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Harley Quinn Meets The New Savior - FanFiction

After being separated from the Joker, Harley wanders the streets. Her mental state is fragile, she is jumping between two personalities, when she meets She who will be her salvation.

Dr. Harleen Quinzel’s view:

What have I been doing all this time? Why am I imprisoned? Why am I kissing that freak The Joker?

I look at him in horror. He is my patient, what the hell is he doing? I push him away. He strikes me. I have a baseball bat. I’m not sure where I got it or why I have it, but I am glad I do. With all my might I hit him in the face. The Batman is here. I turn to him for help, but he chases after me. He is treating me as a criminal — so I run. I run as fast as I can.

I duck into an alley. What the hell is going on?

I wander the streets. For the life of me I can’t figure out why I am costumed as a common street whore. I don’t want to, but I steal some clothing.

I find a newspaper.

What’s this?

I am wanted?

The Joker and I are “the king and queen of Gotham?”

I have nowhere to go. I can’t go to the police. I am on the streets for months. I am eating out of dumpsters. I must be into someone else’s territory. I am surrounded by four thugs. I try to talk to them. I try to reason with them.

They grab me. One of them hits me in the head.

Harley Quinn’s view:

Who were those guys? Why were they attacking me? It doesn’t matter, they got theirs. But where they hell am I?

I’ve lost track of time. Has it been a month?



I can’t remember.

The last memory I have is my puddin breaking me out. He wouldn’t take the espresso machine — the bastard, but I was happy to see him. I was freed.

We were just outside the gait when this red streaky thing showed up, followed soon by The Bat.

We got separated. I fought hard, but I don’t know, I just can’t remember. And, why am I dressed like a republican?

Satins View:

The woman can take care of herself. We have been keeping an eye on her. She is the one from the news, the Joker’s woman. She seems scared, alone. The disciples report back to me and I arrive just in time. She is surrounded by four pretty big men. I am about to act, but her personality seems to shift. She switches from victim to aggressor.

She dispatches those four men as swiftly as any of my thirteen could have.

Harley Quinn’s view:

I am being watched. I don’t know by who, but there is someone out there. I holler out, asking if it is my Puddin. There is no answer. Someone is there. I ask who it is, but still no answer.

Wait. I see someone. It is a woman. Oh my God.

She is tall.

And muscular.

And so hot!

She is alone. She is approaching me. She doesn’t say a word. She puts her arm around my shoulders. I don’t need anyone’s protection, but for some reason, here, in her embrace, suddenly, I feel as if I do. For the first time in forever, I feel — safe.

Dr. Harleen Quinzel’s view:

Where am I?

Who is this person?

Where did she come from?

Why am I walking with her? I begin to ask, but I stop. I feels so safe here. So incredibly secure. I don’t know why. I don’t need to question it right now. I haven’t felt like this is such a long time.

Satins View:

This woman is one hot mess. She has just flipped personalities twice. I wonder how many more are in there. I want to help her. She is just the kind of lost soul the church takes in — but the attention she would draw. She is already over the deep end, and she could be more of a problem than Patty ended up being.

I can’t take her to the church, or any church held properties. I will just take her to a motel for now. Let her get cleaned up, get her a good meal and some clothes.


The two women walk arm in arm. The shorter one, clutching at the taller one for safety and security. She transitions between her two personalities several times. Yet, whether it is Harley or Harleen, she doesn’t attempt to flee.Iif anything, she moves herself in closer and closer.

They arrive at some non-descript motel. It isn’t a dump, but it sure isn’t the Trump Tower. The front desk woman is too drunk to pay them any real notice. She takes the money and hands them a key.

Once behind closed doors, the shorter blonde woman, with the extreme alabaster skin, breaks down. She is continuously switching between her two personas. However, no matter which personality is dominant at the time, both of them cling to the taller, muscular woman. Finally, in the presence of Satin, the two personalities meld into one.