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Laughing Because it hurts to cry

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Chapter One

It was over.

Harley watched in barely concealed jealously as Flag embraced his girlfriend, her heart aching painfully in her chest as he kissed her.

She looked away.

That should be her and her Mistah J.

Her puddin' was gone, gone and he wasn't coming back this time. She was all alone…again.

"You're never alone." Rumbled a low voice and she shivered. That voice, so eerily familiar, she knew it almost as well as she knew her own. It had been her constant companion for over a decade, and only her puddin' knew the extent of the pain that voice put her through.

Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them back, stiffening as a large gentle hand landed on her shoulder.

Deadshot.

Floyd.

He looked worried, his dark eyes soft in a way she remembered from that life, one man in particular. She fought not to snarl, forcing her gaze away from his.

"You alright, dollface?"

She smiled, a small broken thing full of pain and anger.

"I'm fine." The words were a lie, they nearly always were.

He nodded, taking them for what they were but kind enough not to ask about it. Instead he turned to Flag, who was watching them with gratitude lining his features.

"What now?"

"Now? I've been offered presidential pardons for all of you for your services. Waller is dead, though, so we'll need to head back to base to go over the details."

The criminals stared at him, stunned. They hadn't thought it would actually happen but Flag's expression was nothing but sincere.

They were being released.

"Puddin' too?" Flag sent her a soft look, not unlike Deadshot's and she wanted to kill him.

"…yea. Him too."

A weight lifted in her chest, if only for a moment. She'd helped her puddin' even if he wasn't there to see it.

Following the man out of the trashed station as a plane dropped to pick them up the group climbed into the aircraft and tried to plan out what they would do with their lives now that they were officially free.

All the while each of them tried to ignore the tiny spark of warmth in their chests that had appeared upon completing their heroic deeds. After all they were bad guys…right?


 

Freedom.

She had longed for it since being thrown in Belle Reve two years previous and it was finally in her grasp, with only the stipulation that in case of another metahuman attack she return to fight. It was a stipulation she'd had no problem agreeing with, especially since she'd regained a family in her teammates.

Deadshot smiled at her, pulling her into a hug.

"Got any plans, doll?"

She shook her head. She couldn't go back to Gotham, not without her lover. There were too many memories, too much pain, and if she went back without him, she'd lose the slight dredges of sanity she had left.

Without her Joker, she would burn Gotham to the ground and laugh in the ashes. He was her anchor and he was gone.

"Why not return home?" Fla- no, Rick asked her and she frowned at him, curiously. He held up a thin folder with the words "Top Secret" printed on it.

"Waller, had you under surveillance long before you became the Queen of Gotham, Harls. She saw you as a threat, especially after you continued to show up at nearly every strange crime scene in your hometown. She put you on the list while you were in Eichen House, but she didn't find out you were Harleen Quintzel until after you were imprisoned here."

Harley stared at him, at the file in his hands, and for once the voices in her head were silent.

She missed her hometown fiercely, always had, but she didn't want to leave her new friends, not so soon after her lover' death. On the other hand, Gotham was the most interesting town in the country outside of her own, and she knew she'd be restless and bored anywhere else.

An idea hit her and she smiled.

"What do you guys think about moving to Beacon Hills? I hear the weather is great, there's a lot of death and maiming, oh and animal attacks. The animal attacks are important."

They all looked at her, then at each other, contemplating the decision and her heart pounded violently in her chest. Maybe they didn't feel the pull like she did. Maybe they wouldn't come.

She didn't want to be alone.

Deadshot smiled first and the others followed his lead.

"Well, I'm game."

Captain Boomerang, and she was so not going to call him that all the time, shrugged.

"Got nothin' better to do. Plus, there's a nice little jewelry store in Los Angeles, I've been meaning to hit."

"I will go." Katana agreed nodding.

Croc frowned and Harley smiled. "There's a large lake on the preserve that you can live in."

He grinned. "Alright."

Rick chuckled, his arm wrapped firmly around his fiancée. "I'm retiring in two weeks. Y'all look for a place."

They nodded, and Deadshot smirked.

"Wanna meet my Baby?"

Harley giggled, nodding wildly. "Can I? Pretty please?!"

"C'mon."

She waved bye to the others and Rick waved back.

"See y'all in two weeks."

She smiled, and excitement pumped in her blood.

She was going home, her smile sharpened into the deadly grin that her puddin' had loved. The Pack wouldn't know what hit it.

TBC…

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

John was happy.

Tara raised an eyebrow as her boss entered the station with a content smile on his face, his eyes sparkling in a way she hadn't seen since Stiles had stopped calling five years previous.

The girl had left town after a horrible fight with Scott McCall and hadn't returned and when she stopped calling they'd all assumed she was dead. It had taken Tara and half of the BHPD to stop their boss from falling back into the bottle. They had succeeded but getting him to smile nowadays was like pulling teeth, unless you were Melissa McCall, his wife. Therefore, she felt that it was only right for her to be curious.

"Sir?"

He glanced at her and grinned. "She's alive, Tara. My baby girl is coming home."

Something warmed in the woman's chest at his words and she grinned back at him, relief coursing through her veins. She, along with most of the deputies at the station had watched the girl grow up and she was like a niece to them. Her death had killed them, so hearing that she was alive…it was like a weight had been lifted off their chests.

"When is she coming?"

"Her and a few friends going to be moving into Mrs. Langston's old home in two weeks. She just called to let me know they were coming…and to ensure that I've been keeping to the diet she set for me."

Tara snickered. "Like anyone would go against it."

He sighed, but his eyes danced with far too much happiness to be upset.

"She's coming home, Tara. She's coming home."


"Harleen isn't my real name."

Joker hummed softly, running a callous hand down her back as sweat cooled their bodies. She loved when he was like this, his chaos calmed to a gentle lull that only she got to see.

"Joker isn't mine." He responded and she smiled, curling closer to him.

"I never woulda guessed." She responded giggling when he shot her a fond, yet exasperated look.

"Tell me your name." He ordered and she flushed at how the order resonated deep inside of her.

"Mieczysława. Mieczysława Stilinski."

He stared at her for a moment. "You're polish."

Her blush darkened and she looked away. "I am."

"Mieczysława," He purred and she gasped as his breath ghosted across her throat. "My name is Alexander. Alexander Hale."

Her head shot up. "Any relation to Derek Hale?"

He raised an eyebrow in a move that told her he couldn't not be related to Derek. "You know my nephew?"

"Yes."

He let out a low snarl, hearing the pain in her voice, rolling so that he was on top of her.

"You're mine." He growled and she mewled, back arching as she tried to press herself closer to him.

"Always, puddin'. Always."

Harley sighed softly as they passed the 'Welcome to Beacon Hills' sign, a soft giggle leaving her as she saw the adjustments made to the sign.

"Aunt Harley, are you alright?" She glanced at Zoe with a small smile and nodded. She'd grown close to the little girl since Deadshot had introduced them and she couldn't help but feel those old nurturing instincts flooding back every time the kid was near her. She talked about babies with her puddin' but they'd never been able to make good on it. She wanted her own pups.

"Where is this house again, Harls?" Rick asked and she rolled her eyes.

"Let me drive."

"No!" They all responded quickly, alarmed and she pouted.

"Fine! It's the big house next to one with the police cruiser in the driveway."

"We live next door to the sheriff?!" June gasped and Harley grinned at them, as they pulled up in the drive way to find, said sheriff waiting for them. The second the car was parked, she raced out the door and tackled him into a hug.

"DADDY!"

He caught her with practiced eased, his arms strong and sure as they embraced her and for the first time in weeks, she felt like she could exhale.

"Stiles! I missed you, baby girl."

She sniffled, pulling back with a watery grin, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I missed you too, daddy." She looked back at her friends.

"These are my friends. Floyd, George, June, Rick, Waylon, and Tatsu." She picked up Zoe easily. "And this is Floyd's daughter, Zoe. Isn't she just the cutest?!"

John stared at his daughter's friends with a raised eyebrow, not even batting an eyebrow at the one that looked like a giant crocodile. He sighed.

"You couldn't just make normal friends could you? C'mon inside. You owe me an explanation for the five years of radio silence. The rest of you, I hope you enjoy your stay in Beacon Hills."

The former criminals nodded, staring at their friend stunned, all except Flag who smiled slightly and turned to their new house.

Somehow he had the feeling that Beacon Hills could become a home to all of them.


John Stilinski was not a religious man.

He'd never been the type to go to church regularly or pray faithfully, however as he held his baby girl in his arms, he felt like he should fall to his knees and thank God for her return.

She shifted, curling closer to him, and he found himself wondering just what had happened to he while she was away.

She was thin, not dangerously so, but she was far too light for someone her age. Her hair was no longer his wife's mahogany, instead it was a pale platinum bond, almost white in color, pulled back into a ponytail, where her blue and pink tips mixed. Most importantly was the collage of tattoos marring her pale skin, almost hiding the unfamiliar too-light scars from his keen gaze.

His baby had changed.

Taking a seat in his favorite recliner, cradling her in his lap.

"Talk to me, sweetie. What happened?"

She looked up at him, flecks of green swirling in the formerly amber eyes.

"I changed my name. Used my middle name and mama's maiden name. Took my classes online and managed to get my associates then powered through my doctorate's. I didn't mean to lose contact, daddy." She shivered, then a dangerous smile crossed her lips, even as her eyes softened.

"I did my residency at Arkham and I fell in love. He…oh, he was so beautiful. So broken." A tear slid down her cheek.

"He was mine."

John's heart clenched painfully in his chest, warring with his confusion and he found himself hoping that his daughter hadn't suffered through the same pain that he had. The loss of a spouse was one of the worst things to deal with in life and looking in her eyes he knew his hopes were in vain.

She was using past tense.

Whoever He was…he was dead.

"Where've you been?"

"Prison."

He blinked and looked at her hoping she was joking, but she was grinning brightly as if it was something to be proud of.

"Prison." He deadpanned.

And she nodded vigorously, her eyes lighting up.

"Yep. Belle Reve. It's the worst prison in the country. Mandy pulled us out to use us for her own needs, then Witchy killed her." Something manic sharpened her smile. "Killed her dead. Ricky got us all pardoned."

He stared at her, taking in the mania in her eyes and knew that whatever she'd done in the past to earn a prison sentence wasn't something he should know. She'd always been that way, manic bordering on sociopathic and seeing her be herself, without all the masks she tended to wear…it was relieving. It shouldn't have been but it was and he knew that The Pack was in for a big surprise if they thought she was gonna come crawling back to them.

A very big surprise.

TBC…

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

"You and Mama McCall got married? Yes!"

John smiled warmly as his daughter's reaction to his marriage with her former best friend's mom. Three hours had passed since he'd been reunited with his baby girl and he found himself learning more and more about her. Her friends, who'd joined them an hour previous, seemed to fit her better than the pack ever had, and it was amazing.

Around them, she smiled and cackled, but her nurturing instincts were in full effect, merging strangely well with the mania she was known for. She continuously made sure they were comfortably, refilling drinks and snacks, and changing subjects that were tense, just as she had before. He also noticed that her friends avoided mentioning her spouse, something he was immensely grateful about. She didn't need that reminded right now.

A soft hum drew him from his thoughts and he found her staring at the clock contemplatively.

"What time does she get off?"

He glanced at his watch. "Should be here in about thirty minutes."

She squealed, and grabbed the young girl, Zoe. "C'mon, Zo-Zo. Auntie Harley is gonna teach ya how to cook. Guys stay with my dad, if anything happens to him," Her eyes flashed dangerously, lips curling into a wide toothy smile. "I'll break you."

Her friends shuddered, but the oldest of them, Rick, raised a placating had at her.

"Go play Harls. Nothing'll happen."

Stiles stared at them, then giggled and led Zoe from the room, explaining to the girl how to make one dish or another, leaving her father in the room with her ex-criminal housemates.

"Your daughter's bloody crazy, mate." One of them, George if he remembered correctly, stated and he snorted.

"I know."

"You're the sheriff."

"I know." He smiled. "But I also know that if you're anything like Stiles, then you're all are set in your ways. All I ask is that you don't cause any trouble in town and don't get caught if you do."

The ex-cons all smiled at him, eyes gleaming, and he could see how they managed to handle his daughter so easily. They were all damaged, so more so than others, but they knew how to mask it so they could function in society. Even the soldier and his girlfriend, while not criminals themselves, carried darkness that hurt them, darkness that most of society shied away from. His resolve strengthened.

These people had been through hell, and he'd do everything in his power to make Beacon Hills a home to them.


"What did you just say?"

Aaron Kissinger swallowed thickly at the low, dark growl that left the King of Gotham's underground.

Like most, he's believed the man was dead and as such, he was paying gravely for it. The Clown Prince had waltzed into the building early that morning, as if nothing had ever happened, his mad grey-green eyes blazing when he failed to find his queen among those that greeted him.

In fact, no one had seen the woman since her arrest, only hearing rumors of her being released, and many had wondered why she hadn't returned. She was the only person with the power to sway The Joker's temper, the only person able to stay his wrath. She was Joker's, period. And everybody knew it.

This said, Aaron hated being the one to give the man the news of her disappearance, especially with how erratic his emotions were when the woman was involved. Messing with Harley Quinn was a sure-fire way to incite the infamous mania the Joker was known for.

"Sh-she n-never came b-back, sir. No one had seen her and our contact say that her team never returned to Belle Reve."

"Find her." Joker growled and for a moment his eyes seemed to flash a bright violent crimson. "Now!"

Kissinger fled quickly, fear racing through him.

They had to find her. They had to.

If not…Gotham would not remain standing.

Whoever said love would help the Joker, they were wrong.

Very, very wrong.


Dinner at 8. It important- Sheriff S.

Hazel green eyes narrowed as they stared at the message on the screen. Eight years had passed since Stiles had left Beacon Hills,since Derek had dared to return and not once had the Sheriff texted them outside of supernatural business.

The loss of Stiles had broken the man, and had it not been for Scott's mother, the sheriff would be dead.

Looking away from his phone and over at the pack playing in the field in front of his home, he sighed.

When he'd returned to find the McCall pack in shambles and its human nowhere to be found, it had taken everything in him not to kill Scott. Stiles was the one that held his pack together and the "true alpha" had kicked her out on the word of a chimera that was later proven to be trying to bring back Void. They'd tried everything they could to find the girl, to bring her home for both the Sheriff and the pack but they'd had no luck. If the sheriff new at the beginning, he wasn't talking, and, after finding out just what Scott had done to his little girl it was all they could do to keep him from getting Argent to give him the bullets he needed to kill the True Alpha himself.

The only clue they had was a voicemail she'd left, dated the day before she disappeared. He could still remember every word of it, and it never hurt any less.

"I- "A broken sob escaped her, "I can't do this anymore. Theo was right, I've got more blood on my hands than anyone in this pack, but still…I just can't. I- I don't even know why I called you, maybe because I know you won't pick up, but I just wanted you to know, I meant everything I said that night. I love you, Derek…and when you get this I'll be gone. I'm leaving Beacon Hills."

He'd gotten the message five days later, and it had hurt. Yes, Scott played the main part in her leaving but he knew that he did as well. They'd slept together, multiple times, (before the Alpha Pack, after it, after the Nogitsune), but when she said she loved him, he freaked. He didn't want to be like Kate, and yet it felt like that was exactly what he was doing, so he'd left. He never warned her, or called back, he merely…vanished.

He shook his head, forcing his mind to the present. He'd kept her pack together like she would've wanted. When he'd returned to Beacon Hills, he'd done so as an Alpha, and he 'd immediately gone to work fixing Scott's mess. Now their Pack was flourishing. Allison, Scott, and Isaac were a couple and had two children. Boyd and Erica, who'd been revived at the Nemeton by Theo, had a child as well and were pregnant with another. Cora and Malia were dating Liam and Mason respectively and the couples seemed to be working out well, and Ethan had returned with Danny and Jackson in tow. Even Chis seemed to be enjoying his place in the pack as Peter's mate and took it up to train the humans to protect themselves.

Now there was this.

Another sigh escaped him and he let out a low whistle.

The pack gathered in front of him immediately.

"Get dressed. The Sheriff wants us over for dinner."

The older members of the pack blinked, their eyes widening.

"What?" Erica inquired.

Scott frowned. "Like my stepdad? That sheriff?"

"You know any other Sheriff, genius?" Lydia sneered, rolling her eyes.

The younger alpha blushed, scratching his cheek. "Well it's not like he's exactly fond of us." He replied. "He only started talking to me again after he married mom."

Boyd nodded. "Which begs the question, why now?"

Peter smirked.

"Guess we'll just have to find out."

TBC...

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

Dinner at 8. It important-

Harley frowned as she stared at her father's phone, her heart racing as she realized just what she'd done.

She'd stolen the phone during their hug on a childish whim, wondering when he'd notice she'd done it. When he didn't notice, she'd spontaneously decided to invite the pack to dinner, and the whispers in her mind just seemed to drive her closer to that decision. They'd taunted her with the words she'd heard from the pack so often, followed with reminders that other than her new pseudo family and her father she was alone…and it was all her own fault.

Crimson lips curled into a vicious snarl at that thought, hand reaching for her gun as if it could kill the thought.

The phone in her hand beeped, alerting her to their response. She hesitated, slightly afraid of what she would find, then, scowling at her own weakness she clicked open the message.

-Yes sir. Everyone? - Hale

-Everyone. -

-We'll be there. -

A dangerous smirk crossed her lips, hazel green eyes flashing with malicious intent.

Beacon Hills had always brought out the best in her…and the worst.

Seems like they'd be eating outside tonight.


She was up to something.

John's eyes narrowed as he watched his daughter cook a lot more food than all of them would be able to eat, even those with higher than normal metabolisms. There was something dark in her gaze as she moved around the kitchen, her smile poisonous, making even the child helping her cook, Zoe, nervous.

A sudden cackle left her as the phone in her hands beeped, his phone.

What had she done?

"Stiles," He called and she stiffened then turned to him with a wide fake smile.

"Heyyy, Daddy-o." She greeted and he held out his hand expectantly.

She pouted, but handed over his phone with minimal fuss. "Tell everyone that we're having company. Wouldn't want Croc to get attacked by the puppies, would you?"

"Stiles-"

"Now!" She snapped, baring her teeth at him, much like the wolves she'd ran with as a teenager.

"Alright," He conceded. "Alright, but Stiles?"

She turned away from him, pretending she wasn't listening, but he saw her eyes flicker in his direction.

"If they get out of hand, if they hurt you…I'm gonna shoot them."

Beside her, Zoe giggled, shooting her surrogate aunt a worried look, before looking up at the Sheriff.

"My daddy can help."

Nodding, he left the room to inform the others only to groan as a tired, annoyed yell echoed through the house.

"John!"

His wife was home.


Honestly, she should be used to it.

The Pack showed up at their house at least once a week with no notice, always when John was at work, and her husband had a habit of taking in strays, especially after Stiles vanished.

This said, Melissa Stilinski could only let out an exasperated yell of his name when she entered her home to find six strangers lounging around her living room, three different bottles of liquor on the table even though she knew they didn't keep alcohol in the house. One of them, a timid brunette woman, flinched at the sound and another, a humanoid crocodile-like man, bared his teeth at her.

"Hey," soothed one of the others, a caramel skinned man with warm dark eyes. "You must be Melissa. The sheriff's wife, right?"

She didn't respond, rounding on her husband as he entered from the kitchen.

"Mel- "

"John, what the hell is going on?" She asked, knowing that the answer was likely going to be one she didn't expect.

He smiled, brighter than she seen since Stiles had left them.

"Stiles came home, and she brought friends." He paused then sighed. "And she invited the Pack for dinner."

The nurse froze, tears welling in her eyes. She loved Stiles like her own daughter, and when the girl had disappeared, it was only thanks to John and Scott that she hadn't fallen into the same depression as John, himself had. It had worsened when she realized that her son had played the biggest role in her disappearance.

Because of his negligence, her daughter had felt unwelcome in their home, in the town, and she'd left. For a while, she'd kept in contact but then suddenly, she was gone. No more calls, no letters, nothing.

She had to see her.

Now.

"Where is she?"

John pointed at the kitchen and her lips quirked into a smile at how obvious that should've been. No matter what, Stiles was, and always would be, a caretaker. The kitchen was her domain, the place she felt safest, and to honor her, Melissa had made sure it was always in tip-top shape.

"Does she know?"

"She's Stiles, of course she knows."

She nodded, taking a deep breath.

"How'd she take it?"

"Her and Scott tried to get us together for years. She was ecstatic. Now get in there." He encouraged, kissing her chastely. She nodded, sparing a glance at their guests before making her way into the kitchen to greet her daughter in law.

What she found…was not what she expected.

Stiles' long mahogany hair was now a pale platinum blonde and pulled back into a high ponytail, the ends dyed blue and red. Her pale shin was covered in tattoos and barely visible scars, her lips painted a deep crimson, and she was thin. Not lanky as she had been as a teenager, but thin all the same, as if someone had starved her recently and she was just barely getting herself back on track. Still the black shirt bearing the words "Property of Joker" in gold and the tight red and black jeans she wore clung to her body like a second skin, white lace up sneaker-like heels adorning her feet. Beside her stood a young girl, no older than 12, baring a striking resemblance to the caramel skinned man in her living room.

The girl turned, hazel green eyes widening then she found herself being pulled into a strong embrace.

"Mama McCall! I missed you!"

Her throat clenched with tears she refused to let fall and she hugged the girl back.

"We missed you too, honey. I'm so sorry, Scott should've known better."

Stiles hummed, and pulled away to turn off the stove.

"Zoe, go tell your daddy and Ricky to set the table, yea?"

"Okay, aunt Harley." The preteen responded, running from the room. Melissa raised an eyebrow.

"Harley?"

Her daughter in law smirked and bowed. "Dr. Harleen Quintzel. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

The older woman's brow rose higher. "Somehow, I feel like there's a story behind that one,"

The smile on the other's lips saddened, her hand drifting to caress the handle of the gun at her side.

"You have no idea."


"Why are we at the Sheriff's house again?" Someone asked, probably Liam.

Derek ignored the question, his heart pounding viciously in his chest as took in the scent of the sheriff and his wife, and of the six strangers inside the house. It should've set his hackles on end, especially since each of the unknown scents carried the coppery tang of blood, however all he could focus on was the seventh scent in the group. Sweetened by insanity and tainted with blood, but no less familiar, was a scent he knew as well as he knew each member of his pack's.

It was the scent he'd yearned for since leaving beacon hills, and mourned the loss of once, he'd returned.

The door opened, and it hit him like a slap in the face, when his eyes met dark hazel green ones.

"Stiles…"

Her lips curled into a dangerous smirk.

"Hello Derek."

TBC…

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

It didn't hurt.

For so long, she'd envisioned this day, envisioned seeing them all again and the pain that would spear her heart when it came…it wasn't there.

Instead, there was a vague sense of amusement at their shocked faces and a burning hateful feeling for the fact that her puddin' and Derek shared the exact same eye color. There was a dark, vicious anger warring with betrayal as she met Scott's eyes, and a flicker of shock when she saw Erica and Boyd.

The nogitsune gave a low rumble in the back of her mind and she smirked when she noticed Derek's eyes slowly skate down her frame.

Too bad for him.

"You're looking very alive for a dead person." Peter commented silkily and she snorted.

"Sorry to disappoint." She replied smarmily, leading them inside. Rick met her as she entered the kitchen, raising an eyebrow.

"No wonder your dad wants us to eat outside. Friends of yours?"

"Victim hopefuls." She replied and he scowled, "Harls-"

"Kidding, kidding…maybe."

The former soldier gave her a stern look then turned to look at the newcomers. There were eleven of them in all, eight men and three women, all of whom set off red flags in his mind. They weren't normal, and he had a feeling that the leader, a tall broad-shouldered man, could kill him before he even moved for a weapon.

No wonder Harley made it on the list before if this was who she'd ran with.

"Better get in here before Croc decides to polish off everything." Deadshot yelled from the other room and Harley gave a viscious grin to the pack.

"C'mon ex-friends. Lets go meet my new friends."

The pack moved to follow her and Flag, but Lydia stopped them grabbing her arm.

"Stiles," She snapped angrily. "You've been gone for almost a decade! You didn't leave a note, you didn't call, and now you have enough nerve to-" -Click-

They stared in shock as Stiles cut her off by pressing a gun to her throat, a wide unnerving smile on her crimson lips.

This was Stiles.

The same Stiles that had followed Lydia like a goddess, hanging off her every word as if it were gospel. The same Stiles that had always done anything she could to protect their pack.

Now she was holding a gun to Lydia's head, just under her chin, eyes gleaming frighteningly.

What the hell was going on?

"Shhh, ya excite me when ya talk like that. Might jerk the wrong way then ya'd be minus a head." She giggled, leaning forward til their lips were only a hairbreadth apart.

"You're not the boss of me, Lyds. You and Malia let Scott kick me out. Out of the pack-"

"You killed Donovan!" Scott yelled at her, seemingly forgetting that Theo had later been proven a liar.

Derek sent him a look, then grabbed the woman, ripping the gun from her hands and throwing it aside. Before he could speak, another gun sounded, followed by another.

"Let her go."

The voice was cold and harder than steel. Its owner stood in the walk way separating the Kitchen and the living room two slim black pistols aimed at Derek with frightening accuracy.

Somehow, they knew if he decided to fire, he wouldn't miss.

The man from before stood off to the side with an exasperated expression.

"First day in town and you're gonna commit a murder in the Sheriff's living room." He deadpanned.

Stiles cackled, dancing out of Derek's grip to place a placating hand on the gunman's arm.

"C'mon, no killing til we get outside."

He snorted then nodded, sending them all a look, then looped his arm with Stiles and led her outside.

The pack followed, feeling more confused than they'd ever remembered being in their…former packmate's presence.

Hopefully there would be no more surprises tonight, especially from her.


"Sir, we found her."

Mad hazel-green eyes snapped away from the collection of knives spread before their owner to pierce him with a soul searing stare and never in his life had Taylor Kingsfield felt so uncomfortable.

Staring into the eyes of the Clown Prince on a good day was unsettling but meeting the stare of the man when he was without his queen…it was terrifying. There was no sanity in that gaze, none of the man's trademarked mal-humor. There was only madness, possession, and an all-consuming need to get what was his back where it belonged.
It made him hope that whenever they were reunited, they wouldn't separate again.

No one should be subjected to Joker when he was unhappy.

"Where is she?" the man growled, and for a moment he swore that his eyes flashed red but that was impossible.

Red eyes didn't exist…

Did they?

Swallowing thickly, he found himself hoping it was a trick of light. Joker was scary enough without super powers.

"Beacon Hills, Sir. Tracers say she arrived there…eight hour ago."

Red again, it wasn't trick.

Joker was furious.

"Why wasn't I told eight hours ago?!" He roared and Taylor faltered back.

"The analysts wanted to be sure," He stammered, trembling slightly. "She's at the sheriff's house."

"Have the jet prepped. Now." The clown growled dangerously. "I want to be there yesterday."

He nodded and quickly fled, heart racing in his chest.

Maybe he should take his mother's advice and get a real job. Uncle James had openings in his bar.


Despite its tense start, Dinner was a lively affair.

Stiles flitted around as if she hadn't threatened to kill Lydia and was generally…Stiles. The Squad, her new friends were all very lively as well and were exchanging stories that the pack wasn't entirely sure were false or night (seriously, who admitted to robbing the diamond exchange?), while the Sheriff, Melissa, and Peter chatted quietly amongst each other.

As the night wound down, however, they felt all of their questions come flooding back , especially when she would trail off in the middle of a sentence and stare at the sky with a forlorn expression.

Her friend Floyd (who they called DeadShot) would nudge her and send her a concerned look which she waved off with her patented "I'm fine" (something that everyone agreed was a lie).

"Hey Peter," Every turned to her as she spoke, a strange glint dancing in her eyes.

"Yes?" He replied wearily.

"You ever tell the pack you were a twin?"

"No," came a voice, and her head whipped around, her eyes widening and filling with tears. " I don't imagine he did."

"Puddin?"

"Alex?"

TBC…

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

"No," came a voice, and her head whipped around, her eyes widening and filling with tears. "I don't imagine he did."

"Puddin?"

"Alex?"


Most people often forgot that Harley Quinn was every bit as insane as her lover perhaps even more so.

She was the brains behind the more daring and dangerous stunts that the Joker pulled and often the first to draw blood. Unlike her counterpart, she didn't discriminate in her choice of victim. Everyone was subject to her madness, even those closest to her.

Most of the time, her insanity was hidden behind innocuous smiles and barbed words but in that very moment it was in full display.

Those that had dared to hope Joker was alive for her sake were wondering if perhaps it would've been better if the clown stayed dead.

Hazel green eyes were blazing and full of fury and pain as their owner lunged at the Clown Prince of Gotham, her fist slamming into his face.

"You bastard!" She shrieked, ramming her fist into his face again before he could get a word in edgewise.

"You left me! You left me! You left me!" She snarled, her words intermixed with broken sobs, and tears streaming down her cheek.

She went to hit him again but he grabbed her fist, eyes flashing a burning crimson.

"Calm down!" He snarled and she gave a wordless snarl back, straining against him.

"Calm. DOWN!" He repeated, tightening his grip and she glared mutinously.

"You promised not to leave."

"I came back." He growled and she snorted.

"You came back." She sneered, and for a moment her eyes seemed to flash, a dark dangerous black.

'They always come back…doesn't mean they've never left.' The nogitsune whispered darkly in her mind and she bared her teeth in agreement. Something in her mate's eyes softened and he released her fist to cup her jaw in a bruising grip.

"I meant it when I said you were mine. I don't abandon what's mine." His gaze flashed over the assembled until they found his brother and his nephew.

"Unlike some."

She sneered at him. "Doesn't mean you didn't break your promise."

He growled lowly, yanking her closer until their lips were a mere hairsbreadth apart.

"And?" He responded cruelly. "I. Came. Back."

She stared at him, then grinned a wide unnerving grin, her eyes wide and unblinking.

"You. Left." She responded.

He dropped her face with a glare and turned to the others, grinning.

"Nephew! Brother! So nice to see you again." He greeted with faux enthusiasm, though his eyes narrowed when he noticed them both watching his mate worriedly.

He didn't know why.

She was fine. Her little mood would pass with time and she would be back to behaving again. If not, he would induce her again and he knew she didn't want that. His brother (What a funny thought after so long without his family) and his nephew (Uncle Alex, did you really make uncle Pete chase a rabbit) were watching her with a mixture of awe and longing and it was making his hackles rise.

He fought not to snarl at them.

They had no idea who they were dealing with.

He was no longer Alexander Hale, the mischievous younger twin of Peter Hale and the youngest of the Hale siblings. No.

He was the demon of Gotham, the Lord of the underground. His name was spoken in whispers and fear, his laugh known to everyone as a omen of Hell.

He had no place in his life to play happy families with them.

Especially after they'd let that bitch take him away.

Peter stepped forward, his gaze darting between Joker and Harley like he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Alex," He repeated and Joker could almost believe the longing in his voice.

Almost.

"Peter. You look very well for a dead man."

"I got better." His twin responded, snarkily, though the bite was lacking.

"Something you both have in common." Harley muttered and he sighed.

The sheriff stepped forward, tired of being left out of the conversation.

"Who are you?"

Joker smirked. "John Stilinski, heard you made Sheriff how awful. I am The Joker."

Harley rolled her eyes, throwing her arm over her father's shoulder.

"My Mate."

Derek made a wounded sound.

"Mate?"

She smiled darkly.

"Did you expect me to wait for you?"

"I told you I was coming back."

No, you fucked Braeden then left in the middle of the night without telling me shit. Then my "best friend" kicked me out of the pack for killing someone in self-defense all because some alpha-wannabe chimera wanted to kill him and bring back Void."

Erica glared at her alpha. "What? You did WHAT to my Batman?"

Joker made a face. "She's a lot prettier than the Bat. Sweeter too. Almost like candy."

Erica turned to him, horror in her eyes as realization dawned on her.

"You're the Joker."

He grinned savagely.

"Guilty."

She looked over the others, knowing she was the only one in the pack that followed the underworld. (Her favorite hero was Batman- sue her.) Each of Stiles' new friends and even, loathe as she was to admit it, Stiles herself, had set off alarm bells in her mind when she first saw them and now she knew why. They were all very familiar, and not for good reasons.

The sheriff was hosting some of the nastiest criminals in the underground and he didn't even know it.

"Killer Croc, Deadshot, Boomerang, Enchantress, and…Harley Quinn. The worst of the worst. All of you are supposed to be in prison."

Stiles giggled. "We were released early. Good Behavior."

Boyd frowned and Scott stepped forward, practically radiating disappointment.

"Prison? Stiles what the hell have you been doing?"

"Oh, you know, Murder, extortion, racketeering, terrorism. The Works."

"What the hell, Stiles. You know better!"

Joker rolled his eyes and made a face. "Less preaching please."

Lydia sniffed disdainfully. "Coming from the man dressed like a clown. Why don't you crawl back to your circus?" She sneered.

Three dark glares were sent in her direction courtesy of the three Hales in her pack but before anyone could comment a shot sounded and she fell to the ground with a hole in her head.

"Stiles/Harley!" Everyone yelled and she sighed.

"What? Not like you weren't all thinking it."

"Yeah but now I have to find somewhere to hide the body." The Sheriff replied and the Pack stared at him.

Croc stepped forward. "I got it." He replied hefting the corpse into his arms and Derek snarled glaring at his former pack member angrily.

"You don't kill pack, Stiles! Have you lost your fucking mind!"

She sneered nastily, her eyes colder than any of them had ever seen them.

"I'm not pack, remember. Now, it seems you have a funeral to plan. Get the hell out."

TBC…

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven

Derek snarled glaring at his former pack member angrily.

"You don't kill pack, Stiles! Have you lost your fucking mind!"

She sneered nastily, her eyes colder than any of them had ever seen them.

"I'm not pack, remember. Now it seems you have a funeral to plan. Get the hell out."

The Hale Pack stared at their former pack mate stunned, still reeling from Lydia's death.

Harley stared back at them with a wide smile on her lips, eyes twinkling.

"Y-you killed her." Scott whispered and she rolled her eyes.

"Obviously."

Derek's eyes flashed crimson at her blasé response.

"No. No! See, you don't get to do this. You don't get to disappear then come back and kill one of my pack! You don't get to be like her!"

Harley's lips twisted into a vicious snarl, her hazel green eyes flashing onyx.

"Because you know me so well. Fuck you, Derek! I have every right to do whatever what I want to this pack, or did you forget who formed it in the first place?" She snorted. "You all have enough nerve to play victim with me? After abandoning me in Eichen House? After leaving me to rot on the whim of a chimera I warned you about! I noticed Theo is missing, what, finally realize I was right?"

Scott flinched as if she'd struck him, and once upon a time, she might've felt bad, but as it stood all she felt was a vindictive sort of pleasure that her words had hurt him.

"And the worst part was I had faith that you, my best friend, my alpha would believe in me, would save me but you didn't, Scotty. You left me alone. You kicked me out of the pack, even after everything I had done to bring it together. Derek, you crushed my heart and decided to leave, not even bothering to warn me. And I was so stupid that I really thought you would come back."

Derek looked away. "So why kill Lydia? Why not me or Scott?"

She shrugged. "She insulted Puddin'. That her death hurt you both was just a bonus."

Isaac snarled at her. "Wasn't killing Allison enough?!"

She giggled, onyx eyes glittering with untamed madness and even Joker shuddered at the sound.

"Nope."

"You've lost your fucking mind."

She nodded, then cocked her head.

"Puddin' likes my crazy." She purred and her mate nodded.

"Although, I've told you about playing with your food."

Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Alex? You- how did you survive?"

Joker stared at his twin brother, a vicious grin playing on his painted lips.

"Well~" He sang, "I was trying to help get the kids out of the house while it was burning. Ms. Argent found me after I got little Cora out, and nabbed me while I was still weak and on fire myself. She played with me for a while, a long long while, then handed me off to her dear mommy. Mommy was even more twisted…at least until I ripped out her throat."

Peter shuddered. Of the two of them, Alex had been the gentler twin, never having the stomach for the torture and violence Peter's job as Talia's left hand had required of him. That the Argents ad twisted his beloved younger twin into the monster before him was startling.

It made him hate them all that much more.

"All of my pack bonds were gone, our bond as twins was gone and well~ sanity was overrated."

"And you and Stiles?" Derek sneered, jealousy marring his features. Alex smirked and wrapped his arms around the blonde who hummed and leaned into him, gasping when one of the wolf's hands wrapped around her throat.

"She was my psychiatrist." He rumbled, burying his nose in her throat in a blatantly possessive gesture.

"It took me months to win her over, but I never counted on her falling in love with me. When I escaped Arkham Asylum, I broke her and brought her with me. Isn't she beautiful?"

Peter frowned, as did the Sheriff. "You broke her?" The latter asked dangerously and Joker grinned.

"Electroshock therapy. Isn't that right, doll?"

Harley smiled, her eyes dark. "Couldn't put my masks back on, daddy." She told her father. "They didn't work anymore."

John sighed, then nodded, still unhappy about the electroshock therapy thing. However, he could see that she was happier with her masks gone, or at least most of them.

She was wearing one now, a new one he'd never seen before. Obsessively in love with her mate, but almost eerily obedient. Everyone thought Joker was the beginning of her decline in sanity but he knew better.

The nogitsune had left its mark and even before she left, he'd never been sure it left her completely. She'd adopted too many of its mannerisms and her masks had been failing even if the pack hadn't noticed.

He could see glimpses of it in the way she smirked and tilted her head, amusement glinting in her eyes as her mate told their story.

The electroshock therapy may have disabled her masks, but Harley was as much of the true Stiles, his daughter dared to show the world. He doubted even the joker knew his daughter's true personality.

Derek didn't seem to like the story either. "Stockholm syndrome. Stiles you know that all it is, right?" He pleaded and Joker snarled at him, clutching the blonde tighter.

"Mine." He growled, crimson eyes blazing. "Careful, Derek. You may be my nephew but I will kill you and feel nothing about it if you kept threatening my bond."

"You're holding her hostage!" Derek snapped and Harley giggled when Joker snarled again.

"She is very willing, I assure you."

Scott turned his eyes on his step-sister, puppy eyes full force.

"Stiles, please-"

"Leave."

"St-"

The squad raised their weapons, as he stepped forward. "You're interrupting our party." Boomerang said, glaring. "So, leave."

The pack shared a look.

"We were invited." Derek argue obstinately.

"Invitation rescinded." Harley snarked, raising her gun and pointing it at the alpha.

Peter, seeing that things were about to escalate, placed a hand on his nephew's arm and silenced him with a look.

"With you being an Alpha, you would need to have a sit down with our pack to discuss the terms of your stay here. Perhaps we could discuss a meeting date at a later time?"

Joker nodded, his face uncharacteristically serious.

"Of course. Get out."

He nodded and the pack left.

Once they were gone, Harley let out a high cackle and pulled away from her mate to grab a drink.

Everyone stared at her and she grinned.

"Well? We have a party to get back to."

They stared a few moments longer, shrugged and returned to their celebration. Croc joined them a few moments later, a for a while they just let the stress of the nights events and the events of the past month roll away.

For those few moments in time, they were as happy as people like them could get and they reveled in it.

TBC…