Mad Quinn
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to the movie TDK and the comic series.
Origins of Harley Quinn for chapter five: 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.
The Joker was being led back to his cell.
"Ya know," The Joker started, "a typical stereotype would imagine a shrink as an old man with a long beard and beady eyes that never miss anything. Some old man with no life, other than devoting his entire life and being into the asylum, with a terrible way of seeing people. No genuine sympathy for his patients. No sense of compassion. A man that has seen nothing but the worst of humanity—only the insane part. Boarded up in a bar-less cage, and completely and utterly obsessed in something they just can't understand."
The guard stayed silent. The Joker sighed, not liking how hard the guard's grip was on his handcuffed wrists.
"And, as the usual, this didn't surprise me. Instead of getting what I expected, I got exactly what I didn't expect!" The Joker exclaimed, now jittery with excitement. "A young, inexperienced doctor with absolutely no idea what she's doing!"
The guard liked Harleen Quinzel. She seemed like a headstrong woman, and almost all the guards had high regards for her.
He held back the urge to slam this loony into the wall. "Doctor Harleen Quinzel knows what she's doing. She's an intelligent woman."
"From what I saw, she's as green as a wild mustang!" The Joker slowed his pace, much to the guard's disappointment. "Did you see her face when she saw me? I thought she was going to faint! At first I thought, 'Lady, you have the wrong room.' But then, she told me she was my doctor! Doctor! Can you believe that? What kind of shrink is scared of their patient? Aren't these people supposed to be trained in hiding their emotions or whatever around their patients?"
"It'll be a great idea if you shut up." The guard replied stiffly.
"And here I was expecting an old guy with no life." The Joker smiled smugly. "Ya know, this might just turn out into something I didn't expect. Something interesting."
"Look, Clown, I already don't like you in the first place. Don't give me another reason not to like you."
The Joker diverted his eyes. "Aw, you don't like me? Well, what did I ever do to you?" The guard said nothing in reply. "Don't tell me you hate me when I did absolutely nothing to you personally! Let me guess. Did I kill any of your friends?"
"No."
"Then what did I do? Hmmm?"
"It's what you do that makes me dislike you." The guard said. "The things you do."
"Oh ho ho! We have a judger over her!" Suddenly, the guard didn't have time to let out a grunt when the Joker, with unexpected strength, shoved him against the wall. The guard hit his head and slumped to the ground, barely conscious. The Joker grinned down at him. "Now, if there's anything I don't like, it's someone who reads a book by its cover."
"You're crazy. You're a crazy lunatic that's probably a drug addict!"
The Joker struggled in his restraints to no avail. He snorted in discontent. "Hush, you. I'm working on something here."
It was then the guard realized the Joker was trying to escape. His eyes got wide.
But the Joker was watching the man's expression and knew what he was about to do. Quick as ever, the Joker shot out his leg and kicked the guard in the face.
He went out like a light. The Joker's smile widened. Now all he had to do was get out of here.
Looking both ways down the hall and having no idea where to go, the Joker began hurrying. The lights above him were dim, and one was flickering rapidly above him.
Nobody knew what he was doing. And that's the way he liked it.
He turned a corner. Went through a door. Jogged through a curve. Looked out a window. Walked through another door and—
-ran into three guards.
Holy jester!
The guards immediately knew who he was and lunged, at the same time. The Joker quickly backed up, but lost his balance because of his restrained hands, and fell backwards on his butt. Quick to act, he scrambled to his feet. But it wasn't quick enough.
One guard grabbed his wrists; the other kneed him in the gut. The Joker broke in wild laughter as the pain flared in his gut.
Oh how I missed that!
The man was panting, giving the Joker a crazed look. He drew back his fists and froze; wondering if he should punch the Joker. But the Joker only grinned crookedly, giving the man a daring look.
I do wonder what it's like to fight someone who actually enjoys pain. When will they learn that's all I look for—that's all I want?
The Joker's vision had dots blinking everywhere. Vaguely, he was aware of someone giving him a shot in the back of the neck. His legs buckled. His head drooped.
His world went black.
Harleen woke up the next morning with a huge headache that seemed to throb with every breath. The headache only screamed with every single sound.
She groaned and rolled over in her bed. She was still wearing the high heels, and her hair smelled strongly of hair spray from the night before. She barely had time to wash off her makeup before passing out in her bed from pure fatigue.
Right beside her head, on the side table beside her bed, Harleen's alarm clock screamed in her ear.
Finally, after moments of silent anguish, she turned the alarm off with a simple swipe of the hand. But still, she stayed motionless in the bed.
Doctor Quizel.
Harleen rolled over, accidently falling over the edge of the bed. She hit the ground with a loud THUD. Shaking her head, blinking rapidly, it took a few moments for Harleen to finally wake up.
She didn't care about work today. She'd go and just get it over with. Maybe afterwards she could go do her nails or something like that.
I have all this money, she thought miserably, and I need to spend some of it. When was the last time I actually got my nails manicured?
She found a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Then she simply ran a brush through her wild locks, and since she didn't have time to take a shower, she simply threw her hair in a messy bun. She stared at her reflection in disappointment.
Yeah. Maybe I'll get a haircut.
Five minutes later Harleen was driving to work. She drove like a zombie, only paying attention to what was needed. She nearly missed a stop sign and almost bumped into a car from behind.
This definitely wasn't her day. Everything seemed like a blur.
Ugh. Now I know the true pain of a hangover. Not to self: never drink beer again.
She pulled into her usual parking spot. Practically dragging her feet, Harleen walked into the asylum.
Penny was smiling happily—perfectly content with no hangover. But the moment the two met eyes, Penny lost her smile.
"Why you look like a zombie!" She cried in shock.
"Thanks." Harleen grumbled sarcastically. She inwardly winced. Was it just her or was Penny talking really loud?
Penny was talking to her, but Harleen easily zoned her out. Instead, she focused on getting her uniform on. Then, much to Penny's shock, she simply left the room.
And found herself standing in front of Mr. Todd's door. She knocked, and he told her to open it.
"Mr. Todd," She started, "am I required to visit the Joker again today?"
The name threw realization at her like a bulky rock. Suddenly she felt queasy.
"Why not?" Mr. Todd smiled. "Hey you look really great. You look like…well less tense."
Harleen sighed. "Thanks." I always want to look tense, don't I?
"Well I'll tell the guards to let him into his room. Oh, and Doctor Quinzel? Last night he attempted an escape."
That caught her attention. "Oh really?" I'll talk to him about that first.
"Yes. He knocked one guard unconscious, but ran into three other guards. Thank God he didn't get very far."
Harleen pursed her lips. "I'll talk to him about that."
"Yes!" Mr. Todd clapped his hand gaily. "I love your style, Miss Quinzel! Oh, I mean Doctor Quinzel. Don't hold back from him—and don't be afraid."
Harleen felt suddenly mad. Angry. And she felt like lecturing someone. She took a deep breath. The anger inside of her was dominating the fear.
Minutes later, she walked into the session room. The Joker was sitting in the chair, his hands tied behind the chair, and his lanky legs sprawled out in front of him. He was whistling some unknown tune. But as she walked in, he whistled a low note and held it out.
She rolled her eyes.
"Good morning, Mr. Joker." She greeted politely.
"Morning, Miss Quizel."
"Please refer to me as Doctor Quinzel." She replied stiffly, taking her usual seat across from him. She studied his raw face, with no makeup on. "Where'd your makeup go?"
The Joker narrowed his eyes. "It's not makeup. It's war paint."
"Oh excuse me." Harleen swallowed, nervousness creeping up her arm. "So I heard some very interesting news."
"About the Batman?" He lightened up instantly.
"No." He frowned. "But, about last night. Tell me what happened last night."
"Whatever do you mean?" The Joker blinked innocently.
"I'm going to get to the point." Harleen set down her pencil. "You tried to escape last night."
"Darn I thought they'd keep that a secret." The Joker mumbled.
"Well they didn't. Why did you do that? What motivated you?"
The Joker clicked his tongue. "Simple. I don't like it here. If I can get out, I'm getting out."
"We didn't make this place for your liking. We don't care if you like it or not. The reason you're here is because you committed so many crimes and—"
"—I'm messed up in the head. Yes, yes, I know." The Joker cut her off.
"You're not messed up. You're just ill."
"So how come I get such a young doctor?" The Joker drawled. Harleen froze when his eyes looked her over, much like a fox would. "Hmm, aren't you beautiful? Your husband is a lucky man."
"I don't have a husband, nor am I involved in any kind of relationship." Harleen replied uneasily. Why is he looking at me like that?
"Yesterday you didn't look like this." The Joker pointed out. "Today you look….different. Something about you…"
"Okay, enough of this." Harleen opened her tiny notebook. "This isn't about me. This is about you."
The Joker simply grinned, winking at the young doctor suggestively. Harleen held back a shiver.
"So, where shall we start?" Harleen tapped her chin with the pencil. "Oh! Let's continue off from yesterday. So, Mr. joker, what is your real name?"
"I already told you."
"You never told me."
"Hey aren't you supposed to be recording this?" The Joker changed the subject. "On all the movies I saw, the psychiatrist always records the sessions."
Harleen went along with his question. "I don't record the sessions. See this notebook? I write down important notes instead of simply recording the session. I find that too easy and something very lazy to do."
The Joker nodded in understanding.
"So," Harleen wrote something down, "how old are you?"
"I'll give you a hint. It's from 10 years-old to 100. You decide." The Joker smirked.
Harleen stared at him with a deadpan expression. "Well that sure narrows it down."
"Oohh is that sarcasm I see?"
"I'm guessing you're around 28 to 30 years-old."
"How old are you? I'm guessing you're around 18 or 20."
Harleen found herself blushing. What? Blushing?
"No, I'm 27 years-old. I know I look much older than that, but…"
"No way jose! You don't look a day over 20!"
"Thanks." Harleen shifted in her chair awkwardly. "So, since I told you how old I was, how 'bout you tell me how old you are?"
"I already gave you a hint."
"That's not a hint."
"Pfft." The Joker averted his eyes. "Tough crowd here."
The tension in the room was thickening. Harleen sighed, writing something else down.
"Okay, shall we move on?" Harleen said. "Let's talk about your childhood."
"Let's talk about your childhood." The Joker shot back.
"I'm guessing you don't have many people asking you personal questions like this." Harleen said.
"You've guessed right. Usually they always ask about my scars." The Joker smiled broadly. "Wanna know how I got em'?"
"No. Right now I want to know about your parents." The Joker's smile was wiped from his face in seconds.
"I GOT IT!" He exclaimed, jumping in his chair. Harleen held back a squeak from the sudden loud noise. "I GOT IT, I GOT IT!"
"What?"
"You aren't wearing glasses! That's why you look so different!"
Harleen gasped and touched the area where her glasses were supposed to be. Just like the Joker said, her glasses were gone.
Her heart dropped.
Oh God! I left my glasses at the bar with the bartender! Oh no!
"How come you aren't all sensitive and stuff?" The Joker said accusingly. "Don't you need those glasses to, ya know, see? Now I'm no eye doctor, but I do know for a fact that it's very important to see."
"I've misplaced my glasses." Harleen said quickly. "I'm wearing contacts."
"Liar."
Harleen narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"
"You're lying. I don't see any contacts in your eyes."
"How could you possibly see them all the way from where you're sitting?"
"I have good eyes." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Hey, wanna know what I just noticed? You have really pretty eyes. Normally I like green-eyed beauties, but your eyes have definitely caught my attention. How come you wear glasses? Why would you hide eyes like that?"
"I don't hide my eyes!" Harleen's voice was rising.
"Eh, it's alright. Everyone has something to hide. I mean, I hide my scars with my war paint."
Forgetting about the entire conversation, Harleen hurried to write that down. Jackpot baby! This is gold!
"So you wear your 'war paint' to hide your scars? Are you ashamed of them?"
"Are you a lesbian?"
The room was dead silent.
"What?"
The Joker shrugged. "It's a simple yes or no question. It's not a test—you didn't have to study or anything."
"My morals and status mean nothing at the moment." Harleen said frigidly. "I will ask the questions here, understand?"
The Joker saluted her dramatically.
"So, how long have you been in Gotham?"
"A long time."
"How long?"
"Very long."
"Could you give me a number?"
"Do you wear makeup?" The Joker suddenly asked.
Harleen inwardly groaned. He always changes the subject when an awkward conversation comes. Realizing that was pretty good, Harleen scribbled that down.
"No. I don't wear makeup." She replied simply. "So anyway, what is your opinion of Gotham?"
"She's a jungle full of monkeys that need to know their place."
"A jungle? How come you refer to Gotham as a girl?"
"Yes a jungle, I don't remember stuttering when I told ya that. Gotham isn't just a place. To me, she's more."
"Care to enlighten me?" Harleen never stopped writing. This was really useful information.
"No. I'll save that for some other time."
Harleen stopped writing. "But I think now would be a fantastic time."
"Everything happens at a certain time." The Joker shifted in his seat. "What's your full name, Doc?"
Harleen blinked. "Harleen Quinzel."
"Harleen, huh?" The Joker said. "I haven't heard that name since…well…I've never heard that before."
Harleen glanced at the clock. "Oh gosh. Look how the time has passed! I have to go—it's almost my lunch break."
"Ya know, as shocking as it is, it was very interesting to talk to you, Doc."
Harleen show the relaxed man a strict stare. "I told you to call me Doctor Quinzel. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Is that a rule?"
"Now it is."
The Joker snorted. "Didn't ya know that rules were meant to be broken?"
"Not this rule." She gathered all her supplies.
The Joker simply watched her. "I can't help but wonder why you're not involved with anyone. Would you—"
"—I already explained to you that I won't tell you about my personal involvement. I'm not here to help you on relationships. I'm here to help your well-being. Understand me?"
"I can speak English ya know."
"Oh really?" Harleen grinned to herself, hiding it from the Joker. "What else can you speak?"
"Portuguese, Spanish, French, English, and a little bit of Italian." The Joker grinned.
Wow. That's more than I can speak.
"Good day." Harleen told him, walking out of the room.
Okay, now I have a real problem on my hands.
He seems to conveniently change the subject whenever a tough subject comes up.
Doesn't like to talk about his past.
His age is still unknown, and he doesn't seem ready (at all) to share.
Continues to claim he has told me his name, when he still hasn't.
Wears the "war paint" to hide his scars. Apparently he's self-conscious about them.
Harleen sat at her desk, mulling over the conversation she just had with the Joker. The notes she just took were splayed out before her.
She read over every single one of them. Then read them again.
"Oh noodles," She whispered in aggravation, rubbing her temples, "I've read these notes at least ten times, and I still don't know anything about him! Well, all I do know is he loves knives (obviously), and wears the makeup (not war paint, that's just a ridiculous excuse) to hide the scars. That's it. No name. No age. Nothing."
Well, she thought to herself. It's only the second day. I always have tomorrow to figure out something else.
She was so caught up in her work that she forgot she planned to go out after work. Harleen sighed, looking out the window. It was dark—which meant it was way too late to get her nails done.
"Harleen?" She looked to see Penny peering in her door. "You've been here all day, except for lunch break. Aren't you gonna leave, girl?"
"Yeah. Let me just put everything away."
"Oh and sorry for leaving you last night." Penny smiled. "But I met this one blonde and…"
"It's alright." Harleen took out her ponytail, her hair falling past her shoulders. She shook her head, feeling the stress brush away for a moment. "I left later anyway."
"You didn't meet anyone special?"
"No." Harleen froze. Dear God. I just remembered that I made out with Bruce Wayne last night! "Holy fuck!"
"Whoa!" Penny exclaimed in surprise. "What happened? You never cuss!"
"It's just…" Harleen felt her entire face drain and her cheeks blazed in humiliation. Gosh, how embarrassing! "Well, I forgot that I, uh, left my glasses at the bar."
"Honey, everyone knows you're not blind. You can see perfectly! I just don't know why you insist on wearing those God-awful glasses!"
"I happen to like those glasses." Harleen grumbled, the blush only getting worse.
"Don't worry about it! You have gorgeous eyes. Seriously. I wish you knew just how pretty you are without having to hide anything." Penny sighed. "Well, I better go. See ya later, girl."
Just as Penny closed the door, Harleen groaned in mortification. Bruce Wayne! The famous Bruce Wayne! She kissed him! She touched him! She spoke to him!
Heck, she saw him!
I'm such a dope, she thought. He probably doesn't even remember me, but still…how stupid could I be? I should've known who he was! Everyone knows who he is! But why was he at a bar? Isn't he too rich for that? Hell, he could buy the entire place if he wanted! And why did he bother kissing me—nonetheless noticing me?
"I'm ugly," She told herself. "I have enough proof of that. I just wish…"
She pondered over ways to improve her looks, and finally just sighed from the whole ordeal.
"Why do bad things always happen to good people?" She asked no one in particular.
Only silence answered her.
"Oh, ho ho!" The Joker greeted her as she strode into the room. "Why, look who it is! It's my favorite person in the world."
Harleen rolled her eyes. "Hello to you, too."
"Look here, Doc. I had this dream last night." The Joker began. "Wanna know how it went? Well I'm gonna tell ya anyway. I was in my room, when—suddenly—the door opened with a BANG! I remember thinking, 'what's goin' on?' And guess who I see? Ha ha, well I see, none other than YOU! Yes you. You walked right on in, but wanna know what was interesting? You had a beautiful smile on your face!" He tilted his head so inspect Harleen. "Such a shame you don't ever smile like that. I knew instantly it was a dream! I just, uh, wish I could see you smile like that again. If only once…"
Harleen was interested in everything he was saying. He dreamt of her? That was strangely flattering. That meant he thought of her. Thought of her smiling.
She frowned. He shouldn't be thinking of her. He should hate her.
Oh well. No big deal. It was just a dream.
"So I'm guessing you slept well?" Harleen asked.
The Joker smirked. "Oh I did! Because, after you smiled at me like that in my dream, we, uh, had a little fun."
Harleen dropped her pencil in pure shock. Shaking, she scrambled to pick it up.
"W-what?" She stammered.
"Wanna know what we did?" HELL YES!
"No. We should really talk about something else." Harleen felt herself blush.
"But this is important! I'll fill ya in on all the details. It was action-packed! Mind-boggling!" He whistled. "Boy I haven't had that much fun in a long time!"
Harleen felt like she was about to faint.
The Joker was watching her every expression, enjoying her horrification. "We played cards."
Oh…
The Joker shot her a look. "Why, uh, Doc? What were you thinking? Hmmm?"
"I thought we played Tic-Tac-Toe." Harleen replied quickly.
The Joker burst out laughing. Not just laughing—but really laughing. It wasn't a laugh that was contagious—it sent a shiver down her spine. Very eerie.
"T-that's a good one!" He said in-between laughter.
Harleen felt a sense of pride. It's been awhile since she made someone laugh like that. In fact, she didn't remember ever making someone laugh like that. He obviously thought what she said was hilarious. Unknown to anyone but herself, Harleen smiled and laughed.
Only the Joker saw. And he laughed harder.
Pretty soon, they both were laughing. Harleen felt her eyes water—she was laughing so hard.
Wow! This feels really good! I haven't laughed like that in ages…
Finally they stopped. And by the time Harleen was calm, the Joker was still chuckling, shaking his head.
Harleen grinned over at him, feeling completely at ease. For a moment—a split second—she looked at him through different eyes. She didn't notice his scars. She didn't remember how many people he's killed, or the crimes he's done in the past. She didn't remember how nuts he was to ordinary people.
Something more.
"I'm glad you slept well." Harleen told him. "I wish I could sleep well."
The Joker lifted his eyebrow. "Oh? How come, uh, that you don't sleep well, Doc?"
I should remind him to call me Doctor Quinzel…Oh what the heck. He can call me that. I don't care right now.
"See, I'm staying in a hotel at the moment." Harleen explained. "And people aren't exactly respectful towards their neighbors. Especially if they have kids."
"How come you're staying at a hotel?"
"Because I don't live here. I live in New York, but I came here to learn more about psychology."
"Oohh, I see. Is New York nice?"
Hell no. My parents live there.
"I like Gotham better."
"How come?"
Harleen swallowed. "I just do. I can't really put my finger on it…but I do."
"So, Doc, do ya have any siblings?"
"No. I'm an only child."
"So you're spoiled?"
Harleen diverted her eyes. "Not exactly."
The room was so silent, and the way the Joker was gazing at Harleen made her heart beat. His voice was so mesmerizing and soft…
"Have you ever been…abused?"
Harleen quickly looked away. She refused to look the Joker in the eye. The tension they just took away by laughing was back; ten-fold.
Her throat closed up.
"HARLEEN! Get the fuck over here! Open that God damn door! Daddy would never hurt ya!"
Tears sprang in her eyes.
"Daddy! Nooo! Please leave me alone! I just wanna play dress up with Mommy's makeup!"
Her eyes met the Joker's by accident. He knew. It was like he saw her entire life through her eyes. Never before has Harleen felt so…exposed.
"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"
Harleen abruptly stood up when a single tear escaped her eye. The chair knocked over, and she didn't bother picking it back up. Without another word, she ran from the room, barely picking up her supplies in the process.
And the Joker watched her the entire time.
I'm so gonna lose my job, Harleen immediately thought as she ran out of the building. She didn't bother going into her car.
She had to get away. Get away from everything. If only for a little while…
She didn't know where she was going, nor did she care.
"Harleen, baby? Stay away from Daddy, okay? Promise me you'll do that for me."
She tripped over a twig like a klutz and went falling to the ground. She must've scraped her chin in the process, because she felt something wet dribble down her chin.
"Why? Doesn't Daddy love me?"
Doesn't he love me?
Doesn't he?
Love?
No, Harleen thought bitterly. You've vowed to never ponder over love, Harleen. You know perfectly well how much love hurts. How it never really pays off. What a scam it is. Don't even think about it! Just remember what it did to your parents!
Love is nothing but a lie. A big fat lie that seems to hide behind even more lies.
Harleen just lay there. But she didn't care.
Not. One. Bit.
A/N: I don't really have much to say now. I'll basically be repeating what I said for the previous chapters. Ya know, stuff like, please leave a review, I loved all of your reviews, and I enjoyed writing this chapter. Anyway, please review if you have time and I hope you enjoyed it! There's more to come!
~YolandaFriella
