"It was Batman," said Harley, firmly.
The psychiatrist looked over the top of her glasses at the young woman covered in bandages lying on the sofa. "Batman?" she repeated. "You're accusing the hero of Gotham of attacking you and beating you to within an inch of your life?"
"You find that hard to believe?" snapped Harley. "He loves beating people up. Gets a real kick outta it. You should see him when he's pounding Mr. J – only time I've ever seen Bats smile. And like any fanatic, he'll do anything for his cause. He's so obsessed with his ideas about justice and heroism that he don't even notice he's hurting people anymore."
"Harley, I think you're confused," said the psychiatrist. "I think you are so blinded by your love for the Joker that when he does something to hurt you, you've actually replaced him with Batman in your mind. You just don't see the Joker hitting you, as he's literally become Batman."
"Whaddya think I am, crazy?!" snapped Harley. "It was Batman! I saw him and talked to him! And you think I can't tell the difference between his fist and Mr. J's fist?"
"As I said, I think you're confused," repeated the psychiatrist. "This is just one more instance of your obsession with the Joker harming your perceptions of reality and hampering your life…"
"It wasn't Mr. J!" interrupted Harley, furiously. "Ask Red! She saw Bats!"
"I'm not sure Miss Isley could be considered a reliable witness…" began the psychiatrist.
"Well, she sure as hell wouldn't defend Mr. J if he was the guy who beat me up!" retorted Harley. "She hates Mr. J! She ain't got no reason to lie about this, or to pretend she saw Batman because she's blinded by love or any of that crap! You ask Red! I won't be called a liar, and I won't be called crazy, when I ain't either!"
The psychiatrist stood up. "We'll resume this conversation in a couple days when you're feeling a bit better," she said, soothingly. "Why don't you just go have a nice, long rest in your cell now?"
Harley struggled to her feet. "Thought it was free time. I'm going to go to the rec room and talk to some people who believe what I say!"
And she stormed from the office and down the hall, wincing slightly. The three inmates presently incarcerated, Ivy, Two-Face, and Jonathan Crane, all looked up as she entered. Ivy immediately rushed over to help her, while Crane stood up, pulling out a chair.
"How you feeling, baby?" asked Ivy, kissing her cheek.
"Peachy keen, Red," retorted Harley, sitting down gingerly. "Thanks, Johnny," she said, nodding at Crane and smiling.
"Was it really Batman, Harley?" asked Two-Face, gently.
"Don't you call me a liar too!" snapped Harley. "Yeah, it was Bats! He wanted to know where Mr. J was, and I wouldn't tell him, so he beat the crap outta me! None of you should be surprised by that!"
"It just seems so barbaric," murmured Crane, gazing at her. "To do that to a defenseless lady…"
"Hey, if I'd been expecting it, I could've taken him," retorted Harley. "But it just came outta nowhere, y'know? Anyway, you know he's barbaric. He's a monster, just like Mr. J always said."
"Bats always thinks he's so high and mighty," growled Two-Face, flipping his coin angrily. "So much better than the rest of us! But I would never have done that to you, Harley. Shoot you in the head, yeah, maybe, if you asked for it. But torture you like that? It's just wrong."
"As if you don't get enough pain from J," said Ivy, stroking her hair back soothingly.
"That's completely different!" snapped Harley. "That's consensual! There's a huge difference between a gal submitting to being beaten and a guy just thinking he can beat a gal to a bloody pulp without asking permission! Mr. J knows I'm ok with him doing that. I wasn't ok with Bats doing it. I just feel…violated. I mean, I know Mr. J always enjoys a good beating from the Bat, but I don't want anyone hitting me but Mr. J. It just don't feel right."
She shook her head and sighed. "I'm sick of talking about it. What's on TV, Red?"
Ivy flicked on the news, where Jack Ryder was reporting live from a pile of smoking rubble. "…costing the lives of nearly 800 people. From the smiling faces of the victims whose bodies have been recovered, and from the mocking laughter played on a tape recorder just outside the site, it seems obvious that the Joker was behind this act of terrorism. We just wonder where Batman was, and why he failed to stop him. I'm Jack Ryer, reporting live…"
"Good," interrupted Harley. "Serves Bats right for trying to beat the info outta me. 800 people dead - I hope they all come back to haunt him."
"Bet he feels like crap this morning," muttered Two-Face. "Failed to save hundreds of people and beat up a woman. I hope he's in a lotta pain."
"I hope so too, although it can't be worse than the pain I'm in," snapped Harley. "The dumb jerk. What the hell kinda game does he think he's playing? He's meant to be the hero, ain't he?"
"I believe he thinks that as long as he doesn't kill anyone, he remains a hero," replied Crane. "His deepest fear is becoming what he fights against, after all."
"Well, he's become a lot like J if he's taken to beating up Harley," snapped Ivy. "They're the same type of monsters in my head."
"Hey, don't say crap like that!" snapped Harley. "The shrink will think you can't tell the difference, just like she thinks I can't! It was Bats that beat me up, you got that, Red? Bats!"
"Sure, Harley, I never denied that…" said Ivy, surprised.
"Then you keep not denying that," retorted Harley, standing up with difficulty. "I'm getting a nap. That is if I'm not in too much pain to sleep. The lousy, stupid, dumb, stinking bastard," she muttered, hobbling to her cell. "When Mr. J busts me outta here, we're going to have a long talk about him seeing Bats again. It would serve the jerk right if Mr. J didn't wanna see him no more. I know I don't."
She shut the door to her cell and faced the mirror. "I look like crap!" she shouted, ripping off the bandages and wincing. She rolled down her sleeves to cover most of the bruises, but her black eye was still really obvious, and Harley went over to the sink to rinse it.
She was startled by a sudden explosion as her wall caved in. "Harley, Daddy's home!" chuckled a voice she recognized.
"Mr. J!" she breathed, rushing into his waiting arms.
"How ya doing, kid…where'd you get the shiner?" asked Joker, his smiling face clouding in confusion.
"Long story," retorted Harley. "And I don't feel like telling it right now. I'm just so happy to see you, puddin'!" she breathed, kissing him. "Did you miss me?"
"Wouldn't have busted you out if I didn't," chuckled Joker, lifting her off her feet and carrying her away from the asylum as the alarm echoed behind them.
"Heard about your bomb on the TV, baby, great job," cooed Harley, ruffling his hair.
"Yeah, it was a real blast, Harl," he chuckled. "And Bats didn't even show, if you can believe it. All that hard work and effort and he didn't even turn up. I was surprised. Don't get me wrong, it was nice to have a little uninterrupted mayhem, but just kinda unusual, y'know?"
"Yeah," agreed Harley, frowning at the mention of Batman.
"Something wrong, pooh?" he asked.
Harley pointed at the armed guards rushing toward them. "I'll tell you in a minute, puddin'."
Joker sighed, putting her down, then turned and sprayed Joker toxin from his buttonhole. Then he turned around and picked up Harley again. She leaned her head against his chest as the sound of the guards' dying laughter grew fainter and fainter, safe and sound at last. No one but him could hurt her anymore.
