**COMPLETE** Diamonds and Scars (Harley Quinn & The Joker - Fanfiction)

Arkham Asylum

I'm sitting at a table, talking to one of the most twisted minds in the world. What am I doing with myself? It's probably a dream, I'll wake up soon. The Joker is never who everyone suspects him to be, he always makes a different story for each doctor who talks to him. Am I different? Probably not, but we'll see.

"Hello, my name is Doctor Harleen Quinzel, I am a psychiatrist at Arkham. I'm here to help you" I say, though his pale white face screams at my eyes but I do not show panic, nor fear.

I sit, anxiously waiting the reply from a psychopath.

"Harleen Quinzel? Such a terribly formal name. Tell me, do your friends call you Harley? I think it's much cuter. If you wanted to make it official, why not call yourself Harley Quinn? Now that sounds much more appropriate. But then, that's just me" he says, staring at my face with lust.

Maybe it's a sign of affection, but I can't assume anything yet. I try and stay professional, despite feeling uncomfortable with the situation I find myself in.

"I don't really have any friends...Anyway, why are you here?" I say.

He's flirting with me, is this a strategy to get me on his side? To make me fall for his story? I wonder.

"Why, to tell you my story! It's a wonderful little tale, I'm sure you'll enjoy it. But if you don't then...well don't tell me what you thought of it" The Joker replied to me, gritting his teeth and making his eyes kill me inside.

I need to choose my words carefully.

"I'm ready to listen to you, please, tell me anything" I hope this shows my compassion and understanding, even for the criminally insane. His scarred mouth makes a smile.

"Well, Harley" he winks, as he continues explaining his back-story. "I would like to start out by saying you have an incredibly beautiful voice. I could talk to you all day. But...Oh, yes! My story! Well, you see my parents were murdered in front of me, and I was told by my dad, I should smile more. So I took his word in his dying breath and carved a permanent smile on my face. That way, I can always be happy. And make others happy too" he stopped smiling. "It's not just clown makeup, it's a real scar. Painful, maybe but quite the conversation starter...I'm surprised you haven't brought it up yet actually" he has such a confidence in his words.

It's certain he's sick, twisted too. I only hope he's telling the truth.

"Oh my, I'm sorry you had to go through that" I said, trying to reassure him once again I'm here to help.

"Don't be, I was the one who murdered them!" he laughs, loudly.

For the duration of the laughter I feel my heart skip a beat. He can see my fear, he loves it. He knows what I want to say, but I won't say it.

"Mhm, crazy right? Well maybe everyone's got a little craziness bottled away, it's healthy. You must want to know what it feels to let out the insanity. To give in to the little voice in your head that says 'do it' and once you actually kill someone, you know you're free. Free."

I swallow nervously and although petrified, I find myself drawn to his explanation. True or not, the level of psychological trauma he is showing me is fascinating.

"But why, why did you do it? What lead you to act in such a way?" I asked, but I found myself lost in his presence.

"Why do you do anything, Harley? Revenge? Boredom? No, you do it because you feel like it. And maybe because my parents disapproving of my depression was aggravating to listen to... all the time. I granted their wish though, I now smile and laugh more. Must be a win win! Of course, well...now they're dead. But that's hardly my problem anymore. But tell me about you, Harleen. It's boring to talk about myself in such a positive light all the time."

He gave me chills. Actual chills.

"I want to understand your reasoning, your motive and most importantly, I want to help you." I say, writing several notes on a piece of paper positioned on the table.

Joker is tormenting me silently with his glare. I can't see his eye contact directly. I can feel it.

"You have such a beautiful voice, I could listen to you all day." he said, edging his chair closer to the desk and putting his handcuffed wrists on the table.

"Uh...thanks" I say, accepting the compliment awkwardly.

His green eyes are locked firmly on me.

"Harley, why would you put yourself through a job you don't enjoy? Why don't you let yourself be free? Be happy. I can tell you're bored and it's not because of me, I'm way too fun to be boring!"

He makes a valid point, I really don't like this job. At all. I've always wanted to enjoy the freedom but what is he suggesting? Romance? Escaping? I can't, I won't. He can see I'm in denial.

"I...I can't...I won't"I find myself stuttering, I want to say no but in my brain it screams for me to say yes.

It's agonizing too, his words are like daggers into my heart and each one is splitting my sanity open. I somehow think he's being genuine. I think he's actually telling me the truth.

"Come now, such a beautiful young girl like you should be out there ruling the world,with me. Harley, come with me. I promise you it'll be okay. Nobody has to know. Nobody needs to know"

I cannot fault his affection any longer. Joker puts his handcuffed wrists towards me.

"But of course, I can't do this without you" his words are so sincere it's sickening.

The key to his chains is in my pocket. I have the key to his freedom...and maybe mine as well.

"Okay" I say slowly.

I get the key out of my pocket and unlock his handcuffs. He stands up, moves over to me. Closer. He embraces me softly. I suppose he could've killed me if he wanted too, but he didn't.

"Thank you" he said.

I found my arms slowly admitting affection towards The Joker.

"You may not have many friends, Harley. But you have me now" he kissed me on the cheek.

Did I just give up my sanity? I don't know, it's so crazy my mind can't process what's going on right now. But my eyes meet his and we exchange a discreet kiss on the lips.

Harley? I like that name. I like The Joker.