Authors Note: Things are picking up for Eddie!
Edward had quieted down since his trip to solitary confinement. He hardly talked to anyone deciding any sort of conversation could easily wind him up in solitary again. He had a bad habit of mouthing off, and he knew perfectly well he couldn't stop himself.
He mulled over in his mind what Dr. Quinzel had said about his mood swings, and was starting to think she might be right. He could get mad very easily, and then suddenly be just fine and dandy. That wasn't normal at all. Edward decided he would go see Dr. Quinzel in the afternoon. If she was right, which he hoped she wasn't, then he did have a problem, and he did need help.
Being in Arkham Asylum had changed him, and he had yet to decide if it was for the better. He started off his day with his usual slimy, disgusting breakfast, and this time Jarvis sat at a totally different table, still blathering on as usual. Someone needed to put him on medication. Edward wondered who his doctor was.
After breakfast he made his way to the as had he dubbed it. He got another cigarette from the nurse's station and headed over to Jerry for a light before sitting down next to the window table. He looked up at the television as it played a rather mind-numbing comedy show. Edward despised the wit-dulling contraption, he only ever watched it for the news.
Harvey sat a few tables away writing something on a piece of paper with a supplied crayon. Pens and pencils were far too dangerous, but burning cigarettes were just fine. Edward tried to ignore him, he wasn't thrilled with being called mental, but Harvey wasn't a man you wanted to mess with either. Edward watched the news when it came on, but nothing new seemed to have turned up, least of all not on the New Year's Day murder.
Once his smoke was burnt down low enough he got up and headed for Dr. Quinzel's office. He knocked on her door, and heard her respond, "Come in."
Edward opened her door and walked in. "Would you mind terribly if I come see you today, Dr. Quinzel?"
She smiled up at him. "Not at all Edward. Come sit down." She seemed thrilled he had come on his own.
Edward closed the door behind him and sat down in the chair in front of her desk. She leaned forward, looking at him with her hands clasped on her desk. "What's on your mind today?"
"I have been doing a lot of thinking, and a lot of wondering, doctor." He said looking over at her.
"What about?" She asked curiously.
"I have a compulsion for riddles. I have an obsession with testing people. I have tried hard to refrain from asking you to answer any riddles as of yet, but I want to. It helps me understand you better." Edward explained, speaking to her in a different way than he normally talked.
Dr. Quinzel nodded a bit. "All right. I'll answer a riddle, but only if you actually talk to me about you after." She was simply intrigued by this change in him.
"Of course, but only if you get the riddle right." He told her.
Dr. Quinzel nodded, "That's a deal Edward. Just one riddle."
Edward took a second to decide just which riddle he should ask. "What has many keys, but can't even open a single door?" He asked curiously.
She sat for a moment thinking about all the possibilities before suddenly the answer dawned on her. "A piano, right?" She asked.
Edward looked at her for a moment, "Correct." Perhaps she was worthy of listening to, but he still didn't want to believe there was anything wrong with him.
Dr. Quinzel smiled a little, "So now you'll answer my questions?"
"A deal's a deal, madam." He said looking into her eyes awaiting her first question.
"Alright Edward. I'm very curious about your childhood. Please tell me about it." Dr. Quinzel looked at him getting her pen and paper ready.
Edward straightened a bit in the chair. "My mother left when I was very young, I don't even really remember her other than the photos dad had hidden in the closet of his bedroom." He started thinking back, "My father and my mother had me by accident, or so I've been told repeatedly. He was a football player in high school, and she had been dating him. When my mother was eighteen she got pregnant with me, and she and my father dropped out just before graduation to get a job and raise me. My dad wound up working on a construction crew. He likely still works there, and STILL blames me for the whole thing. It's not my problem he couldn't keep it in his pants."
Dr. Quinzel wrote down what he told her. "I read on your file you changed your last name." She looked up at him.
"I did. I was born Edward Nashton, but that last name held nothing but bad memories, so right when I got to university I changed my last name to Nigma. It holds much more meaning to me anyhow." Edward explained calmly.
"Enigma is what your name turns into. Very clever." Dr. Quinzel smiled a little.
"You'd be amazed at how few people get the connection." Edward smirked.
"Did you and your father ever get along?" She asked curiously.
"Now, now... you have to answer another riddle correct if you want to get that information out of me." Edward decided.
Dr. Quinzel placed her pen to her lower lip before reluctantly nodding. "All right, that's fair. What's the next riddle?"
"I have a tongue, but do not talk. I have no legs, but very far I'll walk. What am I?" Edward knew these riddles weren't his hardest riddles, but he'd build her up for those later.
Dr. Quinzel took a moment to process before moving her pen from her lips, "A shoe."
Edward closed his eyes for a moment, nodding before he continued. "No, my father and I never got along. His love for sports was too great, and my love for knowledge was far greater. He tried when I was a young boy to get me interested in playing ball but I was far too wrapped up in books and crafts. On one specific occasion when I was ten he hurled a football at my head after I refused to go outside and play it with him. All of this only fed my thirst for knowledge and power. I strived to be smarter than him, and I succeeded beyond my wildest dreams."
Edward could feel his mood changing, he was starting to get angry, he balled his fist feeling his nails digging into his palm; where did the intense rage come from exactly? "Edward, did-" She was cut short.
"My apologies for the interruption, but I can feel it... I'm starting to get angry..." This time he allowed himself to pay attention to his mood. Mind over matter seemed to work.
Dr. Quinzel furrowed her brows. "You're paying attention to it today. You're starting to believe me?"
Edward sighed and covered his face with both hands. "Maybe you are right... maybe I do need help."
"This is the first step, Edward. I'm proud of you." She smiled softly.
"What do you think it is?" Edward looked up at her, worried he had some sort of psychotic mental problem that was completely incurable.
"From what I've seen so far, I'd say you have a more severe case of bipolar disorder. It's treatable, but you have to be willing to take it seriously." She informed him.
Edward looked up at her. "That's all?" He asked a bit nervous.
"Well, you definately have OCD, but I don't consider that as much of a threat, it's just the bipolar disorder doesn't help any. I'm willing to put you on trial medication, and if it works for you we'll keep you on it, but if it only makes matters worse, I won't keep you on it. How does that sound?" She asked him.
Edward nodded, "Sure. I'll try it." Whatever would deem him normal enough to get out of that hellhole, he thought.
Dr. Quinzel pulled out another sheet and started writing down a few medications. "I'm going to put you on lithium carbonate to help level out your moods. I'm also going to put you on Prozac, and Trazodone." She informed him.
Edward nodded, "Alright. When do I start the medication?"
"Tomorrow, first thing. This time when the nurse gives you pills, please don't fight her off." She looked at him pointedly.
"You heard about that?" He raised a brow.
"Yes, I hear about everything. I'm your doctor." She reminded.
Edward smirked a little, his mood turning rapidly normal again. "Alright then. I'll stick with it."
"Good, we'll see how you feel in about a month's time." Dr. Quinzel nodded, very pleased he was cooperating so well with her today. "Did you want to talk some more?"
Edward shook his head, "No thank you, Dr. Quinzel. I'm going to head back to my cell. I'm tired..." He stated standing up.
"The Trazodone should help with that once you get started on it. Take care Edward." She smiled at him.
Edward nodded politely and headed out of the room silently. Hopefully this would help him.
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