Life and Death: Chapter 22
His psychiatrist was blonde. With doe eyes, and a plastered smile. Ambitious. He did appreciate them sending in this little treat, but it wasn't enough.
Joker looked for something else to see but her boring face. Harley came to him at once, flickering around him, but never really in the way he wanted.
Ah, there she was. Naked, covered in blood, cradling a baby in her arms. Throwing her head back, sticky blonde locks falling around her shoulders, wide lips inviting him. It wasn't the mental picture he had been looking for, but that was how she wanted to present herself. There had been something purely animalistic about her around the time of childbirth. Ready to tear out throats, and he had made her like that. Watching her become so feral was enjoyable, always out for blood, and now the child is teething so shhhh-
A flicker later and Harleen was sitting next to him by the table in the empty, tiled room, wearing her white doctor's coat and golden hair in a ponytail, looking accusingly at his assigned shrink. He knew why.
"Ya wanna be in the center of attention so bad, huh," he chuckled at her.
Harleen got a slight fluster on her face. He leaned into her with a grin, tilted her face upwards, and saw her cheeks glow. Atta girl.
He enjoyed seeing her like this, and she was here, viciously beautiful and completely his.
"I'm here to finish your evaluation," the psychiatrist said, looking at the notes in front of her as she tried to regain his attention. She sounded straight down-to-business, composed. They all knew about Harleen Quinzel – it was national gossip by now. He knew exactly what she thought. It was apparent in her wary eyes, but she wasn't just scared. She was curious. Over-confident. Out of all the old-timey shrinks Joker had met in the last months, she had been the one insisting to treat him.
Oh, would he play with his food.
"Ever met Dr. Quinzel?" Joker nodded at her seat. "Right there I spread her legs and made her scream." He smiled, reminiscing. Even after all these years, the memory of Harleen gasping and moaning affected him. The orderlies had sprained his arm; he could feel it. The dull ache spread through his entire shoulder underneath the straitjacket.
"Mr. J, please focus."
He leaned closer to the psychiatrist, feeling her pulse like it was his own. Nothing was as enjoyable as seeing the look in her eyes, a natural state of being.
"With my mouth, nothing else. Ya know why she was screaming, Doc?"
She sorted through her documents, and he saw that her throat was dry. Harleen gave him a glare which he responded to with a wry grin, and he heard her chuckle quietly at the prospect of what was to come.
"For me not to stop." He smiled widely, seeing another wall of his shrink's defense crumble.
"Hmm… that look of yours." He clicked his tongue. "Maybe, just maybe, you're jealous?"
Something flickered in her eyes. She had tensed up, her hands folded in a strange position, her eyes wide and her face reddening. "Mr. J, this is really not appropriate."
"Maybe you wish I would spread your thighs over there?" He lowered his voice, letting his tongue roll over his lips. "Make you beg for it. Now, I can be really nice too. You could say I'm a gentleman. I can tell you all about what you really want to know."
Her eyes widened ever so slightly. Harleen was playing with a sharp pencil next to him.
"You see, Harley, she was always there to scratch this little itch of mine."
His psychiatrist was breathing faster. He'd only need to give her the last blow; her mind was bent open, ready for him to break in. It was too easy, really. Blown away, huff and puff and all that. Really, was this a joke?
It was just to keep him entertained while he waited. Bribing a guide to make a phone call had been too easy, something he was legally allowed to do, hehe. It wouldn't be long now – his associates would have him out in a few weeks' time, max. He'd enjoy this fully in the meantime.
Moistening his lips with his tongue, he leaned closer, tilting his head to the side. "You know, Doc, I've been thinking I need… help. I get so lonely." He flashed his teeth wide.
Harleen's eyes narrowed. If she was here, she would push him hard and he imagined her sharp nails in his hair. Now, that's the stuff.
"We need to finish this session. Focus on my question."
"I'm sorry, Doc. I'll be good. What was the question again? Forgive a man for being a bit… forgetful. Ya know, those shocks."
"It's alright."
She was on the edge, so close, eyes enthralled with him, and he remembered Harleen's blue eyes staring back at him, his freed hand in her hair messing her silly bun up, as she bucked her hips against his fingers on the edge of desperation. Harleen always wanted more, the little vixen. He was suddenly furious that this shrink even dared to sit there, a place that belonged to no one but her.
He made his voice as soft, unintimidating and mild as only he could. A lamb, he was. With his brutal fangs concealed beneath that fluffy fur. Harleen giggled, her face twisting into a pale-skinned, white-haired version of herself.
"I can't focus, my back and shoulders are hurtin' bad. Would you mind loosening these straps a little… please? I have trouble breathing. Those guys cracked my ribs. Gotta give 'em credit, really, they aren't subtle with a guy who's already on horse tranquilizers-" He chuckled softly, rolling his head forward and pretending to feel the weight of it, like a bad case of being stoned.
He was giving her a choice, seeing her nod silently as she carefully moved closer. He was greatly amused by seeing her trying to swallow without it being obvious.
She got behind him, warily, and he pretended to be as tranquilized as they thought he was while she adjusted the straitjacket.
"Just a bit more, pretty please Doc?"
The pigs always opened the door wide open for the wolves. Harleen hadn't been stupid; Harleen had been expecting it as well. She welcomed the wolf to tear into her.
His shrink loosened the straps enough for him to be able to get one arm out of the straitjacket on his own, with a fair amount of wriggling and tearing – old habits die hard. To his amusement and surprise, she didn't call security. She stood a bit away from him as she watched him adjust his jacket. When she didn't make another move, he secretly loosened the jacket enough for both his arms to be freed, while keeping them inside of the tight garment.
"I'm really hoping we could build a foundation of trust between us," the Joker purred, still acting coy, trying to look stoned. "Thank you, Doctor."
She looked hesitantly at him, then glanced back at the folders on the table, then at the camera in the corner of the ceiling. She slowly took a step back.
He moved calmly sideways, to the one blind spot he knew the camera had. He almost laughed as the annoying garment finally was lost. He stretched his arms out wide, grimacing as blood finally flowed freely to his aching muscles. The pain was welcomed, prickling his skin.
Joker glanced back at Harleen. She had crossed her arms in front of her chest. He slowly stepped closer to the psychiatrist. She still did not move.
"Mr. J, I hope you can return this trust. Please sit down."
"Oh, I will," he promised her. "I'm a trust fund, you can trust me." His hands wrapped around her throat and she gasped, her eyes staring wildly at him as she tried to get out of his grip. It felt nice, it felt right, his muscles had been aching to be used.
She bucked wildly, flailing with her arms, unable to make a sound. She tried to reach the alarm button in her coat without success as he placed her body on the table for leverage, careful not to draw attention from the guards right outside the door. He increased the pressure on her windpipe and she stopped struggling surprisingly fast, watching him as he watched her life slowly disappear.
Few things felt as good as killing. Harley's body was one of them, a line of coke.
In fact, killing was his favorite thing and he had missed it, exhilarating him. The doctor's knees faltered and she grew limp in his grip. He'd missed this, remembering only his hands around Harley and him deep inside her. He could pretend.
When the doctor's life was gone he withdrew his hands and dusted himself off, letting out a sigh.
Bitch, you knew I was a snake.
Good feeling aside, it was time to get back to business. He wouldn't keep his girls waiting.
.
.
Things had been strange lately. She had been drifting in and out of a funny state, with every sedation and every fall to the floor, like a loop that never ended. Sometimes she could swear she was back at that place.
"Harleen Quinzel. You have been sentenced to the death penalty for the kidnapping and murder of Jason Todd, as well as nineteen other confirmed murders."
Harley rose from the floor. "Oh, come on! That was ages ago, I don't even remebah' any of it! What about that task force thing, huh? Waller wants me for cheap!"
The voice on the other side of her cell felt real, it sounded real. Maybe it was Waller, maybe it was a lawyer or even the Bat, she couldn't see the difference.
"The Joker is on death row. If you testify against him, you'll have a chance to rejoin the Task Force X."
"I'm not joinin' your stupid drama club again! Suck it, Waller!" She backed into the opposite wall, trying to shut the noise out of her head.
Him. His face, his voice - they could fry her brains to bits, sedate her into a coma if they wanted, but she would never forget him.
There it was, the memory of the metal weight in her hand, the swing of it – she had been pissed all evening because Mr. J would rather chase that stupid lunatic in a Halloween costume around town than being with her. She had taken the crowbar from him when he straightened up to catch his breath and then delivered another glorious swing as his laughter echoed in her ears. He had been so into her all night, grinning from ear to ear as he lifted her up and spun around the room, speckles of Robin's grey matter on her cheeks and lips when he leaned in to kiss her hard, and they tasted it together.
Harley looked up, trying to put the screws in their proper place to get a hold of the situation, but the person on the other side of her cell was speaking through thick goo.
"Did you forget about me again?" a familiar voice spoke.
"I want KFC for our last meal," another one demanded.
She felt like she had been asleep for the longest time. This was all a dream, she had fallen into the rabbit hole, she was Harleen Quinzel waking up to go to work, makeup and stockings on, she was Harls always stretched out next to him in the late afternoon, she was Mommy to a girl with two voices of her own - it went on and on forever.
When she closed her eyes and tried to remember what year it was, it all flashed behind her eyelids, the same broken record. She was strapped to a table and he was standing by her head and all she could think was he's gonna leave me, he can't leave me now, then the bliss when he stroked her face. Then she was lying on another table underneath sharp lights, and he was standing in front of her as they looked at her belly together, the cobwebs of stretchmarks patterned all over her skin, and the world went white again.
Harleen and Baby were arguing in her head and all she could think about was him. A fever dream.
She sat down and waited for him to come and hand her another pill, so she could go right back to sleep.
.
.
June watched the girl through the glass. She had wrapped her arms around her knees, rocking back and forth as she stared into the wall. It had been weeks since it started and only seemed to intensify.
She crouched down to her level, paying no mind to the guard behind her. Lucy had ignored the doctors' every attempt to speak with her and they had to sedate her in order to medicate her, a sight June wished she could forget. She couldn't help the growing guilt as she called the girl's name.
The rocking movement halted. Empty, grey eyes looked at her. "I've been waiting for you. Why didn't you come?"
June struggled to speak. "I'm sorry. Waller had me doing a lot of things lately." She looked at the guard. "Please let me inside."
He hesitated, about speak into his walkie-talkie, but June's voice grew harder. "I've been in there before. She won't harm me. My visit is authorized by Amanda Waller."
When the guard had let her inside the cell, June sat down a few feet away from the girl. She wasn't afraid of her like the full-grown men in security uniforms seemed to be. She knew those wary looks that people used to give her too, as if she could explode and turn into Enchantress at any moment. Once she could have.
"I need you to tell me something more, Lucy."
No reaction.
"They want to move you out of state, far away from here. If you can give us some information, we can delay it."
The girl tensed up, her eyes widening.
"My name isn't Lucy," she said at last. "I'm Jaylie." Then she lowered her head and went back to her concentrated movement of rocking back and forth.
"I really am sorry. When I found in the streets you back then, all those years ago… I should have taken you to the hospital. I should have helped you, so you didn't go back to that. If I could undo it I would -"
The rocking slowed down. "I would have found them again," Jaylie said, suddenly staring right at June. "They would have found me. Always." Her gaze was so harsh that June had to look away. She ignored the constant red light of the surveillance camera.
"I've heard… there is footage, evidence. You were in the Joker's clubs when you were very young, weren't you?"
Jaylie looked blankly at her.
"What kind of things did you see? There were known offenders at those places. Just tell me what you remember. If you can give them enough information, they have a reason for keeping you here."
She crouched up, smiling wide. "I poisoned them all."
June watched her incredulously. "Did you ever get hurt?"
Jaylie was still amused, ceasing her rocking and sitting upright. "There was a man," she said, her eyes glittering with the same expression June remembered in her mother. "He said I was pretty. He always gave me jewelry and candy. He asked me to sit next to him, so he could look at me."
June's throat went dry.
"He said I was prettier than anyone he had ever seen. Even more than Mom. No one ever says that." She grinned at June, who felt the dread creep up her spine.
"What then?"
"Daddy put a knife in his head, then hung him in the bowels for everyone to see." She shrugged. "Mommy cut off his dick."
June stared at her, unable to compose a single sentence. The girl spoke of it like she was recalling a boring trip to the park.
Jaylie grimaced. Her parents were the ones who had ruined her first deal when she was nine years old – she had attained more gold those weeks she had ever got before. All she had to do was to sit next to the patron at the club and smile as he praised her. She wouldn't let him touch her hair, but he insisted she sit close to him as he presented lavishing gifts. She had felt like Mama, powerful and unconquerable, the ruler of her own mini kingdom, until they found her in the private booth and ruined it all.
She had glared and voiced her complaints, but not even Harley had paid her any attention as the Joker stabbed his way through the man's skull until his white shirt had turned red.
She didn't know what the fuss was about – she had been around strangers for many years, and they got killed more often than not, but never like that. She had seen her parents take pleasure in killing, she had seen them not waste another look at someone, but this was without glee, only violence. She understood she must have done something wrong and broken a Rule, because when the Joker turned in her direction she decided to not make a fuss, making herself small and docile instead, quickly following Frost out towards the car.
"What'd I do?" she had nagged when he escorted her into the black car he usually drove. "Frosty!"
He knew there was no use in trying to keep silent. "You got in the wrong company, kid."
"I just used him for the money!"
He met her eyes in the rear-view mirror, hesitant as if he was contemplating with himself. "He's known around the place. Likes kids."
She stuck out her chin. "So what. They can't kidnap me there."
"He don't care about money, don't want a ransom. The kids never come back." His voice hardened, and he refused to say anything else.
She had waited for her moment a few days later when she was certain that the Joker had calmed down and she was not in for punishment if she got in his way. She crept up to him, silently, careful not to bother his thoughts, standing by the edge of his office until she saw him roll his eyes and irritably move his hand in a gesture for her to speak up or go away. She watched his face closely.
"I had a deal with that guy at the club. He was mine."
"What, that old corpse?" His lips stretched.
She defied her instincts and stepped closer, holding her head high and looking him in the eye. "I'm not afraid of some grumpy old man. I could have stabbed him."
He laughed scornfully, mocking her, and her temper flared. "I was gonna poison him anyway!"
Before she had time to react, he had reached out for her, his hand at the back of her skull. She ignored the stinging in her scalp and looked back at him.
"You think so?" His expression was hard, his gaze digging into hers.
He didn't believe her and she pushed back the urge to stomp her foot and hiss at him, instead she gazed back with that patient look that Mommy always gave until he grew bored and let go of her. She carefully adjusted the knife behind in her back pocket that she had spent all day sharpening. Then she struck - and put the blade to his throat.
He tensed up, stopping as he was about to say something. She braced herself and a second later his hand was around her wrist in a crushing grip, and they ended up in a strange version of stalemate. Right when she thought he was going to break her entire arm off, he relaxed and chuckled deeply in his chest, still with the knife digging into his skin. He grinned at her.
"Now go and put that to some good use. Make Daddy proud."
.
After retelling it to June, Jaylie sat back, watching her silently.
June tried to wrap her head around the strange story. But it was something. She had just confirmed that one of the largest trafficking offenders that the GCPD were looking for was in fact gone. She glanced at the surveillance camera as if she could look Amanda Waller in the face. The girl was useful. She was bright, she deserved better than whatever hole Amanda was planning to throw her into.
"What's gonna happen to me?" Jaylie asked. She sounded detached again, barely any emotion at the surface.
"I don't know yet."
June was shocked into complete stillness when Jaylie suddenly reached out and wrapped her scrawny arms around her. Her face contorted into a grimace of sadness. "Please, Juney. Give me another chance. I've been so good. Will you adopt me?"
She struggled to think straight, her body reacting to an imagined threat, her heart beating faster. She thought of Rick and she thought of the little girl she'd found in the street many years ago with the duct tape barely off her face. She looked at Jaylie as another headache came over her, but the girl was still holding on to her, her grip hardening.
June had heard the news of the Joker killing a psychiatrist – the fact that he managed to do it even under surveillance made her skin crawl. She guessed the reason that neither he nor Harley had been moved out of state yet meant that this was their final destination. And they would leave shortly.
"I'll see what I can do," she whispered. The girl was still clinging to her, and June awkwardly reached out to stroke her hair. It felt unfamiliar and she couldn't relax around this strange girl with scars on her body and wiry limbs, who had been through so much. Yet, she couldn't leave her like this.
.
Two days later, June left the maximum-security floor in the late evening, exhausted after a long meeting with Amanda Waller. She dreaded telling Rick about the situation. But the fact remained that Lucy, or whoever she was, would be orphaned in less than forty-eight hours.
Just like Enchantress had taken a hold of her once, she couldn't let this continue. It would maybe take years before anything could be arranged and all psychic evaluations would be done; she knew she had a bureaucratic hell in front of her, but it could be worth it. One life saved for the thousands she and Enchantress had taken.
She had her phone in her hand, about to call Rick again, rounding the last corridor towards the exit when the lights started flickering. She started walking faster, ignoring it. Nothing made her as uncomfortable as these never-ending hallways and artificial lights. How anyone could actually want to work in this place was beyond her.
Her phone had no service, and when she stopped to check it, the lights went out.
TBC. Review and let me know what you think!