"Alert, all staff and personnel. High-level patient arriving at Arkham. All personnel with security clearance level below A, please leave the Medical Center immediately. All senior medical staff, report to patient intake."

All senior medical staff meant just Dr. Penelope Young that night. Or rather, that early morning. She had been working overnight in her office again, and was sure she had been on the verge of a breakthrough with her formula when the call had come in. After six weeks and as many incidents, Edward Nigma had been apprehended. Now, Dr. Young was reviewing his case history in patient intake, waiting until it was deemed safe for her to conduct his intake interview.

It wasn't an assignment she was looking forward to. More than any other patient in Arkham, Edward Nigma frustrated her. He had long been believed to be one of the healthier of the inmates at the Asylum, psychologically speaking. He'd never been violent in the ways that Joker was, or motivated by pure sadism like Victor Zsasz. His obsessive compulsive disorder could be debilitating, but manageable given the right treatment. The greatest obstacle to his treatment, in Dr. Young's opinion, was his own acerbic, narcissistic personality, which repelled even the most patient among them. Still, the doctors had had hope, her included. Dr. Young had more than once voiced the belief that out of all of the so-called Rogues Gallery, Nigma had the greatest potential for reform.

At some point, however, something had changed.

No one was quite sure when it had happened or why, but if Dr. Young could pinpoint a moment, she would have picked an incident over a year prior. Batman had come to visit him in the asylum after some scheme Nigma had been involved in. No one knew what had been said in that meeting, but it had ended with Nigma unconscious and bleeding on the cell floor. Since then, he had only become more single-minded in his determination to best Batman, abandoning any pretense of a friendly rivalry with the vigilante. As far as she knew, Nigma had never spoken to anyone about that conversation. Whenever she had asked in their therapy meetings, he had become so agitated that the entire sessions were compromised and he had to be sedated before being dragged back to his cell.

It had finally gotten to the point where she had requested his care be transferred to Dr. Whistler. She could no longer waste time trying to defuse his tantrums when she had tangible progress with TITAN. It should be Dr. Whistler here conducting this interview, she thought bitterly, but she still had a professional obligation to treat Nigma, so here she was.

"Dr. Young?"

She looked up from her notes to see Aaron Cash.

"They're ready for you."

Cash escorted her down the hallway towards the interview room. Even from a distance, Dr. Young could see the armed guards still waiting outside the door.

"How is he?" she asked.

Cash shook his head. "Not good. Batman messed him up a bit, not that he didn't have it coming. He really did a number on that guy in the subway."

Dr. Young nodded. That was the most disconcerting change of all. The more Batman had bested him, the more Nigma had upped the ante by using people as bait in his 'games' against the Dark Knight. They'd all been saved up to this point, but it was only a matter of time before someone died. At this rate, maybe even Nigma himself.

Finally, they reached the door. "I'm here to conduct the patient interview for Edward Nigma."

The guards at the door nodded, then stepped aside to give her access. "We'll be right outside. Holler if you need anything."

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary."

Before she opened the door, Cash put a hand on her shoulder.

"Be careful Doc. He's changed a lot since you've last seen him."

Dr. Young appreciated the concern, but shook his hand off just the same. "I'm not afraid of Edward Nigma." And with that, she entered the room, shutting the door behind her.

For the first time in over half a year, Dr. Young was face to face with Edward Nigma. They'd taken away his hat and cane, of course and he was dressed in the orange Arkham jumpsuit that was given to all patients. His hands were shackled in front of him and Dr. Young assumed his feet were too, which wasn't much comfort to her, considering what a renowned escape artist he was. He'd been lying with his head down on the table until he'd heard her come in and then lifted his head. It took all of her professional training for her not to gasp in shock at his appearance. Not so much the dark bruises that adorned his face, courtesy of Batman, but by how rundown and, for lack of a better term, haggard he looked. Nigma had always taken such pride in his appearance, but his usually slicked back hair was loose and was a dull auburn color. He had a layer of stubble on his face, indicating to her that his personal grooming was no longer a priority for him. Most disturbingly, he'd lost a considerable amount of weight since she'd seen him last. His cheeks were sunken in, exaggerating his already sharp facial features.

While she'd been taking in his appearance, Edward hadn't said a word. It took a moment for Dr. Young to realize that he was looking at her and...smiling. Either he had already figured out a plan of attack for their session, or he was genuinely happy to see her. Dr. Young wasn't sure which the worst option was. She sat down in the chair opposite from Nigma and placed her tape recorder on the table. Taking a breath, she pressed the play button.

"Taped Patient Interview #77. Patient's name is Edward Nigma, also known as the Riddler. In lieu of his regular Dry, Gretchen Whistler, Dr. Penelope Young is conducting this interview."

"And good morning to you too, Dr. Young. Long time no see." Edward said, almost cheerfully. Dr. Young narrowed her eyes at him. So, he'd decided to be charming. That never lasted very long.

"So Edward, here we are. Again."

"Still as personable as ever, I see."

"This isn't a social visit, Edward. We need to talk about what happened."

Edward let out a dramatic sigh. "If we must."

Penelope read over the police report. "You escaped from Arkham six weeks ago and had been leaving your usual clues for Batman to solve, which led up to you using one of your own henchmen as bait in a rigged subway car."

"Oh, you make it sound so terrible. From your tone of voice, one would think I'd held a room of babies at gunpoint."

"Edward. The man nearly died."

"I like to think of it as Darwin's theory of Natural Selection in action. The man stupid enough to misplace his criminal employer's riddles is the man who doesn't get to spread his moronic genes to the next generation."

Dr. Young wasn't amused by how blasé Nigma was about his actions. It was unprofessional of her, but she couldn't resist puncturing that ego a bit.

"Well then, it seems Batman trumps Darwin. He managed to bring you back without any casualties."

Edward's smile died and his face took on a wrathful expression. "I had him. I had him this time! There's no way he could have solved it! He cheated! He always cheats!"

Well, that had been a mistake. Dr. Young had to put an end to this tantrum quick if this session was going to go anywhere. "Edward. This obsession of yours has gotten out of control. You need to stop this."

Nigma glared at her then. "You're one of the only people in this cesspool who has a chance of keeping up with me, so I'll forgive you this once. But don't ever presume to tell me what I need Dr. Young."

Undaunted, Dr. Young pressed on. "Let's try looking at this from a personal angle. Have you looked at yourself recently?"

"I'd like to see how you look after going a few rounds with a thug dressed like a Bat."

"Be serious, Edward. I've looked over your case notes from your sessions with Dr. Whistler. You barely sleep when you're in Arkham. You clearly haven't been taking care of yourself when you're in Gotham. In fact, " she paused for a moment to look over the notes. "Dr. Whistler wrote that the previous time you escaped, you were apprehended before you could put any plan into action because you had spent three nights straight scrawling riddles on the walls of your hideout."

Edward's face had changed expression from anger to boredom. "Is there a point to this?"

"Aren't you just a little bit concerned?"

Edward's mood shifted again. "What concerns me, Dr. Young, is that this city, after every opportunity I've given it, still refuses to understand what a fraud their so-called savior is." His voice had risen in volume and was wavering now, matching the manic expression on his face. Dr. Young watched with caution, grateful that he was shackled. "I'm the only one in this entire building who understands what he is. Who he is. And no matter how long it takes, I'll make you all see it!" He was shouting now. "I'll prove to you what a self-serving, hypocritical criminal he is! And everyone will know who Gotham's mental superior really is!"

In past sessions, this had been the point where Dr. Young would call the guards and terminate, but tonight, she saw an opening.

"And then what?" she asked.

Nigma stopped mid-rant and looked at her with a quizzical expression on her face. "What?"

There it was. An opportunity to bring him back to some semblance of reality. Dr. Young continued, not wanting to waste it.

"Say you finally defeat Batman. You prove once and for all that you're his intellectual superior. Maybe you even kill him. Then what? What does the life of Edward Nigma look like after that?"

Nigma raised a finger as if to say something, but nothing came.

"Would you be happy? Would you be able to move on in your life? You've been criminally active for over ten years. And what do you have to show for it? You don't think twice about killing people anymore, you've burned your bridges with nearly everyone in your peer group-"

"I don't need peers. Maybe we cooperated occasionally, but they are not my friends."

"And Deirdre and Nina? They were loyal to you for years, and yet according to these case notes, even they won't work with you anymore."

Nigma's face darkened at the mention of his former hench girls, but he said nothing.

"You can't even take care of yourself anymore. Even if you did defeat Batman, what do you have in your life to go back to after that? What would stop you from simply repeating your habits with Batman with some other person you want to test your intelligence against?" Dr. Young paused to consider her next words. What she had to say next could set off another meltdown.

"You're mentally ill Edward. I don't doubt that your history with Batman has aggravated your health, but you were unwell before Batman and you'll continue to be unwell even if he dropped dead tomorrow."

Nigma simply sat there, with a sullen expression on his face. Dr. Young lowered her tone. "It's not too late for you, Edward. If you let me, I can help you."

"Is that you want?" he asked her, almost plaintively. "To help me?"

Dr. Young felt a faint glimmer of hope. Maybe she had finally reached him. Maybe he wouldn't even need TITAN. "Yes Edward. That's all any of us here want."

Edward looked at her for a moment, studying her. Then, he began to laugh and all of Dr. Young's hope died.

"Forgive me, Dr. Young," he said. "But if how you've been treating poor Bane is any indication, I don't think I want your help."

Dr. Young gaped at him. "How do-"

"How do I know that you've been reverse engineering his venom formula? Or that your 'mysterious' benefactor arranged for him to be moved here from Blackgate to further your experiments?" He had a condescending smile on his face, with his hands propped up under his chin. "There's very little that goes on in this asylum that I don't know about, even if I'm not always present. I'm not so far gone as you might like to think."

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She'd been so close to actually reaching him. "Edward, I don't know how you found out, but that has nothing to do with you-"

"Maybe not. But it is going to make life here a little too...chaotic for my liking."

"What are you talking about?"

Nigma looked at her as if she were a child.

"You really don't know, do you?"

"Know what? Edward, if you have something to tell me-"

"Riddle me this, Dr. Young," he interrupted. "Who is Jack White?"

Before Dr. Young could even begin to formulate an answer, the door opened. She quickly turned off the tape recorder before whirling around to confront the intruder.

"We're in a session!" she snapped.

The guard looked at her apologetically. "Sorry, Doc. Warden's orders. Nigma's to go back to his cell." Then he and another guard walked in and escorted Nigma out. As they walked past her, Nigma leaned in towards her one last time.

"Thank about it, Dr. Young. The truth's staring you right in the face."

"That's enough, Nigma!" Cash shouted as he shoved him down the hallway. "Time to settle down."

When they had left, Dr. Young let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. She almost jumped when an orderly approached her.

"Are you alright, Dr. Young? Your hands are shaking."

Dr. Young looked down. She was indeed trembling. When had Nigma been able to get under her skin like that? She quickly wrote down some lines on her prescription pad and shoved it at the hapless orderly.

"Take this to the pharmacy and have it filled out. I need to get back to my office." Before the orderly could reply, she took off towards Arkham mansion.

Later that night, Dr. Young wrote the following in her notebook:

My earlier opinion hasn't changed. I believe that conventional therapy has gone as far as it can with Edward Nigma. His compulsions have reached the point where he has no regard for his own life, let alone the lives of others. At this point, I feel that the best chance he has to overcome this is with the TITAN formula. Now more than ever, I need to see this process through. Lives at are stake.

For a moment, she thought of the question he'd asked her about Jack White, but she pushed it out of her mind, along with his needling her about her experiments. It wasn't the first time he'd tried to undermine her during a session, but it would be the last. She was sure of that.

She would never know what effect TITAN would have had on Edward Nigma. One week later, he had escaped from Arkham, for the final time. One month after that, he was in a coma.