When your moon is fake,
And your mermaids cry,
Do you ever believe you were stuck out in the, Sky,
Peephole - System of a Down

Copyrights: I do not own Edward Nygma/Nashton or anything that belongs to Batman. If I did, I'd be a rich son of a bitch who wouldn't be writing this. And also, Arkham Asylum isn't a cake walk.

Dedications
Brandy: You're my best friend and I don't think I would've gotten to writing this thing unless you kept hounding at bunches for helping me out. And thanks for not eating me alive.

1ne

To meditate or ponder heavily upon.

Contemplate.

Early in development.

Precocious.

Biting down lightly on the pencil's eraser, Edward squinted his eyes to look down at the crossword puzzle before him. He was tightly grasping onto the paper in front of him. This was simply outrageous! In this room, in this cell, in this hell, he thought he could find something of the kind to actually kill the hours he had to spend in here. Exactly twelve months of imprisonment. All of the villains usually got a life sentence unless they got out for 'good behavior'. Frankly, Edward Nygma was the only one who actually got out due to good behavior. At rare times did he ever think or even go as far to planning a break out, and the plan worked. His plans always worked. For some reason, though, he just didn't get enough thrill of breaking out of Arkham.

A word that describes any kind/form of action.

A sudden ripping sound was heard.

Edward dropped the paper onto the ground and stood up slowly from his bench that was chained to the wall. This was ridiculous. That crossword puzzle was for five year olds! Sighing, he plopped his butt back down on the bench and hung his arms over his legs idly, looking back to the crossword puzzle. He thought it was for five year olds, but he will admit that it probably would be hard for a few. Of course, though... He was intelligent. Probably the most intellectual being a town like Gotham could offer. Edward leaned forward and pinched his finger and thumb around the eraser, plucking the utensil easily out of the paper. There was now a hole in the paper. He looked back to the paper and licked his lips. Then he sighed and picked up the crossword puzzle, using his holding hand as cardboard per say.

He pursed his lips out a tiny bit in frustration. Frustration towards crossword questions was okay, but he was frustrated at how easy they actually were. This was no way a man like him could actually live in Arkham. Sighing, he dropped the two items onto the ground and raised his head slowly, now leaning against the wall. Of course, Arkham Asylum wasn't full of the stereotypical 'loony' rooms where the floors and walls were literally covered with white pillows so the maniac could bounce around happily. Edward discovered that a long time ago. Even he predicted it wouldn't be like what the movies imaged it like. He guessed that Arkham just didn't want their patients to have a fun time. He knew he wouldn't. Especially the very first time he came here.

"I'm... Batman!!" Edward shouted as he was flapping his arms furiously.

Of course, that was because his mind was literally sucked out of his scrawny body. He closed his eyes and intertwined his hands together, hearing a soft clapping sound to accompany the rather laid back movement. He still remembered the day of how he actually got his mind back. Simply put, he was basically in a coma. Not the a coma where you had to be taught like a baby, but the a coma in which your knowledge basically just drew a...blank.

Now, it may seem silly...but, the way Edward remembered it was just like in the television shows. You get bonked on the head and there it all was again. To Edward, it should've been way more climatic. About as climatic as a lady falling off the Empire State Building should've been. That was him being easily entertained, though. He enjoyed being entertained. Though, he really didn't get much of a thrill of hanging out with Two-Face. It was fun due to the long-run, but Two-Face just seemed too...close to him. People getting too close with him always made him uptight and insecure. He didn't know why, but he always tensed up bad when a girl and a man got too close to him. Maybe he just wasn't as sexually active as he thought he was. As always, though, he wasn't one to admit that he was wrong about his own self.

He smiled, despite all of the racing thoughts. He crossed his arms coolly over his stomach and leaned much more comfortably back against his cell's wall. Of course, he used to think he was rather...as some would call it: sexy. That was his own opinion, though. Although, he didn't really like being wrong. Whenever he was wrong, he would force all-nighters upon his body to actually find out why he was wrong. There was rarely a time where someone called him wrong, and he had forced himself to accept it. Sometimes, though, he had actually been forced to face the fact that he was downright wrong. Even though, Edward can barely count a time where and when he was actually wrong. So what was the point?

There was no point.

It was like searching for the end of the Earth. What was the point in that, again? None. What was the point in trying to figure out some random villain's true identity? None, really. It was impossible in all ways. No matter how hard you will try, they'll just cover it up again and again. What's the answer to that riddle perhaps? They're the same person. Was it really that complicated? Well, it depends on the person who is thinking about it. Maybe if you were a child, perhaps, you would be able to get it. Child's minds are much more fragile to the obvious. "Why don't you just pick the same guy as before?" Edward blinked. He was astounded that he had actually said what was supposed to be in mind out loud. Oh well, it didn't hurt anyone. Not that he would've cared if it did hurt anyone.

Was he just simply sick like that? He wasn't so sure. Edward wasn't so sure about one thing. Was he just sick? Was he just disturbed? Or was there something really wrong with him? A hand lifted to place itself against the left side of his face. All this thinking, and not enough answers. This was quite a treat for his brain. He was going to go back and answer all these questions? No'siree. There was no complete and utter way to go back and answer those questions. Edward took his hand away from his face then looked down at it. The fingers were clearly twitching. These unanswered questions were making his brain hurt. His eyes widened only for a moment's time before they formed back to normal size. Quickly, his hand frantically moved against the left side of his face. Then the right. His hand was taken away soon after as he looked down to his hand. He smiled. No blood from thinking so hard was found on his palm.

Edward slowly stood up from the seat. He glanced around the cell then looked back down his palms. It was rather clear that his fingers were still twitching. His head slowly lifted back up to look at the door. He had thought that the door was open, but he was wrong about that, too. His eyes suddenly opened wide towards himself being wrong. Forcing himself back down against the chair, he breathed rather harshly to himself. Trembling, his hands reached up to tightly grab onto his head. He could feel his fingers barely grasp any of the red tinged hair. Sometimes, it was difficult to determine rather it was nice to be thinking about all of this. Or would it be nicer if he hadn't even gotten so revenge-stricken when Wayne rejected his project?

He smiled.

Why was he saying that? He couldn't be honestly insulting himself. That's just silly! Edward sighed as he was off of the seat, walking over to the door. His hands placed their selves neatly and politely on the bars. This was starting to get boring. He needed someone to join him. Then again, he knew that the employees wouldn't trust anyone in a room with him. He was just too easy to be beaten up or subject to a few...painful consequences. Edward turned his head, trying to peak out into the hallway. Well, he knew one thing. That thing was that Arkham Asylum was rarely peaceful. This was an exception. The hallways were quiet. No one was screaming. Not even Bane, who was normally screaming random phrases that sounded unintelligent. He had some ideas why Bane would be screaming such phrases, but it was funny to let others ponder. Always the one to be smiling, people suspected if it was he who made Bane so pissed. That was impossible, though. Bane was all the way on the other side. Maybe it was Poison Ivy who was being rather flirtatious again... He smiled at the thought.

His hands stayed plastered around the bars, as if they were meant to stay there. To be honest, Edward rather enjoyed the smooth metal. It was weird, though. Arkham was a shithole, but the bars were so clean. So clean that the bars were shining whenever light hit them. It amused him to see the awe on faces of new criminals that he's never seen before, but still knew a handful about. His eyes glanced up to look up at the ceiling through the large cracks between the bars. A smile still on his face, Edward leaned forward which, unintentionally, let his chest press up against the metal door. The metal door, on the other hand, was rusty and rough. Weird, indeed... Edward laughed as he slowly took his hands away from the easily admirable bars. He just knew that if he kept his hands on the bars any longer, it would've triggered some sort of alarm that would cease the peacefulness he had missed in so long. Damn Arkham for being so crafty now these days.

It was a cake-walk to break out back then, but they had learned from their mistakes. Why did everyone have to learn from their mistakes, Edward wondered. Although, he found it kind of funny that people normally go hysterical over discovering their mistakes. He will admit, though, that he sometimes would throw a hissy fit of not knowing his faults sooner. He would never admit it in public, though. Edward leaned back and looked up to the ceiling, letting out a slight maniacal laugh. Of course, after he was done, someone just had to scream, "Shaddyup, I'm trying to sleep!" Edward cupped his hand over his ear and leaned towards the barred window. He grinned, his two front teeth showing and hovering a bit over his lower lip. It was silence for the moment...

"Shaddyup, I'm trying to sleep!" Someone shouted.

"Why don't you shut up first, ya conk!?" Another person shouted.

Soon after, a few other people joined in. Now it was another ruckus that Edward had intentionally caused. It was about time for some anarchy in Arkham. Edward giggled and jumped up and down, clapping his hands together wildly. The more people that shouted, the more Edward laughed. It was so hilarious to him that he had actually stumbled back. Before he had time to react, his arms flew out and flailed wildly. A loud thump was heard from his back hitting against the hard floor. His face was pinched up into tight and real pain. Man, did that hurt. Edward rarely had time to experience pain, and this pain just hurt. He forced his face to return back to normal as he looked to his left arm. It was planted against the ground. Then he turned his head to look to the left arm. That, too, was planted against the ground.

"..."

It was silent again in the hallways.

Edward then smiled broadly. He turned his head to look back up at the ceiling. The dark colors were mostly covered up by shadows due to the cell having lack of lights. His teeth bit down harshly on his lower lip. A snort escaped his lips. His arms reached out towards the ceiling, making grabby hands at the shadows almost. Suddenly, then, he burst out into manical laughter again. Edward had felt how his arms had suddenly thrown their selves against his stomach, but he couldn't believe that how the uproar he had caused had ended so early. So, so early... It was almost like...an abortion or something. Edward tried to force himself to stop laughing before he cried. That was already too late, though. Tears were gradually rolling down his cheeks as he couldn't stop laughing. Finally, another shout echoed through out the hallways of Arkham Asylum.

"I said shut up!"

Edward still laughed.

"How about you shut up!? Dammit all!" A different voice.

Edward laughed even louder now.

A few more sentences rung out through the hallway as Edward continued to laugh. Finally, something in Arkham that actually entertained him! As the shoutings got more louder, the lights in the hallway all blacked out as if it were a warning to shut the fuck up. Edward opened his eyes slowly as he now noticed his room was completely dark. His laughter had finally died away into the darkness, not even bothering to offer an echo for company. His purple colored eyes slowly looked to the side, barely seeing anything. All he saw were the words scribbled with barely there green marker: "RIDDLE ME THIS, RIDDLE ME THAT". It amused him at how sloppy his hand-writing could actually get when discovering that the marker had barely any ink left. He had gotten desperate in that time and had almost literally broken down when he thought that his trademark phrase wouldn't be finished.

"Gaaah!" Edward screeched as he slammed the marker against the wall, trying so hard to get in the capital lettered "THAT".

His eyes looked over to the other side, seeing some kind of phrase. Slowly, he stood up from his spot and paced over to the wall. Not even knowing how far it was, he suddenly banged into the wall. His nose smashed in on its self, but thankfully wasn't broken so it easily popped back to normal. Edward sniffed, making sure to snort up the blood before it was anything serious right now. He would wake up and complain about waking up to a nose bleed just to annoy the hell out of the employees. That's just how much fun he had and not even giving a damn about their choices in life. It was their choice to work here, they should've expected him to be here. Maybe they're just really stupid. Edward snorted then turned his head back forward to look at the wall. He now saw what was wrote on the other side of the wall.

A bunch of scribbles of his plans to break out previously were on there. All of them worked. So, this was his cell all along. That overjoyed him to no end as he began jumping up and down, clapping his hands together again. He giggled. Then he came to an abrupt stop and looked to the side with his eyes. Purple hues flashed as he looked around for the same color of marker. If he had used the same color of marker, they could simply think of it as boredom doodles. The room was just too dark and they were all assured that Arkham is "bullet proof". Hah. Hahahahaha. Edward laughed to himself. He would just love to ask why villains kept breaking out. Then he laughed out loud again. It was still not silence, so why not? No one had taken heed to the warning. Edward then slapped his hands over his mouth and he turned his head slowly to the door, which was over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed. He had thought he had heard someone walk on by. But no... No, he would never admit to him being wrong about the door. Again.

Edward smiled broadly now.

Maybe he wasn't wrong. He watched the door slowly open. It creaked. Edward reached up with his hands, tightly clenching them into fists to rub his eyes. As he rubbed his eyes, the door seemed to be closing. As soon as he took his hands away, the door was closed. Maybe it hadn't opened. So, did that make him wrong two times in a row maybe? No. That was just impossible. He wouldn't admit to being wrong two times in a row! Two times! That was just unbelievably. Then he sighed, sighed for once that wasn't at all entertained as he then leaned against the wall. His left leg crossed over the right leg as he looked to the door.

Sometimes, Edward began in his thoughts. Somehow, though, he couldn't bring himself to keep talking to himself in his own thoughts. Edward laughed, though, but it was a light laugh. The silence had finally overcome the ruckus. Everyone seemed to have always fallen asleep due to the silence. Edward couldn't though. He had to fall asleep with someone or something making a lot of fuss in the background. So, he was stuck staring at the door. Could this be counted as being alone? Well, he was in a room. And he was with no one else but himself. His thoughts didn't count either, because he liked being unfair to himself for some strange odd reason. Hopefully it wasn't something he liked getting off to. Despite all of his fumbling thoughts, he looked to the door.

Sometimes... A man could just get so lonely, even one with a smile on his face.