Harley Quinn + Joker OneShots

Interrogation

My clothes have been exchanged to prison garb before I even entered the walls of Arkham Asylum. However, there were some slight issues for me to actually get in Arkham. Apparently, Commissioner Gordy wanted to have a word with me before my red carpet arrival at Arkham. Long story short, I'm currently in one of the interrogation rooms at the GCPD Police Station. The room is pretty dark, except for a lone light that shines brightly in my face. The table I'm sitting at is relatively small and the chair I'm sitting in is beyond uncomfortable. The handcuffs are a bit irritating. I mean they're not overly tight, but if you ask me, they seem highly unnecessary. There's not much in the room for me to gaze at, so my focus is on my hands that are bounded together and neatly resting on my lap.
'Gordy better hurry up....'  
As if on cue, the door creaks up and footsteps follow in an orderly fashion. I don't bother to look up. I don't want to look up. See, believe it or not, I've been in this situation before. And let me tell ya, it's the same damn thing every single time. It's pointless really. They're only going to ask about....Him. I mean why wouldn't they? That's all they care about.
My eyes finally glance up at the figure hovering over me from the other side of the table. My eyebrows furrowed.
"I thought good ole' Gordy was gonna interrogate me?"
"He's spending time with his family at the moment", Bats spoke.
My eyes brightened and the facade came to life,"Aww, so because Gordy has a family to see, you got stuck doing the job for him 'cause ya don't have one for an excuse not ta come."
"You'd be surprised", he says at he finally takes a seat.
I smirk and tilt my head slightly,"Try me."
His expression remains cold,"We don't have time for games Quinn."
"Whatever", I mumble quietly as I look back down at my handcuffs.
After a moment of silence, he speaks, "Do you have any idea where Joker is? Anything about his whereabouts?"
I don't respond.
"Quinn?"
I don't look up.
"Harls...?"
I almost laugh. He can't honestly believe I'll fall for that, right? I mean he's just trying to "appeal" to me more just to get information. Even if I wasn't a former psychiatrist, I would have saw right through that anyways. He's desperate. It's obvious. He might as well just started pleading and begging right then and there.
My eyes flicker back up and I raise my hands up.
My head gestures towards the handcuffs,"Are.....Are these really necessary?"
His eyes narrowed, "Yes."
"Really?" My hands drop back to resting into my lap.
"Yes. You're a criminal and you will be treated as such, so yes, that involves wearing handcuffs. And let's face it Quinn, you're not exactly trustworthy."
I drop the handcuffs and they clank loudly as they hit the table, "What were you saying Bats?"
He sighed silently as I rubbed my wrists, happy to be free of those stupid things, "Much better."
"Now will you cooperate?"
I roll my eyes, "Why?"
"Don't be difficult Quinn."
"Why is there only one light?"
"What?"
"I mean there's only one light in this whole room? And it just happens to be directly positioned right in my face? I mean I know you're all about darkness and it being you're only friend and all, but this just seems a little too tacky and cliche."
"Quinn!"
"Just saying", I raise my hands in defense, then shrug.
He sighs and mumbles to himself, "Why do you do this Harley?"
I act like I don't hear. Maybe it's because I simply don't want to hear it or I don't want to play more games. I don't know the reason, maybe there isn't one. Who knows?
"Harley?"
Whoops, I spaced off a little.
I look back towards him,"Yes?" I say meekly.
"People are going to die Harley. I need to know. I need you to tell me what you know."
"I-I don't know anything."
"Harley," he pushes.
"No, NO, seriously. I-I don't know anything."
He looks at me to continue and better explain myself.
I continue,"I haven't seen Mis- Him f-for six months."
He stays silent. He doesn't believe me.
"I-I swear!"
He looks unconvinced.
I sigh in defeat as I look down.
"I guess you're gonna take me back to Arkham, huh?"
"You don't sound too enthusiastic about that."
I mumble back," No..not really."
"If you tell me the truth Harley, I won't make you go back there."
"But that is the truth!"
He goes silent again and I groan in frustration.
"Why won't you believe me?!"
He doesn't reply and my anger grows.
"Yeah, sure, I lie sometimes, but I'm not this time! You of all people should know that Bats! Why won't you believe me?"
"Because it's you Quinn."
I sigh sadly and look back down. I guess I would be on the brink of tears about now if I actually had the energy for it......or less of an ego admittedly.
"I want to believe you, but I just-"
"You just what, huh?! Why don't you trust me?? I mean I guess I know why. I know I'm not exactly trustworthy and I'm a criminal and all, but if that's the case, then why was I brought here in the first place? You wanted answers and you turned to me for them. I can't help you, but that's the honest truth."
"Harley I-"
"Just forget it", I pause and look away from him. "I know what you're going to say", I say softly with a hint of defeat in my voice.
A silence infected the room. It seemed to last an eternity. I refused to look at him. I couldn't look at him. In the moment, I was weak. I knew that. The thing is, he doesn't need to know that. I don't want his pity. He already pities me. I'm unsure as to why though, but it annoys me. I don't need his pity. Hell, I don't need his sympathy either. I'm not weak. I'm not weak. No matter how many times I tell myself that, I know it isn't true. When everyone underestimates you, you start to believe their views more than your prior notions about yourself. It's like a virus. It can't be stopped. It consumes you and becomes you. I've always been weak. They all think I'm weak. And if they all think so, then it has to be true....right? I'm not sure anymore. I'm not sure of anything anymore.
"Harley...?"
I don't look. I can't look.
"Quinn", he says sternly.
I don't look. I can't look. I won't look.
"Quinn", he says more forcefully.
I don't look. I can't look. I won't look. I don't want to look.
"Quinn, look at me!"
I don't look. I can't look. I won't look.
"Quinn, I'm warning you!"
I don't look. I can't look. I won't look. I repeat to myself over and over again.
Suddenly, he stands up in a huff causing the chair to knock over. I flinch as it hits the ground, but still refuse to look his way. Footsteps follow. They aren't orderly and formal like before. Now they're taunting and menacing. I want to close my eyes, but I can't. I don't have the will to. I know what's coming and I can't hide from it, even if I tried, so there's no point in trying. He rushes to my side and yanks me up by my collar. I gulp and try to still look away. He doesn't like that. Oh no, I made it worse. I know I made it worse. I always make things work.
"Look at me!!!"
I'm too scared to look. I'm frozen. I can't move even if I tried. I feel my skin pale as I see his fist start to raise in the air.
I quickly raise my arms up and shield my face.
"P-Please don't h-hurt me! I-I'm s-sorry! It's m-my fault. It-it's my f-fau-fault. D-don't hit me. P-Please. I'm s-sorry," I say shakily.
At first his expression is angry, but it starts to soften. He slowly lowers his fist and gently lowers me back down to the ground.
He looks away as though he were ashamed,"Im sorry", he says softly.
I calm down and look at him with a gentle expression,"Sorry for what?"
"I....I shouldn't have-"
I interrupt,"No, no....you....you had every right to. I mean I'm a c-criminal and I wasn't cooperating and it's your job aft-"
He interrupts me,"No, it's.....it's different. You're...different", he says in almost a whisper.
I look at him slightly puzzled,"Different? How...how am I-"
He interrupts again,"You just are Harley."
"Bats?"
"What?"
I bite my lip slightly as I hesitate whether or not to ask or not,"Why....why do you call me Quinn, but....but other times call me Harley, or even Harls?"
His head turns towards me and our eyes meet,"Because you're different from the others."
"Different from who?"
"From the other criminals", he says sternly, but not in a frightening way like before.
"H-how am I different from other criminals?"
"Because you're you. I know you Harley. You're different from them."
"But that still doesn't answer my question."
He sighs softly and closes his eyes for a moment,"Criminals are all the same. At least they're suppose to be. I try not to call you Harley because when I call you Harley.....I think of all the pain you have went through and how human you can be and how Harleen is still somewhere in there. That's why I call you Quinn more. Harley is your nickname, but Quinn is your alter ego, it's the criminal. It's easier to talk to Quinn, the sidekick of The Joker than Harley, the one that's more...human....the one I couldn't save."
"What do you mean by 'couldn't save'?"
He looks at me with a hint of sadness,"I couldn't save you from Joker. No matter what I did or how hard I tried, I couldn't do it. Not finding a way to save you is one of my deepest regrets Harley. It wouldn't have been so bad if you really did die and Quinn was all that was left, but you didn't. The old you, the real you is still in there."
"This is the real me though."
"It's a facade Harley."
"No it's not!"
"Harley!"
I shut my mouth quickly, afraid I'll say the wrong thing....again.
He calms down again,"It's like you're two different people. Harley Quinn and Harleen Quinzel."
"I'm not Harleen", I mumble.
"What was that?"
"I said I'm not Harleen!"
Tears started to form in my eyes. I was losing it.
"Then who are you?!?"
I'm taken back.
"Who are you then if you're not Harleen?!"
"I'm Harley", I say softly.
"Speak. Up."
"I'm Harley!"
"No you're not!"
"Yes I am!"
I couldn't control the tears that continued to stream down my face. Whatever this new "tactic" this was, it was working.
"Then why aren't you with Joker?? Why aren't you two still together, huh?! Why do you say Him instead of one of your stupid pet names for him?? Why is it?! Tell me the reason!"
"I don't know!"
"That's bullshit!"
"I said I don't know!"
"Is there anything that you actually know, or is it just hallow up in there?!"
"Shut up!", I try to punch him, but he catches my hand easily and grips it tightly, so I won't dare try again.
I look down as I start crying more and more. He leans closer to my face and stares directly into my eyes.
"I-I hate you", I spat at him.
"Prove it."
I glare back and stay silent.
"That's what I thought", he says as he leans back and lets my hand drop.
He starts walking away from me when I speak up, "You're just like Him."
He turns around,"What was that?"
"I said you're just like him."
He makes his way back to where I'm standing and glares down at me,"You have no idea what you're talking about."
I laugh bitterly,"Don't I?"
He doesn't respond.
The facade comes back into play and I am in control,"Oh come on Bats, ya don't honestly think that I have no idea whatsoever what I'm talking about. Just like you, I'm an expert on Him. The only difference is I know more about Him than you ever will."
His expression is cold and almost unreadable. Almost.
I glare at him,"You don't care. You don't care at all about me. I know ya don't! Why would you, huh? You were just trying to trick me into thinking you actually cared about me. You tried to mess with my head and try to get under my skin, but newsflash Mistah, it's not gonna work. You know why?"
He stays silent.
I lean in close and a small smirk appears on my face,"Because you're just like Him. I know you. I know your tricks. And I won't let you break me. No, not ever again."
His eyes narrow and he starts his way back to the door.
"Guess I'm not the only one that appears to have two personalities."
He pauses while opening the door. He's fighting not to look back, but it's pointless. He takes a small glance back before quietly leaving the room.
"I am not weak."