Batman: The Promise

Chapter 2: The Moment

He couldn't give up. He'd decided that he'd have to settle for using a distress beacon. The signal on his belt just flashed on as he pressed it. The only other thing he knew he could do was try to boost his own signal and pray the GCPD could reach him. But what state was the building in after those explosions and how long could that take to sift through rubble? As he looked around the vault he swallowed hard and ignored the ringing in his ears. He'd slipped. The great Batman was locked into a mechanical coffin. By his calculation they had less than an hour of oxygen at most. All he could do now was pray the signal could locate them. When he looked over he saw Falcone, his neck had snapped in the chaos of the vault tumbling down, but he hadn't felt it since the Joker had shot him between the eyes anyway.

Fresh blood poured on the metallic floor underneath Harley. Batman knelt down.

"Harley," said Batman.

"Whaddya want, Bats?"

"I need to see where you were shot, please, don't struggle."

He rolled her over to her side and she winced with pain. On the left side of her torso he saw that the bullet had gone through her rib and out the other side. Fresh blood seeped out. He always kept a small med-kit on his belt, just in case.

"Stop," said Harley, her words almost airless. "Stop, don't hurt-"

"Don't resist. I'll need to add some gauze and bandage to stem the bleeding. It will do the job for now."

He slipped out the roll of bandages from his belt and the synthetic-skin patches. His gloves slid into the torn fabric of her suit and there was a loud tear of the material. He felt the smooth bumps of her ribs as he applied the skin-adhesive. He rolled her over to finish off the bandages. It would hold for now and stem any more blood loss, and that's all that mattered. She'd survive. The Joker had shot her—he'd truly not cared about her enough.

Harley slid away from Batman, stopping as she hit the side of the wall. "He shot me," she said as her voice cracked. "Mistah J shot me."

"And he's locked you in here with me."

He saw Harley cover her face. She yanked off the jester-ears of her costume and threw them towards Batman. They landed on him and fell onto the floor with a jingle. He didn't bother to look at them. He focused on Harley's sagging shoulders as she sobbed quietly to herself. Through every high-pitched gasp he could hear the sincerity of her tears, unlike the hundreds of times she'd faked them.

Batman squinted his eyes. "What was that tonight, Harley?"

"What's it to you? Just leave me alone," grumbled Harley. "We'll both be dead soon anyway and I'd rather do it not listenin' to you."

"Why did you push me? The Joker had a clear line of sight on me. Jilted lover issues?" He watched her as she wiped at her eyes, the patches underneath giving way to the pinkish skin of her real cheeks. Her right eye was dark and purple.

"Nunna ya concern."

"What's the matter, growing a conscience?"

"Not that it's any of your concern, Bats. Just stick to your broodin'—ow—and leave me alone," she said as she gripped her side.

"You have put yourself on the line for him time and time again. How many times are we going to do this, Quinn? How many times does he need to break you in order for you to see the truth."

"I see it," she said softly.

"He's out there and for all your worth, he's left you to die just like me. I hope this is the wake-up call you needed."

"Don't talk down to me, Batbrain. You're not so much better yourself. Figures the one time the great dark knight gets out of somewhere unbreakable it's when I'm with him. I got tha worst luck with men."