X One Million Times

"How did that happen?" Harley was just about fed up with this.

"Well—I was living in England-" The Joker began another story. He was sitting on the floor of his cell again today, with his back against the lounge.

"-No, really." Harley said.

"-and… I couldn't pay the rent one month." He acted as if she hadn't spoken.

"Stop it."

"You asked, Harlequin."

"I want to know the truth."

"…It might not have been England. How about Scotland?"

"No."

"Russia?"

"Stop it."

"Wisconsin?"

"I want you to tell me the truth."

"Truth is beauty."

"Or, is it so ugly you can't dare repeat it… so, you come up with other stories. Just as disgusting, but they don't hurt you to tell them. Because it didn't happen to you. I want you to feel pain now… what is the reality of this—so horrific, that you have to lie to me, every day?"

"Hush little baby, don't say a word…" he was half humming, half singing through his puffy red lips, his eyes half closed.

"Mr. J."

"Mama's gonna kill little mockingbird"

"Mr. J, please… tell me what happened to you?"

He stopped singing, snorted and hid his face as dark laughter began to pour from the back of his throat, growing higher and higher in pitch as he shook, curling in towards himself on the ground.

"Stop laughing… what's wrong?" concern blossomed inside of Harley as she recognized what sounded like a sob beneath the gale of his ruckus laughter.

"Harley…" he lowered his hands and looked up at her, the smile still stretched eternally on his face, "I don't know." The laughter was being siphoned from his face by some dark look prowling beneath his skin. For a moment Harley felt like he was truly frightened by something, or maybe amazed, "I don't remember."

"You mean like… amnesia?"

"No-I do. Remember. I do. I do. But, it's different. Everytime I think about it. The past is different."

"Do you mean to tell me—that every day, when you tell me a different story about how you got the Glasgow smile… that's just how you remember it, at that moment?"

He was quiet for a beat. He looked pensively at the wall, "It's very clear. Sometimes."

"And… other times?"

"Like nightmares I'm not sure I really ever had. Maybe someone told me about them. Someone who looks like me."

"How much can you… I mean… how much of the past is clear, to you?"

"It all shifts," he spoke in that quiet, soothing voice that was reserved for her, "Around, and around, around, around. It um… fades. In and out. And in. And… out."

"Has the medication helped? Or… has anything ever helped you? Is there anything in your past that you're sure happened?"

"…Everything is easier to remember… clearer, since… well. Dr. Quinn, since I started having these visits with you. Since I met you. I can remember the days and the nights. Since then. These last few weeks haven't changed. It's… steady. Even in my mind."

Harley swallowed, unsure how to respond to that.

"I remember my time with you more clearly than other things… I think you're helping me. And maybe. I trust you."

Harley shut the office door and let her knees give out beneath her. She had dissolved into tears the moment she was sure there was no one around to see her loose it. She had never felt so fragile before. Her fascination with The Joker had developed into love so quickly that she hadn't even considered thinking twice and reigning herself in. It felt so natural to be obsessed with someone so deep and complex and intense and enthralling. How could she not feel passion for a frenzied mind and a twisted, misunderstood soul like his? But today was different, because she loved him more then ever, and because it was growing exponentially every time they were together, and because now she knew that she was going to end up sacrificing everything to be with him.

What he had said today had given her hope. Hope that he would have her, and that she would become his solely, and that meant goodbye, to everything that she had ever known and loved before.

Could he possibly be worth it?

Harley tried to stifle a sob into her palms and knew that he was.

Fun Fact: My sister is convinced that Heath Ledger is alive. We were surfing at San Onofre (trails area) and it was nearly deserted, but there was this one guy who looked exactly like him. If I hadn't known that Heath Ledger was dead, I would have run up to him and done the whole 'annoying-fan-girl' thing. But since he's dead, I just stared, like this…

OO

Those are my eyes.

Song of the Chapter: Pink Floyd, "Wish You Were Here".