Clown Therapy for a Broken Eva
Characters
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Story transcript
Shinji: (Everyone melted into orange juice and it was my fault... Mother's voice saying I should just die...)
Harley: Tell me about these dreams, kid. The ones where you're holding someone's hand?
Shinji: It's not a dream. I... I killed everyone. My friends. My father. All because I wanted to run away.
Harley: (This kid's guilt runs deeper than the Gotham sewers...)
Harley: Shinji, look at me. What you experienced wasn't real. Instrumentality was a shared hallucination.
Shinji: Then why does it feel more real than this? Than sitting here in this stupid office with some clown doctor?
Harley: I may be a clown, kid, but I've seen what guilt does to people. It eats them alive from the inside.
Harley: And you're letting it win.
Shinji: (Wait... why does her prescription pad say "Property of Arkham Asylum"?)
Harley: Don't worry, sweetie. These little pills will make all those nasty thoughts go away. Doctor Quinn guarantees it.
Shinji: (Oh god... I'm not the patient with mental health issues here...)
Shinji: (Misato's lips were warm... but she was already dying... and I just stood there like a coward...)
Harley: This Misato... she kissed you before the Third Impact?
Harley: How old were you, sweetie?
Shinji: Fourteen. And Asuka... she called me disgusting. Said I was pathetic for wanting human contact.
Shinji: (She was right... I was pathetic...)
Harley: Child soldiers don't get to be children, do they? Your daddy Gendo made sure of that.
Harley: Left you drowning while he played god with the world. Misato took advantage of you too. They all put you out to face this world on your own.
Shinji: I piloted the Eva because... because if I didn't... nobody would love me...
Shinji: And when I finally had friends... I killed them all anyway...
Harley: Hey now... here, blow your nose. These aren't tears of weakness, honey. These are tears of a kid who survived a war.
Shinji: (Her wrist... is that... a faded smiley face tattoo under the lab coat?)
Harley: Now, about those anxiety meds... I'm thinking something in the benzodiazepine family might—
Shinji: (That tattoo... I've seen it before. On the Joker's henchman who tried to blow up the hospital...)
Harley: Oh sugar, you've got that look again! Like a little bird who just realized the nice lady offering breadcrumbs is actually gonna snap its neck!
Harley: Tell me, Shinji-kun... do you think Doctor Harleen Quinzel ever really left Arkham?
Shinji: This feels so invasive. I saved the world, just so they can lock me away with a clown...
Harley: Relax, sweetie! I'm not gonna hurt ya! Well, not physically anyway.
Harley: Ta-da! Surprise! Your therapist's got a PHD - Pretty Huge Daddy issues!
Shinji: Please... I just wanted help...
Harley: Hey, hey... come here. Listen to me, kid.
Harley: You were fourteen. Four-freakin-teen. You think a kid can consent to saving the world? To piloting a death machine?
Shinji: (She's... warm. Like Misato but... different. Not trying to use me.)
Harley: Besides, sweetie - if anyone's gonna break the world, it's gonna be me! You're just a kid who got handed the world's worst homework assignment.
Shinji: I... I don't understand. You're supposed to be crazy.
Harley: Shh... that's our little secret. But between you and me? Sometimes it takes one broken doll to fix another.
Harley: Here's the deal, pumpkin. Arkham's cutting me loose next week. Time served, good behavior, blah blah blah.
Harley: But I need a driver. Someone who won't ask questions when the getaway car's a stolen ice cream truck.
Shinji: You're... offering me a job? But I'm not even supposed to leave this room without supervision.
Shinji: (A real job. Not piloting. Not killing. Just... driving?)
Harley: Oh sweetie, paperwork's my middle name! Well, actually it's Frances, but that's neither here nor there.
Harley: I've got pull with the review board. They think having a "stable mentor figure" will help my rehabilitation.
Shinji: But why me? There are other patients who aren't... broken.
Shinji: (She sees something in me. Not the Third Child. Just... me.)
Harley: Kid, broken people are my specialty. And you? You're not broken. You're just... bent in interesting places.
Harley: Besides, I know what it's like when the world treats you like a weapon instead of a person.
Shinji: Okay. But no more hospitals. No more white rooms. If I'm going to be crazy, I want to at least be crazy on my own terms.
Harley: Atta boy! Now you're talking my language! Rule number one: we don't use the C-word. We're not crazy, we're creatively liberated!
Harley: Catch! Every proper henchman needs a mask. Welcome to the family, Shinji-kun.
Shinji: (The fabric feels warm. Like the Eva's entry plug, but... different. This isn't saving the world. This is just... living.)
Harley: Pack your bags, kid! We're busting outta this joint! Next stop: Gotham City, where the coffee's terrible but the therapy's to die for!
Harley: And don't worry about the orange juice incident. In our line of work, apocalypses are just Tuesday!