Chapter 3.
*back at Arkham Asylum*
"I'm so sorry we rushed you yesterday, especially with all the drama that went on, we are going to show you your office and get you squared away here now." Dahlia's words were ringing through my head. Yesterday I actually never got to see my office or anything of the sort, I was too busy dealing with other shit and was sent home after. Short day, still felt relatively long considering all that happened. Dahlia and I walked to the end of the hall away from the offices. "So, this is your office. We do keep it away from the adminstration and reception, of course. Not so much for a 'patient confidentiality' because well, we deal with the mentally unstable, but so you feel like you have enough personal space to do your work without interruptions. Any time a patient comes in for therapy, they're usually restrained, and they are always escorted to and from by a guard." She set the keys down on the table. I looked around the room, relatively small windows that were barred of course to avoid possible escapes. The table was metal, as were the chairs, how am I suppose to be remotely comfortable while doing my sessions? I noticed a locked door in a corner. "I also forgot to mention, the room we're in now, IS the therapy room and only the therapy room. Behind that door, is your office. We try to keep your safety in mind, as well as patient records private of course from other patients. We needn't any prying eyes where they don't belong." I walked over to the door, she picked up the ring of keys and followed in suite.
click, click.
As she unlocked the door I began to drink in my new atmosphere. The place I would be spending a great majority of my time. A nice mahogany bookshelf was against one of the walls. A matching mahogany desk sat close to it in the center of the room with a small call button to page for patients to come in. I ran my fingers along the desk to feel its finish, super smooth, I thought. There was also a rather large office chair behind the desk, that looked more comfortable than what was advertised to me in the therapy room. "So, this is it." she chirped while also looking around the room. "I know it's not much, but feel free to add your own personal touches if you wish. This is where you'll spend most of your time of course, we prefer you not take your work home with you - in any form or fashion." She became stern towards the end of her statement, probably referring back to the Quinzel/Joker incident.
I looked over at her, "Dahlia, I can promise you that won't happen with me. I NEED this job -"
"I prefer actions over words, Misses Clark. Please do not dissapoint me." she retorted. I nodded. "Remember your key code for the doors, your office and the therapy room have the same code you chose your first day with Claudia. I apologize for my lack of prescense my lunch was a bit longer than I intended it to be. I'm the only one who has keys in this building, and no one but me has access to them. That's why everyone has key codes. So, don't forget yours. I'll leave you to settle in." She turned and strolled out of the room, closing the therapy room door behind her.
The office was pretty minimalist, but so was my own apartment. I sat my laptop bag and suitcase down on my new desk. Absolutely no windows in here? Jesus. The space was pretty gloomy, but oh well. I sighed, and unlatched my suitcase. I reached in and pulled out my new name plate, I hadn't had one made until I began to practice with my degree. It made me feel important, as silly as it sounded.
I then heard a blip from the therapy room door and looked through my open office door to see who it was.
"Misses Clark," Jackson's deep voice bellowed through the room. "We have a patient who's wanting to meet his new doctor. You'll be pleased to meet him I'm sure." Sarcasm dripped from his voice.
"Of course." I replied, closing my office door.
"He's down in isolation." Jackson held the therapy room door open for me, closing it behind him. I hadn't been giving much of a tour of Arkham, considering I would be spending most of my time in my office like Dahlia said it didn't matter much. I looked around as we continued on our way, the isolation ward had eight rooms, a couple feets length away from each other. The doors were solid metal, bolted, with one small opening for food trays more than likely. No windows either, which was understandable.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha!
A screeching laugh echoed in my ears. Apparently the rooms don't muffle much noise, sadly. I already knew who I was about to have the "pleasure" of meeting. Someone I rather not have met already, but knew I needed to to do my job. He was going to be one of my main therapy patients - naturally. Jackson keyed his door code into the pad, it squeaked loudly as it opened.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Looking straight at me, with a smile on his pale white painted face, was the Joker.
"The new doctor...mmm..." he clicked his tongue at me. "What's your name, sweetie?"
"You can call me Dr. Clark. I'm the new psychologist."
"Of course, of course." he walked over to me. Jackson was still at the door, standing behind me.
"Oh, my best friend. Mr. guard. I call you that since I don't know your real name!" he yelled at Jackson.
Jackson rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "He's usually antagonistic like that."
"Oh, my, no not antagonistic!" he stifled a laugh. "Just, honest." Joker was standing right in front of me at this point.
"What is it you needed, Joker? I do have patients to take care of. And if you have me here just to play mind games, then I'm leaving-" I turned to walk out, Jackson was already in the hallway. A cold hand reached out to me. I turned and looked Joker dead in the eye.
"Darling," he rubbed his thumb against my arm, "I just hope to make your...stay as comfortable as possible." I yanked my arm away and scowled at him. "Whatever you mean by that I'm not sure, nor do I really care honestly." I followed Jackson out the door, letting him close it and lock Joker back inside.
Just wait and you'll find out! I'm a man of mystery honey! Ha ha ha ha ha!
"I'm going back to my office now, I've got work to do. Files to read over, etc." I said to Jackson. He nodded in understanding.
I noticed a new piece of paper on my desk, more like a packet actually. It was a new patient pysch evaluation packet, more than likely for Harleen. I quickly skimmed it over, and I was right. I knew every new patient had to go through a psych evaluation within the first the days of admission, to know what procedures, treatments, and precautions needed to be taken. Each patient of course, was unique in their own psycho way. I flipped all the pages back over, and pressed down on my call button. "I need a guard to bring Harleen Quinzel to my office, for psych evaluation." The guards didn't carry walkies, or anything to really reply back to me, so I waited for a few minutes.
knock, knock.
I went over to the therapy room door, it was a guard I hadn't yet met. A muscularly built, Mexican looking man with raven black hair and a five o'clock shadow. "I got what ya ordered, doc." he chuckled.
"Nice to see ya again, doc! Did ya miss me?!" Harleen giggled. I scowled back at her crossing my arms over my chest, I tilted my chin upwards.
"I've got it from here." I looked towards the guard. He nodded and pushed Harleen inside.
"Have fun, doc." he retorted, walking away.
I motioned towards a chair, "You know the drill, Harleen. You've been here, worked here, if you could call it that here before anyways."Her smile immediately dropped and turned into a glare. She shuffled over to the chair, and I sat down across from her.
"So, you know, within the first three days of admission we do our psych evaluation of each patient."
She scoffed back, "of course. It's protocol."
"Well since you know so much, should I just let you fill out yourself?" I smirked and shoved the packet towards her. She tried reaching for it, but I yanked it back before she had a chance. She was still a damn straight jacket, she had zero chance. And I wouldn't give her it even then.
"Was that really called for, doc?" She pouted.
"Harleen, this is MY office now, MY therapy room. I'm in charge now, not you. Not anymore. You fucked up that opportunity. And I know why you're here. We all know." I said sternly.
She giggled back at me. "Of course everyone knows, Mistah J and I are a match...made in hell."
I began thumbing through the evaluation packet, scribbling down notes in the personality section. Stubborn, persistent, determined...signs of histronic disorder, OCD...
I looked up at Harleen. "So, something I'm noticing among the lot of you criminally insane patients here have nicknames."
Harleen shot me a wide grin, "I was wondering when ya would ask me for my NEW name! It's not Harleen anymore, it hasn't been since I fell in love with Mistah J..." she trailed off. I snapped my fingers in her face, "Right. I go by Harley Quinn now, but you can just call me Harley!" she giggled.
Harley was a lot easier to say than Harleen each time, her name was a mouthful. I turned back another page to finish my psych evaluation notes, the ones I needed to do with the patient present. I scrawled and scribbled a couple more sentences down.
"Well doc, looks like we're done here, ya?" Harley chirped. I glanced up at her, setting down my pen. I removed my reading glasses, "You can call me Dr. Clark, or Misses Clark. Harleen, Harley, whichever, you need to understand one thing. We are not friends, acquantinces, anything of the like or sort. This is strictly a patient/doctor relationship, that's all it will ever be." She rose from her seat, leaning down over the table, and she whispered,
"That's such a shame...I could have so...much fun with a pretty little thing like yaself...doc." She licked her lips teasingly. I glared back at her.
"And I don't do mind games. Or flattery." I then heard a knock at the door.
"Doctor! You about done? It's almost time for dinner. As much as these creatins needn't a meal, we gotta feed em!" the guard yelled through the door.
"Yes, we're finished. Come in and get her." A lock click sounded from the door opening and unlocking, the same guard from earlier wandered inside and grabbed Harley. As they turned to walk out she shot back at me,
"I'll convince ya otherwise, doc." She winked.
I didn't know what she was trying to accomplish, but flattery from patients definently wasn't going to work. From her nor Joker.