Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jonathan’s P.O.V.

Thin, long fingers gently push open the pill box organizer top with a simple click. Tiny capsules rested inside, they rolled around in the tiny space when my hand dove in to grab them, like a hawk swooping down to grab baby sparrows resting in a nest. The glass was cold against my fingers when they latched onto the cup, tainting its clearness with fingertip smudges. I tried not to taste the pills as I shoved them into my open mouth, swallowing them down with a sip of water. My hand twitches and the water inside the glass sways; Gotham’s tap is anything but pure but it suffices. Exhaling through my nose I carefully place the glass back down on my wooden desk. The wood is stained by many coffee mugs sitting there once before, and paper plates bits that got stuck to the desk when you ripped the plate off. My desk was messy, notebooks scattered about, a marker which has since lost its cap, a single pen because the others have yet to be located, and two pencils with their erasers used up. I eyed the bright yellow sticky notes that hung on the wall above the desk, written in sloppy handwriting that took even myself a second glance to understand what was said. I’ve tried to use schedules or possibly a planner, but I’ve always forgotten to write things down there and fall back into the habit of writing notes everywhere. I wasn’t surprised to see I had an appointment scheduled tomorrow evening, a teen who had just been discharged from inpatient care. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it though, I never was.

Dress shoes tapped against the old creaky floor when I walked. My apartment was small, closed in, and at the moment very dark. Not a single lightbulb was powered on, I usually let the natural sunlight light up the place and had forgotten to turn the lights on when the sun set. I didn’t mind the dark, not like I used to. Besides the moon let in just enough light through the large window, filling the room like a jug. Its pearly white light kissed my pale skin. Skin that was a rich tan in my youth but over the years of being shut in inside it has since lost its glow. I glanced through my glasses’ lenses to see the large white orb, its contrast against the vast and dark sky. There was a blurry ring around the moon, Grandmother has always said that it meant rain was to come. There was too much light pollution in Gotham to see any stars, but down in Georgia I got the image of their glimmering presence engraved into my mind, although it got foggier each day. I went closer to glance down at the city streets, it was a dangerous time to be out as the criminals wore the shadowy streets like a cloak. As a Physiatrist it never not intrigued me about these people’s behaviors, oh how I’d love to pick apart their brains until I discovered the deep layer which is their motive. I’d love to take their eyes to be able to see how they see things, turn their corneas into a camera lens to shoot compelling films. But Gotham’s unspoken rule is to stay silent and mind your own business, and I am not a nosy person.

With a sharp tug I pull the curtains closed and the light is extinguished, metal rings scraping against a metal pole. Sleep does not come easy to me, I need it completely silent and dark, rid of any distractions. Even the faint buzz of my blood pushing out of my ear drum can disrupt the cycle. I close my eyes and that buzz becomes whispers, whispers from those I do not wish to ever hear from. Melatonin barely helps, one day I got so fed up I took the whole bottle, it had knocked me out but the vile nightmares that followed were not worth it. I kicked off my shoes and flopped onto my cot, it squeaked and rocked up and down on impact. I laid completely still, only hearing my ragged breathing, I could feel my collared shirt dig into my neck and was hyper aware of the uncomfortable khaki pants surrounding my legs. I couldn’t be bothered to take off my work clothes when I came home, even my glasses pressed against my face, leaving a mark in my skin. I felt the cotton blanket under my palm, very dark brown bangs obscuring my limited view. My hair was messy, sprawled out on my head. Probably even greasy, tonight was the night I was supposed to take a shower after all. I just wanted to lay on the cot forever, melt into the mattress like putty. I let my knuckles brush over my sheets, flattening out the wrinkles. It gave me momentary satisfaction to watch the curves wipe away. My eyelids fluttered half-shut and I stared at my now visible eyelashes, a sigh just aching to escape my dry lips.

Then my body flinched heavily as a loud knocking came from the front door. I suppressed a groan and furrowed my brows. I wasn’t motivated to move yet so I decided to wait until whoever it was to give up and leave. They didn’t though and the loud knocking continued. Finally giving in I heaved myself upwards and dug the heel of my palms into my eyes, pushing my slim glasses over my nose. I glared at the front door as if I was glaring at the person on the other side of it. Begrudgingly I began to walk to the door, the person unaware that I was coming still pounded at the door. I narrowed my eyes and grabbed onto the cold, silver doorknob. With a sharp tug I opened the door and glared viciously at the person in front of me. The bright light from the hallway of my apartment complex burned my eyes and made me blink slowly, its light just barely leaking into the dark apartment. A man, no older than 25, stood there. He had jet black hair and green-ish blue irises. His crazed eyes met mine and I felt a bad feeling in my gut. A feeling you’d only get after working years in psychology.

“Can I help you?” I practically hissed at the man, he looked up at me with a foggy gaze. It was unsettling, I wasn’t one to feel threatened or afraid but I definitely felt that something was off. Maybe it was the way the room became very cold, numbness nipping at the tips of my fingers.

“Doctor Crane. You don’t remember me?” The man asked in astonishment. I didn’t remember a lot of people, I saw many faces everyday so it was hard to remember them all. But he did look slightly familiar. Perhaps a past patient.

“Does Thomas ring a bell?” His expression continued to be unreadable, a frightening thing when you’re someone of my profession. I try to stay neutral as well, giving off no hints of my confusion. I wasn’t scared, no, I just didn’t like feeling like I didn’t have the whole story. My breathing was shallow and I began to chew on the inside of my cheek, until it was raw and ached out in pain. The metallic taste of blood broke me from my silence.

“Ah. Mr. Elliot. To what do I owe the pleasure?” My gaze is powerful, pinning him with daggers. But yet he seemed unaffected, I could practically smell his impulsiveness right now. Thomas had stopped being my patient a while ago, there was no reason for him to be at my door. The boy had been quite interesting, growing up in wealth had started his never ending hunger that was greed. Greed that sprouted many other ideas, I had found it fascinating. It was a dream to study him compared to his childhood friend, Bruce Wayne, to see what had been so different for two kids to turn out completely different despite coming from similar backgrounds. It was an interest of mine to study why we become who we are, how we become who we are, just what kind of trauma can truly change a person. Thomas had just fit the role to be an experiment all too well. I wasn’t sorry.

“Ah, you do remember. Good, good.” Thomas seemed to mumble to himself and nod, a smile tugging at his lips. He was restless, this was evident by him slightly bouncing in place. Too much energy racing around behind his skin, causing a terrible itch. An itch to scratch at his skin, tear it off, just to get rid of the overwhelming feeling, just to feel some relief. He looked giddy, which was weird to see since the Thomas I knew was an angry, frightened boy. I’m well aware of Thomas’ Bipolar Disorder and sociopathy, seeing as I was the doctor to observe it. I concluded that this was just simply a result of a maniac episode, the psychologist in me needed to identify and title this behavior, perhaps to get a better understanding. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t curious, mania is always a curious thing. I yearned to figure out more.

“Then I’m sure you’re aware of why I’m here.” He had no trouble keeping direct eye contact, this overpowering self confidence coming out of nowhere. I hated eye contact, unless of course I was using it to intimidate someone, but being on the other end made my skin crawl. I wanted to ask if he was taking his medication but held my tongue, I wasn’t in the position to ask that anymore. I showed no signs that I was intimidated but Thomas did not relent.

“Actually, I am not.” I replied coldly, even managing to pull off a glare, though it was more like a dull blade. Thomas actually looked surprised by this news, I began to ponder on whatever delusion he fed himself. I went to exploit it but Thomas recovered too quickly, chuckling darkly.

“Then you have a rude awakening.” A sly smirk was presented to me and I felt myself grow irritated. He was prancing around the topic, it sure didn’t do well for my patience.

“What do you want Elliot?” I gave him a blank stare, voice monotone. Would it kill him to get to the point, maybe there wasn’t even one. But nobody goes out of their way to bother a lonely man living in a run down apartment. Speaking of, how did he get my address? Now that is a question I should be asking. I thought he was about to give me a villain rant, perhaps an interesting monologue, but he just tightened his jaw with a scowl.

“Dr. Crane, have you signed a safety contract?“ He choked out, voice becoming unreadable once again. I stare at him, study his body language and expression. He was setting something up and I wasn’t sure if I should humor him, but my analysis came at a loss so I had no other choice.

“No.” I raised a brow but other than that stayed completely still, my muscles painfully tense. He randomly smiled to himself, like he just told himself a funny joke in his head. It was unnerving. Thomas was not someone to take lightly, his homicidal ideations got quite vicious at times. Back then he was a 78 pound boy (35 kg), now he’s a 180 pound man (82 kg). He wasn’t much of a threat back then, not like he is now.

“Such a pity. You should know that sometimes the experiments get out of control.” His breathing got more heavy and erratic as he spoke, eyes glazed over with a lack of self awareness. His hand darted towards his hip, but even my nimble reflexes couldn’t react quick enough. You should never play with fire because then, my friend, you’ll get burned.

The pain rippled from my side and throughout my body, so much less peaceful than the ripples on a pond from a skipping stone. My ears were ringing, the loud bang shook my frail frame. I gasped for air, my lungs burned. The pressure sent me stumbling backwards, falling onto my tailbone. My brain was racing, trying to figure everything out before it, well, lost its ability to ever work again. The metal on the muzzle of the gun shimmered, I stared into the hole of the gun and its darkness sucked me in, like a drain sucking down the soapy water in a tub. I was very aware of my rapid heartbeat, feeling my pulse in my veins. The corners of the room were getting fuzzy and dark, a weird wetness seeping into my hands as I shakily brought them up to cradle my wound.

“Experiment failed, Dr. Crane.” A voice warbled but my body felt too heavy to try to find the source. A shadowy figure got larger as it approached me. I lived in an apartment, and a neighbor would definitely get some help. I will be fine, I will be saved. I was vividly aware of my body hyperventilating, which was making the blood pump out faster. There was distorted hushing, so velvety soft, like a mother shushing her newborn to sleep. Except I didn’t see my mother, or anyone at all. No, all I could see was darkness. And all I could feel was the coldness of the room seep into my soul.

Chapter Text

Red, the cloth was so very red. I fisted my hands in it and tugged it so it covered more of my thin torso, the plaid cardigan was the only thing I had to protect myself from the chilly autumn weather. The patterns were red, white and black but only the scarlet red caught your eye as I passed. I wasn’t one to wear bright colors, in fact I much preferred highly saturated hues.

Living in Gotham I learned that the folks here weren’t fond of autumn, not like we were. People shuffled across the street, hunched over and hands shoved down their large coat pockets, they grumbled about the cold temperature. Autumn was the time of harvest in Georgia, my small home town used to throw a single festival when the farms opened up their gate doors. I'd spot many of my classmates tending to fields and harvesting the crops, field work was often the top priority, even over class. It was well known within the town that I preferred studies over manual labor, even though my Grandmother was not fond of it. I had managed to get myself a job as a gravedigger, the ache in my muscles after each day was almost unbearable. But yet the job became a bore once I became numb to the pain, besides it wasn’t giving me the best reputation within the small community. Everyone knew everybody in that town, word spread around far too quick, like a match caressing a puddle of gasoline. The festival always lasted a few days, the large corn maze as its main attraction. It was dark out one night, the man in the moon watched me wander in the maze by myself. It had been quite uneventful, the tall corn stalk kept me enclosed in. Deciding that I no longer felt the need to follow the maze rules I stepped into the corn stalks, hands desperately parting them as I walked. I had accidentally stumbled across another path and saw two highschool sweethearts practically trying to morph into one another, via mouth. The irony of hiding within the corn stalks to stalk a young couple was not over my head and thankfully the girl had turned her head for a moment and spotted my lengthy figure buried within the corn. Her high pitched scream was utterly delightful and when her boyfriend turned to what startled her he too widened his eyes in fear, face paling immensely. They fled and I was unable to stop the growing grin on my face, it had caused so much satisfaction that I kept doing it, to everyone I saw. They all got so scared, whimpered in fear and let out loud yelps. In those few festival days it became a passion to scare the residents of that town, watch as their faces morphed in horror. It wasn’t long until everyone was talking about it, rumors spread that there was some killer scarecrow out in the corn stalks. Of course the story changed over the course of the week, what could have possibly been this scarecrow’s motive to feast on some southern folks down in Georgia, but one thing was the same and that was everyone was terrified of this beast. And to my delightment the scarecrow’s story continued to live on, long after the festival itself had ended.

Walking along the sidewalk I observed a flock of pigeons pecking at gravel roads, they gently cooed to one another. They’re nothing like the vicious crows back home, compared to the crows these pigeons look practically brain dead. Nothing but a clump of feathers and bones. Surprisingly the Gotham streets were pretty sparse, not many people up and about at this time. I had to get to work as unfortunately bills do not pay themselves and my rent was due soon. I loathed working but I did enjoy my occupation, it took a long time to get to it after all. Many sleepless nights and hours spent in the city’s library, but I had the job and I’d much rather take this over some other profession. My work building was small compared to many other buildings in the city, barely recognizable. But I’ve been there so many times that it stuck out like a sore thumb, its wide brick walls and thin windows that barely held any heat in the building. We weren’t allowed to have a radiator in the office for obvious reasons, so sometimes it got very cold. It was packed in with other medical offices, a physical therapy to the right and a lab corp to the left. My office worked very closely with the lab corp. I often sent in requests for blood draws and an analysis of different levels; I was currently waiting on a lithium level check to come back so I could make an increase in the dosage for a patient. But even sometimes late at night when I had stayed late for overtime, everyone else had left, I went and observed the labs. It is a fascinating sight. My adoration for chemistry always seems to strengthen as the days pass. I’d experiment, nothing too big of course, but who couldn’t help but fall to the siren call of the many chemicals. Who was I to refuse something being handed to me on a silver platter.

The failed attempt at scenery in front of the building was always amusing, some stones and wilted flowers where weeds grew in their place was a pitiful sight to see. I slipped my hand out of the cardigan’s pocket, knuckles flushed a rosy red from the cold. Numb fingers held onto a plastic ID card, which I pressed against a black box on the side of the door. After a moment the electronic device let out a loud beep and a green light flashed at the top, gears shifting and the door opened automatically. I sighed and a ghostly cloud of steam escaped my lips, fogging up the bottom of my glasses’s lenses before both the cloud and fog disappeared as quickly as they came. My cheeks and tip of my nose were also flushed from the chilly air and I could feel them sting as I walked past a heater spewing out warm air from the ceiling. Too bad they could only be bothered to keep the main room warm. My footsteps were silent against the carpeted floor, the hallway was narrow and empty. The walls were covered in a boring wallpaper, paintings of reprinted famous artworks hung on the walls. Down in the section for younger kids the walls were decorated with children’s artwork, the same few coloring sheets over and over but each had their own vibrant colored scribbles. Children are terrible artists if you ask me.

The ladies at the reception didn’t even spare me a glance as I walked by, I would have found the gesture rude if not I didn’t actually want to talk to anyone. They never said anything anyway, they greeted me once and I sharply glared back, they’ve never bothered me since. I just wanted to go to my familiar and comfortable office where I could settle in and work for the rest of the day. Some of my coworkers kept a white noise machine outside of their offices, it was there to keep privacy during an appointment, I could hear the machines already on for the day and they filled the silent halls with noiseless static. No longer trying to pay attention to outside noise I now noticed that my mouth was very dry, it felt like I had filled it with cotton balls. I gave my lips momentary relief as my tongue peeked out to lick them, only for them to sting seconds later.

This building worked with Arkham Asylum, or Arkham Psychiatric Hospital as they now insist. If you ask me it doesn’t have the same ring to it. Arkham not only funded the office but many patients there were discharged to us. I, myself, have never been to the asylum but I knew many colleagues that had worked over there. The stories I hear are always fascinating, the patients in more restricted units are never regarded as humans by the staff there. They’re described more as ragged beasts, any humanity wiped away. They describe their unkempt hair like wicked manes, something that only animals would have. They dehumanize them and then use it as an excuse to mistreat them. Corruption has been very present since I started working within the Arkham circle, but I got paid so there was no reason for me to complain. Not that I would anyway, I don’t need to have sympathy for anyone, you don’t get very far in life feeling sorry for people. If I went out of my way for the concern of another then it would only manage to bring me behind schedule. I would use a million dollars to create a film, but the box office would get back half of it; it would not be worth it, so therefore why should I help if I get no benefit? Common sense over morals I suppose.

Getting closer to an office on the right I start to hear chatter from inside. I haven’t heard anyone else in their offices yet, I wasn’t even sure if anyone else was even here yet. I unintentionally slowed down my steps and focused on the muffled voices, there seemed to be two different people inside. I could hear giggling and boyish laughter and my eyes darted to the plaque besides the closed door. Dr. Quinzel: is what it read, my eyes traced over the letters as if I was using them to write it out. Ms. Quinn was my colleague, a ditsy blonde to the world but a strong intelligent woman kept inside. I often regard her as naive, perhaps it is because of her age or lack of awareness at times. It is hard to tell whether she’s oblivious on purpose or it’s just a part of an act. She’s always an open book, you always know how she’s feeling, and the fact that she has no filter makes it very easy to learn about her. But it helps her out tremendously with her patients, her friendliness makes it easier to open up. I have been told many times that my coldness is what keeps my patient’s mouths shut.

I felt stupid now, she probably in an early morning session with a patient. It’s illegal for me to stand here and eavesdrop, privacy precautions between her and her patient. Although I knew this I still couldn’t get myself to move, there was no push in my muscles to get me to move forward. I have no business to care about Ms. Quinn but I couldn’t help but feel like something was off, the way it came up and grasped its wicked hands around my neck, squeezing tightly. So I became unnerved and quite frankly, suspicious. I swallowed the excess saliva in my mouth thickly, eyes narrowing in suspicion. The fluorescent light above me caused a slight glare on my glasses’ lenses.

“Awh, please Ed! I know you can pull a few strings!” A honey sweet voice pleaded, a heavy Brooklyn accent coated each word like thick icing. Even being muffled through the door I recognized the owner of the voice to be Ms. Quinn, she seemed to be asking for something but her tone came off as extremely playful, so whether she really wanted it or not was up for debate. There was an annoyed groan, it really felt more dramatized than it needed to be. My brain began to soak up each second of new knowledge, my thoughts were racing. Brains always want to create conclusions for things, make connections in order to make sense of something. It’s how miscommunication starts; even so I was still trying to figure out the situation going on in that room.

“You’re crazy that you want to go back there. Pam’s gonna kill me if I let you.” The other person spoke, they seemed to be listing off their ideas out loud. I could hear the floor creak as someone moved, I concluded that they were pacing back and forth. My heart was pounding in my chest, it was a weird feeling knowing that you’re doing something you shouldn’t, or know something that you should not. It made me feel powerful, to have extra leverage in knowledge that some people didn’t know.

“No she won’t! She won’t even care!” Ms. Quinn snapped back, a slight pout in her tone. The other person, who I presumed was a man, stuttered for a moment before giving out an exaggerated scoff. The interaction was weird, it felt like I was spying on two kids arguing at the playground rather than two adults having a private conversation in an office. They made the situation feel a whole lot less serious and more of a petty bicker. I snarled my lip in disgust, the childish behavior made this more annoying to listen to than interesting. I’m not sure why i'm even wasting my time.

“Have you met Pamela? She’ll feed me to one of her freaky plants! And I’ll have you know I do not plan on being killed by a weed!” The man argued back, he almost sounded like he was in disbelief, dumbfounded even. I raised a brow at the mention of these plants, I had no idea what the man was referring to but it was certainly something new. My body flinched when I thought I heard footsteps behind me, I jerked around to see if anyone was there. Thankfully there had been no one there, I gritted my teeth and scowled at my paranoia.

“C’mon Ed. Just one day, I’ll see mistah’ J then I’ll never ask you again!” Ms. Quinn pleaded with the man once more, her voice softer and equipped with a whine. I heard someone click their tongue, I assumed it was the man. I began to keep notes in my head of what I was learning, the names of these mysterious people and perhaps their relations to one another. I imagined it as sorting the knowledge out into groups, a long red string attaching it all together. My tongue peaked out to swipe away the sweat gathered on my upper lip. It was silent and I figured the man was considering his options, the silence made me fully aware of my shallow breathing, chest rising up and down.

“Fine.” The man finally growled out, there seemed to be an attempt of self restraint in his voice which was oddly curious, “But you know how I make deals, Harley.” the man bit back, he finally grasped the reins of the conversation, tugging them harshly. Ms. Quinn might have been able to sway him but he was still the one in power here, or so I figured. She made a delighted, giddy sound before quickly collecting herself. She cleared her throat before humming slightly.

“I know how much you like information Eddie, so while I’m working there I’ll make sure to pick up on a few things. You can steal things from there whenever you want but you can’t always overhear things from the patients.” Ms. Quinn giggled lightly in a sing-song rhythm, her offer sounding like a tempting commercial, the ones that play on the TV’s with colorful lights and loud noises, ones that are way too good to be true. But those commercials always bring in a few callers, or else they wouldn’t be played.

“And why should I concern myself with their limited knowledge.” The man huffed, it contained a whiny tone like a child who was acting spoiled. My eyes stared at the carpeted floor, needing a place to rest. It was curious that Ms. Quinn referred to the people as patients, a term usually only used in the medical field. Perhaps she was asking to work at a medical facility, I had a good guess on which one. This “mistah’ J” was also an intriguing character to this story, why is Ms. Quinn so desperate to see him? A million questions and theories ran through my head, like a child violently shaking the small baggie containing the carnival goldfish they had just won.

“Are you telling me you’re refusing the chance to gain more knowledge?” Ms. Quinn dramatically gasped, she threw out her line, fresh bait attached, “Who are you and what have you done with Eddie?” Keeping the faux tone she giggled lightly, I heard a small grunt. He had taken the bait.

“Alright, fine! But I’m not responsible if something happens!” The man gave out an irritated huff, it was easy to note that he got worked up pretty easily. Not a good thing for someone who makes deals, it was amazing that he was able to make any agreement with how little patience he seemed to contain. I held my breath without realizing.

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya’!” Ms. Quinn gleefully expressed, amusement was very evident in her words. The man scoffed, muttering something along the lines of “yeah, yeah”. His footsteps were getting louder and I realized that he was getting closer to the door. Light on my feet, I jumped out of the way and pressed my back against the wall, spine digging into the drywall. I bit my bottom lip in an effort to quiet down my breathing.

“Oh, and Ed!” Ms. Quinn called out once more, the footsteps near the door paused. “Selina asked ‘bout cha’, she says she hasn’t seen you in a while. Pretty sure ya’ owe her money.” The tone was smug and I could have written it off as a taunt, but there seemed to be something much deeper behind the words.

“Tell her to piss off, she has her own business to worry about. Curiosity killed the cat after all.” He growled, almost defensively. The empty threat hidden behind the words made the room grow tense. If he were a normal human being he might have told her “I’m fine” or not to worry, but that was too simple, and simplicity was not this man’s forte. The door flung open, the old hinges creaking as the heavy door closed itself slowly. For the first time I finally saw the man, he stood in front of the door and muttered to himself as he fixed his coat cuffs. The man was shorter than me but not short compared to the standard heights. I was only able to loom over him because of my unnatural height; grandmother always said that the devil pulled on my limbs until I grew to the size of a wicked beast. The man had auburn hair, though without the glow of sunlight it looked more brown. It was evident that it had been previously gelled back, but stubborn strands now stuck up. The locks curled at the ends, giving an illusion of curly hair, strands curled underneath his ears and around his neck. The hair on top was once tamed but now fluffed up, it was also clear the man was not happy about the state his hair was in. Piercing emerald eyes were slightly covered by furrowed brows, his irritation leaking through as he fiddled once more with the cuffs. I studied the freckles dusted on his naturally flushed cheeks, pouty pelony-pink lips in a tight scowl. The man had a youthful face, he looked so naive, that he has yet to experience the maturity needed to be an adult in this world. Of course looks can be deceiving, perhaps this oblivious and innocent look was an act to get people to lower their guards, you get to a certain point where it’s impossible to still be so unaware.

The man was dressed in a doctor’s uniform, white coat and all. A dark green tie hung from his neck, I found color complemented his eyes quite well. I didn’t recognize him if he worked here, I wasn’t one to keep tabs on my coworkers but I know for sure I never saw him before. I also hadn’t heard anything about a new hire, but then again nobody was obligated to tell me this news anyway. I couldn’t pull my gaze away from the mysterious man, my eyes searching him for clues. His ID was conveniently tucked away. The man suddenly sighed and stopped messing with his clothes, my body slightly twitched as I tried to repress my body flinching from the loud sigh that cut through the silence. I no longer got startled by things like that; it was now just a bad habit.

The man then turned his head and his eyes met mine, my body was stiff. He gave me a look, one full of annoyance and disgust. Was I perhaps burdening this man by simply gazing at him? He seemed to think so. Though he looked tired, he slouched slightly as he stood and there were dark bags under his eyes that could rival that of a raccoon’s. All malice in his glare was gone by his pathetic aura. It was amusing actually, reminding me of a small chihuahua trying to intimidate the larger dog. I didn’t even have to overpower him, he overpowered himself. My face stayed neutral, just simply looking at him. His eyes glistened with intelligence, a crisp look such as taking a bite of the sweet but slightly sour Granny Smith apple. His irises were green like vast meadows, I felt that the more I ran the more lost I got in them.

The man huffed and sharply spun on his heel, stomping off. And weirdly enough I began to follow, I wasn’t one to get into someone else’s business, in fact my actions shocked myself. I shouldn’t care about this man or whatever was happening, should follow Gotham’s unspoken rule and mind my own business. I tried to convince myself that this wasn’t weird, but even my brain knew I was lying. I have no time to bother with other people but here I am finding myself growing curious over this strange man. I know the man was aware that I was trailing behind him, if he decided to question it I’d just lie saying I was going to the front desk for something, but he didn’t. So I continued to follow, almost like in a trance. This was ridiculous, I was redoing all the steps I just took now going back outside. I scowled at the man as if it was his fault for making me curious. Once I realized we were out in the city again I knew I had lost my mind, perhaps logic was finally coming back to me.

“You better have a good reason for stalking me.” The man finally spoke with a unamused tone. I blinked and quickly took in my surroundings, we were on the sidewalk near the street. His voice was melodic, like the noise of Apollo strumming his lyre. Only cars drove by, throttles loudly popping, it seemed for the moment we were the only people on the street. He brought us somewhere private, a stupid move if he thought I was a kidnapper or robber. But an intelligent move if I was a businessman. I must have followed him like I was on autopilot, I tended to switch to that a lot. The traffic light turned red off in the distance, the part of me who loved literature might have called it symbolism. The man noticed that I stayed silent, he seemed off put by it.

“Look if you got a bone to pick or I somehow wronged you, get over yourself.” The man was cocky, he rolled his eyes and scoffed. Even brought his hands up to rest on the sides of his hips. Like a pigeon he puffed out his chest, unfortunately intimidation was not a skill that worked on me. I glared at him and he happily returned it.

“Quit following me, go bother someone else moron.” The man growled out but I could easily see past it, he was scared. I saw it in his eyes, the way his fingers twitched, limbs trembling, lip quivering. Oh so delicious fear. He had on a good mask, but those were so easy to see past nowadays. The man clung onto this false confidence for dear life, it’d be fun to pry off his fingers and watch him fall but I decided watching him dangle off the cliff was better.

“Why do you have access to Arkham?” Was what I decided to ask, I'd be lying if I said I wasn’t questioning it. How was he able to get Ms. Quinn into the Arkham work schedule so easily? She seemed fully confident that he could do it, he possibly did it before too. The man blinked at the suddenness of my question, I never was very good at social interaction.

“I have access to a lot of things.” He proudly sneered and I narrowed my eyes, a hand coming up to readjust my slipping glasses. Of course a very vague answer, what an enigmatic man. But I decided to play along with his game, if only to pry more information out.

“How so?” I questioned, tone flat as ever. The man’s gaze never left mine, his eyes were strong as it made me want to avert eye contact, but I couldn’t because I had to uphold this leverage I currently had. I had to get him to back down first, it wasn’t a childish staring contest per se, but a test of how long he could stand his ground. But the way his lips twitched up I knew he took it as a game, he was very stubborn. He was growing more confident by the second, hearing his own voice added to that.

“I’ve got connections, all throughout Gotham and beyond.” The man smirked smugly, then his eyes looked me up and down, evaluating. The gesture made me more uncomfortable than it should have, I tried my best not to show it though. One of my best talents is indeed the poker face.

“Why? Are you looking to make a deal? I can tell you right now that Arkham is a horrible place to try to bargain into.” The man clicked his tongue, leaning to the side and bringing a hand up to rest his pointer finger on his bottom lip. His eyes flicked between me and the city around us. There was a taunting smile resting on his face, I had half a mind to question it.

“What could you offer me?” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, staying level-headed. I had to make the most calculated response, one only influenced by logic. The man raised his eyebrows in amusement. He seemed to begin brainstorming, I could almost see the gears turning behind his eyes.

“What is it that you desire, Doctor?” The man smirked mischievously, I frowned at the title. If not he saw me in the office and my work attire I would question how he knew my work. I could tell he asked this often, it rolled off his tongue too easily. He probably expected the normal responses: wealth, money, fame. But I didn’t have a desire for those things, I was curious to how he’d react outside of the normal act.

“Fear.” I shrugged, fear was power and control. Fear was beautiful, some may use this word for Greek sculptures or fields of roses but I digress. Fear is such a powerful primitive human emotion, often including other emotions in it like anger or sadness. Fear might be this power but also the lack of power, keeping you alive in circumstances you cannot control. And that’s what makes it so interesting, why do simple thoughts influence every kind of human behavior? Imagine the possibilities someone could have if they could control this overbearing emotion. Imagine what could happen if someone could have this much control, be more powerful than the human brain. It is all so infatuating. The man struggles to hide the weird look he gave me once I uttered that word.

“Fear…I think I can work with that.” The man straightened his posture and rested his hands on his hips once again, a smug smirk plastered onto his face. He sure was full of himself. I gritted my teeth from the narcissism practically slapping me in the face.

“Is that so?” My eyebrow twitched in annoyance, this conversation was becoming quite annoying. The man’s emerald irises glimmered in delight.

“And you must know that there are two sides to every deal, yes?” There it was again, the mischievous smirk. I wanted so badly to wipe it off his cocky face. I took a deep breath to let my anger simmer down, he was trying to work me up and it would be futile to let him.

“I am aware, yes. But you have yet to tell me what you’ll do for me?” I narrowed my eyes intimidatingly, lips stretching into a scowl. It helped that I practically towered over him, my shadow being casted onto his body. The man just smiled.

“That will be a secret, my friend. But do not worry, I will never not deliver. Your end will be simple, I need someone to deliver a package to a friend. That’s all.” The man moved his hands with excitement as he talked, it was endearing in a really odd way. Conveniently the traffic light that was once red switched to green and the cars pumping out exhaust drove past.

“Who will I say it’s from?” I crossed my arms over my chest and let my muscles relax a bit. It was hard for me to put faith in this man by actually delivering me something, but it’d be bad business if he was scamming me. Besides, I was intrigued. The man seemed delighted by my cooperation.

“It seems I haven’t introduced myself, have I? Riddler, or just Edward Nygma, at your service.” He greeted me with a grin and I instantly recognized the man. He was a notorious criminal around Gotham, a smart man with weird complexes. He had never impacted me personally but I’ve seen a few of his crimes on the news before. I found his tactics…interesting to say the least. But it was very intriguing now, Ms. Quinn bargaining with a criminal? She even acted like she knew him well.

“Dr. Jonathan Crane.” I simply nod in acknowledgment and Edward whistles lowly. He drops one of his hands to his side and rests a single hand on his hip, leaning to that side. I just stand still, waiting for something to happen next.

“Well I actually have the stuff on me right now, here I’ll give it to you so you can deliver it.” Edward finally takes a step forward, getting rid of the distance between us. I continued to tower over him but still he was unaffected. He reached into his coat pocket and took out a couple tiny brown bags filled with crushed leaves. He held them by the white string that was attached to the bags. My eyes followed them as they swayed back and forth from the force.

“Is that..” I opened my mouth and was suddenly aware of my dry mouth again, closing my mouth I tried to swallow the little saliva there. He gave me a sheepish grin, the corner of his eyes wrinkling softly.

“Tea bags? Yes, it’s a gift.” He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head fondly. “Here I’ll give you the address, it’s 9310 B-“ he started up his blabber again but I was focused on grabbing the tiny tea bags he shoved into my hands. With furrowed brows I glared at him, quick to cut off his rambling.

“Woah, I’m not going to be able to remember that. Can you write it down somewhere?” I asked with a click of the tongue. I fumbled with putting the tea bags in my red cardigan’s pocket. Edward stared at my blankly, as if he was trying to decipher my request.

“Ah, yes. I forgot that not everyone can remember everything. Anyway, yeah I can, do you happen to have a piece of paper?” He turned his head to the side innocently, like a puppy listening to its owner. I wasn’t sure if it was really an insult so I let it go, besides, his face gave away that the words had no ill intention. I began to notice that even closer Edward kept some distance, he refused to touch me and instead shoved the item into my arms. He was very good at keeping up an act, I’ll give him that. I wondered why he was so frightened though, bad history with this type of dealing? Perhaps I intimidated him, I’ve been told that I have that effect. It was excitable though, his hesitance bringing me great joy.

I patted my pants pockets and pulled out my on-the-go notebook, for whenever I feel like taking notes on things. I ripped off the empty lined page in front, and extended the paper to Edward. He flinched slightly when my arm reached out and I bit back a wicked grin. He quickly recovered though and snatched the paper from my hand. Grabbing a ballpoint pen from his own coat pocket he rose up his leg to use his thigh as a writing surface. He was trying to keep balance while scribbling on the corner of the paper to bring the pen to life. He then quickly scribbled on the address, elegant cursive handwriting on the lines.

“Okay, there you go.” He handed the paper back to me quickly, like the paper I had given him burned him at the touch. His hands were clammy, this I knew when he wiped his hands off on his trousers. He was so nervous and it was killing me to figure out why. But I take a shallow breath to calm down and nod in gratitude. We both just stand there for a moment, gazing upon another. His eyes were so calculating, he watched me as if he also took in every little detail. I’m so much more subtle about it though, I look as if I always do when I evaluate strangers, I never stop evaluating people. Here was a highly intelligent man, a powerful and influential man at that. He strikes so much fear in Gotham and now I am simply looking at him. These barbarous villains of Gotham are nothing more than people, just like the killer scarecrow is nothing more than a hurt child. I turned to leave, breaking whatever staring contest we had started, but Edward jumped up quickly.

“Wait!” He shouted and I stopped to turn towards him, a single brow raised, just waiting. He seemed to be surprised by his own actions, blinking at me as if he was asking what had just happened. But like any great showman, he quickly recovered. If I didn’t pay so much attention it would have seemed like there was never any hesitation.

“Just as a heads up, the person you’re giving the gift to is a little much. He doesn’t particularly have it all right up here.” Edward smiled, tapping his temple. “He’s basically harmless though, don’t worry.” He gave that signature grin. I gave him a bored expression, what was I supposed to do with this warning? Thanks for making me go speak with some person who’s out of their mind, I very much appreciate it. So I just huffed and turned around again, turning my back on the dangerous villain and yet I felt no fear, no concern at all. I didn’t look back to see if he watched me leave, I didn’t even turn back to see the breath of relief he gave when I was out of eyesight.

Chapter Text

I was at work a mere thirty minutes or so ago, I should have just gone back to work after whatever it was that happened with Mr. Nygma. But I didn’t, still worked up with curiosity I wanted to go and get this over with before my energy totally crashed. Before this task became a burden, you could say. Plus if there’s issues regarding my work I have just gained some blackmail material. I took out my smartphone, something I found myself having so much trouble remembering to bring or to not leave places, and tried to call the front office to excuse myself but my phone was dead, another thing I struggled with remembering. Everyone around me, especially younger folks are so attached to their cellular devices, it never really clicked like that for me. So most days I walk around with a dead phone in my pocket, or it’s sitting on the table at home. In a crime ridden city such as Gotham, this is not a good habit. Not like the GCPD would actually come save you though, they’re far too busy with other tasks and their own corruption. In fact you’d be better off praying the lunatic vigilante would come save you, that is if he’s quick enough. You’re alone in Gotham, not even God can help you. Most learn that the hard way.

The shop that Edward’s very neatly written address led me to was honestly a dump, it looked run down and possibly abandoned. This isn’t a rarity in Gotham, many areas are trashed and deserted. It was all a part of the Gotham aesthetic. The street the shop was on was tucked away behind other, busier streets. It was empty, besides for random junk pieces or litter. It had this eerie and unsettling atmosphere to it that I very much enjoyed. The streets had large craters that filled up with rain water, now it’s the sea for cigarette bud-boats. There has got to be vermin hidden in every alley way. I glanced down at the storm drain only to see it clogged with plastic cups and junk, it was utterly useless. The specific shop Edward was talking about seemed to be an antique store, one that was actually open. It bewildered me on how this store stayed in business. I mean just the front entrance was surrounded with junk, the welcome mat was covered in filth and the welcome sign in the window was written on a piece of paper in sharpie then taped there. Around the store was thrown furniture that you’d usually see outside a thrift store, except these items were heavily damaged and some destroyed. They obstructed the view of the actual store; the wooden items began to rot. I began to question if Edward had set me up to be mugged or killed. I didn’t exactly bring a weapon, the stakes of the broken dressers could be used but I feared the wood would be too weak to hold well. I made sure to keep a good eye on my surroundings though.

Sighing heavily I pushed some random broken drawer out of the way and hesitated at the door, before exhaling and pulling open the old squeaky door. The door was a hideous bright red, the paint chipping off from age. It took some effort to actually pull it open and when I did I heard a little bell ring. My breath is heavy for a moment after pulling the door open but I go ahead and peek inside the store. There were so many shelves, shelves filled with useless items. One shelf filled with fine China pottery and the next filled with weird knick-knacks. Some were just filled with old books, I looked over at all the old but beautiful antique lamp bases, though they all lacked a lampshade. I walked over to one of the aisles and swiped my index finger on the shelf, a coating of dust coming off and onto my finger. I wiped my finger on my pants while grimacing. Everything was covered in a layer of dust, and I prayed I wouldn’t become allergic. The weird and honestly creepy porcelain figures stared at me from the shelves, this was definitely an antique store. Or used to be one, it was so dark inside here and the only light coming from the sunlight through the windows or the randomly lit candles spaced out. To ease my curiosity I pulled on the string to one of the taller lamps but even despite having a lightbulb it hadn’t turned on. There must be no electricity in here. I decided to stroll down the aisle of books, which had honestly intrigued me the most. I review all of the novels but I can’t read any of the titles on the spine. All of the books were the same shape, size, and color. I randomly reach out and carefully pull a random book out of its place. It scuffed up a dust cloud that I tried to wave away with my free hand, eyes squinting behind my glasses. The book crackled when I opened it, the spine practically hissing with age. Alice Adventures in Wonderland, is the title of the book. A book that practically any child could recognize, the novel written by Carroll was famous. But this particular copy hadn’t aged well, it might’ve well been from 1865 itself. I exhaled deeply through my nose as I opened a random page and trailed the words with my eye. What is concerning is that there seems to be random lines or pages scribbled out with a pen, while some lines were heavily circled.

Mad Hatter: Have I gone mad?

Alice: I’m afraid so. You’re entirely bonkers—

The rest of Alice’s line is scratched out too heavily to be read, but yet these two lines were circled with red pen, over and over until the pen dug into the paper and ripped it slightly. I could trace my fingertip on the line and feel the dip in the paper from the pressure of the tip of the pen. I turned to the last page of the book and saw a weird paper compartment in the back, I ripped it open and papers and photos came flying out and falling to the ground. The papers seemed to be notes, some legible and some too scribbled out. The old photograph which was in terrible condition showed a picture of a young man with stale blonde hair and uneven teeth, his nose being the most eye-catching feature. The man seemed to be smiling for a photo one would take for your driver’s license or school yearbook. I carefully flipped the photo to read a date: 10/6/1948.

“Eddie! Is that you? I’ve been expecting you!” A voice squeaked giddly through the shop, and I wasn’t expecting the sudden noise. I immediately get startled and drop to the ground to collect the papers, doing my best to stuff them back inside the book. I pushed the book back into its place on the shelf quickly. I hear feet shuffling through the walk ways of the aisles and I hold my breath. In an attempt to hide I close in on myself behind a shelf. When the person finally pops their head out they immediately are shocked, eyes widening and gasping. It was a short man, stubby too. He had blonde hair and bright aquamarine eyes. He had a very broad nose as well as longer front teeth that reminded me of a rabbit. He wore a top hat with a red ribbon, a piece of paper stuffed in between the ribbon and hat, it read: 10/6. He also wore a red suit with a giant black bow tie. It made me curious as to why he wore such a formal outfit in such a disgusting place. That is until it clicked that it was the same man in the photo except in a different outfit, the date of the photo being stuffed up in his hat. It was mindbogiling, was the man dressing up as that man in the photo in an attempt to imitate him? I wasn’t sure but it sure as hell wasn’t normal, I guess I should expect Edward to interact with these types of people.

“Hello, I’m sorry for the intrusion but I’m here to make a delivery.” I nod at the man politely in acknowledgment and pull out the two tea bags out of my pocket by the strings, “They’re from the Riddler.” I decided to add and handed the tea bags to the strange man. I do my best not to seem disturbed by the man, after all I exceed well in masking my emotions. His face lit up when he realized what he was given. A smile tugs at his lips and he stares at me before gasping dramatically.

“Oh, we must have a tea party!” He shouted happy and dreamily, he was very excited. He even jumped up a little but my face paled. I immediately frowned and shook my hands to imply I was not a fan of this idea. Tea party? This man couldn’t be putting on an act, could he? Could he perhaps be acting like the man in the photo and perhaps that man enjoyed Alice in Wonderland, that’s why his photo was in the book and it’s why he had just asked for a tea party. That had to make sense, it had to. There is no possible way the man in the photo in 1948 would still be alive or look the exact same after so many years, this man had to be acting. At times like these I believe myself to be going crazy, what I say to my patients is never ever applied to myself.

“Oh that’s okay, I really must be going.” I smiled awkwardly and pointed to the exit with my thumb. The man was already tugging at my arm though and it took all my willpower to not resist and hurt him. I do give him a nasty glare though.

“Nonsense! Come on, I already have everything set up!” The man kept tugging and I considered my options for a moment, would perhaps the Riddler owe me more for this? This is a deserted area though and no one is around to stop me from hurting this man, though I suppose Edward wouldn’t be happy about that. If I want my side of the deal I think I might have to play nice. I groaned and let the strange man pull me away towards the back area of the store, where there was indeed a tea set up. I just gave it a weird glance, it looked normal enough and actually clean, unlike the objects around it. White porcelain tea cups and a teapot all sitting on a black round table, though randomly there were also two red painted tea cups opposite from each other. There were four chairs set up as well, all on their own sides of the table. I wondered if he had set this up for Edward and himself or he just happened to always have a tea set up.

I saw the man store the tea bags away then sat down in a chair so I took the one opposite of it, keeping my hands folded nicely in my lap. We had both sat in chairs that had a red tea cup, the other white ones just sitting there now for show. There was already hot tea in the teapot and I could only stare at the set up in awe.

“I don’t believe I've introduced myself, my name is Jervis Tetch! What about yours?” The man asked, grabbing the fragile teapot and setting up two tea cups. I watched intently as he poured the two cups, he did it so easily as well. I could tell he was skilled in tea pouring, if that's considered a skill set. He then reached over the table to hand me my cup and I accepted it, placing it on the table in front of me. The cup was warm to the touch like a nice hand warmer, light steam coming out of the top. I bite back a frown though, small talk made me feel sick, especially with strange men who pretend like they’re a character from a famous novel. He was playing the role of Mad Hatter obviously, but who would that make me?

“Dr. Jonathan Crane.” I replied solemnly and the man blinked before smiling once again. For a moment I found myself envious of his never ending happiness and his ability to always smile. Perhaps it was just more endearing than anything.

“Wow, a doctor; in what?” He asked with enthused eyes, bringing his tea cup up to his mouth to blow on it softly. There are small ripples made in the tea from his breath. My hands itch to fidget so I settle on tapping my fingers on the frame of my chair.

“Doctor in psychiatry.” I replied, still continuing to only stare at the tea cup, watching the steam twist and fade into the air. Jervis seemed to notice my hesitation though.

“Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned or anything.” Jervis laughed loudly, “I actually was poisoned once, it’s a whole story. I accidentally poured a whole bottle of antifreeze into my tea pot in a frenzy once, it was quite crazy! I didn’t even realize until after I drank the whole thing too.” Jervis continued to laugh as if it was some silly or fun story but my heart dropped. My hands grip onto my chair tightly, knuckles whitening. And my face becomes paler, I feel sick knowing that I was about to take a sip of that drink. I swallow harshly, trying anything to avert my gaze on the tea cup.

He has to be lying, that’s medically impossible. You cannot drink an entire bottle of antifreeze and survive, there’s just no way. He doesn’t seem to be lying but nobody who's done that would laugh at the situation like that. Did he somehow make a drastic recovery? Even still there’d be major consequences. But the way he acts and the way he talks he definitely sounds like he’d do something as stupid as that. To think maybe he had tried to poison me as well. He seemed delusional before but I just had wishful thinking, something that never happens and will never happen again.

“Uh, I am starting to grow ill. There was this virus going around with my coworkers and I think I may have it, I don’t want to give it to you. Thank you for the tea party, it was lovely.” I speak in a more harsh tone than intended and shoot out of my chair, pushing my chair back far behind me, it makes an awful screech against the floor. Jervis gives me a bewildered look, I just ignore it. Before Jervis can make out any noise of protest I sped walk to the front door and practically threw the door open. Once outside and far away from the shop I take a breath of fresh air, it’s cold and I feel it go through my nostrils. Jervis must have been joking, there was no other explanation. Edward was right when he said he wasn’t all right in the head, if I had taken a sip of that drink who knows what would have happened. Oh when I find that cocky son of a bitch; this had to be a set up. Dragging me out to some shady place with some delusional weirdo who was more than ready to send me six feet under. I’ll kill him when I find him, I will. Where do I even find him? What, do I call out into the sky and he’ll magically appear, or maybe I’ll just imagine he’s here and he’ll suddenly pop into existence. A total set up. I was more angry at myself for falling for such a stupid scheme than the Riddler, though he was still very much at fault.

I angrily stuffed my hand into my pocket and pulled out the fancy address he wrote me, I bunched the paper up in my fist and crinkled it. I went to throw it on the street as it seemed everyone else in Gotham did the same with their trash. I mean corpses are left laying on the street, people really cannot dispose of their trash correctly. But I couldn’t find it in myself to let the crumpled paper go, it felt stuck to my palm like glue. In frustration I scowl and furrow my brows, bringing a hand up to massage my temples, I could feel a migraine coming on lurking in the distance of my mind. Though my frustration burned itself out and I sighed, dropping my shoulders and loosening my muscles. I stand there a while just considering my options, letting my brain set and roam freely. I was more than exhausted both mentally and physically, I can’t remember if I got good sleep last night but I very much doubt it seeing as I barely sleep at all. I slowly walked over to the curb and collapsed on myself to sit down there, I could feel my aching body silently thanking me.

Sitting on the curb of this shady street I stare down at the asphalt. I turn the crumpled up piece of paper around in my hand before finally settling on opening it back up again. Unfolding it like a piece of origami I see the familiar address again. I fiddle with the paper and turn it around only to be shocked because there was something written there. A phone number in tiny print, I don’t even remember him writing that. My heart thumps in my chest while staring at it, what do I do now? I have a way to contact him, most likely, I have to get him to meet up and then I’ll show him that I’m not to be messed with, that I don’t take being played very kindly. But I was still in a little shock because nobody has ever given me their number. I’m definitely not a person to go out to a bar and pick up numbers or people ask me for mine, I try my best to avoid everyone and probably would be repulsed if someone asked or gave me theirs. My hands trembled and the paper slightly twitched in my grasp, despite it not having any major importance I still found myself longing to not mess it up. He probably gave me his work phone or worse, a fake one.

I tried telling myself over and over that this wasn’t a phone number with that type of implication and that there are no expectations I need to succeed, but when does reasoning with your brain ever work? Social situations get me so worked up it’s just easier to avoid them, I’ve always been alone and I can provide for myself. Even at home in Georgia I was surrounded by people but utterly alone, like standing in a large crowd, you’re surrounded by millions of people but none of them are who you know, they are all strangers. It doesn’t matter how many people there are, you can still be alone. And when I wasn’t alone in Georgia, I longed to be. Being dependent on people opens that window for disappointment that you cannot control. I despise not being in control, at least of myself.

My grandma used to say that I am a devil or just inhuman. I reasoned that I didn’t click with anyone because I wasn’t like them. They were human and I was not. That no matter how hard I tried to fit in I wouldn’t be able to, I’m not like them. This is why I stayed away from groups and clicks, it’s why the kids who bullied me never really mattered, I was doomed to never fit in from the beginning. And as much as I hate to admit it, this made me feel special in a way, that I’m unique and no one else would be able to understand me. I think going into psychology at first was a lot of trying to learn about everyone else, how they worked and functioned because I couldn’t possibly understand. And then one day you realize you really aren’t special, there’s nothing special about you, about me. And childhood me didn’t deserve the abuse because I was no devil, I was a kid. Then you realize all the injustice that happened that you let happen because you thought you deserved it, that it was normal because you weren’t like them and never will be. You get so angry and you want others to feel that fear you always harbor. People have always been scared of me, the devil boy isn’t someone people wanted to go over and play at the playground with. But there’s something so satisfying, so beautiful of being the one to inflict that fear, to be in control of it. I didn’t choose for kids to be scared of me at school, but I will choose to make people quake beneath me now.

I refuse to let Edward be the one in control here, to let him win. He may trick the rest of the city and hell, even the Bat, but I will not let him play me. So I must think this over, I have to plan on what I’m going to do. It’s definitely not because I feel extremely uncomfortable with the idea of calling him, it’s that I must do this the logical way. I harshly pull my tired body upwards and begin to set my destination back to my home, I can try to figure things out from there. Maybe then I can sit down and try to calm myself, this shouldn’t have riled me up as much as it did and I shouldn’t feel as betrayed as I do. I knew not to trust him yet I did anyway, why do I constantly refuse to use my own advice. But no matter, it's too late to dwell on what I should have done, now it’s what I’m going to do.

Chapter Text

Edward’s P.O.V —

Sitting uncomfortably on top of an abandoned factory’s rooftop I dig the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to rub away the discomfort. I usually get painful headaches when I refuse to wear my glasses but that never stopped me, it feels like a weakness to need to be aided by a face accessory. And my occupation gives a lot of chances for them to break, something I’d much rather avoid. I’d use contacts but after waking up from being knocked out so many times with the sting of not removing my contacts, I’ve given up. And I reasoned I can just toughen out the pain, perhaps grow a tolerance to it. I feel utterly exhausted yet I’d never admit, not even to myself I suppose. Many sleepless nights dedicated to my amazingly clever plans or just trying to avoid horrible nightmares.

My mind is always occupied, thoughts buzzing constantly, entangling like cords and creating a large raveled mess. When I get into the rhythm of design plans, blueprints, tinkering, or even building machines those cords will loosen and untangle to form a coherent plan. I won’t lie that the lack of sleep isn’t helping those cords untangle though. It’s actually pretty quiet up here, the noises of cars and people are too far down to really bother me. It’s only the smoggy sky and me, and it was quite a cloudy day, per usual. I wondered even if the sun was given a chance to shine through the thick clouds, would it? Do the people of Gotham deserve its light and warmth?

Yawning and rubbing my eyes I feel the fabric of my gloves against my cheeks. I try to blink the tiredness out of my eyes, it’s so much easier to feel energized once I start up an act, but there is no reason for me to do so right now. My brain won’t stop randomly bringing up what Harley said about Selina, it was quite obsessive too as it usually is. Like a nuisance or a pest I would call it. I had a suspicion I would see her very soon and I wasn’t exactly prepared to face her wrath quite yet. It was pretty chilly up here and the breeze whistled as it blew past my ears. I decided to pull off my gloves and placed them neatly in my lap. I then subconsciously reached up to twirl a strand of hair between my fingers, feeling the curvy texture on my fingertips. I pluck the disparate strand without a second thought, letting it slip through my fingers. An anxious habit of sorts, one that had been increasingly getting worse as well.

Something suddenly felt off as if someone poked me in the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I could practically feel the presence behind me and my heart started to race as I begged that it wasn’t what I thought it was. But I knew they were lurking, just watching. I sighed loudly so they’re aware I know of their presence. I then hear light footsteps tapping against the floor towards me and I take it that I’m allowed to turn around. I’m greeted with a very familiar face, speaking of the devil. Selina wore a neutral but almost unreadable face, she wasn’t dressed in her usual Catwoman attire either. But neither was I. Her dark skin practically glowed as her short black hair rustled with the wind. She was a striking figure, powerful and beautiful, intimidating features. Her chestnut irises practically jutted me like a fish, oh how I wanted to return to the ocean. But I just raise a single eyebrow in a greeting.

“Selina, how are you?” I decided on asking, sounding nonchalant. She narrowed her sharp, cat-like eyes. I pull one of my knees up and rest my arm on it, trying to seem relaxed, dropping my hand from my hair to the floor. She crosses her arms over her chest and huffs out, unamused.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” She carefully speaks and I frown visibly, straight to the chase, the chase of cat and mouse. She was right but I’d never let her get that leverage over me. Her voice was honey smooth but it was all a lie, to lure you in then attack when you’re last suspecting it. I know why she’s here, I know what she wants to talk about and her smooth calming tone will not sway me in the slightest. If there’s anyone I’ve met Selina takes the cake for being a skillful manipulator, and it’s not always a bad thing or for a bad reason, she’s just skilled. But everyone knows nobody has as silver as a tongue as me.

It was tense and silent for a while, a lot of things went unsaid. Selina patiently waited for me to explain myself and I was trying to plan the best thing to say, trying to play out every scenario in my head to make sure I’d get the best possible outcome. Me and Selina were close, our relationship was very complicated though, kindness is shown through tiny subtle actions that you actually have to keep your eye out for, be alert. It functioned like a mind game and that was absolutely thrilling. Things never were admitted but pried out from each other and surprisingly it never hurt too bad. Most would just call this venting but for us it’s a game, you don’t get the information unless you earn it, and most times we could really care less about mushy drama. Selina at least, I like having blackmail.

“Riddle me this, what lies at the bottom of the sea and shakes like leaves in the wind?” I choked out finally, voice raspy. I give a saddened smile and Selina doesn’t budge at all. She lifted an eyebrow and I sighed, she never indulged my riddles, ever. I had used to say it was because she just wasn’t intelligent enough to figure them out but years have shown she isn’t dumb, just lazy. She finds no reason for her to rack her brain for a silly riddle, plus she knows how much it pisses me off. I can’t find anyone to indulge me in a good riddle. It was much harder for me to admit the answer though, but I tried to swallow my pride in hopes that Selina wouldn’t then try to slit my throat in order to get answers.

“A nervous wreck. It’s been getting worse, I’m just trying to distance myself. I know you understand. I guess it was a mistake going to see Harley though, seeing as she ratted me out.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. She was doing the right thing I’m sure, reaching out in concern for a friend. But I couldn’t give a shit, I do not want to be stuck here and scolded by Selina, she tries to play a role that doesn’t belong to her. We’re villains, bad people, we don’t get to worry about eachother like we’re in some found family bullshit. I drag my hand through my hair in a nervous tick. Selina’s gaze softened slightly though you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t intensely evaluating like I was. For my sanity Selina didn’t jump to defend her friend. She sighed heavily and walked over beside me, still standing while I sat awkwardly.

“Am I going to see you at Ozzie’s tomorrow?” She asked with an opener tone then before, lighter like bouncing on air. She stares out at the Gotham streets, this factory was tall enough to see over a few districts and buildings. I had kept a note of Halloween tomorrow in my mind, deciding that it’d be a perfect time to grant the weird psychiatrists side of the deal. I had many ideas for it and I found it pretty exciting myself, nobody ever asked ridiculous requests like that and I’m so glad he did, it makes it all the more fun and interesting. Oswald always hosted a Halloween party and this year I couldn’t attend, I’m sure he won’t mind, he’s a good friend of mine. He understands perfectly that business comes first.

“No, I can’t. I have plans with a client I have to do.” I tell her straight up and she gives me an amused expression, I just furrow my brows and my hand practically flies to my hair as if it was magnetic, finding strands to twist around my fingers.

“Are you sure you aren’t just trying to avoid everyone?” She huffed and smiled, finally sliding down to her feet and sitting criss-crossed beside me, resting her face in her palm that held her upper body upward. I give her an immature offended glare.

“Yes, I am quite sure.” I clicked my tongue off the roof of my mouth making an ‘tsk’ noise. Selina chuckled softly and I sassily rolled my eyes. We settled back into a comfortable silence and I felt myself slowly relaxing. With each second I counted it as a beat in my head, like the hand on a stopwatch would count the seconds. Ticking like a bomb, a bomb that would only unlatch if they get the final puzzle correct. The woman is scared, terrified and I am annoyed with her frightened stuttering. Her brain has decided to freeze at the utmost worst possible time, the time keeps ticking. Tick, tick. She cries, wails, but I will give her no relief, not unless she does the puzzle. I don’t want the woman to blow to pieces but I preferred to get a correct answer. To think she was so close too, just say it! And—

“How are you these days?” I started up small talk, I had an inability to let silence stay silent or just stay quiet myself. Everyone who’s met me knows this, my big mouth is often my worst flaw. My voice was a little louder and more sudden than I would have liked so I tried correcting it as quickly as possible, like I had just spoken after waking up from an unpleasant dream. Selina just groaned before going into a breathless laugh. The corners of her mouth curled up in a cat-like smile, seemingly deviously. My heart rate increased greatly from the memory, I absolutely hate silence. I stared at the auburn strands of hair that had fallen onto my lap, I really need to quit this habit.

“Same old, same old.” She shrugged with the same grin, a sly smile slid up onto my face. My eyes narrowed in playful suspicion and Selina closed her eyes as her face looked up to the sky. I could feel my breath start to go back to normal.

“Still in an affair with the Bat I see.” I snickered and shook my head fondly. She opened her eyes and faced me with a mischievous grin, one full of trouble. She definitely was the cat who got the cream.

“You know it.” She shrugged nonchalantly and I bursted out into laughter at the absurdity of the situation, in return she chuckled more controlled. It never seemed to not amaze me about her situation with the gothic vigilante. I knew Selina often used her good looks and wits to get what she wants but to woo the Bat? That was another level, one that probably no other rogue could achieve. Kudos to her, I almost wanted to applaud her with a slow clap.

Jonathan’s P.O.V.—

I am so glad I hadn’t forgotten my keys to my apartment, I sometimes had the tendency to leave them somewhere like on the counter or my cot. Walking into the apartment complex it was empty and I gladly wasn’t bothered by any other residents. A terrible habit from back in Georgia is that I would accidentally leave my front door unlocked when I left, it had never led to anything horrible but I still knew I needed to break the habit. So when I saw my door locked and shut tight, even deadbolted, I thought it was a little odd. But I shrugged it off, I don’t usually remember ever doing any of that manual stuff, it’s all on autopilot and discarded. The second I opened the door the room felt cold, way too cold, like the heating had been turned off. Nothing was touched in the apartment from when I left yet it just felt different. It was dark, like usual but this different uncomfortable dark that’s swallowed you whole, starting from the inside out. And suddenly my mouth felt very dry. I hurried over to my desk and checked my pill organizer, I hadn’t taken my medication this morning, this must be why. That could explain a lot of today’s events, why everything felt so unreal and absurd, tipping the world upside down and letting it drip down like a lava lamp. It was too late to take the meds, I’d might as well take the night time ones when that time came. For now I closed the pill organizer with a click and a sigh. Silence will usually put me at ease, but I felt claustrophobic in the room. I worried that if I stared at the walls for too long they’d start to move inwards.

My murky blue eyes catch something laying on my desk, a slightly bent cigarette pack, still sealed. Besides the pack lay a bright red lighter, it was scuffed up and had scratch marks on its ruby-red paint. It was such a bright color in my dark and dull room, it attracted my eyes towards it. Clumsy hands grab onto the items and with a shallow breath I walk towards the fire escape stairwell. I climbed out on the plates of the fire escape to stand out on, I could see that the sun was setting already, it always left early during winter. It left beautiful pink and yellow hues dancing in the sky, twirling upon the clouds like ballerinas on stage. The sky was an artist’s canvas. It was cold out, around the same temperature as my apartment but I knew it’d get much colder when the sun finally sets. My fingers feel numb as they tear open the packaging on the cigarette box. Each breath exhales steam into the air, before even taking a huff of the cigarette it seemed I was already exhaling a smoky breath. My eyelids flutter half-lidded and I place the newly freed cigarette between my lips.

My thumb presses down and rolls the flint wheel which sparks a flame before trying it again and the flame swayes before staying put. It was bright and warm and its light flickered on everything that surrounded it. I brought the flame to the end of the cigarette before retreating the lighter and inhaling the nicotine. I’m not a heavy smoker but I do indulge myself on times I feel is right. The lights of the city bounce off the ruby lighter nicely, a glimmering reflection being made on the shiny surface. If I looked hard enough I could see myself in the reflection, warped and placed on the red background. I take a risk and let my weight lean against the railing, you should never put that much trust in Gotham’s rusty fences. For a moment everything seemed almost peaceful and when my eyes shut I felt my brain trying to rest after a day like today. The smell of cigarette smoke fills the air. The rustle of the city and pigeon’s flapping wings can be heard faintly in the background.

It’s then when I reopen my eyes and look to my right to see another figure standing there beside me. I do not have the capability to be frightened anymore but his presence did startle me greatly, I had to hold myself down from flinching. My body goes painfully stiff and I side-eye the man. He side-eyes me back, a serious expression on his face. I take a long drag of the cigarette. The man beside me looks deathly ill, all the color drained from his face. His lips were purple like he had just come out of an ice pool, yet he did not shiver. He had rich dark skin but his fingertips and places on his body, such as his ears and nose, were a blue-ish white color. This most definitely signified frostbite, this man was freezing. He looked as if he had died from hypothermia, it was a jarring sight. Upon closer look I saw his eyelashes frozen together, and the skin on his bald head was also irritated from the cold. I didn’t know how to react, no words could leave my mouth.

“You got another one?” He asked with a deadpanned gaze, lifting a frost bitten finger to point at the pack of cigarettes I held in one hand. He had a deep but raspy voice, something told me he hadn’t spoken for a long time. I really should have taken my medication this morning. But instead I stutter and fumble with the cigarette box. His black irises watched me carefully. Then I shakily hand the man a fresh cigarette and he accepts it. I decided to hand him the red lighter as well. He clicked the lighter and lit the end of his cigarette, quick to hand the lighter back, trying to avoid close contact with the flame. After taking a drag he exhales with a content hum. I should be angry at this random man who is on the fire escape outside my apartment but I’m more intrigued out of anything. He looks like a walking corpse yet he’s standing there smoking a cigarette, I mean I’ve met some weird looking people in Gotham but never like this. I wanted to laugh it off tiredly that I was just losing my mind, that this was all a huge hallucination for not taking my meds. I sure felt crazy. He continues to just stare out into Gotham, dead-faced. I didn’t actually mind, I wasn’t in the mood for conversation but a few answers may be nice, even if he is just a hallucination. I tap my fingers on the cold metal railing for comfortability.

“You and that boy. You reminded me of a good time, I guess I came here to thank you.” The man spoke slowly and much not nearly quick enough for my confusion. He looked like he was looking out to somewhere else, his tone soft and eyes hazed. The man seemed to be older than me but didn’t look like it too much, the way he spoke reminded me of an elder reminiscing on the past, one that had given up on trying for the future and spent all their time reflecting on the past.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.” I replied sternly, I wasn’t aware of what the man was trying to get out of this. He slowly turned to me and slightly smiled, his expression still too stiff to really get the message across. He delicately plucked the cigarette from his purple-ish plump lips and blew a cloud of smoke between us. I narrowed my eyes.

“Do you take me for a fool? I see the way you look at him. I’ve had trouble recollecting my memories but your guy’s interaction brought back something I never want to forget again. Don’t get greedy with my ‘thank-you’.” I couldn’t tell if the man was amused or highly annoyed, but either way it made me uncomfortable. I made sure to keep my expression poker-faced but I was dying under the frustration and confusion. Oh how I just wanted to grab a crowbar and pry this all open.

“Who exactly is ‘him’?” I questioned, I saw a lot of people today. He glared at me before settling into a look of what seemed to be pity, disgusting, vile, I wanted to puke. Who did this random man think he is, truly this is a mystery. The look of pity makes my skin crawl and irritates me to no end.

“I see I’ve misunderstood, I thought you were aware. I’m talking about the green-tied ginger you spoke to on Mace Ave. I happened to be there myself when I overheard your conversation, and something you did or he said brought back a memory with my beloved wife. I think it was the look, the look in your eye that matched hers. And then I was in our living room doing a waltz to whatever Austrian folk dance song was playing on the old radio, hand in hand with Nora—that is her name I think. It’s all hard for me to recover so I came to thank you for somehow allowing me to get that back. It felt right.” The man spoke slowly but in an alluring voice, his tone was somber but his gaze relished in the memory. I wasn’t a fan of sappy stories made to bring tears to your eyes, but I made an exception to tolerate this one. After all, it seemed he had no ill intentions. He seemed to truly long for his wife, going great lengths to thank people who probably had no hand in him randomly remembering events. I wasn’t sure if I should be offended with how he described my gaze, to compare it to a love-stricken admiration. That was never something I ever considered, love. It seems pointless, is all the hurt even worth that tiny but of happiness only some will describe. I was told to love my grandmother and in return a bucket of ice cold water and ice cubes down my back when I asked to be able to visit the playground, like all the other kids. And the day I pried about my mother and father, I was pent up and angry so she threw me in the shed and locked me there all night. It’s there you learn that throwing a pebble at hungry crows does not make them fly away but get angry and attack, swarm you until all you can see is the inky black of their feather, and wish for that to be death itself. I will never love that woman, but I guess family love is much different than romance. Even so I wouldn’t know, any crush I had growing up I quickly tried to get rid of as I knew it’d never work out and only hurt me in the end. Edward of all people, to harbor affections for him would be ridiculous, he has a far much wider catalog of partners to choose from and I’d be nowhere close to that. I now was angry with this man for making me question such things, to even make me have this conflict.

“What is your name, sir?” I decided to ask, and put the cigarette back between my lips. I thought if this man is going to drop something like this one I might as well learn his name. He looks back out towards the Gotham streets, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Victor Fries.” He smiles softly, I wasn’t even sure his frozen lips could move that much. I only sighed, exhaling the smoke gathered up. My fist tightly clenched the ruby lighter, thumb smoothing over its shiny surface.

Chapter Text

The morning had been a normal one, the light that filtered through the open shutters of my window, which I knew I had shut, cast onto my cot and sleeping figure. The light kissed my eyelids and the once peaceful dark was a bright red and it woke me up. Eyes fluttered awake now irritated from the sunlight, pupils shrinking when in contact with the light. My arm slowly reached over to the side table and felt around for my glasses, making them skirt around with every swoop of my hand. I finally grab onto them and rise with a groan, slipping on my glasses as well. The world around me slowly came back into place and I let out an audible yawn. My joints crack as I stretch; back pain from the uncomfortable bedding. I settle for a moment, beginning to get my brain back up and running. I must make a call to Edward, but what do I say to him? It would be nice if I could chew him out for his ridiculous set up but I also wanted to listen to him scramble for an explanation. Or perhaps he already had one in mind. I huffed and pushed myself off the bed and towards the kitchen area in the apartment. That cold feeling returns as I pass the main area but I take it as just getting out from under the warm covers. It’s while brewing myself a cup of black coffee I stare at my home phone sitting on the counter, perched up in this charging station that had a wire connected to the outlet. Most people don’t use home phones anymore, not unless they have a home business, but I just never really felt like getting rid of mine. Besides I like to think if my personal phone was dead, which it usually is, I’ll have a phone to call the fire department if my apartment sets on fire. That’s probably just me trying to find excuses to be lazy though. The phone hardly works anyway, I’ve been told I often sound like I’m underwater from the other end.

The pot begins to fill with coffee and I leave it unattended to walk to my red cardigan hanging up near the front door. I rummaged through the pockets until I pulled out the very bented and wrinkled piece of paper. Folding my fingers around it into a fist I head back to the phone and promptly dial in the number. I figured I’d might as well do this when it’s still daylight and it’s still too early for me to overthink or second guess. My fingers tap against the counter and I can hear myself swallow the saliva gathered in my mouth. There is a light ring being admitted from the phone and into my ear. I start to think that I can hear my own heartbeat and breathing. My body is tense, that I know. The sound of liquid dripping into the pot fills the quiet room, despite being so quiet every little thing felt so loud. Like the click when someone picked up from the other end.

“Uh, yeah hello?” A female voice speaks into the phone nonchalantly, the background sounds very noisy. I could hear the muffled voice of another female who must have been nearby. There’s an obnoxious wet chewing sound coming from the other end and I have to hold myself back from cringing, especially when the noise is being sent right into my ear.

“Uh, yes, well..who is this exactly?” My voice is choked up for some reason and I’m just very confused as well as not wanting to be in this situation. He must have given me some random number, I didn’t want to bother this lady, especially so early in the morning. But mostly I just didn’t feel like talking to her. I clear my throat to calm myself into my usual demeanor. The weird chewing noise stopped but there’s a sound of blowing, like blowing up a balloon but much quieter, then a pop before going back to chewing. Great, she was blowing bubble gum.

“This is Query, didn’t you call us?” She huffed amused, laughter can be heard from the other person in the room. I hear shuffling from the other end. I assume she’s readjusting how she was sitting. The laughter felt mocking and I felt my patience wearing thin.

“This line wouldn’t have anything to do with a man named Edward, would it?” I questioned just to make sure, If they were random people I probably shouldn’t use the alias the Riddler. It’s silent for a moment before I get a reply. Though the name she gave is curious…

“Possibly. What’s your name, hon.” Query asks now sounding more attentive. The obnoxious gum chewing doesn’t halt though. I narrowed my eyes, this better not be another trick or riddle.

“Dr. Jonathan Crane.” It slips off my tongue so easily. I hear Query repeat my first name a few times before turning to the person beside them and asking them a question. The person gives a muffled reply and Query suddenly gasps, making me flinch. The tapping on the counter has increased in speed, not that I noticed though. The pitcher of coffee was almost done as well.

“Johnny! Ed’s been talking about you all this morning and last night, he seems to be making up some sort of scheme, and hasn't taken a break in hours! I wondered when I’d get to hear from you, what did you do to make my boss so inspired? He gets like this with plans all the time, the period of nothing then randomly a bright idea and nonstop working and working, then rinse and repeat. But it isn’t common for these plans to be about someone other than the Bat.” Query rambled happily but I was still recovering from the horrendous nickname, made my blood run cold especially with the horrible memories attached. But it was definitely a shock to hear that he’d been working devotedly to our deal, it was odd at most. To think that he had been talking about me too, with whoever these people were, henchwomen perhaps. If he was so interested in our deal then he couldn’t have set me up, right? That would make no sense, especially if he’s working tirelessly for my end of the deal. I suddenly remembered I should definitely take my meds this morning, eyeing the place they sat in suspicion. But knowing my brain I’d probably forget the second I hang up the phone.

“Uh yes, I was hoping I could speak with him.” I replied still troubled, what was I going to say to him now if he in fact hadn’t tried to set up my death or doom. I could hear Query yell at the woman beside her, who’s name was supposedly Echo, to go inform their boss someone’s on the phone. I can’t even find it in myself to find these ladies’ names humorous, considering that query literally meant ‘to ask a question to clear up doubt’, why hadn’t I realized before? Edward had as much humor as he had patience, none. He left that to the clown I guess.

There was a long period of silence between me and the other caller but it wasn’t really silence either, she continued to chew her bubble gum while the sounds of possibly a television came from the background, or maybe it was a radio, I’m not sure. From my end was nothing but me trying my best to hold my breath so I wasn’t nervously breathing into the phone. I wasn’t sure if I should just wait or say something, and I decided on just staying quiet until Query said something again. Suddenly from the other end there’s loud shouting and I make it out as Echo communicates back to Query, seeing as the shout was higher pitched and along the lines of “he said..”. When Echo presumingly gets back to Query they talk and Query lowers the phone so I was unable to hear what they were discussing. I scowl with annoyance.

“Alright he said he can talk to ya’, I’m gonna transfer the phone call so don’t hang up.” Query cheerfully returns and before I can even get anything out she transfers me. I stare at the wall in front of me in disbelief for a few seconds to collect myself, taking a deep breath in. A click is heard from the other end and some slight shuffling.

“Hello, is this Dr. Crane?” The familiar charming voice speaks and I recognize it instantly, I can practically feel the slyness in his voice. Tongue-tied for a second I blink before trying to clear the dam and let my words spill out.

“Yes. I have delivered your gift to Jervis, you weren’t lying about his..striking personality.” I awkwardly get out, I’ve never been great at socializing and especially not when I can’t see the other person’s face, can’t read their reactions.

“Oh, that’s great! Jervis can be a nut sometimes but he has a good heart.” Edward chirped gleefully, I only frowned at his words.

“Does having a good heart to you consist of putting his guests at risk? One does not usually have a good heart if they try to stop others from living.” I snarkily bit back to pry out some answers. I will admit that I was bitter.

“Risk? How were you at risk?” Edward deflected not fully-understanding what I was trying to say. My hand grips the phone tighter and my brows furrow angirly.

“Don’t play dumb. Jervis was extremely deranged when I had arrived, there is no way he was in a correct mental state to house guests. He had forced me to have tea and then immediately told me of the times he’s poisoned his own tea, with a man that manic I believe that it could have most definitely been poisoned.” My words snap out harshly like a lecture from a parent, or a professor.

“Oh, Jervis is just like that, I like to call it a quirk of his. I hadn’t thought that he’d try to offer you tea but I wasn’t expecting him to be in that type of episode either. I suppose I should have warned you to never drink or eat anything Jervis gives you, the man’s specialty is the mind not the stomach.” Edward speaks in an upbeat tone still and it’s off putting for sure. I wasn’t sure on how I was even supposed to respond to that, was he even really taking responsibility because it felt more like he was brushing the dirt off his clothes. This isn’t really all I wanted to discuss as well so I couldn’t get into an argument about this, no matter how much Edward’s nonchalant attitude made me want to throw the phone out into Gotham city from my window.

“Yes well, try to remind people of that when you send them to go do a duty for you.” The sarcasm in my tone was leaking through like water in a colander. I rolled my eyes as well but he was unable to see that.

“Oh, I suppose you would like to know what I have planned for you, correct?” Edward totally deflected what I had said and hummed happily, there was a noise of things being pushed around on the floor from his microphone, a chair screeching made me wince. I can only sigh, he takes this as a sign to continue.

“Well I think I may keep it a secret a little longer, but by noon I would like to meet you at the intersection at Pine st. There is something I wish to show you.” He talked with a grunt and I soon figured out why when I heard a loud crash, and a muttered curse. My hand that holds the phone twitches, as I continue to stare wide eyed at the wall. He wanted to meet me, today, at noon? Someone who’s probably extremely busy wants to meet me, it’s baffling. My cheeks flush at the thought, but I quickly come to my senses.

“Are..you alright Mr. Nygma?” I hesitantly ask into the phone, there’s silence before another clunk and a louder yelp. Edward mutters a loud string of curses.

“Yeah, just heavy shit. Didn’t know the desk was that low, I thought I could lean up more..why am I telling you this? And just Ed works.” He was half talking to me and half talking to himself, it was a lot of jumbled nonsense.

“What?” I was confused by his last comment. He made a noncommittal sound.

“You don't have to call me Mr. Nygma, it makes me feel old. Most people call me Ed, but don't try Eddie, unfortunately not everyone listens to that rule though.” Edward scowled and continued doing whatever he was doing. I hummed in acknowledgment, staring off into space. My eyes drift to the coffee pot, I hope it hasn’t gone cold.

“Jonathan or Jon is alright with me, but absolutely not Johnny.” I spoke but my voice was quieter this time, more insecure at best. It felt right though, it’s only fair I give him my name after he gave me his. He made a delighted sound at the new knowledge.

“Well then Jonathan, I’ll see you at noon.” He spoke in a sing-song voice and I couldn’t stop the tiny smirk that tugged at my lip in the news of someone happy to meet up with me. I don’t usually care about what others think and I’m often not invited to places, but it never bothered me because I enjoyed the solidarity. The excitement, the electric shock of something new and uncertain ran through my veins. The only noise was the beep of the phone being hung up.

——

I arrived early, nervous of what would happen if I was late. The intersection was boring to watch, just like any other road intersection in this city. Cars passed up and down, left and right. Who knew where they were headed off to, but mostly who cares? Everyone has somewhere to be in Gotham. It was as loud as it was busy, the distant flick of a light on a traffic light. The smell of gasoline tickled my nose. I will say, though, waiting out in the cold wasn’t very pleasant. I rubbed my palms together and tried to blow hot air on them, my ghostly breath present in the air. I began to panic, questioning whether he’d actually show up. Had I been set up? No, I was being irrational again. It was still early and he gave me no reason to not trust he’d be here. I didn’t even want to question why I had such a hard time believing someone actually wanted to meet me somewhere. I don’t interact with people much, besides work, but even then it’s all professional, just a mask in a suit. Stuck in my own head, my gaze to my feet, I didn’t notice someone sneak up on me. Something pokes my back and I jump, whipping around, reflexes ready for a fight. But I relaxed once I noticed who it was, Edward gave me a puzzled look, hand holding a small stick. He threw it to the floor lazily, I suspected that was also where he found it. Why hadn’t I heard him approaching? I blamed it on the noisy cars, though I was really just out of it, in my head. I wouldn’t admit I wasn’t fully aware of my surroundings for a moment, unprepared.

“I’m glad to see you here.” Edward smiled, snuggling his head farther into the large scarf he wore. I almost smiled, Gotham got so cold so soon. I’d never fully get used to this area of the United States, the climate was much different in states not too far south. I only nodded at him with a light hum.

“Alrighty, let’s get going. We only have so much daylight.” He perked up and grinned, motioning me to follow. Past the street I could see the Halloween festival being set up, a festival Gotham does when everyone comes over to trick-or-treat, or hand out candy. People dress up and there’s games and activities to do. I was confused as to why we were coming here. It doesn’t open until night time and I had actually never attended the festival before, far too busy with work and other things. But we took a left into the abandoned scrap yard just beside the set up, it was blocked off by metal gates. You could still see them setting it up through the chains though, the fence was broken too, part of the bottom ripped up so there was a passageway. Now this made less sense, the scrap yard was abandoned and practically not touched. It had been raided of everything far before, sometimes you’ll see the occasional homeless person hanging around. Edward looked excited, there was a pep to his step as he walked. He brought us to a large metal shed, abandoned and in poor condition. The walls rusted and the roof had holes, it had once been a garage to fix cars. Edward walked up to the front door, it was surely locked. I wasn’t sure on how he expected us to enter, the place lacked any windows. But weirdly Ed pulled a keychain out of his pocket and fiddled with it, inserting the correct key and opening the door. He backed away to let me inside with a smile.

“This is your place?” I asked in astonishment and he blinked before laughing.

“No, I just changed the locks. Though I did claim the place a while ago.” He chuckled softly and I just scrunched my face in subtle confusion. I decided to finally enter, it was pitch black inside. Edward followed me and moved somewhere out of my sight, I couldn’t see anything. Suddenly a switch is flicked and dim, grainy light is instantly turned on, flashing the area. I squinted from the sudden bright light, blinking a couple times to get rid of the weird colored shapes that flew around in my view. The place was dusty, it was obvious it had been a long time since someone stepped foot in here. But there was this large structure in the middle of the floor, screens around the room, some broken and some not. But they were all shut off. A giant question mark hung from the entrance into the odd structure.

“It's a maze, for Batman. It worked well enough until he smashed right through, I haven’t touched this place since I got arrested.” Edward sighed heavily and came over to stand next to me. I tried to take in everything in my environment, it was all so odd.

“May I ask what we’re doing here then?” I turned to question him and he only smugly grinned. He had been expecting this question, I frowned.

“We, my friend, are going to build a haunted house! We’ll revise the maze into a haunted house to scare the kids! You asked for fear and you’re gonna get it, it’ll be the scariest haunted house Gotham has ever seen!” He practically beamed and I was taken back by all the thought and effort put into this. All I had done was deliver a package, this was so much more. And while it wasn’t exactly what I was looking for, who was I to turn it down, scaring the shit out of teenagers in a haunted house sounded highly amusing to me. Except there were many issues.

“We don’t have any actors.” I frowned and Edward thought for a second, his hand brought up to his bottom lip. His eyes focused on a peculiar spot on the ground to focus.

“We have Query and Echo, I’ll ask them to help. And you forgot you’re talking to the best mechanic in the world, I can whip us up some robots who can do the job perfectly fine on their own!” He smiled and huffed out a breath. I frowned though, wondering if we had enough time. Thankfully the maze had a structure built for us already and that would save a lot of time. But Ed seemed persistent and he didn’t want to let me down. It was…kind, kindness isn’t something you come across commonly in this city.

We got to work quickly, clearing out the damage done from last time and recycling what was left. I put up a metal sheet over a hole in one of the walls, using a noisy power drill that Ed had supplied me. He was off tinkering with spare parts he had lying around, or dropped off earlier today. I tried to sneak a glance at the blueprints he apparently drew up yesterday, but he was quick to turn so I couldn’t see. It felt mostly out of insecurity, even though I’m not even sure what a proper blueprint looked like. I decided to go out and collect the stuff Ed had stored there earlier today, it was trash bags full of many different Halloween decorations. I huffed with a smile at the sight. But while dragging two of the bags with me I spotted a pile of junk in the scrap yard. There was a broken bed frame, along with a soggy and heavily damaged mattress. There was a stool that was actually in a pretty good state. There seemed to be other things as well, I spotted the top of a table in a pile to my right, the legs discarded here. I could work with this.

Getting the bed frame set up was a pain, it was cracked through the middle and so Edward came over and glued the pieces together, like a puzzle, telling me to wait for it to dry. I apparently didn’t wait long enough, tossing the destroyed mattress on it only caused it to snap. Edward begrudgingly came over and instantalled nails to keep it secure, grumbling under his breath as I stood beside him to watch. I was proud once I got it to stand, mattress on top. Other areas of the maze I put in other furniture, I was adamant on fixing the table I found without Edward’s help, who was loudly cutting into a metal wall to install some kind of contraption. It was fascinating to watch him weld, the sparks were bright and jumped around. This light reflected off the welding shield that was over his face. He worked so diligently, so precise. The table was thankfully much easier than the bed frame. I rocked a little with a squeak but it stood on its four legs, I took that as an accomplishment.

I carried all the decoration bags inside and smiled at some of the ridiculous objects. A plastic model of a crow, it’s painted all black with tiny red beady eyes. I put it in the best spot, Edward only looks over curiously. It was pretty easy to set the decorations up, they were cheesy to me but I guess when it’s dark it won’t really matter. I hung a squishy bat with red eyes and sharp fangs on the wall, suddenly yelling that Batman was here. Edward flinched so bad he dropped a wet paint brush on the floor, on the tarp under him. He turned around and I simply pointed to the goofy looking bat, I got chewed out for it but I snicked anyway. His scream was high pitch and girly, not my fault it was amusing.

I carefully stacked some styrofoam pumpkins and heard irritated mumbling. I stopped what I was doing to walk over and see what he was up to, he was trying to string wires on the top, standing on his tippy-toes. I chuckled darkly and he turned to give me a harsh glare.

“Didn’t you consider bringing a step ladder?” I smirked smugly and his mouth gaped open in irritation. He wasn’t even short, but it was fun to tease him, especially if I’m able to do something he cannot.

“I didn’t remember the walls being this tall when I built it.” He growled through gritted teeth. I just smile, like venom. But we weren’t fighting, there was no malice behind our words. We were bickering, and I found myself having a lot of fun. To spit at someone without intentionally causing harm was something different.

“I suppose you shrunk then.” I shrugged trying to conceal my shit-eating grin. Edward let out a distraught noise, storming over to me and practically throwing the wires at me. Luckily I caught them, some sinking down between my hands.

“How about you hang these up for me then, since you seem persistent to pester me.” Edward crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, bottom lip sticking out slightly, brows furrowed angirly. I only look at him and shrug once more, going over to the place where he was hanging the cords.

Everything was being put into place, barely any daylight was left. I tucked in one of Edward’s odd robots that was on the mattress. But I accidentally triggered the motion senses and it popped right up, I suppressed a flinch at the sudden movement. Thankfully the stupid machine pulled the covers back up with it when it laid back down. I glared at it as it laid there motionless. I set off to go find Edward, unfortunately the place was still kind of a maze and it took me a few dead ends to finally find him. He was standing in a room looking around, once he heard my footsteps he turned around with a bright smile.

“Hey Jonathan, come here I want to show you something real quick!” He smirked and brought his hands up to rest on his hips. I lift a brow in suspicion but step forward and suddenly a claw from the ceiling comes down and lightly grabs my head before retracting back up. I fixed the glasses that knocked sideways and smiled. It was definitely something, but it was amazing to me that he built it all on his own in such little time. He was really enjoying this project and I suppose I am too, it’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. My body aches and there’s dried paint all over my clothes and arms but it was enjoyable.

“What do you think?” He asks hoping for validation, I supply it in a grin, a small chuckle escaping my lips. His eyes practically twinkle at the praise, they’re so very bright and beautiful. There was no competition, for his eyes glimmered more than thousands of stars in the sky, it stole my breath for a moment.

“I think it’s about done, you ready?” I smiled, I took the opportunity to do test runs already. Everything went as it should and I felt pride in our project. He nods and with a smile he pulls out his phone, checking something.

“Query and Echo are on their way, you may want to go find a good spot to watch.” He grinned. Most of the maze was roofless, unless it was covered to hold wires. There’s a little balcony above us where we could stay and watch from above. The balcony was where Ed would stand to observe Batman in the maze, when it was first built.

Candles were lit in places we put them, two on the balcony beside us. Once Ed shut off the lights it was quickly swallowed into an inky blackness, the candles flickering in the light. Edward says something about his henchwomen arriving so we take a step outside. It was dark out now, the sun had set long ago. The Halloween festival besides us had begun not too long ago, the noise of people cheering and laughing.

“How are we gonna get people here?” I asked and he blinked before smiling and turning to address Echo and Query.

“Girls, how are we going to get people to come to the haunted house again?” He asked and they gave him a weird look, a “why are we going over this again” look. Despite the confusion Echo quickly recovers and smiles.

“We have our ways, leave that to me and Query, boss!” She smirked mischievously and I wasn’t sure on how to process that information. Thankfully Query jumped to clarify.

“See that hole in the fence, we’ll go over to the festival and advertise the haunted house, people can get through that opening. Once people see someone go they’re sure to follow.” She clapped her hands together in excitement. Ed nodded at the clarification.

“We’re, like, super good at persuasion. Right boss?” Echo giggled and Edward sighed with a fond smile on his face. He didn’t object and therefore it wasn’t disproved. I could see Edward was itching to get away so I walked over to him and stood close by.

“Let’s go back in, I want to get comfortable.” I whispered to Edward and he turned to look at me with an amused smile.

“I’m going back in, good luck with your quest.” He waves and I just give them a glance before we walk back in. Ed picks up a candle stick that we left by the door, taking a match from his pocket and igniting it. Once ignited we could actually see and he led me to the flimsy metal stairs up to the metal balcony. The complete darkness was really beneficial for the haunted house, I found myself comfortable being surrounded in it. Edward looked a little off but he seemed alright, I suppose he didn’t enjoy the darkness as much as I did. I let him hog the candle because of this. We settle on the balcony and sit down, I stretch my long legs out in front of me while Edward sat with his legs in a criss-cross position. It wasn’t clear on how long it should take and so I scooted backwards to lean against the hard wall, body aching from all the manual work done today. Edward sat vigilant, and tense, he refused to let his guard down and it confused me. But this wouldn’t be important as in less than a half hour a group of rowdy teens wander inside the building. Right as I had been dozing off too. They’re all dressed up in obnoxious customs, they laugh at each other's hesitance with fake bravery and it excites me. Edward whisper-shouts my name and I sit up to get a better look. I know that he was only interested in seeing if his machines worked correctly but he seemed to match my enthusiasm.

The teenagers laugh and push each other around before wandering inside the maze, they snicker at it and insult it. So it was satisfying when they screamed at a random jump-scare. They become overly frustrated at each dead end and each scare, one of them let out a girly screech at contraption Ed built which was just a robot program to run after a person until the end of the hallway, triggered by a motion sensor. But a dark shadowy figure chasing you, even if it was too slow to ever be able to catch up, gave priceless reactions. And when the teenagers leave they look disheveled, one pumps their hands in the air and exclaims their enjoyment inside the haunted house while the others look like they had just walked out of a hurricane. Me and Edward share a look before grinning, I start laughing and then he does too. It had worked, it really had! Those teens looked like they were going to piss themselves in fear, it was so satisfactory. It might be cheap startles but one cannot complain when the symphony finally plays your favorite song. And oh how the orchestra played. The feeling I had gotten all those years ago, in my hometown’s old corn maize, was there and it bubbled in my gut. This was..fun, I was having fun. Fun, such an odd feeling but I think I quite enjoyed it. The tingling in my gut only increased with the way Edward looked at me with a fond look in his eyes and a pleasant grin. Was it fun that I was feeling when I looked at him, that cannot possibly make sense. But my face heats up from the sudden blood rush and I turn my head to look away, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

After the group of teens had left more people came, all of Edward’s contraptions reset themselves and so they worked perfectly each time. One girl screamed when the claw came down and gently grabbed at her hair. An older man jumped out of his skin at the robot who was in the bed. One woman jumped so high at the animatronic snake which slithered across the floor. Or maybe it was a real snake, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were living in this abandoned shack. The rats were just free decor. Each time me and Edward chuckled at the scared people who went through our project, at one point I had to take off my glasses to wipe the tears from my eyes. I hadn’t laughed this much in years.

Chapter Text

At some point Edward turned to me saying we should go over to the Halloween festival, just to check it out. I agreed, deciding the haunted house would do fine on its own, plus Query and Echo were there mandating the line. Ed quickly told them where we were going and we walked over to the broken fence. I held up the broken part to widen the hole, but I held it for Edward to go through first after I followed. There was music and lights, people were handing out candy to children and there was a cornhole game going on to the left of us. Some people were selling Halloween related items and others were selling home cooked food. And there were even stands with games, like tossing the ring on the top of a bottle or bouncing a ping-pong ball into the tops of bottles. Everyone was dressed in costumes and for a moment I felt out of place, I still would never publicly humiliate myself like that though.

“I’m starving, I’m going to see what’s around, do you want anything?” Edward tilted his head as he asked and I felt myself grow anxious, I wasn’t one to each much ever and especially lately I’ve felt no appetite. I looked around for an excuse and spotted the bathrooms which was just an area full of porta potties.

“Uh, I’ll catch up with you, I’m gonna use the restroom real quick.” I jester over towards the area with my thumb and Ed shrugs, I’ll just hide out until he gets his food. Hopefully he wouldn’t question my aversion to food, hopefully he won’t find me weird. Why do I suddenly care what someone thinks? What he thinks? I really am losing it.

“Alright, I’ll be right back.” He says and turns away and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. I did decide to head towards the bathroom but there was no way I was going inside, I could only imagine the stench of a Gotham outhouse. Oddly enough I see a man leaning against the fence beside the bathroom, he looks to be covered head-to-toe in burn marks, skin an angry red and any hair scorched off. The burns looked severe but perhaps this was just the man’s costume, since some people really like to go all out. Especially since nobody else seems to stare at the man weirdly, maybe I was just unaware. The man wore a bright red outfit, like the color of an ambulance or fire truck, the red drew my eyes right to it. The man noticed my staring and scoffed, I take this as an opportunity to go forward.

“Can I help you?” The man rasps, like his throat was injured. I didn’t want to believe he was just committed to the act. His skin was blistering and peeling off, some more severe blisters had puss leaking from them.

“Do you always stare like this?” He raised a brow but there was no hair and so you could only see the muscle rise and burnt skin stretch.

“Sometimes.” I speak sarcastically but the man isn’t very amused. I couldn’t justify my curiosity but the man quite literally looked like he was lit on fire, put out, and now just standing here. He looked dead, just like the man who was on the fire escape. I decided I must get his name as well, if this is going to be a common thing now.

“My name is Jonathan Crane, and may I ask you for yours?” I start with a serious tint to my voice. He regards me for a moment.

“Sure, why not. Garfield Lynns, previously Fire Marshal of Gotham. You can see where that ended up.” He scoffs and it strikes me that this isn’t a costume, but nobody was even reacting. I look around and in fact nobody seems to notice either of us.

“I..” I cleared my throat, “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Lynns. Until we meet again.” I nodded and he just stared at me.

“Likewise.” He responds and I turn on my heel to get away quickly. Now that I think about it, I did forget my meds this morning. Really? Am I so reliant on those things, they never worked before? Why now? Seeing ghosts, yeah that’s a great topic to bring up with a psychiatrist. I am my own psychiatrist, I didn’t do years of schooling to pay someone else for it!

Thankfully Ed was walking back with what seemed to be tortilla chips and cheese dip, I don’t think they had any better options. I quickly go over to him and he questions my distressed attitude with a tilt of the brow, I don’t acknowledge it.

“What’s got your panties in a twist? The lock didn’t work and someone walked in on you?” Edward had a sly grin and his words were playful but sharp like a blade, the velvety soft voice. He was teasing, I only rolled my eyes.

“Let’s go somewhere less crowded, it’s too loud.” I complain and rub my temples in hopes of banishing my headache. Edward doesn’t seem to mind the suggestion and so we walk out towards the sidewalk of the street that would lead into the fair. It was much emptier and much more pleasant. At some point Edward tosses his finished chips in a dumpster, the loud bang momentarily disrupting the quiet. It is very rare that Gotham is ever quiet, and when it is it’s usually a bad thing. But I couldn’t find it in myself to care, at least I could be able to sort out my own thoughts.

It’s quiet for a moment before Edward suddenly gets a thoughtful explanation on his face and I turned to question his change in mood. But he then randomly shouts, “race you to the town park!” Like a child and then ran off. I was in shock, there were many tiny parks within Gotham, usually in poor conditions, but for some reason I decided to race after him too. And, well, seeing a larger man chasing a smaller one down the street isn’t an uncommon sight in Gotham, just for different reasons. I can feel the adrenaline pump in my veins and I smile. Edward so totally jaywalks but I just run after him, nobody follows those rules anyway. It’s dark out and most of Gotham is in bed, the others are the criminals who have just woken up. I want to yell at Ed to slow down but I barely have enough oxygen in my lungs. We both bolt into the park like madmen, weaving around benches and towards the giant stone fountain in the middle. I got close enough I could almost reach him, my fingertips tingle at the sensation of being so close, so I tried to leap forward but the little shit took a sharp turn at the last moment and suddenly I didn't know what happened until I heard a loud splash. The water was shallow, only up to my waist when sitting up. The water is cold, and murky, and utterly disgusting. It’s gotten me soaked, dripping from my hair. My clothes hung too tight to my frame. I can feel coins under my palms which hold me upwards. Thankfully the pump in the fountain is turned off so no water is being sprayed all over me. Edward has his hands covering his mouth but it isn’t long before he cannot contain himself and breaks out into laughter. His laughter makes me flush heavily and suddenly I’m no longer cold from the water. He bends over unable to stop laughing and I just laugh at how ridiculous he’s acting. He gasps for air while swiping away tears.

“Jonathan I’m sorry, I forgot I wasn’t actually trying to lose you, usually people chasing me don’t have pleasant intentions.” He continues to softly laugh and I smile. And then he does something shocking, he holds out his hand to have me grasp it. He hasn’t once touched me, he’s been very adverse to it. From practically throwing the letter at me, to skimming away whenever we stood together, to poking me with a stick to get my attention, I was able to catch on quickly. He was very uncomfortable with us touching. Now I’m not sure why, perhaps the man has had a bad past with touch, but it was something I decided to respect and never thought he would be the one to offer his hand. He’s always tense around me, this layer of untrustworthiness. And so I gently reach out to the offering hand, lightly touch his palm as he flinches, and then grasp it tightly and tug him forward with all my strength before he could actually react. It worked as he yelped and fell right into the disgusting fountain with me, splashing me as well. When the water cleared he was positively soaked, auburn bangs matted to his forehead. His clothes now hung to him oddly. He gave me a glare with no heat, he looked like an unhappy cat in a bath.

“Really?” His voice drones dripping with displeasure and I laughed. I stare at him for a moment, admiring his strikingly handsome features. And then he scoops the water with his palms and splashes me, the cold water hitting the front of my torso and face.

“Edward! That got in my mouth!” I groaned and took my glasses off to scrub my closed eyes. I tried to spit the metallic tasting water out and Edward giggled maniacally, the little shithead. I was half-tempted to retaliate but Edward suddenly looked around in the water.

“How much do you think we’d make if we robbed the fountain?” He joked and I too looked at the coins underneath us. I smiled at his random question, I didn’t mind the impulsive conversations he started as much as I thought I would.

“Barely three dollars. Three dollars away from charity, from poor orphaned children, how could you.” I smirked sarcastic and playful, he grinned in response.

“Everyone knows charities in Gotham don’t actually give money away. Unless you’re Thomas Wayne, but wait, he’s dead.” Edward spoke matter-of-factly and we both chuckled. But we could laugh about these things because we both knew we had no intention of stealing from a park fountain. This water is disgusting, who knows what people throw in here.

“How many birds do you think shitted in here?” Edward randomly blurted out and I took back what I said about enjoying the impulsive questions. I just sighed like a disappointed parent, mostly because I didn’t want to answer that ridiculous question.

“And, that’s my que to get out.” I say suddenly standing up, dragging out the first word in my sentence. The water drips off my frame as I stand. Edward follows and we step out of the fountain. Edward grabs my hand and I let him have it, a calmness overtakes me when he intertwines our fingers. I look over to Edward and we just stand there, under the night sky with too much light pollution to see the shining stars, staring into eachothers eyes, like it was intoxicating. It was a trance, for as long as he stared at me I’d stare at him, adore everything about him, which was new for me. None of these feelings felt familiar, they’re all strange and confusing, they make my head reel. My heart only thumps heavily when I’m frightened but I don’t feel scared, quite the opposite. Why does it feel like there's a pulse throughout my body from where our hands meet? Why does it feel like I’m feverish and my veins will explode from under my skin. He just looks back at me with those beautiful jade eyes, no amount of money in the world would be enough for those beautiful eyes. Though I’d pay anything to keep them looking at me. And I lean in, he doesn’t back up so I take that as a sign to continue, and gently, oh so gently, I press my lips to his. Too pure of a kiss for either of the men sharing it, it was out of place but also welcomed. Edward wraps his arms around my neck and presses into it and I could feel my heart stutter. I wonder if he could feel my pounding heart against his chest, perhaps I felt his. My hand softly runs through his wet hair, and when we part we both desperately gasp for air. But before I fully recover Edward goes back and I let him, because I was just as needy. My eyes were glossy, I was overwhelmed by so much good emotion, I had never felt this much at the same time before. I gripped onto Edward like he was my life force, a silent plea to never leave. I'm not a religious man but I would fall to my knees to beg God to let me keep this, this one good thing. Let this be real, it’s all that I ask. And yet that thought makes me feel the presence of my grandmother beside me, cackling like the old hag she was.

Me and Edward parted for good this time and he pressed himself into my chest and arms wrapped around me, a one sided embrace. I let him cling to me because he had a faraway look in his eyes, I was scared to disturb him.

“I can’t believe I just did that..” Edward mutters in astonishment and a cold chill runs through me, had he regretted it? Did I do something wrong? Edward then looks at me with glossy eyes full of emotion.

“I mean me, kissing a ghost? That’s crazy..” he just chuckled but it sounded so sad. His words made no sense to me, I’ve met people in unstable states who mumble nonsense but this wasn’t one of those situations. I pull up my arms to grip his shoulders and hold him there, as well as grounding myself.

“What are you blabbering about?” I furrowed my brows and kept a serious expression. He looked at me in awe, it was actually starting to freak me out.

“Do—do you know you’re, well uh..” Edward lowered his gaze to the ground and his voice was soft and trailed off, it was so uncharacteristic of him I could feel my thoughts spin and twist at astonishing speeds. They just kept continuing to get tangled in a knotty mess.

“Are you implying I’m deceased?” I scoff in a mocking tone, my brain stopped working at all, it was utterly useless.

“Kübler-Ross’s “Five Stages of Grief”, first stage ‘denial’—“ Edward begins but I harshly shake him to get him to shut up. He was crazy, I’m not dead. I’m literally here, breathing and standing.

“Shut up Nygma, no funny games. This isn’t funny.” I growled with fear hidden behind it, my finger dug into his shoulders and he winced. Edward quickly grew defensive.

“I’m not lying! Have you even interacted with anyone today?” He spat back and I arched my eyebrows in surprise.

“Yeah I spoke to Query and Echo—“ I said with a snarl and he was quick to jump over my words

“Yeah, ghosts can communicate through phones. But they didn’t even see you out in the front of the haunted house! Did you not see that they were looking through you?” Edward was yelling and I wasn’t sure who was becoming hysterical first. Or why he even was.

“I spoke to Jervis!” I snapped and Edward brought his hands up to twirl them in his hair, fiddling with individual strands.

“Jervis is dead Jonathan! He drank his own poisoned tea in a manic state decades ago!” Edward had a distressed expression and he plucked auburn strands before going back to fiddle with another one, “It’s why I don’t visit him, Jonathan! I’m scared of ghosts!” He shouted and his voice sounded pained. For a moment I worried all of Gotham could have heard him, but no, it was just me and him. I can’t help but stare at the man in shock, unable to comprehend what is truly happening.

“I'm speaking to you.” I softly said, it was my only reach. Victor and Garfield, there was no possible way a human could be alive and look like that. And I hadn’t thought about it since I’m used to people ignoring me, I’m used to being invisible in the crowd. How could I have not noticed, it doesn’t seem real.

“I see ghosts, I have been since I was a kid. I used to get bullied a lot for it, my father beat me because I’d say that mom was right there, standing in the hallway. And he’d say, no, she’s twenty six miles away, buried in Crown Hill Memorial Park Cemetery, but as a kid you don’t understand because dad, mom is right here, why don’t you understand? The kid who sees ghosts is a freak, okay? I was terrified of ghosts my entire life, I mean my first day in kindergarten I had met a woman who had been hung there 300 years ago, I never wanted to go back to school but my father wouldn’t let that slide. When you grow up you get more used to it but it doesn’t get rid of the childhood trauma I’ve endured because of…this curse. I like the ghosts who don’t outwardly show their death, easier to look at I suppose.” Edward ranted, blurting out what came to mind as soon as it surfaced, trying his best to conceal his leaking eyes.

“You’ve known I was dead this entire time?” My voice is so quiet, I don’t think I could make it louder if I tried.

“Yeah, I’m good at picking up on that I guess.” He slouched his shoulders in defeat and I released him gently. My face was stoic, it was hard to have any comprehensive thoughts at the moment. I stare at his face tilted down, lukewarm tears streaming down his cheeks.

“You’re scared of ghosts..but you still wanted to help me?” I was confused, it didn’t make sense. He thought for a moment, actually choosing his words instead of blurting them out like a second ago.

“Yeah, I will always follow through on a deal.” He shrugged with a tense body.

“You’re not telling the full truth.” I accused and continued trying to meet his eyes as he refused to look up.

“…you..interested me, per say. And then you didn’t turn out to be a huge jackass and well, I enjoyed spending time with you. You gave me no reason to think you were a threat and so I didn’t. You wanted fear, right, well here you are, my actual raw fear. I thought I was getting better…” Edward was close to rambling again, trailing off on random rants in hopes of self soothing. I frowned and crossed my arms to hug myself tightly.I release a hand to cup his cheek and softly lift his face, wiping away a tear streak with my thumb while also softly caressing his face.

“The fear within the haunted house will suffice. I find I don’t actually want you to be afraid, so if you could seize your trembling, because I have no intentions of harming you. This is very confusing, I won’t lie that maybe I am in some denial but, do not fear me. That's all I ask.” I have a saddened expression as I speak and Edward, finally looks me in the eye and just stares. I’ve gone soft, I realize, if it were anyone else I’d thrive in this new found fear display, but it isn’t just anyone. Edward then hugs me again and this time I hug back, pulling him impossibly closer into me. One hand threads through his hair in a soothing motion as he stands motionless and stiff.

I’m dead. The realization finally hits me like a truck going past the speed limit on the highway. Except my airbag is this man, and I suffocated within his arms and not in pure whiteness. What’s next? What do you do once you're dead? I’m not exactly sure. Underneath my red cardigan and white polo shirt I can feel the gunshot, it has a dull throb. Part of me wonders if they ever caught Elliot, but this is Gotham we’re talking about. I began to question if anyone cared, did anyone cry when they heard the news, did anyone do as much as give a frown? Probably not, I didn’t know many people.

“Jonathan?” Edward mumbled but it was muffled by my chest. I just hummed into the top of his head.

“What bird do you associate with lifting weights and origami?” Edward asked and I had to be listening carefully to catch the entire muffled riddle. I just sighed, too tired to give an actual verbal response.

“A crane! I had thought of it the first time I met you, I was trying to find a good time to tell it to you.” He admitted and I smiled fondly. I squeeze him slightly, I refuse to ever let go, scared once I do he’ll disappear.

What do you do after death? I’m not sure. But I plan on sticking close with this insufferable man, if he’ll let me. I probably would have never met him if I didn’t die, which is a crazy thing to admit. I’m angry about the way I went but there's really nothing I can do about it now. I may be dead but this was officially the best Halloween I’ve had, it trumps all the ones down in Georgia in that cornfield. And to my Grandmother I give you the middle finger because I didn’t end up in hell, not yet at least. Was this some sort of limbo between life and death, I don’t know. There really isn't anything you can do in this situation except just keep moving forward, which is what I had been doing before death anyway. And maybe, just maybe, moving forward will be a little less painful hand-and-hand with Ed. I’m not usually optimistic so I’ll take anything I can get.

And right now I have him. That’s all I’ll ever need.