Strange Love (The Joker and Harley Quinn Fanfiction)

eight

He was dying. Someone who didn't deserve to.

The brunette doctor only stood next to him, not even caring to help. She dropped the gun carelessly before exiting the hall while Jason was starting to struggle with breathing. His vision faltered.

And the last thing he heard was the maniacal laugh of The Joker, the one he was so fucking tired of.

♦ ♢ ♦ 

Harleen stepped into the Asylum, her same nude heels clicking on the floor as usual.

It was officially her third day, but the whole place felt all too familiar to her. And she was about to break the rules already. The doctor found her way to the control room and knocked lightly before entering. The room was quite dark, the light from the screens being the brightest. There were two guards, one asleep, and the other turned to face her.

"May I help you, doc?" He asked, sipping on his coffee.

Harleen sent a warm smile, hoping that she could charm her way to success. She closed the door behind her, studying the screens until she spotted the one that displayed the control room.

"Yeah," She approached the guard and pulled out the USB that she bought the other night. The one that Floyd bought for her.

"I just need the videotapes of my sessions with the Joker. Mind if you could copy them into this?"

"Of course, doc," he took the USB without hesitation, much to her surprise. "This isn't infected, is it?"

"Definitely not."

Harleen waited anxiously, watching his every move and keeping an eye on the screens as well. He was moving exasperatingly slow, taking his time to click and type. She thought about testing the device right then but eventually figured that it wouldn't be the best idea.

After a couple minutes, she resorted to watching the screens. One caught her eye, a smaller chat room with a young doctor and a teen boy. They looked like they were having a normal conversation, the doctor not even taking notes anymore as the boy sat comfortably on a couch. Every now and then, they'd be laughing together. Like a mother and her son.

Harleen imagined the day when she could finally talk to the Joker just like that. Normal, and happy. If he hadn't snapped on her the other day, it would've been almost perfect. But The Joker didn't mix with normal or happy. And the thought of that made her frown, her eyes watering just  bit.

"Here you go, doc," the guard handed her back the USB before she thanked him and left the room. The job was done.

She just needed to test it out.

♦ ♢ ♦ 

She walked into the hall of the Joker's cell.

Chaos filled the room, doctors and guards running around. When Harleen approached a crowd of doctors, she looked into the circle.

Jason lay on the floor, pale and almost lifeless. The doctors struggled to remove the bullet in his rib and patch him up. Harleen covered her mouth in shock to see his blood flooding the ground. She didn't know him well, but it was obvious to her that he was a goo man. What a waste to lose his life.

She approached a nearby officer.

"What happened here?"

"The Joker went crazy, banging his head on the wall and shit," he answered. "Don't worry, it's become a norm here."

"Don't worry?! Shouldn't you be sending him to a padded cell?"

"We did. Try not to underestimate us, doc."

"I'm sorry."

"It's cool. Freakshow talked too much and got the kid mad. Pulled out his gun and threatened to shoot him down."

Harleen's heart stopped for a second. Shoot him?

"But Doctor Miles got a hold on a gun somehow. Shot the kid before he could do anything."

That should be considered as assault, she thought. Whoever the fuck this doctor was, she almost killed Jason. Harleen was sure she'd get her fired, planning to expose her to the Warden. If he'd even care.

"Thank you," she said. The doctor watched as they carried Jason onto a stretcher and pushed him to the emergency room. His blood was still bright on the floor.

Trying her best to keep herself from hurling, Harleen walked towards the scene of the incident. The glass walls were stained with his blood, hand prints smudged everywhere. She absentmindedly pulled up her hand to match with one of the prints, picturing him behind the glass instead. Her heart sank to see the cracks on the glass and the tiles, knowing that he'd hurt himself.

The Joker was a madman. He had no conscience, no weakness, no fear. He was a coldblooded murderer. A criminal.

Then why do you see him differently?

Harleen swore she was going insane. She knew she had gotten herself into big trouble. The moment she first stepped into Arkham Asylum, she knew that deranged things were bound to happen.

But to feel this. This. It was just wrong. She was no longer feeling like herself. Something about her changed. Harleen Quinzel couldn't think straight. She couldn't.

Not around him.