DISC.: Don't own Jonathan, Eddie, or Gotham.
Edward Nygma was near bursting with happiness.
After all, he had a lot to be happy about.
The Riddler was currently working on a wonderful little death trap, he'd recently acquired a beautiful new lair on the edge of town that he had been eyeing for some time, and Jonathan was stumbling around somewhere in the lair and not ordering him about.
Life was perfect.
Of course, one should never say that. Because the moment a person utters that phrase, it's as if they are taunting life itself to bring everything crashing down on top of them.
THUD, CRASH. "Ow. Ow. Ow. NYGMA!"
Except, usually, 'crashing down on top of them' is a figure of speech.
You know, for a guy who hates asking for help, he sure can be needy. Eddie thought to himself as he left his work table and hurried to follow the sounds of the injured scarecrow. "Jonathan?" the Riddler called, rounding the corner. His mouth fell open at the sight before him. "Jon…what did…what…" he stammered as he took in the small green table by the couch, now tipped over, and the TV set, now on its side. Jonathan sat awkwardly on the floor between them, one long leg bent crookedly beneath him. The Master of Fear blew out a sigh of frustration and pain. "I just wanted to see if I could walk a little faster. I haven't been as dizzy lately, and …"
Eddie raised an eyebrow before covering his face with one hand.
Jonathan glared up at him.
"Well are you just going to stand there? Help me up!"
The Riddler put his hands on his hips. He knew the Scarecrow was injured, possibly more than previously, but right now he had no intention of helping him to his feet.
"I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?" he asked.
"Don't patronize me, Nygma!" Jonathan shouted. "You were the one that brought me here in the first place! It's not my fault that they did this! That they…" The Master of Fear suddenly seemed to realize what he was saying and caught himself. But Eddie had heard enough. "Who did this to you, Jonathan?" he asked, barely above a whisper, as he crouched down beside the Scarecrow. "Why won't you tell me?" For a minute, Jonathan's glare seemed to soften. Then his eyes hardened again. "You don't need to know." Before the Riddler could reply, Jonathan asked, "Help me up?….Please?"
?
"What's it do?"
"The death trap? Well, hopefully capture the Batman until he can answer a delightfully convoluted riddle! If he can that is…hehehe…"
The Scarecrow raised an eyebrow.
"How…diabolical."
Eddie made a face. "Hey, I'm the Riddler. What did you expect?"
The Master of Fear had been puttering around the Prince of Puzzle's make-shift "work-shop" for the past half-hour, and he was incredibly bored. There were no interesting chemicals, lab tables, not even a Bunsen burner to entertain him. Just gears, wires, tools, tools, and more tools. There wasn't even a single vial.
"Wouldn't it be more fun to torture him first?" Jonathan asked. "You know, hear him scream a little?" The Riddler rolled his eyes. "The tortures of the mind are infinitely more affective than physical trauma."
"But that's what fear is!"
Eddie tightened a gear on his trap a fraction of an inch. "Not necessarily. To invoke fear, you must have some outside stimulus. An "instigator" if you will. Usually pain, or something like that."
Jonathan shook his head impatiently.
"Fear is infinitely more intricate than that. One can show a frightening movie and leave people terrified. It doesn't have to be physical."
While the Riddler realized this was true. He wasn't going to admit that Jonathan was right. So he merely grunted and pretended he was too busy to care.
Jonathan, knowing he'd won, but disappointed his opponent hadn't conceded to the fact, sniffed and turned to the door.
"Where are you going?" Eddie's asked.
"Out."
Before the Riddler could reply, Jonathan was gone.
?
The Scarecrow strode along the street, looking around him, and finding himself wishing he had a second pair of eyes. Anything so he could see everyone and gauge if they were dangerous. He had gone outside, partly to spite Nygma and partly so he could fool himself into thinking that he was free. That it was just a normal day. So far, he was pretty sure that he'd only succeeded with the first. Unless the Riddler was still working on his "death-trap". He might not have even realized that the Master of Fear was gone. Crane sneered at this. He wondered if Edward would panic when he realized that Jonathan wasn't in the lair. Oh no, where's Jonathan? The Master of Fear chuckled slightly at this, then stopped abruptly. A man down the block dressed in a muddy trench-coat was watching him intently. Crane's eyes widened. No. They weren't back.
They were.
?
"Jonathan…Jonathan, this isn't funny. Come out. Aren't you hungry? I just know you're going to jump out somewhere…" Suddenly the door to the lair banged open and Eddie jumped back in fright. Then he saw who it was and his terror turned to annoyance.
"Jonathan! There you are. I've been looking all over for you! Where have you…" Suddenly the Master of Fear lurched toward him, grabbing the Riddler's shoulder and tried to bodily drag him towards the back of the lair. Jonathan was still weak, but Eddie was so shocked, that he offered little resistance. Then his brain caught up with his body. "Jonathan, what are you doing?" he exclaimed, trying to break free of the taller man's grip. The Scarecrow was having none of it. The harder the Riddler struggled, the tighter Jonathan's grip became. "We have to get out of here." he stated simply, stumbling as he dragged Eddie to the back door of the lair. "Now."
Still stunned, the Riddler just managed to snatch his hat and cane before Jonathan pushed him out the door.