Chapter Text
She knows what they're saying: "If you want a good look at what you're not getting, I'd suggest you come up with something juicy to take to the new boss."
So they do.
"The new recruits are in," one says and leers. Harley's fingertips dig harder into the grainy floorboards. She won't cover herself.
"Great!" Christina's hands clap in excitement. "Make sure the camera's on their faces when you hand out their welcoming presents. I want to see their surprise, hah. I'll talk to the survivors later. If there are any."
Chilling laughter and pats on the head. Harley's eyes flutter. Takes her mind off wondering whether the guys are turned on seeing their former boss lady brought down like this; whether they've fantasized about doing the same – either making Harley submit, or kneeling at Christina's feet themselves.
"Boss, the Batkid's been..." another thug falters when he spots Harley.
"Robin?" Christina thunders and her fingers twist into Harley's hair. "Bring me that interfering goose-brained brat. I'd prefer him alive so I can skin him myself, but no need to be gentle. He deserves everything that's coming to him."
Near-blinding pain sears Harley's scalp and jolts down to her navel. For a paralyzed moment, every fibre in her body aches. One clothespin after the other snaps from the taut skin of her arms. Christina's displeasure is fixated on the monitors instead of Harley, who destroyed the art project Christina's turned her into.
If that's her punishment, it couldn't sting any worse.