Ha Ha Harlequin

Blending into the crowds in the streets of Gotham was an easy thing to do. You just needed to act like you knew exactly where you were going, not look anyone in the eye, and just be as rude as physically possible.

The light changed from a red hand, to a green picture of two people walking. The crowd gathered at the corner all crossed the street, flowing out like a river that was being held up by a dam. Harleen’s Blackberry vibrated in her purse, and she hastily pulled it out, while still managing not to run into everybody. She was a woman, and women were good at multitasking.

She pressed a few buttons on the phone and returned it back to its original place, mumbling something about ‘Damn student loans…” Suddenly, something caught her eye. Well, more like someone. Everybody was too busy rushing off to the places that they needed to go to notice a single man standing on the corner of the street. It looked like he was waiting for something. A bus perhaps, but that corner was not a bus stop. Harleen dodged a few people, but still continued to stare at the man. It wasn’t what he was doing that was bothering her; in fact, it was the make-up he had on his face. No, not eyeliner and mascara, but…clown make-up. He had painted his entire face white, and filled in around his eyes with black. Across his mouth was a large, red painted smile, stretching farther than a normal smile would. It was like a cross between a clown and a…skull. The sight intrigued Harleen, but she wasn’t dumb enough to approach him. Perhaps he was a street performer. Or some new breed of mime. But he was dressed in normal clothes…

That was when he turned his head slightly and caught her eye, causing Harleen to fall back onto someone in surprise.

“Hey, watch where you’re goin’, lady!” Some man yelled at her.

She muttered an apology to him inattentively, returning her gaze to the man on the corner. He was still there, and she noticed he was holding something white in his left hand, and a bag was hanging around his shoulder. His eyes were still on hers. A van pulled up to him unexpectedly, and just before he hopped in, he winked at her, a playful wink. The van sped away, passing her, but the windows were blacked out.

Harleen shrugged the whole situation off, deciding that the scenario was unimportant, even though not knowing was going to bother her. The phrase, ‘ignorance is bliss’ flashed through her mind as she returned to the flowing river of people. She must have looked like a complete idiot to the people around her, simply standing there and staring at a man with clown make-up.

It wasn’t until a few months later that she discovered that the man was in fact the Joker.

“Dr. Quinzel?”

Harleen was brought back to reality. She looked up into Schiff’s nervous gaze. Shaking her head, as if trying to rid herself of her thoughts, she returned to professionalism.

“Ah, yes, Thomas?” She cleared her throat and held her pencil poised over her paper as if she were about to take notes.

But today she was too unfocused. Clowns had filled her dreams that night, resulting in a restless night of sleep, if any. The day that she had seen the Joker, before he had become the infamous Clown Prince of Crime, had been a reoccurring nightmare all night.

“You seem dis…distracted today…doctor…” he mumbled, eyes staring at her from beneath his tousled black hair. He was sitting in the chair across from her, once more, with his shoulders hunched over, looking slightly uncomfortable.

Showing concerns for me, albeit mild.

She jotted the note down absentmindedly.

“Did you dream at all, Thomas?” It wasn’t a question out of pure curiosity. It was more of a way to get him to start rambling so that she wouldn’t have to pay attention.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, she felt ashamed of herself, and decided to listen intently. Perhaps offer a few interpretations here and there.

“I did…dream…” he began, eyes fixated on a spot on the table.

“Go on,” Harleen told him gently, urging him with her eyes to continue. He glanced nervously at her for a brief second before continuing.

“It was about Batman…”

Eager to share his dream. A dream about Batman. Find cause of dream.

“Do you often have dreams about Batman?” she asked curtly. She wasn’t herself a big fan of the Batman.

“It wasn’t really…a…a…dream.” He whimpered to himself slightly, ignoring the tone in her voice, somewhat reverting back to his previous behavior. “But a memory. When Batman saved me from…Harvey Dent.”

Memory, with Batman and Ha

She stopped what she was writing. Batman saved him from Harvey Dent? She mentally cursed to herself. He was mistaking a dream for a memory, and also coming up with more conspiracy theories against his life.

The scratching out of the uncompleted sentenced caught Schiff’s attention, causing him to become unnerved once more.

“How did Batman save you exactly, Thomas?” she asked, not wanting him to pull back into his shell by telling him he was wrong.

“Mr. Dent took the ambulance I was in…after I was shot…” He looked nervous as he explained this to her, but she could tell he was digging deep into himself.

It’s like he’s revealing a secret to me, a secret about himself. Applying the day he was sent to Arkham to his dream.

“You mean, at the ceremony for Commissioner Loeb?” Harleen asked, trying to picture it in her head. Schiff nodded and then continued, sounding bolder.

“He wanted information on the…the…the Joker.” He had difficulty getting the name out, which was understandable. “He pointed a gun at my head. Threaten to shoot me if I didn’t tell…but then he flipped a coin.”

Harleen was writing down little points to the story. It was very bizarre. It had to be a dream. But what bothered Harleen the most was how vivid his descriptions were, and the fact that he remembered so much.

“Heads I lived, tails…” his voice drifted off, but Harleen got the point. “I told him I didn’t know…know anything about him…and he didn’t believe me…I would have died if…if Batman hadn’t…stopped him.”

“And then what?”

“Mr. Dent took me back…after my leg was taken care of, I came here…”

He looked up at her expectantly. She only returned the gaze.

The story startled Harleen. Not because of its contents, but because of how plausible it was. When Schiff was caught, the stolen uniform he was wearing bore a nametag that read, ‘Rachel Dawes,’ the DA’s former girlfriend, God rest both of their souls. In a fit of anger, he drove off with the ambulance Schiff was in, and threatened him to get information. If this was true, than Mr. Dent, Gotham’s White Knight, had a dark side.

“Thank you for sharing that with me Thomas.” She pushed her glasses further up her face and pulled a blond lock behind her ear, finishing up her notes.

Her words most not have been convincing enough, for his next statement was, “You don’t…ba-believe me.” He looked utterly crestfallen, baggy eyes staring at the ground, shoulders slumped, and a pained expression on his face.

“Is that why you never mentioned this before?” Her question surprised him. “You were afraid no one would believe you?”

His head nodded slowly up and down, eyes wide with shock.

“I understand. Mr. Dent was a very important figure in Gotham, and for someone to tell such a story, whether it be the truth or not, would be widely ridiculed by anyone who heard it. It was probably a wise decision to keep it to yourself.” She glanced at her watch briefly to check the time. “Our session is done for today. I will be sure to see you next Tuesday.”

She gathered up her possessions and pounded on the old door, signaling for Frank to let her out.

“Is it…is it true?” Schiff asked suddenly, stopping Harleen from leaving.

“Is what true?” she asked just as Frank unbolted the door, even though she already had an idea as to what the question was going to be.

“That the…the…he’s here?” His answer came out in a low whisper, as if it were forbidden for him to say his name. But Harleen knew exactly who he was talking about. It appeared as if he was waiting the entire session to ask this question.

“Yes,” she answered candidly, not wanting to lie. Lying, especially since she was aware that he already knew about the Joker’s arrival, would only be a step back in their progress. “But don’t worry, Thomas, he will be as far away from you as possible. It would be unfeasible for him to harm you. Not if I have anything to do with it.”

Figuring that was the end of that conversation, she turned to leave through the door being impatiently held open by Frank. But she was wrong.

“But I want to see him.” His statement was said in a tone so strong, that it did not sound like Schiff at all. It caught her off guard. She honestly became worried.

“He said things to me, things that made sense,” Schiff continued, hands and mouth twitching, eyes wild. “It was the only thing to ever make sense to me. I need to see him. I need to see him.”

“Aw shit. I know that look. Ms. Quinzel, get out now,” Frank said, beginning to pull out a nightstick. Harleen was appalled.

“Frank, put that away now!”

Just as she got the very last word out, Schiff leaped across the table and made his way to the door, scrambling towards her like a wild dog. Frank shoved Harleen out of the way, causing her to slam painfully into the hard wall. Crying out in pain, she fell to the floor and held her hurt shoulder, watching as Frank effortlessly grabbed Schiff by the collar and pushed him into the wall, directly next to where Harleen sat and watched angrily. Frank pulled out a syringe to sedate him when she called out.

“Wait!” she grunted, standing up and facing Schiff’s struggling form.

“I need to sedate-”

“I know, just give me a second to try and get through to him.” Frank obliged, but still did not let go of the frenzied madman. She looked at him in the eyes, and saw that he did not see her.

“Thomas. Thomas, listen to me. Listen to me!” His struggling slowed, but only slightly. He was listening to her. “The Joker was the one who put you here. It was because of him that you were shot in the leg, and almost killed by Dent.”

Frank gave her a funny look, and Harleen returned it with one that said, “I’ll explain later.”

“If he hadn’t of found you, you would be living at home right now,” she explained to him in a firm tone. Schiff was calming down. He was now looking at her directly in the eye. “You would be happy and not residing in this hell hole, resorting to doctors and medications. He ruined your life. His logic is wrong. Everything he said to you was wrong. Remember our sessions; remember all the things that I have said to you. The Joker doesn’t care for you. He used you, and then let you get captured. I care for you Thomas. You are smart, and capable of existing on your own without any other forces. Don’t let him control you.”

“But…I, I, I….I need him…” He wasn’t fighting hard enough.

“No you don’t need him. You need yourself, your own mind.”

“I do…I don’t…I don’t need him…” He repeated the words to himself, over and over again, and eventually, he stopped moving. He closed his eyes and tears began pouring out. Franks grip went limp, and Schiff’s body lowered itself to the floor. His sobs echoed throughout the mostly empty room. Harleen and Frank just stared at him, Harleen with a look of pity and Frank with a look of pure shock.

“How…how did you do that?” Frank asked quietly, not taking his eyes off the sobbing man.

“Simple,” she answered just as softly. “All his life he was being controlled by people. His parents, his family, his teachers, and the Joker. I appealed to his inner desire to be free of all his constraints. It was a long shot, but it seemed to have worked.”

“Holy shit…” he muttered, scratching his head in confusion. “You’re one hell of a doctor, Ms. Quinzel.”

Her lips pulled up into a small smirk, but she said nothing. Instead, she fell down onto her knees and grabbed his hand. He tried to yank away, like a fish on a hook, but Harleen held his hand firmly. Schiff looked at her through puffy red eyes, and Harley gave him a genuine smile.

Normally, when one was given a smile, they were supposed to return it with one of their own. Apparently, Schiff didn’t know that. Instead, he pulled Harleen into him and wrapped his arm around her neck before she could respond appropriately. Instinctively, she put her hands around his arm and tried to pull with all her might, panic evident. For such a small man, his grip was tight and no matter how hard she tried, she could not pry him off.

Frank pulled out a tranquilizer gun and pointed it at Schiff’s face. “Let her go Schiff!”

Spots started to form around her eyes as she sat helplessly, gasping for air.

Schiff was making that horrible, whimpering laugh he did whenever he got a little too excited. Becoming desperate, she brought her arms up and hit began pounding him in the face, but he didn’t even flinch.

“Just...shoot…him,” Harleen managed to cry out to Frank, voice distorted due to Schiff crushing force on her esophagus.

She heard the sweet relief of a dart being shot out of the gun, and Schiff’s arm go limp. But unfortunately, it was a tad too late. Slowly, she felt herself drift into unconsciousness. The only thought in her mind was, ‘Well there goes all that progress…’