Author's Note: I'm sorry this is such a short chapter! I just don't like writing chapters with large time skips in them, and I didn't see a way I could make this chapter and the next into one, without including one. Things are going to start moving quite a bit quicker from the next chapter onwards (and there will be a LOT of Joker to make up for this) so please excuse the pace if it bothers you. Reviews are so welcomed, good or bad, every review motivates me to write even quicker.
Chapter Nine.
Harleen had started the next day with her usual routine, she had only taken half the prescribed amount of painkillers and had finished up the paperwork she had been meaning to do. The day, however had taken a turn when she received an unexpected visit from Doctor Arkham.
Doctor Arkham looked very grim as he took a seat in front of Harleen. Harleen felt slightly nauseous with anxiety at the sight of him, her mind raced with ideas of why he was visiting her looking so serious. Harleen cleared her throat "Is everything okay, Doctor Arkham?" she finally asked.
Doctor Arkham steepled his fingers under his chin and leaned backwards in his seat "This morning Joker killed another inmate" He said, Harleens stomach dropped "He beat Nealsons head in. The Joker killing is not new or unexpected by any means, but the fact that he killed the man that attacked you, is a very unusual event" He continued.
Harleen felt like she was in shock; Joker had killed Nealson? It couldn't be a coincidence that this happened the day after he found out about the man attacking her. Her mind was racing as she exhaled, trying to find words "Oh God, I didn't get the impression he would act this way yesterday. I… I think it might have been an act of dominance over Nealson? I mean Joker is used to being the most feared man, the man who everyone is always talking about. I would guess that he was unhappy about the ruckus surrounding Nealson".
Harleen knew she wasn't telling the truth, she strongly suspected that The Joker had murdered Nealson because he had attacked her. What Harleen couldn't figure out was why. What was it he had said yesterday? She asked herself; 'Daddy J doesn't like anyone playing with his toys'. Her heart picked up speed at the memory, had Joker been angry about the man attacking her? She hadn't thought he would have cared.
"Hmm, I suppose so. The Joker is an unpredictable man, he prides himself on it. He very well could have killed Nealson just to see the mess that would follow" Doctor Arkham said. "He's in solitary confinement now, so your sessions with him will be suspended for a week" He added as he stood to leave, signalling the end of the conversation. He said a quick goodbye and exited Harleens office.
Harleens immediate reaction was disappointment, which surprised her, because she didn't feel disappointed that Joker had murdered Nealson (She didn't feel badly about his death in general, she admitted to herself), she felt disappointed about her sessions with Joker being put off for a week.
Harleen was ashamed of her disappointment, Joker had murdered a man, of course he was in solitary confinement she reasoned with herself. Although he had killed the man who had attacked her, it was… protective (possessive!, insane! another part of her corrected harshly). Harleen felt anxious, confused, disappointed, and a whole host of other emotions she couldn't name.
It crossed Harleens mind to go down to solitary confinement and ask Joker why he had done it (and to check that he was okay came a whisper in her mind), but she knew the security was too tight for her to get there unnoticed, and her visiting him now would raise more than a few eyebrows. Harleen dropped her head into her hands and pressed her eyes closed so tightly she could see stars.
Harleen tried to collect herself as she looked through her small appointment book. She changed the Jokers appointments to the same day he got out of solitary confinement, before checking what she had scheduled for the day, as all her plans for the day had seeped from her mind.
She only had a session with Crane today, just a simple session to discuss how he felt his therapy had been progressing. Harleen had an hour before her appointment, and she decided that after her appointment she would head home early. Her bruises ached, her painkillers were wearing off, and her head was spinning. If there was ever a day to leave early and have a glass of wine in bed, this was it.
Harleen made her way to the staff break room to get a much needed cup of coffee. Harleen was so caught up in her thoughts, that it wasn't until she was halfway through adding a caramel shot to her cup of terrible coffee when she noticed the whispers.
A small group of people were sat around a peeling table in the back of the staff room, sending Harleen sideways glances and murmuring to each other. The group abruptly looked away when they noticed Harleens eyes on them. Harleen set herself on the further side of the room to sip at her coffee.
Just as she was considering what she would say to The Joker in their next session, how she would ask Joker about why he had killed Nealson, when a part of her, a confused, flustered part, felt flattered that Joker had killed a man for hitting her. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden scraping sound of the chair across from her being pulled out and the presence of Max.
Harleen looked up in surprise at the appearance of her fellow doctor, just as he spoke "Hi Harleen, I heard about Nealson, I hope you're okay. It seems to have been a crazy week for you". Harleen sighed "Hi Max, I'm fine" Harleen said shortly, she didn't want to discuss Joker with anyone at the moment, her thoughts were too haphazard for that.
"Oh, that's good. Well I just thought I'd check before my meeting, we've all heard how the Joker can be" Max persisted. Harleen couldn't hold back another small sigh "Well I can't discuss my patients, you know that. Actually I have some paperwork I need to finish, so I was just on my way out. Goodbye Max" Harleen said, picking up her coffee and standing. Something in Max's eyes unsettled her as he smiled cheerily and said goodbye. Harleen shook her head, she had bigger concerns than a nosey doctor.
Harleen spent the rest of her free time sitting at her desk, massaging a painful headache away from her temples and finishing her coffee in peace. She was grateful when the time came for Cranes therapy, it occurred to her as strange that she looked forward more to seeing her patients, than she did her colleagues.
Harleen smoothed back her hair and adjusted her clothing as she greeted Crane and pulled her notes out, after a brief and thoroughly unhelpful conversation with Crane on his thoughts about receiving therapy Harleen got to the last question she needed to ask "The only other thing we really need to discuss today is how you think therapy is going over all, Doctor Crane" Harleen said, glancing at his impassive face.
"Therapy sessions are hardly of any use when held with another doctor" Crane dismissed. "Though I am unopposed to the halfway interesting conversation every so often" He added. "Now tell me, Doctor Quinzel, do your patients scare you?" He asked.
Harleen considered his abrupt question for a moment "No, I'm not afraid of my patients" She said finally, as she finished writing the notes on their session so far.
Crane hummed slightly "Curious indeed. Even though your patients have killed?" He asked. Harleen could tell from his tone that he knew what had happened with Joker and Nealson. She sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day as she gathered her notes. "I'm not afraid of my patients" She repeated "I haven't been given a reason to be so far" She concluded, locking eyes with Crane who studied her with the scientific curiosity she had come to connect with his expression when he spoke of his own experiments on fear. A quick goodbye and Harleen was headed for her car.
Usually Harleen would have written her notes up before leaving for the day, but all she wanted currently was to get home to have a glass of wine in bed and puzzle over the day's events. With music playing quietly on the radio, Harleen stopped to buy a bottle of cheap wine, and for reasons she couldn't seem to figure out; she found herself placing a pack of grape soda cans away in her fridge.