Hello boys and girls. Here's the next part of the story. Though I'm still on vacation, I did promise to upload a new chapter. It's a departure from the main storyline, but I felt compelled to write this out. Please forgive me if it's not quite as proofed and refined as earlier chapters.
As always, if you enjoy, please leave me lots and lots of reviews.
Stories Told and Untold
By Liam
PART TWELVE: BACK TO THE ASYLUM
Perhaps trying to renew his personal relationship with Diana amidst a murder investigation was a bit…much. It was terribly distracting to what should have been his one and only priority- the solving of Celeste's murder
So what if Diana had a fairly active dating life? That she and King Faraday had a semi-serious on-again, off-again relationship? "We each get too wrapped up in work to be steady," she had explained. Or that she and Vigilante—VIGILANTE!—had dated for nearly a month? "He's an absolute gentleman and completely charming, but we just weren't right for each other." And those rumors People Magazine reported about her dating a star NFL quarterback? "It was fun while it lasted," she'd said with a whimsical smile.
Bruce leaned back in his chair, his feet propped upon the desk The one good thing about being the CEO of a multi-billion dollar industry and a notoriously air headed playboy? No one thought twice about him skipping an afternoon meeting to catch a nap. Too bad his mind was too restless to sleep.
Vigilante? Really? Bruce sighed. He supposed he couldn't question her taste in men too much. After all, a good portion of the women he'd dated were supervillains.
Of course, Bruce wasn't so emotionally or psychologically stunted that he didn't recognize the true reason why he was…distressed. It wasn't because she dated other men. Bruce was hardly so sanctimonious to care about a woman's dating history. Because, again, his track record was blemished like hell. No, what distressed Bruce was how she had seemingly so easily moved beyond him.
Bruised the ego, quite frankly.
Other than that, their lunch went exceptionally well. He almost forgot how pleasurable a meal with a beautiful, intelligent, charming woman could be. It had been so long since he'd dated anyone that wasn't for the sole purpose of keeping his playboy image in check. And while all of those women were exceptionally beautiful, they tended to lack in the other two areas. Alas, one out of three is a good average in baseball…
Unfortunately, however, they hadn't made firm arrangements to do it again. Expectations low, right? His right hand idly fingered his Justice League communicator. Was it too soon to call and ask her out again? Stupid dating decorum. He was sure he knew proper etiquette at one point.
And there was still the issue of Hippolyta to deal with…
The sound of his office phone startled Bruce from his musings. He blinked at the offending device. Only a handful of people possessed the number to his direct line at Wayne Enterprises. And most of them called for Batman, not Bruce.
He lifted the phone. "Hello?"
"Bruce? It's Jim."
Bruce stiffened. "Jim? What's wrong?"
"It's Harleen."
He arrived as Batman. Corridor A on the Minimum Security Wing was barricaded by GCPD SWAT and Arkham's own Critical Response Team. Commissioner Gordon and District Attorney Spencer were huddled around the nurses' station, eyes glued to the various security monitors.
"What's happened?" he barked.
Kate nearly jumped out of her skin, so surprised by his arrival. Gordon took a long drag off a cigarette. Undoubtedly one from his "emergency pack". Gordon claimed to have quit smoking a year earlier. If that were true, judging by how often Batman saw him smoke, then his emergency pack should have ran out six months ago.
"Jesus, how do you do that?" Kate shouted. Her own cigarette fell to the floor in her surprise. She claimed to have given up the habit months earlier, too.
Batman ignored her query and turned to Gordon. The commissioner didn't even look back, his eyes fixed to the monitor.
"Harleen had a meeting with Dr. MacGuire and her social worker. It didn't go well."
Batman stared blankly at the back of Gordon's head. He then looked to Kate, hoping for further explanation.
Kate sighed. "Her social worker broke the bad news. Despite the recommendations of you, Bruce Wayne, and me, the judge is severing her parental rights. Her son is eligible for adoption. There's a family in the Robinson Park district interested."
Kate started again. She had never heard Batman swear before.
"What are we looking at?" he asked.
Gordon pointed to a monitor. "Dr. MacGuire thought Harleen had shown enough progress. Thought she would take the bad news in stride. Thus why it was only her, Harleen, and the social worker in there. No security." Gordon grunted. "Won't be making that mistake again."
Batman eyed the monitor. It was the recreation room where only a few days earlier they had played chess. They were actually due for another game that night. An unconscious body lay in the floor, presumably that of the social worker. Dr. Holly MacGuire sat in a chair, trembling and terrified, Behind her, Harleen stood deathly still, an object in hand and pressed against MacGuire's neck.
"What is that?" Batman asked.
"A hypodermic syringe," Gordon said. "Filled with what, we don't know." He indicated an adjacent monitor, where a half dozen SWAT officers lurked by a door. "We've cleared the wing of all staff and patients. SWAT is ready to breach from the hallway, ventilation tubes, and the adjacent courtyard."
"In her condition, she'll kill MacGuire," Batman said.
"I know," Gordon nodded. He finally spared a look to Batman. "That's why I'm gonna let you try talking to her first." He looked up at the rumble of thunder echoing outside. "Sounds like it's really fixing to come down."
Batman nodded. "Doesn't it always?"
He took a few moments to analyze the situation, then leaned close to Kate. He whispered to her, careful to not let Gordon overhear.
"I trust you have your uniform on hand?"
Kate coughed loudly and stared. This was the first overt mention he'd ever made to knowing her secret identity. "I do."
"If this goes bad…it might be up to you to resolve it."
Her eyes widened. "Yes, sir."
Batman lingered a moment, as if he wanted to say more. Instead he merely turned away and disappeared down the hallway, intent on the rec room.
Once he was gone, Gordon turned to Kate and quietly spoke. "Why don't I tell everyone you have an emergency at the DA's office? You can go find a bathroom to, uh, change in."
Kate managed to utter, "Uh…"
Gordon smiled kindly. "I am a detective, you know. Some mysteries," he said, thrusting his chin after Batman, "might elude me, but others are within my grasp. Go. He might need backup."
Kate distinctly remembered a day when she was more eloquent. It was practically a requirement to being a lawyer. "Okie dokie," she said. "I'll just, uh, get changed." She grabbed her briefcase and discretely hurried to a ladies' room. "Damn it to hell, am I that bad at covering my identity?"
Harleen calmly lifted her head at the knock upon the rec room door. "Who is it?" she called out in a faux cheery manner, her voice laced with her thick Brooklyn accent.
"It's me," was the muffled, but distinct reply.
"Come on in, B-Man! Join the party!"
The door quietly swung open. The Batman loomed large. Behind him, lurking at each shoulder, were SWAT officers bearing machine guns. Red tracer lasers flashed and danced across Harleen's upper torso.
"What are you doing, Harleen?" he asked.
In that bubbly voice she said, "Please, call me Harley! Everyone does!" Then the smile disappeared and her voice dropped to a menacing octave. "Close the door, sugar. You're letting the flies in."
Batman stared a moment with those blank, white eyes. But he slid the door shut behind him.
Harleen didn't move, the syringe needle pressed into the neck of Dr. MacGuire. She merely watched as Batman slowly walked to the slumped body on the floor. With a heavy sigh, he crouched to a knee. He pressed a button on his left gauntlet and the lenses of his cowl turned red. After a moment of studying the body, the lenses returned to white.
"Thank you for not killing her."
Harley shrugged. "The night is still young."
"I heard what happened, Harleen. Please, let's sit down and talk about this."
"What is there to talk about, B-Man? The bitch on the floor said they're taking my baby away from me." For just an instance, her voice cracked with emotion. "They're taking my…my Tim away."
Tim. She'd named her son Tim. The name of his fallen, broken Robin. A gesture meant to deliver a measure of atonement for her terrible sin, she had said when questioned upon it.
"I have demands," she said.
After a pause, Batman replied, "I know what it is you want, Harleen. I won't give it to you."
Harley pursed her lips. "Then it seems we ain't got nothing to talk about."
In a flash, the syringe that had been in MacGuire's neck was flying at his head. Batman ducked to the right. An instant later, a fist came crashing down into his cheek.
Never let it be said that Harley Quinn doesn't pack a mean right hook.
Batman lashed out with his left hand, several small capsules spewing forth. They impacted against Harley's chest, exploding in a cloud of yellow dust.
"Eww! Rotten eggs!" she bellowed. "Low blow, B-Man!"
Batman rolled away, crouching on his knees, buying a moment to regroup. "MacGuire! Go!"
The doctor didn't need to be told twice. She bolted for the door. Soon as it opened, one SWAT officer gathered her in his arms and two others stepped forward, guns at the ready.
Batman drew his grapple and fired, the hook catching at Harley's pant leg. With a sharp tug, he yanked her to the ground, just beneath the flurry of bullets meant for her heart. With a quick move to his utility belt, he produced a couple more pellets and slung them at the feet of the SWAT.
The pellets exploded in a freezing blast, an ice slick instantly appearing on the floor. The officers in front lost their footing and hit the ground. Those behind were momentarily distracted by their fallen comrades.
"Gordon!" Batman screamed. "Call them off!"
The second wave of SWAT officers took a step forward, guns at the ready. But then they paused. Batman knew that Gordon was screaming in their ears. Sure enough, they helped their fallen comrades and began to retreat.
So fixated on them, Batman didn't see the fist flying at him. Harley Quinn really possessed a mean right hook.
She followed up with an equally vicious left before he could reply with a punch to her gut. But even then, Harley rolled to the side, his fist doing little damage.
"You son of a bitch!" she screamed, punctuating each word with a fist. "I trusted you! Put my faith in you! And you failed me!"
"Harleen…" he tried to say. But another shot across the jaw silenced him. Blood poured from a split lip and his nose.
Harley grabbed him by the throat and pulled him to his feet. "I need this! Don't you understand? I need this!" She slung Batman around, upon the very table where they played chess. With his back flat against the table, Harley leapt upon him, straddling him.
"Harleen…" he tried again.
With a growl, she wrapped a fist around each pointed ear of his cowl and violently slammed his head down. "My name is Harley!"
Stars exploded in his eyes. It couldn't be said enough just what a wallop she carried.
"Your name," he gasped, "is Harleen Quinzel." Then, softer, tortured, he whispered, "And you're the best friend I have."
Harley paused in her assault, her eyes wide at his revelation. For a brief moment, it was Harleen that flickered in those blue orbs. And if slamming his skull violently into a table was her being relatively calm, the emotional dam then broke. Her gaze hardened and she began to wildly throw punches.
"Don't say that!" she screamed. "If you were my friend, you'd do this for me!"
Batman tried his best to block the blows. "I am your friend, Harleen. That's why I'll never do it."
"Dammit! Fight me!"
Harley dismounted and again wrenched Batman to his feet. He didn't try to resist, nor made any effort to fight back. This infuriated her further. She dragged him across the room and slung him through the doors opening into the courtyard.
Batman slammed against the concrete patio and rolled. He struggled to his hands and knees and spat a mouthful of blood onto the rain soaked concrete. He took a deep, ragged breath—and then Harley's foot found his gut. With a sharp cry, he flipped to his back. The hard rain fall pelted his face, blurring his vision. But about twenty yards away he saw a red and silver leather clad figure out of the corner of his eye.
"Manhunter! Stand down!"
Manhunter had her power staff raised to her shoulder, like a rifle, the tip aimed at Harley. Her gaze never wavered from Harley, but with a sharp click, the staff retracted.
Batman groaned. Harley stood before him, her blue flannel uniform drenched, blonde soaked pigtails hanging limply over each shoulder. Her eyes were fixed on the concrete, the spot where he coughed up blood, deep red washing away. Her lip quivered. She was on the verge of tears.
"Batman….please…" she whimpered.
"I can't," he coughed. "I won't."
She fell to her knees. "Please…kill me."
With a deep, pained groaned, he rose into a sitting position. "No."
"My son," she cried. "He was my hope. If I could raise him…make him a good person…maybe I could be forgiven." Her pleading eyes locked onto his white lenses. "Maybe you would forgive me."
"Harleen…I already have."
Harleen broke down. "No…no!" She knelt forward, burying her face in her hands. A few moments later, the rain stopped. Looking up, she found Batman looming above, his cape swept open like an umbrella.
"Do you trust me?"
Like a broken little girl, she merely nodded.
"Then please…trust me."
Batman knelt beside her and pulled Harleen into his arms, protecting her in the relative warmth and dryness of his cape as she continued to cry.
END PART
Okay, like I said, it was a deviation from the story. But I rather enjoyed it. I also felt I needed to revisit Harleen. As always, gimme your reviews.