"Daddy, daddy look!"
The thudding of tiny bare feet against a wooden porch immediately caught the attention of the man sitting on a wobbly stool with black combat boots in his calloused hands. His gentle, squinting eyes seemed to brighten into an impossible shade of baby blue as soon as they landed on the bouncing mass of blonde curls in a cream summer dress. How he wished he could spend more time with her! She was growing up too fast, changing right in front of his eyes and yet he could never witness that moment himself…
"Harley, baby, what is it?" She stopped right in front of him then, her soft cheeks flushed from the exertion as some of those flaxen locks stuck to her sweaty forehead. She was hardly taller than him when he was kneeling and so Officer Arnold Quinzel could see the little smile tugging on her rosebud mouth as she happily revealed to him the content of her closed palms.
"Will it live, daddy? Can we help him?" Officer Quinzel gently put aside his half-cleaned boots before carefully taking the trembling red breast robin from his daughter's muddy hands.
One glance at the young bird revealed it to him all. With a sad sigh, the aging man shook his head: "I'm afraid it is too late, Harley. The poor creature is badly broken. See here? The wings are almost shattered." As he expected, the little girl's lower lip started to quiver as the light in her blue eyes, eyes that were so similar to his own, slowly faded away. He put one tanned arm around her tiny shoulders. They still hold a bit of baby fat on them and it comforted him whenever she stumbled into his warm embrace. Perhaps she wasn't growing up so fast after all. Perhaps there was still time, time for them to be together like a family should…
"Now you mustn't be too sad, baby. What did I tell you? Nature has its own ways. It has been decided for this little fellow. He will go to a better place, somewhere with an eternal summer and berries that are ripe all year round."
"But I don't want him to go anywhere," cried the girl with a frown, almost stomping her foot in white beat up sandals. "I want him to stay here with me. He's my friend now!"
The man ran a hand through his greying black hair with a sigh. "Look baby. If you really want-"
"Yes please!"
"We could try help your little friend. But there is not much you and I can do. I want you to remember that. There are things in life you can't change, sweetheart. No matter how much you'll try. I don't want you to cry too much if this doesn't end well, understood?"
"Sir, yes sir." She was already jumping around then, reciting all the items and first aid essentials they would need for the rescue mission. He could see the excitement flooding her soft body, enlivening her speech and most of all, bringing back that overjoyed smile he adored so much.
"….and we could place him near the living room window. That way, he could always see the cherry tree over at Mr Murray's place."
Arnold Quinzel observed his girl's beaming face with a shadow of grief around his wrinkled eyes. As much as his daughter's unreserved kindness was an endearing trait, he knew such an open heart was forever in danger of sacrificing more than it would receive in return.
"What kind of a question is that, Doc-tor?"
He was staring at her with a wild gleam in his eyes, the pale skin where his eyebrows should had been raised in faked confusion. She'd amused him, she could tell. It was written all over his slightly pursing, parched lips.
It was a cruel little smile, one she'd noticed he had reserved only for her. To tease her. Pain her. Humiliate her. And yet, it was a smile she awaited with impatience, one which she longed for in those cold, grey days when she wasn't authorized to enter the ground level of the facility. Such days were just empty, empty like those two, bottomless orbs that could pin her on the spot and chill her to the bone. She couldn't tell whether it was due to their respective coldness or the warmth that washed over her confused frame like a tidal wave whenever her green haired patient let out a low, reverberating chuckle at yet another of her failed attempts to collect herself.
Who knew heat could feel like ice in her stomach too?
The blonde gulped, her throat gone dry once more: "H-have you?" It was hopeless, hopeless to… And yet she did. She voiced those ridiculous words, and she hated herself for it. Of course he would laugh! Of course he would mock her, joke about her hurt face… It angered her. It made her furious. He made her despise him. She wanted to despise him - for this, for all the things he had done: to her, to Gotham, even to himself… but she couldn't. As much as she tried, as much as she wished she had it in herself, she couldn't hate the grinning man opposite her. Pain. It was causing her too much pain. Pleasure. Was there any pleasure left in their sessions? Just pain. Pleasure and pain.
They mixed, intertwined to the point she couldn't tell one from the other anymore.
Maybe it was for the best. Numb was good. Numb meant no fighting back. She was too tired for that… So tired.
"Have I ever been in love? Is that what you wanna know, Doctor Quinzel?"
She had to clench her knees together to stop her legs from trembling, her clammy palms ruining the pressed front of her white coat. He was right about her. Again. Did she?
Did she really? Why did she ask him then? Why? The blonde took in a shaky breath, the Arkham Asylum ID feeling like a hangman's noose around her long neck.
Joker laughed softly again before pointing at himself in one grand, fluid movement: "Do I look like a love dove to you?" She saw a flash of silver teeth and then he was there, leaning against the polished table between them with eyes rolled towards the ceiling. She felt she could breathe easier then. The whites of his eyes couldn't roam her face.
"Isn't that part of your diag-nonsense, Doc? Unable to form true emotional attachment to other people. Your very own, beautiful words?" That smile again. Slow and agonising as ever. Why? How? How did she end up at this point?
"Or are you now doubting your professional judgement? Is that the reason behind this unlikely interrogation?"
Questions. If he just stopped asking those questions! He kept showing her the mirror when she didn't want to see the reflection. Was she really doubting herself? Was that it? Or was she hoping?
Hoping he would tell her she was indeed wrong about her assessment of him?
A chance. All she wanted was a chance. A bit of hope. A bit of hope that it wasn't all lost, that there was future… That he saw it too.
Harleen's vision clouded again. The contrasting images of acid green, navy walls and his pristine white t-shirt rolled around in her tear-stung eyes like coloured glass in a kaleidoscope. Stupid. She was so stupid… She didn't deserve the degree. She didn't deserve the internship, the acknowledgments. She sometimes felt she didn't deserve to live too.
Joker clicked his tongue in impatience. "Ah, you are awfully quite today, Doctor. If you want an answer, you'll need to elaborate." The blonde looked up in confusion, baby blue eyes meeting ice.
And in that one moment when she saw how those red lips stretched into a sly smirk…when she caught that knowing twitch of its corners, the perceptive, sharp look in his eyes… - she felt her breathing hitch in her throat.
Did he know?
Could he tell?Just the very thought of his suspicions made the young blonde in glasses sick to her stomach.
"What is love, Doctor Quinzel? Define it for me."
She wanted to get up then and runaway. Escape that miserable room with its dark furniture, dim lights and conversations that haunted her long after she swiped her card at the exit and drove home with his whispers still echoing in her head. She wanted to flee but her limbs felt as if they were made of lead.
What was she supposed to tell him? How was she supposed to explain? Damn him and his moronic laugh, his messed up growls she could always perfectly recollect as she lied in her bed – alone, always alone.
Was it madness? Was this thing, this horrible, terrifying pull she felt towards this man just a part of natural workings of a human mind? Could it be…could it be it?
And if so, what kind of a monster did that make her?
"C'mon Doctor. You must have been in love before. You know what it feels like."
Just be quite… Just shut up. Please. Please, please. Oh god, just make him shut up…
Harleen felt her mouth move but the sound of her own voice reached her ears as if through water. "It's like… Love is-,…" Deep breath. "It's like you feel you are not just yourself anymore. You are them and they are you. You are one and the same. And you would do anything for them. Anything…You…you would change for them," she heard herself press painfully.
He was watching her with an unreadable look on his pale face and it seemed to her that his eyes had gone several shades darker. They were almost black now: deep, black pools that drew her in like a moth to a flame, yet she knew the fire in his intense gaze was anything but warm. "Really?" he challenged lowly. "Someone would do that? Even for a guy like me?"
She nodded stiffly, trying to calm her breathing as beads of sweat formed on her furrowed brows. How can he not…? Hasn't she showed him clearly enough? No! No, no, no…NO, she did not want to...She cannot show him, she can't… Has she? Has she already done that?
The heavy silence in the room stretched for several long minutes before the green haired man in front of her raised the tip of his tongue to touch the sharp edges of his grill. His eyes never left hers as he groaned and shifted in his seat to lean closer. "In that case, doll face," he moaned with a growing leer, "consider me to be madly in love."
The living room window was left open, just like it had been for weeks. Strays of blonde hair danced in the cold morning breeze, whipping the wet face that stared into the wide fields of green stretching behind an uneven, red fence.
He tried to comfort her but it was to no avail. The sight of the small, shivering frame slumped against the window sill was making his own heart heavy with grief. Poor little Harleen. Her mother had already tried bringing her favourite sweet treats but no amount of pies was able to patch the hole in their girl's chest. The officer smiled sadly, hand resting against her little fists. She was just too gentle, too fragile for this world…
Little robin recovered well. It surprised everyone except the little girl who diligently fed him dried raisins and checked his make-shift bandages before her own breakfasts. She was the one who took them off weeks later and watched the feathery ball attempt to stretch its healed wings for the first time. He should had seen in then, mused Officer Quinzel.
He should had started to prepare her for it, explain the inevitability of it all. But it was hard, so hard to talk to Harley about things she didn't want to see. What was to the world an already established fact, to her it was only a subject of change.
He rubbed her shoulders, feeling the shuddering heaves she took in between the sobs. The wailing quietened though and soon the frowning man felt it was time to breach the subject. Gently, he pried his daughter away from the cold window sill and supported her tired, damp body against his own solid form. "I want you to listen to me very carefully, Harleen Frances Quinzel."
He waited until her red-rimmed, desolate eyes found his face before continuing a bit less sternly:
"Harley, baby. Do not ever cling to a wild thing like this. Please. They don't understand or appreciate love, my dear. They only grow stronger from it and before you'll know, they'll be running back to the wilderness."
Chapter's up!
I decided to postpone the reveal of the new character to later chapters but I hope you enjoyed this one with the flashback instead. I really wanted to include something showing more of Harleen's hopelessly self-sacrificing character.
Also, the bird she rescues as a child – a red breast robin, is actually the symbol of death. In my own little universe, her father who as you can tell was a police officer, dies shortly afterwards. I know, I am very cruel to her but it makes perfect sense to me that she would have this amazing relationship with her parent only to lose him very young… Daddy issues in adulthood? I would say yes.
When it comes to Mister J, I say the tension is high in the air and the bubble is about to burst very soon. So be ready!
AND huge thanks to all those follows and favourites, you guys rock! And of course, a special THANK YOU to all those of you who reviewed: KillerJack, LnknInsanity, ahxlly, hisuichanxx and Casey525, who actually reviewed every single chapter! Wow. Thank you so much for taking all that time!
Your feedback means a great deal to me, so please keep the reviews up guys!
Thanks for reading!
ZeldaK
