Work Text:
Ivy prided herself on not needing help, not needing anyone. Perhaps that pride was foolish, perhaps it was stupid. Ivy…honestly didn’t care if it was stupid. She didn’t want to rely on people, not anymore. People were messy, they made mistakes, they let each other down. It was the part of herself she liked the least, that human part. Shame for her that was the part that needed people most.
She had been a teenager the first time they sent out for blood tests, finally understanding something was wrong. Rheumatoid Factor? Normal. HPV Screen? Negative. Anti-Nuclear Antibodies?
Moderate. Positive.
Sediment tests didn’t show a problem until she was twenty-one. They monitored until then, documented every patch of burning red across her skin. It would be fine, they told her. Normal onset wasn’t until her mid-thirties at least.
What a joke.
Ivy curled in, gritting her teeth as the pain in her shoulders flared, as the skin overtop screamed for her to itch at poisons that weren’t there, that were her. The mutations had only made it worse, flared her joints tender at the slightest temperature shift.
“Red?” Harley’s voice was tentative, her fingertips a gentle brush against her hair. Ivy shrank in more. The last thing she wanted was to feel like she needed Harley, to be another person Harley felt obligated to help. Not that Harley would heed any signals to stay back. She was like a songbird, endlessly drawn to signals that in any other situation would be a sign to stay back. Crane, Joker, hell, Ivy herself.
Harley slid onto the bed and hugged Ivy tightly.
“You need anything, Red?” she asked softly.
“No,” Ivy replied softly.
Harley hugged Ivy tighter and buried her face in Ivy’s neck. “New question, do you want anything?”
Want not need, she was doing that again. The psychology trick Harley used on everyone. If someone won’t tell her what’s wrong, what they need, she’ll simply reframe it. It’s not what they need, it’s what they want, because that’s clearly different.
Ivy sighed. She might as well humor her though, or Harley would mope.
“Green tea wouldn’t hurt,” she admitted.
“With peppermint?” Harley guessed.
“Mmhm,” Ivy hummed.
“Will do,” Harley pecked Ivy on the cheek and hopped from their bed. A moment later, a wet nose poked and prodded its way under Ivy’s arm, and she looked down to see the big watery eyes of Lou staring at her.
“Hey you,” Ivy rolled onto her back and Lou, ever happy to find a flat spot to lie down, stood and pawed about to get comfortable before curling into a circle against her side. Ivy scratched Lou behind one ear and leaned her head back.
She had fought, so hard, over the hyenas. They were wild animals, not meant at all for keeping as pets. Then she met them, and realized that something—she couldn’t quite tell what—had made these creatures a fairly toothless prospect, more ridiculous pitbulls that giggled instead of growling than hyenas. She’d asked around about it, and all she got was Crane suggesting something with splicing, that they weren’t full hyenas. It seemed possible, but even then Ivy wasn’t sure he was right.
“Lou!” Harley pouted as she popped back in, “That’s my spot!”
“You moved,” Ivy replied.
Harley gave a huge sigh and then tossed her head back and began whooping loudly, a high-pitched imitation of the noises Lou occasionally made. Lou lifted her head and chuffed back at Harley, clearly unimpressed. Harley chuffed back, and Lou shook out her head and let out a soft cackle. She set her head down and nuzzled her head against Ivy’s chest.
“Betrayal,” Harley pouted.
Ivy managed to smile, to laugh just a little, and scratched Lou behind the ear again. Lou grunted and nuzzled a little closer. Harley flopped on the bed next to them and combed her hand through Ivy’s hair.
“Bad day?” she guessed.
Ivy hummed in acknowledgment and set her mouth tightly.
“It’s okay to ask for help,” Harley said. “I’m here, and so’s Lou.”
“I don’t need help,” Ivy countered.
“Unfortunately, your white blood cells decided that’s not true,” Harley grinned. “And Lou knows you need help, don’t you Lou?”
Harley scratched Lou on the snout and she sniffed about it and shifted her head a little.
“Point is, I’d be doing this even if it was just a cold,” she went on. “You’re not feeling good so I’m gonna help you. You do it for me.”
Ivy smiled and leaned towards Harley, who happily leaned over to press her forehead against hers. Just in the gentle calm of their silence, Ivy couldn’t feel anything worse.
“Do you need anything?” Harley asked softly.
“I need you to stay,” Ivy whispered.
“Then I’ll stay,” Harley promised. Then, after a pause, added in a soft whisper, “Can I still go make you that cup of tea?”
Ivy laughed and nodded, “Yeah.”