Edward immediately narrowed his eyes. "An offer?" he repeated. He folded his hands in front of him on the table. "You dragged me here off the streets, seem to have taken great delight in deconstructing every part of my life, said I'm no threat to you, and now you want to make me an offer?" Edward let out a disbelieving chuckle. "Forgive me if I'm skeptical."

"Understandable," Strange said with a firm nod of his head. "You and I have found ourselves at odds over this past year. Now that I have had the opportunity to speak with you, however, I can see that you are not, and indeed, never have been any threat to me." Edward bristled, his ego chaffing at the insult. Strange merely chuckled. "Not perhaps, the way the Riddler might have been. But I see a way for you to be my ally."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "'Your ally'? Riddle me this: why on Earth would I ally myself with a man who attempted to re-commit me just last year?"

Strange smiled. "Because I can give what you want the most: answers. The answers that have eluded you for the past two years." Strange leaned in closer to Edward, his voice a low murmur. "I can help you find rediscover who you truly are."

A chill ran down Edward's spine, but it wasn't one of fear. He realized with no small horror, that he was intrigued. "Oh? And why would I need your help with that?"

Strange chuckled again, a deep rumbling sound that seemed to envelop Edward. "It is plain for all to see Edward, that despite your admittingly admirable commitment to your reformation, that you have never fully been comfortable in your new life." Strange peered at him quizzically. "You feel as if you are playing a part, don't you? A part that has been increasingly difficult to play. It is evident from your display earlier how much it has been wearing down on you." The look on Strange's face turned to one that on anyone else, might have been pity. On Strange, however, it looked like a predator sizing up his prey. "You look tired, Edward."

He was tired. So tired. Edward wasn't about to let that on to Strange though. Instead, he huffed. "This is getting tedious, Hugo. So you want to help me recover my memories of my old life. I assume you aren't offering this out of the kindness of your heart. What do you want in return?"

Strange folded his hands. "In return? I want you to cease your meddling in my affairs. Given that you are no longer working with Dr. Young, that should be simple enough." Edward stiffened at Penelope's name being mentioned and Strange raised a hand. "I can also guarantee Dr. Young's continued good health, regardless of what she may do." When Edward forced himself to relax, Strange continued. "There is one additional thing I require your assistance with."

Edward clenched his hands. "I will never act against Dr. Young-"

"And I would never ask you to," Strange interrupted. He shook his head. "Your loyalty to her is touching, though, given her absence here, it is unreciprocated. Do you think, Edward, that there is a place for a man like you in the new order she wishes to create?"

Edward knew damn well there wasn't. "But there's a place for me in yours?"

"There could be," Strange said. "Provided you assist me in undermining our common enemy."

This was it. The confirmation of a months-old suspicion. Edward wet his lower lip. "I assume you're talking about Batman."

Strange nodded. "Exactly so. Think about it, Edward. Who is responsible for the year-long coma you were in? For the loss of your memories? For the fifteen years, you spent in and out of confinement? Even now, despite all of your accomplishments, who is it that still holds you at arm's length, still looks at you with suspicion, is still counting down the days until you relapse?"

Edward remembered every late-night encounter he'd had with Batman over the past year. Every sharp reproach, every glare. What really, was the difference between Batman and Strange? "There are a lot of people in Gotham who don't want you to succeed Edward. Gordon's not one of those people. Neither am I." Batman had said that, and he'd seemed to mean it, but...he let Jonathan die. There was a part of him, deep down, that wanted to make the vigilante suffer for that. Edward took a sharp breath. Focus, Edward. Focus. "And just what is Batman to you?"

Strange's face took on a blank expression. "Batman...is a symbol of everything broken about this city. In almost twenty years, how much has he truly done to control crime? How much pain and suffering has he caused through his actions or inactions? Would you and the rest of your ilk even exist if it wasn't for him?"

Edward frowned. "I was a criminal long before I crossed paths with Batman." A criminal, yes. Edward would be lying though if he said that the costume, the showmanship, and the escalation of his antics hadn't been slightly influenced by his rivalry with Batman. "So then, that's your big plan? Undermine Batman? I have to say, I'm a bit disappointed."

Strange smiled coldly. "Now now, Edward. You haven't earned the right to hear my full plan. All I will say to you is that I intend to create a world where Batman is made redundant."

A smirk managed to find its way to Edward's face. "And if a few criminals and Arkham patients have to die to make that happen?"

"Unfortunate, but unavoidable." Strange smirked at Edward. "Well, Edward? Work with me, and I will give you what you crave the most: answers, and vengeance. What say you?"

A stillness seemed to permeate the room after Strange's question. Edward looked at the man and pondered. He didn't trust the man any further than he could throw him, and he knew a set-up when he saw one. As soon as Batman was out of the picture, or possibly sooner, Strange would try to dispose of him. On the other hand...this was the best possible chance he had of uncovering the answers to this case, of finally remembering who he truly was, of finding his way out of the suffocating limbo of guilt and confusion that he'd found himself in. Could he walk away from that? But what about Penelope? What would she think? She wasn't here, a dark voice inside of him said. She wasn't here, and he was tired of fooling himself into believing he was as good as she thought he was. Finally, he spoke. "I-"

A loud knocking at the door interrupted Edward. Strange turned his head, fury written all over his features. "I am still in a session!"

The sound of one of the guard's voices came through muffled. "Sorry, Warden, but we've got a problem. Wayne's here."

Wayne? Bruce Wayne? What on Earth was he doing here? Edward recalled he was supervising the renovations to the Asylum, but it was a bit late in the day for that. His attention was drawn to the dark shadow that passed over Strange's face. The warden took a moment to compose himself, then stood out of his chair. "Well," he said in a clipped tone. "Best not to keep Mr. Wayne waiting. We will have further opportunities to discuss this." He gave Edward a sharp nod. "Are you coming, Edward?"

Edward got out of his chair and followed Strange out of the room without a word.

Wayne was in the same admitting ward Edward had been in a mere hour earlier with his arms folded across his chest. As Edward drew closer, he could make out the dark expression on the billionaire's face, one that only worsened as he and Strange approached. "Mr. Wayne," Strange called out. "What a surprise. I was unaware anything was requiring your supervision today."

Wayne looked past Strange to where Edward was standing beside the warden. The serious look on his face...it felt familiar to him, somehow. What time is it when an elephant sits on your fence? "I'm not here about the renovations, Professor Strange," Wayne said in a cold tone. "I'm here to pick up Edward Nigma."

Well. That threw Edward for a loop. Strange merely nodded. "Of course. Mr. Nigma is free to go." As Edward walked past Strange towards Wayne, he heard the Warden call after him. "Think about what we discussed, Edward. You know how to get in touch with me." Edward turned around and saw that Strange once again had a cold smile on his face. "Goodbye, Edward."

Edward turned around and walked briskly towards the front desk. "My items, if you please," he said to the star-struck receptionist too busy staring at Wayne to pay him much mind. The receptionist idly handed him a plastic bag containing his personal effects. Once he had the bag in hand, Edward silently stormed out of the admitting room, out of Arkham, his mind a whirlwind. Who are you? Who are you? Who are you?

Strange watched as Wayne followed Nigma out, his smile never leaving his face. Too little, too late Mr. Wayne, he thought. Edward Nigma is mine. Sooner or later, he will agree to my offer. And when he does, when he strikes against you, Gotham will see him for what he is. He will prove me right, and you and Young wrong, and you will all fall with him. It is only a matter of time...

"How did you know I was here?" Edward asked as he and Wayne walked to the visitor's parking lot. He could just make out the figure of Wayne's old butler, Alfred, he thought his name was, standing by the sleek black limousine. He'd met the man once at a gala party, over a year earlier. Before Strange, before Penelope, before his entire sense of self was turned upside down.

"A mutual friend told me you were in trouble," Wayne said conversationally. "Dr. Joan Leland."

For a brief moment, Edward thought Wayne was talking about Penelope and his heart leaped up, only to plummet back down. Of course, it would be Dr. Leland. Did Penelope even know? Did she care? "I'm surprised you cared enough to come out here," he said, not bothering to disguise the bitterness.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wayne's face drop. "Edward," the man said gently. "I don't know what Strange told you, but you have a lot of people who are concerned about you."

Edward knew that, but he didn't need to hear it. He didn't need yet another reminder of all the people he'd failed. "Spare me the platitudes," he said, holding up the hand that wasn't carrying the plastic bag. "I don't want to hear them. I just want to go home."

Wayne looked liked he wanted to say more, but his shoulders slumped. "Alright. I can drop you home." He led Edward to the rear passenger seat once they approached the limousine and let him climb in the back before he joined him. The seats were a rich leather and at any other time, Edward would have enjoyed riding in a limousine, but now he barely took notice of them or of the old English butler's attempts to make conversation with him. The limousine started and Edward idly looked out the window as the car turned back down the narrow road past the front gates and security perimeters, towards the bridge that led back to Gotham City proper. As they drove in silence past the dense foliage, he went over his encounter with Strange over and over again in his mind, and his thoughts began to grow darker. There was one thing that Strange had said in particular that stuck in his brain. I can see that you are not, and indeed, never have been any threat to me. Not perhaps, the way the Riddler might have been...Perhaps that was the answer. If Edward Nigma, Private Investigator wasn't enough to strike fear into Strange's heart then maybe the Riddler would. Edward's eyes narrowed. Yes. He'd take Strange's offer. He'd work with the man, he'd bleed him dry of all the information he had about his plans, he'd accept his help with recovering his memories, he'd help humiliate Batman, then he would double-cross Strange and he'd go back to the man he'd used to be and make everyone happy. Penelope would hate him for it, but she was gone. Deirdre, Nina, Selina, and Oswald might be disappointed, but they'd stand by him. The other Rogues and GCPD would quake in their boots when he reminded them of what he was truly capable of. What did he have to lose? Riddle me this? Who are you? Answer: I am-

"Good lord!" he heard the butler's voice ring out. "There's a child on the road!"

Edward's attention snapped to the front of the limousine, and the slight figure he could see ambling at the foot of the bridge. At first, he thought it might have been an escaped patient, but he saw the child, a girl with bright red pigtails. And his eyes. "Stop the car!" he screamed, pulling at the door handle. "Stop the damn car!" The limousine jerked to a stop as the butler slammed on the brakes. The car was barely in park before Edward had forced the door open and ran towards the girl on the bridge. "Ellen!"

Ellen broke out into a run at the sight of him. "Dad!" she called out. "Dad!" Edward met her ten feet from the car and wrapped her up in his arms. "Dad," she cried, hugging him tightly. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Edward said. "I'm fine." He let go of her and pushed her away, gripping her tightly on her shoulders. He remembered where they were and his panic gave way to anger. "What the Hell are you doing here!?"

Ellen glared at him. "I came to help you! I couldn't let Strange's goons take you away!"

"So you had the bright idea of breaking into Arkham Asylum!?" Edward shouted. "Jesus Christ, Ellen! Do you have any idea how stupid that was!?"

Ellen's eyes filled up with tears. "I know," she said, wiping her eyes. "I know it was dumb, but you're my Dad, and you were in trouble. What was I supposed to do?"

All of Edward's anger dissipated in that instant. "Ellen-"

"Mom died," Ellen continued, tears streaming down her face. "Marisol's gone. I've only known you a year, and you've almost gotten killed twice! I know you don't want me to get involved in this shit with Strange, but I can't just stand back and do nothing! I don't want to lose you too!"

Edward found himself without anything to say. My willful little girl, he thought. You'd follow me into Hell on roller skates, wouldn't you? Then he had an epiphany. God, she would. She'd come to him even knowing what he was and wanted him to be her father. She hadn't wanted to leave him when he'd been taken away. She was willing to walk onto Arkham Island itself to protect him. If he went back to being the Riddler...she'd follow him then too. She would follow him right back into that Hell before she walked away from him. Dr. Leland's words last year came back to him with startling clarity. It's not just your life you need to be thinking about now. Going back to the Riddler, giving in to that impulse wouldn't just alter his life. It would destroy Ellen's. How could he do that to her, after everything else he'd done to upend her life? Penelope's words rang in his mind. Maybe you're right, and she doesn't need the Riddler, or even Edward Nigma, Private Investigator in her life. But she needs her father, now more than ever. Ellen needed her father, and here he was, about to deprive her of him all over again. How could he do that? "Ellen," he whispered. He hugged her to his chest, letting her cry against the front of his shirt. Riddle me this: who are you? He was Edward Nigma, private investigator, formerly the Riddler, but more importantly, he was a father. He couldn't, wouldn't let Strange manipulate him into forsaking his child. Even if Penelope was gone, Ellen was still here, and she needed him. Even if, as Strange said, he was playing a part he was ill-suited for, he had a daughter and a responsibility to live up to. "My little hellion," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry. I haven't been as mindful of you as I should have been."

Ellen peered up at him, her eyes were red-rimmed. "Dumb Old Man," she sniffed. "I'm sick of having to come running after you."

Edward huffed. "You should talk. Did you or did you not put on a costume and give me a heart attack six months ago?"

Ellen rolled her eyes. "Yeah, where do you think I got that from? Sure as shit wasn't Mom."

Edward chuckled despite himself. "Where indeed?" He turned around and looked at Wayne's surprised face. At some point, he'd gotten out of the car and witnessed the entire interaction. Edward found his grip tightening around his daughter. "Mr. Wayne," he said softly. "Allow me to introduce my daughter, Ellen."

Wayne nodded. "Hello, Ellen."

Ellen looked at Wayne, then back up at Edward with a raised eyebrow. "When did you meet Bruce Wayne?"

"I hired him for a case back when he was just starting out," Wayne explained with a smile on his face. "I think it's important to help people when they need it."

Ellen returned Wayne's smile, but Edward was left feeling uneasy. "Mr. Wayne," he said. "I'd like to keep her existence close to the chest if you understand my meaning."

Wayne's face grew serious. "The secret's safe with me. I promise." He inclined his head towards the limousine, still parked less than ten feet away. "We should get going."

Edward nodded. "Right." He loosened his grip on Ellen enough to guide her towards the limo. As he was helping her inside, he noticed how pink her knuckles were. "When did that happen?"

Ellen froze for a second. "Back at your apartment, that wormy looking guy in the suit spotted me and tried to grab me. I punched him in the face and knocked him out."

So that was what had happened to Reeves. Edward saw red. "Did you now? Good girl, but for both of our sakes, don't make that into a habit." He'd have to plan something extra special for Reeves. He settled back into the limousine, Ellen snuggled up to his side and leaned back. "Let's go home. I owe you dinner." The limousine started up again, and they were traveling the narrow bridge back to the mainland. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wayne give him an appraising look, but he paid him no mind. He just wanted to take his daughter home.

During the forty-five minute trek back to Edward's apartment, the man had said nothing to Bruce, preferring to keep his daughter close to his side and occasionally whisper to her. There were so many questions Bruce wanted to ask him about what Strange had said to him, but the appearance of his daughter had made the situation even more complicated. Finally, Alfred had pulled up next to the dingy apartment building in downtown Gotham, and father and daughter climbed out of the limousine. Before Edward followed the girl into the building, he turned to face Bruce. "Mr. Wayne, thank you."

Bruce raised a hand. "Don't mention it." Bruce thought about living it there but decided to add, "You may want to let your friends and Dr. Leland know you're okay." He was tempted to mention Dr. Young, but he wasn't sure how Edward would respond to that. "Take care of yourself, Edward."

Edward nodded. "Thank you again." Then he joined his waiting daughter at the front of the building and disappeared inside. Alfred pulled the limousine away and turned north, back to Wayne Manor.

"Well," Alfred said drolly. "That was quite an exciting excursion."

"Yes, it was," Bruce sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest. "I wish I knew what exactly Strange said to Edward at Arkham."

"Do you think Mr. Nigma is in danger of relapsing?"

"I don't know Alfred," Bruce admitted. "I think he's at a crossroads. I don't know that I will ever be able to trust him, but..." he trailed off as he thought of Edward's interactions with his daughter, Ellen he said her name was. The gentleness he'd displayed towards the girl, once his anger had passed, his protectiveness of her...those were taits he'd never believed the man possessed. "But one thing became clear to me today, Alfred. Whatever his flaws, the Edward Nigma that we saw today is not the same man I fought against all those years. He's different, he's..." Bruce sighed again. "I think I can finally admit that he's becoming a better man." He just hoped that would be enough to thwart Strange.

As soon as they were inside his apartment, Ellen had plopped down on his sofa. "I'm so tired," she whined. "That was a long walk."

Edward shook his head. "What was your plan once you got onto Arkham?"

Ellen nervously twirled the end of a pigtail. "I kinda didn't have one."

Edward let out a long-suffering sigh. "You realize just how lucky you were that it was me and Bruce Wayne that spotted you and not security or another employee?"

Ellen bit her lip. "Yeah, Dad. I know. I'm sorry."

Edward crossed the room to the sofa and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Just don't do something like that ever again. I think I lost twenty years of my life when I saw you on that bridge."

Ellen rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, I think I lost twenty-five years of my life when I saw you getting taken away in that van."

Edward laughed. "We'll drive each other into an early grave. Well, after that nonsense, I'm not quite up for cooking. Do you want Chinese or Mexican?"

"Chinese!" Ellen shouted. "Sweet and Sour Pork and Lo Mein! And a Fortune cookie!"

"As the lady commands," Edward quipped, walking towards the kitchen cabinet that contained the take-out flyer. He pulled it out, then removed his cell phone from the plastic bag finally. When he pressed the on button to begin dialing, he noticed the missed call he'd had earlier that he'd forgotten all about had left a voicemail. That wasn't the only thing he'd noticed. His heart leaped up when he recognized Penelope's number. "Excuse me," he said to Ellen as he all but ran into his bedroom. He shut the door behind him and pressed play on the voicemail message, holding the phone up to his ear. For the first time in over a week, he heard Penelope's voice.

"Edward, Hugo Strange was at my office. He told me what's happening. I'm sorry, I never meant to leave you open like this." She paused, probably to collect herself. Even over the phone, Edward could hear how shaken his friend was and it made him clench his fist. He wished he had taken a swing at Strange when he had the chance, damn the consequences. "Whatever he says to you, whatever he does to make you feel vulnerable, don't believe him. We both know what he's trying to do, but I know you're stronger than he thinks you are. Edward. I want you to know that just because I walked away from our partnership, that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you. I want you to know that I-" the voicemail recording cut off. Edward slowly lowered the phone and became aware that his vision was blurry. Of course, she cared. Hadn't she stood by him all this time? Hadn't she defended him, believed him, helped him through some of the most difficult times of his entire life? And he'd been so stuck in his misery he'd been ready to throw all of that back in her face. How could he have been willing to do that to her? How could he not have seen, not even considered, that their separation was as painful for her as it was for him? He shook his head ruefully. He really was a selfish bastard, wasn't he? He raised the phone back up and stared at the screen. Time to do what he should have done a week ago. He hit the redial button.