It was ironic, really. To wind up behind these walls when all she had ever done was advance the progress of the people that once belonged in these rooms. Ironic, and all she could do was smile, because she wouldn't change the past even if she had the choice. She was in here for a reason, they all were, but crazy and crazy in love? They were two different things her fellow psychiatrists and Gotham police had failed to see the difference between. But even though it had been months since she'd lost everything, she still had hope.
Because the love for her Joker was stronger than these madhouse walls, and one day he'd come for her like she had come for him.
The light above her flickered ever so slightly and she couldn't help but grin, because the day had come sooner than she had ever thought. The ground under her feet vibrated slightly and she giggled to herself, thinking of all the ways she would greet him when she saw him for the first time outside of the Asylum's walls. Maybe she would kiss him, or maybe she'd pretend she'd forgotten about him, maybe she'd slap him in the face for not coming sooner.
With the sound of thunder the room began to shake and warp underneath her, making it difficult to keep her balance as she ran to the door. She waited a moment, listening to the sounds in the hallway as the roaring got louder in the concrete walls.
"Earthquake!" someone yelled from beyond the door and she laughed with amusement as a chunk of cement fell from the ceiling to crash into the floor. She looked at it for a moment then grinned, she was on her way out.
"Help!" She screamed as loud as she could, pounding on the door as more debris fell from the ceiling and cracked the floor with a spiderweb of craters. As if on Que, the door burst open with a crash and two of the nurses ran in, after all, it would look extremely bad for the psychiatrist gone mad to be killed in a suspicious earthquake.
"Harleen?" They called, coughing on the dust and trying to study themselves on the shaking ground.
"I'm here," She called out weakly, holding a piece of the concrete between her hands.
"Where?" They called, fumbling closer as the light flickered off.
"Right...here!" She called as she smashed the concrete into the nearest nurse's head with a cackle.
"Jesus!" the other man cried out at the noise and she jumped toward the sound.
"He won't help you here, love," She whispered as she broke his neck. Freedom was only a few floors down, and not even the Batman could figure out a way to be here to stop her in time.
She jumped over the debris and into the flickering hallway, sprinting toward the window at the other end. She didn't have enough time to run down the stairs, and surely the police would be here soon to help with the cleanup, the only way out was down, and quickly at that.
Screaming was heard all through the hospital, cries of desperation and fear. Frantic chaos had never been so beautiful in that moment as she threw a stretcher through the glass and watched it shatter into the night.
She climbed into the window's empty frame, letting the cool wind hit her pale face as she gazed over the sparkling lights of Gotham. It was beautiful, but the part that made her heart beat was not escaping, or knowing that she would be able to see the sun again. The thought that made her heart race and her palms sweaty was knowing that in one of those buildings 6 stories below her was her Joker, and he was waiting for her.
With a grin on her face and the building shaking underneath the weight of her realization she jumped into the inviting ebony arms of the night.
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It wasn't about the money, it had never been about the money. It was about chaos, about anarchy. Destroying the society they had all carefully constructed, instilling fear in the system they all bowed down to. None of these-these buffoons understood that. It was all about the damn money to them, making a quick dime, that was power to them. He rubbed his temples with an exhale, his mind already wandering to the forbidden thoughts with the small chance.
"Boss," one of their voices droned.
"What?" He growled, refusing to open his eyes.
"You uh- you might want to see this," Fantastic. Something else to have gone wrong with the plan he was sure. The bastards, he was about to kill each and every one of them and complete the task by himself.
"Really?" he inquired sarcastically, "Unless you have the Batman hooked on your left arm you better-" he opened his eyes to his vision completely blocked out by a title. A head title on the front of the Gotham Times, that read:
"Former Psychiatrist Harleen Quinzel Escapes From Arkham Asylum"
He blinked once, the henchman looking at him with satisfaction, expecting some kind of reward. His jaw clenched as he looked at the one of his many workers, signaling with a finger for the man to come closer, which he did.
He wrapped one of his gloved hands into the man's hair with a smile as he yanked the man's face close to his. "You are a waste of my time," he hissed as he dug a knife into the man's throat and tossed him, bleeding and screaming, to the floor.
"Let that be a warning to all of you," he yelled standing so the whole warehouse could see him, "to not waste my time."
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Tonight had an electricity to it, he could feel it as he walked through the empty bank behind all of his henchmen. Tonight was a night for change, he didn't know what kind of change but he could feel it. Maybe he'd kill the Batman tonight, or maybe the people of Gotham would finally start to realize there was no stopping him. Either way, it was putting him in a shockingly good mood.
He walked lazily into the vault where the men were stacking the bills in sacks, a grin so wide even his scars stretched to show a few more teeth than usual. "Looking good, boys," he hummed cheerfully, taking out a lighter and playing with it. He was about to set a small stack on fire when shattering glass and screaming erupted from outside the vault. The henchmen jumped with the noise, looking to him for comfort, or maybe the signal to flee with worried eyes, but all he did was smile in return.
"Don't worry," he said with a wave of his hand, "I'll handle the Batman." and tucked the lighter back into his pocket, the grin he wore spreading ever so slightly.
Even the security lights were off in the bank now as he walked out of the vault, a cool breeze filtered in, knocking lose papers around and spreading the stench of blood and death toward him, in which he took a deep breath.
"I know you're supposed to be a bat," he chuckled, striding father away from the open vault, "but even this is a little dark for you, don't you think?"
"I don't know, it seems to be the perfect shade for me, I think." The voice froze him in his tracks, and even the Joker couldn't laugh in that moment. He spun around to face the source of the noise, slightly shocked by how close she was to the vault without him noticing. One security light flickered on behind her, illuminating her silhouette as she strode toward him, swinging what looked like a giant hammer in her hand. She wore black on one side and red on the other, each color hugging every curve and line of her body, her face painted white with ebony smirking lips, any man would've crumpled at her feet in that second. Specifically a man who found harlequins especially sexy.
"Excuse me," he said with a chuckle as a smirk stretched across his lips, "I thought you were someone else."
"Aw," she cooed as she stepped into another light so that he could see her full face, "can't you recognize me, puddin'?"
"Boss, do you need some help with the-" the henchman choked on his words as he caught sight of the disturbance, "W-who's this?"
And before the Joker could shoo him away, a wicked grin stretched upon her black lips, "Why, I'm Harley Quinn, his girlfriend."
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