A.C.E Chemicals... Harley never heard of this place before. It looked like it was abandoned years ago the building stained and seemingly ready to be demolished but strangely, she could still see fumes floating into the sky.

Joker startled her when he opened the door and stepped out of the car. She followed suit shivering slightly at the cold air brushing against her skin. He looked to her briefly and jerked his head in a silent order to follow.

Walking the halls to whatever place she was being taken to, Harley watched the Joker. He was a few steps ahead of her almost completely motionless but every few seconds she'd catch the tap of a finger on the hem of his sweatpants. Accompanied by constant almost inaudible mutterings.

"No, we are not doing that, I doubt that would work... Unless, shut up. I have a plan and I'm sticking to it."

It brings her back to the Asylum when she thinks she saw a glimpse of his mind, Harley was always wary of labeling people with a mental illness or disorder. But she's heard stories from the other doctors and the orderlies.

The first time Batman dragged him to Arkham, beaten to a pulp. She was told that he terrorized his psychiatrists, every single one either dying, resigning or getting their very own cell in Arkham possibly deriving some kind of entertainment from it. Maybe a way to regain the feeling of power he lost when Batman beat him.
Although anyone who played back the recordings of his interviews swore that his voice was void of emotion. Then one day Joker turned around and was entirely civil to several people namely Officer Cash but she saw for herself how much Cash despised him and their were moments she expected them to lunge at each other. Easily ticking the boxes for Antisocial Personality Disorder, Cluster B. Basically a textbook sociopath, with the twist of Joker's cruel and often bloody slapstick sense of humour.

The next time he arrived in perfect physical condition but he refused to speak to anyone who approached him. His Psychiatrists only getting a few glares and maybe snide comments for their efforts. Then for weeks refusing to leave his cell for any reason. Schizoid Personality Disorder, Cluster A, easy.

And it continues like that. Every time he stays in Arkham he's diagnosed with some new illness. Schizotypal Disorder, Cluster A. Split Personality. Schizophrenia. One time the only thing standing between him and an esteemed certificate of sanity was his record!

What was worrying was that he fit the description for those illnesses so perfectly or imperfectly that it was impossible to tell if it was an act. His mind was a contradiction upon a contradiction. She doubts even Joker himself knows how his mind functions or why he does the things he does.

'Or maybe he knows perfectly well and everything was an act.' Harley pondered as she followed Joker up the metal stairs he climbed ahead of her. Reaching the top she found him waiting. There was a leering green glow emanating from the chemical vats below that alleviated the darkness and she spotted a small smile playing on his lips.

"What is this place?" She wondered aloud. Why would Mister J take her here?

"This, my sweet. Is where I was made." He spread his arms out and bowed low in a welcoming gesture.

Harley walked closer to the edge, cautious of the lack of railing, she peeked over and saw the green chemicals brewing and bubbling in one of the vats. She felt the breathe on her neck but his voice still made her jump a little.

"Do you like it?" He asked taking a hold of her waist to keep her from falling.

She looked into his eyes at the question, there was something there but she couldn't understand it. Was it a warning? Vulnerability? Or was it nothing at all?

"I.." She began nervously. "I want to know more." Harley finished. He tilted his head curiously.

"About how this made you into what you are." She clarified.

"Hmm, That. Is not why we're here." He withdrew and she stepped away from the edge, she was too out of practice to trust in her balance.

"Then why?" Harley questioned. He whipped around and brought his face right opposite hers.

"You need to learn. But not about me. Oh nonono. This is your day. You're birthday!" Joker squealed excitedly. He wrapped an arm around her waist as he placed a hand at the back of her neck, drawing her in close and began to whisper in her ear.

"Your trapped in an endless machine filled with minuscule and near insignificant cogs who's only purpose is to follow the path set out by one of the few pieces of the machine that those cogs believe actually matter. Do you wanna know what that machine is called?"

"Yes." She said without hesitation.

She felt his grin break out against her cheek. "Sanity. The so called, sane." He whispered hatefully as he drew back to stare into her eyes.

"They are a plague on humanity, deciding what is right and acceptable, which child deserves the beating. Which country or religion stepped too far out of some imaginary line and deserves a good genocide. Where people are allowed to shove or stick their extremities. Or even how many people your allowed to be with! So many rules for no apparent reason. All these things are done for such moronic reasons; hate, order, control, pride, greed and oh so many other despicable things when there's only one thing that matters."

"What?" Harley asked wistfully, he's never spoken like this before. It's captivating.

"How much fun you can squeeze out of this endless cesspool of a world we live in." He said passionately.

"And with that in mind." He continued casually. Harley suddenly realised that he was steering her closer to the edge through his speech as she felt her balance shift with the gentle press of a hand.

"MISTAH J!" She screamed as she teetered on the edge of the platform. She quickly regained her balance when he took hold of her hands in a mocking mimic of a bride and groom. She stared into his eyes which were now a blazing green in the dark of the massive room.

"What are you doing!" Harley asked desperately.

"Would you die for me?" Joker asked, disregarding her own question.

"What?!" Harley exclaimed incredulously.

"Would you, die, for. me?" He repeated slower.

"Yes!"

"Too easy!" He said immediately looking away as if pondering. "Would you, would you live for me?"

Harley heard an unfamiliar seriousness in his voice that made her hesitate after she opened her mouth.

'Would she..? More importantly, could she? Could she survive a life with him?' Harley questioned. She wasn't a muderer. How could she know that she even has a chance to survive..? But that's just it.

She doesn't know.

But she needs to. She couldn't live with herself if she didn't.

"Yes." Harley answered finally.

"Then, let. Go." He commanded

And she did.

--------

I'm honestly not sure exactly what I want to happen next I mean I know what I want to happen at the end and I have the major events I want to happen down and remembered. But it's the in betweens y'know? So they will most likely be a delay. Probably two weeks at least because I have exams so while that's happening I'm gonna try and map out in betweens in my plot.