Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Batman. I wish I did. It would be awesome.

Just a little one-shot to feed my own addiction.

Harleen had cried when they took him away. She had walked alongside the gurney in her impractical heels, with her ridiculous glasses slipping down her nose and had ignored all the stares. She pretended not to see the restraints that held him down or the bruises that formed on his face with every step – his last gift from the ruin they pulled him from.

She had seen it coming. The peroxide in her hair and twang in her voice had convinced most that she was ditsy and to be dismissed, but Harleen had seen what they could not. She had seen Armageddon approaching and had been frozen in place. Stuck in her motions, she had shown the police in – taken them to the basement when they asked – given up Crane by purposeful accident.

The ambulance doors had shut on her, leaving the Queen to her empire as they carried away the King. Harleen had never seen the soft smile that crossed the face of her disgraced employer.

Deep in the damp and cobwebbed basement of Arkham Asylum, the Bat was trapped. Defeated.

Harleen Quinzel had set the Scarecrow free.