DISC: Sadly enough, I am not the owner of Jonathan Crane, Edward Nygma, or Gotham.
Jonathan Crane woke up slowly, groggily registering his surroundings. He was some place…soft. Pavement, at least in his experience, was not soft. Maybe he had somehow managed to drag himself home…
Painfully, the Master of Fear opened his eyes…and gasped.
He was definitely not at home.
Where was he? Jonathan thought wildly. His last memory was the thugs, the pain, the sourly metallic taste of blood in his mouth, then blackness. He'd had the strangest dream…
And now he was here. But where was here?
Don't panic. Jonathan snapped inwardly. He liked being in control…but he was certainly not in control of this situation now…Analyze. Jonathan demanded in his mind. Observe.
He was in a green room.
Pam? No.
This green was far to garish for the Princess of Plants. Besides, there wasn't a plant in sight. Turning his head slightly-and wincing at the pain- Jonathan looked at the small bedside table.
Then he knew.
Nobody else had question-marked lampshades.
?
"NYGMA!"
The Riddler jumped at least a foot in the air as the roar erupted from the room down the hallway. It was at least an hour past dinner time, and Eddie had just made himself a nice sandwich when he was startled nearly out of his wits by the shout. The Riddler set down the food, suddenly not hungry anymore, and tugged at his collar nervously. Then, smoothing his hair back and straightening up in one fluid motion, he headed towards the hallway. The Scarecrow was injured. How much damage could he do?
A/N: Hehehehe…poor Eddie. He's in for it now…even if it's only a verbal lashing.
XD