Sunday, November, 1stst, 2025, 07:35
Edward Nygma sits at the kitchen table reading the newspaper, saving his crossword puzzle as his last prize. The coffee percolates near him as he turns the page, its smell wafting through the apartment. His lovely Eliza will be home from work soon, and he wants to surprise her with breakfast. So he sits, waiting for his caffeine to drip and for the bacon to cook in the oven. When she gets home, he will make eggs and toast so it will be fresh and warm. She likes her eggs over medium so that she can sop the yolk with her buttered toast.
For the last few months, he has been laying low in his girlfriend's apartment, trying to avoid being caught as he plans his next big move. No one, not even the Batman would suspect his location. No one knows about Eliza. No one knows about their relationship. No one knows about her sway on him. If they did, then they would use her against him, something he is acutely aware of. He disdains the newfound weakness but refuses to leave their relationship unexplored. He is selfish like that
It has been a quiet time. Edward is ashamed to admit that it has been kind of nice: no injuries, no risks of being caught, no Batman, no gangs, no idiots. Just him and his girl. He knows it will not always be this way. He knows he will eventually get stir-crazy. He is itching to get back to his schemes. There are still corrupt imbeciles to punish and a Dynamic Duo to challenge.
But for now, he enjoys the domestic limbo with Elizabeth Louise Tucker, RN, BSN.
He looks at the ticking clock and sees that it is getting closer to eight in the morning. She should be home by now.
Part of him worries that something could have happened. Last night was Halloween, Scarecrow's Night. He warned her that the evening would likely culminate in many psychiatric emergencies and even tried to convince her to call in to avoid any injuries or harm. She refused to heed his warning, arguing that it was her duty to serve the public no matter the circumstances. Her stubborn dedication to serving others is annoying and admirable. It is something that he appreciates about her but something he can never hope to understand.
The door to the apartment finally budges open, signaling the return of his favorite obsession. He folds his newspaper and puts on the best tender smile he can manage for his weary nurse. Edward stands to meet his woman halfway. He stopped short of taking her into his arms when he rounded the corner.
Something is wrong.
He cannot help when his face falls into its natural, cold, calculating disposition.
Eliza looks stricken and pale. She looks shifty and uncomfortable as she fumbles to remove her backpack and strip off her belongings from her person: watch, phone, coat, etc. She seems dazed, lost in thought, and only acknowledges Edward when she rises from removing her shoes and socks.
"My sweet nurse, what is wrong?"
Edward strides forward to gather the woman in his arms, to which she surrenders listlessly. He brings a hand to her chin and tilts her face to his, a delicate move that he knows makes her shiver every time. Eliza's eyes search his, trying to find what she wants to say. She is confused and unsure how to verbalize her thoughts and feelings.
"Talk to me," Edward's other hand gently massages her lower back, knowing that area is generally a sore spot for her after work.
"I think someone was following me on the way home."
The Rogue is unsure what he expected her to say, but it definitely is not that. It is eight in the morning. Typically, stalking is done at night with the cover and safety of darkness to hide the perpetrator. He would know. Although he does admit he did the same in broad daylight when she met up with her brother all those months ago. . . The idea of her being followed by someone else causes the Riddler to clench his jaw.
She is his.
Attempting to calm her, Edward runs his fingers through her soft, bleached blonde hair. It is a little longer now, having grown past her jaw but only barely. She kept her roots bleached, enjoying the new look still. He misses her dark chocolate locks but he would not tell her that. She was right in telling him it was her choice. She seems happy with it and more confident, so he will not ruin that for her.
"Did you see someone?"
Her face twists into something akin to sad anxiety.
"No - not at first," she bites her lip, contemplating her next words.
"Last night, I felt something weird, too—just that unnerved feeling of being followed. I hurried to work and didn't think much of it. As you had said, Halloween would be a strange night. I just figured it had something to do with that. But. . ."
She trails off and looks away, unsure if she wants to tell her what she saw. It could have been a trick of her mind.
"But?" He encouraged her with a cocked eyebrow.
"I think I saw someone in a black top hat."
He does not lower his brow.
"A top hat?"
She nods meekly and looks at him doefully.
"Yeah, a top hat. I know it's weird but it's the only thing I saw. I stopped to look behind me and saw a tophat peaking out from behind a trash bin."
"My dear, are you sure it was not just a hat someone at thrown away?"
Eliza, feeling hurt and frustrated, tore away from the man holding her to cross her arms, much to Edward's surprise.
"I knew you would not believe me. I shouldn't have said anything."
She whirls on him, emerald eyes flaring, poking a finger in his chest, "But mark my words; you will be distraught if something were to happen to me and you didn't believe me."
Edward, hands up in mock surrender, grins sheepishly.
"I'm sorry. You're right," he touches her elbow and pulls her close to him without resistance.
"I would be very distraught if someone were to steal you from me or hurt you. You're mine", he reminds her with a dangerous edge in his voice.
Eliza relaxes in his hold and lays her head against his chest, and he rests his chin atop her crown. What to do? It is likely best to distract her for now and deal with this situation later. He can tell she is tired from the events of the evening and her normal work stress.
He really wishes she would stop working. Edward promised he would care for her, and she would want nothing for the rest of her life. Eliza refused, of course. She, again, argued that she loved her job, no matter how hard and stress-inducing it was. She would not ever leave her job as a nurse, but she did say he might be able to convince her to leave the ER. There are dangerous criminals who come through there after all. . .
"Do I smell bacon," she asks quietly beneath him, causing him to smile.
He taps her nose jovially, "Your nose is correct! Are you hungry, Eliza?"
She leans back to look at him with a tired smile, "Yes, I'm tired and hungry. A horrible combination, Eddie."
Edward chuckles and briefly kisses her plush lips before pulling her towards the kitchen.
"Well, let's get you fed, and then we will deal with the sleep part."
Not one to refuse food or sleep, Eliza nods and follows him to the kitchen, where he pulls the bacon out just before the timer goes off.
In their comfort, they both are quiet, with the nurse watching as this criminal cooks her a simple breakfast. She finds it amusing that she has swayed him just enough that he would want to take care of her like this. She knows this will not last forever. She knows there may be a day in the near future when she is alone in her apartment once more, waiting with her balcony unlocked, hoping for him to drop in.
Alone in her thoughts, she knows there will be a day when he is captured by Batman once more and trucked back to Arkham. She knows this to be fact.
Edward places two plates on the table, one in front of her and one in front of him. Before he sits down, he pours himself a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice for her.
For now, Eliza will enjoy these fleeting moments of a life that can never be.
What is the final whisper in the tale's soft breeze?
A closure wrapped in mystery,
Yet to appease?
It ties the threads of fate,
With wisdom's might.
In the book of life,
It's the story's last light.