Chapter 5 – Garden of Red Roses
((A/N: Just want to place a trigger warning; this chapter has some dark things happen and implied death of children.))
Harleen's eyes were heavy. Like they'd been glued together. It was hard to open them so she let her mind wander. Where had she been? Where was she now? That's right. She'd completed her first shock therapy session. She could recall the minutes leading up to it, the minutes during the agony, maybe even the ones after. But they were incomplete and in the wrong order. Some scenes even played out two or three times in different ways. Her mind had been turned to pudding.
Pudding. Pudding. She liked that word. Where was her puddin'? Where was Mr J? Forcing her body to work she managed to pry apart her heavy eyes but immediately clenched them shut with a startled shout. Why was the world so bright? Like his vivid green hair. His pale, white skin.
"Miss Quinzel." A patient voice called softly from nearby. She heard someone enter her room and tried again. There was a nurse, not a psychiatric nurse though. This was a hospital. "It's good to see you're awake. I'll just get Dr Arkham. He's been waiting for you to wake up." The nurse explained.
When Jeremiah returned with her Harleen could see he had gone through hell. Covered in dust and bruises. Somehow he'd missed the massacre, disappearing under debris. There was something cold in his gaze.
"I thought you were making good progress Harleen." Arkham began his voice thick with accusation. She stared dumbly back at him trying to appear the innocent, ditzy blonde; gaping like a fish out of water. "Do you know how many staff members he killed on the way out?" The question was more a threat. No sympathy for her condition. She brought tears to her eyes. Were they real or were they an act? She tried to recall the escape but only saw pretty fireworks.
"I…understand he tortured you." Jeremiah began but there was no pity in his voice, no consideration for the fact that waiting for her to wake only to bite into her was unprofessional not to mention the effect it would have on her mental health. "But I'm afraid to say I have issued your termination and put in a request that your medical license be revoked."
The words were a bombshell. Harleen stopped seeing as he left the room. Her puddin' had left her, she'd lost her job, her friends. There was nothing left. She barely even comprehended the world around her in the days that followed. She was released, referred to a psychiatrist that she never saw and she went home.
Why had he left her behind? He loved her. He did….but then, then there was that look. That moment. The one where she realised he was so much deeper, darker. Things she hadn't begun to explore, things he hadn't let her. Of course he wouldn't. He trusted no one. But he could trust her. She would prove it to him. This was a test, it had to be.
Harleen stood up from the floor. She'd been crying. She had to make sure she looked nice but also ready to do what he asked. She put on her purple shirt and jeans, her boots. She would show him.
It was easy to find the bar again. It was different now, obvious that he was there. Bright lights now circled it; there was loud music, laughter. More people than last time. She strode in confidently.
He sat upstairs in a booth that overlooked the whole place. A preferred bird's eye view. Frost had brought him a few men, three of which were new players, ones that had heard of him and were ready to swear obedience. The fourth was a traitor. His lie cake was bad, drenched in the words that he was merely saving Joker's place when he took over parts of the Clown Prince's territory.
Joker wasn't here to broker deals with them though. They were going to learn that it was a good idea to ally themselves with the Clown Prince of Crime. Biding his time he started with jokes, his unsettling laugh that made them shift uncomfortably as he listed ideas on what he wanted to do for Batman. The masked vigilante had given him a wonderful stay in a nice little place; it would be rude not to send a gift basket in thanks.
There was a murmur down below that he casually glanced to then ignored. If it was too important Frost would bring whoever had surprised his goons. He turned back to Jimmy. Good ol' Jimmy who looked like he wanted to end the pleasantries and leave as soon as possible. With a snarl as he brought a loving arm around his ex-recruit's shoulders he prepared his next punchline only to be interrupted.
"Sir." Frost's voice beckoned making Joker look up irritably with a growl. Frost knew better however it would appear after being ordered to spare someone he wasn't sure what approach to take. Joker's surprise left his angry stare vacant. Standing beside his right hand man was one Harleen Quinzel. That cautious, adoring smile on her face, that look in her eyes that begged to be near him. What was this? He almost laughed. This idiot was still following him.
Her heart rose when he looked at her. Whether it was a sneer, that vacant stare where he hid his true intentions or amusement with that laugh that made everyone else shift in their seats, all of it was beautiful to her. As long as he was looking at her he could make any expression he wanted; she didn't care.
"Well Dr Quin-zel. I find your presence here a little…shocking." He said playfully with that wolfish smile. She grinned at his joke, giggling slightly and his face fell. Perhaps he had intended to intimidate her.
"Just Harley is fine. My license is probably getting revoked." She said calmly. She was the centre of attention. She liked that. She wanted more but more than that she wanted him to look at her. He ran his hand through his emerald locks.
"Maybe it was a little early to release some of those patients. Jerry would have been quite right to after what they did." He teased baring those silver teeth as his eyes squinted like he was giving sincere advice. When she still didn't falter he lost his good mood for playing. What was wrong with her?
"So like a lost puppy you followed me home?" He asked brows raised because it was actually a statement. Her chin stuck up stubbornly.
"It's where I belong." She declared. The men around her laughed before Joker did though he laughed the loudest, gesturing to the people around them as he spun in a theatrical circle.
"You belong here?" This was a punchline he hadn't expected. He felt like a kid on Christmas who'd gotten a toy they'd only ever dreamed of having. "Harley, Harley, Harley. These men kill for fun. You couldn't even kill for purpose." He said it affectionately. He was beginning to wonder just how far he could push her again. She was bouncing back, always bouncing back after him.
Harleen faltered for a second. He was right, she hadn't killed. She'd watched people die. She'd tried to prevent it with her work. This was her next test, she knew it. Her chest tightened; could she do it though? She tried to think of the way her father had hit the people around them in the riot. Flinching at the meaty impacts. Red roses. Daddy's little monster.
Joker grinned. He'd proven his point and she had disappointed him. She couldn't have that so she stepped forward desperately making him look back again. A slow smile spread on his face like he'd just connected some dots. Casually he slunk back to the man he'd been hanging off like they were best friends.
"Harleen. This is Jimmy. Jimmy is an old friend." He introduced dragging the man who tried to tell the Joker to back off but the fear garbled the words. He knew what was coming. The others didn't. They sat stunned and afraid. The renowned unpredictable nature of the infamous Joker was on display. The warning not to turn on him.
"Jimmy." He began shaking the young man a little with his hands on each shoulder before placing him on his knees in the middle of their little audience. "Jimmy decided to take more than his share while I was away." Then Joker stepped over to Harleen, hovering close, breathing down her neck. Her skin shivered, she swayed toward him but before they could touch he was gone pulling a customised pistol from a holster at his side.
"Kill him." He said simply holding out the gun to her. Eyes wide, hair falling forward slightly as she stared back. Her hands were shaking when she took the pistol from him. She tried to remain calm, composed. All eyes were on her, no one was going to interfere here. Not even the men that had come to protect Jimmy. She nodded her head slightly but couldn't find the words to speak. She'd never fired a gun before. She looked it over and then looked at the man kneeling on the ground. His eyes pleaded for mercy. Her hand shook. She couldn't do it.
"He's a bad man Harleen. He's killed a lot of people. Done a lot of really bad things. You can't even kill him." Joker half purred half snarled. He was highlighting to her that she wasn't a part of his world. Wasn't even a blip. He began to turn away back to his men ready to plan a new way to take Jimmy out. He was turning away from her. Don't look away from me. Don't look away. Don't look away. Don't look away!
She fired. There was a loud bang. Red rose. Her father smiling proudly. But her eyes didn't look at the man on the floor. They watched Joker's back as he turned slightly to look at the man bleeding out like someone glancing at a passing interest. But then surprise had set in and he looked back to her with wide eyes and his brow raised.
"Well…you beat me to the punch. I guess its good I hadn't written my speech about traitors yet." He jested as he slowly moved back over to her. He moved in close enough to make her shudder again lips brushing close. But it wasn't enough. She hadn't proven herself yet. He took the gun from her hands and stepped back.
Joker found he had become fascinated by her after that night. So had everyone else. This pretty blonde woman that everyone else called batshit insane. He got Frost to teach her how to fight, how to use a gun. She was remarkably good at it. She showed some unique moves that caught everyone's attention and without him asking, explained her background in gymnastics. She was still so orderly, moving with a purpose. That was boring. So he pushed her.
Today in their newest base of operations he'd set up his latest experiment to see how far she would go for him. He twirled the baseball bat from his escape playfully walking into the bank like he already owned the place dressed in his flashy purple coat. He smiled and held out his arms theatrically never mind the mini gun in his other hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Joker began as his gang shot down the tellers and security guards leaving just the civilians who had been unlucky enough to make their deposits today. Frost came from the back with Harleen. She refused to acknowledge the carnage around her by focusing on him. He growled irritably watching her from the corner of his eye. She needed to embrace it.
She didn't hear his words. The bubblegum colours shot through the world and she was at a circus with her parents. There was a panda, and a smiling man. A clown that made her laugh and laugh. Then she heard her name and she was in a bank. The man she loved was looking at her again. She smiled eagerly for him.
"Jimmy, Jimmy was too easy. But now, now I'll know if you really do belong." He said the word like it was a favourite joke. Had he chosen his favourite joke now?
She didn't get to analyse as he came over and for the first time since they'd held hands he touched her. She breathed in sharply, surprised by the contact. He'd made a point of always flitting out of reach but now he put the bat deliberately in her hands, cold skin on hers. Her nerve endings came alive and joy filled her chest.
"I used this bat to brutally murder one of your co-workers. Remember that?" He asked, leaning in close and whispering conspiratorially. "Now you're going to use it to murder that family, that one there." He informed her pointing to a family of four sitting on the ground. The mother was weeping, shaking her head and begging for mercy as she hid her youngest behind her.
Harleen's face fell. Her stomach dipped. How could he ask this of her? How could he be so cruel? Her hands clenched the bat like a lifeline. She said she'd prove herself to him. She had to, she had to. But her body wouldn't move.
So this was her limit. This was where she drew the line. Rolling his eyes in irritation that his game had ended so quickly he stepped in front of her searching her eyes for that devotion. How fickle was it?
"Are their lives worth more to you?" He asked pushing her buttons. Desperation crossed her eyes.
"But Mr J." He growled silencing her pleas. She'd disappointed him. She tried to reach out, to beg forgiveness, to plead for more chances, for a different route. There was a sharp pain and she was knocked to the ground. He'd hit her. She felt the welt stinging on her cheek as tears blurred her eyes. She came to realise something on the floor. Looking up through her messed hair she saw her mother lying on the ground across from her. Black and blue, black and blue and red. There was a memory as her mother put the dryer on, sitting Harleen on the table. She had a black eye.
"No normal life for me." She echoed her mother's words. No more disappointing her puddin'. She reached for the bat that had fallen with her and pushed herself up glaring down at the family now. They'd made her fail him, they'd nearly cost her him. A garden of red roses, the sound her father made with his fists. Mr J having fun in a backroom she could barely see as she was strapped down.
Joker stopped in his slow walk out with his men and the cash. There was a noise; an odd noise usually heard only when he was getting carried away. He turned around. Harley was splattered with paint. No, not paint. A manic grin broke across his face. The game wasn't over yet.
He pushed, pulled, prodded, poked, and smacked. Testing the boundaries, testing the limits of her devotion. She came back; she bounced back like the handball thrown at the wall. He saw her expressions change, becoming more and more unguarded. She wasn't hiding how strongly she desired him in the slightest. Eventually it became boring. What could he do to break her? What was the final straw? He still owed Batman a gift basket.
Harleen on the other hand survived how she could in this new world. She saw her father in the corner of her eyes nearly all the time. She heard her mother's voice when the man she loved hit her. Red roses blooming everywhere. Pretty colours flickering in her vision as she tried to follow her memories but they were never the same. They fluttered like candlelight. A bat in her hand, home-run. Black and blue and red.
Sometimes when the psychosis subsided she'd head home. She'd cry, she'd swallow some pills. She'd wonder why she wasn't on a wanted list with cops at her door. Maybe they didn't know yet. Joker was the focus after all. All eyes on him but just as long as his eyes were on her.
Mr J liked her hair out so she didn't tie it up today. She put on her glasses, a blue dress shirt, loose and allowing the cool breeze to brush through. Tight dress pants and low heeled boots. He'd told her to look nice. This had to be her final test, it had to be. One more trial and then he'd see. She'd make him see and then he'd finally let her in. She grabbed her bat on the way out the door.
Joker checked in with Frost. Plans were going smoothly. They'd confirmed that Batman was enjoying the little play he'd prepared for him on the other side of Gotham. Perfect. He hoped Bats enjoyed the show; he'd worked so hard on it. But now, now the fishhook was stretched taught because the other act had found a little bird. They had to dress up birdie nice to go in the gift basket.
He was disturbed from his roaming thoughts when the usual murmurs spread through his goons. Harleen had arrived. Some whispers of appreciation to her figure, others commented on her insanity. What kind of crazy bitch devoted her whole being to the Joker? What kind of crazy bitch indeed.
"Hello Harleen." He purred with that growl that unsettled most people. But she smiled eagerly like it was some cooing noise of affection. His grin changed to a snarl. Old hat.
"How can I help puddin'?" She asked eagerly. He could see in her eyes the rest of the world was drowned out. All she could see was green and purple.
"We're about to get a very special guest, a very special guest indeed. See that building over there?" Joker began theatrically, gesturing widely as he directed her gaze to a decrepit structure on the harbour. She made a little noise of surprise like she hadn't noticed it.
"Do you want me to put on dinner for our guest Mr J?" She asked. Harleen checked herself after this, head swaying. She was losing it again. Black and blue and red. His grin was irritated. She pouted. She was playing with his joke, why didn't he want her in on it? He had to let her in.
"Well, sweet cakes. You're dessert. He has to go through the main course to get to you." He purred. There. She faltered. She would always falter. The good little girl hidden under the mind he'd shattered. But devotion shoved it down again. Boring. It was time to throw away this toy.
Harleen grew to learn that Joker and his thugs had set up a series of traps throughout the building all eventually leading to a chair that she was to be strapped to as bait for their new friend. There was a hole in the floor nearby, the level below half submerged in water. This building was falling apart. Happy home.
When Joker was gone, no longer able to observe her and see her smile fade she let it drop. She needed her medication. She needed that hazy numbness of the pills. She began to call out asking for a bathroom break but no one heard her. If they did they were soon distracted.
Harleen was alerted to the guest's arrival by a loud explosion. Whoops, he'd triggered a party favour. She giggled a little then stopped. Why were there tears in her eyes? She couldn't cry. No, not for this man. Not for this one. If she cried for someone else Mr J would be mad.
"How's my little princess?" Her father asked. They were at a fair. He'd given her cotton candy. His knuckles were still red no matter how many times he washed them.
"What do I do daddy?" She asked but then her father puffed away like he was made of smoke. Then her mother was there. A big bruise on her face, another on her neck. A vague recollection of a necklace her puddin' had given her, the man she loved. Purple necklace from the man in the purple jacket.
"You love him. No matter what you love him." Her mother said it without conviction. But Harleen's heart swelled. She did love her puddin'. She'd show him he could trust her.
"Are you okay?" The young voice broke through her reverie. Harleen laughed and cried. If this bothered him he didn't show it, the man in the mask. He worked quick to unstrap her from the chair. He let his guard down. It was short work to swap places and then she'd clamped the restraints over his wrists, straddling his lap. The last of her humanity met his eye.
"I'm sorry." She whispered flinching when she heard that slow, loud laugh as Joker emerged with his thugs.
"I got myself a little birdie. Won't you tell me your secrets little bird?" The Clown Prince asked performing as always with grand gestures and exaggerated words. The little boy cursed, struggling against his bindings. Then Joker was in his face, growling and laughing. They removed the mask, noted who he was and asked questions about Batman. But it didn't really matter to Joker. Knowing Bats' identity was a passing fancy. He didn't need to know the masked crusader's real name to have fun with him. And he was going to send such a beautiful gift basket.
He fired close range into Robin's shoulders, another in his leg. He let his thugs vent frustrations with fists. The cries of pain were a beautiful requiem. Then he brought out the clamps connected to the car battery. Last little test before he got rid of his toy.
"Doc-tor Quin-zel. Would you be so kind as to help us floss his brain?" He requested, holding one clamp out to her. Harleen took a breath. Her body began to tremble. She'd already gone past the point of no return, what was a little more? She tried to reason with herself but that only made it worse. So instead she watched the black and blue, the red. Roses blooming on his fancy suit, red Robin. She swallowed, earning a wink. A smile spread across her face. He'd approved. She was barely conscious of what she did as technicolour memories played themselves back to her, staggered and broken. How long had it been since he escaped? How long since she'd fallen into this dark pit with no way out? He loved it here so she should too.
Little bird was a mess when Joker was done, clinging to the last little edge of life with ragged, wheezing breaths. Harleen focused on Mr J. He was shaking a paint can. He needed to make sure Robin didn't survive, sweet little bird making pretty music. No room for error. Gift baskets had to be made up proper. But the final blow, the final act of her play.
"Harleen." He beckoned, holding out his gun to her. That vague look crossed her face, the one that irritated him. Compartmentalising the horrors she performed. Stupid little thing. "Time to put pretty birdie to sleep." He commanded though it was said as if it was fact. She smiled pleasantly.
Robin was seized by painful coughs when he tried to look up at the woman. She hadn't looked like someone who would fall in with this madman. She still didn't. So unassuming. Even now he saw it in her eyes, some last whisper of humanity. He tried to plead to it. But it was too little too late. He didn't even hear the gun fire.
A single tear slid down Harleen's face. Batman would want her now. But she'd done it. She'd proved herself. She'd done the worst thing imaginable. She'd helped end the life of one of the men trying to fix this wretched place. For that brief moment she stopped watching the man she loved. There was a voice screaming at her, screaming so loud. Make it stop, make it stop. Then she steeled herself. Chin out stubbornly she looked around the room, men preparing it for their next guest as Mr J left finished up the gift basket, a card with a sweet message attached.
"Puddin'." She called out softly. Joker froze before looking at her from the corner of his eye with a sneer on his face. He was done playing with her.
"Goodbye Harleen." She barely had enough time to register confusion. He took the gun from her then placed one of his hands on her chest and shoved. She had ended up in front of the window. The glass shattered as her body went through it, glitter dancing before her eyes as she began to fall. He still wouldn't let her in. She'd proved herself. She had. Let me in. Let me in. Let. Me. In.
((A/N: Here we are, updating late again. The next update might take a bit longer too but the story is getting closer to its end.
This one got very dark but that's what I wanted. I wanted to highlight that though Joker and Harley get romanticised a fair bit, they're still twisted, dark people that do very bad things. They're dressed like cartoon villains but they're a lot more messed up. I hope I got that across without turning people off my story.
I find it way too fun writing Harleen's deteriorating psyche and doing fragmented sentences. Thank you for reviews, favourites, and follows. As always, constructive criticism is cherished.))