Authors Note: Hey, its been a while, but I hope you haven't forgotten me. I'll be uploading a few chapters today so sit tight :D
Two nights had passed for Edward in solitary. Boles hadn't stopped in to torture him again. Edward wasn't entirely sure why he had been bypassed, or why he was even in solitary for so long, but he didn't make a fuss; he didn't want another beating.
By the third day the door of the cell opened, Edward looked up shakily before two guards pulled him to his feet and rushed him to the infirmary. "Am I out? I don't have to go back?!" Edward asked them nervously.
"Shut it Nigma." The guard he kicked in the knees the other day ordered.
Edward didn't speak, he was too scared to do anything of the sort. They didn't take him out of his straitjacket, instead they put a mask on his face. He breathed in the gas confused, and within seconds he was out cold.
When he woke, Edward was in his own cell, in the bed. He felt bandages on his face, but he didn't question it. He was out of solitary finally, and he didn't have to go back as long as he remained calm. He let himself lie there for a while before his cell doors opened again. "Time for therapy Nigma, now get up." A dark haired guard ordered pulling him to his feet.
Edward was shuffled along the hallway until they made it to Dr. Harleen Quinzel's office. The guards sat him down in the chair. Dr. Quinzel got a good look at Edward's face, and a look of concern flooded her own face. "Good God, what happened to you?" She looked from him to the guards.
The two guards said nothing to her, they simply averted their eyes and left the room. "I don't really want to discuss the matter." Edward looked from her concerned eyes to the floor.
"I'd ask how you're feeling, but that would be pointless. You look awful." Dr. Quinzel stepped closer to him and undid the straitjacket, allowing him to pull it off.
She sat back down, watching as he stretched out his arms carefully; the sound of snapping came from his elbows, followed by a relieved sigh. "I appreciate you letting me out of this god awful device." He muttered, gaining just a hint of the spice he normally carried in conversations.
"Did you want to talk about what happened to you? I'm here to listen if you have something to say. It's purely confidential." Dr. Quinzel asked, looking at him curiously.
Edward shook his head. "I'd much rather not." He looked at his hands looking them over, "I would like to see my face if you don't mind. I haven't seen it since before this happened... I don't know how bad it is, but it sounds bad."
Dr. Quinzel pulled a small compact from her drawer and handed it to him. Edward looked over his face with some disdain. "Huh, my nose was readjusted from the last time it was broken! That's a plus." He remarked rather sarcastically.
She wrote down all his notable injuries in his file, taking back the compact when it was handed back to her. "How did this happen, Edward? I can report it discreetly. I can get the person or people responsible in trouble."
"I appreciate the gesture but no, I'll be fine. I do wonder why I had to be born with such a long nose though, it's the main target in most beatings." He commented looking at her face.
She looked at him for a long moment before stating her thought process, "It was Boles wasn't it?" She said in a hushed tone.
Edward's eyes flashed a look of wonder. "I just wanted a cigarette and it resulted into this. That's all I'm saying. If you don't mind I'd rather enjoy a cigarette now."
"Edward, I can't let you smoke in here. After your session you can try to have one, but right now I can't allow it." She informed him.
Edward locked his fingers together, crossing one leg over the other as he sat with a lean. "Very well, let's get on with it then. What do you want to know?" He seemed to be on the edge of irritation.
"Tell me how you've felt since coming off the medication you were on?" Dr. Quinzel asked, taking notes.
"Much better, I've had moderate temperatures, and no more hot flashes. My skin and finally stopped boiling." Edward informed her cooperating for the moment.
"Good. Anything else you'd like to note?" She asked, writing down his response.
"I feel better than I have in months, doctor. I think I need to stay off the medication. Clearly nothing is wrong with me." He pointed out quite positively.
"I will be the judge of that, Edward. Have you experienced any mood swings lately?" She asked.
"Not since I've been on my medication." He shook his head.
"Perfect. Moving on then." She looked up at him, putting down her pen and neatly folding her hands on her desk. "I wanted to start your actual therapy now that my assessments are put aside. Tell me about yourself."
"My name is Edward Nigma. I graduated university with honours, and now I'm an inmate at Arkham Asylum." He briefly summarized everything she would already know about him from his file.
"Edward, if you want to get better you have to let me talk to you." She tried to convince him.
"I don't need to get better. I'm not ill." He looked at Dr. Quinzel with annoyance.
"Why are you so on the defensive all the time?" She asked curiously.
"I am not on the defensive. I just don't see the point of this." He stated angrily.
"To evaluate you." She explained.
"I do not wish to be picked and prodded at like science project!" He yelled.
Dr. Quinzel wrote down a few more notes. "What are you writing?" He asked angrily.
"I'm making a note about how rapidly your moods change. Do you often have issues sleeping?" She inquired.
"My moods don't change rapidly." He glared. "They change when I get angry."
"Precisely, you get angry very easily. Now, do you or do you not sleep well?" She asked again calmly.
"I- Why do you want to know?" He furrowed his brows.
"Just answer the question, Edward. It's not difficult." She sighed, slightly annoyed with how much energy she was wasting on him.
Edward wasn't entirely sure what the answer would result in but he nodded. "Yes, I've always had issues sleeping. Being off the medication or being on it doesn't change that." He tapped his fingers against the arms of the chair.
Dr. Quinzel made a note of this, "Thank you."
"May I go now?" He asked coldly.
"Yes you may. Come see me in a few days, when you've calmed down and you're feeling better." She adjusted her glasses, looking up at him as he stood up.
Edward stood up and nodded his head. "Very well Dr. Quinzel." He headed out of the room, passing the guards.
They seemed surprised to see him walking on his own but made no attempt to stop him. Edward headed straight for the nurse's station. "I want a cigarette." He told her.
The nurse made a face at the idea of him smoking and handed him one before getting back to her work. "I'm going to need a light." He raised a brow.
"Talk to Jerry, he's in the smoking section." The nurse said without looking up.
Edward headed into the common room sectioned off from the rest of the ward where patients could smoke in an enclosed room. Jerry was a large Jamaican security officer, but he wasn't cruel like some of them. "I need a light." Edward informed him.
"Sure man." He said pulling a brass-coloured Zippo from his pocket.
He flicked it and ignited a small flame. Edward leaned in and inhaled the cancerous goodness he'd been missing for days. Exhaling he felt satisfaction wash over him. He smiled slightly at Jerry. "Thank you."
Jerry nodded to him watching Edward walk over to the open window where the other smokers had to sit while smoking. Edward sat next to Harvey Dent, who was smoking at a table by himself. "Looks like you've met Boles." Harvey commented, his own bruises still healing.
Edward flicked his brows, inhaling his smoke. "I have indeed. I can't say I like him either."
Harvey exhaled and shook his head with a slight smile playing on the 'normal' side of his face. "I'm not surprised to hear that."
Edward deduced by Harvey's mood he was talking to 'Harvey' not 'Two-face' at the moment. He didn't much care for the darker personality, but it seemed on his medication he was more moderate with his temper. "Who's your doctor here, Harvey?"
"Dr. Crane. He's a piece of work..." Harvey commented, taking another drag.
"How so?" Edward raised a brow.
"The moron seems to think taking my coin from me is going to help matters, it just pisses me off." Harvey shook his head.
"I've got Dr. Quinzel." Edward informed him taking a drag from his own smoke.
"Yeah? How is she?" He looked at him with interest.
"She's very set on 'curing me', but we both know I'm fine." Edward told Harvey, as if the woman were insane.
Harvey let out a laugh. "You? Fine? You wish Nigma."
Edward glared sharply at him. "What is that supposed to mean? I don't have any mental disorders."
"Anyone who builds death traps and puts people through them is mental." Harvey decided.
"I'm not mental!" He yelled.
"Hey! Break it up over there before I have to kick your ass out!" Jerry warned.
Edward finished his cigarette, shooting Harvey a glare before heading out of the room. Harvey just chuckled and shook his head. "If she offers you meds, take 'em Eddie!"
Edward muttered death threats under his breath as he headed for his cell.