Chapter 4
"This is a rather strange avenue for you to take me to. You do realize that the moment someone figures out my occupation, I'll probably get hanged." Edward mused as he followed the older man to the club.
It had been a quiet 2 weeks since he had spoken to the bird, but something had changed that night.
The atmosphere of the city has become stifling, as the vigilantes became even more active than they were before. The station had been receiving even more criminals, and the rogues were now silent.
He prided himself in the idea that this whole shift has occurred because of his actions. Unfortunately, he couldn't brag about his achievements, not if he wanted to keep his job.
Tonight, however, was the last working day in the week for him, and he had been invited by his friend to spend time drinking.
No, his friend wasn't one of the officers in the precinct, no one really liked him there, and the few who did were busy.
"You believe the rumors? Of the place being a hiding space for the outlaws?" The man chuckled, but Edward couldn't help but give him an affronted look.
"Please, Jonathan, do you think I would believe rumors? No. It was proven. I had proved it, might I add. A simple surveillance sweep was all that's needed for it to be confirmed."
"Yet, you have not told your colleagues?" Jonathan muses.
"Why should I? The Ice Berg lounge is more akin to a neutral area than a hideout. Other officers come here as well, but they are of the … other sorts."
"Well, I know the owner well, he will not allow any misfortune to befall you while you are in my presence."
"Ah! The whole 'hey, I know this guy, this person is a friend of my friend, treat him with respect!'" He said in a mocking voice.
To his utter delight, it had gone exactly as he had predicted. Crane had entered and walked straight to the owner to greet them, said owner – Edward just met the penguin of all people! – had given him one look before giving him a warm reception and threatening anyone who would disturb them.
They were given a private booth that had a view of the whole lounge and whatever event would occur on stage.
"Fancy, I must admit." Edward finally said once they were left alone. Crane lifts his glass in agreement. "How do you know Pen- Mr. Cobblepot?"
"He used to be one of my clients."
"No way, the man doesn't seem the sort."
"Everyone has problems, Edward." Crane said, taking a moment to glance at the stage before looking back at him. "It's just the manner of actually detecting it before it simmers and settles down within your conscious. Cobblepot is one of these few individuals."
He was surprised when he saw Jonathan lean in a bit, gesturing for him to do so. Edward followed, and his forehead nearly touching his.
"He has anxiety. High levels that he would need meds for them." He said before leaning back, and Edward made a sound of understanding.
"You do not exaggerate. So, when you use such a thing, I think you are understating it."
Jonathan all but grins at him.
"Interesting. It's not a life, having to depend on medicine to keep you functioning. It's humiliating."
"Are you speaking from experience?" Jonathan asked, raising a brow before a look passed his face. "Is that why you refuse to eat certain things."
"Yes, unfortunately, but that's a story for another time. Now, tell me, did something interesting happened to you since we last met?" He questioned.
An hour later, a waiter comes in with some food, they were surprised to see Penguin had come out of another booth and looked to be fuming, ready to shoot someone. Edward sends a nervous glance at Jonathan, who only gestures for him to calm down and then called out for the owner.
Penguin, hearing the call, turns around and smiled at the sight before entering and joining them.
"Color me surprised when I saw Jonathan had come in with a friend, this man doesn't have many."
"Not many people can keep up with a conversation with me, none the less be able to conjure a debate."
"Ditto." Edward said, grinning at the man's eye roll for his choice of words.
"I see, and you two have known each other for how long?"
"When did we meet? I think it's been months. Since Commissioner Gordon had been hospitalized."
"Oh? It must have been a jarring experience for you to remember that."
"Not really, I went to visit him."
"Visit?" Cobblepot asks before sending a look to Jonathan. Edward felt a small jitter go through his hand before he stopped it and smiled charmingly at the man. "Is he a relative?"
"A co-worker."
"I see, the more I learn about you, the more I truly question why Jonathan had befriended you." He says, it felt as if the man was breathing grime with the way his expression shifted. Edward sent a pained smile at both him and Jonathan, to Penguin to at least be polite, and to Jonathan to yell 'I told you so!' without saying it out loud.
"Believe me, Oswald, Edward is more friendly than Gordon."
"Yes … Jim was a lousy friend. At least yours isn't of the same variety. If you two might excuse me." He said, leaving the room. Edward lets out a sigh of relief.
"I don't know why, but I feel like I just conjured a bounty over my head."
"Don't worry, Cobblepot is like that with every new person." Jonathan tells him. "In fact, the first time I met him, we-"
Jonathan never finished his sentence, for the next thing they knew, an explosion erupted from the front doors of the establishment.
Seeing as they were both on the second floor, they felt the quake immediately. Edward stood up, looking at the window to see what had happened, his hands immediately on the pager, and stared in shock as vines sprouted inside.
"Jonathan, we need to get out!" He says, grabbing onto Jonathan's arms and pulling him out of their booth. Jonathan's eyes turned wild, it was the first time Edward had ever seen an extreme reaction from him as he stumbled out.
Many others came out form the booth that Penguin had sat in earlier, and none of them seemed to be of the law abiding type. He could confirm this just from the fact that they had all pulled out their guns.
Edward stomped on his own feet, and smacked his back to Jonathan's front, forcing him back inside their booth and locking the door. Jonathan was grumbling, rubbing his chin.
"Did you have to-"
"Fuck. I think those were Thorne's men." He said, completely missing the surprise on Jonathan's face. "We just need to hide in here, I already sent a dispatch call. They'll come and get things under control." He said as he pulls the taller man down to hide behind the walls and make themselves invisible.
"Where is he?! I know he's here!" A female voice screamed from below, only reinforcing his theory of who might be attacking.
"What do you think Penguin did to attract Poison Ivy's fury?" Edward blandly asked, but the silence he received only worried him. He turns around to look at Jonathan ... Only for him to pick up something off in his behavior. His chin completely rugged close and his glare on the opposing wall told him more.
"You know why she's here," Edward said, horrified. "Why do you know why she's here?!"
"It isn't something I'd like to share." He said, and Edward felt the terror slowly creep up his spine as he realized. 'Of course, the one person you liked had something to do with the criminal underworld, Of Course!'
"Edward, please," Jonathan noticed his building fear. "It isn't exactly what you think."
"Well, what exactly is it?! Why is one of the deadliest rogues in the city after you!? A psychologist, of all people!"
"I took a plant."
"You took a what?!"
His phone went off.
Edward scrambled for it, wanting to close it, only to notice that the phone number is owned by one the dispatchers from the station. He answers it immediately.
"Director Nygma, we received your SOS."
"Poison Ivy. Ice Berg Lounge-" He screamed when vines sprouted above their heads, breaking the glass that was both protecting and separating him and Jonathan from whatever was happening out in the lobby.
"Cobblepot sold us out." Jonathan hissed under his breath, Edward couldn't help but agree.
The vines dangled for a moment, as if deciding whether they were its intended targets, before it trajected straight at them. Jonathan tried to scramble away, the sprouts almost hitting him, and Edward didn't hesitate before pulling him down.
He takes one glance back only to feel his heart jumping out of his chest, for he saw the vines going straight through the walls.
"I almost got stabbed by her plants, send help!" He screamed at the phone before it was taken from his hands by another vine and was squashed in front of his eyes. Edward gapes, before scrambling and grabbing any object that could be used as a weapon.
He found a sharp shard of glass and immediately throws it at the vein.
The plant shrieked, as if in pain, and flailed for a moment before redirecting itself at him and immediately wrapping itself around his outstretched arms.
"Holy fu-" He couldn't finish, not when the thing yanks him out of place. He could feel his head hitting the table that they were hiding under, definitely giving him a concussion.
Jonathon jumps and grabs onto his legs, and Edward all but screamed as he was being tugged between the lobby and the booth, his stomach right above a sharp shard of glass that stuck out as a result of the veins shattering it.
"Jon, let me go!" He yells, but Jonathan gives him a look that screamed 'Are you crazy?!'
"I am not letting you get killed for my idiocy!"
"It's better me than you!" Edward yelled, and then raised his free foot and stomped, hard, on Jon's hands. The psychologist yells in pain and realized a moment too late that he'd released him.
"Edward!"
"You!" That's when they both look back to find her, hovering above the lounge with the help of the plants, intimidating as hell while casting a shadow over them. Edward was utterly speechless, unable to conjure much at the image of the feistiest and deadliest woman of the rogue gallery as she held him midair.
"I apologize for taking your plant." Jonathan said immediately, and Edward couldn't help but smack himself in the head.
"And I want to say you look lovely today, Dr. Isley, you're a doctor? Right?" Edward starts speaking. "Botany? Well, you do look lovely, and it would be a shame to ruin your dress with my blood stains ... or Jonathans, so if you can just- I'm sorry!" He shrieked as he was flailed overhead for a moment, thrown away by the branch, Jonathan's shout could be heard.
He was saved from the fall by another branch.
"Now, Crane, if you let me behead you, I'll release your friend."
"No! You can't just behead him!" Edward yells. His heart dangerously rising above its normal beating rate.
"Ed, shut up." Jonathan growls before stepping over the table that not only a mere moments ago was being used to dine on. His heartbeat rose, higher, and higher, and he could feel it coming, the pain that he'll feel for what he'll witness. "You can take me, just leave him be. He has nothing to do with this."
Poison Ivy was about to comply, but at that moment, a wire wrapped around her wrists.
And she was yanked down.
Edward was pulled along, but he was saved when a sharp object cut the branch that held him hostage, and he was caught by a flying body. Looking upwards, he cheered.
"Nygma, you alright?" The red robin asked as he lands. Edward could see in the side as Batwoman continued to fight Poison Ivy. He was slowly put down, his heart slows down, knowing that he was safe now. "Get out of here, the cops are getting close."
"Give him to me." Edward's head snapped towards the sound, and he sees Jonathan next to them, panting harshly before leaning down and pulling him off the floor, letting himself be used as a crutch. "You go fight her."
He orders before pulling them out of the lounge.
0o0o0
"You steal a fucking plant from fucking Poison Ivy. You steal a fucking plant. A plant! From POISON IVY!" He kept yelling as they walk through the station, many employees there were either laughing at him or giving him sympathetic looks. It wasn't because of this specific topic, it was mostly because of the incident that happened earlier.
He came out of the incident with a sprained leg, a concussion, and a bleeding broken nose! They had to give him a small splinter for it, and it made him furious. To add insult to injury, dispatch legally couldn't stop the call from getting recorded, and thus, every member of the GCPD has the ability to listen to the SOS call, and they all mostly heard him scream right before his phone had gotten smashed.
And he needs to buy a new phone!
The humanity!
"If it soothes your conscious, I was in need of a compound to help me equate my chemical formula."
"I know that you are passionate," Edward said, stopping in place and taking a breath slowly. "So passionate, in fact, it is one of the things that I admire of you. But, to disregard your safety? And to steal? From a Gotham rogue of all people!"
"I needed to complete it."
"Complete it? Your research? Formula? Is it more important than your life?!" Edward screamed.
All activity in the station had stopped. Everyone had turned to stare at them, and Edward shook in rage as he realized that he was letting his personal life be aired out to these ingrates who couldn't even beat the birds into reaching their place when they had the cruisers and the sidekicks all but ran.
His shaking hands were grabbed by Jonathan's own and was pulled upwards to him. Slowly, he trails his sight on Jon's arms, the neck, the lips, and the eyes. He could see the look of regret on the man's face.
He exhales.
"If I knew, I would have rescheduled our meeting-"
"Are you fucking serious! It's not about the date! It's about your life! What would have happened if I weren't there?!"
"Edward, calm down. I realize that now. I apologize for my rash decisions and actions, but this place is not the place to have this kind of conversation."
"You're right." Edward tells him and then pulls him towards a familiar path, one with less traffic and fewer bumbling fools. They stop in front of an office and he pulls out a key from his belt, unlocking the door, and walking in, dragging Jonathon along. "Welcome … to my office."
Jonathan was speechless. The reaction gave him a bit of amusement, despite everything that had happened today. Anyone who witnesses this place should feel awe and gratification by the sight, after all, this is the place that he works in to accomplishes his goals.
"I know, a bit excessive. But this is how I get the job done. There's a reason Gotham has the lowest pedophilic crimes, after all. One cannot relax knowing that creatures like those are out and about." He said as he walks towards a keyboard and started typing on it.
The screen directly adjacent to his keyboard lights. Then, one by one, every screen, and every monitor lights up. All of them observing a different part of Gotham. Surveillance switching from one part to another in different frequencies.
Watching.
"This is amazing." Jonathan breaths, his eyes unable to decide on which screen they should land on. "You have eyes on every part of Gotham …"
"We used to be fucking productive because of it too. But Loeb," His voice turned scathing at the mention of the acting commissioner. "Had to come in and start kicking out people. My department had about 20 members, everyone used to take a certain job. I staked out for pedophiles along with two others. Three were chasing online drug deals. Computer and digital forensics for imaging. Some for hacking and going through devices. Others go on the field in case we need someone to hack into something, that was usually me. Most of us are tech support too. But ever since freaking Loeb came in, and we're down to 5 people. They're swamped, and I can't expand even more, and I don't have extra limbs."
"No wonder it had gotten harder to arrange our outings."
"Yeah … It's like the guy wants us to fail. Like he wants to shut down the department. If he continues on like this …"
"That man must be horrendous to work with."
"I want Gordon back, but ever since the Scarecrow heist, and he's out of commission." He said, joking at his little play of words before sighing and dropping down on his chair. "They gave me a week off. They think I need it. I don't. I need to stay here."
"It's one week, Edward." He would have deluded himself into thinking that Jonathan actually sounded worried, but knowing the man as well as he does now, he's betting that he's only showing concern as a form of social obligation.
"Yeah? And what sort of damage will Loeb do in one week? I'll come back and find I'll be down to two employees left. He just plain hates me for being a civilian director. What's wrong with that!? I don't see any other officer taking over tech support?!"
"Edward-"
"Now, I find out that you have a rogue after you. Because you wanted to solve some chemical component? Couldn't you have asked me to help?"
"Can you?" Jonathan said, his voice skeptical. It slowly boiled his blood in silent fury.
"Of course I can! Do you think I'm some mere techy? I have a Ph.D. in engineering! I'm on my way to get my chemical doctors! I even have a diploma in computer science."
"You are working on a computer science diploma …" Jonathan mutters, but Edward stood immediately, glaring upwards at the man.
"Show me your formula." He demands. Jonathan appraises him, contemplating whether it's alright to share his findings or not. He was obviously going to deny him the request, but Edward beat him into it. "I almost died because of it, I want to see it."
It was hideously simple.
Edward just blankly stares at it.
He knew his brains processed information faster than others, knew that his genius reached out further than the average mind. But Jonathan was not of average mind. Jonathan has a Ph.D. in both Psychology and Chemistry, he should know this. Yes, it's a bit difficult to balance it out without the use of the rare petals the man had stolen, but Edward only needed but a graphite pencil to solve it.
He writes down the completed formula and promptly threw it at the man's face.
"There! Was it too hard to ask for help? We could have avoided the whole incident with that poisonous lady."
Jonathan stared at the formula as it lay in his hands, his eyes unreadable and blank.
Edward growls, letting out an angry puff of air and points at the door.
"I'm tired today, Jon. Please, leave me alone for the night."
Riddle: Two men were taking cold drinks, the drinks were poisoned. One man drank at least three different drinks in a short amount of time and was alive. The other only had one glass, one drink, for the same amount of time, and died. Why?
Answer: The poison was in the ice. It melted off for the second one in his drink, thus consuming the poison.
Conclusion: He did not have any drinks whatsoever, all mild and non-alcoholic, yet he was the victim in this situation.
AN: -
One of the main reasons I liked Riddler's incarnation in Arkham is because he had the job I wanted to have. Cybersecurity.
I'll admit, I don't want to work cybersecurity anymore, not after hearing what the real guys actually do.
Some cops don't like it when a civilian takes up a high position in the department. Imagine, having a lot more experience and risking your life daily, then when you need a new commissioner, they bring in a green civilian with no experience in the field to lead the men? Wouldn't you get angry?