A/N: Hey, people! Here's another chapter! Hope you like!
Disc- don't own Gotham or the peoples in it.
Eddie woke up around two a.m. the next morning, unsure of what had awakened him. Then he heard it.
A soft moan, followed by a fit of coughing echoed down the hall.
Eddie clicked on the lamp beside him and dragged himself out of bed.
?
Down the hall, Jonathan Crane tossed fitfully in his bed, unaware if he was awake or asleep. One minute he was ice cold and the next his very blood seemed to be boiling. Every few minutes he was gripped by an uncontrollable coughing fit, which made his fractured ribs ache and his lungs burn as he gasped for air.
Suddenly the light flicked on.
Crane coughed a few more times and grimaced, forcing his eyes open. They watered, making the man by the door seem like he was underwater. The man came closer and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Hey," he said, struggling not to yawn, "you alright?"
"Do I look 'alright'?" hissed the Scarecrow.
Eddie had to admit that he didn't. The Master of Fear's face was flushed, a sharp contrast to its usual pallor, and his eyes were blood-shot and red-rimmed. He'd been fine when Eddie had gone to bed the night before…
Smothering another yawn, the Riddler gingerly touched his fingertips to Jonathan's forehead. Crane flinched away instantly, feebly poking at Eddie's arm.
"Relax." Eddie commanded, "I'm just seeing if you have a fever."
"What do you think?" Jonathan demanded hoarsely.
"You've got a fever." the Riddler conceded, removing his hand.
"Hold on, I'll go get you some Aspirin."
?
Two hours later, the Scarecrow had finally fallen back into a fitful sleep and Eddie stumbled back to bed, trying to convince himself that the only reason he had stayed up was to make sure that the Master of Fear didn't break another rib with his coughing fits. He hoped this would blow over soon. If Jonathan got pneumonia or something, the Riddler would probably be forced to bring him to the hospital, and then they'd take him back to Arkham. And that was the last place he wanted to go. Plus there was the little matter of what had happened to the Scarecrow in the first place. Was it a random mugging; a heist gone wrong? Or was it something bigger than that? Could whoever had hurt Crane still be trying to kill him? What if they had left him for dead and Eddie was the only reason he was still alive? Would they come back to finish the job?
As much as he hated to admit it, the Riddler had no answers to any of these questions. And the harder he thought, the more tired he became, until, exhausted and puzzled, the Riddler feel asleep.
A/N: Poor Jonathan! Hopefully he won't get too sick. What did happen to him, anyway? The answer may surprise you. : ) Thanks to the reviewers! You guys are awesome! : D