Chapter 18

I sit down in a small chair in a dark, empty room, pen and clipboard in hand. A blonde woman is wheeled in on an upright platform, strapped in a straitjacket. Two handlers set the platform down, leaving her strapped upright, before leaving the room and closing the door,

"So...you're Dr. K, right?" she asks, her chirpy, pip-squeaked voice asking.

I nod, "Yes, that would be me. And I assume you're Ms. Harleen Quinzel-"

"I'll say it once, I'll say it again, call me Harley, everyone does." she states in a uniform, rehearsed manner.

I'll take up on her offer, giving off a more friendly vibe by calling her by her preferred name, "Alright Harley, let's start our first session with some backgrou-"

"Can it Trix, that's not why I'm here to talk."

I practically jump, dropping my pen and letting it fall to the ground, bouncing off of the tile floor. So she does know. I cross my legs, and narrow my eyes, staring at her intently, "Okay then, what do you want to talk about?"

"Why, about you and Cobblepot, what else?"

I sigh, "Ozzy and I are done. We both agreed to close that door-"

"Really Trix? Is that really it? You're just gonna let it end...just like that?" she asks, tears welling up in her eyes, "I...I was honestly rootin for the two of you."

I pick up my pen, and begin jotting notes down on my clipboard, "Harley, my romantic affairs are none of your business-"

"Hey, I'm just trying to help you here." she defends.

"I'm here to help you, Harley."

She rolls her eyes, "How could you? How could you help me when you can't even see a good thing if it kidnaps you and then treats you like a queen." she sighs, "If Mister J were ever to do that to me...boy would I repay him…"

"But he wouldn't...would he?" I bring up.

"That's what I'm saying. You had a good thing going on with Cobblepot. And if I can fall for an absolute lunnie who treats me like dirt, you must feel something for him after all he's done for you, right? I mean, you kept his mother's ring, and I know you're not going to throw out that old picture he gave you-"

I squint, "Harley...how do you know all this? Did Ozzy put you up to this?"

She shrugs to the extent that the straitjacket will let her, "He came to me after your first breakup. Guess he figured we had something in common, and the poor sap had no one else to turn to, and those two sluts he started keeping around were no help. So yeah, I consoled him, and we've kept in touch ever since, even offered him some pity sex once or twice, but he declined." she smiles warmly, "Now that's devotion, and you're not even that much of a looker-"

"Your point?"

She clears her throat, "All I'm saying is, reexamine your choices. I know you've got this stuck up sense of justice, but it's killing you from the inside, can't you see? You're miserable."

I'd never really thought about that. Am I happy, doing what I do? My immediate answer would be yes, but closer examination would say otherwise. No, I'm letting a patient get under my skin, this session should be about her, but it's becoming clear this isn't really a session at all.

"Harley...are you happy with your choices?" I ask her.

She nods, "No regrets, whatsoever. That's because I follow my heart, and my heart tells me Mister J is the one for me. Sure there are the occasional bumps in the road...okay, maybe more than a couple, but that's the chance you take when you're dating a nutso, am I right?"

"And, since you have acknowledged that the Joker is insane, why do you continue to follow him?"

"Well, see, that's the thing. We've been spending more time apart lately. And that can be good too, you know? But in the end, we always find each other again, and everything goes back to just the way it use to be." she explains, "But, that's me and Mister J. You and Cobblepot on the other hand...well, he hasn't trusted you since you first left him. So when he got his fat hands on you, you bet he was going to do anything to keep you there."

I look up at the clock. The session's over, and I'm not going to be getting anywhere with her anyway, "Alright Harley, our time's up. Will I be seeing you next week?"

"Oh, definitely Trix, you need help, and I'm here to give it." she declares boldly.

I nod slowly, "Uhuh."

I open the door, allowing her handlers to come back in and haul her away. I follow behind, walking into the recording room where Mr. Nigma is already waiting for me,

"Mr. Nigma, would you please give me the audio tape for this session with Mr. Quinzel?"

He smiles knowingly, "...what tape?"

I smell burning plastic, and I look into the nearby wastebin to see a melting audio tape sitting among in the garbage. I return his mischievous smile, so we agree.

I ride the elevator back up to the main courtyard with Mr. Nigma, his smile withstanding through the entire ride.

"Doctor, your first name is Natalie, correct?" he asks.

I nod, "Yes, why?"

His smile grows wider, and he taps his pen on his sharp chin, "That's a lovely name. One...one I know I've heard before. But where? Oh, I need to answer this question…"

"Oh, I have no idea what you're talking about." I reply sarcastically.

"Are you mocking me?" he accuses, shocked.

I chuckle, "Perhaps."

His eyebrows pop, realizing something, "Oh yes, this came for you in the mail." he reaches into his lab coat pocket and pulls out a standard white envelope. I take it, looking at him suspiciously,

"This isn't going to blow up in my face I hope."

He flexes the leather on his gloves, "...only if you want it to."

Rolling my eyes, I open the letter, holding the envelope at a distance, and to my surprise, nothing happens upon its unsealing. Unfolding the letter within, I immediately recognize the cursive handwriting,

Dear Trixie,

I know I promised to leave you alone, but I just couldn't, you know me. I can't get you out of my mind, and I fear this torture will never end. So it brings me release in knowing you'll get this letter, I know you will, Eddie gets a bullet in the head if you don't. While I do hope you write me back, tell me how things are with you, something tells me you're going to chuck my letter into the fire without a second glance. You've always pursued your own freedom, and I should recognize that. But there's still a burning feeling inside, something telling me that this isn't how our story should end. I'm lonely without you my love.

Love,

Ozzy

I look over at Mr. Nigma who's looking over my shoulder, reading along. He smirks gleefully,

"Tell me, which path did the crazy man take out of the woods?"

I roll my eyes, "The psychopath. C'mon, I'm a psychiatrist, I've heard that one before."

He sighs, "When will I find a riddle that you haven't heard?"

And now it's my turn to smile knowingly, "When you come up with some new material."

I return to my room at Arkham Manor. I have about a twenty minute break until before I have to see my next patient. That should be just enough time.

I pick up the picture Ozzy gave me and find a small frame for it in my dresser. Placing it on the small desk by my bed, I sit down at the desk, getting out a fresh sheet of paper and a pen.

Dear Ozzy...