*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*Chapter 1*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

It was analysis, observation, inspection and best of all scrutiny – Oh yes – the overwhelming glare and hypnotic expression of one just plain staring at you. The cause to the effect that is confusion and awkward silence, which is exactly how Edward felt at the moment – if you can, of course, actually feel an awkward silence (silences in general thought to be quite hard to feel physically, theory disproved and said victim coming to a realization that they're quite easy to feel once noticed).

"Stop it."

The sound of his voice cut into the stagnant atmosphere like a knife.

His doll-like counterpart didn't seem to have heard at all – actually, the man who was doing all this intent looking had nothing but a total lack and void of any and all facial expressions, and if anyone didn't like being ignored, it was Edward Nygma, most commonly known as 'The Riddler'.

"Stop it."

Blue irises faltered not but continued to stare onward in a soulless penetrating gaze, adding discomfort to the list of things Eddie was feeling at the moment.

"Hey, what's an eight letter word for 'aggravating'? Hint: You're being it right now!" He didn't mean to sound shrill and cringed a little at the resonance of his own voice, shifting on his bunk, the ensuing creek echoed off the asylum walls.

As if that had flipped a switch, the Riddler's cellmate stiffened and righted himself. The pastel eyes that glared in such disconnect only moments prior suddenly grew bright and alert, refocusing on Nygma's face.

Jervis Tetch – or more aptly known as the 'The Mad Hatter' – had a puzzled look on his face and glanced around before he settled on staring across the room at the Riddler again.

"What?" Tetch asked, the word sounding more like 'Wot', a pleasant English accent belaying his scruffy asylum uniform clad demeanor.

"Cripes!" Edward gasped at the sudden aggravation, "What do you mean 'Wot'? You were staring at me." He made a mock dumb expression and tilted his head slightly, "Like this, just…. duuuuh."

"Really? Goodness…" A deep pause of relocation passed over the smaller man's features - the moment lasted so long that Nygma began to believe his cellmate had started up again.

"Hey!" Leaning forward he clapped his hands harshly in front the blank face.

"There's no need for that!" Jervis swatted the hands out of his face angrily. "I was daydreaming is all! Don't act so miffed."

"You looked like you were gonna eat me!"

There was a pause and Eddie just realized the absurdity of what he just stated - Looking at the man who was barely over half the Riddler's own height.

Tetch shook his head, it started small, but it grew before finally The Mad Hatter was laughing - louder than necessary - causing other inmates down the hall to start laughing in turn.

His eyes widened as Edward himself nearly started up as well with a small giggle in the cacophony but covered his mouth with a slap and took a deep calming breath. Reminding himself that – No - he was not crazy and thus did not laugh maniacally at nothing without reason.

"Argh! Stop it!" Riddler jumped off his bunk and ran to the glass wall of their cell that faced out towards the hall and slammed his fist on it with a resounding bang. That got about a half minute pause.

There was a giggle down the hall and Edward stiffened, then a chuckle then the whole place started busting up again, this time there was a mix of laughter and people banging on the walls just as Eddie had done.

The Riddler pressed his forehead to the glass and growled.

He wet his lips quickly, whispering at first to himself in thought, "I'm sad without tears…. No… no that's not right", as he continued his voice escalated, "I cry without tears, I'm cold without ice, I'm warm without fire, and felt without feeling, what am I!" He cried out passionately, his voice nearly drowning.

It took a while, but the question caused nearly all of the enthralled crazies to quiet down slowly and reconnoiter their new source of entertainment, even Jervis - who had fallen even deeper into his mania, a plastered grin in place.

"Is it tea, Eddie?" The blond giggled, clapping his hands hopefully, "It can be hot or cold, and it's liquid, thus it cries… sort of."

Edward rolled his eyes at the characteristic answer, "No, Hatter, that's awful. Tea is not the answer."

"Is it food?" Came a voice from down the hall.

"What? No!" Edward would've expressed amusement, but he didn't want to risk turning the whole asylum into a zoo full of laughing hyenas again. So, instead a small smirk crossed the brunette's face: a whole hall lined with super geniuses and psychotics of all types and all they had to offer him were dumb answers and silence…Blessed silence - Blessed thoughtful silence – His very favorite kind.

Across the room Jervis was watching as his friend slowly slipped to the floor of their cell, changing from a standing possession to a sitting, a content expression in place. The side of his head pressed softly to the glass as the wait for an answer to his riddle continued.

The Mad Hatter's most recent psychosomatic evaluation states that he as "Obsessive-compulsive" and "highly delusional" with a "childish self-image" suffering from "psychotic manic-depression". Sometimes, though, he has moments of "extreme clarity" and can clearly express himself without having to use any of Lewis Carroll's literary works as a crutch.

Jervis wasn't sure what "Extreme Clarity" meant. Well, he knew their literal meanings –Extreme… and, um, clarity. 'Extreme' means 'a lot', or perhaps 'tremendous' - but not physically. It was more of a… catalyst for other words - words like 'clarity'. 'Clarity' was another word for 'clear' which was another word for 'lucid'.

The blond looked around his cell, his eyes resting on the large glass divider that was the entirety of the wall in front of him. That was 'tremendously lucid' which made it an object with 'extreme clarity'. Tetch blinked and tilted his head in thought.

"Um… How is the Mad Hatter like a large window?" He muttered quietly to himself.

The brown haired man crouching in the corner perked up at the question, "They're easy to see through?"

"Am I truly?"

Riddler stared, "Well, yeah, sometimes."

Ah, yes moments of 'extreme clarity' and what not.

"What else?"

Nygma's electric green eyes focused on the glass, "When you look at them from a certain angle you may see your reflection."

"Oh, that's wonderfully poetic." Jervis closed his eyes and tried to imagine the horror some people would feel seeing themselves in him. It made him smile.

"And…" Riddler clicked his tongue thoughtfully "They're both extremely dangerous when devastated."

"'Devastated' is another word for 'Shattered' how very clever!" He said bowing a little modestly before adding shyly, "You think I'm dangerous? You're too kind."

A green stare eyed him apprehensively, "It's not really a compliment."

Jervis hummed a thoughtful noise in acquiesce before lifting his head, "It's always six o'clock now…"

The intellectual sighed, his friend was quoting Alice and Wonderland. He'd never actually read the book, but being roomed with Jervis has quite informed Nygma about its various nonsensical contents. Besides, he recognized the tone in the other mans voice. Tetch's moment of 'Clarity' had passed.

"You said it, Jerv'." Riddler turned toward the glass again, sad at the loss of his briefly sane conversation.

There was a loud slam from down the hall which drew the attention of all the inmates, causing them all to approach their respective windows. Edward closed his eyes and could feel the vibration of a guard's footsteps coupled with another as they made their way down the long hall.

Someone was coming home.

Jervis grinned like a maniac when into his view entered a Doctor Jonathan Crane, otherwise known as the infamous Scarecrow – self-proclaimed master of fear – restrained by a large sentinel, pausing right in front of his shared cell.

"Your hair needs cutting." the Englishman pointed before giggling happily.

Crane had spent the last two weeks in solitary confinement for being caught in an attempt to escape. Which was a pity, really: Jon suffered from multiple-personality disorder (along with other things), so thus – Jervis could only imagine – this 'punishment' only served to aggravate his condition.

The ruddy-haired man tilted his head in a jerky motion to meet the one who had spoken with a bent smirk that stretched liquidly over his pale features.

"How doth the crocodile?" Crane queried, his voice sounded hoarse. Probably from all the screaming and ranting he did in solitary.

"Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!" Hatter explained logically, then he looked down and motioned at the Riddler who was still sitting with his back to the window, "Curiouser and curiouser…"

Crain nodded sympathetically, "Have you been good to Edward?"

"Sat, Hat, Had, Bad, Bud." Riddler sneered before Hatter could answer.

"That's not true!" Jervis glared down at his petulant counterpart, "I've been good. Not annoying at all!"

Riddler barked a monosyllable laugh in response.

The guard that was with Crane stared blankly at the trio, then rolled his eyes before turning to quickly slide his keycard into the slot beside an empty cell directly across the hall of the Riddler and Hatter. He was used to this nonsense.

"You think it would kill you crazies to try having a normal conversation for once." The guard muttered, shoving Crane into the cell and closing it quickly.

"I-I hardly know, sir, just at present- at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then." Hatter tried to explain to the guard, which earned him an odd look coupled with a shake of the head.

"Ooookay," the guard said with a slight smile, walking away, "You guys have fun."

"Oh, you can't help that" Hatter nodded, happily calling after him, "We're all mad here."