Only Lovers Left: A DC Comics Tale

My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark

Now
Jason lay on a bed, in an abandoned Tunnel Of Love ride. Hearts were etched onto the sides of the walls. One of them was broken, and that was Harley's. She stood in the corner of the room looking at Jason.
"Harley? We need to go and end Batman, now! There is no time for rest," shouted Jason with angst in his voice.
"He can wait," replied Harley, kissing Jason. He rose out of the bed slowly, moving towards Harley. He put his arm around her, still with mouths in contact. But out of the corner of Jason Todd's eye, he saw something. A pasty clown, standing there. Green echoed through his hair. He stood leaning against a wall, in his lavish purple suit. The Joker stared in awe, at the romantics, with a gun behind him.
"Mistah J? What t'cha doin'?" asked Harley, shaking.
"Don't you mean, 'what am I doing with Jason?'. I trusted you, Harley, and now, here's the punchline!" said the Joker, shooting Harley in the shoulder.
"No!" yelled Jason.
Harley's eyes closed, as she thought of the Joker...

Four Years Ago
Harleen had worked at Arkham Asylum for about a year. The Joker was in and out of the building every 10 seconds. But finally, she got the chance to do a therapy session.
"When I was a child, my father used to have these huge trousers, so I thought I try them on. When I did he walked in the room and they fell down!" exclaimed the maniac, talking about his childhood.
Harleen laughed her lungs up. She could sense a strange attraction to the clown.
"Well, it was funny until my father hit me around the head with a bottle," followed the Joker, continuing his tragic childhood.
Harleen felt so sympathetic. So sympathetic, that she didn't even take notes. Instead she drew pictures of him in her notepad. Quite an artist, was Harleen Quinzel.
She knew the art of drawing. But the Joker knew the art of manipulation. He left a note, to meet him at ACE Chemicals. No reason was explained in the letter. At least no reason yet.
She drove in her small car, to the massive factory on the other side of the city.
She walked into the main gates. The guards lay sprawled on the ground, bodies decorated with a smile.
The Joker sat on an elevated platform, above a vat of chemicals. Harleen climbed up the stairs to get up there. It was high up. She felt like it was a setup, but her heart felt otherwise.
As she ascended up the final step, the Joker got up out of his seat, and kissed Harleen. This kiss was followed by a push.
A push from the Joker. She fell. Off the platform. Down. Down. Down the rabbit hole, into the chemicals. She screamed, as the liquid consumed her, raising a hand, as if someone would help her out of there. The chemicals bleached her skin, into the purest shade.
Out of nowhere, the liquid was pumped out, and left at the bottom was a woman, curled up in a ball. She crawled out of this position, slowly graduating to stand on her feet.
She laughed, maniacally, as she finally got the joke.
Harley Quinn was born.