"Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you. Others tear you open and leave you in pieces." Richard Kadrey
If there's one thing Edward hated, it was not being able to use his money. Granted it's not as though he can't use it, but after every escape from Arkham he had to have a lay-low period. Which meant low income use. Which meant not spending his hard earned money.
Snapping his purple umbrella open just as raindrops began to fall through the night, he spied a fellow Gothamite struggling with one too many shopping bags. She just stepped out of the corner store, noting the oncoming storm. She leaned slightly forward and hesitated before walking through the drops. He watched as she made it up the street and under the few brownstones that had an awning. With a 'for rent' sign in it's window.
"Need some help?" he reeled back when she jumped, dropping her bag as she turned to glare at him. "Oh! I'm very sorry." He stood at the gate now, donning a sheepish grin and an Irish accent. "Didn't mean to scare you." She rolled her eyes, muttering to herself as she searched the ground for loose cans. His umbrella swayed over her.
"T-that won't be necessary, I'm sure one of my roommates could help." she reached into her bag, mumbling to herself. Hoisting one bag under his arm, he extended his other hand as he eyed the 'room for rent' sign on the window. It was worn, probably from being out for so long. Perfect. Standing beside her, his nose scrunched up at the shabby interior. Almost perfect...She passed into the kitchen, returning with the coat off and hands outstretched.
"I could be that roommate, Miss..."
"Maddie," she seemed to fit in, her hair slightly askew around her ears in black tendrils. He smiled and passed her, setting his bag on the table as well. "I'm...honestly not looking for a roommate umm.." She rose an eyebrow at him, expectant.
"Nashton." He blurted, regretting the name choice instantly. But he kept his most charming grin up. Maddie gave him a once over, crossing her arms. "Nash is what my friends call me."
"Right," she fiddled through the groceries, her eyes scrunched to read the cans. "And your friends couldn't give you a place to stay?"
"They're back at the homeland-" the lights went out, leaving them in the dark. A streetcar passed. He just made out her reaching for a candle. "So they could only give me their blessings." Now he can see her silhouette, trying to light it.
"And have their blessings been much help?" she smirked as her match stayed lit.
"Met a charming young girl so far, hope to find a room in the same night..." her laugh cracked at his joke. He kept his smile up as she stepped closer to him. She peered at him, biting her lip. He swallowed at her gaze, feeling the wind pass through the apartment. "You don't have roommates do you Maddie?"
"I do," she sighed, turning away to light a candle. There were several more, and she took her time going from one to the next. "They're all in broadway, so they do late shows."
"It's nearly midnight.."
"Some shows don't need a stage." She whispered. His eyebrows rose. The last thing he needed was criminal traffic.
"A-are you-" He began, but she cut him off with another laugh.
"God no, I use my charms to sell overpriced coffee." She smiled as the last candle was lit, looking back at him still by the table. "And I don't let my tenants bring their 'work' with them home." She played with her thumbs glancing at the cans and the man before her. Her gaze hardened. "At all."
He blinked. "That's good to hear." Nashton smiled and looked at the table. "So, your roommates help you with this all the time?"
"No," she admitted as he placed it into the cupboard above her head. Their eyes locked briefly. "Just one." Maddie blurted. "One w-week I mean, and you get the couch till I figure out whose been behind on the rent."
"You won't regret it, miss." he picked up another can. She followed suit.
"Just one week," she repeated. He kept smiling. He'd doubt it.
"Edward?" Doctor Bigby leaned forward, perplexed. The patient snapped back into focus, ripping his gaze from the window.
"Oh I'm sorry doctor, I wasn't paying attention." he glanced around the room, noting the guard just peeking out of the shadows. Richard Bigby shook his head, smiling. He was shorter than most men, and stocky. But it gave him a boyish look. Approachable, definitely. At least that's what his colleagues say about him.
"No problem Edward...this is the most accommodating you've been in a while. Much more than last week." he jotted something in his notes. Looking at his own hands, Edward had to agree with him. His recent imprisonment was more...animated than the others. He cringed, remembering how he behaved. Normally, he would just boast about how long it took for them to find him. And then, weeks later, he'd bust out. Get caught, rinse. Repeat.
The only thing he repeated was punching a particular guard in the face. He barely recalled why. "It's been awhile since I've had someone to talk to." The floor was a pale white, reflecting his face in a washed out backdrop. It's almost a month now. He can imagine the snide comments whispered through the walls. Rumors of how he lost his touch. Or his mind finally. All his brainpower reduced to mindless thuggery. Not even Jonathan wanted to provoke him that much, he wasn't even there for breakfast. "Even longer since I actually want to talk." From the floor, he can see Bigby watching him. At least Richard was 'approachable' in a sense.
"That's what we're here for Edward." He flashed a big smile. "To talk and to help."
The security guard in the corner scoffed. Bigby gave him a withering look before beginning again.
"What do you want to talk about? Hmm? Your recent caper?" he fished, jotting more notes as the Riddler shook his head. "Watched any good shows? Or..what's up with the weather lately?" At that, Edward furrowed his brow, looking back outside. Flecks of frost clung to the windowsill, etching up the entire frame. It's almost the end of August.
"Indeed." he muttered.
"Care to share?" Bigby implored.
Edward crossed his arms."Why did you really call me in doctor?"
"Well, the weather hasn't always been the most predictable. One of those eighty percent fact, twenty percent chance wonders of life." Bibgy's smile faltered. "However in light of what's happening...I have a proposition for you. A surprise, if you will."
Edward almost forgot Bigby was new to Arkham. Because in the asylum, the jaded doctors had certain tells. A 'hardness' to them, as Crane described it. They know this facility is little more than a prison. This barely standing cage is guarded by the very few people that are tough enough to keep the hinges shut. Bigby wasn't one of them. He honestly believed he can change his patients. On any other day, Edward would laugh at his expense. Toy with him even. But he needed Bigby to believe in him.
"It's not another puzzle-book is it?" he asked.
"Oh no no," Bigby stroked his lab-coat. He rummaged through his pile of folders, still having a grin etched on his face. "Not that kind of surprise. This might not surprise you, actually. The police are suspecting that this inconsistent weather isn't just global warming-"
"They just figured that out now?" he snapped.
"Well, no. They finally needed to ask for 'extra' help. Reach someone that can talk in the daytime. The Investigation Divison has speculated the culprit was a friend of yours." Bigby pulled two files out. Edward leaned forward, eyeing the lifeless look of the only man he can think of to enjoy winter in August. Bigby handed him the files, though they just rested on Edwards lap.
"Victor's no friend." But boy did he feel pity. Mr. Freeze was brandishing his ice ray gun, as though the shot was captured right before he fired. His mouth was open in mid-sentence. Edward sighed, he can see where this is going. They'll ask him to track the man down, turn him in and maybe cut his time as a reward. As if they can keep him here. His eyes darted across the sheet of paper, until his eyes fell on the photo clipped to the second folder underneath. It was partly covered by Bigby's thumb, but he knew her face immediately.
"That may be true, but if you help us-the police department- maybe you can visit your other friends." Bigby lifted his thumb, and Edward let out a slow breath of what he hoped was indifference. It was her, definitely. And it was recent. She wasn't looking at the camera, instead her gaze was somewhere off in the distance. He can make out a ferris wheel behind her, she had cotton candy in her hands, and the string lights left an eerie shade over her eyes. He shrugged.
"She's not a friend either, Doctor." he leaned back. Bigby chuckled, handing Edward Mr. Freeze's files and opening the girl's.
"Oh, you don't think so?" Edward felt something sour rise in the back of his throat as Bigby flipped through her pages. He was certain whatever Bigby knew about her he already knew from late night chats and later nights rummaging through the internet and her things. Him fiddling with her files as though he had some higher knowledge, some right to look at them… "She doesn't look like the usual girl that's ensnared in your schemes. Not a very glamorous lifestyle either."
"I was keeping a low profile."
"She says here you were staying on her couch for seven months. That's overstaying you welcome isn't it?" Bigby looked up. "You like showing off Edward. With the puzzles, the expensive suits, and when a woman is involved…"
"So what is your point?"
"What makes her so special?"
"Opportunity. What else?" Edward drummed his fingers, smiling back at Bigby. "Did you ask her?"
"Hmm no, apparently being in the aftermath of a bomb blast leads to medical attention, not questioning time…." Seeing no reaction, Bigby continued. "She was put in the hospital after that. And when she woke up…she couldn't disclose anything that happened before, or during the blast clearly." The doctor looked up, eyeing his patient. "Or wouldn't disclose anything implicating you directly. At the time, the police thought she was in shock. But I'm looking at that report…and you were there."
"Obviously." Edward tapped his feet.
"At the building. She saw a man. 'Green and Purple, wearing a suit' she states." Bigby leaned forward, and Edward shook his head. That again. It never fails to come up.
"And?" he replied.
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"Because that is not you!" Edward remained still at the outburst. The psychiatrist hesitated, but waved away the notion. "Everything is laid out when it comes to you. Every puzzle has an answer, every action has a reason. But this…this, you, emher…/emit's nothing but blanks."
Edward looked back out the window, thinking back to the photograph. She doesn't do crowds, he thought. Then again, she always surprised him. He glimpsed through Victor's file, not stopping at any particular page. "I get to walk around the city." he stated. "Only in the daytime."
"I…Edward-"
"You can't release me, I know. I just want some fresh air when I investigate." He tossed Victor's file back onto the desk. Bigby blinked, before beaming again.
"Thank you, Edward."
"I don't care if you have me collared, doctor. But those are my conditions to help." Okay, so that was a flat out lie. He'll be damned to keep said collar on…
"I can't promise—"
"I can promise you that I'll have Victor within a few weeks."
"A few weeks? Can't you-"
"First weeks to find him, last weeks to weed out who he's working with and create a reversing agent. Flipping the switch around doesn't work anymore. I'll be in touch, Doctor, but I really want to get back to my cell."
"Of…of course." Standing up himself, he caught up to the Riddler and motioned the guard to follow. "I'll let the police know of your participation. Grimes, please take him back to his cell." But the guard held the radio strapped to his hip up to his ear, listening to the scattered commands. "Problem?"
"You got a phone call Nygma." Edward rolled his eyes.
"And it can't wait?" he whined. The guard pointed his gun to the East Wing, shuffling along with the inmate. Bigby gave another smile, before heading west.
"Can't, freak. She said she won't wait." the guard smirked as the redhead walked slightly faster.
Solitary. The one thing Jervis strived to not have in his life anymore. And, ironically, it drove him to this. A rotten cell that creaks with the footsteps outside, the world moving on without him in it. He itched in the straight jacket they gave him. His throat burned from the lack of water. It could be worse, he reasoned as he crooked his neck to the left to stretch. After all, it was only a few hours —
His hat toppled to the side and rolled to the far end of the room.
"Bollocks." he spat. Jervis tried to stand up, bracing himself on the wall before freezing in place. Those footsteps were getting closer. And fast. The door crackled open, and the scarce rays of light only showed Jervis the silhouette of a guard uniform. He ignored the urge to whimper, and coughed slightly to cover it up. Edward told him that the biggest trick to bluffing is false confidence."It's rude to not knock, gentlemen."
The first strike knocked him back to the floor. He lost count of how many more came afterwards. He wheezed when the man, whom he doubt was a guard, stopped. A small chuckle crept into his throat, which would have erupted into a broken cackle if the stranger hadn't spoken up.
"All yours doll face." He stood up, keeping his face hidden as he stepped back. Jervis stilled as he realized the room had one more occupant. "You got seven minutes."
Marion nodded, watching Jervis mouth words before he clamped his mouth shut. When the 'guard' actually left the room, she latched her arms around him. He tried to wriggle out of the grasp, but she was stronger this time. "I'm sorry…" she whispered, shaking.
"Wh…why?" he scowled as she pushed back his hair, scrutinizing his face.
"He's a brother of one of the guards. One who had medical leave because Croc punched him out cold." She assured, checking for any lasting damage. "I had to promise that he'd teach you a lesson about starting fights." He almost forgot how big her eyes were up close. Despite her matter-of-fact tone, her eyes would always give away how she felt. Jervis blinked, noting how glassy they seemed to be. "He's very…aggressive." she admitted. "But I warned him that if he fucked you up too bad, he'll re-"
"Marion!" he gasped.
"What?"
"Language!" he hissed. She scowled, drawing her hand back and landing a slap of her own.
"Am I a child?" she asked.
"A…" he paused as her hand raised up. "No."
"Am I your daughter?" she leaned her head onto his, keeping eye contact. The stout man grimaced as their gaze held.
"No."
"Then you do not get to tell me what to do." she blinked back tears. "I'm…really trying to make you understand that Jervis."
"Understand what?"
"I'm not Alice." she stated, and before Jervis could retort she covered his mouth with her tiny hands. "I thought that if I played along, you'd grow out of it. And you wouldn't. Not even for me." She came closer, whispering now. "Did I matter that little to you?"
"No…" he swallowed. She smiled. He smiled back. "Marion…I loved…what we had together. I miss it. And you will always be my wonderland." His face stung harder after that second slap. Her smile gone, and replaced with a twisted grimace as she continued her assault.
"When are you going to stop treating me like a kid?!" she slapped him with each punctuation, towering over him as she stood
"When you stop acting like one!" he snarled.
"I stop acting like one?! You can barely think without your…" her rant trailed off as her eyes darted around the room and rested on his treasured top hat.
"Don't…" Jervis warned. She ignored him and picked the hat up, transfixed on it, her fingers skimming the brim. It used to be a deep rich emerald and a bright gold ribbon. Marion looked at him, having a certain gleam in her eyes as she walked to the door. He grew pale.
"Marion, I realize that we had our differences. But please don't do anything brash. We can still- where are you going?" Jervis tried sitting up, but to no avail. "Wait! I need that-"
"No, you don't Jervis." she stopped in the doorway. "You need to be on your own with your own thoughts…like an adult. I'm sorry." She slammed the cell door closed and marched with her head up high up the stairs to the lower deck floors. The 'guard's' snickers barely drowned the deranged screams echoing behind her. She hoped he can forgive her.
"You can't read the spoilers!" she tried to pull his computer away, but to no avail. They had fallen into a routine of watching shows or movies of their choice (hers this week) on Nashton's couch. And she couldn't fathom how he would know the plot so well when she had chosen the program minutes before telling him. Until now.
"And why not?" he laughed as he held the laptop above his head. "You keep recommending things that would 'interest' me. By knowing a few episode plots.."
"But-" She lunged forward, catching his shoulders. "What's the point of watching?"
"Well, when I figured that I like what I read, then I'll watch the show to see the visual execution. Besides, a synopsis is a spoiler in a way."
"A generalization," She reasoned. "It doesn't give away the whole-stop reading!"
"So Carla and Turk get married?" he teased. "Oh and then she gets pregnant and they have a gi-hey!" She clasped the device shut with a disapproving look. He tried to keep a smile up, but now that she actually had the one thing with all his connections...it was hard. "Okay, I won't read them." But the laptop remained in her hands as she shifted back to her side of the couch.
"Good, but you're missing the point." Maddie drummed her fingers idly. "Do you realize that you're robbing yourself?"
"Oh honestly Madeline," he tentatively reached for the computer. She placed it on the nightstand behind her, glaring. "Robbing myself of what exactly? What is the difference between a series synopsis and the verbal spoilers of a friend who recommends said show? True, one is more informative whilst the other is persuasion, but they both tell you what the story is. If not for that, who in this world would watch it?" He glanced at the computer briefly, then meeting her glare head on.
"Alright, different tactic," she scratched her head. "What if your life was a show?"
"It would be a smash hit," he replied. Rolling her eyes, Maddie continued.
"If you skipped ahead, and knew what was going to happen to you, what would be the point in living?"
"For the experience," Nashton sighed. Maddie nodded. "But that is a horrible comparison for your argument."
"I disagree. If you knew weeks ago that you would be here, you would want to change the situation to benefit you."
"Such as not sleeping on this couch." he nodded, smiling as she snickered. "I'd definitely change that. But my life's future isn't already filmed and stored, lass." He can change anything he wanted. He didn't have to settle for the future. In a few months, he'll be out of this hell hole and on an island. As for her...
"But it's still a story," she stood up, ruffling his hair as she walked to the kitchen. "And no one likes spoilers." He scrunched his nose, trying to fix his locks back in place. Quickly, he stuffed the laptop under the pillow behind him. He looked over the couch just in time to see her bend and reach for cans of soda. His gaze lingered briefly. Maybe there was a different way to get into a bed.
"Some spoilers make you want to see the end.." Nashton smiled as she handed him a can. Maddie sighed, settling into her spot on the couch.
"That's like...knowing how a puzzle is solved before even touching it." she blurted. His smile cracked a little.
"What?"
"Well, what's the point?" She stared at the screen, not noticing her suddenly silent companion. "Why go through solving puzzles if you know the answers?" Maddie took a sip from her can, regarding him. "But then, I'm back to the whole 'it's the journey, not the result' dispute. I guess...I like not knowing certain things, you know? Then I have a lot to learn. I say that the day you learn everything is when life has no point. Reaching perfect wisdom leads to perfect boredom."
He blinked. No. Hell, now he wasn't sure if she knew. But he'd like to find out. She's not an idiot, he's seen her read a lot of books. But who takes joy in not wanting to know? "Maybe." It might take a while, but he'd figure if she's insane or...
She smiled, taking another sip. "Best answer ever."
He rose an eyebrow. "You think so?"
"I know so." She laughed as he shook his head, letting the show play once more as he hid his own grin.
Edward watched the phone receiver rest on the top of the booth, drumming his fingers. It felt heavy as he raised it to his ear. Hushed tones came in short bursts. He strained to here it, and almost hung up until the voice finally broke through the static.
"Nash…Ed. I need help…no…stop don't come any closer…" he remained quiet. "I don't understand-I just…why would you do this?!"
"Mad?" her voice sounded so quiet, as though she was whispering.
"Stay back! Nash! Help!…Nash he's going to kill me!" Looking behind him, he spied the guard behind him rolling up his sleeve, checking his watch. He'll guess that he had two minutes left. "Mad? Listen..what's wrong-"
"This isn't happening." her voice was barely calm. "I'm not here, I'm home. You're not here, you are home. This isn't real…"
"Maddie? Maddie! Can you hear me? Where are you? Call the police if you're hurt. Hang up and call—" he heard a gasp before the dial tone blared into his ear. The guard yanked him away from the booth, and led him back to his cell. He sat on his bed, raking through the mental files as god knows how much time passed. When his cell door opened again, he can feel the fog of arrogance wafting in.
"And that is the last time I catch you in the cafeteria Crane!" slamming the cell shut the janitor stormed off. Jonathan giggled as he looked over his surroundings.
"Edward, how are you?" Those glasses hid his eyes, but Edward can see that slight crack of a grin. Like he just found something really funny.
"Jonathan." He flash a quick smile, watching Jonathan carefully as he walked to his bed. He sat up straighter when his cellmate pulled out something from his sleeve: a small white bag. "Where have you been?"
"Oh, you know. Out and about. Met that girl again today for another…session." A small chuckle rose in his throat. Dumping the bag on the bed, he spread apart several syringes, gas balls, and his mask and note pad. "It's nice to have a breathe of fresh air once in a while. Right? Let's you see things from a new perspective." The Riddler's brow furrowed, before both shot up into his hair.
"You weren't in the cafeteria…" His mind raced over the facts.
Today wasn't the scheduled peer meeting day. Madeline wouldn't be in the asylum. She called an hour ago rambling, terrified. Jonathan has been gone since this morning.
Jonathan got out. And he got to Maddie.
A/N: Sorry…real sorry. I have been busy with work and applying for study abroad (uk here I come!) and I honestly didn't know how to finish this chapter. So I decided to just go with what I had and not be too worried about were the story takes me. Next chapter is about Jonathan visiting Madeleine. Again, really sorry.