Yay, you made it to chapter two! Thanks for sticking with the changes and rolling with the punches it can only get better from here. Happy reading you lovely humans!

I Don't Exist To Them

"Ha ha ha, tell me doll, just how much insanity is locked inside that tiny body?"

I turned and looked through the bars to the cell opposite of mine, seeing someone I had only ever heard about on tv, guess I could consider myself lucky to have never known him personally though, even taking into consideration the fact that he wasn't one of the most discreet villains here in Gotham. It really isn't that hard for him to stand apart from the crowd, vibrant green hair, face tattoos, and bright red lips don't exactly blend in with the masses.

Some higher power must have it out for me, what exactly are the fucking odds that the Joker himself is my neighbor?

He was clothed in the black jumpsuit pants that this place provided leaving his upper torso and feet had his arms hanging out of the bars of his cell and his eyes were locked when they met. His eyes looked tired, even though his body didn't show that, maybe it was the purple bags underneath, or the pale discoloration in his face that stuck out to me, I could even see faint scars if I looked close enough. I had heard stories about how he came to look like this, each were different and more exaggerated than the last, I never knew which one I wanted to believe. Now that I've seen him in real life I gotta say that the acid story is looking to be the most believable right now.

"If that was a short joke it could use a bit of work." I acknowledge that he's dangerous, but I seem to run headlong into danger, always have. I've been taught not to fear danger, to embrace it, conquer it, make myself the bigger threat. He currently has nothing against me, other than his glare, but no weapons to back it up. In few words, the 'King of Gotham' aint shit to me right now.

But, oh boy, if looks could kill I would have been maimed, skinned, and repeatedly brought back from the brink of death just to be put there again. His glare would have been enough for anybody to piss their pants, I wonder how many people actually have.

Then in a split second his glare dropped and he tilted his head back letting out another laugh that made my stomach turn into knots. Is bipolar disorder one of numerous kinks?

"And here I thought I was the expert on jokes." It wasn't really a joke though when you think about it, but he still smiled at me, showing off his silver capped teeth. "You never answered the question doll." Well, well, well someone sure is persistent, or impatient, definitely one of the two.

"Never said I would...but boy wouldn't you like to know" by this time I was leaning on the bars in a position similar to his. Look I know you use flirting as a main tactic but maybe not with the King of Gotham, definitely not right now. I have to say my inner rationale was definitely on the look out for me when it suited her.

I could hear a low growl come from his throat, almost animalistic, "hmm, feisty...I love it."

Out of nowhere there was a scream that came from beside Joker's cell and I could see an inmate running towards his cell door at breakneck speed, it was as though the hounds of hell were on his ass. He crashed into the bars with a sickening thud, God that even sounded painful, I winced when he bounced back to the floor unconscious with blood dripping from his now broken nose and he had a small cut above his eyebrow. The Joker's shoulders were hunched while he started laughing hysterically, his hands clutching the cell bars while throwing his head back, as though this was the funniest thing he had ever seen, well heard actually, since he didn't have a view of the cell.

"That makes that the third time today Benny boy, you wanna try for a fourth."

A few guards came to collect the guy from his cell, Ben I guess his name is, one looked put out and the other looked at the man with sympathy, either he must be new or this happens far too often. I looked back at the insane man who hadn't stopped laughing yet. One guard came up and beat the bars of his cell a few times with his baton and told the Joker to "shut it clown." To which he responded by snapping at the guard like an animal, causing him to jump back in fear, is that "fuck you" in Joker language?

I spoke up again once the guards left with Ben, "does that happen often?" It was an honest, innocent question but I shouldn't have asked it, I should know better than to continue a conversation leading nowhere.

He turned his attention back towards me with a grin stuck on his face, it didn't quite match the one on his stomach but it was pretty close. "It's a very recent development, one that I quite enjoy."

I gave a small hum in response and could only guess what other things he enjoyed. No bad, bad brain, we do not have dirty thoughts about serial killers. I turned my thoughts away from him and looked around all corners of my cell, they were very serious about not having anything besides the standard essentials. My eyes could only see so far down the hallway so I wasn't able to tell where the cameras were located, I couldn't even tell if there was one in my room, I sure as hell know that they had to have one in the Joker's room. In my mind I was thinking of over fifteen scenarios on how to get the heck out of dodge, but I knew nothing about Arkham, because I had never imagined that I would have ever ended up in this place.

Based on the trip to my cell, I could tell that they used standard ID card swipe to enter each sectioned off area of the asylum which would be easy enough to get by. The guards all wore body armour and carried military grade equipment, to get them down I would simply have to aim for the neck, the guns would be a bit trickier. My biggest setback was the fact the this asylum was located on a fucking island! I was broken out of my planning by a voice that would not be easy to adjust to.

"Don't think too hard doll, you might just end up like me." Joker teased from his cell. His tongue ran along the upper set of teeth in his mouth before it set into a smile.

I sent another smirk his way, it seemed to be a natural muscle reaction since no sane person would smirk at this crazy man, "I think that it might take a bit more than thinking hard to be like you." Firstly I would need about about thirty tattoos and then a complete drop in my sanity levels.

He gave a low, deadly chuckle, it sent chills up my spine, but the chills weren't from fear and I couldn't pinpoint what they were from, "well at least you know me, so what's your name doll? After all it's only right to know who I'll have my sights set on for the next however many life sentences." His eyes did a quick scan of my body from top to bottom, then back up again. Then his eyes stared directly into my own, green clashing with amber, oh but names hold power, give a name you give life, you give meaning you give, too much, but I figured that I had nothing else to lose, so why the hell not.

"Scarlett Korin...but I prefer Scar."

Laughing seemed to be something that he really enjoyed, because that is exactly what he did. "Oh now that's a name that puts a smile on my face...but, but, but there's just something a little bit off about it…it's not your real name is it, Scarlett?"

How the fuck did he know?! Kudos to him being the first person to ever realize it but that does not help me in the slightest. Should I deny that he knows the truth, no, odds are he despises liars. Do I roll with it, like everyone I tell my name to knows that it's fake? Shit, shit, shit, ok, ok let's just roll with it. "Of course it's not my real name, I wouldn't even trust my dog with my real name, let alone someone like you. Everyone knows that the people in this city aren't to be trusted, but then again, know that better than anyone, right Joker?"

"Pretty and smart, or smart and pretty, whichever combination rocks your boat, but it is one deadly combination to have, Scar." I thought the phrase was 'floats your boat', but okay, he probably meant to say that.

A group of guards came strolling down the hallway shouting that is was lights out, "nice talking to you, Joker," I said while turning towards my cot. However that doesn't mean I want another conversation, just throwing that out there to whoever might be listening

"Sweet dreams doll."

Two Weeks Later

"Alright Miss Korin, I'd like to start off our little session by welcoming you to Arkham, my name is Doctor Quinzel, now since this is your first psychiatric evaluation with us, well, I take that back, actually it seems this is your first evaluation ever, so we will just keep it light and simple, nothing to worry about." Her voice was light with a slight brooklyn accent embedded into it, but obviously sick of repeating the mantra that they drilled into her from the beginning. You could tell that she looked for anyway to include her own tidbit of niceness into the greeting. She looked like one of the girls that would have been a cheerleader in high school with her long blonde hair and blue eyes, she wore a beautiful grey blouse with black dress pants, along with the standard pristine doctor lab coat, it had her name stitched into it.

"I really wouldn't include a welcome in that introduction, it's not entirely as comforting as they would have you think, especially when it's being used for asylum admittance." I looked back up at the white lights on the ceiling, the room itself was dimly lit but they somehow feel the need to blind who ever is being interrogated. Every part of my body had been restrained to a very uncomfortable leather couch, the only thing I was allowed to move was my neck so as to look at Doctor Quinzel. "Is there any way to lower the brightness level Doc?"

She seemed to be a little baffled at my responses, guess none of her other patients ever had a sense of humor, or maybe most of them are too out of it to form coherent thoughts, except for maybe Joker. Christ I can only imagine the things that Joker has said to his doctors. "Oh, uhm...yeah, yeah sure we can do that." I could hear the click of her heels as she went to the other side of the room.

Once the lights had been turned down she returned to her seat and picked up her clipboard, "so it says here that you have been living in Gotham for almost five years, what made you decide to move here?" Wow, Liz just couldn't keep her fucking mouth shut could she?

"It's actually only been three, going on four, but does there have to be a reason?"

I saw her smile, it wasn't a happy one though, maybe it was just a smile that someone pushes out when they know that their day is going to be shitty. "Well I have my reasons for moving here, since I wasn't born in Gotham. So naturally I think that you must have your reasons as well." She crossed her legs to rest her clipboard against her thigh and tapped her pencil twice on the wood.

"And what are your reasons Doc?" Enlighten me on the great appeal of this cesspool of crime.

She brushed some of her hair behind her before looking away from me in thought. "Well my education, for starters, GCU was one of my best options, full ride, far away from home and had everything I was looking for. Then there was the fact of job opportunities, there are plenty here in Gotham…"

I had to cut her off at that, "so you mean to tell me that you chose Gotham based on the great number of criminally insane because it was basically a playground for a budding psychiatrist like yourself. Did I get that right?"

She let out a quiet sigh, "well I wouldn't exactly put it like that cause it sounds kind of bad, but yeah pretty much." Still not a good enough reason for coming to this place.

"Are all psychiatrists as honest as you?"

I saw her smile again, "only the ones who want to be good at their job." I admit I smiled with her at that.

She took off her glasses to clean them before continuing, "but look, in all honesty Scarlett, everyone has a reason for the things that they do. I want our relationship to be one based on trust and honesty. Believe me when I say that everything will go a hell of a lot smoother if you just answer my questions with sincerity. It's the only way that I can help you." Alright one more joke and then I'm done.

I turned my head to look her directly in the eye, "so we have a relationship do we Doctor Quinzel?" I even raised my brows at her for some extra flair.

You can definitely tell that she doesn't laugh that often, especially at work. "It's a nice relief to have a patient with a sense of humor, but all joking aside I do have to carry on."

I let out a fake huff of irritation and turned my attention to the grooves in the ceiling, "well, since I know that it's required of you go ahead and ask away, just don't expect anything to come out of it." I ended with a quick wink so she knew that my irritation was only slightly fake.

She gave me a small smile and picked up her pencil, "alright would you say that you had a pretty normal childhood growing up?"

I think everybody can agree that, that deserved a groan, "you have got to be kidding me Doc."

There was a faint scratching sound coming from her pencil, "It's a standard question Scarlett."

"It's a pretty stupid question, granted I understand the need for asking it but it's just such a stereotypical question. We all know what it is you're really asking, where your parents abusive? Did one of them tragically die? Did you ever feel neglected? Why not just ask that instead of wasting time?" Her shoulders shrugged in agreement.

"Because it wouldn't be 'proper' to ask a mentally unstable individual such blunt questions."

"Yeah but I'm not mentally unstable."

"I don't know that." Touche Doctor Quinzel.

I looked away from the ceiling and back to her, "and what do you know Doc?"

She twirled her pencil between her fingers before tapping the tip down a list of notes. "Well, clearly you didn't have a very nice upbringing based on your avoidance of the question. Now whether you had a lack of guardianship or abuse I can't tell yet. Trust issues is a big one, but I see that in almost every patient so you're not a completely rare case. You still have a sense of humor so Gotham hasn't completely chewed and spat you back out yet, my first assumption for moving here would have been that you wanted to get away from home, but you've only been here for a few years. I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that you weren't in a good place, but you chose to be somewhere even worse. Maybe you thought you would be another nameless face in the crowd here, but that's just my good opinion." She had a real self-satisfied smirk on her face that kind of pissed me off.

"You think great things about yourself don't you?" Her shoulders gave a small shrug of acknowledgement.

"Sometimes, but that was just what I learned from you. I can tell you what I've learned from your file if you would like…"

"That's not necessary thanks…" there were a couple seconds of silence between us, awkward, uncomfortable silence. "My childhood had its ups and downs, that's all I'm gonna say about it for right now."

She smiled at me, "I'll take it, and I think we can expand on it at a later date. Well where did you grow up Scar?" Whoa Scar? Very unprofessional Doc, what would the board of overpaid psychiatrist say?

"England, can't you tell?" I was facing away from her at this statement to hide my small smirk.

"You think you're so funny don't you?"

"Eh, sometimes…tell me how long have you been picking at people's brains Doc?"

Her head cocked to the side in thought, "uhm, well I've only been licensed for about a year, I finished school when I was twenty-six, but then I had to spend a year following the old wise owls of the psychiatric world."

"So what you're saying is that you're a newb?"

She scoffed, "I wouldn't say that, I have all of the experience that I..."

"How many patients have you had?"

"Wha...well, I think about...six, maybe."

I had to laugh, "you are a newb." We both started to laugh, it really wasn't even that funny, I guess she just likes to laugh as much as I do. There was a knock at the door, I looked over at the clock and saw that we had about fifteen more minutes in the session. Quin, hmm, I like that, Quin, shorter than Quinzel, sounds nice too. Anyway Quin called out for the person to come in, before looking at with a 'sorry for the interruption' face.

"Harleen I just wanted to let you that you're at the fifteen minute mark." Whoa, whoa wait...Harleen, Harleen Quinzel, how did I spend an hour with her and not know her first name? Well I sure as hell am not calling her Harleen it's way too long, L, no to anime, Lee, eh slightly better, Harlee, wait no Harley, like Harley Davidson, perfect.

"Yes Hal thank you but telling time is a special skill of mine so thank you, thank you very much." Damn Harley, the guard, Hal, got really flustered, aww poor guy must have a crush on doctor. She waved him away before turning back to me, "sorry about that, he does it everytime, I guess he thinks that I get too invested and lose track of time."

"Nah don't worry about it, it's obvious that he likes you," she cast a quick questioning glance at the door, "but I like the name, Harleen, it suits you, mind if I call you Harley though?"

She coughed to hide her embarrassment, "uh, yeah, yeah sure, I mean nobody has called me that before so it's nice, I mean if that's what you want to call me. If it makes you more comfortable than yeah, yeah absolutely."

"Ok, I'm gonna guess that you don't have many friends in your life do you?"

Her head bowed as she made a few notes, "I thought I was the only one allowed to psychoanalyze around here."

"Are you being defensive cause I'm right?"

I could see her make a multitude of circles around something specific on the clipboard, "this session isn't about me Scarlett…"

"Yeah but it hasn't been all about me either." I think that's a pretty good point to make with only eight minutes remaining in the session.

She pointed the pencil at me, "that's an excellent point, I'll be sure to keep that in mind with our next session." I smell sarcasm.

"What if I don't want another session?"

"It's mandated Scarlett."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, let me rephrase that...what if I don't want you again, Harley?" Am I always such a bitch?

I could hear her make an annoyed and maybe disappointed noise from the back of her throat. "Really? Well I'm really sorry I, I thought that the session was going fairly well considering everything." What do you mean by everything?

"Nothing against you Harley, I'm just hoping that maybe if I go through enough psychiatrists then maybe they'll stop with the pointless sessions. It's just a theory, hopefully it works." Odds are that it doesn't work, especially with my luck. When I think about the time that I've had to spend in this place it makes me want to slam my head into a fucking wall.

She nodded her head while she made a few more notes on her clipboard before wedging her pencil in her clipboard and setting it down on the table beside her, wait does that mean she's done? I could have sworn we had a few more minutes. "Let me just say this right now Scarlett, so there's no confusion between us. I know you're not insane, hell anybody with eyes can see that, but because of some bad luck you got thrown in here. I don't care who you pissed off, I don't care if you have a vendetta against the whole fucking world because of what you've gone through, I don't care that you have no desire to be here because everybody in this building is the same way. What I do care about is that my goal has always been to help people, no matter how difficult they make it, and trust me I can tell that you're going to be the one who makes it difficult for me, I'm fine with that. As long as you understand that I'm not going anywhere Scar. I want to help you, now that help entails me clearing you of mental health and you going to Blackgate or anywhere better than here. You have to help me though Scar, help me to help you, eye for an eye, tit for tat, all that shit. If you don't, and I really hope you think about that carefully, if you don't than you rot away in Arkham for God knows how long, it's your choice." She looked at the clock on the wall, "and with that being said I shall see you at our next session, have a good day Scar...GUARDS!"

To say I was in shock is a bit of an understatement, but I can definitely say that I have never been given a better motivational speech. I kept thinking about her words on my way back to cell block A, would it really be so bad to accept a bit of help? What if she's playing me though? This could all be bullshit to build her career, that's probably exactly what it is. Fuck psychiatrists and their fucking mind games! At least I've got time to think about this before I have to see her again, assumptions are better made after one meeting, at least that's what I was always told. After my not so long trek I was shoved back inside of my cell and uncuffed before making my to my little cot.

I was giving my scalp a gentle massage before I heard a knocking sound causing me to look back up.

There I saw the Joker across the way leaning against the back wall of his cell, and he had his hands clasped in front of him as though he were used to have something to rest them on. He gave me another one of his large smiles, "so how did your first time go doll?" I could tell that there was hidden innuendo in that question by the way his lip curled on one side.

I unbuttoned the top part of my orange jumpsuit and took my arms out of the sleeves so that it hung at my waist, exposing my white tank top underneath. I laid down on my small cot with my legs pressed against the wall and combed my fingers through my hair that was splayed out on the mattress. I looked over at him and gave a small smirk, "equivalent to torture."

He walked forward "oh do tell me more."

Dontcha just love establishing relationships? I hope you enjoyed the chapter and everything that came with it. As always if you have any questions please don't hesitate to message me. Happy reading!