AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I am well aware that the title of this chapter is one of the many cliché's in the Dark Knight world of fanfiction; however, it just makes sense to add a story of my own as well with the true branding of his scars.
I thoroughly hope I did considerably well on this. I do apologize if I have made the Joker seem out of characterish (he is very tiresome to work with) but there again –no can really pin point his true persona –simply because he is very much unpredicted-! With that being said, I hope you enjoy the new improvements I have made!
Reviews are needed and most appreciated!
I.
Harleen found it as she sat on the chair across from him, merely two feet and nine inches away from the man in orange, that she was actually more calm in a most ironical manner—why she, even she, would've been afraid to be confronted with someone accused of most precarious crimes, however, she found that she was not.
Her chair was somewhat uncomfortable but in a more contemptuous manner, she narrowed her eyes, appearing unafraid by the horrified character's presence, grinning, licking his scars here and there, twitched crazily, but she merely tightened her jaw, making her teeth aligned and befell a most innocent look. Harleen was notorious for looking complacently nonchalant in the most chilling experiences.
She cleared her throat.
"I am sorry to inform you that our first meeting will adjourn rather tediously," She paused, shuffling through some paperwork in her briefcase, which sat side, her seat, "you know, medical records and things like that." She said.
"Oh! Goody." He replied sarcastically.
She began to fill out the doctor's part of the patient fill out and ignored him for a few silent moments before she could hear the scratching of nail against metal. Her teeth clenched in her jaw, and she shot an annoyed glance. The sound vaguely reminded of her of nails screeching down the plaster-like chalkboards, back in elementary school.
"You know, ah, orange has never really been a fav-or-rit-te color, of, ah –mine." He giggled, taking pleasure in successfully ripping some of the seams beneath his shiny handcuffs. He poked and prodded roughly at the shackles that bound his wrist together.
"Do you have a name?" She asked, overlooking the mindless bland comment the man continued to prattle upon. She then began noticing he kept rolling his serpent like tongue in and out every few seconds to grace the rutted and torn flesh on his face.
"Is that important?" He counter questioned, looking quizzically at her, pushing his neck sideways and forming an awkward stare, interlocking with her own. She was stagnant and poised, unafraid of his very dark, sunken black eyes.
"If by important you mean necessary, then yes."
"You know," He paused, with a gleeful smile, "I've always wanted to be a Jack! Call me Jack."
Harleen frowned at his. She wasn't expecting such a undaunted answer, free of thought but purely out of the imagination of childlike persona, as if playing a most grueling guessing game. She squinted her eyes, hesitant to write the name down…
"So, Jack," She pursed her lips fluently, "Have you ever envisioned a last name for yourself? Or have you ever given it thought?"
"Hm… not much, if I recall, my last name used to be a Napier."
"Used to be," She became curious, scribbling down his previous statement "Are you implying that you don't remember anything about your past? Is that why you call yourself Jack?"
"Sometimes I, ah, remember it one way, sometimes another. If I'm going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice."—
"This isn't a standardized test," She said simply, "this is common knowledge. So why don't you make this lackluster process easier for the both of us and just tell me your real name—what's the harm in that?" She pressed further.
"Something you dislike about your true identity, perhaps?" She continued to prod, seeing that he refused to respond legibly without bursting into laughter.
"So, ah, Doctor, since we're gunna be buddies-"He let a snicker with wide grin, "for the next couple months, why don't you tell me your, ah, your full name, then."
"If I do so," She agreed, "will you tell me yours?"
"Maybe," He shrugged his shoulder, "maybe not."
Harleen sighed inwardly, feeling her nerves becoming slightly frazzled however she didn't once falter when looking back at his frivolous stare, returning the darkening gaze.
"My full name is Harleen Quinzel."
There were a couple minutes of silence. She kept his gaze on her, entirely, until she noticed something in his mind was ticking like a clock –almost like the name delighted him in a most terrifying way. He leaned forward, hacking and coughing in a most horrendous fit of laughter.
"Care to share the humor?" She proposed very composed.
"Toots," He smacked his lips, "I think its fate that, ah, and the two of us should –heh— meet like this. Ya know?"
"How so?" She questioned, nothing registering at the moment.
"Ever heard of something called the Italian Commedia dell'Arte?" He asked, most fluidly, unfaltering without his usual usage over-emphasizing certain syllables and distinguished wording.
Harleen remained puzzled at the two parallels the man was trying to make clearer for her but the befuddlement of her furrowed brows only amused him much more. The Joker let a slight laugh.
"You, ah, You see," He said most astutely, "it was a form of improvisational theater, given it's title, which of course, ah, means, the comedy of artists. The, ah, -hehe—, ah, characters included one named Harlequin. The Jester. More of a clown"—
"This is completely irrelevant." Harleen interrupted, ripping her fascination to short notice and picked back up where they had left off on the medical form—oh wait, she curse, she hadn't even made progress just yet.
"You just don't want to admit," He laughed, recomposing himself, "that ah, you and me, Doc-ah, we're meant to be. Funny we should meet," He looked around, observing the plainly quaint room, "here!" He resounded in a most hysterical manner, trying to contain his laughter.
Harleen began to feel herself grow hot—no one, she thought, has ever made an evaluation so fucking difficult. How can one human being reduce her to such humiliation within the short hour they've begun? She scribbled incessantly, a mental note, not part of the evaluation, to remember the patient as a persistent blubbering fool who cannot, for the love of all that is holy, stop laughing for even a second. Or perhaps, she thought quickly as she continued to eye him, scribbling her mental notes all into one unpunctuated sentence, that this was his tactic –to simply rob her of her self control.
A lot her patients did the very same thing however none have been quite as cunning as the Joker. He was clever, witty and of course, quick with responses, some with looses interpretations that needed to be better informative, more decisive and concise. Not to mention his very appearance made her utterly apprehensive and on the verge of insanity.
She continued to stare at the matted and torn make-up, strode across messily over his scarlet lips and his black holes for eyes were now paling to a much more vibrant color of dusty grey. As for his hair, it shined very glossily from the fluorescent lights, making it very easy to see through the thin, fairing hair at his pale scalp.
Harleen was nearly lost in thought and thickly wide-eyed and staring at him until he ruptured the silence that bounced her back from her daydream.
"You know doc," He licked his lips, "I know I am very attractive but hasn't you're mother ever told you it's, ah, it's very rude to starree?"
Harleen ignored the comments he made and watched as he staggered to retain a snicker or two within his throat, eyeing her cautiously, before winking at her.
"Fortunately for you, Joker," Harleen spoke with complete composure, "you won't have to worry about me becoming personally interested with some like you. We're two entirely different people –you're my patient, and I am your Doctor."
"Oh, well, then, ah, I guess you're have to play the good Doctor, bad Doctor routine because the way I see it," He licked his scars once more, smacking his lips together, "we'll be breaking all the rules in this place."
"What makes you say"—
"Because you see Doc," He articulated very smoothly, tugging at his handcuffs, moving his fingers to illustrate his words as he spoke, "We're not so different, you and I."
"Joker," Harleen sighed, seeing that were once more getting of task, "You don't even know who I am or what kind of person I may be so I see it very unlikely for you to formulate a valid hypothesis about us."
"A very good, ah, point, however, in due time, Harley," He mused most sardonically "we'll just have to see how everything –hehe- ah, how everything plays out."
Harleen stared at him for a moment, unifying her thoughts together, trying to focus on the task that was at hand. She desperately needed to graph some sort of answer on these medical forms, at least for his sake; he needed some type of records.
She glanced from him now, forgetting the past conversation and throwing it aside. She now stared the medical sheet…
"Are you allergic to anything?" She asked.
"You're not any fun." He complained, with a subtle sigh.
"This isn't suppose to be much fun, so tell me, are you allergic to anything?"
"Ah Novocain." He mused, as if remembering something vague.
"How did you come to know this?" She asked without looking at him.
"Why does that matter-r?" He did it again; emphasizing his syllables. This was seriously beginning to berate Harleen's nerves. She didn't understand why he had to sound out every letter in a single word so perfectly.
"If we're going to help rehabilitate you to normalcy we need to know everything about you which means need to know what drugs we can and cannot give you so can you be so kind as to try and work with me here? You're beginning to make this process extremely difficult." She mumbled the last part and heard him snicker. Harleen seriously considered balling her fist up and smacking him but resisted, allowing only her brows to twitch.
"You're just too much fun!" He joked, "But I'll let you in on a little secret." He laughed a little harder, roughly pulling at the seams of his pant legs. The Joker slivered his long tongue to the side of his mouth, wetting the corners before smacking his lips once more.
"You wanna know how I got these scars?"
That was it. Officially it. Harleen felt anger seep into her cheeks, "I've heard these scar stories you've told and it seems to me like"—he interrupted her.
"C'mere." He motioned with his hands, whispering very silently.
Harleen gave him a wary look before she leaned forward, closing in on the little space shared between them.
"I don't bite," He promised, laughing as he did so, motioning her forward a bit more and Harleen allowed herself the liberty of only scooting her chair a little closer.
"My stepfather got in deep with the mob, sold drugs, stole money and ah—haha— did a lot of bad things. One day, when ah, I, ah was about ten years old he comes home late one night, scared because he couldn't pay them back for all the drugs he stole but instead he traded me in his ah, in his place. They gave me, what you would call a Glasgow smile," He indicated this by smiling a huge smile showing his caramel colored teeth, Harleen immediately grew disgusted, but nonetheless intrigued, leaned forward, watching his mouth curl upward. "And what they do is they cut two one-inch incisions in both sides of my mouth," He then leaned forward as well, coming closer towards her. She instantly, disdainfully disrupted by the staleness of his breath, repositioned her seat, to further herself away from him however, he leaped his shackled hands forward, grasping her chin none to softly. His nails began to dig into her soft delicate skin. Harleen tried furiously to get away, now beginning to grow anxious, hearing the vibrations of his laughter clogging his throat.
"No, no, c'mere," He commanded defiantly.
"Joker," She threatened, "Let go of me, please, if you don't"—
"Shh, shh," He gripped her tighter, making her look up into his eyes, "You asked me how I found out I was allergic to Novocain, so here's you're answer," He giggled.
"So, after they carved my mouth, they decide to beat me so that I would scream. And when I, ah, I would scream, my cheeks would rip where the cuts were made." As he said this he caressed his thumb over Harleen's lips and burrowed the rest of his fingers softly in her cheeks.
This time Harleen was under the influence of the viciousness of his words. They poured forth, sweeping over her face and filled her ears. It was almost as if she could feel the knife cutting into her own cheeks. She instantly shuddered.
Suddenly, the Joker clenched tightly, making her mew pitifully.
"So my mother took me to the hospital. They injected the Novocain to numb the pain and then I went into what they called life-threatening anaphylaxis shock, a typical allergic reaction. " He paused several moments, still keeping his eyes locked within hers, allowing his lips to brush softly against her and then he forcefully pushed her pretty face from his clenched fist, engaging in an hysterical laughter.
"You're too much fun, doc," He laughed louder as he watched her trying to compose herself.
"Aw," He cooed in between giggles, "Did I scare ya?"
"Just incidentally." She answered angrily, hardly able to stand with smooth balance but she then quickly collect her things together as he merely watched.
"Time's up already?" He asked innocently.
Harleen didn't bother to answer. Instead she continued to pack her clipboard and empty medical forms back into the briefcase. He hadn't said anything yet however she could feel his eyes dig into the crook of her back, making her extremely uncomfortable. It wasn't as if she was afraid of the man, no, that wasn't it at all. It was the physical contact that frightened her. She was a professional and to allow herself to envelop into such a preposterous story was embarrassing enough. She was actually more angry than anxious. She wanted to be the bigger person, take control of the situation however, she faltered, allowing herself to fall prey to his stupid childish antics. How dare he even touch her! Harleen never favored physical contact, in fear of the attachment and the feeling of the proximity, much less favor it from a mass murdering clown!
She turned heels up before returning a composed feature of her calm face, however, burrowing her brows into the creases of her nose in anger. She left the room quickly, slamming the door upon hearing his hyperactive laughter fill the metal hallways.
II. (Harleen is monitoring her last patient before she leaves work: Jonathan Crane)
Harleen peered through the cell and watched Jonathan piddle around languorously. He was very much bored, she could tell easily but continued the watch him. He hadn't even paid her attention the whole hour she had been here. She was suppose to discuss something about the motives he took for inducing the Fear Toxin, however, it was a slightly sensitive subject for the both of them.
She pushed all her emotions aside and remained poised for any conversation he might spark up, however, he seemed disinterested in her presences. He hadn't laid an eye on her yet.
"Are you going to talk to me?" She asked through the glass.
"I am not in the mood, actually." He snapped coldly.
"You used to not be like this," She said, "You used to be"—
"Hey!" Jonathan spoke venomously, "That was before. This is now. Wearen't living in the past Harleen. We are living in today. So why don't you drop it? I just don't feel like having my therapy session right now. Just leave."
"Whatever you wish." She snapped back, flustering a sideways glance before dismissing herself from him. That's when she had run into Jeremiah Arkham, doing his daily monitering of the floors.
"Ah," He said smoothly, catching Harleen's off balance, "Harleen! Just the woman was I was looking for."
"Oh," She was a startled and looked up into his face being that he was a relatively tall compared to her, "Doctor, I –uh"—
"Nothing's wrong if you're worried," He chuckled, taking her aside as they ventured to the stairwell, passing through a couple or doors, "Amanda has informed me of your new patient, the Joker, how is he doing?"
"Hm." She growled, "He's rather difficult to communitcate with, I won't lie about that."
"Well," Jeremiah said with a smile, "As you may already know, some patients here require a little more energy than others but I trust you will continue to evalutate him, correct?"
"Yes, Doctor, I will do so."
"And one more thing," He said fluently, before darting down another adjacent hallway and turning to look at her, "have you filled out any of the medical forms?"
"No, sir," She sighed, annoyed, "I was trying to get him to talk to me today but all he did was talk about other things. I will"—
"It's not a problem, just be sure to fill that out as soon as possible. Oh! Amanda did ask me to tell you to meet with her before clock out this evening. So be sure to see her." He said, descending down the marble walkway.
"Yes. Thank-you!" Harleen said before strutting up another couple of stairwells.
III.
"I trust that you won't allow any sort of emotion develop between you and Johnatha," Amanda warned, warmly with lit up green orbs.
"I"—
"Harleen, I am aware that you and Doctor Johnathan Crane did share something of an intimate relationship before he was put in this institute and some of your recent evaluations, shall we say," Amanda paused, pacing to and fro from her desk to the window, "are lacking substance. I'm not angry with you Harleen, do not think that for second, I am just looking out for you. I don't want you to get too involved with his personal life that you might forget that you are still a Doctor here."
Harleen had fallen silent upon hearing such words escape Amanda's mouth, however, they were qaint and indisposed of such irrational emotion. She seemed quite pleased with Harleen however her voice was rigid.
"Do I give the impression of"—Harleen began to say but was intervene by Amanda.
"No, it's just you're relationship with Johnathan isn't exactly a quiet one. I suspect that almost everyone here knows about you and your former lover's aqauintence and I just hope that you don't"—
"Nothing between us has been affecting my work. It's just he hasn't been as responsive these last couple weeks. It's like he's hiding something from me." Harleen sounded weak and discontent upon her own thoughts that it projected some level of concern for Amanda.
She looked at Harleen noticing that she wad fidgeting around nervously in her seat, constantly peering out the window.
"Oh? Do you suspect anything?"
"I'm not sure. He's been awfully distant. I mean not that we share common interest like we used to but I would say we were pretty open to any sort of conversation. He's much more…reserved." Harleen spoke quietly, looking wistfully out of the window, allowing the memory of Johanthan sweep into her mind, like an open canvas and wet paintbrush.
"You taste sweet," He said, caressing his lips against her own. Jonathan's eyes burrowed beneath her glass emotion, reflecting a fiery passion that glittered beneath her thick lashes. Harleen sat completely captivated and shared another long kiss.
"What is it?" She asked. "It's a new drug," He stated simply, furthering the question no more than when she asked. He seemed as though he'd rather not explain the components of latest concoction and she left most of her thoughts aside, relishing this moment they shared just before work ended.
Jonathan graced her hands with his own, clenching her soft fingers with his hand.
"Promise you won't abandon me?" He whispered, grazing his soft lips against her ear, roughly.
"Never." Harleen vowed.
"Harleen?" Amanda asked, snapping Harleen from her daydream with wide eyes.
"Hmm?"
"Are you quiet alright?" Her doctor asked.
"Oh, yes."
"If you continue to suspect something you will let me know," Amanda stated, "is that okay?"
"Yes."
"You're free to leave –and remember Harleen, I am not in any way upset with you, I am just looking out for your best interest." Amanda warmed up instantly with a genuine smile before dismissing her.
"Alright," Harleen smiled nervously before opening the door, "I'll see you tomorrow then."
So there you have it. I wanted to add a little twist in Harleen's life, being so that she was actually physically and emotionally involved with the "Scarecrow". However, no matter how physical they must've became, she never did give up her virginity. I kinda want her to keep that simply because it later proposes a lot of interesting chemistry between her and the Joker. There won't be much elaboration on her and Jonathan's relationship until later chapters when things get a little more, shall we say, exciting :)Anyway, I do hope my improvements are up to your liking, so as I always remind: reviews are MOST appreciated :D
Sneak Peak: "Brand New Toy"
"And just how do you expect to get out of here?" Harleen laughed. This was a complete parody, replaying in her head, imaginging him even getting past seventh floor security –the thought was simply maddening.
"Well you, ah, you see," He smacked his lips, "that's where you come in Doc-ah."
"You must be misguided to think I'd help you. I won't be assisting you in such an offense."
"Sure, why not?" He flirted effortlessly, wriggling his brows.
"Well you're inconsolably mistaken," She said dismissively, collecting her things due to the elapsed time, "because I won't be a pawn in you're little games, Joker."
"You'll see," He vowed, as she turned to leave, "I'll make you want to help me."
