"Miss Quinzel?" said the doctor, entering the waiting room.
"Yes," said Harley, standing up eagerly. She had been perusing a magazine, but honestly couldn't have told anyone what the article said or what the pictures depicted. She was too sick with worry over Jack.
"Would you come with me to my office, please?" he asked.
She nodded, her nervousness only increasing at this. They entered the office and the doctor shut the door, gesturing at her to have a seat.
"How is he?" she asked.
The doctor was silent, sitting down across from her. "We've done some scans, Miss Quinzel, and I'm sorry to have to tell you that Mr. Napier's brain has been permanently damaged by whatever chemicals he was exposed to."
"Permanently damaged?" repeated Harley. "You mean…he won't get better?"
"It's completely irreparable, I'm sorry to say," said the doctor. "There's nothing we can do. The best thing for him would be to be placed under some form of psychiatric care…"
"You mean lock him up in an asylum?" demanded Harley.
"If you want to put it in those terms," retorted the doctor. "He needs professional help and constant supervision. He has spontaneous periods of maniacal euphoria and uncontrollable laughter. This is combined with a very bright, active mind and…the desire to hurt others, which could lead to trouble if he's not properly cared for."
"What do you mean, the desire to hurt others?" asked Harley. "Jack wouldn't hurt a soul."
"Like I said, Miss Quinzel, Mr. Napier's mind has become permanently damaged," repeated the doctor. "He's no longer the man you knew. We had to have him strapped down and sedated for the tests because he kept trying to attack the doctors. He seemed to think the violence was all some big joke. That's probably due to the unfortunate nature of his deformity – he's convinced he should be some kind of clown…"
"Joker the Clown," murmured Harley. "Yeah, I know."
"Maybe it's a coping mechanism, maybe it's a genuine abnormality, we don't know," said the doctor. "But he's very amused by violence. And he's very clever about his ways of inflicting it."
"Jack was always clever," murmured Harley. "Nobody else thought so, but…he didn't like to chat with others a lot because his mind was always working. He would always talk to me, and he was a very smart man. Not like book smarts, but…really smart."
"And what exactly is your relationship to Mr. Napier?" asked the doctor.
"He's my boyfriend," she said. "We live together."
"Does he have any other family we can contact?" asked the doctor.
"No," said Harley, quietly. "No, he…he had family once but…they rejected him after we got together."
"I see," said the doctor. "Well, normally when a patient has to be committed, we need the permission of his next of kin. In this case, a blood relation. So if you could just tell us where his family is, we'll write to them right away…"
"Maybe…uh…I can see him first?" asked Harley. "Maybe we can talk about this, and I can get him to voluntarily commit himself."
The doctor nodded slowly. "Very well, if you think you can get through to him. I'll show you to his room."
He led her down the hall to a cold, sterile room with white walls. Jack sat in a chair in the corner, looking out the window and giggling to himself.
"Jack?" whispered Harley, as the door shut.
He turned to her, grinning. "Sorry, sweetheart, the only person in here is the Joker."
"Ok," said Harley, sitting down across from him. "Mr. Joker, then. Can I talk to you?"
"Always, Harley Quinn," he said, smiling at her. "What's on your mind?"
She bit her lip. "The doctors say…there's some kinda problem with your brain. They say you're not…thinking straight…"
"But I am, sweets!" he chuckled, beaming at her. "I am! For the first time in my life, I see the world as it truly is! It's a mad carnival! An amusement park, a circus of wonders! Full of fun and frolics and laughter and jokes! And I'm the clown in this circus – Joker the Clown, and my job is to make people laugh. And you know what people laugh at, Harley? They laugh at slapstick! Violence! Punching, kicking, hitting, shooting, exploding – other people in pain! Hilarious as long as it doesn't happen to you, of course," he chuckled.
"Mr. Joker, I need you to listen to me," said Harley, tears in her eyes as she took his hand. "You can't go around hurting people…"
"Why not?" he asked, puzzled. "It's only to make people laugh. Where's the harm?"
Harley just looked at him, and the tears burst forth. "Oh, Jack!" she gasped, hugging him. "Oh, baby, they wanna lock you up! They wanna lock you up in some awful asylum so you can't hurt people, but I can't think of you there, locked away from me, alone in some cold, sterile prison! I…I want you home, with me – I'll look after you, baby, I'll…I'll do anything to help you!" she sobbed.
He embraced her gently, shushing her and letting her cry into his chest. "Oh, Harley," he whispered. "Harley, Harley, Harley, my sweet little girl. Please don't cry. I don't like tears, and I don't like people who make you cry by trying to take me away from you. You should always be happy, sweets – always smiling and laughing. You always used to smile and laugh at Joker the Clown."
He titled her chin up, smiling at her. "Here. I know something that'll cheer you up. Joker's gonna make you laugh again, just watch."
"How?" she asked, wiping her eyes.
He took her hand, standing up and heading toward the door. He knocked firmly on it, and a hospital attendant opened it. "Yes?" he said.
That was the last thing he said. Jack slammed the door hard in his face, so that Harley heard his nose crack and the blood go everywhere. He fell to the ground, unconscious, and Jack laughed hysterically, racing down the hall pulling Harley after him. An alarm was raised, and hospital security staff came rushing in. Jack pulled them both down into the surgery wing, ducking into a room as security rushed after them. He seized a handful of operating tools, grinning as the guards pointed guns at him.
"Put down the weapons, freak," muttered one.
Jack grinned at Harley. "What do you think, sweets? Am I a knife-thrower?"
He aimed the knife at the guards, who just pointed guns back. And then he suddenly threw it upwards, where it sliced through an overhanging lamp, which fell and brained the guards underneath.
Jack burst into a fit of giggles, grabbing the fallen guards' guns. "No, I ain't!" he chuckled. "I'm a clown! I'm Joker the Clown and I make people laugh! Why aren't you laughing?" he chuckled at the fallen guards. "Can't you take a joke?"
He turned to grin at Harley, who just stared at him. "C'mon, sweets, let's blow this dump!" he laughed. "They're not dragging me off to some asylum! They'll never take me alive!"
He grabbed her hand and they raced out of the hospital. "Freeze, freak!" shouted four police officers who had been called, and were waiting outside, guns pointed at them. "Hands in the air!"
Jack grinned. "If you insist," he chuckled, holding up the guns. He fired rapidly, before the police could get a shot off, four bullets straight to their heads. "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!" he laughed. "Like shooting fish in a barrel, right, kiddo?" he said, turning to Harley.
He headed over to the police car, shoving aside the body in the driver's seat. "Let's roll, kid," he said, gesturing inside.
Harley stared at him. He had just killed four police officers, and seriously wounded three hospital staff. He was a violent criminal, and the law would be looking for him now. The law would be looking for both of them, unless she left him…unless she refused to go with this man, who was no longer Jack Napier, who was some kind of homicidal clown. Unless she broke her promise to Jack, to love him whatever happened…
If she got in that car, she'd be surrendering to insanity. Her life as a normal person would be over – she would be an accomplice to murder, a sidekick to some crazy clown who amused himself with violence and murder…
"Harley," he said, looking at her. "Please. Get in."
He gazed at her with Jack's eyes, the eyes of the man she loved, and couldn't live without, even in this twisted form. The look in those eyes said that he needed her, he loved her, every bit as much as she loved him. Even after all that had happened to him, their love had survived. And she would not be the one to kill it.
She nodded, climbing slowly into the car and shutting the door. "I love you…Mr. J…"
He cut her off with a kiss, a wild, passionate, crazy kiss. "Mr. J will do," he chuckled, backing out and driving off into the city.