~As I look back upon my life
It's always been with a sense of shame
I've always been the one to blame...~
Barbara Kean grinned ferociously.
Harleen Quinzel was a name she hadn't heard for a long time, and it wasn't one she'd soon forget.
The question was why the red headed boy wanted to know about her. But she learnt that in her line of work, you don't ask questions.
The answers always ended up finding her anyway.
"Ah Harleen," She murmured. "Good choice."
Jerome's eyes narrowed, "And why is that?"
The gleam in the blonde woman's eyes was undeniable.
"Because I know this story first hand. I was friends with her."
/
Jerome was silent for a moment.
"You're kidding." He said facial features as still as she'd ever seen them.
"Nope!" She beamed. "Didn't you know? Before I was sent into this cesspit I was a socialite, daughter of some very rich and influential parents..."
"Who you killed." Jerome supplied.
"Whom I killed, yes indeed. They were the one who destroyed my soul, little by little, repressing who I really was, shattered my dreams..."
Jerome impatiently cleared his throat and Barbara stopped short. "Oops sorry. Who wants to hear about me anyway? You want to hear about little miss sociopath."
She sighed. "Harleen and I ran in the same social circles. We got along well, my parents overly rich fools and her father an overly rich politician. We went shopping together a few times. You wouldn't realize there was anything wrong with her, if you didn't know. But this was the high society of Gotham, everyone who was anyone knew about her past."
She paused. "You know, if you looked at her eyes though, if you looked closely, you could see that she could see you."
Jerome's expression became curious. "Could you... elaborate?" Barbara's facial muscles scrunched, pensive like, before she nodded and tried to find the best way to explain it in a way that didn't sound like insanity and paranoia.
"When she looked it you, it was like she was seeing you, not the fake smiles we put on everyday, not our public image or fabulous looks but us, the soul behind the shell. She could see every little secret, every flaw, every scandal and that's why no one crossed her. There has been rumors about what she could do for many years."
"Like what?"
Barbara's eyes rolled lazily towards him.
"Like murder."
He nodded. "She's sought of an urban legend among the common folk." He spat the words with distaste, every syllable a reminder of the twittering bags of skin and bones not worthy of cleaning his or her shoes. "They said she killed her twin, her grandmother, and this was before her other crimes were revealed."
Despite himself, Jerome could not stop the words from the last conversation he had with Harley from running through his head. "I was adopted." She said. Her expression had become one of recognition. "Do I know you?" Now he was determined to see if he did. He had always had such a clear image of her in his head, but why? Hopefully Barbara could answer that.
She smirked.
"Let's from the start shall we?"
/
Harleen Quinzel was not always a Quinzel. The day she and her twin were adopted they became Harleen and Daphne Robertson. They were adopted by Sally and Peter Robertson, Peter being one of Gotham's most popular politicians.
The whole thing was a publicity stunt, to show how kind and caring they were. The girls were always dressed in frills and lace, and given the prettiest dollies they could imagine. But Harley refused to ever put down the rabbit rag doll her mother made for her, much to her parents chagrin. They even gave her makeup, to cover up the scars. But these toys, these luxuries, were just distractions to keep them occupied while Sally and Peter attended events.
One night they left the girls at home while they attended an important gala, with their nanny of course. That was a night that went horribly wrong.
The twins were playing with their dolls in the kitchen when their nanny left them alone for a few minutes, most likely to go to the bathroom.
The girl continued to play but when they came into a disagreement about who got one of the dolls, Daphne stole the rag doll, Mister Buttons she called him, from Harleen. That was a big mistake.
Harley went over to the kitchen drawer, and a particular knife caught her attention. She knew what she had to do.
She calmly walked over to her sister. And she stabbed her through the stomach.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Her nanny found her standing over the body, clutching Mister Buttons to her chest... and smiling. It wasn't even an evil smile, like it should've been. It was simply the innocent smile of a child who was proud of the stick figures she'd drawn on the concrete. The smile of a child who'd scored an A on a test,not the smile of a child who had just maliciously murdered her sister in cold blood.
Her nanny promptly fainted.
When her parents arrived she was still there,still smiling, her Mary Jane shoes now surrounded by the crimson pool that was continuously leaking from Daphne's body, but it did not hide the metallic shine of the blade, glinting in the kitchen light, lying by the corpse's side.
"Shhh," Harley said. "She's sleeping!"
It took a few minutes for Sally and Peter to break out of their horrified stupor. Once they got past the fear, they realized that if this ever got out, it would be very bad for their image. How would it sound if one of the twins they adopted was a psychopath? How would it make them look? Like they couldn't make good decisions,that's how they would look. And if they couldn't make good decisions for their family how could they make good decisions for Gotham? That wouldn't get them any votes.
So they pulled Harley aside and had a talk with her. She shouldn't have done this. Killing people is wrong. She mustn't do it ever again. If she doesn't want to get taken away to the place for bad people, she has to do what they say. She has to say a man broke in while the nanny was unavailable, and when Harley grabbed a knife to defend herself, the bad man stole it from her and stabbed her sister, before leaving Harleen shocked and scared. The nanny saw the body and fainted. That's what happened.
They roused the nanny and told her this was what happened.
"No!" She screamed. "I saw her, I saw her she was smiling at me, like I was to be proud of her or something. "
She shut up after they offered her $2000 dollars to keep quiet about the incident.
So that's what went to the press. The Robertson's had asked for Commissioner Jacobs himself. They paid him huge amounts of money to get rid of any evidence relating to Harley, and she got off Scot free.
But next year she did it again.
She'd always liked the Grandmother better than the rest of the Robertson's. She'd always treated Harley as if she was a real person, not a puppet on strings, just a source of entertainment for Gotham's general public.
But when Daphne died, she'd gotten the taste of a feeling she hadn't gotten since the death of her mother.
She wanted it again.
And none of the animals she mutilated were providing her the same satisfaction as when she drove the knife through her very own twins flesh.
She was going to do it again.
So she lured out her Grandmamma to the roof. "Let's look at the stars Grandmamma! Can you tell me their names?"
"Well there's Alpha Centuri, Sirus, Vega, Bellatrix, Hamal..."
She was still reciting their names when Harley pushed her off the ledge.
Her parents had to bribe the Commissioner again but Harley didn't care.
This feeling was all kinds of amazing, an elation that lifted her off of her feet and she lost complete control, the emotion itself was an ocean that dragged her within it's depths and she was drowning, absolutely drowning it!
Was this what it was like to feel?
Not to pretend to feel but to really, really be torn apart in a whirlwind of despair that removes the very stitching of your soul and leaves you completely undone.
She loved it.
She loved this despair.
But it was faster than the wind and gone so suddenly.
She was bored.
She needed more.
She decided to bring this feeling to the whole world.
For what was as thrilling and chaotic as despair?
/
Harleen Quinzel decided that year that she ought to participate in extracurricular activity's. Her parents liked this idea, it would keep her busy and out of the house, and it would look good on her college application.
First she started with gymnastics and ballet, which she had quite the flair for. Her flexible limbs allowed her to execute grand leaps and flips that no one had ever quite seen before.
So no one argued when she asked to train in the martial arts.
She quite liked Silat and Ninjitsu the most, but she dabbled in Karate, Tae Kwondo and even began fencing. She excelled at everything and she received many awards but every time she mastered something new, she'd get bored.
So her repertoire rapidly grew. Drama and acting classes, archery, piano, Competitive dart throwing, Violin, she even joined the pistol club at the local gun range yet not a single person complained, even though the rumors about were still flying around.
She was studying too. From a young age she'd shown interest in anatomy, chemistry and biology, but most of all it was the mind that fascinated her.
And so began Harleen Quinzel's journey to become a psychologist.
/
She soon had to attend the Gotham School Of Excellence, when she got too smart for her governors and governess's to teach her. She had also morphed from an adorable little girl to a sultry beauty with bright blonde waves, a curvy figure that went well with anything she wore, and those wide blue eyes.
Harleen was a hit among the students despite all those rumors, if anything that made her more mysterious and alluring. She kept an active social calendar, becoming head cheerleader and an honor roll student. She gathered a small group of girls around her and anyone who hung out with Harley became envied and powerful.
But there was a heavy price to enter the group.
You had to tell Harleen all of your secrets.
You couldn't hide anything from her, many tried but she always, always knew. Sometimes they felt like she knew them already and that she was just taunting them by making them say it. But at the same time the girls loved this initiation ritual because Harley never told the secrets and she had this way about her, like if she bothered to acknowledged you, you were the most special person in the world. She was just so far more worldly and beautiful and smart than anyone else they'd ever met.
But it was this that made her more dangerous than ever.
/
When Harleen was 11 she had to attend yet another gala held by some ambassador, with her parents and she had nothing to pass the time with but a sketch book which she doodled and scribbled in while her parents kissed the asses of Gotham's higher up's.
When she found that it was missing she was filled with anger. Well, as much anger as it was possible for her to pretend to have.
Oh don't be judgmental. It gave her something to do.
She marched out of the Ambassador's mansion and into the expansive backyard only to see a brunette girl standing by the pool, a girl named Penelope Martinez, who also attended the same school.
And between her immaculately manicured fingers, was Harley's book.
Let's play a game, a game my dear.
She walked over to Penelope, who smirked greedily. "I know what you've been up to Harleen. I mean, I've always had my suspicions but this time it seems the rumors really are true."
She begun to circle her.
A game of fun a game of fear.
"You act like you're this perfect rich bitch who is so smart and so pretty and oh so popular. You think you're little miss Dr Harleen Quinzel, the young aspiring psychologist. But no, you're no better than the people you want to treat. An insane therapist, who really would have thought?"
Harleen raised an eyebrow.
A knife, blade, bullet, gun.
The malicious spark in Penelope's eyes grew. "What the matter, wondering how I know you still refer to yourself as Quinzel? The name of your dead mommy dearest? The name of your dead twin? It's scrawled all over the tattered notebook darling." She sneered.
"Do you think you're better than us or something? You and that Narrows accent you hide, over Gotham's high society? You are nothing compared to us! And soon everyone else will know to, when I expose you in a few minutes. And if you think you can do something about it, then you really are crazy."
She started towards the gala but Harley firmly grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back in front of her.
"I am not... crazy."
I can't, I can't, which one, which one?
She stared straight into Penelope's earthy brown eyes which were wide with fear.
Because she saw something in Harley's blue ones.
Something that shouldn't be there.
The book fell from her fingers and fluttered to the floor.
Two, seven, eight, none.
Harley gripped so tightly to Penelope's shoulders that it would leave bruises, but she didn't have much time to dwell on that thought before Harley pulled them both into the pool.
Just you wait, we've only just begun!
Penelope sputtered as Harley dragged her deeper towards the blue tiled bottom, and she couldn't understand why, try as she might, she couldn't swim back up to the top. She felt so heavy, as if the world didn't want her anymore. As if she was dying and being sent to heaven.
She could see one of the angels now, flying down with arms outstretched, and it's golden light around her head shining like a halo. It was grabbing her, taking her up to the heavens.
The angel had such a lovely smile.
Then she realized, that this couldn't be an angel.
Angels didn't smile.
This was Gotham, the city where angels were cruel and delivered wrath from the gods. Heaven and it's angels had forsaken this cesspit of human filth and crime.
No this was not an angel.
It was a demon.
She realized then that Harley was drowning her.
She began to struggle to the surface but Harley was stronger from all those times lifting up the other girls in the cheerleading squad. But Penelope's straining lungs got one taste of oxygen and she burst to the top only to have Harley push her head under again.
"What.." Harley whispered quietly, sweetly almost, "Do I decide?"
Spots were growing in Penelope's vision and darkness was coming very rapidly now. The demon was dragging her to hell.
"You decide... Who..." Penelope's voice faded out as the darkness drowned her in it's wake.
The last thing she saw was the demon, disguised as an angel, smiling down at her.
/
Sally and Peter found Harley a few minutes later seated over Penelope's motionless body. Sally let out a cry of panic and ran over to her. "Oh Harley what have you done? How do we explain this?" She broke out into sobs.
"Oh be quiet." Harley groaned. "She's only unconscious, she's still very much alive. But of course that's not what you're worried about, is it? You're worried that this will look made for your 'campaign' and your 'family image'."
Her parents looked shell shocked. Never before had she spoken to them like that.
Harley smirked. "I'll take your silence as your agreement. Now I know how to clean up this little mess and don't worry, this whole situation happened because the girl was going to expose us..." She placed emphasis on this word, to show that this girl was a threat to their little facade.
"And it wasn't like I could do nothing about it. I had to take care of it. And like I stated before I know how to fix this. But in doing so you have to do exactly what I say, or I'll go to the press and tell them everything, but I'll also reveal what you did to me at drama. And you know I'll be fine then and you guys will have to pay for that. Now, do we have a deal?"
Her parents petrified expressions told her the answer to that but after a moment they nodded any way.
She giggled.
"Ok then, now what you guys will say what happened was..."
/
"And so the press proclaimed Harleen a hero, the star student who saved her schoolmate from drowning at a party. Sadly the doctors found that when Penelope woke from her coma 2 weeks later, that she was suffering from delusions and hallucinations, most likely due to the concussion she got from the bottom of the pool. They shipped her to Arkham and she hasn't been heard from since."
Jerome was, for the first time in a long time, shocked. "Wow... and you're saying that the Penelope girl is still here?"
Barbara nodded. "Yep, she's not down here though. Since she was just sick and not a criminal they put her upstairs, the same level that Crane boy is on."
"Hmm... very interesting. What's even more interesting is how detailed those stories were. How do I know you're telling the truth about the whole shebang?"
Barbara sighed. "For one, like I said, I knew the girl even though I wasn't close to her. But then again barely anyone was. Two, I dated Jim Gordon and often had dinner with him and Harvey. And he likes to tell stories of his past cases and of course Harleen's was the biggest. And also... I saw the encounter with Penelope."
Jerome's ginger eyebrows rose several inches up his milky forehead. "How?" He asked suspiciously.
"Up in that Ambassador's mansion? There is several balconies accompanying the suites, Romeo and Juliet style. And that's where I was, sipping a martini when that happened. I felt conflicted about it at first, but I really like Harleen. She's spunky, she's clever and very entertaining to say in the least. Back then I used to say she was defending herself, the girl was blackmailing her after all. Even though Harleen also was blackmailing her parents but I didn't care. I think she knows that I saw it though. She always knows these sought's of things, things no little girl should know."
The little crease of skin just above his eyes creased in confusion. "But... what was Harley talking about, with the "she decides" thing. What does she decide?"
Barbara bared her teeth at this new piece of information. "Harley huh? Looks like someone has a nickname for her already. Care to share ginger?"
The annoyance glinted in his green eyes and his voice dropped several pitches. "Tell me." He growled.
Her pink lower lip jutted in a pout. "Spoil sport." She winked, and then she shook out her hair. "I don't know what that means. I'm guessing it was something in that book Penelope stole."
Jerome perked in interest, and leaned forward. "What was in the book?" Barbara rolled her eyes. "Look kid, no one knows, except the little drowned rat. If you're so curious why don't you ask her, a simple stroll upstairs would do the trick."
Jerome looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging and bounding us towards the iron gate that kept them in the rec room. He only got two steps away when he heard the words that would change his view on life forever.
"But that's not even the best part! Haven't you ever heard of the Dollmaker's Daughter?"
Notes: WHOOP THERE IT IS! Aye aye yes yes yes! I'm so happy to FINALLY churn out this extremely long chapter. I apologize for it's length but there was a lot to cover as you would have read. AND DID YOU GUESS IT? DID YOU GUESS HARLEY'S DAD? Gold star if you did, cuz you are a smart cookie. I dropped many hints including the BIG ONE AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER! I'm really excited to do this and see where this goes because no one, absolutely no one has done this before.
The irony is, my Harley Quinn's back story is one I took from a mini novel I made quite a few years ago with an insane female lead character and this Harley is heavily based on that character who was not originally Harley Quinn or dating anyone. Her father was a... well you should have guessed it by now, and then I found out that there was a villan in the Dc comics EXACTLY LIKE HIM and I've been in love with The Joker, first Heath Ledger, now Jerome, for an awfully long time and I have always wondered... what if Harley was just as strong as the Joker, just as feisty and insane in her own right? What if that was what the Joker fell for, and she falls for him as well. I wanted to see them as equals, see their personality's crash and collide like an ocean in a storm, waves trying destroy each other so they can gulp for air. And yet they'll always come back to each other, because they make each other feel something they can't get from anything else and I am obsessed, absolutely obsessed with that idea.
ALSO CORY MICHAEL SMITH INTERVIEW AT THE END OF THE MONTH, SUBMIT YOUR PERSONALIZED QUESTIONS IN NOW TO ME SO I CAN GIVE THEM DIRECT TO CORY, WHO WOULD LOVE TO TALK TO YOU! You will get you answers UNCHANGED, DIRECTLY from YOU to HIM! I am legit so excited for a behind the scenes look at this season of Gotham (and maybe next season *wink wink*)
P.S JONATHAN FRIGGIN CRANE IS GONNA BE JOINING OUR LITTLE CAST HERE IN THE FABULOUS STORY OF LOVE YOU JUST A LITTLE TOO MUCH! And maybe we will finally find out why the Joker and the Scarecrow dislike each other sooo much!
So hold on to your hats folks, cuz you ain't seen nothing yet!
