The Universe's Mixer

Backdated to December 25 at 5:30 pm

They'd spent all day preparing for Christmas dinner. The cottage itself was decorated inside and out. A fire crackled and roared merrily in the hearth. A lovely silver and blue tree quietly twinkled in the corner closest to the door. A larger-than-usual table took up most of the great room, and it was set to perfection with bright and creamy china, sparkling goblets, silverware that gleamed, poinsettias and pinecones and ham and mashed potatoes, tarts of every kind, salad, green bean casserole -- and oh, every holiday food imaginable! The wine selection was top-notch (after all, Beauty was French!), and the hostesses themselves were grinning ear to ear with excitement.


Under the tree, tiny presents waited - hostess gifts designed to surprise and delight!

At 5:30, Beauty went to the door and stood, bouncing on her toes, and waiting for the very first knock.

Edward walked slowly into the Warehouse.

It had been a trying day, celebrating without the love of his life. His heart yearned for Jonathan, burned for him despite the betrayal from Scarecrow and the wish he had made at the tree he knew was petty. Who could really ever feel peace? Would could make such a wish come true?

The air was cold in the Warehouse, stale almost. Edward's cane clicked tenderly against the tiled floor as he took a step, unaware of what lay in store for him.

With a sigh the gangster pushed open another door and there it was. A Christmas tree.

He couldn't recall having erected one due to the fact of being utterly alone for the holiday itself. Sure, he had Effie but she had her own family to tend to. And the criminal was forced to settle alone in the dark, vacant warehouse and stew.

But this was a surprise in itself.

"Effie?" This had to be her doing. He couldn't think of anyone else. Definitely not something Beauty would attempt. Not Dinah or Bruce....definitely not Tony.

He approached the tree with caution until he saw what lay beneath it on the skirt. Wrapped around the body itself was a festive bow of his favorite color and instantly the cane tumbled from Edward's long fingers as he halted in surprise.

"Baby?" He blinked, seeing Jonathan laying peacefully beneath the decorated tree. He finally moved forward without the cane and knelt to the skinny, bow-adorned man and pulled the seemingly lifeless figure into his arms. Everything might be right after all. It was Christmas, of course.

Maybe, just maybe it was a wish come true after all.

By now, The City had watched many of its denizens celebrate this thing called 'Christmas' and it was beginning to understand it better. It was a time for fir decoration. A time for singing songs. A time for creamy or apple flavored beverages. There were also presents.

The presents were the most interesting things to The City. It understood that the presents were designed to be special. To be meaningful. To express care. And The City did care about its people. Very much.

This year, it decided that it would participate in this 'Christmas.' And it wanted to participate in a big way.

A Douglas Fir sprung up overnight, positioned in the heart of The City. It was huge, dwarfing most multi-level buildings, bedecked in oversized copies of the decorations that previous and current citizens had used on their own trees. The Christmas star dwarfed the moon in its brightness.

But what to do for presents? The City had seen that presents were supposed to be personal. They were supposed to be something that made sense for one to give to the other. But The City did not know how to give presents in this way. It tried to calculate what would be right for every citizen - and failed. At last, it decided that it would grant one wish to each citizen. Just one. And it would do its best to fulfill it in a personal way.

Walking was...difficult. Trying. But Heaven. He finally had his independence back...or at least some of it. And he needed to walk. It helped nurse the atrophied muscles in his knee and leg from having even broken and in disuse for so long. He had his cane if he needed it, which he had chosen for this very occasion. Otherwise he was restricted to using a crutch, and where was the class in that? There wasn't any. It screamed 'cripple' and Eddie didn't want that image. At least not today.

No no, today was far more important. He had business.

Playing hooky from physical therapy was doing wonders for his ego that morning, despite it being earlier than most were even up. The sun had even yet to fathom touching the horizon, much less rising to make its presence known. That was the way Eddie wanted it, though. The darkness was doing him some good, and the brisk air was doing its job in keeping him focused.

Edward had dressed for the occasion, as minuscule as it might seem. It was important evening the intended didn't even get to see him in action. He didn't care. The point was what mattered.

Slowly Eddie trudged down the sidewalk, cane holding most of the weight of his still stiff limb. He was dressed in his favorite green suit, with the exception of the usual bowler's hat, and green matching shoes. Tucked into the breast pocket of his suit was the handkerchief Beauty had given him. It was folded delicately, the embroidered red roses visible over the top part of the pocket for all to see.

Tucked under a slender arm was an envelope. It was green, as usual, and bore a green, glittery question-mark symbol on the front. A clear message that he knew the smart woman would pick up on. He only hoped that once she opened it she would understand the gravity behind the gesture. Something Edward never did for anyone.

He reached Bookmark Books in the next moment, pausing to peer in through the door at the dark store. Offering the glass his signature smirk, the criminal pressed the envelope against the pane on the front door where it would be visible. Where Beauty would see it. Or perhaps the other that worked here, the male, would find it and get worked up. That was alright with Eddie too, despite the consequences.

With the task done, Edward turned on his heel, slowly, and departed back the way he had come. He left naught but the envelope for Beauty, and hoped...prayed she would understand.

( The Envelope )

Edward grunted. He hated being ordered around and told what to do, especially by someone he hated with every fiber of his being, but his rational side always seemed to keep the criminal calm and collected. He knew he had to cooperate with Bruce for the time being, to get better and back to where he had been before the attack. There were so many things to heist and yet being in a wheel-chair sort of made those jobs difficult.

The physical therapy was agony on his newly mended leg. Bruce came by the warehouse every day at the same time to help Edward move his leg. The initial movement had been awful, but it had boosted the criminal's confidence exponentially. It meant he would walk again once this was all said and done. The flexing, lifting and rotating had been worse.

Minutes seemed like hours as Edward struggled to regain the use of his leg and knee, having had it broken in different places multiple times. Had it been allowed to recover from the initial blow from Annie, it would've mended in no time. But of course Edward's luck wasn't that giving. Scarecrow had broken it again, almost shattered the bone and Bruce had needed to repair the limb extensively before resetting and casting it to heal. Edward knew he would always have a limp in that leg. And the scars. But that was the price he had paid for his foolishness.

Bruce stood there beside the wheelchair, looking down at the man within it. "Alright Eddie. Are you ready to try walking in your own?" It was a stupid question in Eddie's opinion. Of course he was!

Edward lifted a hand, sliding his palm into Bruce's, as he struggled to get up. He set a foot on the ground, his good foot, the other remained on the pedal encased in a boot. His other hand gripped the handle of the chair, and when Bruce pulled Edward to his feet the criminal was then given a cane to use as a support.

"You're doing very well, Eddie," Bruce said softly as the criminal mastermind stood there at his full height. Eddie almost snatched his hand out of Bruce's grip, trying not to flail in the spot and managing. Slowly, Eddie took a step forward, using the cane as leverage to balance himself out. Oh if only Effie were here. She would be of greater assistance to him than Bruce, but she wouldn't let him out of her sight either which was something Bruce did. Eddie had more independence with his son-in-law, be it because the other man had better things to do or simply because he felt Eddie had earned it, the criminal wasnt sure. But he appreciated it.

He took three more steps and paused, taking in a breath of air. Then Eddie smiled. This was going to be a good day indeed.

Effie bounced up the stairs, her long pigtails swinging as she followed the officer to get changed from her prison oranges and back into her jeans and hoodie she had worn into prison. Once done, she bounced out into the visitor’s area, throwing herself on her father, hugging him tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Yes, she knew he had done bad and illegal things to free her, but she couldn’t stand another minute in there, and she certainly couldn’t stand going to Blackgate! There would be repercussions, questions...but the judge had freed her stating there was no evidence tying her to the murders beyond her own words, and words were not enough at this time to convict her…

..and so, she was free, questions and thoughts be damned. She was afraid, however, that she didn’t have anything to go home to. Bruce had never come to see her, and she doubted Tony would be as forgiving now. She clung to her father, suddenly terrified to leave.

( Jailbird Fly )

There had to be one stinking judge in this City that was as dirty and evil as Eddie was. Of course there was, and Eddie knew him well. What criminal didn't have a city councilman, a few policemen and a judge in their corner? Only the good villains did. Eddie had sworn to turn over a new leaf, and while the handkerchief with the embroidered roses sat folded and tucked into the front pocket of his jacket as a constant reminder of that, he couldn't...no, wouldn't let his baby girl rot in jail.

Especially when she had turned herself in.

Edward could get past that. Before the attack the old Riddler would've cursed the very ground Effie pranced upon but not now. Now he valued what little time they had together and she had just been to jail not too long ago. The slammer was not a place that Eddie was particularly fond of, and he knew the Gotham City prison like the back of his hand. If Commissioner Gordon had any brains in his head he would've joined up with Eddie and Jack a long time ago, and let the true rulers of the city blossom. But of course it had never been that easy. Bats was always making life so hard.

But not anymore.

Eddie finally had the ball in his court, and so he had managed to wheel himself into the courthouse without much help. The judge assigned to overhear Effie's case was the right man, because he could be bought and bartered with, which was a man Eddie liked to do business with.

Edward sat patiently in the judges chambers for almost an hour, using his wit and charm to schmooze his way into convincing the Judge not to convict Effie, his poor, crazy daughter, and even to let her go. Eddie would pay the ridiculously high bail, as well as give a little something to the Judge for his trouble. The process to negotiate had been a hard one, the Judge was greedy but Eddie could pay it. He could always come back later and...well, he would be good for now.

Stuffing his checkbook back into his pocket, Eddie smiled like the Cheshire Cat from Wonderland and wheeled himself out of the room. "Now to find my daughter and bring her home," Edward breathed, waiting for the police escort. This was the second time Eddie had sprung Effie out of jail and he wondered where her 'wonderful' idiot husband was. Bruce was the least of Eddie's concerns. Bruce and Effie were so deep in Eddie's pocket, and Stark knew it. Bruce probably did too. But Eddie wouldn't give him the benefit of the doubt. He didn't have to.

For now life could go back to normal until something else sprang up. If it did, Eddie would deal with it. If not then that was fine too.

"This way, Mr. Nashton," the officer said. Eddie only continued to smile and nod, wheeling after the uniformed man to the cells.

Edward hummed.

Baditz-Maru was settled happily alongside one part of Edward's work table, acting as a lookout and a penguin-shaped paper weight.

Eddie had his blue prints of the City Museum scattered around on the table inside of the room that Bruce had made for him. The door had been left ajar, because if he closed it the Brute armor got antsy and tried to bust it down.

So instead of being bothered, Edward compromised.

Sitting on the other side of his work table was a Jack-o-lantern that he and Effie had carved together. Of course it did look like a twisted version of Hello Kitty, but Eddie was proud of it anyway. And it made the room smell like pumpkin.

Edward etched over the blue print with a chalk pencil, humming as he marked exits, the things he wanted and security cameras on the paper. Nothing could dampen his mood today. Well, except for maybe his still healing leg.

( Breaking up is hard to do )

“DADDY!” Effie yelled as she ran into his room as he heard him having yet another nightmare, flipping on the light (before wincing at the brightness and flipping back off, instead turning on the small lamp by the bed), leaning on his bed as she wrapped her arms around him. “It’s alright, your safe…” she whispered. “I promise, it’s alright…”

--
At the sudden brightness of the light Eddie's pupils dilated and he was blinded. Another scream and he heard Effie's voice filtering through the fear.

His chest rose and fell at a rapid rate and his heart raced.

When his vision finally returned to normal he looked up at his daughter and shifted into her arms, curling his own around her desperately. Eddie buried his face against her shoulder and closed his eyes, trying to will his body to cease its shivering.

For a moment he took comfort from her, clinging almost desperately to her night clothes with his long fingers. And when his breathing finally began to steady Edward sniffled and pulled back some to look at his daughter.

He never wanted her to see him like this, weak and afraid. But he had been broken and he needed to mend. This was all he knew how to do.

( Nightmare Valley )

Effie gasped as she sat up, struggling to breath, a heavy weight on her chest and stomach. She raised her head, looking into honey brown eyes identical to hers, mouth opening to speak only to taste flesh as a hand slapped her in the face, long nails scratching her cheeks, drawing blood.

“The hell?” she asked, screaming as a hand fisted itself into her hair, jerking her head back to a painful degree.

“Poor, delicate little kitten,” Enigma hissed, looking down at her younger self. “All broken and falling apart. Stupid little whore. If you think for one. fucking. second I will let you destroy everything I have worked so hard for, destroy my life, you have another thing coming.”

( Spectral Expression )

The City had been eager to volunteer the whereabouts of Bruce Banner, and Beauty had been just as eager to follow the instruction. She had, that is, until she found herself standing in front of the warehouse at the very address the City had given. There were bright green question marks emblazoned on the brick, question marks that were terribly familiar. She didn't place them immediately, but foreboding filled her heart to the brim and overflowed into her hesitant movements, her quiet footsteps.

She tried the door, and whether it'd been left unlocked or the City unlocked it for her, she couldn't be sure -- but it opened all the same. Again, she tried to keep her footsteps quiet, but it was difficult in a place that seemed built for echoes.

"Bruce?" she called softly, and winced when her voice filtered seemingly through every corner. "Bruce Banner?" she called again, softer.

There was a grunt as Edward's long fingers curled adeptly around the large wheels of his newest mode of transportation.

He glided easily over the newly decorated floor of the warehouse, testing the mechanism out. It would have to do for now, of course, seeing as he wasnt up to taking it apart to create something better. But it performed up to par so Eddie couldn't complain too much.

He paused the chair, twisting the wheels so that the chair spun slowly around, testing the durability and handling.

There was no way the chair would outrun anything, but it would at least get him from point A to point B and back.

Today Edward was feeling well enough to attempt seeing the museum. He needed to case the place to get a feel for the layout and there was nothing better than seeing a floor plan and artifacts for yourself.

Bruce had made Edward a secluded workspace that was accessible by wheelchair to keep the evil genius busy and out of their hair.

Eddie shot the Brute armor that looked over them a hateful look, before spinning the chair around again.

He was as dressed as he could be with a cast and bandages, but some how he had managed his usual attire with a few modifications. He was without hat and cane, not having a need for those items at the current point in his life.

But being back in regular clothes was comforting. They weren't the ones from Arkham, Marcus had gone to get the criminal fresh ones. Edward wanted nothing to do with the crazy house for now. He considered everything of his that was there gone. Guns included.

It was rather disappointing, losing his guns. He'd had them for a very long time and his hands knew them as if they were appendages rather than metallic objects. Ah well. There were plenty more ( guns )

Tony returned to the tower with a short temper and shorter nerves. His girlfriend, the only person that really meant anything to him here besides his scientific counterpart, was still in the hospital, waiting for him to liberate her. But he couldn't do much. Jarvis had told him the medical equipment was already in use.

Quite peterbed that his own tower's medical gear wasn't available for his own use, he'd returned quickly and assessed the situation, finding an extremely beaten man in the medical quad. No doubt Bruce's doing, though Tony couldn't think of why he'd help somebody who showed up in none of Jarvis' databanks.

He entered the medical area briskly, eyes fixed on the medical bed.

"You," he said, a bit sharper than even his not-so-friendly usual. "Who are ( you? )

Bruce sighed.

It was hard to sit idly by while Edward was recovering but Bruce promised Effie that he would.

Bruce knew that Effie spent every waking moment she could spare down here with her father, at his side like a puppy would its master and Bruce hated Edward all the more for it.

Effie deserved so much better than Edward. She needed love, support and devotion. All Edward gave her were lies and false hope.

Bruce couldn't remember a time in their lives that Effie had truly been happy with her father. Any happiness she had shown was short lived at best, and although Bruce tried his hardest he knew in his heart that he would never have the place in Effie's heart that Edward did.

Eddie would always be number one. And Bruce wasnt exactly sure why. He wasnt sure why she continued to fall for the same tricks, why she allowed herself to be so blind when it came to Eddie. But maybe you did those things because you loved someone. God knew he did it himself with her.

Bruce sighed and looked down at the sleeping man, the beep of the heart monitor the only sound in the room.

Edward was lucky he was tucked safely away in a place with Heros. And that Bruce wouldn't harm him as long as Effie was around to need him.

Bruce knew how easy it could be to let Edward die. To give him too much medication, an overdose wouldn't look suspicious. Or an infection. All normal things.

Instead Bruce checked Edward's vitals finding them stable. He was a fighter, that was for sure. A man who had nothing to live for, betrayed by the man he loved and with only a daughter to care for him.

Bruce didn't understand it really. Why Eddie was clinging to such a miserable life. How easy it would be to succumb to the darkness, to accept the death that was knocking on Edward's front door.

Bruce pushed a button on the IV and a few drops of morphine was allowed to swim into Eddie's system. Bruce frowned and turned away from the man on the bed.

This was his fate, picking up the pieces of Eddie's life because those shattered remnants meant so much to his wife.

Edward was a burden that none of them needed but couldn't be rid of completely. It was tiring and often boring, but Bruce would do it.

He would do it for her. But only for her.

Beep...beep....beep....

That sound was becoming too much. Too definitive. Too real. That was the sound of defeat. The sound of his life hanging on by cables and wires.

Oh Scarecrow, what have you done?

Edward couldn't remember much. Some of the things his damaged brain showed him could've been a dream...a nightmare, or it could've happened in reality. The boundary between what was true and false was no longer there to separate the fantasy from the reality.
His mind was blending things together that shouldn't have ever been mixed.

Effie? Was that you?

Edward took a gasping, wheezing breath and he forced his eyes to open. Instantly the haze covering his vision was penetrated by the glare of harsh fluorescents.

A cough, and a shift which earned a grunt.

His body felt like it was made from cement, and boy did it itch.
Edward lifted a hand to scratch, or at least he thought his hand was lifting when really all his fingers were doing were clawing desperately at the sheet beneath him on the bed.

That's better.

A sigh, and finally after making his eyes open from the wince they'd taken Edward was able to see clearly. Or as clearly as he could. Had he a mirror Edward wouldn't have been able to recognize himself.

His face was swollen from the punch he'd taken which had resulted in the loss of a tooth, which was an underlying cause of the ballooned injury.

His body was worse, bandages covered his wrists from the burn he'd received during the constant struggle, the burn he'd taken on his thigh was wrapped and the 'S' shaped wound on his side was patched and mending. His broken leg was re-set and wrapped in a hard cast. Bruce had even pushed his arm back into socket.

Face numb, Eddie emitted a gurgle. His eyes swept the room and he was unable to place where he was. This wasn't familiar. Most hospitals looked the same...the bed with the curtain and the television in the corner playing some crappy show or infomercial.

This was entirely different. No television for starters, and it looked more like a lab than a hospital room. And where was the nurse?

With the tilt of his gaze, Edward looked for a call button, seeing nothing.

He shook, and winced as his body screamed for him to lay still. A whimper and Eddie obeyed. For once....God for once he obeyed.

( ...Ef-fie... )

(Note: NSFW: mentions of torture, blood, gore, domestic abuse and creepy rhymes that involve dead children)

Edward grunted as he sat in the office of the Asylum, one he knew all too well. There were one hundred and fifty tiles on the ceiling, the carpet was in pristine condition, the oak desk had many a stab mark or blemish from a bullet fired into it. Everything about the room said volumes to the man it belonged to.

The man that had managed to capture and hold Edward’s heart. Or what was left of it.

The couch had seemed the suitable seat of option, considering his condition.

He was still pissed that he had been sedated by Jonathan and despite feeling bad for shooting his partner, Edward chalked it up to having been deserved.

How was Eddie supposed to know there were tranquilizers in the gun instead of actual bullets? It was self-defense and an accident. Edward was full of accidents, but it didn’t matter.

Soon his plans would come to fruition and he could be happy. Once he had a dominant legacy, he could rest easier and take things slower. The climax was long-coming, but he would revel all the same when the moment came.

He breathed out a sigh of hope for things to come, and rubbed his long fingers absently over his re-set injury.

( The Fear of Love )

Edward had no idea how Jonathan's meeting with Hannibal was going. Part of him cared because of the confession by the Scarecrow. And part of him wanted to just put a bullet in Hannibal and be done with the whole mess, but he had bigger things to tend to. The part of his heart and mind dedicated to Jonathan was telling him that he didn't need to worry. Jonathan wasn't stupid enough to try anything that would jeopardize what they had, so Edward didn't let the presence of Hannibal get to him too much.

He had larger matters at hand.

A legacy to tend to.

Edward aspired to be the one man that had total control over the Incredible Hulk, to utilize that power and have it be at his disposal. He wanted something from his life to leave to his daughter when death finally caught up to him, and the green rage monster seemed too perfect.

Edward couldn't stop thinking about that power, that unlimited source of inner turmoil. And Bruce was the perfect target. He could be lured out of hiding, and Edward wasn't above using his newly fresh-minded daughter as bait.

All Eddie could do now was wait for Effie to deliver what she could get from the archives at Stark Tower, and then they could get the ball rolling. Edward finally would have a leg up, a purpose and it was driving him insane with glee.

He giggled and waited impatiently for Effie. Convincing her that Bruce was a bad person had been almost too easy. She was so eager to please, and Edward was taking full advantage of her in her current state. The fact that she couldn't remember vital details of their relationship as kin, and her relationship to Bruce, was a Godsend. It put her in a very delicate spot, and while Edward hated the very ground she walked on, it was nice to know he could use and manipulate her whole-heartedly to do his dirty work.

Had he access to the computers at the Tower, he would've gone himself to get the information. As it was, she was his key to what information the Tower held. And Edward knew that if anyone could get past the scientist, Effie could.

She had the power to limit Bruce's change, as well. Enigma was much smarter and more adept than this version of herself, so Edward did have to thank his daughter for that. The serum she came up with was genuis. But Eddie wouldn't let her have any of the credit. He would never admit to her that the idea was a good one. Not yet. She didn't deserve his praise.

When his leg was fully healed, Edward would be up and out trying to dig into Bruce's life to find an ultimate end for him. For now, all Eddie could do was sit and wait for all of his plans to come to light. It was going to be a difficult wait, but it was necessary.

For greatness. For fear, and ultimately for death.

Oh yes, there would be blood, but this time it would be green. Green, and perfect.

(Warning: Violence against loved ones)

Jonathan glared at his husband as he dragged himself into Jonathan’s office, highly tempted to shoot the man’s other leg and make sure Edward couldn’t leave the asylum. “I do so hope your day was productive,” he hissed, angrily signing his name to an order, tearing the paper.

He shoved the order away from himself, flinging the pen at Edward in frustration. “Have you re-injured yourself yet?”

--

Edward rolled his eyes at the angry tone of Jonathan's voice as he hobbled slowly into his husbands office. "It actually was very productive, thanks for asking."

Edward grumbled under his breath and settled himself down in a chair to get off of his leg. He couldn't help but smirk as the pen hit him, shrugging off the gesture of anger, "Not yet. It feels a little bit better actually."

Leaning back in his chair some, using his good leg to push the chair into a tilt, Eddie relaxed, "Effie put ice on it for me. She's a swell kid, you know?" His smirk widened, unable to help it.

"If everything works out, you'll have a new toy soon to play with, baby."

( Plotting a Date )

Edward grunted as he moved, his body taking painstaking care as it tried to shift normally so he could get where he needed. He didn't have to walk, but he had grown tired of the asylum, the constant screaming and crying was enough to drive him insane (more than he already was) and his restless nature wouldn't keep him down for too long.

Which is how he found himself in the warehouse, a place that seemed to call him back time after time. As if the place held a special meaning or spot in his heart. Like a home would.

Despite the pungent scent of old, dried blood, pet dander and bullet casings, Edward was finally able to claim some measure of solace.
He sighed, coughed, and huffed before settling down into a dander covered computer chair. A layer of dust coated Bruce's old workstation, the bunnies thicker on the floor. Edward had left tracks on the floor as he'd moved and even the bodies he'd left after his Death Trap were covered in the thick mat of dust.

He didn't care. None of that mattered. His mind was too busy trying to decide the best way to get back at that little bitch for dropping a car on him. He had just wanted to scare her, and she went and pulled a Hulk move.

Gritting his teeth, Eddie shifted in his seat. One palm was carefully wrapped around a crutch, the middle part but only to keep it upright, and the other palm curled around the top part of his cane. Edward had taken care of his cane in his down time, turning it into a Penguin-style weapon. It wasn't an umbrella, but it was close. And it could kill someone in a second. Oh death. Beautiful, wonderful death.

If only his death would stop evading him, perhaps he would actually be happy.

What was happiness anyway? Who knew. Who really knew.

( Liars and Cheats )

The night was still. Unmoving. Like a statue almost and it both elated and frightened Edward. He wasnt scared of many things to be quite honest but a quiet night made him paranoid. He wasnt a man for stillness. For quiet. Eddie didn't even sleep in the same position, if he slept at all, always needing motion. His body needed action, and his mind ran constantly so to have a moment of silence was awkward. And yet it was so peaceful.

His daughters absence spurred something in him he wasn't sure how to place. It was something he both craved and loathed. He craved it because she burdened him deeply. He felt that his life was cast to play every part for her, to work her towards a goal she continued to slip away from. He wanted her to be perfect, and he loathed her because she never truly could be. Not to him, anyway. His mind wouldn't allow it. Eddie would rather see his daughter void of life than living a falsity. Even her supposed happiness wasnt good enough. It was a show, an act that her mind projected to hide the true desires beneath. Those desires were what Edward craved to bring to light. To mold, to shape. He had instilled those desires within her and she was suppressing them.

Oh he hated her.

Jingle, jingle....

Then there came that jingle.

As he moved, the pockets of his jacket swayed with the motion of his legs as they carried him down the sidewalk. Within the pockets were bullets, a good many and the way they sang into the night one would think simply Edward had many coins hiding within the fabric. But they only wished to be coins. Instead, they were metallic cylinders that could take a life.

Edward had loaded up in hopes of finding someone to murder, as taking life eased his internal rage (the one thing he secretly shared with the Doctor) but he hadnt found a good enough target to satisfy his urge. His need.

With a breath Edward exhaled into the night. He floated down the street almost, in a daze as his thoughts over-rode his natural motor skills leaving his body in auto-pilot. He wasnt going to join the hunt to look for his daughter. If they found her dead it would be the light of his night. If they found her alive that would be alright too. He could just kill her.

Slowly, Edward continued to jingle along the sidewalk, passing shops and stores closed for the night as he walked like a shadow. His green suit jacket did well to conceal his weapons, and despite forgetting his cane at the Asylum, Edward felt quite safe. Quite safe indeed now that the silence had been thoroughly broken.