'I think she's waking up,' came a voice from above me. My eyes fluttered open, showing o blurred faces above. They were both wearing white, and looking at me with caution. I sat up, slowly and looked around, rubbing my banging head. The walls were a dirty shade of white and one wall was a huge sheet of clear glass. A table and a chair sat in one corner with a bed in the other. I saw out of the glass a dimly lit hall and another room opposite. Inside was empty, apart from a few personal items that I couldn't make out. I now looked at the people in front of her. The woman looked at her with a kind face, where as the man watched her, carefully.

'Where am I?'

'Your safe, Gwen,' she said in a sickly sweet voice which raised the hairs on the back of my neck. I racked my brain, trying to remember what happened. Safe?

'So I'm in Arkham? Aren't I?' I asked coolly. The man nodded, slowly, still watching my every move. I stood up, shakily, saying, 'when am I getting out of here?'

'When you're well,' came the mans voice. It was harsh, and cruel.

'Oh, so I'm ill am I?' I asked.

'Yes, my dear you are,' confirmed the woman.

'So, shouldn't I be in a hospital?' I said, keeping the tone in my voice nice.

'You are in a hospital,' chirped the woman. She was too sweet for my liking.

'No, no, no, no, this is a mental hospital. An asylum. A prison for mad people. You really think I'm mad?' I asked, in false kindness, bought by this woman, instantly.

'Oh no my dear!' she said.

I walked towards her, I said, 'So you don't think I'm a danger?' I was inches from her makeup coated face now, and I hissed, 'Cause I can be!'

She backed away, and the man pulled me back. 'What? Are you scared of little old me?' I mimicked the woman's voice, as they hurried from my cell, sealing it behind them, leaving me alone. I slumped onto the bed, feeling lost. I missed Bruce already, though at the same time, I resented him for putting me here. I looked across the hall and into the other room. It was still too hard to fathom what was in there, but it looked deserted. I looked around my bare room again. This was my new prison, then was it! At least with the Joker it had a bathroom and a fridge. I started fiddling with the ends of my plait, thinking about the Joker. Had I stayed in the warehouse that night, I wouldn't be here. I could be dead, but I could be with Jack. He had the right idea, I guess. Make your way around like he does, and you don't get hurt. Well…emotionally.

At that point a bell rang out. I sat up, quickly, as the door opened again, revealing the man who was here before. He had an orange jumpsuit in his arms.

'Here, change into this, quickly and I'll be back in five minutes.'

He handed me the suit, turning and leaving the room again. I quickly changed, leaving my purple t-shirt and jeans on the bed. Once ready, I waited for the mans return, which was a minute later.

'In the Asylum, there is an hour every day where the inmates go to the dining hall for breakfast, lunch and dinner. There are armed guards watching all the time while the inmates are allowed to socialise,' he seemed to be warning me when he said this.

'Great! I get to meet the neighbours now!' I said sarcastically. He led me out of my cell, and down the corridor. As we passed other cells, I saw people I had seen only on the news. A man I understood as the Riddler, or Edward Nigma. I also saw the woman, Poison Ivy, Jonathan Crane or The Scarecrow. I'd read all their files when I first became a cop. I understood how they felt being stuck in here now. Once at the dining, hall, the man left me after pointing me where to get food. The food was…ok. Actually. Not as bad as I had thought. It was shepherds pie, something I hadn't had in a long time.

I was sat on my own, playing with my food, when I heard a voice above me say, 'I hear you had a run-in with ma Puddin'!'

I looked up to see a young woman with blonde bunches and big blue eyes. She sat down in front of me, waiting for an answer.

'Puddin'?' I said, raising an eyebrow at my visitor.

'My Mister J!' she replied in a high pitched voice.

'You mean the Joker?' I asked. She nodded, smirking. 'How do you know the Joker?'

'I'm his little Harley Quinn! And he's my Mister J!' she replied, a little taken aback.

'Harley Quinn! I've heard a lot about you! You used to work here, didn't you?' I asked, abandoning my shepherd's pie.

'Aha, that's right. Until my Puddin' saved me! What I wanna know is how you know my Puddin'!' she said folding her arms on the table.

'Long story, Quinn! And how do you know about that anyway?' I wondered. She pointed to the small TV mounted on one of the pillars.

'It was on the news! You've been on a few times, but Mister J's been on more. Them coppers are all about him now!' she sighed in adoration, gazing at the TV which had now switched to a breaking news point. A man was on the TV now, his face covered with makeup like the Joker's reading out a letter.

'- and anyone left here plays by my rules. If you don't want to be part of it, leave now,' he said, with the Joker's cruel voice in the background, highlighting certain words, 'but the bridge on the west side is sure in for a surprise! Ha ha ha-' but he was cut off by the Jokers cackling. Harley sighed again, staring at the screen that had now turned to a frantic news reporter.

'So, how'd you end up here?' I asked Harley, who seemed to be snapped back to reality at my voice.

'Long story, Wayne!' she smirked.

'What I don't get, Wayne, is why ma Puddin' chose you! What's special about you?' she pointed out. It sounded offensive to anyone else, but I understood her point.

'Well, we have… a history, shall we say,' I interjected, 'We were best mates as kids.'

'Seriously! Is there anything I should know about ma Puddin'?' she said, seriously.

'Like what?' I said suspiciously.

'Like…erm…what's his name?' she asked, quietly. I laughed. I don't know why, I just did.

'You mean, you don't know?' I laughed, earning a harsh look from Harley.

'I know everything else about him apart from that tiny detail! And that doesn't matter! It's only a name! I gave mine up too!' defended Harley, pointing a finger at me.

'Harleen Quinzel! Do you know how he got those scars?' I asked. She looked taken aback.

'Of course! He did it to himself for his wife, but the bitch left him!' she said, so confident that she was right. I laughed again.

'What else has he told you, Harley?' I smirked.

'Oh and you know how he got them scars?' she said n a cocky voice.

I nodded, 'yep, and you know what, I stitched them up! He came to me when his face was carved, and I stitched them back up again! You can't believe everything he tells you!' I confided. She looked a little confused when I told her this, her trust in the Joker failing a little, before she shook herself, saying, 'Mister J can tell me a million lies, but I still love him! And I know he's coming for me! He's coming to save me from here! You'll see, Wayne! You will see!'

I smiled, her innocence and her obsession I found amusing. She was growing impatient.

'Don't you worry; I'm not taking him from you! You too are madly perfect for each other!' I said, raising my hands in mock surrender.

'Good!' she said, forcefully, looking away from me, but looking back, smiling, and it seemed genuine, 'Any way, you don't seem like his type!'

'Well he's not mine!' I laughed again. After a second of thinking I said, 'Why?'

Harley smirked, 'Well, look at you! Ex cop, you don't look like the type to have ever killed anyone, and to be honest, you're not his type for looks!' she was very honest, Harley was!

'Thanks mate!' I said, sarcastically.

'How's he not your type, anyway?' asked Harley, curiously. I rolled my eyes.

'Well, for starters, the makeup's a bit mad!' I said.

'I think it's amazing! My Mister J has excellent style!'

'Whatever you say, Quinn!'

'You're ok, Wayne! Bit weird, but you're ok! If ma Puddin' likes you then you must be ok!' said Harley, a bit against her better judgement.

'Thanks, mate!' I said again. She smirked, and I returned it. At least there was on person in there who was alright. Despite what I thought, I wasn't alone.