Just a short one-shot.

Harley. His Harley. His exquisite, beautifully deranged Harley. His queen. What was a king without his queen? He paced around their bedroom, he hadn't slept in days. The voices in his head didn't allow him to sleep. They demanded him to burn the world into ashes if that was what it took to find her. They demanded him to destroy the people who had taken her from him.

They would all suffer, just like he was suffering now. No, they would suffer much more. She was the only one who could tame the voices, offer him a moment of silence. A moment of peace. There was no peace for him now and there wouldn't be, not before she would be by his side again. Once again he picked up her shirt and inhaled her scent. The scent of a goddess.

He had used to think that he had created her, but not even he could have created such perfection. He had only helped her to discover her true self. She belonged to him. She made him whole. His other half. Without her he was lost. Alone with the voices. He pressed his hands against his ears and shouted furiously.

"Harley!"

"Puddin?"

There she was, standing in front of him. She was smiling at him. He knew that she wasn't really here, but he didn't care. He needed a moment of silence.

"You look tired, Puddin," she said and twirled her blonde hair around her finger. "Want to come to bed with me?"

"Always," he replied.

She giggled and hopped towards the bed. He watched her as she lied down and patted the spot on the bed next to her. She was so beautiful. His queen. He made his way to the bed and lied down beside her. Silence. He knew that it wouldn't last for long. This was nothing more than his mind's desperate attempt to stop him from falling completely over the edge. He needed to sleep. He needed all his strength. For her.

"I'm going to find you," he murmured.

"I know, Puddin," she whispered in his ear. "I'll be waiting for you."