Transference - (Jonathan Crane, Harley Quinn)

Chapter 1

A/N: Though I'm not new to writing by any means, this is my very first story here on wattpad and I'm a little nervy about posting it. This piece was initially written for a 'Free For All Fic For All' on the askthesquishykins tumblr, but it grew beyond all my wildest expectations for it and turned into a massive multi-chaptered beast before I knew what happened. It seems like as good a story to start with as any! It will also be updated regularly, as it's technically finished, so yay.

Be forewarned that the tone of this piece is a little up and down. This is intentional due to the mercurial and opposite natures of the characters involved. This story also plays with continuity a bit, so though it was originally intended to fit neatly with Mad Love, it's most definitely alternate universe. It still fits with the bulk of Harley's history, but it veers off and does its own thing. Even I'm not quite sure how I feel about the directions it takes and the implications for the character, but it demanded to go where it went, so I let it.

Trigger Warnings: I'm not quite sure how to warn for this. This contains depictions of fear toxin, which is an emotional and physical violation with traumatic after effects, and this could potentially be very triggering. There are some very warped ideas about interpersonal relationships that develop herein as well. Additionally, though there is no non-consensual sex, there is a scene that may still be triggering for those with non-con triggers. A warning for very brief ableism should be tacked on, too.

Please, please, PLEASE proceed with caution, and I hope you enjoy it.

***

There were few places on Gotham University's campus that were less popular than the Psychology classroom, due in no small part to the very unpleasant professor who taught there. The closest contender for the undesirable title of most hated location on site was the lecture room…but even so, it was universally loathed only when it when it had the aforementioned psychology professor in it. It was not an unusual occurrence to see some student reluctantly dragging their feet toward the psychology department, downtrodden and surly about their misfortune of having a conference with him, or even just going to class. It also wasn't uncommon for a passerby to extend their condolences to the unlucky soul who had to go see him for whatever reason.

Nobody liked Professor Crane, including those who didn't have classes with him. Certainly, some feared him or sucked up to him, some even respected him, but nobody liked him. Everyone wanted to spend as little time around him as possible: the bare minimum necessary to secure the college credits that would help them complete their degrees. He was so despised, in fact, that after his first year of teaching, the Dean exiled him to the only building on campus that housed just one classroom, evidently to keep him far enough away from the other professors that he couldn't infect them with his ill temper. His colleagues couldn't stand to be around him for anything more than the monthly University staff meeting, and some even called in sick to those.

All this was well known.

So when Harleen Quinzel, a plucky, bright eyed psychology student, confidently made her way across the quad on a Monday afternoon with what might have qualified as a spring in her step, eyebrows rose and whispered gossip started circulating almost immediately. From the moment she passed the old oak dubbed the Writing Tree, where superstitious students went to finish their term papers, to when she sashayed across the lawn in front of the legal library, jaws dropped and an adult game of telephone began with speculative rumors being passed from person to person.

"You don't think—"

"—to see Crane?"

"—never seen anybody looking so happy to go to the psych department—"