"So, Cyn-th-ia…" The Joker coaxed my name into several syllables, as if he was tasting it. After a moment of apparent deep thought, he wrinkled his nose. "I don't like it. It sounds like a Barbie."

I don't bother looking up from my files. Although I was supposed to be studying the Joker, I was burying myself in another patient's files. A patient that escaped just days ago. "As I recall, Barbie's name is Barbie, not Cynthia," I commented dismissively, not really paying attention. This had been agitating the Joker, so he had taken to criticizing every detail that he knew about me. Apparently, my name was now the object of his scrutiny.

He shook his head, still a look of slight disgust on his face. "Cyn-th-ia…" he tried again, as if trying to find hidden meaning behind it. "Cyn-th-ia…Cyn…Sin!" He snapped his fingers, which was the only gesture of revelation he could manage in the handcuffs. "You alright if I call you Sin, Barbie?" he inquired, as though he was asking permission. Normally, I would have been amused at the thought of someone like the Joker asking permission to do anything.

"Whatever floats your boat, Joker," I told him absently, pursing my lips at the horror of the file I had been staring at for days. The gruesome renderings of a picture making my skin crawl. I recalled the disgust I had felt when my poor eyes had first laid on it.

Three days ago…

"Daniel Dew escaped from his holding cell at the Yorkshire Psychiatric Institution at precisely 8:24 a.m. this morning. We don't have much to go on as far as how he managed this, for he destroyed all video evidence. But we can guess from the crime scene that he managed to get out of his cell and kill three guards. There were signs of a struggle, so it is possible that he is deeply injured," one of the cops recited, as was his duty. He kept his hands behind his back, and subconsciously I wondered why I hadn't gone into police work. All saluting, no one touches anyone. Meanwhile, I was spiraling.

The Commissioner grunted and admitted, "Though, Dr. Dawn, he couldn't have been too grievously injured, because the crime scene he left behind was…well, quite unnecessary for escape." He clicked the remote to the projector once more, and a new image replaced that of the man's face.

I stifled a gasp. There were three bodies nailed up to the walls and holding hands. It immediately reminded me of people holding hands on a hill against the rising sun. Blood had pooled on the ground, but if that wasn't sick enough, the murderer had drawn, in blood, water-drops on their faces, arms, and any open skin. Above their heads, it read WITH THE DAWN COMES DEW in red. I shuddered away from the phrase. God no, he was coming for me. Not again. This can't be happening…

The Commissioner cleared his throat, breaking me from my reverie. "I know that this might be hard to think about after…last time, but I'm going to need your cooperation in this case. We have every reason to believe you will be very directly connected to Daniel Dew's plans. It is for your best interests that you tell us all you can about this man and for protocol protection allow us place your home under surveillance until he is caught…"

The Joker was giggling. "Now, who did that?" he questioned giddily. Aghast, I glanced down to find that the folder had slipped from my fingers and was now splayed on the desk in plain sight. Hastily, I scrambled to close it. Never would I have been so careless. Already, I was losing control, and Daniel hadn't even reached me yet.

And yes, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that he would reach me. Daniel was cunning, and when his mind was set, he was like a steamroller, barreling through everything in his path to get what he wants. In fact, I was surprised he was taking this long. I did remember the words he once told me: 'I'm a very patient man, pet.' Flinching away from the memory, I reverted my attention to the Joker, whose eyes were curious and his expression amused. Already, this man knew more about me than most people. All of it my fault.

"Just a case that caught my attention," I answered numbly. I couldn't even manage to feel ashamed of myself. My emotional level hadn't moved past the shock in the past few days.

The Joker chuckled, narrowing his dark eyes. "Are we still playing the Lying Game? Because I thought we discontinued that a few sessions ago."

I frowned. "I'm not lying. I'm just not telling the truth. There is a difference. You, of all people, should know that." I took the folder back into my hands, not even able to find it in me to be worried about the Joker's knowledge; I was too distracted. There had been no news about anything Daniel had been up to, so either he was keeping a low profile until he struck (and he would strike), or he was somehow injured and unable to put his schemes into action. My nerves had been stretched out for the past three days, ready and willing to snap like rubber bands.

Plus, I was fuming at still being here. After the news of Daniel's escape, I had demanded that the court order be uplifted or at least held off until Daniel was captured again. But imagine my frustration when after nearly an hour of arguing with Crane, the judge, and just about anyone with the authorial power to release me from the job, I was sent back defeated, to continue my sessions with the Joker.

The Joker ignored my comment. "Who did it?" he repeated sinisterly. "An old patient?" he guessed, again absently tugging on his restraints, his dark eyes intent on my face, gauging me for a reaction. His words struck a nerve, and I felt myself visibly stiffen, despite my silent pleas against it. That was all he needed for an answer. He giggled shrilly, nearly bouncing with the anticipation. "Oooh! I sense a good story! Let's make this session sharing time!" He wetted his lips excitedly. I could hardly blame him. This was probably the most interesting thing he had experienced in his past few days at Arkham. If there was one thing I knew about Asylums, it is that they are incredibly dull, which usually makes my job a lot easier, because then I am the only interaction that they have besides themselves and those white walls.

Except this time. This was definitely not making my job easier. In fact, I was starting to grow anxious with the attention. Of course, it was only natural, but I was still wary. After Daniel, I didn't want interest from a killer. I returned to examining the picture. "Perhaps another day, Joker. Our time is almost up."

I was startled to see the Joker jump up and attempt to rip out of his restraints, laughing hysterically. "No, no no! You cannot start a story and not end it! Where is the fun in that?" he screeched at me, feverishly trying to stand straight. For a split second, I almost empathized with him; I knew the frustration of trying to stand, but something keeps pulling you down.

The door to his side of the room burst open, and two bulky men started inside, preparing to hold the Joker down and take him back to his cell. The camera must've picked up on the Joker's sudden hostility and sent men to end the session early.

I eyed the Joker with interest. Here was one of those moments where I doubted my theory of his sanity and acting skills. The Joker didn't even pause his struggle, even when the two men roughly grabbed him by the arms to contain him. I cleared my throat, and when it was unheeded, said loudly, "Hold on." The three looked at me, momentarily pausing. I held up a hand, the universal sign for 'back off'. When the guards didn't adhere, I glared at them. "Things are under control here. You needn't make him leave. Our session is yet to be over." I glanced and nodded at the camera in the corner of the room, ascertaining that the message was also for those who had sent the guards in the first place.

A few seconds later, the walkie-talkie clipped to one of the guards belt bleeped and a static ridden order filled the room. "Leave him be, boys." I couldn't help but smirk as the guards reluctantly released the Joker and filed out of the room.

The Joker giggled giddily, any previous frustration or anger apparently forgotten. "Didn't know you liked spending time with me so much, Sin," he snickered, sitting back down. I rolled my eyes and put the Daniel's file in my bag, glancing at my watch. I would have a few minutes to work with the madman. I fleetingly regretted not using up this time on what I was supposed to be doing: assessing the Joker. After all, I only met with him for two hours a day, and he was my only patient. I could stare at the damn photo for the other twenty-two hours a day.

"Well Joker, I could ask the same of you. Why are you still here? Rumor has it that you usually don't stay here long enough to sample Friday's Mystery Meat," I retorted, actually wanting to know. The Joker must have some plan for escape.

His eyes were gleaming darkly as he hissed, "Some little Barbie got in my way." His smile grew menacing. "But don't worry, I'm a wonderful improviser."

I narrowed my gaze suspiciously; it was obviously a threat. Was it an empty threat though? It would be the Joker's nature to say something just to unsettle me. This was too much right now. I couldn't deal with the puzzle that is the Joker and Daniel at the same time. I rubbed my temples. "I should've let them take you," I groaned wearily.

The Joker sniggered. "You know Sin, I'm going to have fun with you. A lot of fun. But we'll have to play our little game out first. That's okay though. I'm a very patient man."

I'm a very patient man…That sounds so familiar…

Oh, no. No, no, no, no…

Was it a sign? Did this mean that the Joker was following in Daniel's pattern of behavior? If so, this was definitely not good.

Or more specifically, not good for me.