Darkness surrounded her. The same all consuming darkness she had been haunted by for the past several days. It could have been several days. It could have been years for all Jessica knew. Without a sun or any means to tell time she did not know just how much had passed. All she knew was that she was trapped. Trapped in the pitch black with a maniac that had previously tried to kill her, but now would not dare let her out of his sights. She may not be able to see him, but he could see her. After spending years in that changeless darkness he had become accustomed to it and his body adapted all too well. Now, when the flashlight of the guards passed over their cell the Healer groaned as if her were in pain when it passed over his form. It made Jessica remember the horror stories with vampires and other creatures of the night he brother used to tell her when she was a child, trying to scar her out of her wits. She was seemingly living in one of those said stories now. There was no chance of escape for her. The rest of her natural life would be spent in this darkness with the new man of her nightmares.

The Healer had quickly taken Andy's place as the worst person she had ever met. His mood swings were inconsistent and she had to take care of what she did. Even the slightest of movements could set him off on one of his many rants and raves, him getting so worked up his hands found their way around her small throat squeezing it tightly until her eyes watered and bulged from their sockets in a comical, yet horrifying, way. Seconds later he would be apologizing profusely and kissing the tears from her eyes trying to comfort her by any means that was in his power. His actions did little to soothe her, just sent her more on edge waiting for the moment where he would no longer be so tender, which came more and more often.

If she stayed there any longer, Jessica knew it would be the death of her, literally. With each mood swing she came that much closer to death. He strangled her longer, pushed her harder, and hit her harder. To say she was frightened would be an understatement. She was scared shitless! It was becoming too much for her to bear, way too much. Tears fell from her eyes cascading like waterfalls at the very thought of her own demise. It would not be too much longer now. Any day now and he would lose all control of himself and kill her. She just prayed that it would be a quick and painless death, as if she ever gotten anything she prayed for.

It was at that very moment that she felt the very foundation of the building shake violently. The process of her thoughts first turned to earthquake. She physically shook that thought off. Gotham never had earthquakes. There was no continental fault near the city. From the feels of the violent tremors, it had to be nothing less than an explosion or something very heavy hitting the building at a very high speed. Small pieces of dusty debris fell onto her face and she coughed quietly, hoping not to wake the man next to her, his arms wrapped tightly and possessively around her waist. Even the slightest movement normally woke the man, but it seems it was her lucky day or night. He did not even stir when the building had shook and the tiny pieces of the ceiling fluttered onto his face.

That's when she felt it. The hot wet sticky substance soaking into her clothes. Having come into contact with this substance before she knew exactly what is was. Blood. The Healer was bleeding and her heat rejoiced to a new heightened level. Most would have been disturbed at the joy that she was currently feeling about a man bleeding to death or possibly already dead. Not Jessica. It was just proof to her that there was some kind of justice in the world, no matter how morbid it was. At that moment, the only thing that upset her was the fact that the blood was now soaking into her hair. As if that mattered, she had not been able to take a shower for a few days. Grime, sweat, and dirt were caked in her hair and on her skin as well. She had never wanted to take a shower more than at that very moment. The Healer had never given her time to search the room to see if there were any means of bathing herself. For however long she had been stuck in that cell with him he had stuck to her like glue and guided her wherever she wanted to go considering she could not see a damn thing.

Sitting up stiffly, her body terribly sore from one of the man's mood swings, she glanced about the room knowing she would not be able to see anything but trying nonetheless. When the light of a flashlight clicked on Jessica nearly screamed in fright. Having not expecting anyone to be there, it was quite the scare to find out that the bleeding man next to her was not the only one keeping her company. Her heart hammered in her chest and the blood roared in her ears. Shock overwrote the fear as an all too familiar cackle reverberated across the room. "Joker?" she asked barley above the whisper. Her voice was harsh and cracked from disuse.

Placing the flashlight under his chin, Joker grinned devilishly at Jessica. The angle of the light just made the smile all the more grotesque and the hideous bumpy scars all the more noticeable. His black rimmed eyes appeared to be sunken in giving him that starved maddened man appearance. It would have frightened anyone, but at that moment she was too happy to see him to be afraid. Wow, who would have thought she would actually be gladdened to see the demented clown, even in the twisted angle of light he had placed his face above. "Who else did you think it would be?" asked he, giggling at the absurd why she had said his name.

Removing the light from his face he shown it in hers. Jessica's face was alight with a silly grin and her joy of seeing the man was made evident. Even a blind man could have seen just how happy she was that it was him. Ah, she was such a fool, but that did not matter. She would still be useful to him and he planned to use her until she no longer was just that. When that time came he would just blow out her flame of the candle off life and find something else to occupy his free time with.

As quickly as she could she clambered off of the bed, nearly falling onto her face in the process, and squeezed his midsection tightly as soon as it was in reach. "God," she started, the smile on her face evident in her voice, "I never thought this would happen, but I'm actually happy to see you." Joker greatly disliked the emphasis that she put on "you". Was he really that horrible of a person that it was inconceivable that someone would be happy to see him? Scratch that, he knew the answer to that question. No one in their right mind would be glad to see him. Fortunately for him, Jessica was not in her right mind.

Jessica pulled away from the man and he wrapped a secure arm about her shoulder leading her out of the cell. When the small beam of light from the cylinder object Joker held in his hand flashed over the entrance to the cell Jessica could see that the door was wide open and the bodies of two orderlies lay on either side of it in a mangled state. For some morbidly twisted reason it made her feel special that he had killed three people for her. Made it seem to her that he felt she was worth something more than the cheap prostitute that she had once been. Greg had made her feel the same way (shush, Jessica, don't think about him, he's not with you anymore).

They reached the top of the steps and Jessica was momentarily blinded, her eyes now unaccustomed to the harsh lighting of the asylum. When they had finally adjusted her vision came to nothing but chaos. Patients were fighting each other along with the orderlies and some doctors. Blood was splashed across the pristine white walls and floor as if someone had taken a paintbrush and splashed the walls carelessly. The patients, orderlies, and doctors were not the only ones fighting. There were a few people with clown masks on the side of the crazies. Knowing them to be Joker's men Jessica said nothing and continued to let the man lead her.

Along the way they were stopped by a few of the men in clown masks who talked to Joker in a volume so low Jessica could not make them out over the shouts and screams of the people around her. It was clear that Joker was making his escape and he was taking her with him. That fact gladdened Jessica but set her on edge as well. With her past experience with the man, she did not trust him, but she had no one else to turn to or nowhere else to go. If she wanted out of the hospital, which she did more than words could describe, she would have to blindly follow him as she had done once before.

Several minutes later, due to the many halts because of the men talking to Joker, they made it into the true source of the fray. The Rec Room was overly crowded with bodies and appeared more like a mosh pit then a fight. Bodies were mashed together in the center of the room in positions most would find uncomfortable. Just on the outskirts of the fight were the five people Jessica had become accustomed to during the duration of her stay in Arkham. Ivy, Croc, Riddler, Crane, and Mad Hatter all watched the fight with smiles on their faces. Riddler was the first to take notice of the pair and hobbled over to them. When the other realized where he was going they followed suit.

A mischievous grin formed on Joker's face. "Looks like everything is going well," he stated in his high, but somehow still manly, voice of his. Riddler nodded in agreement turning to glance at the struggling bodies momentarily the left corner of his mouth uplifted in a small smirk. He was very pleased how everything worked out perfectly.

It had been all too easy to rile the patients up. It helped greatly that Crane had found a way into the pharmacy and switched all of their medications. With Joker's charisma and his ability to get what he wanted from people, they soon started to see things differently. They were enamored by the man and wanted nothing more than his praise. The only way to get that, they saw, was to kill the very people that had oppressed him in that ghastly place. The very same people that had oppressed them as well and forced them to take medication that made them living zombies. He was just like them. Outcasts of society because he was not considered "normal". Freaks they had called them. Had labeled them "crazies". But they were not crazy. They were just different. They just had different beliefs than what was considered normal. Saw and heard things that no one else could from worlds that only they had the privilege of seeing. They were not crazy, just different, better even. Gifts upon this dull Earth to give it a little spice and flavor. To make the world a little more interesting. No, people had it all wrong. They were the special ones. They were the ones that were meant to rule the world. The ones that should be out there instead of locked in the asylum.

Joker had said this to them all. Had given them the best speech he had ever given in his life (he thought). He had been so convincing that even Riddler felt stirred by his words. His chest had swelled and his heart raced. The muscles in his body tingled ready for a fight. That man, Joker, was unbelievable. Who could have ever thought that he would be able to give such a beautiful speech laced with such pretty words? He sure as hell didn't. But he had been proven wrong, something he normally did not take well with. He let it slide that time. Being proven wrong with something like that was something he could live with.

Basking in the glories of the chaos he had created Joker unknowingly pulled Jessica closer to him and she wrapped her arms tightly around his mid section. When he glanced down at her brown hued eyes he saw her inner turmoil struggling on her face. A sadistic smirk had formed on her face but her eyes were wide with terror. The smirk would disappear and then reappear repeatedly. She was confused on how she was supposed to respond to the violent riot that was happening before her storm gray eyes. She was satisfied yet sickened by the sight of it. There was so much blood from so many different sources. It was covering the floor in large puddles and people, in their rush, kept slipping on them smearing them. But the blood is not what was bothering her. It was the screams and shouts. She could never handle people yelling. Raised voices frightened her more than the prospect of death. In her mind yelling led to pain. Pain made one do and say things that they would never say just to stop the torture. Only the truly strong could handle such a method and Jessica was not one of those people. She had always succumbed to the pain. Had always gave in and given people what they wanted.

A little whimper left her mouth and Joker decided it was time to go. He hated when she cried! He was not the type for I-hate-seeing-you-cry-because-it-hurts-me. No, it made him want to kill her. Strangle her until she stopped, though that would only make it worse. Jessica was still proving to be entertaining and he did not want to cut his fun with her short. There was still so much he had in store for her. He was not about to let all the little things in his head go to waste just because she had decided to shed a few tears.

As they walked, Jessica still clinging to the man desperately, they were stopped a few more times by Joker's men and a few of the patients who nearly got on their knees in praise of the man. Some touched him as he passed and in avertedly touched Jessica as well. She flinched every time that a hand came into contact with her body. Though Joker's arm was wrapped securely around her shoulders, only one hand that comforted her. Riddler would brush his fingers lightly on her arm as he hobbled closely behind them trying to soothe her. The contact was much needed and appreciated. There was no sexual desire conveyed in his touch, just understanding. Being a victim of abuse as well, he knew how she felt as unwanted contact happened. As a child, he had always wanted a comforting touch after his father's anger had finally worn out and he left the small boy alone, bruised and broken on the floor. Jessica knew what he was trying to do and was very grateful for it.

The contact came to an abrupt end when they exited the establishment. Several yard away a brown van sat idling patiently. It had very few rust spots and there were no windows on the sides of it. A little apprehensive of entering such a vehicle set Jessica on edge. Well, entering any vehicle made the young woman uneasy. She just did not like them. Something about the quick moving things frightened her. Maybe it was the prospect that she could die so easily in them. But, then again, she could die anywhere. She did not know the reason for her fear, but it was there nonetheless, and she pulled away from Joker and started to lag behind.

Joker had figured she would do just that. Greg had informed him of her fear of automobiles a while ago. He just clicked his tongue in disapproval and rolled his eyes. For a man with no fears it was a ridiculous notion to be frightened of a car. Jessica was going to have to get over that fear if she wanted to get out of Arkham. If she took too long, he would leave her behind and feel nothing for it. Yes, he would like to keep her around just for her fun factor, but if she could not keep up she would get left behind. That's just the way it goes.

The group reached the van without a hitch and started to clamber in one by one. Jessica had peered around Croc and felt her heart drop in the pit of her stomach. In the large van there were only two seats, the driver's seat and the passenger seat next to it, which Joker had taken. She would have to sit on the floor with the others. That meant no seat belt. She liked having a seat belt. It gave her a sense of security. Faced with the prospect of having to slide around the floor, bumping into the others, while the man in behind the wheel drove erratically, somehow she knew that he would, nearly made her turn tail and run. But she held firm, swallowing her fear. She wanted freedom more and would face anything just to get it, even riding in a vehicle with no seat belt and nothing to hold onto.

The retort of a gunshot echoed across the vast expanse of Arkham's courtyard. Jessica's breath caught in her throat and froze there, strangling her. The others had stopped what they were doing as soon as the shot was heard. Ivy, Mad Hatter, and Crane had already seated themselves in the back of the van. Riddler had been trying to climb in with the help of Croc and both had turned to peer over Jessica's head to see where the sound had come from. Trying to do the same, Jessica realized that she could not control her body. It had gone numb and she still could not breathe.

What was wrong with her? Why could she not turn her head? Why won't her body move? All these questions assaulted her mind along with one more. Why couldn't she breathe? No matter how hard she tried to inhale something stopped her. It was as if something had clogged her throat and would not let the air flow in or out.

When she finally did find the ability to breathe a searing flash of pain tore through her body and a white streaked her vision. Croc called out her name, her birth name, and she looked at him. "I," she choked out, (think I've been shot) but could manage no more. The rest of her sentence was lost and only finished in her mind. It hurt too much to talk. The blinding pain just too much for her to bear. It was torturous and she would have screamed if she could find the ability to. Finally, her brain caught up to her body and it realized that it could not longer support her weight on her numbed legs.

When her body slumped forward Croc was there to catch her. He spotted the ever growing blood stain on her back and his mind reeled on what exactly he should do. It was not until Mr. Zsasz, a gun in his right hand, showed up that some coherent thought came to him. He gently lifted Jessica into his arms, minding her injury, and handed her off to Riddler who was now seated in the van as securely as he was going to get. The man set her in between his legs and she latched onto him as if by doing so he would keep death from claiming her.

Croc turned to Mr. Zsasz so abruptly that the man jumped. Seeing the maddened look in Croc's eyes, Zsasz turned to run. His attempt was futile and Croc, with his long reach, grabbed the back of his neck halting him in mid-step. Croc spun the man around and pulled him roughly to the van, slamming his head into the sliding door with enough force to kill. Sadly, the man didn't die but went limp as he fell unconscious.

Aggravated that his attempt to kill the man failed, Croc threw Mr. Zsasz limp form into the van. If Jessica died, so too would that man. Unfortunately for him, he would live through a lot more pain than she would. A simple gunshot wound would not be the death of that man. That would be too easy, Mr. Zsasz did not deserve easy. Croc climbed into the van and slammed the door closed behind him ordering the driver to go. The driver's eyebrows rose at Croc and he was ready to argue that Croc was not his boss, but thought better of it after taking in the man's size. He put the van into gear and started to head in the direction he was instructed to.

From the back of the van Crane started to crawl forward until he reached the front passenger seat. "What are we going to do about her?" he asked Joker indicating to Jessica's now shivering form. Joker turned to look at her and then shrugged his shoulders in response to the question. Crane sighed heavily. "She's going to die if we don't get her some medical attention." This earned him another shrug from Joker.

A few moments of silence passed between the pair before Joker decided to speak. "Doc will be at the hideout." That was all he said and all that needed to be said. Greg would help her no matter how pissed off he was. He still cared for her and did not want to see her die.

"What if she doesn't make it to the hideout?"

"Then she, uh, dies."

"You'll be losing your plaything," Crane enticed.

"I'll find another one."

After that Crane stopped talking. There was no use. It was obvious that Joker did not care about the young woman. He had been hoping that he would, just to have something to hold over the man's head, but he did not get what he wanted. Joker would never care for anyone, not even himself. Turning away from the man Crane made his way, on all fours, to Jessica. "Hey," he called lightly, "how are you doing?"

Jessica burst into laughter that was cut short by a fit of coughing. A spray of bright red blood painted Riddler's shirt and the male looked horrified at the sight of it. The bullet had clipped her lung and it was slowly filling up with blood. "Not too bad," Jessica jested. "Just dying is all. No biggy."

Crane laughed lightly trying to lighten her mood. "You're just overreacting. You're not going to die," he stated in a tone that he thought was firmly.

Jessica's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'm not overreacting," she insisted though it was getting harder and harder for her to talk much less breathe. "I can feel it." Riddler shushed her and told her to save her breath. She looked up at him in annoyance, but complied nonetheless.

The rest of the drive was ridden in silence. No one knew what to say and even if they did, they would not know how to make if come out. The silence just seemed appropriate. They had almost reached their destination when Jessica's breathing started to slow drastically. She was not going to make it to the hideout. Everyone knew that and she did as well. When she felt the cold hands of death gripping tightly at her heart, she did not fight it off. There was no reason to fight it. She had accepted that she was going to die when she had first discovered that she had been shot. It was simply just her time to go.

Before her brain ceased to function she felt the beating of her heart stop. It hurt to feel her heart stop. The sensation was the single most physically painful thing she had ever felt. When her lungs stopped working, the pain grew. Her heart had stopped and on top of that she could no longer breathe. It felt as if she were drowning with a knife stuck in her chest. She was begging for her brain to hurry up and catch up with the rest of her already dead body. Praying for that release that did not seem to come. Closing her eyes she waited to slip into the darkness of death. When it did finally come she felt nothing.

Riddler was the first to know that she had passed considering that she had been clutching onto him. He had known it as soon as her hands had loosened their grip on his shirt. Glancing about the others morbidly depressed faces, he decided it best not to tell them. Let them still think that there was still a small hope that she would live. Who was he to stomp on their hopes? No one, that's who. He was just a "crazy" that had broken out of the asylum with a large group of other "crazies". People crazy enough to still believe that Jessica had had a chance. So, he kept his mouth shut until they reached their destination and still didn't say anything as he passed the girl off to someone else.

It was not until she reached Greg that they all knew she had died. The grave look on his face told them as much. He asked for them all to leave him alone and everyone complied without complaint, including Joker. Grief was a very troubling thing and something many knew about. It is an emotion that consumes the mind and, just like rage, made people do stupid things. It was best just to leave him alone. Leave him alone to wallow in his own misery. Besides, they have their own grief to deal with to be worrying about him.

Joker was the first to break the silence. "I'm leaving this city. I, uh, made up my mind on it a while ago. Let them get all comfortable and then come back when they least expect it. Come back with a bang!" With that being said he skipped to the room where Greg was in, humming a nameless tune. The others just looked back and forth at each other and decided to leave the hideout. No point in sticking around there. When Greg left the room they would no longer be welcome there. He would not want to see their faces. They could already tell that he blamed them for Jessica's death, Croc especially. The venomous glare he had sent the much larger man sent chill down Croc's spine. For the first time Croc had been afraid he was going to die.

That seemed to be the end of it all. Joker was leaving town so the city could breathe a little easier. The others would go into hiding until they felt that it was time to live freely once again. Greg would wallow in his misery. And Jessica was dead leaving her with nothing to do but rot in the ground. But that is how all stories end, with death. Death was the end of all things.

Or is it?

Author's Note:

Sadly, that is the end of Freak is an Ugly Word. I hope that all of you enjoyed it. I know that is not the ending most were hoping for, but that's how it's got to end. I hope that you have all enjoyed this story. I happen to be making another Joker story. No smut in this one, I don't think I'm very good at the whole smut thing. Get too wrapped up in the story. It just doesn't seem to work out for me. Let me know how you feel about the story as a whole. I would love to hear from all of my lovely readers. I appreciate each and every one of you. Thank you so very much for helping this story stay alive and seeing it through to the ending.

There's something my mother used to always tell me (and still does) and I feel it fitting and appropriate at the moment, "They all die in the end."