"I got the results from our public records search.", Joan began. She sat down on a cushioned chair with an awful, faded floral print. Harley sat in a chair quite similar a few feet away. "There is no record of your marriage. Actually, I could not find any public records for a Jack Napier with the date of birth you gave us."

It had been three days since Harley was admitted to Arkham Asylum against her will. It was easy to get a petition for her stay based on her seeming psychotic delusions about her relationship with The Joker. Her mouth felt dry due to the Zyprexa she was prescribed. Harley knew that he would have deleted all of his public records by now and it certainly did not help her case.

"I'm truly sorry, Harley.", Joan said sympathetically.

Harley looked away, suddenly finding the empty wall interesting.

"I should have been more careful. I should have found someone with more experience to take his case. I feel completely at fault here." Joan could tell that this session was going to go much like the first one she had the day after Harley was admitted. Harley spoke minimally. At first she only requested that Joan look up hers and Jack's marriage license in the hopes that it would support her story. This time it appeared that Harley was uninterested in any dialogue. "How about we try this again tomorrow? I know it's been a hard couple of days for you and you've experienced quite a bit of trauma. I'm ready to talk when you are."

Harley chewed the inside of her lip. She spoke quietly. "Have you heard anything about him?"

Joan inhaled deeply. "No, I have not. No one has seen or heard from him since his escape. Harley, I think it is important to talk about your ideas of him, but I do not think it is good for us to talk about what he is doing currently. We need to move on from here. I have an idea, a homework assignment for you to work on tonight." Harley slowly raised her eyebrows in interest. Joan stood and walked to her desk where she dug through her drawer and pulled out a black and white composition notebook. She plucked a pen from a ceramic mug on her way back to her seat. "Here, take these.", she passed the new items to Harley who cautiously took them. "I want you to keep a diary. If you don't feel comfortable talking to me about what's going on in your head, try writing down your thoughts and we can review them during your sessions."

Harley squeezed the notebook between her hands. "Can I see my daughter? Lucy? I need to make sure she's okay."

"Lucy is fine. Bruce informed me that your friend Pam has been keeping her.", Joan assured.

"You know, Pam knows about The Joker and I too.", Harley replied in a last ditch effort to confirm her history. "She knew him long before…"

"According to Bruce, Pam did not have much to say about it. She is very concerned about you too, Harley. We all are."

The room Harley was placed in was down a quiet hall. She had a window that overlooked the courtyard behind Arkham Asylum. Currently it was foggy. It was usually foggy and dreary. She had a twin sized bed with a white quilt. There was a small red desk under the window with a chair. The walls were still made of cinderblock, but had been painted light blue at some point. This wing was not used very often and thus looked a bit nicer than the one with the more frequently used cells.

Harley had just returned from her session with Joan. She stood in the middle of her room wearing loose white pants with a drawstring and white top with white socks. She still clutched the notebook in her hands and she clicked her pen a few times before placing the items on her desk. She looked out her window and could see that it was recreation time for a group of inmates. They mostly stood around in the grass idly. There was not much for them to do out there.

How had she gotten to this point? She hadn't really had the mental power to process what was happening with her. She was more confused than anything. The Joker must have had a good reason to leave her behind. He said it wasn't the right time. But when would be the right time? How long would she be imprisoned in the asylum she was once a doctor in?

There was a knock on the door which startled her. "Harley? It's Bruce. Is it okay if I come in?", the muffled voice stated from the other side.

Harley's door was always locked. Joan had told her she would regain some privileges including the ability to come and go from her room soon after she had been thoroughly assessed and showed some signs of progress.

"Oh, um, sure. I'm not able to open the door, but-" Before she could finish there was a beep and the handle turned as the door opened. Bruce walked through looking as handsome as ever. He had obviously come from the office as he was wearing dress clothes - black pants, white shirt, black leather shoes. Black and white. Harley wondered if he ever wore sweatpants and what did he sleep in anyway? "Hi", she said suddenly feeling embarrassed. She wanted to crawl under the bed and hide herself forever.

Bruce gave a small smile. He assessed her, her room. He took a few steps forward and glanced out the window to the courtyard. He turned back to Harley who was crossing her arms sheepishly in front of herself. "I wanted to see how you were doing."

She wasn't sure how to respond to that because she really wasn't sure. She settled on, "I've been better."

"Can't fault you there.", he said with a little shrug. "I want you to know that you are safe here."

Harley gave a quick snort. It was the first smile she had given since he arrived. "Safe, huh? Safe from what?", she asked still smiling.

"Safe from him."

"The Joker can walk in and out of this place like it's nothing, Bruce. When he's ready for me, he's gonna come get me." Her smile faded and she looked serious now.

"Not if I can help it.", Bruce replied as he looked away back toward the window.

"Why do you care so much, Bruce? None of this is any of your business. Don't you have enough on your plate?", she asked as she threw her hands up before her palms slapped against the sides of her thighs.

Bruce breathed out through his nose before responding. "I hate to see him win. He doesn't deserve to get what he wants, Harley. He doesn't deserve you. You are smart and beautiful. You're a good mother! You're thoughtful and strong. You intrigue me. I want to unravel your past. I want to know the real you. What's the reason behind your secrets and stories?"

"You'd never believe me.", she said quietly.

"I want to. Let me in."

"I don't think I can."

He walked toward her and gently placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "I want to help you."