An Arkham Doctor stood outside of Arkham Asylum, the umbrella in his hand shielding him from the pouring rain. An Arkham guard stood beside him, the rain doing nothing to stagger his military like poster. After a few minutes like this, both men shifted as a car stopped in front of them.
"Ah!" The doctor smiled, walking towards the car as the driver opened the door. "Miss Quinzel?"
"In the flesh." Harleen gave him a smile.
"Let me help you." The Doctor held out his hand as he held the umbrella over Harleen's head, ensuring the rain wouldn't touch her.
"Thank you." Harleen nodded, gratefully.
"Don't mention it." The doctor smiled. "Now, come on, let's chat inside."
The two huddled under the umbrella as they walked through the front door of Arkham, the guard silently following behind them. When they were in, The doctor closed his umbrella and shook it to get the water droplets off, the guard instinctively went to a nearby janitor's closet and out down a wet floor sign.
"Matt, I don't think that's necessary," The doctor said with a chuckle.
"Just being safe," Matt finally spoke.
The doctor let out another chuckle. "Miss Quinzel, meet Matthew Harlan."
"Charmed." Harleen held out her hand.
"Please to meet the famous Harleen Quinzel." Matt shook her hand.
"Oh, are you a fan?" Harleen asked.
"Read your book, very insightful," Matt said.
"Thanks, glad to know it isn't just doctors who enjoy my work," Harleen said.
"Speaking of doctors," the doctor held out his hand, "I'm doctor-"
"Henry Rose, I read your file," Harleen finished. "You've done good work here."
"Oh, that means a lot coming from you," Henry said, grinning goofily. "I'm honestly surprised you even came here, let alone know who I am."
"I put the needs of the patients over my needs," Harleen said. "Arkham may be considered a backwater institution by the outside world, but I'm not going to let the last man in here rot due to this place's poor reputation."
"I see you couldn't escape this place’s poor reviews..." Henry frowned, rubbing the back of his in embarrassment. "Still, you came, anyway. That's all that matters."
"Look, I don't want to be rude, but I would gladly get to know you two later," Harleen said, friendly tone changing to a much more serious and professional one. "Right now, I want to see him."
"Oh, of course!" Henry shook his head, getting back on track. "He's in the cafeteria now."
Harleen walked into the cafeteria to see what was, for her, a tragic sight. The Joker was in this large, empty cafeteria, alone, sitting at the table farthest from the door, tucked into the room's right corner. Guards surrounded him, two stood to either side of him, and Harleen didn't fail to notice the two outside the door of the room, and the two inside the door of the room.
"Doesn't this seem like a bit much?" Harleen asked. "He's just one man."
"No," Matt answered, bluntly.
"What Matt means is...well...this man, single handedly, brought Gotham to its knees," Henry said. "He did almost as much damage as those crazed, fear gas lobbing terrorist Crane allied himself with."
"He's still a human being," Harleen criticized. "A patient shouldn't be treated like a wild animal."
"Wait until you get to know him," Matt whispered under his breath.
"That is my job," Harleen said.
Matt's stoic demeanor dropped. "You...you heard that?"
"Yes, I did." Harleen glared at him.
Harleen's gaze was piercing, and Matt had to look away. Henry widened his eyes, impressed with Harleen's ability to make even someone like Matt uncomfortable. Before he could say anything to her, she had already turned on her high heel, and was making her way over to The Joker.
"Joker?" Harleen took her seat across from The Joker.
Dark, baggy eyes looked up from the food, and soon, a carved up face turned into a big, toothy grin, rows of yellow teeth greeted Harleen.
"I am Dr. Harleen Quinzel, I'll be your psychiatrist," Harleen explained.
"Really?" The Joker spoke up, he looked to one of the guards. "Is it April fools day? Or are one of you idiots actually trying to cure me?"
"Shut it, clown!" One of the guards spat.
"Hey, that is unnecessary," Harleen scolded the guard.
"Is this b-" The guard was about to call Harleen a rather crude name, but cut himself when she glared.
"Oh, this ones tough!" The Joker squeed in excitement. "Good, it's been so boring around here, and I need a challenge."
"I've read your files, Joker," Harleen began. "I know all of your tricks and manipulations, and I won't be so easily swayed."
"A little fight in you, I like that," The Joker said.
"Good, at least I can have some level of respect from you at the start of our sessions," Harleen said.
"That wasn't a compliment," The Joker said. "That was I said to the last woman I spoke to...right before I had her blown up."
"Yes, Rachel Dawes," Harleen said, lower her eyes. "I saw the news."
"It was all in an effort to break Harvey Dent," The Joker said. "I may have failed the ferries, but his fall would prove that no one is good, and everyone is just as bad as I am."
"Unfortunately for you, you failed," Harleen noted. "Harvey died a hero, and Gotham is prospering under his posthumous acts."
The Joker burst out into a sudden fit of laughter. Everyone but Harleen jumped.
"What's so funny?" Harleen asked, casually.
"That he's got all you fooled," The Joker said.
"Who does?" Harleen asked, curiously.
"Doesn't matter," The Joker sighed. "The truth will come out, eventually. That, however, is for another time. Right now, let's focus on you...Harley Quinn."
Harleen rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you won't be too pleased to know I've heard that so many times it stopped getting under my skin years ago."
"I'm not calling you that to annoy you, I'm giving my new friend a nickname," The Joker said.
"Friend?" Harleen was taken aback by this.
"Yes," The Joker said. "Friend."
"I'm afraid I can't have friendships in this kind of situation," Harleen said. "It's unprofessional. I want to help you, Joker. Maybe, when you're cured, then I can be your friend."
"Shame." The Joker pouted. "A friend is someone you can trust...someone who you can share all your secrets with..."
Harleen narrowed her eyes at him.
"Sorry for the interruption," a guard spoke up. "However, his lunch time is up."
"Of course." Harleen stood up.
"Such a shame you must leave now," The Joker said. "When do the real sessions begin?"
"We can begin our sessions in a week," Harleen answered, checking her watch.
"Time already slows down in this place," The Joker lamented. "A week will feel like a hundred."
"Then I'll be sure to be there for you to make up for it," Harleen said. "I will get you help, Joker. I will cure you."
"If you say so,” The Joker said as he was lead out of the cafeteria.
Harley watched him intently as he left.
”Miss Quinzel, I know I’m the one that called you here, and I’m one of the last people on Earth to doubt your abilities, but do you think you can truly cure him?” Henry asked.
”Anyone can be saved,” Harleen assured. “If they desire it enough.”
”I don’t think pure evil can change,” Matt noted.
”Pure evil doesn’t exist,” Harleen said. “That is a simplistic view on human morality.“
”Some people aren’t that complex,” Matt noted, before walking out of the room.
”Sorry about him,” Henry said. “In Gotham, it’s hard to find someone who isn’t cynical.”
”It’s okay, Doctor,” Harleen said. “I don’t entirely blame him. Joker is definitely the sickest patient I’ve ever had, both literally and metaphorically, but I know, deep down, there is a small piece of humanity screaming out in agony at the actions he committed. I am here to pull piece that out of him.”
The Joker listened to Harleen as he was escorted out, a wicked smile growing on his face.
”I know I can get through to him,” Harleen said, confidently.
In honor of the success of 2019's "Joker", and the late, great Heath Ledger.
Author's Note: I am blatantly aware that I am a amateur writer who has just finished his second semester in college. I'm not Nolan, so I apologize in advanced for any character inconsistencies. I'm just fans writing this because I want to, and hey, at least I'm not shipping him with a reader 😅 (No offense to those people, you do what you want, more power to you)
Chapter 2: Session #1
Harleen awoke in her apartment at 6:00 AM. Yawning, she rubbed her tired eyes and slipped out of bed, being sure not to disturb her bedmate while doing so, then made her way to her bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror, blue eyes stared deep inside her, before she opened the medication bottles she left at sink, and took two pills. When she left, her guest was awake and getting dressed.
"Oh, is something wrong, Mary?" Harleen asked.
"It's Sam, and I'm leaving," Sam said.
"Oh, so soon?" Harleen asked. "Can't you stay for just a little longer? I'll make you breakfast!"
"Uh...no, I'm good," Sam assured, clearly growing more concerned.
"P-please?" Harleen's voice shook with desperation. "I'll p-pay you extra."
"You payed me enough to put on that wig and role play as that Mary chick." Sam slipped on her jacket and grabbed her purse. "Thank you, and good day."
"But...but..." Harleen wanted to argue, but she knew there was nothing she could say.
"Bye." Sam kept her hand in her open purse, ready to mace Harleen if she tried anything. Fortunately for her, Harleen just stood there, stuttering out pleas for her to stay as she strolled out.
"Can't you just..." Harleen stopped her pleading when she heard her apartment door shut. "Bye."
The rest of the morning was uneventful for Harleen. She eat breakfast, brushed her teeth, got dressed, then left for Arkham.
"Ah, and so it begins," The Joker said as he was lead into the therapy room.
"Joker, glad to see you," Harleen said, genuinely. "I hope the wait wasn't agonizing."
"It was," The Joker answered, bluntly.
"Shame, but like I said before, now that everything is set up, I'll make it up to you," Harleen said.
"No worries, Doctor." The Joker smiled at her. "I'll make sure you do."
"Was that a threat, clown?!" Matt grabbed The Joker's collar.
"That's enough!" Harleen scolded. "If you make anymore attempts to assault my patient, I'll be sure to have you reported!"
"But I-" Matt tried to explain.
"Get out!" Harleen ordered.
Matt sighed, but put up no argument, and left the room.
"Thanks doc," The Joker said.
"Don't mention it." Harleen motioned towards the couch in front of her. "Please, sit, it's time we begin."
"Soft and cushy?" The Joker asked.
"Anything to make a patient feel comfortable," Harleen answered.
"Not for me," The Joker said as he laid down.
"You don't like to feel comfortable?" Harleen asked, clicking her pen.
"Uncomfortable is comfortable for me," The Joker answered. "I hate soft, I hate clean, and I hate sweet smells. I want metal, splintering wood, poor hygiene, and disgusting, polluted air."
"Is that why you refuse to brush your teeth?" Harleen asked.
"Yeah," The Joker answered.
"This is strange, because it's reported you used the mob money you stole to buy yourself a very expensive and, dare I say, clean, suit," Harleen noted.
"I did that just to screw with the mob types," The Joker said, waving her off. "I mean, look at me now!"
Harleen expected The Joker, and he did look horrid. Black patches of dirt stained his skin and clothing, gloves had degraded, now bearing a resemblance to fingerless gloves the bums walking the streets wore, and, of course, his yellow, rotting teeth. Harleen was still surprised they haven't fallen out, yet.
"Go on," The Joker pushed. "Say I look terrible."
"You don't look terrible, you look troubled," Harleen noted. "I've been studying your file over the week, and it stated you attack the staff every time they try to clean you."
"Like I said, I want to be like this," The Joker said.
"Why?" Harleen finally asked. "What in your life made you desire to turn your back on humanity to such an extent, you don't even brush your teeth?"
"What made you want to this?" The Joker shot back with his own question.
"Excuse me?" Harleen was taken aback.
"Why are you here?" The Joker titled his head, curiously. "What in your life made you desire to poke around in people's heads?"
"I can't tell you that, Joker," Harleen answered. "That's-"
"Too personal?" The Joker finished. "You're not the only one here who knows how to read a person."
"I highly doubt-" Harleen began.
"You're a lonely woman, aren't you?" The Joker interrupted.
"I...I'm..." Harleen tried to stay professional, but she let her shock show.
"You most likely suffer from some form of depression, you take pills in the morning and night?" The Joker asked.
Harleen didn't say anything, and that was all the answer he needed.
"You're lonely, and you get too attached," The Joker continued. "The Asylum brings around books every once in a while, and I've read yours. So, I guess you could say, I can read you like an open book." He laughed out loud at his own joke.
"Well, Joker, that was all very impressive, but just because-" Harleen tried to regain control over the session, but The Joker interrupted her once again.
"One of your parents was abusive, neglectful, abandoned you, or some messed up combination of the three," The Joker said. "You strayed away of talking about your past in your book, but I can see it in your eyes."
Harleen narrowed her eyes at him. "What else do you see?"
"Heartbreak." The Joker's tone shifted to something soft, and gentle. "You didn't just lose someone, you've lost multiple people in your life, haven't you?"
Harleen's eyes watered, lip quivering as she gave up. "Yes."
"You blame yourself for every single one of them, don't you?" The Joker asked.
Tears began to run down Harleen's face. "Yes."
"Jack Napier," The Joker said.
"Huh?" Harleen looked up at him, drying her eyes.
"My name is Jack Napier," The Joker repeated.
"Your...your real name?” Harleen asked, shocked.
”Yes.” The Joker nodded.
”Why?” Harleen asked.
”Because you were honest with me,” The Joker answered. “You want to get in here?” He tapped his temple. “I want to know who you are, Harley. I won’t be like any patient you’ve had before. No, this will be a two way street. For every detail you tell me about yourself, I’ll tell you that very same detail about myself. You tell me your childhood, I’ll tell you mine. You tell me your love life, and I mean all of it, and I’ll tell you, well and truly, how I got these scars. However, most importantly, I want you to tell me the mistakes you made, why you blame yourself for every loss in your life.”
”I don’t know about this, Jack,” Harleen said, regaining her bearings. “This sounds too much like a-“
”A relationship?” The Joker finished. “I’m not asking for that, I just want to get to know my friend. If you really want to help me, you need to know what the problems are, and I’ll only tell, if you tell first.”
Harleen looked at the door to the interview room, then at her feet. She saw a hand enter her line of sight.
”Deal?” The Joker asked.
Harleen sighed. “Deal.” She shook his hand. “I want to start now, though.”
”With?” The Joker asked.
”Childhood,” Harleen answered.
”When did your hardships start for you?” The Joker asked.
Harleen closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “It all started when I was eight years old...”
Chapter 3: Childhood
Harleen was awoken in the dead of night by what sounded like the front door of her apartment being roughly opened. She froze, wondering if someone had broken in, and her breathing picked up as the person made their way towards her room. Harleen sighed in relief when her father, Nick Quinzel, opened the door to her room.
"Daddy?" Harleen sat up.
"Hey sweetie." Nick smiled. "I hope I didn't spook you."
"I thought you were at work." Harleen rubbed her eyes.
"I was but...something came up," Nick said. "I just need to stop to get a few things, and then I'll be back to work."
"Do you want mommy to help?" Harleen asked.
"No, no," Nick answered. "Mommy doesn't need to know."
"Okay." Harleen looked down, and Nick lifted her chin so her eyes met his.
"You know I love you, right?" Nick asked. "With every fiber of my being."
Harleen smiled, and nodded. "I love you, too."
"Good." Nick smiled, tears in his eyes. "Don't you forget it, kiddo. Promis me, that."
"I promise," Harleen said.
"Now, please, get some sleep." Nick kissed her forehead. "You'll be needing it."
"Okay." Harleen laid her head down on her pillow as Nick left her bedroom. "Good night, daddy."
"Good night, sweetie." Nick closed the door behind him, and Harley was out in seconds.
"WHAT?!" Harleen's mother, Sharon Quinzel, screamed, waking Harleen.
Harleen rushed out of bed, and out into the hallway. There, she saw two police men talking with her mother.
"Ma'am, we believe your husband, Nick Quinzel, is a con artist," One officer said. "He's scammed dozens across Brooklyn, and maybe other states."
"No...No...Nick has business job, it's why he...oh God..." Sharon covered her mouth as realization set in.
"Mommy?" Harleen made herself known.
"Oh shit," The younger officer sworn.
"Shut it, Lucas!" The older officer hissed. "Hey there," he got down on one knee," what's your name?"
"H-Harleen," Harleen answered.
"That's a real pretty name," The older officer gave her a warm smile. "My name is Henry."
"I like that name," Harleen said, then she frowned. "What's wrong with daddy?"
Henry frowned, and looked over to Lucas, who shook his head. "Honey, your father has done a lot of bad things, and...we don't think he'll be coming home, again."
Harleen's eyes widened in horror. "No...he was here last night!"
Henry's eyes widened, and he looked back at Lucas, who had a similar reaction.
"What do you mean?!" Sharon asked.
"Daddy came here, said something came up with work..." Harleen's eyes began to water. "He said he was just going to grab something for work, and then head out."
"The money," Lucas said. "Fucking coward didn't even leave his family a dime."
"Lucas!" Henry scolded.
"You let him leave?" Sharon glared at her daughter.
Harleen widened her eyes in fear. She knew that tone Sharon had with her, it was the same tone she got when she was angry. When she was angry, Sharon would hurt Harleen, but Nick would usually calm her down. Sharon had been taking pills, and other things 'to make the voices go away', as Harleen once heard her say, and had been getting angry less, but now she was angry, again.
"You little bitch!" Sharon shouted.
"Ma'am!" Henry got in between Sharon and Harleen, but the former stunned him with an unexpected slap.
"Whoa!" Lucas put his hand on his waste, reaching for his taser.
"You were in on it, weren't you?!" Sharon grabbed Harleen's arm, nails digging into her skin. "I knew they were right, your a whore, a worthless money waster that would only cause me pain!"
"Let go of her, you crazy bitch!" Lucas shouted, aiming his taser at Sharon.
"I should've killed you that night." Sharon ignored Lucas' threats. "The day I brought back to this shit apartment, after you were born."
"Lady, I mean it!" Lucas shouted.
"I heard it, the little voice in my head, that grew into a loud screaming chant that made it impossible to think!" Sharon screamed. "Smother, smother, smother, smother...I knew you were nothing but a devil, I knew-" she was cut off by Lucas pulling the trigger, she shot up straight, twitching for a few seconds before she fell to the ground. Unconscious.
"Holy shit..." Lucas' breathing was heavy.
"My God, are you okay?" Henry asked Harleen.
"I'm sorry!" Harleen cried, hugging Henry. "I didn't know!"
"It's okay, honey." Henry held Harleen as she wept. "It's not your fault."
"What happened to your mother?" The Joker asked.
"What do you think?" Harleen didn't hide her bitterness. "She was locked up. I visited her on occasion, and she would beg for forgiveness."
"Did you give her any?" The Joker asked.
Harleen shook her head. "I couldn't..."
"That's understandable." The Joker looked down. "My mother died giving birth to me."
Harleen looked up, but didn't say anything.
"My father blamed me for it, and would beat me daily," The Joker began. "It got worse as I got older, though. By eight years old, he was locking me in shed in our backyard. I would either sleep on the splintery floor, or on his cold, metal tool desk."
"I see..." Harleen looked at The Joker, sympathetically.
"My only escape was comedy," The Joker explained. "I would watch stand up comedians or sitcoms on the television."
"Sp that's why comfortable is uncomfortable for you," Harleen said.
"It's all I've ever known," The Joker, miserably.
"Is he the one that gave you your scars?" Harleen asked.
"No, that happened later," The Joker answered. "When I..."
Harleen leaned in, but The Joker shook his head.
"Not yet, Miss Quinn,” The Joker said. “Not yet.”
”Well, it appears we’re out of time.” Harleen checked her watch. “I’m afraid we’ll need to continue this discussion next time. Thank you, Joker. I feel we’ve made exceptional progress even though this is our first session.”
”Don't mention it, Doc,” The Joker said, smiling.
”Thank you for...” Harleen hesitated for a moment. “Thank you for hearing my story. I’ve never told anyone.”
”Thank you for sharing it with me,” The Joker said with a gracious nod. “Can I ask you one question?”
”Yes.” Harleen already knew what he was going to ask. “That incident was why I’m a psychiatrist.”
”That’s all I wanted to know,” The Joker said.
Harleen smiled at him.
Chapter 4: For Want of a Nail
The Joker, once again, sat alone in Arkham's cafeteria. The two guards watched him eat with focus, but slowly and surely, one of them began to squirm.
"Something wrong, Frank?" One guard asked the other.
"Nah, I just got to take a leak," Frank said.
"Go on, man," The guard assured.
"You sure, Lewis?" Frank asked, concern evident in his tone as he looked down at The Joker.
"I can watch this guy for a few minutes," Lewis assured, waving Frank off. "Now go."
"Be back as quick as I can!" Frank jogged out of the room.
The Joker watched him leave intently, and the second he was out, turned to Lewis.
"Keep eating, clown." Lewis aimed his gun at The Joker. "I'm sure even a death seeking psycho likes you doesn't want to go out messy."
"I just wanted to talk," The Joker said.
"There isn't anything to talk ab-" Lewis was cut off when The Joker pulled out a wad of cash, seemingly from nowhere. "What is that?"
"Money, Lewis," The Joker answered, waving the cash. "I'm sure even a guy with your brains could recognize that."
"How did you get that in here?" Lewis asked.
"Had it since you brought me in, waiting for a moment like this," The Joker said, grinning.
"A moment like what?" Lewis asked.
"I've been in this place long enough to know everything," The Joker began. "I know every exit, every guard, and every...camera."
Lewis had a sudden realization, and looked up. Just as he feared, the reason The Joker always sat in this corner was because it was just under the cafeteria's camera's view.
"Why do we only have one of those things?!" Lewis lamented.
"Lewis, I have to make this quick," The Joker said, regaining Lewis' attention. "I know about your...finical issues."
"Yiu need to be more quiet when talking about such...personal...matters," The Joker mocked. "That's where this baby comes in, in this wad of cash is over $3,000 dollars, the perfect amount to pay off that particularly nasty college fee your son needs to start his next semester."
"Give me-" Lewis instinctively reached for it, but The Joker pulled it out of his reach. "Listen to me you-"
"You really want to fight me for it?" The Joker asked in a low, raspy tone.
Lewis suddenly remembered who he was dealing with, and backed off. "You're obviously going to offer me a deal."
"Smart man." The Joker playfully clicked his tongue, and winked. "I want you to poison your partners food to make sure the next time he goes to the bathroom, it won't be for just a leak. Then, while he's gone I want you to sexually assault Miss Quinzel when she stops by for her daily, non-session visit."
"No," Lewis said.
"Fuck you." Lewis spat. "I ain't raping a woman...nothing is worth that."
"Okay, okay, you win." The Joker accepted defeat. "Just make her think you are."
"Not doing something and doing something are two drastically different things," The Joker said, condescendingly. "I don't need to explain that, do I?"
"I'll lose my job...who knows how much I'll lose!" Lewis shouted. "How will I even get the money?!"
"Lewis, I promise you, your family will not suffer financially if you do this," The Joker assured.
Lewis was blinded by desperation. "Fine."
"Great." The Joker smiled, and tossed him a small vile.
"The poison for your friend's lunch," The Joker answered, casually. "Before you ask, yes. I had that when you brought me in, too."
"How did you sneak so much in?" Lewis asked, dumbfounded.
"Mabye the Arkham should learn that metal detectors aren't the only thing you need to search somebody," The Joker snarked.
"One last question," Lewis said. "Why?"
The Joker didn't answer, he just gave Lewis a cheeky grin.
Lewis scoffed. "Figures."
Harleen arrived at the Arkham cafeteria just as Frank was running out.
"Excuse me, Miss Quin!" Frank past, gripping his stomach.
"Oh...uh...are you...?" Harleen didn't get to finish asking before Frank slammed the bathroom door shut. Shrugging, she entered the cafeteria, and was greeted by a smiling Joker, and Lewis, who seemed very much on edge. "Hello Joker, I hope you've been doing well."
"Oh, exceptionally," The Joker said with a smile. "I feel like I'm happy, well and truly happy for the first time in my life!"
"That's wonderful!" Harleen beamed, reaching across the table to touch The Joker's hand. "You'll be out in no time at all."
"Oh, I know I will." The Joker watched as Lewis slowly made his way around the table.
"Um...is something wrong?" Harleen asked Lewis, uncomfortably.
Lewis didn't say anything, he just punched her sending her flying down the cafeteria aisle. The Joker watched intently as Lewis stalked towards.
"What are doing?!" Harleen tried to crawl away, but Lewis grabbed her ankle and pulled her towards him. He raised his hand, hesitantly, the grabbed her shirt. "No." Harleen's eyes widened.
Before Lewis could continue, The Joker jumped onto his back and began to dig his metal fork into Lewis' neck. "Run!"
Harleen didn't need any more pressing then that, she just got to her feet and ran out of the cafeteria, screaming for the other guards.
"Thanks Lewis." The Joker patted Lewis' shoulder as his struggling slowed. "No worries, I'll be kept my end of the deal...well...if you have life insurance I will be."
Frank, Harleen, Henry and Matt all watched over the security footage. Soon enough, Harleen was seen flying down the aisle, and Lewis was seen grabbing her.
"I don't understand...why would Lewis do this?" Frank took off his helmet and ran his hand through his hair. "Lewis was a good guy...had a wife and son...why-"
"They don't need a reason," Harleen said, bitterly.
"Excuse me?” Frank looked to Harleen, shocked.
”People don’t need a reason!” Harleen glared at Frank. “Stuff like this happens all the time, someone gets too touchy feely for someone else’s liking, and it turns into something bad.”
”I don’t understand,” Frank said.
”Of course you don’t, you knew him,” Harleen said, watching the film with grim recognition. “Then they hurt someone you love...and you wish you had noticed sooner. Just be lucky The Joker killed him before he could do the same to your wife, or, God help him, even your daughter.”
”Lewis would never-“ Frank wanted to argue. “That freak, he must’ve-“
”Oh, blame everybody but him!” Harleen shouted in rage. “Blame everybody but yourself for not noticing!”
”Harleen, that’s enough.” Henry placed a hand on her shoulder.
”Right...” Harleen adjusted herself, and her professionalism returned. “I hope you understand I’ll be mentioning this in my review.”
”I...” Henry sighed. “I...understand.”
”Good day, gentlemen.” Harleen walked out of the room.