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She hears him before she sees him. She'd recognize that laugh anywhere. Harley grips her shot glass tightly and tells herself not to look. He's not real. This isn't the first time she's hallucinated Joker.
Next to her, out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rick turn to look over his shoulder. He rests his hand on her lower back and says, “We should leave.”
Oh fuck. This isn't a hallucination. Harley feels like she's gonna puke. And she's not even that drunk!
Against her better judgement, and Rick's protests, she turns to look when she hears another laugh—this one higher pitched. The sight before her is even worse than she could have imagined. Joker's there, schmoozing with some up and coming crime boss—but he's not alone. The girl he's with can't be older than twenty-one—practically a baby. Her heart sinks as she sees the look of complete adoration on the other girl's face. A look Harley knows well. A part of her is upset that she's been replaced and the other part is absolutely disgusted she even had that thought.
She has to get out of here. She makes a beeline for the back door of the club and vaguely registers Rick getting up to follow her. She suddenly feels lightheaded and can feel herself falling, but a strong pair of arms catch her.
Rick holds her close and tells her, “Harls, I need you to breathe.”
Oh. She's hyperventilating. That explains a lot. He rubs her back gently and just keeps encouraging her to take deep breaths. Harley clings to him tightly and squeezes her eyes shut. The cold night air is a sharp contrast to the warmth of Rick's embrace, and it helps ground her. She always feels so safe with him—she can't get enough of that feeling.
Harley knows she's more than capable of taking care of herself—she'd proven that several times over in Corto Maltese. But dammit, it's nice being able to be vulnerable with someone. Someone who's kind and gentle and patient with her. Someone who never judges her and is helping her heal. She never thought she'd say this but Rick Flag almost makes her feel sane again.
She's not sure how much time passes but eventually her breathing and heartrate go back to normal. Rick pulls back from the hug to look into her eyes. “You doin' okay?”
She sighs and replies honestly. “No, not really.” She absent-mindedly toys with the collar of his t-shirt. “Can we just go home?” She hates how small her voice sounds.
He kisses her forehead. “Of course. Let me just close out our tab.”
He disappears inside the club again and Harley leans against the brick wall to wait for him. She's suddenly exhausted and cuddling on the couch and watching cheesy horror movies sounds like heaven right now.
She's distracted by her phone when she hears from beside her, “Hello Harley.”
Her back stiffens. She'd recognize that voice anywhere. She scowls and doesn't turn to look as she says, “See you managed to find some other poor girl to abuse.”
With the club being as busy as it is, it takes way longer than it should to pay for their drinks. But eventually Rick is tucking his card back into his wallet and heading to the back door. He's worried about Harley. She's the strongest person he's ever met and more than capable of taking care of herself—but she's also been deeply traumatized. She's only recently started to unpack all of it—and Rick's been with her every step of the way.
He pauses when he gets to the open door. The Joker managed to find Harley and Rick's blood boils seeing the bastard getting up in her space. His hand rests on the gun he keeps on him at all times, but he doesn't interrupt—not yet anyway.
“Remember,” he hears Joker say in Harley's ear. “No one will ever love you as much as I do.”
Oh fuck that. It's taken Rick months to convince Harley that he's never going to abandon her and he'll be damned if he lets this bastard undo all of that hard work.
Before he can intervene, Harley yells “Fuck you!” and punches the Joker, directly in the face. Blood spurts from his nose and he grins in a way that can only be described as unhinged. And then he starts laughing. Okay, that's enough.
Rick steps in between the two and points his gun at the other man's chest. “That,” he says, “is a gun. And I will not hesitate to pull this trigger if you don't step the fuck away from her.”
He's several inches taller than Joker and he uses it to his advantage. He looms over the clown prince of crime and looks menacingly down at him—jabbing the barrel of his gun into his ribs. This asshole doesn't scare him and he can tell that Joker knows that. He has no power here. Unlike Batman, Rick Flag doesn't have a moral code against killing or seriously maiming people—especially when it comes to abusive dickwads like this one.
After several seconds of silence, Joker holds his hands up in mock surrender and backs away slowly. Rick doesn't take his eyes—or gun—off of him until he gets to the door. But the bastard just can't resist getting one more jab in at Harley. “I see you still need someone to rescue you.”
Harley's shoulders slump the second he's out of their sight. “He's right,” she says pathetically.
Rick gathers her up in his arms and kisses the top of her head. “Listen to me, Harls. You're the strongest person I've met and you don't need anyone to rescue you. I'm just here to be your backup.”
She looks up at him. “You really mean that?”
He kisses her temple. “I do.”
She smiles and then nuzzles her face into his neck. He rests his head on hers and rubs her back gently. “Also, you know he was lying, right?”
“About what?” she says distractedly, kissing his neck softly.
“I'm not going anywhere, you're stuck with me.”
That gets a genuine laugh out of her and she pulls back so she can kiss him properly.
He kisses her back and then rests his forehead against hers. “C'mon, let's go home. You get to pick the first movie.”
She claps her hands excitedly. “Oh, I know the perfect one!”
He throws his arm around her shoulders and leads her towards their apartment fives blocks away—listening to her chattering away intently the whole way home.