Laurenmlbc – Hey, thanks! I'm glad to hear you think I'm pulling the Joker off okay. He's by far the hardest character I've ever tried to write, and I'm doing what I can to do him justice.
yayme2012 – I appreciate your review. I'm doing my best to stay consistent with the Dark Knight's Joker, and it's nice to hear that my OC is interesting and not just boring.
dsfjr1190 – Thanks, I hope you enjoy the rest...
Note: This chapter gets somewhat dark (nothing graphic), so be warned if you have a problem with angst. Really, it's not so bad, but I thought it was worth mentioning...
Disclaimer: I do not own the Joker, etc.
C H a P T e R 3
It had been a long night. Guzzling down the lukewarm cappuccino that she had picked up at a nearby coffee shop earlier in the morning, Natalie hastily strode toward the main entrance to Arkham Asylum. After an interminable night of restlessly tossing and turning in bed, she had finally managed to drift off and get a few hours of sleep before she had to wake up the next day and prepare for work. Having slept for a little under three and a half hours, she figured that her only chance of surviving the afternoon and staying afloat would be to consume vast quantities of caffeine. She had always been a bit of an insomniac, her mind never fully able to shut down even when her body so desperately needed to rest, but she could not recall a time in her life when it had been so frustratingly obstinate. Replaying her first, nerve–racking encounter with her new patient over and over in her head like a continuous reel of film, she had sat awake for hours on end, unable to find an effective distraction to tear her thoughts away.
The Joker.
Their initial meeting had been strange – he had not been quite what she had expected. He was clearly mad, she could not deny that, but he had also been highly intelligent. She had assumed that he would be abrasive and display a certain level of violent tendencies, but he had actually refrained from showing any kind of aggressive behavior during their prior session. How he would have behaved had he not been restrained by a straitjacket, she could only guess. He had also been articulate, albeit extremely misguided in his views and beliefs. His deranged mentality had sadly led him astray, driving him to the point of insanity. He was an enigma of sorts, but one that she planned to unravel and solve, no matter how long it might take. She had been selected for his case because she was one of the best qualified analysts in her field, and she did not mean to disappoint her employers...or herself.
Pausing outside the asylum doors, Natalie turned when a familiar voice suddenly called out to her:
"Miss Harrison?"
"Gordon?" she asked aloud, more to herself than to the man approaching her. She returned the gesture when he greeted her with a polite smile. "Commissioner Gordon, I should say. I don't believe I've had the chance to formally congratulate you on your promotion..."
"Oh, no need to bother," the kindly Commissioner replied. "Trust me, I've heard enough 'congratulations' and 'well done's to last a lifetime. I was just wondering if I might trouble you for a moment of your time?"
"Of course," Natalie said. "I would ask what this is concerning, but I think I already have a pretty good idea."
Gordon frowned. "Yes, I suppose you would."
"However, I'd rather not discuss it out here," she stated as she motioned toward the doors. "Would you care to join me in my office?"
Together, Natalie and Commissioner Gordon made their way through the winding halls of Arkham, exchanging pleasantries and idle chatter while they walked. Once they reached her office, they stepped inside and securely closed the door behind them. Natalie couldn't help but smirk when she turned to her visitor and noticed him curiously glancing around at the numerous unpacked boxes and loose papers strewn about the floor.
"It's, uum...it's a lovely office," he commented.
"I haven't really had time to decorate yet," she remarked, her smirk growing even wider when he awkwardly nodded his understanding. Her amusement faded an instant later. "So, I gather you are here to talk about the Joker?"
"Yes, unfortunately, I am," Gordon replied. "He's safely locked away, I should hope..."
"He is," Natalie confirmed. "And as you know, this place is built like a fortress. He won't be getting out anytime soon."
"Actually, he will," Gordon retorted, eliciting a puzzled look from the young doctor. "The Joker's trial will be underway in two weeks' time. We're concerned that there may be an attack on his convoy during transport."
"An attack?" Natalie questioned. "By who?"
"The Joker's made a lot of criminals rich, but not all of his lackeys were in it for the money," he explained. "Most of them are just as crazy as he is." He thoughtfully paused before continuing, "Well, maybe not just as crazy, but close enough. Furthermore, they're devoted."
"And you're really afraid they'll attempt to free him?"
"Judging by what he has convinced them to do in the past, it's very probable," Gordon said with a weary sigh. "We've already picked up a group of conspirators plotting to bomb a building downtown. We can't be sure if they were really the Joker's men or copycat's, but they were all wearing rubber clown masks when we found them. They said it was their way of sending a message to the people of Gotham."
Natalie arched an inquisitive brow. "What message?"
"They were protesting the Joker's imprisonment," he answered. "The message was: Release him, or the city will burn."
"Was this an isolated incident?" Natalie asked, pensively stroking her chin.
"So far," Gordon replied. "But chances are his real followers are still out there. And somehow I get the feeling that if we did release him, Gotham would only burn faster."
Once again, Natalie took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders before entering the room; and once again, two armed guards accompanied her. Fortunately, she now had the advantage of experience on her side. During their first session she had been completely in the dark, with no clue of what to expect beyond what she had read in his extensive file. Now, however, she had a general idea of what precisely she was waltzing into. He had been genuinely indifferent when she had brought up the subject of death, and the most vocal when he had been allowed to go off on his anarchic rant. Having mulled over several different possible ploys and strategies during her sleepless night, she had eventually come up with a tactic that had a slim chance of succeeding, though it was exceedingly risky with a deceptive mind like the Joker's...but she had to try. She could only pray that her new gambit would pay off in the end.
Dr. Waterson had mentioned in his records a number of times that he had made the most progress when he had unintentionally allowed his own anger to surface. The Joker, it seemed, had on rare occasion opened up, even if only slightly, and become more receptive during these particular exchanges. Considering this, it had occurred to Natalie that he could perchance be more likely to engage her if she presented herself in a more argumentative way, as opposed to deliberately acting impassive as she had done before. The scenario could unfold and play out to her advantage, or it could lead her nowhere fast. Either way, she couldn't see how she could possibly do any worse than she already had during their last visit.
Her patient welcomed her with an unsettling smile while the guards positioned themselves on either side of the door behind her. Lounging in his chair, he crudely smacked his lips as she tentatively took a seat across the table from him.
"Just couldn't stay away, could you?" he spoke up.
"If I stayed away I wouldn't be doing my job very well," she sharply retorted, suddenly conveying an obvious air of hostility.
"The doctor is in!" he exclaimed in delight. "Feeling feisty today, are we, Miss Harrison? Hmm?"
"We're not here to talk about me, we're here to talk about you," she snapped back, glaring across the table and earning an amused grin from her patient. "And it's Dr. Harrison, not Miss."
Natalie intently studied his frightening, scarred visage for a long moment before proceeding:
"You wasted my time yesterday," she finally continued. "Today I would like some answers. Do you feel like answering a few questions for me, or should I just leave and come back a little later when you're feeling more forthcoming?"
The Joker, in turn, studied Natalie for a moment himself before flashing a wide, gratified smile. "Aah, a woman after my own heart...how about that can–do attitude!"
"I'll take that as a yes," she replied, clasping her hands and resting them on the surface of the table in front of her. "Where would you like to begin? With those scars, perhaps? How did you get them?"
Tilting his head to the side, he merely narrowed his eyes and feigned indecision as he made a show of debating over whether or not he would oblige and answer the query. Natalie remained silent and patiently awaited his response.
"How do you think I got them, doctor?" he asked at last.
"I don't know, you tell me," she retorted. "Did you do it to yourself?"
"Now, why on earth would I do a thing like that?"
"Some people prefer to inflict pain and bodily harm on themselves," Natalie replied.
"What, are you crazy?! No–no–no, you got it all wrong, doc...I love me," the Joker whimpered, his expression a mixture of mockery and childlike innocence. Then, readjusting himself in his straitjacket, he abruptly cleared his throat. "So, listen...you want the truth?" Casually leaning forward in his chair, he impulsively wet his lips before delving into his explanation:
"I was a depressed kid growing up, and my father...he tried everything. He tried giving me the pills, but they didn't work. He tried the therapists, but they didn't work. He'd almost given up when one night he got this brilliant idea that it might cheer me up if I could wake up in the morning and see my reflection smiling back at me. You know, in the mirror? See, he, uuh...he was trying to help brighten my day. So, with this trusty old knife he always used to carry around, he went at it. And you know what? It worked...now I see the funny side. Now, I'm always smiling."
Horrified by the story, Natalie faltered for an instant before quickly composing herself and resuming a neutral demeanor. She inwardly cringed when she realized that the Joker had caught a glimpse of her momentary lapse, a faint glimmer of satisfaction twinkling in his eyes.
"Is that the truth?" she asked, silently rebuking herself for the foolish blunder. "There have been various accounts reported in which you have related similar stories, though they always differ in one way or another. Given the history of these inconsistencies, how am I to believe you're not lying to me now?"
Curious, the Joker cocked his head to the side. "Whad'da ya say we lighten the mood with another joke?"
"There won't be any jokes today," Natalie retorted. "I'm here to help you, not for your enjoyment."
"This doesn't work unless you make nice, doc," he persisted as he flopped back in his chair. "I bet you know some one–liners that could really make a man blush. We're, uuh...not so innocent as we look, are we?"
"Tell me about the rest of your family," Natalie said, doing her best to ignore his incessant goading. "What about your mother, or siblings?"
"Well, let's see here..." the Joker began, nonchalantly clearing his throat, "What can I say about the dear old family? Mother baked cookies and read me bedtime stories, and father...father dressed up like Santa on Christmas."
"If you're not going to take this seriously – "
"What's wrong, doc...not what you wanted to hear?" he brusquely interrupted. "See, you shrinks are all the same. You want the tragic, abusive childhood, and your pathetic sob stories. You know, so you can find your deeper meanings. You don't wanna hear that I was tucked in safe and sound every night, 'cause that wouldn't fit your pattern. That wouldn't fit your, uuh...delicate little mold."
Furrowing a brow, Natalie contemplated before responding:
"Let's try a different approach. Why don't you tell me what you're thinking about right this minute," she suggested. Visibly intrigued by the proposition, the Joker rudely smacked his lips and scooted forward in his chair, eager to hear her out. "Describe to me what's running through your mind at this exact moment."
"Well, let's see here..." he trailed off, shifting his focus to the ceiling as he pondered to himself. "I'm thinking about...my nose."
Sighing in exasperation, Natalie reluctantly took the bait. "Your nose? Would you care to elaborate?"
"See, this fashion statement of theirs..." he said as he indicated his straitjacket with a curt nod, "...it may be the new style, but, uuh...it does make it hard to scratch your nose."
"I'll make a deal with you," she firmly shot back. "If you give me one honest answer as a gesture of good faith, I'll see what I can do about removing the jacket."
Natalie glanced over her shoulder when one of the guards behind her cleared his throat disapprovingly. Brushing off the interruption without so much as a word, she directed her attention back to her patient and expectantly peered across the table at him. With a gleeful grin plastered on his face, he lazily slouched in his chair and wrinkled his nose, as if attempting to ward off a bothersome itch.
"Pulling strings and bargaining with patients, Dr. Harrison? Not very professional, is it? Cutting a deal must qualify as a breach of ethics..."
"Would you like to sit here and discuss my moral code, or would you rather have your hands back? Which will it be?" she asked, not the least bit surprised by the ensuing silence. "I'll start with a simple question, and we can take it from there. Why do you wear the face paint? Is it your way of distancing yourself from others, or is it merely to hide the scars?"
"Hide?!" the Joker suddenly exclaimed, throwing his head back in a wild fit of laughter. Gasping for breath, he continued to cackle as his gaze returned to the young doctor. "I'm the only one acting like myself! No, the rest of you...you're the ones hiding. Cowering behind your expensive banquets and fancy cocktail parties, too afraid to show the world who you really are. All because you're worried you might lose your precious Garden of Eden. Now, you take a guy like me...I allow the world to appreciate me for what I truly am. I'm not afraid to step out of the shadows and shine!"
"Then why wear it?"
"That's some very flattering make–up you have on there," he cheekily replied. "You ladies like to think it improves your looks, hmm? Maybe the two of us should be sharing a room, doc. I know I wouldn't mind the company."
"Fair enough," Natalie said with a frown. "We can move on to another topic if you'd like. Tell me, how old were you the first time you took a life?"
"How old...how old..." the Joker absent–mindedly repeated, quietly humming to himself while he considered his response. "Aah, I remember! It was, uuh...12 minutes."
Natalie's frown deepened. "What does that mean?"
"See, my mother...the night I showed up she left the hospital in a body bag. Medical complications and all that," he clarified, almost pleased with himself. The casual tone in his voice nearly sent a chill running down Natalie's spine. "Poor thing, died before she got the chance to see her own newborn son open his eyes. Her time was up, but as for me...I was just getting the ball rolling."
"I thought you said your mother read you bedtime stories," Natalie sharply retorted as she fought to drive the disturbing tale from her mind.
"Did I say that? How strange..."
Her shoulders slumping in resignation, Natalie took one last look at her patient before grudgingly rising from her seat. Her new tactic had not paid off. It had only provided her with more lackluster results, though she preferred to view the failure as a lesson, if nothing else. The Joker had proved impervious to her futile efforts...she had been unable to stir a reaction, even after having done everything short of screaming across the table at him. She had played the role of the antagonist, but to no effect. In spite of this, a relationship had definitely been established, however turbulent the bridge may have been. Regrettably, between the two of them, he had plainly established himself as the superior. She knew that her method would have to be altered drastically before she could sit back down with him for their next session.
"Oh, doctor, aren't you forgetting something?" the Joker called out as she made her way toward the door to depart. "Weren't you even going to say goodbye?"
Pausing in the threshold while her armed escorts held the door open for her to exit, she briefly glanced over her shoulder before continuing on her way.
"I'll see if I can't do something about that itch..."