Author's Note: This chapter got a little lengthy so I split it into two, to make up for it, I'll try post again tonight. I'm a little indecisive about how to have Harleens accent come across, because I don't want to write all in slang, also I'm not even from America so any tips on improving the dialect would be awesome. As always, every one of you who have reviewed, followed, and favourited are amazing, thank you.
Chapter Fourteen.
Harleen did not sleep that night, she sat awake, drinking wine, and building up the courage to look into a small, crumbling cardboard box she usually kept in her wardrobe. Harleen finished her third glass of wine, put the bottle away, and made herself a cup of tea, before she sat cross legged on her bed.
The box was something Harleen had not looked in for years, it contained the few things she had kept from her childhood. Harleen took a deep breath and opened the box. She pulled out the small stack of photos and flipped through them. There were not many photos, and they were not exactly joyous looking images that had been captured.
The first few photos were of Harleen as a baby, her brother was about four in them, and did not look thrilled to have his mother's attention diverted. There were two photos of Harleen in front a small cupcake, her sixth birthday, she realised. Her father had once again been absent, her mother had been steadily sipping on a vodka and tonic through the day; but had attempted to get it together enough to produce a small cupcake for Harleen.
The next few photos were seemingly random snaps of Harleen and Barry through the years, set against the backdrop of various locations around the crumbling house that she had grown up in. Harleen stopped at the very last photo, a rare occasion where her parents had been home at the same time, and had been getting along well enough to stand for a photo with Harleen and Billy.
Her father was a rough looking man, solidly built with sandy blonde hair and grey eyes, set in a face weathered beyond his age. Her mother looked perpetually tired, her once beautiful blonde hair was frazzled and pulled loosely away from her face. Her eyes were similar to Harleens, the same piercing blue. Harleen looked similar to her mother, while Barry was almost a carbon copy of their father., Harleen briefly wondered if he still looked like their father.
Harleen placed the photos face down back into the box, as she sifted through it slightly. There were a few different certificates and ribbons from various awards and accolades Harleen had collected over the years, and a sloppily drawn picture Harleen had drawn when she was about five of what appeared to be herself drawn in a red princess dress, holding hands with what she thought was supposed to be a prince, but may have been a tree.
She sighed, closing the box firmly and placing it on her bedside table, the box was from a childhood she found hard to relate to as her own. She slept uneasily, that night, she felt like something big was coming.
Harleen made her way to work quickly that morning, almost forgetting her glasses in her rush. Harleen made her way quickly through the halls, ignoring the whispers and nods toward her. She needed to organise her appointments for the day, she was going to see all her patients today, starting with Joker.
Harleen rushed through setting up her appointments, she power walked to the therapy room, the thought of Joker having ECT had haunted her dreams last night, she had no idea what would happen when she finally saw him, she didn't know if he would be okay.
Harleen didn't acknowledge the guards around Joker's therapy room other than to tell them to get Joker out of all of his restraints. Harleen played with her fingers impatiently as she waited for the guards to return. After what felt like a lifetime, the guards exited the room and Harleen rushed past them.
Joker sat in his usual chair, his green hair was slightly mussed, an unusual change. His eyes were clear, to Harleens relief as she studied his face intensely, looking for telltale signs of damage. The uncharacteristically serious expression on Jokers face made Harleens heart leap with anxiety.
Harleen moved to kneel in front of his chair, she brushed his hair back into place gently before speaking "I'm so sorry Mister J, I tried to stop her, I really did" She spoke as earnestly as possible "Are you okay?" She questioned, moving to sit in her usual seat.
Joker began to laugh chillingly, he leaned across the table and grasped Harleens throat firmly, he brushed his lips against hers ever so slightly "Mmm Daddy J will deal with that later. You don't want your Mister J stuck in here forever with these people do you?" He breathed.
Harleen shook her head slightly, causing Joker to drop his hand, he twisted his head around slightly as Harleen spoke "Of course not, Mister J" She said.
"There is something you could do for me, doctor" He growled, leaning forward slightly in his seat again.
"Anything. I mean, yeah" She said earnestly, she would do anything to help him, she knew. He would help her be who she truly was meant to be.
Joker stared Harleen in the eyes, his gaze intense "I need a machine gun." He said, never breaking eye contact. Harleen could feel her eyebrows raise slightly at the request, she knew how to get a gun, it wasn't hard to do in a town like Gotham, which was so rampant with crime.
"A machine gun?" She clarified. The Joker flashed his metal teeth at her as he began to laugh slowly in response. Harleen hesitated for just a moment, this was the time where she would truly make her decision a reality.
"I'll get a machine gun for you Mister J, I'll help get you out of here" She vowed, smiling back at him. Jokers laughed increased to a loud, slightly maniacal sound, as he leaned across the table and pulled Harleens mouth against his in a fierce kiss.
"Good girl" He rasped. Harleen brushed her lips against his once more "I need to go Mister J, I have a lot to do before tomorrow" Harleen said, standing from her chair. The Joker just flashed his shark-toothed smile in response.
Harleen threw him one last glance as she walked from the room, ignoring the questioning looks thrown at her by the guards due to the unusually short session. Harleen considered all that she had to do, her plan had been to see Waylon and Crane, but she needed to organise the machine gun for Mister J, along with a plan on getting it to him.
Harleens thoughts drifted back to Waylon and Crane, she shouldn't leave her patients here without her. She knew she would not be returning to work once she freed Joker, she wasn't stupid enough to think that no one would know what she had done, and she could not trust the other doctors with her patients. Maybe she would be able to free them as well, she considered. At the very least it would cause a large enough distraction that Joker would have a much easier time escaping.
With that thought in mind Harleen walked to her office and cancelled her appointments for the day, claiming a family emergency. She walked down to her car and drove home. She knew that in a town like Gotham, there were always ways of getting anything you needed.
Harleen knew of a weapons store that was run by a former acquaintance of her father's who had a reputation of dealing to the shadier side of Gotham. She should be able to get a machine gun from him, for the right price of course. Harleen rummaged through her closet for a duffel bag that normally contained her gymnastics attire.
Harleens heart was pounding, but she felt a sense of thrill and excitement she had not had before. She stopped at an ATM and emptied her accounts, buying this gun, along with all the ammo, would wipe all the savings she had carefully saved over the years. It was worth it, she dismissed.
The weapons supply store was in the same place it had been when she was a child, on the occasions she had refused to be separated from her father so he had been forced to take her around with him, to some less than savoury places.
The windows were heavily barred, and blacked out. The dark paint chipping away from the front of the store. A bell jingled as Harleen opened the heavy door, glancing around the crowded store she made her way to the counter.
As she reached the dusty wooden counter a large man appeared. He was of average height, with a large pot belly, and a shock of grey hair, accompanied by a bushy silver moustache. He raised his eyebrows at the sight of her "Little Harleen Quinzel?" He asked, his voice gruff.
Harleen attempted a smile at the man, Jonesy she recalled having called him when she was a child. "Hi Jonesy, it's been a while" Harleen said. He nodded and leaned against the counter "What can I do for you Harleen?" He asked.
Harleen glanced around slightly before raising the duffle bag and emptying it on the counter so that Jonesy could see all cash she had pulled together. "I need the best machine you have Jonesy, and all the ammo I can get" She said, watching his bushy eyebrows shoot up his forehead.
"Well I don't make money asking questions" He replied eventually, before turning and walking through to the back of the store. He returned a few minutes later, carrying one of the largest guns Harleen had ever seen, it was sleek and beautiful she had to admit however.
Harleen didn't listen as he went on to explain all the aspects of the gun, she wouldn't be the one using it. Glancing to her side as he spoke, a row of cheap batons caught her eye, she picked one up and tested swinging it through the air, it felt more natural to her than she would have imagined.
"I'll take the gun, Jonesy. The baton as well, and as much ammo as I can afford" She said, not thinking too much about what she would be using the baton for; she had vowed to herself that no one would stand her way anymore, she had meant it.
Jonesy didn't speak much as he counted her cash and then began piling ammo on the counter, while he was doing this, Harleen checked the safety on the machine gun and placed it into her duffel bag. She slipped in her baton, and started piling ammo on top.
Harleen left soon after that, she walked slowly, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Harleen made it to her car and carefully place the duffel bag in the back seat. She had turned to make her way to the drivers side of the car, when a store window caught her eye.
She glanced in her wallet quickly, before pulling her credit card from it and walking towards the store. She hesitated momentarily, before entering and greeting the bored looking attendant. Harleen eyed the racks for a moment, before she pulled a deep red button up shirt, along with a well fitting pair of black slacks, a beautiful pair of black dress shoes, and a high quality black suit jacket from their hangers.
She handed them, along with her credit card, over to the attendant. Harleen waited for the man to carefully slip her purchases inside a bag, before she thanked him and walked from the store. She hoped Joker would like the outfit she had picked out for him. She knew he would want to be out of the regulation grey Arkham Asylum sweats as quickly as possible.
Harleen stopped to slip the bag inside her duffel bag, before she drove slowly home. She very carefully brought the bag inside with her, as she walked around her apartment. She thoughtfully selected her outfit for the next day; a deep blue shirt, a pair of tight black pants, and some ankle boots that she could run in if she needed to.
She glanced at the box sitting on her bedside table. The one that contained her only mementos from her childhood. She picked it up and ran her hand along it before placing it carefully in her fire place. She splashed a little lighter fluid on it, and lit a match.
Harleen watched the match burn for a moment, before throwing it down on the box. No going back, she thought confidently, as she watched the box blacken and crumble in the flames.