Chapter Text
And here she is, being escorted by two police officers in handcuffs once again. She would always say that you didn’t have fun if you weren't arrested by the end of the night. But this wasn’t just some stupid arrest for graffiti, or robbery, etc. She’s been found guilty of murder, and she’s going to Arkham.
Harley never really knew how to behave. Well, Red couldn’t. Harley was ‘split in half’ you could say. She had diagnosed herself with ‘split personality disorder’ in her early teens. Now there’s two of her, Red and Blue.
Most people with this disorder can live a healthy life with just a little help. They aren’t crazy. They’re just misunderstood people, given a bad representation by the media. Not her though. Red is crazy. No doubt about that. And Blue has to live with it. Which sucks.
Red is a chaotic character, constantly wanting to do something spontaneous. Anarchy is her religion, and violence her Bible. She always got in trouble at school, for many, many reasons. Whether it was back-talking her teacher, never doing work, cheating when doing work, harassing peers, you get the idea. She’s almost obsessive over getting what she wants.
Blue is well…the complete opposite. Bookworm, nerd, were things she would get called on the regular. She reads the situation in the worst ways possible, the pessimist inside her an insomniac. She’s very quiet, and prefers being alone rather than being with anyone else. This leads to her almost never having the ‘driver’s seat’ in the body, giving Red practically free reign.
Unfortunately for Blue, Red recently gained a partner in crime for her mischief. Jerome Valeska. The other person being escorted to Arkham with her. Jerome definitely wasn’t always her partner in crime, let alone her boyfriend. Her winning him over is another story for another day. Right now she’s more focused on being transported to her brand new home. Arkham Asylum.
Let’s rewind an hour earlier first, before we go there.
Jerome and Harley have been summoned back to the GCPD, for further information on his mother’s unexpected murder. She opens the door to the interrogation room to see detective Jim Gordon, Doctor Lee Thompkins from the police department, and Mr. Cicero from the Circus they both work at.
“Hi Jerome. Harley. Please take a seat.” Gordon pulls out two empty metal chairs next to the blind fortune teller. Harley sits in the middle between them, and smiles up at the detective politely, keeping her facade. As an acrobat who performed frequently in the circus, she knows how to put on a show. Men always seem to want that.
“Detective…” She mutters and gently places her hands on her lap to appear calm. On the inside she figures she’s probably here because they think Jerome did it. Which may be right but hopefully they can talk their way out of it.
“You two know Mr. Cicero from the show.” Officer Gordon asks, clarifying. He already knows the answer, the question is just a polite formality.
“Yes sir.” Jerome says and nods. “Hello, Mr. Cicero.” He greets the older man. Everyone in the circus knew one another, whether or not it was in a positive or negative light is what made the difference. The circus is just one big toxic family when it comes down to it.
“Good evening Jerome. Harley.” Mr. Cicero replies. Gordon has a seat across the metal table from the three. Harley idly finds the security camera up in the corner of the room. She stares directly at it for a split second, before quickly turning away. She didn’t want to make herself seem creepy or something. That’s the last thing she needs on her record if she wants to remain innocent.
“Do you know why you’re here?” Gordon questions, still with a neutral tone to his voice. He folds his hands and leans forward, subtly pressuring for an answer.
“Did you find out who killed my mother?” Jerome eagerly asks.
“You killed your mother, Jerome.” Gordon quickly answers. A tension spreads across the room. His demeanor clicks in an instant to a more grim one. There’s a pause.
“Me?” Jerome says in a small offended voice. He gestures a hand to himself and glances at the other people in the room, astonished by the response. Oh shit…, Harley thinks to herself. I don’t know how we can get outta this one.
“This is a joke right?” Harley questions and nervously laughs a little. The stress builds.
“I’m afraid not. You killed her up on that hill, and Mr. Cicero let you clean up in his trailer. He told you to scratch the Satanist stuff on the hatchet and throw it off the bridge.” The detective explains. There’s no emotion in his explanation, he just blatantly states his facts. However this does show his cards to Harley, his play. So we’re going for a bold approach are we? She thinks. You’re Mr. Full of Yourself……
“Sir, that’s absurd and-and offensive.” Jerome stutters, trying to grab at whatever ground he had left. Harley knows that they have little time left before this whole thing is blown open.
“But it’s the truth. Now there are still two things I’m trying to figure out. Number one if your girlfriend, Harley, is involved at all.” Gordon makes eye contact with the teenage girl across from him. She acts confused. “And number two, why this man risked so much to help you. For the second question, I think he’s your father.” He proposes.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jerome scoffs, he ignores the first question. “My father was a sea captain.” Gordon looks back to Doctor Thompkins behind him.
“Am I wrong, Mr. Cicero?” He asks, ignoring Jerome’s statement. Before the old man can reply, Jerome does. He leans forward, but unlike Gordon, when he does it the officer should be scared.
“Yes, my father was a sea captain. His name was Sven Karlsen. He died at sea.” He reassures Jim. Harley doesn’t see this ending well, but she appreciates the commitment and effort Jerome is putting in. She had told him before this that if it went south, best to keep denying it and stick to the story as long as possible.
“What was the name of his ship?” Jim asks. That’s a question that they hadn’t rehearsed.
“He worked on a lot of different ships.” Jerome shrugs, hoping they can just go onto something him and Harley had practiced instead. He knew he couldn’t make a name up or otherwise they could look it up and quickly find it to be a lie.
“The one he went down in.” Gordon demands more of an answer. There’s another pause.
“She never said.” Jerome quietly admits and moves his eyes to the metal table, away from the pressing gaze of the detective across from him.
“We can do a blood test to prove I’m right. Takes only half an hour to get a result. Isn’t that right, Dr. Thompkins?” The officer turns back to the doctor again. She raises an eyebrow realizing she’s being spoken to for the first time here. She places her hands to the sides of her white coat.
“Yes.” She nods her head, and only uses one word.
“Save yourself a needle.” Gordon’s trying to get the confession out of us. Harley thinks of all the techniques she educated herself on when it came to interrogation. One of them included trying to have the criminal weigh their options, so much to the point that they’ll think confessing and being honest will help them. Won’t fucking work on me…but it would be fun though….to see the fear in Gordan’s eyes……
“I do hate needles.” Mr. Cicero speaks up, breaking his silence. Jerome turns his attention to him. “I’m sorry, Jerome.” The old man apologizes. Jerome's face falls to an expression of disbelief. He almost seems upset.
“What are you talking about?” He manages to say something.
“He’s right. I am your father.” Harley shifts in her seat, uncomfortable in the awkward situation. Sure, Jerome wasn’t actually this distraught about the news, but she knew he had no idea that was his father. She didn’t know herself, and she assumes neither did Jerome.
“No, you’re not. Why would you say that?” Jerome gets himself to sound like he’s on the verge of tears.
“You must have suspected the truth.”
“You’re not my father. Mother would never-“ He gets cut off.
“Your mother was a cruel woman. She was often unkind to me, but she did once love me, in her way. And she loved you very much. That’s why she gave you a better father.” Mr. Cicero swears. Harley can’t help it. This performance has gone on too long. She lets a giggle escape her mouth. Loved him my ass…..
“Oops….” She quietly mutters. Jerome begins to start laughing hysterically at Harley’s slip up in character, and at Mr. Cicero’s comment. Jim tilts his head, surprised by the entire shift in tone. Jerome leans in front of Harley to his father.
“My mother was a cold-hearted whore who never loved anyone.” He says darkly. “And she’d never touch a pathetic creep like you.”
“She did have standards.” Harley adds with a side smirk.
“All these years, do you think I was kind to you because I’m such a good man? If I wasn’t your father, would I help you as I have after what you did?” Harley nods pleased with the explanation. It didn’t really make sense on why some random old man they worked with would help them cover up murder. Jerome glances back to Jim.
“My father, hmmm….. I’ll be damned.” He says in a casual way. “Oh, that’s very funny.” He laughs, and then makes a fake drum roll, like he’s telling a joke. “Looks like the bitch got me with a zinger in the end.”
“I told you we shouldn’t have used the old man’s help!” Harley says shifting to a slightly higher pitched voice, fully breaking out of character.
“Why did you kill your mother, Jerome?” Gordon interrupts, his character cold.
“Well, it was Harley’s idea….” He answers. Harley gives a small fake bow, and he continues. “But, you know how mothers are. She just, kept, pushing. And I’m like, ‘Fine, Mom. Be a whore. Be a drunken whore even. But don’t be a nagging, drunken whore.’ You know? Don’t come tell me to do the dishes….IF YOU’VE BEEN BANGING A CLOWN IN THE NEXT ROOM!” He screams then lowers his voice. “You know?” He cackles again. Harley decides to join the conversation.
“Did the same thing to my father years ago…. I was fourteen at the time. I decided I didn’t want to be put in human trafficking for booze money anymore. So, I blew that trailer to kingdom come! It was a beautiful sight really, Blue hated the fact we didn’t have a place to sleep anymore-“ She explains but is interrupted.
“Who’s Blue?” Gordon cuts her off with a very important question. One that Blue wasn’t even entirely sure of the answer to herself. Red brushes it off, not realizing his ignorance.
“The other me.” He just squints confused, not anymore in the know than he was before the reply. “Oh, right, you don’t know-“ She realizes.
“Know what?” Gordon asks. Jerome rolls his eyes, knowing that telling the officer what she meant would take a while. As much as Jerome was there to support her in her mental health struggles, he got tired of her having to explain it to everyone all the time.
“I got a couple people living up in here.” She points to her head and smirks, raising her eyebrows. The doctor in the corner of the room perks up. She must have gotten tired of not being useful and just watching this all go down.
“D.I.D.” Lee steps forward to the metal table. “You have D.I.D.?”
“Something like that. Maybe. Maybe not. Probably a lot of other things too.” Harley jokes with a wink.
“Officers,” Gordon calls to the two policemen outside the interrogation room. They both step in the concrete room. “Please escort Jerome and Mr. Cicero to a holding cell. I’ll figure out exactly what to do with them in a few minutes.” Mr. Cicero slowly gets up from his chair and an officer just follows closely behind. Jerome is violently put into handcuffs, and is dragged to the door.
“Wait!” Harley cries. Jerome turns his head back to her. “I love you.” She says quietly with a smug grin, in sharp contrast to her dramatic whiny cry. He smiles back to her, but before he can say anything he’s taken outside the room. Harley swings her legs back and forth in the chair immaturely. Lee has a seat next to her.
“Harley, do you think we could talk to Blue?” She politely asks, staring intensely at the restless girl in front of her.
“Why? She’s a killjoy. Never have any fun.” Harley groans disappointed by where this was going.
“Please?” Lee politely insists. Harley sighs disappointed.
“Fine……” She stares at the metal table for a few minutes completely silent. Gordon looks at Lee confused and scared about what was happening. After the minutes of silence, she glances around the room rapidly until her gaze lands on Lee.
“Where am I? Oh god, you’re Jim Gordon.” Harley glances back to the detective. “You’re a homicide detective. What did Red do?” She sounds panicked. Her voice sounds distinctly different from Red’s. It’s deeper, and talks slower, more put together in a way.
“I’m assuming Red is who we just talked to before. Unless there are more than two of you?” Gordon asks, unsure.
“No, no there isn't, it's just us two.” That confirmation makes Lee confused, but she remains silent so Harley can continue. “She killed someone, didn’t she?”
“Yes, but apparently you already knew about it.” Gordon tilts his head, not understanding why Blue was so shocked about it. Red made it clear that she was already aware of it.
“Listen, I don’t think murder is a good solution to anything, but I wasn’t going to tell on her for killing our own abuser like that. Our father was a sick man. He got old men to sleep with his daughter for alcohol money. And when she fought back he would beat her. This whole disorder, the reason why they’re two people in this body, stems from a place of childhood trauma.” Blue uses her hands when she speaks similar to Red, but also very differently. Blue’s movements and speech are much lower in energy and methodical. Red could be more sporadic.
“You seem to already know quite a bit about this.” Lee comments.
“I do a lot of reading. Plus I figured someone should know about us, and Red wasn’t going to read obviously. She’s immature, stupid, and-“ Blue seems to have a lot of things to rant about Red built up inside her. At least now she’s able to get some of her frustration out.
“You must really hate her.” Gordon cuts in, sounding sympathetic for the first time in the entire interrogation.
“Of course I do. She ruins my life. She drove away the one person I loved with her violence. Scared him off in the middle of the night. He doesn’t even send letters back to me.” Her eyes gloss over from tears recalling her trauma. “Now, I’m going to be forced into Arkham with her. I don’t belong there! You can’t put me in there! I’m sane!” She puts her face in her hands and cries. Lee and Gordon make eye contact, both sharing concern for the girl.
The sobbing stops and the room sits in silence. The only thing filling the room are sniffles. Harley looks up from her hands with a dark expression. She starts to grin again, changing her whole demeanor to an energetic one.
“Oh wow, she cried! She must really not want to go to Arkham.” No response. They look at her in horror. “What? Did you not like her?”
“No, we just feel bad that she has to put up with a bitch like you.” Lee says in a passive aggressively. Harley just laughs in response.
“I think we’re done here.” Gordon calls loudly to announce the interrogation’s end. The two officers walk in and roughly cuff Harley from behind. They escort her to a holding cell.
And that’s how Harley’s crazed reign over Gotham got started.