Notes: This is a AU Joker/Harleen in The Joker (2019) universe where Arthur Fleck is Joker. This chapter is to set up the story before they meet one another. Please read and review!

HARLEY

Harleen "Harley" Quinzel was exhausted. Every day ended with her feeling like she'd gone through the wringer. She kept herself afloat through multiple jobs to have enough money to pay for rent and save enough to hopefully one day go to cosmetology school.

A Gotham transplant, she grew to love the city of Gotham. Any place was better than the hell of her hometown, Wilmington, a small farming town three hours away.

Before moving to Gotham, Harley thought she would live and die in Wilmington. She lived with her mother, father, and older brother on a small farm, surrounded by other small family-owned farms which had been passed down for generations.

Things were quiet and quaint until the privatization of the waterways. This impacted the town, causing a rise in corporate farming conglomerates to buy out struggling family-owned farms until there were hardly any farmlands that weren't owned by a billion-dollar company.

Money spoke volumes, and many struggling families like her own sold their acres of land for half its worth and started working for corporate-owned farms. Harley's father and brother worked as farmhands, running the big machines that would till the soil and gather the fruit and vegetables. Harley was determined to not work on the farm and studied her ass off to find a restaurant job with health insurance and finish her schooling.

Harley did her best to make money where she could while finishing graduating from high school and then community college to get her associate's degree, grateful that somehow there was some type of financial aid she could tap into as long as she kept her grades, although that didn't last long.

Wilmington, over several years, became ravaged by the conglomerate farms until the soil had been so tilled that growing the mass number of vegetation became difficult. A wildfire impacting the waterways and setting fire to several farmlands didn't help. Within six years, the corporate farms had to slow down their operations, and move elsewhere, which caused a significant reduction in jobs.

Many people in Wilmington were left jobless, farm-less; many tried to escape, although they struggled to find a place they could afford. Many also saw increased violence and drug and alcohol use, which was something Harley's father and brother fell into.

For a few years, Harley struggled to keep the family intact. She sacrificed her college degree to work any job that would hire her. She did what she could, from a waitress to a hairdresser's assistant to a nanny, although it wasn't enough. It came to the point that her brother and father fell into a state of milieu; on most days, they both left to try to find jobs–although she doubted that they'd find it at a bar–did any odd job, only to return home drunk and the money they had wasted.

Harley's mother didn't help the situation as she was far too long gone. Her depth of disappointment and depression was so deep that she often stayed in the living room, watching television. And in the times when she "saw the light," she spent in prayer or attending the nearby Christian church, praying that God would somehow take care of them and save them from this hell.

The drinking continued until the house didn't feel safe anymore. She witnessed the violent side of her father when he begged him to stop drinking to help take care of her mother and brother. She also saw her brother slowly wasting away, as somehow, she knew he was doing more than alcohol, and he was doing drugs as well. She also witnessed her mother's delusion increase as she prayed and hoped everything would be okay. However, Harley knew damn well it wasn't going to be.

It was to the point that Harley would instead work as many jobs and as many hours to avoid having to return home to her broken family. She only stayed until she saved enough money to leave Wilmington and have enough to get on her feet. She thought that if her friend, Alexa, with her 2-year-old son, could escape to a big city like Gotham, so could she. She needed to get out of there, away from the suffocating depression and nothingness, because if she didn't, she would fade, die along with the town, and be swallowed whole.

One night after returning from a late-night job at the diner, Harley found her room ransacked. To her horror, one of the hidden containers she hid under her bed with her cash was empty. Her brother had stolen her money and even dared to inform the family that Harley was selfish, hiding what money she made from the rest of the family. And that was the sign she needed, the push necessary for her to pack what little items she had and leave.

Harley was grateful that she had kept a good chunk of her money in the bank, away from her family. She was also thankful that she remained close to a childhood friend, Alexa, who she called as she found herself on a one-way ticket trip to Gotham.

As Harley saw the dreadful small town pass until it was in the rearview of the bus, she sighed and finally allowed herself to let go of all the emotion, stress, and sadness she had kept in her body for so long. She didn't care if any of the other passengers of the bus saw her, as she was in the far back.

She cried until the bus stopped two hours later at a rest stop and took the time to find the nearest payphone to call her friend. She used her change and dialed her friend's number, taking a breath and praying that her friend would answer. She hoped she did and that somehow she'd give her hope.

The phone is picked up, and a cheerful voice greets her. "This is Alexa. May I ask who's speaking?"

And it was at that moment that Harley found herself crying again.

"Harley? Is that you, sweetie?"

Harley wiped her tears away with the back of her hoodie, took a deep breath, and found her voice.

"Yeah," she said, between hiccups. "I did it, Alexa. I left that place."

There was a pause on the other line, and then Alexa let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh god, Harley, are you okay?"

"I… I'm on a bus to Gotham, and I… I'm so sorry, Alexa. Is there any way that I can stay–"

"Yes!" Her friend cut her off. "I'm here for you, and yes, Harley, you can stay with Johnny and me. I can pick you up when you get here."

Harley found the tears falling again; this time, it was with gratitude. "Alexa, thank you."

"You have a place here, Harley," Alexa said, "And I'm glad as hell that you left that damn hellhole."

When Harley arrived at the Gotham Metro Station, she was amazed at the difference the city environment was from the small town she came from. She was greeted by a tall blonde-haired woman with her two-year-old son in her arms as she stepped out of the bus with her one backpack filled with clothes and what little valuables she had.

"Harley! You made it!"

Alexa greeted and drew her in a hug, along with her son, Johnny, who hugged her. Everything seemed like a blur when she arrived and settled into Alexa's quaint apartment.

Harley recalled hugging her friend fiercely as she broke down, shared her story, and vowed never to return to Wilmington and her family there. Her friend of so many years, whom she had helped in the past, who left the very same town and away from an abusive ex, listened to her speak. Years of bottled-up emotion were released until Harley was physically and mentally exhausted. They chatted until Harley found herself passed out on the couch and her friend throwing a warm blanket over her body, grateful that her friend was there and that, for the first time, she could be the one helping her instead of the other way around.

Several weeks passed, and Harley settled into her new life. Alexa allowed Harley to stay in her apartment, giving her the second bedroom that was her son's to her friend and letting her son sleep in her room with her. It wasn't much, but having a bed of her own and a place to have privacy as she tried to get herself together was something Harley appreciated.

Alexa did her best to help Harley get settled, even calling her a late-night job as a busgirl and janitor at Marco's, a bar and sometimes comedy club. It was enough to help Harley pay Alexa to pay for half the rent and food. In addition, Harley got herself two more additional jobs several weeks after that allowed her flexibility, one as a barista in the mornings. The third job took more time to start up and involved doing women's and men's hair, a skill she built while in Wilmington and will have little money to do her own or her family's. She wasn't licensed–a goal she was determined to work towards–but with the help of Alexa, she was able to slowly make a name for herself as an affordable hairdresser in their apartment building.

It all consisted of much hard work, but Harley stuck to it. She wasn't afraid of working her ass off, as long as it meant she didn't have to return to her life in Wilmington. Anything was better than the family and life she left there. She needed time to build her life, a life worth living, that one day wouldn't rely on anyone else but herself.

Harley promised herself that in a few years, she would have enough money to get her own place and one day get her cosmetology license to work in one of the salons, hopefully somewhere downtown. It was a passion of hers, a dream that she was never allowed to fully realize until now, and a goal was what made her struggles more bearable.

Harley let her friend, Alexa, hear her plans. She made it clear that she would contribute half of the rent, food, electricity, and gas, regardless of how much Alexa was against it.

"I still owe you for the money you gave me when Johnny and I left Wilmington, Harley," Alexa told her, crossing her arms with a frown.

"You don't owe me that. It was my gift to you to get away from that asshole," Alexa said. "And we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. So I'm going to do my part, and I promise, I'll pay my way here."

"You're stubborn, sweetie."

"I don't want to be a burden. I know how hard it can be for you. You didn't have to let me stay here, but you did."

"The only way we can survive is by helping one another, Harley." Her friend reminded her, "You're not alone."

Harley took the help, accepted Alexa's kindness, and told herself it was the step she needed to get back on her feet and fulfill her dream. While she lost her blood family by choice, she had Alexa and Johnny at least. She was determined to build a life for herself in Gotham and only look forward and not back behind her to the hurtful past she left behind.

ARTHUR

The day Arthur's mother, Penny Fleck, died was the day catastrophic change shook the stability of his life. His only family was gone, and for the first time, he had no one else to take care of but himself. And it was also the day he finally felt free.

Freedom came with hardships. There was no time to be consumed by loneliness when the priority became having a warm place to stay and food to eat.

The government stipend Arthur and his mother received for her disability and him as her caretaker halted with her death. The only source of meager income from Haha's Entertainment wasn't enough to keep the two-bedroom apartment, even though Arthur took as many gigs as he could.

A visit from the landlord sharing his condolences, then handing him a rent-increase notice with the updated rental terms made the message loud and clear. Arthur had to find a new place to live by the end of the month. It was the final step for him to shed his old life and build one independently of his own, and he was determined to do it.

Arthur sold almost everything they owned and skipped meals to save money for a down payment for a new place to live. His new "home" was a 185-square-foot micro-studio with a communal kitchen and bathroom. It was on the 10th floor of the same apartment building, with enough room for a twin bed, a tiny dresser, and a small telephone. It was all he could afford, giving him the privacy, comfort, and quiet to think and write.

He was prepared to live there for as long as he could until he found his footing; until one day, a letter from a life insurance company changed this. While checking his mailbox, he got a letter about a life insurance payout and a check made payable to him as the sole beneficiary.

"Is this joke?" – the question ran through his mind, as he was sure they could not afford life insurance when his mother was alive. They had barely had enough money combined to pay rent, bills, and medical needs. He was sure the insurance company erroneously paid the wrong person.

"This is a mistake." Arthur placed the letter and check back in its envelope and set it on the top of his dresser, where it remained untouched. He made plans to call the insurance company; however, long hours of work and bouts of melancholy caused him to forget about it.

A few weeks passed, and he received another letter urging him to call the insurance company, followed by a phone call one afternoon, which Arthur picked up. The company called to encourage him to cash the check and to ensure any questions he had would be answered.

"There must be a mistake," Arthur said to them, "My mother never told me about this policy. We didn't have money for it, or I would recall writing a check to pay it."

"Mr. Fleck, the insurance was not paid for by your mother. It was paid by another individual, who wishes to remain anonymous."

"Anonymous? There's only been my mother and me. Could they have made a mistake?"

"This individual made an agreement with your mother that they would pay for her life insurance policy. They've been doing so for the past three years, Mr. Fleck. It is positive, as this can hopefully help you during this hard time."

"There must be a mistake. Can you call this person and tell them?"

"Sir, I promise you there is no mistake here. This payout has already been processed, and we're waiting for your confirmed receipt to close your case. We noticed that the check had not been cashed and worried that perhaps you had not gotten it. It appears you have, so it'd benefit you to deposit or cash the check."

"And if I don't?"

"Mr. Fleck, the check is valid, and the money belongs to you as the beneficiary. Per the policy, which we have also sent as part of the initial letter with the check, it is yours and cannot be taken back." The representative explained the insurance policy and the terms in the letter with the check.

Arthur hung up the phone an hour later and found himself sitting on his bed. He took a deep breath and felt tears falling from his eyes.

It wasn't a dream. The check was undoubtedly for him and that there was someone that his mother knew who cared enough to help them. He wondered if it could have been the man his mother wrote letters to that worked in Wayne Industries. She must have had reasons to hide this from him, which remained unknown. His mother had her share of mysteries, too many for him to dive into.

All he knew was that someone up there–maybe God–might indeed exist and was looking out for me. Or perhaps it was just pure happenstance and luck. Whatever it was, he was grateful.

The insurance check infused life and brightness into Arthur's days. For the first time, he had enough money to feed himself, pay for a new, more prominent place to stay, and start over. The payout was thirty thousand dollars–the most he's ever had–he kept most of it in savings, not wanting to rely only on the positive befalling.

He took only the amount he needed to rent a new apartment in a different neighborhood. It was a regular-sized studio with its own full kitchen, bathroom, and enough living space to accommodate himself and the minimal items he had without feeling claustrophobic. It was also in a better location and was the closest he was to various forms of public transportation.

Happily, he signed a lease to a 507 sq. ft studio, half the size of the one he had lived with his mother. The space was quaint, with plain white painted walls, bright wooden floors, and large windows overlooking the city. It was a stark contrast to his previous home, which was covered with old, faded wallpaper and windows that faced only the side of a brick building and a shady alleyway.

He furnished his new home as simple as possible, wanting an uncluttered, peaceful, open space. In addition, it had remaining furniture from the previous tenant, who graciously gave them away to Arthur for a couple of hundred dollars, who accepted them gladly. He purchased a new mattress, a comfortable queen size, the largest bed he'd ever had. He also bought a writing desk and a 2-person dining table; all the other furniture in the apartment came with it, which he was thankful for.

The place felt like home. His.

Months later, Arthur settled into a new routine in his life. He'd wake up, get ready for work, and take a moment to watch the news.

The morning news used to consist of positivity and levity, news that was supposed to bring hope. Of late, the news only showed the dark side of Gotham and the violence slowly but surely spreading over the city as the disparity between the rich and poor continued.

Arthur did his best to focus on what he could control. While he suffered being beaten and mugged or harassed his fair share of times, he did his best to "put on a happy face," as his mother would tell him, and trudge on.

Arthur began to change physically and mentally. He finally had enough money to buy himself groceries and could now eat three square meals a day, a luxury he didn't have for so many years, which had led him to be gaunt. Now, however, he had filled in, and his ribs were no longer visible. His face filled in, and he looked younger than before and accentuated by his handsome, chiseled features. He was brighter, and his eyes were more alert. His body being fueled with more energy gave him the mental clarity and fortitude to start retaking his medication as well.

At work, Arthur kept to himself and ignored the taunts and bullying from fellow colleagues. He kept busy and focused on doing his best as Carnival the Clown.

The burst of energy and better sleep didn't go unnoticed, as his manager gave him more gigs, besides being a sign holder or a sidekick to another clown. He performed monthly at the children's wing at the Cancer Treatment Center of Wayne General Hospital .

He was popular at party events such as bar mitzvahs and company offsites where they needed to increase engagement. The paycheck was enough to help him pay his rent, water, and electricity, without dipping into his savings unless it was for groceries, which cost him less than $20 a week.

He would stop by the public library a block away from his home in his spare time. He discovered that while he wasn't the best reader, it didn't mean he couldn't enjoy expanding his knowledge. He opted to improve his knowledge through the audio cassette tapes they offered. These allowed him to learn during his long commutes on the train and buses and helped him remain grounded. It opened his perspective on the world.

While the days and nights were still lonely, Arthur was slowly finding contentment in his new situation. He knew it'd be a long journey, but a spark was lit up in his life. He was in a new place, with a new shot at life, and while the memories and sadness would overcome him, he felt that there had to be light at the end of the tunnel. So he decided that for the first time in his life, he would embrace the uncertainty and make the path for himself.

TBC