Oh my. Words can't describe the regret, remorse, sadness and general guilt I feel for this. I haven't uploaded since April 19th. That's just over two whole months. I'm so sorry! I took my final exams this year, and as a result, studying took over and I couldn't get the last chapter written. I am sorry for bringing this to you so late, and I hope you don't hate me too much!

This is, after all, the final chapter...

Chapter 22: There's A Fine Line Between Love And Hate

"You know," Lucas croaked, voice husky with pain and low with sedatives, "You're a goddamn witch." I smiled at the insult, and realised I wasn't meant to take it as a compliment. The realisation did nothing to lessen my amusement.

"The accusation wouldn't surprise me per se, but why in particular did it cross your mind?"

"You was acting like such a brat yesterday. Bill didn't say one word after you gave him his orders," he said, as he hissed. I swabbed at yet another infected gash on his forearm, the unsightly colours weeping from the skin to meld with his blood, like a sickly drink. I smiled viciously when I swabbed extra hard at the wound, making him yelp beneath my grip.

"Sit still, wuss!" I said, as I wrung out the flannel I was using, dipped it in more disinfectant and began working on a new injury. "Anyway, I didn't mean to come out so spoilt yesterday. Call it… I dunno. Call it the overwhelming effect power has on me." I shrugged.

He laughed without humour, shaking his head in disgust. I cocked an eyebrow- he was certainly playing with fire, looking down on me when the situation was in fact reversed. I was willing to play the game, but I wasn't sure he was willing. It'd be at the expense of his life, after all.

"Why are you looking after me anyways?"

"Because I felt guilty, Lucas. Bill really cares for you, and I know that if I were in his position, and Mr J was in yours, I would want someone to care for him how I would do it." I studied his expression, and at last saw the dissolve of his contempt, his features softening, wrinkles smoothing just a tad. He looked older than usual, his true image breaking through the image he'd painted for himself, the image of cruelty, of harshness. It was a farce. What is it with people around here and farces? Is the truth really so hard to cope with? I wondered, shaking my head softly.

"Are you saying that Bill and me are, y'know…?" He tested, interrupting my curious thoughts.

"Please. Spare yourself the embarrassment. Ya know exactly what I mean when I say that." I snorted, standing up from my perch on the stall and circling him to treat the set of injuries he'd received to his back. He huffed but said nothing, and I allowed the awkward silence to build until it was tangible in the air, a dark mist that laid over us like a veil. At last, he permeated the veil he'd created, with a gruff clearing of his throat and a quieter tone- it was a major indication that whatever he was about to say would be personal, either for him, or perhaps for me. The latter was proved to be right.

"What's the deal with you and the boss anyway? Sometimes I can't tell if he loves you or wants to kill you." I smirked at that- that was the kind of relationship I had always admired. There was something rewarding about know that someone who only ever wants to kill everyone possibly felt something other than homicidal tendencies for you. The sensation of having him grip my neck and never being sure if he was going to snap it or pull me into another fiery kiss using it was the most thrilling sensation of all.

"Hah. Well, you know him… it's all black and grey with that man. I love him, and I like to think he loves me, too." Lucas said nothing, and I wondered if he was considering my words, or just not interested.

"Why?" He finally asked.

"Why what?" I snapped, as if he'd asked an incredibly stupid question. Which, in my opinion, he had.

"Why do you love him? I mean, a normal person's reaction to treating a psychopathic mass murderer isn't to fall in love with 'em."

"Maybe I'm not a normal person," I reflected dreamily, feeling my eyes glaze over as I churned out a brief introspection. "It makes sense, I guess. I always knew somethin' was up with me."

"What's that s'posed to mean?" My lips twitched upwards into another smirk as I noticed that with pain and weariness, he stopped trying to fight his casual accent, meaning that his words were returning to their usual state of slang. I felt a pang of endearment, and shook it off- he was my peer, not my son, for Christ's sake. Knock it off, Harl. Don't get attached to 'em. Remember Jordan? I brushed away the memories of the more innocent of the men, and cleared my throat.

"Childhood stuff, I guess. The traits I show now have always been there, I just used to be a very good actress; even managed to fool myself for a while."

"What happened in your goddamn life to rationalise why you'd fall for someone like The Joker?!" He sneered, incredulous. I felt an indignant flicker in my chest, and I puffed up, slapping him around the back of the head with the damp flannel. He frowned, but pride surged through me when I noticed a small glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"You wanna know? Fine. It's the typical cliché sob story- I was the last in the line of my four other sisters, and I was five years younger than the youngest of 'em. My mother died givin' me life, and so naturally my pops blamed me for her death. The guy went coo-coo, Lukey-"

"-Don't call me Lukey-"

"-Whatever… Lukey. Anywho, where was I? Oh yeah. My ol' man. He divided his attention into five parts; my sisters Primrose, Violet, Rosie and Tulip, and his work. I never got any attention- he did everything he could to make sure I got none of it, actually. Notice how he named my sisters after flowers? All elegant, pretty, beautiful- but he named me after the first object he saw, which happened 'ta be a Harley Davidson parked outside the hospital window. So my… issues probably boil down to craving attention."

"So, one psycho gives you a hint of attention, and you…?"

"Fall in love. Yeah, but there's things about The Joker I have learned that you wouldn't believe. There's more to him than meets the eyes, y'know." I finished, pulling back to admire my handiwork. Although his deathly pale pallour contrasted against the dark rings under his eyes, and he looked severely injured still, he looked like he'd live. I nodded in pride, and then widened my eyes to the sound of the metal door creaking open, the steady stalks of squeaky shoes on the concrete floor. Only one person dared to stride around the warehouse with such power, such confidence.

Shit, I cursed internally. I didn't want him to see me doing this.

"Say, whatcha doin', Harl?" He said, his voice sickly sweet, an undertone as vicious and promisingly evil as he could muster. The extra pronunciation on my name guaranteed that I was in deep trouble. I shrunk back, hiding the worn flannel behind my back. I snorted- like that would save my ass. Lucas grumbled something in Russian, and I blinked, squaring my shoulders.

The observational skills I'd acquired as a psychiatrist had certainly paid off in Mr. J's company- I'd learnt how best to please him, to sate his rage, to survive around him.

"Helpin' Lucas, s-sir,"I replied, holding out on offering an explanation. If he wanted one, he'd demand it. I used "sir" both because it stirred the darkest corner of my mind, spurring thoughts of lust- it turned out authority had an effect on me that reached even the bedroom- and because I knew it would please him. He practically fed on power, and so by giving him the appearance of having even more, I figured the likelihood of me surviving this encounter with a few scratches here and there was increased.

"Now, why-oh-why would my little pumpkin do that?" He growled, the sweet tone quickly darkening, the undertone taking over. Forbidden, delicious shivers rolled over my form, as The Joker finally came to a stop right before me, his entire body only inches from mine.

I'm so screwed.

"Well, you see Mr. J, Lucas is one of the best, and I don't seen no sense in wasting perfectly good-"

"- So you really are pulling rank. Now also determining the very lives of my own men." The Joker interrupted, cocking an eyebrow. The impending sense of danger made my fingertips tingle, my hair beginning to stand on end. The tension was swarming around me, slicing through the air until it almost constricted my breathing.

"I thought you were okay with it!" I insisted, immediately regretting the childish whine that escaped my words.

The Joker snarled as he backhanded me across the face, sending me backwards a few steps. I cried out in surprise but bit my tongue, refusing to say anything else. Response was a weakness in this case, a weakness I couldn't afford to show. Perhaps if I proved to him for once that I could stand up to him, he'd respect me, I reasoned. The moment the thought clicked in my brain, I knew it was the stupidest decision I'd ever made, but the compelling desire to be seen with respect by the man I loved was too strong to resist. My brain screamed refusal as I took a deep breath and fixed my eyes with The Joker. This alone seemed to briefly stun him, and he stood back up straight, watching with cold patience as he knew I was about to launch an attack somehow.

"Ya know what, Mr. J? You're so damn confusin' all the time! One day you're wanting this, the next day the opposite- it's impossible to keep up! I know you're not one for sticking to one decision, but couldya at least try, just once, for me?!" I exclaimed, taking a step forward, fighting to keep the wavering from my voice. A flame of indignation seared through his gaze, and at that moment, I resigned to my fate, certain that the path I had chosen to tread was to imminently lead to my demise. And yet I couldn't bring myself to stop him.

"I believed in you. From the moment I laid eyes on you in that office, I believed that you, of all the useless broads that walk the Earth, would manage to have me sussed. I thought you understood me, Harley. I was wrong." He said, feigning disappointment. He couldn't be more obvious- his manipulation was usually so much better, so much more subtle. I narrowed my eyes.

"Really? You're sure doin' a fine job of showin' me no respect for that belief you got in me. I broke you outta Arkham! I'm trying to fetch ya help from Arkham now by bossin' about your useless boys! I do everythin' for ya, and you repay me with nothin'. Nothin'!" I insisted. The Joker's emerald gaze turned steely, and I gritted my teeth. He grabbed me by the neck and pulled me forward, so my chest collided with his. I squeaked as my supply of air cut off, and he grinned maliciously as his free hand glided up my side, curling around my arm and locking to it, the blood vessels bursting beneath his cruel, agonising touch. My eyes desperately searched his, although I didn't know what they were looking for. Remorse, maybe?

However, it wasn't remorse I found. Neither was it real fury- I'd seen him furious before, and this wasn't furious. This was another level of feigning, and it took me by surprise. The glint in his eye told me that actually, he was enjoying this. Enjoying my pathetic defiance. I knew he wouldn't be affected by it in any way that would benefit his level of respect for me, but still I had held onto that faint glimmer of hope, the flame that was now dulling, settling in my chest, replaced with cool fear and curiosity over what he was planning on doing now.

"You're useless," he hissed. "Weak. Pathetic. I'm the bird, and you're the worm, desperately trying to crawl away from my power even though you know in the end you will always succumb, always submit to me." My body disobeyed my disgruntlement, and I found myself heating up to his words, in all the wrong ways. I still couldn't believe the sometimes disgusting, usually shocking things that were being added every day to the list of things that turned me on. Since when had I become so lustful?

"It's your nature, doll. You'll always be this way. Don't fight it, pet; it has its own rewards. I can see you're already benefitting some of that right now," he growled. I flushed scarlet at his observation, forever angry at my body for not being able to better conceal its reactions. I said nothing, waiting patiently for him to do his willing. He seemed hesitant, undecided- and I felt once again on the brink, between life and death. Fuck or fight.

However, at that moment, the front door burst open. The Joker's grip loosened enough on my neck for me to turn my head to watch the door, confusion furrowing my eyebrows. From my peripheral, I could see that The Joker was also curious- we both knew that this wasn't the way any of the henchmen opened the door. They didn't have that confidence, that authority.

Stood in the doorway was someone I at last recognised, and I almost spluttered in surprise. They did it. They actually managed to acquire Pamela from her imprisonment. And boy, did she look furious. I wondered what her problem was, but didn't have much time to think, before I screamed as I felt a strange, rubbery substance wrap around me, like hosepipes. They curled around my waist, my thighs, my arms. They pulled me harshly away from my Joker, and I cried out to him.

He looked stunned, but then relaxed a little, intent to watch me as I was flung away and released by the mysterious objects, allowing me to crash into the wall, sliding down it and landing in a heap on the floor. I coughed as the air finally returned to me, and managed to crawl forward until I knelt, my eyesight focusing again after the painful blow I took to the head. It was then that I then noticed that the tendrils that had gripped me were the large thick stems of the plants that had been growing along the walls of the warehouse.

"Wait, how the fuck…?" I trailed off, wondering how they'd gained a life of their own, and moved. I looked back to Pamela, and noticed that she was radiating a rich green aura, like mist that surrounded her form. Her red hair had been released from the thresholds of the hair ties that Arkham had forced her to wear, and she looked healthier. And still angry, but with a tinge of concern framing the corners of her eyes. She padded closer, ignoring the protests of the henchmen that trailed behind her.

"I'm sorry Harleen, but the clown-" I shook my head, waving away the apology.

"-Me? I'm dandy, don'tcha worry. And call me Harley; it's Harley Quinn now," I explained. "And can I just say how good it is to finally understand why the doctors are so scared of ya? I never knew about… the plant thing…" I said meekly, brushing the dust off as I watched the plants slither over to Pamela. One tendril of the plant rose off of the ground, its tip bringing itself up to meet Ivy's finger. When the two touched, a beautiful red rose with black tinges around the petal's edges bloomed instantly. She picked it off and then handed it to me, and I couldn't supress a blush. I hadn't received a flower since The Joker had done so, all those months ago. It was only on that realisation that I remembered that he had been very silent.

"If you two are done flirting, then Ivy, I believe-" The Joker began, but was interrupted by himself with his yelp of pain when those same plants whipped at him, knocking him off his feet. He yelled in surprise as the plants surrounded him, lifting him up and then throwing him to another wall. I cried out in fear for him as he was thrown around by the plants.

"Pamela! Pamela please-"

"- Harley, this man is dangerous. He must be stopped at-" I interrupted her, launching myself at her body with all the force I could muster. Pamela cried out in surprise as I knocked her off her feet, landing on top. I pinned her wrists down, and smirked in triumph as the plants relented from Mr. J. I laughed in Pamela's face, and she pouted, but I didn't miss the blush that stained her pale cheeks.

"Don't touch my boyfriend." I growled, before releasing her, moving from pinning her down to simply straddling her stomach. Pamela's eyes widened.

"Did you say boyfriend? You're his- his girlfriend?!" Her incredulous tone made the smirk stay put, and I nodded before clambering off, pulling her to her feet, with just enough force to remain a threat.

"Right-a-rooney! Have been for a while, too." Her eyebrow rose in surprise, and then a faint look of disgust crept onto her features.

"There's a mental image I didn't need to see. Anyway, don't call me Pamela. My name's Ivy. Poison Ivy." Despite her introduction, I remembered the first conversation we'd had, back at Arkham. She had implored me to call her Red, saying she'd liked the nickname but no one used it for her.

"Cool thing, Red. Anywho, what puddin' was trying to tell ya- before you so rudely interrupted- was that we need your help." As I said so, I winked to her when her eyes lit up at my nickname for her, and then skipped over to help Mr. J up, who still lay on the ground, looking both disdainful and grumpy. He let me help him, and then slapped my hands away, brushing himself off as he muttered something that promised revenge.

"You need my help?" Ivy asked. I gestured softly to The Joker, not wanting to undermine his authority. Given what the last ten minutes had been over, I didn't want to test any more boundaries for a while.

"That's what Harley said, isn't it?" He snapped, rubbing the base of his back as his lips curled. I sensed more wounds that I'd be tending to later on. Then again, the rewards for my care would be far sweeter…

"With what, exactly?" Ivy pushed, eyes narrowing as they darted between myself and my boyfriend. A dark, sinister smile began to play about over my lips, and I looked to The Joker, who also shared my grin, and shared the look. His gaze swivelled slowly from me back to Red, and then at last he spoke.

"We're going to tear Gotham apart." At that moment, a grin also spread across Ivy's lips, and the three of us realised that this was going to happen. And I would do it all by The Joker's side. He was right- he would always be the bird, and I would always be the worm, but I wouldn't have it any other way. He'd destroy me someday, and I relished the thought of falling apart at his expense, no matter the cost. I was his, and his alone, and together we were going to bring the world to its knees.

That's it! It's done! The Bird & The Worm is complete. For anyone who's wondering (assuming you still care, I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't after my atrocious absence!) there will be a sequel. Don't feel too unsatisfied with the ending; this is meant to be a semi-cliffhanger. The sequel will probably see their plan put in action, y'know, fresh meat (henchmen) and I might even get spicy with Joker and Harley's love life. We'll see!

However, for now, I'm going to be working on a Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes vampire fanfiction. If you like the idea, look out! It'll be coming your way soonish.

So long, goodnight friends. I love you all, and thank you for the kind words. They mean a lot to me.