His mind kept replaying it. Not just the last time Oswald faced him down, the way the man had ultimately won against him. So much more kept being shown to him. Oswald sinking down into the water of the pier after he'd shot him. Oswald singing and dancing in his hallucination. Lucius Fox giving him answers he didn't want to hear. Isabella with her dyed her, wearing Kristen's glasses. Kristen, telling him he belonged in Arkham. Oswald. Oswald, again and again, and his own stupid voice saying that he'd do anything for him.

What he felt, ultimately, he couldn't say. Irritation at Jervis Tetch, that much was easy enough to process. "Can you shut up, man?" Probably not. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. Back to Arkham. Granted, safer than whatever Oswald might have planned for him before the GCPD intervened, but still not what he wanted. A place of horrors then and he doubted it had improved.

Looking at Jervis, he sighed. "I don't suppose you want to help us both out, do you?" Because it was certainly within his power. "Sorry about the bomb. Nothing personal, I assure you."