DCM Volume 2 - Chapter 10: Inner Turmoil

The city of Gotham was as gloomy as ever, with those oh-so familiar dark clouds rumbling in the distance, guarding those golden rays like an over zealous bouncer. The light smog in the air didn't help improve the dower mood it seemed to force onto its denizens. But despite all this, there was at least one upside to the day.

It wasn't hot. Not in the slightest. The crisp, chilly air clung to the skin like a second layer, cooling the body like no other. It was a fact Albert that greatly appreciated above all else.

'I hate running in the heat.'

Wiping the sweat off his forehead, the teen continued his slow 'jog' trying to regulate his breathing to squeeze in just a few more steps. Everything hurt, his legs, feet, chest, arms and lungs. Hell, somehow even his hair felt like it was screaming. He didn't know how long he was jogging for, but with each passing moment it became harder and harder to find the will to keep on going. Plus with no one around….

'Who would know? It'll just take me a few seconds….minutes to recover. I can just stop for a bit and still finish this lap and with her nowhere in sight, I should be fine. Right?'

Like worms of desire and sloth, they burrowed in deeper. Sliding past his waning willpower and flagging desperation to get in shape, murmuring sweet nothings of all the benefits doing so would immediately bring. One, his knees won't feel like their ready to start to revolt and also his lungs will cease their attempt to jump out of his chest. And it'll especially get rid of that jabbing pain in his side, that in itself was probably the deciding factor above all else. And just as his already slow jog begin to flag, a voice from behind ended that desire with a few tutting words.

"Nuh-uh!" The high pitched voice was feminine in nature, with a very, very distinct accent that any American would be able to tell exactly where she grew up. After all, there were plenty of movies and television shows that showcased Brooklyn accents that it had become a household norm. "I know I have a nice tush, Red knows it and Kitty knows it, despite her saying otherwise. She got these real pretty green eye of hers that makes what she's looking at soooo obvious! Like come on, it's fine if you wanna be all sneaky but don't lie about it, you know what I mean? I don't why she acts so shy sometimes! She's so pretty it's not even fa-"

Despite her prodding, the woman didn't pass him but instead ran up right to the point of almost stepping on his heels and kept on him through her little ramble. It was purposeful, the sheer amount of anxiety such an action would force into a person would make anyone feel the need to run faster. No matter if they already running on fume already, having someone right on their heels would forcibly drag out remaining energy to sprint to safety. It was more instinctual, lizard part of the human brain that governed such a reaction.

"As I was saying!" Harley continued after ranting for god only knows how long, sounding more out of breathe from speaking than from the jogging. As though their current pace was a mere walk. Something Albert, in his visibly sweat soaked clothes, envied greatly. "I could understand from before, maybe you wanted to get a better look! It's fine! I do it all the time! In fact I'm pretty sure that's why Red gets sooo annoyed with me in the morning! So you lagging behind was fine in the beginning but you couldn't even imagine the near heart-attack I had when I didn't see you behind me! Like seriously, I'm WAY too young to be having heart attacks! I thought somehow had snatched you up and ol'Harley needed to bust some skulls up! But look at you! You're back here walking!"

"I'm not walking!"

He snapped back instinctual and instantly regretted the reaction as his dwindling air supply was suddenly expelled in one single motion that it nearly caused him to stagger. A small but freakishly strong hand steadied him before anything else could happen.

"Whatever you say!" Harley said cheerfully, letting go as the teen began to job again. "Like I was saying, jeez you gotta stop interrupting me or else I'm never going to get through what I'm saying! I could understand you lagging behind cuz you wanted to ogle at my booty but color me surprise when I'm the one with your flatty in my face! I wasn't even going that fast, there's no reason I should be behind you now!"

Instead of responding, Albert only tried to desperately drag in as much air as possible for the next barrage of words. His brain might've been running on fumes, but that didn't mean he couldn't tell there were no questions in her words. Meaning there was no reason for him to defend himself from the trio of ogling accusations she was leveling on him.

A flash of blonde hair appearing out of the corner of his eyes was more than enough proof she had grown bored with harassing his poor heels. A stupid, teasing grin etched a cross her face that showcased only a light sheen of sweat across her forehead. Other than that, there was no further proof of her jogging for nearing an hour.

The grin was familiar. It was one she sent his way every-time she got the best of him during an encounter during their weekly game nights. It didn't matter if it was some small like pick-pocketing a farmer on the way to the market or cheating a slimy merchant with a phony magical item and making off like a bandit. It was this triumphed grin that signified a mental check mark, a score to be kept.

She had won this round and now whether she would endlessly tease him about it for the next week or not was completely up to her. Maybe he would look back on this moment in a few days and regret not sticking up for himself more, but in the moment, in his current mood, he was beyond giving a damn.

None of this had been planned in the slightest, Albert had just been sleeping soundly in his bed before being rudely interrupted by obnoxious, but familiar, knocking on his front door. In a near daze, he stupidly trudged downstairs and stupidly opened the door before his brain could fully kick into high gear. And by the time his mind registered what the blonde was wearing, it was already too late. She stood there with her hipping cocked and bright eyes glimmering with mirth, wearing these heavily baggy sweatpants that looked like it would engulf her in it's sheer size and a long sleaved, gray sweater that had bold yellow letters emblazoned across the front.

Now, here he was, whisked out of his comfortable bed, sweating like a pig in the chilly morning air. Feet hurting something fierce, lungs wheezing and heart thumping a mile a minute. But despite his rather hazy state, there was something that caught his attention. A light at the end of the tunnel. Down the street from them, an old wood and cement bench sat innocently. Completely unaware of the teen now barreling towards it at 'high' speeds.

Albert was beyond caring if the blonde was following or not, or if she approved of his need to rest. What was going to do, force him to run past the bench? He would love to see her try, his Brawling skills might be completely nonexistent, but he wouldn't mind getting a few levels. But with her silence, he took it as permission to finally collapse into the hard surface.

Near instant relief filled him as every body part let out a sigh, grateful to finally be done with the torture. Normally, the rather stiff seat wouldn't have brought any comfort but in that moment, it was softer than even a pillow made entirely out of duck feathers. A luxury he hadn't been able to afford back in his old life or, sadly, this one.

A sudden series of harsh banging jolted him out of his relaxed fugue state and craning his neck behind him, he saw the source. Harley, let out a triumphant cry as she excitedly reach down and pulled out two bottles of water from a nearby vending machine that had a very, very visible dent. Without turning around, she tossed the bottle his way and opened hers in the next moment. His eyes, slightly red from his own sweat, zeroed in on the tiny bit of life flipping end over end his way. Muscles that flopped about uselessly on a daily basis clenched in a united pattern, fingers reaching out the chilly looking surface. The wet surface slid through his grasp, hitting the ground at his feet with an audible thump.

Ignoring the way his back groaned out, he swiped the bottle up, unscrewed the cap and finally allowed the cold goodness to drip down his throat. A flush of chilly water filled his stomach in a rapid manner as he tried his best to gulp everything down.

"Don't chug it all down." Harley scolded as she slid into the bench besides him, moving almost akin to liquid. "Especially not all at once! I'm NOT sharing mine if you get thirsty again! You probably have cooties or something!"

'Was this planned?' After the cold water refreshed his mind, the thought niggled at him as certain factors slid into place. It was usually good practice to bring some sort of water bottle along during any planned exercise, especially when running or jogging was involved. But that hadn't been the case this time around. She had lived in Gotham for a lot longer than he had, and probably knew a lot of the local vending machines by heart.

"Don't give me that look!" She looked ready to splash the teen but thought better of it, the weather was far too chilly to start a water fight. "I don't usually jog around here, my usual route is a lot nicer! They actually maintain the vending machines there! Like really, that thing must be busted or rigged I tell you! I put like two dollars in there and it only wanted to give me one bottle? What a sham! Plus on my route, I always end it around this nice little bodega that serves these really delicious breakfast sandwiches. Just imagine it, a soft toasted roll, crispy bacon, an egg cooked directly in that delicious grease, a bit of cheese melted on that thang and a little bit of sauce! Oh man, look at what you made me do! I'm suppose to be cutting but here you are about to make me break it!"

"I didn't bring it up." He wasn't willing to let her push the blame on his shoulders, especially not with her being the cause of his rumbling stomach. "Where is that bodega anyway?"

"Oh I'll lead you there," She grinned slyly," You'll just have to pay for my breakfast. Think of it as payment for putting you on the best sandwich spot in Gotham."

If it was the bodega he thought she was talking about, it would certainly be worth the price. That particular sandwich had sparked a lot of debate in his old life, people trying everything to remake that very food that had filled the big screen. And now, with the chances of him trying the original, he really didn't mind paying for hers' as well.

The two fell into a rare silence as the conversation petered off, while weird for the blonde he gratefully enjoyed the quiet. If there was one thing he enjoyed living in this part of Gotham, it was the complete lack of usual city hubbub. Sure, there were plenty parts of the city that were abandoned but those places were practically falling apart. But here, it's abandonment was recent and the city was still trying to avoid gaining yet another dead-zone.

"Soooooo.." It wouldn't Harley if she could stay quiet for too long," What's up with you? How's your agency?"

"It's going fine." Albert just hoped the blonde hadn't notice his shoulders bunching defensively at her question, even if she could read him like a book most times that didn't mean he wanted to make it easy. "Why do you ask?"

"Nothin much…" Those blonde locks bouncing from side to side told him she was having some sort of internal debate, or better yet she made it seem like she was in deep thought. There were times he really couldn't tell, sometimes she let things slip accidentally or on purpose. "I've just been thinking…"

"I get what you were going for, you know if your naming and all." She continued at his visibly confused face. "You know, The Seeking Eye Agency, with it's acronyms being S.E.A. Sure it might sound like SEE when it's first being heard but I don't know how or why but one day, after getting the shampoo out of my eye which like something fierce I tell you. I think it might've even given me pink-eye! Anyway as I was saying, while that was going on it hit me! And it makes soooo much more sense now!"

"What if instead of Agency, why not replace it with the word Establishment?"

Harley had always been showcased as an agent of chaos in most forms of medias she was in. She was strong, agile, so tricky that it was sometimes apt to compare her to a fox and above all else, smart as hell. So, it wasn't strange that it felt like Albert was hit on the head with that iconic hammer, etched with a smiling harlequin painting on it's head.

His already tired mind, stuttered to a near halt as the logic of it all slipped into place. And there was only a single question in that sputtered mind of his,' Why the hell didn't I think of that?'

It was such a simple change too, not only would the word give his business a more refined air but also more importantly, it'll make his acronym idea make sense. But despite how good this idea was, there a single problem that made it completely untenable. The idea, or better named revelation, came from Harley Quinn herself.

Call it pride or stubbornness, he didn't care, giving the blonde anymore wins today wouldn't be a good idea. Especially not with something as big as his agency's name. Next thing he knew, she would be asking to be listed as a partner.

"Since I've fixed your name, don't you think you kinda owe me now?" The shit eating grin she sent his way told him all he needed to know. "I won't ask for anything huge...just lemme tag along one of your cases! I swear I'll be quiet! You won't even know I'm there! And I think I'll be a good detective too! I'll get a trench coat and a fedora or something too! We can be like Sherlock and Watson! I'll be Sherlock of course and you can be Watson!"

"I'll think about it." While having Harley as a safety net in Gotham sounded like a good idea, especially for some of the more dangerous cases that'll come his way eventually, he didn't really think these mundane cases he was deal with would really interest the blonde. And when she got bored, destruction and mayhem ensued. Her being on her twelfth character in a month was proof enough of that.

"I'm not hearing a no." That grin didn't leaver her pale face, growing wider at his silent response. "Sooo, Watson, want to clue me in on your current case? Are ya dealing with mobsters? Mafia? Art thieves? Serial killers?"

"You know I can't tell you. Client confidentiality."

"I know all about that!" She waved her hand around dismissively. "Lawyers, Private Investigators and Psychologist all cling to that so jealously! But c'mon! You gotta tell me something, she's pretty so it has to be something big!"

"...How do you know what she looks like?"

"Don't give me that look! I just passed by her on my over to your house! And she looked a bit pale to be honest...so was it bad news? Did you swing your shot and miss? I'm so sorry Al, I think she's a bit too old for you. But don't you worry, in two…?"

"One year, three months."

"Yeah!" She continued." I'll just make two years just to be safe, I'll introduce you to some real HOT and single ladies!"

"While that is appreciated," He lied, having Harley Quinn act as his wing-man didn't sound like a good idea in the slightest. Who the hell would she introduce him too to begin with? From what he knew, the only people she regularly hung out with was either Ivy or him. If she had other friends, they had stayed in the shadows for now, "That wasn't what happened. Me flirting with a client would be very inappropriate. Not just because I'm a minor but also because of the conflict of interest."

"Figured as much," She stretched her arms out high, a series of popping following the motions along with a sigh of relief," You don't seem the type. You know, when I was back in college they drilled this idea of always keeping a sort of distance between us and our patients. That we can empathize with them but going beyond that part was grounds of having our licensed taken away…. I...Anyway, during our last year there, they sent us out to the field as interns to get our feet wet. My class started off, that year, with over twenty people and by the end of it, only like five people actually graduated. Most of them either quit due to the stress or...you know got too close too their patient. The field you're in is somewhat similar to my field so let ol'Harley pass on some of her good wisdom: never, ever allow yourself to get too close to a client. Not just because of your age but also because of your professionalism. This isn't like those old detective movies where you can slap a broad and kiss her. I'm not saying you ever would do something like that, what I'm saying is this. You don't have enough of yourself to get attached to every single case you invest yourself in."

"Even becoming friends with a client isn't advised. I'm sure you'll come across an angry client and the words they'll spew at you will hurt beyond belief if you don't have your defenses up."

In that moment, he didn't feel like he was collapsed on a stone bench in the middle of ghost street. He wasn't drenched in sweat, nor were his lungs slowly recovering. He was instead, sitting reclined on a comfy chair with his feet upraised with Harley sitting besides him dressed in a crisp business suit. Her hair was pinned up in a tight bun and a pair of large glasses covered a majority of her face.

What she was saying, was accurate. Psychology had already been whispering similar sense yesterday evening but despite that, those cold shackles never found their mark. Despite knowing he shouldn't have gotten so close, knowing that he shouldn't have projected himself over her, he had still done it. Making that look she gave him all the more hurtful. It was like his own past self was disgusted with him for the monster the void had turned him into.

Albert knew none of this was rational in the slightest, but who said human emotion ever was. And even in the grand scheme of things, what he had done wasn't even that bad. Sure reporting Rueben to IRS would possibly flip the man's life completely on it's head and even maybe send him to federal prison.

'Okay, maybe it is that bad…'

"Thanks, I do really appreciate it." He knew what this was, a friendly hand outstretched his way. An attempt at comforting him. And while it didn't instantly uplift his dower mood, the mere act of it was already more than he could have expected from anyone in this world.

"Enough of this mushy stuff!" Harley clapped him heavily on his shoulder and hopped to her feet, already jogging in place as those blue eyes glared down at him. "If I'm going to be eating at Sal's, I'm sure as hell going to make sure I earn it! Up! You rested enough! And no more ogglin at my booty!"

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Gotham wasn't such a dangerous place, sure the people were a bit grumpy and far too eager to throw a punch with even the slightest drop of alcohol involved but nothing a few whacks of her baby couldn't solve amicably. Humming, Harley continued to skip through the crowd of people. An elbow here and a knee there was more than enough for her to effortlessly traverse midday traffic. Sure there might've been some overally aggressive looking people ready to scrap just to avoid going back to work, but a simple award winning smile that showed all her pearly whites mollified those dummies. Sometimes it really paid to be pretty.

'Shoulda wore my booties..'

She was sure her trip would've been much shorter with the assistance of those bright red, metal plated boots that had just the right amounts of taste and effectiveness to absolutely recks these unsuspecting sheeple. But despite how they made her eyes positively pop, they sadly weren't all too suited for jogging. They could make do in getting away, but for actual training? It would've rubbed something fierce against her ankle. So for that reason alone, she was now waltzing around like a normal person in sneakers.

Slipping between the crowd, it didn't take long for her to make it a very familiar apartment building. Just standing imperiously as the congestion of people passed by, Harley would admit it.

'This place sure is dump.'

The bricking was uneven, the paint faded and each of the windows from what she could see were completely different makes. And don't even get her started on the trash littered everywhere near the front, but despite that, this was probably one of the only places she would ever peacefully rest her head completely.

Shaking her blond locks, that easy smile slipped itself back in place and with effort, she pushed through the crowd towards those familiar doors. But not before stomping heavily on a passerby's feet. Their hand, that had been reaching to no-no spot, reeled back with a high pitch squeal of pain that matched the man's piglike appearance. Honestly, if she were to wear a blindfold, there would be no way for her to tell the difference in the slightest.

And just like that, the easy grin became a whole lot easier to wear.

Her opinion of the lobby wasn't all too different from the build's exterior, it was still a dump. A few old looking couches that looked quite a bit ready to kick the bucket, chairs that not even Kitty would sit upon in fear of breaking and of course, the mildewy smell wafting off the incredibly ugly green carpet. At least what remains of said carpet.

"Heya Arney!"

Harley waved her one free hand over at the hunched man wearing a set of faded overalls the simple hung off his body. Blonde hair that might've even matched her brightning in it's hayday, now had streaks of gray making itself known. Turning, she got a good look at the gray undershirt drenched in sweat and those tired eyes looking her way. She could see his mind working at her greeting, dragging him out of the fugue-like state and the memories that held the veteran captive. War left all sorts of scars, some of which not entirely physical.

"Hey Harley." Darnell, grunted, pausing in his work as she grew closer. Peaking over his shoulder, she spotted a corner of the carpet peeled back to expose sickly yellow wood beneath. The scent of mildew hit her full force in face, so much so that it caused her to reel back in shock.

"Gee!" The smell forced her hand, shoving her nose full force over the previously rolled up paper-bag. Inhaling noisily, everything was right in the world as the scent of bacon and eggs wriggled up her nose. "What the hell are ya doing? Are ya trying to kill me for being late on rent or somethin?!"

"You still pay rent?" The old man coughed out wheezing laugh, crows feet growing more pronounce as mirth danced in those dark eyes. "But no, I decided to do some renovations the previous landlord rejected. Did you know this carpet hasn't been changed in over twenty years? I plan to completely redo the lobby floor but first I need to make sure there's no black mold. Otherwise, you'll be homeless for a bit."

"The park benches are pretty nice!" Her voice came out muffled, greedily inhaling the delicious scent like a respirator. "And plus besides, the sky sure looks beautiful at night!"

"Sure." He tilted his head to the side at the paper bag covering a majority of her face. "I'll see you later Harley, but try to avoid coming down for a bit. I should be done in about two to three hours."

"Yes sir!"

Saluting sloppily, the blonde continued on her way.

"And stop stomping on the stair!" She heard him call out behind her. "You'll damage the wood like that!"

There was a lot of things she was willing to do for the man, whether it be helping him lift something heavy, watching over the front desk or even handing out fliers to neighbors she barely associated with. But there would always be exceptions. Making as much noise as possible wasn't just to drag on her neighbors nerves but also to announce her comings and goings. What a considerate neighbor she was, it was a service even she would have no problem paying for.

Humming loudly, Harley skipped up the twisting stairs. Making extra sure to be a little careful with her stomping. Soon, she found herself looking at a familiar door. The comforting scent of flora leaking itself from the door. It didn't smell like something foul or anything, it was earthy in a way that reminded her of freshly turned mulch. Or of a forest directly after it got down rain on a warm summer day.

Just as she war preparing to use the door knob like a normal, the blonde thought differently. Rearing her foot up, a solid kick aiming to knock the door off it's hinges, instead only met empty air as apartment opened it's maw. A normal person would've felt some degree of unbalance before falling painfully on their face, but if it wasn't made apparent before, Harley was no ordinary person. Instead of falling flat on her face, she instead fell into her body's momentum. Tucking her head in, she 'rolled' before popping back up to her feet with a slight bounce. Posing with her hands on her waist and chest puffed out, something she had seen those vigilante models do.

"Tada!" Harley cheered, fighting back the urge to dance in place. "I still got it!"

"I don't know." A voice holding both boredom and oozing sultry promise drawled out from the inky darkness. There, lounging in a rather comfy looking sweat pants and an oversize shirt was her good ol'pal, Red, having not moved a single inch since she had left over three hours ago. Red was a beautiful woman looking to be in her mid twenties with long strands of crimson locks that had somehow been forced into a tight ponytail, a figure to positively kill for and most importantly, forest green skin that only further fueled the rumors of her being some sort of nymph. A forest spirit of old. Something she hated being compared to, but her power set really didn't help her disprove that little rumor. "I give it an eight point seven. I saw that wobble near the end."

"I did not 'wobble'!" The blonde buffed out her chest, indignation burning bright in that stance. "And an eight point seven?! C'mon! That was at least a nine and you know it! I demand a new judge!"

"Denied."

The lazy grin that split Red's face was enough to know she was in her rare teasing moods today, normally she would've just rolled over and ignore Harley's antics. Those instances had been growing far more common as the heat subsided and the leaves outside were beginning to turn yellow.

"Will the judge bump my score up if I provide a br-" Coughing theatrically off to the side, she continued," I meant 'donation'?"

"What do you mean by donation?"

"Well…." The blonde her arm up, exposing the now depressed looking paper bag. Grease spots evident on it's creased and crumbled surface. "TADA!!"

"…." Red only looked at the rather disappointing looking 'bribe' with a quirked brow. "Your offering is acceptable."

"Nuh-huh!" Fast as lightning, the blonde pulled back just as her friends hands reached out with those grubby fingers of hers. She had been fooled by her before only once, the green skinned woman could EAT. "Not all of it! Let me just…"

With that Harley reached inside, rummaging around as the space was a lot bigger than it actually was before pulling out a single wrapped bundle with a bit of heft to it. When this particular monstrosity was being made, that poor summer child could only look on helplessly as she worked her mad genius.

"Behold!" Shoving the bundle up high, she began to sing it's praises. "I call it 'The Red Special'! Over sixteen strips of bacon, cooked in a way where there's enough surface area to be called 'bread'! Then, a slim steak seared on each side for less than ten seconds per side on the highest heat Sal's could reach! Three whole eggs scrambled together into a giant patty and finally a single strip of American Cheese!"

She knew there would be people who would've paid anything, even taking out a mortgage to borrowing money from Cobbie of all people, just to see the dreamy expression flicker across Red's face. And judging from the bobbing on the woman's neck, the allure of was growing too much. There was no reason to torture her friend, so instead she just tossed the bundle her way which got snatched up in a green blur.

Barely taking the time to unwrapped the bundle, Red bitten viciously into the bacon wrapped sandwich. Expelling a moan that would've toppled cities in the past. Collapsing into a nearby seat, Harley rummaged around in the bag loudly before pulling out her delicacy. Unwrapping the bundle with a giddy feeling welling up deep in her chest...okay her stomach, before her teeth could tear through the lightly toasted bun, a question interrupted her.

"So-" Red mumbled, her cheeks bulging as she continued to chew. "How was your run?"

"It went fine.." She pouted slightly, eyeing the steam pool up from her hands. "Al's just being a slowpoke! I think he was distracted from that case he involved himself inside of. Speaking of that, I cannot stand that woman! Like really, how big of a coward do you have to be to chicken out last minute like that?! And not even that, to leave it to a kid of all people to do for you?!"

"Oh?" Her friend quirked a brow. "You heard that much? Does he know you've been eavesdropping on his case?"

"I can't help that!" She lied. "At first I wasn't going to but then I got curios! It's like watching one of those old timey detective shows! And plus besides, he didn't even see me so it's fine!"

"Whatever you say…"

"But as I was saying! Yeah, I think he was a bit distracted this morning. I think he got too close and got burned. It happens all the time in my field, so the signs were pretty clear to me. Just gave him a bit of a pep talk before sending him on his way. I don't think it'll impact too much going further."

"...I'm guess you're not going to stop listening in?"

"What?" Now it was the blonde's turn to quirk her brow, befuddled completely by the sudden question. "No! Why would I? We can't get cable here and I'm tired of watching the same three channels!"