Chapter 20 Realize That I'm Nothing I Wanted To Be

He got away again. She couldn't believe it. He'd slipped right through her fingers. This would not happen again. She was Cassandra Cain, born to be the best. This would not happen again.

She avoided Ethan's place as she drove the Batmobile out of Gotham; she had no desire to see him now. Tonight she needed the Bat computer, so Cassie had no choice but to return to the cave beneath Wayne Manor, Bruce be damned. She wasn't the slightest bit surprised to find him in front of the screen, looking intently at the screen. The screen showed Helena, aged 3, 7, 14 and 16. If it had been anyone else, Cassie would've written him off as a creeper, but she wasn't the least bit surprised that Bruce had kept tabs on his daughter. Perhaps a bit disappointed in herself for not noticing. So she ignored it when she spoke, "I need the computer."

Bruce didn't move in the slightest. His eyes never left screen and Cassie could see the gears behind them going as fast as ever. "What for?"

She scowled. "I'm Batwoman."

Bruce did to turn to face her after the copied move. "I gave you this case almost ten months ago. Have you solved it?"

"He who is prudent and lies in wait for an enemy who is not, will be victorious," quoted Cassie.

"Know the enemy, know yourself; your victory will never be endangered. Know the ground, know the weather; your victory will then be total," Bruce quoted back.

"Alfred told me about Clark's visit. Still keeping tabs?"

Bruce's eyes narrowed. "Someone is trying to kill my daughter, I think I'm allowed to be a bit overprotective."

She met his hard gaze. "And what of Gotham's protection. I will not let the Riddler strike again."

"Be careful, Cassie, don't let your obsession with the Riddler consume you."

If she'd been Dick, she would have responded with a quip about Bruce giving advice on obsessing. As it was she simply pushed him out of the way to do her own work.

Bruce said one more thing before walking away, "He who knows when he can fight and when he cannot will be victorious."

The Riddler was quite pleased with himself. Another success against the Batwoman, part of him longed for a deeper challenge, but his bank account was just fine with an enemy who could break his arm but never quite catch him. He returned home with an extra skip in his step, for tonight, she hadn't even managed that. He didn't bother flipping on the lights because he would be sleeping soon anyhow.

But a lamped found it's way on, with a man sitting behind the impressive desk he used when hiring muscle. The man motioned to the tiny seat across from him. "Have a seat, Mr. Riddler."

The Riddler refused to show surprised at the unexpected visitor, or fury at the stranger's treatment of him. He dismissed sitting in the tiny little chair meant to put dumb muscle in its place even before it was hired, preferring to stand with his arms folded. "Do I know you?"

The man gave a cruel smile. "I'm a friend."

The Riddler was not impressed. "My friends have names."

He motioned again. "Sit."

The Riddler raised an eyebrow. "Odd name."

The man with such dark features let out a sigh as if dealing with a too curious child. "I could tell you my name or I could tell you who I am. One of these things is a far more valuable piece of information."

The Riddler relented and sat down. He was too exhausted to continue standing and he was desperately curious. He mustered as much dignity as he could in his small spot, letting his wit shine. "Let me guess. You're the philosopher?

The man didn't look impressed. "Hardly."

The Riddler shrugged it off. He'd met people who were far stranger. "So what can I do for your Mr. No Name?"

With a refined dignity he replied, "I am in need of your services."

He had neither time nor patience for this. "Look, if you need a thief. I'm good, but you might want to go with someone a bit more under the radar."

The man chuckled cruelly. "No, under the radar is most definitely not what I want."

The Riddler's interest was certainly peaked now. "Oh?"

The man rose from his spot and walked over to look out the window. The dim moonlight gave him an eerie aura. "I need you to lure Batwoman to a certain location at a certain time."

"Bait? You want me to be bait? I don't do bait." The Riddled got up to leave, more offended then he'd been since, well he didn't want to go there.

The man turned. "Where are you going? This is your favorite lair."

The Riddler stopped dead in his tracks. It was the truth though he suspected a bluff. He kept his tone causal and light. "I have other lairs."

The man walked towards him menacingly. "I know. I could list their locations for you."

He dismissed the funny feeling in his gut and spoke sardonically, "Right."

The sinister man gave another smile. He went over to the desk he previously occupied and pulled out a manilla folder from seemingly nowhere. He handed to the Riddler, who read it with fervor. His only response was a barely spoken, "Shit."

The smile widened. "Now you see. I know everything about you."

For the first time that night the Riddler spoke with anger, "Are you blackmailing me?"

The other man with his refined eloquent tone, "I simply require your assistance."

The Riddler calmed himself down., thinking logically. "Right. What do I get out of this deal?"

"A worthy advisory."

The other man had spoken with such a serious dramatic flair that the Riddler felt he needed to be equally flippant. "A worthy advisory; that's it?"

The other man clarified. "Batman's child."

Again, the Riddler was intrigued. "Batman has a child?"

"So we have an agreement?"

But the Riddler wasn't done yet. "How do you know Batman has a child?"

Now it was the other man who was getting frustrated. "I will not answer your ridiculous questions."

The Riddler spoke in the sinister Rogue voice required in his line of work, "Oh but I so love questions." He gave his own smile, and then he switched to cold logical thinking. "Batwoman is his heir apparent. For all you know she is his child."

The other man scoffed. "Batwoman is no more Batman's child than you are the former Riddler's."

He shrugged. "Everyone knows who the old Riddler was; once you know my name it's pretty simple to figure out we're not related."

"Batwoman is Cassandra Cain, daughter of David Cain, who was not Batman," he spoke it with such certain that even a man who loved to question things let it go, but still he wanted to know the real question.

"Then who was?"

"The old Riddler found the answer to that question, perhaps you will too." The Riddler feels a newfound respect for the man he modeled his criminal career after, but then loses it when he thinks how he should've used the advantage. Later he wondered and checked if anyone was targeted more, and Bruce Wayne was his main target, but the Waynes were the Rockefellers of Gotham, everyone attacked them the most. "I shall contact you with further information."

Lost in his thoughts he snapped himself out of it. "I never said yes."

"I will not accept another answer."

He strode away and left with an arrogance that the Riddler found supremely irritating and unwarranted. He mutter to himself as he shuffled to bed, "What an asshole."

Barbara did not want to mettle. She liked to think that she didn't do it, but the nickname of the 'all-knowing Oracle' made her think otherwise. It was Bruce's voice in her head, telling her that you must look at the facts, unpleasant as they may be. The fact was that Helena not speaking with her parents was destroying all three of them. Selina was wrecked with guilt, even putting aside her pride to call for Barbara's assistance in talking to her daughter (though it was made perfectly clear that it was asking, not begging). Alfred reported on the condition of Bruce as best he could, and it was not looking good there either. And Barbara could see the hatred consuming Helena, and she knew what happened to those who let that happen.

She'd been fighting them all her life, and she'd be damned before she'd see Helena walk down that path. Suddenly, a thunk snapped her from her thoughts and she looked up to see the subject of her thoughts standing there expectantly.

"A little light reading?" Barbara asked, picking up The Psychology of the Criminal Mind that Helena had dropped in front of her.

"Know thy enemy, Barbara." Helena said with a smirk.

Barbara checked the book out but quietly asked, "Planning on putting on a mask?"

Helena looked shocked. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean. I am planning on being a doctor, and every good med student will tell you that psychologists are the devil. I plan on being able to argue point-by-point as to why insanity is caused by a chemical imbalance and not Daddy not hugging enough."

"You really believe that don't you?"

Helena leaned in close and lowered her voice. "Do you really think that my athletic prowess, high intelligence and petulance for violence came from Chet and June Troy?" Picked up her books. "Nature versus Nurture. A person's true nature will always win."

As she left, Barbara called after her, "You should speak with your parents, Helena!"

Helena found herself at the café that was now fairly common to her, after Cassie's lesson. But this time she wasn't with familiar company. Edward Nygma sipped his tea and toyed with the automated order form at the table. Helena waited for him to focus back in on her. It took longer than she thought it would until he was finished toying with the technology at the table. "Why did you want to speak with me, Helena?"

Helena set down her gourmet coffee and spoke the rehearsed speech she prepared for. "I told you, I'm doing my thesis on the criminal mind, and how is biological and not psychological. This is Gotham, I put a real Rogue's name on it, and even if my research is shit, I'll pass."

He half-smirked. "Sounds reminiscent of Harleen Quinzel."

Helena picked up her coffee again, dismissing his comments. "She wanted a book, I only want thirty pages. Besides, like I said it's biological, psychological cues can only trigger what's been there all along."

The smirk hadn't left his face. "So I'm still crazy? Arkham didn't cure me?"

She kept his gaze. "You had a brain tumor, Mr. Nygma. It was removed."

Helena was impressed by the former Riddler's poker face. He didn't have a tell that she could see. "I'll make you a deal. You answer my questions and I'll answer yours."

"Why would I answer first?"

His smirk turned into a smile and he leaned in closer. "Because I know that pre-med students don't write a thesis, especially not after they graduate, and your questions will be much different than you claim." He leaned back. "But I like games, and I will be willing to play all afternoon with a sharp mind like yours."

She leaned back as well, resting her arm on the back of her chair. "Ask your question."

"Questions," he corrected. "Why did you really want to speak with me?"

Helena decided to lay it out on the table. "To figure out if you're trying to kill me. It was unlikely but I have to eliminate all possibilities with absolute certainty."

Edward studied Helena, and she realized what it was like to be the bacteria and cells she studied under a microscope. "Bruce Wayne is your father, isn't he?"

She saw no reason to lie. "Yes."

"Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle had a daughter." He stated it as though saying it aloud is what made it true. He shook his head with a laugh. "God help us all."

She laughed softly in return. "So I meet your approval then?"

The wide smile never left his face. "Are you kidding? I wish I were 30 years younger so I could battle you behind masks. You'd be so much more fun than your father."

Helena tensed at the mention of her father. "Who said I was following his footsteps?"

Edward sipped his tea and then looked at her with heavy disbelief. "Both your parents played dress-up. You're the one saying it's biological, not psychological."

"Touché." She picked up her drink again. She faced off with him for a moment more. "You're not the one."

His eyebrow shot up. "Excuse me?"

"I've decided that you're not trying to kill me." Most people would've been offended but Edward Nygma laughed. "Now why don't you entertain me with tales from your past."

He laughed and began, "Well…"

"You spent all afternoon with the former Riddler?"

Cassie couldn't believe it, but Helena shrugged it off, grabbing her water bottle after another tough workout between the two of them. "He was a ton of fun, I can see why mom likes him so much." She paused. "Well, until you mentioned the new Riddler anyway."

"The Riddler is not a joke, but a criminal."

Helena kept her face neutral. "I guess the new Riddler is an issue for you. How did you know where I was this afternoon anyway?"

"Bruce."

Helena glowered, but Cassie didn't seem to notice. She continued with her thoughts, "It'll be much better when you're Batgirl…"

"Excuse me? I don't recall ever saying I'd be Batgirl."

Cassie couldn't have been more shocked then if Helena had punched her in the stomach. "Why are you training then?"

Helena gave Cassie her full attention. "Because someone is trying to kill me."

Cassie asked her the Bruce's question. "What about Gotham?"

Helena's attention went back to preparing her exit. "I don't care about Gotham."

Cassie found she understood Bruce's shock. "You live in Gotham."

Helena turned back to Cassie. "Not everyone in Gotham has a duel identity."

"That shouldn't matter. You're human."

"That's rich considering your past."

No own have ever dared to allude to her past before, and Cassie didn't like it now. She decided to bring up Helena's own past and blood, "Your family…"

"I don't know who my family is anymore," Helena nearly shouted. She looked as surprised as Cassie at the outburst. But her quick exit brought Cassie a strange feeling of relief. Cassie didn't dwell on the fight between them, going back to thinking about catching the Riddler.

AN: Sorry it took so long to update. Time and inspiration just never matched up. The quotes are from Sun Tzu's Art of War.