In My Blood
by
Imagigirl20
Hello, everyone! So nice to be back after all this time. So I've had a lot of time to think about where I'm going with the character of Harleen Quinzel, and I figured I should get this story out there before the Season 5 premiere of Gotham. On the one hand, I have a feeling this is going to be the best season yet and on the other, I'm very sad because I also know it will be the last. So, just to clear some things up, in case I have any new readers: Jerome is alive in my fanfic. If you'd like a full recap of what exactly happens with Harleen Quinzel, I encourage you to check out my first Gotham fanfic, Criminal Witness. To those of you who have already read it, welcome back! Thanks for being here, I really appreciate any and all feedback I receive. Now, on to Chapter 1!
Bruce Wayne burst through the doors of Gotham General, carrying an unconscious Harleen Quinzel. Blood dripped from her fingertips onto the marble floor, creating a steady stream of red as he raced by.
"Somebody help!" Bruce yelled. "She's dying!"
A nurse quickly rushed over with a gurney and Bruce gently laid her down.
"What do we got?" a doctor said, examining her once she was secure.
"I recognize this girl", said the nurse. "Harleen Quinzel: She was brought in a few days ago, got hit by a car. We stitched her up."
"What happened to her?" said the doctor, looking at Bruce.
"She witnessed a murder", said Bruce. "Assassins by the name of the League of Shadows have been chasing her. Then Jerome Valeska kidnapped her."
"The strain must have caused her stitches to tear open", said the doctor, opening one of her eyes and shining a light. "Pupils are dilated, we're losing her; alright, let's move!"
Bruce ran his fingers through his hair as he watched them wheel Harleen away.
"Please be okay", he whispered.
A few hours later, a nurse came to talk to him.
"Mr. Wayne?" she said. "Ms. Quinzel is awake now. She's asking for you."
Bruce quickly followed the nurse to Harleen's room, where she sat up in her bed staring out the window. As she heard their footsteps, she turned and smiled.
"Hello, Bruce."
"Harleen. You look better."
"Yeah, the doctors said they had to give me a blood transfusion. Apparently, I have some rare blood type and, due to the extent of my injuries, my body couldn't accept O-negative, so they had to find a donor who had the exact same blood type."
Harleen suddenly rose from her bed, her fists clenched.
"Harleen, you need to rest", said Bruce, taking a few steps back.
"You know whose blood they gave me, Bruce?"
With surprising swiftness, Harleen was suddenly right in Bruce's face.
"Well, DO YOU?"
"Harleen, what are you-?"
He was cut off as she began laughing maniacally. Lightning flashed outside the window, followed by a clap of thunder, and Bruce gasped as Harleen's face slowly twisted into that of Jerome Valeska's. Continuing to laugh, she grabbed Bruce and held a knife to his throat.
"That's right, Brucie boy", she said, snickering. "ME!"
With a final cackle, Harleen shoved the knife into Bruce's neck, laughing as blood cascaded from his heck and onto her face. As he fell, she smeared the blood all over her/Jerome's face and tossed her head back.
"AAAAAAAH!"
Harleen Quinzel awoke in her dorm bed, sweat dripping down her back and forehead. Panting, she threw back the covers and ran to her mirror, switching on the light in the bathroom. She sighed in relief as her own face stared back at her.
"Oh, my God, what a nightmare", she breathed.
She took a few deep breaths and then sighed.
"That's it", she said. "No more snacks before bed."
She ran her fingers through her tangled web of hair and glanced at the clock. She gasped.
"Oh no, no, no, no, NO!"
She ran to her closet, quickly grabbing a black skirt and a white button-down top. Her roommate, Tracy, stirred in her sleep as she began to get dressed.
"Harleen?" she asked drowsily. "What are you doing, girl? It's Saturday. We don't have class."
"No, but I do have a job interview", Harleen said.
She slipped on her shoes and began doing her hair in a proper bun.
"Oh, that's cool", said Tracy. "What are you interviewing for?"
Harleen checked herself in the mirror and grabbed her purse, heading for the door.
"From the place that could set my future in stone as a psychiatrist, Trace", she said as she opened the door and stepped in the hallway. "Arkham Asylum."
Before Tracy could react, she slammed the door and left.
"Whatever", Tracy said to herself. "You couldn't pay me to work in that nut hut."
Shrugging, she rolled over and went back to sleep.
…
Harleen sped-walked out of the dormitories, clutching her purse to her side. She kept checking her phone. She was supposed to be at the gates by 11 am, and it was already 10:50.
"I don't have money for the bus or a cab", she thought to herself. "I'll never make it."
Harleen thought of contacting Bruce Wayne, who had said that if she ever needed anything from him, she was more than welcome to call him. But then the images from her dream flooded her mind, and she decided against the idea.
"I could never face him so soon, after what I just went through."
Then she thought of Jim Gordon, who had also said to call if she needed anything.
"What are you thinking? He probably meant to say that for emergency situations only. Being late for a job interview is not an emergency."
The only option left was to walk...and pray that they went easy on her for being late.
As Harleen raced across the street when the light was red, she suddenly had the strange feeling that she was being watched. When she reached the sidewalk, she turned around to find nobody there. Thinking it was just her imagination, she shrugged it off and continued walking. She checked her watch: 10:53. Maybe she would make it, after all.
BANG! Harleen jumped as a trash can lid rattled behind her. Images of the night she had seen a man killed plagued her mind, and she began to walk faster. As she sped up her pace, she swore she could hear footfalls behind her. Finally, Harleen began to run as fast as her legs could carry her. After a few feet, she thought back to the last time she'd had to run, from the League of Shadows, and she touched her side. Not wanting a repeat of that fateful night, she stopped. That's when she heard snickering behind her.
"What's wrong, baby?" a deep voice teased. "Those heels makin' it hard for you to run away?"
Harleen gasped and whirled around. Three men were behind her, wearing black bandanas on their heads.
"Now, why would she wanna run?" said the one on the left.
"Yeah", said the one on the right. "All we wanna do is have a little fun."
"You like fun, don't you, baby?" said the one in the middle.
Harleen was frozen stiff as the men drew closer to her.
"St-stay away from me!" she managed, and they laughed.
"Aww", said the one in the middle. "Looks like she doesn't wanna have fun with us, boys."
Harleen jumped as the one on the left sniffed her neck.
"Too bad", he said, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. "She sure is pretty. And she smells nice."
With a grunt, Harleen elbowed the man in the ribs and he stumbled back. The other two took hold of her and shoved her face against the wall. Harleen grimaced as she heard the familiar sound of a blade being unsheathed. Her eyes went wide as she found it by her face.
"Now, don't make this any harder than it has to be, baby", said the lead member.
Harleen shook as he ran his hand down her side.
"Just give us what we want, and we'll leave you alone", he said into her ear.
Harleen squeezed her eyes shut, and she felt his lips on her neck. As the man reached the scar on her side, something inside of her snapped, and she opened her eyes. She grabbed the hand that was holding the switchblade, twisted it and shoved it through the man's eye. As he screamed and released her, she ducked under him and kicked the second man's feet out from under him. Still holding the knife, she slashed it across his chest and he cried out in anguish. The third man came barreling after her, but she stood and stabbed the knife into his hand. As he stood clutching it, she grabbed the man whose eye was now bleeding and shoved him into the third man so they fell on top of the second man. Harleen growled, a dark look in her eyes as the men stared back at her.
"GET OUT OF HERE!" she screamed, and the men tripped over themselves trying to get up.
"Forget this, man!" said the one whose chest was slashed. "This bitch is CRAZY!"
The third man, with a grimace, pulled the knife from his hand and let it clatter to the ground. The third man, still holding a hand over his bloody eye, tried to follow them as best as he could.
Harleen, her fists clenched, watched them go, and then her grip loosened. She panted and ran her fingers through the side of her head. She raised an eyebrow in confusion as she felt something wet on her fingertips. Bringing her hand down, she gasped at the sight of blood. She stared after the men who had left, and then her gaze drifted to the switchblade on the sidewalk. It was coated in the men's blood.
Harleen felt sick, and images of what had just occurred passed through her mind.
"Oh, my God", she breathed. "It's happening."
The sound of a police siren approaching snapped her out of her trance, and Harleen turned to see Jim Gordon getting out of the car.
"Ma'am, are you alright?"
He froze when he saw her.
"Harleen?"
He stared at the blood on her clothes and hands, and then down at the puddle of blood on the sidewalk, and then the bloody knife.
"My God, what happened here?"
Harleen's eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she hit the ground unconscious.
So what did you think? Too much? Too little? I was designing this to be a sort of...coming-to-terms story. And for those of you looking for Jerome, don't worry-he's coming soon, I promise. But that's all for Chapter 1, guys! Be sure to shoot me a review if you liked it...or if you didn't.
-Imagigirl20