Dr. Quinzel no more.

It didn't immediately dawn on the young doctor that the course was about to shift, and when realization finally struck, the Joker had already freed her of her access card. Harley's eyes shot down and then instantly back to him again, confusion written across her face. "Wait! What?!" The desperate protest was easily heard in her voice, though it was quickly silenced by the sting of the slap. She briefly closed her eyes and whimpered, placing her fingertips against the warmed and certainly reddened skin, before she watched him move away from her and make his way to the door, tears filling her eyes when she heard the familiar beep and he flung open the door. He was leaving her. 

Only minutes before, she had been caught up in the rush of passion, but now an unbearable anguish clouded her desire. She'd been had, and now there was nothing but pain and emptiness. How could he do this to her? Harley had been so certain that there was something there. That beyond the laughter, beyond the games, beyond the sadistic pleasure he took in tormenting her, she meant something more to him than a pawn. She studied him. She knew him. She knew him. How could she have been so wrong?

In that moment, as Joker's plan was being executed and chaos erupted out in the halls, Harley's world was crumbling around her. It was over. Her life was over. She needed him and yet he carelessly abandoned her. And then suddenly, in the midst of her down spiral, his last words to her came to the forefront.

"Try to HELP out, dearest."

Help.

"He's not..." was all she could get out before she heard the gunshot. Harley sharply gasped, her blue eyes widening, terrified that he'd been shot. "No!" she cried out and rushed forward, but the screams of the other doctors told her that the victim must be someone else. Halfway to the door, she heard his voice and the sound of glass breaking. The blonde was taking cautious steps out into the hall when the clown beckoned her. It was strangely comforting when he spoke her name and she complied without hesitation by immediately walking to where he stood. 

Instantly oblivious to what was going on as she stood so close to him once more, Harley stared up at the Joker adoringly, taking in every detail of his painted face, barely feeling the once cold, but now heated form of the gun against her palm and fingers. She hung onto every word he said, letting them sink in, until she realized exactly what it was that he was telling her to do. With her gaze locked to his, her blue eyes slowly widened. Harley fully understood what he expected of her, but being faced with the reality is far more challenging than entertaining a fantasy. This was the moment of truth and she wasn't entirely certain that she was up to the task.

These people were her colleagues and no matter how much she felt that they stood in the way of what he wanted, of what she wanted, she had never taken a life. But he expected her to follow through and she didn't want to disappoint him. After all, he had given her a precious gift. He chose her to do this for him and she not only wanted to prove her loyalty, she needed to.

Harley's hand trembled as she raised the gun and pointed it towards the first doctor. It was hard for her to disregard the look of fear and shock in their eyes, and the disbelief that this pleasant, pretty and seemingly fragile young woman would be capable of such a heinous act. 

"Dr. Quinzel?" the first one questioned meekly, but Harley pulled the trigger before he could say anything else. She flinched at the sound, watched the lifeless body fall to the floor and swallowed. There, she did it. One down, two to go. Harley's heart was racing and regret was beginning to creep in, but she couldn't let it surface, and she didn't want to take the chance that she would change her mind, so she raised the gun a second time. There was no turning back now, anyway.

Still frozen in place, the second doctor tried to reason with her. "Dr. Q-quinzel. T-t-his i-isn't you. Y-you're not... you're not... l-like... h-h-him."

Harley took a deep breath and somewhere deep inside her mind, she forced a distance between compassion and need. A part of the woman she had been, died that moment, but another vessel took its place, even if she didn't realize it yet. She looked confused by the other doctors' words, and almost like she was insulted.