Uuuh... I really don't have much to say about this one except that I dig Scarecrow and the Riddler. ^.^;
WARNINGS! OMG: Inferred/mentioned disturbing non-consensual(?) sex; language.
I don't own Batman. I just really, really like Batman. A lot.
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"Edward..."
Another night of broken sleep, dreams of vengeance, cryptic riddles, and bats ending abruptly and- God, what did he do to deserve this? It was the third time this week, and he was getting sick of these late-night visits from the good doctor. Didn't Jon have a cell of his own just down the hall? Why did he keep popping in, uninvited, like this?
Edward Nigma had not encouraged these visits. He had, in fact, made it inescapably, unmistakably, crystal-fucking-clear that he did not want Dr. Jonathan Crane sneaking into his cell for spontaneous sex. Or experiments, which, considering the man, went almost hand in hand. Their last encounter had ended with Edward curled up in the fetal position underneath his bed, crying like a baby while he sweated out the hallucinations.
If he wasn't absolutely certain that Crane carried at least one dose on him at all times, he might have tried to strangle the bastard long before now.
His voice, as cold and as heartless as his frosty blue eyes, was soft as he approached, insistent. Even without the fright mask, he had a way of clawing his way into the darkest part of your mind. Edward was no saint, but the skinny doctor, so frail-looking and unassuming, was the devil himself. Screw the boogeyman, the children of Gotham should have been hearing stories about the Scarecrow. The inmates, the guards, and the doctors could attest to that.
Crane sat down on the edge of the bed, long, thin fingers curling into the sheets as he bent over the other man. Edward tried to stay calm, keeping his face turned towards the wall, pretending to be fast asleep. His optimism was foolish, he knew. The tactic never, ever worked. Jon always knew when he was awake. Always.
The doctor chuckled, leaning close to his ear. "Now, Edward... There's no need for these games, is there? We both know you're a light sleeper."
He couldn't turn around. Looking the man in the eyes was the first mistake that literally everyone in the asylum made when dealing with him. They were so intense that it almost hurt to look at them. They pierced right through you, laid your demons bare. "Go away, Jonathan." Nigma hoped he sounded irritable enough that his unwanted companion would leave him be. This was also a useless tactic, but, again, he was trying to be optimistic.
"I see..." Jonathan sighed, the sound exaggerated, more for effect than anything else. "I suppose you're still angry with me for our last... session. You can't really blame me, can you? You look so adorable when you're petrified with fear! I couldn't resist." He inched closer, whispering into the Riddler's ear. "Forgive me, hmm, Edward?"
Edward shuddered as he felt Crane's tongue trace along the shell of his ear. This was wrong on sooo many levels... "Jonny, please leave me alone..." It came out too much like a whimper, a bit too breathy for his own good. Whether it was the fear or a reaction to the physical stimulae was of no consequence. At least not to the doc.
The syringe, taken from an orderly earlier in the day, slipped into Nigma's neck before he had a chance to protest.
x-x-x-x
Edward sat uncomfortably on a bench, knowing that the fresh air wasn't going to soothe his weary mind one bit but trying it anyway. The day was mockingly beautiful, complete with golden sunlight, cheery, fluffy white clouds, and an obnoxiously blue sky. As though nothing had happened last night. He squirmed awkwardly, trying to find a position that didn't cause him extreme discomfort.
He could remember snatches of the previous night's escapade. The sting as the needle had pierced his neck, Jonny's creepy laughter, whirling, unimaginable horrors, limbs tangling in the sheets, sweat glistening on pale skin... He could even vaguely recall climaxing at some point. He supposed it was nice of Crane to bring him to orgasm, at least. It was small consolation for the psychological trauma, but still.
The Mad Hatter saw him sitting there and paused on his way to the gardens. "You look like hell, Eddie."
"I'm well aware of that, thank you," the Riddler replied with a sarcastic smile.
Crane was walking towards the mansion with an armed escort, no doubt headed to a pointless session with yet another shrink, the next in a long line of psychiatrists he'd inevitably drive insane. He smiled when he saw Edward, his expression almost... tender.
Nigma jerked his head in the opposite direction, cheeks flaring to bright scarlet. Jon's laughter was still echoing in his ears long after the slender man had gone.
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I don't know why the idea of Dr. Crane having his way with Eddie amuses me so, but it does. Maybe it's a subconscious desire to get revenge for having to track down all those riddles in Arkham Asylum? (Somebody had waaay too much free time out of their cell...) XD Feel free to review, if you're of a mind to.