#riddler angst

“She has medical problems with her heart.”

Y/N was nauseous. Her heart thumped erratically in her chest and her head pounded as she opened her eyes. She couldn’t get a read on her surroundings as each shape and object in the room bled into the next. It registered that people were talking but she could only make out some of what they were saying. “You gave her what!? Oh Jesus Christ, you—” the words fuzzed out again as she struggled to gain her bearings,”--she might die before he even gets here.” Another man answered, but she was unable to understand it. She realized dully after a moment that she couldn’t move, her ankles were tied and her arms were restricted behind her back. She was seated against the wall of a large room, the bricks cold against her back.

She coughed and slumped down on the floor, drool running in rivulets out of her mouth. I’m gonna puke. “You alright, sweetheart?” A voice asked. She couldn’t bring herself to answer and just watched from the ground as a pair of clean, black leather shoes approached her. They stopped a foot away from her face, before the person wearing them crouched down. I’m gonna die here. “Come on.” The voice said, as hands grabbed her shoulders and propped her back up against the wall, “Up you go.” As her vision came back into focus, she looked at his face. Carmine Falcone. This is bad. Another voice from across the room asked, “Are you sure that this guy that’s coming is… safe? What if he tries something?” I’m gonna die here.  Falcone stopped inspecting her for a second to turn and answer, “I’m certain we’ll lose a few men, but it’s nothing we can’t handle.” 

“I’m sorry about all of this unpleasantness,” Falcone apologized, turning his attention back to her, “Here. Let’s get you out of these ropes, huh?” He said, slowly untying her restraints. “Get that circulation going a little better.” 

She just nodded dumbly at him, unable to move or talk. Waves of nausea ripped through her as her body shook. Even with her ankles untied, there was no way she could stand. She realized as he undid the ties on her arms, that she could barely move those either. 

I’m gonna die here. Another man approached Falcone, handing him a blanket, which he then laid on top of Y/N. “Lose a few men?” The man asked. “Well he is an emotionally unstable guy.” Falcone replied. She wondered if it would be better to just give up completely. She could just ask Falcone to kill her. Like most Gothamites, she knew how gangs operated and knew that Falcone had no intention of letting her leave alive. She took a deep heaving breath, but oxygen wasn’t making it to her lungs. Move. Get up. She tried, but her limbs had turned to stone. This useless body. Always letting me down. 

She was going to die here and her life hadn’t meant much of anything. She had spent years feeling like she was dead already. Life was something everyone else got to have, but not her. Her days were filled with pain and fatigue, spending days in bed, and being a burden for everyone else to worry about. That could be over if she just let it. A wave of nausea ripped through her then, causing her to empty the contents of her stomach onto the concrete floor. Shit. 

The group of men considered her for a moment, while Falcone snapped his fingers at them.

“Clean that up before he gets here.” 

He…? She wondered as one of the men came over with a rag. He gets here…Oh… She winced as she tried to focus her eyes, but the room kept spinning. Eddie… he means Eddie..

Edward. She wanted him to come— to be able to see him one last time before the end, but then he would die too. Falcone would kill him. Falcone must have figured it out…She cursed herself. She had known this was going to end badly from the beginning, but hadn’t put a stop to any of it. Too late now. She wasn’t going to try to run, she was far too weak for that anyway. Besides, what chance would she have against a mob boss and his goons? Her entire body ached. She laid down on the concrete, pulling the blanket under her head just to rest her eyes. It won’t be long now. Won’t be long at all until he kills me. Strangely, she felt relieved at that. There wasn’t much to miss in her life, she had been alone and at odds with the world these last couple of years. Well maybe not alone. Eddie had been there towards the end. But what had she done except worry him every day? He didn’t need to live his life caring for her. Thinking of his face caused her pain. 

I am not the bright and beautiful girl you say I am, Eddie. She didn’t want to continue being a millstone around his neck. 

In fact, he was probably going to die now because of her. Just another person caught in the black hole of her life. And still, she wanted to see him. Before Eddie, everything had been so lifeless. She had been living the same day every day, but then she ran into him that night. On that night, she had thought she was going to die, but for some reason she had chosen to live. She fought for her life by running away even when it felt like her lungs were gonna give out. And that choice she had made, the choice to stay alive, led her to Edward. Eddie opening the car door, the street lights reflecting off of his glasses. Eddie’s hands that had not touched her yet, but would, on the steering wheel. Before they had known each other. How her life had changed since then.  So are you gonna die here? A little voice inside of her asked. Or are you gonna get up?Is your life over? Are you gonna die here? Moments with Edward flitted through her mind. Curled up on the couch with him on a lazy weekend afternoon, Eddie reading to her in bed.  Getting food at the diner with him when she was feeling well enough to. Autumn walks through the park with their hands intertwined. That electric feeling at the estate sale when he had grabbed her hand for the first time, but not the last. 

Is your life over? Are you gonna die here?  Memories of kissing him, touching him. The long conversations they would have about anything. They were small things, maybe even silly things to most people, but to her it was a life. 

Is your life over?

She couldn’t go for a walk with him whenever she wanted. She couldn’t even be a person that got out of bed every day. She hated those things about herself. She wanted to be normal. But even though she wasn’t, her life had started to become enjoyable again despite it. It was the little things that made her heart rebel against the thought of not seeing him again. Are little things enough to make a life out of? 

Are you going to die here?

Isn’t that all anyone’s life is? A collection of moments big and small that you create meaning from? Get up. Falcone hadn’t left her tied up. The two other men had left. It was just her and him in the room. He had a gun at his side.  Get up. 

—————?————— Edward was outside of the iceberg lounge right on time.

He knocked on the large metal door covered in graffiti and stickers and it swung open. 

“Password?” A large man asked, having to yell over the sound of the deafening music coming from within the club.   Edward laughed, “I have a question for you, actually!”

The man behind the door wasn’t amused, “Just give me the password or stay outside.”

He looked Edward up and down, taking in the coat and mask, “Freak.” he added.

Edward, who could care less about his comments, continued, “Here’s the question!” he chirped, “Who stole my girlfriend and has a hole in their head?”

“Um–”

BANG. A gunshot rang out startling those in the back of the club, closest to the doors.

“YOU, silly!” Edward exclaimed as the doorman dropped dead on the ground. Patrons were yelling and scrambling away from the door. Not everyone in the club had seen or heard because the music was deafening. However, he knew that as those in the back continued to scream, panic, and push forward against the crowd to get away, it would become chaos. He was going to use that to his advantage.

He slipped in between waves of the crowd as he made it to the stairway at the side of the cavernous room. The music reverberated through his bones and the overwhelming rainbow lights washed over him continuously, but he didn’t care.

Looking up the stairs, he saw the elevator that would take him to where she was being held. In the back of his mind he noticed that the screams from the bottom floor were getting louder, as more people discovered the body. Taking up his attention currently was a gang member standing at the top of the stairs.

For a brief moment the two of them locked eyes before Edward reached into his coat pocket. 

BANG Reaching the top of the stairs, Edward stepped over his body as more people fled.

Elevator. People were pushing past him now, as he made his way up the stairs. As he reached the top of the landing he focused on the elevator doors only a few steps away. As he approached, the doors slid open with three more men waiting inside.

BANG BANG BANG

As he stepped inside the elevator he noticed with irritation that the doors wouldn’t close fully. With a sigh, he kicked the offending body out of the way, letting the other two bodies ride the elevator with him. He was almost to where she was.

He reloaded his gun as he traveled up to the top floor, muttering to himself, “The man who invented it doesn’t want it for himself, The man who bought it doesn’t need it for himself, The man who needs it, doesn’t know it when he needs it, what am I?”

He held his gun at the doors, ready to kill anyone who was standing there, and sure enough, two more men were there, but he was ready.

Stepping over their bodies a few moments later, he giggled, “The answer is a COFFIN!” he exclaimed, kicking one of them, “COME ON, the answer is so EASY!” he laughed as he advanced down the hallway.

BANGHe stiffened at the sound of a gunshot from the room at the end of the hallway.

No. I’m not too late, I’m–He ran down the hallway, bursting through the doors, gun ready and–

“Eddie…?”

He was greeted by her shaky voice, and there she was. In one piece. She was holding a gun with both hands, her entire body shaking.

A quick internet reverse search brought up your digital profile. Ed was quick to dissect it. He wanted to throw up when he found out you were the daughter of Kellan L/N, third child of his. He didn’t know he had any other children than his sons. They were a bit older than you anyways. Edward had a small dislike for the L/N sons, your older brothers. He’s found douchey photos online of them partying on yachts with other women and expensive alcohol. How would their wives feel about that? All funded by their dad. He definitely also engaged in these activities. Pictures dating back thirty/forty years depicted your father cheating on your mother. 

Slamming his computer shut, he pulled out his phone. His notepad sat next to him as he scrolled through your instagram. 

24.9k followers. Impressive. 

Edward scrolled through your photos. He figured out your best friend was named Hazel. She was the daughter of a senator from another city. Not his problem, other places corruption. You had been friends with Hazel since about ninth grade, when you started posting on Instagram. 

You didn’t have many recent posts with your brothers. The age gap in the family must have simmered your relationships once you got older. You last posted a picture of you and one of your brothers in 2018 for a birthday post. He found old birthday posts of yours. The last one was around a year ago, you were due to turn twenty three about next week. He scoffed as he looked at the pictures from your birthday last year. Cabo trip, all funded by daddy. You were probably on a plane to go somewhere exotic for your next birthday already, he thought. 

What angered him the most was the party photos. You seemed to be close with Bruce Wayne. One of the men he hated the most. Bruce had no online presence minus the photos you would occasionally post of him. How has he never seen this before? 

Party in upstate with Bruce. 

Bruce Wayne at a party?

Picnic with Bruce. 

No way Bruce Wayne actually went on a picnic. Staged. 

Bruce’s banister is so beautiful, I couldn’t help myself. I needed a pic or two. 

She’s at his manor? 

Jealously filled Edward. Of course Bruce Wayne got the most perfect girl. He had everything he didn’t. 

He angrily flicked through the comments and was relieved when he saw the constant denial of a relationship between you two.

@hzljohnson so when is the wedding?

@y/nl/n in your dreams

Even her best friend wanted this to happen. 

-

@gthmnews13 Is this an official relationship confirming post? The fans are going crazy!

@y/nl/n Me and Bruce are only friends. 

An official news source? Can’t they leave her alone? 

Edward threw his phone to the floor. He was sick at looking at your picture perfect life. 

He knew something deeper was going on. 

On some of the sub chains he had been on recently, there was unrest. Something was about to be exclusively leaked about politicians in Gotham. Sure, everyone says that all the time. But Edward had a feeling this was big. It was a file that supposedly held career/life damaging documents for people, going all the way up to potentially the mayor. Edward giddied to himself, laying back on his couch and looking at the newspaper clippings he had pasted on his ceilings. The feeling of excitement rose. This next few weeks were going to be great. 

***

Your father knew. The pictures she threatened to leak would come out eventually. It was just a matter of when. He was smitten when he met her at the Iceberg Lounge. She was just a little older than his own daughter. He, and many other politicians, only knew her as Kat. He figured she just wanted a taste of the expensive life, and this was the only way she knew how. She certainly had the facilities to be in her position. Kat began almost exclusively spending her time with him. He payed the best. After a few months of this, she demanded a large sum of money. When he denied it, she dropped the bombshell. She was pregnant. 

Your father was almost certain the child wasn’t his, and brushed her off. He offered to pay for her abortion, but this just made her angrier. It wasn’t until she came back with a subpoenaed paternity test is when he knew she told. Told who, he wasn’t sure. A lawyer, judge, who knows. 

And it came back that he was in fact the father of her unborn child. 

He shut out Kat, getting her banished from the Lounge. Denying her any more money, she promised to leak the photos of them together. Pictures at the lounge, at dinner, in bed, the paternity test. Everything she had documented throughout their affair. 

Your father promised then to make small payments for her and the child, but she was more interested in the pay from the newspaper’s that they would give for these pictures. 

That was four months ago. No word from Kat, no news from the media. 

He sat in his office thinking about the past events when you burst through the doors. “Y/N!” he announced, standing up to give you a hug. “Hi dad,” you smiled, sitting across from him. “What is the reason for the visit? How is the apartment treating you?” he asked, cracking his knuckles. “It’s nice. It’s all really nice,” you said. “I was wondering if I could borrow some money for my birthday.” 

You always said borrow to make yourself feel better. You never payed him back. But what was he for then? A dad who never payed much attention in your life. He had to compensate that somehow. 

“Where is it this year? London?” he asked. “I-I was thinking something more lowkey. A night out in Gotham.”

Your father sighed. “I don’t think that would be such a good idea.” 

“Why?” you asked, crossing your arms. “With all these Riddler attacks…” “Dad, trust me. I can handle myself.” you scoffed. “Y/N, sweetheart. He is strapping bombs to people. People who I worked closely with.” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Yeah, people you work with. I don’t work with you.” you said, pursed lips. 

A moment of silence lingered between you two.

“I guess,” he sighed. You squealed and hugged him, thanking him. “I’ll wire you the cash!” he yelled after you as you were leaving his office. 

***

Edward sat at the counter, doodling away at his drawing. He was copying the cheap print on the diner wall, adding his own details. Making it more his style. He was too interested in his artwork and his coffee to notice you walk in. 

You would have never usually chose this spot. The nearest Starbucks was closed for the night, and you were craving caffeine. You had to write a speech for the Animal Shelter you had been volunteering for. You donated a large sum of money to the place. And tonight was the night you were going to write your speech.

“Can I have a large black coffee?” you asked the waitress. “That all?” she asked. “Um, a slice of pumpkin pie too.” 

Edward perked up and looked over, realizing this stranger had just ordered his exact order. 

And the stranger was you. 

His heart skipped a beat. He set down his coffee a little too hard, causing a bit to spill on his artwork. You looked over at him.

Edward swore to himself internally, knowing he completely fucked up. 

He looked back up at you, and you gave him a slight smile. You looked down at the picture he was drawing, now covered in droplets of coffee. 

“S-same order I get,” he managed to spit out. An explanation. “Is it any good?” you asked him, leaning your hip against the counter waiting for your order. “Is what?” he asked, intimidated by your beautiful presence. “The food?” you smirked, cocking your head. “O-oh, yeah. It’s great here.” he said, letting out a small smile. The waitress set your food down on the counter space next to him. 

You never usually spoke to strangers like this, but this man seemed kind. You were in a need for good company anyways. Everyone around you always seemed fake. Hazel, your brothers, your father, Bruce. All monetary based relationships. You craved something natural. Something real. 

You took the first bite of pie and shook your head. “This is amazing,” you said astonished. “Best pie in all of Gotham,” Edward said. “You, sir, might be right about that.” you smiled, wiping the corner of your mouth with the napkin. 

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself. “Edward,” 

Ed never was this social. The last time he spoke to anyone in this depth was a co worker, probably years ago. It just broke his heart watching you, so perfect, about to be ruined by the corruptness of Gotham. Just another victim to the dirtiness of the city. 

The two of you went on conversing until closing time. You asked him about his drawing, if he did other drawings, what he was interested in. When you tried to solve some of his riddles, his heart fluttered. You liked the innocence in him. He didn’t know who you were (at least to your knowledge) and treated you like a normal person. It was hard to explain to him and still seem normal what you did with your life. Edward admired that you volunteered for a living. Giving to others who had none. If he would have had someone like you in the orphanage, his life would have gone a lot better. He just knew it.

When you two separated at the end of the night, you never expected to see him ever again. You cursed yourself on the subway home that you should have gotten his number. He was so innocently adorable, someone wholesome. You needed that in your life. Hazel would ridicule you for your ‘poor choice in a man’. Your brothers would bully the shit out of him at family functions. But you didn’t care. He was real. 

Edward knew he would see you again. He would make sure of it. You were the one thing in Gotham that wasn’t bad. You sparkled in a city of grime. 

He thanked whatever god was looking down on him. He was granted the experience of meeting you, out of the thousands of people in Gotham. You. 

***

Edward tracked your almost every move. He sat in his discreet car across the street of your apartment. He found the new purchase documents online. He had to unscript some of the documents, but found your address easily. He would see you get chauffeured to your volunteer sites. This week you went to the animal shelter, along with a homeless shelter. He admired that about you. You would get home at around four/five pm, which gave you time to get ready for the night activity. Every night you would either have friends over, leave to go to the diner (which you secretly did in hopes of seeing Edward again. He didn’t know this was the reason.), have dinner with your mother, or have a night in for yourself. Lights out at about ten, and you would wake up at seven. Your whole routine down to a point. 

He would stand in the corner of a store on the street. He knew you walked this way everyday to reach the volunteer center. And today, the same god smiled down at him because he was given this bit of information. 

“Hazel, the Fort Adolphus venue is fine. Yes. It’ll be fun, I promise. Yeah, I think seven is a good time…”

Edward froze when he heard this. Your birthday, he assumed. It was two days away. And Fort Adolphus was one of the most prestigious venues in Gotham. Only a senator would be lucky enough to book it. And give it to his daughter to use for her birthday party. 

***

Edward arrived at the venue at four pm. He quickly seeked out one of the party coordinators. Distracting him, he took him into a back closet and tazed him. Stole his clothes, and locked him in. He would be out for a few hours, the taser was powerful. 

And with that, he did what he did best. Blend in. 

You arrived at 6:30. You wore a black minidress, with a sheer torso. You had gold chains as straps. The fabric was bunched up to give a ripple affect. Your hair was curled, and makeup was on perfectly. Edward noticed you when he heard your black heels click on the marble floors. You looked like a goddess. 

“Welcome to the Fort Adolphus venue Miss L/N, let me find a coordinator to help you get settled,” the woman at the door said. She noticed Edward standing around and doing nothing and called for him.

He had just made fate happen. 

“You! Sir!” she called out to Edward. That is when your eyes met again. Your eyes lit up, giving him a smile. “Ed?” you asked, joining his presence. “Funny seeing you,” he chuckled, pushing his clipboard against his waist. “He can escort you to your private back room.” the woman at the door said. “Right,” Edward confirmed, playing along with his role. 

“I didn’t know you were a party coordinator,” you said, watching your team pile out of your car. Hair, makeup, wardrobe on standby. “I’m not,” he said, realizing he made a mistake. “Uh, one night only. Temporary gig,” he managed to get out before raising suspicion. The two of you got to a room labeled ‘Back Room A’. He hoped it was the one for you, and to his luck it was. Gifts laid across a wide table in the middle of the room. Expensive alcohol and food was on the opposite wall. A large couch and a vanity also sat in the room. “There you are,” he said awkwardly, opening the door. “Will I see you tonight?” you asked him as he was about to shut the door. “Um…” Edward thought. “No, I’m only pre-party crew.” he lied. Definitely wasn’t going to stick around. He wasn’t a party person anyways.

He was expecting you to close the door after that, but you didn’t. You got out your phone. “I meant to do this at the diner, but do you have a phone number? Well, of course you have a phone number, I’m just asking if-” “Yeah sure, um…” he said, interrupting you. 

Y/N L/N just asked for his phone number. Oh my god. And she was nervous about it!

After you exchanged them, he began to slowly close your door to give you some privacy. You grabbed his hand on the door knob, and looked directly in his eyes. 

“Ed?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Y-your welcome. May I ask for what?” he stuttered. 

“Being real.”

Part 2

-

Chapter 12- To My Mistakes Of Cowardice

Edward banged on Y/N’s door, calling out her name. 

His panic grew when there was no answer. Pressing his ear to the door he heard muffled television sounds. 

Please, PLEASE just be sleeping, please just be sleeping. 

Edward’s hands felt clammy and he couldn’t get a full breath in, like his throat was closing up. He was about to kick the door down but realized that might alarm the other residents of the building. 

He ran outside, circling the building.

Windows, windows. 

He couldn’t even see inside. All the shades were drawn. Running his hands along the weathered bottom of the frames he tried to lift each one, but they were locked. Break the window? He looked around for something to break the window with, but then spotted her bathroom window, slightly ajar. He hoisted the frame up, shoving the interior screen forcefully. It popped from the frame into the apartment. Edward clambered over the windowsill, falling into the apartment with a painful thud. He picked himself up, ignoring the discomfort. The bathroom smelled like sickness and vomit. It was in complete disarray. “Y/N?” Edward shouted, still no response. Her apartment is freezing, he realized, seeing his breath. The living room had dirty clothes on the floor, and some dishes with food on the table. The TV was on, broadcasting the news. Edward glanced at it and saw The Riddler reflected back at him. There he was on the screen, talking about how he would kill again and again until changes were made in Gotham. 

He grimaced. She’s been watching this? It made his heart ache to think that Y/N had been keeping track of his exploits this whole time. Did it scare her? He turned away, disgusted with himself. He hurried down the dark hallway, calling her name, slamming the door to her bedroom open. There. Edward could breathe again. Y/N was there in her bed, wrapped up in sheets and— Oh. He felt a stab in his heart when he recognized his jacket held so tightly in her arms. He rushed to her side, “Y/N?” Edward tentatively reached out, resting his hand lightly on her arm. She was burning up, he realized as his heart dropped into his stomach.  She was covered in sweat, dark purple shadows under her eyes. Her eyes were puffy and red as well, and he could tell she had been crying. Because of me.  He gritted his teeth, remorse consuming him. Your bulllshit isn’t important right now, he reminded himself. She needed her meds. 

“Shit!” he ran back out into the hallway, remembering he had left the bag outside her front door. Unlocking the door, he opened it, very relieved to see that it was still there. He pulled it inside and ran back into her room with it, digging through it furiously. He pulled out some pain meds that would help bring her fever down and her daily medications that she needed to be taking. 

If these don’t help I will take her to the hospital—Wait she needs water too, he scrambled back into the kitchen. Most of the dishes were dirty, so he opened all the cupboards until he found a clean glass, filling it with water. Grabbing her pills in one hand, and the water in the other, he set them on the nightstand, slowly scooting into bed with her. He grimaced when he realized her blankets and sheets were soaked through with sweat. Reaching one arm under her, he lifted her body, propping her up carefully against his chest. Her eyelids fluttered open at that, and she glanced up at him, her gaze hazy with fever. He could tell that she wasn’t really seeing him, but still he felt relief flood through his body just seeing her open her eyes. “Hi..” he spoke gently, “I need you to take this okay?,” he wanted to sound calm and reassuring but his voice came out strangled. Y/N seemed to have some understanding though, and she let him place the pills in her mouth. 

“Here you go,” Edward spoke, lifting the water to her mouth. He watched her carefully as she drank, making sure she got most of it down before he removed it from her lips. After setting the glass down he realized her eyes were closed again, and she was sleeping once more.  Edward shifted out from under her cautiously, trying not to disturb her. I need to find a way to bring her fever down. She turned over on the bed, making a soft noise as she clutched his jacket to her face. Edward was filled with self-loathing. He could hardly stand to look at her.  He didn’t deserve to. He had always thought that Arkham would be hell, but no, it was here. Edward left the room. He needed to find a thermometer to keep track of her temperature. —---------------------------------------------------------------------- Y/N stirred, her mind fuzzy. She had a dream that someone had been there, helping her take medicine. Another where someone had held an ice pack to her body. Her heart was pounding, and the pain in her temples was excruciating, she flipped over on the bed trying to get comfortable again.

At some point Eddie had been there too, sitting by her bedside. She remembered that he looked terrified about something. 

It was confusing. She closed her eyes again. —----------------------------------------------------------------------- Edward had been cleaning for a long time. He had washed her sheets first, quietly picking up the dirty ones that had been kicked off the bed and onto the ground while she slept. Next was the bathroom. He organized it and then deep cleaned, scrubbing every surface. After, he picked up the living room until it was spotless.  While he was cleaning the living room he had found her sketchbook. He had flipped it open, curiosity getting the better of him. He flipped through, seeing sketches of still lifes, flowers, and doodles of strangers. Y/N was so talented. He flipped another page and was confronted with many, many drawings of him. Drawings of him in a cartoon-like style, detailed drawings of his side profile, doodles of outfits he had worn. Little drawings of the two of them together, which he loved.  Lots of drawings of his face, many with little hearts around them, he noticed, his face growing warm. On some of the pages there was “Y/N Nashton '' written several times, which made his hands shake and his heart race. She had drawn all of this so lovingly, he thought, his stomach churning. How could he have thought that she didn’t love him? He traced over the drawings of them together with his fingers, before closing the sketchbook and putting it away.  

Now he was working on cleaning the kitchen. His brows were furrowed as he focused intensely on washing a cup. He wasn’t sure what good all of this was doing, he just knew that it felt like a solution to something. Bringing order to things. It stopped him from going into the bedroom every 5 minutes to check on Y/N, at least. She is very sick. He scrubbed the cup harder, the sponge chafing his hands. He had a process. He washed each dish several times. She’s sleeping with my jacket. He would rinse it. I screamed at her. Then he would dry it and put it away. I left her for a week. Then he would start on the next dish. 

He held the cup up, inspecting it. It was spotless but he started scrubbing it again just for good measure. His mind had been a mess with a number of anxious thoughts about Y/N. About her condition, about the things he had said. It made him feel helpless that he couldn’t do anything other than let her sleep and change out her ice packs after he gave her her meds, and hope she would be okay. As he cleaned, he went over the events of Halloween night again and again. Images of Y/N flinching at his touch floated in his mind along with flashes of her crying and pleading with him. He thought about how he had found her: extremely sick and clutching his jacket, as if it was a lifeline. She had missed him, even after everything he had done. Hands shaking, he dried the cup and put it away. He rested his hands on the edge of the counter, staring down at the floor. He had told her that she was only good for a—Oh, how did he so charmingly put it? A mediocre fuck. Letting out a loud sigh, Edward paced in front of the sink before stopping and sinking to the kitchen floor, his back against the cabinets. Why did I fucking say that? He had been at odds with the rest of the world, pretty much his whole life. He had never gotten along with others, even when he tried to, and eventually he did stop trying. When people pissed him off, or hurt him, which as a child was often, it was so easy to hurt them back. His strengths weren’t physical, he knew that, but he was smart. He had carefully crafted his own way of hurting others throughout the years. It had always been so easy for him to target their insecurities with pinpoint accuracy, to lash out immediately in retaliation. But he had never meant to do it to Y/N.

Edward held his head in his hands, tugging at his hair a bit in frustration. If he could go back in time, and not say any of those things, he would do it in an instant. But that wasn’t possible, so he had to figure out how he could possibly even start to make this up to her.

He just needed to be doing something. So this is what he was doing. Cleaning every single thing in her apartment until his hands hurt, and then cleaning some more. 

It still angered him. Even though he felt perverted when he admitted it, he wanted to be with you. The softness of your hand the other night drove him crazy. 

He kept his phone on a constant charge, with the ringer set up to the highest setting. 

It was a Tuesday afternoon when he heard his phone go off. Edward was busy making a plan for his next contraption. He leaped out of his chair, knocking his glasses off his nose. He quickly scrambled over to the phone, but was disappointed to find out it wasn’t you. 

He only had his phone set for two notifications though. You and…

Oh, sweet sweet revenge. The files have dropped.

He sprinted to his computer, struggling to put his password in. Once he entered for forum, he squealed in delight from all of the information. Senators, Representatives, and oh, the Mayor? He was in bliss. All the worst of the worst and their faults. 

He searched through them, searching for the last name L/N. And that is what he found. 

Kellan L/N’s Folder.

Pay offs, deals with mafia leaders, all the boring common things he didn’t find as interesting. Well, he did find them interesting. He just knew there was more. There had to be. 

He clicked on the file called ‘Kat Calls’. Ed laughed at the clever play of words. Recordings of phone calls with a mysterious women containing explicit material. Better, but Ed knew there had to be more. He scrolled more down in the file, finding the gold. 

The women going by ‘Kat’ released the affair documents. Car paperwork signed by L/N, given to Kat. Videos of them being intimate. Photos of them together at a club. Pregnancy photos- wait what. Pregnancy photos?

Edward’s eyes almost popped out of his head. From his Riddler standpoint, he would be overjoyed. But from his standpoint, he knew you would be devastated. 

Seeing your close relationship with your mother, he figured you would be broken finding out about this. 

Edward clicked more files, releasing the subpoena of the paternity test, the text messages between Kat and Kellan, and pregnancy month updates of her bump. Kellan L/N’s new child. 

He slammed his computer shut, yelling in frustration. He then opened it again, going on his livestream. He needed to get some of this off his chest in a safe way. 

It wasn’t until that night when you texted him. You seemed distressed.

Unknown Number: is this Edward?

He jumped up and grabbed his phone. 

Edward: Yes, who is this?

Playing dumb. Good call.

Y/N: Y/N, we met at the diner?

Edward: Oh, yes! How are you?

Y/N: Can I come over? To talk. I need some realness in my life right now

Edward was shocked at your boldness. He figured some things about her father were leaked to the news. He had ignored the news stations all day, he had been scrolling through the other politician’s faults and didn’t want to hear the sugarcoated bullshit that was leaked to the press just yet. 

Edward: That would be okay. Do you need an address?

This was the night it would all go down. 

When you arrived, you were in emotional distress. You tried to hide it, but he could notice it. 

Edward had made sure to close off his Riddler room and lock it. He also hid away any other evidence he had laying around. It was his routine if the cops ever came looking for him. Easy practice. 

You were a bit disgusted by his apartment building. It wasn’t a great one. The foundation was cracking. His neighbors were, questionable. Mostly dropheads and drop dealers. Only few such as Edward were just genuinely poor and couldn’t afford (or be bothered) to move anywhere else

The apartment building didn’t have an elevator. Ed lived on the fifth floor. A rat ran across your shoes on the way up. You wanted more than anything to get this man out of this building. But that would be overstepping, right?

“Are you alright?” Edward asked, taking your coat. You sighed, trying to keep your tears in. You gave a slight ‘mhm’ and sat on his couch. 

“Would you like something to drink?” he offered. You knew he was trying to be comforting and you felt bad refusing his kindness. 

You stared at your knees, trying to keep the tears in. You felt like you could burst at any sudden time. 

Edward crouched down in front of you. He placed a hand on yours, attempting to make some eye contact. He saw the tears forming in your eyes. 

“Hey hey hey,” he said, reaching into your falling embrace as you began to cry. He held you tight, cradling a hand behind your head. His thumb rubbed the side of your head, comfortably stroking your hair. Ed was trying. “I-I-I can’t b-believe him!” you sobbed, shaking back and forth. 

Edward moved back. He moved your fallen hair behind your ears, and wiped a bit of mascara off your cheek. “What happened?” he asked, pushing up his glasses on his nose. 

Play dumb. 

“M-my father. He did some bad things.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it-” “Didn’t you see it on the news?” 

Play dumb.

Edward gave you a confused look and slowly shook his head. “I don’t know what your talking about,” he whispered. 

“My father is Kellan L/N,” you spat out. “Oh,” he responded, trying to make his reaction genuine. 

“I-I was told by Br-, a friend, that he has done some bad things.” you sobbed. His heart sank when he knew Bruce told you. Of course he knew. He was the Prince of the city. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, placing both hands on your knees. “Is there anything I can do?” Edward asked, looking up with kind eyes. You managed a small smile. “Your perfect,” you managed to say, not crying. Edward smiled back a slight smile.

He found blankets in his storage chest and placed them around you. Your anxiety had made you start to shake. He noticed the signs after living through them and witnessing them at the orphanage so many years ago. He sat there quietly, holding you at your request on his couch. Your breathe had just stopped shuttering when your phone rang. 

“Shit,” you muttered, staring at the screen. A picture of your oldest brother lit up on the phone. Edward sat silent as you picked up. 

“Yeah I fucking heard!” you screamed. Edward was taken aback at the sudden anger. “Bruce! Yeah, Bruce told me! John, just- no! You shut up! Are you with mom? Why does it matter where I am? I’m safe, I’m with a friend. What about mom? Y-your kidding me she’s on a fucking bender? Again?”

The tears began flowing once again. Your hand began to shake, and you dropped your phone on the couch. You bent over again onto Edward’s lap, sobbing. Edward could hear your brother yelling from the small speaker. He reached over and hung up your phone. He shushed you, not really sure of what to do. A beautiful woman was crying a little too close to his crotch. 

He tried to distract you. Telling you stories of his past life, some more of the positive ones. The time when a dog wandered into the orphanage and everyone collectively kept it as a pet. He left out the part where it was eventually taken by animal control, killing the rest of the children’s spirit that wasn’t already gone. When he tried ice cream for the first time at eleven. Christmastime and the small gifts he used to get. His college scholarship, his way out of his old life. You listened, trying to imagine anything but the horrors of your current life. Once you were asleep, he left you. 

You were so peaceful when you slept. Your eyes would so often flutter, he figured you were dreaming. Watching your breathe slowly move up and down. Your hand hanging off his couch with your perfect manicure. The tiny snores every once and a while. 

Eventually he found himself asleep on his chair, curled up. Six am, his alarm went off.

Unfazed by the exasperating noise screeching from his bedroom, you still slept. It was a Wednesday morning. Edward had to go to work. He got up and actually showered. He never showered in the morning, but he didn’t get the chance too last night. He hoped the noise of the creaky shower would wake you up. Not a chance. He observed you were a heavy sleeper. Something he could never have mastered himself, growing up in a constant state of fear. 

Work clothes. Button down shirt, khaki pants, dress shoes. Edward combed his hair flat like usual. Cleaned off his glasses, grabbed his work case and his wallet. Still, you slept. He sighed, hating to be the one who had to do this. He walked over to you and slightly tapped you on your shoulder. Nothing. 

“Hellooo?” he whispered. You snorted a tiny bit, moving over on the couch. “Y/N?” he asked, shaking your shoulder. You shot up on the couch, nearly missing his head. “Scared the shit out of me Ed!” you scolded him. Taken back by your tone, he apologized profusely. “I-I didn’t mean to I just had to go to work and-” 

“Shit,” you muttered, grabbing his flailing hands. “I’m really sorry sometimes I can be a lot in the morning,” you said sweetly, calming his hands into a stop in yours. “It’s okay,” you said. Edward swallowed hard. “I-I have to go to work.” he whimpered, checking his watch. His big doe eyes looked regretful. “Your welcome to stay- if you would like. Just please lock the door behind you if you leave. I can’t stress that enough, so many people here are just-” “I really should be going,” you cut off his rambling. “Are you sure? Do you have anywhere safe to go?” he asked, grabbing his keys off a hook by his door. “No,” you half laughed, staring up at him with your hand on your head. “Do you have any ibuprofen? My head is killing me,” you yawned. “Y-yeah, let me just-”

He opened his kitchen cabinet, swiping the rat poison to the back as he grabbed the container of relief pills from the back. Handing you a water bottle and the pills, he was itching to leave. He wanted to stay but he was already late. So late that when he left, he forgot to mention the most important thing. 

Don’t go in the back room. 

***

When you were fully awake, you noticed how dirty his apartment was. Dishes undone, dusty window ledges, dirt spots on the floor. You searched his kitchen for some type of cleaning supplies and was surprised to find some. They looked dated and like they could have been from ten years ago, but it worked. You cleaned and cleaned the whole day, trying to make the place the cleanest its been in years. Once you were finished with the kitchen and living room you were filthy. 

Your shirt was covered in cleaning supplies and grime. You contemplated going home and changing, but you knew one of your brothers or a representative for the family or even worse, reporters would be waiting for you. 

Ed had to have a shirt you could borrow, right? He is such a kind man, he wouldn’t be angry if you borrowed one for the time being while yours was washing, right?

The door handle to Edward’s bedroom was stiff, but the second you put force on the old door it creaked open. His bedroom was normal. The sheets were a bit disheveled and there was a pile of dirty clothes in the corner, but that was normal. The floor creaked as you walked over to his closet. With a little push, the old panels creaked open similar to his door.

And that was when you found it. 

The seemingly secret room crammed into his closet. The wall was backed out into another space, maybe an empty apartment next door. It stopped at a certain length, but the room was spacious. 

You first noticed the wall. Newspaper clippings, tabloid pictures of Batman, old election propaganda, pictures of politicians with their eyes crossed and cut out. Associates of your father’s, wait- your father?

You ran your hand over the newspaper clipping about his re-election three years ago. You could see yourself in the background of the picture. 

He knew.

You felt the adrenaline course through your body. You had to get the fuck out of there. You ran out of his closet, and attempted to get back to the kitchen when you tripped on his lamp cord. 

Thud, bump. Broken lightbulb on the floor. And to your luck, Edward was already home. 

“Y/N?” you heard him yell, rushing into his bedroom. Edward was panicking. You were in his bedroom. Didn’t he tell you- oh. 

How could I be so stupid? He cursed himself.

His bedroom door busted open, finding you on the floor next to a broken lamp. He looked up to see his closet door open. 

“Fuck,”

You jumped up from the floor and grabbed him, throwing him on the bed. For your size, he was surprised you were that strong. But you weren't as smart. 

His small figure made him able to slither out from below you and grab your waist, pinning you to the bed. You yelled for help. Edward could almost hear his heart breaking. He got on top of your writhing body, pinning your flailing hands above your head. 

“Stop. Stop fucking yelling!” he hissed at you, making you want to fight more. “Don’t make me do this, please Y/N. I don’t want to hurt you,”

He had no choice. You were almost out of his grips. If you were to escape, his scheme would be up. He grabbed his paperweight off of his nearby desk and decked you in the head with it. 

***

“Fuck! Please, please wake up!” Edward yelled, shaking your shoulders. He came into your view blurry, multiple visions of him swirling around the room. “Hey, hey!” he yelled, picking your slumped head up. 

“Wh-what did you do?” you slurred, trying to move your limbs. That is when you noticed you were tied to a chair. “Please don’t be mad,” he begged, sitting on his knees in front of you. You recognized the room you were in.

His Riddler lair. 

“Your him?” you asked, referring to the mask sitting on a nearby desk. He let out a sigh. “Your the one who has been killing all these people?” you yelled, regaining most of your consciousness now. 

“No, no Y/N. These are not people.” he laughed. “Corrupt, evil, malicious politicians. Poising Gotham with their greed.” 

You scoffed, turning your head away. That is when you noticed the dry blood on the side of your cheek. “You hit me?” you asked, looking up at him in disbelief. “I had to. I feel horrible. God, I could have killed myself over the sight,” he said manically, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“Look at the wall,” he said. You closed your eyes shut. “Look! Now!” 

He grabbed your throbbing head and forced it forward.

The wall was covered with the propaganda like you saw before. You noticed a section with pictures of Bruce. You recognized some pictures that were stolen off your instagram. Your father had a small section, along with pictures of your brothers.

“You knew who I was,” you said, choking up. “I did. But I didn’t seek you out. Fate brought us together Y/N.” Edward said.

“Fate isn’t real,” you yelled, sobbing. “Then why are you sitting here?” Edward yelled back. 

Your sobs made him upset. This was not how this was supposed to go. 

Edward brought you water. “Please, drink.” he begged, bringing the bottle up to your lip. You took it cautiously, being prepared to black out again. But that wasn’t the case. “I really don’t want to hurt you. Just- listen.” he said, flinching at the sight of your wound. 

He brought his desk chair in front of you along with a file. 

“What do you know of a woman named Kat?” 

You shook your head. “I don’t know anyone named Kat.” you sighed. You writhed in your restraints. “Can you make these looser?” you begged, tears mixing with the blood and sweat on your cheeks. Edward nodded, loosening the handcuffs just enough. 

“Why do you ask?” you asked suspiciously. He opened the file and waved a picture of a pregnant woman in front of your face. “Never seen her in my life,” 

He knew you weren’t lying. No, you were too perfect. You could never lie like your dirty father. 

“What do you know about your father?” he asked calmly. “He’s dirty. A bad politician. Taking business deals from the mafia, dealing with some dirty people. He’s a problem in this city. I always thought he was good. He always seemed good. He always was…” you trailed off. “It’s why I came here,” you sighed. Edward wiped a fallen tear off your face. “Your not bad, your not evil.” he assured you. “I hate seeing you cuffed.” he sighed, his eyes looking tired. 

He re-focused on the document.

“Your gonna be a big sister,” he chuckled, showing you pictures of your father with this woman. Kissing at a party, walking together holding hands. 

This is the big thing your brother wouldn’t tell you. 

You completely broke down crying, yelling. Edward hugged you as you cried into his shirt. 

“Please Ed, let me go. I won’t run, I promise.” you begged. His heart sank. “I have no where else to go. Everything- everything is gone.” you begged. He had to trust you. The key made a sharp noise unlocking the handcuffs. He cut the rope tying you to the chair. You fell forward into his arms. 

“I didn’t want you getting hurt even more. By the media. By your family. By Bruce Wayne.”

“What about Bruce?” you asked, sitting down on his bed. He sat next to you, tending to your wound. “You don’t think he knew all of this? About the woman? The affair? The baby?” 

Your heart sank. “He told me about the corruption there’s no way he could have-” “No, no my sweet Y/N. He knew before the media did. Every single person on the forum got this before the media did. He knew,”

Edward stroked your hair, trying to get the blood out of it. “You’ll need a shower,” he sighed, placing the paper towels next to him. He gave you a few towels and lead you to the bathroom. You were still a bit wobbly. He sat outside his bathroom, listening to make sure you didn’t fall. 

Good thing he was listening, because you did fall.

The shower seemed to temporarily wash away the problems that have occurred in the last few hours. How could Bruce not tell you? How could your father do this? Did your brother’s know? Your no longer the baby of the family. You were showering in the Riddler’s shower?

Your vision began to blur in this cycle of anxiety, and the blood loss didn’t help.

Edward cautiously opened the door, his glasses fogging up. “A-are you okay?” he asked, looking at the floor. “Fuck- uh,” you said, trying to get up. You kept slipping in the oddly shaped tub. It had to be over thirty years old. “Help,” you asked. “Are you sure?” he asked, cautiously moving closer to the curtain. He heard you scramble around, your limbs scraping against the wet tub. “It’s okay,” you assured him. He wiped his glasses and opened the shower, gluing his eyes shut. He outstretched his arms, feeling the warm shower water hit them. “Hold on,” he said, grabbing the side of your naked body and pulling you up into a more comfortable position. He shut off the water with one hand, and guided you out with the other. He caught a glimpse of you, his vision heading straight to his dick. 

He handed you the towel from the rack and started to leave. You grabbed his arm, looking him in the eyes. “Thank you,” you smiled, tying the towel around yourself. 

He was shocked you didn’t hate him. 

He gave you a small smile back, and tried to leave again. This time you pulled his arm in, moving him close to you. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, feeling the gap naturally close. 

You kissed him. For what? He saved you. You didn’t understand the logic. You should have been fighting to leave. He didn’t hurt you. He saved you from lots of hurting. He showed you the real lie that you had been living your whole life. He was your savior. And that is why you kissed the Riddler.

Silence sat between you two. You hated the tension. After you had kissed him, he couldn’t make eye contact with you. Did you read this all wrong? How could he be interested in you. He was older than you. Almost ten years, in fact. He was poorer than you. He hated the rich. He had every reason to kill you and hide you where nobody could find you. But he didn’t. 

You sat on his bed wearing one of his shirts and a pair of his sweatpants. He sat behind you, combing your hair for you as you stared at a crack on his wall.

“The kiss was nice,” he managed to squeak out. You smiled. “I was worried you didn’t like it,” “Would I be sitting here, braiding your hair and being with you if I didn’t?” he asked. “No, I guess not.” 

Silence again. 

“What are you going to do? With the information.” you asked him. “Whatever you want me to do.” he said, finishing the braid. He moved up and laid beside you. You sat and thought for a moment.

“Release it.” you sighed. 

Edward furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought you would want me to burn it,” he asked. “No. Fuck him. Fuck that whole family of mine.” you sighed, laying down now and facing him. He loved when you said that. He could feel the same rage in you as he felt in himself. Your wet hair dripped on his pillow. “We can leave, get out of the city. We have a nice place upstate it can be…”

But you forgot.

He’s the Riddler. The Riddler who has been killing. Number one enemy of the Gotham police at the moment. 

“I’m satisfied,” Edward said. “With what?” you asked. “I’ll leak it. All. Then I’m done. My work here is done.” he smiled. “You’ll give it up?” you asked him, meeting his doe eyes once again. He nodded his head and placed his lips to your forehead. “I’m done. Anything for you.”

“You are the only real person I’ve ever known, Edward Nashton.” you smiled, moving into his warm embrace. “You're perfect.” you whispered into his chest. 

He had already the grand finale planned. Instead of enjoying it in Arkham, he could enjoy it from the news in a comfy upstate home. Away from consequence, really happy for the first time ever in his life. 

-