I don't belong here [Arkham] Flashback

[Deleted]

Since arriving he had many complaints about the standard of this cage he was forced to live in called Arkham Asylum. The court had seen him unfit to stand trial, which after his action against Doctor Wynn, the stupid nurse, and his old employer Bob Mitchell, was the best result. He could consider himself slightly thankful that he was sitting in a cold room on a broken chair instead of sitting on death row, but he wasn’t. Edward Nigma was bitter.

The bruising on his face from the aggressive attack of the man who felt the need to dress like a bat had finally started to fade. His broken arm was still slapped in a cast, but he was still forced into handcuffs, even during this “therapy” session. His leg screamed in pain, but he dulled it by grinding his teeth in frustration.

Complaint Number 57

Arkham staff in unable to recognize necessities of the patients and only offers medical drugs that tamper with intellectual abilities instead of methods that could be solved by a simple need of distraction.

For god sakes, he would take children’s maze book, something to get his mind focus away from the gnawing pain that kept flooding his body.

They were all fools. The entire city was filled with them. He might only be twenty five, but he could recognize stupidity even if it didn’t glare in his face like the citizens of Gotham. They should be thanking him for what he did! He prevented a terrible surgeon from ever practicing again by letting the man’s own lack of intelligence take his arm. He took a disorganized woman who couldn’t properly file and gave her a real challenge of the mind, he couldn’t be blamed for her death. He would have finished his work. He would have saved Gotham from the destruction of a wall street giant who couldn’t see the nose in front of him, but that thing….that Batman had to get in the way!

How did he solve his riddle?

How?

It didn’t make any sense?!

Not only was the riddle coded, within it was another riddle which would lead to a location with another. How did he figure out the riddles and that Wall Street idiot were a distraction as he stole back the millions of dollars the belong to him. He deserved it for what they put him through. If evolution was allowed to flourish the proper way, they would all be long extinct.

How did that man do it?!

He huffed, trying to stretch in the uncomfortable chair. They had wheeled him in on a wheelchair, which was degrading enough. He might be crippled, but he could walk, if they would just give him his cane.

Complaint Number 57

Orange is a hideous color.

He thought as his eyes looked at the ugly orange sleeve. How much longer did they expect a mind like his to wait? He didn’t stand still for anyone!

His eyes jumped around the white wall room that reminded him of the GCPD integration room. The metal table in front of him, brought no sign of comfort. They couldn’t truly believe that an environment like this was the best form for a session? He would almost prefer to be back in that hole they called his cell and lounge on that lumpy piece of furniture.

How did the Batman do it?

He couldn’t stop coming back to the riddle. It was plaguing his mind. The GCPD was full of people unable to tie their shoes. Where did this man come from? Why did he dress like a bat? How did he solve it?!

His found four security cameras in the room and then looked at the door. It was a keycode lock that could be easily rewired. He would only need an item to take apart the screws in it. He would then have five minutes to enable the orderly outside the door and make it to the laundry chute. It could be accomplished, especially with his handcuffs, right amount of pressure and angle on his neck, it wouldn’t matter if he had a broken arm, the orderly would lose consciousness. Hmm no, not yet. The riddle…the Batman.

He had to figure it out before he moved any next piece in the game. As a chess master, you learn patience is key to victory.

The door opened, and his eyes went up to the doctor. He knew who he was. He had seen him in news articles after the first few Gotham Rogues as they were calling them now, were sent here. The man in front of him was none other than Dr. Jeremiah Arkham.

“Complaint Number 58, Staff appears to run consistently 10 minutes late. Dr. Arkham, I do hope you have a suggestion box. I hardly think I am the only one who fines these living standard poorly inadequate, especially since we currently live in a first world country,” he stated, as if he wasn’t a boy in an orange jump suit, bruised and stuck in a chair.

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

Some of the session rooms in the asylum had two-way mirrors. These were used for new patients and their doctors and at that moment, Jeremiah was standing behind it taking in the institute’s newest arrival. His file rested by Jeremiah’s hand and he glanced down at it. Edward Nigma. He had a financial analyst, a technician—a far cry from the job he had once held—and now he was a criminal with a rap sheet of attempted murders and murder. He probably would have succeeded had it not been Batman.

Batman. Jeremiah’s eyes found the dark-haired man again and sighed. Was such violence necessary? He saw the now healing bruising on Edward’s face. He reached into his pocket and felt the handcuff key. Those would be the first to go—what had been the point of handcuffing him anyway? He couldn’t see his leg, but he had Edward’s medical record. He knew of the damage and could imagine it was now hurting rather stridently.

He made a mental note of that.

Had he not been offered anything? For all of Jeremiah’s knowledge he’d recently been moved and this was the first time meeting him. The reports from the nurse’s, doctors, and guards that been overseeing him until he’d come in had been rudimentary and gave Jeremiah absolutely nothing to go on.

It wasn’t that he was walking in there blind, but he was walking in there without an acceptable report of his medical status and mental status. The latter was easily seen though. The gritting of his teeth and how his body was sitting. He could very well tell just how agitated and in pain the man was. He was certainly irritated.

Jeremiah picked up the file and made to leave the room. Edward thought he had been doing Gotham a favor and that in of itself intrigued the doctor. Yes, he was intrigued. Was he to mourn the victims? The dead? Nothing would settle that pain or bring them back. It was such a waste of time and action. What Edward had done, however, no that wasn’t a waste. His traps and riddles were masterpieces, puzzles that not only showed the flaws of those placed it in but the mind and intelligence of the man who had set them into play. Such a pity he’d done so few before the dark knight had foiled that. Jeremiah would have loved to have more of his crimes to dissect and hear of. What a misfortune that Batman had to ruin such a study.

But what a study figuring out how Batman had done it would have been too. Oh, Batman…

Jeremiah wanted to examine that man and his brain as well. What inspired a man to such extremes? What made him think he was any better than the numerous criminals he’d placed behind bars? He was just a criminal as them, only he did it in the name of justice.

Jeremiah barked a laugh. Justice.

He pressed the code into the keypad and the locks disengaged and the door opened. Jeremiah stepped in and paused to hear the numerous locks reengage and then it came the buzz of the door as it was now armed with electricity. He sighed almost in relish before he moved to the table.

“I’m right on time, Mr. Nigma,” he said as he finished the key from his pocket. He leaned over the table and removed Edward’s handcuffs. “In fact, I’m a little early, but I had to watch you first get a feel for the situation.” He dropped the handcuffs to the metal table and then took a seat. “I don’t like these conditions either, but if you have complaints I’d take them up with your fellow patients. They’ve made such…installments necessary. Though, really…if half of my staff were as observant as they should be I doubt we'd need these bland surroundings.”

He placed Edward’s file next on the table. “I find it too clinical for my liking and I’m a doctor,” he chuckled before moving on. “Do you want something for your pain? I can tell your leg is bothering you.”

[Deleted]

Even with the anger evident on his face and the disheveled appearance he currently had, it was evident in Edward’s eyes that he was alert and focused. His ears picked up on the sound and pauses of the code that had been pressed into lock outside. His eyes had seen the straight posture and downward look of the man that had walked in. He smelled the expensive cologne, likely picked out by a spouse. His eyes shot downward and caught sight of the wedding ring. Yes, there was a wife. He hadn’t done research on Dr. Arkham because after all, he had never expected he would be locked up behind his walls. He would have gotten away with everything if the Batman hadn’t interfered. His jaw locked as he tried to push that thought away. If he was an Arkham and he was married, he likely had a few children. They always like to pass these types of things through the family.

On first glance and the tone in his voice, the man was arrogant and had a god complex issue that he played out by running the asylum. The handcuffs were removed, but Edward didn’t take any action to move his hands from where they were. He knew this game. The man was trying to befriend him, relate to him, but Edward wasn’t a fool. This was his asylum. If he didn’t like something, he could have easily made actions to change it. Since he hasn’t, he hardly doubted it really bothered the man. After all, he got to go home to his wife and children. He didn’t have to sleep on the hard mattress in below freezing temperatures.

The question rubbed him the wrong way, but he covered his annoyance with a smirk, folding his fingers into one another as he looked the older man in the eyes. How terrible it must be to have the youth chased away. “Either your staff is incapable of writing or you have trouble reading. I suspect incompetence on both sides, but I suppose since you feel the need to ask such a redundant question, I will grace you with an answer. As I told the nurse during the medical examine, I do not take pain medication, it blurs the mind and destroys the senses. I only would like my personal pain reliever back, which I noted multiple times is located in the apartment those brutes at the GCPD raided. It should be in their evidence locker. My request has been denied,” he said casually and slowly as if he were speaking to a moron.

“You would think that the owner of this asylum might keep up with the activities of what is occurring beneath his nose, or are you far too distracted by your personal life? Riddle me this, does your wife know your unfaithful?” he chuckled, and sat back in the chair. Based on how the wedding ring shifted and how a tan line was barely notable, it was easy to deduce that the man took it off often, and why would he feel the need to do that? He wasn’t in a hard labor profession. No, he took it off when he came across a pretty young thing.

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

No one could blame Edward for his anger nor that his appearance was less than put together. Fighting with the Batman and being caught red-handed during a crime was enough to fluster anyone and cause them to be furious. Jeremiah could also tell he was in pain and that of all the places that he could wish to be, here was not one of them. Still the doctor could see just how attentive he was. His gaze was sharp. Instantly Jeremiah wanted to question what his five senses had told him immediately.

Dr. Arkham was wearing cologne picked out by his wife of several years which was revealed by the silver wedding band around his ring finger. He also had children, Nathaniel and Isaiah. Arkham would be passed down to his eldest, Nathaniel upon his retirement or death whichever came first.

Yet what Jeremiah wasn’t here to do was to throw himself around. He hadn’t entered the session to be arrogant, and as for having a god complex? He’d taken up the asylum to continue his name and continue the mission his uncle had begun it with. He was here to find and treat the causes of mental illness in the society and in the recent years the number of people who had needed the services of his asylum had arisen. Oddly that had happened alongside Batman’s arrival and more and more visible appearance in Gotham. So when he’d released his hands? Yes, it was to build rapport. He also saw the cuffs as unnecessary in light of Edward’s broken arm. This wasn’t a game to Jeremiah. This was about him meeting a new inmate/patient. And he was bothered by his asylum, but that took funding, building plans, and movement of prisoners for holding. Such things took time.

Yet Jeremiah wasn’t here to answer questions he’d not been asked. He was here to talk and observe and for all Edward’s unique qualities, he was younger and rash. Jeremiah knew from report that he had a habit of trying to get under people’s skin, but that wasn’t exactly an original tactic in his line of work. Most patients were always trying to get under their doctors’ skins here. They felt violated, messed with, and as such he’d been under training for it. His years of experience also helped. Experience, a wife and children. Jeremiah hardly missed the days of his youth. There was nothing to miss. So he replied to Edward’s obvious smirk with a polite smile.

“I am very capable of reading what my staff has given me. Learning to read the chicken scratch of doctors did take a bit, however, when I first started. I’m very aware of what you told your admitting nurse,” he opened the folder and without looking pulled out the report and slid it to Edward, “I asked you if you would like something. Doesn’t have to be narcotic, doesn’t have to be something that messes with your head. Herbal remedies, homeopathic medicine…and yes, your pain reliever,” he nodded. “You could have just as easily said that and I would have told you just as simply that I’m working on getting that released from the police. They really don’t need it and are rather being stubborn.” If he noticed his tone, which he did, he didn’t react. “Rather irritating I agree.”

Jeremiah slid the paper back and actually chuckled at Edward’s words. “If I miss something pertaining to my staff, it is because I am treating patients and not simply running a business. Though that is interesting your question,” he mused. His eyes lifted to Edward’s. “That you jump to assuming I’m unfaithful.” He lifted his hand and watched as his ring moved. He could see the tanline as well. “However, it is an assumption and a wrong one, I’m afraid. I imagine you assume I take my ring off, often. Impressive and right. I do.” He slipped it off and placed it in his breast pocket. “For the benefit of keeping my private life private. I treat volatile, rash, and homicidal individuals who if they knew I had a wife…would place her in great danger. I’m keeping her safe, not keeping things from her.” He smiled at the memory of the woman he’d married. “I even imagine you’ve probably met her. She works here as well. That’s how we met. She also does not wear her ring during work. You just came in abruptly. I didn’t have time to take it off.”

[Deleted]

Have you ever had that itch in the middle of your back where it didn’t matter if you reached around, below, or under, you could never quite reach it? As Edward watched and listened to the man across from him, he felt that exact same feeling of frustration slow blanketing him in silent distaste.

His jaw locked ever so slightly before he finally moved out of his position and leaned back against the chair, crossing his now free arms across his chest. His eyes pulled away, taking the cameras. If he were to jump across the table and attempt to strangle the man, it would take less than thirty seconds for the guard to burst through the door and drag him back to his cell. He would have to make certain to hit a pressure point. It tempted him like a fine glass of wine. He turned back to the man in front of him.

“Brunette, short, sweet voice, and has a tendency to brush the stray strand of her hair back behind her ear?” he asked, as if he actually met and knew the very woman he was talking about. His eyes then ran up and down the man before him, taking in the poor unfashionable suit, the stiff posture, and scruff of a beard. “I have to admit, I am surprised you ever manage to trick a woman into being attracted to you? It must be for the money. Riddle me this, how much does the Asylum suck from the idiotic taxpayers?”

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

Have you ever pressed a person’s buttons, been aware, but not intentional in doing so, but you just couldn’t find yourself caring? Jeremiah saw the moment Edward’s jaw went stiff. He’d done nothing but point out that while brilliant and thought-out, Edward’s assumptions upon him had been wrong, or even they weren’t, he took them with a smile and nod. One needed suggestions to improve did they not? It wasn’t his fault that Edward’s attempts to find switch in Jeremiah were back-firing. Edward’s frustrations were his and his alone and he could deal with them.

There was no need for Jeremiah to shift in his seat. He had no need to stare at the cameras. And even if he wondered at Edward’s thoughts, he wouldn’t have acted concerned. In fact, it’d have amused him to know that Edward wanted to launch over the table and wrap his fingers around his neck. He wouldn’t be the first to want to; he’d not even be the first to try or the first to get over the table before he was stopped. Still it seemed the only one hitting pressure points was Jeremiah. The amusing part was, he wasn’t doing it on purpose. What he was doing was retaliating against an obvious attack against him. Everyone always blamed everyone else for their standing in life. People made their own choices to react as they did.

Jeremiah met Edward’s gaze when it returned to him. His face which had been neutral shifted into one of surprise. “How did you…how could you possibly have described,” he faltered a moment, “the majority of my female staff here.” He relaxed. “I will neither confirm or deny her hair color or mannerisms are those which you speak, but short? No, my wife is a beautiful leggy woman. I love her legs…I love a lot of her, in fact.” He leaned his chin into hand and smiled as he recalled just everything he loved about Melina. “I find myself amazed that out of any man she could have chosen, she ever said yes to me. I wake up every morning thankful to have her in my life.” He smiled at Edward. Melina had her own money, her nest egg. She hardly needed his. So he was unaffected by his assessment instead he straightened and he went into thought.

“I imagine my asylum has sucked about the same amount of money from our tax payers as your choices will. You know it’s their pockets the money will come from to fix the damage you caused to city property in your attempt to seek vengeance on those that you feel wronged or disrespected you.”

[Deleted]

Like most who found themselves on the criminal path, he had a poor childhood filled with violent abuse and a lack of appreciation. While he had successfully kept his past hidden from any prying eyes even before he stepped into his current career field of choice, it still was a fairly predictable classic case.

Edward had a talent of hiding it, hiding the slight unstableness of his personality, his eccentricity. It had been quite simple, especially when he had been dabbling in financial analyst and risk management work. He came into money at an early age, more than any average man ever came across in their entire life time. It made Edward even more confident in his pure genius and superiority to everyone around him. It also allowed him to flaunt his money around in such a way, that people blamed his emotional outburst on the fact that he was rich, possibly a trust fund child. Of course, his entire life came crashing down within a month. Stupidity. Other’s stupidity had ruined him, and he was expected to go back to his daily life where society favored the idiotic and punished the brilliance. No, Edward Nigma patience had cracked, and his temper had gotten shorter, and his mood swings more dramatic.

So as the pathetic pointless doctor across from him gave him a look of surprise, Edward actually found himself grinning, quite disappointed that the doctor hadn’t even provided a challenge. What did he expect though from staff of this Asylum? Anyone who sought out a job here or ran the place was missing quite a few brain cells.

However, the mocking tone appeared in the man across him, and Edward’s face flattened like a deflated balloon. His breathing became heavy, his jaw locked, and all he could think about were the fucking idiots who had ruined his life!!! His stupid asshole father, who was just jealous!! Beating the shit out of him as he called him stupid and mocked his answers, ripping apart his puzzle books!! His teachers in school professing absolute inaccurate lies to the class, and then expelling him when he proved them wrong!! Stupid Mitchell ignoring his warning on the recession!! Blaming him for insider trading!! Ruining his good name!! And kicking him to the curve!! The fucking retarded drunk driver getting into the car and forgetting what a freaking red light meant!! The doctor spewing nonsense about not being able to walk again!! The nurse misplacing paperwork!! He was surrounded by morons! By absolute fucking morons! This world bread them like rats that needed to be exterminated and put out. And now this idiot whose claim to fame is restarting his family’s asylum has the fucking gal to talk to him this way!

He slammed his good fist onto the table in anger, his entire face tightening before he sucked in a deep breath. “If you had any slight sign of a brain in that poor style of a haircut, you would know that all of my riddles took place on private property, some my own, so if you would like to be accurate in cost, I have technically caused no harm to the tax payer, accept for them forcing me to this horrendous living condition environment,” his voice was low and dark, his eyes narrowed. If he had his gun, he would have already shot this man.

“Now, if you please, silence would be more preferred then listening to your idiotic rambling,” he said, closing his eyes and started to count backwards from a thousand to get the pain of his leg under control.

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

Did Edward expect him to snap? Jeremiah simply leaned back and gave a sigh. “I’d rather not hear your idiotic dribble either,” he said casually. “As if I can’t see exactly what you’re doing, but here I am enduring it.” He lowered his head to take in the younger man at the table. “If I recall correctly, I came in here with nothing but manners, and it was you who struck the first match. You’ve been mocking me since I walked in. You know it and so do I, and let me guess, you think you’re the first to do it?” He gave a fond smile. “Mr. Nigma, I have the unfortunate job of informing you that you’re not original. Your anger and contempt? The fact that I spoke nothing but civilly to you until began this little charade? And here I’m not even flustered by it.”

He crossed one leg easily over the other, “Yet you’re angry at me. Is it because I’m not getting angry back? Not feeding into your obvious hate of anyone but you. Getting them to loathe you makes it easier to feel justified doesn’t it? You can have a reason for the vitriol and rage inside you. Do you know why I’m not angry with you, Edward despite all your attempts to get under my skin as you do with everyone else?” Jeremiah shook his head, “No, I doubt you want to admit it, but you do know. You know everything…keep it all that exquisite mind of yours.”

Jeremiah sat up and then stood. “I’m not angry because you’re just an angry boy in men’s clothing. You’re angry at the world. You blame everything and everyone because of your own inability to cope with its harshness. The world is cruel and sometimes some of use see that more bluntly than most. We feel every single slap and kick. You’re considered a genius, Edward, but you just can’t cope with harsh reality. I’ve seen this before—your rage and petulance.” He propped his hand on the corner of the table and leaned down to Edward. “It usually begins to build young because no one saved the child from a hellish childhood. A childhood rife with some sort of abuse. So tell me, it was your father wasn’t it? I know it’s not your mother because you don’t have any problem with women. You demonstrated that in how you spoke to me about my wife. You described the female’s actions as flirtatious, but me? I’m a man and an authority who is challenging you.” He gave a subtle tilt of his head.

“So was your father kind to you at any point, or do you only remember abuse?”

Because Jeremiah wasn’t going to be silent. He could have chosen to be, but he’d waved that option away. He wasn’t any of those morons Edward hated. He was an stand-in. Every single one of them had been stand-ins for the original abuser. Edward could call that anger, but that abuser wasn’t Jeremiah and he wasn’t going to stand for it.

If Edward wanted to hate him, he’d make it personal. Jeremiah Arkham wasn’t anyone’s scapegoat.

[Deleted]

He had that high pitch condescending type of voice that could make a sleeping baby start to cry. It would have been fine, if taken in small doses, but Edward was learning quickly that this man rarely shut up, and felt the need to lecture even when no one in the class was listening. His lecture was full of justifications, happily to put the blame on Edward rather looking inwardly at himself. It wasn’t unusual. All humans were self-centered, it was one of the reasons Edward never felt guilty for thinking only about himself in this world. No one else would think of his benefits. He needed to look out for himself.

He hated the man putting words into his mouth, as if he knew who he was dealing with. The man was so beneath him, like an ant about to burned by a magnifying glass. He had no idea who he was talking too, but he would learn. They all would learn. His jaw stayed locked, and his eyes were narrowed, but he watched his movements carefully, far more carefully than listening to his lies that kept spewing from his lips like vomit. He was moving. He standing and coming to his side, a poor attempt to show Edward he was in control. If anything, it showed his weakness. It showed he couldn’t express his power unless he had the height advantage. He let him walk to his side. He felt his presence near him. God, this man was a fool. He would have outright laughed, if he hadn’t have decided to mention his father.

His chest burned with hatred. He wanted to pound the man’s face in for even mentioning his past, for even thinking he had the importance to touch upon it, but after years of trying to repress that memory, the beatings, the broken bones, and finally how he hit his father’s head into the concrete until blood spewed all over it, his face stayed emotionless. He wouldn’t have been able to get pass the police questioning during that period of his life, if he wasn’t able to keep a lid on that burning rage. Oh, he certainly was mad, but it rolled off him in silence.

He let out a half laugh. “Riddle me this, which path did the crazy man take out of the woods?” he asked with a smirk teasing on his lips, as he turned his body partially towards him, to make certain their eyes were locked.

He didn’t give the good old doctor time to respond. He kicked him hard in the crotch, even with his bad leg, it was worth it. His hand swiping the handcuffs off the table in the same moment, grabbing Arkham's wrist, ripping it back and locking it on and to the unmovable metal table leg. He ripped off Arkham’s ID, dipping his fingers into his pocket to pull out the man’s phone.

He grabbed the man’s chin and ripped it up so they were once again locking eyes. Edward had a grin playing on his face, “You should be smarter than to talk about someone’s past before you’ve gotten to know them, but then again, all doctors are idiots,” he patted the man’s face roughly with his hand, almost like a light slap before he stood and limped over to the door, getting online from the man’s phone to get into the security system. He pulled the chair from the table with his broken arm, and stuck it underneath the door knob of the door to prevent any orderlies from entering the room with Arkham and himself.

Oh the benefits to being “young” as Arkham felt the need to put it. People stupidly underestimated him, and they would learn the price.

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

Handcuffed to the leg of a table, the area between his legs throbbing, the thing that hurt the most was Jeremiah’s pride. He was arrogant. He’ll admit that. Jeremiah was bloody arrogant and that lead him to acts of shortsight. He wasn’t foolish, though. A foolish man would be crippled in pain, but Jeremiah was motivated by something high and above the fact that Edward decided he was going to hit low.

Besides, he could play dirty too.

You’d think a man in Jeremiah’s position would be exuding loathing towards the younger man who had just swiped his phone and his badge, but no. Jeremiah was smiling. It was pained of course, any man’s would be, but it was still a grin. A grin because when handcuffing someone, you should always get both hands. This wasn’t the first time he’d been handcuffed by a patient, of course the last one had grabbed them from his waist. He’d learned to carry and extra set of keys and they’re easily enough reached. He doesn’t care for Edward’s blabbering.

Blah, blah, you’re an idiot and I’m not because my IQ quotient is something you’d never reach yourself. Blah, blah…Stupid old man…blah!

Really that was what he heard and it was mind numbingly dull.

His hand was free. Jeremiah got to his feet and picked up the chair he had once been sitting in. Oh no, he’d not underestimated Edward. He’d overestimated him.

He’d thought he’d be smarter than to think this was his first rodeo.

He swung the chair at Edward’s bad leg and snatched his broken arm. Without pause he was again in possession of his ID and phone. He powered it off, pocketed it, and then took another swing at Edward, this time aiming for his head.

[Deleted]

Arkham Asylum security systems was extremely outdated, as if the people were still running an Apple Program before Steve Jobs came back to Apple and made it a success. Idiots. They all were idiots. How did people survive in this world when they lacked such basic human intelligence? He broke pass the poor excuse for a firewall in seconds and then with a quick click, the a loud beeping sound echoed through the entire asylum as every door within the building unlocked.

He hadn’t been paying attention to the doctor, nor did he care too. The man had decided to bring up something that was none of his business. It was disrespectful, and people who disrespected Edward deserved to lick the ground he walked on. He had assumed the man was still handcuffed, so when a sharp pain hit his leg completely, he let out a painful scream, collapsing to the ground, and reaching for his leg. His felt unbelievable pain in his leg daily, but had learned to distract his mind from the pain by focusing on puzzles. It was hard to distract your mind, when someone draws your attention back to it with more pain. It felt like a damn had just burst out and all his nerves were sent to light speed. He could barely breath or focus, not even noticing as his broken arm was grabbed. The pain from his arm hardly compared to this horrendous feeling. His eyes widened looking at him a daze as the phone and card key was grabbed.

He curled into a ball, holding his leg, trying to breath. A second pain hit his head, and his mind was drawn to the pounding headache. He took in deep breaths. Focus. Focus. Focus. He said with the alarm sounds that seemed to get louder. What was that noise? Focus on the noise. Focus. Nigma, focus!

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

What doesn’t matter to a hacker? A computer genius of the likes Jeremiah knew Edward was? His security system. It was state of the art, created by Wayne Enterprises, but of course that meant nothing to Nigma. To him, it might as well have been outdated, but Jeremiah didn’t care. He heard the release of the cells, the alarms going off, but that minor to the damage that could have been done had he allowed Edward to keep the phone any longer.

So he did what he had to. And if it was considered playing dirty he didn’t care. When all that was done, he snatched Edward again by his injured arm and drug him across the room. He drug him right back to his chair and threw him into it. He cuffed his arms to the chair’s arms and his damaged leg to the leg. He didn’t even give Edward a concerning glance to be sure he was fine. He just kept his eyes on him as moved back to his own seat and took up his walkie talkie.

“Jeremiah Arkham to Command One, does anyone read me, over?”

“Yeah, we got you doctor, have you seen—”

“Lockdown the asylum. I want snipers in their towers. I want the doors capable of it, electrified. Turn on the floors too,” he took a breath and he stared right through Edward. “And someone...bring me my shotgun.”

He placed the radio back at his waist and grinned. “Wonderful job, Edward, opening all the cell doors. Now the animals will congregate and make it easy to tranquilize them. Electrocute them into paralysis. Some might escape, but that’s the statistics this sort of thing has predicted.” He shrugged before he leaned across the table.

“And thanks for testing the system. I’ll let Bruce Wayne know personally what a piece of shit it is.”

[Deleted]

His vision blurred with the pain, the room spinning as he felt the digging against his bones as if the devil had crawled up from the floor to drag him down to hell. Ever since the accident, his leg always hurt, always. He had learned to divert his attention away from the pain, but having more pain added to his continuous pain was unbearable. What type of fucking doctor physically hurts their patients?! God, he would talk to the courts about this!

He didn’t even notice him dragging him. The pain in his arm barely felt like a pinch compared to what he currently felt. He needed to focus on something. He needed a list.

Andromeda
Antlia
Apus
Aquarius
Aquila
Ara
Aries
Auriga
Bootes
Caelum
Camelopardalis

He started listing all the constellations in alphabetical order ignoring the screaming pain.

It started to dull as he reached the end of the list and the room came back into view. The doctor, if you could him a doctor, shouting into a radio. The chair. His arm handcuffed. His leg handcuffed. Great…fucking great. There went his escape plan, though he could hardly blame himself. He had only come up with the plan three minutes ago. He would find another way out. There were far too many flaws, and he had already been working through a few other plans.

Arkham turned his attention back to him, playing apathetic to the entire fiasco. Idiot.

“I’m certain the taxpayers would love to hear your indifference. You run such a stable facility here,” he rolled his eyes.

At the mention of Wayne, he almost laughed. “No wonder I had thought a child had set it up,” he shifted in his chair, “Are we finish with this session? I would prefer to go back to my cell then to look at your face.”

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

Jeremiah didn’t even look bothered at Edward’s vitriol at his handling of the situation. He simply slid his radio back into his pocket and not for the last time ignored Edward. It was the beginning of preset mean in their interaction. Jeremiah didn’t care for Edward’s option because there was no respect and the same he imagined would be true for him.

He was just being a realist. And if that was how he’d have to contain them, then that was how he’d have to contain him.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and waved the orderlies to take care of returning Edward to his room.

“Hey there, sweetheart…is everything okay there,” he asked and his voice genuinely filled with worry. “Oh thank god. Yeah, everything will be fine. You just lock yourself in and stay safe.”