Disc: don't own Gotham, Metropolis, Jonathan, Eddie, or other characters.
The room was dark, but for some reason, Jonathan Crane could still see the man in chains at its center. The Master of Fear couldn't see who it was at first, as the man had his back to Jonathan. Another man, larger than the shackled one, stood above the first man, wielding some sort of club. The larger man hit the smaller one over and over until the first man crumpled to the ground, chains clanking around him. But for all this, he made no sound. Jonathan watched in horror, trying to cry out, stop the smaller man's torment, but he couldn't. Suddenly, he realized that everything had gone from black and white to color. The large man wore a light blue outfit with black accents, and the smaller…Jonathan struggled to see. Needed to see.
Suddenly the chained man turned, looking directly at the Master of Fear. His face held a mixture of anger and fear, as well as an accusing glare.
'This is your fault' he seemed to say and the Scarecrow realized with a start that the beaten man's clothing was a brilliant shade of green.
Jonathan Crane sat bolt upright, the sheets of his bed tangled around him and his skin damp with cold sweat. "Just a dream…" he mumbled to himself as he tried to stop his hands from shaking. He said it again, louder this time, needing to hear the sound of his own voice. Something real. "Just a dream…"
But the reality was far worse.
The Master of Fear ran both hands over his face and slid out of bed, feeling far too awake, even though it was one in the afternoon. He should have been exhausted. And he had been, a few hours ago. Anxious to find anything that could help him find the Riddler, Jonathan had stolen a car and then driven through the night to get back to Gotham City. It had been dawn when he reached his lair, and there had been no problems with his insomnia when he crawled, clothes and all into bed, pausing only to discard his shirt as he lay down.
Now, he went to the door, intending to go out immediately and seek information in the Narrows. He placed his hand on the doorknob, then stopped.
It was light out. And by unspoken mutual consent, most people in the darker parts of the Narrows did not conduct 'business' until after dark. The Master of Fear pulled at the sleeve of his tattered leather jacket, and suddenly realized that he was wearing the same clothes from two nights ago. And while all of the dust and traces of blood on his clothing may serve to make him look 'tough' to the people of 'downtown', the filth made Jonathan feel suddenly shabby and decidedly unkempt. Taking his hand off the doorknob, the Master of Fear went into the other room to shower and change.
He glanced at the clock on his way to the bathroom. Night could not fall fast enough.
?
A small spider inched its way along the wall towards Edward Nygma's face. He blew at it half-heartedly and coughed, glancing blearily around again at the blackness that surrounded him. The Riddler had long since awakened from his pain and drug-induced stupor, but the second he opened his eyes, his mouth and nose were covered with a strong smelling rag filled with chloroform. The next thing he knew, he was chained against a damp, cold wall. It was pitch black at first, but as his eyes adjusted, Eddie had begun to see the outline of bricks around him and small things near him, like the spider, which seemed to have been deliberating whether or not the Riddler was worth climbing over for the past hour. Eddie knew he was in a cell, but he still had no idea where the cell was, or if anyone was around. He could only guess as to Bolton, a.k.a. 'Lockup's, location was, but he was pretty sure he was close. After all, his thugs had been responsible for bringing Eddie here…at least he was pretty sure of that.
The Riddler wasn't too clear on most things at the moment, mostly just the aching of his wounds, the steady, draining pain of filling his lungs with oxygen, and the spider.
And of course Jonathan.
Eddie shook his head, then wished he hadn't as pain surged through his neck. Jonathan was ok. He had to be. At least, that's what the Riddler had been telling himself for the past hour. He hoped the Master of Fear wasn't in worse condition than himself.
The Prince of Puzzles shifted slightly, trying to find a better position, but, forced to stand in one place, as he was chained by his wrists and ankles to the wall, there was really no way to get more comfortable.
The spider on the wall ceased its deliberation and began to crawl across the Riddler's chest, which was bare now and covered in places by haphazard bandaging. Eddie closed his eyes as he felt the brush of the creature's small feet prickle his skin. If Jonathan was looking for him, he hoped he'd come soon.
a/n: so sorry this chapter is late! More soon and as always, thanks so much for the reviews! And I apologize if the story seems to be stuck again, it's really not. I'm building up to something, you'll see. Thanks again!