"Harls, it's me." He laughed, sure she was trying to pull one over on him, "Your worst nightmare!" He laughed again, but this time with a nervous bit of vigor.
But she just stared at him blankly. His eyes grew wide for a fraction of a second, before his brow furrowed and he looked annoyed. He wasn't in the mood to play any games. Not after the nuisance of fishing her out by her pigtails minutes ago. But he held his patience. "Okay, very cute Dr. Quinzel, now let's go inside." He had parked the car outside of the penthouse, hoping no one would notice it. He wasn't too worried though, because all of the neighbors were people who worked for him one way or the other, and wouldn't rat on him if they valued their existence.
She had been strewn about his lap lazily, so he tried to scoop her up and whisk her inside, but she scrambled from his reach and draped her arms about herself, shivering against the black car windowpane, her clothes dripping still.
"I'm not going anywhere wit' ya until ya tell me what the hell is happening." Her voice shook, like it had in the beginning, when she hadn't fully surrendered to her true calling. J found a wave of uncertainty about her that he hadn't felt since the first therapy session in which they met… ever since they left Arkam he had felt completely confident in the fact that Harley would never betray him, or be too afraid of him to the point of exposing him. No… This was new. She looked at him like a beaten puppy might look at their abuser, something that he didn't mind comparing his scummy victims too, but seeing her genuinely frightened gave him a kind of pause. He leaned forward, his hands up as if to show her he didn't mean her any harm (for once). "I said stop it clownboy! What're ya deaf?" She was trying to open the door but it was locked, and she was too freaked out to figure out where the unlock button was. The "clownboy" remark made him smirk and he tried to compose himself.
"Harls, listen to me. It's not safe- Just let me take you inside." He reached for her slowly. "You're obviously off your rocker… I mean… More than usual." She threw him a daggering look as she continued to fumble with the switches and handle on the door.
A little irritated now, that she wasn't listening, J rushed at her and grabbed her hands, pinning them behind her back. He pressed his free hand against her head, just enough to push it to the outwardly dripping windowpane and keep her there. "You do as I say. Got it?" She looked back at him sideways, her eyes wide in… shock? Or something worse? He felt the need to explain.
"I don't know what's happening either. One moment we were having the time of our- nevermind." He seemed annoyed at himself for getting sidetracked. "I think you've lost some memory. And I want to help you." Her face changed a bit when he said that. Did she understand? Did she remember?
"O-okay. I'll let you help me.."
She didn't say puddin at the end of that sentence, and the absence of it pricked him a bit. He shook it off and picked her up. "Good girl. Let's go inside."
She didn't put up a fight when he rounded the car, opened her door and picked her up. It was the same way he had held her when they had jumped from the bridge. That felt like days ago now…
"Johnny! Johnny!" He hollered into the quiet penthouse. Harley flinched in his arms at the sound of his voice piercing the silence so urgently. He put a white tattooed hand over her ear that wasn't pressed to his chest before yelling again.
"Johnathan, you slow bastard!" Usually he had better lines, but he just didn't feel in the mood this evening. "Ah, there you are. Where the fuck have you be- ah! Nevermind. Help me get her to our room." Johnny, a big man, was descending the stairs, looking apologetic. But he knew not to bother Joke with an explanation or excuse for his delay (which is why he had been hired so long).
Harley had passed out again, and J didn't want to jostle her too much. He gently passed her to Johnny. "Jesus boss, you act like she's made of ice." He chuckled. It wasn't every day you saw Mr. J be gentle, even if you were his right hand man. "That she is." He forced a smile, then added softly... "My ice princess." He followed Johnny up the stairs and found the doctor they had hired, waiting nervously in the master bedroom.
This was a hazy one. There was a shadow near her. A safe one. She reached for it. A plush toy was pushed into her hand. "Here ya go darlin'. Remember me." Said the shadow. She recognized the voice. Her father. "Stay". Her baby voice. "Dad has to go. He loves you." She clutched the plush toy. A kitten? The shadow exited through a dimly lit doorway, the rectangular door sealing her into the darkness as it closed.
"Uhm… W-what seems to be the problem Mister Joker?" His voice a tad squeaky. He loosened his jacket collar.
"It's Harley. She can't remember a damned thing." Huffed Joker, taking a seat in the green armchair near the bed where Johnny set Harley.
"Hmm.." The doctor removed his jacket, and itched his chin like he was thinking rather hard. He stepped closer to the bed, examining her.
"She appears to be sopping wet…" He observed out loud. Johnny snorted in the doorway. The Joker smirked at the innuendo and added. "Yes Doc, she often is if I have anything to do with it."
The doctor rolled his eyes, not amused. "Might I ask what you were doing before or when she lost her memory?" He asked, and looked over at The Joker, who was still smirking. "We were jumping from a bridge, Bill… A sort of… tradition, you might say." He ran his hands through his drying hair, already bored. Doctor Bill swallowed, he knew he had to try not to sound too judgmental and only ask what was necessary so as not to upset Mr. J.
"Might miss Quinn have injured her head on impact?" He inquired, strictly business. It still earned him a glare from the Jokers side of the room.
"No. She was in my arms when we went under." He worked on keeping his smile on his face.
"Did she lose consciousness under water?"
"Yes. I found her floating…" He cleared his throat. The image of her, face-down in the dark water flashed behind his eyes. Your fault..
"Did you perform CPR?" Her lips on yours..
"Yes."
"Did she respond." Who are you?
"Yes! She's breathing here and now isn't she?!" He stood up in a haze of wet purple and slicked his hair back repeatedly. His temper surpassed his will to speak calmly, and his breathing heightened.
"There's no need to raise your voice, Mr. J. My apologies if I offended you, I just need all the information I can get." He gulped.
"Well get on with it." He barked, busying himself with changing out of his wet suit.
"How long was she out for?" The doctor checked her pulse.
"Five… ten minutes maybe.." J muttered.
J, with fresh pants on, turned back around to see Doc removing Harleys clothes. Rage.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, QUACK?" He stormed to the bed, and shoved the quivering man aside.
"I was just trying to- I-I think we should get her into something dryer… She has a high f-fever." He stammered, visibly shaken.
"Let me do that part. I don't like people touching my stuff." Growled Joker, artfully sliding her pretty red dress off of her slender white frame. My masterpiece. He really did take credit for making her into the wild thing she was now. He traced his fingers over the little heart she had tattooed on her cheek, gently. Come back.
Cold hands… They were all over her. Soothing, and terrifying. She felt a sensation all over her body, someone was above her. Inside her? The hands gripped her waist tight. Too tight. Just right. There was whispering in her ears. Not unpleasant voices that plagued her nightmares and her retched daydreams… This voice was real. It demanded it be heard. Just like the cold hands demanded to be felt. "Goodbye..." Her head felt thick and foggy. She felt the presence pull from her. She tried to speak to him. "NO DON'T LEAVE ME!" But her mouth only moved, nothing left her lips. And she was alone.
Doc cleared his throat, handing J a shirt and panties to put her in. He grabbed them, stormily and put them on her as carefully as he could. He was worried she would wake up at any minute and scream or cry, not knowing where she was. When he was finished he backed away and stood up, by the bed, still watching her sleeping face. "Well Doc, what's your diagnosis?" Impatience laced his tone of voice.
"Uhm well…" He moved over Harley again, glancing at J as if for permission. Joker nodded stiffly. "There seems to be no head trauma or anything of that sort…" He peeled back one of her eyelides, checking her pupil. "This could possibly be drug induced… I've seen it before." J wracked his brain. They hadn't taken anything before their outing… had she?
"Impossible." Muttered Joker, shaking his head. "She wasn't under the influence."
"Maybe not. But I've seen patients recently with the same kind of memory loss. All have been in the river water. Deep in the water." The Doc assured him.
"Something in the water, eh?" Mr. J chuckled at his own reference. Doc smiled politely.
"Yes, sir. It's quite possible."
"So what's up, Doc?" He asked, annoyed. "What's the cure?"
"Oh, uhm… There isn't one that I know of sir." unacceptable.
"Fuck!" He turned and punched the wall. His temper was failing him. "Who then?"
"Excuse me, sir?" Doc asked, nervous again.
"IF YOU DON'T KNOW THE CURE THEN WHO DOES KNOW?!"
Harley stirred, her brows knit together in a frown.
He moved closer, almost… He stopped himself. She might not want to see him if she were to wake up…
"T-there is someone who knows who might know…" Said shaking Bill. "But you're not gonna like it."
"Just tell me who the fuck can help." He barked.
"The Batman."
