Gotham City Shelter, 12:15 pm

Within twelve hours of Bane's capture, the news had spread like wildfire not just to the citizens of Gotham City proper, but to the denizens of the criminal underworld of Gotham. While Edward and Penelope had their painful goodbye in his apartment, across town, Selina Kyle, Harley Quinn, and Pamela Isley were watching Summer Gleeson's updated report. "While there has been no comment from either Commissioner Gordon or Edward Nigma regarding the latter's involvement in Bane's capture, GCNN has recently learned that not only was Nigma seen leaving Krank Toy Factory, that Batman was seen departing as well. According to our eyewitness, Batman appeared to be injured, which raises even more questions about how Bane was captured, and just what part Nigma played in the whole affair. Until Nigma makes a statement, however, it appears that this is a riddle that may go unanswered. This is Summer Gleeson, for GCNN."

Selina kept her expression as neutral as she could. Bruce had called her early that morning and informed her of what had taken place inside Krank Toy Factory. While a part of her wanted to slap Eddie into oblivion for being so damn reckless, there was another part of her that was proud of him. He'd actually, for a few minutes at least, got over his hatred of Bruce to save him and Doc from Bane. It was a step in the right direction for him. That wasn't a thought she dared voice out loud, however. Her green eyes darted to her housemates. Harley was sitting in the middle of the sofa next to Selina, her knees hugged to her chest and her eyes downcast, still put out by her argument with Eddie yesterday. Pam was standing to the right of the sofa, her gaze cool and calculating. When the newscast cut to a commercial break, she let out a huff. "Nigma risking his life to help Batman? Now I've seen everything." She glanced over to Selina. "Has Nigma been making amends with Batman, Selina? Should we be worried?"

Before Selina could answer, Harley spoke up in a small voice. "He didn't do it for B-Man, Red. He did it for her." The venom with which she spoke startled Selina a bit and even Pam looked taken aback.

"Her?" Pam repeated.

"Dr. Young," Harley clarified. "Eddie was keepin' her in his place to protect her from Bane! She probably got herself captured and he had to go save her!" It was the opposite, but it wasn't like Selina could tell Harley and Pam that. Harley lifted her head and glared at Selina. "How come you didn't tell us that she was hangin' around Eddie!?"

Selina shrugged. "It wasn't my place to tell you, Harley. It's up to Eddie to decide how much of his private life he wants to share with you."

This answer did not please Harley. She sat up and leaned back against the sofa, crossing her arms across her chest like a sullen teenager. "Of all the girls in all the world! Why'd it have to be that Ice Queen!? Just who does she think she is, coming in and tryin' to take Jonny's place!?"

"Crane's worm food, Harley," Pam pointed out bluntly. "I doubt he cares who's been warming Nigma's bed lately."

Harley jut her lower lip out. "Still! It's all wrong! If Jonny were here-"

"But he's not, Harley," Selina cut in. "Crane's gone, and he's not coming back. Even if you don't personally care for Dr. Young, Eddie does. Doesn't he deserve to be happy?"

From the soft look on her face, Selina thought that she might have gotten through to Harley. Her hopes were dashed when her friend's face darkened. "But she won't make him happy, Kitty! She's gonna try to change him into somethin' he ain't! It'd be different if it were you, but someone like her...it's just wrong!"

"Harley," Pam asked. "Are you love with Nigma?"

Harley pulled a face at her friend. "What!? No! No way! He's like a little brother to me! Well, older brother, technically, but you know what I mean!"

"Well then, if you aren't in love with Nigma, what do you care about who he may or may not be in love with? How does that help us deal with him helping Batman?"

"Because!" Harley shouted, throwing her hands up. "She's gonna want Eddie to change for her! To be more like a good guy! She's gonna take him away from us! She's already got her hooks in him! You should have heard what he said to me yesterday, Red! We've been friends for years, and the second little Miss Young snapped her fingers, he was actin' like he'd pick her over me!"

So that was what this was about. Harley got a taste of what she dished out to others whenever she went running back to Joker and she didn't like it. "Harley," Selina said. "Do you think that she, or anyone, can get Eddie to do something he doesn't want to do?" Harley's face fell. Of course, she knew that Selina thought. It was easier for her to make Doc a scapegoat than to admit that Eddie might be outgrowing her or perhaps, just perhaps, that she and Eddie had never really been that close, to begin with. "You can still salvage some kind of relationship with him, Harley," she said gently. "It just can't be what it used to be."

Harley's eyes narrowed. "Not as long as she's around, we can't. Eddie doesn't trust me anymore, because of her. He helped B-Man because of her! What else is he gonna do? What else is he keepin' from us?" She looked at Selina with a question in her eyes. "Kitty, what else is goin' on with Eddie?"

Selina thought of the business with Hugo Strange, of Ellen. Maybe she should have told Harley about what happened with Tetch last year while it was still happening, instead of waiting until it was over. Maybe if she had...what was done was done. Eddie had made his feelings about what he wanted Harley to know clear. "I'm sorry Harley," she said. "But I have to respect Eddie's wishes."

Harley glared at her. "So you don't trust me either. Great!" Harley got off the couch and stomped off to the front door. "Don't wait up," she snarled before slamming the door behind her. Selina sighed and turned her attention back to the TV. Harley just needed time to get over it.

"She does have a point about one thing," she heard Pam say. Selina looked up to see that Pam was fixing her with a calculating look. "Don't get me wrong, if Nigma is head over heels in love with Dr. Young, that's her misfortune. But it's obvious that there are things about Nigma that you're keeping from us." She gestured back to the screen, where two talking heads were debating what Eddie's involvement in Bane's capture meant. "So I'll ask you right now: is there anything going on with Nigma that we need to worry about?"

"No," Selina said effortlessly. "Just personal stuff. It's nothing that concerns you."

Pam nodded but didn't look convinced. "And if there was, would you tell us?"

Selina narrowed her own eyes. "That depends on what you would do with that information, Pam."

Pam turned her gaze back to the TV. "If Nigma, because of love, because of ego, or because of whatever asinine reason he chooses in any way becomes a threat to us, I will get rid of him, Selina. Either I will or someone else will. And if you try to protect him, you'll get caught in the crossfire."

"Nine lives, remember?" Selina sassed. Pam rolled her eyes and walked off to tend to her plants. Now that she was alone, Selina focused on the TV, and the picture the news report had chosen of Eddie. If Pam was thinking this, then there was no doubt in Selina's mind that the other Rogues were too. Her eyes narrowed as she remembered her encounter with Harvey last year. This little escapade was just further ammo for him to distrust and plot against Eddie. Selina sighed. Eddie had done the right thing, no question, but he had no idea just what kind of trouble he'd invited on himself.

Iceberg Lounge, 5:58 pm

Much like Selina, Oswald had spent a good portion of his day watching the news coverage from his private office in the Iceberg Lounge. Only, his feelings about the whole affair were much less ambiguous. "Edward my boy," he sighed. "What in God's name have you done?" He shook his head. This was going to be a nightmare to deal with. From the beginning of Edward's reformation, and Oswald's association with him, he'd been fending off accusations from the rest of their costumed brethren that Edward was a sell-out, a double-crosser, a traitor, and that it was only a matter of time before he'd turn on them. Oswald had been able to quiet most of them by pointing out that although Edward was reformed, it wasn't as if he was acting against them, or assisting Batman. It had become much more difficult to make those arguments with everything Edward had done over the past year. Now? Helping Batman capture Bane, one of the most formidable men on the planet? What had possessed Edward to do such a thing? It was tantamount to an open declaration of war on the rest of the Rogues. It would be almost impossible to convince them that Edward wasn't in league with Batman now.

A knocking at his door brought him out of his thoughts. "Sir?"

It was Marco, one of his managers. "Come in," Oswald said.

The solid oak door opened and Marco appeared, his usually composed face pale and sweaty. "They're here, Mr. Cobblepot."

Oswald turned his gaze upwards before pushing his chair back and getting up from the desk. After the news hit, he'd been inundated with calls from all sides of his social circle. The nefarious side had demanded a meeting. Oswald took one last look at the TV hung up on his wall before he turned it off and followed Marco out to the restaurant.

It was 6:00, normally the peak dinner hours for the Lounge, but Oswald had deemed it necessary to close the restaurant down for the evening. There were a few brave souls at the bar, who were allowed more for appearances, but otherwise, the place was devoid of regular customers. A small group of people was gathered at Oswald's table, under the great glass chandelier in the middle of the restaurant. Oswald knew many of the faces personally. Drury Walker. Garfield Lynns. Arthur Brown. And of course, Harvey Dent. Dent was seated in a plush chair in the middle of the assembled group, flanked on both sides by henchmen of his, whom Oswald assumed were armed. Several of Oswald's guard was waiting for him as he approached the table. He took a seat in his great red plush chair, directly facing Harvey and cleared his throat. "Good evening, gentlemen. It's your meeting."

Brown opened his mouth to say something only to be immediately cut off by Harvey with a harsh "Have you been watching the news, Oswald?"

Harvey was already agitated. That wasn't a good sign. "I have."

"Then you know why we're here." Both sides of Harvey's face were wrathful. "We warned you. We knew from the beginning it was only a matter of time until Nigma turned on us. And now he has."

"Now Harvey," Oswald said. "We don't know what exactly Edward's motives were-"

"We don't care why he did it!" Harvey snarled, pounding his fist on the table. "The important thing is that he did it! He helped Batman capture Bane! That doesn't bother you!?"

This time, Brown interjected. "Bane's one of the most powerful people on the planet, and Nigma survived taking him on! If he could go up against Bane and live, let alone help beat him, what else can he do and who else can he do that to!?"

Oswald raised a hand to calm Brown. "We have had this discussion several times since Edward started his reformation, Arthur, and I will repeat myself yet again. As long as you leave him to his own devices, he'll leave you alone. I'm quite certain Edward didn't help Batman out of the goodness of his own heart. Bane must have provoked him, somehow."

"It's not just about Bane, Oswald," Harvey cut back in. "In the last year, Nigma sent Tetch and Goodman back to Arkham. We all know he did. We've all heard the rumors about how he was the one who led Batman to Croc. And now he helps Batman with Bane? That's starting to look like a pattern to us, Oswald. Who's next? Brown? Lynns?" He narrowed his good eyes and clenched his fist even tighter. "Us? We've let him have free reign for too long, and look what's happened! We've got to stop him now before he decides to come after us!"

Oswald took a long, hard look at Harvey and the others assembled at the table. Other than Brown, none of the others had said a word, but Oswald had the sense that they agreed with Harvey. He lit his cigarette and took a long puff while formulating his response. "I will speak to Edward regarding this matter. In return, I ask that you not approach him. Any of you. If you do, you'll all but guarantee he'll go running to Batman."

"We've left him alone for two years and he's gone running to Batman!" Harvey shouted, pushing himself out of his seat. "If you won't handle this, Cobblepot, then we will! And if you protect him-"

At that threat, Oswald snapped his fingers. In an instant, his bodyguards drew their weapons on the assembled Rogues. "You'll what, Harvey?" Oswald asked. "May I remind you, gentlemen, that due to my connections with high society, I have so far been able to avoid the Mayor's crackdown on our ilk? If you want weapons, you have to come to me. If you want to replace your henchmen that have been swept up in the dragnet, you have to come to me. If you want to fence your ill-gotten gains, you have to come to me." He narrowed his eyes and took another puff of smoke. "If any of you attack Edward Nigma, then consider the doors to the Iceberg Lounge closed to you. Permanently." Walker, Lynns, and Brown looked to each other, then to Harvey. Harvey continued to glare back at Oswald, then growled, stomping away towards the table to the front entrance, closely trailed by his henchmen.

When he got to the door, he turned and pointed at Oswald. "We told Kyle this last year and now we're telling you, Oswald," he ground out. "Nigma's not your friend. He will sell you out in an instant. And when he does, you'll wish you listened to us!" Harvey turned on his heel and exited the club, followed by his men.

Oswald turned his attention to Brown, Walker, and Lynns. "If there's nothing else, gentlemen, then this meeting is adjourned. Good evening." The three got the message as they vacated the table and followed Harvey out of the Lounge. Only when the last man had left did Oswald put down his cigarette holder and sigh. "Marco," he called out. "Get me a glass of the Bordeaux. Everyone else, you may stand down."

"Right away, Mr. Cobblepot," he heard Marco respond. Oswald shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his long nose. He would need to talk to Edward as soon as possible. One more incident like this and not even the threat of barring them from the Iceberg Lounge would be enough to hold the other Rogues back. More likely, they would make a truce with White, or even Sionis. If that happened...well, it didn't bear thinking about. Marco returned with the bottle of wine and glass not a minute too soon. Oswald could feel a headache coming on.

No sooner did Marco finish pouring his wine did Harley Quinn burst in, her lower lip trembling. "Ozzie!" the woman wailed. "It's Eddie!"

Edward, what in God's name have you done? Oswald let out another sigh. "Marco, fetch me another glass." He gestured for Harley to take a seat at the table. "Come here, my dear. Tell me what's wrong."

Unknown to Oswald, one of the brave souls seated at the bar was paying close attention to his meeting with the other Rogues and now his sit down with Harley. He was a tall, handsome man with a strong jaw and red hair. He listened as Harley narrated her tale of woe and Edward Nigma's new romantic interest. The man smirked, paid his tab, and walked out of the Iceberg Lounge without anyone being the wiser.

Arkham Asylum, 9:59 pm

In all of Hugo Strange's schemes, in every scenario he had concocted, every possible outcome he had foreseen, he had never planned for this. He almost hadn't believed it when Ward called him, frantic about Nigma's nocturnal visit. Schrader had confirmed Bane's capture and Young's return to GCPD. That Nigma would involve himself was planned for. That Batman would be the one to capture Bane was expected. That the two of them would work together...it was inconceivable. As Strange watched the news unfold throughout the day, he faced a sickening realization. He had, from the very beginning of this adventure, underestimated what Edward Nigma was capable of. For the second time in six months, he'd had his assumptions of the man disproved, and it had cost him dearly. As night fell over Gotham City, he found himself reviewing Nigma's old, out of date now, Arkham patient file. 'Narcissism, a compulsive desire to prove his intellect, and a predilection for riddles.' A year ago, he had been convinced that this profile had been accurate, that he could use it to break Nigma. Nigma, however, was possibly evolving beyond it. He was genuinely growing. He seemed to be resisting his compulsions, moving past his predilections. As for the narcissism...given his willingness to intervene on behalf of Young and his daughter, had that diagnosis ever been accurate? Had Strange simply taken that as a given and never bothered to examine the question further? He had known the Riddler's psychology inside and out once. How much did he know about Edward Nigma? For the first time since he had embarked on his grand plan, Strange found himself with no answers.

He pulled his phone out of his desk drawer when he heard it ring. It was well past 10:00 now. He'd already spoken with the Mayor, Ward, and Schrader. There was only one person left to inform. Strange answered the phone as collected as he could. "Good evening, Master."

"I've seen the news reports," his Master said in a clipped tone. "Tell me everything that transpired, now."

Strange narrated the events to his Master. When he finished, his Master said nothing, much like when he'd been informed of the incident in April. "Everything is still going according to plan," Strange tried to assure him. "I have begun recruiting volunteers to help carry out Stage Two of our plan. We have successfully weakened the criminal element in Gotham City. We are close to re-capturing Harvey Dent and I have a plan to break up Kyle's group-"

"One year ago," his Master cut in. "You assured me that Edward Nigma was a gadfly. That he posed no threat to our plans, and that he would be back in Arkham before the year was out." His Master's tone grew angry. "This is the second time in six months that he's played a part in undermining you, and from what I can see, he is no closer to being re-committed now than he was then. On the contrary, he appears to be thriving."

Strange swallowed. "I...perhaps have been lax in dealing with the man. I assure you, I will get the situation under control-"

"Will you?" his Master questioned. "He's managed to resist everything you've thrown at him so far. If you cannot handle someone as inconsequential as Edward Nigma, how can you hope to take the Detective's place at my side?"

Strange clung tightly to the phone. "I will, Master. I will. Men like Nigma cannot change, despite all of his attempts. Somewhere inside of him, there is still the man he was before the coma. I will find that man and expose him for all of Gotham to see. He will not trouble us again."

"See that you do. I don't need to tell you that the longer Nigma remains reformed, the more of a problem he poses. He and the Detective cannot be allowed to reconcile."

"Of course, Master," Strange said. "They will not. I guarantee it." When the phone call disconnected, his eyes darted to the panel where the Batsuit was located. He could not afford to second-guess himself or to doubt, not with all that was at stake. He would not be denied his rightful place by anyone, not by Wayne, not by Young, and not by Nigma. "Men like you can never truly change, Edward Nigma," he murmured. "You simply need a reminder."

Forest Lawn Cemetary, 10:30 pm

At that moment, across the bay, in the Northeast section of Gotham Island, in a two-hundred-year-old cemetery, something was happening that no one, not Edward Nigma, not Bruce Wayne, not even Hugo Strange had any inkling of. Thomas Elliot, a former surgeon and childhood friend of Bruce Wayne, was returning to the Elliot family mausoleum from his fact-finding trip to the Iceberg Lounge. Once, the Elliot family had been a wealthy, regarded family at the top of Gotham's social elite, rivaled by only the Waynes and the Cobblepots. Now, all that remained was the family mausoleum, and Thomas Elliot himself.

Or as he was now known by hero and villain alike in Gotham, Hush.

It had been nearly four years since he and Nigma had conspired to destroy Bruce Wayne. Look at what those years had done to them. Nigma was a reformed private detective, with his face in the news every few months for some escapade or another. Elliot on the other hand? After another plot against Bruce, he'd lost his family home, and his fortune thanks to that whore Selina Kyle. All he had left was the Elliot family mausoleum, which had served as a home base while he'd been lying low these last few years. He'd been miserably making a living serving as a back alley surgeon for any crook with enough money, while his former partner in crime was living it up in the open. It didn't seem fair.

Oh well. Elliot would see his star rise again soon, now that he had an ace in the hole.

Carrying a flashlight in one hand, Elliot approached the largest tomb in the mausoleum, knowing his path by heart. He placed the flashlight down long enough to slide the lid over, uncovering a staircase that led to an underground chamber below. Picking up the flashlight, Elliot descended the narrow steps, closing the lid behind him. Two centuries ago, the land upon which the mausoleum had been built had hidden catacombs underneath it. The corpses had long since been moved and reburied, but the tunnels and chambers remained, serving Elliot's purposes brilliantly. He took the first fork to the right and walked an additional fifty feet until he could see the light from the portable generators he had set up. The first chamber to his left served as his room. The second one, his makeshift operating theater. The chambers to his right, his patients' rooms. At any given time, he may have two or three, lying low and recovering here for a nominal fee. The chamber to the far right though had a long-term resident. Elliot smiled as he approached his patient's room. Despite the limited tools with which he had to work, he considered this patient to be his greatest success story. He'd practically brought him back from the dead after fishing his broken body out of the Gotham Bay two years earlier. It had been touch and go for the first six months, but the Patient was just too stubborn and spiteful to die. The next year had been spent in physiotherapy and reconstructive surgery, as best as he could manage given his limited resources. The results were...well if he'd been any other patient, horrifying, but given his tastes, almost ideal. Normally, he'd charge well into the hundreds of thousands for the work he had put it, but given their history, Elliot had been willing to waive his fee.

Instead, they had agreed that when the time came, they would work together to bring down their common enemy. The Patient had always been vague about when the proper time to act was but perhaps after he'd heard what Elliot had learned tonight, it would move the time table up.

"Knock knock," Elliot called out in front of the curtain set up in front of the chamber. "Are you busy?" That was a rhetorical question. Morning, noon, and night, the Patient was busy, scribbling down formulas as best he could given his mangled hands, or testing his work on an unfortunate soul who couldn't pay Elliot's fee.

"What do you want, Thomas?" A voice called out from behind the curtain. Once, it had been a smooth drawl, deceptively soothing. Now, after the damage inflicted on the vocal cords during the attack, it had become harsh and guttural.

"I was at the Iceberg Lounge tonight. I learned some things that may interest you. May I come in?"

There was a pause before the Patient spoke again. "If you insist," he finally said. "But make it quick."

Elliot pushed aside the curtain and stepped into the chamber. As he expected, the Patient was sitting at an old desk Elliot had procured for him, off in the corner of the chamber, surrounded by glass vials and furiously scribbling away. The room was barely illuminated by a lone light bulb hanging from the ceiling. There was a tray of food Elliot had left for him before he'd departed that evening on the Patient's cot, still untouched. "Now now," he chided. "We've talked about eating, Professor."

The Patient did not look up from his notes. "You said that you had news?"

Elliot rubbed his chin. Experience had shown that Edward Nigma was a...dangerous topic to bring up. "It's about Eddie."

The Patient paused in his scribblings for a moment. "I have warned you," he said, low and dangerous. "Countless times not to approach him until I give the word-"

"And I haven't," Elliot said, raising his hands in supplication. "He's made the news again. It was the talk of all the Rogues at the Lounge tonight."

The Patient went back to scribbling. "And just what has the damn fool done this time?" he asked indifferently.

"He helped Batman capture Bane."

The Patient stopped his work again, but he still did not look at Elliot. "What?" he asked softly. He shook his head. "That's ridiculous," he said louder. "Edward does not quarrel with Bane. Why would he help Batman with him?"

Elliot smirked. Now for the coup de grace. "Well, according to Quinn, he did it for a girl." As an added twist of the knife, Elliot continued with "Seems like Eddie's moved on, Professor."

The only sound heard in the chamber after that was the sound of the pen the Patient had been holding hitting the stone floor. "No," the Patient murmured, in a tone of voice Elliot hadn't heard in years. "No, he wouldn't..." the Patient's thin shoulders bunched up and Elliot could just make out his gnarled hands gripping the sides of the desk. "And just who is this girl," he snarled out, "That Edward has betrayed him for?"

This was working out exactly as Elliot had hoped it would. "Penelope Young," he said. "From what I heard, she used to work at Arkham." At those words, the Patient sat straight up in his chair. He seemed surprised. Elliot raised an eyebrow. "Did you know her?"

"She was my student," the Patient whispered so low Elliot could barely hear. "My best student...and now she and Edward both-" his shoulders bunched up again. "Leave," he said in a calm voice.

Elliot furrowed his brow. "Doesn't this change our plans? Shouldn't we talk-"

"When I am ready, I will inform you," the Patient said his tone final. "Now leave. I have work to do."

Elliot frowned but did as the Patient requested. He withdrew from the chamber, closing the curtain behind him. His mood darkened as he walked back to his room. If this wasn't enough to spur him on, what would? He had just drawn the curtain to his room when he heard an angry howl and the sound of breaking glass.

Elliot smiled. All according to plan.

Author's Note: Ain't I a stinker ;) Thanks to everyone who's read this behemoth so far. We're about twelve chapters away from the grand finale to part five, then it's on to part six, where things take a turn. Just for fun, check out the poll in my profile about Ed's love life! See you soon!