It had taken her months to find out what the Batman had done with the Joker’s body after the failed plan to return it to her. Being shipped off to Arkham yet again, most of her time had been devoted to finding a way out of the asylum before the doctors could discover she was pregnant. And even once she was free, she’d been too focussed on laying low to safely give birth to even think about hunting down anyone who might have known about that could have happened to her beloved’s body.

It had only been recently, now that Lucy was safely living with her sister away from everything of her mother’s criminal lifestyle, that she’d been able to properly start to find out what had happened to her dear Joker. She’d suspected, for the longest time, that he was possibly tucked away in the remains of the Arkham morgue, the island practically in ruins following Joker’s contingency plans to kill the Bat if he had died in Arkham City. But it had been the report she’d found in the GCPD after breaking in there that had crushed all hopes of her ever having a chance to bury Joker properly. 

Cremated.

After that, she’d fled the police to one of their old hideouts in the abandoned amusement park to the east of Gotham, the funhouse having been gutted inside to accommodate their hideout and a multitude of carnival themed traps. Though much of it had fallen into disrepair since Joker’s takeover of Arkham Island, and their time spent in the confines of Arkham City, the hideout had remained in relatively good shape.

Harley, her costume dishevelled and makeup smudged with tears she hadn’t been able to stop for the last few hours, was curled up on the bed tucked away in one corner of the hideout, Penn and Teller napping on the floor nearby. Old hideouts and memories were all she had left of Joker now, and although the murderous grief she had tried to turn on the bat had abated, she couldn’t shake the bone-deep sense of loss she felt without him. Sensing another person nearby, she didn’t even bother moving from her position, hugging one of the pillows that still faintly smelled of the Joker.

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“If you’re here ta bug me, I really ain’t in the mood,” she snapped, rubbing the sleeve of her costume over her eyes in a half-hearted attempt to hide her tears, even though it was more than clear she’d been crying in her voice, “So I’d get outta here before I set the babies on ya.”