What Love Is
By Semerket
Chapter 7: Poetic Justice
"Oh my goodness gracious! Poison Ivy is wearing the same outfit as me! Clutch the pearls!" Joker cackled maniacally at the sight of Ivy in her white straight jacket and wheelchair. "We'll look so great together with our matching shirts. We can be twins today- BFFs! Harley will be so jealous." They wheeled her next to the Joker who was a healthy four feet away from anyone; he was wearing the same thing and also seated in a wheelchair. Fortunately, they had decided to forgo the face mask as it would largely defeat the point of being in group therapy.
'Oh great,' Ivy thought. She was going to have to listen to that fool babble on for a whole hour. If you weren't crazy when you went into Arkham, you sure as hell were when you came out.
He continued on uproariously as he shifted about wildly in his chair. "Someone get us a camera, Poison Ivy and I are having our very own Kodak moment!" It was a rare treat to see 'Nature's Chosen Protector' gussied up like a lunatic. The others were grinning and chuckling as well, while Ivy just glowered impotently at everyone. This was her penance for spitting on an orderly during brunch.
"Hurry up, Harley! Everyone's waiting for you!" Joker snapped unkindly at the blond as she limped along slowly with her crutches. Everyone included: Edward Nygma, Two-Face, Scarecrow, Arnold Wesker, and four patients that Ivy didn't recognize.
"I'm comin' Mistah J." Harley mumbled quietly as she blushed in embarrassment. She was already self-conscious about it.
Ivy snapped, "She's hurt, asshole. One would think you'd be more supportive of your girlfriend." She said the word with contempt.
His eyes flashed as he stared at Ivy coldly. He was grinning, but there was nothing humorous about his tone, "Are you sure that she's my girlfriend, Pammy?" He wasn't a fool. The little scene in the cafeteria had gotten back to him. Thankfully, the seat on the other side of Joker was taken and Harley was able to sit beside Ivy instead of him, much to the clown's annoyance.
A short, pudgy man sat down and took a vacant chair in the group. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties, but he was starting to go bald which made him appear to be older. He was wearing the signature white coat that marked him as an Arkham psychiatrist. He glanced around the circle and made several notes on his clipboard. His gaze settled on Ivy.
"Welcome back to our group, Pamela." His bright voice and unwavering optimism grated on her nerves like salt in a wound. She was back in prison, not a pilates class at the Y. "We're all happy to see you again, aren't we?" He directed his question towards the rest of the group.
The other rogues just stared at her like they were bored and then pointedly looked away to express their disapproval, except Harley, of course. The blond beamed in agreement. Ivy said in a disgusted tone, "The feelings' quite mutual."
One of the patients she didn't recognize rocked back and forth in their chair and blurted rapidly, "I'm very happy to see you, Pamela. I'm very happy… very very happy… very very happy… to see you… Pamela." He obviously wanted approval of some kind. Ivy had never seen him in her entire life.
Two-Face cut him off, "Shut up, freak."
The patient's face crumpled and he looked like he would burst into tears. Dr. Ryan frowned. "Mr. Dent that isn't the way we speak to each other in group therapy."
Scarecrow muttered, "Apparently it is." Ivy heard Edward Nygma snicker under his breath and she smiled slightly as Harvey was chastised like a second grader.
Two-Face just rolled his eyes and put his hands up in acknowledgement and leaned back in his chair, an apathetic expression settled on the 'good side' of his face.
Dr. Ryan redirected his attention to Ivy, "Pamela, would you like to begin our session by saying a little about yourself."
"I detest you- all of you." Harley chuckled at Ivy's reply.
He sighed at the usual answer he received from the plant woman. "Thank you, Pamela, is there anything anyone else wants to share today?" Dr. Ryan glanced around the circle. He had been at Arkham for a few years, if Ivy's memory served her right.
Ivy smirked as her predatory gaze settled on Arnold Wesker; he was sitting a few seats down from her. He fidgeted uncomfortably under her scrutiny. The psychiatrist caught it and cut her off before she could open her mouth, "And verbal abuse of any kind will not be tolerated- that especially means you, Ms. Isley. And you too, Mr. Dent. This is a safe space."
Her smirk devolved into a scowl as she glared at the quack. The highlight of group therapy was breaking the other's down and that silly ventriloquist was such an easy target. She wanted to be the one to make him burst into tears; he was nothing without his dummy crutch. Two-Face already had his fun today.
The redhead shrugged and slumped slightly in her wheelchair. "I didn't say anything."
The doctor arched his eyebrow.
"If there's nothing to share, then we'll continue. During our last meeting you were all given an assignment." There were groans all around the room. "That assignment was to express yourselves in a poem about an issue that is important to you."
"Why don't we go around the circle starting with Mr. Wesker."
Oh great, Ivy thought. They were doing her side first. After listening to five long, rambling, nonsensical poems about the Dark Knight, Dr. Ryan spoke up. "So, is there anyone who did the assignment in a way that is not related to Batman?"
No one's hand went up.
The doctor sighed. "Alright then. Why don't we go with you next, Harley?"
"I didn't do it." She shrugged. Screw this crap. Assignment? What was this- high school? Fortunately she was able to just blame it on rehab.
"Ms. Isley?" Ivy glowered at the doctor, who felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck in response. It was her first day in group therapy since she was re-admitted to Arkham. Of course, she didn't do it. He seemed to remember that. "Oh, never mind."
Joker cackled deviously, "Uh oh, Ms. Isley, was supposed to do the assignment. Something about flowers I'm sure! But why bother we all know how it's going to go: plants, blah, blah, blah, I'm a big dyke, I'll kill you all!"
Ivy simmered quietly as she tried to bore a hole through the wall with her eyes. Too much more of this and she'd be the one being dosed and wheeled out of the room in a fit today.
Dr. Ryan responded, "Let's stay focused-"
"Ooh! Pick me! Pick me! I have one!" Joker bobbed up and down in his seat. The doctor schooled his expression to avoid rolling his eyes. Joker always had something to say. "I have composed a haiku. It's Japanese, you know!" He said very seriously, "Your hand on my neck. Muscles pulsing like a god. My heart goes: Pow! Zap!" His lips made a popping noise on the end of the last word.
There was an awkward silence after that one. Then Joker began laughing maniacally. Harley looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Joker continued through laughter, "My blood is red, my bruises are blue, this is my body after a night spent with you!"
Suddenly Dr. Ryan's pager went off and he stood up and excused himself for a few minutes to make a call. Thank Gaia, Ivy thought. She wasn't in the mood to hear any more of Joker's homoerotic fantasies about the rodent. She could just imagine what Edward and Professor Crane would come up with.
"You okay in there, Red?" Harley referred to the annoying jacket.
"I'll live." Ivy shrugged.
"I'm sorry." Harley felt guilty about earlier. It hadn't occurred to her how security would react when she kissed Ivy since she was a woman and immune.
"I'm not." Ivy winked. Joker glared the exchange; he remembered when Harley was that attentive to his needs. Now she spoke to him like he was an afterthought. That bitch was going to pay.
Two-Face hated poetry day. Both of his personalities had been engaging in an internal battle over who would say what until finally they both just threw their hands up. He needed an excuse to get out of therapy. Glancing around, he quickly saw the answer to his dilemma.
"My, my Harley, you're looking uglier and uglier these days… You look like a wreck!" Joker laughed at his own evil joke.
Harley pretended she didn't hear him, but Ivy could see that it hurt her deeply. Her self-esteem was already hanging by a thread. If only she wasn't in this damn straight jacket. Argh! Ivy had many talents, but she didn't think she could accurately spit on Joker's face from four feet away. She wasn't possessed.
He was still wheezing with laughter, "Accidents don't seem to agree with your face!"
"Yea, well I guess accidents agree more with yours," Harley snarled. Ivy mentally applauded her. She couldn't remember Harley ever talking to him with that much bite.
His ugly face lit up gleefully with amusement, "Ooo! Meow! Tsk. Tsk. Harley girl, is someone feeling self-conscious today?"
"It's all your fault, Mistah J. You cut the breaks." She grumbled under her breath as she crossed her arms.
"Is it?" He said comically as he batted his eyelashes, "Is it my fault, Harley? Are you sure? Because if I recall correctly a certain someone didn't do what I told them. As a matter of fact, if you hadn't failed again then we wouldn't even be in Arkham right now, would we?"
Harley stared at the floor as she fumed.
"Who is looking black and blue? You! You!" He cackled cruelly. "Say you've been awfully quiet, Red. Doesn't Harley look just awful today? Not as sharp as us gals, certainly!"
"Harley is always beautiful." Ivy said to Harley as she gave her a heated look.
Harley didn't say anything, but she blushed and a small smile appeared on her face. Joker scowled as he felt his power over the blond slipping.
"I don't know about that, Red. You haven't seen her in the positions I have." Putting Harley down physically wasn't enough; he wanted to demean her sexually too.
"I bet I have." Ivy challenged with a sensuous smirk. He became so angry that he looked like he might burst. Screw discretion. She didn't care anymore, Harley was HERS now and she would rub it in that ugly little fucker's face until he choked on it. And if he wanted to throw down she'd obliterate him with a daisy.
Bring. It. On.
From out of nowhere, Two-Face came barreling over to Harley, upsetting his chair in the process. He snatched the crutch from her unwilling hands.
"Hey!" She squeaked. "That's mine!"
"We need to borrow this for a second." Ivy could tell by the subtle inflection and deeper tone of his voice that the 'ugly one' was in control at the moment. He turned and bashed Joker upside the head with Harley's crutch. Ivy instinctively leaned away from the ensuing violence as her spirits soared at the scene before her. "Come here, ya little queer!" Joker tumbled out of his wheel chair and tried to scoot away facedown like a worm, but it was difficult (and hilarious!) because he was restrained in the straitjacket. He wailed on the floor pathetically as blow after blow rained down on him.
"Help! Help!" He shrieked and cackled simultaneously, "I'm being accosted by a giant piece of fried chicken! Oh please, please!" He pleaded dramatically, "Take it away! Take it away my eyes are burning from the zombie's hideousness!" He laid there on the floor laughing to the point of tears as blood dribbled out of his mouth and nose while security intervened.
Dr. Ryan sighed as he took out a syringe. He couldn't leave these people for five minutes. It was going to be a long day.
"Thanks, Harvey."
"Anytime ladies." The guards cuffed him and escorted him away.
"Did he just wink at me?" Harley asked.
"Maybe, it's hard to tell on the bad side."