A/N: HEY GUYS IM SO HAPPY AND EXCITED TO FINALLY WRITE THIS! THIS WAS INSPIRED BY THE NEW "I, TONYA" TRAILER THAT WAS RELEASED. IN MY "WICKED" SERIES AND MY OTHER STORIES IVE WRITTEN, HARLEEN'S MOTHER WAS VERY, VERY SIMILAR TO TONYA HARDING'S (THAT WASNT INTENTIONAL I JUST SAW THE TRAILER AND IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT OF HARLEEN'S MOTHER IN MY STORIES). IM SO HAPPY TO BE WRITING AGAIN SO PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! THANK YOU:)
Waiting For You
Yeah, don't take things too personal
But you made shit personal
Talkin' 'bout my bad habits
Man, fuck my bad habits
Don't act like you got none
You can run, you can run
But you know that I know just what you've done
You can run, you can run
But save those words for one on one
So when the lights go down
And the sun hits ground
You should know that I won't back down
Knuckles out
And the guard in my mouth
When you're hungry for the next round
Oh, I'll be waitin' for you
Oh, I'll be waitin' for you
"Why'd you do it?" This is always the fucking Golden question. Whether it's quitting your job, or attempting to murder your own mother. They always ask "why'd you do it?"
Usually the answer is "I don't know" or "I'd like to get a lawyer, now". They don't typically come prepared to hear the one thing people like me, who refuse to take the blame, say.
They don't come prepared to hear "she begged me to."
I look straight ahead at the 2 way mirror, my eyes completely focused on the woman I know is behind the glass.
"Number 4 please step forward." I hear Gordon's voice ring through. I huff out air and take a step forward, knowing I'm staring into my mother's soul.
I can feel the fear and tension from the other side of the wall and I smirk as cruelly as I can muster.
"Hey, Ma."
Before we continue any further with the story, let's take it all the way back to the beginning.
Picture this: downtown Gotham, the crisp fall, constant racket of the busy city and the loud screaming of worn out springs from a mattress that is currently being put to work by my dad screwing my mom into oblivion.
I know, I know what you're thinking.
"Harley! Not so much detail!"
Well, I picked up on how to tell a story from The Joker, so deal with it.
Back to the point. In the midst of getting up to their apartment and giving jockeys everywhere a run for their money when it comes to riding, my parents never thought to get protection. So. I became "that bitch" that was a surprise. Joyous, I know.
My dad was a con, my mother was a god fearing, overbearing, ridiculously self-righteous, crazy bitch from hell. And not the good kind of crazy, either.
I had a strict schedule. Go to school, get back home, go to gymnastics immediately after school, every day, eat when I could— lean meats, protein and vegetables only — do homework in class so there's more time for gymnastics and most importantly: no friends. They're distractions.
I thought I was happy living like that, but I was miserable.
So miserable that in my teen years, I rebelled like absolute hell. And it only got worse as I got older.
"Well," I speak to my mom through the glass window that separates us. She has the phone pressed to her ear, glaring at me. "Cat your tongue?" I smile and she stares at me. "How's dad?" Again, she stays quiet. "You gonna talk to me or what?"
"I don't know what to say." She finally spoke and I clench my jaw.
"What're they sayin' bout me out there?" I ask, referring to the city. "Ya not stickin' up for me, are ya?" I ask next and she just keeps looking at me. "I bet J is." I think aloud and she swallows.
"There's no sign of him." She mumbled.
"You're cared, aren't you?" Because you know he's coming after you." I can't help but tell her and her eyes widen slightly.
"I didn't do anything but love you and this is how you repaid me! Trying to kill me!"
"Putin' me through hell my entire life? That's love?"
"I did what I had to do. I had to teach you a work ethic."
"You taught me that bad shit happens to good people. To little girls who sprain their ankles but still have to perform on a fuckin' balance beam the same day and have their asses beat when they get home for not winnin'." I Turn serious and she looks down. "Yeah, What you think I'm this way because I chose to be?"
"You're the way you are because you got involved with that man. I warned you that he was nothing but trouble and you didn't believe me. Now look at you. Locked up for trying to murder the same woman that gave you life and for what? To be praised by a man that only tolerates you for your looks and willingness to give him what he wants."
"I tried to kill you because I hate you!" I slam my hand up against the glass window and she flinches. "No one else is to blame for that, except you. He didn't convince me to do it he just freed me from that pathetic, scared mindset that I trapped myself in in order to keep you happy."
"He brainwashed you. You really let a man get in your head and get you to throw everything away."
"I let a man in, for once, and I'm liberated." I argue hoarsely.
"You're behind bars while he's at home." She hisses and I laugh loudly and then suddenly drop my smile into a stone cold expression.
"Fuck you." I hiss, slamming the phone on the hook and standing.
Gordon is by my side in no time, giving my mother a glance before he leads me out of the visitation hall.
He looks down at me, frowning slightly before he leads me to an interrogation room.
"Gonna drill me with more fuckin' questions?" I growled out as I was sat down in a chair across the table.
He sighed and sat down as well, looking at me with folded hands.
"Harleen," he started. "You look like hell."
"Gee, thanks, Commissoner." I leaned back.
"I want to know why you tried to kill your own mother." He told me. "We all know why you ended your medical career only a month ago...is your violent nature against your mother because of the same reason?"
"You think he made me do this?" I snap.
"He's made you do a lot lately."
"Listen here, Pig." I lean forward. " I quit my job because I wanted to. Not because he made me."
"Being fired and arrested for having unprofessional relations with your patient isn't necessarily considered 'quitting'."
"You don't have to sugar coat shit. You can say those unprofessional relations were us fucking each other every chance we got." I raised a brow at him and he huffed out a sigh. "Oh, sorry, am I makin' ya uncomfortable?"
"You were an incredible doctor, Harleen." Disappointment laid heavily in his voice and I rolled my eyes.
"I still am." I reply to him lowly. "I just don't practice anymore."
"An incredible doctor doesn't sleep with her homicidal patient and then tries to kill her own mother." He argued.
"Are you here to question me or patronize me?" I chuckle out.
"I'm here to figure out what caused you to do this. Everything. You say it wasn't him, then who was it?" Gordon asked and leaned forward curiously. "Why did you try to kill your mother, Harleen?"
I grin and look at him.
"She begged me to."
Now, let's go back to the moment this all started, 48 hours before.
My mother had called me and invited me to eat dinner with her and my dad at their house. I'd been unemployed for about a month and ten days and J was currently nowhere to be found and I was kinda sad and lonely and any kind of company would do me good...or so I thought.
"There She is." I heard my dad say as I came in the doorway of the kitchen. My mom looked up from her cooking and glanced at me in slight distaste.
"I see unemployment is treating you poorly." She commented and I tried not to let it get to me. My dad scowled at her slightly before standing up from the table and walking to me.
"Harley," he grinned, hugging me tightly.
"Hey, dad." I hugged him back, squeezing my eyes closed.
When we pulled away, my mom was staring at us with a hand on her hip.
"Harleen, go get washed up before dinner."
"Ma, I'm 26. I don't need you telling me what to do."
"As long as you're in my house, you do as you're told. Now go wash up." She repeated and I looked at my dad.
"Just go do it so she'll shut up, Kid." He told me and I sighed but did as I was told.
I got to the bathroom and had to do a double take in the mirror.
My skin was dull and stressed looking, my under eye circles were heavy and dark and my hair was a blonde, frizzy mess.
People probably thought I looked like that because I lost my job and was caught screwing my patient and was falling into the arms of depression.
The real reason I looked like Satan and Marilyn Manson had a fucking love child, was because J had been gone for over a week, doing business somewhere he wouldn't tell me. I hadn't gotten very much sleep at all, and I missed him like crazy. I mean, losing my job and being under investigation for fornicating with my patient was taking a toll on me, but not nearly as much as not seeing J was.
I wash my hands, and try to smile in the mirror, but it's insincere and painful.
"Great." I muttered and left the bathroom, going back to the kitchen.
My mom's already setting my plate of food on the table where her and my dad are seated and she sits down and pats the chair next to her.
I walk to the table, grab the plate from beside her at the table and move it beside my dad, instead, before I sit down. My mom glares at me, aggravated, before she puts her napkin in her lap and holds her hand out to my father.
"We need to say grace." She tells us. I don't argue, grabbing my dad's hand as my mother clears her throat. I close my eyes and await what the fuck she's about to say.
"God, in heaven I pray, forgive us of our sins, Lord. Thank you for this wonderful meal we have to nourish and strengthen our bodies, God. I just pray that you continue to bless us and keep us safe and that you would show Harleen your plan for her, Lord. She's lost and hurt because she let Satan lead her astray with temptation and lust. She's now out of a job and a psychiatric license. Be with her and let her know that regardless of her poor decisions and complete mockery she's made of this family and herself, that you still love her and we do, too. Amen."
It's safe to say I was getting Damned to hell very passive aggressively. And when we opened our eyes my dad was still holding onto my hand in a vice grip. I've never seen him cry. Ever. He was a complete badass from the Bronx and was completely too damn mean to cry. But I saw tears in his eyes as he looked at me in that moment. He didn't pity me because he knew everything that happened to me was my own decision. He didn't dare judge me because he knew the complexity of the situation. He knew I couldn't just walk away when I had been tethered to someone that allowed me to be me. Someone I didn't have to be flawless for when all I'd known my entire life was how to mask skeletons in my closet and be perfect. He knew why I loved The Joker. No, he wasn't thrilled about it. He didn't encourage it, but he understood it. Despite his change of life from his earlier days - trying to be religious like my mother wanted, just to keep her happy - he's always believed in me more than he's ever believed in any God.
My eyes met my dad's and I could see tears starting to form.
I just brushed it off and gave him a reassuring smile, hoping it looked better than the one I gave myself in the bathroom mirror.
"So, Harleen, where are you staying now?" My mother asked me, biting into a dinner roll.
I rub my lips together and look at her.
"A friend." I told her.
"You still have friends after the stunt you pulled?" She asked next and I tried not to laugh.
"I fell in love. If that's a horrible thing then—"
"You fell in love with a criminal. While you were his doctor. Yes, it is a horrible thing."
"Wasn't dad your patient at Black Gate when you met him?" I blurt and she drops her fork and it clatters against her plate violently.
"You told her?" She hissed to my father and he nonchalantly ate his green beans as if he didn't hear her.
"She asked how we met and I told her. I'm not gonna lie to my girl to make you look good." He motioned to me and my mom clenched her jaw. "Why'd you invite her to dinner if you just planned on interrogating her? As if GCPD hasn't asked her enough questions." He looked at her while he chewed his food and I couldn't help but smile a little bit.
"Fine!" My mother piped. "Forget I said anything."
But the damage was already done. We ate in silence for the most part, my dad the only one that wasn't focused on me losing my job or anything related to J. He asked me about my social life, if I ever went out more than I did when I was living with them. We talked about his new car, and how his new job was coming along. He told me my aunt Rosalie, who moved upstate, was diagnosed with prostate cancer...and then I had to politely explain to him that women don't have a prostate. Then he told me she had ovarian cancer, which my mother confirmed with a "yes". He said Rosalie assigned my other cousin, Vicki, and her husband as the Godparents and that Rosalie was going to ask me to do it, but she didn't want me to be overwhelmed with work and two young children.
Which was a good call because I don't think J would be very fond of the idea of two snot nosed kids running around the house.
It was going pretty good until my mother started her shit again.
"So," she propped her chin on her knuckles. "Where is your...friend?"
My dad grimaced and I ground my teeth together.
"Honey." My dad said and she ignored him.
"He's good." I tell her.
"I bet he is on cloud nine. He's got a beautiful girlfriend, he's corrupted his own doctor and he's not even getting in trouble for it."
"I'm gonna go get something out of the garage." My dad stood, sighing before he walked out.
"Why're you doing this? Why're you still pointing out everything you think I do wrong?" I asked her.
"Because I raised you to be perfect, Harleen. And then I turn on the news and hear you're fired for having sex with a cold-hearted, retched, selfish—"
"You're talking about someone else being cold-hearted, retched and selfish?!"
"Everything I did was to shape you into who you would become! A classy, well rounded, confident woman!"
"You tore me down every fucking chance you got!" I shout, standing up.
"And you excelled and became the youngest and psychiatrist In Gotham city's history!" She yelled back. "That is because of me! Because I've always pushed you to be best at everything and you waste it all for the devil!"
I come across the table, lunging at her, knocking us both into the floor.
She claws at my neck while I straddle her, and grab a steak knife that lays on the floor beside her head.
I hold the blade to her throat, nicking her skin and she freezes and looks up at me.
Now, anyone in a normal situation wouldn't just stop and look at you like they're stupid. They'd still fight, struggle, but my mother had stopped, and started crying.
"Do it." She spoke. I saw in her eyes that she was as sincere as she could possibly be. Pain laced through her eyes and I feel a very, very small shred of guilt in me. "Do it, please, do it." She pleads, starting to sob.
"Harleen," I hear my dad and I snap my head in his direction over my shoulder.
"Get her off of me!" My mother screams. "Please, get her off, don't let her hurt me!"
I look down at her, confused. She was just fucking begging me to kill her and now it's a different story?
I immediately get off of her and my dad goes to help her up.
The second the bitch got up, she called the fucking cops and told them I tried to kill her. I ran, and not a few hours later I was found and arrested.
And of course, the second the media found out, they flooded the scene. I couldn't even get to the fucking cop car because they were jumping down my throat.
'Arkham Psychiatrist Gone Mad After Affair With Clown Prince'.
I could see the fucking headline. That was my first independent crime after the whole Joker ordeal. They weren't even done investigating the fucking sex scandal before I did that. Then they knew, there was nothing more to investigate. He'd gotten into me, infected me with his ways and thought process.
"So that's what happened?" Gordon asked when I was done telling him the story. I sigh and nodded.
"Yes."
"Well, th—"
He's interrupted by the sound of gunshots and noise outbreaking on the other side of the door.
"What the hell?" He stands and goes to the door. "Watch her!" He ordered the cop that was guarding the door.
Within seconds I hear Gordon groan, and someone hit the ground. I stand and rush to the door and the cop that was guarding it is suddenly shot in the head.
I freeze, my heart racing and my eyes widening.
Foot steps come closer and closer to the door and I start breathing heavily.
I had seen the neon green hair before anything fucking else and I knew in that glorious moment that I was free...and by the sight of the familiar face on that head that hang from strands of hair in J's hand, my mother was dead.