Cassidy fell hard on the gravel, landing on her side with her head curled into her chest.

"Good," Aaron said, nodding as he approached. "Curl up, don't let your head hit the ground"

Pain hit her shoulder, and she instinctively reached for it.

She flinched when Aaron's arm lunged out from behind, his hook aimed inches away from her neck.

"Never look away from an attacker"

Aaron loosened his grip and stood over her.

"You don't know what they're gonna do to you- it's suicide"

Cassidy stayed there, looking up as he reached out his hand.

"Let's try again".

///

Holding her arm like a sling, Cassidy limped along the 2nd Floor.

The pain had settled. But the embarrassment hadn't.

You idiot!

Cassidy scolded herself as she made her way toward the med unit. The training wasn't particularly bad, but it didn't help that she kept getting distracted. About her father. The argument.

Why did she always have the urge to call him? Why couldn't she focus on-

Clip. Clop.

Footsteps approached Cassidy from behind-

She turned fast, expecting to see nothing, the same as what she felt by the elevator.

But down the hallway, something was there.

A shadow.

Willowy, it lingered behind the corner, enough for Cassidy to see its small-headed silhouette. The rest of its shape stretched out, trailing to the ground. A long skirt, or dress, by the look of it.

Stranger still- whoever's shadow that it belonged to- they weren't moving. Not at all.

"Dat's it! Get him! Finish him off!"

Cassidy jumped, hearing loud voices shouting in one of the rooms nearby, and the worrying sound of a struggle. A fight.

And before she could make a move, the shadow down the hallway had vanished. So she forgot about it.

She barged through the door closest to her, bemused when she realized where she had entered.

The Games Room; crammed with foosball tables and board games on the shelves.

She looked down, embarrassed, but glad that only one or two inmates had even registered that she had come in, and they didn't pay attention for long.

The source of the yelling was easy to spot, as most of the others were completely placid in comparison. Arnold Wesker; a frail man, with geeky spectacles covering the bushy hair at both sides of his head. His companion, Scarface; a ventriloquist dummy, looked like he walked out of a '40s gangster film, complete with a striped suit and a scar by his eye.

They were playing table tennis, or only Arnold was, as Scarface sat on his left hand, yelling at him with every breath.

"Whattaya doin'?! Get past-"

The ball was too fast and bounced past them before Arnold could hit it. Scarface groaned, and smacked Arnold with the bat.

The ventriloquist seemed to puppeteer the dummy as if it were calling the shots.

Cassidy walked toward them in curiosity, completely oblivious to the player opposite, who had noticed her with excitement.

"You!"

She fixed her blank gaze on the inmate running toward her, until memories of the cafeteria incident flooded in.

The frightened inmate behind the table. The one she saved. It was him.

Jervis Tetch.

Scrawny, with buck teeth and eyebrows that sprouted out as much as his untamed hair.

"How lovely it is to see you again! Come, you must join us for tea!" Jervis said with an eloquent flair as he shook her hand.

Arnold reclined Scarface on the table, who studied Cassidy with detachment.

"So, you're da one moptop's been going on about?"

Cassidy looked at Scarface, confused.

"Huh?"

"Not moptop, if you please" Jervis groaned, turning back to Cassidy with a bow. "Jervis Tetch- at your service"

Scarface pointed at himself, and then at his partner, who shriveled back.

"The name's Scarface- I'm the boss around 'ere. And this dum-dum for brains is Arnold, he don' talk much, so don' bother him".

Cassidy didn't quite know what to make of it, so she nodded as well as she could, speaking to all in turn.

"Cassidy. Uh... Nice to meet you"

Before she could say another word, Jervis linked his arm to hers, leading her toward the tennis board.

"I must say- that performance in the cafeteria was gallant! Truly! Like my Alice- but your hair is too short... and not the right shade"

"Don' listen to him, he's nuts! They all are!" Scarface interrupted. "Just look at Shirley Temple over there!"

Scarface pointed to a figure playing with a toy set. Mary Dahl; an inmate with a toddler-like stature and pudgy face, with bows tied in her ringlet curls. She could have been mistaken for a child until she sneered at Scarface with worn, tired eyes that looked 30 years older than the rest of her.

She put her middle finger up at him, and he scowled back, mumbling something under his breath.

"Ah. Not 'Nuts'- Mad. There is a difference"

Jervis replied, unaware that the puppet was no longer listening, and turned back to Cassidy.

"But you should know- you're mad too!"

Hearing this, Cassidy tensed up, digging her nails into her palms.

"I- I'm not mad..."

"Oh, but you must be! Jervis said, wagging his finger. "Or you wouldn't have come here"

Cassidy turned away from Jervis to look at the room, and then down at herself. Lost for words.

///

"Well, Jerv has a point-" Joker cackled "- Better to be mad in Arkham! All the 'normies' end up crippled or dead- like your poor Grandpa"

Cassidy shivered, sitting on the floor with her knees cradled to her chest.

"... Do you... Do you know what happened to him? Why he..."

"Oh, just rumors; a couple of bad days, who's to say? The good doctor had plenty of those- among other things... people like to gossip"

Joker grinned at Cassidy, circling her from the other side of the glass like a vulture.

"Everyone's talking about you now. Oh yes. Wondering lots of things; about your family..." Joker said, looking her up and down. "What's under that pretty hair of yours..."

Cassidy ducked her head, refixing her fringe as if she feared he could see underneath.

"Aww, there's nothing to be embarrassed about! You can show Uncle J!"

"I... I don't..." Cassidy squirmed "... You... Wouldn't like me anymore"

"Sure I will!"

Cassidy stayed silent for a few moments, failing to keep her legs from shaking.

"Come on- I promise I won't laugh! Scouts honor!" Joker said, holding up his hand in a salute.

Cassidy tried to think. But nothing. The pressure was too great, and so she gave in.

With a painful breath, she brushed the fringe off her face.

Joker watched with curiosity. Then, as he saw her, the melted fragment where her right eye had been- he whistled. Not in a derogatory way, but as if he could not believe what he was seeing.

"Well, knock me out with a crowbar! Look at you!"

Cassidy glanced at the floor, vulnerable and exposed as if she were stark naked in front of him.

"A bonafide survivor! No doubt about it! And so few of 'em nowadays... alive that is"

Cassidy scoffed, lowering her head to her knees.

"... I'm a freak..."

Joker's expression softened. For a second, there was a twinge of pity- something which he immediately brushed off.

He knelt to her height, gentle words flowing from his lips. Clever. Rehearsed.

"No no no, I've seen plenty of freaks in my time- believe me. But you- you're beautiful! One of a kind!"

Cassidy was in shock. There was no way she could have processed that. 'Beautiful'.

He smiled back at her, with enough of his teeth showing to make it appear genuine. But it was all an act.

"Never hide who you are, my dear. Not from anyone. None of my friends do! They- ehh..."

Joker leaned past Cassidy to the cell opposite him, sighing.

"Not that I've got many left around here..."

Cassidy looked behind her, following Joker's gaze. Waylon Jones's cell; evident by the wrist and ankle chains hooked onto the walls, rusted with old blood as if someone had wriggled through them.

"... How long's he been missing?"

"Oh, Croc? Well, I wouldn't say 'missing', just in the sewers somewhere. Him and the Ice Cream Cone have been gone for months. Not even Batsy's seen a peep of 'em- and they don't exactly blend in the crowd easily" Joker exclaimed, pointing at himself. "And that's coming from me!"

His chuckle was goofy, infectious. It made Cassidy smile, shy at first, stealing glances at him until her laughter matched his.

The space filled between them as if there was nothing there.

A/N: "But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked. "Oh you can't help that," said the cat "We're all mad here."- Lewis Carrol: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland