In The Cell

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"So, Mister...?" I stared at the wall behind the psychiatrist as I ran my tongue over my metal teeth, my arms in a straight jacket and my legs handcuffed to the chair I sat on. "Mister Noyb." My answer confused Dr. Dean and rolled my eyes at her quetion: "Excuse me?"

I leaned in with a heavy sigh and still avoided any eye contact, she wasn't worth being looked at for so much stupidity. "Noyb. None-Of-Your-Business." Not a snowflake's chance in Lucifer's toilet for her to get a conversation with me. Or make me open up.

"Alright. Let...Let's just--" She started but I cut her off by turning towards the big window through which Dr. Arkham - guided by three policemen - looked at me in concern. "Get me out, I don't want this crap anymore!" My voice echoed through the room and made my new psychiatrist wince.

Jeremiah seemed to sigh and gestured the guards to bring me back to my cell. Two of them unlocked the door and entered, both had one hand on their stun guns, just in case I'd cause any trouble - finally, Dr. Arkham learned from the past.

"I'm not in the mood for games, calm down." I growled, my eyes staring down at the floor and mood getting worse with every damn step, I didn't look at anybody nor did I pay attention to something Jeremiah said to me. Why should I?

Yawning and bored, I waited for the policemen to take off my straight jacket before the door of my dark cell was closed and I was left alone in silence. All the other rogues were out and Arkham Asylum, like Blackgate, was almost empty - except for a view people nobody knew in another part of the asylum. Personally, I preferred solitary confinement anyway.

'Finally, some time to think.' I thought to myself and sat down on my bed. This was the first time in months I could relax with nobody to distract me. Life outside of Arkham became...weird. So view crimes have been committed by Scarecrow, Bane and the others, it was boring. But the main reason why I chose to let Batman catch me after I tried to blow up a train for fun was because I needed to get away from the places that made it impossible for me to sort out my emotions.

"You used ta look betta, ya know that?"

I growled and looked over to a chair in my cell where a blond woman sat, a clipboard in her right hand and a pen in her left. "What do you want, Harley?" A sigh made its way out of my mouth and I leaned back against the wall behind me.

"How would I know?" She asked and shrug her shoulders. "You are imagin' me sittin' in this extremely uncomfortable chair." Her eyes had that mocking twinkle I didn't like and I rolled my eyes. "And you are the psychiatrist, do your job and try to analyze my mind. Not that you ever succeeded." I smiled and crossed my arms behind my head.

After she cleared her throat, Harley started playing with her pen. "Well, after what happened I'd say ya look for a way ta deal with our breakup by tryin' ta get as much distance between us as possible. Not ta mention that...what should I call it? Growing problem? But why didn't ya go ta Blackgate?"

I rolled my eyes in annoyance and yawned to relax myself a bit. "Because it's too close to my second hideout, I don't want to be at places where we both have been." Now I turned my head aside and kind of wanted her to just fade into nothing.

Harley giggled and bit her lip in amusement. "So ya thought Arkham Asylum - where we first met, had our first session and," her eyes moved over to me and she had that sassy smile all over her face again. "other first things - would be a better choice than, let's say, Metropolis?"

"The idea sounded better before you got your mitts on it." Why did she always have to be right? Not even as a freaking image of my tired mind. "Harley, one, Mistah J, zero." She smiled and drew something on her clipboard with a grin. "I know you had a reason for what ya said ta me." Harley didn't look up as she kept drawing and I growled. "Why don't ya just go over ta me an' explain everything?"

I narrowed my eyes and let out a snort. "What?! Are you out of your mind?" I asked and made Harley look up at me over her glasses. "Asks the guy the mental image of his ex-girlfriend in a solitary confinement cell in an asylum." Her eyes moved back down to the clipboard and I sighed. "You're crazy."

Again, Harley stared at me with a smile. "Well, and who's fault is that?" I was done with this conversation. Not because I thought she was right or I felt bad. But because Harley was annoying - as usual.

"Can't you just fade into air?" I asked as I laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "I mean, you're talking so much crap, it's unreal. That's even worse than what you said when we broke up the other day." Though I had that rule about not to remember things that happened, the conversation popped up in my head again. 'Okay, nothing tops that.'

"I'm not da real Harley, I'm just an image o' yer mind." She gave me a smile and and leaned back in her chair. "So everything I say is basically stuff you already know." I scoffed and turned my head over to the wall on my right side. "Yer mind is subconsciously tryin' ta tell ya somethin'. Ignoring that ain't healthy." Harley paused for a moment while I violently tried to fall asleep. "Then again, many things ya do ain't healthy."

I slowly opened my eyes and stared at the wall with an empty look. Maybe it was because I was tired, maybe because my nerves were too short and I wanted this to be over so badly - but I actually started to get serious for a moment. "I didn't lie to you because it was fun."

"Lie about what?" Harley asked confused but I didn't buy it. "You're made of my mind. You know exactly what I mean." I covered my eyes with my arm and tried to think of something funny to lighten my own mood a bit - yet I couldn't laugh.

"True." Harley finished writing things down on the clipboard and sounded more focused now. "Now say it." I opened my eyes and pressed my jaws together. "Say what? That the reason why I wanted us to separate was because I care about you?" My eyes stared right at her face as I sat up. "That I actually like you and realized how awful this relationship is for you?"

Harley smiled one more time and shook her head. "We both know half o' what ya just said was a lie." She played with her glasses as she took them off. "An' I highly doubt ya can tell which part was ta truth."

Rolling my eyes, I grinned at her statement and shook my head at her next sentence. "But when ya figure it out, why don't ya explain it ta me? Da real me. Would make it easier ta love ya." Harley said and I glared at her. "You don't love me, you're just obsessed. Know the difference."

"You can't tell if you're tellin' da truth but tryna tell me about emotions?" She leaned forward a bit and looked at me with a serious face. "Ya can't even tell love from hate."

"What can I say?" I smiled and laid back down as Harley faded until she was gone and I was alone in the cell again. "I just have a thing for jokes."

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