. Her instincts where out of wack she would have helped him if she had too. She wasn't armed, but she still had her gun at her hip, if she had to use it. She didn't want to though. Jumping in the dark when he moved quickly, she once again blindly moved out of the way trying not to make contact with the Bat, anymore then she had too. He was the Batman after all. No matter how many times he saved her life, three times at this point. Brows knitted when he asked her what she knew, She almost seemed paniced, she knew one very important thing about him, "Noth-ing!" She shuddered, guilty sounding of course, but her voice seemed much more convincing as she calmed herself down. "Nothing about this, I swear Bats no bombs this time"
He could tell from the panic she wasn't attempting any subterfuge. But he still remained ill at ease. Since the time in Arkham too many coincidences had been piling ontop of one another. The promoting of Hugo Strange due to the unknown benefactor known as al Ghul. That of course had not added up, as he was postive that Ra hadn't made it out of that train intact. Of course this led him to believe that The League Of Shadows was at play. And while he had been busy trying to round up the assorted rogues released, he had been worn. Batman was exhausted, and through it all he had just seen his entire city he fought and lived for, crumble around ontop of him. Biting back any sort of resentment of emotions, he'd show abit of sympathy as he dug around into his belt. The sound of something clicking and fiddling open, before a sharp smack and the sudden burst of light around them. Clenching his eyes closed, he'd return to normal sight under the glower of that flare, holding it aloft with his good arm and looking around them. Not sure what to do with Harley as of now, he'd keep his distances and try to spot anything amongst the rubble that could look like an exit. Silences. As far as she could tell he had zoned her out for the time being.
To be honest, she could have given him the answer he probably needed and dreaded had he just asked what exactly she knew about. Dr. Arkham had told them that some woman named Talia had made him hire Strange. But someone shouldn't go out firing questions. The sharp flash of light forced Harley to blink in pain, she wasn't ready for that. However under this kind of light Batman could see what Joker and Gordon couldn't see up on the roof. She'd been crying, her emotions and sex betraying her. No one else was crying up there, but her and the boy. She looked around just like him. Looking for an exit, looking for Joker, Gordon or the boy. But she didn't see anyone and her head sunk down, she feared the worst. Joker probably died in the fall. "He...probably didn't." She didn't want to say it, not infront of Batman. She want to start crying again either. Turning herself she could feel her knees scrape against the gravel, she was facing the Bat again. Trying to make conversation, the silence was maddening to her. "Does it hurt, the bullet?"
He hadn't wanted to think of what had happened to the others, the absences of a body gave him hope that Jim and his son had somehow survived in a way he couldn't have imagined. He held his own private thoughts of the fate of that monster to himself. Harley's face was studied without her taking note, him able to watch her while seemingly keeping his gaze poised at the walls and such. He would have to stand up and look around, but as of now he didn't have the strength. Images of trying to move wreckage away and make a way out lended to the thoughts of the ceiling coming down ontop of them and killing him outright, a shame considering he had worked a miracle in avoiding death at this point. The question stung him, as though her words reminded him briefly of the pain he had now seemingly tied up and relocated to other parts of his brain. He'd answer again in the seemingly popular fashion of icey. "I don't have time to hurt. I have to get us out of here, we didn't suffocate so we're not completely closed off from air. It's just a matter of where we are in the building, and where we need to go. So many people. This wasn't just the building, this was all around us."
She would begin to look, once again once he mentioned that he had to get them out of there. Snorting a bit at that comment, she mumbled "I don't even think ya can stand." She said, of course making the mistake of saying that infront of Batman. He seemed to bring her back down to reality though, all the people that had been in the building. Joker of course one of them, and there was no telling what kind of damage had been done to him by Gordon, then there was Gordon himself, she wanted to see nothing happen to him or his son. She hadn't even fathomed how many people where also in here. How many lifes had been lost and why it happened. It had probably always be hustling and bustling, she didn't exactly know or remember what the Thomas Wayne memorial building was for, events or if something else happened here as well. Her face softened, another wave or realization coming over her as well. This building was for his father was well, she looked almost sorry for him. Pulling herself up to her own two feet she seemed a little unstable, that silly little thing barely able to stand start to take the first few baby steps in an attempt to explore what was around them.
He heard her comment but didn't make a action to respond to it right now. Arguing with this woman right now was fruitless, and he knew he'd probably need her before this was all said and done. Remaining grounded didn't sit well with him, especially when Harley climbed to her feet and showed signs of being able to move and go about freely. That was a start he supposed, as he'd squint up to see that black space of ceiling and see that they were atleast inside what could have been considered a natural room. So there had to be a door somewhere, trying to remember the layout, his mind still fuzzy from the fall. It was a shot in the dark, but he'd figure he'd try to direct her to what he would be doing if he was mobile. His voice finding her as he'd begin to take in the tossed and misplaced stacks of shelves and assorted boxes, thinking they were in some sort of supplied room. "Harley. I need you to do three things. Look for something in the debris, anything that might look like it has medical supplies. Look for an exit, or something that might resemble an exit. And don't touch or disturb anything." Slumping back, he'd dare to hold his arm out and offer the single source of light they had to her. A faint warm glow and soft hiss still sparkling from the head of that rod.
Treading carefully, she didn't know if the fountaination had completely caved and they were on the bottom floor or if she was one step away from falling to her death. She thought death because she knew that Batman wouldn't be able to recover in enough time to save her. She'd been looking for that exit, looking for light that the city offered. For once she was thankful that she couldn't see the stars at night. She stopped dead step when he spoke to her, like a human being. Well as close as she knew she was going to get when it came to him. The pair where thinking on the same page, she knew to get out of here, she needed Batman's help, that was given. And she guess she wasn't about to leave him in the building. There was nod that came from Harley, a truce for the time being as she reached out and took flare, careful not to burn herself. In those moments she look a quick look at the wound in his shoulder. She couldn't see that well, but there was some damage done too it. Making a mental list of the things she needed in her head, she'd set off. Once again careful to not step on something that make her fall. And the entire time cursing herself for wearing spiked heels. She was almost out of the Bat's line of sight when she tripped over a medical kit. Well not tripped as much as stumbled. Hoping it was more then a medical kit she started back to him, no sense in letting him suffer well she looked for a way out. "If the bullet can't come out, ya least need it disinfected and wrapped." She said swatting down next to him again.
As soon as she started off, he'd grit his teeth and lay his head back against the wall. The scene was still tearing into him, and he'd allow his defense to fall enough to murmur a growl of pain at his wound. He'd begin to fidget with the straps, daring to unhook the massive flex weaved cape from off his shoulders. Still struggling to draw breath, he realized the armor might have become too compact, and would begin unlatching it so that it could loosen. Now finally drawing deep breathes, he put up no fight when Harley returned with the kit towards him. Batman had seen better days, he even had looked a sight better when she had clubbed him in the skull with a mallet. A tender subject, he'd put it out of his mind as he'd immediatly speak once she opened the kit. "Did you see an exit." They never sounded like questions from him, always demands. He didn't take notice that he had stopped chewing gravel when he talked, the facade didn't seem necessary under these circumstances.
Knees once again getting scrapped the debris that she crawled on, she'd known that he was having problems breathing the second she was told to prop him up earlier. She knew he couldn't feel very good, regardless if he was Batman or not, she couldn't see how much of the armor had stopped the bullet. Squinting she focused on the pierced armor and then the wound below it. Remember what she'd learned in med-school, Harley didn't dare touch the armor, not without gloves first. Opening up the kit she saw the things she needed to tend to his wound. There was some kind of hand sanitizer, applying some to her hands, she'd save the rest for him. Grabbing the latex gloves she slipped them on her hands. "Ya, I'm pretty sure. I saw light, could smell fresh air." Moving towards the armor, she'd grab the unlatched edge of his armor and lift it up. If Joker was alive, he'd kill her for sure if he ever learned about this. She exposed his torso to the air, shaking her head she saw the samiliarities between two men. Batman and Joker. Joker's torso had been riddled with scars and bruises, just like his was. She tried not to think about it as she grabbed a bottle of disinfectate, readying it she bit down on her lip unscrewing the cap. "This is gonna hurt Bats, but I've gotta clean the wound." She knew better then to give him time to respond, she simply poured it over the wound.
Count his lucky stars that Harley had paid attention, watching her settle close he'd make no real fight about prying the armor from his torso. A second to grimace and then he'd bunker down. She hadn't need to explain what was coming, having suffered bullet wounds before and tended to by an ex medical officer, he knew what was coming. His mind saw hot white when she poured and he could only clench his teeth and counter her words with a single gruff sound of pain. Heaving a couple of breaths to work out whatever he felt he'd keep the wound exposed to her, talking quietly as though his words might cause the roof to come down. "Gotham isn't on any known fault lines. If this was an earthquake, is was man made. This is something outside the normal means." He would bounce ideas off of her instead of saying what he wanted to say. The scene up on the roof had been revolting to him, and he could tell it hadn't sat well with Harley. Questions plagued her, all of them coming through into his skull and daring to trickle out. He'd finally speak rather point blank. "Why." He'd never admit his grim fascination with The Joker. The polar opposite of what he strived to be, he was now sitting with by all circumstances was the single sane reasoning in the man's twisted life. He knew a part of Harley was still not in a downward spiral, the boy had proved it. Once he had tried to reach out to her, now he was simply trying to understand. An impossible task, analyzing The Joker.
"Who coulda done it?" It was on the tip of her tongue it truly was, obviously to make an Earthquake someone would have had to have been pretty loaded, and had some good connections. Of ocourse the first person that came to her mind was Bruce Wayne. But would Batman make the Earth shake, make Gotham shake? He was trying to protect it. "I don't know no one who coulda done it...our friends are more toxic I suppose." She was thinking about Crane and Pamela. She was careful to watch how much the wound bubbled, it wasn't that bad. So an infection was probably unlikely, but she'd still be careful. Her hands worked grabbing the other things she needed. She was some what amazed to find stitches in the kit as well. It might have been a more advanced first aid kit. She grabbed a set of metal set of tweezers, the bigger ones. Reaching behind her, she grabbed the lighter in the back of her pocket. She was the Joker's girlfriend and smoker, of course she'd have the means to make fire. Running the tweezers through the fire she'd sterilze it. Mind pass she'd stop and look at him, she didn't understand his question. Or if it was a part of the questions about the Earthquake. "Why what?"
The man remained silent for a time after she asked why, bracing for the incoming closing of that wound with the same luster of a man going to the gallows. Finally, he composed himself as carefully as a wounded man could with someone armed and dangerous. "On the roof. He tortured that man for his own amusement. He took a beating and just laughed at it. I understand most of the people I've put away. I don't understand him. I don't think I ever will." He didn't seem to be asking anymore, he simply had his say with what needed to be done. Those darken eyes found themselves staring uneasy towards the blank expanse infront of him. Mind riddled with doubts about things, Batman was coming at a cross road, and he didn't know how he felt about that feeling, feelings, he was having about it. He almost seemed pitiful, a broken and beaten body hand in hand with a mind that was tired and as wounded as well. As though he had felt the tension that was mounting, he'd address the wound like a man noticing a passing cloud, vacant response coming from The Dark Knight. "It's not infected."
"I wish I knew, I really did Bats." She spoke, not caring or knowing what kind of hints she was dropping when it came to her relationship with Joker. He probably knew them better then she gave him credit for. "I hate it though, Gordon put a beatin' on him. Can't blame him, but I know J was hurt..is hurt." She wasn't about to get into why she hated it, it was pretty obvious as to way. She wasn't about to switch up a wound with a bullet still in it, leaning over him her pigtails covered the sides of her face as she studied it. A hand moved to his chest right at the edge of the wound, she'd pushed down placing her full weight on the edge of the wound. The bullet was close to the surface, thanks to this armor and her flushing the wound. In the other hand was the tweezers, grabbing the butt of the bullet she'd pull it out. Examing the bullet she'd have to agree with him. "Nah, it's not infected, and I don'think the bullet splinchtered in you." She moved to get the stitches ready. "You made Gordon stop though, he woulda killed Joker. And somehow...it's self defense."
There was a silences at the word self defense. Reminded of his role in Hugo's death, a fresh one in light of the doubts that shadowed over him in regards to Ra's. A second sharp intake of breath when the bullet was drawn, and hearing her comment on the state of the ammo, if he had been relieved it would have been hard to tell. Mind locked on the gruesome image of Jim's demolished hand and the blood painted on it, he'd reflect on what happened before speaking in quiet contemplation. "That wasn't self defense. That was primal. Joker wants to blur the lines of reason, give into instincts. Life is funny to him, and he wants people to get his twisted view of it." A warped outlook, he couldn't count how many mornings he had been forced into a state of insomnia coming across one of Joker's disturbing scenes of past crimes. Cruel smiles carved into faces, each one vacant and lifeless, and deep down feeling responsible for every single one. Anger was controlled, as he felt the need to lash out and kept it in check with precise control.
She didn't blame Batman for Hugo, how could she when she and Joker were making plans to kill him themselves. She'd done that on purpose, she wasn't blind to the fact that Joker had done that on purpose. And no one was going to blame Batman for leaving Hugo alone with the monsters he created. She shushed and cooed him as she pulled at the bullet, it was instinct. Dropping the bullet between them, the needle like tool that had the stitches loaded on it she'd place on his stomach since she knew he was probably cleaner then the floor. Giving him one last shot of disinfectate, grab the needle and begin to push it into his skin. For a moment she wished he'd had some kind of pain killer in him, because she knew this couldn't feel good. "I didn't know that the boy was Gordon's. I swear. I didn't even want a kid to be brought into this. But..." But what could she have done? Both of them knew Joker was insane, and he was cruel, he would have killed her for disagreeing with his plans, his wishes. "---primal. That's not something you know about is it?" She treaded carefully there, "You know if Gordon had killed Joker, I don't know what I would have done."
"You would have went back to Arkham." He was still sitting infront of a murderess, a woman whom had as much a hand in all of this as Joker, consciences or not. As he again spoke to her in that matter of fact tone, he locked eyes immediatly with Harley. Nothing was said after that for a time, choosing to ignore the attempted baiting in questioning him. He simply allowed her to swing the lines of thread through him without a sound. The silences between them were uncomfortable, enemies forced to cooperate in strange times as they were. He'd flex his hand briefly in a closing fist to test his nerves, that hand scrunching up and tight before loosening. He'd finally submit, speaking in turn to her in that still tired tone. "I think we're in one of the supply rooms, they tend to be rather large in here. The door would be against the back wall, a hallway with six doors the fartherest leading back into the auditorium." He knew the place like the back of his hand privately from his time here as his alter-ego. His vision sinking down again to his wound.
"No. I'd turn the gun on myself after I killed Gordon." There was something chilling about her statement, but it was probably a truthful one. Harley was still in deep enough that she couldn't imagine her life without Joker. Which said something because neither of them knew exactly what happened to him. Finishing stitching up his wound she was a little rough with him now, as opposited to her gentleness before. She was chewing on her cheek well she formulated what to say --- a habit she'd learned from Joker. Bloody fingers grabbing a bandaid. "One just has to under what happened to you to make you that way." Brow quirked upward, oh she had a theory on why he was so cold and calucating, a small boy seeing his parents die right in front of him? Oh the damage that can do to a child, of course Dr. Quinzel would know. But she wasn't about to out to him that she knew who was under that cowl. As she placed that bandage on his chest with force with the medical tape in hand she'd secure the bandage. Snapping her gloves off her hands, she'd place them, and the other tools back in the kit. Figuring the kit would come in handy, she wasn't about to leave it behind. Rocking back on her heels she stood back up, looking in that general direction. Her hand offered to him, she asked, "Do you think you're strong enough to stand now?"
He would have been a fool not to notice the state in which she began to tend to him, the gentle nuturing giving away to a vindicative woman. He had walked into it he supposed, but was calm enough to ignore her change in character. When she offered her hand, he would push up with aide from a fallen rack, to his feet. The armor was shot, leaving only his vambraces and wrist and gloves, along with that blacken cowl. Squinting ahead, he'd mutter. "Fine." A ginger couple of steps, and he was surpressing the urge to fall back to the ground and move through the room. Stepping over downed objects and avoiding other things, he'd move towards the door infront of them that he had mentioned. A quiet scowl, before hand moved out to clasp the knob and jerk downward. It gave way, swinging down, but the door itself would not budge. He'd step away, looking back once towards the woman trailing behind him until facing the door once more. Wordless communication, he'd see the only viable exit infront of them, and knew the door would give way if both of them applied themselves. "On three."
She also was hinting at the fact that she'd never go back to Arkham, she'd much rather die then go back there. When he ignored her help, as useless as it would be she shrugged her shoulders, her head moving so her jingle bells chimmed. "Bats, be easy." She warned him, her arms ready to catch the dead weight if he fell again. She was already doing the math in her head, he probably had atleast a hundred pounds on her, and was much taller then Joker, so she was made even more tiny by him then she was with the wirely and lanky Joker. He was also in much better shape then Joker, she couldn't help but feel awkard that she'd seen and stitched up Batman's chest. She was slipping back into her sweet as Pie self, no longer upset with him, atleast for the time being. She'd nod her head, although she didn't know what kind of force she'd generate compared to him. "K. One. Two." She'd allow him finish the countdown, but on three they ran together both of them crashing into the door at the same time. She bounced off it, and even crashed into it again hoping it would now open. Her shoulder would be bruised in the morning thanks to that.
The man would run in time with Harley, ignoring his wound and his own health at the time. As they bolted forward they struck the door and it gave way with a creak and a groan, swinging open and causing him to take another nasty tumble down into the tiled floor, that gave way to split wall. There was an immediate difference in the air, he felt it as the rush of Gotham's chill immediatly assaulted them. Pushing up to his knees, he'd be unable to check on Harley, the severity of what had happened dawning on him in the smoke filled sky. Whatever twisted fate had played, allowed them to be all but sheltered from the collapse, giving him a view of the hollowed out husk of the building and into the open sky of Gotham. Buildings all about were shaken or disturbed, tall skyscrapers prelevant despite the sense of despair that seemed to hang over the scene. His city. His Gotham. It was destroyed. Fist clenching tightly, he'd push himself up to stand casting one look to Harley before making a silent vow. He would find who did this, and he would make them pay. Batman never looked grim as he stepped up the small hill of bricks and down into the expanse, the seeming tidal wave of destruction echoing out from the hollowed point of Gotham. Wayne Tower. For all extensive purposes it remained a bastion untouched, and unpowered. A sleek monolith amongst all the ruin. "Let's go."
"Batman!" She whimpered, she said holding her shoulder, she doubted she did anything but bruise it but still it hurt. She was going to warn him, tell him that he could pull his stitches. She was only in surgerial rotutation brieftly but already it was worth it's weight in gold. Crouching back down her hand moved to his shoulder, checking on him and his wound, she felt the rush of air hit them. And she was now beginning to regret not wearing her body suit, it seemed to retain heat a little bit better. Backing away from the Bat, she saw what he saw, she saw Gotham in ruins, she would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about this place in ruins once before. But of course it had done by Joker's hand and not by this. She saviored the moment, briefly. That was until she saw the look on Batman's face. Biting at her lip, the black was beginning to fade, she whispered to him, "I'm sorry." Weakness, or mixed messages galore, she couldn't help feel bad at the only rocksteady in his life was in ruins. Nodding she agreed, Lets Go.