~You don't remember me but I remember you. I lie awake and try so hard not to think of you. But who can decide what they dream? And dream I do... I believe in you, I'll give up everything just to find you; I have to be with you to live, to breathe. You're taking over me... I look in the mirror and see your face. If I look deep enough. So many things inside that are just like you are taking over~ Evanescence, "Taking Over Me".
"Holee' dark alley-holey! Whut tha' heck did those punks put in mah' drinks?! Where am I? And why's it so dark?" I was walking down some pitch black path barefoot with nothing on me but a white robe, then a thought hit me "Wait! Isn't this tha' movie with that clown doll that rolls around in a tricycle?! Well, hear me loud and clear, little bastard! I'm tha' only scary, sociopath clown here so the only game I'm gunna play with'cha is…!" suddenly a brilliant ray of light shone on my face, silencing my threats, and I had to cover my feeble eyes before the glare that rose in front of me got me blind. "My god, forget it! I prefer darkness that this frigging' light! It's blinding me! C'mon people I haven't worn the glasses in years and here you are fucking up my vision again!"
"Don't leave him…" a black silhouette took shape in the middle of the brightness. It was on its back, but my eyes finally turned the color spots into the figure of a woman with dark, short blond hair and clothes in various bright purple tones.
"Who…? Harleen, is that you?! Whut on bloody hell did ya' do to our hair?! Ya' know how many times we had ta' dye it to make it look as if we were real blondes!" I grumbled at the one I thought was the worst of all the voices sheltered inside my troubled mind, but I knew I was wrong when the mirage spoke to me again.
"He needs you, Harley. You must stick to him, no matter what happens…" I couldn't understand a thing she was saying, though I tried to tie the knots here and there to get a clue.
"Uh, sure, I can try! But I guess I first have to know what's exactly going on to do what I must…?"
"Don't forget who he is; don't forget who you are… You're together for a reason. Don't leave him. Don't give up on him…"
"Puddin'!" Harley woke up with an exclamation, a sharp pain on the head as if she had been knocked out by the gracious hands of God himself and numbness on the inner part of her left arm, how weird… she only had that last kind of pain when she was in… "Fuck… Arkham!" she recognized the dark, cold cell and saw she had been sleeping against the stone wall which had various photos of her and Joker pasted above her head; so it'd be the first thing she saw when she woke up and the last when she "went to sleep". She blinked a couple of times trying to focus her vision but the headache was too strong to have been caused by a simple hangover "Woah, wild Fridays do really mess up a little lady like mah' self!" as she blamed it on the alcohol she chuckled maniacally and stretched herself to get more comfortable, utterly fruitless as always since her patient clothes was always so tight and rough that left red sore marks on her delicate skin. As if the chemical dip had not fucked her up enough!
She remembered she keep some things under the old sink to make her feel more like home, so she got up from the small, dusty, sound making bed and walked over there. Finding her grease paint, some nail polish, face and body lotion, a small portion of special "sweets" kindly given to her by Joker for when she got too bored of being alone or when her tiny selves started to tire her, and then she finally had her hands on her hand mirror and moisturizing cream for her puffy cheeks. "Let's see how many bruises they left this time…" was one of the things she most enjoyed about her trips to the asylum, confirming each time how the doctors and personal of the place were as insane and unstable as the internees themselves.
However, when she stared at her reflection, she found something much worse "Sure, they've got enough time to beat da shit outta' me but not to remove the wig…" If you want something well done do it yourself, her hands traveled the way up to her scalp and pulled at the messy locks that suddenly felt too real… and too attached to her head! And she continued to pull and pull until she had some strands tangling around her fingers, a chilling sensation made her way from her chest to the rest of her body, pouring itself inside her like blood. She kept staring at her only worried glassy self when she noticed her eyes were still Mrs. Nobody dark blue ones, only much darker than the contacts she previously had put on, and they didn't seem to have a way to be removed… now, she was terrified. "The fuck…?" she opened up her eye to stare at the movements of the unknown iris, then she saw the new color of her skin; darker, as it had once been before becoming the infamous Harley Quinn, though it still wasn't any tone she could've acknowledge as hers. In matter of shape she was still herself, it was her body! But that face, that skin… those belonged to somebody else. So she started to scream with all of her, that usually helped her awake from nightmares; and yet her agony rumbled as awoken whimpers, she wasn't asleep… she wasn't asleep but she wasn't her! What was going on?
"… quickly! Before she does something we'll all… Ah, Harley, you're up." Joan entered the cell after yelling at the guards, looking as calm as always, had she imagined what she had seen a second ago? She looked down at the arms she held around her shaky silhouette, nope, it was still not her skin.
"Joanie… what happened to me?" her voice came out only a little louder than a whisper, Dr. Leeland saw the remains of the cracked mirror on the floor and sighed in return, running a hand through her hair.
"I told Dr. Arkham we didn't have to leave you alone, but you know as well as I do that he never listens. Come with me, I'll explain everything to you…" she batted her hand so she approached and walked with her trough the hall. Her former colleague gently put an arm around her shoulders "You must've been terrified when you saw yourself, and It'll undoubtedly be a problem for you from now on… but it's for a good cause, Harley, that's the only thing to keep in mind…" the introduction bored her and she started to look at the cells showing on the halls, Eddie was there, also Jervis and Harvey, she wondered what they had done this time; she didn't find Doc Crane or Red though, and what frightened her more was the fact she was being taken to her Puddin's cell, that was pretty far of hers, Jeremiah's decision to keep them from having their night love escapades that ended up waking everyone up because of the scandal her groans and laughter made. The glass had been covered with a large black curtain, shit no… her eyes began to water.
"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HIM?! WHAT'S GOING ON?!" she screamed with the last breath she had inside. The guard that had been following them from behind came to hold her harshly in the blink of an eye, before her hands had tangled around Joan's neck.
"You need the straitjacket, ma'am?" he said as Harley trembled, Joan shook her head and he let go of him.
"Joker's fine, better than ever actually… the curtain's only there for matters of privacy, Dr. Crane said his work is nobody business but his" she detested when they started talking their secretive, smarty-pants doctor crap! And what was with the respect towards Johnny Crane? He wasn't that much of an idolized psychiatrist anymore and what work could he possibly be doing with her Puddin'?!
"She's awake, Jonathan." She was led inside the medical stuff crowded cell. The walls that had showed her pictures were now empty, and there were two desks placed at each opposite corner; Dr. Crane sat in one of them reading some documents from a light green folder, it was so weird seeing him without the costume and with his glasses, if she hadn't been so statue like she would've laughed at him until she snorted like a pig; on the other there was a computer with passing images of girls with features similar to the ones she had now. She didn't stare at him long as the discrete sound of a vital signs monitor caught her attention. The Joker, completely makeup less and still looking like Mr. Nobody laid there unconscious, with thousands of other machines around him. She didn't think twice before making her way to meet him, going down on her knees and caressing his cheek gently.
"Oh, baby…" she sobbed "I thought I had lost you… what are they doing to you?" she said in low voice for them not to hear her, but attempting to wake him up; he didn't, he barely frowned in distress at the sound of her voice, her tears staining the sheets placed above his body. "It's ok, I'll take us out of here… don't worry" she continued her stroking and kissed his forehead.
"Hands off the patient, Harley, he isn't stable yet…" the doctor in charge almost ordered, she turned to him with a confused expression.
"Is he sick, Johnny? Was it because of the explosion in the Lounge?" she tried to hold back the tears but being so absolutely clueless wasn't helping.
"The explosion? Of course not, that was nearly three days ago… J's alright, Harley. In fact, I've got good news for you, it seems he's recovering his sanity" he spin the cheer to face her also with a satisfied smile.
"How tha' hell do you know that? And why's he being abducted here? What's all this shit?" she didn't move from his side.
"Let me try to explain this as smooth and comprehensible as I can make it. It could cause you a shock hard to come out of…" he continued to show that stupid grin on his face as he pushed his glasses closer to his eyes, which made her heart sank inside more and more each time. "You do recall having played Mr. and Mrs. Napier that night at the Iceberg Lounge, don't you?" she nodded once, why couldn't they just get to the point before she lost the last bit of common sense she had left?!
"Well, dear. That happened three days ago as I was telling you, Batman caught you in your escape and brought you both here but then you passed out because of your excessive consumption of alcohol and that drove Joker even madder than he already was, he began beating the guards until he was administered two shots of tranquilizers, that as always don't have an immediate effect. Then, something odd happen, he began calling other woman's name as he stared to you and almost begging the personal not to take you away, saying that this Jeannie he spoke about was alive and that he didn't want to be parted from her again." Well, shit, if she hadn't been able to stop crying before neither would she do now! Why would he call her Jeannie at the verge of falling into unconsciousness? He knew she was dead, he knew both Jack and Jeannie were dead.
"I know, I made the exact same face you have right now. Turns out that your hyenas led the GCPD to your hideout in the old theatre, Gordon found your little character references there… and you won't believe this, Harl, really; The information the Joker had about Jack Napier and his wife, these papers here were the missing puzzle piece for a case the police had had in waiting for years…" he waved the folder on his hand, of course, she had to know it was nothing from the asylum, that was one of Puddin's folders "So here we are now, and allow me to introduce to you to Mr. Jack Napier, former worker of the Ace Chemical Processing Plant, and close hitman to Salvatore Valestra… now also known as the Joker"
"Woah, woah, Hold yer' goddamn horses! You're saying that Puddin truly is… Mr. Nobody?" correction now, Mr. Nobody was Mr. Everything after all…
"If by that you mean Mr. Napier, exactly. Everything's here, Harley!" he spun to the computer on the other corned, forcing her to walk and see over his shoulder to all of the archives that pointed into only one direction: the Joker was Jack Napier without a doubt "I wonder how they didn't find out earlier. Such a coincidence, one more time the famous an still unknown Red Hood strikes, cheap trickery used by not only Valestra's but many other bosses' gangs, a terrible accident happens to two people identified as Mr. and Mrs. Napier, only her body was taken to the station, his? Was never found, the last place he was seen was in a bar near to his home, same place were the Valestra gang used to hold reunions. Then the department gets news of this whole Red Hood thing, they hear the gangsters call him "Jack", Batman appears he falls into the chemicals and nothing more is ever heard of him…" he went by the newspapers and pictures and evidence so fast that she felt as if her head was a freaking disco ball. As he told the story so eagerly her pumping brain also started to connect one point with the other, the happenings that described series of unfortunate events that lead into a miserable life like a fucking Hollywood film. And all they could see was the adding of missing, tiny but important facts to a sick equation that would bring all of those suckers: Batman, Gordon, Arkham, the glory they could've just dreamed of, they had the Joker's whole existence on their hands.
"Then! The night after this incident is when the criminal that referred to himself as the Joker attacks for the first time… Now, can we really call this a coincidence? Poor man went through some heavy things, you know? A failed comedian, he got involved with the mafia to get him and his wife a chance at life, and all of the wrong shit happened because of all of the right reasons. Do I feel sorry for him… " Harley fell to the ground definitely out of strength or sense of reality and thanked heavens foe the moment Johnny quit the chit chat allowing her to pointlessly search for something to grab a hold onto, this was too much to be processed in such a short time. So many memories went by her head, things he had said or done, things he'd never say or do, things he had demanded from her and did to himself, so many things that resulted in only: One bad day. Her vision became blurred, suddenly she didn't give a damn about what she looked like, about what could Crane be doing playing doctor, about anything but the crushing feeling of getting too much information; the only thing that kept her feet on the ground was the progressively fainting beating of her heart, and one more detail she yet had to know.
"A-and her? What exactly happened to his… ?" fuck, fuck, fuck… she shouldn't have asked; the truth was hitting her like a damned professional WWA boxer. She couldn't say it out loud, but neither had she wanted to hear it…
"His wife? Ah, even sadder story, dear. She was six months pregnant, a boy, she had been trying a baby bottle heater and it started a fire inside their apartment, or so the only witnesses said, everything was burned to ashes. Actually, according to my studies of J's mind, it seems that was what hit him the most" he continued to go by the papers on the folder, until Harley's cries were audible enough for him to stop and stared at the shattered blonde who's tears formed a puddle on the ground. Jonathan sometimes took things for granted, like she would be happy to find out who his psychopath really was, they had shared that passion over criminal minds while being colleagues. But Harley was no Doctor Quinzel anymore, she was a silly little girl that had excessively loved someone she didn't know enough. Joker was never meant to be loved the way the harlequin had done, Johnny knew that as well as he knew himself.
"Oh, my God… My god, this can't be true… Puddin', my Puddin', how could this happen to him? My sweet baby… God, no!" she shouted previous to cover her aching face with her hands. Those were not only regular, normal tears, the ones that came out when you see a sad movie or when someone turns a perfect good day to crap; those were pieces of her soul that came out of her eyes, that insanely tried to run away from the hurting mess that was her core. So she mourned for him, mourned for all the years that had gone by, the ones she had been beside him, the ones she couldn't have imagined the kind of pain he had gone through. For the person he had become to continue living in a world that constantly swallowed and spat him out, for the scars she couldn't cover up, for the solution she would never give him because it was too late… too late to fix anything. Life couldn't have been so cruel with them… such a wonderful man, the image of perfection for her, had been destroyed in just one fucking night. And no one had done anything about him, no one had moved a single finger for him; if she had known him back then, if there had been something she could've done…
"God, I'm… very sorry about this, Harls. Come here, I didn't really think of how you'd take this in, forgive me" he helped her on her feet and brought her into a friendly embrace, the blonde's hands entwined around his shoulders and she buried her face on his neck, wetting his white robe all over.
"He didn't deserve this, Johnny… you probably can't understand this, but you don't know him like I do. He's been through enough pain already… and yet he smiled every freaking day, and tried to make everyone see the world through his eyes, he just wanted to heal it in his own way, and this' what he got in return…" it made no sense, Mr. J had been a normal human, citizen, husband and almost father like any other man in Gotham, struggling to keep going on each day, and the only thing he got in return was the hatred of some stupid rotten moral puppets that thought were so much better than him…. They didn't know a thing, not even while having all of the answers right in front of their eyes could they see anything but what was beneficial to them, she let out a painful growls at that thought; that was the why of what was going on.
"That's why we're trying to give him his life back, Harley. And we want you to help us, we need you to help us…" we, fucking we meant that Arkham had gotten his nasty fingers into the matter. She was smart enough to know that she had to expect the unexpected, yet now she was hopeless, the shock hard to come out of that Johnny had so nicely attempted to avoid was wrapped around herself like a blood thirsty cobra. She cleaned herself up as much as she could with the hem of her sleeve and looked up to him, catching a glimpse of the affection he held for her inside as they stared into each other faces.
"What can I do?" there was a large range of intentions to be chosen from that phrase. However she had only two in mind: how could he ever get over something like that? And what could she possibly do about it? Johnny instructed her to sit on the chair Joan had placed next to his and took her ice cold hands in his.
"I've been watching J from up close, pretty one, and even if I kept up with this for one or ten more years, I'll never get to comprehend all of the issues he's got completely; but for what I could get, the memory of his late wife is a big trouble for him, not the greatest or most influential, still an important one. Seeing you, somewhat similar to what Jeannie Napier used to look like, it worked for him as a visual stimulus. In first instance, when you two met, it explains why he decided to make a move on you and now that you actually intended to look like her, it was like a punch that made him recover part of his memories, even if it was for a minute. It's still a theory now, though Doctor Arkham and Doctor Leeland agree with me that it may help in J's rehabilitation if the presence of Jeannie was still with him..."
"Can you say that without decorating it with words like a damn Christmas tree? Ya' did just turn my head into a bowl a' mashed potatoes, my clever self's on vacation...a long one" she continued to wipe the mascara black tears from her cheeks.
"I mean that he will be able to heal faster and better if he has even one small piece of his past is there along the journey to keep his memories fresh and awake. Look here, the night the cops got into your hideout, the Commissioner called Jeremiah to ask for help and special care for J, the doctors became familiar with the case and they've been monitoring him since then, let me show you the first recording…" he searched for a certain archive on the computer, it was a video of the Joker recorded by the security cameras that now pointed at them, she could feel Arkham's eyes at her back through his robot ones, but she was too confused and pained to care "when the tranquilizers went off, he woke up calling for his wife's name, though when the nurses approach him he goes back to black…" true, in first instance he had been curled in a corner of the room whispering sense lacking things, then he saw the nurses entering and stared into the ground for a short while before trying to attack them and throw colorful insults at them to be freed from the restraining he had around his body.
"We noticed this unusual modification in his behavior, Dr. Arkham saw an opportunity we couldn't afford to waste there, if the exposure to items of his previous life was affecting the problems of his bipolar disorder and multiple personality in a positive way we had to continue with it. He also recalled Dr. Cranes previous studies in cases like this, proving it isn't entirely possible that certain kinds of amnesia can be cured with some external clout, we talked about the matter and now he's here as an important developer of this project. I had a few sessions with him in the period from dawn until the afternoon of the following day. Showed him all of the documentary the GCPD could get from them and especially hers, starting from letters, then legal papers, and ended with pictures. At first he did the same, kept quiet, moaned a while and then snapped back into insanity in raging episodes. That until he was under the influence of a visual image of her and their lives together; in one of the most recent sessions I held with him, he started asking questions about her, if she really was dead as he remembered having seen her recently. Of course, it wasn't entirely her, it was you dressed as her…" Joan had the courtesy of taking out her own collection of palpable evidence, Harley confirmed part of their thoughts, she had to agree that she saw some similarity between herself and her Puddin's …uh, wife. "Thanks to the information gotten by Joker himself and Jonathan's vast knowledge in toxins we were able to reverse the effects of the chemical waste on both of you successfully, it did wonders for his ill mind as well; of course and due to Dr. Arkham's instructions a few more changes had to be done to your own appearance in order for the image of Jeannie in you would be permanent and to make sure it would bring results for our hypothesis, because of this you have been sedated until today. On the last session we had, yesterday, he barely said a thing to me, seemed to be scared somehow; then I asked if he would like having a chance of seeing his wife again, so we took him to your cell and this is what happened…"
It seemed as Joan and Johnny had been synchronized, as soon as she finished talking, he already had the mouse in another tape, this one was indeed inside her cell, and she was asleep on her bed with two nurses on her side, checking her pulse, covering up some bruises, as if they were taking care of her. Mr. J saw from the outside for a while and then became terrified by an unknown environment to him, demanding answers from Dr. Leeland as for why had happened to his wife, where were they and why. But he focused more on Jeannie, her in the shape of Jeannie…
"So, that's the reason why you look like this. At first, we had to try it against your will, for the experimental phase of the treatment; I extend you Jeremiah's and my personal apologies for this. Now, the rushed meaning of all this is because the treatment must necessarily be continuous, if there's even one tiny interruption all of the progress will be lost instantly. The first part is done, we confirmed that he remembers who he is and his true self is kept while being around his wife. The proposal we have to make here, you have to try to take this in as swiftly and reasonable as you can…"
"We want you to take part in the experiment too, Harley, as you already did unintentionally. You know Joker better than anyone has ever gotten the chance to, perhaps even more than his late wife. You understand him, know about some of his fears, deep truths, desires; and you have the benefit of looking the same as Jeannie at his eyes." There he was again; holding her hands in his excitement sweaty hands, talking as if he was telling her she was being nominated for a Nobel Prize. "We want you to be our, his own version of Jeannie Nappier" oh, her mistake, no! They were offering her and Academy Award worth role…
"What? Ya' mean ya' wan' me to pretend to be his wife?" Her face reappeared from the shelter her palms had created. Johnny stared into her reddened dark blues tenderly and caressed her cheek intending to comfort her.
"Exactly, for now we're using memories as a sort of incentives, or medications. According to the Doctor's experimentation however, in the long run he won't require these memories as a hold of reality and we will be able to refresh his memory until we reach the last moments he lived as Jack Napier, if it doesn't affect him negatively, maybe even his times as Batman's nemesis. Anyhow, I'm afraid that we are not aware of how long this stage of the therapy will be to last, so for as long as this type of incentive is needed, you, it is essential, if not crucial that you take the place of his diseased partner" the female half of the just stablished dynamic duo ended.
"But... how can ya' be sure that he won' notice I'm not her? On the shell we might be the same, but there's a whole differen' chickin' on the inside…" The situation couldn't finish degrading itself. It started pretty awful and continued to get worse until Harley no longer had labels for all levels of "bad" that this invented medicine created along with its crude birth.
"Joan already said it, once his memory is correctly settled he'll find out what really happened on his own and you'll be free to go back to your normal life. It won't be too long, that I'm certain of; you don't have to worry about a thing, we'll have your backs, and this isn't meant to be carried out here, of course not. What's needed, we're willing and ready to get it for you two, a new home, ID's, jobs and medical attention every once in a while, anything…" so they were going to free them, to go make them lived as two completely different, strangers?
"And feel free to ask for any other thing, we're open to your suggestions, request, thoughts, you've always been a treasure of a psychologist and person, Harley. I have no doubt that with your help this will only end in benefits… for all of us" a' course', they weren't just doctors, they were fame and fortune sickened seekers and they didn't care about what, or who, they'd have to do in order to get it. Besides, they were forgetting a little detail, Harley… wasn't a piece of a normal civilian being asked to do something good for the safety of the city and getting some rewards for herself on the way, she was an ill patient with an assassin records that would take no more nonsense from those two drooling jerks!
"No, no, no!" she walked away, with her pumping head between her hands, screeching "Whut kind of Ouija board do ya' think you're playing with? Mr. J and I may not be tha' greatest looking samples in this disgusting laboratory but that doesn't mean you can use us as your sucking experimental rats! This has to be the most insane thing that has ever happened inside these creeping walls! And I have seen much more heavy shit than you two will ever do…!" she had to giggle suddenly at the memory of when the internees organized a whole night lasting dance battle, Puddin' and her made such a good pair. Then, she felt that freaking worn out night stabbing on her chest, her little love's mind was being turned into something much similar to what his nickname meant.
"And this is some decrepit, first psychology semester theory that I won't get myself involved with as easily as you did with Dr. Dickhead here! What the exact fuck, Johnny? We are friends, the three of us, allies! How could you do this to me?! To him?! You sold yourself to Arkham like a cheap, starved whore for actually nothing that can be proved to be given and now you want me to do it too? With a big-ass smile of a face that's not even mine?! Seriously how much more sick can ya' get? The point of being a psychologist is finding cures not getting high on hopes and selfish acts! This is disgusting! And I'm damn sure it isn't only because you've made a' junkie outta me for the past three motherfucking days! No, no! This ends right here, right now! Where's Arse-kham?! I need some bones tah' break and he's got some godsdamn pointy, crunchy ones I'd love to have between my fingers, specially this one!" and so she gave them the middle one, cracked her knuckles and made her way to the door. 'Wait! Are we really gonna' leave Mistah J at these two bad portrayed lunatics' mercy? … Ya' forgettin' whut he's taught us from the very beginning? Asses kicked first then damsels in distress rescued! … ah, so that's why he never came to rescue us, too many asses to kick I guess!' she then felt perfectly capable of turning Jeremiah into candle wax and then get her Puddin' back to their love nest so they could forget about that whole soap opera.
"Right here, Miss Quinzel…" the crazy old bag appeared right in front of her, almost asking a beating from her, she decided to be nice and grant his death wish "Not alone though, bad luck…" the guards grasped her arms and put a beautiful, new stun gun to her neck; quickly bringing her to her knees, embarrassingly immobilized "To my office, gentleman. We've kept Batman waiting long enough…" So she'd have a visit from Bats to end her perfect day, what else could she ask for?! Maybe that the foes hadn't dragged her like a trash bag and planted her to the chair in front of Arkham's desk when B-man wasn't looking. And when he did turn, he almost jumped inside his tight suit.
"God, you did mean every word you said, Doctor…" he was amazed! Ah, claps for the insane! This wasn't messing with her identity at all, no! This was genius doing, this was a wonder! "Is it really you, Quinn?"
"What's left a' me, yeah…" she replied, eyes to the floor and arms to the back.
"I'm a man of word, Batman. I told you we'd do even the impossible to ensure a good recovery for Mr. Joker… But now, it's entirely on Miss Quinzel's hands. I appreciate you volunteering to talk to her" any other thing concerning her she didn't have an idea of? He was running out of space on her list.
"Part of my duty, Dr. Arkham. I'll only request some privacy, please…" Jeremiah looked from her to him repeatedly before raising his elbows.
"Why not, I believe you're perfectly capable of handling her. In case something does happen, you know where to find the panic button…" he pulled along the guards with him and shut the door behind them.
"How are you?"
"Looking like shit under this pretty face, Batsy, ya' can bet your latex butt cheeks and say I'm feeling like that too" she didn't try to hide the hatred, what for?
"I guessed so… it wasn't easy for anyone, though… I knew you'd be like this" she mimicked his words displeasingly "And I'm sorry… for all of this, for him, for you… for having done absolutely nothing"
"Probably the brightest thing yer nasty winged rat tongue has ever said..." she conceded.
"That's why, I feel forced to consider this thoroughly, it's somewhat twisted and too hypothetical as I see it, still… it might be Joker's only chance" curious, she had started to weep herself all over, who wouldn't? With such a dark, low pitched voice from the, oh so glorious knight!
"Chance a' what, exactly? Losing all of his rights to choose whut he wants tah' do with his own damn life? This isn't my thing at all, but they know Puddin wouldn't let them do something as rotten as this! So they use me and keep him asleep and cooperating instead…"
"Quinn, I think both you and me agree he has suffered enough already. For what I was told, the man only wanted a comfortable life for his family, he's been left without any of that… you and you're affection towards him is all that he's got. It may not be the standard easy way, and I can't even imagine what it's like to be asked to become somebody different from you for the sake of your loved one's sanity… That's a test for anyone, how far would you go… what you would make yourself into for that someone. My intentions aren't to convince you, in fact I'd even dare to support you if you walked out of this and go back to the streets to cause terror in his memory. But, Harleen, I swear you can't understand what it's to lose what meant the world to you until it happens to you…" he wasn't facing her anymore, and she was glad, in one hand because she was a crying mess and on the other because she wouldn't take him seriously saying those things if he had been looking at her.
"Kay' I get that concept, now what ya'll don't seem to get is that this is simply the recipe of disaster! How do you expect a friggin' patient to heal another patient?! I'm not here just because of being a little too lovesick! I'm sick in many other ways! I'm not questioning the theory; they say it works, fine, whutevah'! I'm talking about the results here, the afterwards! Not only his mental stability but mine! And changing the topic for a second now… I heard mah' babies were the ones to open the Pandora, where they now?" she had to ask; now it did seems as if she was losing what meant for her the most.
"In the zoo, but as they're so aggressive they'll be sent off to a more fitting environment in Africa in few weeks hopefully…"
"Ya' took em' to the zoo?! Forget what I said! I'm sane enough to know they're bettah' off with two psycho clowns like us rather than in that hell ya' people call zoo!" she had run out of her tears to shed, at least they were alive. She should've known better than to leave them with the newbies… she wouldn't have been living that nightmare at that moment.
"So that's it… I was wondering what your only chance was in this case. Life's never easy on anybody…"
"Now, what's that jibber-jabber 'bout? For what I recall I've nevuh' wanted to play boring housewife for the rest a' my days! If I want I can kick my own ass outta' this and buh-bye!"
"And you'll never know what it was of him, you might not ever see him or hear of him again… Arkham said he's willing to find another one to do your part if you're unwilling, and we know he will. If his memory's so fragile now, he might think of anyone as Jeannie Nappier, as he's done with you, he won't remember no Doctor Quinzel… and no Harley Quinn, if he's lucky enough, the girl they choose will stick to her role and that would be the end of you two..." that sounded death sentence enough for her.
"Ya' sure you're not tryin' to convince me of anything? How much did Arkham slip into your undies?"
"Not enough to keep up with your hideous jokes… Look, if you do decide to go on with this, think of him… think of what he's gone through, think it'll only be for a short time before he's stable and ready to have a normal life. And if you do love him as much as you say you do, you'll love all of him… with a little bit of luck, maybe you too will get the life you dreamed of; try to explain him your reasons to be where you are and in return have a nice, loving man by your side to start a family. Who knows what could happen? Possibilities come in large, numerous groups, but for now… just think that the man you care for deeply is still inside that cell and you're his only way out of it, as it was the first time. Though this time, you have the opportunity of leaving, and never having to come back…"
At that moment Harley could only wonder how could she hadn't gone crazy when madness was inside every person and around every corner… the mere thought of it was nuts! And despite that, she was beginning to consider another mad hint! … That she didn't really have other choice but to accept.
To be continued…
Dreamer.