An All Too Familiar Terror [Nigma]

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

It had been a long time since he’d been to this dusty bar on the darker side of East Gotham. They still allowed him his own booth in the back and the barkeep unscrewed the light before he sat down. He must have become tired of losing light bulbs, and eventually just started doing it himself to save money. Dr. Crane didn’t care, as long as he didn’t have to deal with a spotlight overhead. The bar was still just as bustling and full as it ever was, men from all walks of poverty stumbling all over the bar. They spilled their drinks and laughed as they played pool. Most of them never noticed him come in and sit down.

He flipped out his phone again knowing that something was wrong. Edward….Nigma was never late….But they weren’t on the best of terms either. It was a neutral place to meet and he had never denied meeting him before. Besides, he had something that he knew that Nigma wanted and needed more of. The issue was that he wasn’t here and he was supposed to be. It was impossible for him to be late, so the only other option was that he was already here, doing something, plotting something. His finger ran around the screen of his phone before he closed it and put it away again.

His eyes wandered to the drink on his table. It had begun to sweat with how long he had let it sit there. Dr. Crane ordered a traditional scotch on the rocks as he always had but he had only taken two sips of it. After Nigma decided to be late he stopped drinking it completely. It wasn’t because he was paranoid, he just remembered what happened last time and Nigma wasn’t exactly level with him at the moment. But it would all change eventually for better or for worse. For now he knew he had him still, because he needed what he had.

Nigma would have already been missing that sharp prick on his spine that sent him to bliss within the world. It was a false feeling of course but if it gave him a temporary ability to speak it would be worth it to him. There was a sense of responsibility he had for what had happened to him and that he planned on fixing. It was the least he could do…..

But like many things with Dr. Crane everything came with an exterior motive. His fingers began to tap on the table as he waited for him to arrive. It was ten minutes passed now. Was this a ditch effort to torture him? It wouldn’t work. He didn’t understand how Edward thought it would. If he never showed up he would simply get up, take what he had and leave. But he knew he’d come….He wanted this.

[Deleted]

Dr. Crane was correct. Edward Nigma was never late. He had received the message and understood exactly what the man hoped to accomplish. As the hours ticked into days, he had caught the signs in his body. He had started to shiver in a sweat at night, his body desiring the heaviness followed the flightless feeling that occurred with whatever Dr. Crane had injected straight into his bloodstream. The world almost seemed to be moving too fast, and his body wanted to slow it down, slow it down and relax.

While his body craved for it, Edward was far too logical to become a random junkie. He knew he was going through withdrawal, and if it was this bad after only the first dose, he could imagine how terrible withdrawal would be after months of using the drug. The idea of being able to speak certainly was tempting, but he would have to find another solution to that dreadful incident.

He had other reasons for attending the little meeting the Scarecrow decided to set up. The man had betrayed him….worse, he had made him feel foolish, and Edward was no fool.

Edward stood in the alley across from the Stack Deck. There was an edge about his current appearance. His skin was coated with sweat from the lack of the addictive drug, and his hand twitched at his side. His suit was a disheveled mess and his socks were mismatched. The only reason someone might recognize him as the Riddler was the undone question mark tie hanging around his neck. He took a deep drag of the cigarette in his hand, as Allen held onto a young woman. His big hand wrapped tightly over her mouth. Edward didn’t say anything, not that he could speak accurate sentences, but on his side hanged an object that looked like a keyboard or calculator attached to small speakers. He had made it to keep him distracted from the need for the drug that made his fingers twitch on the cigarette, though it had helped with his current predicament.

Deidre walked into the bar with her skin tight green outfit, a black question mark plaster on her breast. She walked right up to the Scarecrow, chomping on her gum. “Got a message for ya, Johnny,” she blew the gum, popping it right into his ear as her hand slammed down on the bar. Her eyes glanced over the smucks who were eating her up. You wish, boys. She smirked. She hadn’t worn this outfit in a long time, but the Boss was going through rough times and Nina was still no fun with her boyfriend. Deidre wanted to help Eddie out. It was the least she could do. She pulled the gum out of her mouth, stretching it with her teeth and pulling it to the Scarecrow’s hair. “You got gum in your hair. Ya should fix that,” she spat it at him, not liking the man at all. In the old days, the Scarecrow had been okay. She never had a problem, but he messed with her Boss. Ya don’t do that. Her freshly manicured finger nails left the message on the bar as she walked out.

It wasn’t written in Edward’s handwriting, but an elegant scrawl of a woman.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Underneath the message was a picture of a girl that would be extremely familiar to Dr. Crane’s past. It was a picture of Sherry Squires.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Luckily Dr. Crane was a patient man, but he couldn’t sit here forever. He had just about had enough waiting until He spotted that special colored green that no one could mistake. From the state of the men’s jaws in the room, it was confirmed that she was one of his. The doctor had seen her around, but as dull and dim witted as she was he’d never cared to speak to her for any reason. There was a reason why henchmen stayed henchmen and died that way. They were never smart enough to rise above it.

He didn’t move with the loud pop came to his ear more than a fraction of an inch and when her hand came down he moved even less. His eyes stayed stoic and solid as she whimsy and whisked around him to get his attention. But she wouldn’t have it and she could not keep it the more she tried. The annoying sticky piece of waste she put into his unkempt hair wasn’t even enough to pull him from his stare straight forward. She would gain nothing from him.

What did Edward think he would gain from sending her instead of himself? Did he really begin to fear him so much more after he’d taken such precious things from him? The intent was never there, but he would never admit that now, it was a better move to take fault for it. The thought of Edward not coming himself caused his fist to curl against the table and then run through his hair to rip and toss the gum out. It didn’t hurt and he didn’t acknowledge that she walked away.

The paper that she’d slammed in front of him finally caught his slowly downward moving gaze. His body felt stiff and his heart stopped in one frozen beat. In one shoot through time his mind brought him back to the sunny day he had spent with her….How he admired her so and dreamed about her smile. Her long flowing golden hair was richer than the wheat fields he grew up in. She was perfect from head to toe, no flaws to be found in one single pore on her body. In the perfect world as he knew it in that moment that he was there with her she would have been his. He would have found a way to have her forever. That beautiful smile as enough to put the suns light to shame.

But….He was wrong…

Suddenly he rushed back to the reality of the bar around him and found himself staring at the picture of the girl who ruined him. But he got everything back, instead of her being the ruiner she became the ruined. But if that was the case how was this picture sitting here. How did Edward know about her? His eyes shot back and forth and his hands trembled as he clutched the picture in his grasp. He had to know….How did he know? What did he have? And why was he showing him this?

The doctor stood up before his body could fidget any longer and took off after the slender form that swayed in green. When his mind revisited the day it felt like an eternity of staring at Sherri but he knew it was only moments that passed. He knew that he was walking the path that Edward wanted him to, he knew now why he had sent the slow woman to do his work for him. He never wanted the drug at all, he wanted his retribution….and he didn’t need words…A picture was worth a thousand of them. He felt himself being sucked back into Edward’s world of Riddles, but this time he had grasped onto a secret that was so beyond what he was capable of understanding, no matter how much he pried him apart with ropes or chains....or hands.

The doctor exited the bar, following her form directly across the street. The first thing that caught his eyes was a glimpse of golden locks that flung into the ray of a streetlight before it flooded into the shadows behind. It was impossible… It couldn’t have been her. The gunshots went off over and over again in his mind. He remembered the sweet symphony of her begging for her life after she watched her boyfriend die. But then he saw Edward….Backing into the alley behind.

She was the lure…And he was making sure she was leading him to him.

But Dr. Crane didn’t care; it was bait he had to follow. She couldn’t be alive, it was impossible, even for Edward Nigma. He didn’t bother exchanging words....He had a feeling Edward didn’t have much to say in return….regardless.

[Deleted]

Edward leaned against the dirty brick of the alley wall, his eyes looking at the girl hidden by the shadows of the darkness. He could see the fear in her eyes as tears dripped down on Allen’s hand. The girl knew nothing of fear. Edward had stepped into it. He had seen it, witnessed it, felt its cruel plots, and personally, at the end, he thought fear was absolutely over rated. Fear was irrational and had no place on his chess board. It would be eliminated. Edward would not be pulled into something so idiotic ever again.

He could hear the loud clicking sounds of Deidre’s heels against the pavement of the street. He knew what was to follow that sound. Mice followed their mazes perfectly when set with the right incentive. Edward didn’t turn to look. He kept his eyes on the girl’s. He brought the cigarette up to his lips, taking a long drag as Deidre walked to his side, turning and pointing her gun at the man that followed her.

Edward didn’t need to look up to feel the stare of his eyes or the intensity of his presence. He withdrew the cigarette from his lips, leaning his head back onto the alley wall and breathing the heavy smoke into the air. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep calming breath, settling the nerves of the withdrawal before flicking the bud of his cigarette in the Scarecrow’s direction. Straw burns after all. It burns quickly.

The silence lingered on. Silence that Edward hated because it only held as a constant reminder to what that man and that woman had done to him, but instead releasing rage his lips tilted into a sly smirk. He opened his eyes and turned his head slightly, to lock his eyes on his deep cold blue ones.

His fingers at his side near the device that appeared like a keyboard, but only held numbers, started to press into each button. It was quick as if it had become natural. The voice that sounded out of the machine was cold and mechanic, like the brother of Siri.

“I. Found. Something. Of. Yours.”

His head nodded to the girl in Allen’s grip.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

The doctor pressed forward, calculated and cold. Edward had his fun and now it was over. He had offered him an escape from his blight and now he intended to mock him, to pull this up from his past and make it something it wasn’t. Just how was he planning on using this against him, did it even matter? His eyes kept shooting to the shadow of the woman struggling in someone else’s firm hands. It was impossible; the gunshot rang in his head over and over and the ones to follow. He watched her scream, he watched the blood come up through her mouth and pour onto her prom dress as her boyfriend lay dead next to her with a bullet in his head. There was no way she was alive.

So how did Edward manage to bring someone back from the dead? He couldn’t have, it wasn’t real. Regardless he had his attention and he was listening very closely at this point. As for the woman that came up to him previously he had nothing to say to her. He lost any and all little respect he had the moment she called him by a name that wasn’t his. He wouldn’t forget that she’d done that either, but right now she didn’t matter to him. Edward was his focal point and it was going to remain that way, it was what he wanted after all.

Why shouldn’t he give Edward what he wanted at this moment, now that he had his attention? Whatever genuine smiles or laughter that they had shared in the past few months had went up in smoke with what had happened and he knew that he felt the same. That was always their problem, too alike and far too different. But Dr. Crane saw more of what Edward feared than anyone, he knew who Edward was and in turn he had done the same to him. There was no one who knew him more intimately in his mind. Those dark secrets that were ripped from each other were still within both of them and revealed the biggest parts of them. But this…..Edward was after something so much more with this.

He watched the smoke stream from his mouth and eventually gather over the gun pointed at him. The gun didn’t intimidate him and it never would. He had no reason to want to get shot however so there was no reason to push it further than it needed to go. Edward really did stoop lower than before if he had resulted to killing his lungs, he knew he’d never be able to keep up with him again, it was a shame. Did he really think he would be able to keep up with anyone like that? Or was this is desperate attempt to cover the fact that he was terrified of never regaining what he’d lost? Or was this his demand to fix it on his terms.

When their eyes met he finally halted, at least two and a half arm lengths away. There was no reason to position himself any closer to the weapon than he had to be and he had no reason to continue forward unless he planned to take Edward by the neck against the wall. It was a tempting thought, but he held it at bay for the moment. The callus and lifeless voice from the machine almost made the doctor cringe. It drained him, it wasn’t him but Edward was coping with what he had. “Nigma….I see you’ve gotten your voice back, or at least someone else’s. But I can assure you whatever you have there is not…mine.” His eyes wanted to shift away to the struggling woman, but they didn’t, they remained focused on his. The picture was enough to have his attention and keep it, how he ever found out about what happened there was beyond him. As far as he had gone back to cover it; it was nearly impossible for him to find out. “Considering what you had done to ruin me prior I would say that this brings us to the line.” He took a bold step forward and covered the distance of those two arm lengths.”I would say we’re even Nigma and it’s now to be left alone…You should accept the drug until a way can be found to restore you and call it Even.” He leaned in to half of that half he had left between them.

“Even Steven”

[Deleted]

Edward appeared unusually calm even in his disheveled fashion, except for the quiet underlining rage that rolled off of him like a reoccurring wave onto the shore, a rage that pushed into Scarecrow with each step the man took closer to him.

Yes, Edward and this man had a physical interaction in the past. Yes, Edward had almost played with the idea of them being mutual…friends of sort. Yes, Edward had even possibly trusted him. However, if Edward were to admit such a trust, he would be admitting to the fact that the man before him had actually managed to trick him, to fool him, to make him feel like an outright idiots, and the one thing Edward never liked to feel like was an idiot.

Whatever had happened before, and whatever possible emotions that had been in play had been burned to the ground, and would be forgotten. The only thing he wanted from the man before him was simple justice, and what better way to provide justice then to drag the man’s failure into his face.

Edward had found out about the little sweet high school crush shortly after their riddle together. It didn’t take much information to deduce the city the Scarecrow had grown up in, and oh, the stories that had come from that small little town during the time that the Scarecrow was present. Of course, no one knew the true culprit of the devastating actions of prom night, but a genius mind like Edward’s could easily put together the pieces of that simple puzzle. Did the Scarecrow take a page out of Steven King’s book Carrie?

The girl in Allen’s arms was obviously not the same, nor did he want it to be the same, however, make up, hair die, and costume design, can easily create a false image of the past. It was all he needed and based with how purposefully the Scarecrow was not looking at her, he knew it had gotten underneath his skin.

The distance between them quickly evaporated, and while in the past that could pull at some hidden desire, now, it only humored him. His last statement causing him to laugh out loud. Even Steven? Did he truly believe they were even?! He had betrayed him, thrown him to wolves, and given his voice up for sell. No, not just his voice, but his written language, his words, his most precious talent. He had destroyed him in a way no other person in his past had. He could think of the people who had come into his life and ruined him, but none had been able to take something so valuable away from him. Even his leg. He would take the pain in his leg back to merely feel the taste of words on his lips once more.

The Edward Nigma before him was a different man then the man before. A man who had walked through hell and survived. A man who planned to kill the demons who had dragged him there, and one of those demons stood in front of him.

His fingers moved at his side, and the robotic voice spoke in the bland way robotic voices speak. “But the game is just beginning,” he smirked. He rolled his head on the wall, his back almost arching in a way that made their chest barely touch. He didn’t take note to it. He merely glanced at Allen, who understood.

Allen’s hand slipped off the girl’s sobbing mouth. She was still whimpering and crying, but she shouted to the Scarecrow. “Jonathan, please! I love you! Please help me!” the girl cried, just as she was ordered too.

“How sweet,” Edward chuckled after his mechanical voice spoke.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Dr. Crane could see Edward, and what was more is he could see through Edward. It was what drew them apart against all odds, the desire to figure out the other. The doctor believed he had all the answers to him, even now he could feel the tension in the air that was only brought forward by Edward’s anxieties. He may never get his voice back, he may never experience the feeling that he had before….whatever that was. The thought frustrated him, it was something he pulled away from, it was something he wouldn’t talk about. It was something that was long buried, dug up fresh because of the man that used the support of the ally wall to hold him up. It was something that he had gone to extreme lengths to disprove…and he had earned the result.

But despite his recent revelations the fact still remained that Edward was here, in front of him, a voiceless man a powerless man. Yet he was still willing to walk the lion’s cage, still willing to prowl back and forth bating his breath in challenge. He had not backed down and the fear that drove him would only strength his will to continue until there would be nothing left in the lion’s den but whatever pieces and scraps are left of each other. There was a fleeting moment, where Dr. Crane wanted to consider Edward his only friend, but it simply wasn’t true. Friendship didn’t exist. The lines were drawn between them and here they paced, ready to cross the boundary again.

Edward showed his crown.

It had always been a game of wits with them, a logical game of chess that was moved piece by piece. Edward was proactive and took time to make several steps ahead. Dr. Crane was reactive but well prepared. He had seen the deepest fears in man, he knew the core, the plight of the soul and he knew how it worked. The twist and toil between then couldn’t be unbound, as they were destined to be at odds. Edward on one side of the scale and Dr. Crane on the other. The effort to come to the middle resulted to the scales falling…It was a fools errand. Forever they were meant to be on these scales, one tip after another, perfect opposites, and perfect rivals. The doctor would never say these things to Edward, or anyone….Because they didn’t need to be said, they were mutually understood. But what he had done had broken a link in the scale…

He tried to put her out of his sight as he stared at Edward. It was the only thing that he could manage to put between him and that memory that sufficed enough to distract him from it. The robotic tone that left him only reminded Dr. Crane of what he had done the beauty and the consequence that came with his experiment. The fear that left Edward’s throat when he had been given the drug and the refusal to take it earlier were more testaments to his character. The effort to remain in control of his experiment was pressing him forward, even into this. His eyes followed the roll of his head that led to the arch in his form. His skeletal form barely reached Edward’s before it was gone. He rolled his lip under and wet his lips to speak but before he could he heard the girl cry out.

Ever so slight the twitch….that pull…that came to his shoulder and forced his body to look toward the frantic woman. Visions of Sherri flashed through his mind, her golden hair, her curved figure, he perfect smile, her sweet voice. She was everything that was good and whole on the earth, the only thing that could redeem him from the life he had come to know as truth. But….She was a façade. His eyes traveled to the rim of Edward’s pants where he knew underneath would be a perfectly lined pistol, loaded and ready to fire. He could throw him against the wall, grab it before his assistant could interrupt and do it again……The gunshot rang over and over again in his mind. Bang….Bang……And she would fall before him again, everything that had shown him who people really were. What their true intentions were within. How the aspect of one human being “kind” or affectionate to another was a farse that he couldn’t adhere to. She was all that was ugly in the world and he had rid of it. He could do it again….It would be so easy to drop the girl to her knees. But Edward didn’t understand, he never would…The lion would stalk but never understand. If he wanted to dive into the recesses of his mind then it would be is end….and he would give him what he asked for.

How sweet.

The words echoed in his head and drug his eyes back up to Edward’s. His movement became ridged and unstable in front of them as he met face to face with the man whom thought he had control once more. “Stripped down, as far as I can tell there is nothing left…” He spoke softly and clearly, there was nothing in his voice but emptiness and his cryptics rang through. He knew what needed to be done, it was their song….the only path that would lead them, right where they belonged. Far less stable than before, the doctor rushed his weight to Edward, but made no effort to impact. Instead he left himself a microscopic distance away. His eyes were focused and predatory, as if they had found what they were meant to devour. Instead his weight had shifted to his hand which fell inches from Edward’s face to support him. With his right he made a grab for Edward’s gun and once he felt it he ripped back.

But he wasn’t king.

Any other time he would have told Edward of his unfortunate mistake, the night in the lab, the night at the hotel. He had underestimated his ability to use these things against him. But this time he was wrong and he would be wrong about everything. He would take the hold and he would break it. There was nothing left of this place! There was nothing left! All that remained for them was fear and despair…..And how could it be any other way?

The disheveled Dr. Crane stepped back, gun in hand and pointed it at the woman that haunted him. But instead of pulling the trigger, instead of ending it all again he pulled the barrel back and pointed it at his own head.

"You're in my world now."

[Deleted]

Edward had learned much about the man before him during the many years they had known one another. He certainly tested him, tested his ability of control and stability. The man constantly caught him off guard, constantly threw something so unexpected into the mix that it made him half to completely rework everything he had been planning. It would be like playing monopoly with a child and instead following the rules, they merely decided to flip the board over and create an entirely different game. It had enticed him, thrilled him to no end. He had to admit, he never considered himself bored around him. He never considered anything physical, but even that had gotten thrown in, but no, it was different now.

Edward knew the Scarecrow. Edward understood how his mind worked, and now, just like everyone else, he was predictable, and in that way boring and pointless in his life. He had no use for him anymore.

He had arched his back ever so slightly because he knew it would attract Dr. Crane’s attention. He might have used those same physical needs against him, but Edward knew the man lusted for him. He knew his eyes would eventually fall downward, and he knew he would be reminded of the gun, he always kept at his waist band. After all, Dr. Crane had pulled out his gun on multiple occasions and pointed it at Edward.

He also knew what had happened to this poor girl from his past. He saw the police photos, the disturbing sight of her brains and blood against the leather of the limo. He knew how her life ended, and he planned for this same woman’s life to end the same way. Let the Scarecrow fall into the trap of his own making. It was like watching a mouse follow his maze. He almost had no control over himself, and to be honest, Edward was enjoying it greatly. The way he almost seemed in a panic, his eyes hazing over, his form turning into a mess. Oh yes, this was the revenge he was after, and he planned for it to get much worse before there was ever a sign of a light.

He felt the gun slip from his form, he didn’t fight it. He merely watched as the man took a hold of the gun with great force and stumble back, likely in a similar fashion he had been on his prom night. Young and inexperienced.

The gun pointed to the girl, and neither Allen nor Deidre took action to stop him. They all had been informed on how Edward wanted this to play out. They were only here to help him contain it.

It was beautiful.

He waited to hear the shot fire, as the woman cried, telling the Scarecrow how much she cared for him, how much she loved him, to please not shoot. Edward would have laughed, if he wasn’t so focus on the scene.

And then as expected, the Scarecrow threw wrench in his plan, completely turning the game around, but since he knew Dr. Crane would do something like this, it didn’t falter him one bit. He watched the man hold the gun to his own head.

If anything, this was better than his previous plan. He felt no guilt in the Scarecrow ending his own life. He deserved to face death, he deserved even worse than death, but Edward was not a murderer, and he wouldn’t outright kill him, but he wouldn’t stop him, if Jonathan wished to do it himself.

He chuckled lightly, his suit was drenched in sweat, not from the scene or the heat, but from the remaining effect of the drug. He shifted on the wall, his fingers moving to his machine, but his eyes never leaving the Scarecrow, Dr. Crane….Jonathan.

No, they never left him, as he mouthed the words with his machine.

“Are you afraid to pull the trigger?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, mocking him for his views on the world, for his life, his stupid life that had to invade and touch his. It meant nothing to him. He didn’t even deserve to have a place in his memories, and yet this despicable shadow had attached to him like cancer. Oh, please, pull the trigger, let me watch you destroy yourself, as you have destroyed me. He thought darkly.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Dr. Crane had already told himself what had happened between them and what was going to happen now. He had only proved to himself what he knew was true, was still true and Edward wasn’t an exception to that rule, no one was. He wasn’t beyond it he wasn’t above it and everything that he was doing now showed it. Every action, every step he took was a beautiful show that was molded from the very thing that made him what he was, and Edward Nigma would never see passed his own ego to embrace it. He blinded himself with the illusion that he understood something that simply wasn’t there. But he had offered to show him more, and thus been denied his gift.

He felt the cold barrel of the gun against his temple. The nerves on his skin jumped and moved as he rubbed, like scratching an itch and getting satisfaction. His finger held steady over the trigger, though he looked all but stable. In his mind he only held one truth to be crystal clear and it was the one that would pave the way at this moment. Edward’s mechanical words caused a sinister smile to creep over the unstable doctor’s form. Even though it was a device speaking for him his demeanor still buzzed through the air as if it was him speaking himself.

As he stood there, staring at him the thought rolled over in his mind once more. If it had always been this way then why did it happen this way? There was only one real answer. But for them to stand here, now, right where they belong was something that he would trade for little in this world. The man truly was perfection born of fear in his form. Every standing at a pendulum across from each other they would continue to tilt the balance. Only the blind bascules of what drove their fate would determine which fell into oblivion in the end.

And now it was he that stood there, so close to the edge that he could almost taste the sweet symphony beyond. But it was something that would never be for him. He had shown Edward, he had shown everyone that he had already embraced that which takes them. The only thing that was left was the terror that drives every man to be what they are, and he the catalyst. It was all so explicitly clear.

His thoughts had almost totally pulled away from the woman, imitating something she didn’t understand, screaming. It was something rare to note, but Edward had a way of distracting him that he kept aware of. His eyes followed the same line in its direct path, he wanted Edward to see what he could never understand. “I am fear…” He reminded him before he aimed the gun forward. His eyes were focused and chillingly sober compared to the way his body held him.

He fired.

Dr. Crane lowered his hand immediately afterward to show he wasn’t to fire again. Instead he took a quick pace up to the man he had fired at and turn the gun around to fit the barrel into his hand. He handed the gun back to him as he looked down at the now buzzing and cracking machine. The integrity had been compromised since it had been fired directly into, it wouldn’t have been functional after. Of course, he could have another, but trying to rid him of it wasn’t the point. The point was so much more deeper, and only Edward could come to that depth with him….even if he couldn’t see it.

He pushed the handle quickly to him.”You’re the trigger.”

[Deleted]

Edward stayed in his spot, watching the unstable grin take a hold of the Scarecrow’s face. Moments like these in the cool of Gotham’s night air in the middle of a dirty ally, tears, guns, and tension, they made him truly consider that insanity had become the bloodline of this city and that a perfect example stood right in front of him. The Scarecrow was insane. Simple as it is fact. He might be intelligent and challenging, but at the end of the day the man’s views on the world were completely outrageous to think he had once found it somewhat endearing. Now, he saw it as a waste, a waste of his mind, a mind he hoped the bullet would drive right through. The Scarecrow no longer deserved to stand on the same level as him, bugs only deserved the flat bottom of a boot.

His deep blue eyes were locked onto him like claws impossible to break. They had once set fire into Edward’s soul, encompassing him with a challenge, a risk, he had to take in, had to beat, had to win, now…those eyes only showed him a weak uncertain man, a man desperately trying to match his game, but fondling short within his own emotions. The Scarecrow was not the man of yesterday. The Scarecrow was merely a skeleton of a man.

He heard the all too familiar phrase, a phrase that he seemed to use to comfort himself when faced with a question he couldn’t quite answer, running back in the safety of his shadows. As he pointed the gun at him, true disappointment fell over Edward. He sighed, not even being affected by the direction. He knew he wouldn’t shoot him. He knew. The man was far too weak to even kill himself when he believed himself immortal. He would be far too weak to kill Edward Nigma, the only man who dared to touch the shadow and pull it out of its darkness. The shadow clung on him like a cancer, and while the cancer would certainly be the death of him one day, the cancer would die with him, and neither of them were ready for such an ending.

His heart rate jumped at the sound of the shoot, though he didn’t feel any pain immediately, his body still froze. Deidre had her gun pointed at the Scarecrow ready to fire. “Boss! Boss!” she shouted.

He looked down and frowned when he saw what he did. Just like a child to throw a tantrum when they don’t get what they want. He thought of the Scarecrow as he took in his destroyed monitor. It had taken him weeks to build it, and he would now have to build another one. He put his hand up to Deidre, telling her to stop, which she did. Of course, he couldn’t speak. He fucking hated this asshole, but he would be cleaned of him soon.

He was handed the gun, and his gloved hand took it. He knew what the Scarecrow wanted. He couldn’t do it himself, so he cowardly ran to him for it. No, he would force him to live in this hell the same as the Scarecrow had made him live through it. He would learn to survive, or he could pull the trigger himself. The girl in the background was still crying and begging Jonathan’s name.

He smirked before turning his eyes away from the Scarecrow’s and to the tearful girls whispering nonsense of the past he had informed her with. He pointed the gun, and without warning, he pulled the trigger, hitting the woman directly in the chest. She screamed in pain, as blood drenched the front of her shirt. He aimed for the lung and heart, likely collapsing the lung instantly and skimming the heart. She would probably have five minutes at the most.

Allen dropped her body and she collapsed on the ground, coughing. “Jon…Jonathan…” she mumbled through the blood, dripping down her chin.

Edward didn’t kill people, or he used to say he didn’t kill people, but we all must face reality. A job half done is not a job done at all. He hadn’t killed the harpy when he had the chance, and for that he lived in this hell. He would never make a similar mistake.

He nodded at Allen, signifying that they were all leaving.

“Please…I’m…sorry,” the woman coughed blood, still reaching out to the Scarecrow to save her.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Dr. Crane kept his posture in front of him declined when he pointed the gun to the side. He saw him holding that smirk, but the shock from what he’d done had already been seen. It didn’t affect the doctor like it normally would. The shots fired as the girl begged for him even as she sunk to her knees. He watched blood come up through her mouth and her eyes get distant on the floor. He had watched her die too many times in his mind, and it was satisfying each and every time.

It wasn’t like Edward to blatantly kill someone, but this wasn’t Edward. The was what was left of the man that once was, stripped of everything. Perhaps Dr. Crane contributed even now by taking his device away, but the copy was never as good as the original. The box weakened him, he couldn’t hear it any longer. There simply was no adequate substitute and there never would be.

Flashes of that past memory kept coming up in his mind as she coughed out her last words. Sherri, sitting in the car next to her blood covered boyfriends, leaning over the steering wheel with a bullet in his head. Her gown was covered in it before she even got to step out of the car to her own prom and she never would set foot in it. He remembered her begging him in the same way this woman did now, begging him to spare her life. She wouldn’t stop screaming….Her screams still continued to echo in his ears. It was the only satisfaction of the night that still carried with him. It was the night that he got his revenge.

She reached out to him and Dr. Crane backed away from her, slowly her body went still and her last breath left her. He watched it drain from her until the nod from Edward stole his gaze. But this time his eyes were not coarse and rigid like a frozen wasteland. They were soft and melted, blue and moving like the sea. Why did Edward do this to him? The reason of revenge? Like this was equal to what he had taken from him? Edward had claimed at the start that it was just the beginning of what he was going to do to him, so there was more in store. He wanted to cut him personally, like how he held his potency and his voice dear to him.

But it wasn’t Dr. Crane that took those things from him, he couldn’t deny that he aided in her getting to him but he had no knowledge of what she was going to do. He knew that it wasn’t going to be anything that he couldn’t handle. Although it wasn’t something he expected, for her to have these powers, it still wasn’t something that was beyond Edward. His reasons for leading her to him were not malicious to Edward…He just didn’t understand.

“Edward..” His voice cracked as he spoke and he tried to draw it back with a cough. His body was deathly still despite the movement around him. His mind was warring with him. There was nothing to salvage between them and there never was anything, that was the way it worked right? He had proven it over and over and even now this was proof that it couldn’t work and never could work. They couldn’t be…friends. The word was painful even in his mind. But if he was so willing to toss the idea why couldn’t he get it out of his head. If Edward hadn’t had some, blind trust for him he would have never met him where he did. Dr. Crane wouldn’t have either.

The realization made him swallow back something that rose to the surface. He pushed it down, told himself that it was something else. “It had to be me, It was me or Luthor, I thought I could control it.” He told the truth of the matter, not bothering to excuse himself from his actions with more explanations. It didn’t matter now. He knew that Dr. Stenet presented that she had other avenues of reaching Edward, she just didn’t want to have to use them, he was the closest. It was the truth, but even she thought he was close to Edward. Perhaps there was something…close….and he’d…ruined it. Even if it was to save him from the unknown.

“I’m Sorry…”

The word stung when it came off his lips. Suddenly his throat felt dry and he brought his hands to it to rub it off. The words felt so foreign to him he couldn’t remember the last time he’d said it with its genuine meaning. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever saying it, it wasn’t something he believed in saying. He didn’t believe that one was capable of actually being sorry, but in this case he had no other words. He didn’t take back what he did, he’d do it again to spare him what could have been, even aat its great cost.

But it didn’t matter now. He found himself cutting off Allen, not caring that he was in the way as long as he didn’t have to step over the dead girl’s body. He leaned against the wall and let the brick cool him from the summer heat lifting off the tar. Whatever this was between them he had burned it into ash. He’d never had a friend before….And now it seemed it was better it stayed this way. He felt something fall from his cheek and he lifted from the brick to see what it was. He saw the spot that fell onto his slacks and wiped the rest from his eye. He sucked back whatever else would come….It didn’t matter anymore.

He needed to leave.

[Deleted]

The Riddler who stood in the dark alley was not the Riddler the Scarecrow knew a year ago. A year ago, the man had been diagnosed with a brain tumor giving him six months to live, leaving him a broken man, a confused man, a man who had far too many hard times, yet a drive to move forward and defeat the challenge. The drive soared in his bloodstream like it had been built into his very DNA. He cured himself, a fact seen as impossible, and he had been flooded by his own ego and overconfidence, nothing standing in the way of what he knew as the truth. He had been so confident that he never expected the past, that harpy, to come back into his life, and like a man on a tall pedal stool, when it was kicked out from underneath him, he fell hard, his entire being breaking, because death was fear all humanity faced, but his voice, his ability, it made him, and it had been stripped from him. He had wondered the streets as a homeless man for weeks, those weeks bleeding together in daze and confusion, his mind going numb as he went behind one dumpster to the next. Thankfully, the park provided chess and he found himself playing against a serious opponent. It all snapped together, that drive shooting back, a reminder of what he could do. Except this time, this time he realized he could never underestimate his opponents no matter their stupidity. His thoughts jumped to point after point, to move after move. He knew what he had to do.

The Riddler before The Scarecrow was a man who not only had counted ten steps ahead, but hundreds, his pieces lining up where he wanted them to, and in the end, everyone would learn the correct god to worship. Fear? He had no fear anymore. He had faced it, and he had defeated it.

He heard his name come out as a choke weak tone from behind him. It caused an evil smirk to spread across his face, but he didn’t stop in his movements. He had already called the cops, and they would be here soon. He picked up the one bullet that had been shot at him, putting it in his pocket. He then dumped his gun in the dumpster, not having his prints but rather the Scarecrow’s. The man would face his own fear, and based on the shakiness of his voice, he knew it was already starting to consume him. The next words were an attempt to justify, but he paused briefly at the mention of Luthor’s name. Luthor kept coming up in his life like a bad case of herpes. Selina, the bitch, the Scarecrow, and all through Gotham. Edward knew the man had a plan and had been taken tallies of all his recent hires within the community. Luthor made one prime mistake. He went after the people closest to him first, and it made a target right at Edward’s back, and he wouldn’t be standing there long enough for him to take aim. No, he already had things in place before his voice had been stolen from him, and while finding a cure would be a detour, his end goal would be the same.

He continued walking away, until her heard those two words which struck him like a bolt of lightning.

He froze in his place. He had never heard Jonathan speak those words before. He caught the sincerity in his voice, the slight bit of pain and a bit of worry. He truly meant it. It caught him completely off guard. He always assumed Jonathan was far too thick headed in his ways to admit when he had wrong, and yet…he had said those words. He felt a bit shell shocked, as if he had seen a ghost. His mind going in a million directions, playing out the chess game quickly in his head, determining what the outcome would be if it was true. He licked his bottom lip subconsciously still in frozen thought, until Deidre broke the entire glass world. “Boss? Are you okay?” she asked, chomping on her gum.

He had to be telling the truth. He had to be. Yes, yes, that would change things, that would changes things drastically. Part of him doubted it, part of him still hated this man, but at the end of the day, Jonathan was not the end goal, ruining this man’s life, while enjoyable, would not get him where he wanted. He would still have to do both…it would be suspicious otherwise. He nodded to himself, ignoring the girl, and turning around.

He caught sight of the broken man wiping a tear from his eye. He felt strange, like peeking in on a hidden moment. Maybe Edward hadn’t been foolish to trust Jonathan. He had been foolish to assume that Jonathan held an above average intelligence. The man clearly had no social skills and no idea what he had gotten himself into when dealing with the harpy. It didn’t matter, he still deserved to be punished, but that didn’t mean his actions weren’t forgivable.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his note pad. He flipped the pages until coming across the page he wanted. Jonathan had to shoot the machine of course, which made all of this extremely frustrating. He ripped out the page, and then got on his knees. He locked his eyes with Jonathan. The one thing they knew was how to read each other eyes. He saw the sadness behind his a feeling he knew Jonathan never believed existed and yet Edward saw it plain as day.

I don’t forgive you, but I can.

He spoke through his eyes, a serious expression on his face. He pulled out his pen, the next part being the most difficult. The paper already had three names on it, but he needed to make it clearer. His hand shook as he tried to draw a simple circle around the two bottom names. It was a full circle, but it looked like it had been made by a two year old. It was the best he could do. He handed him the paper. It read simply.

The Batman

Lex Luthor

Dr. Nina Stenet

He pulled out a small portable hard drive next. He was running out of time, but he needed this to be clear. He had spent half a year on this, and it was the most vital part of his entire operation, and he was about to hand it over to a man who had betrayed him not too long ago. If he betrayed him again, he could create another one, but it would all be too late by the time he was able to do so. It had been tested and could surpass the highest security. He had even tested it on the Justice League Base. However, it held such complex formulas, it wasn’t something he could simply Trojan horse into a system. It needed to be directly downloaded within the online perimeter. He had considered Selina for the job, but her relationship and their relationship in particular had become so rocky. He brought the hard drive to his own lips, kissing it softly before pointing it at Luthor’s name on the sheet.

He then grabbed Jonathan’s hand tightly, squeezing it and giving him his trust once more. His eyes locked into his before he mouthed one word. Run…

He let go of his hand, leaving him with the paper and portable hard drive. His plan had adjusted. The cops would still go after Jonathan. He had dosed the girl with fear toxin before this meeting to point them in that direction, the gun had his prints on it, and he would be slammed with murder. The most he could do was give him a warning, so it would take them longer to track him down, but it was for the best. He couldn’t have Luthor or Dr. Stenet realize that they were working together. It would ruin everything, so he would continue with his plan to destroy Jonathan, but take it at slower steps.

He felt an uncomfortable weight in his chest as he moved back to Allen who had already gotten the car. He got in, immediately, and they sped off back to his warehouse. Trust. He hoped he wasn’t falling for the same trick once more, but he kept repeating those words over and over again in his head.

I’m Sorry.

No, Jonathan couldn’t fake those type of emotions.

[Jonathan Crane - Scarecrow]

Dr. Crane leaned against the wall over his arm. He knew that he was going to have to run. The police were coming and Edward wanted him to get caught. He had probably already put things in place to make sure he would. It didn’t matter, he could get away, but at the moment he was finding it hard to come up with a reason to run right away. He knew that Edward wasn’t going to let him get away after this. His mouth felt so dry from everything and his heart was aching. It was a sensation he wasn’t familiar with and clutched his hand over it.

He thought that Edward was moving away, making his mistake to leave him with the mess, it was the smartest thing to do and that’s what he would do. But he wasn’t getting any further away in his peripherals. Jonathan turned his head slowly to see Edward turn back and face him. Why was he staring at him like that? Had he not done enough with this already? Was there more?

He came away from the wall and watched him fumbling with something in his pocket. When he pulled out the notepad he waited patiently to see how else he planned to try and torture him. Dr. Crane stood as strong as he could appear to be in his current state, which wasn’t saying much. But he tried to keep the emotional void or at least obtain some of it back. He had shot the machine on purpose of course. The real thing was just so much better than the robotic voice. His own voice can only give his words meaning and justice. Everything else just seems like a façade.

Dr. Crane could see from years of experience that he was struggling to write. When He stopped he caught eyes with him and saw his expression. There was no hostility in his eyes and he knew exactly what was really there. How could this man do this to him? One moment he stood here and the next it was there, constantly keeping him moving and guessing where he stood and even now as they both completely understood…It was such fragile ground.

When he stepped up to him he took the paper in hand, his fingers briefly touching Edward but then pulling it away. He saw the rushed writing, it looked as if a three year old had copied it. It was another reminder of what he had a hand in doing. The Batman, Lex Luthor and Dr. Nina Stenet…..The paper, however poorly scrawled was clear he wanted something done with these three and he wanted him to do it. It was such a silent and still moment between them both, speaking without words. They never needed them. Edward began to move quicker now, making his cognitive functions work overtime, he knew that it was difficult to coordinate things together than ever before. The disk came into sight and he watched him touch it to his lips, giving it importance. When his finger touched upon Luthors name Dr. Crane nodded, understanding what he wanted. The other two he knew what he would have to do with.

Before he could do anything in response Edward grabbed him. Dr. Crane’s skin jumped and crawled with the unwarranted touch. His nerves danced back and forth, making his fingers twitch as his hand gave him a squeeze. The squeeze flooded him with more questions that were answered in the emeralds of his eyes. He was willing to try and forgive him. His lips came close, too close for him to not slightly press forward to have their lips barely touch. But as he mouthed his words Edward left him.

Run.

The time had nearly slipped away from him all together. He put the hard drive in his pocket and turned to bolt down the street. He turned into and alley and a cop car came around and blocked it. The sirens immediately turned on and alerted the others to his position. He cursed under his breath and made a sharp turn around the last corner and down another edge with a fence. He jumped on the chain link and climbed over it quickly, his mind racing. There was a change in Edward’s eyes like he had never seen before and it wasn’t like the man to go back on something he’d set his mind to. How was it possible that Edward thought he could give him another chance? Did he deserve one?

He got over the fence and rushed down the next alley. He turned the corner sharply but slid on a piece of cardboard, sending him crashing to the ground on his left side.

CRACK

He felt the pain shoot through his arm as he quickly recovered and ran out the rest of the way. He pulled the arm to his front, cursing. He felt like he’d either cracked it or fractured it. The further away he got the less likely the fracture became, but he couldn’t help but think of their first meeting injured. Edward’s fear had lured him to him that night and then it had driven him away. This night was all too fitting to start the cycle over again. …How fitting an end to a beginning