Author's note: My other story "Go Home" is kind of a prequel to this and tells the full backstory.
This story is based on Harley's and Joker's relationship as portrayed in Suicide Squad. Based on Margot Robbie's Harley Quinn and Jared Leto's Joker.

Life and Death

Chapter 1

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The Joker was there in the dark room, next to her on the bed. He watched as she brought the pill past her chapped lips and it melted on her tongue.

"Do you feel it?" he asked, a glimpse of something malevolent in his eyes. "I can hear them, emerging…"

He suddenly grinned, a hint of anticipation flashing in his eyes. Harley reached up and touched his face, he was real. She tiredly smiled back at him, and his lips stretched wider, his teeth glinting in the dusk.

"I can't wait for you to wake up again."

She couldn't tear her gaze off his face, hardly comprehending how much she had missed him. "Really?"

"Yes," he purred, leaning down and pressing his lips roughly against hers.

The pill he had given her was effective; she was once again slipping into heavy darkness. She still heard his voice, laced with dark amusement.

"Your little friends say such... interesting things when you're asleep. I wish you could hear them, too."

"What?" she slurred, wondering what her voices had told him. Her vision was fading, she fell back into warm unconsciousness, but he was close to her, whispering in her ear.

"Baby's back."

.

She woke up by daylight filtering into the room from the heavy curtains. She had no idea how long she had been out and he was nowhere to be seen. Harley looked around, hazily, her entire body stiff from being immobile for so long.

In the bed, among the messy sheets were some strange garments. She slowly sat up.

The Joker had kept many things that he had collected in her absence while she was in prison. She had noticed the large amounts of photos and newspaper articles of her that he kept lying around. It was one of the things she found most flattering; she loved his serial killer streak. She smiled to herself.

Beside her on the pillow, someone had placed a pair of baby onesies, one pink and one purple. Harley took one of the suits and held it towards the light. It would fit a small infant.

The realization that had been kept from her by her own treacherous mind came over her.

Tears filled her eyes, as her smile grew wider.

Every time the voices in her head started making noise, bringing the memories back, he gave her the pills. He always had them ready, wherever they went.

Since Baby's voice disappeared, the other ones with Harleen in the front line had been trying to fill that space. They never had a chance to get to her anymore, he held them back. That was the reason he had kept her in the safe house recently, so he wouldn't have to drag her back later when the pills kicked in.

There was no point in trying to resist; her body was aching for the relief and his hands were unrelenting. If she put up a fight he would push her down, slipping them in her mouth. And just like that, she was in the nothingness again. She knew she must go deeper, reach the final step of freedom, break her mind and turn it inside out all over again.

Harley floated freely and danced in the sky, her body resting in drug-induced comatose, the voices drowned one by one.

He was stronger than her demons; he had always been. He got more and more acquainted with them, just for fun. Sometimes he sat with her and listened to everything her mind babbled about. Harley liked it, knowing it was another way for them to be close. When she woke up, everything was hazy, but she was in control again. He loved to see her wake up, none of them ever knowing which version of her would appear. She would be new, exciting again.

But she was always one step behind; her subconscious mind had caught up long before her body reacted. Before her hormones had a chance to catch on, the voices had told him.

Of course, he always had a plan. She always followed along with whatever he came up with; heist or escape plan, she didn't have a clue, and she never worried about a thing. There was no need to plan or analyze, because life was fun and fast and Mr. J was hers.

.

Harley woke up after another two days of being in the nothingness. She ached to get out on the streets again, to wreak havoc and play. She stretched out her limbs, impatient to get dressed up and shower when she saw him.

Standing with his back against her in the far end of the bedroom, his silhouette was refined in the light coming from the large windows. Her gaze followed the curve of his back, the shirt that clung tightly to it, the fabric straining over his muscles. The familiar sound of him sharpening knives and arranging them filled the room and it soothed her.

Harley moved her messy hair out of her face, still not sure where she had been before the last pills, floating in and out of a dream. The world was silent, and it was nice.

Then, she remembered the small clothes he had placed by her bedside a few weeks earlier. It had twisted and touched her, no matter what it meant. Her hands moved down to the skin below her naval, following the twirls of the 'Lucky You' tattoo. She smiled to herself, a sense of pride swelling in her chest.

Mistah J's baby.

He turned around when he heard her. He looked more deranged than usual, darker shadows underneath his eyes. There was a glimpse of something in his eyes that she recognized: he was restless, he needed a new game. Poor Puddin', waiting for her every day and night. She wanted to join him tonight, play their favorite game, make him laugh again. She missed the gleam of true glee in his eyes.

He approached her, his favorite knife in his hand. She reached up to kiss him, but the look on his face made her hold back the smooching. He stood beside the bed where she sat with crossed legs.

She knew she looked terrible; messy hair around her face and wearing the same clothes she had slept in for days on end. She wanted to get up and change, but then again, he looked like he wasn't going to let her leave the room.

The madness in his eyes made them so much clearer. He was calculating, she knew. His free hand reached out to cup her chin and she leaned into his touch.

"It's harder to live than to die," he said matter-of-factly, reminding her of his strange seriousness during their chemical reunion.

"Death is just a play, the final act. It's so easy." He flashed his trademark grin, his thumb caressing his knife. She remembered all the faces he had cut up with it, how he made them smile.

His gaze was once again unpredictable, moving down to her abdomen. Harley felt a sudden surge of discomfort. Something made her want to pull back, to put her hands in front of her body.

"You said you would live for me," the Joker drawled. One of his pale, bony hands placed on her belly. "You made an oath... for life and death."

Harley leaned in with a grin. "Ride or die."

His gaze was hard and set on her, a familiar look on his face. Harley's breath hitched slightly. Her hands instinctively moved down, placing on top of his. "Puddin'?"

She waited, never fearing for herself, but suddenly fearing for something else.

But he was the only one who mattered, and she didn't pull back.

"Are you ready to play that game?" He gave her a wry smile, moving his hand from her belly to the knife. He toyed with the edge, his fingers dancing across the blade. "Do you want this?"

She looked up at him, suddenly angry. "I want our baby, Puddin'!"

His face was only inches away from hers. She stared into his eyes, fearless and joyful.

"Who do you live for?"

"My dying corpse will follow you around, Puddin', ya know that. I'm yours."

He sat down in front of her on the bed. His knife sliced her shirt up, just barely grazing her light skin. She smiled, trusting, waiting as the blade of his knife traveled over her heart, down in a straight line without drawing blood, down to her groin.

She winced in excitement, feeling the cold metal against her bare skin, squirming a little at the sensation. "Puddin'..."

"No more pills for you," he said as his free hand explored her chest, dipping down to her naval. His palm came to rest on her belly.

She wrapped her arms tight around his neck with a force that almost made them topple over, kissing him hard. "Our own little monster," she grinned at him. "Ain't we gonna have so much fun?"

He started laughing, and she knew that sound. She laughed with him when he pushed her down into the bed, and their shrill voices bounced off the walls.