I Can't Help You Fix Yourself

I juggled the pizza in one of my hands, the keys in the other as I unlocked my car door. Jordan looked over at me and frowned. "You're gonna get killed," he muttered, taking the pizza.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, backing out. "I'm not concerned about it, Jordan."

His icy eyes glared into the side of my face. I loved driving; I could easily avoid all conflicts by avoiding the person's eyes. "Why do you care so much?" Jordan tried again after a few minutes of silence.

"He wasn’t always a monster."

"You're not gonna change the fact that he was one."

"No, but," I stopped talking and concentrated on not hitting the red pickup in front of me. The slums of Gotham City swirled by, mobsters making drug deals out in the streets. Since Batman was gone, it had gotten worse, despite the capture of the main criminal.

"But what, Harper?"

"I think he knew me before I… you know." I hated saying it, so I always assumed they knew what I meant. I was still in the phase that if I didn't talk about losing my memory, it would come back. I had been thinking constantly about the possibility of him knowing who I was, and the more I thought the less I doubted it.

"What?" He spun his head my direction so fast I expected him to get whiplash. "That is absurd!"

"He grew up in my town; he looks around my age…"

"No, he looks like a murderous psychopath hungry for your blood. I don't think that it's a good idea for you to talk with him… alone, and unarmed."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Unarmed, or with someone else, if he wanted to kill me he wouldn't have waited till now."

"You are impossible."

I sighed. "Jordan, I know that you and Matthew have been talking. I understand that you are both concerned, but I'd rather you talk to me about it. We don't know anything about him, and, in order to prevent more people like him from being formed, we have to find out what went wrong."

"I'll tell you want went wrong," Jordan murmured as we pulled into the parking lot, "Daddy wasn't friendly enough and Mommy was too friendly."

I looked at him sharply.

"It was just a suggestion."

"Yeah, well… go away."

He followed me anyways, walking down the hallway to our normal meeting spot. I ignored him and walked into the room, seeing a non-straightjacket clad Joker. Instead, he wore a handcuff attached to his left wrist, and the other to the table.

I grabbed the pizza from Jordan and shooed him out silently. He stared at me, his blue eyes bearing into mine.

"Am I sensing some sexual frustration?" the Joker asked.

I clenched my jaw and turned. "Why would you think that?" I avoided his eyes and looked at the wall above his green hair.

"You're not denying it."

I gave Jordan one last glare, and snatched the pizza from him. I sat down in the chair across from the Joker and opened the box of pizza. Jordan threw the paper plates on the table, and I saw the Joker smile at him. It was one of those, I'm going to make you jealous smiles, like the little kid in first grade gives you when he stole the last crayon box.

When the door shut, the Joker asked, "Why are you sexually frustrated?"

"I'm not sexually frustrated," I said, going to the small fridge and grabbing two Pepsis.

"When was the last time you got laid?"

"Let's talk about you," I said, throwing him the Pepsi.

"I got laid by some random stripper before I got caught," he volunteered, smirking.

I breathed out and raised my eyebrows. "This girl, did you like her?"

He made a 'pssht' noise. "I liked her enough to sleep with her."

"Well, let's talk about something other than your sex life."

"How about yours?" he asked, smirking. He had grabbed a pizza and was eating some of it.

"It's fine, thank you. Name?" I took out the pad of paper and almost slashed the blank next to it.

"I'm Jack."

I looked up at him, not able to hide my surprise. "Jack what?"

"You know, Harper. Don't pretend that you don't."

"I can't remember anything before the time I was nineteen, okay?"

"Why?"

I bit my lip and grabbed a piece of pizza. "The doctors think that my hippocampus was damaged from being beaten."

"Your hippo what?"

"It's the part of the brain that holds and receives memories. But, the part of it that receives memories was undamaged, allowing me to relearn things, like my schooling."

"So… some douche tried to kill you?" he asked, looking up.

"Basically."

He sighed. "That sucks. I'd love to tell you more, but I don't want to."

"So, you're saying I know you?" I asked, dropping my voice. I didn't want the people listening to hear too much.

"Maybe."

I sighed and glared at him. "So, how have you been since we last talked?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Good, very good. I'm starting to like my surroundings more… but I don't feel like they will allow me to be more productive," he said, looking at me.

"Where could you be more productive?" I asked, averting my gaze to the door. I knew that Jordan was watching, and would come in soon to protest whatever Jack was about to say.

"Somewhere out of this hospital."

I glanced back at him. "I don't think I can do that."

"Please?" he said, taking another bite. "I'll answer any question you ask."

"I'll talk to my boss about it, but I can't promise anything."

"I can help you remember."

"Remember what?" I asked, glaring at him. I began thinking I shouldn't have told him about my… issue.

"Remember me."

I looked at him and studied his brown eyes. "I'll talk to my boss, and then tell you tomorrow," I muttered, standing up. He smiled, really, and waved goodbye as I walked out the door.