Hi! So, let's pretend we're in a world where Harley Quinn already existed during the Dark Knight! Thanks! I don't know why, but I just imagined this and I was like, this is it, I love this idea. I hope you do too! Here it is! And remember: pretend!
And there she was. It was still Harleen Quinzel on the outside, but on the inside, Harleen was gone, and was forever replaced with Harley Quinn. Harleen Quinzel was merely a memory.
Oh darling, don't start feeling sorry for yourself.
He broke her. He tore her heart open, and he ripped out the sane thoughts in her head and replaced them with his own. The Joker was in her head, and he wouldn't get out.
God, you're so weak. Oh wait, you've already abandoned God for your Joker, sorry that I forgot!
She thought that she was special to him. That's what he told her. But he used her. And he didn't even feel guilty about it.
Well, you've already known that he has no guilty conscience.
But she had already left her old life as Harleen Quinzel behind, and knew that she was stuck as Harley Quinn. So she followed her "Puddin'" around, strutting around Gotham, setting fire to the streets she grew up in, watching the horror in those innocent people's faces, watching herself drowning in the insanity and chaos that was the Joker. After all, there was nothing left to live for but him.
Thought you could save him from his own fate? Darling, it's already too late for him. He's been gone for a while.
She ran down the dark streets after him, laughing wildly, her blonde hair flying, her eyes following him as he drove a knife through her heart, metaphorically. It was times like these that killed her and warmed her heart. He stopped and so did she and he scooped her into his arms and kissed her oh-so passionately, but she was already too lost in insanity to know that he didn't love her, and he never would.
What did you expect, stupid? He's the Joker, after all, and he'll never love you, because he can't love anyone.
She was confused, really. Confused between what was love and what was obsession. Confused between what was a dream and what was reality. And confused between what was good and what was evil. After all, how could anything be bad if it felt so good?
Well, let's see. The Joker, bad. Harley Quinn, bad. Insanity, bad. Chaos, bad. Death, for you dear Harley, good.
And that one time, she messed up, didn't she?
God, you're so stupid!
She swore to keep her Joker in line, but no, he had to get this brilliant idea to crash Bruce Wayne's party, and had to fall into obsession (you see, not love, obviously) with stupid Rachel Dawes and all of her perfection.
It's easier for anyone to fall for Rachel, and not you, because you're Harley Quinn. Oh whoops, you think you're Harleen? You're wrong.
She's just a challenge, Harley told herself, her insecurities starting to get the better of her. She's just a doll that he'll throw away when he gets bored. He'll come back to her. He had to.
Why would he want to?
And the day she realized just where she was in life was when that stupid Rachel Dawes asked her why she was doing this. Harley had heard those questions before. Why are you doing this? Why are you with him? Why would you stay with the Joker, of all people? Harley laughed. Why wouldn't she stay with the Joker? He was everything perfect in her mind, even though it was him who ruined her. He was her creator.
What are we in? Twilight? Creator? Like vampires and stuff? Guess what Harley! We're in the Dark Knight!
Don't do this! Don't do it! Harley watched the blood fly from Rachel Dawes's face, and she enjoyed watching Rachel Dawes cry out in pain. Her Joker had been getting too interested in this stupid girl, and she would finish her for him.
So much for keeping the lunars on the path. Really, someone ought to do that for you.
No! She fell from her fiery, bloody pedestal, and watched as he looked at Rachel Dawes and not her. He pushed her to the ground and slapped her just like she had done with Rachel Dawes.
And now you're going to get it. Good. Thank you, Joker!
She ran as he screamed at her to get out. The tears fell from her blue eyes and she leaned against a brick wall, and she knew that it wasn't her. He'd never love her like she loved him. He'd never need her the way she needed him. Because her hair was too blonde, not brown, and her eyes were too cold, not warm, like stupid Rachel Dawes. She should've killed that little bitc- Don't swear Harleen!
Do it Harley, I dare you.
She screamed and she kicked and she cried and she knew exactly what he had done to her. He used her. He used her. He used her.
Repetitive, much?
He used her.
Still not over that?
And she got the last piece of the puzzle. Just like Rachel Dawes (at least she hoped), she was just a part of the game. His game. She was a toy, just like Rachel Dawes. She was just a bit of fun. Because really, the joke (his cruel, cruel joke) wasn't just on Rachel Dawes, or Gotham. No. The joke was on her, and she was too lost in him to realize it. The joke was on her. The Joker was in her.
God girl, you're just another mess-up. Get your act together-ah. You're a big girl now, aren't you, Harley Quinn? Harlequin? The joke's on you! You were just part of the game! But it was fun while you were in it.
So, what'd ya think? If it's confusing, please tell me, but if you got that the last paragraph was in the Joker's POV, good job! But I hope that it was good. Please review!