Madness (Joker Love Story)

45713

Allison Finch; Gotham's most respected and renowned psychologist. She never thought she'd earn that title especially not when she first joined the team at Arkham asylum. No one took her seriously. Of course, she was only 18. However, by that time she was already regarded as a genius, a child prodigy so to speak. She'd acquired two doctorates a year prior; one in psychology and the other in behavioral analysis. Despite her many accomplishments, she was still treated as an amateur. At least at first.
All this ridicule came before she had her first entirely cured patient; something new to the notorious asylum in Gotham. Everyone wondered how she did it, but no one dared ask. After the day Edward Nigma, formerly "The Riddler", stepped out of those heavily guarded doors a new man, Allison became the most respected doctor in the hospital. No. It wasn't a hospital. Hospitals are meant to house people waiting to be helped. No one was put in this asylum for help. Everyone knew there was no hope for those sent here. It was more of an eternal holding cell.
"She just got lucky". That was the common assumption of most of the staff there when it came to the subject of Mr. Nigma. Nonetheless, Allison was given only the most infamous patients. The Scarecrow, one of her best friends, though she of course could not admit it to anyone else, Bane, the Penguin, and Cat Woman were Allison's regular patients. And now, it would appear, The Joker would be added to the list.
They had captured him yesterday and didn't think twice about assigning him to anyone other than Allison, considering her bright history with her patients. Her nude heels clacked angrily as she walked down the sterile white corridors of Arkham, looking over his files. She rolled her eyes as she caught sight of the ridiculous amount of sweaty security guards standing outside of her conference room.
"I take it he's in there." she said nonchalantly closing the manila folder. She peaked through the glass and was disgusted at what she saw; the Joker looking down, his arms bound tightly around him in the confines of a straight jacket. "Really, guys? I told you before, this isn't how I work. I refuse to fear the people I'm meant to create a bond with." Her voice was lightly coated with frustration. There was an awkward pause before the biggest guard finally spoke up.
"For other patients maybe... But the Joker's unlike anyone you've ever dealt with before. He's dangerous. " He put more emphasis on the word than necessary. Allison raised an eyebrow. "This is Arkham. Everyone's dangerous here. Now unlock him." The guards looked around at each other, none willing to go in there with him unchained.
The still young girl rolled her eyes and took the keys off one of the guards' belt. "You're all so brave." She said, her raspy voice drench in sarcasm as she walked into the bright room that housed insanity. The joker made no movement, even when she closed and locked the door behind her. She set her files on the table and only then noticed the scarred man had raised an eyebrow. She walked casually over to him and knelt down. "A woman." He finally said, looking her up and down.
"It would appear so." She said. "A pretty one too." She made no reaction as she reached for the locked buckles on his back. He turned to her and smiled as though he were pleasantly surprised. "What makes you think I won't kill you?" She slowly shook her head. "You have no reason to."She began to unlatch the buckles "How about that fact that I'm crazy?" He suggested."Who says you're crazy? Insanity is a myth, as is evil. They're terms people use when they've given up trying to understand something." She said gently and assuredly while travelling back to her seat. The joker's smirk grew wider as he struggled to hold back a chuckle.
"So.. I take it patient 45713 won;t work for you." She smiled to herself. "So what would you prefer I call you?" The joker laughed on the brink of hysteria. "A few things come to mind, but they're all profane, doll face." Now his laugh was in full hysteria and Allison even felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips. "Patient 45713 it is then. "She smirked as he finished laughing and stared smugly at her.
She slid the manila file over to him as he shook his arms about, trying to free himself of the slight pain brought on by the tight restrictions of the straight jacket he had previously been wearing. He looked down and raised an eyebrow at the file. "What's this?" "A pony." She responded, sarcasm thick in her voice. He smiled again and his scars stretched across his face. He opened the file and read, shaking his head in disappointment 10 seconds in.
"No no no.. This is all wrong." He said, slamming the file playfully on the table. "They usually are." She scooped the strewn about papers up and dumped them into the empty trash can. He chuckled, looking her up and down again. "You're not like those other docs, are ya?" "What could have possibly given you that impression?" She smiled slightly as she walked over to him, slipping his arms through the jacket as he submit. "What did I do?!" He asked, curious as to why he was suddenly being restrained again. "Nothing. We're done for today."
This only confused him more. "But you didn't write anything down! You didn't learn anything about me! This was a wasted session?!" He shouted as he stared deep into her eyes, brows furrowed together in utter perplexion. "I've learned more than enough for today." She said and began to walk away once he was fully confined. He laughed. "What could you possibly have learned?" She stopped at the door and turned to look at him.
" You worked on your last job alone. I know that because when I touched you, you tensed, proving that you haven't felt the touch of another human being, especially that of a woman's, in quite some time which suggested you've been laying low. You prefer to work alone because you have trust issues; this is demonstrated by your constant questioning of my motives with your file and straight jacket. About your work; you're very proud of what you're doing even though you know it's wrong. This suggests a sociopathology although I can't be sure yet. About the touch of a woman.. I think you were once a very handsome man and considered to be so by everyone you came into contact with. You never understood it though, and with the attainment of the scars, you became even more timid. I know this because when you cant hide your face with makeup you turn your head away from the world just as you were doing when I walked in here. When I looked at you without the fear you were expecting, you shrouded yourself with the notorious false narcissism and confidence to hide your surprise."
He seemed taken aback. "Smart and beautiful." He said slowly and surely, looking down once again.
"We'll talk more about the scars tomorrow. And thank you for the compliments." She added. " Have a good evening, 45713."