Author's note: Well hey guys! I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I feel like a lot of it was necessary! Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and follows it means the world to me! Hope you enjoy it!
"What the hell were you thinking Doctor Quinzel?!" Leland bellowed. "I gave you authorization to have sessions without the straitjacket and you assume releasing him from his cuffs is a good idea?" Leland's chocolate colored eyes flash hotly at the young blonde.
"I'm sorry." Harleen said looking down, forging humiliation. 'Perhaps it really is my fault, I fell right into his trap' Harleen thought to herself; for some reason it felt like she was partly to blame, for instance, she was downright morphing the truth, taking the blame for his escape. "I just…I guess I wasn't thinking. He's been so good in his sessions, so open…and I just thought..." she trailed off, not wanting to add more complication to the lie. Despite herself, Harleen knew exactly why she was lying for him, she couldn't bare the thought of being taken off her case. Which was more likely to happen if Leland knew she had opened up to him on a personal level. She couldn't possibly stand not seeing him again. 'Which is absolutely, downright crazy'. He's dangerous, unpredictable, commanding...powerful: everything she wasn't and she found herself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. But it seemed that this time, she flew too close to the flame, and now she was burnt, she groaned, raising her hand to gently touch her bruised neck.
Joan sighed, and despite her anger, felt sympathy for the kid. "I get it." She started, after all, every Doctor wanted to see the best in their patients: that was their job. "You want to see the best in him, but Harleen he's not changing. You're just lucky the guards arrived when they did."
Harleen held back an eye roll, the imbeciles guards were claiming all the glory, and she knew the truth would get lost in the haze of dreadful excitement as soon as the story began to spread. 'He stopped himself, they didn't do shit.' "So lucky." Harleen lied, not trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
Leland gave her a peculiar look, but didn't question her further. "Protocol requires us to keep him in solitary confinement for the next 48 hours."
"48 hours?" Harleen said slowly, convinced she had heard Doctor Leland incorrectly.
"Yes, do you not think that's enough time?" Leland asked, concern seeping into her motherly voice.
"No, no. It's plenty long." Harleen couldn't quite place the feeling surfacing in her chest, but the tightness made her feel as though they were locking her up too.
"Right…" Leland trailed off momentarily, still failing to understand why Harleen was acting so off. She chose to blame it on the near death experience. "Also Harleen, I would prefer this stay between us...god only knows if Arkham caught wind of this it would be off with both our heads."
And suddenly a childlike giggle escaped from Harleen's pink lips. "Figuratively, right Doc?" She said, sounding more like a certain someone than she cared to admit.
Leland stared at the blonde in obvious confusion, until Harleen's hand ghosted over her purpling neck.
"You should go home...rest a little Harleen, you've been through a very traumatic event." Joan said, ignoring her earlier comment.
Harleen gave her a small smile. "Of course." And then she exited the cozy office.
Leland, for her part, decided it was best not to worry about the fair haired doctor. 'God help that girl. Did nothing faze her?' She found herself thinking before amending it. 'She's fine Joan, just in shock. Shock, that's all.'
The next two days felt like Harleen's very own prison sentence. When she had gotten home that afternoon, her neck had been unbelievably stiff, though she could not find the motivation to go see a Doctor about it. Instead, she had drawn a warm bath, filling the tub with all kinds of scented bath oils. 'May as well try and relax.' she signed before slipping below the water.
And she truly did try to relax, but it seemed her hippocampus would not stop recalling what had happened earlier that day. Harleen honestly wanted to feel fear when her mind drifted back, but instead she felt something different, something undeniably similar to calmness. Perhaps, she was purely being naive, but even in that moment when she had watched his emerald orbs fog over with a darkness she had never known, she had felt in her gut that he wouldn't kill her. It was the same thing she had felt when she lied about his escape, even when the key had laid heavily in her breast pocket as she told Leland it was her own fault.
It was hard to explain, even harder to admit to herself, but Harleen couldn't help but feel as if they were destined in some twisted way to play this game forever. That he wouldn't kill her and she wouldn't leave him. It was completely fucked up, yet she couldn't find the willpower to end things. Yes, he was manipulative and dangerous, however, there was something more behind the killer eyes and homicidal smile, something that Harleen could not help but feel a deep, unearthly connection to. As if they were a key and a lock. The problem was she had yet to decide who was the key and who was the lock in their little game.
Harleen remained in the tub long after the water had turned cold and the bubbles had died off, the soap sinking down into the bottom of the large tub.
The following day and a half was pure hell. She was bored to tears and didn't even have their session together to keep her going. Adding the frustration was her coworkers, who all gave her strange, pitiful looks when they made eye contact in the white, glowing hallways of the Asylum. She could practically see their vile mouths drooling over the newest scandal. Some even had the audacity to approach her and tell her the man deserved much, much worse than a cushy white room for a few days. To which Harleen would flippantly reply, "Perhaps, a single conversation with you would be torture enough for him." Followed by a charming smile and flip of her blonde hair as she walked haughtily past them without even sparing them a last glance.
When she got home her own mind became her worst enemy, having begun replaying the harsh words he had ruthlessly bitten out at her. It hurt, it all hurt. She felt as if her insides were being torn apart by razors. But the truth of it all hurt the most: he had been right. Right about it all and she hated him for it. Hated herself for it more. So Harleen did the only thing she had ever known to do when the reality of life became too much, she wouldn't acknowledge it. She would fake it all, pretended that he was wrong about her, and eventually things would get better, or at least bearable. But she wasn't sure if she could ever make things go back to the way they were. Wasn't sure she wanted to go back to that suffocating silence of not speaking her mind, of being the meek little Doctor Harleen Quinzel, who let other people tell her what was best for her. She fell into a restless sleep that night, turning for hours as each of his words sank in further, crawling under her creamy skin, burning at every surface.
Sometime, during that long night, after Harleen had found some semblance of sleep, and when the moon permitted its soft white light to shimmer across her serene face, Harleen was startled awake by her own screams, bolting upright in her bed frantically. She had just had the most startling of dreams, something that did not resemble her usual nightmares. As she struggled to catch her breath, she allowed the muddled details of it to float back to consciousness...it had begun with her entering the gloomy walls of Arkham like any other day. After having entered a room that had recently became all too familiar to her, she had been overtaken by an extreme heat; though to her shock, the sensation had almost been pleasant, like she was standing over a blazing fire in the dead of winter but wasn't getting burned at all, simply avoiding the treacherous cold. But, as she had began to relax into the flaming warmth, she felt something even warmer and sticky ooze down her cheek, quickly she had ran to the metal door of the room to check her reflection. Where she saw blood seeping down her face. Screaming, she had desperately glanced down at her hands and found that the blood covered her whole body, and she soon discovered that they we're no longer her's at all, and they were wrapping around her own neck and that's when the laughter began… it had bounced off of every corner of the room. Darkly whispering "Harley wants to play doctor Quinzel, all you have to do…is let her out." Harleen shivered, recalling how it had been at that moment that a childlike laugh had escaped her own throat, propelled by something deep inside of her that she couldn't name. After that, she had woken up screaming.
"Just give in." A giggly voice whispered and Harleen could not located the source, the sound bouncing off every corner of her bedroom. Closing her eyes, Harleen trembled as she tried desperately to block out the voice. But she could still hear the laugher, and she felt a strange heat slither it's way through her body.
Without completely understand what her own mind was doing, she felt her right hand drift over her body, as her eyes shut tightly and her left hand slide past her panties. She let out a soft whimper upon discovering how wet she already was. Without a second thought Harleen began teasing her opening with her fingers, but she found herself imagining them as a very specific someone else's.
She felt herself screaming for her to stop, but it sounded so far away and everything around Harleen felt so incredibly warm. She waited for the discomfort of it to sink in, for the disgust she had always felt to weigh down upon her, but she felt none of it as her mind drifted to lustrous thoughts of him.
Suddenly she felt the edge approaching as soft pants escaped her open mouth, and before she could stop herself his name fell from her lips and she was violently pushed over the edge. She continued to chant his name as her fingers pushed deeper and she came down from that blinding white light of pleasure.
After collecting her breath she opened her eyes in shock.
The giggling voice erupted into full out laughter and Harleen was startled to discover the sound was emerging from her own trembling lips.
"Shut up, shut up!" Harleen found herself chanting but none of it was coming out just the damn childlike laughter.
Coffee was the first thing Harleen reached for when she got into her office the following morning. She was already dreading the day ahead of her, after the… events of last night. She was classing it as a side effect of sleep deprivation, from having invested too much of her time towards working overtime for a specific someone. Insomnia could make even the sanest people go a little crazy, she had reasoned with herself on the ride over to Arkham Asylum. After just giving in to the bubbling voice last night, Harleen had been thrown into dream, after dream of certain green haired patient of hers. And when Harleen had finally felt the sun brush across her face she crawled her way out of bed, after a lengthy grapple with her sheets, that had managed to twist around her small frame during the night.
She knew she had to speak with him for several reasons. The first being the simplest: purely because his 48 hours of solitary confinement were up this afternoon. The second reason was entirely selfish: she just needed to see him, because despite herself she felt as if her eyes were parched from not seeing him, although she doubted she'd ever be able to forget someone so absolutely perfect. The third, was to remind him that he couldn't get ride of her that easily, that she was braver than all his other Doctors combined. And the fourth reason…'well that's the darkest of them all.' She granted. She needed to make it clear that she was not some pawn in his game, that she would not be torn down by him, that she was not his Harley Quinn. She was Harleen Quinzel dammit, had been her whole life, and no one, not even him would change that. She didn't care how she did it, just as long as she could stop the feeling that had been eating away at her insides since their last session. Just as long as she could kill whatever it was that made her feel like someone else entirely.
And that's how Harleen found herself a few hours later in front of their session door, taking four deep breaths before treading forcefully into the room that held the Joker. Into the room that was slowly killing Harleen Quinzel.
And there he sat, perfectly still. No jokes today, no side comments to the guards, no laughter. However, Harleen knew that he was aware of her presence because of the subtle twitch of his elegant neck, the way his muscles seemed to ripple under the confinement of the straitjacket. He said nothing though, and Harleen tried desperately not to trip on her own tongue, 'or feet.' She mused, as she stumbled on her tall heels. She would have laughed, had it not been for the nerves devouring her insides. "Hello Mr. J." She ventured, sitting on the edge of her metal chair.
He did not glance up right away, refusing to grant her the satisfaction. And Harleen wasn't sure if he wanted her to feel guilty for their sessions being disrupted or not. 'It's not even my fault.' She reasoned, fighting the consuming urge to apologize to him. So she did the only thing she could think to do, and bite out "How was solitary confinement?"
She finally saw some reaction on his frozen face, watching in awe as he rolled his emerald eyes in an act that resembled herself, and saw the corner of his dark lips curl up. He snarled and Harleen's insides melted into one trembling mass."Feisty today aren't we Harley?"
"I told you not to call me that." She said, feeling the anger from before consume her.
His eyes shot up at that moment, his smiling blinding Harleen momentarily, and she wanted to scream as her chest betrayed her, pumping erratically.
'She just can't seem to learn to behave.' He observed, not sure whether the feeling coursing through his veins was maddening rage or liquid desire. Then his eyes trailed over her pretty face, noticing the dark circles that matched her purple neck, and the way that her normally flawless blonde hair was more out of sorts, her ocean eyes clouded over with the glassiness that came with lack of sleep. "That's a silly question." He challenged, redirecting the conversation to her earlier question. "Even by my standards Harley. After all, you already know just what it feels like to be confined."
Harleen gripped the bottom of her chair tightly, resisting the urge to yell at him. Trying to not fall into his plan.
He merely laughed at her lack of response, and Harleen felt as if she had made a far worse decision in not answering him. "How did you sleep Harley girl?"
Harleen studied his flawless face. He couldn't possibly know how awful her night had been, he was merely being polite, or perhaps trying to trick her again. Harleen resisted the urge to roll her light eyes as his expression hinted at nothing out of the ordinary. "I slept fine" she replied harshly, while sliding further into her metal chair.
"Touchy Harley, I thought we could at least play nice today." The Joker sighed with a growl.
"Don't call me that!" Harleen cried out suddenly. "That's not my name."
The Joker instantly threw his head back and let out a strangled laugh. "Harley, Harley, Harley" He said occasionally as he felt her glaring at him.
Without warning, Harleen grabbed him by his hair and pulled his face back to look at her.
"Ahhh" the Joker purred out, not in pain however, but in a knowing way, that made Harleen feel as though he were looking right into her soul.
"We're not playing these games anymore Mr. J" she spoke out in a dark whisper.
"And just when I thought things were about to get really fun." He growled as her grip tightened on his hair.
"Oh, if you think this is fun than you're gonna get a hoot out of what I've planned next." Harleen tossed out.
Author's note: Pheww...well I hope you guys like it. Yes, I know, I know I totally chickened out with writing anything too detailed with Harleen, but honestly I promise I'll actually go for it when the Joker and her can be together like that. I'm going to try and get the next chapter written asap… I have a four hour car ride tomorrow to college so you never know! I'll make sure it's up by at latest Sunday night. Also, any guess as to what Harleen has planned next? Please, please let me know what you thought of this chapter!
Update: so currently I have just moved into my dorms and I don't have internet connection yet so I'll update as soon as possible :((((( sorry guys!