A/N: I know this chapter is a little short but I promise the plot is moving along steadily. Enjoy!
Harley was furious. That guy had no right to touch J. She would take up for her new friend. She allowed herself to be moved towards her cell. Once in front of her door she stopped, planting herself firmly in place.
"Quinn, inside now." one orderly barked at her. She looked at her nails, ignoring him. She needed the big guy to come get her.
The small man in front of her tried to grab her arm. She snaked it free with no issues. "Do not touch me." She said. She locked eyes with the man in front of her.
"Move it Quinn, or Mike will move you." The small man warned.
She laughed "He can try." She challenged. That did it, the taller man was headed for her. He stepped up to her and grabbed for her arm. She spun around trying to pull herself free. He twisted her arm around behind her back. She felt the surge of pain and flung her head back and up. She heard the satisfying crunch as her head made contact with his nose.
He released her with a cry of pain. She laughed. The man had blood pouring from his nose, as it laid on his face at an odd angle. She felt a sharp stick in her neck and then she was flying, no she was falling. Surprised by how similar they feel.
She woke up in a damn padded room, her head aching where it had impacted on Mike's poor face. She reached to the back of her head. There was a small bump, and her hair was full of dried blood. Hopefully all his.
She giggled to herself, it was all worth it. No one messed with her friends. She looked around, the room was so white. There was the dry reddish brown spot where she was laying. She looked around, this room could use some color. She walked to the door, there was no hard surface. Well, she'd have to be creative. She punched, scratched, and kicked at the edge of the padding, hoping to wear away a bit to get to the wall or floor. Either would do.
She had an idea, she looked along that edge and found a slightly worn spot in the padded fabric. She spit on it, hoping to get it to soften just a touch. She leaned forward and began gnawing on the fabric. She nearly whooped out loud when she felt her tooth pop a single string.
After about 20 minutes of hard work, she had made a small hole. She pulled and twisted the fabric, making the hole big enough to pull the dust filled padding out of it.
20 more minutes and she had a hard flat surface. She looked at her hard work. She punched the flat spot on the wall, feeling the pain shoot through her hand. That ebbed quickly, she punched again. That's when she felt the blood. Hot on her hand. She had a pressure cut from the impact on the wall.
She punched it one more time to make sure the blood was flowing freely. She walked to the center of the room and flung the bleeding hand around. She was the conductor of her own fucked up opera. The blood splattered and absorbed into the fabric. She loved it. When the bleeding stopped, she punched the wall again.
Finally exhausted, she lay down on the floor. She looked around in awe. She was an artist. She giggled lightly. She couldn't wait to get back and tell J about her little adventure. She quickly fell asleep.
Harleen woke in the infirmary. She looked and shook her head. She sat up and her hand was bandaged. It felt achy along with a killer headache. A nurse walked in and gasped.
"What happened?" she asked the woman.
After composing herself, she looked at Harleen's chart. "You were found unconscious, and unresponsive." She told her.
Harleen looked around the room, "What time is it?" she asked the nurse.
The woman looked at her watch, "10:45 am."
Harleen stood, He knees almost gave out. The nurse helped catch her. "Thanks." She told the woman.
She stepped out of the room and looked around. She saw an orderly standing by the door. She walked over to him, "Excuse me could you help me? I need a pad of paper and something to write with. I have a patient to see." She explained.
"Sure, hold on." He told her looking slightly confused.
The man returned, handing her a legal pad of paper and a crayon. She looked at this, then at him. "Sorry, no sharp objects around the patients." He explained.
She was a bit confused, but shrugged it off. "Will you please take me to the activity room? I still feel a little shaky." She asked him.
He shared a look with the nurse, then nodded to Harleen.
He escorted her to the double doors and let her in. She thanked him. She turned and looked for Mr. J, and found him sitting at the table waiting patiently.
She walked over and sat across from him. "Sorry I am late." She told him. He didn't say anything. He just looked at her. "Where would you like to start today?" she asked.
He looked at her for a second, then smiled. "Let's get to know each other." He said.
She wasn't sure if that was a good idea or not. "Okay, Mr. J, do you want to start?" she asked.
"Oh no dear, Ladies first." He insisted.
She blushed, "Okay, let's see. Are your parents still in your life?" She hoped she wasn't overstepping.
"Oh no Doc, they've been dead for years." He said with no emotion.
She jotted down a few lines. She looked back at him, waiting for his question for her.
"Are you happy?" he finally asked.
This threw her, "Happy?" she looked at him, "Can you elaborate? That's a pretty broad question."
He smiled at her, her tummy flip-flopped at the sight. "Do you like being a doctor?" he asked.
She thought about that for a second. "I don't know." She answered honestly. The realization made her sad.
"What about you? Are you happy?" she asked, feeling a bit defensive.
He looked around, "what's not to be happy about?" he smiled again.
"You don't look happy, you seem troubled." She said, that wiped the smile away. She missed it as soon as it was gone.
"Honestly, doc, I am a bit worried for a friend of mine. I didn't get to see her yesterday. I guess I am troubled." He told her.
She latched onto one word in that sentence, "her". She had a quick pang of jealousy. She pushed the thought away.
"Is this a girlfriend?" she heard herself ask before she realized what she was doing.
He looked at her differently now. "Oh doc, are you jealous?" he shook his head.
"No Mr. J, just curious." She told him, man her head was starting to hurt again. She rubbed her temples.
"All I know is she's a friend," he said, "for now."
Harleen heard a giggle in her head. The headache was quickly getting worse.
"Mr. J, you'll have to excuse me, I have a horrible headache." She got up still gripping her note pad and headed to the door.
"See you soon." He called to her.
She walked to the orderly at the door, "Could you please take me to lay down? I'm not feeling well."
He looked at her and opened the door. She was walking, a sharp sizzle of pain and she almost passed out. The orderly grabbed her, standing her back up.
"Do you need medical attention?" he asked. She looked at him, he was blurry, her vision started to swim.
"No just get me to a bed, I just need to lay down." She told him.
He took her to a patient room, and laid her down. She dropped her notepad and rolled to her side. The pain was excruciating. She knew her skull was going to split. Then it stopped.
A giggle erupted from her throat. Harleen fell asleep again.
Harley woke up to dinner being served. Where the hell was she? She had fallen asleep in the padded room, she looked at her hand. She had pulled off bandages in her sleep, they were strewn across the bed. Scabs covered wounds across her knuckles.
"Damn!" she said aloud. She just knew Harleen had been here again. When she sat up and put her feel over the edge, she saw the notepad. She looked at the gibberish written across it.
Just scribbles, then she saw something that made her blood boil. She looked closer, there in the corner of the page was a heart. Inside the heart was three letters. MR J. She would kill Harleen before she let her have him. Joker was hers, and hers alone.
Harley got out of bed and collected her tray. She ate the bland food. Drank her carton of milk. She put the tray back and began plotting Harleen's demise.