I took his file home to my small house that night and stayed up hours reading about him, or trying to read about him. There was no story, no history. Nothing. How the hell was I even going to do this? I sighed before glancing over at the clock, it was 1am. I best get some sleep before my brain unhinges.
The dreams. The terrifying dreams were back again. I must've forgot to take my medication. He was there the Joker. A younger version, where he didn't look as gruesome as he did now but the scars were still there. He held a gun towards my father and disregarded his yells for him, pleading him for mercy. My father looked pitiful yet nothing stopped the joker from pulling the trigger. And there lay in front of me, the five years old me; my father's lifeless, stone cold body. In the other room he had my mother tied up and I could hear her muffle screams for help. I was rooted to the spot. Beyond terrified but the Joker didn't even glance towards me; he just disappeared into the room where my mother was to torture her.
I woke up with sweat clinging to my petite figure and stared at the ceiling; thoughts of my mother who was still alive burned my skull before heading towards the bathroom in need of a shower. Stripping out of my clothes, I notice the small scars that were left upon my stomach, barely noticeable unless directly under light. Shaking away the thoughts and memories, I step into the shower and I am met with the hot water that soothes and calms my body. After using majority of the hot water, I hurry to get dressed for the day. Wearing a long plain black skirt with my white shirt along with my doctors' jacket; for once I make an effort with my appearance, I dry my hair before neatly combing it into the perfect bun and apply minimal makeup. Glancing at the mirror, I take time to acknowledge how decent I look; I could be pretty if I wanted to.
I rushed to the small café that's my favourite place to go and grab my daily dose of caffeine before heading towards Arkham Asylum.
"The usual Harley?" Brad the café owner asks.
"Yes, add some sugar, I have a sweet tooth today" I sigh.
"You're looking good today Doc, I hear there's a new patient, some psycho clown"
"You mean the Joker"
"Yeah, he's a lunatic, Harley I don't know how you can work up in there. It's not safe for a gorgeous gal like you. You know you can always work here. Hey hang on. The Joker. Isn't he the one who... murdered your father?"
I glanced away from brad and grabbed my late, leaving the money on the counter giving him a generous tip. Yes Brad, he's the one who killed my father and is my new patient, I silently said to myself.
The gates of Arkham Asylum loomed ahead and I picked up my pace before I turned back around home. I was regretting the decision already, why did I think I could get inside the jokers brain. I quickly signed myself in and headed towards the room in which I would meet the joker.
I pushed open the door and there he was sat with a wicked smile on his, his arms crossed staring at me with curiosity.
"Good morning doll face" Joker laughed.
"Good Morning, I am your doctor, Doctor Harleen Quinzel" I said not daring to look at him.
"What a pretty name. Do your friends call you Harley?"
YOU ARE READING
His Queen (A Joker/Harley Fanfic)
FanfictionDr Harleen Quinzel AKA Harley Quinn was assigned to be The Jokers Psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum, she believes she's curing the Joker when infact she's falling deeply in love with him. This is the tale of how the Doctor became His queen.
