You glared at the door. Of corse this is where they would take you first. You heard Henry snickering behind you. You spun around so you were facing him. "You're a dick." He began laughing. "Oh, the look on your face! It's priceless!"
You narrowed your eyes. "You're lucky that I actually don't want to kill you." He rolled his eyes. "Wow, thanks."
Before you could speak anymore, he knocked on the door. "Come in!" The person on the other side shouted. Henry opened the door and walked you in. The person looked up from their desk and groaned. "Thank you, Mr. Yenner. You may go now." He nodded and walked out.
"Sit," the person ordered. You sat down with a huff. "What's up, Doc?" Your psychiatrist looked at you. "Hello, Y/N. Long time, no see."
Dr. Q was your previous psychiatrist. She was also a major bitch that lives to mentally torture you, but you knew better than to let her get to you. You weren't that stupid.
"Thankfully," You said, smirking. "So, how have things been?" She asked. She wasn't being a complete bitch this time, but you knew that was only because last time you threatened to kill her precious daughter.
Your smile dropped. "How do you think?" You saw her smirk still stayed on her face, even though she was trying to act sympathetic. "Oh, yes. I saw that Jerome was killed by Theo Galavan the night of the gala. I am incredibly sorry for your loss."
You scoffed and looked away, crossing your arms. "Sure ya are. Tell me, doc, was Harley watching the night my J was murdered? Did she hear about the bus that we attacked? Was she scared knowing that we could have easily picked a bus that her friends were on? Or even worse, one that she was on? Was she scared knowing that mommy had talked to the bad guys on t.v. and they might be coming after her? Especially the girl that was so close to her age. The girl that she could have befriended if she didn't know she was a murderer. Or even better, if she didn't become a murderer at all. If she had never meant the boy with the flaming red hair, or never grew up in the circus, or never came to Gotham, she might have been able to live a normal life, just like Harley's."
You watched Miss. Q grow angry, worried, and scared. Her daughter was always a rough subject. "Harleen felt bad for you and Jerome. She felt bad that she's only a couple years younger than you, and got to live such a lucky life. She wanted to be able to help you. When she saw Jerome die, she actually cried. She believed- no- she knew you and Jerome could be helped. She cried because Jerome's chance at redemption was taken from him. She cried because she knew you would only fall down farther into the rabbit hole now that your only anchor was ripped away. When she found out that you were coming back, she begged me to help you, and I going to.
"I don't know why I agreed to this, but you and her both need this, even if you don't know it yet. So, I asked for a little extra help." You turned as you heard the door begin to open. A girl with brown hair and blue eyes walked in. She was wearing a pink skirt and white blouse. She looked at you. You saw that she didn't look scared or nervous. In fact, she looked hopeful.
You and her continued to stare at each other, completely ignoring the doctor. "Y/N," Miss. Q began. "Meet my daughter, Harleen."