In Another Life VII

Chapter 6

She woke up in her room, her vision still swimming, although the pain had dulled. She looked down to see that her arm was bandaged and in a sling, and then she heard someone by her bed breathing a sigh of relief.

"You're awake," said Henderson, the worry in his eyes evident. "Thank God!"

She slowly sat up, wincing. "What happened?"

"You were wounded...not too badly," he reassured her. "It's a fairly deep cut but...it's not infected or anything. There'll probably be a scar though, and you won't be able to use that arm for a couple weeks."

"The Joker...came back to get me," she murmured, remembering.

"Yeah," agreed Henderson, nodding.

She looked at him. "Why?" she asked.

"You'll probably have to ask him," replied Henderson. "I don't know."

"Are you ok?" she asked, remembering that he had almost been forced to kill a fellow police officer. "After...that thing with Callaghan?"

He bit his lip. "Yeah," he said. "I'm fine. Only...I dunno," he muttered, looking down at his hands. "I knew I'd have to do bad stuff being in the Joker's gang, committing crimes and stuff, but...having to kill a guy...like that...point blank...I don't think I could have done it, Harley. Especially not a guy I know, a guy I've worked with..."

"You have to gain his trust, Ernie," murmured Harley. "Or you're not gonna last. And the only way to do that is to be as bad as the rest of them."

"Yeah, I know," he agreed. "I just wish I was better at it, Harley. Like you, jumping in front of him and getting hurt yourself, all to make it look like you were loyal...I mean, you're a better undercover cop than me," he said, smiling at her. "The lengths you go to for the mission...well, I admire you more than I ever did before."

"Yeah," agreed Harley. "For the...mission."

She hadn't thought about the mission when she had jumped in front of him, though. She hadn't thought about anything. It had just been instinctive. Maybe she was just a better undercover agent than she thought, she reasoned, so much so that her instincts were trained to make her seem loyal.

There was a knock on her door, and Henderson went to answer it. "Patient up yet?" asked a familiar voice.

"Yes, sir," said Henderson, holding open the door for the Joker, who beamed at Harley.

"Yeah, she don't look much worse for wear!" he chuckled. "How ya feeling, kiddo?"

"Fine," said Harley. "The arm stings a little, but...apparently it was a deep cut."

"Yeah, those toys of Batsy's are really sharp," said Joker, nodding. "Surprised he hasn't accidentally killed more people with 'em, to be honest."

He turned to Henderson. "Why don't you get Harley some soup so she can get her strength back?"

"Yes, sir," repeated Henderson, glancing at Harley and then leaving them alone.

"I thought I was expendable," murmured Harley, adjusting her arm. "Why did you come back for me?"

He shrugged. "You took a Batarang for me. One good turn deserves another. And anyway, it's not like you were heavy to carry!" he chuckled. "If you were Rocco, I'd have just left you, or I'd never have got away! Besides, you hadn't had any fun yet, so I didn't feel like I'd fulfilled my part of the bargain. You came out on one operation which was busted by the Bat, and got a Batarang in your arm. If I'd left you there, chances are Bats would have taken you to prison and you'd have talked yourself outta the henchgirl gig forever. You'd have gone back to your mundane little shrink life and died slowly of boredom. Couldn't let that happen, toots, not when you joined up for fun and frolics. Gotta see you have some first before the Bat takes you away. I promised you that, at least."

She smiled. "Funny, you don't seem like the kinda guy who's concerned with keeping his promises."

"Why's that?" he asked. "I'm a man of my word, toots. No point in saying something and not following through on it – that's like setting up a joke and not giving the punchline."

"Yeah...speaking of that, sorry I couldn't be the getaway driver," she said, grinning.

He grinned back. "Well, Rocco did an ok job. For a guy, anyway."

She smiled. "Thank you," she said, sincerely. "For...coming back for me."

"Don't mention it, toots," he said, smiling and heading for the door. "Just rest up so you can use your arm again. No point in a one-armed lackey, so if you don't get recover, I'm dumping you, promise or no promise. So get better or else, you got it?"

"Yes, sir," she said, grinning.

He left her and she felt a strange, tingling happiness well up in her stomach, for some reason. Which was a bizarre way to feel, and probably due to some medication she'd been given, she reasoned. She reached under her pillow and pulled out her notebook, trying to write down her observations of the Joker clinically, as her professionalism as a doctor demanded.

Henderson re-entered a few minutes later with a steaming bowl of soup. "Thanks," said Harley, as he helped her sit up.

"What are you writing?" he asked, gesturing to the notebook.

"My personal observations about the Joker," she explained. "I'm treating this whole operation as a psychological experiment, and he's my patient, so I'm writing down my interactions with him. Plus it'll be useful stuff to pass on to Gordon about how he thinks and behaves."

"Have you learned anything new about him that you haven't read already?" asked Henderson.

"Oh yeah," said Harley. "Lots of stuff."

"Like what?" he asked. "To me he seems just the way you and everyone else always described him – random and psychopathic and cruel and heartless. Treating life and death as a joke and a game. What else could you have learned about him?"

She shrugged. "Nothing important," she said, putting the notebook away. "Boy, those painkillers you gave me must be having an effect – I feel a lot better now."

"I didn't give you any painkillers," said Henderson, puzzled. "I just brought you some with the soup," he said, gesturing to a couple pills next to her glass of water.

"Oh," she said. "Well, maybe it's a sign that it's healing already."

That had to be it, she reassured herself. She had resolved to get better, and her body was already complying. The human mind was strong like that. And there was nothing willpower couldn't overcome.