Welcome back to the Reflection Series! If you are a new reader, I would encourage you to go back and read the previous parts before starting on this one. If you enjoy any of my stories, please give me a comment so I know! Thank you and enjoy!

July 9, 10:43 AM

H: Daddy, I think I'm coming down with something.

J: What do you want me to do about it?

H: Can u bring me some soup?? The kind I like from that place. ;-)

J: Tell one of the guys to get it for you. I'm busy.

H: It tastes better when u get it.

July 9, 12:24 PM

J: What place?

H: The one at the corner of Kendall and Washington. The chicken and rice one. Thx.

The Joker sat in the backseat of an old Lincoln with tinted windows as he waited for Marty to run in and get Harley's soup. He reflected on how his life ended up this way. He was a ruthless killer, the most feared man in Gotham, and now look at him, he was leaving a meeting with his associates and picking up chicken soup for his sick wife. He was whipped.

"Got the soup, boss. Are we bringing it to Ms Quinn now?"

"Yeah, Marty, but we aren't staying. I have stuff to do."

The two drove back to the abandoned duplex they moved to soon after their wedding. Harley and The Joker lived in one side and all the henchmen occupied the other.

The house was quiet aside from the occasional creak or moan from the old architecture. His heavy step made the staircase squeak as he made his way upstairs to the room they shared. She wasn't in bed where he expected.

"Harl! Soup's here! Where are you?"

"In here.", the small voice came from the attached bathroom.

"Hurry up would ya. I got things to do."

"Just a minute, Pud'."

He leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. He heard the toilet flush and the sink run. She came out of the bathroom looking pale. She was just wearing an oversized t-shirt that said "Girls Rule, Boys Drool" and panties.

"I think I have a fever.", she said weakly as she eyed the bed.

He walked over to her and felt her forehead. "Feels fine to me, baby." He led her to the bed and she got in. He brought her the bag with the soup and spoon. She looked exhausted.

He gave her a side glance. "Are you going to, uh, be okay by yourself?"

She looked up to him as she adjusted her blankets with tears threatening to spill. "Oh, I'm sure I'll be fine, Mista J. You're a busy man and I've already asked for enough." She brought her balled up hands to her eyes and let out a high pitched sob.

He rolled his eyes and put out his cigarette. Sitting on the bed he said, "Come here, honey." He held out his arms and she scrambled to him. "What's wrong? Tell Daddy where it hurts."

"I just feel awful. I'm exhausted and my stomach has been so sensitive. I was just barfing my brains out. I feel like crap. And, and I'm exhausted." She burrowed her face in his warm neck, soaking up his pity for her.

"Yeah, you, uh, said that.", he chuckled.

The sobbing returned.

"It's fine, Harl. I'll rescheduled some things till tomorrow. I'll just do some work in my office while you rest."

"Really? You'd do that for me?" She looked up at her husband adoringly.

"Anything for you, babydoll."

The Joker worked in his office for the rest of the afternoon. He hadn't had an entire room to himself since before Harley. He planned on staying in the duplex as long as they could. It was a good setup.

He walked past the bedroom a few times to get some coffee from the kitchen and peered in to find her sleeping. With an unusual amount of free time on his hands he rummaged through the fridge to find something to eat. There was some frozen fish with easy enough instructions. He heated the oven and tossed the filets inside. He smoked and read the newspaper while his dinner baked. When the timer went off he plated his meal and brought it back up to his office.

"What's that disgusting smell?", Harley shrieked as he walked by. He stopped and looked in at her as he held the dish. She suddenly ran to the bathroom and threw up again.

He looked to the ceiling in thought and then continued to his office. He had a hard time concentrating on his work for the rest of the evening.

He made it to bed early in the morning and Harley slept like a rock next to him. He woke up to her getting sick in the bathroom again. The answer was finally solidified in his mind. He knew what was really wrong with her and it made his blood boil. He stormed to the bathroom and threw the door open to see her kneeling next to the toilet. She looked up at his piercing eyes as sweat formed on her brow. She was about to ask him what was wrong, but he cut her off.

"Get rid of it!", he said angrily through clenched teeth.

"Huh? What do you mean?", she said genuinely confused.

He pointed at her abdomen, "I don't care how you do it. Just get rid of it now!", he turned and slammed the door on his way out, making the contents of the medicine cabinet rattle. He muttered incoherently to himself as he got dressed and left the house.

Harley sat against the tub and rested her head in her hands. "What was he talking about?", she asked herself. "Get rid of what?"