OUT IN THE COLD
Harley Quinn's Perspective:
It's cold, dark and depressing, and I'm not just talking about my heart right now. This was it, his final goodbye...he was out to kill someone, maybe more than one person. Even as his psychiatrist I couldn't work out what was wrong with him. It seems I still can't. He's all over the place and I'm wondering why I still feel obliged to call him my 'puddin'. Despite everything that's happened, including tonight...my heart just won't break into more pieces It physically can't.
I don't think he's moved on, he's doing this for me...the level of emotion he was showing me was so unlike him...he even cried in-front of me. It couldn't be because of the restaurant disaster, that wouldn't have bothered him at all. My involvement in this 'Suicide Squad' was clearly the issue, but one I couldn't help. If I refuse a direct order, I die. If I step out of line, I die. If I even annoy Rick Flag in the slightest...I die. Sure, right now I'm free from their control but how long would it be before I was called upon again?
Each successful suicide mission would only move my death sentence so far...before it looms again. I can't live like this, knowing that every day might be my last. Knowing that these other criminals, government officials and guards might kill me suddenly in my sleep. And knowing that whilst I sleep... Mistah J is out there, fighting to get me out of this mess.
I'm worried about him, I don't know what he plans to do, where he plans to go. I am more worried about him than I am about myself. Maybe that's the thing that worries me most: the fact that he broke my heart, but now he's out there... fighting for my life.
Risking his own life for mine.
I collected myself and wiped the tears from my face. The only problem now is I don't have anywhere to go. I'm in the middle of this restaurant car park...directly next to a crime scene. I don't have a home to return to...The Joker's apartment isn't even my home anymore, is it?
My only choice...is to request transport. No taxi driver would gladly take me in the back of their cab, everyone knows who Harley Quinn is by now.
Being stuck like this, in the rain...in the dark...on my own. It's scary...it's actually frightening to know I'm out here to fend for myself. At least I have the small switch-blade knife on me, I'm not unarmed.
Things could be much worse...right?
My hair and clothing were soaking wet, sticking to my body and making me feel uncomfortable. My makeup was smudging, making my tears look more devastating.
I entered the restaurant building, hoping to find a mobile phone and call for some help. At this point, any help would be better than no help at all.
I found an expensive handbag on the floor, next to one of the dining tables. I rummaged through it. Twenty dollars, a small mobile phone and some prescription tablets. I took the twenty dollars and stored it in my bra.
Note to self, next time I go out on a date...wear clothes with pockets.
I tried the mobile phone. There was a lock screen, asking for a password. What the hell was I going to do to unlock the phone? I looked around, I soon found another phone, sitting on one of the tables. This smartphone had a lock screen but didn't require a passkey, I simply swiped the screen with my finger and the phone unlocked.
I dialled '911' into the keypad. I placed the phone up to my ear and listened to the ringing.
Someone answered, an emergency services automated voice. "911, what's your emergency?" the automated voice asked.
I paused, unsure of what to say. I ended the call. How could I do this? It goes against everything...everything a criminal stands for. Turning yourself in...what's the point?
I took a deep breath and accepted what had to be done. I re-dialled '911.'
"911, what's your emergency?" the same automated voice asked.
"Hello...my name is Harley Quinn...I want to...I want to confess the murder of ...several people at Street Cafe Deluxe..." I said, stuttering nervously.
The call ended abruptly. I can't believe I just confessed to a crime...confessed murder. What did I just do?
Is there any possible way I can convince the officers now on their way to arrest me that I have a genuine reason not to be arrested? Maybe a 0.1% chance...if that.
Standing near the restaurant door, I see an approaching police car park outside of the building. An ordinary GCPD officer stepped out of the vehicle, unarmed and looking seemingly nice. As policemen go...this guy on first impressions seems like he might not smash my head against the bonnet of the car and arrest me.
But then...looks can be deceiving.
I stepped out of the restaurant and approached the police car, looking miserable. At least it had stopped raining. I decided to adopt a more serious tone rather than my naturally adorable one.
"Harley Quinn? What are you doing here? You're meant to be in Blackgate." the officer looked at me, he actually looked concerned. He offered his arm around my shoulder and allowed me to lean against the car. I was shivering, he could see I was in pain, that I'd been through a lot tonight. "I know you think I'm here to arrest you, but you look like you've had a rough day...what happened?" he asked.
"I know you have no authority to believe me... but I was enjoying a nice romantic evening with my boyfriend. Then he drove off, left me in the rain after killing all of these diners in the restaurant. I was left here, on my own...cold, wet...I thought I'd phone the police because I didn't know what else to do." I explained.
"You poor thing, here...get in the warm." he opened the car door, and allowed me to sit inside the car. He left the door open and continued talking to me.
This has got to be the nicest police officer I have ever met. I might even take back the stereotypical comment of 'all policemen are jerks.'
"Why are you being so nice to me? Don't you care about my criminal record?" I asked curiously.
"Prison and Blackgate are two very different places. I think you deserve to be in the nicer of the two. Though, if you escaped from Blackgate before...why should I bother arresting you again?"
I shrugged sadly. "I have no where else to go."
"Damn...I normally wouldn't say this. I'll probably get sacked for saying this, but why don't you let me take you back to Blackgate? As a psychiatric patient rather than an inmate. Before... you were an inmate in the Psychiatric Facility at Blackgate. I know your criminal record, of course I do...but how can I let a sweet little thing like you to be executed back on death row? I can't."
"What's the difference? It's still being locked up."
"No, being a patient at Blackgate is very different to being an inmate at Blackgate. Being a patient allows you to at least have a choice whether to comply or not. As an inmate...as you already know...you're forced to comply. They're rebuilding Arkham Asylum too, plans have been confirmed for the reconstruction of Arkham over the next five years."
"You're saying I'll be locked up but have a choice? That still sounds like prison."
"You can't expect me to let you walk free, not after everything you've done. This is a fair compromise, I'd say."
"I guess"
"I could alternatively take you to Belle Reve Prison, if you'd prefer"
"No! Uh...No, Blackgate is fine." I said nervously.
Belle Reve Prison was where the Suicide Squad was held, where I was captured, locked up, drugged and assigned to the first ever death-ridden black ops mission. They even strapped bombs to our necks...just in case we got any ideas to escape.
Eventually, as part of the deal they let us walk free...until the next mission, which I feared would be soon. Being taken there would be an open ticket to sign up for the next suicide mission.
I'd rather stay in Blackgate.
"Blackgate it is then."
"One thing though, if you had to choose. Would you choose the chest or the neck?" I asked, sneaking the switch-blade into my hand whilst the officer was pacing around.
"Oh, I'd definitely choose the head" the officer replied, grabbing his pistol and pointing it at me. "After all the empathy I gave you...you're just like all the others. You won't change, you'll never change." I dropped the knife on the ground and raised my hands up in the air nervously. "I'm arresting you for the murder of several people inside Street Cafe Deluxe. You're heading to Belle Reve Prison, the most locked down place for detaining super-villains known to exist . There is no way you'll be breaking out of there." he smirked, grabbing the handcuffs which were attached to his belt. The officer proceeded to fasten the handcuffs on my wrists firmly. He then shut the car door beside me.
I didn't know what to feel, but let's go with wanting to scream my head off. Yeah, let's agree that's how I'm feeling right now.
The police officer got in the driver's seat and slammed the door shut behind him. He looked at me through the rear view mirror. I scowled at him.
