When you're a brain in a jar, your movement is obviously limited. As such, Bobo's life was incredibly boring and unpleasant. Day in and day out, he had to deal with the inane conversations and gossiping of the asylum orderlies who came into the supply closet. The day Babbit had finally left and taken all his stupid minigolf ramblings with him was closest thing to a happiest day in the brain's life.

Of course, he wasn't entirely unaware of what was going on in this institute. With nothing else to listen to, he had absorbed every story that had passed by his jar and kept every bit of information stored away in his memory. Just from word-of-mouth, Bobo had watched the rise and fall of Doctor Marcel and his descent into madness, without even having eyes to watch with. It wasn't just the dust on his container that told him things had taken a turn for the worst, either.

It's easy to do nothing but sit and think when it's the only thing you're physically capable of. With all his knowledge and wisdom, Bobo could've probably solved everyone's problems easily. But he felt it was much more fun to keep it all to himself and see how they did it on their own.

So that's why he kept quiet and watched, if you could call it watching, the old woman kneeling by the slumped figure he recognized as Doctor Marcel's neglected son. That silly mask and hood had finally been taken off so that she could tend to the ugly gash by his eye. Though he was old enough that a bit of stubble was forming around his chin, the young man pouted like a small child as the elderly matron took a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a cloth from the shelf.

"Now stop that fidgeting," She said firmly. "This will only sting for a moment."

She poured a small drop on to the cloth and lightly dabbed it against the wound. Reuben winced, gritting his teeth as it burned him.

"That hurts!" He hissed.

"I should think so, with a nasty injury like that." Mother Superior Ignatz said coolly, keeping the cloth pressed against his face. "You're lucky it whatever it was that did this didn't pierce the eye itself. I can't blame you for crying."

"I wasn't... aagh! I wasn't crying because of that..." Reuben said between grunts. "I was... uh... It's a long story, you see..." He sighed in resignation. "Oh, forget it..."

Mother Superior watched him carefully. Whoever this young man was, something was causing him distress. Her thoughts returned to Lilli, who had vanished once again. Right now, she figured, if she couldn't help her, she would most certainly do whatever she could to help him, at least.

"It should be clean now." She said, removing the cloth. "That aught to keep out infection. We'll just have to close it until it can be given the proper medical treatment."

Pulling a needle out of her tasseled mess of her hair, and a spool of thread from... somewhere, Mother Superior held the side of his face still. Reuben grimaced at the sight of the needle getting so close to his face.

"This will hurt some more." Mother Superior said, keeping the cloth close at hand. "Why don't you try talking? It might distract you from the pain."

Reuben went quiet, not even making a sound as the old woman made her first stitch. She let him rest the back of his head against the wall. With his free hand, he picked up the brown paper bag mask that had been torn off in a fit of despair and discarded on the floor. The older son of Marcel stared at it wistfully before letting out a sad sigh.

"It's stupid." He said. "I put on this dumb outfit thinking it makes me better than everyone, even though I barely do anything except jump out and go 'boo' at people."

He looked over at the idiotically grinning portrait of his deceased brother hanging up on the wall opposite of them, frowning.

"You want to know why I cried?" He said, voice lowering. "It's because I thought I hated someone. I put all the blame for my miserable life on them. They represented everything that had gone wrong... when truthfully, they were never anything more than a simple child who suffered more than I ever did."

Mother Superior had stopped stitching. She was now staring at him hard, captivated by his words. Something about them resonated within her.

"I... I hate myself." Reuben admitted, eyes cascading downward. "I kept it hidden away deep down inside and tried to reason that, no, it was my father's fault I turned out this way. HE was wrong, and I would make him see. I would make EVERYONE see. Anybody who got in my way would feel my wrath."

He laughed bitterly. "Wrath... what a joke. Just put on a hood and suddenly everyone will bow to your every whim..."

Shaking his head, Reuben sighed again.

"Oh, what am I saying? I'm sorry for going off like that. It probably sounds idiotic to you."

A soft, wrinkled hand closed itself gently around his. Looking back at the old woman, he was taken by surprise to see a very gentle smile spread across her face. The twinkle in her eye showed him she understood more than he knew.

"No," She said warmly. "It's not idiotic at all."

Bobo couldn't technically see, but even he could tell that the man was feeling something he hadn't in a long, long time. Something Doctor Marcel had never given him.

The brain would definitely keep this memory. The whole thing would make a fabulous story one day, should he ever get out of this place and make millions from his memoirs alone. Of course, nobody would believe it to be a true story. It was much too sentimental.

After all, nobody really likes happy endings, right?

Phelps massaged his brow wearily, trying his damndest to unscramble all the thoughts going on in his head at the moment. Both Marcel's goons watched patiently as he and Kornelia processed everything that they had just told them. Bladder shifted nervously as the female investigator chewed the end of her cigarette with a perturbed look.

"I mean, it's mostly just rumors..." He said, trying playing it safe.

"But it all makes sense. Everything you two just told us fits in seamlessly with our case files!" Kornelia said. She began pacing back and forth. "Why else would a man known to be a harmless, doting father suddenly confess that he murdered a child unless it was under the threat of losing his own daughter?"

"Now Officer Katzenburg!" The policeman, who had been standing by quietly, suddenly said as he stepped forward with his hands raised. "Let's not jump to conclusions. The mere concept of Doctor Marcel framing someone out of spite is a serious accusation, and as the gentleman said, it's all just rumors."

"Unfortunately, he's right." Phelps said quietly. He kept his hand pressed against his forehead. "Without a first-hand account, everything we just heard is completely useless. Edna is the only person who could give us the truth, and she vanished years ago."

"Actually..."

Everyone looked at Bladder's partner (let's call him Jack, shall we?), who had spoken up. He and his stout companion were positively squirming as they both looked ready to confess something.

"Don't tell me..." Kornelia said, eyes wide.

"We... may have found her..." Jack said, shrinking deeper into his seat. "And... brought her back to the asylum...?"

The cigarette dropped from Kornelia's gaping mouth. She immediately looked at her superior, who was standing completely still as he stared at the men through his sunglasses.

"Gerret's phone call..." Phelps said, his voice slowly rising. "Before he got cut off. He said TWO of the other students escaped..."

It took barely a second for them to put two and two together. Kornelia turned sharply, marching towards the exit, while Phelps dug his phone out of his pocket. The young policeman was getting frantic.

"Wait... Wait a second!" He said, gesturing at Kornelia. "Where's she going? What are you doing?"

"She's gonna round up the rest of your team," He replied, dialing the numbers quickly. "We're takin' Marcel out. I just need to alert your boss back in town, and get the okay from my chief-"

The click of a gun gave him pause. The policeman was aiming straight at Phelps, shaking in pure terror. Marcel's men looked on in shock, not moving an inch. Phelps simply stood there, staring at him.

"M-My sister..." The officer said, his voice shaking. His eyes were wide as saucers. "He has her. He'll hurt her if I don't do what he says. You cant do this. I wont let you, I wont...!"

"What's your name?"

Phelps' expression hadn't changed. He kept staring at the officer with a completely calm exterior while he started to slowly walk towards him. The cop immediately tightened the grip on his gun threateningly.

"Get back!"

"What's your name?" He repeated coolly. He was completely unfazed by the weapon being pointed at him, which only unnerved the officer even further.

"I'll shoot! I swear I will!" He warned. Phelps was merely inches away from the end of the barrel. The moonlight shining through the window reflected off of his sunglasses, further hiding his expressionless face. The senior investigator was absolutely radiating with an aura of confidence that sent chills down the already browbeaten rookie.

"What's your name?" Phelps said again.

"...Paul."

"How long has your sister been under Doctor Marcel's care, Paul?"

"T-Three years." Paul said, sounding more relaxed. "But there's nothing wrong with her! She has ADHD and a few emotional issues, but she's just as normal as everyone else! She doesn't deserve to be locked away like some kind of monster, or... or..."

He was hyperventilating. Phelps began to raise his hand, causing the man to snap back into focus and tighten his grip once more. Not even a single bead of sweat trickled down Phelps' dark skin as he brought his hand to his sunglasses and slowly pulled them off. Paul felt a strange comfort suddenly wash over him. Phelps' eyes were worn and weary, having seen many things in his still young life. He had seen this before, the rookie realized. He had seen it many, many times.

"Does he hurt her?" Phelps asked gently.

Paul swallowed a lump in his throat. "He gives her 'treatments' if I don't cooperate."

"What are these treatments, Paul?"

A pause, and then, "Electro-shock therapy. Sometimes he makes vague threats, like... hitting her or breaking her legs or something. I don't know."

Both Bladder and Jack hung their heads shamefully. They knew Paul wasn't lying.

"I'm not the only one, too." Paul said, frowning. "We all have loved ones. With just one word, he can take them away. We can't take that chance. I wont take that chance."

His eyes were locked on to Phelps, silently pleading with him. The latter refused to look away. He stood completely still, watching Paul with his brown, sad eyes. Everyone in the room remained quiet for a solid minute.

Then Phelps said "What's your sister like?"

Paul smiled weakly. "She's a total goofball." He said. "When I turned sixteen, she threw a surprise party for me in the bathroom. Filled the whole toilet with guacamole, too. Dad nearly burst a blood vessel unclogging the pipes for the rest of the week."

"Damn," Phelps said with a grin. "Never a quiet moment in your house, I'll reckon."

"It was like that everywhere." Paul said. His smile grew the more he talked. "One time she threw a sobbing fit in the middle of a restaurant because she found out the sauce on her spaghetti was made of tomatoes. I must have laughed for a good twenty minutes when the chefs all started arguing about how to make red sauce without using tomatoes in it, while mom literally hid under the table out of embarrassment!"

He laughed, but cut himself short as the rest of his memories came back to interrupt his nostalgia trip. The smile on Paul's face dropped quickly.

"My parents brought her to Doctor Marcel so he could 'cure' her." He said. His brow furrowed. "They thought she was a freak. They never bothered to ask her how she felt, or look for any real help. My parents wanted a normal family with a normal daughter. So they preferred to have her locked away to have her brain fried than ever consider changing themselves."

The gun finally lowered, falling to his side limply. Phelps did nothing, except continue to listen patiently. Jack and Bladder kept staring in amazement.

"I joined the force so I could save her." Paul said. "I thought I could stop Marcel, but now all I'm doing is helping him hurt more people. There's nothing I can do."

"You're wrong."

Paul looked up at Phelps as the latter spoke up. His expression had finally changed into that of conviction.

"You can help her, Paul. You can stop Marcel." He said. "You have the power, not him. The only thing stopping you is yourself."

"He has influence." Paul said, shaking his head. "He can make connections, get people on his side, or..."

"That's why we're here." Phelps said earnestly, placing a hand on his chest. "He may have influence, be he can't beat the law, no matter what he thinks. Who do you think has been watching him all this time? You may think he has eyes everywhere, but he doesn't even realize it's the other way around. This is why our agency was founded, Paul. So that nobody can ever be alone."

It got quiet again as Paul absorbed what Phelps was telling him. He seemed hesitant, but from the way his body clenched, the experienced officer could see he was willing to believe he was right.

Just then, Kornelia came back in. "Sorry it took so long. I had to do a bit of convincing..." She stopped, noticing the two standing where they were, and the gun in Paul's hand.

"Whoa, everything okay in here, boss?" She asked, moving slowly toward the fruit bar.

Phelps said nothing, but looked back to Paul with a waiting expression. The young policeman bit his lip as the time to choose was finally upon him. With a deep breath, he looked back up to face the two.

"We're alright." Paul said firmly. "We were just discussing how we were going to bring Marcel in."

Phelps turned back to Kornelia with a wide grin. "You hear that? We're cool, Kori. You can put the coconut down."

Kornelia, who had been clutching an especially hard nut for the past few seconds, chuckled sheepishly and loosened her grip.

"You had another therapy session, didn't you, Phil?"

Paul smirked. "He's a damn better one than Doctor Marcel ever was."

"Damn straight." Phelps smiled complacently. "So, we're in the clear?"

"Just got off the phone with Chief." Kornelia said. "As he so eloquently put it, he wants 'that crippled Frankenstein's ass behind bars by yesterday's breakfast'."

"Ehh..." Bladder suddenly interrupted. "What are we supposed to do?"

"You're coming with us, that's what." Kornelia said, coming over and taking them both by the wrists. "You two are our prime witnesses, so we'll need you in case we have more questions."

She slapped a pair of cuffs on them, linking the two together. Both men looked at the chain, then back at each other with a grimace.

"Now then." Phelps stepped between all of them, reaching back into his pocket. He pulled out his sunglasses and slipped them back on smoothly. "If we're all ready..."

The moonlight reflected off the dark lenses of his glasses, blinding anyone who looked at them. His eyes narrowed downward once again.

"Let's go pay the ol' doctor a visit."

"...All I'm saying is that it's not impossible for a rabbit to become a Cuban drug lord. I've got the scar, I've got the ability to draw in the ladies, I can't get addicted to anything since I'm made of terrycloth..."

Gerret didn't know why he could hear Harvey. Maybe the rabbit really was alive, or perhaps the amount of overtime he put into his job had loosened a few screws in his head. If that wasn't the case, and if he hadn't gone insane already, Gerret was no doubt going to if he had to deal with the ragdoll's incessant chatter for another minute.

He would have left Harvey behind with Mother Superior, but he had insisted on coming with Gerret to find Edna. He carefully searched the halls of the asylum, carrying Harvey in his hand while the rabbit continued to talk his ear off.

"I'm thinking of renaming myself 'Scarvey'," The rabbit said. "I was also thinking of wearing an eyepatch and do the Kurt Russel look!"

"Here's an idea." Gerret said irritably. "Why don't you go for the mime look and be quiet for a couple of hours. Or days. Or Years."

Harvey blew a raspberry. "THAT'S your best insult? A mime joke? What an amateur!"

"I can think up plenty more if you like." Gerret snarled.

"I'd say you had better stay focused on finding Edna, Dirty Harry." Harvey said. "But chances are you'll just get caught again. You're not a very good cop, are you?"

Gerret wanted badly to swing the cackling little scamp into the wall by his ears, but his thoughts were interrupted as they came down the second floor stairs and immediately recognized Harvey's violet-haired owner kneeling in the middle of the foyer. She was completely motionless as her hair draped over her face like a curtain.

"Edna!" Harvey said cheerfully as Gerret approached quickly. "There ya are!"

"What happened?" Gerret asked. "Are you alright?"

She didn't reply. She didn't even move. Gerret glanced at Harvey, who only shrugged in response. Frustratedly, the overstrung youth investigator placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Edna, this is no time for any of your games." He said sternly, shaking her. "Did you find Lilli? Where is she?"

"Gone."

He stared at her, surprised by her blunt answer. "What do you mean gone?"

"She's gone." Edna repeated quietly. "She's gone and she's never coming back."

Gerret was flummoxed. Again he looked to Harvey, who had gone unusually quiet. Suddenly, Edna moved her head slightly towards them, her hair shifting to expose her face. Gerret was taken aback at the sight of her tired, reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"They're dead, aren't they?" She said abruptly. She stared at Gerret, not taking her eyes off him for a second. "The other kids. That's what you were going to tell me back in the cell, wasn't it?"

Gerret took a sharp breath as she kept staring, awaiting his response. Swallowing, he straightened out his back and nodded firmly. Edna simply looked at him sadly for a moment more before bringing her head back down to stare at the floor again.

Gerret closed his eyes, sighing. "I'm sorry. It was my fault."

"No, it wasn't." Edna shook her head slowly. "It's mine."

She gripped the sides of her arms tightly, hugging herself as she began to tremble all over.

"Everyone was right about me." Edna whimpered as tears welled in her eyes again. "Doctor Marcel was right. Keymaster was right. I'm like a storm that just destroys everything in it's path. All I do is hurt people because I'm too selfish and stupid...!"

Enda gripped herself tighter as images came flooding into her mind. Alfred's confused look of horror, her father's sad smile, the priest, Keymaster's tirade, Doctor Marcel's broken body, the last time she had seen any of her fellow students alive, and now the recent memory of Lilli's scorn. Edna felt sick, keeling over and holding herself as if it was the only way to keep both her mind and her stomach from exploding out of her body.

Gerret watched, mystified as she broke into pitiful sobs. This side of Edna was strange and foreign to him. He knew she had suffered a lot, but he had always figured her to have been hardened by the experience. Seeing her happy-go-lucky exterior completely broken shed a new light on her for Gerret, and a feeling of guilt suddenly washed over him. His eye twitched as he struggled to say something, anything, to ease her pain. But comfort was not something he was used to giving.

Suddenly, Harvey said, "Let me talk to her."

Startled out of his funk, Gerret looked at him. The rabbit was uncharacteristically stoic in this situation. Curiously, he brought the ragdoll before Edna, softly placing him down in front of her. Then he took a step back, awaiting what would happen next.

Harvey sat quietly for a few seconds as Edna cried. When her weeping eventually simmered into a series of soft breathing, he cleared his throat a little.

"Hey, Edna." He said affectionately. "Looks like we've gotten ourselves into a real mess, huh?"

The only sound she made was a light sniff. If he could move, Harvey would played around with the stitching that made up his scar. In his most distant memories, the bunny could remember how it felt being put back together.

"It wasn't a picnic, you know, being dead." Harvey said. "For the longest time there was nothing but darkness. I'd like to believe I was stuck in some kind of waiting room while they decided what kind of afterlife I was fitted for. But then... I can remember the feeling of my cotton being restuffed. I could feel myself being stitched back together! I remember being able to hear again, but not see. It felt like a strange dream, like when you have a fever or too much cough medicine."

Edna still wasn't moving, but her breathing had become still.

"I guess my eyes are kind of like my brain," Harvey continued. "Because once I had them, everything became less... kooky. I could finally think clearly. It felt great... until Doctor Marcel started his new scheme."

He shuddered. "It was like getting a lobotomy, or turned into Robocop. When he put those new eyes on me and that box in my belly, it was like a straight jacket. Not that I could move in the first place, but my head felt... stiff. I was thinking and saying things, but wasn't feeling them. But I can remember everything that happened."

Harvey made a small sniffle of his own.

"I envy you right now, Edna." He said softly. "I wish I could feel what you're feeling. It hurts, but you have the ability to feel that hurt. I can't. I'm stuck with a one-track mind and I can be changed by anyone whenever they want... but not you."

Edna's grip on her shoulders lessened.

"You're such an amazing person, Edna." Harvey said. "You can be fun. You can be wild and free, create or destroy, spread your wings and fly... but you can grow. You can listen and learn. You can empathize. I know only what I know, but you can do so much more."

She was actually looking at him now, mouth slightly open as his words reached her. The moonlight hit the whites of Harvey's eyes, making them appear to shine brightly as he smiled tenderly at Edna.

"I can remember everything," He said. "Even if I couldn't comprehend it at the time, I could still see and hear it. I remember seeing you again in Doctor Marcel's office. Do you remember what you said to him?"

Edna needed a second to recall what he was talking about, but she knew. He nodded slightly.

"That's right. You told him to take you in place of Lilli. You were willing to hand yourself over to the man who had ruined your whole life just to save one little girl. Now does that sound like someone stupid and selfish?"

Edna lifted her back, furrowing her brow as she considered this. He watched her carefully.

"You care about her a lot, don't you?"

The question seemed to open up a new door in her mind. Perhaps subconsciously she had replaced Harvey with Lilli, but looking back on it now made her realize how different it was. Harvey had always been the one to cheer her up, as a favorite toy should. But with Lilli, that care had been reversed. They had played together, gotten into trouble together, but Lilli was never just a doll Edna could relate to. Lilli was a human being who was burdened by her own life. Lilli was someone Edna felt the need to protect. Lilli was someone she understood.

Lilli was family.

"I... I love her." Edna found herself saying suddenly as the realization dawned on her. "I love Lilli so much..."

"Then you gotta prove it to her!" Harvey said. "I hate to say it, but you hafta show the world you can grow up!"

She shrunk a little. "But... I don't know if I can do it alone."

"You won't be alone." Harvey said with a big cheeky grin. "We're a duo, remember? It'll be another adventure, just like old times!"

"I'll be there too," Gerret stepped forward. He had heard everything and had a new determination in his heart. "To give you that hand to help you up."

Edna looked at both of them. Everything seemed so uncertain and scary, but at that moment a familiar little spark found itself reigniting inside her once more. After all that had happened, a little smile found itself spreading across her face once more.

"Thank you." She said sincerely. Then she looked up at Gerret with that familiar impish grin. "Now, about that hand, Romeo..."

Harvey broke into a series of giggles as the the Edna everyone knew (and not always loved) returned. Even Gerret cracked a little smile as he helped her stand up.

"You're ready then?" He asked.

"I am." Edna said, picking up Harvey to hold in her arms. It felt comforting, like putting in the last piece of a puzzle.

"I'll hold down the fort here, then." Gerret said. "I'll try and get in touch with my cohorts again." A pause before he adopted his stern expression again. "Bring her back safely."

Edna nodded, turning towards the exit door. Harvey was beaming as he nuzzled the crook of her arm. She smiled, cuddling him close.

"Oh, by the way," Gerret called. "Don't go crashing any cars this time!"

Her hand was already on the door when she replied, "No promises!"

Gerret watched as she paused halfway out the door, held Harvey just a little tighter, and vanished into the night.