Cured

"Harley, this is unexpected," said Dr. Leland. "We already have a session scheduled for Monday, don't we?"

"Yeah, but I needed to talk to you now, Joan," said Harley Quinn. She sat on the sofa, staring at her hands, her big, blue eyes focused on some point on the ground. She was clearly thinking hard about something.

"Well, that's what I'm here for," replied Dr. Leland, picking up her notepad and pen.

Harley looked up at her. "I wanted to ask if I'm still an accredited psychiatrist," she said.

Dr. Leland stared at her. That wasn't at all what she'd been expecting. "Um…well, you're still qualified as a psychiatrist, of course," she said, slowly. "But considering at the moment you're not quite in your right mind, I doubt you would be allowed to practice psychiatry again until you've rehabilitated yourself."

Harley sighed heavily. "I thought you'd say that," she murmured. "But that's gonna take ages."

"If you're willing to put in the effort, Harley, I know it will be worth your time…" began Dr. Leland.

"Nah, you don't understand, Joan," she murmured. "Even if I do it in a couple months, it still seems too long. I wanna have my position back now."

"Well…I'm afraid that's just not possible, Harley," said Dr. Leland, slowly. "Why the hurry?"

Harley was silent. "I'll be honest with you, Joan," she murmured. "Lately I've just felt that old clock a ticking, and I realized that life is short. And I got dreams and ambitions that just ain't gonna be fulfilled as long as I'm stuck here in Arkham as a homicidal lunatic. But there's something that's keeping me crazy here."

"The Joker," said Dr. Leland, nodding. "Well, y'know, Harley, cutting him out of your life would be the first step on your road to recovery. You don't need him to be happy…"

"Joan, don't be stupid, of course I do," interrupted Harley. "See, that's the thing. If I rehabilitated myself, I'd have to live without Mr. J, and obviously that's outta the question. So there's only one solution to my problem."

Dr. Leland looked at her. "Which is?"

Harley looked back at her. "Well, it's obvious, isn't it? I gotta cure Mr. J."

"Cure…the Joker?" said Dr. Leland, slowly.

"Sure," she replied, shrugging. "If anyone can do it, it's me. I know more about him than anyone else in the world, and I'm a pretty darn good shrink, if I do say so myself. If you'd just give us permission to have a few sessions together, just like we used to, I'm sure I could rehabilitate him."

"Rehabilitate…the Joker?" stammered Dr. Leland. "Harley, do you have any idea how many people have tried and failed…"

"Yeah, but they don't know him like I do," interrupted Harley. "And we love each other, that's gotta help. True love's the most powerful thing in the world, am I right? It'll cure Mr. J. He'll cure himself for me if I want it. He loves me, really."

Dr. Leland stared at her. Of course Harley was crazy, so she shouldn't be surprised at the insanity that came out of her mouth. But this just seemed crazier than usual, even for her. "So…you want my permission for you to analyze the Joker as a professional psychiatrist?" she asked.

"Yeah. You gave it to me before..."

"And look how that turned out," retorted Dr. Leland.

"If it would make you feel better, you could have cameras in the room or something," said Harley. "Y'know, just to make sure we're not getting up to any hanky-panky, like last time. I promise you, Joan, we'll be nothing but professional. I'm tired of the jokes and the games. There comes a time when a gal wants more. And now all this gal wants is to settle down with her loving sweetheart."

Harley looked completely sincere, and Dr. Leland believed her. But she couldn't believe that the Joker would agree to this, or be willing to change just because Harley wanted him to. But then again, what harm could it do? If it didn't work, they would be no worse off than when they'd started. But if it did…but it couldn't. Nothing could cure the Joker. Dr. Leland wasn't even going to get her hopes up anymore.

"Well, I don't see any reason to object," she replied. "As long as we can have cameras in the room, and as long as after your sessions, you return to your cells."

"Sure, Joan, we can do that," said Harley, beaming. "Aw, thanks, you're just the greatest! I know I can cure him, just you wait and see! Soon they'll be no more model citizen than my Mr. J."

"Forgive me if I don't hold my breath," retorted Dr. Leland.

"Can we do it tomorrow? Will you be able to get cameras set up by then?" asked Harley.

"I'll try," replied Dr. Leland.

"You won't regret this, Joan, really," said Harley. "And I'll owe you forever. When me and Mr. J have kids, I'll name the girl Joan after you, how about that?"

"That's very flattering, Harley," replied Dr. Leland, secretly horrified at the idea of them ever having kids.

"Well, guess I'll see you tomorrow, then," said Harley, beaming happily and standing up. "Thanks a million, Joan. You're the best psychiatrist I've ever had."

"Thanks, Harley," she replied. But as Harley skipped out of the room, Dr. Leland began to question her own sanity. Maybe it wasn't a great idea to get Harley's hopes up like this, only to have them dashed when the Joker couldn't be rehabilitated. But unless she tried, Harley wouldn't be convinced of the impossibility of curing him. She had to do this, even though Dr. Leland knew it was a completely futile effort. There was no way to cure the Joker.