An Unhealthy Attachment

A/N - Omg, it feels SOOO good to be done with this stupid chapter! I don't know WHAT'S wrong with me, but for the past week or so, I just haven't been able to write anything worth a darn. Hopefully that's not reflected in this chapter! And yeah, be sure to look at my end author's note because I've got some 'splainin' to do since I'm sure most of you will find fault in my ending. Trust me, I know what I'm doing. ;0)

CH 12: What Lies Beneath

As Bruce sat diligently at Rachel's bedside, he allowed his worn, calloused hand to caress her cheek as he gazed down upon her sweet face with unabashed affection. Even with the facial reconstruction he could see her true form peeking through, his thumb brushing along the curve of her lips before arching down toward the familiar jut of her chin. God, he knew he'd seen her somewhere before...a man could never forget a pair of starry eyes like Rachel Dawes'.

Needless to say, after Gordon had called him with the news of her alleged survival, Bruce had been in a complete state of shock for nearly six hours, especially since Rachel -- his Rachel -- was supposedly working side-by-side with the notorious Joker, himself. How could she have forgotten her past and, more importantly, her morals? Rachel was a woman of virtue, so the thought of her actually assisting a madman like the Joker deeply troubled him. But then...

Bruce frowned. Rachel's mind had been poisoned with some garbage about him having harmed her parents, so perhaps the Joker was merely using her as a pawn to get to him?

'Well if that's true, it's damn well working' Bruce bitterly thought, his eyes narrowing as he balled his hand into a fist. As far as he was concerned, the next time he and the Joker crossed paths, there would be hell to pay.

In accordance with these thoughts, a small moan came from Rachel's rosebud lips, Bruce looking down with a start in order to see her blue eyes resting warily upon him. "W-where am I?" she rasped.

Careful not to embrace her as he so desired, Bruce placed his hand over hers before gently interlocking their fingers, his tone hushed as he assured her, "You're safe now, Harley...you're at Wayne Manor under the best possible care."

Rachel snorted. "What, you mean yours?" Retracting her hand from his fingers as if they were poisonous tentacles, she scowled before haughtily remarking, "I could file a lawsuit about you kiddnapping me, you know. I don't take well to waking up in strangers' beds."

"But I'm not a stranger" Bruce insisted, his eyes reflecting his pain as he wondered if he should get what he wanted to say out in the open. Since Rachel had been supposedly brainwashed into believing the Joker's stories, he was fully aware that he needed to treat the matter with a certain delicateness. Reaching for her hand yet again, he barely noticed her shunt from his touch as he gazed forlornly into her eyes. They were so troubled...so confused.

"Harley" he smoothly began, "do you remember your doctor from St. Thomas'?"

"Dr. Dandridge? Why yes, I do...I assume she was killed when the Joker rescued me" Rachel admitted.

Trying not to snort at her 'rescue' remark, Bruce leaned forward with his hands folded in his lap, his tongue clicking against his teeth as he confessed, "Well that's not entirely true, Miss Quinzel. Dr. Dandridge is very much alive."

Rachel's eyes widened. "Sh-she is?"

"Yes" Bruce solemnly revealed, "and she's actually here right now, waiting for you to wake up. She flew all the way over from London when she found out your true identity."

"What are you talking about?" Rachel demanded, her eyes narrowing. "I already know my true identity, and nothing you or some half-wit doctor say can prove otherwise!"

"Oh really, love?"

Looking up with a start, Rachel blanched when she saw her former doctor enter the room, a clinical smile upon Collette's lips as she re-adjusted her glasses.

"Mr. Wayne is right" she earnestly sustained. "You have been tricked by a mass-murderer into believing that you, too are a crook running from the law. According to several speculative articles, the Joker is nothing more than a troubled individual who preys on fear and insecurity. Despite his high intellect, he views everything as one big game and you, my dear Miss Dawes, are by far no exception."

Rachel balked. "W-what did you just call me?"

"Miss Dawes" Collette reiterated, a hand running through her short, auburn bob as she gave her a hopeful look. "Do you recognize the name?"

Rachel slowly shook her head, yet her curious features were clearly stained with doubt.

Glancing impatiently over at Collette, Bruce suddenly spoke up, "Think harder, Miss Dawes...your true identity lies behind that name." When he was greeted by Rachel's bewildered gaze, he urgently sustained, "Don't you remember us playing together as children, Rach? I gave you a floral pendant, and you threw it in the pond when you found out I had a crush on you...apparently I still had cooties."

Although the story was meant to make Rachel smile, her lips didn't so much as twitch. "I don't know what you're talking about" she dully declared, her eyes narrowing as she returned her gaze to Collette. "Dr. Dandridge, although I highly appreciate your coming out here, I regret to inform you that I have no memories of a 'Miss Dawes', nor do I want to. My name is Harleen Quinzel, and the Joker has been nothing but kind to me during our partnership."

"Then you're in love with him?" Collette inquired, her lips twisting as she carefully observed Rachel's startled reaction. "The Joker is a very charismatic and clever man, Miss Dawes; it's no secret that he tends to get whatever he wants."

Cheeks burning with indignation, Rachel snapped, "No, I am not in love with him, but I fail to see how that's any of your business! He just needs a friend, Dr. Dandridge, and I'm the only one who can help him."

Bruce's expression soured at her words, but he appeared grateful when Collette spoke up, instead. "Miss Dawes, I think you know that's not true" she condescendingly began. "The Joker doesn't depend on his surroundings, which, I'm sorry to say, include his acquaintences. One moment he's an impish, fun-loving clown, and then the next he's a psychopathic murderer. Because of this, I'm led to believe that he doesn't have a genuine personality. Depending on his mood, he actually seems to recreate himself and re-establish his purpose." Now brushing back her loose bangs, she solemnly added, "I don't think he believes that he truly has a purpose, Miss Dawes. This is why he continuously seeks out Batman, death, and destruction...they all help to prove that he's really alive."

Rachel gazed down at the comforter on Bruce's bed in silence, her nails absently grazing the fine silk as she allowed Collette's words to fully sink in. Could the Joker truly be using her, and if so, why? Why would he give her a new identity just so she could be his partnter? Frowning, Rachel hugged herself for support and leaned back against her pillow, her voice soft and full of defeat as she asked, "Well why me, then? Why did the Joker choose me, a former burn victim, above all the other residents of Gotham?"

"Well that's what we were hoping you could tell us" Bruce confessed. "The guy was obsessed with you up until your alleged death, so I was wondering why he'd come to England just to give you a new alias."

The look of jealousy on his face might've been cute, if it weren't for the fact that Rachel was far too bemused to acknowledge him. Looking to Collette for answers, she earnestly revealed, "Well, he did say something about being a man of his word...I can't remember his exact explanation, but he mentioned how he needed to keep his promise."

Bruce snorted. "And since when does that creep keep his word? He's a psychopath, not some saint bent on fulfilling a promise to some woman."

"You speak as if you know him" Rachel coolly observed. "I can assure you that you do not, Mr. Wayne, and from what I've gathered, he's far more of a man than you'll ever be."

Clenching his jaw, Bruce moved to give a biting remark when Collette graciously intervened, her eyes training curiously upon her patient as she asked, "And what exactly has the Joker done to make you feel this way?"

Rachel's cheeks reddened. "How many times do I have to tell you that our relationship is none of your business? If I were in search of a marriage counselor you'd be perfect, but since I'm neither in need of a counselor or a doctor, I'd be very much appreciative if you two would just let me go."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"What!? You can't keep me here!" Moving in order to get out of Bruce's bed, Rachel gave a cry when Collette seized her by the shoulders and forcefully pushed her back under the covers.

"I'm sorry, Miss Dawes, but you've proven to us that you can't be trusted" Collette sternly began. "If you'd just accept the fact that you're not Harley Quinn, we'd know that you were on the road to recovery." Now turning to Bruce, she urged, "Fetch my syringe...it's in the medicine bag by your feet."

Panicking, Rachel shrieked, "B-but I have no memory of being a 'Miss Dawes'...how can you do this to me if I genuinely don't know who that woman was!?" Seeing the syringe in Bruce's hand, she began to thrash about more violently, tears blinding her vision as she sobbed, "Oh God, please just let me go! Please! I swear to you that I'm not lying about all of this...I really am Harleen Quinzel!"

With a sigh, Collette took the syringe from Bruce as he moved to help steady Rachel's flailing limbs, the doctor's voice sickeningly sweet as she insisted, "Trust me, love, this is for your own good."

The sharp, stinging sensation of the needle piercing her flesh made Rachel scream, her body arching as she once more tried to escape from the merciless hands holding her down. After the syrum had entered her bloodstream, she began to feel incredibly faint, both Bruce and Collette's faces doubling and blending together as she watched on in fear.

Promptly turning his back to the heartwrenching spectacle, Bruce closed his eyes as he miserably asked, "And you're sure we're doing the right thing, doctor?"

Collette appeared to be genuinely taken aback. "Well of course I'm sure, love; I should know above anyone else who Rachel Dawes was, and now that we've finally found her again, I'm not about to give up on saving her life!"

Bruce nodded solemnly. "Although I believe you, it all just seems so unethical..."

"But she's sleeping now" Collette insisted. Taking him by the arm, she urged, "Come along, love...while she's in her drug-induced slumber, we can try and figure out how to make her hate that bugger, the Joker."

Although Bruce clearly wished to stay with Rachel, he accepted Collette's offer and began to follow her toward his office. With one last glance at Rachel's sleeping form, he mouthed a pained 'I'm sorry' before guiltily continuing on his way.

--

When Rachel awoke, she discovered that it was well into the evening. If it weren't for the fact that she was in Bruce's bed, she would've chalked her recent memories up as an incredibly bizarre nightmare, but the strange room and the burning itch on her arm were more than enough to prove otherwise.

Amazed that Bruce and Collette hadn't taken the time to secure her to the bed, Rachel eagerly kicked off the covers and went staggering onto the floor. Cursing her shaking limbs, the former DA grabbed her clothes (which were still drying from the rain) and began to tiptoe toward the large entryway leading to God-knows-where.

Just as she thought she'd made it to the staircase undetected, a tall, dark figure suddenly entered the vicinity with what appeared to be a tray.

"Miss Dawes?" the figure inquired, but not unkindly, "What are you doing out of bed? Master Wayne would bloody well murder me if he knew you were up and about catching your death of cold."

Slightly disarmed by the man's kind disposition, Rachel struggled to see amidst the shadows as she curiously asked, "Wh-who are you? I don't believe we've met..."

There was the sound of a weary, disappointed sigh as the man shifted ever-so-slightly, yet his voice turned bright again as he obediently returned, "Alfred Pennyworth, Madame...family friend and devoted butler. I've known you and Master Wayne ever since you both were little children."

Eyes softening, Rachel meekly bowed her head as she confessed, "I don't remember you, Mr. Pennyworth, but somehow...somehow I wish I did." Slowly approaching him, she pressed, "Are Bruce and Collette really telling me the truth? Am I really some woman named Rachel Dawes?"

"I'm afraid I'm not the one who can tell you that, Madame" Alfred sadly returned. Now pointing toward her heart, he softly explained, "Only you can discover who you really are, so if you try and unlock the secrets of your heart, you may one day discover your true identity."

Amazed by his insight, Rachel bowed her head before placing her hand over her so-called heart, her eyes closing as she weakly inquired, "I suppose you're going to sound the alarm and let Bruce know I'm running away?"

"Why no, on the contrary."

Looking up with a start, Rachel could hardly prevent herself from smiling as she demanded, "Well why not? What have I done to deserve such kindness?"

"It's because you're like the daughter I never had" Alfred softly returned, "and to see you happy would in turn make me happy, so I want you to do whatever you feel is right for you." Now turning in the opposite direction, he pointed ahead before explaining, "If you go down those stairs, they'll lead you into the foyer, which is right in front of the double doors leading outside. If you hurry, I can go distract Master Wayne and his guest."

Feeling her eyes tearing up with emotion, Rachel gratefully threw her arms about Alfred's neck before gushing her thanks, the older man feeling tears coming to his eyes in turn as he returned the embrace.

"Quickly now, go on, love" he urged, to which Rachel nodded and immediately obeyed.

As he watched her leave, Alfred sighed before setting the tray onto a nearby table, his heart heavy as he wondered if he truly was doing the right thing.

--

By the time Rachel returned to her apartment, her eyes were bloodshot and her make-up was smudged in dark circles beneath her eyes. Her conversation with Alfred had forced her to think about the past few weeks, and she was beginning to truly fear that Bruce and Collette were right. But then again, the Joker always seemed to be there for her during her bleakest hours, so surely that proved something?

Wiping at her tear-stained cheeks, Rachel hung her coat up on the rack before entering her bedroom, a shrill shriek escaping her lips the moment a tall, dark figure egressed from the shadows.

"Well gee, I know I'm hid-e-ous-ly deformed and all, but couldja at least tone down the screams?" a soothingly familiar voice mocked, Rachel sighing in relief once her partner stepped into the soft, lambent glow of the moon.

"Joker" she uneasily began, "I-I was actually hoping I'd see you..."

"Oh?" Giving her a sickly grin, the clown prince clasped his hands before asking, "What did you, uh...wish to see me about? Another chat, perhaps? The kind with no talking and reckless a-ban-don-ment?"

Rachel felt her cheeks grow hot with his insinuation, but she nonetheless managed to stand tall as she asked, "Why have people been calling me Rachel Dawes? I was kidnapped yesterday evening by some stranger, and my caretakers keep insisting that it's actually you who's the enemy."

Bursting into a fit of delighted giggles, the Joker clapped his hands before eagerly asking, "And did you buh-lieve them?"

"Why no, of course not" Rachel firmly insisted. "Why would I believe them over you, the man who saved my life?"

With a whoop of a laugh, the Joker giddily shook his head before chiding, "Ah, Harley...poor, poor, foolish Harley. You never were one to think with your buh-rain opposed to your heart, now were you?"

Rachel balked. "W-well what do you mean? Are you trying to say that...that they were right?"

Sneering at the horrified look on her face, the Joker backed her up against the wall before taking her firmly by the throat, his face now mere inches from hers as he purred, "I don't know why I wanted to call you Harley when your true name is just so or-gas-mic. It's like the sound of bone crunching against pavement...the bludgeoning of a skull beneath the butt off a gun. Raaaaaychel...by God, do you hear it? All that death and de-struc-tion in one simple name...b-eaut-i-ful, isn't it?"

Shivering, Rachel tried to fend him off, but found that she lacked the gumption as she listened to his story. Bottom lip quivering, she managed to meekly choke out, "W-why did you do this to me? Why am I so important to you?"

The Joker snorted. "Well whoever said you were important to me? I've told you time and time again that I'm fulfilling a promise and nothing more."

"Well a promise for what? Surely you had a reason!" Rachel persisted.

The Joker scowled, but his grip about her throat loosened considerably. "I was going to, uh...kill you" he confessed, "but before you 'died' I told myself that if you survived, we were meant to do this forever."

Rachel balked. "Do what forever? Murder innocent civilians and cause mindless mayhem?"

"Well no, but when you put it that way, it's not such a bad idea" the Joker remarked, a grin splitting his lips as he watched Rachel's features darken. "Ya see, you've changed things for me, Miss Dawes, and there's no turning back. I wanted to use you to drive Gotham's white knight off the deep end, and now that he's hospitalized, I'm sure that it's only a mat-ter of time before he snaps com-plete-ly."

Rachel's eyes widened. "But if Harvey didn't snap before I 'died', why would he go crazy now?"

"Because lit-tle Mir-and-uh was his pride and joy, and we squashed her into o-bliv-ion." Grinning at the way Rachel winced at his words, the Joker giggled before tapping her cheek with his gloved fingers. "Ahh, is that com-passion I detect in that charming lit-tle face of yoursss? Really now, Rachel, we need to work on that. If you're going to be my partner, you've got to learn to let go and just do."

"But I don't want to work with you anymore" Rachel coolly reminded him. "Although I'm forever indebted to you, you've just proven that you used me as a pawn in your miserable game. You didn't ask me to tag along out of friendship, but for cruel, underhanded purposes. I can't do that, Joker, especially since I believe I was a good person in my former life."

"Sickeningly good" the Joker acknowledged, a grin crossing his lips as he ran his fingers along her chin. "You were ab-so-lute-ly in-corrupt-able, Miss Dawes, and that's what I liked about you. Ya see, there's nothing worth savoring about your day job if you don't face challenges, so that's exactly what I did. I, uh...chose you, I guess you could say, and forced you to play my lit-tle games."

"So when you say that we're meant to do this forever, you're referring to our games?" Rachel asked, her eyes softening as her mind swam with questions. "Are you sure that it's nothing more than that? I-I mean, did we ever...? Um..."

Giving a whoop of a laugh, the Joker gave her a lascivious grin before purring, "Did we ever do what, dollface? Each other?" Bursting into yet another fit of giggles, he dragged his hot tongue along her cheek and nipped at her ear, his swelling arousal grinding against her hips as he growled, "Why yes, we did, beautiful...ev-er-y chance that we got, for that matter."

"No, that's not what I meant" Rachel hissed, her teeth biting into her bottom lip to stifle the soft, breathy moans that longed to escape her throat. "I wanted to know if we...um...ugh, stop that!" Lifting a threatening knee in front of the Joker's groin, she narrowed her eyes before sustaining, "I wanted to know if we were romantically involved."

The Joker gave a whoop of a laugh. "Well why do you ask, dollface? Are you, uh...star-ting to de-velop feelings for meee?"

Feeling her cheeks grow hot, Rachel scowled before snapping, "You're the last man on earth I'd fall for, Joker...I fight against everything you stand for!"

"Mm, sure ya do, honey bunch, but op-po-sites attract, re-mem-berrr?" the Joker purred, a black smile unfurling within his soul when he noted the way Rachel's breathing steadily increased. Running his gloved hand along her thigh, he leaned forward before licking her quivering lips, a chuckle escaping his throat as he crashed his mouth forcefully against her own. Predictable as she was, Rachel began to hesitantly respond to his administrations, her tongue gliding over his as she placed her hands against the firmness of his chest and slowly eased them upward.

Wait, what was she doing?

Stiffening when Rachel reached for his face, the Joker growled in displeasure as she delicately caressed each of his facial scars, his growls soon turning into strangled whimpers when she brought her lips to his left laceration.

Gently worrying it in between her lips and teeth, Rachel flicked her tongue across the scar before peppering it with nauseatingly sweet kisses. Never in the Joker's life had a woman touched him in such an intimate manner, and he despised the fact that it actually felt good. Toes curling when Rachel repeated her administrations to the other scar, he cursed as his heart began to throb with his all too familiar mantra: Alive Alive Alive.

'No' he furiously thought, 'this isn't how it's supposed to be...'

Taking her right hand and roughly removing it from his face, the Joker slammed her arm against the wall and reached inside his waistcoat with trembling fingers.

Genuinely surprised by his actions, Rachel watched on with questioning blue eyes until she saw the glimmer of a knife. Oh, God...

"Joker, what are you...?"

Before Rachel could even bring her thought to completion, the Joker took the blade and mercilessly thrust it through the thin, delicate flesh and muscle of her right wrist. Screaming from both the shock and agonizing pain, Rachel felt tears forming along her lashes as blood bubbled to the surface of her wound, the excruciating ache throbbing at the point of attack as she watched the Joker turn to make his leave.

"No, don't go" she sobbed, "oh God, please don't go!"

The clown prince gave her an indifferent look, yet there was something else that flickered within the ubiquitous depths of his soul. Pivoting fully around in order to depart from the aggravating woman's presence, he didn't so much as flinch when Rachel called after him for help, her sobs echoing off the walls as she slumped down onto the floor in helpless defeat.

A/N - Ok, FACT - crucifixions were actually performed through the WRIST, not the hand (the bone structure in the hands are too weak to support a human's body weight), so if you think Rachel would bleed out because of her wound, you're right AND wrong. Let's just say that Mistah J hit her in a "non-vital" part of her wrist. lol

And wow, thank you SO SO SO much for reviewing more so than usual...made me feel loved and appreciated. :) But wow, I STILL took forever and a year, so I apologize for that...just imagine how I long I would've taken if you hadn't reviewed! lol

I PREDICT THAT THERE WILL BE ABOUT 3 OR 4 MORE CHAPTERS LEFT, SO I HOPE YOU'LL ENJOY! I LOVE YOU GUYS!