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Harley skipped through Galavan's penthouse, appearing fascinated by everything around her. She had reached out to pick up a particularly ugly base when she heard a voice, "Don't touch that."
Harley quickly snatched her hand back and whirled around to face the owner of the penthouse himself, "Sorry, I'm not used to so many fancy things."
Galavan looked at her with a slightly condescending smile, "I understand. Why don't you join the others, they're currently examining my collection of weapons."
"You wouldn't happen to have an extra bat, would you?" She smiled childishly before skipping off in the direction that Galavan had indicated.
His smile dropped the moment the young girl left the room.
Harley watched on the cameras as the two detectives made their way into the building. She only spared a few seconds to let herself hope that they were here to shut the facility down before she quickly shoved the hopeless dream from her head. It was time to take things into her own hands, there wasn't much time.
Harley accosted the two detectives in a corridor, timing her meeting perfectly so that she would be able to avoid the cameras. She found herself momentarily confused by the expressions on the faces of the detectives before brushing it off and deciding that there were more important matters at hand. She stared the younger one down, "You have to get Oswald Cobblepot out of here. Strange wants to make an example out of him. I don't know how much more of the 'therapy' he can take."
Jim Gordon wasn't a dumb man. He knew that the girl in front of him was dangerous, he'd seen her kill a man in cold blood once. However, he found himself oddly inclined to agree with her even though he had absolutely no reason to. He forced a harsh frown onto his face and ground out through clenched teeth, "Cobblepot killed a man. He has to pay for what he did."
Harley rolled her eyes and tried to up the charm, "You're cops, you kill people everyday. Don't act high and mighty, I've seen what the cops in this town are like."
"We do what we have to do," Harvey Bullock could also feel the effect that the girl was having on him and he tried to fight it.
"I don't think that's entirely true, is it?" She flashed Jim a cocky smirk while staring him dead in the eyes. She couldn't remember much from before but she could remember the things she had learned about body language. She knew that both detectives were feeling the effects of Strange's gift and also that Gordon was guilty. His eyes were shifty and his hands were figity, not to mention the sweat that he was trying to ignore as it slowly crawled down the side of his face like a spider. He was hiding something and she could guess what. She didn't know why but she knew that she had once been someone who was expected to be able to analyze people with just a glance, and she also knew that she was good at it.
"So you're gonna get Ozzy out right?" She glanced between the two men with hopeful eyes.
Gordon took in a deep breathe and then slowly exhaled through his nose, "Not a chance, Quinn."
Interesting, he knew her name. Maybe he knew her from before. That wasn't important now, though. She needed to make sure Oswald was safe. She had promised him.
"Look," she scowled at the younger detective, "I don't care about your sense of Justice or whatever you're hiding. This place is not what it seems and I don't want to have to watch my only friend continue to be hurt by some Frankenstein wannabe."
"There's nothing we can do. Sorry," the detective didn't seem nearly as sorry as he tried to. Bastard.
A couple weeks passed and the 'therapy' continued for both Harley and Oswald. Oswald became more 'sane'. Harley's memories became more unclear. Unfortunately, Strange was actually good at his job. The mad scientist part at least.
Harley's glazed eyes surveyed the poor man in front of her. He was shaking and seemed to be perpetually nervous, constantly glancing at everyone around him as if the whole world was out to get him. She hated knowing that Strange had managed to hurt her friend, her only friend, like this and she was powerless to stop it. She couldn't even help herself.
She gently reached out and took his hand in hers, giving him her best attempt at a kind smile, "You're going to get out of here, I promise you. When you're out they won't be able to hurt you anymore."
He gave her a weak smile and squeezed her hands with what strength he had left, "You're going to get out of here as well."
She just kept holding onto his hands as she tried to keep herself from looking too jaded. She highly doubted that she'd ever make it out. She gave him a heartbroken smile.
Despite being a blonde and the stereotypes that came with it, Harleen Quinzel was a smart girl. She always kept her grades up and carefully calculated each decision before making it. She was logical to a fault and often forgot to take the feelings of others into account. She was willing to hurt others to get what she needed and she didn't even regret it. In fact, there were few people that she felt fondness for.
The only people that Harleen truly cared for were her brothers. Part of the reason she had chosen to become a psychologist was so that she would be able to make enough money to support them (if she didn't then their piece of shit dad certainly wasn't going to) and ensure that they were well taken care of. The elder brother was ten and just beginning to realise just how awful the world truly was and the younger was five and an absolute ray of sunshine. They meant everything to her and she would do anything to keep them safe.
When she landed the internship at Arkham she knew it was a sign that things were getting better. With the paycheck from the job she would be able to support her brothers and herself and possible even move out of their barely livable apartment in the Narrows.
For the first time in years Harleen had hope for a better future.
