DISC: I don't own jonathan, eddie, or gotham
Edward Nygma lay on his side and stared at the crack of light beneath the door by his bed. He could hear the creaking of the floor-boards outside as Jonathan paced back and forth. The Riddler ached mentally. He wished he knew what was going on. He ached physically too, from his back's rather unorthodox meeting with the terribly solid wall of the kitchen. His mind flashed back to Jonathan gently and silently bandaging his various wounds and then softly, yet firmly telling Eddie to go lie down. His voice had brooked no argument and the Riddler had gone willingly, still somewhat in a daze. But now that the shock had worn off, he wished he would have asked some questions. Eddie hated not knowing what was happening. Carefully, he tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed and sit up, then winced as he felt a few of his cuts reopen. Sighing, he returned to his former position. Like it or not, he'd have to wait for answers.
?
The Master of Fear frowned and ran his hands absentmindedly through his hair as he paced back and forth near the Riddler's room. The thug, who had been tossed uncaringly in the corner, whimpered softly. Jonathan whirled on the man, his eyes snapping viciously. "Shut up." The thug squeezed his eyes shut, and bit his lower lip, a small tear appearing in the corner of his left eye.
"Sniveling idiot." Jonathan spat, aiming a kick at the man's shin. How dare he come into his house and think he could just smack Nygma around to get to him? He was working for someone…but who?
Someone wanted the Master of Fear dead, that much was certain. Jonathan mentally went through a list of his enemies.
Batman…no, he wouldn't send a thug…Fright…no, she was hiding behind her precious Black Mask…
He went down his mental list until he'd run out of names. Each one was either busy, or hadn't been heard from in years, some were even dead or presumed dead. There was no one else. Unless…
Jonathan stopped pacing.
No.
Not him.
It couldn't be him.
His mind flashed back involuntarily to Arkham. To that tiny cold cell…the beatings…the hunger…electrified bars and continual shock-therapy…and a looming figure dressed in a blue suit and laughing…laughing…
Without knowing how he got there, Jonathan found himself sitting on the floor, his spindly arms clutching his knees to his chest. The thug was staring at him.
"What are you looking at?" the Master of Fear snarled, and the man instantly shut his eyes again, moaning softly. Jonathan got to his feet and shook his head. There was only one thing to do.
?
Eddie was still staring at the crack of light under the door when the door opened, and Jonathan stepped in. "Feeling better?" he asked, the light spilling into the dark room around him making his thin figure look like a black outline. The Riddler nodded, squinting.
"Good. I need you to break into Arkham's computer system."