A/N: Ok, so this is my first Dark Knight story, please don't be too brutal. I've done my best to keep the characters the same, with some variations due to my interpretations. It's rated T because in keeping with Christopher Nolan's style there will be sone dark moments plus some mild swearing. Please read and review, enjoy!!! :)

Part1

Chapter 1

I stared up at the sinister building in front of me. It seemed to radiate despair, the gothic battlements mixed with the clinical neatness of a hospital made it look like a setting for an old horror movie.

Even though it was mid-day the sky was black with rain clouds, and I could already feel drops landing on my upturned face. The weatherman had said there would be thunderstorms, and it looked like he was right for once. The air crackled with electricity and a distant rumble echoed across the city. All this added to the gloomy atmosphere around the building, and made Arkham Asylum even more uninviting.

I had accepted the internship here eagerly. It was after all the biggest challenge for any Psychiatrist in Gotham. This wasn't a one-on-one session with any ordinary, paying sucker, this was where all the most dangerous and extreme cases went. The idea of listening for an hour while some middle aged, sad act whined about their life had never really appealed to me. No, I had always been attracted to unusual personalities, and here I was sure to find them.

The rain started to come down heavy, breaking my train of thought. I dashed through the wrought iron gates, with the words 'Arkham Asylum' written in elegant script above them. By the time I had reached the main entrance, pulling open the door into the lobby, I was soaked through.

My clothes dripped steadily onto the tiled floor, the sound magnified as it was the only sound in the empty room. Apart from a clock on the far wall, that ticked the seconds away sombrely.

I glanced around the silent lobby, taking in my surroundings. The walls were painted a pale yellow, a sickly colour which tinted everything in the room with an unhealthy glow. There was a rather limp and pathetic looking potted plant in one corner, and a framed picture of some abstract art hung askew on the wall to the right of me. Someone had clearly been trying to brighten the place up, and had failed miserably. Underneath the picture there were four faded seats that were frayed and moth eaten. The reception desk was opposite these, a glass panel separating the grim lobby from the mundane looking office behind it.

I walked towards the glass, my heels clicking loudly on the floor. There was no one sat at the desk behind the panel, and I rolled my eyes as my being on time for once hadn't paid off. It was then, when I had resigned myself to wait until someone eventually came to find me, that I saw a brass bell perched on the wooden ledge in front of the glass. My hand was hovering over it when suddenly a cool, clipped voice spoke behind me.

"Miss Quinzel I presume?"

I whirled around quickly to see who had spoken. He was a large man sporting the white coat of a Doctor. He had small glasses with black lenses perched on a hooked nose, and seemed to have a permanently smug expression. His hands were clasped in front of his ample chest, and he stood surprisingly still while he waited for me to respond. His two beetle black eyes bored into me as I took a step towards him, my hand extended.

"Harleen Quinzel," my voice rang with more confidence than I actually had. I didn't want to admit it, but this man scared me slightly. He looked at my hand with an amused expression, before grasping it and shaking it slowly.

"Dr Hugo Strange, Head of Psychiatry and lead consultant here at Arkham. Basically…" he said, his face stretching into a grin. "I'm your new boss."

My mouth twitched involuntarily at the corners when he said his name. He seemed to notice, and let my hand drop back to my side, the grin fading.

"I am well aware of the irony my name provides in this place. But most people think it suits my job."

I didn't respond to this statement out loud, as I couldn't find an appropriate way of saying it suits you too. But once again my unspoken comments were noted and Dr Strange gave me a cold stare before turning his back on me.

"Follow me Miss Quinzel," he shot over his shoulder, as he strode from the entrance lobby. I walked quickly after him, through a pair of swing doors into a long corridor.

If I had thought the atmosphere in the lobby had been bad, it was nothing compared to the rest of the mental hospital. Each corridor we walked down, and there were a few, were uniform. Exposed brick walls, which had been painted another dirty shade of yellow. The only thing that broke the never-ending ribbon of yellow was the iron doors set at intervals on either side. Many were rusting badly, and as I passed each one I could see the many inmates through the small glass window in the top of the door.

The corridors were lit by industrial filament lamps hanging above our heads. And the wane light they emitted drained the colour from everything. They really didn't care much for appearances here at Arkham.

I managed to keep pace with Dr Strange's even stride, and walked abreast with him down several identical corridors. I knew he hadn't been head of Arkham for long. The previous owner and Head of Psychiatry at Gotham's most specialised 'prison' had recently become an inmate himself. I presumed Dr Strange must have been working here when Jonathon Crane was in charge, and had taken over after his 'breakdown'. The thought of Dr Strange having to take care of a man that had previously been his boss, only strengthened my belief that I was in for an interesting ride here.

Eventually we reached a door that wasn't made of iron but of wood. A small plaque fixed to it read:

Dr Hugo Strange

Dr of Psychology

Head of Psychiatry

He opened the door and gestured for me to enter. His eyes followed me as I edged past him into the dim room, sending a shiver down my spine. Never mind the psychopathic killers and criminals down the hall; this guy was seriously beginning to give me the heebie-jeebies.

Once inside I looked around. Stange's office was similar to the reception behind the glass. Rows of filing cabinets lined two walls, a large desk faced me with a number of files open on it. Strange moved from behind me and shut the door. An overhead light illuminated the room, as I realised that the office had no windows. In fact I hadn't seen a window since I had entered the building. The outside world seemed miles away in this place, maybe that was part of the treatment. It was certainly starting to make me uneasy.

Strange sat down at his desk and cleared the files away. He motioned with his hand for me to sit in the chair opposite. As I lowered myself into the seat, a thought struck me.

"Why did you come to get me sir? Sorry for asking, but couldn't a less senior member of staff have brought me here? I'm sure you must be too busy to have to talk to every Intern that comes to Arkham."

I was especially polite as I still hadn't fully sussed Strange. Usually I could tell within minutes how someone ticked, and I never stood on ceremony with anyone. But Strange was different, he seemed to be analysing everything continually and this put me on edge.

Strange leant forward and made a pyramid with his fingers. A small smile tugged at his mouth, and his glasses seemed to flash in the light.

"We don't have many admin staff Miss Quinzel, mainly because no one visits the patients we have. As for me talking to the Interns personally, it's no bother as you're the only one."

I frowned and sat back in my chair. I really didn't like the way Strange looked amused at my reaction, I wished he would stop staring at me like one of his cases.

"You only hired me?" I didn't believe him. Arkham Asylum was a huge complex; it took up the majority of the Narrows. A small island set in the middle of Gotham city. This building was only the main facility, there were others holding hundreds more patients. A large place like this needed a lot of staff, they should have been recruiting more Interns than just me. But then I remembered the corridors. We hadn't passed anyone, no one that looked like they were working here at any rate. My frowned deepened.

"We felt that a person of your…background…would be an asset to the team."

Team, what team?

"I only want the best working for me, and unfortunately that's a lot harder to come by nowadays."

"I'm very flattered Dr Strange, but surely you don't intend to mentor me yourself."

Strange gave a short laugh, and sat back.

"Good gracious no. I do have other staff Miss Quinzel, and one of them will be mentoring you."

I couldn't help but feel relieved that I wasn't going to have to put up with Strange all day, every day. The guy was creepy.

"Who is my mentor then?"

Strange looked at me in silence for a moment, his black eyes boring into me. I suppressed a shudder.

"Aren't we eager?" He drawled, "Very well, Dr Adam Black will be mentoring you. He has arranged to meet you here with your first assignment."

Dr Black, Jesus, didn't anyone in this place have a normal surname? Jones, Matthews, I'd even take Smith.

As if on cue the door to Strange's office opened, and a man in his late twenties entered. Despite his last name he looked extremely friendly. He had brown hair that stuck up at odd angles, and cheerful blue eyes that were edged with a number of crinkles from where he had smiled a lot. He was smiling now, a broad grin, as he caught sight of me.

"Harleen Quinzel, this is Dr Adam Black." Strange introduced in a tone that suggested I was dismissed. I didn't need to be told twice, I almost leapt out of my chair towards Dr Black. I thanked Strange, but didn't wait to see his reaction to my obviously enthusiastic exit.

I saw Black's though, he was struggling to hold back a laugh as we began to walk down the corridor together.

"So Miss Quinzel-"

"Call me Harley, everyone does."

"Harley," he said slowly, "You ready to meet your first patient."

A thrill of excitement ran through me. I could hardly wait to begin.

"Lead the way Dr Black."

"Call me Adam," he retorted, humour colouring his voice.

"Adam," I replied imitating the slow voice he had used for my name.

He chuckled.

"Welcome to Arkham Harley."