Please, please R&R! I'd love for you guys to let me know what could be done better or what I'm doing right or whatever.


Chapter 2: There's Something Very Damaged About You

Session #2 (Joker)

The Joker never really had the time for anyone but himself, and of course his beloved foe, Batman. Ever since he was a small child, he could distinctly remember breaking his toys just for the sole purpose of ensuring no one else would want to play with them; he chuckled as he recalled his hatred for sharing his things. It was during that spiteful period of his childhood when he showed a worryingly strong affection for dolls that little girlies tended to play with, or rather a strong affection for tearing their limbs apart and perform cruel, malicious acts of violence on them. At the age of only five, it seemed appropriate for any adult to show concern for a child who took delight in ripping apart the limbs of both male and female Barbie Dolls. Flash forward thirty years, and nothing had really changed for the clown, except that his toys had upgraded several sizes, and came with new, exclusive features such as "talking", and sometimes "fighting back". He loved it when they fought back; it made him feel all the more powerful when he defeated them, demonstrating and force-feeding them on a blood-splattered platter that he was always destined to come out on top. Dominance was exactly The Joker's forte. As he stared at the stony wall, contemplating this, and watched as the moonlight danced across the uneven and harsh stones, his constantly spinning mind drifted to his precedent thought of the past few days; his new doctor. Like a spider spinning down the plughole, his thoughts took many directions but ultimately led back to one main point. For their first meeting, he had feigned a vast range of emotions, allowing them to only get skin-deep before allowing the acid he felt in his veins to destroy them, but to his annoyance he didn't have to feign impression when she perceptively made the link between his name and how he viewed the world. Although he didn't tend to like people much, he was fairly satisfied with his doctor. My doctor, he thought with a grin. My deceitful, inexperienced, pretty doctor. Doctor sounds a lot like doll, now doesn't it? He sat up from his uncomfortable bed, using his keen awareness for time to remind him that his guards would arrive at any given moment for another session with his doctor. Provided she hasn't scarpered, his mind whispered, making him chuckle darkly. Before he could sink down again into a fresh line of thought, the sharp clang pierced his ears as his cell's door opened, screeching in protest. In walked the two guards, frowns set on their faces, eyebrows so furrowed that both of their eyes were partially concealed from him. As Tom stood by the door and watched intently, Derek carried on forward to take the patient out. He began to stand up as he thought to ask of his doctor.

"Say, my cheery amigo, is my darling doc in today?" The Joker sang, and sat back a little when the guard grunted an unenthusiastic confirmation. Even he could admit that he was surprised that Harley would lie about feeling ill and call in sick the day after to embellish her lie. It made no sense to him; no one ever lied for his sake; why would they? What could she possibly have to gain from lying in his favour? Either she was desperate to stick with him and gain some profit from his presence, or she genuinely was sick. He struggled to believe either. As a renowned king of liar, he could tell a lie when he saw one, and his precious doctor was no exception to that rule.

The next question he needed to ask was what he should do with said doctor. She was so easy to unbalance in the first place; simply suggesting she used sex to manipulate her grade outcomes was enough to make her end the session early, if that was the trigger, the bullet set loose from his mouth. She was one of the rare little birds that would spend their whole life teetering on the incredibly thin line separating sanity from insanity. All it took was the right push, and she'd plunder into the murky depths of insanity and meet him there. He relished the thought of watching such an exquisite, perceptive mind twist until it was tainted with his own paint, his own blood. He licked his lips in anticipation, knowing that the girl had already proved she'd be loyal under the right circumstances, and that she was his only ticket out of Arkham, without using brute force. He fancied a change, deciding that she was another toy to break so no one else could have her.

"I'm the Joker," he growled, clenching his fists. Even my title tells the world that I'm an entertainer. I should make good of my name, and show Harley just how funny the world is- she got a taste last time

"Oh, this is going to be fun." He vowed. The guard chided him, telling him to shut up, but a thousand gruff silencing commands couldn't cease the grin that The Joker currently wore across his teeth, bared like a predator that finally understood his prey. As they exited his cell and began the walk to Harleen's office, he decided to spark what little brains the two guards had, give them fuel for thought when they thought they were alone.

"You boys should ask for more for the work you do. With such a small salary, I wouldn't be surprised if one day, boom! You snapped in two. Like little twigs!" The Joker howled, giggles breaking through every few words he pronounced with extra enthusiasm; pack as many punches as you can, he instructed himself. Derek, the guard who was always most irked by The Joker, growled and pushed the patient faster by his shoulder blade, almost pushing him over totally.

"Shut it, clown, before I give you more scars to talk about."

"Yeah, sickos like you need to knuckle down and shut up. I ain't gonna to listen to a sack of shit boss me around. Our salary has nothing to do with you." Tom enforced, cracking his knuckles as The Joker felt the gun press harder into his side, making him laugh more. The cool metal did nothing but tickle.

"Really, you boys kiss your mothers with that mouth? Well, I'll have to let your darling mommies know when I see them next. Maybe they'll punish you, if you know what I mean! Ha!" He whooped. Derek stopped and grabbed The Joker by the throat, clenching as tight as he could to ensure and demand attention. The Joker pretended to choke, causing Derek to release him quickly and step back, not wanting to be caught murdering Arkham's most valuable prisoner.

"No, don't let go yet- I like it rough. As does your mother, I discovered!" The Joker laughed. Derek moved forward but Tom restrained him, a meaty arm slamming in front of his chest to stop him.

"Don't, man. He's trying to piss you off. It'll piss him off more if you ignore it. The sooner that blonde goody-two-shoes can straighten him out, the better. Until then, hold it in." Tom warned him, and Derek exhaled sharply before resuming their sharp stalk to Quinzel's office.

When they arrived, his grin widened when he saw her already sat in position, as close as she knew she could get before the guards would pull the barriers up to prevent either from closer contact, seeing The Joker as a threat. Me, a danger? Preposterous, he denied with a small giggle. He coughed to cover his amusement as he was unceremoniously thrown into the seat, sensing his shackles were snapped into place with more force than usual.

"Oh, I am sorry Derek. I didn't know you were a mommy's boy. I'll remember that for next time." He cackled. Derek sighed heavily as he nodded to Harley and slammed the door behind him, saying nothing. The doctor clucked in disapproval and shifted slightly, and it was painfully obvious that she was still affected from when The Joker had remarked so crudely about her.

"My dear, before going any further with our little chat, I'd like to apologise for what I said and how I acted last time. You see, I don't know if you were told or not, but on the very day of our session, they switched my medication. I have it on my records that I tend to swing for, shall we say, violent outbursts and erratic behaviour when they change my meds. It's horrible for both me and anyone near me at the time." He said, barely able to contain the glee as she watched her previously sharp-set face melt into submission and even a hint of pity, the sparkle in her eyes glowing with radiance as she utterly fell for his excuse. How conveniently timed my medication switching was, he reflected. I mean, yes, they did change my meds on that day, but I was well aware of my behaviour. And she fell right for it! How trite.

"No need to apologise, Mr Joker. I understand. I'm sorry for calling our appointment so short; you have to understand that I was unsettled and ill. It won't happen again, I promise." She purred, subconsciously chewing down on her lip. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if that mannerism was deliberately provocative, or if it was just an innocent habit for a not so innocent girl; the typical traumatic event or tragic backstory blocking off a certain chunk of her memory to allow for a different, more innocent persona to take shape despite her true nature. All it needs is the right push, he repeated in his mind from his earlier reflection of his doctor.

"So, what's on the agenda for today, doc?" He trilled, and she smiled tightly as she clicked her pen and began to press to paper, jotting notes already. The quick flicks of her wrists showed she tended to be quite a manic, hyper person; not the type for precision and perfection. He smiled wryly at that, reminded a little of himself back before he completely snapped.

"I thought we'd try some word association, if that's alright with you." Oh, joy, The Joker internally grumbled, but kept the grin wide as he shrugged.

"Your word is law." He said simply.

"Insanity." She began, her eyes concentrated on him but her pen still at the paper, ready to resume scrawling at any minute. How attentive you are, The Joker purred.

"Fun!" He countered with a throaty laugh.

"Recklessness."

"Youth." He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at how tedious the game was becoming already, predicting his doctor's response would be about immortality.

"Eternity." Close enough, he reasoned.

"Death!" He cheered.

"Pain."

"Murder!"

"Abuse."

"…Father." He said, making sure to sound quieter to really attract her attention. She sat up, her eyes wide. Geez, you'd think she'd at least try to hide it, he noticed cynically.

"Tell me about your father." She invited, and he took a deep breath and cleared his throat as if there was a large audience hanging off his every syllable.

"Well, when I was a young child, I was actually brought up by my uncle and aunt. It was believed that my father actually died in a fire after my mother died giving birth to me, or something, They were lovely, lovely people; very kind, but made sure that I worked hard to achieve what I wanted. They didn't mollycoddle me, and for that I am glad. However, I left the house more and more after I started an apprenticeship with some old codger, Ben? I think his name was Ben. Anywho, one day I strayed too far and for too long whilst receiving some particular training, and when I returned, I found my uncle and aunt had been burnt to death by terrorist forces. I… I took training more seriously, in the hopes that I could avenge my aunt and uncle. On the way, I met a woman and fell in love with her, but then I discovered she was actually my sister who had been raised by a different family. Together, we discovered our heritage and that led us to actually find our father! In some cruel twist of fate, it turned out that our father was the boss of the terrorist forces, and he told me after he tried to cut my arm off-"

"-Joker, I'm not stupid! That's from Star Wars!" The doctor cried, amusement lightly dancing in her bright blue eyes. He exploded into a roaring laugh, no longer able to drown in the restraint of his amusement, reverberating off of the walls and bouncing back to himself and showering over his doctor. She joined in with laughing, and he could tell that just for a moment, she lost herself and seemed a completely different, more natural woman. Her laugh wasn't too bad after; the years of what must have been restraint seemed to have an effect, causing her to sound so much more maniacal and almost wild. However, when she managed to open her eyes and realised he was watching her, she sat up straighter, sighed and blinked slowly to collect herself. She adjusted the glasses on the perch of her nose, and began jotting down notes.

The fool can't even laugh properly without worrying, the voice in his head sneered. Guess I'll have to teach the broad how to laugh again, too. It's obvious she used to be able to laugh, I saw it just then- but she clearly feels that she has to restrain herself. Poor girl, imagine not being able to laugh properly just to treat a bunch of loons! I'll have to straighten that out, too. A moment of golden inspiration struck him like a lightning bolt, and he almost jolted from the impact, a crashing weight on his mind and stopping his heart for a fraction of a second. Why didn't I see that sooner?! This is all about her professionalism. Laughing is seen as a lack of said professionalism, and a lack of that would make her feel inadequate. It would make her world collapse. Oh, that is brilliant.

Somewhere, buried deep in the perverse corner of his brain where even he sometimes didn't wander to purposely, the thought of his meticulous, well-kept doctor curled up at his feet on the stony ground, clothes ripped in tatters, hair bedraggled with a potion of blood and sweat, her pale, precious skin adorned with scars, her mouth marred with deep gashes on either side to make her lips look like his own awoke a part of him he rarely cared to remember. He supressed a low growl as he shifted slightly, biting down on his own lips, feeling suddenly just slightly hot under the collar, tension building and making him restless, silently hoping he could hold himself in so she wouldn't see the effects he was undergoing. Because he knew that she would definitely see them.

In that moment, that simple second, The Joker made a decision. For almost the first time, The Joker made a definite decision and intended to stick by it. I'll corrupt that brute's mind and twist it, make her solely under my control. I'd thrill her, open her eyes, change her, bend her so far back that she'll snap in two, just like a Barbie Doll. No one else will want her then, and she'll be solely mine. She will be my own Frankenstein's monster, my experiment. I will drag down the prissy perfect Harleen Quinzel to my level, and bring out the feral Harley Quinn that I know exists in there somewhere. My Harley Quinn.

"Is… everything okay, Mr Joker?" His doctor asked, snapping The Joker from his menacing reverie and making him feel as if he'd been slapped round the face. His grin widened as he turned from her to look above him at the creaking ceiling fan, schemes and plans floating around his brain and muttering sinister intents, dripping mercury into his ears.

"Why, my dear, everything just got a whole lot better."


A/N: I'm sorry, but I absolutely couldn't resist waiting until Friday to publish the next installment. I really wanted to get the Star Wars reference out there, too; a fitting little cameo for the darling Mark Hamill!