A/N: I don't own anything. Read and review, if you please.
The Riddler And The Rubik's
by MiscellaneousSoup
Edward sat in his cell, fuming like a petulant child. "It's not fair! He always beats me!" He kicked the bench, hoping that would relieve some of his frustration. Unfortunately, it only succeeded in giving him a severely bruised foot. "OW! Great, now I'm going to be sore for hours. Why do I give in to my lesser instincts? I am a man of wit, not some dumb thug wielding brute force like a security blanket! Ahem, no offense, Waylon."
Over in the next cell, Killer Croc growled. "When I get out of here, we're going to have words. Violent words."
Edward shuddered and made a mental note to avoid the sewers for a few months. Dejected, he began pacing the call, wincing every time his injured foot touched the ground. "I can't just stand around here with my cerebellum rotting. Maybe I can get something from an officer." He tapped on the reinforced steel door in the front of his cell. "Excuse me, guard? Might I please ask for a small piece of chalk? I am afraid that if I don't have something to do, it's going to bug me for the rest of the day."
Fortunately for him, the guard for his particular cell block happened to be charitable. His name was Pete Adsit, a chubby, balding man with an affinity for the more harmless prisoners. One could often find him shooting the breeze with a Calendar Man or Condiment King-type on a standard day, especially if he wanted to gain some new ideas for his so-called 'study on the effect of prisoner interaction.' Cell block D-1 was often mocked, as a result.
Not helping its lackluster reputation was the fact that it was at the front of Arkham Asylum. The newly processed inmates were shoved in there like a tin of sardines, leaving Pete to make idle chitchat while he waiting for the criminals to be moved to cells that were especially made to contain certain inmates. It wasn't an efficient system, leaving room for curious visitors to stare at the prisoners like animals in a zoo, but, hey, it was Arkham Asylum, not exactly known for being competent.
In reality, it merely consisted of a notebook filled with scribblings on the habits, likes, and dislikes of various prisoners. The Riddler was one of his favorite subjects, as he liked to consider himself a philosopher on the side.
So, when Edward Nigma tapped on the glass and asked for a piece of distraction, he was more than happy to oblige. Hefting himself up from his chair, he ambled over to the wall. "Hey, Eddy."
Edward gritted his teeth, but tried to look charming. That nickname brought up some exceedingly unpleasant memories. "Hi, Pete. So, about that chalk?"
Pete nodded. "Sorry about that, Eddy, but I can't give any to ya. Y'see, last time I gave you a pencil, and you were gone five hours later. One of the government bigwigs gave me a real strict talking-to after that, and warned me that she would be back if I made any other mistakes. She kind of scares me, to be honest. You've probably heard of her, Amanda Waller."
He kept rambling on about Amanda Waller and her rumored project to forcibly make metahumans work with the government under threat of death for another five minutes, until Edward began to nod off. With a start, he woke back up, banging his head on the wall. "DRAT! Um, Pete, I know you can't get me a pencil, but what about a bandage? You don't need an investigation into possible police brutality, right?"
Pete narrowed his eyes. "I'm no fool, Nygma. I know that you're manipulating me. I'll get you a bandage and a little plaything, but that's it." He shuffled off to the first aid center.
Edward stood there, head throbbing, calming himself down by trying to remember a Sudoku puzzle that caught his eye during his mug shot. Let's see, what was in the middle of the puzzle? Wait, no, I think the guard got it wrong.
After a few more minutes of puzzling the, er, puzzle out, Pete returned. "Okay, stand back and turn towards the wall." He pressed a green button on the outside of the wall. Near the middle, special nanobots formed themselves into a pneumatic tube. As soon as an object was put in the tube, they would be sucked into the cell, gently depositing themselves on the ground.
As soon as Edward received the proper instruction, he turned around, noticing a bandage and, for some mysterious reason, a Rubik's cube. Briskly, he picked up the bandage, ripped off the wrapping, and placed it on his forehead, making sure to put the remaining paper scraps into the tube. "Thank you for the bandage, but why on Earth did you give me a children's toy? I'm a genius. I could solve ten of them while blindfolded."
Pete shrugged. "It was the best thing I could find in the back office. Relax, Eddy. Be a kid again. Who knows, maybe it'll do you some good. I'm going on my break."
Grumbling once more, Edward sat down on his bench, aimlessly fiddling with the Rubik's cube. As he fidgeted with the device, long fingers skillfully taking the device apart and putting it back together, memories began bubbling up.
…
Gotham City, 1982…
"You've got to get out there, Eddy. Play some more football, Eddy. It'll toughen you up, make you into a real man." Jim Nashton dabbed at Edward's knee with a tissue, making him wince. "Come on, champ, it's just a small cut."
Edward's lip trembled. "I don't like the other boys, Daddy. They're mean to me. Terry deliberately pushed me into the ground. Please, can I just quit? I'm perfectly happy playing in my room."
Jim snorted in disgust and got up to fix himself a drink. "You know, Eddy, you can be an ungrateful little snot. All your life, who's been there to take care of you? Who?" He pulled a bottle of wine out of the fridge, gave it a quick sniff, then took a deep swig from it. "Hey, I asked you a question."
Edward sighed. "You did, Daddy."
Jim burped slightly. Less than half of the bottle was gone. "Exactly. And, what kind of twelve-year-old says 'Daddy?' You need to stop being so weird. You know what, I think I will sign you up for that hockey team next month. More sports will do you some good. No one likes a whiny kid." As he grew angrier, his work steadily grew sloppier. At the end of his rant, the bottle of rubbing alcohol slipped and fell against Edward's knee.
He jerked, shocked by the coldness of the bottle. It fell to the ground, shattering with a loud CRUNCH! Edward yelped and scooted his chair away. The chair, already worn with age, buckled, sending him to the ground, where a small bit of glass nicked his leg. "OW!"
"DAMN IT, EDDY!" Jim growled. Halfway to the closet, he threw up his hands and went upstairs. Before he closed the bedroom door, he gave Edward one last message. "I'm done, Eddy. I'm takin' a nap. You can clean yourself up. Sweep up the glass while you're at it. If it's not done by the time I get up, then things are going to get more painful. You hear me?" Edward sniffed, then went to fetch the broom and dustpan.
...
Slowly, Edward came out of his absorption. Staring down at the Rubik's cube, a glimmer of a plan formed in his mind. Checking to make sure that Pete was still on his break, he broke off a section of the toy and tossed it at the wall. "Hey, Croc. Croc!"
Growling, Killer Croc looked up. "Yes, Nigma?"
Steeling himself, Edward began spewing insults with all the bravado that he could muster. "You're a dumb, dumb animal. I don't know how you can call yourself an effective criminal. You simply kill people.
A deadly glint appeared in Croc's eye. "I told you, I don't do that anymore. I've turned over a new leaf."
Edward ignored him and continued screaming. "For goodness sakes, your most notable non-cannibalistic criminal activity is throwing a boulder at Batman. I've seen him get out of the most sophisticated death traps imaginable. You really think a boulder would manage to brush the tips of his cowl?"
As Edward shouted, all of his past frustrations and failures welled up in his memory. His father's neglect, the classmates who shunned him, the coworkers who laughed at his ideas. "You couldn't come up with a decent plan if you had a brain transplant! Riddle me this, Killer Croc. What's stupid, scaly, and repulsive? You! You're pathetic, weak, spineless, craven...You're a freak, Jones, nothing but a repugnant freak!"
Killer Croc let out a bestial roar and slammed himself against the wall, shattering it. With one swipe of his paw, he cracked Edward's cell. "I'M GONNA GET YOU, NYGMA!"
Riddler ducked under Killer Croc's arms, grabbed two of the Lego bricks, and shoved them into Killer Croc's face, grinding them into his eyes. While the reptilian rascal howled in agony, Edward ran towards the evidence locker.
Fortunately, he was able to find his trademark green suit and purple gloves fairly quickly. After a few minutes, he was suited up. The Riddler was back. With a cackle, he pressed the main control button for D-1, releasing every criminal. Along the way, he also swiped a crumbling chunk of the wall, hoping that it wouldn't dampen the power of the nanobots. Pete, cowering under the break room's table after hearing Croc's rampage, moaned. Desperately, he grabbed for his walkie-talkie. Before he could call for help, the Riddler smashed it with his question-mark cane. "Nighty-night, Petey." And with that, he whacked Pete with the side of his question-mark cane and escaped into the night.
…
Two days later…
The Riddler was back to pacing, waiting for the Batman to arrive. So far, everything was going surprisingly well. He had prepared his death trap seventeen hours ahead of schedule, and made sure to not tell anyone about it. To make sure that no details would leak via interrogation to the Bat, he hadn't even hired any minions. It was just him, going solo. Grinning, he waited in the Museum of Art's new "Toys Throughout History" section, waiting for his foe to arrive.
Outside, the police were huddled, some trying to demand answers from the Riddler through varying sizes of megaphone, others checking to make sure that all of the innocents in the museum had escaped on time. (Of course they had, what a stupid thought. The Riddler didn't want to hurt any civilians. That would harm the timing of his plan. No, only the Bat would suffer this evening.)
Back in the building, the Riddler heard a small thump. Ah, just in time. "Greetings, Batman!" His voice rang out across the room. "How nice of you to join me. Care for a chat?"
Batman's voice echoed from somewhere across the room. Given the number of objects for it to bounce off of, it was almost impossible to triangulate his position. That is, if you weren't the Riddler. He made a few quick calculations and activated his device. A miniature bomb near the Lego exhibits went off, melting the glass with a hiss. All of the bricks fell to the ground, disrupting some of the other attractions.
Deep inside the building, Batman started to run. Unfortunately for him, the bricks started to move. All of them joined together, trapping Batman in the middle, forming a giant Rubik's cube. Only his head peeped out. Inside, he was presumably struggling against the nanobot-enhanced ropes, desperately reaching for some odd Bat-gadget.
The Riddler walked over to him, sneering. "How do you like it? I designed it myself. A little bit of nanobots, some thick rope, and Legos. Easy! It's fortunate that people are still trying to profit off of that movie. Anyway, if you haven't already realized it, you're in a Rubik's cube." He held up a small remote control. "I can use this to control the Rubik's cube and manipulate it. Now, you may be wondering something. Wouldn't it be too easy for me to solve this? After all, I crafted it. Nope! If I take too long to make a move, then every single color will change. I'll have to start all over. And the best part is, every time the bricks move, you get squeezed, tighter and tighter. I'll be able to hear your bones break as I partake in a lovely game."
Batman grunted, a rope digging into his back. "You've made a mistake, Riddler. As always, you're only focusing on your project, instead of the bigger picture. You've gotten sloppy. Are you listening, Eddy?"
The Riddler's face contorted in rage. He activated the remote control. "Say goodbye, Batman. Let's see, I'll move that blue cube to the left. It might sever your spine, but sacrifices must be made for art." He pressed the button. The chosen cube lit up and shuddered briefly, but it didn't move. After a moment, the glow faded, returning to the usual dull sheen.
Batman started thrashing about, crashing into the walls, slowly making the cobbled-together bricks crumble and fall.
Riddler squeaked in fear and ran away, dropping the remote. Behind him, he could hear Batman breaking more of his beautiful death trap. No, no, NO! What had gone wrong? He had the trap, the proper location, and the...riddle...Dear God, no, the riddle!
Stunned by his realization, Edward stopped dead in his tracks. The riddle! He was so filled with anger that he hadn't put his full effort into the riddle. It was just a minor puzzle formed out of other materials in the evidence room. Words made out of random objects...amateur! He hadn't even bothered to disguise the fact that he nabbed some of the nanobots. Maybe the head injury from before had injured him more severely than he previously thought. Before he could speculate as to precisely what happened, a Batarang made contact with his head, knocking him unconscious.
…
The Riddler woke up in the medical section of Arkham Asylum. Batman was standing by his bed, looking grim. "Don't you get tired of looking like that?" Riddler croaked. 'Looking like that?' That hardly makes sense. What's wrong with me?
Batman continued glaring at him. "You're lucky, Nygma. The guards managed to capture most of the criminals. Only a few escaped and they're minor threats. If it was any worse, you would be stuck here for life. As it is, you're still not going to leave for a long time. Additionally, the doctors discovered that you have a minor fracture in your head. Have you been noticing anything...different?"
Edward thought back to the day's events. Almost irrational anger, flashbacks to traumatic events, uncharacteristic forgetting of his usual modus operandi, and a strange sense of sadness that had been nagging at him.
"To put it simply, Edward, the doctors are working on you. A few more days without treatment and you might have died. But, some of them have taken a second glance at your prescriptions and they're going to give you the proper medicine this will be cured someday. The last time I had to bring you in, you expressed doubts about your own sanity. You were worried that you might actually be crazy. That's progress. You're going to get help. Goodbye, Edward."
And with that, he disappeared. Edward blinked and he was gone. Strange, because it felt as if he had only blink for a moment. Then again, as he glanced down at his wrist, thoughts getting fuzzier, it could be the medicine….
THE END
Epilogue:
Edward strode out of Arkham Asylum, a free man. Today, he would begin a new life, free of criminal activity and free of constantly being beaten up by costumed heroes. He was going to become a puzzle shop owner.
A/N: Just for fun, some thoughts on the making of this story. I had no intention of writing this today. I was just browsing through the Internet. I saw a post on Twitter from the Cinema Sins account about a movie idea, featuring a Rube Goldberg-esque killer. That made me think of the Riddler trapping the Bat-family in a Rubik's cube. That almost happened, but I decided to narrow it down to just Batman. The story also wasn't mean to be as sympathetic, both in the flashbacks and the ending. I was just remembering some reading that I had done a week ago about the character and decided to add it in. About the ending, I personally enjoy the Riddler as a criminal and if I ever write a another DC story, it's likely that if he appears, it'll be as a villain. It's just that, for some reason, I chose to have him (possibly temporarily) reform at the end. He's reformed before, you never know.
Oh, and Batman's dialogue was inspired by something that I found in my reading about the Riddler that really touched me. There was a comic made that was based on Batman: The Animated Series. One story about the Riddler really made me sad. After getting his newest plot foiled by Batman, he says, "You don't understand. I really didn't want to leave you any clues. I really planned never to go back to Arkham Asylum. But I left you a clue anyway. So I...I have to go back there. Because I might need help. I...I might actually be crazy." It struck a chord with me, so part of me resolved to put that in a story someday. All in all, it's just a fun little story that expanded into a darker, larger story. I hope you enjoyed it. I'll probably go back to having goofy stories in the future. Have an excellent day!