I Don't Suffer From Insanity

Chapter One~ Beginning of Insanity

Arkham Asylum

The cacophony of noise was deafening. Anxiety welled up in the young woman that moved through the halls, clad in a baggy T-shirt, holey jeans, and a pair of old, sturdy black boots, accompanied by a group of guards, clutching an array of notepads and textbooks to her chest. It was nearly choking. How anyone got any sleep in this place, she had no idea. The sheer amount of crazy locked up in this one building was palpable. It was almost as if she could feel it creeping in on her, looking for a way in, along with the calls and whistles that followed her down the hallway. She gulped, trying to breathe through the ball in her throat.

At the end of the hallway, another woman, blonde, hair pulled back in a ponytail and a pair of long, long legs wearing a doctor's coat stood examining something on a clipboard. At the sound of boots, she looked up. "Ah! Right on time! You must be Mira Paloma, nice ta meetcha, honey." She extended a hand to her, a big grin on her face.

"Dr. Quinzel?" She returned the handshake, a little unsteadily as she attempted to balance the books in her arms.

"That's right. So," she looked down at the clipboard again, "You're here to talk to Mistah J...sorry, the Joker, for a class project?"

Mira nodded. "Yeah, uh, college Psychology class, year four. We're studying different kinds of mental illnesses, and are supposed to be writing a paper on them."

"Very cool. And what illness are you writing on?"

"Actually, I'm trying to make a statement on how certain different ones can affect one another. From what I've seen of your work, Dr. Quinzel, this patient shows signs of psychopathy, as well as a possibility of schizophrenia and multiple personalities. Among other things."

The doctor looked taken aback. "Multiple personalities? Well I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps your right, honey. Now, I will warn you that this patient is...well, for lack of better term, he's very good at manipulating people to do what he wants them to, as is evident by the multiple robberies and murders committed in his name. He's also very good at reading people, so I'd do my best to keep my emotions and such under control if I were you."

"You're saying, if given the chance, this man would use my own mind against me to saaaaay...get out of here?"

Dr. Quinzel seemed taken aback for a moment, then nodded, "Exactly. So, whatever he does or says, don't let him get under your skin. He can't do anything to ya here, honey." With that, she smiled again, "Shall we?" Turning, she nodded once to the guard at the door. The man grasped the door in front of them, and pulled with his whole body to open it up.

Mira had been watching the news her whole life, and in all that time, she had only really heard stories of the Joker. Few civilians had ever seen him and lived to tell the tale. She was...surprised. He had been called the Clown Prince of Crime. She didn't expect him to actually look like a clown. Bright green hair. Pale, pale skin. And crazed eyes that lit up when the beautiful doctor walked in the room. Then he spotted her.

"Well, well, well. Doctor, you brought me a new toy!" he giggled, swaying far to the right and nearly falling out of the chair on one side of the table.

"Now, Mistah J, she's not a toy. This here's Mira Paloma. She's a Psychology major out at Arkham University. Her professor wrote her a glowing recommendation for her to come here and talk to some of the patients. She chose you." The two women sat down across from him.

"Is that right?" He cocked his head to the side. "And just what is it that you want to know, little miss Mira?" The dark-haired woman just stared at him, examining him as he rocked back and forth in his seat, waiting for her to say something. "What's the matter, sweet cheeks? Cat got your tongue?" He made as if to bite his tongue off, then pulled it back and started cackling.

She gulped.

Dr. Quinzel broke in. "Well, it's obvious she's a little nervous. I mean, to be fair, who wouldn't be."

"Will you be taking notes?" Joker asked suddenly. When she didn't answer him, he frowned. "Now, now, why so shy?"

Clearing her throat, she took a breath and finally spoke up. "Yes, sir. I will be."

"Ah! She speaks! Ha ha!" Mira looked to be a little uncomfortable, which the Joker picked up on and he grinned. "And here I was beginning to fear you were a mute. Now, tell me, little miss Mira, give me an idea of what you're looking for your paper..." he eyed her up and down, "Might you be looking for the textbook psychopathy that Dr. Quinzel has been so lovely enough to explain that I show? Or-or maybe you'd like to dive into the oh-so apparent daddy issues I possess in this whacked out little head of mine?" His eyes grew wide as he spoke.

"I think, for today, why don't we just allow her to sit in our session. We'll continue as normal." Turning to Mira, she said, "Whenever you feel comfortable enough, don't be afraid to jump in and ask some questions of your own, ok?" Mira bobbed her head affirmative. "Wonderful! Now, Mistah J, at the end of our last session, you were explaining about your little rivalry with the Batman."

"Ah, yes, the Batman." He sighed, rolling his eyes and looking as if he would like nothing more than to pull his hair out. "Why is everyone so obsessed with Batman? Can you answer me that, Doctor? I have no issue with him, if he'd just leave me alone. I have a business to run. So, why, oh, why, must everyone always ask me about the Bat?"

The doctor sat contemplating her answer, but she never got the chance. Mira spoke so quietly, they couldn't even make out what she said. "What was that, Miss Paloma?"

She cleared her throat again. "The same reason everyone is obsessed with you, Mister Joker."

"Please, call me J," he hung his head dramatically. "Mister Joker makes me sound old. And my friends all call me J."

"Friends?" she murmured.

"Friends, business associates, maybe one or two of my men. I don't usually like people calling me anything other than 'boss', but in your case, I'll make an exception. I have a feeling we'll be the best of friends. Now, why don't you elaborate on that fascinating little thing you just said."

Both people looked at her expectantly. Mira shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Well, you're both crazy."

Joker started howling with laughter. "Finally, someone who understands! Batsy is the only person in this little city that is just a crazy as I am. But, my dear, how did you come up with such a thought?"

"Just think about it...he's a grown man that dresses up in a bat costume and runs around the city in the middle of the night, looking for bad guys to fight." She explained. "Only a crazy person would do something like that. Just like only a crazy person would shoot up a bank with armed security guards inside."

"Oh, you wound me." If the man hadn't had a straightjacket on, she had a feeling he would have had both hands clasped over his heart. Then he started laughing again. "But how do you know I'm the crazy one? What about all the people out there that put their trust in these banks that are stealing their money right out from under them. I'm just being honest about it. I wanted that money, so I took it. Then I invest it in my club, or some of my associates. Just good business, you see."

"And what about all the people you've killed?"

Rolling his head back, the Joker sighed. "You're so boring." He leveled Mira with a slack expression. He took a deep breath, then leaned forward again. "Everyone wants to know why I killed people, and the answer will always be the same. Because. I. Could." Mira's cheeks flushed a little. "Ooh, did that strike a nerve, little miss Mira?"

"So, you don't feel any remorse for doing horrible things to innocent people?" She breathed. Dr. Quinzel was sitting back, watching the exchange. This was facinating to her, seeing how her patient interacted to someone other than her.

"I've got a newsflash for ya, honey," he droned, "Those people weren't innocent. No one is. Not a single person in this god-forsaken world is innocent. Tell me, why do babies cry?"

She shrugged. "Because it's the only way they can communicate-"

"Noooo," he huffed. "Why do they cry?"

Confused, she responded. "To let someone know that something is wrong."

Excited, he jumped in his seat. "Exactly! They have no way of taking care of themselves, and someone always needs to do everything for them. The damn things could just be itchy for all we know, and they cry, cry, crycrycry cry! People are born selfish. From the moment they exit the womb, everything is all about them. The world revolves around them. They are the center of the universe."

"Of their universe, maybe. But most people, save for narcissists and delusional psychos, come to realize that they aren't as they get older, right?"

"No, no, no, no, no. You don't understand what I'm saying. From the moment we are born, our one purpose in life it to ascend. Who walks first, talks first, gets the best grades in school, makes the most money, drives the newest car. There is always someone better, and we become jealous. Well, I have made it to the top. I own Gotham City, and I could have anything I ever wanted."

"Except love." Mira said plainly.

"Huh?" Joker confusedly asked.

"The only thing money cannot buy, is real, true love. Friendships and relationships. No one who really cares can be bought."

"Oh, dear..." the green haired man cocked his head at her, then glanced at the doctor before looking back at the student. "You seem to have misunderstood something, dear. I don't love, I don't need it, don't want it. And one cannot love me. I am not a person, but an idea. The idea of chaos within the world. And no one loves chaos. They crave order, strive for it. Those that embrace it are the only ones who are truly free. But, love? No, no, no, no. Love is a weakness. One that I, myself, have used against people. Take someone they love, put them in a dangerous situation that you control, and they will do whatever you want. Go on, ask me how many times I've had one of my men hold a knife or gun to someone's spouse, child, mother, father, beloved friend. Go on."

Mira shook her head. "I'd rather not," she murmured.

Joker burst out into his signature halting laughter. "Probably for the best, little miss Mira. Wouldn't want you to think I was an incurable mental patient."

"Well!" Dr. Quinzel jumped in, "J, I think you made great progress today. You've admitted to doing bad things, and knowing that they were bad. And," she clapped a bit excitedly, "You have spoken to your first civilian without harming them."

Mira narrowed her eyes at the woman, examining her as she continued praising the clown for his progress in their therapy. There was something...off. A sparkle in the woman's eyes, the way she leaned in when he spoke, listening more intently than any shrink she'd ever seen. It was as if he had a spell over her.

)0(

"Well, I think that went very well. You did a wonderful job of steering the conversation with him." The doctor said once the door was closed and they were making their way back to her office in a safer portion of the building.

"Really? I thought I'd rather lost control of the situation around the time he started asking me about babies."

"Oh, don't let him scare ya, honey. He's nothin' but a big softy once ya get to know him. And he's incrediblely cooperative with his therapy. Most of my patients purposely try to go roundabouts to confuse me and misdiagnose them so that they'll be released early."

"Does it ever work?"

"Mmh, once. A young man who was in for several counts of third-degree murder. After talking to him, they court psychyatrist had him sent here for treatment and detainment, saying that he should never be let back out into society." She stopped in the middle of the hall, eyes far away.

"And what happened?"

Snapping back to present, she shook her head and continued towards her office. "He tricked me into feeling sorry for him. He made himself out to be a victim of the system and convinced me to have him released after only six months out of his four life sentences. He was later found, covered in the blood of another victim, cutting his wrists to keep from being taken by police again. Luckily for him, doctors were able to save him and he was brought back to the asylum. He's been here ever since and he'll be here til he dies."

)0(

Mira's phone rang as she was attempting to unhook her keys from the outside of her bag. She hadn't had a chance to check her phone since she'd left Arkham, as she had been ordered to leave it at the front desk with the rest of her personal belongings, so that no patients got ahold of it in any way. Quickly shifting her books to her other arm, she dug her phone out of her back pocket. Yeah, it wasn't the best place to keep it in the streets of Gotham, but she had been in a rush and just shoved it there. She groaned when she saw the name pop up on the screen.

Putting the phone between her ear and her shoulder, she once again shifted the books to her left arm so she could unhook the key to her apartment as she walked up the stairs. "Hey, Mom. Sorry, I know I was supposed to call sooner, but something came up."

"And what could have possibly come up that would keep you from calling your mother?"

With a sigh, she shoved the key into the lock and turned. "I got accepted into the program."

"What program?" Leanna Paloma had always been a suspicious woman. It had kept her alive in Gotham City for a very long time. Through her first marriage, which had ended with the man dead in an altercation with warring mafiosos. Her second marriage... well, she just liked to say that there was nothing on this earth that would keep her from protecting her kids. Not even a drunkard with a gun.

"I told you, Mom, three weeks ago." Her mother's memory wasn't the best, the result of years of depression and stress. "My professor recommended me for the program to interview mental patients. I was the only one that got in."

"Really?! That's great, honey! Are you interviewing multiple people?"

As Mira walked in to her tiny one room apartment, she made a face. She was going to regret this. "No, just one. Um," she scratched at her eyebrow after she sat her bag and books on the coffee table, "I'm doing my paper on the Joker."

There was silence on the other end of the line. Mira braced for it, holding the phone away from her ear.

"ARE YOU UTTERLY INSANE?!" Even with the phone held away, she still flinched at the sound.

"Mom, it's not as bad as it sounds."

"Not as bad as it sounds? And how exactly does it sound, Mira Analise? Because to me it sounds like you're going to be in the same room with the most dangerous man in Gotham! Not even a man, a damn crime-lord, scumbag clown! He's literally certifiably insane!"

"Yes, Mom, I am well aware of that. That's the whole reason I chose him."

"Chose him? You chose that psychopath?! I thought you had been assigned to him."

Grimacing at the anger in her mother's voice. "Mom, listen. I am probably safer in that nuthouse than I am out of the streets of this city. At least in there, I have armed guards to protect me and watch his every move. Besides, the guy is in a straightjacket at all times, he can't physically do anything to me, and I'm too smart to let him in my head."

"Don't ever say that!" Her mother snapped. "You may be the smartest girl I've ever met, hon, but you are as naïve as the day you were born. Kids like you are the ones that memorialize people like Batman and Superman. All the while they are causing more harm than good. You get too caught up in your own smarts, and one day that's going to get you in trouble. Bad trouble."

Rolling her eyes, she spoke up. "Mom, I know. I'm being careful. Like I said, there are armed guards at every door, and it's not like I'm in there alone. Dr. Quinzel is in there, too. She's his attending psychiatrist. Don't worry, Mom. I'll be ok. Anyway, I'm still coming up to visit next weekend. I've cleared it with my job and all I have to do is go to the hospital that Friday morning. Other than that, I'm scot free all weekend."

She could hear the deep sigh from the woman on the other end of the phone. "Fine. Fine. There's no talking sense into you. You've always been bullheaded, and I don't know why I expected that to end now."

"Yes, Mother. I have to go, got homework to catch up on. I love you."

"I love you, too, darling. Be careful."

She didn't say anything else as she pulled the phone away from her ear and ended the call. Throwing the device on her bed, she passed her hand over her face as she trudged to the kitchen to make some ramen. Ah, the perks of being a broke college student.

)0(

It would be several more sessions over the course of weeks before Mira realized what it was. And it came to her in the middle of listening to Joker speak of his past as he lay on the stereotypical therapy couch.

Her eyes widened.

Harleen Quinzel was in love with the Joker, the craziest person alive, the king of criminals in Gotham City.

But he was not in love with her.

)0(

A/N: So, don't hate me for starting another story. I had a dream about this one and it's been stuck in my head for the last week. I had to get it out before I went crazy.

Love it, hate it? Let me know.

AcaciaDawn