Disclaimer: Characters are property of D.C. Comics; I receive no financial gain from writing this.
A/N: Doctor Harleen Quinzel is based on the likeness of actress Traylor Howard.
"Why do you call yourself the Joker?" Asked the young doctor who sat across a table from the Joker in a concrete walled room on the grainy black and white screen.
On a similar screen beside that one the same woman appeared to be on the floor of a small utility closet on all fours and screaming. Her face was bruised and her broken glasses lay on the floor nearby while the Joker laughed.
The patient has shown no response to medications given to him by prior physicians. At this time, I am removing him from those medications using the stepping-down method and prescribing him 2mg Lorazepam in the interim to help with anxiety. At that point I will begin him on Abilify and go from there. Her notes read after their first session.
"I don't remember anything past two years ago" the Joker replied hazily on another screen.
"Is that when you got the scars?" Doctor Harleen Quinzel asked pushing her round glasses up her nose with one finger. Her pretty features offset by her overly large frames and the tight bun she'd pulled her blonde hair into.
Bruce Wayne took another drink of coffee and set his jaw as he watched the various recordings once again. Commissioner Gordon had taken a big risk by giving the Dark Knight copies of the surveillance and session tapes from Arkham but with a hostage he felt it was well worth it.
Two hours ago the Joker had sent the news stations a new tape making threats and the young doctor being at the core.
"Do you understand the meaning of crime?" The Joker asked leaning toward Doctor Quinzel.
"Why don't you tell me what you think it is?" She replied studiously. He scoffed and shook his head.
"It's simply breaking the laws or rules of society. Do you know that in some places, I haven't done anything wrong? In fact, I would be wrongly imprisoned. In Gotham that's a crime." He replied in a tone Bruce well remembered.
"You belong to this society and must adhere by its rules." She replied sharply. Joker rolled his eyes.
"In this society it's against the law to tear those little tags off of pillows." He said. "You know why? It's because people are so stupid that they need to be reminded that it's not a good idea to set their pillows on fire and that this isn't the one magical one that they can set fire to without burning their own house down."
"Yes, there are rules in place to help those with poor judgment skills." She said. He regarded her skeptically.
"Yeah, that's why we have so many goddamned warnings, for everything! And a lot of those warnings are backed by law making the actions criminal. I thought about this one day when I needed to buy a new pillow. I stood there reading that warning label and you know what I did?" He asked tilting his head at her.
"You cut the tag off the pillow before you bought it?" She replied.
"That one and every other one in the aisle. In fact I believe it's become a compulsive behavior of mine. I can't walk past a pillow without ripping those damned tags off." He said.
On another screen the Joker told her about how he had trouble forming relationships with people and another told terrible stories of abuse by the hands of his father. Bruce watched each screen, observing the behaviors of the players on them as the Joker systematically broke through Doctor Quinzel's professional barrier and she began to sympathize with him. Only she never seemed to realize it.
Her notes told how she found contradictions he made with every session, yet the tapes showed her entranced by his storytelling. She had begun to like her patient and it was at that time she should have walked away as a seasoned professional would have.
But she was not seasoned, only a mere intern who never should have been left alone in the same room with the Joker. Joan Leland tearfully admitted that herself to Gordon and had told him that her and Doctor Michaelson had initially put Doctor Quinzel with the Joker so he would scare her. They thought she was a sham to the psychiatric community and was a glory seeking sycophant waiting to be given the right patient to write a book about and become famous. Their intention had been to drive her out of Arkham. In a way, they had succeeded.
Bruce typed a few commands and all screens displayed the final session recording. Doctor Quinzel leaned toward the Joker smiling.
"Why do you call yourself the Joker?" She asked. He regarded her blankly.
"As supposed to what?" He replied.
"Well, a lot of criminals go by a different name than their given name, one associated with their criminal personas. Zodiac, Scarecrow," she began but was cut off by his laughter.
"Are you asking what was funny about my crimes?" He laughed. She shook her head.
"No. These other people differentiate their 'straight' lives from their criminal personas. You are different. You perpetuate this image of a homicidal clown to everyone. You've changed your hair color; you presumably mutilated yourself if those stories are true. You became the Joker. You left whatever life you previously led behind and assumed an entirely different identity. Why did you choose this one?" She asked sincerely.
"I know your colleagues think less of you, Harley. They think you're stupid, vapid, undeserving of your place here. You show me your ignorance every time you speak. You try to appear sophisticated but I can tell that you really are as cheap as you are rumored to be. So why do you choose to live this way?" He replied.
She sat back, taken aback and her lips parted slightly and she blinked a few times. Bruce assumed she was blinking back tears from the Joker's verbal slap in the face.
"Are you going to cry, because that would be just amazing," he stated flatly.
"You're not so much different from the rest of these people. They, you are all clowns to someone else. Entertaining each other's preconceptions of reality and marching to the death rattle of your societal rules. I never said I was funny, Harley. But I don't hide who I really am like the rest of you either. I am the most honest and genuine person you will ever meet in your sad little life. And I think we've played this little game for long enough."
With that the Joker raised a hand and dropped the pair of handcuffs he had been wearing on the table with a loud clatter in the small room. Doctor Quinzel gasped as he lunged for her and yanked her from her seat and onto the table. He quickly moved around it, shoving her hard against it before striking her across the face. Then he placed both of his hands around her throat and leaned close to her, shushing her before speaking to her in an inaudible voice, murmuring in her ear.
Bruce knew he was instructing her in what was to come next.