"Geez, you'd think you wouldn't wanna watch any more stuff about crime after what you've been through…" Chuckie said, re-entering the room with a tray of coffee, but he was shocked to see Harleen scrambling to her feet.
"Sorry…I…have to go," she said, pulling on her coat hastily. "I need to see the police."
"I'll go with you," said Chuckie, putting the tray down. "We'll drive there together…"
"No, I need…fresh air…to clear my head," stammered Harleen. "I…I need to be alone, thank you, Chuckie," she said. "I'll see you soon," she said, racing out the door.
She walked hurriedly down the street, her mind buzzing. The rational part of her brain tried to tell her that the notes couldn't possibly be referring to her, but deep inside she knew that they were. She knew they were from Jack, but she didn't understand why he was doing this. Maybe he wanted to make her pay for getting involved with him – maybe this was some cruel revenge he had planned, to make her go to the police and confess that Harley Quinn was her name that she had used in bed with a notorious criminal, and her patient. But she had to confess the truth – if Jack was kidnapping people now, she had a duty to save them. She couldn't let anyone else get hurt because of her stupidity, even if it did end up costing her career. It was no less than she deserved.
She headed in the direction of the police station, and had the sudden feeling of being watched. She looked around the street at the few random pedestrians, but could see no one obviously watching her. She hurried her pace, and thought she heard someone else keeping pace with her. She tried to reassure herself that she was just being paranoid, that she was just on edge because of this whole shock about the notes. She stopped and looked around again, but there was no one there. She shuddered, trying to remain calm, and started walking again.
She turned the corner and was suddenly seized and dragged into an alley. She tried to scream, but a gloved hand was clapped tightly over her mouth. She looked up to see a pair of glittering green eyes, and a huge smile beaming down at her. "Harley Quinn," it whispered. "My Harley Quinn. I've found you at last."
"Let go of me…" began Harleen, as he removed his hand from her mouth, but he suddenly replaced it with his own, kissing her passionately. Harleen recovered from her shock as she realized she recognized that kiss, and those lips, and that mouth.
"Jack," she gasped, as he drew away at last. "Jack, what…"
But he clapped a hand over her mouth again, putting a finger to his lips. "Not Jack, Harley," he whispered. "Not anymore," he said, removing his hat to reveal the rest of his face. "Call me Joker."
Harleen stared at him in horror. "Oh my God…Jack…" she stammered, raising a hand to brush aside a lock of green hair from his grinning, red-lipped, bone white face. "What…what happened to you?" she gasped.
"Long story," he whispered. "So long, very long, but over now, my Harley Quinn," he murmured, embracing her. "You're here with me at last, and I'm not going to leave you again, not ever. I promise…I…I'm not a joker…"
He held her tightly, chuckling. "But I guess I am now. It's amazing I can still laugh and smile after what I've been through. But now I just can't seem to stop."
"What have you been through?" whispered Harleen. "And why didn't you call me? Or tried to contact me somehow – it's been months…"
"I…I couldn't remember," he stammered. "After what happened to me…I can't remember…a lot of things now. Except you, Harley Quinn. I remembered you, I remembered your face, and your name, but nothing else. I didn't know where I had met you, or when, I just knew…I wanted you back. Nothing made sense without you…I felt…crazy. And I know…you can help the madness go away. You can help it all make sense, you can help me not be crazy anymore. Can't you?"
He was gazing at her with pleading eyes, looking so lost and alone and helpless. "Jack…come with me," she said, taking his hand. "Let me take you home."
"No…not back to the castle," he whispered, shutting his eyes. "Not back to the dungeon. Cold iron bars and darkness and chains, imprisoned and locked up. But there was one light in the darkness, a clown princess, Harley Quinn," he whispered. "She unchained me, she loved me, and we were happy. And then…she freed me from the dungeon, and that's…that's when the monster found me."
"Monster? What monster, Jack?" she whispered.
"A big, black bat," he murmured.
"Batman," whispered Harleen. "Was it Batman?"
He grinned. "Batman," he murmured. "Yes, it must have been. Who else would think it was funny, making a guy as crazy as he is? I…I think he was laughing, or…no…maybe I was. I don't think he laughs…monsters…monsters can't laugh, can they?"
"Oh Jack, he really did a number on you, didn't he?" whispered Harleen, cupping his face in her hands and gently leaning against his forehead. "But it's all right now. I'm going to take care of you, and I'm not gonna let Batman lay a finger on you again. Come home with me – not to the dungeon, but home, where I live, and where you'll be safe."
"Safe," he repeated. "Safe!" he exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "That reminds me – those people I've kidnapped aren't safe. I'm going to kill them all if their families don't…bring me Harley Quinn."
"Can you take me to them, Jack?" asked Harleen, gently. "We're together now, so you can let them go, can't you?"
"I…I guess I can," he agreed, nodding. "But…probably better to silence them. They'll be able to identify me, and a good criminal knows you never leave people who can identify you alive. And I am pretty identifiable these days," he chuckled.
"Jack, trust me, you should release those people," said Harleen. "And together we'll take them to the police station to reunite them with their families."
He giggled. "I can't go to the police station, baby!" he chuckled. "The cops are gonna give me the chair, if they don't just shoot me on sight!"
"No, they won't, Jack," she said, soothingly. "You're a sick man, and they're not going to condemn a sick man to death. You're going to tell them what happened to you, and they're going to put you in my care, and I'm going to help you. We'll be together, I promise," she said, taking his hands. "I won't let you go again."
He nodded slowly. "I'll take you to 'em," he murmured. "But…you have to promise, Harley. You have to promise we'll stay together, whatever happens."
"I promise, Jack," she whispered, kissing him.
"That's not my name," he murmured, grinning at her.
"I promise, Joker," she corrected.
He chuckled, pinching her cheek. "That's right," he said. "Now they're not in the greatest shape – I did need their blood to write those notes with, so some of 'em are cut open a little, but nothing a good doctor can't stitch up in a jiffy," he said, leading her back in the direction of a run-down, abandoned-looking building.
He opened the door to reveal ten people, tied and gagged and bleeding. Harleen tried to conceal her horror as she calmly went over to one and said, "Give me your knife, Jack."
He obeyed, and she cut the ropes binding a hostage. "Please try to keep calm," she murmured, removing the gag. "We're going to take you to the police station, where you can be reunited with your families."
"And the cops are going to arrest that thing, aren't they?" the hostage spat, nodding at Jack.
"He's a sick man," murmured Harleen, releasing another hostage. "Not a thing."
"You expect us to believe that he's just going to go with you voluntarily to the police station?" he demanded. "This is just another game of his – getting our hopes up at being released is some cruel joke he's playing!"
"It's no joke, I promise," said Harleen, cutting another hostage's ropes. "Please trust me – I'm a psychiatrist. You're out of danger now."
The woman whose ropes she cut looked up at her gratefully. "Thank you," she said. "I was praying for Batman to save us."
Harleen tried to keep her expression neutral. "I don't think Batman's ever saved anybody," she muttered, heading over to another hostage. "Or ever will."
When the hostages were freed, Harleen took Jack's hand and walked calmly to the police station, with the hostages following them. Harleen felt Jack's grip like iron in hers, and she smiled encouragingly at him. "Everything's going to be all right," she murmured.
"We'll see, won't we?" chuckled Jack, as they walked through the doors of the station.
Everyone looked up, staring in horror at Jack, and in confusion at the hostages. There was a flurry of excitement as phone calls were made, and a moment later, Commissioner Gordon appeared. "What's going on?" he asked, gazing at the hostages in astonishment. "I don't understand…"
"Mr. Napier has decided to voluntarily release his hostages," said Harleen. "His ransom demands have been met."
Gordon stared at her. "You?" he asked. "You're Harley Quinn?"
"I am," said Harleen, nodding. "Mr. Napier would like to give a statement to the police regarding the vigilante Batman, and his role in all of this. Is there someplace he can do that?"
Gordon nodded slowly. "We'll go to an interview room – call Harvey Dent and Dr. Leland, please," he said to the receptionist. "I think I want them both here for this."
Several minutes later, they were all gathered in an interview room – Harleen and Jack on one side of the table, and Gordon, Dent, and Dr. Leland on the other.
"Just tell us what happened to you after your escape from Arkham, Mr. Napier," said Dr. Leland, gently. "In your own words."
Jack looked at Harleen, who smiled encouragingly at him, squeezing his hand. "I…I have a hard time remembering…a lot of things," he stammered. "But I remember…very clearly…what happened that night. It's like it's burned into my skull, hardwired into my memory somehow...I had left a car somewhere down by the river, and I was trying to find a good place to hide out on foot. I followed the river a little ways until I came to an abandoned chemical factory just outside of town, which I thought would be perfect. Nobody…would find me there. The only problem was that it didn't have a connected phone line, and I needed to…call someone," he said, glancing at Harleen. "So I went outside to try to reconnect the line and…that's when he appeared."
"Go on," said Harleen, squeezing his hand again as he paused. "You're doing great."
Jack nodded, swallowing. "I didn't know…what it was at first…it was like a demon coming out of the darkness, just a giant black shape that struck me square in the face, and knocked me to the ground. I…I tried to retaliate but he was…like this otherworldly monster – nothing I could do seemed to hurt him. Finally, when I realized I couldn't fight him, I ran…back into the factory. I thought I could hide in the shadows above the chemical vats, but…I was wrong. The shadows are his domain. He found me, and beat me, again and again. There was no point to his violence – I would have come with him if he had asked me to surrender. But he didn't – he just kept hitting me. I tried to fight back, broke off a railing and tried to strike him, but I guess…he was wearing armor or something, because he didn't even flinch. He just seized the rail and swung it back at me. It hit me, and I fell backward and…down. Down a long way until I splashed into the chemicals. They did this to me," he said, gesturing to his face. "And something else, they…they messed with my mind so I couldn't remember things clearly, only faces and names, one face and name in particular," he added, smiling at Harleen. "I…I held my breath after I hit the chemicals, hoping he would think I was dead, and I guess he did," he continued. "He left and I…crawled out like this. But I couldn't remember…anything before that. Not even my own name. I…I didn't know where to go or what to do, and the only name I could remember who would help me was Harley Quinn, but I didn't know who she was or how to contact her. So I…did the only thing I could think of to get her attention."
"You kidnapped ten people and wrote ransom notes in their blood," said Dent, nodding. "Yes, I can see how that would be your only resort."
"Mr. Dent, he's clearly not thinking straight," retorted Harleen. "After what's happened to him, I'm surprised he's as lucid as he is. There's no point in defending your pet vigilante after this wanton and needless brutality. You have a duty, as men of the law, to lock him up so he doesn't hurt other innocent people."
"Innocent?" repeated Dent, raising his eyebrows. "You think this man is innocent? Have you forgotten that he tried to kidnap you?"
"And he deserved to be physically and mentally disfigured for that?" demanded Harleen. "That's a pretty strange idea of justice you have, Mr. Dent. The punishment hardly fits the crime…"
"Well, that's not his only crime, is it?" asked Gordon. "I mean, aside from the kidnapping and mutilation of the hostages, he did murder his cellmate, and lots of other people…"
"Why are you defending Batman?" interrupted Harleen, angrily. "My job is not the law, but I think I understand it better than both of you! In this country, we have courts and trials and the rule of law, not some lunatic vigilante drunk on his own power who metes out violent punishments to those he thinks deserve it! That's not how the justice system works, or should work! Whatever Mr. Napier has done, he did not deserve to end up like this!"
"What, wearing clown makeup?" asked Dent. "I'm sure there are worse fates, like being kidnapped and held hostage by a crazed clown, for instance. Have you even checked to see if the makeup washes off?"
"Of course it doesn't wash off!" shouted Harleen.
"Forgive me for not taking Mr. Napier's word for that," replied Dent. "I'm not as trusting as you are as to his story. You'd think you of all people would be more wary, Dr. Quinzel, after being lied to repeatedly by criminals. How many times are you going to let them take you in before you stop being so gullible?"
"What are you talking about?" demanded Harleen, shaking in fury. "Are you saying he's lying?"
"Why wouldn't he?" asked Dent. "Why wouldn't a man like that try every trick in the book to avoid facing justice for his crimes? First he talks himself into a mental asylum, then he talks his shrink into sympathizing with him, and now he's trying to talk all of us into believing this cock-and-bull story about being turned into a permanent clown by Batman. Can't you hear how ridiculous that sounds? Why would anyone trust him after what he's done?"
"Because he's telling the truth!" cried Harleen.
"Is he? Or do you just want to believe that he is?" asked Dent. "You can't just trust the word of a criminal, Dr. Quinzel. But then I understand you people do stick together," he added, looking pointedly at her.
Harleen stared at him, feeling her body shaking in fury, feeling the rage building like a pressure cooker, about to explode in a scream. But she didn't scream. She burst out laughing suddenly, smiling at Jack. "You were right, baby," she whispered. "You were right. You probably don't remember, but you told me they'd judge us as the same, no matter what kinda crimes we committed. And you were right."
She kissed him tenderly. "As I'm also a criminal here, you should probably hear my confession too," she agreed, turning back to face the other side of the table. "I helped Jack escape from Arkham in the first place. We staged the kidnapping together - we had been having an affair, and he wanted me to come with him, but I told him I couldn't throw away my career like that, as if it was something that mattered. But it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because nobody will ever see me as anything else but a criminal, and a woman who was duped by her patients, and a girl way out of her depth in thinking she could help the really challenging cases. But I am so much more than that, and I'm not confining myself to your misguided perceptions anymore. I am smart, and strong, and madly in love. I am Harley Quinn."