Brink of Madness

Goodbye, Dr. Quinzel

She couldn't take it anymore. She had to figure out a way to escape that gave her a little bit of time to outrun him. He would definitely find out if she went to the police, so that wouldn't work. Suddenly it came to her. She put three pairs of clothes, her wallet, and a picture of Abby in her backpack. She was going to drive as far away as possible. Her phone was left behind in her drawer; the Joker had probably put a tracker in it. She sped through Gotham's streets as fast as she could. She was so close, only minutes away from being out of the city. The one thing she failed to notice was the black van coming straight for the side of her car.

The bedroom spun around her as Harleen slowly woke up. Her head hurt like hell and the whole left side of her face felt swollen.

"You really are a sight for sore eyes," he chuckled. She started shaking. She couldn't handle it anymore.

"Don't worry, the cops won't know what happened. I didn't leave any evidence," he grinned.

"Are you happy?" she screamed. He looked at her puzzled.

"You finally broke me," she sobbed. Her fingernails dug into her palms.

"I'm broken, I'm a mess, I'm hurt," she cried. He walked over and plopped himself next to her. She started punching his stomach. Instead of attempting to choke her, he let her do it. Besides he couldn't feel it, she was really weak at the moment. She kept on punching until she collapsed on his lap. She cried and the Joker did something that she would have never expected. He wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled her tighter. Instead of fighting it, she relaxed her body and let herself fall asleep.

The light coming through her window was what woke her up. She felt slightly better six hours later. Her eyes widened as she suddenly realized that the thing her head was on was not a pillow. She lifted her sore head to see that it was in fact, the lap of the Joker. She shot out of the bed.

"Feeling any better doll?" He grinned.

"You probably gave me a concussion," she hissed.

"What did you think would happen if you tried to escape?" he glared at her. He did have a point. She looked in the mirror to see that the left side of her face was completely bruised. Her hair was matted down by blood.

"You're lucky that I'm not missing work since it's Sunday," she grumbled.

"You couldn't do much anyways. You can barely stand," he commented, "Why don't you get a shower?"

"Not with you here," she said.

"As fun is it is to argue with you, I was about to leave anyways. I have work to do, if you know what I mean," he smiled. She watched him walk out the door.

She definitely had a concussion. She spent the first half of her Sunday trying to read over the patient files she had brought home and failed miserably. She didn't bother to dress up since she was staying home and only wore a robe after taking her shower. Her head was resting on her pillow as she tried to take a nap.

"This feels nice," she muttered to herself. All of the sudden the front door slammed open. She knew who it was.

"Harleen!" he yelled.

"What is it this time?" She grunted. He stumbled into her room. She gasped. The Joker's left arm was a bloody mess.

"Oh my gosh were you shot?" she asked running over to him.

"What does it look like?" he grumbled. The blood had soaked through his patterned shirt. "I need you to stitch me up," he said. He took a seat on her bed.

"Um okay," she stuttered. She wasn't completely sure if she knew how to do that. "I need you to take your vest and shirt off."

"Yes Ma'am," he joked and painfully tried to unbutton his clothes with one hand.

"Here I'll help," she said reluctantly. She tore his shirt off to reveal a big wound on his shoulder. The bullet had gone right through the side of his arm. "Hold this on it while I get my supplies," she gave him a towel and looked for her sewing kit. The Joker didn't even budge when she was sewing him up.

"So how'd it happen," she asked after she finished.

"The police found me but I got away. Don't worry though, I killed my intended targets," he grinned.

"You're crazy," she chuckled.

"No I'm not uh," he clicked his tongue. That was such an ironic thing to say. Then it clicked in Harleen's head. The way the Joker viewed himself was different than what she had previously thought. She collapsed onto her bed. He decided to lay down with her. She could feel her heart rate go up. This was too familiar.

"How's your messed up head," he smirked.

"Still messed up," She sighed. He chucked. She watched the way his scars lifted up with his smile.

"Do they scare you? My scars?" he stared at her.

"Actually they don't. I think they add character," she smiled.

"You're probably the only person who thinks that," he said. She inched closer to him and reached out to touch his scarred smile. Her fingers traced the places that were once smooth. She felt kind of sorry for him. The scars were beautiful to her, but she was almost positive that they were what pushed him over the edge. He grasped her hand. She looked up to see that he was only inches away from him.

"Andrew," she started to say. His lips crashed into hers. She cupped his face and began to kiss back. Then she pulled back once she realized what she was doing. He looked at the wild eyed girl laying beside him.

"Quit being Dr. Quinzel and be Harley for now," he whispered. She nodded and kissed him. It was better than old times. He was new and exciting. He was rougher. She wanted everything he was offering her. She ran her hands through his hair as he undid her robe belt. She let the robe slip off of her. The two went to a twisted sort of heaven.