Shadows of the Past

The night had started off like any other for the Joker and Harley Quinn. Joker had planned a comic crime for Batman to foil, kidnapping several hostages and holding them prisoner at the factory that produced his Joker toxin. The hostages would be slowly gassed with the toxin, laughing themselves to death, until Batman showed up to save them…which he did, naturally. Unfortunately for Joker, Batman was on a tight schedule that night – he had several other supervillains planning simultaneous crimes also involving a potential threat to innocent people, so rather than a long, drawn-out battle with Joker, Batman merely freed the hostages and then immediately set off to stop the other crimes.

All of which resulted in Batman trying to escape the Joker's clutches, dragging him across the ground as he clung to his leg shouting desperately, "No, Bats, you can't leave! Beat me! Thwart me! Foil me!"

Harley had rarely seen a more sickening display, and she hated it. She hated her lover's bizarre obsession with Batman anyway, but she especially hated it when it made Mr. J act all needy and pathetic. That was Harley's way of acting around him, but it was all wrong to see Mr. J act that way around anyone.

"Bats, no! No! Come back! Hurt me!" cried Joker as Batman managed to free himself and flew off into the night at last, disappearing into the shadows.

Harley sighed heavily. "C'mon, Mr. J, get up," she snapped, holding out her hand to help him up. "He's gone."

"All that work for nothing," muttered Joker, climbing to his feet. "All that kidnapping and trap-setting, and he doesn't even fight me. It's like he doesn't care sometimes, Harley. He could at least show a little appreciation."

"Yeah, you could too sometimes," agreed Harley.

"I think I show him I appreciate him a lot – all of my crimes are based around getting his attention," said Joker.

"I meant appreciate me, Mr. J!" snapped Harley. "Me! Your girlfriend! Not some random nutjob in a bat costume!"

"You watch what you say about Bats, you little brat," snapped Joker.

Harley sighed heavily. "God, this obsession is getting outta hand," she muttered. "Y'know, when I was your shrink, Mr. J, I thought that you hated Batman because you resented what he did to you at Ace Chemicals. I mean, he's basically responsible for your existence as the Joker, and for you forgetting your entire past. I thought you wanted revenge on him for that."

"Why would I want revenge on him turning me into the Joker?" asked Joker, puzzled. "I love me. And whoever I used to be can't be as great as I am now. I don't really wanna remember a past where I wasn't the handsome, talented, hysterically funny clown I am today. I don't resent Bats at all – I'm really grateful to him. He gave me a purpose in life, somebody to fight every night, somebody who understands me…"

"I understand you, Mr. J," interrupted Harley.

"No, you don't," he retorted. "You just said you thought I resented Bats and wanted revenge. You were always a crap shrink, Harley. Always wanted to see me as the poor, innocent victim – no wonder it was so easy to twist your mind, you dumb blonde."

Harley bristled. "You didn't twist my mind," she snapped. "I chose to be your Harley Quinn because I love you! And I want to help you in any way I can! I thought I'd be helping you get revenge on Batman for what he's done to you, but clearly you don't really want that! You'd rather thank him instead!"

"Yeah, and don't you thank me every day for making you into Harley Quinn?" demanded Joker. "Don't you thank me for making you into what you always should have been, for drawing out the natural tendencies for homicide and violence that you buried deep inside you for years and years? That's what Bats did for me too! So yeah, I'm a little grateful to him, as you should be for me, you little brat! Without him, I'd probably still be some boring do-gooder or two-bit criminal instead of the insanely comic genius I am! And without me, you'd still be wasting your life as a shrink in Arkham, rotting away with all the other freaks and weirdos without having half as much fun! So I'd appreciate a little less lip from you in the future, Harley. You owe me everything, and you should be grateful I've kept you around as long as I have, not criticize me for my interactions with Batman, which are frankly none of your business."

"None of my business?" repeated Harley. "I'm your girlfriend, Mr. J! It's my business when my boyfriend makes a complete fool of himself by groveling to another man! My boyfriend groveling to anyone makes me sick!"

"Well, now you know how I feel about your pathetic displays toward me," retorted Joker. "All your agonizing attempts to seduce me and beg sex outta me – it's as much a turn-off to me as that is for you."

"So you're saying they're right?" demanded Harley. "All those people on the internet, and speculation in the papers? The way you feel about Bats is the same way I feel about you. Do you try to beg sex outta him when I'm not looking?"

Joker struck her a harsh blow across the face. "How dare you, you useless waste of space?!" he roared. "How dare you of all people say that to me?!"

"Because I'm the only one with the guts to say it to your face," retorted Harley, glaring at him. "The only one who ain't afraid of you. But then maybe nobody would be if they'd seen you pleading with Batman earlier."

Joker hit her again, and Harley retaliated. She grabbed her hammer and struck him in the face with it, hearing it crack satisfyingly across his nose. Joker roared in pain, and then leapt forward to seize her, knocking her to the ground. She kicked out, knocking him back and then leaping to her feet with one swift movement, hammer in hand again as she brought it down hard against his cheek. Joker's fist shot out, colliding with her jaw, and she fell back, winded. Joker was on her again, his hands tightening around her throat as he throttled her. Harley struggled to breathe, stretching out for her hammer just out of her reach…

And then she grabbed it, smashing it down on the top of his head. She combined this with a strong kick upward which sent Joker flying over her head…and off the ledge behind her.

Harley instantly knew she had gone too far. "Mr. J!" she shrieked, struggling to her feet and racing to the edge, looking down. Joker had landed on a pile of empty boxes, which had broken his fall, but it looked like that combined with the hammer blow had knocked him unconscious.

"Oh, he's gonna kill me when he wakes up!" she hissed, racing down the stairs. "If he wakes up! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, Mr. J, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for it to go that far, it just escalated so quickly and got outta hand…"

She reached him and checked his pulse, sighing in relief at the fact that he was still alive. "Thank God," she whispered, lifting up his unconscious body and carrying it over her shoulders. "Let's get you home and bandaged up."

They had had fights like this before, thought Harley, many, many fights, but she had never been so aggressive as to knock him off a roof. One of their fights had resulted in Harley being thrown out of a window and all of her bones broken, and she sincerely hoped, as she bandaged his wounds at the hideout, that the same wouldn't be true for him. She had attended medical school, and there didn't appear to be any long-term damage done to his physical frame anyway. And that was a huge relief, she thought, as she gazed upon his calm, expressionless face. She loved him madly, she really did, even if their relationship wasn't ideal. And she couldn't have lived with herself if she had been responsible for any permanent damage to him, the only man she ever loved.

She felt him stir, and smiled, planting a kiss on his lips. "Wakey wakey, puddin'," she purred.

He opened his green eyes and stared at her strangely. Harley had never seen that look in his eyes before – it looked almost as if he didn't recognize her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, stroking his hair back. "You had a nasty fall."

"I'm feeling…fine," he stammered, still looking at her with that same unfamiliar expression. "Just fine. Um…who are you?"

Harley stared at him, and then laughed. "I'm Harley, puddin'," she replied. "Your Harley Quinn, remember, who loves you madly? Geez, that must have been some bump on the noggin I gave you. Either that, or this is all some joke trying to scare me for treating you like that…"

"Harley Quinn?" he repeated, puzzled. "Is that why you're dressed up like a clown?"

"Um…yeah," said Harley, slowly. "But I mean…you're the real reason for that, puddin'."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking around strangely as if he had never seen their hideout before. He suddenly caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and let out a cry of horror, rushing over to it.

"Oh my God…what's happened to me?" he gasped, touching his face.

"You had some injuries from the fight, puddin', but nothing serious…" began Harley, reassuringly.

"Nothing serious?" repeated Joker, turning to her in horror. "I look like a clown!"

"Uh…yeah, but you always look like a clown, Mr. J," said Harley. "You're the Joker, so…"

"The Joker?" he repeated. "Who's the Joker?"

"You…are," said Harley, staring at him. "Mr. J…this ain't just some sick joke of yours, is it? You seriously don't remember who you are?"

"I know who I am," he retorted. "What I don't know is who that grinning clown in the mirror is!"

"So…who are you, then?" asked Harley, slowly.

"Jack Napier," replied the Joker. "My name is Jack Napier."