It's been a long day at Arkham.
I'm just about to exit the building and clamber into my car after when fast footsteps echo through the hallway.
"Doctor Quinzel!" Ed, the guard, sprints up to me from the other side of the long corridor.
"Yes?" I take a couple steps towards him cautiously.
"The Joker – he - you have to go to his cell, right now! Stone's not here and we don't know what to do! It's urgent!" I take one look at the panic in the guard's eyes and turn on my heel, falling into a brisk run to the elevator.
"Explain. Now!" The guard starts rambling at twenty words per second. "Woah slow down – what's happening?"
"He was having a psychotic break – we have no idea what brought it on – so guards went in and handcuffed him to the bed, gave him a sedative…"
"… And?"
"A nurse went in to give him his second sedative because, well you know how we always give him two just in case, and – s-she didn't even check with the head nurse, she just ran in there with a syringe! Then… the screaming started."
"What?! Why wasn't he strapped to the bed?! Cuffs don't work with him"
"Well he was already sedated heaps – I mean heaps! So nobody really thought he needed a straitjacket… You know how much of a bitch those things are to get on him!" Ed stated sheepishly.
"So what the hell does he want?"
The guard paused. "You." My mouth drops. Ed continues hestitantly. "He keeps yelling for you."
"Let's go, then!"
We scurry to his cell in a matter of seconds.
Thank God Stone isn't here tonight.
There are a handful of guards huddled around the door. They all look to me for instruction as soon as Ed shouts out to them.
"Doc, what should we do?" One of them asks in a panicked voice.
"Just - just give me some space. If all he wants is me, then I'll go in there and get Irene out." I say as calmly as I can, though I can feel my hands getting clammier with each step I take.
"What? You're going in by yourself?!" Another guard yells in disbelief.
"The longer we wait the more harmful it is for Irene! Move aside." I'm met with worried faces, so I give up reasoning and bustle past them.
"Uh… Joker?" I knock on the door hesitantly. Something white is covering the pane of plexiglass, blocking the view into his room.
"I want Harley." He sounds odd. Slurry. His voice deeper than usual. I can also hear the sound of muffled cries; Irene the nurse.
"Joker, it's Harley. I know you have someone in there with you. If I come in, you have to let her go, okay?"
"Harley Quinn." He mutters again, this time he sounded nearer; just on the other side of the door.
"Al-alright then. I'm coming in." I nod at the guard, who'd backed away.
"Don't do anything stupid." I mutter to the guards.
One of the guards says lowly "Just get her and yourself the hell out of there!"
I punch in the security code and the door release sounds. Pulling the door ajar enough for me to squeeze through, I hear the distinct sound of a body falling to the floor.
At first I thought the Joker must've finally succumbed to the sedative - but upon seeing the tall figure bound towards me, snatch me up, and force the door shut (much to the guards' surprise), I realise it wasn't his body that hit the ground.
My head is smacked against the closed door once; making my vision swim, then he drags me over to his cot.
Sitting down first, he wrenches me onto the bed with him; almost dislocating my shoulder in the process. His back is against the wall. He hooks an arm around my waist, crushing my face to his shoulder with his other hand.
Metal glints in my vision and as my eyes focus, I realise that the end of his handcuff is open, a hairpin jammed into the lock. Irene's hair pin, no doubt.
Oh God, Irene...
I actually gasp at loud when I look at the ground and see Irene. The young trainee nurse who had been administered to give her patient his sedative – a task she must have deemed as harmless given The Joker's heavily drug induced state - lays crumpled on the floor facing the bed. Blonde hair covering half her face and her head sagging at an odd angle; an impossible angle.
I feel a sickening swirl in my stomach as it dawns on me that Jack has snapped her neck. I suppose this, for him, was a rather humane way of killing.
"Dr. Quinzel?!" The guards yell, almost in unison.
"I'm fine," I pause, regarding Irene's body with shock, "but Irene…"
"What?!" I hear thumping on the door, Jack tightens his grip around me until I'm struggling to breathe.
"Stop! Just stay out there! She's… She's dead, there's nothing you can do." I shout, moments before Jack slaps a hand over my mouth. Stunned silence befalls the guards.
"You were going to leave me." He mutters into my hair after a few minutes of me panting through my nose.
"Is that why you attacked me in my office, Jack?"
"… I lost you… I just didn't want you to leave me." Well you kind of went about it the wrong way, Jack. Now he's – no, he can't be –crying?!
He's hugging me around the middle and crying.
"Don't, don't, don't, don't!" he was rasping repeatedly, his voice a high, panicked whine. I feel my ribs grinding together and soon I am also crying out in pain. Fear blooms in my chest at the memory of what his hands are capable of.
"Jack!" He grabs my face and his incredibly dilated pupils stare into mine. His hands rise to my face and he grasps my head with a hand each side of my ear.
"You can't!" He yells into my face, his voice deep and booming.
I flinch back. His muscles coil and his elbows extend and I realise with a fresh sheen of fear that he is preparing to snap my neck just like Irene's.
Purely on a whim, I crush my body against his as much as I can, wrapping my arms around him in a tight embrace. His shock and confusion allows me to slip my head forwards out of his grip and I slide my head beside his.
"Shh." I coo gently in a shaky voice as I cup the back of his head. Jack is still tense, most likely still too shocked to react, but slowly I can feel him easing into it. "You're okay." I whisper soothingly. "Shh, we're going to be okay."
Finally he hugs me back and it is tight – not rib-crushingly tight – but tight enough; full of need.
"Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't hate me." He whispers. I do nothing but nod my understanding and hush him, staring at the dead nurse, whose glassy blue eyes are set upon my face.
What have you done, Harleen?
The limb wrapped around my upper arms is heavy and making it difficult for me to draw in a full breath. His other hand had shuffled my shirt upwards and was now clenched on the flesh of my hip.
"Did I do that?" He asks, pointing at the dead nurse.
"Yes…" I whisper.
"Oh." He looks saddened and I'm taken aback. Jack's file states that he lacks total empathy for anyone, especially his victims.
"Do you remember doing that, Jack?"
"I remember… I remember…" He ponders aloud, testing the words. His brow furrows in confusion.
Jesus, what the hell have you done to him, Harleen?!
This isn't what I expected to happen! He's now patting the exposed flesh of my hip and I'm disturbed by the fact it's somewhat... soothing.
"Did I do that?" He asks again, a hint of panic in his voice. Jack is staring at Irene again.
"Uh… Yes."
"Why did I do that?" A baffled look crosses his face, concern lifts his eyebrows.
"I don't know, Jack…"
"Why did I do that…?" He repeats.
"I don't know, Jack. Why did you do that?"
He takes a long time to respond. "I didn't… You're alive… Don't go. I don't want you to go."
A deep frown ebbs onto my face; I'm stricken with guilt at both The Joker's current condition and Irene's.
"No Jack… Not me… The nurse, down there." I incline my head towards Irene.
"What?" He mutters. "She's not a nurse, she's my doctor."
I feel as though a shard of ice has pierced my stomach as it dawns on me.
"Jack- James, did you think that nurse was me?" I'm whispering now, afraid of his answer and all too aware of how strong his grip on my torso is.
Jack's brow creases as he tries to process the question. "Did… Do you think that's Doctor Quinzel on the floor?" I try again.
Oh god, I don't know how I'd gotten it in my head that I was – what? Too special for The Joker to kill?
"I didn't at first… Then she was you." He frowns further, his grip becoming more forceful. "Did I do that?" He asks for the third time, his tone thick with panic now.
His nails are digging into my hip now.
"No, no – don't worry Jack, you didn't do that. I'm here, see?" Wait - he isn't… he couldn't be – showing signs of lament? This man is not supposed to capable of regret.
"I killed you so you'd stay." He mumbles into my hair. Oh God. If I thought I felt sick before, I definitely felt sick now. His vacant eyes peel away from Irene's face and land instead on mine. "You're not going to leave me?"
"No, Jack. I'll stay right here." I say in a shaky voice, attempting to calm him by sounding calm myself. Jack tugs me upwards so that my head is on his right shoulder and buries his face in my hair unabashedly, breathing in deeply.
I shiver as he exhales and remain motionless, too terrified to move in case he does to me what he did to Irene… Or rather, what he thought he had done to me.
Holy shit he killed me.
Jack's lengthy body is pressing into the back of me, emanating unbelievable warmth. The heat is getting uncomfortable but at least he has lessened his grip somewhat.
He starts to… I don't know how to describe it. Snore? Purr? I try to edge out of his grip but he just tightens his hold.
We sit like this for a few minutes and I begin to suspect he has fallen asleep until suddenly, his right hand is reaching for my chest. I hold my breath as he slips it under my bra and places his palm just above my left breast.
I freeze, expecting him to fondle or grope but he does neither. He simply leaves his hand resting there and I soon realize he is feeling my heartbeat, which at the moment is beating rapidly.
After resting his hand there for a few minutes, my pulse slows as I relax into it.
Does he find this soothing? I risk a glance up at his face. His eyes are pressed shut, mouth slack. He looks… peaceful.
The guards yell out to me, pulling me out of my stupor. Jack tightens his hold on me even more but doesn't open his eyes.
"I'm okay, I'm okay. I'll be alright 'til morning." I half yell.
"Dr. Quinzel, we can't allow you to stay in there wi-"
"The chances of me staying alive are higher if you don't try and get me out!" I interject.
"Harleen!" Stone bellows. I cringe as I recognise his voice.
"This isn't like last time, David. He's not with it, he'll snap my neck like he has Irene's." My voice breaks on Irene's name. "Please, please trust me on this one and just stay out!" I hear murmurings through the door, but nothing more is yelled through the door at me.
The Joker's leg encircles mine and he curls, forcing me to roll into the foetal position. I accept the situation. Looks like I'll be sleeping next to a murderer tonight.
***
I wake up.
Which immediately startles me as it means I fell asleep next to him.
He's sitting on the ground across the narrow room, staring at me with his legs sprawled out in front of him and his back against the wall. I blink at him as all my thoughts strike me at once. I force my eyes to stay on his face and not on Irene, who I know is still in a heap on the ground.
"Feeling guilty are we?" Jack asks in a quiet voice from his position on the floor.
"What?" I ask croakily. I know exactly what he's talking about.
"I think we both know why I went a little," he whistles twice and twiddles a finger in a spiral beside his ear, "last night, Harley." He taps Irene's face lightly with his foot, then looks back to me. "That wasn't very neighbourly of you now, was it?"
I panic as he gets to his feet and steps towards me; subconsciously backing myself further against the wall. He simply stops a foot in front of the cot, looking down at me with a small smile.
"Oh, no need to look so nervous, cupcake. I'm not angry, I'm impressed." I accidentally look at Irene again, sickened at myself, but continue to play dumb.
"What are you saying, Joker?" His eyebrows ark as if to say 'Oh I'm back to 'Joker' now, am I?'
"How keen was my buddy Crane, hmm? How easy was it to persuade him?" I stare up at his face, his eyes bore into mine but he says nothing, just waits for me to admit – as we both know I will.
"Can you blame me?" I whisper, defeated.
He pauses, considering. "I can't blame you for trying to get even, Harley." Jack states evenly.
He waits for my response again as my gaze unwillingly rolls over Irene's face. I put my head in my hands. Guilt swoons in my chest.
"I wanted to scare you…" I mutter at the bed.
"Because I scared you." He concludes for me knowingly.
"You could've killed me." I retort. A flashback of the incident in my office comes to mind and I swallow at the memory of him on top of me with his hands around my neck.
"Mmm… Could have, but didn't." He states evenly.
"You almost killed me." I'm surprised he can still hear me as I draw my knees into my chest and mumble into them.
"But didn't. If there's one thing you should know about me Harls, it's that I know a thing or two about how to kill someone." I glance at Irene again from my position with my knees at my chest. "I don't want you dead, Harls."
He takes another step closer to the bed and I continue to stare at Irene's face.
"Y-you killed her because you wanted me dead…"
"No. I killed her because she wouldn't stop screaming."
"You… you remember?!" Jack nods once.
"She didn't have to die!" I yell abruptly. Jack shoots me a look as if to say 'Yeah, so?'
I shake my head in frustration, giving up on trying to reason with him. I pinch the bridge of my nose and allow the situation to sink in.
Jack waits patiently, I can feel him staring at me.
"Can… Can you at least move her?" I ask in a small voice after taking a minute.
He turns to regard Irene's body indifferently. "Does it bother you, Harley? It shouldn't. You shouldn't even think of it as a person anymore. It's just a pile of matter now; dead cells and what-not."
"Is that how you see all the people you murder? Faceless piles of matter?"
"After I kill 'em, yep." He states with a shrug.
"You're sick." I whisper.
"But it's the best kind of sick, dollface." He shoots back with a leer.
I shake my head, my words failing me.
"Now let's get you back to your little friends before they gas the place." Jack mocks, pointing his thumb towards the door.
I blink at him. "I can go now?" I ask incredulously, sure he was going to be difficult and bargain with them in order to release me.
"Yep."
"So you're really not angry at me…?"
"I got to spend the morning watching you sleep, why would I be angry?" He smiles warmly and it unsettles me. "Don't wooooorry so much, cupcake."
"I still can't be your therapist again, you know. There's no way Stone will let you anywhere near me after all of this. And after… what you did to Irene-" I cut myself off, swallowing back the bile that had risen to my throat. "I doubt he'll even grace you with another therapist for quite some time."
"Okay." Jack chirps.
"'Okay'?" I query cautiously. The Joker just regards me, pleasant-faced. "That's-that's all?"
"Well, if you're hands are tied." He shrugs, sweeping his hand and motioning to the door.
"I can really leave?" I ask again, half expecting him to pounce at me as soon as I stand.
"'Course you can." He laughs light-heartedly, as if I'm silly for asking. I rise unsteadily and his arms glides forwards to meet me.
I start instinctively and he chuckles, placing his palm against my cheek.
"Hey, hey, settle down." He purrs as I tremble. "How's your face healin' up?"
I stare at the ground, refusing to meet his gaze.
"It's fine." I try to shift away from his hand but his thumb slips down, over my lips, then his whole hand slips down to my throat.
I gasp and expect him to squeeze and demand my attentive gaze, but he just rests his hand there lightly. After what feels like an hour of this, I risk a glance up at him and notice that his eyes are pressed closed. His hand is hot and I'm feeling claustrophobic with his close proximity in this tiny room.
"Your heart is beating so fast." He comments slowly.
He smiles as he opens his eyes are stares down into mine. "Just how scared of me are you, Harley?"
"Can't you tell?" I whisper. He chuckles again and the sound sends chills down my spine.
"Yet here you are." I don't know how to respond so I say nothing and avert my gaze again.
His hand slips to my shoulder, then to the small of my back. He is pulling me towards him – his other arm lacing around my waist as he embraces me. My face is pressed into his chest. I smell soap, mixed with that musky scent that all men have.
He's hugging me again… Is all I can think. My arms hang limply at my sides.
Then, he is silently releasing me and turning me towards the door. I feel numb as I fumble at the lock.
I turn to see Jack on his knees with his hands behind his head, poker faced and ready for the onslaught of guards.
I wrench the door open, waiting for my own onslaught from Stone.
