It might seem that Harley is not bothered by the circumstances... but in all reality she is holding onto the small fabrics of sanity she has left right now, just like everyone else. There are moments in the dark -- when she knows she is alone -- that the psychotic energy of her past catches up with her.

In those rare moments -- she is very dangerous. And she is just trying not to endanger others right now. They have enough on her plate to be concerned about her.

She wonders for a moment about the they he mentions. Would they be like the guards at Arkham? Force food down her throat until she can't breathe? Let the food go to waste when she was not touching it?

There is a quiet laughter echoing behind Jim's words. At the edge of her eyesight she can see him and his damn purple jacket. What did you expect, my dear? A round of applause? A medal? My gratitude? You will never be enough...

It takes her half a second to blink the madness back to the corner of her mind. The eeriness is like walking a tightrope over a thousand knives.

With a movement, she removes her offer without another word.

He is not the only one who can fake control.

"Where is the worst place to go right now, that would help the most?" Redirects the conversation for both of their sanity. Nothing happened here. Neither of them almost cracked under the pressure.

"Where can I go, to do some much-needed good?"