Mad Quinn

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to the movie TDK and the comic series.

Origins of Harley Quinn for chapter three: Harleen Quinzel was once a career-oriented psychologist whose life took a radical turn when she chose to spend a semester interning at Arkham Asylum.


Chapter three: Doctor Quizel


Gotham's residents had woken up at the crack of dawn.

Meanwhile, the Joker stayed trapped within a room.

He sat, leaning against the wall, his knees pulled up and tucked underneath his chin; his hands tapping aimlessly on the rough fabric of the pants they made him wear; his eyes were trained steadily at the wall directly across from him—the plain, white, colorless wall that seemed to stare right back at him.

How remarkable, he marveled. This room is like a mirror. That wall seems to be directly in front of me, yet it's behind me, to my left, and also on my right. That's the only thing that can possibly be in more than two places at once.

He had succeeded in keeping his mind preoccupied over the long night. However, as he heard other patients in other rooms nearby wake up, he lost his train of thought. More than once had he lifted an eyebrow as he listened intently as someone began screaming bloody murder from their sleep, most likely just escaping a terrible nightmare that just seemed too real. And more than once he turned his attention to the door when someone took a patient past his room, crying pitifully or screaming excruciatingly loud. The night surely was calmer than the day, that's for sure.

The Joker felt ready for anything. Since he kept his mind away from the thoughts of having to attend a daily session with some shrink, he was able to keep in control. And he definitely wasn't looking forward to visiting some doctor who thought they knew it all.

To the Joker, psychiatrists were nothing but arrogant doctors that think they're able to see more than the normal doctors can. That they have a special, unique privilege of asking personal questions to complete strangers, while not having the slightest amount of affection for them. They think they can understand what goes on in a person's mind. What makes them tick.

The Joker narrowed his eyes. If there was one thing he hated more than squealers, that would be know-it-alls. And psychiatrists were the worst.

Money. That's the only reason why they "care" about treating their patient. Because of money, they act like they actually care about what goes on in the person's mind. About their mental mentality, not because they actually want to help them. Only because of what they get in return—a few pieces of green paper.

Oh, the Joker nearly gagged, how disgusting. Money. A manipulating factor that takes toll so easily on people. Influences how they run their so-called life. Why spend your entire life working to get a few stacks of paper, when the next day, you spend it all?

The Joker scoffed. And they say I'm the crazy one here.


Harleen grabbed a quick breakfast before she left the house; a toast with butter adorning its features, and a cup of hot chocolate. She wasn't the type for coffee—she despised the mere substance.

She felt unusually anxious. Like something was building inside of her stomach, to the point that the pressure would be too great and just POP. And the weather didn't help either. Heavy, dark clouds made the surroundings dreary and lifeless. She ate without feeling full, and her hands were trembling as she held onto the steering wheel to her vehicle. Something big was going to happen. She could feel it.

Not before long, she found her usual parking spot located in the way back. She took her time getting out of the car, double checking her appearance, going over her image of her conversation between Dr. Arkham and herself in her mind.

Finally, she stopped herself and inhaled deeply.

Calm down. You haven't been this nervous since you went to prom!

Still feeling slightly uneasy, Harleen forced herself to hurry into the building before she backed down. Penny greeted her with a loud pop of her gum-bubble.

"Morning," Harleen greeted breathlessly, laying her belongings down. She quickly found her uniform and wrapped it around her.

"You look different." Penny said bluntly, without looking up.

Harleen shrugged her off, her attention focused on tying the sash around her waist. She frowned. Last week she definitely didn't remember being this…or having this fat. Was she getting fat? Of course she exercised regularly; she just wasn't a star athlete or anything. Maybe she'd have to stay off the bread…

"Why are you so nervous?" Penny demanded, finally gazing at Harleen with her hard stare. "You look really pale. And that's saying something, because girl, usually you're really white."

Thanks, Harleen thought.

"Oh I didn't notice how white I was." Harleen grumbled, unknown to Penny. "I'm not nervous."

"Your nose is getting bigger."

"Really—I'm fine. I don't even know why we're having this conversation."

"Harleen—"

"—I mean, look at me! I'm perfectly fine, right? I'm the definition of fine. If you asked me at this exact moment in time, I would look you in the eye and tell you that I'm the perfect example of pure fine. Seriously! I mean, ever heard of that show where they ask you questions or whatever and they can tell when you're lying with that lying machine? Well if you asked me if I was fine on there, the machine would agree that I was telling the truth. I'm the prime form of fine. I—"

"—okay, I may not be a psychologist like you but even I know you're lying." Penny cut in on Harleen's rant. Harleen went dead silent, breathless for a moment. "Tell me why you're so nervous."

"I'm not nervous." Harleen squeaked. She froze. Did I just squeak?

"Oh I get it!" Penny slammed her hand on the table out of the pure realization. Harleen simply stared at her, wondering if Penny actually understood. "You're scared."

"Scared?"

"Yeah. That the Joker was brought here yesterday."

The entire room went silent. Penny was smiling triumphantly—thinking she single handedly found out what was making the professional doctor so edgy—while Harleen found herself frowning.

Well…that's part of the reason.

"Sure." Harleen grumbled, not bothering to tell the secretary the whole story.

"It's alright, girl." Penny waved her hand offhandedly, fixing a ring on her index finger. Harleen had to admit—the stylish rings looked flattering on the girl's dark skin. "He's locked up. There's no way he could get out."

That's not what I'm worried about…

"Good." Harleen whispered, finally getting herself together. Well, sort of.

The phone rang on the desk and Penny answered it. Harleen turned her attention on her glasses, which were getting foggy again.

"Mr. Todd wants to talk to you. Again." Penny said. "What'd you do? I mean, he just spoke to you yesterday."

"It's nothing." Harleen brushed back her hair from her face, feeling sophisticated and prepared for anything. She attached her glasses to her face, barely giving a glance to the oh-so curious Penny.

"Good luck," Penny called right before Harleen disappeared into the depths of Arkham Asylum again.


The Joker was getting annoyed.

Who's the guest here? He glanced around. Oh. That's right. I am. I'm the guest. What kind of host doesn't bring their guest anything to eat? I've been here all night, and almost all morning, yet I get nothing? The nerve of some people these days.

He inwardly smirked. Maybe I could teach 'em a lesson…


"Mr. Todd?" Harleen hesitantly stepped into his office once more, seeing the man hunching over his papers. She pushed back her glasses, and briefly made sure her hair was in its bun like it was before.

If you look strong, you can be strong, she assured herself.

"Why hello Miss Harleen," He greeted courteously. "I've been waiting to talk to you."

"Same here."

"Dr. Arkham couldn't make it today," He told Harleen calmly. "He had some private affairs to attend. He sends his apologies, though."

"Oh…"

"So did you come up with an answer?" Mr. Todd persisted, offering Harleen an encouraging grin.

"I thought about it all day yesterday." Harleen admitted softly. "And eventually, I decided…on doing it."

"That is wonderful news! I'll send word to Dr. Arkham immediately." Mr. Todd began trying away on his computer, an overjoyed grin adorning his usually calm features. "Also, the press would love to know that you're doing it. You know, the news and such."

"Yes I know. I watched some of it yesterday."

He glanced at her. "Oh. Not a big fan of it, huh?"

"You can say that."

"When Dr. Arkham returns, which will be either tomorrow or the next day, we'll talk to the press. He'll be very proud to announce that you'll be treating the Joker."

Harleen inwardly cringed. Ugh. Just the name sent shivers down her spine.

Forget about being scared! Toughen up, Harleen! This is your career on the line!

Mr. Todd suddenly straightened up and clapped his hands together. "So…would you like to talk to him today?"

Harleen nearly passed out.

"W-what?"

"You know, introduce yourself to him and such. I can get him in a room and everything; you don't have to go directly into his room. And he'll be handcuffed, so there's no possible way he can hurt you." He grinned. "Besides, you'll have to see him sooner or later."

"Where is he?"


The Joker slowly craned his neck when the knob on his door began turning and keys unlocked it. His eyes watched as it swung open, and two uniformed men rushed in.

"Well hello there," The Joker drawled calmly.

"Get up," The first guy ordered gruffly.

"Excuse me?"

Without another word or warning, they grabbed him by the arms and shoved him into the wall. The Joker rolled his eyes as they began handcuffing him.

"Is this necessary?" He asked when they finally got them on. Still holding onto his arms, they began leading him from his room. The Joker definitely didn't like how they handcuffed him—his hands behind his back.

I don't like this. Not. One. Bit.

"Aw I don't want to leave my room." The Joker paused before they shoved him out into the hallway. Without the balance of his arms, the momentum sent him flying into the wall painfully.

"See?" He shook his hands from behind. "I'm useless with these on."

"That's the point."

The men took hold of his shoulders and began taking the Joker down the hallway. Grumbling under his breath, the Joker was most certainly not a happy camper.

First they burst into my room, tell me what to do, and then have the nerve to handcuff me! Some hosts!

"Ya know," The Joker finally started, "because of all your hostility, you never told me where we're going."

"You're going to meet your new doctor."

The Joker's mood darkened even more. "Ya mean a psychiatrist?"

"Yeah."

He let his head hang limp, his hair covering the most part of his face. The Joker inhaled deeply, inwardly counting to ten.

"Oh isn't this my lucky day."


"He's right in that room." Mr. Todd told Harleen as they approached a long glass. Harleen hesitated, quickly averting her gaze away from it to look at her boss. "You're welcome to go in any second. Have a look first, though. I don't want you to faint or anything when you get in there."

"I won't faint." Harleen insisted, feeling her cheeks blaze in return. Sighing, she finally looked through the glass, the special glass that if you were on the inside, you can't see outside of it.

There he was.

Mr. Todd kept true to his word. The Joker sat in a metal chair, looking miserable as ever with his hands tied behind his back. He held an irritated expression, his eyes roaming around the room every given second as if he knew people were watching him. His hair was wild as ever, wilder than Harleen's ever seen on tv for the matter. His legs were splayed out before him, and Harleen took in his long, lanky form for a moment. Never has it occurred to her that the Joker wasn't a short man—he was actually tall. But the odd thing was, was that the Joker held no makeup today. And even from this glass, Harleen could see the scars lining by his mouth—almost like the smile of the Chesire Cat.

"Go on," Mr. Todd whispered. "You can do this, Harleen."

Harleen glanced behind her. That was the first time he's ever said her first name.

Which, in fact, was a big deal. A sign of him knowing her better.

Harleen reached for the knob on the door. She paused. Should she do this? Once she opens this very door, her fate would be sealed. This problem would belong to her. This entire responsibility would be in her hands. She would no longer be able to take her job as a normal job.

Gotham's most vicious, mind-boggling criminal would be her top priority. The entire city would count on her. She would become known, renounced only as the woman would treated the Joker.

She frowned. And what if this turns out badly? If somehow something went deathly wrong? What then? People would absolutely hate her. Kids would look down on her—without even truly knowing who she was. Parents would tell their kids how terrible she was, how crazy she was. How she failed at this important, vital task at hand. How she let Gotham fall on her knees…

But then again, if she succeeded in treating the Joker, everyone would love her. Kids would think of her as some kind of hero. Grown women and men would look up to her. She'd get her own office probably here in Arkham—America's best known asylum! Oh think of the wonders she would experience, the money she would receive. She would be able to go back to her parents and look them in the eye, to tell them how much of a wonderful woman she grew up to be. That she was no longer than immature teenager they still thought she was. Instead of cheating on tests, going out to party with total losers, and spending more time out at Football games, their daughter would become a hero. This time, they'd be able to be proud of her. To smile at her.

To smile at me…

"Harleen?" Mr. Todd's whisper brought Harleen from her inner thoughts. She instantly snapped out of her contemplations and just literally ripped the door open like a frantic, crazy woman.

She strolled in like she didn't have a care in the world; as if she owned all this. She did. She was an intelligent woman—and this was her prime state.

But as her eyes fell on the man in front of her, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Bad idea….

From the windows of her glasses, Harleen peered down at the eyes of a man who joyfully watched helpless victims die under his hand.

She felt as if all the air in her lungs suddenly vanished. And the sound of the door closing behind her echoed in her ears like a thousand bells.

I-I can't do this. I can't! I need to get out of here!

She urged her legs to move—the get her out of here. The air around him was too…compelling. Frightening.

Intimidating.

Even Harleen Quinzel knew it was a bad sign if she was intimidated by her own patient.

Normally she would've used her notebook to shield her face in a defensive manner, but then Harleen noticed her notebook wasn't with her.

She was only introducing herself.

"Ya know," The Joker spoke, his voice sounding like a lion in a lion's den. "I think you're in the wrong room."

"N-no." Harleen stammered, inhaling so loudly and sharply that the Joker made a face. She forgot to breath.

How can someone forget to breath?

"This is what you call being blank with a capital B." The Joker grumbled. "Let me guess. You're my new doctor."

"Yes. Oh, yes I am." Harleen took a few deep breaths before hurrying to her chair across from Joker. She thanked God for whoever set the table in between them. Her eyes locked onto her hands as she folded them on the table—trying to portray a relaxed manner—but even then she felt the Joker's eyes looking at her.

An odd sensation rippled through her. But she couldn't explain it. Not now; not yet.

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

"What?" Harleen stared at the Joker, who guarded his face proficiently.

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

Harleen shook her head, slowly feeling calmer by the second. He's trying to confuse you. Don't let him do it.

"Well, anyway, you can work on your poems later." Harleen almost smiled. She was sounding more and more like herself. "But right now, I came here to introduce myself. Like you guessed earlier, I am your doctor."

"Knew it."

"And you're my, uh, new patient."

"Obviously."

Harleen's patience was wearing out by his sarcastic remarks. So she decided to just jump for the kill.

"My name's Harleen Quinzel. But I want you to call me Doctor Quinzel."

"Alright Doctor Quizel."

Harleen blinked. "It's Quinzel."

"I know, sir."

Harleen cracked a bitter smile and the Joker suddenly broke out in a fit of laughter.

"Ya know," He wheezed, "you're a hit. Normally I don't do that to people, but I just couldn't help it!"

Harleen ignored his laughter, which was very disconcerting. "So what's your name?"

The Joker silenced and simply smiled. "Well, uh, I doubt anybody doesn't know my name."

"Oh aren't you conceited." Harleen froze. She would've never talked to another patient like that. The Joker looked a little taken aback by her attitude as well, seeing that she was teasing him. Like he was a normal person.

Get yourself under control. You need to be a person he looks up to…

Yeah. This is gonna take a lot of work.

"I know your 'nickname' is the Joker. But what's your real name?"

"I already said it."

"No you didn't. You said your nickname. Did your parents literally sign your birth certificate with 'the Joker' or did they put a normal name?"

The Joker shrugged, relaxing visibly. Harleen wondered why he looked so smug. "I don't have a birth certificate."

"Why not?"

"Because I burned it."

Harleen paused. "Why?"

"Because…" The Joker closed his eyes as if feeling intense pleasure. Harleen frowned. "You come to learn that just about anything can burn."

The two simply gazed at each other. The Joker was solemn and without a trace of playfulness—Harleen was of confusion, simply wondering how she would ever truly grasp why the Joker was so…confusing.

Okay, you introduced yourself. You can learn his name later.

"We'll talk about this later." Harleen stood up abruptly, nearly knocking her chair down. "Till then, Joker."

"Sure thing, Doctor Quizel."


A/N: Ah ha! Their first introduction ;) Hope I didn't make it too weird or anything! Please leave reviews! :) It makes my dayyyyy people! Also if you want anything cool to happen, let me know and I shall think about it :D

~YolandaFriella