© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Six-Panic Attack

~Arabella Jones~

Harvey Dent wasn't in the mood for my patronising words or sarcastic comments; I found that out the second I sat down across from the Two Faced man. "I don't even want you to speak to me." He concluded, obviously the man was in a foul mood today. I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Harvey-" I was cut off by a quick glare from him, the words died dramatically in my throat.

My lips pressed themselves into a thin line, hands tightening into fists. "No. Okay, Harvey, no, I am the psychiatrist, don't make me give you the same lecture as I did the Joker." I raised my head and straightened my back. It was said that making yourself look more...dominating had a fearing effect on the person you were trying to...dominate.

Harvey sat up, leaning close to my face. I tried not to cower, but couldn't help leaning backwards a little. "Get out." He snarled, lip twisting upwards. Taking in another deep breath, I got up and simply walked out. The session was only five minutes long, but there was no way I could possibly get through to Two Face when he was in that kind of mood.

I had what was commonly known as a 'short fuse'. My temper was bad, and it didn't last very long either. When it got to boiling point, the results could sometimes be disastrous. It was best I left the cell and calmed myself before visiting the Joker. I wasn't sure I could tolerate any more psychopaths today without breaking down.

Slamming Harvey's file down on my oak desk, I scrambled for the Joker's with trembling fingers. Maybe my mental stability wasn't good enough for this job? No, I wasn't going to let one bad session get to me. Straightening my posture and 'pulling myself together', I took one final deep breath before leaving my office. That room was becoming way too familiar.

The Joker's cell was the furthest to walk to out of all of my patients. I strolled through the halls, my shoes not making a sound on the hard flooring. I got fed up of constantly hearing heels clicking against the tiles, it was driving me nuts. I was coming across the last corner when I heard cackling which was unmistakably the Jokers.

Hurrying to make my way to his cell, I watched completely entranced as the clown simply sat there, at his desk, switching between laughing hysterically and grinning widely. "Someone's in a good mood." I noted as I entered the glass cell, shoving my badge back into my pocket.

"Started as soon as he heard that you were on your way." Called one of the guards, their voice slightly muted from the thick glass.

I looked curiously at the Joker, to see him gazing back at me. "What can I say? I've been looking forward to our session, doll." He said slyly, causing a shiver to run down my spine.

"Now, now, Jack. Let's not get ahead of ourselves." I told him, sliding into my seat. He gave me a pointed look, telling me that he'd do whatever he wanted.

"Doll, it'd do you good not to call me Jack again."

I flicked through several different pages, finally coming to a clean one. I clicked my pen and put it back down on top of the note pad before raising my eyebrows at the clown. His war paint was beginning to come off, the white smudging at his forehead and cheeks. His blackened eyes trickled down his cheek bones and almost reached his jaw. Although the redness of his lips faded over the scars, it remained pure on his actual lips from the amount of times he licked them out of habit.

The Joker rolled his shoulders, laying back into the chair. "So what's it today, Doc? Childhood? Future expectations? Give anything a try." He ran his fingers through his messy green hair, dragging his hands down his face afterwards-smudging even more of his clown make-up. I held back a giggle as I saw the after effects.

"I was thinking that today could be your turn. Let's try something new, yeah? You ask me the questions, I'll still find out enough information about you."

Obviously taken aback by my suggestion, the Joker slid his chair back before recollecting himself once more. "Okay, doll." He elongated the 'l's as he stood up from his seat. My heart immediately began to pound in my chest as I realised I could've sent him the wrong signals.

My whole body tensed as he made his way towards me, somehow unable to walk in a straight line. He didn't wear his thick, purple coat so his body was left covered by purple trousers, a blue, hexagonally patterned shirt and a green waistcoat. His tie was gone, and his top button undone, his sleeves were also rolled up just above his elbows. His shoes were black, patent and in surprisingly good shape.

My lungs nearly failed and my heart almost exploded as the Joker placed both hands on my shoulders, stroking his thumbs along each shoulder. "Doc, why so serious?" He said lowly, voice right by my ear. "Relax, you're so tense." No matter how hard I tried, my body remained rigid. The Joker pressed his thumbs harder against my shoulders as he trailed his hands closer to my neck.

I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat, and my eyes widened as his hands cupped my neck. "Tell me this Doc, why are you so afraid?" His fingers tightened around my fragile neck and I was on the verge of having a panic attack. In a split second decision, and out of pure, heated fear, I dug both elbows back, one hitting the clown in the chest and the other landing squarely on his gut. They were surprisingly...well worked.

The Joker gasped, and fell back as he doubled over and clutched his stomach. I quickly got up and sprinted around the Joker and out of the cell. Before I slammed the door, I turned around. "That's why you fucking psycho." I told him in a hard voice and shoved the cell door closed. My chest was heaving as I couldn't seem to get enough air into my lungs. My eyes were blurred with tears which I refused to allow to escape.

I waved away the guards concern for me, promising them I'd be okay as soon as I was calm. I heard the Joker laughing hysterically as I rushed back to my office, unable to shake the feeling of his fingers trailing up my throat before clenching hard around my neck, cutting off the air. The skin tingled still from the sensation of his shockingly smooth fingers trailing softly over my skin.

I leaned against my office door, but couldn't avoid falling to my knees as I lost the feeling in my legs from lack of oxygen. I kept on gasping in deep breaths, my throat becoming raw and my voice rising into a high pitched, near scream. My hands clutched my head desperately as I tried to get the laughter of the Joker out of my brain. The room was darkening, as my eyesight blurred. I couldn't breathe, I just couldn't breathe.

When I opened my eyes again, it took me several attempts of blinking before I could see clearly. The light in the room was harshly bright, and it made me cower back into the darkness of the bed sheets. Wait, these were my bed sheets. Those were the same walls in my room. How did I get back at my apartment?

I bolted upright, to see a dark figure in the doorway. He had pointed ears and I could only see the skin of the jaw and mouth, everything else was covered in thick, solid and black armour. There was an engraving of a bat on his chest, and it was then I knew how I got back home. "Please...what happened?" I called out just as the Batman was beginning to turn away.

"You passed out," he replied in his lowly, gravelly voice. "Doctor Black and Professor Harrison pulled you out of Arkham and I was...passing by. I saw you; they asked me to take you home. That's how you got here." He turned away then, and started walking out of the doorway.

"Thank you!" I shouted, hoping he would hear me.

"It was a quiet night anyway." He replied, and like magic, Batman was gone.

Everything processed for me then. I had, had a panic attack and had passed out outside my office, leaving me defenceless and an open victim for anyone. And then Batman had brought me back here. How...how did he know where I lived? I shook my head violently, desperate to shake the frightful thoughts from my racing mind.

I fell back down against the soft pillows, but I couldn't sleep. There was no way I'd be sleeping anytime soon after today. However, I wasn't going to allow today's event to push me off track of my career. One bad day, tomorrow will be better. It struck me then that, due to my unconsciousness, I was unable to treat Scarecrow. I had too many unanswered questions for my own sanity about Scarecrow, Batman and the men at Arkham who had supposedly 'helped' me.

Not only was I unable to visit Scarecrow, but I had missed mine and Professor Harrison's dinner date. Some small part of me was disappointed that I had missed it, but-to be completely honest-the majority of myself was relieved that I had missed it. I was put purely on the spot, and the more I had thought about it that day, the less sense it made. I hoped Professor understood and didn't think that I'd stood him up; he did apparently help me outside along with Doctor Black so he must've known that I wasn't going to turn up.

I ended up tossing and turning, throwing the thick duvet off of my body and then pulling it back on with force, getting so frustrated with the inability to sleep that I ended up chucking the pillows across the room only ending up having to creep through the darkness to collect them again. Some part of me wanted to scream in pure frustration and the other part of me wanted to burst into tears.

I was exhausted, mentally and physically, and when the morning sun began to rise, I dragged myself out of bed for a hot shower and several cups of coffee. How I was going to manage throughout the day, I didn't know at all. I knew that I was only to treat Harley Quinn, the Joker and Scarecrow which was a step down from yesterday's patients but they were all super crazy and practically intolerable.

Shaking my head and slapping my cheeks to wake myself up, I stepped out of my clothes; thankfully Batman had left me in my work clothes and I had changed myself into my sleep wear while unable to sleep. The warm water was sheer bliss as it ran down my back, leaving goosebumps all over my body. Hopefully, I could wake myself up enough to for today's patients. Something told me, however, that today was the interesting day I had been craving. Whether that was good or bad, I didn't know. It couldn't be good in Arkham.