Author's Note: Sorry this one took a while! I needed to do a bit of research for this one, as I am no brain surgeon. Hopefully it's worth it! I tried to include a bit of humanity within the Riddler with this one. The Joker, as well as other rogues, I think, has lost pretty much all humanity he ever had, but the Riddler I think still has his sanity in certain respects. Chapter 9 will probably be the last chapter in this one. =(
Thank you BrocktreeJustLeft for reading, I honestly wasn't expecting anyone to read considering this is my first story :)
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own the Riddler or Gotham of Batman or anything else you recognize. Only Allison Capuano is mine. :P
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Part VIII
The quality of Henchmen in Gotham had gone down drastically in Gotham over the years. Twenty years ago, when the Riddler was just starting his criminal career, henchmen had been strong, almost intelligent individuals, willing to complete almost any request in order to climb up the criminal ladder.
Now-a-days, most henchmen were anything but respectable. They were more or less Neanderthals, who just wanted quick money. And it appears that the Riddler had hit the jackpot of idiocy when he had picked up his current Query, Conundrum, and Question.
Conundrum was the most tolerable of the lot, expect for his obsession with sports. It was if the man had a physical need to watch every sports event on television. This was his first henching job though, and he was in rude awakening for his next job, as most rogues were not as tolerant as The Riddler. Question had apparently dropped out of school in the seventh grade, and had survived henching for the Joker, for which The Riddler gave him quite a deal of credit. However, he had not made it out unscathed; he laughs whenever he hears screaming, and still answers to "Chuckles."
Query was the one that made the Riddler particularly nervous. The only way to describe him was "vile." Large and overall disgusting, Query had served a three year sentence in Blackgate for whatever despicable crime he had committed. More than once, Riddler had had to order him to the getaway vehicle, as he was too busy harassing the woman in the building.
One may be wondering why The Riddler didn't just fire them if they were such a burden. But in Gotham, the rogue-henchmen relationship is a very complicated one. It was assumed that upon hiring, the henchmen were sworn to secrecy of all deeds committed by their employer, until the henchman/girl either fails to complete their henching duties, or is captured by the authorities. But until that time, the rogue was obligated to keep that henchman/girl around.
So The Riddler's dilemma here was… how was he going to get those three caught by the police without exposing himself?
Well for now, nothing… The Riddler groaned, as the last of the equipment was thudded onto the ground. But soon, he reassured himself; these three will be prime Bat-bait. But until then, he had things to accomplish.
And this, of course, involved stealing an MRI machine from North Gotham Hospital. What he didn't intend on was hauling surely a ton of very breakable equipment across the city. And with the bumbling henchmen he was cursed with, it was nearly impossible.
But they had succeeded, and in what was formerly a small library of his warehouse was chuck just of monitors and the machine. Beautiful, he thought to himself.
"Get Dr. Capuano, Query." he barked, his eyes still fixed on the machine.
"Yes sir." the man disappeared into the other room, the steel door slamming behind him. Query scanned the room, fixing his gaze on the young woman sleeping on the couch. He grinned, and approached the couch.
"Wake up doll," He grabbed her shoulder, pulling her into a sitting position. "The boss wants ya."
"Ok," She mumbled, struggling to get up, but found herself pinned underneath the man's grasp on her shoulder.
"Don't worry; I can see ya in a fragile state 'ere. I'll just carry ya in!" The man picked her up, his arm resting on her bottom. She started to speak but he interrupted her. "I know, I'm a real gentleman ain't I? How 'bout a kiss?" He stopped in the doorway, leaning forward.
Completely disgusted, Allison slapped the man as hard as she could manage. But Query just laughed.
"You're a feisty one huh?" He brought a hand to his slightly pink cheek, carefully setting her down to the floor; still keep a firm grip on her shoulder. Grinning, he slammed her head into the wall, eliciting a low whimper from Allison. "Too bad you don't got any manners."
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In the other room, The Riddler kept squirming, fixing his gloves, adjusting his hat, aching to figure out what was wrong.
Query soon reappeared with Allison in tow. Her head was down as she walked, stumbling a bit with each step.
"Doctor," Allison lifted her head revealing a bloody lip, tears streaming down pale cheeks. His face darkened. "Query?" His voice was a growl. "What happened to Doctor Capuano?"
The man grinned slightly, despite the menacing look of The Riddler's face, making Allison sick to her stomach. "She tripped." Query shrugged his shoulders.
Bill Tush. The Riddler thought to himself. "Very well," He thought for a moment. I can afford to get rid of them now. "While the good doctor and I chat, I need you three to visit an acquaintance of mine." He scribbled an address down on a piece of paper. "He has something I require." Yes, a means to rid myself of three poor henchmen. The three men lingered. "Go!" He barked, and the three men scurried out of the room.
After hearing the final slamming of the door, The Riddler yanked a purple handkerchief from the pocket of his jacket, handing it to her. "I apologize on behalf of those three."
She wiped her lip, "Thank you."
"They were given specific instructions not to harm you, but then again, henchmen in this town aren't known for their humanity." He pressed a few buttons on the control board.
"Where did you send them?" The Riddler chuckled to himself. "What?" Allison asked, imagining about a hundred horrifying possibilities.
"The acquaintance I sent them off to meet happens to be Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow. He's not one for visitors. We shouldn't be expecting them back anytime soon." He remembered the time he had intruded upon Jonathan's lair, and shuddered, recalling the hallucinations of flaming bats that had plagued him for three weeks after the incident.
"I see..." She folded the handkerchief several times, placing it in the pocket of her sweats, nonchalantly.
"All things aside, I believe I have this set up properly," He took one last look at the machine, obviously still shaking with anger.
"If you're all set," Allison said, approaching him, gazing down at the monitor. "I guess we can get you set up then…"
Twenty minutes later, the machine was ready to go, and the Riddler was lying on the cot, clad in a dreaded hospital gown. It had been a while since he had worn something besides green, and in the pale blue gown, he felt exceptionally naked.
"Are you ready yet, Doctor?" The Riddler was border-line whining at this point, not that anyone could blame him, and the freezing atmosphere of the warehouse did nothing for the cool plastic of the MRI machine.
"Just about," He heard her clacking away at a keyboard. "Now, you need to stay perfectly still. And if there any problems just yell for me to stop the machine."
"Fine, let's just get this done." He snapped back, he saw her frown ever so slightly from the other side of the glass wall that had been set up. "I didn't mean to come off as rude, I'm just anxious." He said softly.
"Alright," She pressed another set of buttons, and the machine began to roar. Soon, The Riddler was fully engulfed in the machine, hearing the beeping and the churning of the gears.
The literal moment of truth was upon him, where his ultimate fate was to be determined by, honestly, a second-rate doctor. What if he had Alzheimer's? That would be the ultimate irony of the world. He had spent years perfecting his thought process and caring for his mind and all of that would be destroyed. He tried to keep himself from shaking, from anger, from anticipation, and from a bit of fear.
A beeping sounded, his guess signaling the end of the test, and he was slowly released from the machine. Once Doctor Capuano was in his field of vision, he knew that things had not gone well. Her hand was covering her mouth, her eyes fixed on the main screen. "Doctor?" He called, still not receiving her attention. "What is it?" She shook her head and typed a few more keystrokes. From the printer above her head, a long sheet of paper appeared, which she grabbed and carried into the other room. She pulled a chair over to sit next to him, gripping the bundle of paper tightly.
He's a patient. Allison told herself, sitting down next to him. And he needs to hear this as if he were any other person. She glanced down at the scan once again. There couldn't be a mistake with this diagnosis.
"You have a type of cancer." She spoke slowly, showing him the printed scan of his brain. "Brainstem glioma, which is incredibly rare in adults," She pointed out a mass at the bottom of the scan. The Riddler's breathing halted.
"Cancer," He nodded, "Then I can be cured? Chemotherapy, radiation, surgery…" He trailed off, waving his hands in the air. Allison bit her lower lip. "There must be something!" He slammed his fist down on the cot, the noise echoing through the room.
She placed a hand over his, surprising him at the contact. "Because of the location, your lower brainstem, and your age, it makes it inoperable, and chemo and radiation will have no effect. They'll only make you sicker at this point."
The Riddler's jaw was clenched tightly. "At this point meaning?"
She cleared her throat. "The cancer has been developing for a while now. I'm so sorry, Mr.-" Allison paused, brows furrowed, she had no idea what his actual name was.
"Nigma, Edward Nigma." He said softly. "How long would you presume I have?"
"I'd say about two or three months." Her voice broke ever so slightly. Without the mask, and the cane, Edward Nigma was just a man, who at this point was scared, and absolutely alone. Somehow, the fate of the hardened criminal was much sadder than that of any other patient she had had. Most patients had family, or at least friends to comfort them, he had no one.
"Interesting…" He said, his voice lacking all emotion. "Will it be…?" He shook his head, "Painful?"
"By the looks of it, you'll start to become unaware of your surroundings for longer lengths of time, different systems will begin to shut down and then eventually…" She trailed off. "It won't be painful, but very difficult."
"Damn. I could have handled the pain." He sighed, resting his head in his hands. He coughed and sat back up. "As promised, I'll be returning you to your home by tomorrow." She nodded. "You have been endlessly helpful Miss Capuano." And with that, he stood up and left the room.