Don't stop now baby! Sorry for the sporadic updates but this semester is more than I can handle atm. But thanks so much for the constant support and reviews! I read them all to get inspired to post again! And thank to Victoria & Purrcilla who found me on youtube and reminded me to write again. You're awesome! I'm really working against the clock now to get most of my ideas up before the extended cut is released. I still might just stick to my own headcanons for those deleted scenes no matter what tho…
Onward~
xi ; absinthe
Harleen always thought bravery was a word preserved for people who were about to die. Maybe a firefighter running into a burning fire or a child facing some incurable disease.
Bravery was not a word for a girl who visited death like an old friend and greeted danger with a smirk each morning.
Yet, it seemed to take a great deal of courage for her to return to the Asylum that Monday.
And once she saw it looming over her like a gothic cathedral, she felt a great weight upon her shoulders.
The time to move on and forget the Joker had come and past. Dead mobsters and mysterious roses aside, the man had invaded her every thought, her house, and her dreams. Yet, he no longer had the upper hand. She knew what had happened the night they met, even if she didn't comprehend why, or understand her own actions. She knew something that, for once, he did not. She knew her own story, and he was no longer the narrator.
What did she plan to say to him? Where did she think their meeting would go? She couldn't have been completely positive. All she knew was something was about to end. Or, something far more exciting was about to begin.
She sauntered through the halls as almost every head turned to her. Her long wavy locks were down, as she clicked by in 6 inch heels much less office formal attire. She would meet him as Harleen today instead of some imaginary Doctor.
But first, a possibly more terrifying meeting had to occur, her explanation to Doctor Serano.
The Doctor sat in her office typing up emails. Harleen didn't bother on knocking before strutting into her in vogue office space.
Serano glanced up to her and had to do a double take. Harleen only smirked.
"I'm back," she said smoothly, waiting for her entrance applause.
Serano narrowed her brow to her.
"You're too late," she said, looking back to her computer screen.
Harleen made a small laugh in confusion.
"What? You found someone else? Over the weekend?"
"No," she retorted annoyed, "You're too late to meet with him today."
Harleen blinked, "I don't understand?"
Doctor Serano looked back to her. She wanted to laugh in her face. If she was wishing to catch that man's attention she would need more than Forever 21 apparel.
"He's not in his cell. He's not in the therapy wing. He's in a different part of Arkham altogether."
Harleen didn't understand. "Well, where else could he be? Did you all invent something worse than solitary confinement while I was gone?"
"Not while you were gone, no."
"Then where is he?"
"It's confidential," she quickly answered.
"I'm his Doctor!" Harleen laughed.
"A Doctor without a diploma!" she spat, silencing her. "A Doctor who gave me her two week notice…"
Harleen sighed, recoiling her crusade a bit embarrassed. "That was a mistake," she lamented.
"Mistakes cost you dearly around here," Serano warned.
Harleen could only stare to her, wondering what she meant by that.
Serano continued nonchalantly.
"Now, why don't you go back to where ever you came from? By the looks of it, perhaps the street corner outside Wendy's…?"
"Maybe I will!" snapped Harleen, "But first, tell me where my patient is. If only for the sake of our meeting on Tuesday," she said, hoping reasoning would soften the Doctor's iron grasp.
Serano groaned exasperated before reluctantly standing up.
"I didn't want it to come to this, Harleen."
"Come to what?" she asked watching curiously as the Doctor reached under her desk, pulling open a draw.
"Oh life, and all its complete unfairness."
Harleen searched the Doctor's dark eyes, suddenly feeling her life being threatened. She looked to Serano's hand, still concealed in the under the desk and seeming be toying with something.
"I'll be gone from your sight as soon as you tell me," said Harleen, trying to divert her attention. "Just tell me, I won't even go looking!"
Serano frowned, firming her hold the concealed object.
And then, Harleen heard a familiar clicking sound. Suddenly, memories from the night at the club filled her vision. The alerting noise of a pistol being cocked, just before the thunderous release of the bullet.
Crazy bitch, thought Harleen. She was just as psycho as him…
"This is your last chance to start over," said Serano with a final warning, "go home, and leave Gotham."
Harleen looked to her, the thought was enough to break her heart.
"I can't go home. There's no place I can go! Nowhere to escape him. You must know…"
"Don't you dare!" she hissed, momentarily losing her cool exterior, "Don't you ever assume our lives are comparable."
Harleen looked to her wide-eyed. Serano smirked at her uneasiness as her finger teased the trigger of the gun she hid.
"Security will be in here momentarily to escort you out."
Harleen opened her mouth to protest but Serano stopped her.
"Don't worry," she said sitting back down, "you're not fired. I'm not done with you yet..."
Harleen narrowed her brow at her last words.
Before she had a moment to react, security entered the room. Harleen looked to them as they stared to her in confusion.
"What's the problem?" one asked looking to Serano who had glanced back to her computer screen.
"Doctor Quinzel isn't feeling well. She's had quite the shock. She'll need someone to escort her off property."
Harleen staggered back as her eyes remained on Serano.
"What are you hiding?" she asked quietly as Serano's eyes snapped back to hers. "You and the Joker…?"
"Now, now, Harleen. You need to go home and rest. This days has been a bit too much for you," said the Doctor, in an ominous tone.
"No!" she cried as she felt the men's hands on her. "She's keeping my patient from me, I promise I am fully capable of handling myself!"
"It's okay, Doctor Quinzel," said one guard escorting her toward the door, "the job gets to the best of us."
Harleen looked wildly between them and the Doctor who sat emotionlessly at her desk.
"See you tomorrow," Serano added just as she was pulled away from the office.
Suddenly, Harleen knew how it felt to be a patient. To have your sanity questioned and neglected. To have your freedom snatched away by the fat hands of guards.
They quickly walked her down various hallways that twisted through the labyrinths of the asylum.
Harleen looked numbly to the passing doors and windows they passed. Each one, possibly holding him. Him. Where was he? Why did she fear for his wellbeing? What was the cost a deranged doctor was willing to make?
One guard stopped at the security office as the other held her by the arm. They stood alone in the hallway waiting to be cleared to exit.
She looked up to him as he leaned next to her. She realized she recognized him as the man usually assigned to helping her with the Joker.
"Can you believe it, Grim?" she asked. "Where they have that clown locked away today?"
The man glanced to her before looking back down the hallway and smirking.
"Fifth times the charm, I guess."
She laughed, "Fifth? That many, huh?"
"Oh yeah. The freak doesn't learn. Afterword he might seem different. Maybe you can get one or two sane sentences out of the guy. But, within a few hours. He's back."
"And they keep trying? Isn't it waste of time?"
"Nah. I think they like watching him suffer for a change."
"Suffer?" she asked, her heart suddenly feeling heavy.
"Yeah," he laughed boorishly, "I heard they up the voltage every time too. Soon, his brain'll be as fried as a turkey in November."
Harleen looked away. Voltage. He was in electroshock therapy… what wing was that again? She closed her eyes imaging the map of the building.
"Everything okay, Doc?" asked the man looking down to her.
She smiled, raising a hand to her forehead and feigning lightheaded-ness.
"Oh, sure… I just feel… Kinda dizzy." She leaned against the man, making sure her cleavage pressed against his beer gut.
"Woah there," he chuckled, an arm slinking around her waist. "Don't worry, I got ya."
She smiled up to him and giggled, "My hero!"
He smirked down to her, careful to enjoy the sight of her body in his arms.
"Hey, uh, if you need someone to escort you home I could tell em I gotta pick up my daughter early fr-"
With that, Harleen grabbed his shoulders, and used his body as leverage to knee him in the lower stomach.
He instantly fell to ground, gasping in pain.
In the next moment, she ran off, hopefully in the direction of the proper wing.
All though, she didn't get to the end of hallway before having to stop to take off her heels. She glanced back to see the security guard radioing for backup.
"That crazy fucking bitch is loose…" he moaned before she smiled and dashed off, continuing her search.
She made her way across the asylum, passing attendants and inmates who stared to her as she jauntily walked by, her shoes in hand.
Finally, she seemed to enter the more hospice like therapy section of Arkham. A group of doctors emerged chatting from a room and she quickly rushed them.
"Excuse me, I'm Patient 0's Psychiatrist."
There was an awkward pause as they looked to her to oddly.
She cleared her throat and tried to hide the fact that she was out of breath, "I'd like to see him, if he's up to it, or not, either way. Where is he?"
One of the men decided to interact with the wild looking woman, "F 221. I get the curiosity. Like watching a car wreck."
"More like watching your team win the super bowl," injected another man to get a laugh from the others.
Harleen politely giggled along with the group, though she inwardly cursed them up and down.
"Take your time. He's not going anywhere," assured the man before they passed her.
Harleen watched as they walked away, laughing and joking as if leaving a bar. Suddenly, she became aware of what she was about to do.
Maybe it was the thrill of having a gun pointed to her head that drove her back to him. Just as pointing a gun to another man thrilled her the night they met.
She turned and began to look for the room number, wondering all the while if she could actually commit to meeting with him in such circumstances.
She also wondered if, little by little, and day by day, she was somehow being persuaded by him. She thought, what else could he persuade her to do?
She stopped outside the door.
Could he persuade her to feel something for man who shouldn't be able to feel anything at all?
Those eyes…
And that charming tongue…
They could persuade the holy to sin, and the sinful to repent.
She scanned her thumbprint and the door creaked open.
There, in a small orderly room, was the Joker unconscious in bed. His forearms and legs bound with his eyes closed and mind at ease. He looked peaceful. He looked harmless. He looked dead.
His head turned to face her. His soft lips turned down in slight frown. His emerald hair fell over his forehead and seemed to have a slight wave to it.
Her lips parted as she shut the door and slowly walked over to him.
And then, she noticed the oddest thing. Natural light shone through a window and seemed to fill everywhere except for the shadow that concealed the man.
She blinked in the light and gazed to him in curiosity.
She pondered how many had gotten to see the rogue in such a state of serenity. So vulnerable and alone.
She reached out to touch his skin, perhaps brush against his arm, just to feel that odd white flesh. Yet, just when she was an inch away, he jolted to alertness.
She jumped back as his eyes hazily looked up to meet hers. And suddenly, he seemed to calm himself, and exhale in relief.
"You…" he said quietly.
She made a small smile.
"It's me," she assured him quietly.
He smiled back, his eyelids heavy as his head rested against the pillow.
"Doc," he breathed, "how did I know you would turn up in my dreams…?"
Her mouth fell open. His speech as so casual. And his tone wasn't gravely and showy, but ordinary.
He was just normal, like someone had flipped a switch on a washer machine.
"You're not dreaming, Mister J. You've been through a horrible procedure. Something I had nothing to do with."
He smiled and chuckled to himself, his hand reached out for her, as far as the constraints would allow. He lightly brushed a finger along her arm.
She held her breath as he looked up to her again.
"Harley Quinn."
She smiled. The name coming from his lips sent her heart in wheeling. Not even Purple Passion could inspire such ecstasy.
"I'm sure all your friends call you that…" he concluded.
She shook her head, "They don't. But I don't really have friends."
"Well Harley," he said looking to her arm as his finger lazily lingered across her flesh, "you have one now."
She giddily laughed at the sensation. Their first physical interaction.
"I don't think you and me are going to be friends," she said with a wicked smirk.
He laughed breathily, "Then maybe we'll be enemies… maybe I'll kill you… then mourn for the rest of my life…"
She watched as his eyes closed and his voice became quieter as he turned away from her.
She stepped closer to him and leaned over the bed.
"Mister J?"
He turned back to her, observing her face in awe.
As she gazed back to him, she felt as though she was looking at a man she had never met. Yet, someone who knew her and her every last secret.
"You won't leave again, will you?" he asked, suddenly, painfully.
She blinked, mesmerized by his blue eyes.
"I… I won't."
"Good," he said, his eyes flickering down to her lips as his tongue ran tantalizingly over his own.
"Can I… ask you something, now?" she asked.
"Anythhhing."
"Do you remember me… from the night at the Gin and Bare It?"
"Oh doll," he laughed lowly, a hint of his usual voice echoed in his words. "How could I forget… the night we met?"
She smiled tom him so large, her face ached.
And then, feeling that strangely forbidden sense of bravery, she reached into the shadows and took his hand in hers.
Their hands mingled together as she carefully lowered her head closer to his.
And, when her only thought was focused on the possibly of his lips meeting hers, there was a violent string of knocks at the door.
"QUINZEL!" called the guard. "SECURITY! OPEN THE DOOR!"