From the journals of Ana Giry-Napier

10/11/01

People often ask me what I see in my husband. They often ask me why I choose to spend my life with a reformed madman. I frequently hear: "Aren't you afraid of a relapse," among many other questions. The truth is, I'm not. He is no longer The Joker. But, that doesn't mean that I don't remember the presence of the persona his battered, child-like psyche had chosen for him…

~Flashback~
Jack has spent seven months in Arkham since our impromptu reunion. He's vowed to me that he's going to get help, so that we can spend the rest of our lives together. The doctors tell me not to waste my breath. I had a meeting with Dr. Arkham himself just the other day on this very subject.

"Miss Giry-" he starts. I immediately correct him, flashing my left hand, where a two-carat diamond ring rests proudly on my ring finger.

"Actually, it's Ms. Giry-Napier now, or just Ms. Napier if you prefer. Before his last relapse, Jack proposed." His features fill with absolute shock.

"And you…accepted?"

"Yes, Doctor, I did. But, this discussion isn't about me. It concerns my fiancé," I remind him firmly.

He clears his throat, nodding in a flustered way. "Right…I apologize."

"Quite alright," I assure him, smiling serenely and motioning for him to continue.

"Yes, well…I don't know how to put this to you gently, Ms. Napier, so I'm just going to say it: there's too much wrong with your fiancé for us to even begin to understand how to treat him properly…"

"Doctor, I can assure you: his mental facilities, or lack thereof, if you prefer, are not at all difficult to explain. He was prone to violent disassociate episodes due to the abuse he suffered as a child. Now, granted, he creates stories like the one about an ex-wife. But that's all they are: stories. As a former psychologist and therapist, I can tell with the utmost certainty that the bulk of what your staff sees and hears in regards to him is the result of an intermittent regression to a child-like state of mind. He plays mind games because, sometimes, that's all he knows. What you see most of the time, Doctor, is not unrestrained anger or plain insanity. It's fear and need. He fears society, he fears being around others in many cases, but most of all and most difficult to help…he fears himself."

I stop, and he says: "No, no, keep going. This may help us in the long run."

My smile becomes a smirk. "Gladly. Now, I mentioned need. In his child-like state, he feels what any child would: the need to be accepted, loved, and paid attention to. That's another reason he plays mind games: to translate his seemingly childish needs into something he understands."

"The problem with that, however, is that no one else understands," the doctor quips.

I nod, pouting a bit. "I empathize, Doctor. It is frustrating."

We shake hands as a closing while he says: "Thank you for your time and information, Ms. Napier. I think it'll prove most helpful to myself and my staff."

I smile softly, shaking my head. "No trouble at all, Doctor. I'm happy to help."
~Flashback End~

As I close my journal, I hear: "Ana baby, come to bed…"

"Coming, Jackie, honey." I kiss him as I climb in, fitting my body perfectly with his.

"What were you doing?" He asks this before yawning.

I smile mysteriously, kissing his cheek and murmuring: "Just thinking about the moment that got us here, honey…"

He falls asleep, and I rest one hand on my belly. Eh, I'll tell him in the morning…