Chapter 1

It was a familiar feeling, but a foreboding one nonetheless, the realization of where Jonathan Crane found himself after waking up with a pounding headache, where exactly he was.

He was in a deathtrap.

Crane peeled his face off of the floor and got to his feet, rubbing his temples.

"Great," he muttered, "where the hell am i?"

"Dr. Crane," a screen flicked on in front of Crane, revealing a tall man in a gaudy green suit, "it's a pleasure to see you again."

Edward Nygma, the Riddler, just what Crane needed.

"I don't have time for this," Crane sighed and began looking around the room for an exit.

"Oh but you have to play the game to leave," Nygma smiled slyly.

A panel slid up from the floor in front of Crane, displaying a riddle in green text: "What question can you never answer yes to?"

"Oh I know you're smart Crane, this should be easy," Nygma hummed.

"Are you dead," Crane glared up at Nygma.

"Incorrect!" Nygma hummed, "The answer is-"

"Are you dead," Crane repeated, "you can't answer a question when you're dead."

"But that's not the answer to the riddle," Nygma insisted.

"I don't care it's correct," Crane shrugged, "let me go."

An array of emotions crossed Nygma's face: anger, confusion, annoyance, irritation, frustration, rage, intimidation, distress, fear, and finally fury.

"It's not the right answer!" Nygma yelled loudly. The panel disappeared into the ground with a whirr and a slam and the lighting in the room turned red. Crane glanced around and smirked as a door slid open and Nygma stepped out, red faced and furious. Crane snorted, he didn't look the least bit frightening.

"Then why don't you kill me?" Crane asked. Nygma held his cane up to Crane's throat.

"Who said I wasn't going to kill you?" he asked.

"I did," Crane grabbed Nygma's collar and headbutted him, knocking Nygma back and giving him time to make for the open door. Crane slid in and slammed the door shut. The cool green of the monitors lit the entire room, which reeked of Doritos and sweaty socks. Crane walked over to the monitors and pulled up the panel again, typing his own riddle into the box.

"What the hell is this riddle?" Nygma yelled.

"Jervis taught me it," Crane replied, grinning, "It's from Alice in Wonderland."

"How is a plank of wood anything like a highly intelligent bird?" Nygma barked.

"I suppose you'll need to figure that out for yourself," Crane smiled, "or you could let me leave."

"Go to hell," Nygma growled.

"Well then," Crane smiled, "I'm sure I can call Batman or something right? Let's see if he's on here…Oh look you've got him as a contact on Skype, fancy that!"

"You'll end up in jail too!"

"Not necessarily."

"But there's a chance."

"That's a chance I'm willing to take. I prefer Arkham over death."

Crane tilted his head to the side.

"Do we have a deal Mr. Nygma?"

Nygma had a look of apprehension on his face, then sighed.

"Deal, hit the green button on the left of the panel control."

Crane slammed his hand on the button and walked into the main room.

"Thank you," Crane bowed and walked for the open exit and into the night air, "where are we?"

"We're in outer Gotham," Nygma replied, stepping out beside him, "figured Bats would take longer if I dragged you all the way out here."

"Yeah, great," Crane snatched Nygma's bowler hat off his head, "why do you wear this anyway? Does it have any function or is it like Selina's ears?"

"It completes the look," Nygma snatched the hat back, "do you need a ride?"

"I like walking," Crane shrugged.

"Not in this part of town you don't," Nygma muttered, "this is Joker territory."

"Is that why your van's driving towards the docks," Crane gestured to a bright green van covered in question marks making a beeline for the docks.

"Oh Jesus nononononono!" Nygma ran his hands through his hair, "Oh crap! I just got on Joker's bad side last week!"

"Ooh, tough luck," Crane hummed, "Joker kind of likes me so, maybe you'll be safe with me. I live in Penguin's territory."

"You don't have your own," Nygma lowered his hands, "wait you have a permanent place of residence?" Crane nodded and gestured for Nygma to follow.

"I don't need much more than an apartment on a decent side of the city," Crane replied, "that allows pets."

"You have a pet?" Nygma asked.

"Three cats."

Nygma continued to stare at Crane.

"We could probably catch a bus as soon as we get into Penguin's territory," Crane hummed, "how deep are we into Joker's turf."

"Deep."

"Oh good, well, let's go."

Crane kept walking and just sort of hoped one of Joker's lackeys put a bullet in Nygma's head before they got out of his territory.

For some reason, he still had that sense of foreboding.


Nygma was a complete nervous wreck at this point. Joker's turf was long behind them, but after Crane was kicked off a bus, they were stuck walking through the theater district. Crane was pissed, and kept gesturing to Penguin's lackeys frantically, but stopped whenever he realized Nygma was watching. It was sort of adorable, in a way, and Crane didn't quite look like the intimidating Scarecrow everyone knew him as. He was a spindly, lanky framed man in, from what Nygma could tell, his early thirties, with scruffy brown hair and deep blue eyes.

"You need to stop following me," Crane turned to Nygma finally, "now."

"Well I have nowhere else to go," Nygma reasoned, "I don't have a house, I got evicted after my first heist."

"Mm," Crane rolled his eyes, "maybe you can sleep in a warehouse like most of Gotham's homeless rogues."

"That's not funny Crane."

"I know, I'm being serious."

Nygma sighed and kept following Crane until they arrived at a tall brick apartment.

"Well," Crane opened the building door, "goodnight."

"Wait!" Nygma yelled.

"What?" Crane turned around in confusion.

"Can I, um, stay the night?" Nygma fidgeted uncomfortably, "I don't like sleeping if I'm not in a bed."

"That's stupid," Crane said, "grow a pair."

Nygma flinched, then looked at his feet.

"Please don't say that," he murmured quietly.

"What?" Crane frowned.

"Don't say that," Nygma looked up at Crane, "please."

Crane was quiet for a few minutes, then opened the door wider.

"One night," he said loudly, "and only one. Got it?"

"Absolutely," Nigma nodded.


I need a life.

Also for my usual readers, you may have noticed I got rid of a lot of stories.

Those aren't coming back.

Sorry.

Oki Scriddler trash will return weekly!