DISC.: Don't own Jonny, Eddie, Gotham, etc.
"Ow…ow…ow….OUCH! NYGMA!"
"You know, this wouldn't hurt so much if you'd just hold still."
"I AM HOLDING STILL!"
The Riddler sighed in frustration. He'd been trying to clean the large cut on the Master of Fear's forehead for the past ten minutes, as the blood had begun to seep steadily through the stitches, making Jonathan look like a Frankenstein experiment gone wrong.
Eddie was being as gentle as he could, but the Scarecrow's constant squirming was not helping.
Said Scarecrow had just about had enough.
"It's fine." he growled, weakly trying to smack Eddie's hand away from his forehead.
The Riddler swatted Jonathan's hand back down in annoyance. "Will you relax? I'm almost done."
Jonathan muttered something under his breath, but-being too weak to do anything else- slumped back impatiently against the pillow.
Finally, Eddie put away the medical equipment and placed a clean bandage over the stitches, just in case. The instant it was in place, Jonathan began struggling to sit up.
The Riddler immediately shook his head, pushing him back down.
The Scarecrow grimaced. "I'm leaving."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Jonathan, I did not pick you up off the streets, drag you here, and clean you up so you could just go and undo everything! I chose to help you out of the kindness of my heart, and so help me, you are not leaving until you are fully functional!"
The two men glared at each other for a minute- one catching his breath after the considerable verbal tirade, and the other trying not to show his surprise at the first's words. Finally, the Scarecrow slumped back on the pillows, crossing his arms and trying not to wince as he did so.
"Fine. Get me something to eat."
Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"
"Food. You know, the substance I need to continue living?"
The Riddler smirked. "Again, I took you in, cleaned you up…if you want something, the least you could do is say please."
Jonathan glared at him, refusing to say anything.
Eddie turned on his heel and headed for the doorway. "Ok, then."
He was about to leave when he heard the distinct squeaking of the bedsprings and saw the Scarecrow trying to get up out of the corner of his eye.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." he cautioned.
"And why not?"
"You're too weak. You try that, and I assure you, you'll fall over."
Jonathan sneered. He was fine. Even if he did have a concussion, he wasn't dizzy, so it couldn't be a very bad one. 'Fall over' indeed…
Easing his feet out of bed, the Master of Fear swung his legs over, stood up, and promptly…fell over.
A wave of dizziness washed over him and he realized he was a good deal more worse off than he had previously thought.
But instead of hitting the ground as he'd expected, and probably earning himself another concussion in the process, Jonathan found himself being held up by…Eddie.
Nygma had his arms under Jonathan's, keeping the Lord of Despair from collapsing altogether.
"Idiot." Eddie muttered, and Crane had no choice but to put an arm around the Riddler's shoulders as he carefully helped him into bed again. "What did I say about standing?"
Shaking his head, the Riddler straightened up and headed back to the doorway, calling behind him, "Don't do that again."
"Wait." Jonathan said as Eddie stepped over the threshold.
"What?"
"I'm still hungry. Bring me something…."-the Master of Fear grimaced-"…please."
The Riddler smiled. "Ok."
?
"I hope you like peanut-butter."
"It'll do."
Jonathan took the sandwich from Eddie and began to devour it. The Riddler found himself wondering when the Scarecrow had last eaten. He waited until Jonathan had finished his meal, then asked, "Are you going to tell me what happened?"
The Master of Fear considered this for a moment.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because…because I don't want to."
Eddie raised an eyebrow. What could have happened to the Scarecrow, that he didn't want to talk about it?
Well…he'd find out later.
"Alright." he said for now, then, "You should rest."
To his surprise, Jonathan agreed with him.
He was already asleep when the Riddler left the room.