Disc: don't own Jonathan, Eddie, and I most certainly do not own Lock-Up
Edward Nygma still didn't know what had happened to the Master of Fear, and yet, he felt sorry for the man. Jonathan looked so broken, even more-so than when Eddie had dragged him from the streets and nursed him back to health. Crane sat at the small table in the kitchen, head in his hands, staring blankly at the opposite wall. After a few minutes, he sighed and looked at the Riddler. "I suppose I should begin, then?"
"Whenever you're ready."
Jonathan nodded and began to speak.
"I was going home an different way because I'd heard the Batman was near my usual route. On my way, I saw something shadowy and figured I'd better get out of the way in case it was a bat. Now I realize how stupid I was…it could've been nothing more than a bum…anyway, I ducked into an alley and kept walking. Wasn't the smartest thing I could've done. Alleys are always full of bad things, and in Gotham they're usually worse. But it was late and I was tired. And it seemed normal enough at first. A few rats and two or three dumpsters, nothing unusual.
Until they came."
The Master of Fear paused his narration for a minute, sipping at some coffee from a mug on the table. Eddie bit his lip to keep from asking who 'they' were and waited.
"It's a good thing that I kept my guard up," Jonathan continued, "or they would have killed me right then. Massive brutes. Smart, too. Not often that you get that combination."
The Riddler could contain himself no longer. "What did they do? Do you know who they were?"
Jonathan held up a hand. "Be patient. I'll tell you what I can, just let me talk. As I was saying, there were five huge men-they all wore gas masks and all of them knew how to fight. They smashed me pretty badly- you saw it."
Eddie raised an eyebrow. "But if they were so smart and could fight on top of it, why didn't they kill you?"
Jonathan shrugged. "'Smart' is a relative term, Eddie. I meant street-smart. As in, they might not have been straight A students, but they didn't have the IQ of rocks, either. And anyhow, I think they thought I was dead."
The Riddler leaned forward, intrigued. "Really?"
The Master of Fear nodded. "Yes, the way I saw it, them being as large as they were, and knowing how to fight, my only chance was to lie down and pretend I wasn't breathing. Play 'possum', if you will. They must have bought it, because I was unconscious shortly after the idea entered my brain. When I woke up, I saw green walls and question marks and knew where I was."
Eddie nodded, giving the Scarecrow a half-smile. "And yet, for all that, you were still mad."
Jonathan averted his gaze, going slightly red as he ran a hand through his hair. "More embarrassed than angry, I think. I had figured that if I survived my ordeal, I'd simply go home, lick my wounds, and heal without anyone knowing of my humiliation."
"Jonathan," Eddie said bluntly, "if you had tried to drag yourself home, you'd be dead right now, or worse. And even if by some miracle you did make it home, that thug that attacked me earlier this morning would have killed you easily in your weakened state."
Jonathan looked at the Riddler for a few minutes, then smiled. "You're right. I..um…don't remember thanking you…"
Eddie grinned. "No thanks needed, Jonathan! Now we have a grand mystery on our hands! Who is hunting you? And why?"