Harley's pulse was in her throat and her hands were numb. As if adrenaline was collecting in her centre and waiting to be summoned.
She checked her watch and tried to look natural. She was well aware that cameras covered every inch of these corridors. It may have been overkill but she also pretended to check the chart in her hand, consulting her watch again and tapping the paper before setting off in what she hoped was a decisive manner.
Joker had been her main patient since arriving in Arkham but Jeremiah had insisted she take on some smaller side cases, with far less interesting patients. All it had taken was some well placed hallucinogenics in food to get her called in on her evening off. Harley had made another show of arriving in the dress she'd worn for dinner, a red number entirely inappropriate for work, throwing a white coat over the top of it. But it was hardly her fault - after all she 'hadn't expected to have to come in.' Joker had been eating in the cafeteria - or more specifically, playing with his food - when he'd spotted her. He sat up a little straighter at the sight of her dress and Harley pressed her thighs together hard.
On Frost's advice, she'd gone one step further and actually gone out for dinner with Hamia and tried to pay attention to what her friend said. It wasn't easy when she was on the precipice of making the worst decision ever. Her role was startlingly simple as it turned out but it could only be done by her. There was about a minute when the security guards switched shifts when they were all in the same room. They did a brief handover to the next shift and then they returned to the floor. Harley had to text a number to let Frost know that they were inside. That was it. She had a burner phone to send the message and then she was to go to her office, barricade herself in and wait.
Easy, Harley tried to convince herself while ignoring the bump of the phone against her hip as it rested in her coat pocket.
"Don't throw it out at Arkham," Frost had reiterated to her half a dozen times. "They'll get a match off your fingerprints."
"I know," Harley said, too agitated to hear Frost lecture her again but her sharpness didn't deter him from finishing his spiel.
"Turn it off after the message is sent and then fling it into the water the first chance you get. Preferably at night."
Harley wondered if Frost repeating himself ad nauseam was a subtle tell that he was nervous but quickly came to realise that Frost didn't get nervous. Instead he knew from experience that if shit hit the fan, the only thing that would keep her on task was if it had been drilled into her brain so many times that she'd dreamt about throwing phones in rivers.
He was also insistent that beyond a text they didn't need anything from her and that she should lock herself away from the action.
She didn't like being excluded from the action but she was still a realist. Despite Frost's careful planning, he was going in with an army of lunatics and Gotham PD were hardly going to let Joker escape again without a fight. Both of them avoided saying the B word but it was the elephant in the room. He was just as likely to appear as the police.
Harley stiffened when one of the guards rounded the corner followed closely by his partner. They smiled politely at her and didn't do a double take at her outfit.
"Good evening, Doctor. Didn't see you on the roster."
Harley smiled, ignoring the tensing muscles in her cheek. "Medical emergency, unfortunately." She smoothed a hand over the dress.
"That's a shame. Hope it's all ok now."
She nodded. "It'll be fine, I'm just going to stay for a few more hours to make sure it's all settled down."
"We'll let the shift change know you're on duty."
"Thanks. I appreciate that."
They walked past her and she stayed where she was. She didn't know either of their names. It struck her as something she should know. Harley heard the sound of pass cards swiping and then a low hum of voices before the door shut behind them.
She stayed in place for a few seconds more but no one else joined them. She hoped that was all the guards in Arkham, and if not, well Frost and his men could handle one or two extras. Harley got a few paces away and pulled out the phone, making sure her back was to the camera in the corridor and her movements were subtle.
Her fingers shook some as she tapped out a single word. Now.
Almost the instant she pressed send she heard a whine as power was cut and the back up generator spurred into action. The light had an unsettling greenish tinge. Harley started in the direction of her office, wishing she'd worn lower heels. As she walked the security cameras' red lights blinked off and they lowered so they were facing the ground. She picked up her speed. She'd shove the desk behind the door and she'd be safe until the police came. And Joker would be long gone.
Harley was less sure how he was going to get in touch with her after he escaped but he still had the burner phone she'd slipped him. She briefly considered not trying to contact him once he was safe but she had a feeling it wasn't up to her. Her doorman was still one of his henchmen. Also he'd made her some promises the other night that she was desperately hoping he'd keep.
The first screams she heard sent a chill down her spine. Worse, she didn't know if they were the screams of victims or the screams of the invaders. Remembering she hadn't turned off the phone as instructed, she fumbled with the power button. Her palms were hot and sweaty, Frost's words on repeat in her mind.
Harley was sick to her stomach now and as much as she tried to convince herself it was the adrenaline, she knew it had more to do with regret. Since the Joker had entered her life she hadn't been sure of much but in this second, she was certain she'd made a mistake. People were going to die because of this choice.
She swallowed thickly and pushed the feeling down; people were going to die but it wasn't going to be her. Mistake or not, she wasn't overly interested in suffering the consequences herself. She picked up her feet and hurried toward her office. She wasn't afraid when the door wouldn't open. At least not at first. She tried swiping her pass a number of times with shaking hands whispering, "come on, come on, come on," like a prayer.
When it still didn't open, she swore loudly and put her shoulder into it. The emergency lights hummed in a way the normal lights didn't and beyond that she could hear the beginnings of a fight. Arkham's second escape attempt in recent memory. By now, the police would be on their way to intervene, even if all the guards had already been disposed of. Someone would have activated the alarm and called for help, whether it was a staff member or a patient lucid enough to realise this wasn't going to end well for anyone not on team Joker. He'd proved plenty of times in the past that he didn't mind collateral damage.
Harley kicked the door sharply, black anger edging around the fear. It was possible the power cut had impacted her door too, but she had a bad feeling this was no accident. Sucking in a few deep breathes, she pressed her fingers against the wall and got out of her heels. Then she pulled off the coat and tossed it to the ground, the burner phone tucked into her bra and held by the tightness of the dress. It wasn't an ideal outfit to run or fight in but she'd done what she could to become more mobile. She needed a new plan, some way to get outside or a better place to hide. Not for a second did she consider trying to find him in this chaos. She massaged her temples and forced herself to think. Her skin was sweaty, the aircon not supported by the back up generator.
Struck with an idea she looked up. The vents! If she could just get inside she could hide until the Joker was gone and the police got control. She tugged the dress higher on her thighs so she could get a run up. Taking another deep breath, the first steady one of the night and sprinted towards her goal. She took a flying leap through the air but her fingers only brushed hard against the grating, breaking a nail and not budging it an inch.
Harley narrowed her eyes and reframed the problem. She was strong and fast from her training but she wasn't going to get the height and leverage to push the grate free to swing up. She needed access to a chair. She cut her gaze from one direction to another, her fingertips tingling. There were a number of offices close by that had vents, chairs and desks-everything she needed. But it would slow her down to try every door if they were similarly afflicted. The cafeteria didn't have doors that locked but that was further away, closer to the ruckus.
Though it wasn't close to the patients rooms or the treatment rooms and that would be the target tonight. Sure, they might come back that way to get out but Frost also might be planning on blowing a hole in the side of the wall.
Harley absently ghosted a finger across her scars. She didn't want to stay still and wait. Maybe she'd be able to talk Joker down but was she willing to bet her life on it? Funny, she'd been willing to risk her life on her intelligence and skills before, but her instincts were screaming at her to get out of there. Making up her mind, she took a few more deep breaths, drawing the air into her stomach like Hamia had taught her to do before sparring. She wondered what her friend was doing now? Had she gone home or stayed out for a few drinks by herself?
Harley started walking briskly, hugging the line of the wall. She kept her ears pricked for sounds nearby but so far the distant hum of chaos seemed to be happening far away from her. The closer she got to the cafeteria, the closer she would be to the chaos but hopefully she'd stay at at safe distance. And despite her fear and her sickening apprehension, a part of her was hoping for success. That Joker was only minutes away from freedom.
She could hear the howls from distressed patients now and the sound was terrible, but in some ways reassuring. It meant they were alive, cloistered away in their own rooms posing no obstacle to the planned escape which meant they'd be left alone. Not exactly known for her selfless nature, Harley still didn't want their blood on her hands.
A loud boom rang out close enough that Harley lost her feet and grabbed at the wall to steady herself. Making a calculated risk, Harley forgo hugging the wall to get some speed, running as fast as she could for the cafe now. She flew past a corridor and out of the corner of her eyes, she saw figures and movement but she didn't stop to see who it was. She rounded the corner, feet skidding in her haste. They'd clearly come through here, tables that had been bolted to the ground had been tipped over. Chairs and trays were scattered over the floor.
Harley took a second to assess the situation, cataloging it for escape and for defence. An upright table sat neatly below one of the grates and Harley scrambled on top of it, dress catching around her knees.
"Hey, you!"
A voice shouted behind her; maybe a guard, maybe an intruder. She didn't turn around to see, focused on pushing the grate out, rising to her tip toes and straining muscles in her neck and shoulders to shove it aside quickly.
"Boss said we couldn't let anyone leave."
Well, that settled that. Harley chanced a quick glance at the voice and saw it was owned by a man in a Zebra mask. Zebra was flanked by a lion and a clown. All three of them carried guns that would put a hole right through her middle but whatever Joker's instructions were they hadn't been told to shoot her.
Not willing to test that theory by waiting around, Harley jumped and grabbed the inside of the vent and started to lift herself up. Between the gymnastic practice and the adrenaline, she managed to heave her chest and stomach into the vent with little effort. Her skin prickled as she waited for the gun shot that would end it but even though she was so scared her ears were ringing, she didn't let herself stop moving. She would be fucked if a man was going to be responsible for her demise.
She was so braced for the bullet, that Harley screamed when a hand closed around her ankle. It choked off in her throat as they yanked her backwards. Her hands raked frantically inside the vent but there was nothing to hold on to. As a last ditch effort, her fingertips caught on the edge of the hole and held. She surprised them with her strength and one of them grunted. Her victory was short lived though when a second set of hands grabbed at her legs and pulled.
She landed hard, one arm caught underneath her as she slammed into the table below her. Harley managed to keep her head from smacking down but her chest and belly had nothing to cushion the fall. The wind was driven from her in an audible 'ofph' and the momentum bounced her from the table on to the ground. Harley lay there, blinking automatic tears out of her eyes and desperately trying to suck oxygen back into her lungs. She knew from her time at school that if she just relaxed, then her breath would return but her heart pounded as the fear amplified. A tray was on the ground next to her and she tentatively tried to reach it, wheezing all the while.
Lion kicked it out of her reach. Harley just let her hand drop. It wouldn't have done any good anyway. Maybe if she'd been on her feet and had her head straight she might have been able to defend herself with everything she'd learned from Hamia but it was all she could do not to throw up on their shoes, and she didn't think that would be enough for them to let her go.
Zebra and Lion got arms under her and hauled her up. Harley batted them away ineffectually, but nothing she did prevented her from being slung over Lion's shoulder. The world spun and the pressure of his shoulder into her stomach made her want to vomit all over again. She tried to order her thoughts as they strode out of the cafeteria. If they didn't know who she was then her best shot of survival was suddenly Joker again. Not to say he wouldn't hurt her either but he'd want to play with her first.
She kept her lips sealed and her eyes shut as they carried her. She wanted to know where they were taking her but the dark was helping her breathe and helping the headache. With almost every step they took, she could feel her normal self fading and the doctor rising. He's just a man she reminded herself, even if she didn't quite believe it. Something twinged in her stomach at the thought of seeing Joker that had nothing to do with nausea. He affected her. He'd infected her.
Harley was tossed unceremonious onto a medical bed and was strapped in. The people around her weren't speaking but were buzzing with an unspoken intensity. Insanity in it's wildest form. She scanned the room for anything familiar but they were all wearing masks. When they tightened a strap over her forehead, she fought to keep the panic off her face.
She swallowed twice before she could speak. "Where is he?"
No one answered but they didn't have to. A unforgettable, electric laugh echoed through the room. Harley froze, the twinge in her stomach shifted lower, turning into something warmer. His silver shark grin filled the room, fixed on her.
He'd changed at some point, losing the patient scrubs for black pants and no shirt. His tattoos contrasted sharply with his pale skin.
Despite her precarious situation, Harley rolled her eyes. "You always were dramatic," she said evenly, drawing on a bravado that ran deep.
He laughed again, sharp as a razor, before looming over her. He tilted his head and looked at her like she was a science project.
"Hi Doc." He waggled his fingers in a little wave, his eyes were icy and blank.
"Are you going to kill me Mr J?" Harley asked, some of her fear creeping into her tonne.
He didn't answer at first but reached for two paddles. Harley inhaled sharply. She knew exactly what they were.
Joker saw her fear and his smile widened into something animal. Whatever connection she thought they had built, vanished like smoke. He would plunge a knife right into her heart if that would get his rocks off.
"No. I'm just going to hurt you. Really, really, bad."
With no hesitation, the panels connected with her skin and Harley lost the ability to think or function. There was only space for pain, a searing heat that picked apart her skin, nerves and bones.
The shock was brief but the damage was immediate. She was near unconscious, unable to move or speak. But she felt his finger brush her cheek, as gentle as a lovers caress.
"Dammit Joker, we cut your live stream, you're not making a point by torturing her."
Joker grinned brightly at her, before looking over his shoulder. Harley couldn't turn her head enough to see where his gaze went. "There's only one person I want to see this, Commissioner, and I guarantee he's watching."
"If you think he's coming then let the Doctor go. She'll just get in the way."
Harley recognized the voice. Gordon. And he sounded angrier than she'd ever heard him though he was doing a pretty good job of keeping that under wraps. She managed to tilt her head with agony. Joker was talking to a mobile held by one of his masked henchmen, too short to be Frost, though Harley didn't think he would intervene on her behalf. Frost hadn't got this far working as Joker's right hand man without being made of stone.
"Oh I don't know, I think she likes being in the middle of all the action," Joker countered with a shrug. He looked at her again and seemed delighted to find her staring back at him. She still didn't have much control over her body or her expression but she hoped it conveyed how much she wanted to slit his throat. His sharp exhale said he understood. Not that he was unsettled, the sick bastard got off on her wish for violence. All of these things she knew about him.
"How you doing Princess?" he sing-songed for the audience. "You need anything?"
She locked eyes with him and rasped one word that she knew would infuriate him more than anything. "Jonathon."
His eyes darkened immediately and she chuckled silently, rolling her head to stare at the ceiling with a hiss. Maybe he thought of her as nothing more than a toy but she was his toy. Jealously was such an ugly emotion and it made even the most remote men stupid. He was in her face suddenly, fingers digging into her arm. Harley didn't flinch.
"Don't make me hurt you again, Harls," he snarled into her ear, maybe too low for the camera to hear. This was for her, not part of his performance.
"You and every other man," Harley murmured, smiling dreamily. She shifted her arm deliberately, despite his painful grip on her so that her scars were more visible. Joker's eyes were drawn to them automatically. In some ways they marked her as a victim but in another way they marked her independence from him. His grip shifted so his fingers were covering her scars, his eyes frightening. Harley tilted her chin slightly and dared him to kiss her. Wanted him to even, to drive back the pain he had caused.
For a brief moment, she thought he would do it but he pulled back.
"Be ready to bring her with us," he commanded, voice flat.
"Boss…" A caution. So Frost was in the room.
"Be ready," he barked now, loud enough that Gordon would hear even if he didn't understand.
Harley was willing to take this small victory, but she knew she wasn't out of the woods yet. They were all still stuck in Arkham and one way or another, Joker was going to escape these walls tonight.
A man wearing a dog mask bent over her and started to undo the straps. His height and broad shoulders made Harley pretty certain it was Frost. If that hadn't given it away, then his deft fingers would have betrayed a calm and control that no one else in this room had, including herself.
"Did you know?" Harley let some of the act drop and the words came out slurred. She hoped he understood her question properly. Did you know he'd do this to me?
"I knew it was possible," he replied quietly. "Didn't you?"
Before she had a chance to reply, he hefted her up into his arms. Pressed into Frost's chest, she could feel his heart beat against her cheek. It was even and regulated, and Harley realised Frost was just as fucked up as her and Joker, in his own unique way. Maybe he was so dead inside, he had to balance it out with the mania of the Joker.
Joker seemed to be oblivious to her existence again, pacing in anticipation. As intrigued as he was with her, Harley suspected he didn't obsess about her the way he obsessed about Batman. Tonight she was a side character and Joker was waiting for his co-star to show up for tonight's entertainment. Her vision blurred and she wanted nothing more to give in to the darkness edging in on the sides. Being unconscious would be a blessed relief and would hide the needling itch in her chest. Maybe she was as jealous of Batman as Joker was of Graham?
Abruptly, Joker held his arms out like silencing an orchestra. "Whose that knock-knock-knocking on my door?" he crooned.
Harley couldn't hear anything but Joker was tuned into something most normal people couldn't hear. An explosion of light bloomed in front of her, coupled with a frightening boom. Her body tensed, irrationally preparing to be electrocuted again. She turned her face into Frost like he could protect her, while chaos erupted around her. She heard screams, frenzied laughter and the spray of gunfire.
Frost didn't hesitate. With his hands full, he was no good in a fight and Joker had made his orders perfectly clear. When he got home, wherever the fuck home was, he expected Harley to be there alive. Frost moved quickly and with a precision that suggested military training. Harley had never felt so helpless or vulnerable; she had always been able to fall back on her mind as her greatest weapon. But after being shocked it was all she could do to stay conscious and aware of the situation.
In all the violent disorder behind her, she locked eyes with Joker. He blew her a kiss across the room with perverse tenderness.
