The Universe's Mixer

"Oh Puddin'" Harley said with a sniffle.

She had snuck on to the grounds of Blackgate. She had to see him for herself and while she had been putting it off....she knew she would eventually find herself standing before him. Jack. Joker. Whatever anyone wanted to call him but he would always be Puddin' to her. Unless they were in the presence of company and then it was always Mista J. But she couldn't believe what she was seeing. He was...he was stone. A statue! Someone's fucking garden gnome. He deserved better and they both had seen worse.

Another sniffle and a couple of large, sloppy tears cascaded down from her eyes and coursed down her cheeks. She lifted a hand and set her palm on his chest, over the part where his heart would be and she got closer to him. "Puddin' I wish ya could hear me. I wish you was here ta help. Eddie has gone crazy. Kidnapped a girl and some guys came lookin' for her. Messed him up pretty bad. The Doc ain't gonna be too happy with me for helpin' 'em, but Eddie framed me. I was screwed eitha way and the smarter choice was ta go with the nice Brooklyn fellas. I dunno if I'm gonna make it too much longer above ground. But in case I don't, I wanted ya ta know that I was here. That I love ya and that at least for one minute we were togetha. Even if you are just a statue."

Her lips found his stone cheek and then she pulled back. Fingers wiped at her streaming eyes and Harleen knelt down to the ground. She set her teddy that he had gotten for her at the carnival near one of his stone shoes, the bear resting against the statue almost comically.

When she rose again, Harley looked at the statue of her love, pressed her fingers against her lips and blew him a kiss. "Love ya, foreva. No matta what." With that, she turned and Harley raced quietly toward the high wall of the compound. She scaled the wall, leapt up and was over and down on the other side in a matter of moments. The night allowed her to creep back to Arkham where a cold, lonely bed full of emptiness awaited her. And a possible death sentance.

It was noisy at the gym, and it wasn't the kind of noise Steve was used to. He was used to barracks, where the chatter was overly cheerful, enthusiastic. Men who were shoving aside the realities of being in a war, trying to enjoy themselves with others in the same boat. They joked, and they teased, but in general, they respected one another and held together. If one soldier went down, they all went down, so there had been camaraderie, fellowship, and a grim determination to stick through it all together.

Even SHIELD had kept a sense of that. Steve hadn't usually had much of a crowd in the training rooms there, but when others were around, it was the same sense of togetherness. People who shared a common goal, working together. Holding together.

( The noise here was ugly. )