Edward's memories of his life before he'd awoken from his coma were scarce, but the long ride from Gotham's interior to Arkham Island cooped up in the back of an Arkham transport van, seemed painfully familiar to him. He thought he'd heard his cell phone vibrate during the trip across the bridge that led to the island, but he didn't answer it. The security guard sitting across from him in the back of the van had his beady hazel eyes fixed on him, almost daring him to make a false move. Edward didn't indulge him and kept his hands folded in front of him. On the trip, he focused on his plan once he was in the Asylum. As inconvenient and frightening as this was, it was also a golden opportunity to see for himself what was going on in Arkham Asylum. He didn't have any recording equipment on him, so his observations would have to do. He smirked, despite his situation. Strange may think he was exerting power over him, but really, he'd allowed the fox into the henhouse. As long as he kept his cool and prevented Strange from getting into his head, he had nothing to fear. He'd be having dinner with Ellen tonight after all.

The van came to a stop at last. Edward stretched his arms above his head and gave a jaunty nod to his companion. "Well, we're here. Best not to keep the good doctor waiting."

"Shut your mouth shut, freak," the guard hissed, pulling himself off. "Keep your hands where I can see 'em."

Edward slowly held his hands up and waved them. "Fair enough." He supposed he should be grateful he wasn't handcuffed. The back door opened and Edward involuntarily squinted at the sunlight of the late afternoon. He gave another nod to the guard. "By all means, after you."

The guard responded by reaching across the van and grabbing Edward by the shirt collar. "Get up, freak!" He all but pushed Edward out of the back of the van. Edward glared but kept his mouth shut. It would do him any good to mouth off and give the moron an excuse to beat him into submission. He straightened himself up and walked out of the back of the van. He looked up at the building the van was parked in front of and felt a chill of recognition sweep his body. They were in front of the Intensive Treatment Center of Arkham Asylum. For a long moment, Edward stood almost frozen at the sight. He recalled very little of his time as the Riddler, but he remembered that building. In a flash, he remembered being dragged through those front doors, sometimes by guards, sometimes by GCPD, sometimes by Batman himself, always bruised, always bleeding, always angry. He felt that old anger surging within him now. Riddle me this-

"Nigma!" Edward was startled out of his reverie by the voice of one of the other security guards. The two who had been in the front of the van were standing in front of the building, staring at him with impatience. "You comin' or do we have to drag your ass in?"

"I'm coming," Edward said shortly. The last thing he wanted was for anyone of these brutes to lay their hands on him. He didn't know that he'd be able to hold back if they did. He took one last look at the entrance and, swallowing his apprehension, stepped through the threshold. Two of the security guards walked on either side of him, while the third stayed behind him, ready to catch him if he tried to bolt. Edward didn't know if the admitting ward had changed since the last time he'd stepped through the front doors, but something about the sterile atmosphere, the dim lighting, and the gawping faces of the staff seemed familiar to him. Painfully familiar. The guards stopped at the front desk and nodded towards him.

"Empty your pockets and put anything you have on the desk. You can get them when you're done." Edward did as the guard complied, putting his house keys, cell phone, and some loose change he had in front of a wide-eyed receptionist.

"That's seventy-six cents exactly," Edward said, leaning down towards the receptionist. "I expect to get it all back."

The guard behind him gave him a rough shove. "Move it!" Edward turned sharply and bared his teeth, about to say something cutting, but then he shut his mouth at the last possible second. The guard shrank back for a moment before his face twisted in rage. As he pulled his fist back, another guard called out.

"Don't! Strange said he wants the freak in one piece." The guard about to punch Edward glowered for a moment, then lowered his fist. Edward smirked. "Let's go," the second guard continued. "Strange wants us to take him to Interview Room A. He should be here soon."

"What about Reeves?" The third guard asked, looking behind them to the front doors. "Shouldn't he have been right behind us? Where is he?"

That was a good question. Was he stuck in traffic, or had something happened... Edward thought of Ellen and his anxiety spiked up before he willed himself to relax. Ellen was safe. Ellen would be home now, she would have gotten word to Selina. She was safe. He had to believe that. Focus. When the guard behind him pushed him forward again, he went without so much as a word. He allowed the guards to lead him through processing before continuing to the holding cells. As the small procession made their way deeper into the asylum, Edward kept his keen eyes focused on his surroundings, taking in every small detail. Intensive Treatment, from what he was led to understand, had mostly escaped undamaged from the Joker's riot two years earlier. Not a brick seemed to be out of place. The hallways were clean. What struck Edward the most though, was the silence. He couldn't hear any trace of the patients or staff that should be milling about. Where was everyone? He thought of the malfeasance that he and Penelope had uncovered and he felt another dull pain in his heart. Penny...did she know what was going on? And if she did, a dark voice inside him asked, did she care? Edward dug his nails into his palm to break himself out of the ensuing spiral. There was no time for that now. Focus, Edward. Focus. He walked down the main drag through Intensive Treatment, past a service door that he vaguely remembered led down to the sewers underneath Arkham. Down to where Jonathan had died. He screwed his eyes shut. Focus, focus, focus! He opened his eyes and kept them solely focused ahead of him. At last, the group stopped in front of an unassuming room. "Here we are," The guard leading the group said, opening the door. Edward kept his eyes focused on the keypad and committed the code the guard entered into memory. 3112. The door opened, and the first and second guard stood to the sides, allowing the third guard to shove Edward inside. "Make yourself comfortable, freak," the third guard said. "The doctor'll be in real soon!" The guards laughed in Edward's face before shutting the door behind them, the electronic lock beeping loudly. He wasn't going anywhere.

Edward took a look around the room. It was small and brightly lit, the white paint on the walls accentuating the brightness. It was giving him a headache already. In the middle of the room was a metal table, bolted to the floor, with two chairs on either side of it. Edward took a seat in the one on the right side and leaned back, propping his feet on the table. Nothing to do now but wait.

"Bruce, I've managed to hack into Arkham's communications. According to the security guard's feed, Nigma's been taken to an interview room in the Intensive Treatment center."

Bruce expected as much. Strange wouldn't risk taking Edward into his personal office in the Arkham Mansion. "What about Strange?"

"From what I've heard, Strange hasn't begun the session. I'm not even sure he's on Arkham Island."

That was both a relief, as it bought Bruce more time to get to Arkham before Strange could do much damage and concern. If Strange wasn't on Arkham Island, where was he? "Has there been any mention of Dr. Young or Edward's daughter?"

"None. I'll keep monitoring the feed. How soon until you and Alfred get to Arkham?"

Bruce looked out the window. Alfred had managed to get them through Gotham's downtown traffic in record time, and they were now on the narrow road that connected Arkhan Island to the mainland. "We should be there in about fifteen minutes. If you hear anything else, keep me posted." He hung up the phone and was about to put it back into his pocket when, a few dozen feet up the road, a movement caught his eye. It was only for a second, but it looked like something or someone had moved from the side of the road into the thick foliage that made up the landscape before the bridge. "Alfred," Bruce said. "Stop the car."

Alfred pulled over to the rightmost side of the road, maybe three feet away from where Bruce thought he saw the shape disappear. Bruce opened the limousine door and got out, mentally preparing for anything he may find. There hadn't been an escape from Arkham since Strange officially took over. Not yet, at least.

"Sir?" Alfred called from inside the limousine. "Is everything all right?"

Bruce scanned the foliage and narrowed his eyes when he heard the sound of a twig snapping. He was about to go in and confront whoever may be inside when his cell phone rang again. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled it out. It was Barbara again. "What is it?" he asked.

"Strange just arrived back at Arkham. He's about to begin the session. You need to hurry."

"I'm on my way." Bruce hung up, took one last look around and sighed. Whoever it was, escaped patient or a mere vagrant, or maybe just an animal, he didn't have time to deal with it. He stepped back into the limousine and shut the door behind him. "Let's go, Alfred."

As soon as the limousine had pulled out of sight, Ellen emerged from the foliage. "Fuck," she swore, wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead. "That was too close." Who the Hell was that guy? And why was he going to Arkham in a limo? She shook her head, waited for a moment to catch her breath, then continued on her trek. "Almost there, Old Man," she whispered. "Just hang on."

Edward checked his watch for the fifth time since he'd been locked in the interview room. It had been almost an hour since he'd been brought to the asylum. Either Strange was busy committing other atrocities, or this was some kind of power play. Edward huffed. It would take more than that to break him. He'd been spending the time locked in the room mentally reviewing his game plan for Strange's 'session'. He'd had hundreds of sessions with doctors over the past fifteen years of his life and not a single one of them had ever found out more than what he'd wanted them to find. Was that why you had seventy-six sessions with me back in Arkham? To conquer the great challenge that is Edward Nigma? Edward shut his eyes. He couldn't think about her now. It was a distraction that he didn't need, that could prove fatal. He opened his eyes and took another look around the room. He couldn't quite place it, but he felt as if he'd been in this room before, that he'd sat in this same spot. He scoffed. He probably had. He'd probably had countless sessions here with the idiots who called themselves doctors. Perhaps this was the room Penny had treated him in. He shut his eyes again, trying to will the memories of her out of his mind, only to see Batman looming over him. "I know you. Maybe better than you know yourself. Riddles are your addiction, your compulsion, and the riddle that everyone knows is worthless." In a flash, Batman's hands were on him, lifting him by his suit lapel and punching him. "What time is it when an elephant sits on your fence?"

Edward's eyes opened with a start and he nearly fell out of his chair. What...where had that come from? Finally, he heard the electronic lock beeping again. Someone was coming in. Edward relaxed his posture and planted his feet back on the table. Showtime.

The door opened and Professor Hugo Strange entered the room. "Mr. Nigma," he said in his deep, cold baritone. "Welcome back to Arkham Asylum."

Edward made a show of peering up at Strange lazily. It was easy to forget that Strange was a massive man, almost as tall as Batman and almost as powerfully built under that white lab coat. Strange was looking back at Edward, a placid smile over his face, his dark eyes calculating behind those round glasses. Anyone else may have found the warden of Arkham Asylum intimidating. Edward Nigma however, was not 'anyone else'. Time for the good doctor to remember that. Edward let out a yawn, then stretched his arms above his head. "Good afternoon, Professor Strange. Or do you prefer 'Dr'? Or 'Warden'?"

"Any will do," Strange said. He shut the door behind him and walked towards the empty chair. He paused for a moment, looking critically at Edward's feet. He cleared his throat. "If you don't mind."

Edward smirked, then lowered his feet back to the ground. He sat straight up in his chair and put both of his hands on the table. Score one for him. "By all means. It's your session after all."

"Quite," Strange said, sitting down. Edward noticed that he was carrying a large file and what looked like a book. No doubt his old patient file. A fat lot of good it would do Strange now. The book though looked familiar. Strange placed the file and the book face down on the table and looked at Edward with those penetrating dark eyes. "Well now," he said. "When was the last time we met in person? It was when you apprehended Tetch, wasn't it? It's been nearly a year," he folded his hands in front of him. "Now look at us. I am the warden of Arkham Asylum, and you've assisted Batman in capturing Bane." Edward thought he caught a flash of displeasure in Strange's tone, but the man's body language and facial expression gave nothing away. "What an eventful year it has been for both of us."

Edward shrugged. "Well, I certainly can't complain about being bored, that's for certain." Edward gestured to the room around them. "Isn't this a bit much for catching up though? We could have just met at a coffee shop, Hugo."

Strange's face colored at the use of his first name, which almost made Edward snicker. "I trust that you were made aware of the purpose of this session, Edward?"

Edward smirked again at the peevish tone in Strange's voice, the idly waved his hand. "Yes, yes, you'd like to 'check-in on my mental state,' blah blah blah. Why you couldn't have simply asked me before sending your jackboot thugs to collect me at my apartment is beyond me." Edward raised his pointer finger and shook it. "One may think you had less than savory motivations, Hugo."

Strange scowled for a moment at the repeated use of his first name, but his face soon resumed its placid expression. "Now now, Edward. There is no need to be paranoid. I believe that it is in our best interest to conduct this session with as little hostility as possible, don't you agree?"

'As little hostility as possible'? It made Edward want to laugh. If Strange wanted there to be as little hostility between them as possible, he should have thought about that before turning Sharp into his puppet and dragging him into this mess, before using Jervis against him, before allowing Bolton to terrorize his little girl, before he'd allowed Ward and Schrader to sic Bane on Penny. Edward bit his tongue however and nodded in acquiescence. "Very well. Let's get this over with. I had plans for this evening before I was so rudely interrupted."

"I do apologize," Strange said insincerely. "Given how...reluctant you've been to seek out treatment in the past, I thought it best that I ensure your presence here today."

Edward chuckled. "Well, I'm touched Hugo, but I'm afraid I already have a therapist, Dr. Joan Leland. I'm sure you remember her."

"I do," Strange said. "Very well. Tell me though, Edward: how regularly do you see Dr. Leland? Once a week? Twice a month?" Edward frowned, which made Strange smile. "Less than that, I see."

Edward huffed. "Well, I'm a busy man. Not that it's any of your business, but I regularly take my medication."

"How fortunate for us all," Strange drawled. "That alone is not enough, I'm afraid. I have questions that I would like for you to answer."

And there it was, Strange's opening salvo. "Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no tales."

Strange looked down at the file on his desk, then proceeded to open it. He thumbed through its contents before looking back up at Edward. "I have taken the liberty to read through your file, Edward."

Edward yawned again. "Let me see if I remember all of my various diagnoses over the years: Narcissism, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Anti-Social Personality Disorder, Histrionic Personality Disorder, and one gentleman who thought I had DID. Is that everything?"

"Yes," Strange said, with one of his eyebrows raised. "Impressive. It seems that your amnesia was perhaps overstated."

Edward rolled his eyes. "I was given access to my file, thank you very much. What's the point of this?"

"You have indeed had a variety of diagnoses over the years," Strange said. "Aside from that, shall we say, dubious diagnosis of DID, all of your diagnoses stem from a common source: your compulsion to leave riddles, and your even more compulsive need for attention."

Edward narrowed his eyes. "You might want to check your calendar, Professor. I don't leave riddles anymore."

Strange merely smiled, and it chilled Edward to the bone to see it. "No, you don't, but that doesn't mean that the compulsion has left you. All you've done is redirect it. You feed it not by leaving riddles, but by solving cases. Isn't that why you became a private investigator?"

Edward crossed his arms. "I fail to see what's wrong with that. It's a lucrative business for me."

"So, your decision to become a private investigator was entirely a self-serving one."

No one said I ever had to be a good person. "...Your point?"

Strange considered him coldly. "Tell me: how did you benefit from assisting Batman in apprehending Bane?"

Edward raised an eyebrow himself, then he smiled. He leaned back in his chair and placed his hands on the back of his neck. "So that's what this little pow-wow is about. What's wrong, Hugo? Are we feeling a bit intimidated by my success?"

Strange didn't respond to the taunt. Instead, he gave Edward a curious look. "I see you've fallen back on your usual pattern of self-aggrandizement. That does not answer my question, however. Why did you do it?"

Edward thought back to that night, to the frightened look on Penny's face when Bane had Batman in his grasp. "Let's consider that my little riddle for you to solve."

Strange chuckled. "Of course. However, this was not the first incident where you were involved in apprehending a Rogue, now was it? First, there was Tetch. Then Goodman. One might think that you were making it a habit." Strange gave him an almost pitying look. "Your former colleagues can't be too happy with this development."

Edward thought back to his conversation last week with Oswald and slowly lowered his hands. He scoffed. "Well, why should I care what they think? They are former colleagues after all."

"Except you would have had to have known that there would be consequences for opposing them," Strange interrupted. "If it didn't cross your mind at least once, then you are foolish."

"I am not foolish!" Edward shouted. "I can still run circles around you and everyone else in this Godforsaken asylum!"

"Of course you can," Strange said, more amused by Edward's display than anything else. Edward glared at the man, then took a breath. He couldn't afford to lose his composure over a minor slight. "I've considered this question for the past week," Strange continued. "And I've come to three different conclusions. The first being that this is simply a logical extension of your rivalry with Batman. What better way to finally prove yourself his superior than by defeating his Rogues?"

Edward felt his face redden a bit at the mention of the Dark Knight, but he settled for rolling his eyes. "Contrary to what you may think, not everything is about Batman. Why would I needlessly risk my life to prove the obvious?"

"Fair enough," Strange admitted. "And in any case, it is not in your nature to risk your life for anyone's benefit but your own." A smirk tugged at Strange's mouth. "Unless the person was of some benefit to you as well. Hence my next guess." He grabbed the book on the table and held it so that Edward could see the front cover. "Do you recognize this, Edward?"

Edward's blood ran cold. He knew that book, no, that journal all too well. He'd 'borrowed' it last year. On the front cover were the words, Property of Dr. Penelope Young. Strange's absence earlier was because he'd been to Penny's office. In an instant, Edward was out of his chair and slamming both of his hands on the table. "If you," he seethed. "Laid one finger on her Strange, I'll-"

"Calm down," Strange ordered, not batting an eye. "There are two armed guards outside as I speak. One word from me, and they will be in to subdue you. I'm sure you don't want that. Neither do I. After all, I have more questions for you. Now sit down."

Edward stood for a moment, his body shaking in rage. More than anything, he wished he possessed Bane's strength so that he could tear the smug bastard apart piece by piece, for presuming to go anywhere near her. Slowly, he sat back down in his chair, his eyes locked onto Strange.

"That's better," Strange said. His smile grew wider. "I see that despite your reputation for self-centeredness, you are quite fond of Dr. Young." A shadow passed over Strange's face. "Fond enough to assist her in standing against me." Edward's face must have shown surprise, for Strange chuckled again. "Yes, Edward, I am quite aware that the two of you have been working in concert. Or at least, you were. Apprehending Bane wasn't enough to keep her from leaving you, was it? One should not be too surprised, considering what she's written about you." Strange opened the journal and began to read a passage. "This is yet another interview with Edward Nigma. I have yet to make up my mind whether he is a genius or just deluded. Whichever one he is, just being in his company is both irritating and exhausting.'" Strange shut the journal and peered back at Edward. "Your Dr. Young is quite unharmed," he said. "She freely gave me this journal. No coercion was necessary."

Edward's heart sank slightly before he steeled himself. That journal was years out of date. No wonder Penny turned it over. Her current journal, the one that contained her real thoughts was hidden away somewhere. She'd never turn it over to Strange. She'd never betray him. Edward rolled his eyes dismissively. "I'm fully aware I was less than a pleasant patient, Strange. And if you think that that's the worst thing my friends and associates have ever said about me, well..." he chuckled. "You clearly haven't met them."

"I'm sure," Strange said. He leaned in slightly closer to Edward. "Just as I'm sure Dr. Young has said positive things to you as well. How far you've come since you were the Riddler, how you can be so much more than a criminal. Do you really think though, Edward, that despite everything that you've done since you were released, despite every case that you've solved, that she has ever forgotten who you used to be? Do you think that there is a moment that goes by that she doesn't remember just what you've done, what you're capable of? Whatever she may have said to you, her absence from your life today speaks volumes of what she really thinks."

Edward said nothing but looked down at his hands, the memory of the last time he saw Penny running through his mind. The memory of her walking out of his door and his life, and the empty feeling that had been inside of him ever since. Had she ever meant it? Any of it? He saw her then, clear as day, as she'd been when he'd seen her last. "When I needed it the most, you held my hand and told me that I was better than what I thought I was. No matter what happens, I'll always be grateful to you for that. I wasn't so angry just because of Harley. I was angry because I've seen for myself that you can do and be better." He clenched his fists, then looked back up at Strange. Then he laughed. "Cute, Hugo," he said between chuckles. "Attempting to use my non-existent romantic woes against me. A bit maudlin though, don't you think? Since you've already revealed that you know about my previous partnership with Dr. Young, let me put my cards on the table." He carded his hands and smirked at Strange. "Yes, I have been working against you, even before I crossed paths with the good Dr. Young. I've been working against you for over a year now, and in that time, I've found out things. I know that Sharp's your glorified rubber stamp. I know that Schrader and Ward are your creatures in GCPD and Blackgate, respectively. I know that they were behind Bane. I even know about Sharp's predilection for murder." He noted the small look of surprise on Strange's face and smirked wider. "And I know what this whole session's about. You've been content to ignore me for the past year after your previous attempt at committing me was foiled, but now you can't afford to. I'm a threat to you now, and you know it. Did you think it was going to be that easy to intimidate me Strange? I spent fifteen years matching wits with the Dark Knight himself, and let me be frank: you don't even begin to compare with him." Strange's dark eyes flashed like burning coals, and Edward knew he'd touched a nerve. He filed that away formulated his next response. "Regardless of what Dr. Young does or doesn't do, I will not stop being a thorn in your side, Strange." Edward leaned back in his chair and gave Strange a smug look. "Are we done?"

Strange folded his hands in front of his face. "I see. And then what, Edward?"

Edward blinked. "Then what?"

"Say you do continue to act against me. Let us, for argument's sake, say that you manage to uncover whatever 'nefarious' scheme I have concocted. Given what little you've managed to discover in a year, it is doubtful, but I will indulge you. You expose me and the mayor and drive us from Gotham. Then what, Edward? Will solving that case cure your compulsions? Will it earn you the respect and accolades you feel entitled to from the people of Gotham? Will it finally prove your superiority to Batman? Will it make Dr. Young love you? Will it fill that hole that your father left inside of you, all those years ago?" Edward opened his mouth, but no words came out. Strange lowered his hands and smiled now that he was in full control. "Now we come to my third hypothesis. Do you remember our conversation after you apprehended Patrick Horner? I told you that I engineered your involvement in that caper to see what kind of man you were. Who is Edward Nigma when riddles are no longer in the equation?" His voice became even lower and so cold that ice seemed to flow from him, chilling Edward to the bone. "It has become clear to me throughout this session that you still cannot answer this simple question. Even though more than a year has passed, you are still as unsure of yourself as you were the day you set foot out of rehabilitation. You have used this 'case' as it were, to keep yourself from admitting that you have no idea who you are." Strange laughed, matching Edward's in his intensity. "And you think you are in any way a threat to me? Tell me, what do I have to fear from a man who knows nothing of himself?"

Oswald's, Penelope's, Bullock's, and even his voices began to overlap in Edward's mind, overwhelming him. It'll be you soon enough freak! I'm not a good person. No one ever said I had to be a good person. You are changing even if you can't see that yet-I've seen for myself that you can do and be better-Riddle me this: who are you? Who are you? WHO ARE YOU? He slammed both of his hands over his ears. "Stop!" he cried out. Then he remembered where he was. Strange stared pitilessly at him, smug satisfaction on his face. Edward lowered his hands and glared at the man. "If I'm not a threat to you," he asked. "Then why am I here?"

Strange acknowledged his question with a slight nod. "I have an offer for you."