#driedink

Rorschach didn’t exactly thank her for the scarf. But the way he held it, silent and awkward and uncertain what to do as he stood there in front of her, Harley still rubbing a bit of sleep from her eyes...it was enough to make her smile. 

She made room for him on the couch, where he sat down slowly and reluctantly, the scarf still in his gloved hands, dark blots swirling and flinching over his Face. Daniel had the good sense to stop offering him presents at Christmas time years ago, but Harley...in all ways that both charmed and disgusted him, she was relentless.

“Put it on,” she croaked softly, still weary with sleep, and Rorschach complied. It was simple white cloth, nothing glamorous or gaudy the way the blonde typically liked to adorn herself with. Because she’d thought of him. What he would want. 

He stiffened when her head suddenly nestled against his shoulder, but didn’t pull away.

“Merry Christmas, Rory.”

She planted a little kiss against his cheek, and his gut twisted all the way up into his throat. Within a few moments, she was already fast asleep, the weight of her leaning into his side, and Rorschach was certain to break his own teeth if he didn’t ease off of how tightly he’d clenched them.

When he dared to look at her, he saw her face softened by sleep, peaceful and delicate and pale. Innocent...no matter everything in her history to the contrary.

His arm moved. He needed to leave. Retreat back into the sobering cold and away from her inviting warmth. But as he stirred, so did she, a little whimper in her throat as one of her slender arms moved across his chest, and sent his heart racing. As he settled back into the couch, still and silent again, he found his arm trapped, resting over her back, fingers curled into a tentative fist so not to touch the slope of her side.

(thank you bb!)

Harley wanted to be daring; climb up the drainpipe and through his window, and curl up next to him...if he was even there. Maybe just lay on his bed alone, and cuddle his pillow until he came back. 

Was that crazy? Creepy? Would he be mad?

Rorschach was always angry about something, but she hated it when that something was her. And the less and less she saw of him after she’d recovered, especially after the Joker died...it felt like he was angry with her.

One year. It felt like it had gone by so fast, once she had the use of her whole body again. One year, since the Joker had snubbed (and nearly snuffed) her for good. She’d been living with Dan for half that time, until she was at least healed enough to get around on her own. The other half had all been rigorous physical therapy, some from Dan, some from Rorschach. Of the two, Rorschach had definitely been the more demanding “coach.” He’d reduced her to tears more than once, however unintentionally, only for Dan to rush in and take over with a gentler approach.

But it was all worth it, to finally be on her own two feet, standing straight, and only dealing with a few aches and pains thanks to the colder weather. Worth it, when she could finally do her gymnastic stretches again, which always seemed to send Rorschach practically running from the room, regardless of the fact she’d usually been wearing sweatpants and ugly Christmas sweaters since November.

Harley knew it couldn’t be like this forever. Even if Dan was open to the idea, she couldn’t just mooch off of him. And he’d been talking about Barbara, lately...and if she knew he’d been taking care of Harley all this time, that might turn ugly, and fast. Better to get out while the getting was good, if she could just figure out what to do about income. 

But just as she’d been about to ask him to talk, he sprung a surprise on her. A pretty little invitation card to the Christmas party he was throwing in just a week’s time. Well...she could stick around that long, anyway...

51. “Something scared me” hug

It had been hard to sleep, ever since her fall from the window, and not just because of the pain. In her dreams, she could feel herself falling, could see the Joker’s bright green eyes fading away from her. No pity. No concern. Just cold…as she fell faster and faster, into empty darkness.

Until his voice whispered in her ear, with hateful, quiet words, until she felt the sudden agony of impact.

He couldn’t find out. It was that simple. She shouldn’t have tried this experiment. It was silly to think she could have a second chance. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Something came up.”

She swallowed.