Today everything was going to change. It was the day that Dr. Harleen Quinzel had been waiting so eagerly for. A day that would not only define her career, but her efforts in life thus far. She had a chance to prove that it hadn't all just been a horrible mistake, that all those who had dared to doubt and mock her were wrong. It would prove she was capable, intelligent and worth so much more than she'd been told in the past. She needed that.
Harleen was finally going to meet the Joker in session. The man with the biggest reputation out of all the residents at Arkham was to be one of her own patients. That was if you could even consider him to be a man. The Joker had evolved into more of a symbol of late, his actions scarring Gotham's residents for generations to come. If she was able to make progress with him, she could single handedly restore Gotham's confidence in Arkham. She could help people to feel safe again. Yet, as she gained the opportunity to prove herself as a proficient psychiatrist once and for all, she didn't feel ready. Her degree, her dissertation, her months of internships and study; everything she'd ever worked for had led up to this pinnacle make or break moment in her career and it terrified her. What if all her work had been for nothing? What if her doubters were correct? What would she do then? She couldn't go back to being Harleen Quinzel. She just couldn't. The young doctor suddenly felt the weight of every decision she'd ever made bearing down on her shoulders. Dr. Quinzel felt dizzy. That couldn't be a good sign.
Harleen shook her head vigorously in an attempt to shake her doubts away, struggling to maintain her usual professional confidence. This opportunity really had her on edge but who could blame her? The Joker was dangerous. I can do this. Harleen thought desperately, she just hoped it was true. Doubt continued to worm its way into her mind, its creeping sickness toying with her thoughts. It wasn't the first time self-doubt had grounded her. Her mind flashed back to the fall that crippled her gymnastics career. If she'd trusted herself she would never have fell. She would have still been competing today instead of hiding, scared witless in her tiny office. Shaky hands brought a steaming coffee to red lips. Perhaps more coffee would help. The young doctor tried to convince herself it was the caffeine making her shake. This was after all her third cup that morning. Regardless the excuse felt hollow.
Harleen had spent the past seven months' painstakingly proving herself to the other Doctors. Only to choke now that her moment to shine was within her grasp. What the hell is wrong with you Harl? Come on. Pull yourself together. She urged silently, blowing the coffee in a vain attempt to cool it. You got this chick. Harleen imnodded, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. That was much better, she just had to give herself a moment. Everyone got nervous now and again, this was exactly that. The justifications came rolling forward as she thumbed over her new patients file. The name read 'unknown' with 'Jack Napier' scrawled in pencil above the typed script. "Who are you Jack?" She asked, sipping at her coffee once more. "Will you let me find out?" Her afterthought was a whisper. She was desperate to make a breakthrough with him. No one would dare to doubt her again if she succeeded. She had to make that happen.
Harleen turned the cover page, wincing slightly at the photo included with the file. The Joker's last assigned doctor had met a grisly fate at his bleached hands. The memory of the blood stained room Dr. Wilson and the Joker had held their last session in was fresh in her mind. So were the tortured screams of the poor late doctor. He had been a good man but a stubborn doctor. The Joker hadn't appreciated his incessant line of questioning and had made his complaint clear with Dr. Wilson's mutilated body. On the walls he'd written his laughter in blood. That and a name, Jack Napier. A police search had drawn a blank on that lead. No one knew why the Joker had written it.
Nonetheless, Harleen really did not need a photo to remind her of the gruesome details but her boss had insisted on including it with the patient file. Dr. Joan Leland had wanted to remind her that her new patient was no normal Arkham resident, that was if you could call any of them truly 'normal' patients. There was something about Gotham that turned people sick. Something raw that lurked in the street shadows and preyed on the weak and vulnerable. This city ate its inhabitants alive, those that survived did not do so unscathed
Dr. Wilson's demise hadn't exactly been a shock to the department, but it left Harleen feeling as green as she ever had. She knew his death was the primary reason she got this position. Harleen had been the only practising psychiatrist available to fill the Joker's usual appointment slot and she was one of the lucky doctors not overburdened with patients due to her intern status. Now she just had to prove she deserved the chance. Wilson wasn't the first to fall victim to the Joker in session and Harleen couldn't kick the fear that he would not be the last. She couldn't let herself become another but the odds were stacked against her. Between escapes, murders and traumatising his psychologists no doctor had ever survived with the Joker for a period longer than three months. Come hell or high water this would be her perfect 10.
Harleen had asked upon arrival to Arkham why the volatile and dangerous patients like him were still treated in one on one counselling sessions when they clearly endangered the staff. She was handed a thick protocol file stamped with the Wayne enterprise logo in response. It appeared the life of Arkham's employees meant very little when pitted against the funding they received from Gotham's resident playboy and apparent philanthropist. She wondered what the pretty boy Bruce Wayne thought about what happened in the asylum, dismissing the thought almost immediately. She suspected Arkham never crossed his mind.
Harleen lent against her desk, coffee cup still held in her grip. She tucked a rogue strand of blonde hair behind her ear as she waited for Leland to come and collect her. The Joker must have been let out of solitary confinement around an hour ago, a quick check of her wrist watch confirmed that, which meant her session with him would be soon. Harleen released a shaky breath, shutting her eyes for a moment when Leland knocked on her door and entered. Harleen jumped, slamming the coffee cup down on her desk so as not to spill it. "Joan, ah! You startled me." She blurted out, spinning to face her boss with a weak smile.
Joan held the door and frowned, clearly disconcerted by young doctor's reaction. If she had been startled so easily now, what on earth would she be like in the Joker's company? Joan pursed her lips before speaking, examining Harleen with a penetrating gaze. "If we need to reschedule your appointment with the Joker today then we can. We can always wait until I find someone that's a bit more... experienced at this sort of thing."
Harleen shook her head before speaking. "I-no! I'll be fine. I'm ready for this." I am ready for this. She repeated silently in a firm tone. She wasn't just trying to convince her boss that she could do this. Harleen beamed at Joan, her smile wide and convincing. "I was just getting into the zone before I meet him. I want to be as prepared as possible."
"I well… Look Harleen, for your own safety you need to understand that you cannot really prepare for whatever is wrong with him. He's different." Joan offered the young intern the best advice she thought she could. A gentle reminder of the truth never hurt.
"This session is for introductory purposes and to reacquaint the Joker with his old schedule after his 'stint' in solitary." Leland sighed deeply, Dr. Wilson had been a dear friend of hers and his loss had hurt her. Even after all these years of trying not to get close to her staff she had failed. Joan knew it always ended the same way when the Joker was involved. He was toxic. For the resident clown he had a rather twisted sense of humour. "It's supposed to make a patients transition back into the main wing of Arkham less turbulent." Joan continued albeit a little tersely. Harleen noted Leland didn't believe a word she was saying, the woman was usually so strong and professional. But standing there in her office doorway, Leland looked tired. Harleen had never seen her look this way before.
Joan Leland led her to the high security session room, briefing Arkham's intern about all the safety precautions one last time. Dr. Leland's words blurred together, Harleen simply couldn't focus on them. Not that it really mattered, Harleen already had all the rules memorised. Dr. Arkham and Dr. Leland had already made her complete numerous tests regarding the health and safety protocols of a session with the Joker. As well as subjecting her to numerous tests, forms and risk assessments. It had all been rather extensive preparation process, yet still she feared it might not quite be enough.
Joan took the panic button out of her lab coat pocket and held it out for Harleen to take. "If you need us. Call. If you feel threatened. Call. If he does anything that you don't feel is appropriate or that you don't trust. Call." Dr. Leland narrowed her eyes at Harleen, who didn't quite seem to be paying attention anymore. "Harleen are you listening to me?" She demanded, pursing her lips when Harleen still did not take the device.
"Y-yes Dr. Leland. Yes I am." She took the panic button from her superior, examining it for a moment before placing it in her lab coat pocket. "Sorry, I am listening. I realise how much you're all trusting me with this session. I will call the moment I feel threatened or uneasy. I promise."
Dr. Leland winced slightly. She could see it plain as day, Harleen was too young, too fresh and most of all too eager to be dealing with a patient like the Joker. She had tried to get someone else assigned to his case to little avail. "Harleen, just be careful… Please."
The young blonde smiled, a genuinely warm smile gracing her lips. "Oh, I almost forgot!" She exclaimed, passing Joan her half empty cup of coffee. "No liquids. Especially not tepid ones!" She added in jest, recalling the regulations manual. Joan offered her a weak smile, before turning to leave. "I'll see you in my office for the debrief Dr. Quinzel." Joan paused in her departure, as if contemplating her next words. "Good luck in there."
Harleen nodded curtly in response, turning on her heel and opening the door to the session room. Scurrying in, she made sure to place the Joker's files in the allocated space on her side of the table. She clipped them into place using the magnetised strip, activated only by the staff ID cards. Then she posted the ID card in the clear box by the exit door. "Step one." She murmured recalling her protocol files as she glanced around the room. It was a lack lustre grey concrete, not exactly the healing environment she'd been taught about in University. This room looked like it was better suited for an interrogation. It put her on edge. She wondered how it made the patients feel. Harleen, hugged her arms close to her chest, heading back to the steel table. She took her seat gingerly, anxiously crossing her legs. At least the furniture was bolted to the ground, she noted, that meant it wouldn't be flying around anywhere during the session. That was reassuring at least.
A moment passed and she waited, about to check her watch when the door handle wrenched downwards. Harleen felt her stomach lurch. It was finally time. The Joker was here.