Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in the fanfic.

A/N: If you have read any of the Harley Quinn series, then you'll know who Guy Kopski is, but if you haven't, the short and sweet version is this: When Harleen was in college, she used her boyfriend for her experiment to get into grad school. Unfortunately, the stress she put him under (and a poisoned cocktail) sent him right over the edge!


"Guy—NO!" Harleen screamed as Guy lifted the gun to his head. "I'll—I'll get rid of the body! No one will ever know. It'll be our inside joke, you know." She took a step towards him and placed her hand over his, the one that was holding the gun.

"It's so funny I could die," he said. Guy placed the tip of the gun's barrel under his chin.

Harleen couldn't fight back the tears. This was all her fault. She was going to lose Guy if she didn't do something. "Guy, don't do this. Please don't. I love you. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Guy never looked at her. He kept his face lifted to the rafter beams of the gym. "I'm doing this because I love you. Help me, Quinz. Make sure I pull the trigger."

His words echoed in her ears still. He was completely serious. What have I done? "Guy, no, I won't let you do this." She tried to pull the gun away, but his grip was iron tight. She never knew whose finger had been on the trigger. But it didn't matter. The top of Guy's head exploded like a volcanic eruption as a loud bang rang out.

"NO!" Harley shouted. She sat up in bed, checking her face for blood and bits of brain, still caught up in the nightmare's current. A few minutes passed, when Harley recognized where she was. Arkham. There were no windows in her cell, but most likely it was still early. She lay back down and waited for sleep to come again. Hopefully, this time there would be no nightmares, only a lonely pit of blackness to dwell in.

Later that day.

"Harleen Quinzel, your request for an early release has been granted. You know the drill. No leaving Gotham until your next hearing, which will be in a month, and please behave yourself."

"I will," she promised, giving the parole bar a two-fingered, Boy Scout salute. The members of the parole board look at one another, the doubt apparent on their face. Harleen followed the guard of the room and to the check-out station. It was early December, but no one would be able to tell. The sky was a swirl of clouds. Winter would come early this year, she thought. She shivered in spite of the warmth of the lambskin lining in her bomber jacket.

Harleen kept walking until Arkham was a black dot on the horizon. The Joker's new hideout was in a warehouse down by the waterfront. As she reached the city limits, she was able to hail a cab to take her the rest of the way. Home sweet home with the Joker. The thought should have made her insides quiver and a sappy smile spread across her face but it didn't. She stared out the window, pressing her forehead against the glass. "What's wrong with me?" Harleen murmured.

"What did you say?" the driver of the cab asked her, he peered at her in his window.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

Mistah J was there when she arrived and was apparently planning his next heist. She thought seeing him would snap her out of her funk, but nothing changed. For the first time in her life, she felt absolutely nothing for the Joker, Mistah J, her puddin'. She went upstairs, without saying a word, and took a hot shower, a luxury she had missed since being in Arkham. She went to the mirror and started to comb out her blonde hair, which she cut short while in prison. The Joker liked her hair long; he enjoyed pulling it when she got out of line. So why did I do it, she asked herself.

It hit her like the cold water pouring all over her nude body. I'm cured! I'm my sane self once again. "NOOOO!" she screamed, her temper flaring. The once infamous criminal Harlequin smashed her fist into the mirror, causing spider cracks to run through it. Tears began streaming down her face. Harleen sank to the floor as the first sob escaped from her lips. She jumped when a hand touched her but not as much as when she saw who it was. "Guy?" Harleen whispered.

"Who else would it be?" he asked, looking into blue eyes.

"But…but…you're dead."

"I know. You killed me, remember?" Guy told her. He held out the pistol for her to see before he raised it to his chin and pulled the trigger.

The last thing Harleen remembered before she passed out was hearing screams, her screams echoing off the tile walls.

"Harley! Wake up!" a familiar voice called, it seemed, to be from far away.

With a grunt, Harleen awoke to see her clown prince bending over her, as if she was some princess in a fairy tale. She closed her eyes awaiting his kiss. The illusion shattered when he smacked her across the cheek.

"C'mon, Harley. Rise and shine. You know what the say, the early criminal catches the Bat," he joked.

"Wh-What happened?" she asked him, rising up on her elbows.

"You tell me. The boys and I heard you screaming and we came running. Do you know how disappointed I was not to find Batman?"

"I'm sorry, Joker. It won't happen again."

Both the Joker's eyebrows popped up. "Did you just call me 'Joker'? Come to mention it, you haven't tried once to touch me. What's the matter with you? You sick?"

Harleen started to laugh. She couldn't help it. "Yeah, I am." Then the tears began to fall. She was laughing and crying, while the Joker just looked at her puzzled. After a few moments, she was able to regain her composure. The Joker was still looking at her funny as he stood up.

"Stop, don't go! Please don't go." He didn't move but he was turned away from her. Very slowly, she crawled over to him. Harley made a move to touch his shoulder but she stopped herself. She dropped her hands down to her side.

"I need you to tell me something. No more jokes." She watched his shoulders sag.

He sighed. "What, Harley? I've got things to do."

"We've known each other for quite awhile, haven't we?"

"Yes. So—get to the point, girl." He turned around to look at her. His hands were on his hips and he began stomping his foot.

"I've done whatever you told me to do. I cooked for you, cleaned for you, took beatings from you," she counted the examples off on her hand, "and killed for you. I let you use me as your dog and do you know why? Because I love you, you idiot!"

"Harley," he started to say, but she interrupted him.

"NO! For once you'll listen to me!" He shut his mouth. She continued on. "I came to Arkham because I knew that was where you were being held. There was never any book on serial killers; I made it up. I just wanted to see you. You reminded me of someone…someone I had thought I had lost forever. Someone, who loved me more than life itself. But I was wrong." She moved off of the bed and went to stand in front of him.

"Tell me I'm wrong." She kissed him lightly on the lips. "Say something." She kissed him again. "I've studied your files. You've never had a girlfriend. For some reason, you avoid female companionship, excluding prostitutes of course." She undid his pants before she slipped her hand inside them. "Am I getting warm?"

She found what she was looking for and grabbed his organ hard, causing the Joker to sigh. This time it was not a sigh of frustration. As soon as he did, though, he grabbed her hand before she could do any more. Harley then kneeled down in front of him. The Joker loosened his grip on her wrist and Harley yanked her hand away, settling both around his hips. His cock was hard and ready to be kissed. Harley looked up at the Joker, assuming to see a look of anger, but found nothing, just a blank look. Not for long, she thought as she took him into her, licking and sucking the sweet necter. His hips pressed it further into her mouth as he bucked against her. She was aware of his hands on the sides of her hair, pulling deliciously painful at her hair. Harleen glanced up at him, hoping to catch him with his shields down, but instead, saw Guy, with his head flung back and blood flowing out of the small wound in his neck. Harleen almost choked before she pulled away.

"Harley, what's going on?" the Joker asked, coming towards her.

Harley crab-walked backwards towards a corner. Through her eyes, she wasn't seeing or hearing the Joker, only Guy. "Stay away from me, Guy! I'm sorry, so sorry. Please don't hurt me." When her back touched the wall, she made the decision without hesitation as she threw herself out the window.

Funny. I never thought I would be the one throwing myself out a window. Harley fell until she thought she would never hit the bottom. But she did eventually, winding up in a garbage bin.

She laid for a second to catch her breath and then took off running down the alley. Behind her, the Joker was yelling at her to stop but she never even heard him. The path twisted and curved around building after building. Eventually, the streets became more congested with traffic and the sidewalks crowded with people. Harleen was aware of the stares passer-bys gave her but none of it mattered, not now. Her life was over. She gripped the gun, the one she had grabbed from the Joker's pants, tighter as she made her way to her destination.

The iron gates of Gotham Cemetery were closed and locked with chains and a big padlock when Harleen arrived there. She fingered the lock and gazed around until her eyes settled on the oak tree to her right. One of the branches was stretched out over the stone wall, surrounding the property. For the first time that day, Harleen smiled. Once up in the tree, Harleen walked across the branch, as if it was a balance beam. Nearing the end, she jumped once, then twice, before capitulating herself through the air as she twisted and flipped twice before landing.

"And the audience goes wild!" she yells in her best imitation of a sports announcer. Harleen faced the tombstones like an admiring crowd and bowed gracefully. "Thank you, thank you. Your too kind."

"Haaaarrrrleeeeey," a raspy voice called.

The crowd had stopped their applauding and Harley snapped back to the present. The sun was setting over the hill and the sun was turning in for the night, setting the sky ablaze with colors. Harley stood transfixed for a moment, losing herself in a memory. On their very last date, Guy had prepared a picnic for her in the park, where they could watch the sun set. Harleen blushed at the memory of how they had been caught fooling around by a campus security guard.

"Haaaarrrrleeeeey," the voice again tore her out of her dreams.

Harleen cocked the hammer of the gun. "I'm here, ghost." She made her way through the cemetery. Harleen hadn't gone to Guy's funeral, and she hadn't visited his grave since then. Why should she? She knew he was dead and not coming back. Or, at least that's what she thought until today. Harleen mulled over the possibilities as she wondered through the cemetery. There were so many graves. How was she going to find the right one? Finally, she grew impatient and screamed at the top of her lungs, "WHERE ARE YOU?"

Nothing. A light wind was blowing now and Harleen could see her breath as she breathed. During her search, the sun had gone down. The moon, she observed, wasn't quite full yet, but there was enough light to make out the names on each headstone. Just as she was beginning to give up hope, she found it. His parents were right beside him. A grandmother had raised Guy after his parents were killed in a car accident when he was a little kid. As far as she knew, Guy was the only child just like Harleen.

"WELL, I'M HERE! Now what?" she asked, suddenly unsure as she knelt down. Flowers had been left on the graves, but by who, Harleen didn't know.

She set the gun down besides her, so she could caress the grave like a lover. Tears began to blur her vision before slipping silently down her her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Guy. It shouldn't be you down there. It should be me. I'm so sorry." Over and over Harleen repeated this chant, laying her head to rest against the soft grass.

"Don't cry, my love. We'll be together soon."

Harley froze when she heard the familiar voice and felt the familiar touch on top of her head, stroking her hair. Her body started to shake uncontrollably with fear, and with her mouth suddenly dry, Harleen felt as if her mouth were full of cotton. She wet her lips quickly, trying not to scream. Inside, her mind was screaming at her to not look up. The impossibly cold hands had an iron tight grip on both of her wrists. She couldn't run but she could lift her head up and see who or what was holding her. What she saw caused her to scream over and over again until her voice was hoarse.

Her former lover had managed to dig himself out of his coffin and was now partially exposed from the head to upper torso region. "Hello, Harley. Did you miss me? I've missed you."

"No," Harleen cried shaking her head emphatically as well. "Let me go!" She began to try and pull away, but the decaying hands held her in place. In fact, they pulled her closer to her decaying lover. His skin was discolored and peeling off in places; his hair had grown down past his shoulders; and the stench of things Harleen rather not comprehend made her gag.

Harleen turned away as the corpse's black, swollen tongue tried to enter her mouth, but instead licked her cheeks for doggie-style kisses. Before everything went black, Harleen remembered hearing, "You'll never be alone again, Harley. I'll take care of you…forever."

"Forever," the voice had told her. Not Guy's sweet voice, but a different one. Something didn't sound right about the voice. Then she knew.

When she awoke, Harleen found herself being tied up inside a stone coffin, beside a rotting corpse. She stifled a scream as she concentrated on making her escape. The two thugs were easily distracted as she kicked one in the throat and the other in the head. They forgot all about securing her left hand, so Harleen freed the other one and climbed out of it, preparing to run. But a bullet caught her in the left leg, causing her to fall to the floor.

"Not so fast, Harley," a male voice called out from the darken tomb.

Harleen turned towards the sound and watched a figure emerge from the shadows. It wasn't the decomposing corpse of her former love, but it was Guy. He looked just the same as he did when they were in college. But how could this be possible?

"You big faker! Who are you?" Harleen asked as she slowly rose to her feet. The bullet had grazed her left thigh, but there was some blood. She kept a hand pressed over the wound and leaned heavily on her right leg, so her attacker wouldn't be suspicious.

The imposter laughed. "How did you know? Oh well, it doesn't really matter. Boys," he commanded them with the wave of his still smoking gun. "Don't struggle Harley Quinn. I would hate to shoot you in your other leg also."

Harleen could feel her face stretch into a tight smile. "Don't worry you won't have to. I surrender." She threw up her hands. But as the two goons neared, Harleen attacked. The first was easy: she used the casket as a balancing beam and launched herself into a series of flips, ending up behind him. First a kick to his right knee to bring him down and then with a quick snap, she broke his neck. Using the dead man's body as a shield, she fired his gun and killed his companion. Now, there was only two.

"One more time," she said, discarding the dead man's corpse. Harleen leveled the gun at the remaining man's head. "Guy never called me 'Harley'. So, who-the-hell-are-you?" She cocked the gun's hammer back. The click of it settling in position echoed throughout the crypt.

He sighed. "I guess, Guy never told you about me." Obviously, he saw her confusion because he added, "I'm Guy's brother. Twin brother."

"Twin brother? You've got to be joking."

"Do you see me laughing?" He raised his free hand in a sign of surrender and then lowered the gun towards the floor. "After our parents we're killed, our grandmother was only allowed to keep one of us. She chose Guy, and the state took me away and put me in a foster home. The people were nice enough and I remained with them until I graduated from high school. I became a successful businessman, but I wasn't happy. I always wondered what happened to my brother. One day, I just decided to find him through a detective agency. But they found him too late. You…"

"So, you thought I killed him and decided to seek revenge on me." Harleen shook her head. "Maybe you're right, only half right though. But how did you know where I would be? You had to have time to set the graveyard scam up, didn't you?"

For the first time tonight, she heard him laugh and it was a terrible thing that made her entire body shake. "Whatever you saw or heard in the graveyard is the same thing that brought you to the graveyard—you're guilt over killing my brother. And you're fear. You had to make sure he was dead, am I right? You had to make sure he was in the ground, rotting away and being fed off of by the worms."

"Am I right?" he sneered at her. He lowered his hands as he slowly approached her.

"No! You're wrong. I tried to stop him." As the words spilled out her, her vision became blurred and the tears started to fall down her cheeks. She could no longer see Guy's brother, nor what he was reaching for behind his back.

"Harley Quinn, you're a monster that could never be loved. Whatever my bother saw in you was all an act, an illusion. You were using him just as you use the Joker."

"Noooo," she wailed, falling to her knees. He could barely hear her next words, "You're wrong. I loved him."

Guy's brother pulled out his second gun, a silencer; that he had hidden under his jacket. "How could you ever love anyone? You're a monster that Batman should have killed a long time ago, now I'm going to do it." He raised the gun to her bowed head and prepared to fire it.

"Stop!" a voice called out.

He turned towards the crypt's entryway and there stood Batman. "Too late." He was about to pull the trigger when something his hand, causing the gun to drop. Just as quick, Batman's sometimes partner, Batgirl, was upon him, pinning him to the floor. "SHE DESERVES TO DIE!"

"That is not up to you to decide," he said, gliding over to where Harley still sat crying softly. He looked down at the once feared criminal, now a seemingly broken doll. "I think you've done enough. Batgirl take him to Gordon and give him the tape. No doubt Arkham has already called him about the Scarecrow's return."

Batgirl nodded, pushing the handcuffed man out of the door. "Se ya later, partner."

Glancing around, Batman went from body to body, checking for a pulse. Finding none, he returned to Harley and knelt down in front of her. "Harley, can you hear me? Snap out of it, Harley. He's gone."

She wiped her running nose on the sleeve of her sweater before looking up. "Yeah, I know. Are you taking me back to Arkham now?"

"No, I'm taking you the police station to fill out a police report. Then I'll take you someplace you can rest and get your wounds tended to. That is, if you want me to?"

With his help, Harleen was able to stand up. As they started to walk out, she stopped him and said, "I don't know whether to give you a kiss or hit you for stopping him."

"You can decide in the morning. Let's get out of here."