"Doctor Quinzel you're not making any progress with him." said Doctor Arkham.
"I'm trying." she said. "And he made eye contact last week. And he hasn't attacked me. That is progress."
"He still hasn't spoken." he said steepling his fingers together and looking at her over the top of his glasses.
"If I get him to talk today can I have a couple more weeks of sessions?" she said.
"The odds of him speaking to you after seven weeks of silence are very low." he said shuffling paper on his desk.
"So theres no risk." said straightening her thick framed glasses. "Please just give me a chance."
"Why are you so determined to work with him?" he said leaning forward.
"I find him interesting." she said straightening his file in her lap.
"That's one word for him. Completely insane is another."
"Aren't we here to try to help him?" she said.
"Some people are-" he said.
"No one is incurable." she said. "No one is beyond help."
"Spoken like a true first year medical student." he said. "Your session starts in a few minutes."
"Thank you." she said standing tugging on the folded hem of her skirt.
She rushed down the cement hallways flashing her security card at the appropriate checkpoints. When she got the the maximum security area she had to scan her card nodding at the guard behind the plexiglass shield. He waved not looking up from his television. She made it to one of the therapy rooms and had to sign the roster before another guard would open the door for her. "He's in a mood today." he said. "Nearly started a riot during breakfast."
"Good to know." she said dismissively.
"You don't seem to be helping too much." he said still not unlocking the door.
"I wasn't aware you went to medical school." she said.
"I didn't." said the guard.
"Then can you stop psychoanalyzing my patients, unlock the door and let me do it?" she said huffing at him. He unlocked the door glaring at her and she heard him mutter 'Bitch' under his breath. She took a deep breath before unlocking the secondary door with her key card and pushing into the small brightly lit room. "Hello." she said sitting across from him. He looked up at her not responding. She pulled out her tape recorder placing it on the desk and flipped it on.
"I was just talking to Doctor Arkham." she said pulling his folder out and placing it on the table laying it out to take her notes. "He said I'm not making any progress with you which I frankly don't agree with. But if I don't start making more I won't get something he deems as useful then I probably won't get any more sessions with you." She looked up at him from her papers. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. But if you won't talk then hey I will." He was staring straight at her but didn't move.
"I'll probably get fired." she said. "And Arkham will look at me from behind that huge over-compensating desk and tell me how he was right and I shouldn't have taken on such a challenging case so young." He sat back in his chair crossing his arms over his chest. "But you know what? I don't think I have. I think I'm making progress, I think I'm doing something."
"I always found your case fascinating. I know I'm probably way too young and inexperienced to handle something like this but The Joker rocked his neck from side to side and she could hear it crack. Then she broke one of the first rules she learned at Arkham Asylum and turned off the tape player. He looked at it and she swore he looked almost impressed. "Will you do something for me?" she said leaning forward slightly. "If I'm not doing anything here, if I'm not helping you and this is a waste of both of our time then just say that. Or don't say it because you don't talk to me. Snap your fingers or whistle or something." she said.
She flipped the tape player back on again then off. "Is there a reason you don't talk to me?" she said. "I mean you yell at the other patients and harass the orderlies and verbally assault the guards. Why won't you talk to me?" He arched an eyebrow at her. "My boyfriend or... guy I'm dating says I shouldn't be at Arkham at all. He thinks I should be working with bored housewives telling them their mothers messed them up and none of their problems are their fault. But I want to do something useful. I want to make an impact. But he thinks I'm, for lack of a better word crazy. He's probably going to break up with me and bang that girl who works at his building. So tell me what do you think I should do?" She dropped her head into her hands staring at her piles of notes.
"It's Joker not ." he said. Her head snapped up and she looked at him her mouth open. She had heard his voice screaming across the courtyard but had never heard him talking in such a low calm voice. "You're pretty. You do know that?"
"Did you just- You talked you spoke to me." He nodded and leaned back again. "Oh my god you spoke to me I can't believe this I- This means I'm not getting fired, I get more sessions with you and-" She looked at the tape recorder which was off. "Holy shit. The recorder is off. Shit, shit, shit. No one is going to believe me, No one is going to believe that you spoke to me they're going to think I made it up. There's no way-" He leaned over and pressed the record button.
"It's Joker not Mr. Joker." he said and sat back. She looked up at him even more surprised.
"Thank you." she mouthed silently. He didn't speak for the rest of the session or the next two sessions but those five words got her 12 more weeks of sessions. She asked him hundreds of questions over the next 12 weeks but not once did she ask him why she hadn't repeated the other six words he had spoken to her into the tape recorder. She asked him he had repeated the first half of the first words he ever said to her into the tape recorder for her and he said something along the lines of her being nicer to look at then Arkham's nose hair. But she never asked and he never answered.