Chapter 14:

It would be as early as the following week that their regular routine continued. Harley was shocked to see, as the two guards brought him in, looking scared shitless, that nearly all of the injuries The Joker had sustained from 9 days previous were now gone. She'd heard he was known to recover quickly, but he had been beaten so badly, surly it would have taken longer! But not with him. Just another way in which he was exceptional!

She watched the two men handling him with disdain. They didn't even really deserve to be in his presence, let alone touching him the way they were! If anyone should be allowed that, it was her!

He was unusually quiet. He generally would have greeted her, or made some gesture to acknowledge her presence. But now he simply stared ahead, his expression downcast.

She was about to speak when he did.

"You know… my father used to beat me up pretty bad."

She looked up, startled.

"R-really?"

He nodded thoughtfully.

"Any time I would get out of line…BAM!" And he punched the air to demonstrate. "Or sometimes, I'd just be sitting there, doing nothing at all… POW!" Again he punched the air.

She cringed, looking away.

"Pops tended to favor the grape, ya see." He said, contempt suddenly filling his voice.

"Uh-huh." She nodded.

"There was only one time I ever saw my Dad really happy. He took me to the circus when I was about seven, maybe eight years old. And I still remember this one clown… Crazy looking geek with checkered pants. He was running around the ring with this tiny little dog snapping at his heels. It was really driving the poor fool in to a frenzy. So every time," and he began to giggle. "Every time the geek stopped to kick the pup…"

He suddenly was free from his restraints, standing up from the couch, making a whooshing motion with his hands.

"Zwooop! He dropped his pants and fell on his butt!"

And he began to laugh uproariously.

"I remember starring up at the old man in total wonder. Gezz, I thought he'd bust a gut laughing!"

Harley smiled at how animated he was becoming.

"It was rare for him to smile even, let alone laugh! Seeing how happy he was, I decided I wanted to make him laugh too! Give him some of that same happiness!"

She nodded.

"So, the next night, when Dad staggered home from the bar…"

She was filled suddenly with anxiety.

"There I stood in the doorway, wearing his finest pair of Sunday slacks around my ankles."

And he dropped his pair of Arkham issued trousers, revealing his skinny legs.

"'Hi Dad!' I squeaked. 'Look at me!' And zwooop!" He made another whooshing motion. "I took a big pratfall and tore the crotch clean out of his pants!"

Harley began to laugh, so hard tears fell from her eyes, and he laughed with her, slapping his knee in amusement. They continued on like that for several seconds, and she failed to notice as his hilarity died down in to silence.

"…And then he broke my nose."

She was jarred from her hysterics.

"W-what?" She whispered.

He shrugged, lying back down on the couch.

"I still like to think he was aiming for my fanny and missed. At least, that's what I told myself… when I woke up in the hospital three days later."

"Three days?" She whispered, more to herself then to anyone else.

"But hey, that's the downside of comedy." He finished, his tone once again chipper. "You're always taking shots from folks who just don't get the joke. Like my Dad. Or Batman."

She just stared at him for a moment, her eyes filling with tears. This was the first time he'd really confided anything about his past to her. It must have taken so much courage. It was clear to her suddenly. All of his desire to show people the humor in life stemmed from his desire to make his father laugh. Of course! He was only a child, longing for acceptance, for someone to tell him he was good enough. Just like her! All his life, he'd felt the sting of rejection, of people writing him off and dismissing him as nothing, when he was more then they could ever hope to be! So of course he killed! What else did they expect?! They practically told him it was all he could do to garner their attention. It was their ignorance and their selfishness which drove him to it! And then they had the nerve to blame him?! She couldn't believe it! She felt so angry!

And again, for the second time, he had mentioned Batman. Did he correlate his experience with his father with that of his experiences with the vigilante? This was definitely something she was going to have to follow up on. She had to understand, if she were going to be of any use to him.

"Do you want to talk…" She paused, clearing her throat, trying to gain control of her emotions. "Do you want to talk more about… about Batman?" She asked, still unsure.

"Batman?" He questioned. "What exactly would you like to know about our sanctimonious friend?"

She bit down on her lip.

"Well, they…" She hesitated. "They say you're obsessed with him." She held her breath, afraid of his reaction.

"So I am!" He gestured excitedly, sitting up straight.

"You… you are?!" She stammered.

"But of course." He said, as though it should be obvious.

She stared at him, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"Do you… do you see any similarity between how you feel about him and how you feel about your… your father?" She dared to ask.

He laughed lightly.

"Yes dear, perhaps some. In the way he doesn't quite grasp the levity of life."

"Is that why you think you obsess over him then? Because he reminds you of your father?" She asked.

He grinned a boyish grin and then shook his head.

"Oh no Harlequin. Quite the opposite, in fact. It is because he reminds me of myself."

She looked startled, and then confused.

"…How?!"

"Oh, he and I are very much alike. In our differences our similarities lie. He would never admit to it, of course. His hate for me is ardent. It would never allow his mind to accept the correlation. But as I am so strongly committed to my convictions, he so is committed to his own, the only differential coming in those convictions being perfect opposites. It's somewhat as if we occupy the same niche, and as the laws of nature dictate, no two life forms can concurrently be allowed to occupy the same space. So we are forever entangled in this beautiful dance, destined to clash with one another for always. He is the straight man to my clown. You understand Harley?"

Of course she wouldn't understand. The sorry simpleton probably thought herself as equal to Batman himself.

"But don't you hate him?" She questioned. "Aren't you always trying to… to kill him?"

Again he laughed.

"I don't hate him, my darling. I admire his dedication. He truly believes in his principles, as misguided as they are, at least he truly believes. That is more then I can say for the vile that is the rest of human kind. He is the only person I have encountered, other then myself of course, who possesses the courage to really sacrifice for his tenets, who refuses, under any circumstance, to compromise those ideals. I desire only to show him the great joke that is life. But his delusion is egregious; so blinded is he by the fury of his self-righteous indignation for the injustice of the world, that he fails to grasp the absurdity of it all. He cannot find the humor. Everything is regarded with far too much solemnity when it comes to his point of view. I told him one time how certain I was that he had suffered some unspeakable trauma as a boy. It only makes sense. He experienced an irrecoverable loss, grew enraged at the cruelty of life, and reacted as a child would. By playing dress up and fighting against who he perceived to be that cruelties perpetrator! The tragedy for him is that, he will forever suffer, because he is battling against reality dear. One can never be truly happy if they oppose what simply is. He of course made certain to beat me unconscious for saying what I did." He laughed. "Which just further reinforced the validity of my suspicions." He paused, looking Harley squarely in the eye. "It's a bit like you, isn't it sweetheart?"

"Hmm, w-what?" She asked. She'd been so transfixed by what he was saying, the question had shook her out of her momentary trance.

"It's a bit like you, I said. You too are fighting against what is, and you're miserable for it."

"I… I'm not sure what you me…"

"You play the role of a professional." He cut her off. "A serious girl with a serious job, doing serious work. But the reality, Harley, the reality is, you're not that girl. No, you're something else entirely, aren't you? You and Batman darling, you both need to learn by my example. I am exquisitely happy. Simply because, I do not dispute it. I do not dispute what I am, or what life is, nor do I wish to. I accept it, with open arms. I embrace it, revel in it, thrive in it. That is what you need Harley. Stop pretending to be something you're not and welcome what you really are. A fun-loving, exuberant little girl, light of heart, and with an eye for adventure!"

She stared at him, open mouthed.

"How…" She muttered. "How is it you know so much?!"

"I simply do, my little Harlequin. You've allowed society to dictate to you what you should be, and for so long you've deprived yourself of any delight because of it. Even now, you're allowing them to control you, denying the feelings you have for fear of what they'll think."

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart rate suddenly increasing.

"W-what do you mean?" She stuttered.

"You know what I mean Harley." He said. "And despite what you've been told, there's nothing wrong about it. The world we live in dispirits us by forcing us to deny what we are. You can break away from all that. Don't be afraid. Don't fight what's in your heart beautiful."

She began to sob, almost uncontrollably.

"Harley?"

She looked up at him through blurred vision.

"It's alright." He said. "Come here."

She stared at him, feeling uncertain.

"Don't let them decide for you Harley. You want to come."

Without even really thinking, she stood from her seat and moved towards him. She felt as if she were floating, weightless. And very quickly, she was by his side, having taken the space he'd made for her, looking up in to his face. The vibrancy of his color seemed even deeper close up, and she felt as though she were looking in to a painting. He smiled at her, and very suddenly, she had an incredible desire to kiss him.

"I… I love you." She whispered.

"I know." He answered, running the back of his hand gently down her cheek. "It's okay."