Monday, August 3rd, 2007

4:00 pm

"So Gramma's all excited about me starting my Junior year 'cause of prom. She's even pulled out Mom's old dress and is talking about me wearing it. Like in the first place, I don't even know that I wanna go to prom. Second, Mom's dress is big, puffy, and baby pink!"

Edward crinkled his nose. "Baby pink? With your hair color? What on Earth is your Grandmother thinking?"

Beside him, Ellen shrugged. "I dunno. I think she's just missing Mom."

"Perhaps," Edward said. Father and daughter were walking down the street that led to Edward's apartment from Downtown. Ellen had wanted to spend some time in Gotham Central Park, sketching the people she saw. Edward had indulged her, despite the too-bright sun that hurt his head even with the glasses and the oppressive humidity that forced him to wear a short-sleeve shirt. If he could be honest with himself, the time he'd spent with her today was the only time he'd felt even a bit happy this past week. In between her sketches, Ellen had chatted up a storm about everything from her upcoming Junior year, to the unpleasant visit from her aunt earlier that month, to the new exercises she'd taken up, to how her friend Marisol was faring in Puerto Rico. Edward had chimed in with his own commentary, but for the most part, he let her dominate the conversation while he kept a lookout. Oswald assured him no one in Edward's former social circle knew of Ellen, but he knew how easily that could change.

"Dad?"

Edward, startled out of his thoughts, looked down at Ellen. She was staring up at him with her head cocked. "Yes?" he asked.

"Are you ok?" she asked. "You've got that faraway look on your face."

Edward shook his head. "I've had a lot on my mind this week, Ellen, sorry. What were you saying?"

"I was saying that I told Gramma that if I was gonna go to prom, that I was gonna wear a suit, and she got all crabby about it."

"Well, if you're serious about it, I'll take you in to get tailored for a suit," Edward said. He always enjoyed getting one over on that judgemental, bitter old hag Rachel Dixon. "You'll be the most stylish girl at your prom."

Ellen grinned. "Yeah, just as long as you don't try to get me to wear sequins."

Edward put a hand to his chest. "Is that the thanks I get for being a supportive father?" he mock-whined. Ellen snorted in laughter at his dramatics, which made Edward smile. It was nice, if only for a little while, to forget his inner turmoil and pretend that he was happy.

When she was finished laughing, Ellen looked back up at him. "Are you feeling any better, Dad?"

Edward's smile fell. He knew she meant well, but if he wasn't willing to talk about his feelings with a trained psychiatrist, he certainly wasn't going to do so with his sixteen-year-old. "I'll live, Ellen."

Ellen huffed then placed her hands on the back of her head. She seemed to be pondering something. "You really miss Doc, don't you? Why don't you just call her?"

Edward paused for a moment before he started walking again. Ellen may not be at his level of genius, but she was perceptive. Too perceptive for her own good at times. "She asked for space, so I'm going to give it to her. If she wants to reach out to me, she will." She hadn't in the past week, and Edward thought it was unlikely that she would this week.

Ellen shrugged. "Maybe she's waiting on you. Maybe you should make some kind of gesture for her, show her that you really care about her."

"Oh?" Edward asked, raising an eyebrow. "You think I should stand outside her home and hold a boombox over my head?"

Ellen pulled a face. "Ew, no, don't do that. That's creepy."

Edward shook his head. "Most romantic gestures you see in the movies are, I'm afraid. And at any rate, Penelope's not the sort of person those kinds of gestures work on." He allowed himself to think about her, finally. She deserved sincerity, stability. Neither of which were things he could give her. Another wave of bitterness went through him. She was better off without him.

Ellen slowly lowered her hands and pursed her lips. "Yeah, you're right. Don't worry Pops, I'll help you think of something."

Edward gently pat the top of her head. "In the first place, I'm not in love with her, Ellen. In the second, I'm the parent, you're the child. I'm the one who should be giving you sage advice, not the other way around."

Ellen jut out her lower lip. "Sorry. I just don't like it when you're all mopey and quiet. It's wrong."

Edward chuckled as a surge of affection for his child went through him, washing the bitterness away. "Someone complaining that I'm too quiet? There's a first time for everything I suppose. Anyway, enough about my woes. What else is on your mind?"

Ellen looked like she didn't want to change the subject, but she shrugged. "I'm thinking about getting my haircut before school starts." She reached up to tug at her right pigtail. "I think I'm getting too old for these."

"No argument here," Edward quipped. "You're not planning on getting a buzzcut I hope?"

Ellen pulled another face. "Nah. I wanna get it cut short like Selina and Nina, but I don't think Gramma will let me. She'd think it'd be too boyish."

"Well given that the woman wants to put a girl with bright red hair in a baby pink dress, I think it's safe to say that her fashion sense is lacking. Selina and Nina would be flattered by the imitation."

Ellen's face was lit up with a grin. "You think?"

Edward gave her an indulgent smile. "I know so." They were less than a block away from his apartment building now. "Once we get back to my place, start thinking about what you want for dinner tonight. We can go to the store to shop-" Edward stopped in his tracks. From his vantage point, he could see cars in his parking lot. A small black car, and a white van. The black car alone was insignificant but on the side of the white van he could make out one word all too clearly: ARKHAM. Every nerve ending in his body was set aflame. At long last, Strange was making a move. In front of the van, he could see four men, one in a grey suit, the other three in what appeared to be the standard Arkham issue security guard uniform. More than enough to take him, caught off-guard as he was. The cane he was carrying at the moment was a regular cane, he usually didn't have any of his more specialized gear on him on his outings with-his blood ran cold. Ellen.

"Dad?" Edward's head snapped to look at his daughter. She thankfully had stopped when he did, her eyes wide at the sight of the Arkham van. "What's going on?"

Edward looked back towards his parking lot to make sure the men hadn't made him before gripping tightly onto Ellen's backpack straps and pulling her towards the cover of an adjacent alley. Once they were out of sight, Edward moved his hands to her shoulders, leaning down so that he was looking his daughter directly in the eyes. "Get out of here," he said. "Go straight back home and lock the door behind you. Then call Selina."

"What about you? What are you gonna do?"

Edward took a breath. He didn't know if this was an intimidation tactic or if Strange was attempting to re-commit him, but there was only one way to find out. And Ellen couldn't be any part of it. "I'm going to have a little chat with these fine gentlemen." He pulled away, only for Ellen to grab onto his arm.

"No!" she shouted. "Dad, you can't! You need to get away too!"

"Sweetheart," Edward said as patiently as he could. "If Strange is after me, running will only make it worse. And I'm not about to bring you into it. Get out of here."

Ellen shook her head. "I'm not leaving you! You can't make me! I can help-"

"Ellen, this is not going to be a repeat of what happened with Bolton. I am never putting you in that position again. Get out of here."

Ellen stamped her foot. "No!"

Edward gripped her shoulders again, tighter this time. His patience was at an end. "God damn it, Ellen!" he hissed. "For once in your life, do what I say!" At the anguished, frightened look in her eyes, Edward loosened his grip and remembered himself. He drew his daughter into a hug and kissed the top of her head. "I'll call you when I get back. Now please, go home." When he pulled away, he saw tears forming in her eyes.

"Dad, please, don't," Ellen gasped.

"I'll be fine, sweetheart," Edward tried to reassure her. If this was the last time he'd see his daughter, he would not break in front of her. He gave her a wink. "It's me, remember?" Then he turned on his heel and walked out of the alleyway, back towards his apartment parking lot, trying to ignore Ellen's pleading.

Fortunately, the men seemed to be too wrapped up in their conversation to notice as Edward closed the distance. Which was fortunate, as it allowed him to both make sure Ellen wasn't following him and to study them. The man in the suit was on the shorter side, with thinning brown hair. The picture of a milquetoast bureaucrat. The three security guards looked just as Edward thought they would. Big, bulky, and stupid. No doubt cut from the same cloth as Bolton and his minions. When he was about fifty feet away, Edward took one last look behind him. Ellen remained out of sight. He turned around, relaxed his shoulders and painted on a smirk. With Ellen safely hidden, it was time to let the Riddler out to play. "Gentlemen!" he called out when he was less than ten feet away. At the sound of his voice, all four men's heads snapped his direction. The three security guards tensed up while the man in the suit's eyes nearly bugged out. Edward had to chuckle at that. "I'm afraid you've caught me on my day off. My regular consulting hours will resume tomorrow at 9 AM."

One of the security guards, a particularly ugly man with his head shaved bald stepped forward, only to be stopped by the bureaucrat holding his arm out. "Mr. Nigma," he spoke in a deceptively deep voice. "My name is Arthur Graves. I'm the head administrator at Arkham Asylum. I'm here on behalf of Warden Hugo Strange."

Edward placed the tip of his cane onto the ground and leaned his chin against the handle. He noted the guards' expressions darkening at the sight of it and his smirk grew wider. "Is that so?"

Graves visibly gulped. "Yes. Under his authority as Warden of Arkham Asylum, Professor Strange is enacting Gotham City Ordinance 352."

Edward arched an eyebrow. "I'm not up to date on municipal law. Gotham City Ordinance 352 is...?"

"Oh, yes," Graves said. "Any released inmates of Arkham must make themselves available for further treatment at any time requested by the warden of Arkham Asylum, or be in violation of their parole."

So it was an attempt at a re-committal. "I'm sorry," Edward said in a smug tone, "But I was under the impression that that only applied to patients released after the ordinance was passed. I haven't been an Arkham patient for two years now, three if you count the coma. And forgive me for being pedantic, but I'm not on parole. I was medically cleared. There's a slight difference."

Graves made a pitiful attempt at a smirk himself. "And if you'd been a regular patient, we wouldn't be here. However, you were a super criminal. It's in the public interest that the new regulations are more strictly applied to your kind."

My kind? Edward thought. He stood up straight, as tall as he could make himself. His display did not affect the guards, but Graves himself took a step back, almost hiding behind one of the burlier men. "Am I being detained? Should I consult my attorney?"

"I don't think that's necessary," Graves said, holding his hands up. "Given recent events, Warden Strange would just like to have a single session with you, make sure everything's alright."

Hugo Strange being concerned for anyone's welfare? Edward would believe that the day Batman unmasked himself in public. "And if I refuse?"

One of the guards stepped forward then, cracking his knuckles. "Please do, freak. Make our day."

"Now, now, there's no need for that," Graves said. "Mr. Nigma, if you won't cooperate, things will just get messy. Warden Strange will want to question certain associates of yours about this matter. I'm sure you'd rather they not get involved."

'Certain associates'. Given the context, that could only mean Penny. Edward's grip tightened on the handle of his cane and he narrowed his eyes at Graves. The slimy worm of a man went pale. Then Edward relaxed. "Very well," he said. "If the good Professor wants a session with me, best not to keep him waiting."

Graves visibly relaxed. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Nigma. I assure you, it won't take up much of your time." He stepped aside to allow Edward access to the back of the van. Edward walked through the gauntlet of guards, only to be stopped by one.

"Hand over your cane, freak," the man hissed. Edward handed it over without a word. The guard stepped to the side then and allowed him to climb into the back of the van.

Before he stepped in, Edward considered Graves. The milquetoast actually looked pleased with himself. "Arthur Graves," he murmured. "I'll remember you and what you said about my 'associates'." Graves' smirk disappeared and was replaced by a look of fear. He quickly scurried off back towards his car. One of the guards followed Edward into the back of the Arkham van and took a seat on the bench opposite him. Edward heard the other two shut the van door, then walk around to the front of the vehicle. As the van took off, Edward leaned back, schooling his face to a neutral expression. So Strange wants a session? he thought. I'll give him one he'll never forget.

Ellen had waited a few minutes before she made her way out of the alley, hugging the side of the buildings as she crept closer to the apartment parking lot, being careful to stay out of sight. She could see her father talking with the men, but she couldn't hear anything they were saying. When she was about fifteen feet away, she crouched behind a car parked along the street. She could just make out her father's voice. "If the good Professor wants a session with me, best not to keep him waiting." Ellen's stomach dropped. No! Dad! She peeked her head around the car and watched helplessly as her father got into the back of the Arkham van. She bit her lip to keep from calling out to him. She wouldn't do him any good if she got caught. She watched as the van peeled off north, towards Arkham. The fourth guy, the guy in the suit Dad seemed to have been talking with stayed standing by his car. Ellen realized he was talking on a phone.

"Nigma's on his way now. What time will you be there?" While he was wrapped in conversation, Ellen got up from behind the car. She'd seen enough, time to get help. Who though? Dad had told her to call Selina, but he needed a whole cavalry. She didn't have any way of contacting Red Hood, especially during day time, and she couldn't take the time to go to his hideout and hope he was there. Then a flash came to her. Batgirl. She still had Batgirl's number in her backpack. She went to pull off her backpack when a voice reached her ears. "Hey! You!"

Ellen looked towards the voice. It was the wormy looking man. He'd finished his phonecall and had noticed her. Crap, Ellen thought.

"Who are you?" the man said, taking a few steps closer. "Where'd you come from?"

Ellen finished taking off her backpack and put it on the ground before she faced the man, squaring up her shoulders. "None of your business, asswipe!"

The Wormy Man's face colored a bit, then looked quizzically at her as he got closer. "Wait, you look like-" His eyes widened. "Oh my God. You're the daughter. I remember Strange and Bolton talking about you."

Ellen's eyes narrowed. "What of it?" She kept her fists balled up at her sides. Wait for it, she heard Red Hood's voice. Wait for it.

The Wormy Man was five feet from her now. "I'm sure your father would appreciate you showing up to support him," he said in a deep, oily tone. "Why don't you come with me?"

Ellen took a glance at her surroundings. No one around. This time of day, Dad's neighborhood was usually clear. Perfect. She brought her left leg forward and settled into a fighting stance like Red Hood had shown her. "No," she said.

The Wormy Man reached a hand out towards her. "I'm afraid I must insist." He grabbed her left wrist.

Now. Ellen brought her right palm up and, using all her momentum, smashed it hard against the Wormy Man's nose. He immediately dropped her wrist and brought his hands up to his bleeding nose.

"My nose!" he cried out. "You broke it!" Ellen jumped back, both of her fists up and at the ready. The man glared at her and she smirked back. The man balled one of his fists back. "You little bitch!" he yelled. He swung wildly at her.

Ellen easily ducked the flailing man's punch and got into his space, punching him hard in the stomach. She then kicked his legs out from underneath him, sending him sprawling onto the concrete. He lay on his side, wheezing in pain, and Ellen stood over him, contemplating her next move. This man had taken her Dad away from her and looked smug while he did it, now he was at her mercy. "Aww, what's the matter, chucklefuck?" she taunted. "Got beat by a little girl?"

The man rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes. Through the blood running down his face, Ellen could see his fear. It felt good. He held his hands up. "P-please," he begged. "D-don't kill me. Don't kill me."

Ellen crouched down and grabbed the man by his shirt collar. "You took my Dad. You were gonna use me against him, you chicken piece of shit!" she hissed. The man whimpered. Ellen brought her fist back. "You tell Strange and Bolton," she said. "That Enigma says hello." She punched him in his face hard, and the man went limp. Ellen got up and took a step back. The man was out cold, but he wouldn't be for long. Time to get out of here. Ellen picked up her backpack and dashed into her father's building. Once inside the building, she set the backpack down, unzipped the front pocket and began digging. Where are you, where are you...Finally, her fingers gripped onto a slip of paper. She pulled it out of her backpack and with her other hand, pulled out her cell phone. She stood back up and dialed the number. As the phone rang, she realized that her breath was coming in deep gasps. The adrenaline from the fight probably. "Breathe," she told herself like she imagined Red Hood would say to her if he was here. "Just breathe." She took a deep breath, as a familiar voice on the other end picked up.

"Hello?"

"Batgirl?" Ellen asked. "It's Enigma."

"Ellie?" Batgirl asked, surprised. Wait, when had she found out her nickname? "Oh my God! What's going on? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Ellen said, keeping her voice calm. "It's my Dad. Some creeps from Arkham took him away."

"Arkham? Are you sure?"

"I saw the van!" Ellen shouted. "They're taking him to Arkham right now! I heard them saying Strange wants a session with him! Look, I know what's going on between my Dad and Strange! Are you gonna help him or not?"

There was a pause before Batgirl spoke again. "It's going to be okay," she said. "I'm going to call Batman. We're going to get this figured out. Where are you right now? Do you need me to come get you?"

"I'm at my Dad's apartment," Ellen said. She worried her lip before she decided to lie. "I'm gonna call Selina Kyle, she's a friend of my Dad. I'll get her to take me home."

"Good," Batgirl said. "When you get home, stay there. We'll get your Dad back, I promise."

"Thank you," Ellen said before hanging up the phone. Talking to Batgirl has calmed her down. Now she was determined. "Stay home?" She whispered to herself. "Not this time." Probably never again. Ellen pulled her backpack onto her shoulders, stepped back out into the parking lot and made her way back to where she left the Wormy Man. He was still out cold. Ellen crouched down and emptied his pockets, finding a wallet and a set of car keys. She hadn't begun driving lessons, so the keys were useless to her. She tossed them across the parking lot. Have fun finding them when you wake up, chucklefuck. Next, she took $100 in cash from the man's wallet. That should be more than enough to get a cab to the North Side. Then on to Arkham.

Her tasks complete, Ellen stood up and ran down the street, towards the direction she saw the van take her father. Hang on, Old Man, she thought. I'm coming.