One week to the day after Bane had been recaptured, Bruce stood alone on an empty rooftop overlooking the Gotham City financial district. It was a warm summer night, and the streets below were empty, save for the occasional car a few brave, foolish people who were still out drinking and partying at this late hour. It had been a quiet night though. So quiet, he'd sent Damian home early from patrol, much to his son's chagrin. Bruce himself stayed out though, partly in case something came up, but mostly to be alone with his thoughts. Although the streets may have been quiet this past week, that didn't mean he hadn't had a lot on his plate, between meeting with Gordon regarding the TITAN theft, making sure Bane was returned to federal custody, and recruiting Tim and Barbara to pull background information on Curtis Schrader, Phillip Ward, Quincy Sharp and Hugo Strange. He'd been putting that off for far too long.

Bruce had also spent a good deal of time reflecting in the past week. His gaze turned slightly westward, towards the outer edge of Downtown. It had been seven nights ago exactly since he'd confronted Edward in his apartment. He could still see Edward clearly in his mind, his defensiveness, his sharp words. "Do you think that I am not painfully aware of what an awful human being I am? Do you really think I need you to come in to remind me of everything I'm not?" Bruce's brow furrowed. His guilt. No, more than guilt. Self-loathing. In all the years Bruce had clashed with Edward, he had never seen the man show any sign of guilt. He'd assumed he wasn't capable of feeling it. He'd assumed a lot of things over the years. His gaze turned to the East, towards Park Row. It had been six nights since he'd paid a visit to Dr. Young. "This isn't about your concern for his well being. This is about your mistrust, your need to control the situation. This is about the fact that you can't bring yourself to believe that he isn't about to relapse." Her words had been as raw as Edward's, her eyes as red. The incident with Bane had proved that he was right to be wary of Edward and Dr. Young together, that he was right to plant the bug. And yet, tonight, alone on the rooftop, Bruce found himself wondering if Dr. Young was right too. "Hasn't it occurred to you, just once, that this mutual resentment is playing right into Strange's hands?"

The sound of footsteps on the rooftop drew his attention. Too soft to be Dick or Tim. Too much noise to be Cassandra or Damian. Too quiet to be Stephanie. Bruce allowed himself to relax slightly. "Hello, Selina."

"Hello yourself, tall dark and handsome," Selina drawled. She approached him from behind, a finger tracing his shoulder blades before she stepped in front of him. "Thought I saw you brooding. Flying solo tonight?"

"Quiet night," Bruce responded.

"Guess the Mayor's crackdown's good for something," Selina quipped. She stepped to his side to gently hug his arm. "So why do you still look like you have the world on your shoulders?"

Bruce let out a rueful sigh. "I've had a lot on my mind this last week, Selina."

"I can imagine." Selina squeezed his arm tighter. "Eddie's little stunt with Bane is causing all kinds of headaches in this town."

"Have you spoken to him lately?"

Selina looked up at him and arched an eyebrow. "Eddie told me that you paid him a visit and that you put a bug in Doc's car. Are you asking me out of concern or for information?"

Bruce cocked his head slightly at the accusatory tone. First Dr. Young, now Selina. "I'll be the first to admit that I don't, and probably never can trust Edward Nigma," he said carefully. "But that doesn't mean that I don't care about his welfare."

Selina's gaze softened. "I know, Bruce. I know." Selina let out a sigh of her own. "I talked to him last Monday to get the full story out of him. I checked in with him yesterday, too. Harley hasn't been making things any easier."

"Harley?" Bruce asked. "What does she have to do with it?"

"Doc walked in on the two of them having coffee and things got ugly. Eddie blew up at Harley for being nasty about Doc, and now on top of everything else, he won't return her calls." Selina shook her head. "Don't get me wrong, I don't regret helping you keep an eye on Harley and Red, but it's like being a kindergarten teacher sometimes."

Bruce meanwhile, was mulling over Selina's words. Between involving himself with Bane and repudiating Harley, it was clear that whatever Edward felt for Dr. Young, it was serious and it was genuine. If he was moving on from Crane, was it possible he was moving on from other things? He noticed then that Selina's expression was uncharacteristically serious. "What is it?" he asked her softly.

"I'm worried about Eddie," she admitted. "He told me that Doc called off their partnership for the time being."

"I know," Bruce admitted. "I spoke to her last Monday."

Selina dryly chuckled. "Why am I not surprised?" Then her face fell again. "Eddie won't admit it, of course, but I can tell that he misses her. He's been more shut down than he has in months."

Between what he'd witnessed between the pair in the Krank Toy Factory, what he'd overheard between them in the month beforehand, and what he'd seen in Dr. Young's eyes that night in her apartment, that whatever Edward felt for her, she reciprocated. "It's for the best Selina," he said, as much to convince himself as well as her. "It's too dangerous for them to be together."

Selina let out a derisive snort. "That's not your decision to make, Bruce." She shook her head. "On top of Doc leaving, Ozzie apparently told him that the other Rogues are angry at him for helping you with Bane."

Bruce narrowed his eyes. This, more than anything, was why he would have greatly preferred for Edward to have settled in quiet obscurity upon his medical release. "Have there been any threats made against him?"

"Well, Ozzie said that Harvey was vocal about wanting to take care of Eddie, but that he was able to talk him down. For now. Ozzie told Eddie though that if he helps bring in another Rogue, it'll be open season on him."

Open warfare in Gotham's streets between the Rogues. That would gift wrap the perfect excuse for Sharp and Strange to push an even harsher agenda through. "That won't happen," he said. "I won't let it, Selina."

Selina smiled a bit, although it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thanks, handsome." She let out another sigh. "Between Doc leaving, the Rogues, and Strange though...I'm worried about what this is doing to Eddie. All of this at once would drive even the most well-balanced person over the edge, and we both know Eddie's not exactly what you'd call well-balanced."

It was a thought that had crossed Bruce's mind several times in the past week. Edward had managed to stay reformed despite Strange's machinations, but so many intense incidents over the past year, from Croc to the incident with his daughter, and now Bane...that had to be taking a psychological toll. "I told him to back off of Strange."

"We both know he won't listen to you," Selina cut in. "He won't let go of that until he cracks it, or it cracks him. Besides Bruce, even if by some miracle he did listen to you and walked away, would Strange leave him alone?"

Bruce didn't have to think too hard about the answer to that. Strange had come after Edward first after all. "No, he wouldn't, but I could help contain it. Edward can't keep doing what he's been doing. He's only going to get himself or other people hurt."

Selina bit her bottom lip as if she was pondering something. "You're right. Eddie can't keep doing this the way he's been doing it. But we both know he's not going to just walk away. He's in too deep now." Then another small smile came to her face. "But we both know those aren't the only options."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "What are you saying?"

Selina shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's time for the two of you to sit down and show each other your cards. Work together on the Strange business."

Bruce was silent for a long moment. "You said yourself he won't listen to me. He's not going to want to work with me."

"Maybe he won't now, but he's still feeling raw about Doc. And to be honest, the way you handled the whole thing with Bane didn't help much. Give him time to cool down, then give him some kind of peace offering. Maybe he'll come around."

Bruce and Edward had worked together on cases before, but nothing of this magnitude. He may be reformed, but he was still reckless, egotistical, self-serving, and most worrisome for Bruce now, increasingly unpredictable. There was also the matter of the resentment he still carried from their past, even if he couldn't remember the details and the fact that Edward blamed him for what had happened to Crane. How could Bruce work with him now? On the other hand...it was becoming more obvious that Edward wasn't the same man he'd fought all those years ago. If he was truly changing for the better, could it be possible to trust him? "I'll think about, Selina," he said at last. "In the meantime-"

Selina raised a hand. "I'll keep an eye on him. Just like you are with Doc, I'm assuming?"

"I'm not keeping her under surveillance or anything like that," he said. He remembered the unshed tears he saw in her eyes and felt another stab of guilt. He'd done enough on that front. "When she comes back to work on our committee, I'll keep an eye on her."

Selina nodded, then her face became wistful. "I hope they find their way back to each other soon. I know you're not a fan of the idea, but I think it's pretty obvious that they're in love."

"I know," Bruce said softly. "It's not that I don't want them to be happy. I want to do the right thing by both of them. I just don't know what the right thing is anymore."

Selina gently reached up to cup his face. "You'll figure it out. World's Greatest Detective and all that." She let out another dry chuckle. "You know, you and Eddie have a lot more in common than you'll ever admit. You're both the smartest, most stubborn men I've ever known."

Bruce was glad that Selina couldn't fully see the look on his face at the comparison.

Edward stood in front of the whiteboard he'd set up in his living room, chewing the tip of a red marker. On the whiteboard were posted five pictures of the men who had turned his life upside down. Lyle Bolton. Curtis Schrader. Phillip Ward. Quincy Sharp. Hugo Strange. Edward took the marker and began to draw red lines between the pictures. "Strange and Sharp meet and Strange uses Sharp as a puppet," he murmured. "Ward and Sharp are connected through their shared time at Blackgate prison, which explains his involvement. Bolton was formerly employed at Arkham Asylum-" Edward allowed himself to smile, the first true smile he'd had in a week since she'd-don't think about her. Focus on the case. "We can assume that the rest of the security goons at Arkham follow Strange's lead. Schrader...Schrader, Schrader, Schrader-" How he longed for nothing more than to torment him as he'd been tormenting Bolton all these months. She'd asked him not to-and she's not here. "I haven't found a single definitive link between him and Strange. It's possible that due to his position at GCPD, he's come into contact with Ward," he scribbled a line connecting the detective's picture to Ward's, before snapping in frustration. "And so have any number of officers! That's not good enough!" Edward threw the marker onto the floor and stomped over to his dining room table, where his lukewarm cup of coffee was waiting for him. He took a gulp, then checked his watch. It was 3:00 AM now. It was the sixth night, morning, in a row that he'd been up in his living room, reviewing his files, poring over his research, chasing his tail, anything to avoid thinking about her, about Oswald, about the fact that he recognized himself less and less every time he looked into his bathroom mirror. He put the now empty coffee mug down on the table, grimacing at the taste. He was seeing Ellen tomorrow...today? What day was it? Perhaps it was time to sleep while he still could.

He walked to his sofa, his bed for the past week. He still couldn't bring himself to sleep in his bed, because that was where she'd been and if he started to think about her he'd never stop, and he needed to stop, that door was shut, that door was never open in the first place, I'm not in love with her, I'm not, and even if I was, it doesn't matter, because she's still gone, and men like you don't get to be happy. He sat down on his sofa and leaned back, shutting his eyes. He hadn't realized how much they burned.

"Edward," he sighed. "What are you doing?" Since he'd arrived home from his meeting with Oswald, since he'd put on the old domino mask, he'd spent the last few days living as if in a fever dream. Selina had called him, of course, to check up on him, and to no doubt report back to Batman. So had Harley. Edward didn't even bother taking those phone calls. Dr. Leland had left a message as well, to tell him that 'her door was open if he needed to talk' and 'I just want to make sure you're alright.' Edward had almost laughed at that. 'Oh, I'm perfectly fine, dear Dr., I just had happiness dangled in front of me and denied me again, my former associates want to kill me, and oh yes, one of my friends seems to think I'm on my way to be the next do-gooder in Gotham, how has your week been?'

Oswald's voice broke through his mind again. "Times are changing, Edward. You are changing, even if you can't see that yet." Edward put his hands over his ears in a vain attempt to block it out. "I'm not a good person," he said. "I'm not!" But you're not a Rogue either, he thought to himself. If you're not a good person, but you aren't a Rogue either, then who are you? "I don't know," he admitted, dropping his hands. "I don't know who or what I am anymore." He opened his eyes and looked to the two objects on his coffee table, sitting side by side. To his left, his medication. He was overdue for it. To his right, his old domino mask. He'd taken it off, but he hadn't put it away. It sat on top of his coffee table, like a forbidden trinket. Edward picked it up, his fingers brushing against the old, but still good-quality material. He barely remembered ever wearing this mask. He barely remembered much of his time as the Riddler. What he remembered most, was the feeling of certainty, the confidence, the bravado, the fact that life was just one big puzzle, one that he knew all the answers to. He'd begun to feel that again when he helped dispatch Bane when he'd confronted Ward. It was intoxicating, and it felt right. Edward Nigma, Private Investigator didn't know where he fit in the world anymore, but maybe, just maybe, Edward Nigma, the Riddler, would. Why not make everyone happy and put the mask back on? Show Schrader, Ward, Sharp, and Strange exactly who they crossed, make the other Rogues remember who Gotham truly belonged to, the Prince of Puzzles, the King of Conundrums, Riddle me This-

And what about Penny? Edward's eyes snapped back to his bottle of medication. Penny wouldn't be happy. She'd be disgusted, she'd be betrayed. "And she's not here," Edward whispered to himself. "I did the right thing and she still left me!" What had doing the right thing gotten him? He was sitting in his apartment alone, completely disheveled, ready to throw everything away over what? "I don't need her," he murmured harshly, putting the mask down and reaching for his bottle of medication. "I was reformed long before I met her. I was taking care of myself long before I let her into my world." He never should have. If she was only going to walk away from him, he almost would have preferred to have never met her at all, to be spared this. Almost. Hadn't he been halfway out the door every day this week to see her, before logic took over? He went to unscrew the top of the pill bottle, his mind at war with itself, in a way it hadn't been since before he'd been medically cleared, since before he'd woken up. What was happening to him? He'd hadn't felt this much doubt when he'd decided to reform, why was he feeling this now? Did you really decide to reform? His mind asked him again. Did you ever really have a choice? Your mind was a complete blank, your partners in crime had moved on, Jonathan was dead, what choice did you have really? The top wouldn't screw off, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't quite manage to get it off. This was the last straw. With a wild yell, Edward got up and threw the bottle across the room, hitting the whiteboard and sending it crashing to the floor. Pills scattered about the carpet.

Edward stood for a long moment, panting. "No, Dr. Leland," he said in a flat tone. "I'm not alright." He got to work picking up the pills off the floor, then went to the kitchen for a glass of water. For his visit with Ellen, he needed to be functional.

After that...well, that was a riddle, wasn't it?

It was 6:00 AM at Arkham Asylum, but Hugo Strange was wide awake, engaged in a meeting in his office. "Gentlemen," Strange addressed the two men standing in front of his desk. "I am afraid that I have put this off for far too long. We must now address the question of Edward Nigma." At the mention of the Rogue's name, Strange saw Ward's face pale. No doubt he remembered all too well his encounter with the Rogue last week. Schrader seemed aloof as always, his arms hanging down at his sides. "The man has become a genuine nuisance to us. Before we move forward with our plans for Stage Two, we must deal with him."

"No problem," Schrader said, confident as always. "We know where his office is. All anyone needs to do is go over there and just shoot the son of a bitch."

"Just shoot him?" Ward asked incredulously. "Curtis, the man helped Batman take down Bane! You really don't think he could get out of a mere ambush!?"

"He got lucky," Schrader insisted. "And Batman was there. On his own? Nigma's nothing."

Ward furiously shook his head. "You don't know Nigma like I do. Do you know why he was sent to Arkham in the first place?"

Schrader laughed. "Because he's a fruitcake who used to wear green spandex?"

"No," Ward said. He took a breath. "Nigma is mentally ill, but he's not legally insane. I don't think he ever was. Fifteen years ago, when he was first arrested, he was sent to Blackgate for armed robbery. For the first two days, he was a model prisoner. He kept his head down, he did what the guards told him to do, he didn't make any kind of fuss. Do you know what he was actually doing? He was studying the place, he was planning, he was taking into account every weakness the prison had at the time. On the third day, he instigated a riot and managed to escape in the chaos. He was in the wind for nine months and stole over $2 million dollars from half the banks in Gotham City. He was only caught because he couldn't resist leaving clues for Batman to find. When he was apprehended, he was sent to Arkham because they had stricter security protocols." Ward looked up at Strange and the fear in his eyes was palpable. "The man is a nightmare. We can't just ambush him at his office!"

Strange resisted the urge to sneer at Ward's dramatics, but he agreed. "No, we can't. As tempting as it is, we also can't simply kill the man. That could invite retaliation." Strange also didn't want to just kill Nigma. Death was too quick, too merciful. Strange wanted to break him, cut him open and prove to Gotham that Edward Nigma, Private Investigator was a sham, that the Riddler was alive and well.

"Well, I have some good news," Schrader added. "Gordon may be freezing me out, but I still hear things. I caught him and Cash talking about how Young and Nigma aren't working together anymore."

Strange raised an eyebrow. If this was true, then it made his plan that much easier. "Oh?"

A cold smile broke out on Schrader's face. "Apparently, the bitch dumped him after the whole thing with Bane. Poor bastard."

Strange leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. "Indeed. He must be feeling alone. Vulnerable." A smile slowly came across his own face. Perfect. "Well then, Gentlemen, I believe I have the authority to invoke City Ordinance 352. I believe Mr. Nigma is long overdue for a personal session."