2. Roles

"A massive breakout from Blackgate Penitentiary last night, led by Catwoman, has Gotham City Police Department searching all areas of the city. Civilians are advised to please lock all doors and windows and to hide away all valuable items..."

God, no. No. No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, nononononononono...!

The Riddler barely noticed Harley Quinn's concerned stare from across the table. Had he been thinking aloud?

"You okay, Eddie?"

The Riddler tore his eyes from the television screen that was mounted on the wall across the room. He suddenly had no desire to finish breakfast. Or touch it at all. In fact he was feeling more than a bit sick.

Harley turned to Ivy, who obviously had no interest in whatever problem The Riddler was facing at the moment... Or any problem he was facing ever. "Hey, Red, don't ya think Eddie's lookin' kinda pale?"

"No paler than usual, Harley. Just finish eating," Ivy responded, never actually looking at the panicky man Harley was so worried about.

The Riddler's eyes darted to one of the tables across the room, where the maskless, strawless, yet still somehow serene Scarecrow sat. The Mad Hatter was the only other person at the table, and even he sat a few feet away from Crane. Jervis' mouth was moving, but Edward doubted that the two men were having any actual, meaningful conversation. Fleetingly, Edward noticed that the Scarecrow had also not touched his breakfast. But, then he was forced to wonder if he'd ever actually seen Crane eat anything at all and realized that the answer was no... No surprise since the man looked far too thin and bony... Emaciated, really... To be anything more than a corpse. Real scarecrows made of wood and straw looked far more like healthy human beings than Jonathan Crane could ever hope to.

The Scarecrow turned his head as if aware of the Riddler's glare, and Edward Nigma quickly looked away. People who don't ever meet Crane might say that he is one of the least threatening criminals in Arkham - and certainly not scary in any way. Maybe it's the costume. Or the observation that he probably couldn't win a fistfight against a five year-old child... But, Jonathan Crane, if nothing else, had a terrifying way of getting into anyone's head... Unleashing his or her worst fears... And making victims doubt their own reality and their own selves...

Well, almost anyone. But, who in all of Arkham has a brain that can put even the good doctor's to shame? Why, it is I, Edward Nigma, of course!

The Riddler stood himself up slowly, pushing away from the table with the one arm he had that wasn't injured, and walked across the room, directly to the Scarecrow. The former psychiatrist never once looked up from the table, but Edward was certain that the man had noticed his approach. Edward Nigma loudly cleared his throat and pointed to the television dramatically. "How did you know about that?"

Still not looking away from the table, Jonathan Crane asked, "Does it scare you that I know so much, Edward?"

"Stop that. How did you know?"

"Aren't you supposed to know everything?" Crane folded his hands. "Is this a question that even The Riddler is unable to solve?"

"No! Of course not! I know all the answers!"

The Riddler's statement caught the attention of Jervis Tetch, who had previously been reciting a bit from "The Walrus and The Carpenter" - again. The Mad Hatter jolted up, eyes bright as he leaned onto the table, looking at Edward. "Why is a raven like a writing desk?" He stared expectantly at The Riddler, eyes glinting as if he had hope of finally finding an answer.

Of course, the Mad Hatter had posed the question many, many times before - to everyone, including Edward. And, there wasn't anything that The Riddler hated more than a question without an answer. "No, no, no!," Edward shrieked, jumping up and down.

Jervis continued to stare, entirely confused.

Edward held a hand to his forehead, desperately trying to wrack his brain - his GENIUS brain - for the answer.

Harley Quinn watched The Riddler's tantrum from across the room for a few seconds before she decided to intervene. She stood up and skipped over, intent on helping him out. "Come on, Eddie, they're nonsense words. Just for fun! They don't mean nothin', an' there's no real answer!"

The Riddler threw off Harley's soothing hand. "NO! It is a QUESTION! There MUST be an ANSWER!"

Harley sighed. "Jervis, why don't you go 'n sit with Ivy? Tell her all about Wonderland's big flowahs an' buttahflies..."

"Bread and butter flies, you mean..." He stood up. "...She's not a weed, is she? The flowers don't like weeds..."

"Go, Jervie. Please."

Jervis obediently headed toward the table Ivy was seated at.

Harley removed The Riddler's hand from his head. "Alright, what's goin' on, Eddie?"

With the Mad Hatter out of sight, Edward apparently lost his obligation to answer Lewis Carroll's question. He instead pointed accusingly at the Scarecrow, and said, with all the grace of a preschooler, "He's bothering me!"

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, and Harley frowned, saying, "Eddie, you're the one who walked ovah here in the first place. I saw ya."

"No! He was bothering me before that! Last night, he was trying to scare me!"

Jonathan Crane's face remained void of emotion. "If I remember correctly, it was you who began the conversation by commenting on my rhyme."

The Riddler opened his mouth to retaliate when he realized that Crane's argument was true... No, no it wasn't! It couldn't be! Edward Nigma was never in the wrong! Edward Nigma was never wrong! "His singing interrupted my crossword!"

Harley shook her head. "Alright, let's just drop it and move on, then, guys. Come on, Eddie." She sent a half-wave in the Scarecrow's direction. "See ya, Doctah Crane."

"Farewell, child."

And, Harley walked back to Ivy, assuming that Edward was right behind her. She sat down next to Ivy, and, as soon as she did so, the Mad Hatter jumped up, looking scandalized. "You, most certainly, ARE a WEED! No respect for a good hat!" Ivy rolled her eyes. Jervis turned to Harley, then, face softening. "How is your cowl?"

"Good: it's in the storeroom, with all the othah hats."

Satisfied, Jervis left the table.

Ivy continued to stab at the pieces of meat on her plate, so Harley shook her head, saying aloud to The Riddler, "Ya know, I really don't get why you 'n Doctah Crane don't get along, Eddie... I mean, you're both real smart. Ya could have lotsa 'ntelligent conversation. Really... I mean... Don't ya think so? ...Eddie?" Harley turned to look; too late she was reminded that it is never good to make assumptions.

The Riddler did not follow Harley back to the breakfast table. His mind was too preoccupied. Stupid Crane. Now everyone would think that he, Edward Nigma, was lying about the Scarecrow... Well, he'd get even! Oh, yes... He'd get even. Edward smiled.

Harley wheeled back around in the direction of the Scarecrow's table, but she only turned in time to see The Riddler's mouth open and release a shrill, earsplitting scream.

The whole room turned to stare.

Jonathan Crane watched Edward crumple to the floor, screaming and shrieking, "PLEASE! Somebody! Get them off! GET THEM OFF ME! Help! HELP!" The Master of Fear's face stayed blank. He'd been working up twelve weeks of good behavior. Another fifty would have earned him parole... But, he knew exactly what would await him after The Riddler's fit.

The guards had already been watching The Riddler and the Scarecrow carefully, due to Edward's earlier shouts about Jervis' question. So, when Edward hit the ground, the guards were on the move. The three nearest guards rushed for Jonathan, handcuffing his wrists, then his ankles - which were certainly no larger than his wrists. One of the guards shoved the thin, bony prisoner to the floor, holding him down - as if Jonathan Crane bothered to put up a fight. The guard yelled to his colleagues, "Go get Riddler's doctor!"

There was a faint, "Who - Leland?," but the question apparently answered itself, as a few of the guards ran off.

Lip curling, Jonathan spat, "You must feel so strong... Able to keep down a man whose weight is less than half of your own, when his wrists and ankles are cuffed."

"Shut up, Scarecrow!"

Harley flinched when the guard's hand clapped across Jonathan's pale face. She watched Edward roll on the ground, screeching horribly. Of course, The Riddler wasn't really afraid of spiders. Or snakes, or scorpions... Or worms... So, in his real nightmares, he wouldn't be screaming for help to "get them off". He was faking it. Harley Quinn knew that. Poison Ivy knew that. The Scarecrow knew that. The Ventriloquist and Scarface and Mr. Freeze knew that. Killer Moth and Firefly and Hugo Strange knew that. Every inmate in the whole cafeteria knew that. Even Batman would have known that. But, the Arkham guards... They didn't know. And what they didn't know, Jonathan Crane was going to pay for.

Harley's blonde pigtails bounced as she looked from Jonathan to Edward to Ivy. "Ivy, whadda we do?" Eddie was a friend: that fact was certain... But, poor Dr. Crane hadn't actually done anything wrong...

"We mind our own business, Harley."

So, feeling a bit saddened, Harley Quinn returned to her food and didn't see any more of the scene.

The Riddler watched with glee as the guards threw the Scarecrow's skeletal form onto a stretcher and belted him down. They wheeled him away - no doubt to extreme isolation, where no one would hear another rhyme from him for days... Ha! Serves him right... Trying to prove Edward Nigma wrong...