(no subject)
Christmas came and went. Eddie was prepared to send out presents, which is highly important to do. However, it would not look good for him if he were shown to have any means of exerting influence when he's supposed to have turned himself in and resigned himself to treatment. Before he came into Arkham, he dismantled the arrangements he made. He sat in his cell and ran through his thoughts a hundred times, wondering what it is he could possibly give.
He wonders if his being here, what most everyone wanted, is present enough? Surely, his incarceration is that important.
The day after Christmas, he's been acting fairly normally. He keeps his cell clean, and leaps at the chance for friendly conversation. He's cooperative with the orderlies, takes his medication, and doesn't pick too many nits with the conditions he's being held in. He likes his presents. He gloats over the fact that he got some, a little, which goes a long way in improving his mood. Especially the book.
He hasn't been sleeping well, still. His medication helps, but he's restless in the early morning hours. Sometimes, he spends this time quietly talking with Dr. Crane. It's been gone most nights, since that initial conversation.
The conversations are always pleasant. Crane has found the way to get Eddie to talk is to get him to talk about himself. This isn't even challenging. He's already come a long way in earning the man's trust, or at least his attention, with a little patience for the man's ridiculous ego, and a little subtle flattery.
Eddie, for his part, imagines that he's somehow earned the doctor's ear, that he's interesting and intelligent enough to be an exception to his introversion and malice. His need to be exceptional makes a fool out of him. Jonathan knows this, and only intends to keep up this little game as long as he needs to, before he can make his final move. It does not take him long.
"I think it's interesting," Crane whispers, near the glass. He knows his neighbor is awake. Eddie sits up and leans against the wall near the window, so he can listen without having to see the condensation of his breath. Or look at him. The man's gaze is unsettling.
"What?"
"You won't lie."
That will hold Eddie in the conversation. He's proud of that fact. He likes to have that acknowledged, and to have that be dubbed 'interesting' is perfect bait.
"I don't," he whispers back, and that pride is clear in his voice.
"It's the most interesting thing about you," Crane continues, and that, at least, is not a lie. A subject's fears are always the most interesting aspect of their psychological makeup. "Of course, your adherance to that moral code falls in with your comorbid diagnosis. You haven't told me why, though... yet... why you won't lie."
"Deliberate falsification is wrong."
"You're not especially bothered when other people do it. Why is it different when you do it?"
"Some people can't get by without lying. It takes a certain skill."
"Ahah... it does, I know. It's certainly impressive... well. It would be, if more people believed that you were capable of it. Most people believe a person who says they won't lie is lying."
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, with a frustrated sigh. "Most people are too stupid to figure it out."
"So, you have to prove it to them. If they won't see your skill one way, you find another way to show them. It's quite clever. How did you come about it?"
"Oh, gosh... I've always had to come up with stuff. My parents always figured I was lying, on default." Eddie's tone is flippant.
"Did they punish you?" There is just a bit of an edge to Jonathan's voice, that sinks through the comfortable blanket of flattery, and causes Eddie to quirk a brow.
"All paren..."
"Did they hit you, Edward?"
"That's not what we're talking about..."
"Of course not," Crane says, tone distant, almost bored, now. "But they ignored you. They never believed you. But you... ran circles around them, pulled the wool over their eyes. You learned."
Eddie is much more keen on discussing how impressive he is, than his parents, so he only "mmhms" in acknowledgment, and waits for the conversation to change and continue.
"You've fine-tuned this persona of yours," Jonathan says. "With all your skills and methods of presentation. You're as proud of that as you are of your intelligence and your honesty. Do you find me intelligent, Edward?"
This is the most Jonathan has invited conversation about himself, in their little early-morning talks. Eddie hms. "I've heard about your work with the university and the asylum, and you've evaded capture longer than any of us have. I do not doubt your intelligence."
"But how many people have you met who match your intelligence?"
"One."
"And how do you know that?"
"I've only met one person who can understand and keep up with what I do."
"Ah." There's a pause, as if Jonathan is in agreement, but then he speaks again. "Only one person understands you. That must be... singularly frustrating, yet in its own way comforting, to be above the understanding of people who can't recognize how very skilled you are. I'd like to prove my intelligence, to you. If I may play that game, for a moment."
"It's much better than the alternative. I would much rather be difficult to understand than simple and predictable, it's true." Eddie smiles. "Please, go ahead."
"I don't know your IQ. I don't feel the need to tell you mine. I consider it an incomplete measure of an individual's capabilities. I also acknowledge that in order to make any scientific effort to rank the intelligence of the population, one must adhere to that which can be objectively measured. I've studied psychiatry and psychology, science and poetry. I would only be able to keep up with your riddles and your puzzles as far as they intersected with my particular studied skill set. My interests are... heh... quite different from your own.
"If I worked at it, if I had the inclination, I might steer myself toward a course of study in mathematics and cryptography... brush up on my word play... just the same as you might, were you tasked with facing the challenges I present, make a study of chemistry, psychopharmicology. We are both capable individuals. You... you don't want that. You want the way in which you have applied your intelligence to be the height of intellectual application. The right answer. You need that to be recognized and thus reflected in other intelligent people.
I would imagine, Edward, that you've met several people as intelligent as you, and perhaps more so... bear with me, and please don't interrupt me..."
"Let me..."
"Don't interrupt. It's terribly rude." The icy whisper is met with silence. Again, good. Not much further, now. "They don't need to be intelligent the same way that you do. They don't need for that to be recognized, and thus they don't feel the same need to prove it. I would like to share a secret with you, one that many capable individuals you've met have kept from you. I hate to ruin the answer, before you've had enough time to realize it on your own..."
That is enough to make Eddie defensive. Jonathan anticipated that. He falls silent to "let" Eddie interrupt, and Eddie does. His voice is annoyed, but only annoyed, and still kept to a whisper.
"It's perfectly reasonable to want your talents to be recognized, and, really, you have very little idea what I'm capable of. You've never seen my work up close. You've never had an actual demonstration. Oh, man... I'd show you, you know, but we're in here." His tone changes at the last part. Hopeful, now, and friendly. It's an invitation to get back to the pleasant conversation. Jonathan doesn't take it.
"In a lot of ways, people are a mystery to you... you don't understand how they could be so stupid, so much more appreciative of a pretty face and a strong body than a keen mind. You don't understand how they can be content with what you consider meaningless interactions. You ape social pleasantaries very well. It's obvious that you enjoy it. It's also obvious that you could count the meaningful relationships you've had on one hand, and of those, the ones that have lasted...?
"Your parents weren't very smart people. They didn't know how to deal with you, possibly with children, at all. They were inconsistent with their discipline. They didn't get your interests. They ignored you and what you were passionate about, and punished you when they didn't understand your successes. They punished you for lying because they didn't see how smart you were, and that... made you need to prove that to them. By any means, except lying. Cheating, though... I know you'll cheat. We all know you cheat, and without that, you wouldn't be nearly as impressive, at all."
This is not where the conversation was supposed to go. It's obviously becoming an attack, and Eddie knows he was right to feel defensive. "You're not proving anything right now, doctor," he says. "Except that you need to screw with people. You're way off topic, anyway, and I'm going to go back to sleep." There. Deliver that with authority, ignore him, and go to sleep. Easy, right? Except Jonathan keeps talking, just loud enough for Eddie to hear.
"You're in love with this image of yourself as brilliant and mysterious. You want to create the same complexities for yourself that you see in other people, and to combine it with what you know is your greatest strength. But here's that secret. You're not difficult to understand, at all. You are clever, but not nearly as clever as you think that you are, and most of the people you interact with know this. It's not difficult to see through this mask you've created to see this shallow mass of obsessions and insecurities. Your 'one person', and I could guess at who... understands this, much more than he's able to keep up with the puzzles you attempt to use to create real complexity. He understands you well enough to manipulate you into turning yourself in. Keeping you here is only a small part of his goal, and the majority of that goal has nothing at all to do with you.
In order to leave this place, you need to demonstrate that you can let go of your obsessions, even the ones which are the most important to you, your biggest, best plans. You need to spell it all out to them, and let it go. You are not Batman's opponent. He's done with you. You need to demonstrate understanding of your shallow affect and control of your addiction to reinforcement of your false self-image. You need to show that you understand that you are petty, needy and annoying to other people, and that intelligence alone impresses only fools. You need to understand that people only value intelligence for what benefit it can provide them or the causes which they hold dear.
You are not leaving Arkham until you are able to lie. Think about this, and you'll know it's true. You will both have to learn to lie and to prove that you know when it is unacceptable. The answer is not 'never'. Think about that."
"... how can you say all that? We've barely even talked! You don't know me!"
"I don't need to. You're surprisingly easy to puzzle out."
"If you needed all this time to come up with that much, you're obviously..."
"Edward, you're annoying me. Shut up. Let me sleep."
Eddie continues to protest, but Jonathan is either actually going back to sleep, or playing the part. He knows the nature of Eddie's illness will allow him to go to great lengths to rationalize away what he's heard, but he also knows, in here, Eddie's means of building himself back up are limited. Knowing what he's afraid of will allow Crane to limit that further, but for now, he's quiet, to give that time to sink in.