Batman Begins/Dark Knight 1. Too Many Nerds

**I wanted a change from my sequel so i started writing this riddler story, it will start them off at high school but go on to the events of batman begins. It migth take me a while to update because i'm focusing more on the Alice turns violent sequel so don't be mad if i don't update as quickly as usual.**

**DISCLAIMER: i do not own any of the characters except my OC's all the rest belong to DC comics or their rightful owners.**

**Okay i'm going to try something new as i've read many fanfics that do this and i always like those ones, though there are fanfics that do do this and there still amazing but i just like this idea and wanted to try it.**

**Now on with the chapter!**

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_Why do you look so familiar?_

_I could swear that i, have seen your face before_

_i think that i like that you seem sincere_

_I think i'd like to get to know you a little bit more_

_I think there's something more_

_Aviril Lavigne - Who knows_

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Why did I take psychology? I never understood it; to me psychology was for the sad and lonely. I guess that's why Creepy Crane liked it so much, the ultimate nerd. My eyes quickly glanced in his direction and saw him scribbling down more unneeded notes, I mean seriously, who does that! That wasn't the only reason Creepy Crane was creepy, hell no, another reason was because of his eyes. The only way I could describe his eyes were that they were electrified, the brightest blue I have ever known and his only good features. What ruined those dazzling eyes was that he used them to analyse _every_ person that came into his eyesight, I unfortunately had to be analysed numerous times, as he was my psychology partner. For you see, our teacher Dr Young thought it was best to work in pairs as psychology was used to understand the human mind and a person's body language. I hated her, she hated me, perfect teacher / student relationship, which was until she decided Creepy Crane, and I should work together. I risked another glance at Crane and saw his electric eyes were buried in a textbook, his steel glasses kept falling off his long nose and a pale hand was always pushing them back up. Yes, he was the ultimate nerd and had people issues, when I say people, I mean everyone who he finds stupid. If you haven't guessed already, I am one of those people. I really hate the stereotypic nerd, I'm not stupid I just don't understand psychology, it's not my fault I haven't got an IQ of two billion as I'm sure Creepy Crane has.

I draw my attention back to Dr Young's boring tone and half listen to her explanation of ADHD, I would say I was interested but I've heard about ADHD my whole uneventful life. I suffer from ADHD, it's not as bad as people think, mine is a minor case but if I'm nervous or angry then it shows. There is an explanation for my ADHD but it's too complicated and personal, not even my teachers know why and their supposed to know everything about their students, the nosy barstards and bitches. I'm not a people person which is the only thing Creepy Crane and I relate to, we both would rather be alone then talk to ignorant so and so's. Don't get me wrong, I like having friends around me but I never want to be centre of attention and most of my friends understand that. When I say _most_ of my friends, I mean one out of two, Adrian Banner knows that I hate going to gatherings and will stay with me if my other friend Anna Richards goes to a party. Before you get any ideas let me get one thing straight, I do not have a crush on Adrian._ He _did have a crush on _me_ during middle school but got over it pretty quickly and we've been friends ever since, Anna however, only became friends with me to be closer to Adrian. Apparently gothic kids that _always_ wear black are her type, I don't know why. Anna is your typical squealing girl; she hates spiders and sprays them with hairspray so they stick helplessly to the wall. She always wears skirts that are excessively short and flicks her blonde hair when she flirts with a guy, I still wonder how I've put up with her this long. Adrian as far as I know isn't interested but that won't stop Anna, she always gets what she wants in the end.

I've never had a crush, ok that is a total lie but I've only ever had one. Our middle school English teacher Mr Stiller was my only crush, it only lasted for a term then I lost my interest. He was one of those stern but fair teachers and could handle any student, even managed to keep up with Joker the jester and always had a brilliant comeback. Joker isn't his real name from what I've heard, but if it was I would defiantly divorce my parents if they even thought of calling me that, Joker is the like the popular freak and there are so few of his kind. Saying that, I don't think there is anyone like him, he's just… a different breed is the best way to describe him. There are plenty of weirdo's in Gotham High, I swear Gotham was made to house the weirdo's and leave them to fight amongst themselves. Everyone in Gotham High has something wrong with them, even Anna has dyslexia and she's one of the popular crowd. Gotham High isn't split into groups like St Trinians but is just as feisty, basically the school is a mix up of freaks, weirdo's, fairly normal and completely bonkers. I would say I was in the fairly normal category, Anna and Adrian would join me. Joker and Harleen Quinzel would fit in the completely bonkers category, Pamela Isley would be in freaks joined by Victor Zsasz, Oswald Cobblepot, Victor Fries and Bane. Creepy Crane would be in two categories and maybe even the last one, there is one other person which I would have to put in the weirdo category. Edward Nigma, Nigma is one of those kids that is constantly picked on and being called queer either in front of their face or behind their back. He isn't exactly a freak and is probably one of the few that are fairly normal except, he has an obsession with puzzles and riddles. When I mean obsession I don't mean someone who does the crossword at the back of the paper every day, I mean he _always_ has some type of puzzle with him. I do feel sorry for the nerd sometimes but I'm not risking my not so good reputation for a nerd, I'd rather have a conversation about fear with Creepy Crane.

'Miss Tyler'

_Oh, this can't be good, she's using her perky tone. I'm in deep shit, I might as well hang myself._

'Yes Dr Young?'

'What are the main symptoms of ADHD?'

_Thank god, maybe having ADHD was a good thing after all._

'Symptoms of ADHD are inattentiveness, hyperactivity and impulsiveness.'

'Very good Miss Tyler, but please at least try to pay attention more, I know it's hard for you in particular.' Her smile is stern and it was forced, typical for Dr Young. I lean back in my chair and watch her write complicated explanations on the chalkboard, she knows I hate psychology and asks me questions like that every bloody lesson plus when I'm not ready for it either. Crane stares at me then scoffs at my lazy attitude, asshole is all I have to say about him. He goes back to his intensive listening and doesn't recognise my existence until we have to work in partners for the remainder of the lesson, he turns his body to the side and rests a hand on his chin, a finger is placed just below is nose. Let the analysing begin, I ignore his long gaze and begin writing the answers to the questions on the board, and only one that I understand the rest go over my head. I'm not even contemplating asking Creepy Crane for help, we would both rather watch the other being boiled in acid. Dr Young keeps her hawk eyes on us and gives me in particular a raised eyebrow; of course, she takes Crane's side, her top student. I give her pleading eyes but she just keeps that one eyebrow raised as if she's saying 'just get on with the work or I give you a detention' I give her my best death glare then return to not understanding the questions.

'Look, I hate you just as much as you hate me. The sooner we get this done the quicker we can go back to not speaking to each other, that is what you want isn't it?'

I didn't except to hear his chilling voice and I drop my pen and embarrassingly bang my left leg on the wooden desk, I don't answer as I'm trying to hold back a lot of swear words that want to spill onto my tongue. He wears a tight smirk on his intelligent face and all I want to do is punch that smirk off, I bite my tongue and reach for my fallen pen, only to have it snatched out of my reach by the nerd. He places it on his desk and stares at me with those damn analysing eyes, he doesn't say a word and I grab my bag to find another pen. Of all the times to lose all my other pens it has to be now, I frustratingly drop my bag next to my chair and stare straight ahead, a finger taping the wooden desk as fast as lightening.

'Interesting… you would rather get a detention then work with me, very interesting.' I can feel his eyes watching my skull and I am so close to blurting out all the stuff that is echoing in my head. My finger taps faster, I feel sorry for the old desk, Dr Young huffs in annoyance, and I force myself to wear the sweetest smile in the world and turn to Crane. He looks uncomfortable with my sudden change in attitude and actually _blinks_.

'Please can I have my pen back, _Jonathan_?' He turns even paler as I use his first name, it feels foreign on my tongue, and he turns his body so it's straight again and passes/throws my pen at me. I don't bother to say thank you, that is going a step too far, even saying please to the nerd makes me want to wash my mouth out fifty times. The bell goes and I silently thank god as I leave for the cafeteria, I need chocolate, I need it now.

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I sit at the table farthest from anyone else, it's right in the corner next to the double doors that lead to the classrooms. A chocolate milkshake carton, tomatoe and ham sandwiches and a large red apple is my lunch, though I've not even touched the sandwiches. I finished the milkshake in seconds and play with the apple by rolling it along the table, not very hygienic but at the present moment I'm pissed off and don't give a damn. I wait for Adrian and Anna who still haven't made the presences known yet, I hope they're not skiving today or I might just join the completely bonkers category. To my relief Adrian shuffles over with a plate of casserole and mash, I feel queasy just looking at it. He sits opposite me and drops his plate, he stares at my rolling apple and I watch his eyes as they follow it across the table. I can see he's close to cracking and put the apple to my mouth, a hand grabs the apple and throws it in the bin that is just over my shoulder, it misses completely but neither of us bother to pick it up, Adrian has a severe case of OCD. He even wipes the table with a defective wipe to make sure there are no germs near him; I did say Gotham High was full of strange people.

'You know how much I hate that.' He mumbles as he pokes the casserole like it's going to jump up onto his face, I roll my eyes.

'I know you hate it, that's why I do it.' A smirk appears on his face, the closest thing to a smile. Adrian lowers his head to look at his poor excuse of food, his black hair covering his eyeliner eyes. You could tell he was a Goth from a mile away, his black hoodie with a red shirt hidden underneath and his heavy black boots that echoed through the corridors. I couldn't even tell that he had a crush on me until he wrote a card for me on Valentine's day, the black card with a blood red heart was the giveaway. The heart was meant to be a grenade and a hand was holding on to it, the heart was from one of his many CD's, a band called Green Day. I'm not sure whether I don't think anyone would fancy me or because he always looked solemn when he saw me was the reason why I didn't know. He understands that I don't want a relationship but sometimes I think he still does have a crush on me, I can never tell.

'You're still not touching the cafeteria's food then?' His eyes don't leave the casserole as he speaks and it's hard to hear is small voice, I stare at his food and the queasiness returns with a vengeance.

'I'm not going near that stuff, not since I had food poising for a month. All I did was eat that one sausage as well, I still don't know why you eat that crap.' He shrugs then chews slowly; I turn away at this point and keep an eye out for Anna. My eyes rest on a group of seniors towering over a thin form, I sigh as I recognise the ginger hair. Edward Nigma, the puzzling boy. The seniors are trying to push him into a trashcan, at the moment they are just cornering him and I can't keep my eyes away from his petrified face. His tray of food is shaking in his quivering hands and his eyes are two giant pools of emerald fear, I can't see his eyes from this distance but I know their emerald. I almost feel like jumping out of my seat and helping him, but I can't let my reputation be ruined by helping a freak, my subconscious just asks one question. What reputation? Adrian notices my unnatural quietness and follows my gaze; he sighs then returns to his rubber casserole.

'Don't get involved, you know what happened last time… you know what happened with me.' I freeze in my chair for a millisecond then go back to tapping the table; I know how much he hates bringing that up. At the start Adrian was one of those weird kids and was picked on a lot in middle school, I got involved; I got pushed into the weirdo category. Adrian did thank me for helping him and we were friends after that, well, that's before the crush began. Middle school became hell; I got bullied every day and was called names. Then Anna turned up and she helped me and Adrian become fairly normal, we have a lot to thank her for. If Anna hadn't become friends with us, more likely we would still be in the weirdo category and be pushed around like Nigma was now. The thought about Nigma made me come back to reality, the seniors had him centimetres away from the trashcan, and I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable crash. Sure enough not two seconds later Nigma's form disappeared inside the trashcan, the seniors laughed and high fived each other.

'Don't go and help him, Sylvia Tyler you will not get involved.'

'You know that mind control crap isn't real.'

'It was worth a try, Sy it won't make a difference so just leave it.'

'What about if I had just left it with you, would you be sitting here now or would you be in a trashcan as well?' My tone was sharp, Adrian didn't answer and didn't even look up when I edged myself out of my seat and walked over to the trashcan. I could feel eyes watching me from every direction but walked with purpose, I could hear Nigma squirming inside the trashcan, he stopped when he heard my footsteps and when I tapped his green streaked sneakers.

'I gave you my lunch money what more do you want?' His voice is shallow like he's about to cry, I sigh and look over my shoulder; Adrian is watching me and motions me to come back. I give him a glare and he puts a hand to his face, he drops his hand and looks at me with his earthy eyes. I keep my glare until he stomps towards me with his hands in his pockets, he stares at the floor and won't look at me. He doesn't want to be bullied again, I understand that but I can't let this kid in particular suffer the same way we did.

'We're not those idiots, we wondered if you wanted some help.' Adrian huffs and I kick his shin, the trashcan is still silent and I know Nigma is contemplating whether he wants us to help.

'If you wouldn't mind then yes, I could use some help.' His voice is still shallow but it sounds hopeful, I look at Adrian, he grabs one of Nigma's legs and I grab the other. I can feel Nigma's leg stiffen beneath my palms and I know how strange it is for someone to touch him, gently.

'Ok, we'll pull you out on the count of three. One…two…three!' Adrian and me grunt and pull backwards, the trashcan rolls on its side, Nigma falls on the floor, a hurricane of laughter echoes around us, I can feel Adrian begin to radiate with embarrassment. Nigma stands and brushes off bits of food that have stuck to his green button shirt; his ginger hair has flakes of half-chewed food. Once he's done making himself slightly more presentable he looks up to thank us then stares at me with horror, I knew this would happen. He glances around nervously, avoiding my eyes as much as possible.

'Oh, it's erm you, your my father's boss's-'

'Daughter…yeah, I thought I would cut you some slack. This is Adri-' I turn to Adrian who isn't there, I look at the table and see him eating his mash.

_That coward_

'Sorry about Adrian, he had a tough time in middle school.'

'Who didn't, I mean, everyone at middle school had some sort of predicament.' His voice cracks at the word predicament and his cheeks burn red, I try not to laugh for his sake and pretend I didn't hear it. I stare at Adrian who still has his back to me, Anna is sitting at the table, she's giving me the evil eye and points a finger down to the seat next to her.

'I've gotta go, if those jerks annoy you again tell me and I'll sort them out. See you around then Edward.' Just before I can realise what I've said I see his face light up into a smile, what the hell have I done? I turn and shuffle back to the table and see Anna's arms crossed, I'm in deep shit, twice today. I sit down next to her and wait for the question that I don't want to answer, she flips her blonde hair over her shoulder and creases a blonde eyebrow.

'What was that about?' I look to Adrian who eats slowly, hair covering his eyes, if he only knew the look I was giving him. I cross and uncross my legs under the table and tap my finger on the blue plastic, damn my ADHD.

'Some seniors shoved him in the trashcan and I went to help him, big deal.' Anna scoffs and slams the table, my finger stops tapping.

'Big deal! That freak is one of the mega freaks gang, he's worse than Creepy Crane! It was bad enough you helping poor Adrian here back in middle school, no offense.' Adrian shrugs and continues to bow his head; he has learnt not to interfere in girl's confrontations, if only I had taught him not to pick sides, which would be useful at this point.

'None taken, Anna's right Sy, you shouldn't have got involved. It may not seem bad now but wait till he talks to you at school, then the bullying begins. What was that about his dad anyway?' If looks could kill, Adrian would be six feet under. I didn't want that going public, anything but that, my reasons for ADHD I would rather go public. My feet shuffle on their own accord, Anna is glaring at me with her grey eyes and I want to hide behind my red hair like the way Adrian does.

'What does he mean by 'what was that about his dad anyway' Sy?'

_Shoot me now, wrap a noose around my neck, and kill me please. I don't deserve this do I?_

'Well, what does he mean?'

'My dad is Nigma's boss that's all, he works at the garage. That's the only reason how he knows me, we've kinda known each other since we were ten. My dad and his are friends, I don't like Nigma, but I couldn't let him go through what me and Adrian went through. He goes through enough at home…oh shit.' I lower my head and yell stupid inwardly, I shouldn't have said that last part, even I'm not supposed to know that part. Adrian finally looks up and stares at me with a creased brow, Anna wears the same expression except a milk coloured hand is pressed over her mouth. I frantically think of something to counter the sentence but nothing comes to mind, I rest my elbows on the table and hide my face from the world.

'Please don't say anything to anyone, just forget I said anything.' My voice is muffled in my hands but both of them understand what I'm saying.

'Only if you tell us what you mean by 'he goes through enough at home'.' Anna's voice is high in pitch and rings in my ears, I can't tell them or my dad will kill me, let alone Nigma's dad.

'I… can't, even I'm not supposed to know, please don't say anything to him Anna. I know he won't come to school if he knows I told you, and trust me, that would be much worse.'

_Stop talking!_

I pull my face out of the abyss of darkness and rest my pleading eyes on Anna's confused ones, she sighs then nods an agreement, meanwhile Adrian just shrugs for his. I smile at both of them, knowing I chose wisely when becoming friends with them, my attention rests on a boy whose emerald eyes are staring at me. Edward is still standing near the trashcan I fished him out of; I give him a smile and watch as he sprints towards the classrooms. What the hell have I just done?

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**Well? Do you like it? review if you want this story to be continued so i can prepare for another chapter if i need to, haven't really done a riddler story before so it's all new, please review!**


	2. Secrets

**whoo chapter two! Thanks to Arkham's angel for the lovely review as you always do, didn't really mean to right so much drama but hey, if it works. Gonna be more drama in this chapter, not used to writing it so sorry if it's 'slushy', hope you like this chapter as it has little hints here and there, oh they shouldn't be too hard to find as i'm rubbish at mystery.**

**DISCLAIMER: *SIGHS* I do not own any of the characters except my OC's all the rest belong to DC Comics or their rightful owners blahblahblah you know the rest.**

**With that done, on with the chapter!**

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_But since u been gone_

_I can breathe for the first time_

_I'm so moving on, yeah, yeah_

_Thanks to you, now i get, what i want_

_Since u been gone..._

_Kelly Clarkson - Since u been gone_

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I was out those glass doors before Adrian could stop me, the bright sunlight made me cover my eyes with a fair hand. The rumble of many running feet was just behind me and I managed to jump down the concrete steps before I was bombarded by a hundred students. I waited by the lonely birch tree that was placed by the side of the steps, knowing full well that Adrian would be hiding under his hoodie, he never did like sunlight. Sure enough, as the last few students exited the dreaded building his shuffling form headed towards the tree. He looked up the best he could and gave me a death glare; his hair covered his eyes so to me it was just humorous. I fought back the urge to make a twilight joke as I saw his pale skin hide once more under his hood. Anna wouldn't be giving us a ride back home today, her mother was ill and as Anna was the only other person in the house she had to get home quickly. That meant I would have to walk Adrian home, he unfortunately lived in the notorious Narrows. I never liked the idea of him walking alone; I always had visions of his crumpled body in a gutter with a gunshot wound in his forehead, dark blood gushing from the wound and down his pale face. He always tries to protest whenever I walk him home but his mumbles don't get very far, I'm stubborn when I want to be and he knows it.

I playfully try to pull his hood down but he just slaps my hand away, I pouted and he just gave me another glare. We began our long trek towards the Narrows, most of the cars were gone by now but a few remained, clearly waiting for the initial panic to subside. I watched the remaining cars pass through the metal gates, one in particular caught my sensitive eyes, Creepy Crane was driving a rusty old pickup truck. I couldn't quite believe my eyes, Creepy Crane, the nerd, was driving a pickup truck. We were about to pass through the gates when Crane's pickup came to life and rushed through the gates, I managed to grab Adrian's shoulder before he was squashed under the pickup's giant wheels. I could just imagine Crane smirking inside the pickup and I put my middle finger up so he could see it in his rear view mirror. The pickup's rattling became fainter as it sped away; we crossed the road and walked towards the bridge to the Narrows.

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The bridge was a tired old thing and had seen many accidents in its time, most being caused by drunk driving. Cars passed over this bridge, Adrian calls it the bridge to suffering as so many people suffer in the Narrows, it has gotten worse over the years and murder is a daily occurrence. I have tried to convince Adrian to tell his father to move to the upper classes of Gotham but he won't listen, he says it costs too much. We descend into a narrow tunnel next to the bridge; graffiti covers the once grey walls and what looks like bloodstains drip to the concrete flooring. Adrian stops briefly outside the tunnel then appears next to me again, he hates this tunnel and so do I.

'I'll be fine from here, you better get home or your dad'll go mad.' There is a slight frenzy in his tone but he looks as plain as ever, I look down the tunnel then say a quick goodbye. I give him a small hug that makes him stand stiffly, defiantly a Goth. I turn and jog out of the disgusting tunnel, I greet the daylight with a smirk and head back the way we came.

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I exit The Narrows as briskly as I can and head towards the cleaner part of Gotham. It isn't long before I'm ten blocks away from the apartment and I pass my dad's garage, he fixes cars for a lot of people, once he told me he fixed Thomas Wayne's Rolls-Royce but that was some years ago now. I quickly look inside and see the person I didn't want to meet, Timothy Nashton, Edward's father. I walk in and open my mouth to speak then think against it, I'm already late and by the sight that I see Mr Nashton isn't in a talkative mood. He sits at my father's disorganized desk, empty vodka bottles littered around him and one placed in his hairy hand. His back is facing me and I can smell his body odour from where I'm standing, I tiptoe backs as he jugs the vodka down. I'm so close to the door that I can feel the cool breeze of the September air, I could touch the door handle with my fingers tips. A spanner crashes to the floor and Mr Nashton's bloodshot eyes rest on me, a malicious smirk plastered on his face. He looks me up and down with craving eyes, I feel my whole body shake as he steps towards me; his vodka bottle is still in his grimy hand.

'I didn't expect to see your pretty face in here, why would such a beautiful girl like yerself want to see an old man like me?' His words are slurred and he sways drunkenly as he creeps towards me, I can tell he's completely intoxicated and I don't want to be here a second longer. I feel for the door handle and force a smile onto my face, his brown eyes light up at the sight; I feel nauseas.

'I just came to see if Edward was in here Mr Nashton, he had a tough day and I wanted to cheer him up. I better be going or my dad will worry about me, see you some other time.'

'See ya soon I think.' I open the door, sprint out of the garage, and don't stop until I'm in the alleyway leading to the apartment. I lean against the wall and force murky air into my lungs, my eyes closed I imagine my mother smiling at me and immediately feel better. I felt the wetness of tears run down my face; I slide down the wall and begin to make my breathing level out. That man had hurt so many people, he had brainwashed my dad so many times, and he hurt Edward so many times and still does. Even though I haven't spoken to him properly for some time I know that Mr Nashton still has his mood swings and that was enough to make me think he still abuses Edward. That poor excuse for a man would get what he deserved eventually, it couldn't come sooner. I pull myself up and wipe the tears away, a familiar green button shirt passes the alleyway and soon I'm out the alleyway sprinting towards him.

'Edward wait up!' He freezes and waits for me to appear behind him before he turns around, he shifts on his heels and stairs at the ground, why is it everyone I know does that?

'Oh, hello, what is it now?' He sounds as hollow as he looks; food is still stuck in his mangled hair. I give him a once over and notice a bruise on his cheek and on his wrist, my theory was right. Edward squeezes his arm and looks up to meet my eyes, he smiles weakly then he frowns.

'Have you been crying?' I feel my throat dry up, I must have red marks under my eyes as Edward stares at me in concern. It's weird to be this close to him again, the last time was when we were twelve and how long ago that was. I smile as best I can and watch as his concern falters, he becomes his nervous self again.

'No I just, feel tired that's all. It's been a long day, I just wanted to warn you that your dad has been drinking again.' His childish face becomes pale at his father being mentioned, his eyes light up with fear and the emerald shines even brighter. I want to tell him he's going to be alright, that everything will be fine, but I can't bring myself to lie to him. My reputation at school doesn't matter now, or the fact I haven't been friends with Edward since the beginning of middle school, all that matters is me protecting Edward from another beating.

'If you want, you can stay at my place for tonight. My dad won't mind, truth be told I think he misses me hanging out with you.'

'Why do you care?' The comforting smile fades from my face and is replaced with a confused stare.

'What?'

'Why do you care? You didn't care before, why do you care now? You ignored me when we began middle school and today was the first time you even acknowledged me in years. Why is it suddenly your top priority to help me, I didn't even ask for your help. Sylvia, I will come with you if you answer this riddle correctly.' I stare at his face and notice the stern look he gives me, a shiver went down my spine when he mentioned my name but I don't know why. I nod to take his challenge, he closes his eyes before he speaks and I see the scared little boy from preschool.

'I've been trying to figure out this riddle since you helped me at lunch, so far I haven't been able to solve it. Riddle me this Sylvia Tyler… Why do you care?' I stare at him blankly, the preschool boy is gone and an adult obsessive man takes his place. The sorrow in his eyes are too much and I have to close my own, a hand whispers against my wrist and I can feel the tiny hairs tickle against my skin. I open my eyes and see Edward is still standing in front of me, he knows I can't tell him why, he knows I can't solve his riddle. His eyes skim to his hand that rests next to my own, I want to grab it and tell him everything but I can't go through it again. I move my hand away and let my other hand rub my wrist because I'm feeling too nervous. His eyes watch the action and I can see the cogs turning in his brilliant mind, he's figured out part of the riddle.

'You didn't have ADHD when we were younger, you were never this nervous around me either. It was something that happened in middle school wasn't it? Did I do something or was it someone else? Sylvia, please tell me who made you like this.' His hand goes to grab my hand but I move it out of his way, I feel anger take over my body. Before I know what I'm doing Edward is lying on the ground with a bloody nose and my knuckles hurt like hell, he's just as bewildered as I am.

'What happened in middle school is none of your business freak! I didn't solve your stupid riddle so you might as well go home to your insensitive and savage father!' I storm back down the alleyway before Edward can call after me; anger fills my body like adrenaline. I climb up the many sets of stairs and open the apartment door with my key, I don't say hello to my dad and head straight for my bedroom. Locking the door with a slam and bouncing on the bed to cover my tear streaked face I think about my mother, her dark skin and perfect curly hair. Lavender Fox was a beautiful and caring woman, I'm nothing like her, I'm cruel and belong in the freaks category. Edward doesn't deserve the treatment he gets, if I could swap places with him then I would have done years ago. I sob into my pillow and try to keep the face of Timothy Nashton out of my nightmares.

* * *

You could say Jonathan Crane was perplexed when he saw an Edward Nigma standing on his doorstep but he had seen it all before. The difference this time, instead of the usual bruises Crane could clearly recognize a dried blood nose. Edward still looked disheartened from the many times before, Crane moved out the way so Edward could enter then closed the rotting door behind him. Crane dragged Edward to the colourless couch and watched as he sat down gently, Edward raised his head to the ceiling and held his nose. Crane disappeared into the antique kitchen and fetched a towel, his lanky form made him tower over Edward as he passed the towel to him. He stood in front of Edward and analysed him as he usually did, it was apparent that the bloody nose wasn't by the hands of Edward's father that was true.

'If it wasn't your brute of a father then who was it Edward?' Edward turned his head to Crane and saw his arms were crossed; there was no lying to him.

'It was just some girl, nobody important.' Crane smirks at Edward's denial, knowing full well that 'just some girl' would never walk up to him, punch him in the face, maybe.

'I'm not particularly in the mood for your games Edward, either spit it out or I frighten it out of you.' Edward groans at Crane's stubbornness, why couldn't he just leave things alone?

'It was… Sylvia Tyler. I may have said some things to upset her and she punched me, I deserved it really. I was invading her privacy and being jerk, she asked me whether I wanted to stay at hers for tonight and I just bombarded her with questions.' Crane's jaw tightens at the mention of his psychology partner; she interfered with his education and now interfered in his only friend's business.

'Do you know what she is afraid of? I could slip some snakes into her bag jurying Psychology class tomorrow.'

'Jon don't you dare, she isn't as bad as she makes out. There are some things you don't know about her and I do, she's got people issues just as much as you do.' Crane taps his chin as he deciphers Edward's reasons for taking the red head girl's side.

'So that would suggest you've known her for some time then, how long exactly?'

'Jon don't start, I knew her in the preschool then haven't spoken to her since middle school.'

'Well, that was until she felt the urge to punch you for no good reason.' Sarcasm fills his voice, he begins to pace as a detective would, stopping every few seconds to glance at the victim. You can just imagine he's smoking a pipe as he walks.

'I told you, I invaded her privacy.'

'Yes but you must have given her an exceptional reason to hit _you_, if you've known her as long as you say. I'm sure she wouldn't think twice if it was me; probably poke me with a scolding poker.'

'She isn't like your grandmother, speaking of the witch where is she?' Crane waves a hand, obviously not wanting the 'witch' to be mentioned.

'Gone to Georgia for a week.'

'Lucky you, I'm still stuck with my father. I was wondering; could I stay here tonight?'

'So you deny a girl when she asks you to stay at hers, then ask a boy if you can stay at there's. Some just might say you lean the other way Nigma.' A smirk is plastered on his thin features.

'Shut it Jon, I am called queer enough at Gotham High I don't need it from you as well.' He wipes the last of the blood and drops the towel into his lap; questions accelerate through his head. He doesn't notice Crane leave the room or when he returns with a worn out brown blanket, the questions are still buzzing around his head as it rests itself on one of the couches pillows. Crane leaves the dead-to-the-world Edward in the living room and heads for his antique bedroom. Crow drawings stuck in every square of the damp walls, a pin board is the only change from the ocean of birds in flight. He writes a single message in delicate writing, carefully pinning it to the board. Electric eyes stare at the message, a hidden crow watches just behind them as if it agrees with the message.

_Find out what Sylvia Tyler is afraid of; show her true fear. _

* * *

Soft knocking makes my heavy head lift up to stare at the door, dilated pupils replaying terrifying memories. I lift myself from the lay down position I was once in and head to the door, I unlock it slowly and open the door just a crack and my grandfather's warm smile staring at me.

'You've only been at that High school for two weeks and already your acting like a woman when it's her time of the month.' His sarcastic tone makes me smile and I can't help but tackle him with a hug, what? I'm a sucker when it comes to my granddad. He returns the hug then drags me out into the dining room where my father is giving me a stern look. I tried to hide that look by burying my head into my granddad's jacket; the smell of machinery lingers into my nose. He uncoils himself from me so I'm met with my father's stern look again.

_Traitor_

'Could you tell me why you were so late coming home_? _Then can you explain that drama queen entrance.' My hands fumble with my black belt as he keeps that dad + late =angry look, I watch his baldhead shine against the artificial light of the bulbs above us. His hazel eyes staring into my amber, my amber eyes are supposedly the only thing I inherited from my mother and her side of the family and admittedly, it does show. My skin is exactly like my father's, fair with a hint of olive and though I have dyed my hair to mild red, my natural colour is chestnut brown. It's always hard for me to imagine my father with hair on his head, I just always imagined him as a bald six year old. My hairstyle I have no clue where I've got it from, my fringe usually slants to the right and it's too long according to my father. The tips of my hair end at the small of my back, that is the one thing my father approves of in my appearance. My father has always wanted me to be a brianiac like my mother was, probably why I took psychology. I decided to tell him the truth, what's the worst that can happen?

'I was walking a friend home because my other friend couldn't drive us. Then I bumped into someone I hadn't spoken with in a while, we got talking and I lost track of time.'

_Good enough, right?_

'Who was that person you 'bumped' into? I want to know so I can have a little chat with them.'

_Little chat…not good._

'Just a kid that goes to school with me, you don't know him and it wasn't him that made me go on a drama rage.' He crosses his arms, again, why is it everyone I know does that? I turn to grandpa Fox who puts a brown arm around my shoulder, he doesn't take sides and I'm relieved about that.

'Maybe you two can argue about this when I'm gone, now, Sylvia I have a little business proposition with you. Mr Earle has allowed you to work with me in applied sciences but only if you promise not to tell anyone what you see, he is willing to pay you minimum wages which can go towards your college fund.' From the way I stare at him blankly, he can tell I wasn't expecting to hear such good news, I've been trying to find a decent job for the past month and I was contemplating asking my dad for a job as a last resort. Even though I know _nothing_ about what my grandfather does it sounds interesting and has saved me from working with my over protective father. I hug him once more to hide the giant smile on my face; he knows that's my way of saying yes and chuckles into my hair. I know my dad is watching the scene with forced patience, he wants to know where I've been and I know he won't let me sleep until I've told him.

I lead Grandpa Fox out of the door and say a loving goodbye, the smile is gone as soon as I close the door, I can hear my dad's foot tapping on the dining room's floorboards. I turn to face my dad, commence protective mode, I give him a pout but it doesn't work, protective mode is powerful.

'I want times, places and names now missy.' He ticks them off on his pudgy fingers.

'Anna couldn't drive us as her mom is ill, Adrian lives in the Narrows and I hate him walking alone. I went to the garage to talk to Mr Nashton about someone, and then I bumped into Edward as I was walking home. We talked, then he left to go home, I came straight home after that and the reason I'm in a bad mood is because I have to work with the most intelligent, stereotypical and annoying person ever to be born.' After my long confession my dad sighs and places a hand to his forehead, he knows that I struggle at school; he still pushes me to do science as much as he can but it doesn't help.

'Sylvia, until your grades pick up and your behaviour towards school improves you are banned from going anywhere without my permission. You will come straight home, that means no walking people home and you don't let anyone give you a lift. Do you understand me?' Protective mode gone, hello annoyed mode. My eyes burn with their bright amber, he always does this.

'You don't get it! I'm not like mom, I'm not a genius and get top grades, I'm just me! Why can't you just let me do what I want instead of making me do something I know I can't do? The only reason I took psychology was because you made me to, I don't understand any of it and I never will! I thought you'd be happy to know I have friends instead of being a loner, instead you moan at me because I want to protect them, what if Adrian walks home on his own and people try to mug him or worse kill him! I would never be able to forgive you, or myself and to hell with my grades! I don't give a damn about school or being super smart because I just want to be me!' I run into my bedroom and slam the door as loud as I can, I grab my pillow and crouch against the door, screaming into the pillow my anger subsides and the adrenaline soon goes.

Tear marks cover the pillow as I lift my head; I blurrily stare at my alarm clock that sits on a stool next to my bed. It reads 11:48; I must have fallen asleep on my pillow. I drag my limp body up and get pins and needles for a punishment, a walk over to my wooden wardrobe and begin to get changed into my purple nightgown. As soon as my head hits the pillow (on the bed), I fall asleep once more, only to be met with the terrible memories of my childhood past.

**I looked EVERYWHERE for The Riddler's father's name and i couldn't find it so i had to make it up, well only the first name, hope you like this chapter and found the hints, i don't think i've revealed too much but knowing me i've done it without realizing but as i say i'm rubbish at mystery. Please review!**


	3. Nothing To Fear

**Sorry it's been a while but as i've said, i'm focusing more on the Alice turns violent sequel.**

**DISCLAIMER:I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS EXCEPT MY OC'S ALL OTHERS BELONG TO DC COMICS OR THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS.**

**Now, on with the chapter!**

* * *

_All alone he turns to stone_

_holding his breathe half to death_

_Terrified of what's inside_

_He crawls like a worm from a bird_

_The Bird And The Worm- The Used_

* * *

_We sat under our favourite oak tree, both of us hidden from the world by it's never ending shadow. Edward was the one that wanted to be hidden or forgotten have his way, not from the world or from our preschool peers, but from someone much closer. This someone in his DNA. His bruised face he tries to hide behind a creased bowler hat, even in the darkened shade, I can see the growing purple colour on his pulsing cheek. We do not speak of the bruises or the scratch marks, we carry on as normal without a care in the world. He sits on a pale green jacket as not to get his already creased clothes dirty, his right foot taps his left in a fast rhythm. His emerald eyes dart left and right as not to meet my own, I feel the urge to ask who did it, but I already know the answer. Instead, I reach into a plain denim bag beside my foot, to reveal a poorly wrapped present. His eyes brighten and a twitching smile appears on his face. I gently place the present in his hands and we share a laugh. His hands turn the present over, sending a confused look as he observes the wrapping paper._

'_It was the only wrapping paper my dad had, though I think it suits you.' He gives me a questioning look as he places a childlike hand on the wrapping paper, sliding it along until it lands on his lap._

'_Question marks…how do question marks suit __**me**__?' He utters quietly. Stealing the bowler hat, I ruffle his already messy hair, so a hollow laugh escapes his discoloured lips. I finish my sneak attack, placing the bowler hat on my head and smoke an invisible pipe._

'_Well, here is my deduction. Questions marks are used for questions, yes. Questions are associated with mysteries and another word for mystery is an enigma. You remember the nickname that I gave you on your sixth birthday Eddie, or should I say __**Mr E.**__' _

'_Mr E…Mystery, Mr E. Nigma. Yes, I remember, that surname you came up with after you read half of Sir Conan Doyle's collection of Sherlock Holmes.' I rest my head against his weak shoulder, making the bowler hat fall of my head and onto my lap. He rests his chin on my hair, feeling his breathes make my strands sway like the tree in a breeze above us._

'_You know how much of a bookworm I am, I would have read all of them if my dad hadn't interrupted me. Anyway, I wanted a nickname that made you different from Mr Nashton; you deserve to be known differently.' His heartbeat quickens the longer my headrests on his shoulder, his shirt is a crippled blue and it tickles against my ear. The tension between us grows as the awkward silence continues, Edward's father being mentioned ruined the peaceful moment, and I want to change the subject but find no words come to mind. I lift my head up to look at his dishevelled appearance, a flicker of poignancy from the movement. To avoid my eyes, he begins to tear at the wrapping paper. After a few seconds, he reveals the present, a book of one thousand puzzles. My face contorts into a smirk as a state of confusion is plastered on his face, a grateful expression follows, his fingers flick through the book._

'_You know, I have a nickname but you don't. I was wondering if we should change that. It has to be something out of the ordinary, something that describes you.' We stare at the dying sun as evening begins; the golden rays swirl over the tainted landscape, the sun being the only beauty in Gotham. A large bird passes through this ray of blissful light, its gigantic wings creating dark shadows as it flies with speed._

'_What about...Phoenix?' His voice is high as even he questions it._

'_Yes, I think I could get used to that.'_

* * *

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

_No, I don't want to get up, shut up!_

The constant buzzing of my alarm clock drags me half out of my original unconscious state. Fumbling to reach the snooze button, my vision is completely blurred and out of focus. My body is still reliving the dream, the smell of green grass, Edward's shoulder against my head. We had been the youthful age of nine, rather, I was, and Edward had turned ten. That peaceful moment had been one of few but the ultimate best, just sitting under that oak tree with my only friend in the world. Now, six years on, we hardly ever even looked at each other.

Moaning as teenage tiredness over took my senses; I stumbled out of bed. The rhythmic buzzing of my alarm clock was still echoing in my ears as I grabbed random clothes. I never really kept up with fashion, just throwing on what I could find worked for me. I stood in front of a full-length mirror, crusted sleep still in my eyes. I was wearing a white shirt under a thin black jumper, dark blue denim jeans, and white sneakers. I was impressed with my colour sense, I had even dragged on black laced gloves, and these came just below my elbow. I never bothered with make up so I shrugged my shoulders in approval. I went to open the door but it wouldn't budge. With a sigh, I unlocked it and stepped out into the dining room. The lights had been turned on above the dining table and toast had already been put in the toaster, my dad may be angry with me but he wouldn't trust me with electrical equipment. Dragging my aching feet over to the kitchen counter, I squinted at a piece of paper, poor handwriting, which was not good for morning eyes, was scribbled on the paper. Taking my time to decode the message, I realized it was from my dad.

_Had a call in so I had to leave early, toast already made for you. Remember to come straight home and **no** going to the narrows._

Snorting, I crushed the unlucky piece of paper and threw it in the bin, missing completely. Grabbing a plate and butter, I waited for the toast to fire out the mouth of burning hell. I struggled to keep my head from hitting the counter as the tiredness still squirmed around my body; I needed coffee, if I was going to survive another day of high school. Staring out the window across the room, I saw droplets of clear liquid slide down the glass.

'Great' I mumble as the droplets get heavier, clicking against the condensate window.

* * *

Have you ever had that feeling, when everything is ten times bigger than you are? That was exactly how I felt as I walked up the stone steps into Gotham High; my earliness is a first as I push open the double doors into the locker-filled corridor. Pulling the worthless hood off my damp red hair, my body is alert as the freezing water makes my shoes give a horrible squelching noise against the floor. Luckily, my locker is close to the exit corridor, just around the corner in the direction to English Literature. Most of the lights turn on as I walk down the corridor, the ventilation making that annoying squeaking noise. The machinery of projectors hum above my head and the smell of floor polish contaminate my nose, the school looks brand new, and nothing that suggests it's over forty years old. I face my locker; agitation has my bottom lip quivering.

_Queer fancier_

Big black letters written diagonally over the locker, I can tell it's permanent marker just by looking at it. Sighing, I open the locker and find it has been vandalised further, black ink plastered against every surface of the locker. I read every message and feel sick in the pit of my stomach, all of this hate because I helped one geek.

_Freak alert! You don't belong here. Anna deserves better friends than a queer girl. Next, you'll be sleeping with Ichabod._

The last message made my face go pale; grabbing whatever books I needed I quickly slammed the locker door closed. I sprinted down the corridor, feeling invisible eyes judging at me, invisible fingers pointing at my small form. Tears were trying to escape out my eyes the whole time I ran, I kept them at bay, and I would wait until I got home until those tears would escape. I hadn't even checked my timetable, I stopped feeling my lungs contract as oxygen entered them once more. Fumbling with the zip of the bag, I pulled out the crumbled piece of paper. I scream of horror stuck in my throat, my first lesson was psychology, this couldn't be happening. There is no way I've got Psychology first. I checked again to make sure my eyes weren't playing a cruel trick. But, no. I have psychology first period. Rushing down the corridor again, I keep my breathing at a normal level as my heartbeats against my ribs.

The classroom was a lot closer than usual, hearing no voices inside I enter with caution. Scanning the room, there is only one person, sitting at their desk and scribbling down notes. Jonathan Crane, Creepy Crane. Dr Young isn't even in the room, I must be incredibly early. I stand at the door, thinking of closing it without him noticing I've entered the room.

'Are you going to stand there gawping at me the whole day, or are you going to sit down?' His voice is full of arrogance, I want to run, yell if I have to. He doesn't even look up from his notes as he continues to 'talk' to be, normally he would ignore my existence and I to him. This sudden interest in talking to me makes my mind wander back to that message.

'Is it possible that you have lost whatever poor excuse for brains cells you had?' I ignore the comment, anger move my feet towards his hunched over body, snatching the notebook from his grasp, I fling it across the room. He looks bored and only slightly annoyed. 'I will not be victim to these childish acts, why don't you try growing up for once.'

'Whatever you've heard or if you're part of that sick joke, I don't want to sleep with you so just stop talking to me!' I yell, letting the anger leave my vocal chords. His face is priceless. Confusion and embarrassment rolled into one, blue eyes glazed with red cheeks.

'Excuse me?'

'You heard, I don't like you, in fact, I despise you! So tell your freak friends to stop writing disgusting messages in my locker, I don't even know how you got in that damn thing!' I sit at the desk next to him, feeling a tear roll down my face; I wipe it away because showing weakness is not something you want to do in front of Creepy Crane. I look straight ahead, focusing on the unused whiteboard. I hear him stand slowly, his thin shadow passing over my face as he picks up the thrown notebook. He sits down again, clearing his throat against his hand. The silence is killing me, tapping a foot against the metal leg of the desk just to make noise. I can feel his infuriated electric gaze as I continue to beat the poor leg.

'Can you stop that, it's very aggravating.' I stop for a few seconds then begin again, his sigh of irritation makes my head snap to my left.

'Look, I'm _sorry_ if my ADHD is pissing you off, but I can't exactly help it.' Pushing his glasses up his nose, he gives me that 'I know a million ways to murder you' look.

'I would prefer, if you didn't use that type of language.'

'Art thou annoyed of thy speech?'

'Childish acts, is that because you crave attention? Do you _fear_ what people think of you?' I take the way he says fear as a red alert, Creepy Crane talking about fear… A BIG no go. His blue eyes become darker, am I paranoid? Probably, but I can tell he is in his element as he continues.

'Do you _fear_ people's judgment of you? What is it Sylvia Tyler' His voice is full of venom as he mentions my name and I cower in my chair 'that makes you _afraid?' _His questions are venomous, as if he's poisoned me into revealing my deepest secrets, I feel my mouth open on its own accord. His eyes are hypnotising, I feel like a rabbit being stalked by a fox. Before I can answer, Dr Young enters the room. For the first time, I'm glad to see her. Crane sits with a straight spine, as if the conversation had never happened.

'Miss Tyler, it is normally your style to be late.'

'Fashionably Dr Young, though, I wanted a change. See what the school is like before we trash it.' A hum of questioning is heard as she sets up for the lesson ahead, like before, I ignore Crane and he ignores me. We are enemies, our nemeses, yet we both want to keep Edward from getting hurt, if only I had known that as I glare at the right side of his face.

* * *

The cafeteria is alive with noise as usual; I haven't seen Adrian or Anna all day, making me feel like a loner. The jocks keep throwing bits of half-eaten food at my head, but I ignore their taunts. A crushed sandwich is all I have for lunch today; I can't bring myself to eat it. Instead, I push it to one side and get lost in my own thoughts. Flashes of Edward when we were younger fill my head, that day when we sat under the oak tree on his tenth birthday; the dream had seemed so real. Scientists think you dreams are serial thoughts of what you see the time before, I had seen Edward that day, and he had been pulled into my dreams. Feeling the need to breathe, I leave the cafeteria, hearing wolf whistles behind me.

The midday sun warms my depressed body, breathing in deeply; I sit on the stone steps. My bag slips of my shoulder as my arms begin to ache, rubbing my hands over my eyes; I see darkness and then brightness as sleep falls out my eyes. Sitting in the sun, I wonder why no one comes out here, just to feel less claustrophobic refreshes my body. I hear footsteps walk down the steps and I think of the jocks in the cafeteria.

'I've heard it all before, just leave me alone.'

'Sylvia?' That shy voice, I turn my body and see Edward staring down at me, next to him a miffed Crane. He's wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday, I can easily make out dry blood stains. Guilt rises in my stomach, our meeting yesterday wasn't the most civil. He has a cafeteria tray in his hand; it shakes slightly in his quavering fingers. Awkward Silence echoes around us, even the chirping birds have stopped their songs, by the way, they continue to stand, and I get the hint.

'Oh, I'll just go, I didn't know this is where you sit.' Crane nods his head.

'No it's fine, you can sit with us.' Crane looks at Edward with pleading eyes then hangs his head. Edward sits next to me, stumbling as he nearly misses a step; Crane just plonks himself next to Edward, keeping as far away from me as humanly possible. Edward, as the kind person he is, offers some of his food to be but I just shake my head as guilt expands my stomach. Crane doesn't eat either, all he has is one of those tea canisters, the ones that keep it warm. We all sit in silence, Edward staring at his food while Crane analyses me and I just stare at Gotham City.

'Jon told me about your confrontation earlier.' I turn my head to look at Edward; he just keeps his eyes on his tray. Keeping fear out of my voice is difficult but I try my best as I answer to the previous statement.

'Oh, and what did he say?' I can feel Crane's eyes watching me with disgust, suddenly, the thought of being in the cafeteria sounds promising.

'He said people had been writing inappropriate messages in your locker… I'm sorry if it's because you helped me yesterday but to be fair, it could have been a lot worse.' We all agree on that, it could have been a _lot_ worse but it doesn't help the fact that people are associating me with Creepy Crane.

'Did…_Jonathan _say anything else about our _confrontation_?' Yes, I was saying his name to annoy him but it's worth it as his face goes even more pale.

'No, why, did something else happen?' Crane shifts his eyes away from mine, knowing what he didn't tell Edward makes me smile evilly, I could it as blackmail to make Dr Young give him another psychology partner. However, because I'm feeling kind, I won't let that hang over Crane's head.

'He started to ask what I am scared of.' Edward snaps his head to Crane, a look of distrust on his freckled face.

'I told you not to Jon, I told you it was nothing.' Crane just pours himself some tea and doesn't bother to look at Edward as he speaks.

'As long as _she_ doesn't hit you again… She has nothing to fear.' The threat sends a chill up my spine; Edward senses this and whispers in my ear, his breathe tickling my ear.

'Don't worry, he may seem scary but he's a softy if you understand him.' I give Edward my best 'are you kidding me?' look and he just shrugs, going back to his mashed potato. We sit there in silence once more, watching time pass by, Edward is in the middle as Crane and I share death glares. If it wasn't for him, we probably would have murdered each other by now. Sitting there, on those steps, it felt right, like we belonged in those places. Edward in the middle trying to stop Crane and me from killing each other, if only we knew what would happen after that year had ended. If only I knew, how much of my family's secrets they would know.

**Sorry for the long wait but it's up now, gotta think of where i'm going to sent this story. I have her secrets and how they find out, it's jsut the inbetween bits that i'm trying to figure out, any suggestions are appreciated! Pls review**


	4. Rescue Mission

**I have officially found my Riddler! I was going on youtube to find some songs when i came across a video about Riddler and Harley, that's when i found JUDE LAW! Seriously, if they ever do another Batman film, he could play The Riddler. Check out the videos by Bloodyzora, THEY ARE EPIC but with a few mature clips.**

**Almost forgot...I'M BACK! Sorry for the lateness but i have had zero insparation, none what so ever. I've kind of gone a little further ahead and written a chapter for when they are older, that's going to take me forever to finally come to that part.**

**Thank you Guest, Impar and saint-macmanus for the lovely reviews, i hope you enjoy the chapter.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS EXCEPT MY OC'S ALL THE REST BELONG TO DC COMICS OR THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS.**

**With that done, on with the chapter...**

* * *

_Where did i go wrong?_

_i lost a friend_

_Somewhere along with the bitterness_

_and i would have stayed_

_How to save a life- The Fray_

* * *

The weeks passed the same way, me sitting on the stone steps with Edward and reluctantly Crane. We would part ways as classes began and I would sometimes watch Crane leave in his pickup before walking home. Anna and Adrian I found were slightly jealous of my sudden kindness towards the nerds; I would catch Anna whispering to her popular friends as I walked down the corridors. Adrian became the quiet and forgotten kid again, only seeking me when his loneliness got the best of him; comforting that he would still talk to me.

The name-calling got worse though it wasn't a surprise, bullies love fresh games, my locker was vandalised everyday but I took no notice. Interacting with Edward again was worth the name-calling, the only downside being his friendship with Crane. I wasn't so heartless that I would make Edward pick, but Crane didn't exactly make it easy for me. He would either downgrade or worse lecture me on my dropping grades (though I wondered how he knew), Edward had him to offer me tutoring but I declined, one lesson with Crane was enough.

Speaking of lessons, psychology was still a bore, even more so as Dr Young decided threes were better than pairs. Guess who she collaborated me and Crane with, Harleen freaking Quinzel. I have nothing against her, except her extremely overzealous personality; seriously, she can talk faster than Sherlock Holmes can. Her blonde hair usually in two uneven ponytails, red lipstick plastered over her already large lips. She's one of the gymnasts along with Pamela Isley, though unlike Harleen, Pamela is quieter and a shy girl. Crane like me wasn't too thrilled about the partnership, now he had two people he hated to work with. What was more annoying about Harleen, she assumed too much and thought of the most preposterous things.

I had psychology first thing, this lesson that happened to be the new arrangements. Therefore, Harleen who insisted on being called Harley sat with Crane and me. Almost instantly, she began to pester us, I'm not entirely sure who she annoyed more.

'Are you two, ya know, _together_?' I felt my cheeks bloom, though Crane's were redder than mine were.

'Absolutely not, she's too childish.' For once, I didn't argue with him, I'd rather be insulted than having people think I _liked_ him. Harley pouted, pursing her lips together while twisting a ponytail.

'Shame, you two look cute together.' I choked on an invisible object, coughing non-stop for what seemed like an eternity. Heat rushed to my cheeks again as the classroom was silent after my choking spree, Crane just found it amusing, a smirk hidden behind his hand. We continued with our assignment, with Harley insisting that we would be a cute couple; Crane gave up after a time and let her rant.

The assignment wasn't all that difficult, saying that, I just let Crane do the work for me. The assignment being about phobias, we had to ask each other what our phobias were, and then think of possible ways to cure said fear. Harley's wasn't very original, rats were quite a common phobia. The phobia's scientific name being musophobia, this is because the Latin word for mouse, which is mus. I know, I was beginning to listen in psychology, but the ban was becoming tiresome.

Our cure for musophobia was to sit in a room with a caged rat, once feeling brave enough, open the cage and gently stroke the rat. This rat being a pet rat rather than the horrible ones you find on the streets. Harley wouldn't comply when we asked her whether she would do the cure, after her decline, we moved onto my phobia. I have to say, Crane was eager to know my fear, placing a hand below his chin. I noticed his less taunting demeanour, no snide comments; he was acting stranger than usual. I ignored the signs and carried on with the assignment, it seemed, I would have to lie.

'My phobia is probably…birds.' I lied. Crane glared at me but didn't press on the answer. I did learn that fear of birds is called Ornithophobia; apparently, scientists liked complicated and hard to say names. Our cure for Ornithophobia was difficult to create, as in; we had no clue on how to cure it. Crane being Crane, he came up with a cure. All you had to do was to walk in a cornfield full of crows, once in the centre walk back and do this for a week. Crane then asked me whether I would try this cure, without hesitation I confirmed that I would do it, just to prove I was braver than he thought. He dully revealed that there was an old cornfield behind his house, though it would be difficult to get into it as thorn bushes hid it.

'The other problem being, that we are technically not supposed to go to the cornfield.'

'Since when did that stop anyone, it's not like we're sticking around, just to walk to the centre and back again.' Crane crosses his arms over his chest.

_'We? _I never said I was going _with_ you, besides, I have better things to do than help a scared little girl.' I raise an eyebrow, Harley's awkward smile seen in the corner of my eye.

'I'm not scared, that's why I'm going, unless _you're_ the one that's scared.' His eye twitched, signalling that he is angry; I waited for his comeback. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he wrote notes with a steady hand.

'I am _never_ scared, though fear is an interesting emotion. How could I miss the chance to watch you scream in absolute fear? I will go, but we can't be there for more than half an hour.' His steady voice like ice, the idea of going alone, suddenly sounded like a better idea.

* * *

The stone steps were slightly damp due to the light rain earlier that morning, thus I had to sit on my black rainproof coat. The sky was a dismal grey with hints of darkening black. It feels like the beginning of a dangerous, never-ending storm, and on the worst day possible. The fifth of January, Edward's eighteenth birthday, today _had_ to be special. I had missed the last eight birthdays; I wasn't going to miss this one, not his eighteenth.

His present is hidden deep inside my bag, though, I struggled to find anything. I wanted something practical, something he would find useful, this useful thing being a new jacket. For the past few weeks, I'd seen Edward wearing long-sleeved shirts, no indication in bringing a jacket. I guessed by the way he hung his head whenever he walked passed me, his father was still being brutal, more importantly, brutal to him. It's difficult to see him struggle, no power over what goes on in that apartment, I know, he needs security. Therefore, I planted a note inside the jacket, a small message or invitation.

_If you ever need a place to stay, you know you can ask me._

_ Phoenix _

It felt strange to use the nickname again, but it felt like my duty to use it, he, after all, created it. I didn't plan on eating today, nervousness clouding my hunger. Sitting on the coat, I feel even more nervous, though why should I be nervous? It is just a present after all; at least I had the common cutesy to _buy_ one. Some people I know could argue that making a present means you put more effort into it, but, they hadn't seen me try to make anything, trust me when I say, buying is better. Nothing suggests that this day marks a special birthday, the clouds grey and damp air whispering in people's ears. Nothing that suggests what happens next.

'Are you still attending the cure after school?' That mature voice, I find myself fighting the urge to make a comeback, instead I wait for him to sit down. When he sits, he leaves a giant gape for Edward, though the gape is ten times farther but I'm not going to complain.

'Yes, but I need a ride, I have no clue where this cornfield.' About the ban, some of my grades had risen so I had some privileges back, these privileges being getting rides home and staying out later. I couldn't be out for long, little below an hour, still, it was better than nothing. Crane didn't seem overly thrilled at my request, opening his bag to study something, only to pull out a rather large psychology textbook.

'If you're suggesting what I think you are, you want _me_ to drive _you_ there.'

'If it's too much for you, I can find another way, walking through The Narrows with all those junkies sounds like fun.' My sarcasm is typical for my age, possibly more childish but it works.

'Very well, just don't pester me to drive anywhere again.'

'Don't worry, it's just this once.' Studying his textbook, we wait for Edward to turn up, me clawing at my nails while Crane ignores me. I can hear him sighing angrily but my thoughts are making me distant from the world. Something isn't right, I can feel it, like an ache in my bones. I think Crane senses this too; so much so, he looks at me with a questioning look, we both never lose the gaze.

'You have…seen Edward today, haven't you?' He shakes his head slowly, telling me my worst fear.

'No, I thought he was with you. Sylvia, you don't think…' He doesn't have to finish, we know it's probably true, I don't even notice that he said my name. We just stare at each other for a couple of minutes, trying to console the situation. We sit there for so long that the school bell that signals the end of lunch echoes away from us.

'Jonathan, are you willing to skive off school?'

'In this special circumstance, yes, what exactly are you planning to do?' Grabbing my bag to fling it over my shoulder, I stand, staring down at Crane as he pushes his glasses up his nose.

'I have absolutely no idea.'

* * *

The Gotham roads were as busy as normal, stopping every so often and then to take thirty minutes to start up again. The old pickup was in quite a good condition, minus a few dents in the paintwork. It was completely silent inside; neither I nor Crane speaking a word as our attentions were drawn onto our friend. During the drive, I noticed that Crane could be reckless in his driving, going through red lights if necessary. It was a good thing I wasn't known for car sickness, or he would have a lot of trouble on his hands. My head stayed firmly on the glass window, watching the buildings intently as if they would disappear, Crane on the other hand kept his eyes on the road ahead.

This was breaking a lot of rules, and not just the high schools, if my father knew I wasn't in school, I would be banned until I died. It was a good thing he wasn't at the garage today, as that is our destination. The plan that we thought of quickly, wasn't the most spectacular, we both were sceptic that it would work. Crane took this moment to side glance at me, he had questions, but so did I.

'Why did you say my name back there?' I hear him scoff at my question as he watches the car in front of us.

'Is that a crime now? I can assure you, it was just the spur of the moment and nothing more. I could say the same about you; you also used my name and not how usually use it to aggravate me. Could you go through your faultless plan again, just so I know how ludicrous it is?' I turn to face him, sitting bolt upright.

'I didn't hear _you_ with any ideas, can we please just this once, stop arguing, and think about the task ahead. Mr Nashton keeps a spare apartment key in the garage just in case he loses the first or for my dad who used to feed the dog. We use that key and head to Edward's apartment, Mr Nashton won't be there because he'll more likely be on a beer binge. We find Edward and… I don't know what to do afterwards.' I sigh deeply as the go over of our plan makes me feel lightheaded, neither of us have no idea what state Edward is in, as far as we know, he could be lying in his own blood. This fact makes the atmosphere feel tense, so tense you could probably poke it with a stick. Jonathan doesn't speak again, he just watches the road, blocking out my nervous tapping of the dashboard.

The journey is ten times longer than it actually is; even when we reach the garage, it feels like hours since we left the school's parking lot. I step out of the pickup, feeling pins and needles in my feet and knees; Jonathan agrees to stay in the pickup, finding it easier then both of us going inside. The sun reveals its golden rays as I open the door, warming my back before I'm met with a cold shiver up my spine. There is someone in the garage, scratch that, there are _many_ people in the garage. I find myself crouching in a corner under one of the metal desks, knowing that these people aren't friendly, though there aren't many friendly people in Gotham. The sounds of paper being shuffled and moved enter my ears, as if they are searching for something.

'Whatever you are searching for, it isn't here.' My father's terrified voice echoes from the behind a row of metal shelves.

'Yer lying, I know you have it 'ere. Ima simple man, with simple rules, I don't hire rats.' The New York accent of a complete stranger snarls back, the person I can just see is pacing back and forth. This man having brown hair with a few greys hairs, a large trendy coat hiding most of this stranger from my view.

'I'm no rat Mr Falcone; I never said a word to the cops. I don't have your money, I-I swear.' My curiosity outweighs my fear at this point, the name Falcone is familiar but I don't know why or why my father is in contact with him. I shift my body ever so slightly, to get a better view of the scene, only to make a spanner crash to the floor making my ears ring. I choke on a breathe as all the strangers turn to my direction; I hide even further inside the desk, praying that they didn't see me.

'Over there…noises…will one of ya idiots go see what is was!' Quickening stomps vibrate the floors, heading towards my hiding spot. My heart hammers against my ribs; I am forced to close my eyes as I struggle to breathe. When I finally open my eyes, I see freshly scuffed black shoes, they squeak near the edge of the desk.

'There's nothing here boss.' The shoes turn back around towards the rest of the group, silently thanking whoever made this particular person dumb. I clamber from the hidden position, only to still have a poor view of the scene.

'Why don't we take this somewhere more…private?' The leader speaks loudly, drowning in the attention and fear everyone was giving him. Dozens of feet motion towards the exit, slamming the doors open then letting them close slowly. I emerge slowly, feeling my legs ache from the awkward position I was once in. I stumble towards the lockers, grabbing hold of the shelves to steady myself as my legs try to give way. Finally, I reach the lockers, the spare key hanging off a lonely hook. I tug it off the hook and begin my leave, even more questions milling around my brain.

Jonathan is still in his pickup, but it had moved thirty metres further than its original spot. I clamber inside; as soon as I shut the door, he starts the engine with a roar. Our eyes never leave the road as we head towards Edward's apartment, I know Jonathan saw them, I can tell by his silence.

'Falcone isn't just anybody…I hope you know that.' I breathe as I replay the scene from a few minutes ago, the man in the trench coat and his henchmen.

'I was well aware of that; I just don't understand why my father would be involved with someone like him.' There is a long and awkward silence, only the horns of the cars around us break this silence.

'Desperation…' We whisper in unison.

* * *

As we take each step to the jaws of hell, I can't help but feel fear, Jonathan basks in this, even if he doesn't realize it. The apartment is suddenly right in front of us, the paintwork chipped and old, the key having to be forced inside the lock. We glance at each other before I turn the key, the sound of scraping metal, as it turns clockwise. Pushing the door open slowly, the smell of alcohol and rotten food hits us like a turn of bricks, fresh air no longer an option. I feel sick in the pit of my stomach as we step inside the apartment, empty beer cans littering every inch of the floor. Wallpaper is sliding off the walls around us, the over whelming stench of unclean clothing wavers around the room.

'Edward, it's Sylvia and Jonathan, where are you?' The apartment is silent, except from our cautious steps. Jonathan walks ahead of me to a door near the open kitchen, he knocks on the wood, turning to me when no one answers. I nod as he inches the door open, the door creaking like a distressed mouse. I follow behind him, half wishing I could close my eyes and forget what I had just witnessed.

'I think…we might have to delay that appointment in the cornfield.'


	5. Not Planned Sleep Over

**How long has it been since i updated this? PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! i know it's been a while but i've had loads of mind blanks and not to mention new ideas for new stories, so i'm sorry for the long wait. I've recently got an obsession for the TV show Supernatural, i've started writing some stories for it so if you want to check them out.**

**Thanks for all the reviews, and for being so patient with this story, you people are wonderful!**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS EXCEPT MY OC'S ALL THE REST BELONG TO DC COMICS OR THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS.**

**With that done (drumroll), on with the chapter...**

* * *

_The sun goes down, the stars come out,_

_And all that counts, is here and now,_

_My universe, will never be the same,_

_I'm Glad you came,_

_The Wanted ~ Glad you came_

* * *

I follow behind him, half wishing I could close my eyes and forget what I had just witnessed.

'I think…we might have to delay that appointment in the cornfield.' I hear Jonathan speak jokily, the first time it seems. I find myself burying my head into Jonathan's shoulder, while I still hear Edward vomiting. He had been in mid-vomit as we had entered that being why I had to close my eyes; I can't stand the smell of vomit. A bowel is precariously balancing on Edward's knees, his duvet covering his shaking legs as more contents is spilled into the bowl.

Jonathan flinches as he realizes that I am very close to him, I pull away, embarrassment at my weakness. Instead, I walk closer to Edward, who continues to vomit into the bowel; I pluck up the courage and kneel next to him.

He stares at me, his eyes then snapping to Jonathan, as he is confused as to why we are here. He tries to sit up, but I gently push him back down, placing a hand on his forehead, his head boils against my skin, I begin to panic, thinking this is no ordinary sickness. Edward stares at me, those seaweed eyes full of fear, probably with a mixture of embarrassment.

'Jonathan, his temperatures extremely high, I think he might have food poisoning.' I say hysterically, Jonathan doesn't flinch, finding my diagnosis quick and not so accurate. Finally, he stumbles over to me and Edward, he checks Edward's temperature again, studies his face and finally asks questions.

'Do you feel nauseas?' Edward nods, both Jonathan and me take a step back as Edward vomits again, we crouch once more after Edward finishes emptying his stomach. Edward flinches every few minutes, as if is muscles are painful, I know already that that is a sign of severe food poisoning.

'Jonathan, to we need to call an ambulance?' Jonathan contemplates for a few seconds, and then shakes his head.

'No, we just need to keep him hydrated and keep that temperature down. Go and fetch a damp towel and some water for him to drink.' I obediently leave to find the two objects, not even bothering to argue. Edward's house is a maze to me, everything seems to have changed, I have to search for a clean towel, most of them strewn on the floor, and a not contaminated glass.

Eventually I find both things and hurriedly dash back to Edward's room. I hand the towel to Jonathan, who carefully places it over Edward's forehead, after a while, Jonathan motions me to gently let Edward sip some of the water. I'm careful not to spill it over him, letting him take small sips every few seconds. Once the glass is empty, Jonathan elects himself to get some more water, incidentally leaving me to pat the towel against Edward's forehead.

I watch Edward moan as the pain worsens; I try to shush him, which he complies to and tries not to moan. Once the towel is warm again, I remove it, running my hand against his forehead, pushing his mangled hair out of his face. He lazily stares at me, struggling to keep his eyes open, he breathes deeply as his nose is clogged.

'Oh Eddie, what are we going to do with you?' I sigh, internally asking that question to myself, he smiles at this, though the smile changes as he goes to vomit into the bowel again. I narrowly miss being covered in sick, but I stay by his side, once he finishes, he looks at me with a smirk.

'Hopefully you won't punch me again.' I laugh at the sarcastic tone, it slightly hoarser than his normal voice, but he smiles when he sees that I found it funny. He lies back down, and I return to my position with my hand on his forehead. He closes his eyes, his chest rising slowly as he falls asleep, I'm petrified that he won't wake up but I let him sleep, knowing it's the best thing for him. It isn't long before Jonathan is back in the room with fresh water, he watches the scene with humour, eventually he coughs making me jump out of my skin. I turn to him with evil eyes.

'Scare me to death why don't you?' I say without thinking, Jonathan doesn't seem fazed by the comment, and actually wears a tight smirk. He crouches next to Edward before he speaks, placing the glass on the floor.

'Why would I want to kill? I would have no one to fetch stuff when asked.' I ignore this, but feel annoyed, but in a way, I find myself internally wanting to punch his arm. I go to stand, grabbing the warm towel. Jonathan stops me, making me crouch again, and he then stands and takes the towel from me. He leaves without a word, letting me to stay with Edward. I begin to understand what Edward had said, Jonathan could be a softy when it concerned Edward, maybe I had been quick to judge, but I still hate him.

'Great, now I'm calling him by his first name properly.' I whisper to myself, I then hear the sound of breaking glass and growling. I smirk to myself, now knowing that Jonathan has found the dog. I reluctantly leave Edward's side and follow the barking, only to find Jonathan pinned against the wall by the Great Dane, saliva all over Jonathan's face. I stand there for a few seconds, laughing loudly as the scene continues. Once I think Jonathan's suffered enough, I whistle the Great Dane over to me, he instantly jumps off Jonathan and nearly tackles me to the ground.

'Hey Einstein, I guess you remember me then.' I laugh as the Great Dane slobbers all over my jeans, I rub his head and here him moan happily. I manage to lead him into a room and close the door, saliva dripping from my hands and most of my body; I flick it off and watch it fall to the floor. We can hear Einstein whining glumly as he is locked in a room, Jonathan smartens himself up, not liking the massive dog.

'Edward never said he had Dogzilla in his apartment, he made me break a plate.' I can't help but giggle at Jonathan's dishevelled appearance, though he doesn't find it so amusing. He dampens the towel and heads to Edward's room, not looking me in the eye, I then decide to clean up the broken glass.

I use one of the dirty towels to put the broken glass in, the sharp shards deadly to touch. I'm have a few pieces left to clean up when a cut my finger, dropping the piece I had in my hand, the gentle sting makes me hiss. I stand to put the cut under the sink, droplets of blood dripping onto the floor and counter. The stinging becomes harsher the longer I keep it under the tap, the freezing water bringing little relief, the water turns red as my blood mixes with the liquid.

I don't bother with a plaster, I'll put one on when I get home. Thinking about home, I remember that we left school a few hours ago, so we have about an hour left before it's the end of the day. I quickly decide to stay with Edward, I'd rather know he's safe than leave him to face the wrath of his father. I pick up the rest of the pieces and put the rag in the bin, my head aches as the stench of stale beer stains my nostrils.

When I enter Edward's room again, he is awake and sipping some of the fresh water in Jonathan's hand. He stops when he sees me, even Jonathan turns his head to look at me, noticing the cut on my finger. I walk over and sit next to Jonathan, my emotions rocketing as I realize that we have worked as a team to help Edward, neither one of us trying to take control; it's now that Jonathan raises his hand for me to shake. I take it and we shake on a truce, Edward moans, but not in pain, rather relief.

'If I had realized that I needed to get ill to stop you killing each other, I would have done it a long time ago.' He says through a dry throat, I sigh, knowing that I can't back out now, I'm part of this insane trio…say hello to the freak category and goodbye fairly normal.

_Screw fairly normal, it's the insane that have more fun._ I think inside my head, the truth is that the statement is right.

'Jon told me Einstein remembered you, it explains the saliva.' Edward chokes as he forces a cough out of his throat, I can see Jonathan is still covered in dog drool, saying that, so am I. Before any of us can move, the front door slams open; we freeze, knowing it could be only one person. Sure enough, the sound of a bottle breaking comes from the main room; Mr Nashton is actually home before midnight, that's a change. We can hear him stumble to the door, burping disgustingly, he thuds on the door, me and Jonathan remain quite.

'Yer better not have gotten shit everywhere moron, you'd be the one to clean it up.' He slurs his words as he speaks, but Edward is unable to reply, a mixture of panic and the need to vomit don't help. Luckily, Mr Nashton stumbles away, letting all of us breathe a sigh of relief, all of us stare at each other. We can't leave Edward like this, he needs to be hydrated and Mr Nashton won't care, have it his way, he would let him die. Jonathan rubs his eyes from under his glasses, I know he knows what I'm planning on doing, but it's dangerous ad near impossible.

'We can't leave him here.' I whisper harshly, meaning that I _won't_ leave him here.

'What can we do, we can't exactly carry Edward to the front door, and the brute will see us.' However, he might not see us, if he's had enough to drink, he should fall asleep straight away, giving us the chance to get Edward out the front door. Somehow, Jonathan can tell what I'm thinking, but he doesn't like it, there's too many risks. We can't put it down to a vote, because both boys will vote against me, so instead I elect the idea and firmly tell Jonathan to grab one of Edward's arms, at first he doesn't listen, but I give him a murderous look until he caves and does as instructed.

Once Jonathan is comfortable holding Edward's arm, I grab the other, and we slowly lift Edward to his feet. I try to grab the bowel but Edward is too heavy to carry both, a strange thought when he is nearly as thin as Jonathan is. Slowly, we edge forwards, letting Edward take his time, every step we take my heartbeats faster, my plan even making me doubtful. After twenty small steps, we back it to the battered door, I manuover so I can turn the doorknob, turning slowly to make as little noise as possible. A short click and I pull the door open, all of us having to take an awkward step backwards.

Firstly, I check to see if the coast is clear, and it is, I can see and a door across the room slightly ajar. I nod my head, and we begin to move forward, Edward becomes limper as we cross the room, which makes Jonathan's job and mine harder. We come to the halfway mark when Einstein whines loudly, I curse in my head, wishing I could shut Einstein up. We here the growl of Mr Nashton and we freeze, not daring to move one-step further to freedom.

'Shut up you damn mutt!' He bellows, but we don't hear him stand, so we wait until we hear him begin to snore. Once we know it's safe again, we move forward, each step making a small creak from the floorboards. Then, I out stretch my hand to the front door, opening slowly while my handshakes violently, it opens with a rather loud click. The hallway is a relief to see, but we're not out of it yet, now, we have to deal with the stairs. I close the door, and it does stay silent, but the hallway floorboards creak even louder. We change our positions, trying to get a good grip before descending the stairs.

I stare down, knowing there is two sets of stairs, now I curse aloud, which Jonathan sighs as a response.

'Language, how many times, mind your language.' He whispers loudly.

'You really want to do this now, when we've got those damn stairs ahead of us?' I reply angrily, my patience wearing thin.

'Maybe we should just head back.' Edward says innocently, which me and Jonathan snap our heads to him.

'Shut up Edward.' We say in unison before getting back to the task ahead.

* * *

We manage to drag him down the stairs, but a few comments were said on both parts, but the victory made us forget. Once we get into the fresh air, all of us take deep much needed breaths, but we have to let Edward vomit in a dying bush, as he finally is able to relieve himself. Getting him into the pickup was difficult, but with much movement of limbs, we managed to get him into the middle, and as we drove, I kept a sick bag on my lap just in case. Edward was so weak, he couldn't keep his head to stay upright, and I ended up having to let him rest his head on my shoulder. Jonathan actually drove carefully now, not wanting to clean up vomit, and to help Edward steady himself.

'You didn't have to do that, I've been ill before.' Edward says against my shoulder, I elect to answer as Jonathan focuses on the road.

'Like we would leave you like that, probably the only reason Jonathan hadn't helped you before, was because he didn't know.' I say sternly, as if I'm scolded Edward for not asking for help, which in a way, I am. Edward stays quiet after that, only vomiting once when Jonathan turns a corner, I know by the route that Jonathan is taking us to his house. The route I try to memorize, just in case I ever have to go to Jonathan's for an emergency, though I wonder what emergency that would be.

The Narrows reminds me of Edward's apartment, the stench and generally, uncleanliness is enough to scrunch my nose. I wonder how Adrian is doing, knowing he lives somewhere in this area The Narrows, though I haven't actually ever been inside his house. I think this strange, I've been friends with Adrian for as long as Edward, yet I've never been inside his house, I've known Jonathan a lesser time, and we are going there now. My eyes stay on the road and the people walking along the sidewalk, I can't help but feel sorry for them, living in these conditions.

'It's about fifteen minutes away, before you ask.' Jonathan interrupts my concentration, he doesn't say much else after that, but the silence helps my growing headache. I find myself leaning my own head against the window, the vibration comforting and strangely making me sleepy, I feel Edward shift after I've moved, but soon enough he is comfortable. I wonder how this looks from Jonathan view, I would look but I'm already happy where I am, and I'm pretty sure he would be focusing on the road anyway.

* * *

Soon enough, we come to an old dirt road on the edge of the city, the cobble stones making me sit upright, which Edward moaned at as well as nearly vomiting four times. Jonathan didn't seem to mind the bumpy ride, though I suppose doing this for five days a week, you kind of get used to it. In the end, I began to look at the vintage houses along the road, each one being about fifty meters away from the other. Not many of the owners were outside, except for a few children who played out on the lawn. Jonathan had to slow down due to the cobblestones and carried on driving until we came to an old mansion sized house right at the end of the road.

All the curtains were closed, in fact it didn't even look like anyone lived here it was that unkempt. Jonathan parked precariously next to the house, narrowly missing the veranda by a few centimetres. Before he jumped out of the driver's seat, he checked to see if anyone was in, though I'm not sure how he could from this distance.

'My grandmother is in Georgia, I just hope she hasn't come back early.' He answers the questions in my mind, which begins to creep me out a bit.

'Does she go to Georgia often?' He shakes his head, though judging by his tenseness, he wishes she did.

'Not usually, but I think someone in her family is ill, so she keeps visiting.' He steps out of the pickup after this, and walks the whole way around to my door, which he opens, and I suspiciously question it.

'I can open a door, why the sudden gentleman?' I say defensively, he just rolls his eyes.

'It will make it easier to get Edward out, so if you come out gently we can both grab his arms again.' He replies rather aggressively, driving through Gotham can really give people a short thuse. I comply, however, and move my body so Edward can no longer rest his head on my shoulder. I move toward the ajar door and wait for Jonathan to confirm he is ready, he does this with a quick jerk of his head and I take a step out of the pickup. Edward carefully follows behind me, his legs shaking as he tries to find his balance, just before he can step out of the pickup, Jonathan grabs his other arm and we lead him onto the old veranda.

It's only now that we realize, that Edward is only in his pyjamas, his feet bare and probably freezing cold by now, so we try to get him inside as soon as possible. It takes a while for Jonathan to get the door open, as he keeps fumbling with the key, but eventually he gets us inside and locks the door. I don't have time to scan the room as Jonathan takes us straight to a moth bitten couch, we gently let Edward lie down. Jonathan disappears, so I help Edward pull his legs onto the couch, he seems to be less pale after the fresh air got into his lungs.

Jonathan then reappears with a damp towel, glass of water and a blanket. I help him by taking the glass of water off him, not wanting a spillage to clean up afterwards, but once Jonathan has draped the blanket over Edward, I see that he got a bowel as well. We work together again, putting the damp towel on his forehead and letting him have sips of the cold water, Jonathan even gets me a plaster for my cut, which I place gently over my finger.

I check my watch, only to see that I'm half an hour over my curfew, but the strange thing is that my dad hasn't called me yet. I check my phone and see no missed calls, not even one text; I find it strange, and worrying.

'I can take you home if you want, Edward will be fine here.' Jonathan offers, but then I think that there is no way Jonathan will be able to look after Edward all night on his own.

'I can always stay over; we could take shifts, if that's alright with you.' Jonathan first thinks about rejecting the offer, then watches Edward cough for the hundredth time.

'There's a spare room up the stairs and to the left, I'll take the first shift, just make sure your dad is alright with it first.' He adds, remembering that I have a curfew. I stand from my crouched position and find the home number; he should have finished work by now. I listen to the slow beeps, one, two, three, and seven. It goes to his voicemail, I wait for the bleep and speak my message.

'Hey dad, the reason I left school was because Edward was really ill, it was during lunch and there was no one in school to help him. We managed to get him to a friend's house, he's still ill so I'm going to stay over to help look after him. I'll come home around six so I have time to get ready for school, bye.' I remove the phone from my ear and press a button, placing the phone back in my pocket. Edward smiles at me, which makes me uncomfortable but I rub it off, he's just showing his appreciation.

'So it's the room on the left, right?' Jonathan nods, so I head towards the stairs and climb. I come to the door, opening it slowly; I see an old single bed with wooden banisters stretching to the ceiling. Most of the wallpaper is beginning to peel off, but I guess the Crane residence doesn't get many visitors. I don't bother to take my hoodie off, I simply fall onto the bed, the pillow hard and near impossible to lie on, but somehow I fall asleep. Jonathan wakes me up after two hours of interrupted sleep, so I head down to look after Edward. This change in shifts happens all night, Jonathan and I getting about four hours sleep each. I think both of us don't mind it really, after all, it's better than having to clean up Edward's blood.

* * *

**I'm so glad that i'm getting back into this story, i love writing it, and i hopefully will be writing more but school has got me doing loads of homework, damn you school (shakes fists angrily). But seriously, i don't know what i would do without fanfiction and you brilliant people, it's helped me become a better writer and makes me feel closer to the characters (hopefully that doesn't sound too sad -). Thank you so much, and please review as always**

**~GothGirlStrikesAgin**


	6. The Morning After

**Another chapter, definantly getting back into this story. Admittedly, not one of my best chapters but i think it turned out alright. From now on i'm going to try and move this story along to when they are older, so hopefully around chapter ten i'll be getting to the end og high school, that's the plan anyway.**

**Thanks to Taylor Snape13 for reviewing this and Stood To Close To The Fire.**

**I got a new picture for the story as you can see, finally managed to work out picture editor but i'm not brilliant. But yeah, Jude law will be adult Eddie, cause he's awesome and i personally think he would make a great riddler.**

**This chapter does have an adult theme, just as a warning to any sensitive readers out there.**

**Avril Lavigne's new single i got to hear yesterday, and already i'm loving it! Great to have a bit of old school instead of the new stuff (that is somehow called music -_-)**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS EXCEPT MY OCs ALL THE REST BELONG TO DC COMICS OR THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS.**

**with that done, on with the chapter...**

* * *

_Singing_ _radiohead at the top of our lungs,_

_With the boom box blaring as we're falling in love,_

_I got a bottle of whatever, but let's get in this truck,_

_Singing here's to never growing up,_

_Avril Lavigne ~ Here's to never growing up_

* * *

I place the damp towel over Edward's forehead again, he stopped vomiting about an hour ago, but I keep the bowel close at hand just in case. He's even more talkative now, still his throat is sore and croaky, but he tries to make light conversation. I check my watch, seeing that it's four in the morning, the time seemed slower last night. I can't hear anything moving upstairs, so I assume Jonathan is still asleep. I'm sure he left me to sleep for an extra hour before I had to take my shift, but I'll wait for him to wake up before he can confirm it.

'You didn't have to do this, neither of you; I was fine on my own.' Edward says persuasively, but I merely look at him with a scolding glare.

'Stop lying, you would have struggled on your own. This is what friends do; help each other, isn't that how it used to be?' It's a rhetorical question really, because we both know the answer is yes. He doesn't try to convince me after that, but does try to sit up, though his body is still weak. I help him up, the bowel at the ready, but he doesn't vomit, in fact, he looks less pale. He smirks at me, proving that he is right, that he could sit up. I roll my eyes; sometimes I do think he believes he's always right.

'See, you don't need to mother me anymore.' He retorts to my eye roll, I sigh, feeling drowsy even though it's been two hours since I got woken up. I sit next to Edward, the couch softer than I expected, he scoots over to give me more room, or so our legs don't touch. Suddenly the awkwardness returns, I can even hear my watch clicking it's so quiet. I find myself tapping my foot against the floorboard, making a light tapping sound. 'ADHD acting up, I thought it wasn't that bad.' Edward comments quietly, I simply stare at the floor, sadness over coming me.

'Nope, it's a severe case, but I haven't had time because of you, worrying me to death.' I remark jokily which I hear him chuckle at. I wish I could make it less awkward, like it used to be, but we can't go back, we can only go forwards. At least we are trying to make small conversation, not leaving the silence to have its day, which is until we run out of things to say. In the end, I say something I know I will regret later. 'So want to play riddles?' Riddles was our nickname for sharing riddles, we used to play it a lot when we were kids, but Edward always won.

'Erm, yes, ok' he struggles to find words at the surprising question 'do you want to go first?' I nod, now trying to remember any riddles off the top of my head. I don't succeed in finding any, so I try to think of a memory to kick-start my brain. I think back to that day under the oak tree, the golden rays and the bird flying through it, making large shadows in the sky.

'I am a creature that rises from the ashes, a creature with golden wings and I intrigue men with my fire, what am I?' Edward scrunches his eyebrows as he concentrates, but it doesn't take him long, it never does.

'Phoenix the answer is Phoenix.' Edward says brightly, before coughing as his throat tickles. I nod, but I know I don't need to confirm it, we both know he's right. Thinking about that day, I remember why we were there, his birthday. I lie back in the couch, a hand placed against my forehead, during all the panic, we had forgot it was Edward's eighteenth birthday, and my present is still in my school bag, in Jonathan's pick up. Edward gives me a questioning stare at my sudden silence, but he waits for me to answer, rather than pushing me to answer. I turn to him, an apologetic look on my face.

'We forgot your birthday, we had presents as well, I'm so sorry Edward.' He shrugs his shoulders, I hear a click, and I guess the time lying down didn't help his bones all that much. His modest shrug about his birthday isn't all that surprising, a birthday never really celebrated in his home, but Jonathan and I can't let Edward forget his eighteenth.

'Don't worry, you did drag me here and a simple birthday can slip a mind, it's only human nature.' He says maturely, his voice sounding different, deeper, but it could just be the food poisoning. I think Edward is more comfortable than I am, that's a swap, after all, he used to be the shy one. The thought makes me think of Mr Nashton, he changed everything, why did he have to be such a Barstard.

Edward notes my shifty movements, analysing my foot tapping the floorboard again, he thinks, going over everything yesterday. He remembers my relief at seeing him alive, indeed not well, but alive, and my fear at the door slamming open. He puts the puzzle pieces together, taking his time, making sure he got everything in its right place; he had to be _sure_. He thought of middle school, exactly when I began to become distant and shy, just after Christmas. They had gone to a pub, partially his father's idea. It was just after she came from the toilets, now, he thought how much she flinched when someone walked past, and she had been shivering for hours. He hadn't noticed it at the time, but she had a speckle of fresh blood on her skirt, just a tiny speck but he remembered. Then his father had walked past and…oh… he didn't, he couldn't have done _that_.

Edward sits up, his spine straight, he stares at me, a slight tilt of his head and a questioning cross shock sketched onto his face. He opens his mouth, and then closes it, struggling to find the right words, and then he decides to test his theory rather than ask it.

'I'm a five letter word, people eat me, remove my first letter and I am a type of crime, what am I?' He hoped he wasn't right, this one time, he didn't want to be right. I reply with a look of confusion, not understanding the riddle at all, my face resembles a fish, my mouth slightly open, eyes squinting slightly.

'Edward, I don't know wh-' He cuts me off but answering the riddle, it brings fear and anger to my mind.

'Rape…the answer is rape.' He couldn't read all the emotion shown in my eyes, only fear, anger and deep sadness were the ones he could read. Even though how much he hated the reality, it explained many of his puzzles, the riddles that kept him from a distance, the secrets he couldn't hack into now revealed. Middle school, how stupid he had been, how could he not had noticed it earlier, was his father right, was he a moron after all. No, he wasn't a moron he had proved this multiple times, he didn't need to prove it to the beast, he was smart, smarter than any of his peers!

Vengeful thoughts filled his mind, that degraded Neanderthal was a beast, why had he cowered for so long, he could have beaten him, he was smarter! Something brushed in his vision, tears streaming down a face, the sound of silent crying he could hear next to him. He turns to see me crying into my hands, these hands covering my face, hiding from the world. The anger melts as he witnesses this, not sure of what to do, crying girls not a usual predicament for him.

'I didn't want anyone to find out, the embarrassment' I choke from inside my hands, wondering if Edward can understand me at all 'he told me…he told me my dad would be ashamed of me if I told him. It hurt, it hurt so much, I could smell all the alcohol from his breath. I thought the best way to keep away from him, was to ignore you, then he would have no reason to come anywhere near me.' I finish while falling back into the couch, tears still streaming down my face and onto my clothes. I can't think, my mind evilly flashes memories of that night, the smell of urine and beer filling my nostrils…the blood, so much blood. The tears keep on falling, I have no self-control now, my hands shaking violently, and I struggle to breathe normally.

Edward, I can just see in my blurry peripheral vision, is trying to think of something to say. He rubs his hands on his pyjamas just to try to cure his awkwardness, I don't want him to be awkward…I just want to forget it ever happened. I use my fingers to wipe the salty tears away, breathing oxygen through my nose as I feel my lungs screaming for decent air.

The silence is broken by the sound of footsteps upstairs, a thump and a moan follows, which I can only assume Jonathan _fell _out of bed. The footsteps continue; they climb slowly down the stairs, walking into the room with us. Jonathan appears from behind the couch, hair a complete mess, heavy bags under his eyes, he looks even paler than normal.

Acting natural was never my forte, and with him wanting to become a psychiatrist, it didn't take him long to realize something wasn't right. He analyses Edward first, looking for a weak point, and he can see that Edward is hiding something; by the way, he crunches his hands into knuckles on the arm of the couch.

'Have I missed something, you're not already trying to re-poison him are you Sylvia?'

'My father raped her.' Edward says plainly through gritted teeth, I kick him hard in the shin, he makes an 'ouch' noise before giving me a death glare. This glare sends me aback, never seeing Edward so angry before. Jonathan merely nods slowly, clearly taking what he just heard and calculating the right words, but I believe he is struggling.

'That…was unexpected.' He replies lowly, the words he is still unable to find. Edward just turns on him, a face of surprise at the simple reply.

'Unexpected, is that all you can say? Jon my father raped her and all you can say is 'unexpected'?' He questions, his voice forming a shout near the end.

'Don't turn on me, what exactly do you expect me to say? Oh that is sad, here have a cup of tea?' Jonathan replies sarcastically, I butt into the argument, standing up for emphasis.

'Will you two just stop, I am still in the room!' I shout, this immediately shuts both of the boys up, but I can see Edward sulking on the couch, even his arms are cross over his chest. I turn to Jonathan, waiting for his input on my past, knowing I will get an earful anyway, might as well be prepared for it. He rubs his chin, uncharacteristically avoiding my eyes as much as possible; he's still mature about the situation, not jumping into anything without thinking about it first. He finally looks at me, nothing of remorse or apology, more like inquisitiveness.

'I'm assuming you never went to the police, though I doubt they would do anything anyway. Did you ever go to…get checked out?' Judging by my glare, he gets that I didn't, he sighs, now rubbing his eyes. I can tell by his posture he is saying 'it's too early for this'.

I'm not sure where this conversation is going, or whether Edward will try and speak again, but which ever it is, it's cutting it close on time. To answer my own statement, I check my watch and see it's nearly quarter to six. I look up to see Jonathan watching me; he briefly glances at the watch before walking over to a coat stand and grabbing a jacket. 'This shouldn't take too long, Edward, you know where everything is, and for goodness sake stop acting like a child.' He adds sternly as Edward tries to protest.

Once Jonathan has his jacket and car keys, I say a quick goodbye to Edward, seeing him still pouting angrily on the couch. I walk with Jonathan onto the veranda and into the pickup, he avoids my eyes again, but I pretend as if I don't notice, not in the mood for another argument. Just as he starts the battered engine with a roar, I see my school bag; I quickly whip out the new jacket and jump out of the pickup.

I think Edward is surprised to see me, but he is more surprised when I hug him gently. I force the jacket into his hand and look him straight in the eye, not a single sign that I had just been crying my eyes out.

'What happens in the past, stays in the past…Happy Birthday Eddie.' I say quietly before rushing back out and into the pickup. Jonathan reverses out of the drive and down the cobble road, though it seems less bumpy now that I don't have an Edward resting on my shoulder. It isn't long before we see dark clouds circling above the city, then the patter of raindrops on the windows. Most of the car journey is in silence and quick glances, but it doesn't feel awkward, more like a mutual understanding silence. I focus on looking out the passenger window, a new habit which helps calm by nerves.

_This day couldn't get any worse._ I think in my head, but I think harshly of it, as if I've jinxed this day _to_ get worse. I can't sit still, either I lie back or sit up, but either way it annoys Jonathan, but he doesn't say anything, words still not found in his brilliant mind. As we enter The Narrows, I feel like it's my obligation to talk about the incident back at his house, even if I don't like it, Jonathan knows. I turn to look at him; he focusses on his driving but does acknowledge my movement.

'It was back in middle school, just before I started to ignore Edward. I was scared, scared of what my dad would think, what Edward would think…what everyone would think. The way the asshole twisted everything, made me believe it was my fault it happened, that I had triggered it, he changed everything.' I whisper the last part, staring out of the front window and at the car in front of us; I can hear Jonathan yawning quietly.

He doesn't say anything, so I use it as an invitation to continue. 'I never meant to hurt Edward, I just wanted to be as far away from his father as possible, I was being selfish, I know that now but I was ten and afraid…and being afraid makes you do stupid things.' I know Jonathan is interested now that fear has been mentioned but he still doesn't reply, so I give up and continue to stare out the window.

When Jonathan reaches the garage, I direct him to our apartment building, but deep down I know he hates not being in control of his car, let alone being told what to do. I feel anxiety once we're just outside the building, my dad still hasn't called me yet and I don't like it. Jonathan notices this, watching me intently as I exit the pickup; I turn to him with a small smile.

'Thanks for the lift Jonathan, could you tell me how Edward is tomorrow, assuming you're able to go to school?' He nods before replying.

'Of course and Sylvia…don't bottle it up, that's where the suicidal thoughts start to form.' I smile an appreciation smile before shutting the door and watching Jonathan drive off into the morning traffic. I stare up at the building, the intimidating largeness of the place, the small droplets falling onto my face and hair.

I walk inside into the warmth, feeling lazy; I take the elevator to floor forty three. Once the doors open, I exit and take my phone out my pocket, still the feeling of anxiety, as I get closer to home. I tap my dad's number in again and put the cold metal to my ear, as I walk along the hallway, I hear the distant sound of my dad's ringtone. I stop, my heart pounding, just ahead of me a door shaped light shines from the room inside. I walk forward, slowly as my feet feel heavy, the ringtone continues as I keep the phone to my ear, unable to move it.

I face the door, seeing it unlocked, I push it open. I follow the noise of the ringtone; passed the couch, passed the dining table…it comes from the kitchen. I swallow a lump in my throat and feel my heart beat out of my chest, my hand holding the phone starts to shake, as I get closer to the kitchen.

'Dad?' I whisper to the air the closer I get the kitchen counter, then I see a small trickle of blood seep into my shoe, the light squelch sickening to hear. I turn the corner and hide my eyes. I gasp into the phone, flashes of the lifeless eyes staring at me, I want to vomit, but I'm paralysed in place. 'Dad, what did you do?' I choke into the phone, though my question will never be fully answered. I stop calling my dad, knowing it's useless, instead with much effort as my hands continue to shiver, I type in the emergency number. Putting the phone to my ear once again, I fight back the urge to vomit and cry, knowing both of these things won't help the situation.

'Hello, this is the Gotham Police department, what is your emergency?' The not so cheerful voice of the receptionist echoes in my ear, I force my voice to work, not wanting her to put the phone down.

'I've just found my father dead; I think he's been murdered.' I can't say much else as I take shaky breaths.

'Ok, what is your location, I will send officers immediately.' I hold back a scoff, knowing immediately in the police means an hour of impatient waiting.

'Twenty Fourth Street, apartment building B and the apartment number is forty three.' The line ends and I find myself alone with my dad's corpse, I pace backwards and forwards unable to concentrate on standing still, already figuring out who would have done this. I think of Nashton, but he wouldn't want to kill him, he's too much of a coward to commit murder.

Then there's the man in the garage yesterday, Falcone, he wanted to go somewhere more private, why not his own home? No one in this building would give a shit, if they heard gunshots; they would keep quiet about it. I pin my suspects down to Falcone and his mobsters, now I wait for the police on their verdict, but they won't do anything about Falcone, he's too high up in the crime rates for them to do anything…but that doesn't mean I can't.

I find it creepy how easily I am with death, even if it is my own father, worrying whether Edward was alive or dead may have triggered something, a deep personal emotion that makes me comfortable around corpses, or maybe I'm just strange, that would put it simply.

I sit on a dinner chair, keeping my back facing the kitchen, the blood still wet on my shoes, but I don't go near it, can't let forensics think I did it, but technically I have proof I was away all day yesterday and only just came back a few hours ago when I had found him. All of this makes me think, how is it I just know how to react, how to think outside the box, why do I understand how detectives _think_? Maybe too much Sherlock Holmes when I was younger, that would explain it.

I hear the distant sound of sirens, a lot sooner than I had expected. I don't move though, still not wanting to look at my dad lying dead on the floor, I can stomach being in the same room as a corpse…but make me look at it and you'll be cleaning vomit off the floor. I look out the window, the rain becoming heavier, the patter turning into rock pelts.

_My day got officially worse_…

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**As i said, dark theme there, but that was the secret and it's been revealed. Can't wait to carry on, got loads of ideas for Sylvia now so hopefully this will all go as planned, rather doubt that. Please review!**

**~ GothGirlStrikesAgain**


	7. Applied Sciences

**Another chapter, i'm on a roll here! Bit of a cliffhanger at the end there, but i've been planning that since the first chapter, well, i've been planning most of the secrets since the first chapter. But yeah, a little more will be revealed in this chapter a long with somethings for when they are older.**

**Okay i hope i've got most of this right since it's been months since l ast watched any of the nolan films, i will have to re-watch them at some point anyway.**

**So close to the end of high school now, i can almost taste it, got a big fanale planned Mwahahha! **

**Even though i don't like taylor swift all that much, well i liked the old country taylor not the new one always singing about her break ups. And i thought of this song while thinking about Edward and Sylvia's relationship when they were younger, and how it was christmas time when she began to ignore him. Then i thought of Back To December, which is one of my all time favourite Taylor Swift song.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS EXPECT MY OCs ALL THE REST BELONG TO DC COMICS OR THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS.**

**With that done, on with the chapter...**

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_And then the cold came,_

_The dark days,_

_When fear crept in my mind,_

_You gave me all your love, but all i gave you was goodbye..._

_Taylor Swift~ Back To December_

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The police interview room was slightly intimidating, but nothing I couldn't handle, after all, I do go to Gotham High. Gotham High too many students is a prison, but at least they let you leave, unlike the police Station.

I had just been questioned, the main questions being spaced apart with a few unneeded questions to get me to open up, there wasn't a bad cop good cop routine, but I doubt that ever works on any of the criminals. The main questions were when I found the body, how long was I out of the house, anybody that would want to bring harm to him, the usual stuff.

The cops themselves didn't seem overly bothered about finding the killer, murder in this city happens every day. I know who did it, but I can't blurt out how I saw Falcone with my dad, especially as it was in school hours then having to explain why I went into an apartment without permission, just too complicated.

The cops left me alone half an hour ago, but I'm guessing there is CCTV in the room, judging by the glass, which I guessed early on was one way glass. They left to call a guardian; this guardian more likely will be Grandpa Fox as he is now my only living relative. I sigh, my eyes feeling heavy, all of this ordeal with only four hours sleep, not a good combination, but I stay sharp, in case any more questions I will have to answer.

Due to my boredom, I take in the room's scenery, which isn't much. Plain white walls with the dying grey, a large brown door just in front of me, the small table metal as well as the chair I'm sitting on. The only thing worth looking at is the ceiling, a few words of anger towards the cops, assuming they could never get it off or can't be bothered to get a cleaner to do it. Most of the writing is in black marker, this black marker unable to be cleaned off easily, but a name catches my eye as I stare at the grey ceiling.

Mad dog, that's an old name, Mad dog was the one that killed Amadeus Arkham's wife. Some of the city's history I remember, this piece of history being how Arkham Asylum started, though it doesn't help any of the insane sent there, I believe it only makes them worse. The boredness over comes me again after I go over Mad dog and his connections in the criminal world, this taking longer than most as Mad Dog was notorious with his crimes.

The sound of the door opening interrupts my history lesson; a cop looks at me sympathetically, his bushy moustache brown and covering his top lip. His hands are full with two cups of what I assume to be coffee; he walks passed the table and hands one to me, I simply nod my thanks. He sits in the chair opposite me, his own coffee put to his lips, I find mine too hot and leave it for a bit, and placing it on the table as my palm feels, it's warmth. He places his own coffee down once he's taken a sip and looks at me sympathetically again, I don't feel uncomfortable with this, just annoyed with this attention while the killer roams this city without a care in the world.

'Your dad was a good man; he fixed my car a few times, always handy with the engine.' The cop says to grab my attention, but I keep quiet, not in the mood for a conversation right now. 'I know about your mother as well Miss Tyler…' This grabs my attention, not many people know about that, even I don't know the full story. 'I remember her case, but what I don't understand, is why the murderer didn't kill _you_. No offense but a child so young would be an easier target. Especially when it was only you and your mother in the apartment.' I don't remember much of that night, what I do I keep locked up in my mind, the only thing I truly remember is a back with tally marks cut into the skin, maybe about four of them but they were easily noticed. They still haven't found the killer, and I doubt they ever will, it was a long time ago after all.

The cop takes another sip of the coffee; I still don't drink mine, the heat enough to keep me awake.

'What if I said, I knew who killed him?' I ask gingerly, looking up at the cop, his face rock solid at the question.

'If you did know, we would need evidence to back up your statement.' He says plainly, but he knows that I wouldn't have any evidence, even if I did know who it was. I think he knows as well, the police already know about Falcone and his mobsters, more likely a few of these cops are being paid by him to keep quiet and do his dirty work.

That's why I hate mobsters like Falcone, if you're too coward to do your own work you shouldn't have so much power over others. 'Your Guardian is here, Mr Fox is your grandfather isn't he?' I nod, so the cop escorts me out of the room and into the waiting area where I see my grandpa sitting in one of the chairs.

When he looks up to meet my eyes, I tackle him with a hug, just happy to see someone in my family alive. He doesn't object, in fact, he holds me tightly as we lose someone all over again. The cop seems slightly out of place as he waits for us to finish hugging, coughing in his hand once he gets uncomfortable. I turn to look at him, and he hands me a piece of scrap paper with a number written neatly onto it.

'If you have any suspicions or problems be sure to call this number.' He walks away to join his cop peers, I find myself hugging Grandpa Fox again as I want to keep him safe, I can't let anybody else die, not him. He finally unravels me from him and looks at me with understanding eyes, after all, he lost his only daughter to a killer before, as well as me losing her as my mother.

'Mr Earle only let me come and get you, we have to go back to Wayne Tech but he agreed for you to help me work.' He says gently in his accent, I nod, my voice not wanting to work for some reason. Therefore, we walk together out of the Police Station and to the 1967 Cadillac Eldorado, my grandpa always one for style when it comes to cars. I whip into the passenger seat, wanting to get as far away from the Police Station as possible, but being how old my Grandpa is, he takes his time and starts the engine with a purr. He chuckles and taps the wheel, as if he's saying 'good girl' I struggle to understand why men think of their cars with such emotion, maybe I'll never know.

Therefore, we begin our journey to Wayne Tech, which luckily isn't that far from the Police Station so the journey isn't that long. As we drive with the mid-morning traffic, I think about Edward and Jonathan, I should have asked if they had a phone number or something that I could use to call them. Now would be a good time since I doubt Grandpa will let me go to school tomorrow, not after this, but he does care about my education but he understands that I won't be able to concentrate with my father's murder hanging over my head.

Whenever I think of mom, I think of her being like him, a joy to be around even in the most horrible situations, always trying to crack a joke and his unique chuckle. I really did do well with my Grandpa, I wouldn't want to change him for the world, he understands me like mom did, which I am always grateful for.

Before I know it, we drive into the car park and he parks the car perfectly between the two yellow lines. He heads out of the car first, closely followed by me as I gently close the door, not wanting to get into his bad books already. I try to act okay with everything, trying to move on the best I can but something keeps nagging in the back of my head. Why was my father even doing working for Falcone? Desperation is part of the answer but what was he doing for him, fixing his car, getting money for him? These stay at the back of my head and annoy me for the rest of my time in Wayne Tech.

'If there is a place to forget the outside world, it's applied sciences.' My Grandpa shouts as we walk down a darkened hallway, a massive white hallway. As I said, I have no idea what my grandpa does, but whatever it is, it's big. He walks over to a desk with a bright computer screen the only light in this part of Wayne Tech. Then he pulls a switch and all the lights come on, I stand in awe as all the machines come to life along the corridor. He chuckles before placing a hand on my shoulder, he follows my gaze to all of the equipment and machines, and I defiantly can't speak now.

'I suppose it's a better job than a postman, let's have a tour shall we.' He escorts me down the hallway and to the machines, as we walk past; I notice a large tank type of vehicle hidden in the corner, the tyres a midnight black and gigantic. He continues down the hallway until we get to the weaponry area, which sends my spirits even higher. I know this stuff was designed to kill, but the futuristic weapons are completely astounding.

He lets' go of my shoulder and walks over to a metal drawer type object, pulling the centre drawer open, he pulls out a metal object about the size of my hand. He puts his fingers inside a holder, and then swings the object lightly; suddenly it expands into a metal bow. I can't help but smile at the scientific bow, the metal is a dismal grey but the sleek design makes up for it. He tentatively hands it to me, I place my hand inside the holder as he did, and hold it up to the light, and the metal shines against the brightness and almost blinds me. I move it in front of me, doing the same movement as Grandpa Fox did; the bow retracts into its original position, which nearly gives me a hard attack.

'I thought you would like that, it was designed to be used by the military as a stealth weapon, guns being too noisy for certain missions… the arrows are even more impressive.' As soon as he says this, he pulls out an arrow holder full of metal arrows, they are placed perfectly and don't wriggle while he moves the holder to give me a better look. He gently pulls one out, the tip a silver metal and large compared to the original tips back in medieval times. 'These have different types of arrows, explosive, grapples, fire and gas. The gas ones are filled with a knock out gas that lasts for half an hour.' He adds at my confused expression, he analyses the arrow before putting it back in the holder.

He doesn't hand this to me, thinking I might do a lot of damage if he did, instead, he opens the bottom drawer and gives me a metal arrow, but I can tell it's just a plain one.

'Let's see how good your aim is, the target is just there.' He points to a target board about twenty metres away, considering I've never fired an arrow in my life, this is a big deal. I swing the bow to let it expand, and then gently try and place the arrow on the black string, this takes a while, as it is extremely delicate. I pull back my arm, thus pulling the arrow; I squint my eyes and focus on the tiny target. I stay calm, trying not to shake too much, once I feel comfortable, I quickly let the arrow go and watch it fly towards the target. It misses completely; I turn to grandpa and see his mouth open and a hidden smirk hiding behind a hand.

'You've never had archery lessons, have you?'

'Nope, never.'

'That was… a good try, a_ very_ good try.' We chuckle together, putting the bow and death arrows away, thinking that those have been played with enough today. He walks me further into the abyss of weapons, coming to another metal drawer, and again, he opens it to reveal a metal pipe about the width of a snooker stick, he presses a button and it contracts to its full length, almost poking me in the eye. He swings it around before handing it to me; I twist it in my fingers, careful not to hit any of the other strange objects in this area.

It's extremely light and easy to move, so much so that I can twist it above my head without hitting the side of my skull. 'This is nothing special, would have been used for combat training, except they thought it was a waist of five hundred dollars per model. Still, could help train the newer recruits, combat a necessary skill nowadays.' He finishes as he watches me retract the metal bar, all of this is amazing, I can't even find words, I'm officially speechless.

'I wish you'd told me earlier, this stuff is awesome.' I finally say, handing the metal bar back to him carefully.

'You're lucky you're in here at all, but Mr Earle wants younger people working down in Wayne Tech, fresh minds with ambition he says.' My grandpa replies as he puts the weapon away, but I can see how much he is aging, and I feel sorry for him.

'Come on, they can't get rid of you, without you there would be no one to look after all of this.' I motion my hand to represent all of the equipment, I hear him chuckle, his back facing me.

'All I do is keep this stuff from the media and keep it quiet, nothing special, but at least it gives us time to play with some of this stuff before it collects dust.' He says wisely, and he walks me back to the desk that we were at originally. The computer flashes with scientific numbers and words, all of them going over my head. He sits at the desk, filing some of the files on the desk, his glasses in front of his eyes.

I expect him to make me do something useful, instead of just standing around looking bored, but he doesn't, he simply carries on with his work. I spin on my heel, using the desk to make me go faster, as I spin, all of the equipment looks blurry. After a while, I feel dizzy and stop, but the boredom is still there.

'Grandpa?' No reply 'Can I try those arrows again, the normal ones?' He looks up at me, taking his glasses off to look me in the eye.

'Just as long as you don't break anything, you're just like your mother, no sense of patience.' He sighs with a smile on his face; I say a quick thanks and rush over to the drawer. I free the retract bow from its home and swing it, and it comes to life in my fingers, I then grab the plain arrows from the bottom drawer. I pull the bag over my shoulder, the belt diagonally over my chest. I step so I'm in front of the target, I gingerly grab an arrow and place it into the bow. Again, I stay calm and concentrate on the target, and again I let go of the arrow…it misses…again. I do this another three times and still I completely miss the target, I become aggravated at the fourth miss.

'Archery takes patience Sylvia.' I hear Grandpa Fox chuckle from his desk, I moan angrily as another arrow misses.

'Screw patience!' I shout back at him, forgetting everything that had happened today. I quickly grab an arrow and place it in the bow, without even trying to aim it I let go. It whizzes towards the target, spinning beautifully through the air…and hits the bull's eye. I shout my victory, raising the bow above my head as if I'm a soldier. 'I did it Grandpa, I did it!' I shout happily, he laughs from his desk and I can't help but grin insanely as I stare at the arrow in the centre of the target. Who knew going to work with your Granddad would be so much fun.

We get to his apartment around nine o clock, my bag hanging from my shoulder. I didn't go into the apartment, unable to be anywhere near that hell but Grandpa Fox did, getting permission from the forensics team to get my clothes and other things of my belongings. The bag feels heavy on my shoulder; most of it spare clothes and a few photographs.

It takes a while for him to find the right key, all of his keys on one chain that he uses for work as well. Nevertheless, once he opens the door, I feel safe and secure. His apartment is a lot like my father's, only it's spaced out differently, the kitchen in the corner furthest from the bedrooms, the dining room where the kitchen would be. The cream colour is the same and the built in lights shine brightly above our heads, seeing the apartment makes me remember dad, and I find my appetite is gone.

He puts his jacket on the coat rack, and he motions for me to do the same. I know my way around his apartment, I used to visit a lot around the time mom died, sleeping in her old room was creepy but it made me feel closer to her. Therefore, I put my bag in the bedroom, pulling out my pyjamas and putting them on, happy to finally be out of the clothes I've worn for two days straight. I place these at the bottom of the bag to be washed later on; I walk back out into the main room to find Grandpa Fox on the couch with the Gotham News blaring.

I join him, cuddling up to him as I used to do when I was little. He sighs against my head watching the TV screen intently, now I see why. It shows a picture of my dad's apartment, a newsreader just outside the building with police cars and forensics outside in the cold. I wonder why they are making such a big deal; after all, murders happen every day. However, the newsreader says something, which drops my spirits to rock bottom.

_'David Tyler was murdered yesterday evening, no one is sure of the time since his daughter Sylvia Tyler found him the next day. Police believe Mr Tyler was smuggling drugs, as they found cocaine residue on his jacket as well as in his workplace. They believe the murderer was the leader of the operation, Mr Tyler either trying to back out of the crime or was unable to pay the money, either way, this gentle man has lost much trust from this society.' _She finishes with a robotic tone; I feel a tear trickle down my face. Drugs, this whole time he had been working with _drugs_, I sit up, shocked at this discovery. Grandpa Fox turns the TV off, turning to me with a true sadness in his eyes; I excuse myself and head into the bedroom.

I close the door, wanting to pull my hair out and wanting to scream aloud. A powerful migraine hits my forehead; I rub it vigorously, unable to be gentle as my anger shows. He had lied to me behind my back, dealing drugs and working with Falcone, and now Falcone has killed him. I can't think straight, the migraine getting worse. I pull the bag off the bed and dive under the covers, hiding from the world.

* * *

Grandpa Fox lets me off school for a good week, giving me time to face everyone at school. During this time, I go with him to work, learning to use the bow and arrows the best I can, finding it puts my mind off everything. I never see this Mr Earle as he never comes down to Applied Sciences, but I do get paid five dollars every hour I help Grandpa Fox, but I find it fun anyway and find the money a bonus.

The police continue to investigate my father's murder, but nothing else is broadcasted onto the news, which I seem to be watching more over the last week. I know it's never going to be good news, but I always check just in case there _is _news. The number on the scrap paper that the cop gave to me is still on the desk counter in the bedroom, untouched as I don't want to give my say about my suspicions.

It's strange staying in that room more than a few days, and I struggle to get eight hours sleep, but I know I have to get used to it. Grandpa Fox is officially my guardian now; a letter came through the letterbox with a confirmed certificate. I'm glad of this, not wanting to go to an orphanage and away from him.

There is only one problem being away from school, well, two. One: I haven't seen or heard Edward and Jonathan since last week, two: Exams. The final exams that will determine our future will start soon, and I have no idea what I want to do. I could always work with my Grandpa in Applied Sciences, but I doubt Mr Earle will pay me full time if I haven't got any qualifications. I know one thing is certain, I am not working as a waiter in some restaurant, that's a no go, I _need_ some qualifications. It's going to be harder when I have no idea what I've missed, most of our final lessons are the most important and I've missed them.

I think about this as I have my breakfast on the following Wednesday, finally ready to face everyone. Grandpa Fox sits with me, a change as it used to only be me at home during breakfast time. We eat our cereal quickly, as neither of us wants to be late, but fear as to what people will say fills my head. Instead, I try to think about how I'm going to catch up, I could ask Jonathan what we've been doing in Psychology, if he can still tolerate me. Then there's Edward, after how he reacted to finding about his dad raping me, I don't know what to expect from him. I hope that he'll be willing enough to help me study.

I finish my breakfast and head to grab my bag from the couch, I hear Grandpa call me back to the table and walk back over.

'I'll drive you, and then I can just drive straight to Wayne Tech once I've dropped you off.' He says after swallowing the last of his cereal, I nod my head as he grabs a jacket and I follow him out of the apartment. As we walk outside into the rain, only one thought crosses my mind:

_Welcome to hell that is adulthood…_

* * *

**Again, not one of my best chapters but i wanted to get Applied Sciences and Grandpa Fox into the story more, being as they will be more important later on. I know Sylvia was quite mature to begin with (in a sense), but now she's going to be even more mature. And yeah EXAMS, i'm not looking forward to mine, i'm in year nine and already they keep going on about them, not that they shouldn't but the pressure to do well is killing me. I struggle with maths and as that is one of the most important skills, i'm kinda scared.**

**I'm not really sure how Exams work in America, so i'm gonna do it as we do at my school. ONLY THREE MORE CHAPTERS! Seriously, i'm not trying to rush this story but i really want to get onto writing The Riddler and Scarecrow as well as Sylvia, whom i have lots of plans for. Please Review as always!**

**~GothGirlStrikesAgain**


	8. Anna Is A Bitch

**And another chapter, inspiration just keeps flying in! **

**Thanks to MidnightFedora for the review, really pushed me to do another chapter.**

**Okay, maybe not be able to update ask quickly as i have done because i have homework i was supposed to be doing, well, i was supposed to do it over the weekend but got too caught up with doing this.**

**This chapter, i don't know, a bit different from the other ones as you will see, and i'll explain why afterwards.**

**DISCLAIMER: (seriously?) I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS EXCEPT MY OCs ALL THE REST BELONG TO DC COMICS OR THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS.**

**With that done, on with the chapter...**

* * *

_She's like so whatever,_

_You could do so much better,_

_I think we should get together now,_

_And that's what everyone's talking about,_

_Avril Lavigne ~ Girlfriend_

* * *

The Cadillac pulls up just outside the school's gates, and an air of anxiety fills the stylish car. My clothes are slightly crumpled due to their time in my bag, I'm being too careless when it came to my clothes now, not really caring what I look like. A plain white blouse and plain black jeans with black shoes is all I wear, just something thrown on but sensible.

I turn to Grandpa Fox, he can see I'm afraid of going back to school, but he is firm about my education, saying if I'm going to get anywhere in the world, I desperately need qualifications. He doesn't turn the engine off, the hum soothing as I begin to exit the car. I give him a quick kiss on the forehead and climb out, the cold breeze waking me up to face the reality even more.

'Just try your best, I can't ask more of you than that.' He says, leaning over the passenger seat to look at me directly.

'Yeah I know, don't bother coming to meet me, I'll just walk home.' I strain my throat, the word home shattering my heart a little more. He nods before turning the car off the pavement and towards Wayne Tech; I turn to the school and begin to walk towards it, keeping my head down.

_Out of sight, out of mind_

* * *

Nothing has changed, though I didn't think it would, everything is still dismal and depressing. I head straight to my locker, ignoring the whispers in the corridor and bustling of the other students. I know quite a few of us watch the Gotham news, mainly for something to gossip about, what better than a murder and a scandal. Therefore, I expected the odd whispered rumours here and there, but I stay out of it, worrying more about the upcoming exams.

With the odd bump into a shoulder, I make it to my locker unscathed, only to see a hunched over form leaning against the locker door. I'm surprised to see Adrian, not really talking to him, I thought he had finally given up on me.

I breathe in before going to meet him; he only looks up when I bash my knuckles against the metal, the noise making him jump as if he was asleep the whole time. He's lost most of his gothic look now, still red and black colours but…less Adrian. No eyeliner or a hooded top, his mangled black hair on show, I can even see how long it is now.

'Hey Sy, been a while.' He sounds depressed, not like his usual low voice, just complete depression. I even see him try to smile, this sends be aback as I've never seen him smile, ever.

'Yes, it has…Adrian, what happened to you.' I try to say this gently, not wanting him to take it offensively. He sighs at this, and I can see he hates that I've noticed, or he hates me, either way, he doesn't like it.

'You haven't heard; it's been going around for ages.' I shake my head, not understanding what he is going on about, so he continues. 'Me and Anna are…dating.' He forces the last word out, and I strain to hear it. I don't know how to react, expecting something completely different, but I have to remember it's high school, dating is a must now. I pull my bag up onto my shoulder as I begin to feel it slip; he stares at me waiting for my reaction.

'Oh' is all I can say 'how long for?' He counts this on his fingers; this tells me it's been a _long_ time.

'One month, two weeks, seven days and twenty five minutes.' The preciseness reminds me of Adrian's OCD, I sigh, leaning against the locker next to him.

'Enjoying dating life, I have been wondering what all the fuss is about.' I try to lighten the mood, but Adrian's depressive attitude is a dead giveaway. He turns to face me, I see straight into his eyes, and I know what he's going to ask next before he says this.

'Can we go somewhere, more private?' I nod my head and he pushes himself off my locker and down the corridor. Like every High school, there's always that one classroom that nobody goes to, well, they do go, only…for other activities. If you're smart enough, you stay away from those classrooms as people will think you're a pervert.

Adrian leads me to one of the darker corridors, this being more important than I had originally thought. We go right down to the bottom classroom and slid the door open, we leave it open because these doors are notorious for being stuck.

Once we're sure no one will eavesdrop, Adrian turns to me, eyes alight as he speaks his mind very quickly.

'Anna is a bitch, she pushed and pushed me to date her so I had to say yes, Then, she decides she knows what's best for me and starts running my life like I'm her fucking Barbie doll. She tells me what wear, what to say, basically everything that she wants me to do. Just to top it all off, she calls me every five minutes, I haven't been able to do any revision for the exams, not even ten minutes because she wants to go to see a movie.' He finishes his rant with a deep breath, then proceeds to slump in one of the desk chairs, hands rubbing his eyes.

I know he's struggling, but I have to hide a giggle behind my hand, his face expressions and his ranting voice too funny. I contain the humour and walk over to him, crouching down so I'm at the same level as him. I tap his arm, trying to comfort his altered ego.

'Just break up with her then.' He flops his hands onto the table with a glare that means 'are you fucking kidding me?' his rant continues so I listen intently, not wanting to say something out of order.

'You don't know what Anna's like, she won't take no for an answer…I've tried so many times, she doesn't listen.' He brings his hands up to his face again, and I get to smirk just a little then having to compose myself. Teenage drama was not something I had planned to face when coming back to school, but it's better than having to face bullies.

'Tell her firmly, she'll get it eventually. When she sees you're not happy, maybe she will take the hint and stop pestering you.' He scoffs in his hands, another non-Adrian thing; Anna has really messed with his head, and something you can't properly change back.

I continue to pat his arm, not really sure how to handle these situations, but I'm glad he still sees me as a friend to help him. 'Adrian… you don't still have a crush on me do you?' The question makes his muscles tense, I feel it in his arm, he brings his hands down again. He plays with the dust on the desk, his OCD not really sparking yet. I don't know what answer he'll say, or how I'll reply to it, but I need to know.

'To tell you the truth, I don' know, you haven't been around a lot so…I'm not sure.' A reasonable answer and something I can reply to without embarrassment. I take this slowly, picking my words carefully, as even I don't know about my own emotions recently.

'Ok, well…how about I stick around for a while, and if you still have a crush on me, we can take it from there.' I compromise; he nods his head, finally flicking his hand away from the dust, a disgust look on his face as he realizes he's been drawing with germs. I rub his arm, hating to see him so different from the Adrian in middle school, the quiet loner, but someone you could trust. Thinking about it now, I left him to fend for himself, after meeting Edward again; I ignored him, as I did with Edward so long ago. I'm a bad friend, fact, I leave one and find another, a cycle of selfishness. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ignored you it was wrong. Meeting Edward again, I don't know, made me want to fix what I broke. Instead, I just broke another friendship.'

'You should write poetry.'

'You should get a haircut.' I counter, seeing him smirk slightly, just like the old days. I think I see a spark in his eyes, or simply a shine of a light, but he sits up straight and entwines his hand with mine. My heart jumps, slightly unnerved by the interaction and slightly unsure of what to do.

The sound of the door opening wide makes both of us let go, spinning to look at the now ajar door. Anna stands in the doorway, eyes blazing with fury; I now remember that fury. She snaps her head between Adrian and me, trying to process what she's seeing, and turns on me instead of her want-to-be Ex-boyfriend.

'Sy, what do you think you're doing with my boyfriend?' The honey sweet tone is contaminated with teenage anger.

Shit… Is all I can think as I look at her blazing form, I'd rather have bullies calling me names then an Anna wanting my blood.

'Look Anna, it's not what you think, Adrian just wanted to talk.' I try to say to stop the fire, but it doesn't work, it makes it worse.

'Oh he just wanted a chat did he? In a darkened room where no one can interrupt you? Play the innocent victim all you want, I know you just want Adrian to get in your pants.' I stand in shock, wondering what the fuck just happened, how did she ever come to such a stupid conclusion?

'Whoa, it was nothing like that Anna, really, he just wanted to talk.' A burning pain crosses my face, my head twists to the side as Anna gives me a hard slap across the face. The searing heat makes me place a hand on top of it; I can feel the warmth on my fingers. Her eyes still blaze, just as much as her hair. I hear Adrian stand, he walks straight to me, ignoring Anna completely, and I feel his hand pull mine away from my face and check the red mark. I whisper a tiny 'I'm fine' and watch as he turns on Anna.

'Do you really think that's what this was about, how dumb are you? It was me that brought Sy here, because I wanted her advice on how to break up with you. Anna you drive me crazy, I can't think straight, I'm not being able to study because you're too clingy. Just face the facts Anna, this, was never going to work from the beginning, so move on already.' He says firmly, with a little too much meanness, but that's my opinion. Anna stands, shocked at the turn of events, we watch her fight back tears before running out of the door.

She pulls the door closed, and then continues to _lock_ it. Adrian rushes to the door, but to no avail as she locks it just before he bangs straight into the door. She taps on the wood, and then chokes through sobs of tears.

'Fine have it your way, at least now you two won't be disturbed at all!' She shouts through the door before pelting down the corridor. Adrian results to kicking the door, but pulls back as the pain makes him limp over to me. His face is one of apology, but I know it wasn't his fault, Anna is a bitch.

I rummage through my bag quickly, trying to find the new phone Grandpa Fox gave to me, just as a precaution. I hold it up, trying to get a signal, but I don't get one, we're trapped in a room and Anna is bound to start rumours from the go.

I walk over to the door, seeing if the hinges are rusty enough to break, but they look new. Instead, I slid down the door and sit on the floor, knowing we are going to be here for a while. Adrian joins me eventually, sitting on my left, he moans as his foot still hurts.

'You know when I said I should stick around…this isn't what I meant.' I say jokily, but I can tell Adrian isn't in the mood for jokes. He daydreams, staring across the classroom; we had to pick the one classroom without windows, figures. I suppose the situation means I won't have to worry about classes or gossip for a while.

The room is so dark, I can barely see into the far corner, all I know is this classroom was used for drama practice, judging by how little this room is used.

'I heard about your dad. Did you, know about the drugs?' The question doesn't surprise me, I've been waiting for it. I turn my head to face him, leaning against the door.

'No, I didn't know anything until they mentioned it on the news. I'm guessing you know it was me that found him, he was shot straight through the head, they wasn't any remorse or a struggle, they just shot him stone dead.' I whisper, the air silent as the conversation continues.

'I'm sorry, when I heard; I wanted to talk to you. What exactly did you do anyway, that whole week away from homework and classes?' He changes the subject, which I'm glad of, still feeling guilty because Falcone still walks free. I smile, the question making me remember Wayne Tech and Applied Sciences.

'Most of the time, I went to work with my grandpa.' I say brightly, waiting for the next question.

'Yeah, what does he do?'

'Sorry, that's off limits.' I grin as Adrian smirks, going all James Bond mode.

'A top secret job eh? What, does he have a suit, going around saying shaken not stirred?' We laugh together for the first time, but we don't go on about what my grandpa does, because he knows he won't get the proper answer. Once the laughter stops, we hear the bell for first period, Adrian curses, and his first lesson being Mathematics when mine is Psychology, so much for seeing Jonathan today. Adrian tries banging on the door again, seeing if anyone is nearby to hear us, but, of course, it doesn't work.

He sits next to me again, but this time sitting on his bag as the floor isn't that comfortable. We stay this way for most of the hour, sharing conversations about the exams and what we want to do when we're older. Luckily, it turns out I haven't missed much, it's this week where they go over everything for the exams, but neither of us will learn anything today, we'll be lucky if we get out of here by the end of the school day. We do talk about our future careers, but I still don't have a clue what I want to do, the adult world already showing me it's true colours.

'I've thinking about joining the police force, helping civilians and what not.' Adrian says absentmindedly, which I simply scoff at as I've had my own encounter with the police of Gotham.

'They're all corrupt, they don't care about helping people now, just how big their wallet is.' I say, speaking my mind in front of someone for once.

'Yeah, but our generation could change that, we could be better. We've proven so many times that our generation is different from all the others, we're smarter and faster at accomplishing stuff, we could finish what Thomas Wayne started. He wanted the perfect city where everyone is equal, no crime, no conspiracy just peace.' Everyone remembers Thomas Wayne and his vision; everyone remembers the night they died. It's like that time when something disastrous happens, and you remember exactly where you were. For me, I was drawing pictures of Alice in wonderland with Edward, not very exciting but I remember it. Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne's son disappears from the city a lot, but the media do try to continue to paparazzi his shattered life. He did go to this school briefly, but went away again as everyone asked him questions, I met him for about five minutes when he walked up to me, asking where English Literature was.

Thomas and Martha Wayne, they were to inspirational celebrities, always trying to make Gotham a better place to live. The said truth of it is, they were killed by the people they were trying to help, after that the city just got worse, and it will never get better.

'Adrian, all we've proved is that our generation is insane. Look at how many strange people we have in this school alone, Harleen Quinzel, Joker, Oswald Copplepot, and Pamela Isley and not to mention Drury Walker. When it's our turn, we'll just make it worse, spoiling it for the generations to come.' He doesn't try to argue with my logic, knowing it is partially right whichever way you look at it. We don't go on about it after that, knowing that if we did, we would just be at each other's throats.

The red handprint on my face starts to feel bruised, but I'm not surprised, she did give it a good wallop. We hear the bell go again for third period, but we don't even bother to try and call for help, the classroom is too far away from anyone. I start to feel stiff, sitting in one position too long, so I stand, and the clicks hurt my ears. I walk around the room a bit, trying to dislodge my joints that don't want to work.

'You can really go off some people.' I grumble as I blame Anna for all of this drama, hating her for being such a drama queen.

'Tell me about it.' Adrian replies, his voice starting to sound small again. He doesn't hide his face though, that is still seared into his brain, a command not needed to be said. Once I feel like myself again, I drop next to Adrian, my leg briefly brushing against his, and I feel the air go awkward. 'Sy, I think…I still have a crush on you.' The answer to the question finally answered, I don't know how to react, as I did back in middle school. I can't runaway now, I'm stuck in a room with him but I don't feel scared, I guess I knew for a long time.

I do the first thing that pops into my head; I lean closer to him and kiss him gently. He doesn't expect this, and wears a shocked look, before closing his eyes, letting the kiss happen. I feel my heartbeat faster, this being my first kiss, and in a sense, I'm glad it's with someone I know that cares about me. This kiss continues, for how long, I'm not sure, but we both feel breathless afterwards. He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, then placing the hand on my face, the red mark burning against his skin. He leans in to kiss me again, a little more passionately, his hand caressing my face.

We lock lips; nothing more happens than that, I'm not going to give that away that easily. It felt strange, nice and exciting, but strange. I think he had been dreaming of that moment a long time, and I think he was surprised how it was me that made the first move. The awkwardness leaves the room after that, both of us feeling more comfortable about ourselves. I'm not sure where this will go, or if this is just a one night stand sort of thing, but we momentarily forget the world around us.

He chuckles, trying to find words after he lets go of my face, red blushes appearing on his own pale one. I find it cute how embarrassed he is, rubbing the back of his head and tapping his knees to try and act natural. Who thought it would be so easy to make a guy embarrassed, but it's strange how I'm fine with it, I enjoyed it.

'I know it's soon after Anna, and the rumours won't help, but if you want…we could.' He turns to me, a questioning look on his face, still he stumbles over his words.

'Are you, asking me out?' He asks, wondering if he heard right.

'No, I'm asking you to grow wings. What do you think I'm asking?' I say, not really sure, where it came from, it just seemed to slip off my tongue.

'Erm, yeah, ok. To girlfriends in one year, got to be a record.' He laughs, as the final bell tolls. Both of us stand, banging the door continuously to get anybody's attention. We shout for ages, but the screams of freedom drowns us out. We stay stood up, hoping that at least one person will walk past us.

Suddenly, we hear high heels outside the door, and bang our fists against it again. We step back once we hear the door being unlocked, and we are met with Dr Young's surprised look at our appearances. We grab our bags and pull them onto our shoulders, not wanting to be locked in the stuffy room any longer. However, Dr Young still has questions for us, not letting us leave.

'What do you two think you're doing back here?' Adrian and I share a glance before I answer for us, explaining our case.

'Anna Richards locked us in here this morning, we were shouting for hours but no one came.' I say breathlessly as the sweet freedom is just in our reach. Dr Young analyses us, before deciding we're telling the truth, she sighs, letting us pass her and down the corridor.

'Don't let me catch you two down here again!' She shouts stern words as we speed walk towards the exit. We don't stop until we reach the safety of the outdoors, then burst out laughing as our insanity finally reaches the surface. It's now that I see a black Cadillac parked in the car park a few yards away. Grandpa Fox beeps the horn, grabbing both Adrian's and my attention properly.

'Do you want us to drive you home?' Adrian goes to decline but I'm already dragging him to the car, not letting him walk alone in The Narrows. We both sit at the back, Grandpa Fox watching Adrian intently, before driving out of the car park. Then the quiz begins, just as my dad would have if he had met Adrian.

'So you're the Adrian that I've been hearing about, you getting Sylvia in much trouble?' I cover my eyes with a hand, the embarrassment inevitable, as Grandpa Fox is just as over protective as dad was.

'No sir, no trouble at all.' Adrian answers normally, trying to get on his good side straight away.

'That's good to hear, because if I thought you would hurt her in anyway, your butt would be on the sidewalk.' He says, watching Adrian in the rear view mirror, I don't even try to stop him, because I won't win. I just give Adrian a sympathetic look as my Grandpa asks more questions, he holds my hand gingerly as his quiz continues.

'So Adrian…any plans for having children?'

* * *

**Some rubbish humour in this chapter, and romance... i hate romantic crap but thought Sylvia needed a first kiss, and i needed something to happen in this chapter so that explains it. i also wanted to get Adrian and Anna back into the story, them not being mentioned a lot since the first chapter. **

**They will be in the adult part of this story, which is why i thought you needed to see more of them. Sorry for the exsessive use of language but it's high school, there is always swearing.**

**Don't worry, Eddie and Jon will be in the next chapter, ONLY TWO MORE! Please review!**

**~GothGirlStrikesAgain**


	9. The Exams

**Here's another chapter, THE EXAMS! Not so much of the exams are in this chapter because i myslef found it boring after a while. The questions are typical maths questions on a mock exam, mainly because i wanted it to seem real.**

**Thanks to MidnightFedora for another lovely review, i'm glad you're liking this story so much.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS EXCEPT MY OCs ALL THE REST BELONG TO DC COMICS OR THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS.**

**With that done, on with the chapter...**

* * *

_You were everything, everything that i wanted,_

_We were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it,_

_And all of the memories, so close to me, just fade away_

_All this time you were pretending, so much for my happy ending,_

_Avril Lavigne~ My Happy Ending_

* * *

Over the next few days, I see Adrian more and more, we go to the school library after the bell to revise the stuff I missed as well as the stuff for the exams. I start to see the side of him I didn't know, the more gentler and happier side which is patient when I block some of my past out, this being Mr Nashton and Edward. Adrian understands that being with someone, is new to me, and agrees to take it slow, but the rumours bug us a lot. Anna intervenes every now and then, giving me the evil eyes as well as spreading new rumours, but I find them idiotic than annoying.

Jonathan does still tolerate me; in fact, he even helps me study the criminal psychology that I missed. Even he becomes more patient with me, going over the parts I don't understand, this being most of psychology but he doesn't seem to mind. He told me he had spoken to Edward once he had arrived home, saying he's still angry but does want to talk to me. I thank him, feeling as if I belong again, the trio along with Adrian as my boyfriend. Speaking of which, he doesn't mind me interacting with Edward and Jonathan, seeing that it keeps my spirits high and helps ease the pain of losing my dad.

Over the weekend, I went to Wayne Tech with Grandpa Fox again, still practising the bow and arrows and getting better on my aim. The few hours I have, I either revise or spend with Adrian. On the Sunday, he took me to watch Sherlock Holmes and the game of shadows. I loved every minute of it, Sherlock Holmes being an unhealthy obsession of mine; I couldn't help but notice how much Edward resembled the person playing Watson, Jude Law I believe his name was.

Soon enough, the weeks of the exams begin, and my brain goes on overload. When I mean overload, I mean I forgot pretty much _everything. _I had to doquick revision in the morning as I ate breakfast, just to remember the important parts. Grandpa Fox knew better than to disturb me, and gave me space so I wouldn't get too worried. My first two exams would be the ones I hate the most, Maths and Psychology, great exams to start with.

Grandpa Fox dropped me off at the gates, saying words of wisdom before I entered the exam room.

'Just stay calm, keep your head down, and do as many questions as you can.' Once this was said, he drove off, leaving me to find the exam room for maths and begin the long process of answering questions that made little sense.

Just as I walk up the steps, a hand grabs my shoulder; I turn to see a sheepish Edward standing on the step below me. He's wearing the jacket I got for him on his birthday, it fits him perfectly, not too long but not too short. He rummages in his pockets before pulling out a piece of paper, this piece of paper that I can just see, is the one I hid in the jacket pocket.

'I know you said what happened in the past, stays in the past but…why would you use Phoenix again?' He questions quickly, not wanting to be late for his first exam either. I remember writing the nickname, not sure as to why I did, but I did. I turn to him properly, thinking of a suitable answer to satisfy his inquisitive mind.

'Look, meeting you again changed me, made me realize how much of the old self that Barstard had changed. I wrote Phoenix because being around you again made me feel like her, unafraid of what people thought, ready to fight for what I believed in. I wrote it as a tribute to you, for bringing the part of me back that I had forgotten.' Without another word, I hugged him, knowing that we didn't have long left before adult life would change both of us again. He stiffened, but hugged me back, as we remembered why we were here.

I quickly let go and ran into the school, not looking back at my long lost friend, this last week would be the last week together. Edward was smart, he would easily get into a good university, find a well-paying job, the same for Jonathan…but me, I would be lucky if I got into a university at all.

Therefore, I rushed to maths, checking my watch to see how long I had left. Before I knew it, I was waiting outside with my classmates to enter the jaws of hell. Anna stepped out of nowhere, her ginger hair bouncing on her shoulders; she looked frightened. She extended a hand to me; I looked at it questioningly before taking it, a big mistake. She dragged me into a giant hug, squeezing the life out of me.

'No hard feelings Sy, I think deep down I knew Adrian would be better with you.' She weeps onto my shoulder, threatening to cry. I pat her back, remembering her popular style again, but I let her off, I might not get another chance again.

Mr Jones appears from the exam room, motioning for us to enter. Anna squeezes my hand firmly before letting go to find her seat; I also leave to find mine. Most of the students I don't recognise, but a few catch my eye, Harley sits to the left of me, fiddling with her ponytail. Another familiar face is Drury Walker, looking at the light bulb a little too intently. Then there's Joker, he giggles into his hand for some reason, and I don't like where this is going.

The teachers hand out the papers blank side up, telling everyone to turn over when instructed; I revise some things in my head quickly. It's a non-calculator exam, I hate these so much. I take one last glance at Anna in the far corner of the room, she smiles tentatively, be doing the same as a silent good luck. Then, they signal that the exam has begun, and I turn the page over, the complicated words and numbers making me do a fish impression. Even the first question brings tears to my eyes, as it looks complicated:

**A) Calculate 26 × 19**

My mind stops working, and I can hear all the other pencils scribbling answers. I do a quick mental calculation in my head and right down what I believe is the answer.

_494_

Next question, and I feel my brain already protesting against it's excessive use today.

**B) Write three hundred thousand in figures.**

Ok, this isn't as hard, just got my brain to do what I want. I hear the giggling of Joker a few chairs away from me, but I try to ignore it, as he will probably be thrown out if he continues. During this disruption, I scribble down my answer, trying to pick up speed as I hear the pencils scribbling faster.

_300,000_

Suddenly, the sound of a paper being ripped up and loud laughter echoes around the room, I look up briefly to see Joker being carried out by his collar, the laughter making everybody else look up, faces ones of annoyance. I concentrate on my work again, not letting the distraction stop me from finishing the paper.

**C) Seven eighths of the children in a school are right-handed. What fraction of the children in the school are left-handed?**

Great, a worded question, my nemesis in tests. I leave the question, maybe being able to go back to it afterwards.

The hour and a half we have to do the test actually flies by, and only a few questions I leave unanswered. When the teachers stop us, I rub my neck, the joint straining at the continued angle it was just put through. I look around the room to find Anna once the papers have been collected, I see her in the far corner, she looks pale, but I try to give her a thumbs up. She smiles weakly before rubbing her tired eyes, so I leave her alone. The room becomes and uproar of applaud as the exam papers leave our sights forever, I join in; glad to see those papers gone.

* * *

We get to have half an hour break before going back for the non-paper question, so I leave with Anna to get some fresh air. She talks non-stop the whole way there. Mostly about how hard it was and whoever came up with exams should be burning in hell, the usual teenage girl rants but I don't mind, finding the normal conversation making me calm.

As we open the double doors, the strong breeze whips our hair back, and we giggle as we engulf the small minutes of freedom. We sit under the shade of the birch tree next to the school, and I watch as Anna makes daisy chains with the small amounts of flowers in the tiny green area. Sure enough, Adrian who is a little tense at seeing Anna with me joins us; I shrug my shoulders saying we made up. He sits in between us, making Anna a little uncomfortable, but she hides it well with a cute smile.

Adrian and me aren't one of those hold hands all the time people, but we do share the odd moment together. Anna just finds it cute, us two together after knowing each other for so long. I can see she's still disappointed (an understatement) that Adrian dumped her, but I think she doesn't want to end on bad terms. We chatter until I see two people walk out of the double doors, Edward and Jonathan sit on their usual spots on the stone steps. I want to join them, but I know Adrian and Anna won't feel welcomed by the other two. Adrian follows my gaze, whispering in my ear gently.

'Go on and join them, I'll talk to you at lunch.' He kisses the shell of my ear, making me punch his arm, but he doesn't mind. As I walk over to the other two, I hear Anna question why I'm walking over to the 'super nerds' but I let Adrian explain. Jonathan notices me first, as he analyses my chirpier nature. Edward doesn't notice me until I go to sit down in between the two of them, he greets me with a small hello before staring at the ground.

I can tell he's still angry about the discovery, just by the way he ignores me. Because I don't want to jump straight into the conversation of rape, I turn to Jonathan first, wondering what his first exam was. He seems grumpier than normal, which only makes me more inquisitive as to what his first exam was.

'Come on then, it couldn't have been _that _bad.' He glares at me, which tells me it is bad.

'It was Cooking and Catering…' He mumbles, I didn't even know he took cooking, but that just proves how stupid some of these exams are. 'By the end of the exam, the supposedly casserole looked like Edward's vomit!' I fight back a smirk, hearing the annoyance in his tone, but I doubt he'll ever need cooking and catering anyway. However, he genuinally looks aggravated at his failure, so I don't say anything, but try to change the subject.

'Yeah but now we have psychology, and we all know you'll get an A* in that.' I reply helpfully and watch him pull his glasses on his nose again; he nods his head for his appreciation of the gesture. Now, I try to talk to Edward, who still ignores my every move. A deep bravery burns inside me, words spill off my tongue as if I'm not in control, and I speak words that plague my mind.

'Edward, whether you like it or not, these last few weeks are probably going to be the last few weeks of us three together. I don't know about you, but I want to end on good terms this time.' I add, seeing if it makes a shred of difference. Edward jumps up from his seat, glaring at me before heading back inside, slamming the doors closed. I turn back to Jonathan, who had watched Edward slamming the doors, his blue eyes turn to me, even more intense it seems.

'He's been like that since he found out, I can't get through to him, and I thought you could…maybe not.' He sighs, pushing his glasses on his nose again. I have an internal debate, whether to go after him or stay out here for him to calm down…I choose the first one. Pulling myself onto my feet, I rush after him, and I just see his jacket flick at the end of the corridor. I sprint to keep up with him, breaking the no running rule, but I couldn't care less right now.

I hear a door close as I turn the corner, this door being the photography classroom. My black shoes squeal against the flooring as I turn on my heel towards the white door. I open it gently, peeking around the corner to see where Edward is, and I see him, his back to me as he sits in a chair. I compromise whether to approach him, but find he already knows I'm behind him as he asks something, something only he could ask.

'Riddle me this, why do apples tend to be rotten inside?' The riddle sounds sinister, and I don't want to answer it, but he does it for me. 'Poisonous…but that is what you are Sylvia.' He stands up and twists to face me, a photograph in his hand. From this distance, I can't tell what it is of, but it looks old, and he stares at it before meeting my own eyes with an insane gleam that frightens me. 'After all, a phoenix is a beauty and is wanted by many men. However, they always end up burning into ashes, only to rise again a little less of what they used to be.' He pauses for air, looking at me evermore intently.

'That name, how much like a phoenix you are now, how many times have those golden feathers been burnt?' He pauses again, placing the photograph on the table next to him; he leans on the table, watching my fearful features at his sudden change in attitude. 'You always come back, that is your weakness Sylvia, and you always go back to the people you left behind, because you feel guilty as to how they turned out.' This pause is longer, because either he's thinking of the right words, or he's realizing what he's saying. He continues, removing the latter option.

'There was a competition while you were away, a twenty dollar price to the kid you could solve an impossible logic problem, I solved it of course. I went home, thinking_ he_ had calmed down by then, I told him about the competition and he called me a moron saying that I had cheated. I swore I didn't…and he hit me for lying.'

I stand still, hearing the arrogance in Edward's voice, this arrogance poisoning the mature tone. I hate not being able to do anything, he makes me feel small and stupid, and I try to apologize.

'I'm sorry Edward.' He places a finger to his lips, a small chuckle escaping them before he points the finger at me.

'Don't be, he was right. There's just one thing I still can't figure out, it's been _poisoning_ my brain for a long time. Riddle me this Sylvia Tyler…Why do you, _care_?' The same riddle again, and I hear the anger in his voice. I have to answer now, or I fear what he will do if I don't. He watches me intently now, the finger still placed against his lips as he waits for his riddle to be solved. The only problem is, is that I can't physically answer it, I don't know why I care, it's like a duty that I needed to do, to protect him. Thinking about it now, I see where this _protection_ got us, me being raped and having nightmares for years, and now Edward confused and guilty.

'I'm sorry Edward, I can't answer your riddle, and it will be the riddle that neither of us can solve.' That is the only answer I can give him, this being truthful in my mind. He rubs his eyes, clearly tired of all of this. He stands, walking straight past me; he stops when he reaches the door and turns his head to look at me.

'I can solve every riddle, I'm smart enough, and I will solve the riddle. Until I do, we will be nothing more than friends shattered by time, goodbye Phoenix.' He leaves the room and I find myself alone, I fight back tears as I realize what I've done to my Enigma. I quickly pick up the photograph and choke back an absent laugh as I see Edward and me as children.

It's the Christmas party…the one where he raped me. Edward is smiling sheepishly in the corner of the photo, while I'm wearing a small smile as I pull at my dress. Nashton is just out of the shot, his legendary bottle of beer in view on my right. It was dad that took the photograph; little did he know that one of his friends, someone he thought he could trust, had taken advantage of his daughter. As I stare at the photo, I realize that he never got to know the truth, never saw Nashton for what he really is; an animal.

I rip the photo apart, feeling the warm tears trickle down my face; the small pieces float to the floor. The flame that had burned earlier turns to ashes, resembling my heart as well as Edward's words, and the sad reality is that he was right. However, it didn't feel like Edward. True, he spoke in his riddles and was genuinely sorrowful at leaving, but his words were filled with arrogance and narcissism and that frightens me more than fear of sexual abuse.

I stand paralysed until I hear the bell for the psychology exam, and manage to free my feet from the heavy ground, gravity seeming to work extra hard to keep from being mobile. The photograph's remains lay untouched on the ground, and I can't bring myself to look at them as I leave to join Jonathan in the exam room further down the hall.

He doesn't ask about mine and Edward's conversation, more focused on passing the exam. He does however, ask about my dad (obviously, when nobody else is listening). After all, he also saw Falcone leave with my dad and so he counts as a witness. I reply simply, stating that no matter what I do, Falcone will always be one-step ahead. Jonathan praises my wise choice, which lifts my spirits from the rock bottom area of my mind.

**Again, another teacher greets us by ushering us into the exam room and to our designated tables. Jonathan actually sits across from me, but he remains focused on the exam. I do a quick revision in my head as I did in mathematics, and wait for the papers to be handed out. I think sceptically about this exam, knowing that I need to at least get a grade D or higher to meet the computers judgement on me.**

The papers are handed out, and the hour begins…I scribble neatly with the pencil almost instantly.

* * *

For the rest of the school day, the same routine of meeting outside the exam rooms continues. I don't see anything of Edward and only briefly glance at Jonathan after the psychology exam, but I think we both feel confident that we passed. The exam hadn't been as stressful as the maths, and most of the questions were reasonable to understand. The next exam we do is chemistry, and it's based off forensic experiments and other interesting statistics. I find this exam to be the easiest, finishing with fifteen minutes to check over my answers. I'm surprised at how easy it is to lose yourself in the exams, the stress leaving as you remain calm, your pencil writing on its own accord half the time.

I remain unnerved however, the way that Edward had spoken to me eating at my brain. I don't intend on talking to him, if that is how he wants to end this friendship, then so be it. Nevertheless, what with all the drama and exams, I feel completely drained by the time I walk out of the school gates, no one at my side as I venture towards home.

The journey is longer than the original from my father's apartment, and gives me extra chills as I pass open alleyways, fearing the growing darkness. To ignore this darkness, I resort to staring straight ahead, not even a side-glance into the abyss.

For today's journey, I seem less anxiety and paranoia. I even whistle to remove the silence as I pass down one of the fearful alleyways, feeling braver and more mature. It isn't until I reach near the end of the alleyway, this being the end of the darkness towards the light, that I feel a pair of eyes watching me. I stand still, an invisible shiver falling over me… as if someone has just walked over my grave.

A hand grabs for my shoulder, but before I can scream, a hand covers my mouth, dragging me back into the shadows. I kick and claw at any chance I can, fear that this person intends on raping me poisons my mind. Then another figure emerges from the darkness, a man dressed in a smart suit. He launches himself forward, and outs a white cloth over my mouth, I try not to breathe whatever chemicals are on the cloth, but I already begin to feel the effects tainting my senses. My limbs become limper and my brain shuts down, and just before I can fall into unconsciousness, I see another man smoking a cigar, this man being Carmine Falcone…

* * *

**ANNNDDD cliffhanger... ONE MORE CHAPTER! Not gonna reveal anything as it will be explained in the next chapter.**

**Eddie changes a lot and i'm sorry if it's a bit harsh too quick but my take on The Riddler is the darker version in Arkham City, except he doesn't look like an old man. Thanks to everyone, please review!**

**~ GothGirlStrikesAgain**


	10. The Phoenix Is Born

**CHAPTER TEN... THE LONG AWAITED END TO HIGHT SCHOOL, hopefully i haven't disappointed anyone with this finale.**

**Thanks AGAIN to MidnightFedora for another review, hope you like this.**

**So the song for this chapter describes many of the criminals well, if you interpretite the way i did anyway. Now whenever i here this song, i just think of Eddie, Johnny, Mad Hatter and many of the other rogues as well as Sylvia.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS EXCEPT MY OCs ALL THE REST BELONG TO DC COMICS OR THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS.**

**I will explain some of this afterwards, as i know this will need explaining.**

**With that done, on with the chapter...**

* * *

_If we don't kill ourselves,  
We'll be the leaders of a messed up generation,  
If we don't kid ourselves,  
Will they believe us if we tell them the reasons why?  
Did we take it too far?  
Take it too far?  
Did we chase the rabbit into wonderland,  
Lose a hundred grand,  
Will they understand,  
It was all to stay awake for the longest,_

_Stay Awake ~ Example_

* * *

My head aches, the chemicals still lingering in my body after the ambush. I can't see anything, the darkness just a blur of some bright lights, other than that it is literally complete blackness. The first of my senses that work is smell, a mix of sewage and aftershave contaminates my nose from the moment I wake up. The smell of cigar smoke only makes my headache worse, and the need to vomit fills my stomach.

I can't process thoughts, my brain still trying to kick start as I begin to remember what happened. All I can picture in my mind is a hairy hand as well as the cigar smoke, other than that, my mind is blank… I can't even remember my own name.

Another one of my senses wakes up, my hands are tied tightly behind a chair, and the itchy feeling of ropes is wrapped around my wrists. I'm sitting in a chair, a normal if slightly uncomfortable metal chair. My eyes still refuse to process my surroundings, but my ears pick up chatter nearby. These voices sounding deep with an accent that I can't describe, but what I can hear is enough to conclude that they are imbeciles. As they talk amongst themselves, I count the minimum of three people, and panic over comes me almost immediately.

'Why didn't we just hit 'er? It would've been easier.' One of the more idiotic men asks, making me curious as to what they want from me.

'Cause boss said we weren't supposed to scare 'er.' I scoff in my head, being tied up somewhere that is a mystery to you, is fucking scary. The voices stop, giving me time to get my brain to work, I go over maths questions but it just turns my headache into a powerful migraine.

My eyesight gradually improves and I begin to see dark masses that I assume to be figures, I then realize that my head is rested on my shoulder. I don't try and move my head, the position comfortable for now as I get the rest of my senses working. As I tug gently at the rope, the screeching of chairs across the floor make my teeth grind. Heavy footsteps echo towards me and it isn't long before I feel stale breath on my face, this bringing me close to scrunching my nose.

'I think she's wakin' up…do we tell boss?' The man nearest to me shouts unnecessarily, I finally force my head to look up, every muscle in my neck screaming against the action. The mobsters take a step back, my sudden movement catching them off guard. Feeling somewhat brave I speak in a croaky tone.

'Dude, you seriously need a mint.' I see the mobster go to swing a hit at me, but another dark mass enters the room making the mobster freeze in place. The smell of the cigar smoke becomes more potent.

They walk slowly towards me, every few steps they take a swig from their cigar and blow it in my direction, making me cough ever so slightly. I try to look up again and the strain makes me wince, but the pain is worth it as I glare directly at Carmine Falcone. 'You could have just called instead of all this kidnap shit.' These words are not my own, they speak from somewhere deep in the back of my mind, a tiny thought becoming into words on my tongue. I know this kind of talk will get me into trouble pretty quickly, but I can't seem to stop myself.

Falcone just smokes his cigar, staring down at me bold as brass as if he owns the city…as if I'm supposed to _fear _him. Considering my predicament and the fact this man could kill me in less than two seconds, I don't feel scared as if I'm immune to this man's superiority.

I guess it's the tiny person inside my head that speaks those comments for me, this tiny person also flashing images of violence across my eyes. The acts of violence that it shows me, only want me to kill Falcone in the most gruesome of ways, never, would I bring myself to think in such a criminal way.

'All of this was to prove my point…you belong to me now and I expect to be paid my money.' So that's what all of this is about, his drug money, and how exactly does he plan for me to get that?

_Simple, he wants you to steal it. _The voice in my head shouts, and I choke on the air, this voice sounding all too real. It sounds like my own; only, it is harsher and more arrogant. I forget about Falcone for the moment and that I'm probably going to die, I only focus on the voice.

_Are you real, or is this just my imagination? _I whisper in my head, andI swear I hear a sigh type of sound come from my mind.

_Of course I'm real, do you think your imagination can do this? _Suddenly, I feel a tugging sensation on my soul, it's hard to describe, it's like an out of body experience you hear on supernatural shows. I am dragged to the back of my mind, I still hear and see but it's muffled and blurry, whatever controlling my body must have a death wish.

'Sorry old timer, but this little birdie doesn't belong to _anyone_.' The voice is humorous with a hidden hiss that only I seem to hear. All of this scares me, more than Timothy Nashton does, it's insane. I think the voice can hear my thoughts as it lets me take control again, slithering back into my mind. I wear a shell-shocked expression, even Falcone looks shocked at my change of attitude, but I try to act as confident as the voice did.

'I don't owe you anything; all of it was between you and my father, nothing to do with me.' My voice isn't as strong as the other voice, but I think it praises me for my confidence.

'Well yer dad's dead, and I still need my money.' He says confidently, still blowing cigar smoke into my now ashen face.

'That's not my problem; you're the one that killed him.' He stands straight, giving me personal space that I can breathe in dirty air. The voice praises me yet again but it still wants me to be more confident, which I can't seem to do. Just as I begin to continue, Falcone flicks the burning end of the cigar onto my face, the searing pain making me squeal and twist my head to remove the burning ash. He doesn't chuckle or smirk, he just gives cold eyes as I cry in agony. After the show, he pushes the burning ash off my face, a little too hard for my taste but I don't complain.

'Don't think yer know what happened, cause you don't. I prefer not to get my hands dirty, but you would know that if yer daddy had been a little more truthful now wouldn't he?' I remain silent, the burning sensation still apparent on my skin, I hear the voice scream at me but I just tell it to keep quiet. The voice grumbles and I almost shout aloud as I feel the anger rising in me, reminding me not to be told what to do by an imaginary voice.

Falcone makes hand gestures, thinking that I will say something if he makes silly movements but all it does is aggravate me further. I want to grip his throat and strangle him to death, after everything with Nashton and Edward; it is this poor excuse of a man that makes me think homicidal thoughts. He sighs at me, either out of disappointment or just to keep my attention…I go for the latter.

'Now to business, I hear you're quite the whizz kid in science.' I remain quiet, but the question of how he knows fills my mind.

_He's Carmine Falcone, he hears everything in the city. _The voice interrupts, obviously annoyed by my statement earlier.

_Shut up, you're just my imagination!_

_Sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm real, and I'm here to stay._ I don't argue as Falcone continues, unaware of my internal conversation.

'So, if I can make you a cop which incidentally I can, then you can get my money. After all, the cops get certain privileges and I should know. Yer up for the job or not?' He says in his New York accent, and it already begins to irritate me. I stare at him for a moment, the brown hair scattered with dying grey, his expensive coat and suit he got from dealing those infernal drugs.

'What if I say no?' A logical question, with only one answer.

'Well…' He clicks his fingers and one of the mobsters reveals a handgun 'your granddad won't live to see another day, neither will those two scrawny kids you hang around with.' He mimics a gun being fired, it's non-existent bullet aiming for my forehead, I get the idea. Even though how much I hate the Barstard, I can't let him murder the only family I have left, and defiantly not Jonathan and Edward. I lower my head in defeat, the voice inside my head staying silent as I murmur my answer.

'I didn't catch that…' Falcone says, cupping his ear to hear me. I snap my head up to look at him, fire blazing in my crazed eyes.

'I said…I'll do it. Under one condition…you leave everyone I care about out of it, they don't know a thing.' I almost beg, the humiliation piercing a whole in my brain and making it bleed. Now the voice is alive again, screaming and shouting, I wouldn't be surprised if it was ripping my mind apart.

'Good choice and I keep my word, none of them will know.' He clicks his fingers again and the mobster holding the gun launches himself towards me. Confusion and fear fills my mind as the butt of the gun is raised in the air, and crashes onto the side of my skull.

_You fucker, hang in there Sy. _The voice says gruffly as my head is painful, my vision turning black once again. I only see one final sight until I fall unconscious, the smirking face of Carmine Falcone as he watches me dive into this abyss…knowing I am now his puppet.

* * *

'Miss Tyler, can you hear me? We need a medic in here immediately!' A muffled voice fills my mind, the sound of scuffling feet and commands enter my ears. My left eyelid is pulled open and a blinding light spills into my eyeball, I can't see anything but the light so I follow it as instructed by an unknown person. I smell dyspeptic and other cleaning materials, though I find it better than the cigar smoke. My mind is fuzzy but I still hear the voice, it shouts its own commands at me but I find I can only listen to the strangers instructions.

'Is she going to be okay?' The familiar accent of Grandpa Fox brings relief and I want to answer his question, but my lips nor tongue want to work.

'We'll take her for an X-ray but I think she has a fractured skull, but if I'm correct she should be fine.' These words may comfort my Grandpa, but it brings panic to me. I find myself in an unfamiliar place yet again, but I can guess that I'm in a hospital just by the X-ray. Finally, the blinding light is removed and I fall into darkness once more, I can feel blankets against my fingers, my fingers now able to grab at this fabric. It isn't until I can open my eyes that I realize that I'm moving, the ceilings lights rushing past, not helping my poor eyesight at all.

A doctor's mask is the second thing I see, his eyes are a deep brown which I try to focus on, hoping it will bring back some of my brain cells. The doctor notices my more coherent state, he whispers words of encouragement as well travel down the rather long corridor.

'Come on Miss Tyler; keep those eyes open for us, that's a good girl.'

_We're not a dog! _I hear the voice shout in anger, but I keep my eyes open as instructed. It isn't until we reach the X-ray room that I black out, only to wake up again after the X-ray and I see my Grandpa sitting next to the stretcher. I black out again as he tries to communicate with me, my mind still groggy and not ready to switch on yet, so I fall into a disruptive slumber.

* * *

I awake in a different bed, I'm lay in a sat up position which makes me able to look around the ward. My eyesight is much clearer now and I watch as a nurse walks into the ward. She is surprised to see me awake, thus almost jumping out of her skin as I stare at her. She is a rather short woman, smaller than I am anyway with long curls of blonde hair. Her eyes I can just see are hazel with a hint of dark green, the strangest eye colour I've ever seen, minus Jonathan's.

'Well is good to see you awake sweetie, let's take a quick look at those bandages.' As she says this, my head feels heavier and I realize that it's covered with white wool bandages. I touch my face where the cigar burn is, and I come across a large Band-Aid, so I assume it wasn't that bad. The nurse (with my permission) removes the bandages and studies my bloodied head. I see just how much blood there was from the bandages, the dried blood covering most of it. She places the old one with a new one and takes a quick look at the burn. She makes a hissing sound as she empathies my ordeal.

'I'm not trying to be nosy, it's completely confidential, how did you get this burn?' I know she is just being nosy, but at least she was polite about it.

'Some jackasses mugged me, one of them had a cigarette and caught me as he grabbed by bag.' A suitable answer, not exactly a lie either. She nods her head before leaving me to rest, but I've had all the sleep I wanted. All I want, is to see Grandpa Fox and tell him I'm alright, I mean, I think I'm alright. The voice inside my head tells me otherwise, this voice not being apparent until after the mobsters put that chemical over my mouth.

_If you're so interested in finding out how they almost killed you, feel free to ask one of these ditsy nurses. _The sarcastic tone fills my mind, and I can tell this voice _is _here to stay, that is unless I get help.

_Help…getting help from a shrink won't get you into the Police Force, you need to stay focused on that. _

_Since when do you care about Jonathan and Edward as well as Grandpa Fox? _I ask, regretting it afterwards as my head aches again.

_I care, because technically I'm part of you, the part of your brain that rebels … the part you forgot. I guess that knock out stuff must have unlocked me, made me, what's the word… an individual presence in your brain, so it's _our _brain. _The speech seems rational, after all, I have no idea what the side effect of that chemical was, maybe the voice is right.

_Hey, I need a better name than _The voice_. _The voice…individual presence mimics my own voice almost identically. A flash of the day under the oak tree appears over my eyes, the presence searching through my memories to find a name, and then it sees the bird fly along the sunset…the golden wings.

_Phoenix…I could get used to that, so no more _The voice, _the name is Phoenix. _I find myself delighted that _Phoenix _has a name now, though I'm not sure why. It's strange, having this other person inside your head, you never feel quite alone because they are always there to talk to. I do this quite often as my days in Gotham General Hospital become longer, my fractured skull healing slowly. The doctors explained to be that they found chloroform in my system, this being used as an anaesthetic, but can be lethal if overdosed. I come to my own conclusion that Phoenix was somehow made from this overdose and for some reason it didn't kill me. I get my brain working as I figure out the suitable course of action from here, how I plan to get into the police department and what qualifications I need are just a few of the problems.

This will all depend on the grades I get, I know maths and of course, science is necessary but the other subjects. I'm not doing this to save my own skin, it is to keep my Grandpa and friends alive, at least until I know I can take down Falcone and his mobsters without them being in the crossfire. Phoenix helps in this area, giving me ideas on how I can keep my friends and family alive while plotting against Falcone. I use most of my time doing this, the boredom too quiet and empty.

As to keeping my friends alive, I think about a homicide detective career, this helping many people in society but gives me extra assess to the criminals. This could be useful if a criminal is working for Falcone, at least I can somehow come to a compromise if need be. Also, there is being able to keep an eye on suspects, this could be useful in getting Falcone's money if I play my cards right.

Then there's the plotting against Falcone, which both me and Phoenix are both up for. I need combat skills as a start, but this is easy as Applied Sciences hold many ways for training, even if it means going behind my Grandpa's back. Then there's the bow and arrows, I've already become skilled in using the plain ones, hopefully the special ones are just as easy and I can always practice when Grandpa isn't around.

Therefore, deceiving cop by day, bow-wielding hero by night…sounds great.

Adrian visits often, along with Anna once she stops crying her eyes out. Both already have their exams results back, and both did exceptionally well minus the few D grades. I'm happy for both of them, but this only makes me more anxious about my grades, if I don't do well, then Falcone will kill them. I'm confident about science and psychology strongly, but maths is still a problem…only time will tell.

Neither Edward or Jonathan visit, but I'm not surprised, after everything that happened I know they would rather move on, me just being a burden. I accepted this sooner than planned, I wanted at least to say goodbye properly than end it with shattered photos. I guess we never get what we want, that is the cruelty of life.

As I gradually become more active, I travel around the hospital in solution to keep my boredom at bay. Just as I turn to go back to my ward, a familiar moustache catches my eye near the reception desk. I sprint over before he can leave and tug at his jacket, he turns to look at me in a state of confusion before recognising me.

'I know it's going to be difficult and a lot of hard work but, what is the chance of me becoming a police detective?' The question is forward and straight to the point; he doesn't seem fazed by the question and actually thinks of a suitable answer.

'It would mean a lot of hard work, but if you're willing enough you could do it. It does mean a four-year accredited and major in criminal justice, if you're up for that?' I nod my head vigorously, showing just how much I am prepared for the hard work, he smiles at this. 'Is good to see some enthusiasm in the younger generation, I suppose once you've finished college I could recommend you.' He smiles again, which tells me he is seriously considering this. Deep down I feel guilty as all of this will be a lie, that I am working for the man that the police are fighting against.

'Thanks Mr…'

'It's Jim, Jim Gordon.' He shakes my hand briefly before going to leave, but again, I stop him with one final question.

'Officer Gordon, how easy is it to change someone's identity as in, to change their name?' The answer to that question would change me; make me a liar to my friends, cheating everyone I cared about. That day, Sylvia Tyler died, and Hannah Brookes was born…along with Phoenix who would become a vigilante much like a certain Bat.

* * *

**So i looked up the side effects of Choloform overdose and it can kill, but i had to mess around with it a bit.**

**I know that many people interpret scarecrow as having split personality but i decided to use the Nolanverse scarecrow which to me is just Crane but he's of course sadistic (and i find Cillian Murphy hot). But i liked the idea of a character having split personality and thought it fitted into the story well. However, Sylvia still thinks that "phoenix" is part of her imagination and the choloform just reacted to it, she doesn't understand it's more serious which is why she's taking it so well.**

**I tried to keep most of this realistic as possible (well, for a fanfiction) becuase i know it takes a long time to become a detective so i did more reaserch on that area.**

**Desieving the cops and Grandpa Fox was hard to write, as at the beginning i wanted her to be honest but over time i thought it more suitable for her to have a reason to become a detective. Don't worry, nobody bosses Phoenix around!**

**I'll try and upload the next part soon, but i have this sort of summary planned to make it more simple so i can get straight into the story, and finally that chapter i wrote AGES ago can be used...Yay!**

**Thanks to everyone and hope this isn't too long...**

**~GothGirlStrikesAgain**


	11. Change: Summary

**As promised a long summary so i can jump straight into the story, this will explain some of the things that have happened. But i'll explain more as the story progresses.**

**This is Sylvia's POV.**

* * *

Time + change = Life… a simple equation yet so many twists and turns, so much depression or excitement. Life for a human being is and always will be complicated, we change as we learn, our innocence being taken once we see the cruelty of the world. This innocence is being taken so much sooner now, as the world enters chaos, a never-ending chain of chaos that can only grow longer.

For the few different people in this world, the equation isn't enough, there _has _to be change. Many of these people end up in asylums or worse, buried six feet below, but these people are special, they see beyond the lies said by the powerful. They see further and wake up from the corrupt dream that is society. The truth is, they are ahead of time itself, becoming what the world will be like, we call them insane…they're just a bomb waiting to explode.

For a long while, I stood by society, playing into its hands as a marionette does to its puppeteer. For a long while, my eyes remained closed, not wanting to see the cruelty, but I had already seen it. I worked as a detective for the Gotham City Police Department, a strange turning point in my life, but I guess that is what time does, changes who we are. There is only one reason why this changed happened, bacuse Carmine Falcone wanted his drug money, and he would kill the people I cared about if I didn't get it.

I helped capture the sick killers in Gotham, bringing justice to many criminals, one of my proudest being the capture of Victor Zsasz, but I always keep on guard in case he escapes from The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, bit of a mouthful so we just call it Arkham Asylum. Zsasz murdered my mother, this being his first victim that would soon become many victims. I know Zsasz still wants revenge, but I myself have done criminal activity, so if I ever meet him, we may come to an understanding…but I rather doubt that.

I suppose you're wondering how a detective came to be one of the criminals she used to capture, it's simple really, the most intelligent person I have ever met. I know that sounds stupid, I myself found him a dick when I first met him, well, when we were adults, and he kidnapped me to play his puzzles of death. What made him different from all the other crazies was that I knew him; we were friends as children. We went to the same preschool, same middle school, even the same high school.

At the start of middle school, I tried to block him out of my life, for you see, his father was an animal of a man…he raped me, after that, I was scared to even be near another male. There is a technical name for it, Contreltophobia, the fear of sexual abuse. Jonathan told me that, after he found out of course, but he understood and helped me try to get over that fear. Unlike Edward who changed after that secret had been revealed, if only I had known just how much.

That was high school, Edward and I rather became friends again after I helped fish him out of a trash can…long story but in the end we became close friends again, even Jonathan and I shared a mutual friendship.

Then everything went to crap, it turned out my father was smuggling drugs for Falcone, a mob boss who controlled the city for years, now just an insane patient in Arkham thanks to Jonathan. After my father tried to back out numerous times, even tried to call the police, Falcone had him killed, that son of a bitch.

That's when I changed, I even changed my name so my lies wouldn't be connected to my family, I didn't want to ruin the already shattered family name. After high school I got into university and studied forensic science, I was going to bring down the criminals and Falcone no matter what. After I became a true member to the GPD, I decided to take my own approach, going out at night and finding the sons of bitches and kicking their asses.

Eventually I became known as The Phoenix, and found going around with a gun was a bad idea, as a giant Bat told me. So instead, I _borrowed_ a specially designed bow and arrows from my Grandpa Fox, I made a make shift costume and began searching for leads on Falcone, my police training helping me locate people that I needed without much effort. I kept my true identity hidden, Hannah Brooks wouldn't be connected with The Phoenix.

As I said, the smartest man I'd ever met, The Riddler, captured me but I was just a detective to him, until I told him a riddle and he figured out who I was. Once again, everything changed, I became a marionette again, but this time, I didn't mind, at least I could have a fun rather than hate my life. My name was Sylvia Tyler, now I'm Hannah Brooks AKA The Phoenix…I have a story, how I became a vigilante and fell for a green wearing Riddle weaver, and how I shared a friendship with a psychologist with a hunger for fear. This is my story, I'm not ashamed, in fact, I'm proud, I'm proud because I protected my Eddie, like I promised…

* * *

**So little insight on her mother's killer and all the university mumbo jumbo, I just need to work a few kinks in the chapter before i can upload it. I'm so excited now!**

**~GothGirlStrikesAgain**


	12. Reunion Is Shocking

**SO here it is, the first chapter of adult life, i didn't mean it to be so long but i wanted to get all of them in as well as keep the story interesting.**

**this will be based in the middle of The Dark knight as it will have Seraphine in it.**

**If you're wondering about Seraphine, i did a one-shot about her a while back, and decided she would sit well in the story. The one-shot will explain on how she met Johnny and so forth, please read it as it will help understand her character.**

**Thanks to MidnightFedora for the review yet again, thank you so much!**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS EXCEPT MY OCs ALL THE REST BELONG TO DC COMICS OR THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS. **

**With that done, on with the chapter...**

* * *

_Maybe I should cry for help,  
Maybe I should kill myself (myself),  
Blame it on my A.D.D. baby,_

Maybe I'm a different breed,  
Maybe I'm not listening,  
So blame it on my A.D.D. baby,

_Awolnation ~ Sail_

* * *

I stared at the poor officer, her black mascara tears streaming down her apprehensive face. We both gazed at the electrified water below, our parched lips quivering. Green LED lights make the torture room shine with a sickening glow. There are only three platforms left now, large metal squares that barely supports both our weights, only three more questions before we are _eliminated_.

The officer is constantly shaking from the pressure of the agonizing death that is just below us, the riddles haven't favoured her at all, I thank my Grandpa and his brilliant mind. He would be in the house, watching the Gotham News, not even knowing what is happening to his one granddaughter. He never encouraged me to walk on my own two feet, not since my father's passing, paranoia wasn't in his character and it unnerved me more than the predicament I am in now. Ever since that night in The Narrows, he doesn't trust me to walk the streets of Gotham, even the more upper class streets. All of the protective attitude, just because I was out when that toxin was exploding through The Narrows, all because of that masked operate The Scarecrow.

'Well, well, well. Only the good detective and the rookie officer left, who would have guessed! Now, shall we try another riddle?' Are you smart enough to answer one of _my_ riddles correctly?' The narcissi voice of our captor speaks through a poorly designed hologram; the robotic voice stutters but is full of confidence. The officer and I share a terrified glance, as we understand what the other is thinking.

'A-alright, tell us another riddle then…Riddler.' My tone is forced normality as I can feel the officer's fear radiate and enter my vocal chords.

'Aren't we a confident one, very well, this is for you. Riddle me this detective, what is something to everyone and nothing to everyone else?' I give another look to the officer, who immediately shifts her eyes to the deadly water below. I close my bloodshot eyes, concentrate on slowing my rapid heartbeat, and make my sharp gasps deeper ones. Phoenix interrupts my concentration with sudden outbursts as to why I haven't kicked his ass already, but I shush her the best I can. However, she only becomes louder, never doing as I command, but you can't command yourself after all.

'Is the little detective having trouble over a _simple_ riddle?' A chuckle follows; I clench my hands into fists.

'Shut up Riddler, if not, I'll shove that cocky attitude where the sun doesn't shine. I'm not finding it difficult, it's called thinking…Maybe you should try it sometime.' Phoenix mumbles the last suggestion with our eyes still firmly closed, as not to see the hologram of our captor.

'If that's' your attitude of this situation, maybe I should make your inevitable death…a shorter time away.' He speaks incredibly slowly, teasing us with death. I take control and I open my eyes as a deafening scream escapes the officer's mouth as a square tumbles below the deadly water. Another square follows by another scream, and now, there's one square…our square.

'Wait! I take it back, the answer is the mind!' The hologram rubs his chin in consideration, staring at an object neither of us can see. The officer is whimpering loudly as she stares at the water below, she hasn't spoken a word since her fellow officer had fallen to his death only moments ago.

I take another look at her as our captor considers, her black hair is held up in a messy bun and a few strands fall onto her shoulder. A walkie-talkie is strapped to her breast pocket, a useless machine in this situation. A small handheld gun is suspended on her belt, not of use either as there is nothing to shoot at.

I would tell her we are going to get out of here, that we will beat him, but that's just a sick lie. Our captor can do what he damn well pleases, he has the button that causes our death, and all it takes is one push with a thin finger.

I turn my gaze to the hologram, his green suit with stitched question marks, his green tie with a golden question mark…always question marks. He had his question mark cane a few minutes ago, now his smudged hands are empty. His hair an impossible light yet dark brown, this hair being covered by a green bowler hat, with, of course, a question mark. I know I need to give him a reason to keep us alive a few more moments this whole _game_ has a reason for happening.

'If you kill us now, The Batman won't try and save us, thus you won't be victorious in your quest to beat him.' My words are not my own and are full of fear. My Grandpa wouldn't be able to recognise me, I'm _never _scared,not anymore. Yes, I may have been scared when The Scarecrow attacked The Narrows, which was designed to cause fear. I work, or did work in the Gotham police department; stab and gun wounds were a daily occurrence. Liquid red was a continuum, spiders and rats litter the streets of Gotham city, I once lived in The Narrows, and darkness was a friend.

_Knowing_ that whatever we do, we are still going to die, however, is it not better to live in hope? Our captor looks at me with a look I can't describe, between praise and irritation towards my reasoning. The hand still rubs robotic stubbles. The officer gives me a hollow nod of approval; our captor shares this nod but does it more vigorously.

'Very well, I will spare you for now, but I wasn't going to kill you. What would The Batman do if he had no mindless fools to save? Speaking of the bat, he should be here soon. In the meantime, shall we have more riddles? Oh and would you please stop with the screaming, I can feel a migraine coming on.' Our captor places a hand against his flickering forehead; the officer puts a quivering hand to her mouth,

_The GCPD need to recruit more strong-willed rookies._ Phoenix says this as I watch her body vibrate with angst. Wanting to reassure her, the best I can, I lean to whisper in her ear.

'Don't let him think you're weak, show him you're not scared of his petty games.'

'P-petty? He k-killed them…all of th-em.' She chokes quietly behind her hand, more black tears dripping down her milk face; I use my sweetest smile that I can muster. I feel the strain on my lips because of the sudden change, the smile is quick and completely forced but it does the trick as her features harden. She glares at the hologram with piercing blue eyes as she drops her hand from her mouth. 'I hope your migraine is permanent.' Our captor is bemused at her bravery, so much so he laughs, the laugh being abnormal.

'So the officer _can_ talk, and here was me thinking you were a mute!' He sighs intentionally 'Judging by the pain, I wouldn't be surprised, though, being the smartest person in Gotham does have its disadvantages.' Fear is still apparent in the officer's eyes, regretting her interruption and she immediately becomes silent once more. If there were a damp corner laced with mould, she would be cowering in it, with the expression she was wearing.

Feeling that our end is nigh, as our captor begins to lose patience with his bland monkeys, I use my final card. I move, so I am standing in the centre of the metal square, staring straight into the hologram's eyes. Sadness twists my stomach as I stare into those eyes; memories flood my mind as I speak my words carefully.

'I have my own riddle for you, would you _care_ to hear it?' My words don't make much of an effect, a chuckle and a smirk is all I receive. Again, sadness writhes in my gut as I stare at the hologram before me, I know, a timid boy was once hidden behind those eyes.

I feel phoenix listen intently, not sure, whether to intervene or remain at the back of my mind, I believe she chooses the latter.

'You have a riddle for _me_?' Pray tell…I'm intrigued.' I close my eyes briefly, only to see the small smile of a ginger-haired boy, bruised cheeks and a swollen eye is what I see. I open my eyes once more, to see our captor standing there. I forget the officer whimpering behind me, I forget that I am thirty metres above certain death…I forget Phoenix inside my head. I only recognise _him_.

'I am a creature that rises from the ashes, a creature with golden wings. I intrigue men with my fire, but not all kind. I am seen in plain sight, right before your eyes, but the eyes that see me do not recognise…what am I?' He studies me, he _analyses_ me. I know my identity will be revealed soon, it always took him a few seconds. The pondering look he gives me changes with imminent haste. Confusion, the probable word to describe this change, I would normally smile, that confused look making me smile. Now, it was just a look, the look of the childish man before us, not the boy I once knew.

'Phoenix?' Realisation in this questioning tone, he does not need me to confirm this answer. His emerald eyes become lighter, almost as if I am staring into his eyes and not the hologram's.

Phoenix doesn't take too much jealously as The Riddler names _me_ Phoenix, but it was technically me that began that name so she remains quiet for once.

Before either of us can speak, the sound of shattered glass echoes around the room.

The flap of a black cape and a glimpse of a cowl suggest we are no longer alone. Relief fills the room as the officer sees the dark vigilant; however, this relief battles with tension as I gaze at The Riddler. I don't want him to get hurt, even If he is a hologram, even if he kidnapped me and my fellow detectives, he is still my Eddie.

'Well if it isn't the black bat, what took you so long? Let's see if you can save the pathetic officer, I rather doubt it.' I notice the nervousness at the beginning, then the change into narcissism at the end. He hadn't mentioned me in his speech, had I gotten to him? Have I made him regret capturing me? Questions fill my already throbbing head; gunshots echo in every corner, The Batman begins his descent into the devilish games.

Holding my breath, feeling my lungs scream for glorious air, I deny them, this is the end of the game.

_The gun, take the gun! _Phoenix screams in my head.

Suddenly inspiration hits me, turning to the hysterical officer. I motion her to give me the gun, shock reveals on her face, but grants me use of the weapon. The cold metal fits perfectly in my fingers, gripping the handle, resting a cautious finger millimetres away from the trigger.

Detective eyes analyse the room, looking for a power source. The Batman is still moving, keeping The Riddler's attention. My eyes advert to every inch of the room, finally, a luminous LED question mark hangs just above the water. I point the gun at the dot below the question mark, squinting one eye as I focus of the dot, I can't miss. The running thuds of The Batman come to an abrupt stop, chuckling from the hologram enters the room again.

'Is the little bat afraid of getting fried? What is wrong, a little shock therapy never hur- WHAT!' I guess the hologram has spotted me, me and my aimed gun.

'It's over Riddler, you've failed.' Without a second of hesitation, I pulled the trigger the explosion forcing my head to look away. The sizzle of electricity stops as the bullet meets its target. Pride of my accuracy showers my body, and then guilt as a familiar robotic voice speaks again.

'No, you've ruined everything, you cheated! You let The Batman win Phoenix, how could you do such a traitorous act? This isn't over Batman, I'll create more challenges, that-that you won't be able to solve.' The hologram cuts out just as a claw like metal attaches itself to the square. With a whirl of noise, the dark shadow stands before us.

'Hold on' His voice is gruff and authoritative; we both obey and grip both his muscular shoulders. He fires his gadget, we fly through the air and I begin to feel nauseas. He drops us (literally) on the stone ground, a metre away from an iron door. The officer coughs and splutters next to a discarded barrel, I, however, stand with only a slight dizzy sway.

The Batman stands before us, stern features as his black eyes rest on me. Seeing him in like this, as a simple detective and not The Phoenix, is a disappointment. To be fair, I expected a terrible creature with black claws and evil eyes, the sort of thing to make even the most fearless criminals scared. I didn't expect a man in a bat-like spandex costume, reality is always disappointing. I know the question he's going to ask before he says it.

'Water powers me, drowns me, but does not harm me, what am I?' I speak tentatively as to remember his exact words; the riddle seems to be a medium category to me. He grunts his thanks but does not make his leave, instead, he continues his gaze on me.

_Please don't have x-ray eyes._ I plead as his intense stares continue; I can't be recognized now, not with my reputation at stake. I hear the stomach churning sound of the officer lurching. The Batman doesn't seem overly fazed but the inevitable smell makes me want to vomit.

'What did The Riddler mean, when he said Phoenix?' I wasn't expecting the forward question and feel my cheeks begin to warm. Talk of the new vigilante had sparked over the last few months; apparently, The Bat didn't like competition.

_Please just let me beat him up already. _Phoenix moans in my head, disliking The Batman even more than Falcone.

_No, this is not the time nor place and anyway, that would make our job harder. _I argue, and Phoenix reluctantly agrees. I'm slowly coming to terms with Phoenix, the internal conversations often distracting but I remain acting normally as I talk to others, them not knowing about Phoenix.

I turn my attention back to The Batman, and answer his question as normally as I can.

'I'm not The Phoenix if that's what you're thinking, I, am a respected detective in the GCPD. I don't know what he meant by phoenix, it could possibly be a hint to where his next contestants are.' I hope I'm more convincing than I am blushing, he grunts again, I've not been suspected…yet. He turns to the officer, cape flowing by a slight breeze.

'When you're ready, head to GCPD, Commissioner Gordon is waiting for The Riddler's hostages there.' With his final words, he uses his gadget to swing into the midnight Gotham air.

'All about style isn't he? There is a perfectly useful door right here.' I gesture to the iron door, a now degrading question mark painted on it. The officer finishes her vomiting and turns to face me, wiping yellow residue from her mouth as she turns.

'He's The Batman, what do you expect. Why are you complaining anyway? He just saved our lives from that, son of a bitch.' Anger rises in my stomach, burning the vomit. I notice the strain in her voice, but the fear is subsiding, the anger leaves as understanding replaces it.

My medical training comes in handy as I check her for concussion or brain damage. She had banged her head against a metal pipe as we had entered the torture room, plus a thug had hit her on the side of the head. Without reasonable equipment, I couldn't do much to the flesh wound, cleaning it with a dyspeptic wipe was all that I could do. Her smiles of appreciation kept both our spirits at a reasonable level, her hisses of pain as I dabbed the head wound, put guilt in my stomach. I shouldn't feel guilty, I was, after all healing her. I had only begun my job as a detective six months ago, but guilt shouldn't be in my mind. Admittedly, I had been working for the GPCD for a longer time, but being an independent detective was a new experience.

Once the wound stopped seeping, we started our trek. Opening the door took a lot of upper body strength, which I didn't carry. As soon as a crack opened, a rush of finger biting wind entered our little haven, our strands of hair dancing. We stood there, the white moon, illuminating the derelict parts of the city. We stood there, staring at the slowly dying city.

'If it wasn't for The Batman, this city would be a battleground.' Without moving my aching limbs, I say my opinion of our _saviour. _

'No, he's made it worse. By becoming a superhero…He's created super criminals.' I strut down the cobble path, keeping a steady pace as we walk towards the trustworthy Commissioner Gordon.

* * *

'Can you tell me the names of the victims?' The officer stands above me, a notebook in his hand as he scribbles down my answers.

'Sorry no, you could try asking the officer that was with me.' He doesn't reply, I sit with my back straight against the metal chair. Trauma should be devouring my mind, making me schizophrenic and unresponsive. I treat this experience as any other day, well, not being thirty meters above a watery grave.

All I really want is for this interview to be over, I've said what I know, twice, all I want is to be in the security of my own home. The officer leaves the room, leaving me to my overwhelmed thoughts. My head suddenly has a rush of memories, a migraine digging into my forehead. The hologram of The Riddler flashes behind my eyes, sarcasm in that once shy voice, those glasses that used to always be cracked. I'm not entirely sure when I realized it was Eddie, my Eddie, maybe his emerald eyes.

_Stop showing me that Phoenix, now! _The command is hollow, but still gives off anger as the flashing images continue.

_You're gonna have to face him eventually, when night comes, we'll have to throw him in Arkham if The Bat hasn't done it already. _Her words are always helpful, even if I hate the idea; it is true.

Salty water tickles my bottom lip, leaving a bitter taste on my sandpaper tongue. Placing a trembling hand up to my face, a finger catches the teardrop. Hovering it at my eye level, I watch the teardrop gather, it dangles on my fingertip. Eventually, as gravity generates in the room, the tear drops off my finger and lands loudly on the tiled white floor.

I didn't know the names of the other detectives, now, I wish I did. Those brave people would now be forgotten by tomorrow morning, meaningless victims without names, Gotham's heart is cruel.

My thoughts drift back to The Riddler, his look of surprise when figuring my identity, the despair at my _betrayal_. Thinking about Eddie only brings memories of our third outcast, where was Jonathan now? Yes, he had become a psychiatrist but I had heard nothing about him after that.

A notorious trio we once were, all of us having each other's backs. It always seemed to be Jonathan and me strangling each other with Eddie trying to negotiate a truce. Now, as adults, we had gone our separate ways. Jonathan had always destined to become a psychiatrist, it seems both Eddie and me are the surprises. What with me being a detective and Eddie becoming a criminal. Never, in a million years would I have inkling that Eddie would become a _danger_ to society. Yet, there he had been, him and his hologram, that narcissism.

My blood boils, as I know the cause, Timothy Nashton was always an animal. He had always called Edward a moron or worse still, a waste of space. That parasite was a waste of space! Not my Eddie, not Edward Nigma. It seems only now, that I see past the fear, the fear of Timothy Nashton, I feel the revenge in my heart. That fear, what was the scientific name? Contreltophobia, yes that was it…the fear of abuse.

The revenge that had never plagued my mind before, seeing Edward that way had sparked something, a deep hatred for beasts like Nashton; they needed to be eradicated. Edward had begun that task, capturing people who thought themselves better. True, he had captured me in the progress, but had I been any different? I had hardened after that nightmarish night, become distant from society, only thinking about my career. Jonathan had done the same, separating himself from his mindless peers, seeking a career in psychology. Comparing myself to Jonathan Crane was not something I expected to do, I didn't expect to understand him either, fate is complicated.

I seek refuge in my trench coat; it smells of the machinery in that dreadful room. Tears finally unclog my eyes as I let them stream down my face, how long had it been since I cried this much? That terrible night? The crying becomes a waterfall of sobbing, the salty tears splashing my lips on the way down.

Phoenix lets me cry, which she doesn't do very often as she's always trying the harden me up.

Time had changed me, Sylvia Tyler, into a stern and non-socialness woman. Time had changed Edward Nashton into a compulsive and narcissi criminal. The final question was; how much had time changed Creepy Crane?

* * *

Dr Jonathan Crane smirked maliciously, his failed henchman writhing and screaming on his lab floor, by lab, it really was just an ordinary kitchen. A kitchen littered with chemicals and vials, these vials filled to the brim with yellow liquid. Lab equipment made using everyday items, with a few illegal or more important, necessary equipment.

Proud with the toxins result, he injected the henchman with the antidote, the needle sinking into the firm skin. He would have let the toxin stop his quickening heart, but he was technically still of use. Removing his burlap mask, he wiped a cloth over his sweat-tripped face. His rectangle glasses also fitted on his nose again, his brown hair matted, it had been sometime since he had had a shower.

Saying that, how long had it been since he had eaten descent food? He did feel famished, but he could put hunger off until he was clean. It seemed Seraphine, his stepsister, had finally given up on telling him to feed himself, though her patience was a thin thread anyway. She was careful not to let him die of starvation, that being when he was too preoccupied on his work. She was useful, even with her young age, and indeed someone to have an intellect conversation with. Her finding him was probably one of the few good things that had happened in his life, even with her slight aggravating demands of attention.

Letting his henchman heal on his own accord, Crane exited the kitchen towards the deselect bathroom. He stripped and let the boiling water burn his fair skin, the warmth a luxury in the destroyed Narrows, part of his own doing. Feeling replenished, he dried himself with a corpse-smelling towel, once dressed, he entered the kitchen again. His henchman now cowers in a damp corner, whimpering non-stop and rocking back and forth, the pathetic worm a waste of valuable equipment.

Stepping over the leech, he gathered ingredients: Pasta, tomato puree and boiling water. Technically, he couldn't cook, but even he had to gamble with his cooking as a last resort. Dumping the pasta and tomato puree (which was a mystery ingredient to him) into a plastic bowl, he placed it in the unpredictable microwave, setting the timer to twenty minutes. While waiting for his masterpiece, Crane turned his attention to the apartment.

It wasn't the best, somewhere you could bribe someone with thirty dollars, which Crane had done. Wallpaper slowly falling of the damp walls, green substances laced these walls, Crane refused to go anywhere near them. Sighing, he realized how much he needed to get out of the apartment, this being difficult as a wanted man for destroying The Narrows. However, there were places in Gotham where criminals could go, where officers and even The Batman were less likely to turn up.

The microwave bleeped of its completion, Crane causally opened the metal door to reveal the contents. Fighting off the urge to vomit, he decided it was time to visit The Iceberg Lounge, maybe even risking the mackerel meal. Throwing away the monstrosity, he headed for his bedroom, he needed to look acceptable for the occasion, and The Penguin was one for class.

Once he was dressed in a clean black jacket and turtle neck with sleek blue jeans, he went to wake Seraphine, thinking her old enough to face his fellow criminals. She slept quietly; her usual pull of the blankets with her delicate hands, he hated disturbing her. He walked over to the bed, and then shook her gently.

'Seraphine, time to get up.' He commanded, still getting used to the brotherly language. She moaned in a simple reply, before trying to roll over and go back to sleep. He sighed, this was _always_ difficult, but he had one advantage. 'I'm taking you out for a meal, at the Ice Berg Lounge.' The words that meant decent food, were like music to her ears, she immediately sat up and grinned at him.

'Finally, something actually edible.' She remarked, clearly judging his cooking, then, quite unexpectedly, she hugged him. This always surprised him, but he learnt to gently hug her waist, but mainly Seraphine's grip could suffocate him. He pulled away, still trying to not be too attached to his stepsister, he couldn't let his henchmen or anyone seeing him act like a _normal_ person, threatening to lose his reputation. He stood, towering over the bed, with a final command, he began to leave the room.

'You have five minutes to get changed, or I'm leaving without you.'

'No you won't, you wouldn't be able to survive a week without me!'

'Don't push it Seraphine, I managed to last twenty years without your assistance.'

'Yeah, yeah, but I get to have the last say!' Seraphine shouted, the truth is, she was right.

* * *

_This cannot be happening!_ The Riddler thought aggressively, speed walking down the Gotham alleyways towards a safe haven. The Batman had managed to save more of the mindless fools, thus somehow finding his hideout, this being why he is walking away from the scene. He unfortunately, didn't have a backup hideout, how was he to know The Batman would actually _beat_ him. It was absurd, it was unconventional and…whom was he kidding. He hadn't planned ahead, he had acted _imbecilic_, no! He was not a moron, not now, not ever. The Batman had cheated, that was the only explanation, he had cheated…as _she_ had.

The Riddler stops abruptly, leaning against a brick wall, tired hands rubbing his eyes softly. _She_ had been there, _she_ had helped The Boorish Bat…he had captured his own birdie.

How dare he talk about her like an _object_! She wasn't his, she didn't _belong_ to him.

How could he have not recognised her? It was Phoenix, they had known each other since they were children, he _should_ have known. After all that time, all those riddles answered and he was contemplating to end it, to let them die. In a way, he could thank that Bat, thank him for stopping him, thus he hadn't killed his long lost friend. It was a surprise, Sylvia a detective, one of the most unlikely of careers.

Removing his hands from his face, he stared up above the alleyway, only to have his glasses specked with droplets of rain. A few sparkling stars broke through the constant fog clouds, these stars brighter than most he had seen. It had been an eventful night, if anything; he needed sustenance. The clogs in his head were beginning to slow into a normal rhythm; he needed food, if his mind wasn't going to turn into mush.

Storming out of the alleyway, he turned down another street, cane in hand and emerald eyes dancing. It was a long shot, she may not even live there now, but he needed to see her, speak to her, to say what he wasn't sure. The rain became heavier the longer he walked, drowning him in coldness, he did not stop however; he was determined to see his little birdie…his phoenix.

* * *

**Yep...a very long chapter. I know Sylvia isn't being called Hannah a lot, but of course Eddie only knows her as Sylvia.**

**I based The Riddler off the Arkham City version as his costume was brilliant, but it will still be Jude Law as my riddler, he would be perfect for a riddler. **

**I hope to bring Eddie and Jonathan back into the story more, and also Seraphine because i love her personality (i know i made the character but i still love her!) and it think she will be good for Johnny. I know it's kind of obvious that Johnny is Scarecrow, but i've thought of it as Sylvia never really got involved in the work and rarely spoke to anyone. Maybe she doesn't pay much attention to the news, or simply doesn't twig at the name.**

**Thanks to everyone for following this story, this is one of my all time favourites, but i have to say Alice Turns Violent has to be the most enjoyable story to write. Please review as always!**

**~GothGirlStrikesAgain**


	13. The Ice Berg Lounge

**Sorry this is so late, but as i mentioned on 'While The Night Is Young' my word document has been playing up and i had to re-write a lot of chapters, so apologies if this isn't brilliant.**

**IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: This is officially my longest story, and is already way over 1'000 views! Thanks so much, i love writing this every minute!**

**Bloocomet - about the school years, i was running out of ideas and normally most of my stories just write themselves. I may go back and do One-shots or a a short story about their time in high school, adding the experiences that i had planned but never made it into the story. Thanks for the amazing review, and i hope you enjoy the adult life!**

**FieryLady36 - Wow, thanks for sticking around and reviewing this story. I liked the idea of Johnny having split personality, but it didn't quite fit into the story in my eyes, but while writing The Exams chapter, it just popped into my head. I'm glad you like the idea, and i hope it will make the characters more interesting to read about.**

**Wonderaholic - (I have to say, i love that name!) I'm glad you're enjoying this so much, really put a smile on my face when i read it as all of my reviews do, but i hope you like this chapter just as much.**

**MidnightFedora - So glad it wasn't a disappointment, wasn't quite sure how it would go it being so later on in their lives. Thanks for yet another review.**

**You all spoil me way too much! So i bring you another chapter, with a bit more Johnny and Seraphine.**

**I've recently been introduced to the band Hollywood Undead, already i love every single song! So there will be a lot of their songs at the beginning of the chapters, many really making me think of the Batman characters in general, not just Hannah.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS EXCEPT MY OCs ALL THE REST BELONG TO DC COMICS OR THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS.**

**With that done, on with the chapter...**

* * *

_I see the streets burn,_

_Everytime I fall asleep,_

_I'm losing all my sanity,_

_I can't hide from the voice that speaks inside of me,_

_I see the trees burn,_

_along with all my memories,_

_I'm losing my insanity,_

_I can't hide from hide from the voice that speaks inside of me,_

_Hollywood Undead ~ Street Dreams_

* * *

The midnight sky rained heavily on Jonathan and Seraphine, making both having to sprint to their destination to stay relatively dry. Seraphine wore her usual look of a yellow cardigan and denim skirt, her blouse being a vibrant white underneath the cardigan. This made her stand out in the dark night but nobody paid much attention to the two, much to Jonathan's relief, not wanting to be taken to Arkham Asylum any time soon.

They came to their destination exceptionally quickly, the tall dome shaped building placed in the rougher area of Gotham. The neon blue words naming the palace like structure: The Iceberg Lounge.

Jonathan knocked on the rather large iron door, another one was placed on his right disguised as a set of double doors. Seraphine remained beside him, slightly apprehensive about being with other criminals, but she would not show fear.

A small metal flap slide open to reveal a thug on the other side of the door, as soon as he saw Jonathan, his eyes bulged. Jonathan stared him down, noting that he could still bring fear even to the more muscular criminals. He hadn't had much practice since meeting Seraphine, which was why many of his newer experiments were performed on his own henchmen, but at least he could count on her to not be afraid of his more sadistic personality.

The thug remained at the flap, either unable to speak or wondering why the Scarecrow was standing on the doorstep, apparently he wasn't known for being a social person amongst the other criminals. Nevertheless, the thug slid the flap closed and opened the door for them to enter. Seraphine merely scurried by his side, knowing better than to say something out of line in public.

They walked along the hall, their shoes tapping against the wood. The distant sound of jazz music got louder the closer they got to the next set of double doors, the thug stayed at the other door, looking at Seraphine with Neanderthal confusion. Jonathan pushed the door open, bombarded with loud music (not to his taste) and the distinct smell of fish.

The rounded room consisted of many round tables with chairs and red velvet curtains to the more private areas of the room. In the middle of the gigantic room, a huge Ice Berge type monument with live penguins circling around it in the freezing water. The flightless birds made much racket but not enough to drown the music out, Jonathan sighed, knowing that he would have to sacrifice his thin patience for Seraphine to have a decent meal.

A waitress dressed in black and white overalls stumbled over to them, black high heels the size of a rat. As she ushered them to a table, she was shivering, either from the freezing temperatures or she was frightened…Jonathan thought of the latter almost immediately. Their table was furthest from any of the others much to his relief, and was placed in a corner of the room where the music was less noisy.

Seraphine jumped into the seat opposite his own and looked straight at the menu, he let her off, this being the first time he had taken her out somewhere. The waitress walked away, letting them choose their meal, however there wasn't much to choose from except fish. He realized just how famished he was as he skimmed through the menu, the salmon pie sounding appetizing. Seraphine took the longest, going over the menu four times before making a final decision.

She placed the menu on the table and crossed her arms, he saw no point in teaching her table manners, she would just ignore him and he never really paid much attention unless his grandmother was with him. He removed the thought of the old bat, deeming her memory a waste of his time.

Seraphine scanned the room, searching for any criminals that were in her brother's class, this class being the most wanted in Gotham. She mostly found thugs and other henchmen, probably used by the mob or for other higher criminals. She doubted that there were any serial killers, most of them being too animalistic to appreciate a decent meal. However, a few of the other occupants did resemble some of the criminals her brother had told her to avoid. Magpie or Margaret Pye sat at one of the tables across the room, alone with only the silverware for company. Her red hair shone brightly against the blue lights above, her _shiny things _she wore as necklaces and other accessories; secretly she slipped her knife and fork onto her lap every time she thought no one was looking.

A man wearing bandages all over his face, these bandages flaked with dry blood. Seraphine instantly decreed him as Hush, a new man in the criminal web but certainly not one to mess with, rumours spread quickly that he took people's faces, making them his own in a Frankenstein way. He sat at the drinks bar; a small shot of whisky in his hand, Seraphine was curious as to how he ate and drank.

Jonathan followed her gaze, before grabbing her attention with a quick tap on the table, when she looked at him; he gave her a stern look. Seraphine knows that look well, and rested her head in her crossed arms, sighing out of boredom.

The waitress returned, this time with a notepad and pen to write down their orders.

'A salmon pie for me and the cod fishcakes for her, two glasses of water as well.' The waitress wrote the order quickly, before scurrying off towards the kitchen. It wasn't long before Seraphine began getting bored, and played with her table knife, the stainless steel tapping the table gently. He remained calm but the constant noise soon irritated him, and he knew she was doing it on purpose; just by the way, she smirked beneath her free hand.

He gave her one stern look, and she mockingly looked confused, as if she thought she wasn't doing anything wrong. It was quiet for a few minutes, before the infernal tapping began again, making him sigh loudly. Seeing that she was getting nowhere, she tried a different approach, Seraphine started to hum to herself.

'Seraphine' He moaned, that was what she had reduced him to, _moaning_. 'I'm tired and hungry…please do not give me a reason to ground you.' He replied softly, hiding his irritation well.

'Well, if you didn't stay up all night improving your _experiments _you wouldn't be tired and hungry. Anyway, when you ground me, all you do is lock me up in my bedroom for a few days.' She shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, but he had gotten the same punishments if not more severe, and he hated being locked in his room.

'Exactly, it's supposed to teach you that boredom is the price to pay for doing something wrong.' He replied, but she simply uses the statement to her advantage.

'That's rich coming from a criminal, I'm sure you've done more wrong than me and _you've _not paid the price.' Her comebacks always leave him speechless, unable to find words to make him right, it only made him realize just how brilliant her mind is. Even as a ten year old, she could make him think twice to what he had previously said and she was able to keep up with his teachings. School was the more suitable place for her education, but him being a wanted criminal, he had to tutor her himself. However, most of his teachings only proved her smart ability, even when he decided to teach her some psychology; she was able to answer his questions with ease.

'The difference between a criminal and a ten year old is a long one, and who's to say I haven't paid the price? To the corrupt society, I betrayed my fellow co-workers as well as the asylum, thus stripping me of being a doctor.' Admittedly, he didn't care much about what people thought of him, but it did prove his point.

'That's just bull-' He cut her off with a raised hand, not wanting his henchmen's influence on his stepsister to be heard in a public place. Unfortunately, that was one thing he could not stop, his henchmen were the few idiots he could trust with her and when he was busy, at least one of them had to keep an eye on her. Of course, there were side effects. Seraphine was never one to swear, but even she could lose control much as he could.

The waitress returned with their meals before Seraphine could say anything else, and placed them delicately on the table.

No sooner had they begun to eat their food, the smell of flowers filled the room. Jonathan sighed, not in the mood for _her _of all people. Many people's heads turned to the door, and the men's mouths opened wide. Poison Ivy, or Pamela Isley as a few people knew her as, walked into the room. Her famous tight dress of green leaves and vines was enough to make people love her; however, Jonathan knew better than to fall for the temptress.

He continued to eat his food, though he noticed that Seraphine had seen the green woman. He didn't really want to explain botanical biochemistry at the present time, and would much rather leave without Ivy seeing either of them. His dream was short lived as green eyes found the pair in the corner of the room, the eyes focused mainly on the child. Ivy walked over to the pair, green heels clacking on the floor. As she reached them, she saw Jonathan and decided to humiliate the sour man.

'So it _was_ you Ichabod, I haven't seen you since the high school prom.' The green woman watched as Jonathan turned bright red, something that always followed by ear-splitting screaming. He didn't look at her, but replied all the same.

'It has been too long Miss Isley, good to see you so confident.' She hid a death glare, hating her shyness back in high school being mentioned. She wore a seductive smile as she saw the child opposite Jonathan, a slight confusion on her face.

'Oh, and who is this cute little thing?' She said in a baby voice, only given a disgusted look by the child.

'This my dear, is my stepsister Seraphine. Seraphine this is Pamela Isley or better known in the criminal web as Poison Ivy.' Judging by Seraphine's reaction, she doesn't need to be told why this woman got her name, the woman's green poisoned filled lips said it all. It isn't long before Ivy gets bored with the two sour people, and stormed off to find some unlucky imbeciles willing to be her minions. Once she is out of sight behind one of the red curtains, Seraphine asked one of the more unimportant questions.

'What happened to her, and how did she know you?'

'Your first question is a tale for another time. And to answer your second, I we were in the same year at high school, though we never interacted much.' He answered immediately, wanting to leave it there, but it only made Seraphine more interested.

'It's hard to see you as a teenager; I imagine you always being mature and a loner. What did she mean about your high school prom?' He sighed again, his tiredness now reaching breaking point.

'After the exams, the school decided to _treat _us with a prom. I originally planned not to go, thinking more about university than a silly dance. However, a friend of mine wanted to go, though I wondered why since he hadn't been acting himself for the last few weeks. In the end, both of us went to the prom and Miss Isley sat with us. We talked, and nothing more happened that night, as soon as the night was over I left without my friend.' He finished and picked up his knife and fork again, ready to eat his meal while it was still warm.

'Why did she call you Ichabod?' He ignored the question and went back to eating, and soon enough Seraphine did the same, if not slightly annoyed by being ignored by her criminal stepbrother.

* * *

Phoenix whines inside my head the whole time I walk home, giving me an excruciating migraine that threatens to rip my forehead apart. The walk home is easy, my confidence growing through my long nights out in the criminal world and making me see darkness as a friend. The rain, however, is problematic, as I have no umbrella or hood to shelter myself from the rain. Instead, I simply sprint home, trying not to get too drenched as the rain becomes ever heavier.

The lamps placed above the roads brighten the Gotham streets slightly, but they don't light up the dark alleyways. Not many cars are screeching at this hour of night, only a few dare to be seen out on the roads, most probably ready to make a theft. It isn't long before I come to my apartment building, as I stare up at the dismal place, I remember the night that made me leave.

I rush inside and the rain droplets fall from my coat and onto the flooring, earning me a glare from an elderly woman waiting at the elevator. I ignore her snobby attitude, too worn out to care. Unfortunately, I have to bear witness to Phoenix wanting to take control; I pull her back, not wanting to make a scene. She curses at me but I remain calm as I stand next to another elevator, away from the elderly woman.

The elevator doors open and I step inside, me being the only occupant as I tap the illuminated number thirteen, dying to take the soggy trench coat off. The elevator climbs up the levels, making my stomach twist as it stops at my level. The squeaks as the metal doors open only help depress my mood.

_You can't sleep yet Hannah, remember we gotta catch that green rat. _Phoenix reminds me and I result to groaning like a teenager, my limbs are too bruised as it is, my earlier midnight jaunts happening to involve many thugs that actually knew how to fight.

I stumble to apartment forty-three and crouch to get the key under the floorboard, this being a good hiding place instead of a welcome mat. I search for the key, but my fingers don't feel anything except a few cobwebs, a little confused, I push the door and find that it opens. I step inside; forgetting that when a door is open, it usually means an intruder is inside.

Before I can react, a metal object is placed against my throat and I am forced against the now closed door. My eyes look in front of me, startled from the surprise attack. Phoenix quickly takes control and forces the object from our throat, and punches the owner in the nose. The owner stumbles backwards, thinking that they had had the upper hand and lands on their back. Phoenix returns to the back of my mind, proud of her quick will to act.

I look at the object that had been forced at my throat, and to my horror, I see it's a question mark cane. Before the owner can come to their senses, I snatch the object and hold it menacingly at the owner. The Riddler raises his hands defensively, though a spark of anger in his green eyes because he had been beaten by a girl, much less being beaten by his old friend. He carefully rises to his feet, making sure he did nothing to make me swing the cane at his head.

'How did you get in here, why are you here?' I ask hysterically.

'Careful now detective, I'm the one that asks the riddles.' The hiss of venom reminds me that this isn't Edward anymore, this is The Riddler. Keeping the cane within swinging distance, I see that The Riddler is just as drenched as I am; even his glasses are speckled with raindrops. The water dripping onto the wooden floorboards, another thing on my to do list, my to do list mostly full due to the amount of criminals.

Now that the initial panic has subsided, I feel calmer and am not as quick to act rationally, not wanting The Riddler's blood on my hands.

_Now's your chance, we can send his butt to Arkham. _Phoenix remarks in my head, but I ignore her input and drop the cane on the floor next to my feet. The Riddler doesn't seem surprised at the action, and remains solemn as he tries to find words to change the awkwardness.

'Soft and fragile is my skin, I get my growth in mud, I am dangerous as much as pretty, for if not careful, I draw blood. What am I?' He asks the riddle without hesitation and my mind deserts me as I try to answer the riddle. From what I've seen of The Riddler, whoever doesn't answer his riddles ends up dead…I really need to get this riddle correct.

_Don't ask me, I hate riddles. _Phoenix says in my mind as I begin to try to form an answer.

'The answer is a thorn; now get out of my apartment.' I demand, seeing it better to follow him once I'm dressed in my costume, rather than immediately try and arrest him. However, he doesn't seem to be leaving and chuckles slightly to himself.

'Normally that would be right, but it is incorrect…The answer is you. "Soft and fragile is my skin", your skin as paled since the last time we met though I have wondered how. "I get my growth in mud", we were both raised in the lesser parts of Gotham and I'm sure the next part doesn't need to be explained. And finally, "for if not careful, I draw blood", as I recall, this isn't the first time you've hit me.' As he finishes explaining his riddle, I can't help but feel slightly flattered at his words. Unfortunately the mad gleam in his eyes and his flamboyant costume, tells me he isn't here to flatter me.

He analyses me for a few seconds, then proceeds to make himself comfortable on the couch, bringing confusion to my mind. He takes his glasses off and uses a white cloth to clean the raindrops off them, then placing them back on his nose. I stand at the door, not sure of what I'm supposed to do. I can't exactly leave The Riddler and run out of the apartment, he could probably catch me anyway. I can't just kick his ass as that would reveal my secret identity, I have very few options at all.

_Just tell him to leave, if he decides to kill you, he looks like a wimp and I could beat him easily. _I hear Phoenix say, always reading my thoughts like clockwork. I continue to ignore her, focusing on the riddle weaver in front of me, him more of a dilemma than a voice inside my head.

I can't help but picture him as Eddie, the abused boy that was unable to stand up against his father's fists. I want to see that boy again, say I'm sorry, tell him why I became what I am. However, I know the boy is gone; he will never come back as this criminal takes his place. The Riddler twiddles his thumbs, leaving me speechless, as I have no idea how to act. Phoenix threatens to take control, but I push her back, thinking he will know the change.

'Get out of my apartment right now, or so help me I will-'

'Put on your little costume and prance around Gotham to search for me?' The interruption reveals my worst fears, he _knows, _the question is how he knows. I don't want to ask it now, wanting this obsessive out of my apartment as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, he turns to me, a smirk placed on his face. 'So Phoenix what is for dinner, I'm famished.' The ordinary question a surprise, there is no hint of arrogance, just his natural voice. I stand there, speechless again as The Riddler acts as if I _want _him here.

'What…No, what?' Is all I can muster out of my mouth, my tongue unable to form a sentence. He sarcastically looks confused, making hand gestures as if this is a game.

'And there was me thinking you had made something special for a reunion, pity.' He sighs, everything about this drawing me out of my comfort zone.

_I know; let's poison him _I hear Phoenix suggest.

_No, what good would that do? _I retort, Phoenix more annoying than usual. She leaves a few seconds of silence, and then proceeds to answer with a bored tone.

_Means one less criminal to send to the nuthouse _it is true, but I promised not to kill unless absolutely necessary. Phoenix of course doesn't agree with it, but we somehow come to a compromise with whatever decision that blocks our path. While I talk to Phoenix, I don't realize that The Riddler is watching me, my eyes glazed as I ignore his presence.

He can tell something has changed, seeing me so different as an adult, though he doesn't dwell on the past. Eventually he stands, walking over to me with ease, his movement catching me off guard. I automatically go to punch him, but he dodges the attack and pins me against the door, raising my arms so my hands are level with my face. The gleam in his eyes remain, the green contaminated with a sickly green. I feel paralyzed, his grip stronger than I had imagined.

I see his features more clearly, his brown hair deep and slightly spiked at the edges, either from lack of brushing or because he styled it that way. His glasses are silver around the edges; the lenses a circle shape that cover both his eyes perfectly as he stares through them at me. His face soft without any stumbles, meaning that when he rubbed them earlier in the torture room, it was just a bad habit.

He lets go of my arms, staring at the floor as not to meet my eyes. The back of my head hurts slightly from the impact, but it's nothing aspirin can't fix, me being used to these headaches. He backs away from me, fearful at his own actions, fearing that he lost control. I firmly slap him around his soft face, my hand burning from the impact, but his shocked face is worth it. A large red handprint is now seared onto it; he places his own hand over the top, the warmth vibrating against his long fingers.

'What was that for?' He shouts like a small child being told off, I just stare at him angrily.

'For being an arrogant child…and for using me in one of your death traps.' I say, my eyes now blazing. He simply rubs the mark, pouting slightly as he sulks, and I realize just how crazy he really is.

'All I was going to do was take you out for a meal; you didn't have to hit me.' He sneers, but I look at him as if he's lost it, forgetting my little friend in my head.

'I'm sorry, but when a criminal moves towards you, normally your first reaction is to hit him.' I begin to shout, anger now spilling from my tongue. He smirks under his hand, treating this as a game.

'Then I accept your apology, shall we?' He motions to the door as if he didn't hear anything I've just said. I again find myself speechless, the third time tonight, Edward making me speechless.

_No…this isn't Edward, this is The Riddler! _I tell myself firmly, keeping this statement alive rather than fall into the abyss.

'No, I will not have dinner with you, now leave.' I say firmly, but it doesn't make any effect, he just shrugs his shoulders.

'Very well, but I'm not leaving until I have something to eat.' I moan in frustration, all of this turning my headache into a full on migraine.

_Hannah…don't you dare _Phoenix warns, but as I always do, I ignore it.

'Fine, I'll have dinner with you, but it means _nothing_. This isn't a date, and I have no interest in you.' I whisper, my voice being used too much this evening. He brightens, removing his hand from the mark and places it at his side.

'Likewise, just a friendly reunion of old acquaintances. Nothing more, nothing less. It just so happens I know a lovely little Italian place on nineteenth street, I think you'd find it appetizing.' The arrogance is back, louder than ever against my eardrums, almost spilling red blood out of the canal. He turns and grabs his cane, spinning it and then lets the tip hit the floor near his feet with a small click. He unhooks his arm for me to take, but I simply open the door and walk out into the hallway, letting him follow.

_We need a serious talk, we're a team, we make the decisions together. _Phoenix says sternly as The Riddler slips through the door as I begin to close it.

_It was the best way to get him out of the apartment, and I was here first, so it's _my _decision. _I answer; a little disgruntled at the turn of events. I lock the door, wanting nothing more than to be on the other side then with The Riddler. He cocks a brown eyebrow, before striding down the hallway, ushering me to follow. I follow suit, knowing that hiding wasn't the best course of action…I just hope this night will end without my blood being sprayed along an alleyway.

* * *

**I know towards the end it isn't very good, but that was around the time the word document stopped responding and i had to do EVERYTHING again. I have used the costume and a line from the arkham asylum and arkham city games, because i loved both of them so much. I was disappointed with how the riddler looked (as quite a few people did) but his costume was awesome. Can't wait for Arkham Origins comes out, the demo looks awesome, REALLY want to play it now!**

**Thank you everyone, and review as always.**

**~ GothGirlStrikesAgain**


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Batman Begins/Dark Knight, Friendship, Hurt-Comfort