There was a heavy thud that echoed throughout the entire warehouse. Jervis nearly shot out of his chair as he turned towards the door, though it was still closed and unopened. The entrance to the warehouse was far from this room, but judging by the heavy footsteps Jonathan was sure that they would be opening the door at any time.

Only a week after an escape from Arkham and already the cursed bat or the damn police were already coming to drag him back inside. It had been only four days for Jervis, who somehow had been able to sneak past a sharper eyed set of guards. Unlike Jonathan, The Mad Hatter hadn't been quite so lucky as to escape from Arkham when the guards had been lax.

"How did they find us?" Jervis's words were barely above a whisper. In mere seconds, sweat had already begun to cover his entire face, making it seem to shimmer in the dim light. He adjusted his hat. "You said this place was forgotten, the kind of place most other super criminals wouldn't even bother to set up base in."

Jonathan bit his lip. He had thought wrong.

Or-

His face hardened. The Bat had followed him around after escapes before, hiding in the shadows. Who was to say that he hadn't done again? But then why had he waited until now to confront him?

Jonathan clenched his fists. Those were questions to be answered later.

"I have a good amount of gas on me," Jonathan said, hurrying towards the side of the room. Grabbing a briefcase, he quickly opened it and pulled one of the medical cannisters from it. "I know you brought a gun, but do you have any of your chips? If it's just a cop and not the bat then those could be useful."

Jervis smiled before reaching into one of his pockets. "I make a habit of always keeping a few with me."

They'd worked out the plan of what to do if there was an intruder long before, back before they had even managed to escape from Arkham. It had always come down to two major choices: to run or to fight. Jonathan much preferred the latter.

The footsteps came faster, moving at an almost frantic pace. Along with it came a sort of thumping, some noise that Jonathan couldn't quite identify.

"To the door," Jonathan said, ushering the other man forward. "We'll get whoever it is when they try to open the door." His fist tightened around the container.

With careful steps, Jonathan walked forward. This couldn't have been the bat, not by any means. Only a policeman would bother to make this much noise. Batman was silent, keeping his distance whenever he needed to, moving through the night as easily as the animal that bared his name.

The two stood before the door, Edward with his canister of fear gas held forward, and Jervis with his pistol held out, his finger on the trigger.

There were more footsteps, incredibly loud this time.

Jervis looked over to Jonathan, raising an eyebrow.

Jonathan shrugged. Whoever this was, they were about to get what they deserved.

There was a sharp thud, so loud that it continually rung in Jonathan's ears. It continued.

"The door-" Jervis said, but he never got the chance to finish his sentence. Reaching out his free hand, Jonathan pulled him back before he himself rushed away from the door. Only moments later did it fall, the heavy thud sending Jonathan's ears ringing.

"Edward?" Jervis asked, though Jonathan could only half hear him. He had dropped the gun to the floor when being pulled back; it lay still on the floor.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. His canister of fear gas was still held out, though his fingers never did reach down to turn it on. "Edward," he finally spoke, "you're back from your..." He paused. Edward made no reply, his glare still as deep as ever. "Your break?"

Edward just stood at the door, his cane still raised. The yellow metal glowed in the light, and Edward's grip only tightened on it. He stepped forward, right over the door he had knocked down. His footsteps were as hard as ever.

"I suppose I could ask you a riddle," Edward said, "but you two don't have the time to give me an answer. Just tell me where she is."

Silence filled the room. Edward's glare only hardened.

It had been over a year since he himself had escaped from Arkham, vanishing into the night. Months passed and he never returned. Whenever Jonathan or Jervis turned on the TV in the recreation hall, the man was never on the news. No robberies, no heists, no riddles.

"Why are you here?" Jonathan forced his voice to turn firm.

"Need I repeat myself?" With one quick motion, he knocked the canister of fear gas from Jonathan's hand with the tip of his cane, sending the canister to the floor. "Where is she?"

"She?" Jervis asked.

"Oh, I would have hoped that you too would know." He scoffed. "But you have two other girls running around for you now. Knowing you, they're probably the only women on your mind."

Jonathan looked down to the canister of fear gas on the floor. He doubted he could reach it, and his hand was still aching from where Edward had hit it. Still, he could throw a punch at him if he needed to.

Edward didn't look any different since the last time that Jonathan had seen him. He wore the same suit, which was wrinkle free and clung to him tightly. Question marks were everywhere, as if his outfit was trying to fit Jonathan's mood.

"What women?" Jervis asked. He stepped back a bit, his hands held up.

Edward snorted. "What women? Oh, just a little girl who fell down a rabbit hole and a women who, like you Jonathan, somehow finds it comfortable to wear burlap. The first one goes by Alice, though I'm sure you already know of that, Jervis." His gaze focused on Jonathan. "I always saw you as the solitary type, Jonathan. What made you want to recruit the mistress of fear?"

Jervis stared down at the newspaper again for what felt like the thousandth time. As before, the headlines had not magically changed. "The New Queens of Crime" still looked back at him in bold, black letters. Next to it was another paper, this one from just this morning. "Criminals Steal Car, Cause a Number of Accidents." Below it was a picture of an all too familiar girl.

The outfit looked the exact same as the one he had gotten in Gotham Storybook Land. There were other Alice costumes in the world - they were the simple sort to make - but this one, even when seen only in black and white, looked all too familiar. It too was Alice staring back at him, but not the one that he knew. She was angry now, a machine gun gripped in her hand as she fired from the side of the car. Driving in the front was a girl whose face was mostly hidden behind by a mask.

Becky, he thought. There had been many an hour that Jonathan had lamented on the woman. It had been easy to understand - like Alice, Becky had been smart, gifted, sympathetic, and different. Though she had tried to deny it, Jonathan had seen that difference in her.

Back then, he had cried along with Jonathan as he recounted his tale.

Now, the two could only stare at the photos with wide eyes.

At least things were better. Edward had accepted the tea that Jervis had offered, though he had yet to actually take a sip from it. Even with his mask on, his eyes were sharp and piercing. His gaze was as hard as ever.

The door was crushed on the floor, Edward's tea was getting cold, and the three sat huddled together around the small table centered in the middle of the room.

Yes, Jervis supposed that things could still be worse.

"What I don't get," Jonathan said, his brow wrinkling, "is what this has to do with you."

"Did you even read the full articles?" With a sigh, Edward ran his finger below a few words on the second article.

Jonathan pushed his glasses further up his nose. "'As Harleen Quinzel and Pamela Isley were preparing to head for an outing, Emily in tow, when the two were approached by Gotham's newest criminals. When asked if they would like to join in on, as Isley reported, 'a little fun', the two refused. Upon doing so, Alice, as Isley too reported, pulled out a gun and fired at the plain clothed Quinzel. After this, the two rushed into the car and drove off. In the back of the seat was a baby, strapped inside to a child seat and ready to go on the outing as well.'" Jonathan raised an eyebrow only after he had finished reading off the article aloud. "Did Harley or Ivy ask you to come confront us about the shooting?"

Edward shook his head. "Harley could be worse, but it's still a shame that she had to be taken to the hospital. Even though neither she nor Ivy had made the news lately, they're still looked at as freaks by the Gotham Hospital staff." Edward leaned forward. "Though that's hardly the only reason I came."

The silence, which lasted for what seemed like achingly slow hours, was only broken when Edward finally pulled some papers from one of the pockets on his suit. He held them out.

One showed a baby, clutching at pieces of a large jigsaw puzzle. She wore a diaper and a small green shirt, her eyes curiously locked on the camera. Though she had little hair, what had grown was a bright red color. Another picture showed the girl sitting in a high chair with food, likely fruit, smeared across her face. Her shirt was visible, the words "Daddy's Little Girl" printed in bright letters. It looked like something one would find in the baby clothes aisle of any stores, which was the last place that Jervis, and likely Jonathan as well, would have expected to find Edward inside of. The final of the three pictures showed Edward, dressed in plain clothes, holding the child up and grinning from ear to ear. The child in turn was reaching out towards him with small, chubby hands.

"I had to take a paternity leave from crime fighting." He tapped his fingers against the table, his eyes constantly moving from the photos and back to the face of the two men before him. "With little Emily around and only me to take care of her, I had to devote much of my time to looking after her. It was certainly a surprise to have her to greet me so shortly after I left Arkham. Still, a man cannot live forever. Someone must take after him when he is gone; riddles can be asked for ages, but it must continually be asked for another."

"The baby in the car," Jervis said. He shakily raised the cup of tea to his lips and took a sip. It did nothing to stop the sudden dryness in his throat. "She's yours."

Edward smirked. "Someone's finally managing to put the puzzle pieces together."

"Why was she in the car?" Jonathan's tone was monotone, his eyes having lost their emotion. His mouth was a thin, straight line.

"A man needs a break," Edward replied. "Parenting can be tiring work. Besides, I wanted to make sure that little Emily had a few female role models to look up to. Harley and Ivy were glad to fill those roles, and babysit too."

"Role models?" Jonathan snorted. "They're criminals and regular Arkham inmates!"

"You hypocrites!" Edward's voice filled the room, and Jervis held his hands up to his ears. "Do you honestly believe that I can call up Wonder Woman or Batgirl to look after her while I go rob a bank? Do you think that they'll just stand by and watch as I rob a bank to get diaper money and the cash to pay off the price of tickets to amusement parks that I'm taking her to in a few years? Do you think that any of them would accept stolen hundreds to thank them for their service?" He reached out and grabbed the neck of Jonathan's shirt. As he leaned across the table, both his and Jervis's cup of tea spilled, drenching the newspapers and family photos. "Last time I checked, you two weren't good role models either and yet you managed to inspire the two women that took off with my daughter yesterday and tried to shoot half the city in the process."

Jonathan wiggled under the man's hold, thrashing around like a fish that had suddenly hit the surface.

In turn, Edward slammed against the table, sending it, Jonathan, and Jervis to the floor. The breath was knocked out of Jervis, and before he could get it back there was a heavy foot covering the upper part of his chest and part of his throat.

Amidst the table getting knocked over, Edward had not only managed to grab his cane in one hand, but also a gun, likely from one of the many hidden pockets in his suit.

"Riddle me this," he said, standing over the two, one foot on each of the men. His shoes alone, though shiny and made in the professional style, felt as if they were made of steel. They were bad enough, but Edward's weight was held on him along with the end of his cane. "What do you think that I'm going to do to you two?"

"Edward," Jervis said. "We can-"

"You two can what?" He looked from Jonathan to Jervis and then back. "That's not how the answer to my question goes."

Jervis's heart thrashed in his chest, sudden and loud, just like Edward's footsteps had been when he had first entered the hideout. He had thought that it was a policeman entering, someone easy to take down. Someone who at least had some restraint.

At this point, it looked like Edward had thrown all caution to the wind. A bullet would be quick, but judging by the way he held his cane he looked as if he might throw a few blows the skull.

"Edward, we didn't know about those two," Jonathan rasped. "We just got out of Arkham and had no idea what to do beyond getting ourselves prepared. We hardly knew what the rest of the city was doing."

"And you think that's a valid excuse?" He grinned. "The news hardly thinks so, and Harley and Ivy don't either." He held the gun up to where it wasn't pointed at either of them. "Ivy's already told me that she's ready to turn you two into plant food. She's always been protective of Harley, and she rather likes little Emily. If Harley weren't about to get surgery to get a bullet removed then she would probably have broken down your door as well."

He leaned down, his face hovering below their faces and the gun again turning towards them. Somehow, his feet got heavier.

Air, air, air-

Oh, Jervis could get so little air.

"Part of me wants to see you two lying on the floor, still as death. But we are friends, and I don't know what I would have done for many of those dark Arkham days if I hadn't had you two around as company." His grin faded. "So I'll give you two a chance to go get little Emily back for me. It's certainly your problem to deal with." He paused for a moment, his brows lowering. "And I'd hurry to face the women. I managed to track you down first, but I know that the two are in hot pursuit as well. In fact, the entire city is after you, but I doubt that any are looking quite as hard as those two." He stepped off the two. "You two know what I want. Get Emily back and I just might help you later. Might, of course."

Alice had been glaring at the newspaper for what felt like hours. Becky read the article once more, less than ten sentences and probably even less than one-hundred-fifty words. It was tucked away in a small section of the newspaper, a little section that most readers would probably look past without even noticing,

"He got out yesterday," Alice repeated. She had said it before, though phrased slightly different. "No one knows how, but he got out." Her blue eyes were icy and the hand that was not clutching the newspaper was gripping her coffee cup so hard that her fist had turned bone white.

Becky merely raised an eyebrow. They shared more than just experiences, but a silence that seemed to say everything. She hadn't spoken a word since she finished making breakfast that morning and Alice had gone to pick up the newspaper from their door.

Alice looked to her and nodded.

"I'll get my costume ready." Becky paused for a moment, picking up the small bit of her bagel that still hadn't been eaten. "But first, let's wait until tomorrow. If they catch him today then there's no point in going out yet."

Alice nodded again.

They had agreed, of course, that of they ever did do it that they would do it only when both were out of Arkham.

Still, even with the police out looking for him, she couldn't help but think of the costume waiting in her closet. She used to not understand why she had kept it. Now, she could only wonder if her past self had somehow known unconsciously that a day like this would come.

She could still remember the news that she had seen a few days before on TV. "Scarecrow Out of Arkham" the TV screen had said while a female reporter recounted how he had escaped. An image of Jonathan had appeared on the screen without his mask. Before, she would have shuddered.

Alice had to keep her from spitting on the TV screen.

Jervis's jaw looked ready to hit the floor as he glared at the small TV screen. Jonathan's face was blank, his eyes merely taking in the news article.

"Alice Pleasance was actually seen in court a year and a half before," the female news reporter continued. "Her ex-husband, Billy Watson, was arrested on domestic violence charges after neighbor's called the police a few months earlier to report what they described as blood-curdling screams."

An image appeared on the screen of Alice, the very same Alice that Jervis had always described to him. His words had been poetic, making her sound more like a goddess than a person.

Jonathan doubted that any famous painter depicted their female deities covered in bruises.

Jervis gasped and then looked ready to lunge at the TV screen. He almost did, before the image changed to a video of an all too familiar court room, one that Jonathan himself had been tried in once. The video changed to policemen walking the handcuffed Billy from the courtroom to a police car.

"This was not the only incident," the female news reporter continued. "Neighbors from their apartment building reported hearing Billy yell, often late into the night, and hearing noises that sounded anywhere from smacks to crying."

The video again changed, showing a dark skinned woman. "My partner and I had heard the cries a number of times but always been unsure whether or not to call. It seemed like the entire floor thought the same. Though I'm glad that I finally called the police when I did, I can't help but wish that I had done it sooner."

Again, the screen cut back to the female news reporter. "Now, Alice Pleasance is again making headlines. Though she has been identified, we have yet to hear news of who this so-called mistress of fear exactly is. Authorities are worried about the two, as though they have been chased by numerous policemen, none even had the slightest chance to steal the girls."

Another image appeared on the screen, again of the stolen car. This was different from the picture the newspaper had, as the car was showed on its side and was slowly closing up on a small figure sitting in the back. Though it wasn't the best photo, Jonathan could still make out the child's bright red hair. Even in a seat more the baby's size, she still looked so tiny. Judging by the picture, she was crying.

"There have been reports of a child, whose identity has yet to be confirmed, being in the back of the car. Though there have been no deaths reported yet, there have been some injuries. From grand theft auto to kidnapping, these two women have already made their stamp on Gotham in a short time. This is Carla Rodriquez and this is Gotham City News at Seven signing out."

Jonathan clicked off the TV.

"That rat!" Jervis rapidly clenched and unclenched his fist. "That vicious, selfish, monstrous little rat! I always knew there was a good reason to hate that Billy! If I had been able to get to him I would have made him hurt all over!"

Jonathan merely stared at the blank TV screen. There was no doubting that was Becky. He knew her too well, her features memorized into his mind.

He'd always wanted to see her in that suit, hear her call herself the mistress of fear. But she'd been adamant that the two were different, that she could never be like him.

Part of him wanted to smile; he had been right, she truly was like him and all of his Arkham comrades.

Instead, he had to force his head away from the screen.

"Alice, have you ever shot a gun before?"

Alice looked up from the money that she had been counting. The silence of the room had been broken. Becky stood above her, still dressed in her costume, though her mask and hat were off.

She nodded. "I was the one who fired at Harley and those people today."

Becky sighed. "I know that, but you missed a lot of them. Bullets hit windows, but they barely grazed anyone. Even then, you just got a bunch of elbows and shoulders." She stepped forward, her cane tapping as it hit the floor. "You even fired at Harley's arm - her arm. Why there of all places?"

Alice bit her lip, looking away from her friend. "Becky, you said that this was going to be just between us and The Scarecrow and The Mad Hatter. I didn't think that we'd be stealing cars, robbing banks, shooting at the city, and..." She pointed across the room to where an infant, someone's little girl (someone who, Alice thought, probably was desperate to have her back), lay sleeping. How she had managed to fall asleep, Alice would never know. She had spent most of the day bawling, her cries just another noise as the two raced across the city, breaking every speed limit imaginable and firing at random people, people who had families and friends and lives. People that just wanted to enjoy their day, not get shot and run the risk of dying.

She turned away from the other woman.

"You never said we were going to hurt other people, Becky. We kidnapped a kid, I shot a lady up close, and then fired at who knows how many other people. Now you're wondering why I didn't shoot them in the head?"

"I never said that you needed to."

"Why else would you be asking if I fired a gun?" Tears burned at her eyes, hot and salty. She didn't know what a bullet felt like, but she knew how cold the barrel of a gun was to the head. What had possessed Billy to almost pull the trigger? What if he really had?

That pain had been unimaginable, and she had put that pain onto so many innocents.

"If you want me to kill somebody then you have to find somebody else." Alice clutched her arms at her sides, hugging herself. "Because you're sure as hell not getting me to do it." She had tried to fire away from the people, she really had. Still, some of them had still managed to get hurt, and all because Alice had tried to aim at anything but the people and yet somehow grazed their skin.

"I-" Becky began. "I don't need you to do that, and I'm sorry that you had to do that today. Even I don't want something like that to happen. Like I said, this was just to get Jervis and Jonathan's attention. Once they confront us, once we finally deal with them, then you won't ever have to do those kinds of things again."

Alice dropped the money to the floor and stood up. Her eyes wondered over to the baby. She would probably be up again soon, whether over her diaper or because she wanted food. She'd fed her a bit of milk before out of a cup. There had been nothing else to use, and in the end she'd had to clean the kid up as well.

"You better be right, Becky."