Chapter One, 'And here we go'
Oh god, I've been so reluctant to post this story… I mean, I LOVE the Dark Knight, I LOVE the Joker and I LOVE Harley Quinn, but still…I'm so scared I'm gonna screw this up and have everyone come down on me like a ton of bricks :s
But yeah, I posted it anyway, so I'll just have to wear the consequences, whatever they be. I've been doing my best and although it starts off rather slow, I can with all certainty promise you that it will get better. It's just slow in the beginning to allow me to really set the stage and to develop Harley a little.
Anyway, enough excuses and whimpering from me…On with the show!
When she'd told her family and friends of her intentions to obtain a psychoanalyst's intern position at Arkham Asylum, she got mixed results. These results mainly being a disbelieving expression coupled with confusion.
At first, Harleen had always tried to take the time to rectify this error by explaining exactly what her career would entail and how it would help the city greatly. However, as it turned out, it wasn't that they found her choice in career humorous so much as their private beliefs that she'd bitten off more then she could chew. Arkham Asylum was infamous for being a dangerous place to work, both physically and mentally. More then one employee had ended up in a cell themselves.
Even Harleen's boyfriend, Jeff Muller, had raised concerns. Only this time, they'd been about her specifically and in particular, his doubts about her mental stability for choosing such a career.
"So lemme get this straight," He'd said slowly, after listening to her talk excitedly about the prospect of obtaining the internship, "You wanna get a job where you talk to insane serial rapists and killers all day?"
She'd fallen silent, hearing the incredulity in his voice and not trusting herself to give a civil response. It turned out her silence hadn't even registered with him, he kept talking.
"No offense Harleen, but you're a weirdo."
Seriously insulted, she'd promptly dumped Jeff. She'd always known he wasn't necessarily the best match for her, but that particular piece of insensitivity from him was excessive. Besides, it was far too close to the true reason she was so attracted to working with criminals.
The truth was, she was searching for the truth of her existence in her career. As a teenager, Harleen had been almost like two people. Around her family and teachers, she was academic, charming and well-behaved. Around her friends however, she became a juvenile delinquent, spending her days smoking, drinking and stealing whatever she could get her hands on for personal resale. At the peak of her 'criminal career', Harleen had been running a black market of drugs, stolen property and on occasion, guns, through her school and had even been on a first name basis with some of the Maroni kids her age. (She hadn't spoken to any of the Maroni's in ages now, although there was a strange email waiting for her in her office…)
And then it all stopped. A friend of her dad's, a police sergeant had inadvertently stumbled onto her illegal activities one day, busting the mob bar where she'd been trying to fence stolen DVDs and jewellery. Taking pity on her, he'd given her the warning that he'd let her off this one time, but if he ever caught her running with scum again, he'd arrest her himself and make sure she served time as a juvenile offender. Her sense of self-preservation well tuned, Harleen had been more then happy to accept the deal.
So, she'd quit the crime life. She hadn't been back in years. The only problem was, she missed it. This confused her enormously. She knew crime was supposed to be wrong, and yet Harleen missed it all. Thus, the attraction of working with criminals. Harleen though that maybe, she'd find an explanation for her strange cravings for danger and trouble in one of the Asylum's patients. And if this didn't prove to be the case, she could at least live vicariously through the stories of the inmates.
Harleen tried not to think of how, ultimately, her life really was aimless and empty beyond her career. Somehow, she'd managed to cut herself off completely from family and friends in her quest for personal insight.
"Harleen, you busy?"
Harleen raised her brows and looked up from the lukewarm cup of coffee she'd been considering drinking. Angela Matthews, another Intern, looked at her anxiously, blue eyes wide and framed by her blonde hair. Harleen herself had blonde hair and blue eyes, but she liked to think that she at least didn't look like a ditz the way Angela did.
"Not at all," Harleen replied, "Just on my lunchbreak, the only rest I get from my nine hour shift all day. Not busy at all."
"Oh thank god." Angela sighed, sliding into the seat next to Harleen. She never seemed to understand when her colleague was being sarcastic. It was almost like Harleen was speaking a different language for all the comprehension of sarcasm Angela had. "Because I really need help with my work…"
Before Harleen could open her mouth to protest (and protest had most definitely been on her mind), Angela dumped three heavy folders on the cafeteria table in front of them and began pulling bundles of papers and reports from them. Harleen regarded the pile of paperwork with mild horror.
"It's this patient," Angela cried dramatically, stabbing a personnel file with her manicured finger, "Gresham Kawasai. Doctor Ives wants a preliminary report from me, but I just don't know what to make of this guy! I mean, his behaviour is all over the shop! Auditory hallucinations, primary and secondary delusions…I swear to God-"
"Psychosis." Harleen replied, only half listening. "Gresham Kawasai suffers from psychosis. Put a suggestion in your report for him to be placed on Aripiprazole."
"Oh." Angela's mouth formed a big 'O', framing the word with surprise. "Oh yeah. Of course, that makes sense. Thanks Harleen, I'll do that. Um, you enjoy the rest of your break, yeah?"
Waiting until Angela had scurried off to locations unknown, Harleen snorted and turned back to her coffee. The prospect of swilling the bitter, now cold liquid was unappealing, but she really needed the caffeine. Night duty was murder; the only way she ever made it through them was by drowning her metabolic system in every legal stimulant available to her. So, wrinkling her nose in disgust, Harleen poured the Styrofoam cup of coffee down her throat. To her credit, she only gagged once and that was more a psychological, deliberate gesture rather then a genuine response.
After depositing the cup in the trash, Harleen straightened her coat, washed her hands and headed back to the admin desk to pick up the reports and patient info she'd left behind.
"And here we go." She muttered to herself, trying not to feel pessimistic about her chances of finding personal revelation tonight.
"Are you my new doctor?"
Harleen offered Sanjay Pirii a smile. Maybe it was just the drugs, but it seemed that Sanjay wasn't as agitated by her presence today as he was normally. Harleen hoped it was a good sign. It would be the first one since Sanjay's admittance to Arkham Asylum.
"No Sanjay," she replied kindly, "I'm helping the doctor though. Would you mind answering some questions for me?"
She waited for the man's response with bated breath. Normally, Sanjay's medication proved largely ineffective and upon registering her presence, he'd attack Harleen. However, a new drug had been developed, coming out of the medical branch of Wayne Enterprises. It both sedated patients just enough to keep them calm and also improved rational thought patterns. The only down side was that it seemed to have retardant effects on the short term memory and on basic thought speech patterns. Thus Sanjay not recognising Harleen, despite having met her several times since being admitted to Arkham, two months ago.
"'Kay." Sanjay muttered, "S'pose that's ok."
Although inwardly triumphant, Harleen remained calm. She gave Sanjay another smile and tried to look as friendly as possible.
"Okay, that's great." She said encouragingly, "Now, can you tell me anything about Michelle Justins?"
Recognition flickered through Sanjay's eyes at the mention of his first victim's name. He nodded sluggishly and scratched the side of his face idly.
"Yeah." He nodded eagerly, "She pretty, very pretty."
Harleen narrowed her eyes, remembering what she could from the murder file on Michelle Justins. From memory, Michelle Justins had been small and a model…
"And did you ever meet her Sanjay?"
Sanjay nodded again, imitating a bobble-head.
"Yeah!" He grinned widely and a trickle of drool oozed from his mouth, "Like I said, very pretty. I find her walk home."
Harleen tensed. Now was the crucial moment. If she could just worm a confession out of this man, he could be transferred into high security where he belonged…
"What did you do when you met her Sanjay?"
Even heavily sedated, there was no mistaking the feral, greedy glint that entered Sanjay's eyes. Harleen looked at the drooling, overweight and feral man and resisted the urge to shudder from disgust.
"I pushed her over," Sanjay giggled, more drool trickling from his mouth, "And I made her all naked!"
"Right." Harleen remembered then. Post-mortem examination had revealed that Michelle had been raped prior to death. "And you killed her…after?"
"Kill…" For a moment, Harleen thought Sanjay was fighting the sedation. Then, the brief flicker of intelligence in his eyes died and his languid, dopey smile returned. "Made her bleed. I picked up a big rock and smacked her head in. She would'a told police."
Inadvertently, Harleen's eyes flickered over to the one-way mirror where her mentor, Doctor Vahns watched. Sanjay noticed the gesture and suddenly, rage contorted his features.
"He told me you spy on me!" He roared, springing to his feet, "He tells me! He tells me…HE TELL ME!"
Before Harleen could run for the door, Sanjay lunged at her and tackled her to the ground. Flailing blindly, Sanjay punched Harleen in the face a couple of times before Doctor Vahns and two orderlies came crashing into the room. Sanjay was torn away from Harleen, re-sedated and carried out of the room. Doctor Vahns stayed behind to help Harleen to her feet. He let go of her hands very quickly.
"Are you alright?" He asked, eyeing her doubtfully, "Your nose isn't broken?"
Harleen shook her head empathetically, dabbing at the blood.
"No," she gasped, trying to get her breath back, "Just sore. What did Sanjay mean?"
Doctor Vahns frowned at her and stood back to give Harleen room to brush herself off. He was a rather avoidant man anyway, prone to doing his best to remove himself from situations of physical contact or emotional instability. He looked sad and lonely truthfully, hangdog and awkward in his perfectly pressed scrubs and white coat.
"Pardon?"
"Sanjay said 'he told me you spy on me'," Harleen said, "What did he mean by that?"
Doctor Vahns looked very alarmed suddenly. Harleen didn't blame him. This could mean that Sanjay was experiencing a worsening in his auditory hallucinations, or it could mean he was illicitly communicating with other patients. Either option was bad.
"I'm not sure," He replied tersely, "And with building construction going on, I don't have time to look into it…"
Harleen grimaced. As part of Gotham City's legal and infrastructural revival, Arkham Asylum was being required to undergo some 'modifications'. This meant they were just getting the building remodelled to look 'more public friendly'. God forbid they actually get something practical done to the building. In the mean time, it was playing havoc with Arkham's security and administrative organisation.
"I'll look into it." She said eventually, seeing no other alternative, "I can work some overtime-"
"-Unpaid." Doctor Vahns said pointedly, "Our budget can't handle any paid overtime at the moment. Especially not for an Intern."
'Money-grubbing asshole.' Harleen thought savagely. She already had trouble just paying for her tiny apartment in the Narrows on top of groceries, toiletries and the other utility bills. It wouldn't kill Vahns to pass a few extra dollars her way, just to ease the pressure a little. But then, as good a doctor as he was, Vahns was renown for being tight with money.
"In that case," Harleen said as calmly as she could, "Maybe I should reconsider-"
"Harleen," Doctor Vahns shot her a glare, "You volunteered for the job. It's my recommendation you don't break your word to me. It might cause me to consider your continued internship at this facility to be a…foolish notion."
Harleen gritted her teeth and tried not to clench her fists. She felt like throttling her mentor. For a moment, she honestly thought she would, her anger and outrage was so great. Then, the thought of her being carried out of here by the orderlies, like Sanjay had just been, occurred to her. Releasing a pent-up growl as a sigh, Harleen forced herself to smile and nod obsequiously.
"Of course," She said, voice shaking a little from the effort of remaining polite, "I made a mistake, and I shall rectify it. I'll get started on the problem now."
"Excellent." Doctor Vahns beamed, suddenly all charm, "I look forward to reading your report in two days time."
As the Doctor left the room, leaving Harleen alone surrounded by the white walls and floor, she flipped him off crankily. Whilst it was highly unprofessional and immature, it made her feel a little better. A very little.
"Harleen, I got the information you needed." Daniel Bergmann was always as prompt as possible with her requests. Efficiency was something Harleen cherished and heaven knew they saw little enough of it here. She accepted the small stack of papers from him gratefully.
"Thankyou Daniel." She said, quickly flicking through the first few pages, "I really…"
She trailed off, suddenly tensing. Daniel looked at her curiously.
"Did I forget something?" He asked.
Harleen shook her head slowly, seemingly transfixed by the page in front of her. Daniel tried to look over her shoulder at it, but it was impossible.
"What is it?" He asked impatiently.
"Sanjay Pirii's auditory hallucinations were slacking off," she said quietly, "So that leaves only illicit inter-patient communication as an option…He only has an occupied cell on one side; only this person, this 'neighbour', could have communicated with him…"
"And?"
Harleen swallowed dryly.
"We have a problem. Sanjay's 'neighbour' is the Joker."
Daniel swore under his breath viciously and Harleen gave him a pale, suddenly wan look. She smiled weakly.
"Yeah," she said, "Exactly."
So...Exactly how bad did it suck? I'm updating pretty much right after this, so you'll have chapter two to complain about as well! Yay!