The Aftermath: Chapter Four
The following week, Dr. Roberts was pacing nervously in his office. He had already set things into motion, but it wasn't too late to back down. There was no way he would not be connected to what he was about to do. What if he was fired? Impossible, Jeremiah would never let him go; he was far too desperate for employees as it was. Sure, he might get reprimanded, but this was worth it. Besides, it was the only recourse left open to him. He was being treated most unfairly and it was up to him to level the playing field or back off completely and Roberts was never one to back off a dollar.
He continued trying to convince himself that he had made the right decision when he suddenly stumbled over a bucket. Fortunately, he caught his footing before hitting the ground. In the corner of his office, Roberts spotted some other cleaning supplies carelessly left lying about. Blasted janitors, how dare they make a mess of his work space? He gave a quick kick to the bucket, but it did little to satisfy his frustration with the world.
Earlier that week, Roberts had altered the patient schedule once again. If Dr. Arkham wasn't going to give him what he wanted, he would just take it anyway. He was going to be doing his regular session with the Joker this afternoon, but had arranged for Harley to be brought in shortly after they had begun.
"What's on the menu today, Doc?" Joker commented as he entered the room casually.
"Actually, something quite different," Roberts replied, checking his watch. "But we still have a few minutes."
The doctor allowed his patient to prattle on (something about pineapples).
"It's not an apple and it doesn't come from a pine. That's comedy, Doc."
Roberts wasn't really paying attention to the ramblings. His mind was still racing when Harley finally entered the room.
"Hey toots!" Joker cat-called. "We just seem to keep bumping into each other lately. If we aren't careful, people will start to talk."
Harley beamed back at him.
A small voice inside Roberts told him that it was not too late. He could still set things right. Just tell the guards there had been a mistake. But a much larger voice said he was setting things right, so he turned and addressed Harley.
"Please, make yourself comfortable."
Harley bounced across the room and into the Joker's lap, holding his head tightly to her chest.
Joker rolled his eyes. "He didn't say to make me uncomfortable, Harl."
"Sorry Mistah J," she chirped, releasing her stranglehold.
"That was quite a stunt you two pulled the other day," the doctor began neutrally.
"Oh pish posh," Joker waved away what he obviously thought to be a compliment. "Why that was barely anything at all, just needed some private time with my girl."
He pinched Harley's cheek rather rougher than necessary. Harley let out a tiny squeak, but Roberts couldn't tell if it was out of happiness or pain…perhaps a combination of the two.
Roberts continued undaunted. "I'd like this to be a rather free session as I have never worked with the two of you together. I hope for this to become a somewhat regular exchange. Would either of you like to share anything?"
The Joker looked disgusted. "I don't swing like that, Doc." Harley, in turn, giggled uncontrollably.
Roberts had been Joker's therapist for sometime now. He was used to these kinds of comments and had become quite adept at ignoring them, so he turned to Harley instead.
"What about you, Ms. Quinn?"
Before she had a chance to respond, the Joker (never one to allow the spotlight to deviate from him) began again.
"Y'know what, Harl? I think my dear doctor is trying to get inside our heads."
Harley appeared confused. "…Well…That's kinda his job, Puddin'."
"Harley," Joker addressed her unhappily.
"Y-Yessir?" Harley asked timidly.
"Shut up." It was all he had to say.
"Yessir." She was obviously not playing her role correctly.
He turned his attention back to Roberts and snapped his fingers.
"I've got an idea! I know just how to help you out, Doc."
Roberts peered at him skeptically.
"No really. This is just what you need. You want to understand us, right?"
"Correct," he replied, nodding slowly.
"Well, no one understands us better than our victims! Harl can back me up on this."
"Oh, absolutely Mistah J."
Roberts was on his feet instantly, but Joker quickly crossed the room and pushed him back down into his chair.
"No need to thank me, Doc. It's my pleasure."
Roberts began yelling frantically for the guards.
"I'm afraid they won't be joining us today. Did you know our dear guards are suffering financial problems? Harley could barely stand the thought, so we decided to give them a hand."
The doctor froze at this point, the consequences of his actions sinking in.
"The bad news Doc, is that this is going to be our final session." He wiped away a mock tear. "The good news is, I finally figured out how to off a guy with a mop!"
Harley cart wheeled to the corner of the room with the cleaning supplies and back, presenting Joker with the mop.
"Doc, you don't sword-swallow for a hobby, do you? I'd hate for you to survive this."
Harley immediately pried Roberts' mouth open and Joker thrust the mop handle down his throat. It took some work, but after a bit of shoving, twisting, and various noises coming from the doctor, he managed to get the whole thing down there.
They stepped back to admire his handiwork. The working end of the mop was the only portion sticking out. Harley thought it made a pretty funny looking beard. Blood trickled down the corners of his mouth, staining his crisp white coat.
"Well, that was fun. How long 'til the guards show back up?"
Harley glanced at the clock on the wall. "About thirty minutes."
Joker flashed a charming smile. "Feeling frisky?"
Harley squeaked again and if the doctor could have heard, he would have known she was happy.
Funerals were becoming all to frequent for Joan and she thought it odd as her line of work was intended for healing. Roberts was not a doctor she ever truly respected, but he didn't deserve this. Joan saw the departed doctor's wife. She seemed to be the strong type and barely allowed a tear to show. Her young son was there as well, trying to come to terms with his father being taken from him. Joan didn't even know Roberts had a family. He didn't seem the type.
The worst part was Joan once again found herself feeling guilty. If she would have approached Jeremiah about her fears regarding Roberts when she first began to suspect them, maybe they wouldn't be attending a funeral today. She cursed herself for selfishly thinking about her own guilt rather than focusing on the passing of a co-worker.
The following days were even darker than usual at the asylum. Shortly after the funeral, one of the members of the janitorial staff had broken down. It turned out that she was paid off to leave the cleaning supplies in Roberts' office. She almost didn't accept the offer, but then convinced herself that nothing too harmful could be done with the materials she'd left. Of course, some of the guards were suspected too. They never showed back up for work though. Either they were paid very well, or things went farther than they had expected.
After Roberts' body was found, both the Joker and Harley were taken to solitary, for what good that would do. Joan didn't want the extra time given to her by Harley's confinement. She didn't want to think, so she buried herself in work like she always did and completed her assigned evaluation. Of course, she was sure that there was much more she could do on it, but Joan had become even more bitter towards the project than she was when she had begun it. She then submitted it to Dr. Arkham with no fanfare.
Later that week, Jeremiah showed up at her office.
"Busy?" he asked casually.
"Not really," Joan replied. "Come on in."
He sat down and there was an uncomfortable silence before he began talking again.
"I knew there was a reason they didn't try to escape."
"…I hadn't even thought about it," she admitted. "It makes sense. Joker probably started working on his death that day."
"I came by to tell you that your evaluation was very solid work. I know you weren't really interested in doing it, but this is probably the closest we've gotten yet to understanding how they interact on the outside."
Joan was silent again. She didn't even give a physical response.
"Joan, what's troubling you? You can talk to me," her employer reassured her, watching with concern.
He expected her to say something about Roberts, her feelings of regret regarding Harley, or the mind-numbing lack of progress any of them seemed to make in the grand scheme of things. Jeremiah certainly did not expect what came next.
"They're happy, aren't they?"
Dr. Arkham was confused. "Who are you talking about?"
"Joker and Harley," she said and her eyes were beginning to water. "They are genuinely happy and it's not fair. It's not fair that they get to be who they are and happy, and I am who I am and not!"
"They reside in a world of their own making with no regards to the consequences of their actions. In short, they live in a fantasy world, and who wouldn't be happy with that? …But it's not real, Joan." He was now becoming very concerned. "I think you are too close to this project and these patients and that is my fault…"
Joan interrupted him with a short laugh and smiled at him warmly. The smile made him feel better somehow.
"I'm fine, Jeremiah, really." She rarely called him by his first name. Joan grabbed a tissue and took a moment to calm down. "It's just…Harley feels complete simply by being around him. She finds happiness in his happiness, however sick that might be, to the point she has become what he wants. …Can you think of anyone that you feel that way about, or that feels that way about you?"
"I don't think I'd want to, Joan."
"Neither would I, at least not to that extreme, but you know what I'm getting at."
He did know. "No…there's no one I can think of. I'm rather married to my work though."
She nodded. "So am I, but I've decided that it is not enough." She blushed. "…I have a date tonight. He seems like a really nice guy."
"That's wonderful Joan." He smiled at her. "In fact, I want you to take the rest of the day off to get ready."
She shook her head quickly. "I can't do that! I have a session with Ivy in a couple of hours."
"Tell you what. I am going to go speak to Ms. Isley personally, and if she feels she is on the verge of a breakthrough, you may stay," Jeremiah insisted, winking at her in a friendly manner.
They both laughed and Joan's smile grew even brighter. "Thank you, sir."
Joan wrapped things up quickly in her office and then headed out the door towards her car. She had a new outlook on life and a big night ahead of her.
NOT the end. I still have my epilogue.
Author notes: I don't know about the rest of you, but after sex I'm always in the mood for a little violence. Hope you enjoyed.(Psst...the pineapple joke was all RisqueSno. She just threw it out there in an IM one day and I told her that I was soooo stealing it for my fic.)