Harley had decided to hit the town and take the babies with her on a good, long walk to clear her head. Maybe she shouldn’t make any rash decisions. And what would Clint think? Sure, he’d have to pay attention to her if she followed through with her plans, but would it be worth it? Would they stay friends? Or would they end up on opposite sides? She heaved a heavy sigh just before the hyena pups tugged so hard on their leashes that they managed to fully escape her.
“Bud? Lou? C’mon, guys! Don’t run off without mommy or you’ll get lost!” She hurried off after them, chased them down the street far longer than they’d ever led her along. What were they after, anyway? Did they smell food? They were headed in the direction new arrivals usually came from... maybe it was a familiar smell? Oh no... don’t be Batman. Anyone but Batman. When Harley turned the street corner and saw that the hyenas had finally stopped, she too stopped dead in her tracks. No... no way, this wasn’t real, was it? She was hallucinating again. She was just seeing things.
“Oh...” She took a few wobbly steps closer to him, one hand outstretched cautiously, still closer to herself than him by a few feet. Harley felt like she’d fall over any second. The last time he’d been around, she went behind his back and stole from him. When she went home, it was like it never happened. But... now she was back. He was back. But... it wasn’t him. It was him. Her him. The one she’d first fallen for. The one who’d made her the woman she was today.
Maybe he hadn’t seen her, maybe the pups were distracting him. But eventually she got close enough that he had to look. Was he real? She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she’d dreamt him up so many times that Harley was scared this would be no different. That as soon as her fingers made contact with that purple jacket, he’d either disappear or the illusion would fade and she’d be touching a stranger. “Puddin’?” Tears were streaming freely down her face, dragging black, red, and blue makeup down with them. She wasn’t smiling, he’d probably be mad, but she didn’t have it in her. She’d found and lost him too many times in her head already. “Is... is it really you? Tell me I ain’t crazy. Tell me yer really here.” Normally she’d tell the image of him a joke, a bad pun, but... she’d been feeling too lonely to manage one. She’d missed his smile too much. “Tell me a joke. Laugh. Hug me. Do... do somethin’ so I know yer real this time.” Her gaze shifted to the gravel, lower lip trembling as she tried to bite back a sob. Bleached white hands made their way up to her forearms, hugging herself tightly in his stead. “Tell me ya ain’t mad. That ya still care about me. ...Please.”
