eddie likes to (riddlethem) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-03-14 02:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | door: dc comics, riddler, stephanie brown |
Who: Riddler and Batgirl
Where: Slaughter Swamp
When: backdated a little to after Eddie gets kidnapped
What: Eddie gets captured like Princess Peach and Steph's dad is Bowser.
Warnings: Violence, sad times
Nestled in the woods of Slaughter Swamp was an abandoned mansion built sometime long before even Eddie was alive. The family who owned it fell out of wealth as people in Gotham do and it became a rotating nest for creatures and criminals alike. It was practically uninhabitable to people now with broken floorboards, disconnected electricity and a basement so dank and putrid that even Killer Croc couldn’t live down there. Tonight it buzzed in the swamp’s cold darkness. Generators keeping lights on as Arthur’s men circled with guns and waited for company. They weren’t allowed to kill Stephanie, but if they could slow her down so Eddie couldn’t be saved, then Arthur won this game he was playing. A dead Riddler and a guilty daughter meant a bright future for the Cluemaster. No alpha dog pulling rank and no daughter spoiling his plans. But, Arthur had a habit of playing just a little out of his depth.
The best way to keep Riddler in one place wasn’t rope or a straight jacket. It had to be drugs. Something to slow his mind down enough that he couldn’t wiggle his way free or systematically build fifty three different plans in his head. All viable and flawless in execution. So, they injected him with Arkham tranquilizers, the kind he had somewhat built up a tolerance for by now and beat him until his fingers and arms couldn’t move. Riddler didn’t care about pain, but when his joints locked and his muscles freezed, he knew he didn’t have a choice but to sit and wait for Stephanie. Because she would show up. She’d be pissed, but she’d show. Arthur was an okay criminal, but Batgirl was a damned good crime fighter. And, even though he couldn’t free himself, Riddler pushed his battered fingers to play with the wiring on the vest strapped to him. A long time ago, he had put the exact same bomb-riddled vest on Arthur and laughed as Batman chased around the city to keep the thing from exploding. There was a trick to getting it off, but it was all a matter of being able to curl his fingers the right way without feeling like they were going to snap right off.
He could feel his mind sharpening again. Arthur would be back soon with another dose of tranquilizers, but if Eddie could just get the ropes off from around his wrists maybe escape was possible. Slaughter Swamp was a big, dark place. Once he slipped out of the mansion, he’d be home free. With his eyes open in the darkness, he started rolling the rough ropes, turning his wrists ever so slightly to give him the edge he needed.
Stephanie was glad that she decided to pick up the cowl again in the month or so before the Vegas switch. All the time swinging around the new Gotham geared up for this, honed her skills enough that she could do this. She could do this, and without the help of the family. Sure, Selina slunk in the corners, and she did stick the comm in her ear just in case everything went to shit, but Stephanie Brown was a ball of tenacity. She could save her boyfriend from all this, and she would do it. Still, the clock ticktocked in her mind, a mental reminder of how little time she actually had left to find Eddie before that gun pressed to his temple in the video clicked and blew a bullet into his brain. The thought nauseated her, and she had to still herself in the shadows to center herself enough to kick some major ass. She had promised Eddie that, right? That she would kick every ass to save him if he wasn’t okay.
The stint in Vegas made her a little slower than usual, with only the weekend as a primer to wake her body up from its vacation-like slumber, and the goons scattered throughout the mansion landed a couple of good hits as she swung into the main hall. Shots rang out, punches were thrown, kicks flew through the air, and Steph scrambled to subdue as many of the armed men as she could. She disarmed a few by hand, threw a couple Batarangs at others, and she thankfully only took a few blows. At least for now. In the momentary silence, with her nose bleeding (god, if it was broken again she would be pissed), she threw one of the lackeys against the wall and pressed her arm against his throat. “Where is he?” she growled in a very Bat-like imitation, and she hoped, for a second, that Bruce would be proud of that. Her head hurt already, her nose throbbed, and she was pretty sure they’d bruised up her arms and legs. After the pathetic man stammered out Eddie’s location in the desolate, abandoned mansion, she punched him out cold. No good deed goes unpunished, right?
Run, run, run across the entrance hall, and her heavy boots slammed against the marble floor in a rage. Bullets rained down, and she flipped and turned and swung to dodge them, but none of them were good enough to shoot to kill. (Or maybe they weren’t supposed to?) A bullet lodged in her kevlar, but blessedly didn’t even puncture her skin. Yet. Strategic kicks and punches let her get through the hallway to the proper room without much harm, but by the time she kicked the right door open, she felt a little out of breath. Just enough that she had to wheeze for a second before spotting Eddie tied up to a chair in the middle of room with that vest strapped to his chest. “Oh god,” she breathed before immediately scrambling over to him. “Eddie!” Her shout bounced off the walls as she ran across towards him.
Through the flimsy walls, he could hear gunfire and boots stomping across the floor towards him. Smiling a little, he felt adrenaline try to shake him from his drugged haze. There was no way they could get out of there without Arthur showing up first (unless he got smart and just abandoned this mistake altogether), so Riddler had to use that to his advantage. The door slammed open and Eddie made a rumbling relieved sound. “Hey beautiful.” He sounded like he was sobering up after one scotch too many and then nodded towards his arms with his chin. “They drugged me, but I’m okay. Cut me free and we can work on this bomb vest.” Eddie was clear and to the point, a complete contrast to the last time she saw him or the video that Arthur had sent her. Being with Stephanie again and living just inches away from death shook his riddles loose like rain off an umbrella.
“As long as you’re with me, he won’t set this bomb off. There’s also three different escape routes through this room that we can take and he’ll realize you’re in here with me within five minutes.” He told her, eyes lifting up as he calculated all the different scenarios like an old computer. Eddie couldn’t process whether or not he should tell her who had strapped this to him, but he knew by the end of tonight he was past trying to fix this himself. Arthur was more interested in an empire than a daughter and while Eddie had originally thought this was just about him and his relationship with Stephanie, the armed thugs and big guns told a different story. Once his arms were free he fumbled at the vest to disarm it, fingers twitching and grasping at wires before he exhaled sharply. “I can’t do it myself. I need you- you have to do it.”
Stephanie skidded to a graceless stop in front of Eddie and almost tripped over her own feet before she fell to her knees in front of him. The blood had stopped gushing down her face, but the red still stained her face and mouth, so the compliment had her rolling her eyes. “It’s the blood, right? It really brings out my eyes.” Despite herself, she smiled, so happy to see him alive even if there was a goddamn bomb strapped to his chest. He was alive, and she would get him out that way. She promised. “I told you I’d look really hot when I got here.” Her mouth wibbled in betrayal, and if they weren’t surrounded by thugs closing in the distance or in some dirty old mansion tucked away in Slaughter Swap, she’d tackle him right there. Pepper him with kisses and never, ever let him go again. But, they were surrounded by those thugs and in this dirty mansion, so all she did was brush her hand against his cheek tenderly, careful of the bruises and bumps. After a brief moment to look into his dark brown eyes and rekindle that pitter-patter he created in her chest, she busied herself with those ropes.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered, looking up again to flash him a watery look. Okay, so maybe a small, miniscule part of her didn’t expect to see him alive. They were cutting it close, and maybe the kidnapper didn’t even have Eddie alive. She grunted in response to his observation, though she didn’t quite process what he was saying yet. All she was worrying about was letting him out of the restraints. When she did, she sighed in relief. “We can get out of here. Selina’s somewhere around here, and she can give us a good distraction while I get you out.” But she saw him fumbling with the wires, and a panic rumbled in her stomach. “No, no, no, you can do it, I can’t--.” She sighed in frustration, fingers shaking as she reached out for his wrists. “You can do this.” Biting down on her lip, she stared at him, pleading that he could do this because she didn’t know if she could. Suddenly, though, and as if the thought finally struck her, she tugged at his wrist. “Who is it? Why wouldn’t they blow it while I’m around?” She had an inkling, but--no, it couldn’t be.
Eddie could feel his face warm at her touch, even with that quick brush of fingers and he became acutely aware of just how alone he had been up to this point. Three days weren’t much to someone who had a memory spanning back decades and decades, but time had a funny way of speeding up and slowing down based on perspective. Besides, he was sharper when she was around. Focused because he couldn’t afford to be lost in his own riddles for too long. Eddie slumped forward in the chair, rubbing his wrists and trying desperately to flex his fingers enough to play with the delicate wiring. “Selina?” He sounded surprised, but only for a moment. Selina had a way of mixing the old kitty cat and the new one in a way he could appreciate. And, if the roles were reversed, she knew he and Stephanie would pull her out, too. “I don’t know if I can disarm it. I don’t- I can tell you how. I know you can do it.” Eddie looked up to Stephanie, expression brightening. “Crash course, right?”
And, just on cue, a warning shot was fired from the doorway. Standing there was Arthur in a black, mookish combat outfit with a ski mask pulled over his face. Which was stupid because his bright blue eyes gave away everything. He didn’t say anything, merely holding the gun up like he was going to shoot Eddie this time despite the explosives strapped to his body. “Who would have sent me clues to send me over the deep end? Who would have strapped an identical vest to me that I designed for someone else.” Eddie pushed the chair back a little to angle Stephanie in front of him. Brown could try to shoot her, but Eddie knew the shot would be shaky at best.
“You’re too late! I’m blowing this whole swamp sky high!” Arthur screamed, holding the explosives trigger out like he was actually going to set it off. But, he was starting to see what kind of corner he painted himself in. Or, at least, Eddie was going to make it clear as day for him.
“Cute, Arthur. But, you can’t do that as long as she’s here.” Eddie’s voice darkened with control. The loopiness of the drugs sliding out of his brain the closer he got to regaining the upper hand on this situation. And, Arthur knew that tone. He knew when Riddler was right about something. Giving a frustrated growl he backed out of the room, ready to try and lead Stephanie away from her riddled man.
The gunshot caused Steph to nearly jump out of her skin, and she turned away from her question-marked man towards the doorway. And though it’d been years since she laid eyes on him, those blue eyes did say it all. “Dad?” she asked incredulously. Even with the inkling, even with Eddie’s words ringing in her ears, it still hit her like a freight train of shock. She didn’t think it was possible. How could it be possible? Her father was dead. He couldn’t be standing there at the edge of the room with a gun measured at she and Eddie. It wasn’t possible. Arthur Brown was not alive and well. He just couldn’t be.
Then again, impossibility was the theme in this brand new Gotham.
She stood up in front of Eddie, knees wobbling ever so slightly, and her heart raced. Beat until it lodged in her throat, and she almost choked on that then and there. Her gloved fingers flexed, her stomach lurched, and she felt a rage bubble in her stomach. Why hadn’t he tried to reach out to her? Even all consumed by greed and a thirst for blood, why hadn’t her father reached out to her? It was childish, she knew, especially given their relationship, but Stephanie was angry. Really, really angry. And, hurt. The betrayal tasted metallic in her mouth, or perhaps that was just the blood that dripped into her mouth earlier. Either way, she felt sick to her stomach.
“You aren’t blowing up anything,” she snapped, standing strong in front of Eddie sitting in that chair, even as Arthur back out of the room. She afforded her boyfriend a glance over her shoulder, one that tried to assure him that she would take care of this, and slowly began to edge away from the green man and towards the door. Not out just yet, and she kept her eyes flickering towards Eddie every couple of steps. “It’s going to be fine. We’re just going to have quality daddy-daughter time.” She said with such casualness that it almost seemed like she looked forward to it, like he wasn’t threatening to murder them. But, Arthur Brown was always threatening to hurt her before this; physically, of course, and not by breaking her heart. Which, hurting Eddie would do implicitly. “Arthur!” she called out of the doorway and, after one final glance towards Eddie, slipped out of the room.
Simultaneously, Arthur and Eddie started doing the math of how far it would take Stephanie to be from the base explosion to get away with her life. Arthur didn’t care if it crippled her, even if it was for good, but he wouldn’t let the window of chance be too big. Eddie came up with a rough estimate of the front door. She’d get some broken bones and scars at the worst, but she’d survive. And, despite that look she gave him, Eddie was starting to question whether or not Stephanie would make that mistake. Whining, the riddled man looked down at the vest he was wearing and struggled for the wires again, unable to grasp any of them with his stilted fingertips. So, he tried to stand, but couldn’t hobble more than a couple feet away from the chair before sharp, prickling pain went up his legs and back. Collapsing to his knees, Eddie rolled on his back and waited patiently to either be blown sky high or saved. Oh, he was so screwed.
Out in the hallway, Arthur’s wild, angry look mixed with fear and that flash of almost long forgotten need to protect Stephanie. He had treated her like a burden for so much of his life, but those small moments when he showed concern for her were genuine, even if he didn’t know how to express it. And, he knew Stephanie understood that enough he could use it to his advantage. He kept moving back, gun steadily pointed at her shoulder. The mansion was clearing out. Either thanks to the kitty or because they knew Batgirl being here meant game over. Arthur kept an even pace towards the door, luring her to follow. “Whatever he’s told you, it’s just a bunch of lies. Don’t you see that?” Arthur tried to calm himself down, but that Brown anger boiled and lashed. “I thought Nigma was my friend, too, but he used me. He uses everyone.” He pulled his mask off, showing a sympathetic frown that was quickly betrayed by an all-too familiar scowl. “How could you be so stupid? After you lived with him and I told you how dangerous he is?”
Stephanie didn’t want to leave Eddie alone in that room, and she hesitated at the doorway, hand wrapping around the wood frame as if fighting with herself on what to do, who to stay with. And, she was, essentially, fighting internally over whether to follow her bastard of a father or protect her incapacitated boyfriend. Half of her wanted to simply stay with Eddie until Arthur got so frustrated that he gave up the whole thing, but she wanted to try to reason with him. Try to talk some sense into her father. She needed to speak to him. After years and years of thinking he was just dead, she couldn’t just pass up this opportunity. She scrubbed her face to rid herself of some of the blood and clutched at that wood frame for a moment longer to steady herself before pushing off to follow after Arthur. As soon as he began yelling, however, she slowed her steps, and when he unmasked, she found herself arrested in the spot. There he was, with that same blond hair and blue eyes, and it made her sick that she felt a hole he left inside of her amplified at the sight. It figured that after Vegas drummed up all the issues she had with her father, he would show up like some apparition there to torture her.
“You’re alive,” she said simply, and god, did the words sound tiny and hurt. Like the little girl in front of her daddy begging for him to love her. It sounded like a familiar song, a tune repeated over and over and over again until everyone grew sick of it. “Were you ever going to tell me? Did you even think about it?” She gritted her teeth, and her own blue eyes mirrored that rage that boiled behind his. Arthur Brown was a son of a bitch, and his daughter shook with rage. “Eddie isn’t lying,” she snarled, but then centered herself. “He’s different here, don’t you see that? We’re all different. This Gotham isn’t the same. It’s a second chance for all of us, a way for all of us to be whatever we want to be. Dad,” she pleaded, biting down on her lip hard to mask a wibble, “it’s a chance to change everything. Don’t you want to try?”
Arthur stopped, lowering the gun a little as Stephanie made her plea and his eyes darted past her as if he expected something out of the peanut gallery. But, Eddie wasn’t making a peep and it caused a long pause of hesitation. “When I got here I didn’t see anything different.” He said slowly, blue eyes focusing on hers that were bright and his own. “Riddler still has his web spun all over Gotham. It took him two days to find me and most hired guns want something extra to go up against him. That sounds like home to me, Stephanie.” Arthur bit back bile that his own daughter was calling that Arkham freak Eddie, which confirmed everything he suspected about the two. Riddler didn’t relent long enough to let someone ambush him back home and the fact that he left himself so wide open for Arthur to take advantage meant the feeling could have been mutual. That something was jumbled and changed now despite all of their histories lining up.
The floorboards creaked as he took another couple steps back, trying to keep Stephanie occupied enough to get her out of the mansion. “I was protecting us from him. Now that I know it’s you, we can talk.” Arthur tried for sincerity, like this time with a gun pointed at Stephanie and a trigger to blow her boyfriend up in each hand, he really planned on changing. “Let’s sort this shit out together. He can take care of himself.” And, with that he started down the stairs, maybe a couple paces faster than someone who was planning on surrendering.
From inside the room, Eddie knitted his fingers together over the bombvest and turned his head to look at Stephanie’s back. He had planned to stay quiet, to let Arthur make his ridiculous case and let her actually decide which of them was really trustworthy. And, in any other Gotham, it would have been Arthur. Hands down. Everytime. But, Eddie knew that here the second Arthur got her away, he was going to push that trigger and light up Slaughter Swamp like it was the 4th of July. So he simply whistled at her. Sharp, loud and crisp. Exactly the same way he did Christmas Eve. To try and snap her out of it.
Steph blinked away the tears out of her watery blues as she looked at eyes that matched hers. Her fingers latched around the cowl, and she tugged it off in one swift movement. Her blonde hair tumbled across her shoulders, and besides the puffy nose, a bruise blossomed across her cheek. Damage her father’s men left, and that didn’t even take into account the aching ribs. Or her throbbing heart. “You were dead,” she whispered, ignoring his rant about things not being different in this Gotham. Clearly, he didn’t know a damn thing about this city now. Maybe he was a old soul, older and more stubborn than most of the people who inhabited the dark city. “They told me you were dead. I went around for months and months trying to figure out what happened, and you didn’t even ever think of talking to me now, when we’re both here.”
She swallowed hard and crossed her arms, and her chest ached so much she felt breathless, and she clawed at the high neck of her kevlar before resting her hand on the yellow bat across her chest. “He isn’t like that, not anymore,” she assured her father, shaking her head at the implication that Eddie hadn’t changed. “I would never--if he wasn’t different, I wouldn’t even think of--Dad, please, listen to me.” She took a few steps forward as he rocked back, and her frame shrugged off any sort of anger. Standing there, she just looked like his little girl asking him to like her new boyfriend. Or love her. Love, love, please love her. Stop being the selfish bastard he always was, and just protect her the way a father should. That desire fueled her to step further, almost towards the top of that staircase, but the whistle snapped her focus. Her neck jerked to the open doorway, and she saw Eddie laying there with the bomb strapped to his chest.
“If you want to talk, we’re talking up here, Arthur,” she said loudly, evenly, though her tears peppered the corners of her voice. Soaked through her words, and it was clear how upset she was about all of this. Backpedaling up the hallway, back towards that open room, she hoped her father would follow. It was Eddie’s only hope. “Let’s sort things out. Please.”
But, Arthur was already sprinting towards the door. Away from the watery call from his daughter, away from whatever guilt was being dug up from the both of them bending over backwards to try and make things right. It pissed the Cluemaster off more than confused him. How did he end up in a Gotham where his daughter and old criminal best buddy end up together and on some mutual path for goodness? Nigma had to be a different man from the one he knew or playing such a long, quiet con on his daughter that she couldn’t tell. And if this plan had failed or Arthur had simply killed Eddie instead of using him as bait, maybe he could have made things right with her. This was all moving too fast, though and Arthur was having a hard time picking up the pieces.
The sound of Arthur barking orders at his men downstairs sounded and Eddie tilted his head up at Stephanie with wide, dark eyes. Arthur wasn’t going to push the trigger any time soon, but Eddie needed to get the jacket off before he left Slaughter Swamp. “We’ll figure it out.” Eddie said gently about the two of them and Arthur, but without any real confidence in his voice that he could make her father anything except for the crook he was. “For now I need you to get a batarang out and help me.” And, while he didn’t seem convinced that Arthur could be swayed, Eddie seems absolutely certain that he and Stephanie could get out of this mess by working together. Partners.
Later, he’d sit back at his apartment covered in bandages, trying not to abuse his pain medication and listen to her work through the whole thing. He’d even hold when she cried and they’d figure out a way to try and save Arthur instead of just punish him for being such a goddamned bastard the second he dropped into Gotham. But, right now? She needed to go back to being Batgirl. “There’s a blue wire I managed to fish out on the left side. I’m going to hold it and you cut it. There’s three other wires and code. You can do this.” Eddie’s eyes narrowed and his voice was firm and serious. He pushed two fingers under the blue wire and held it up gently for her.
A massive part of Stephanie knew that her father wouldn’t want to stay and talk things out, not if she refused to leave Eddie alone for him to be blown to smithereens. A tiny piece of her brain whispered doubts about her decision. She should have followed him through. She could have spoken some sense to him. Eddie could take care of himself. This was her one chance to save her dad, and she decided to stay with her boyfriend. “Dad. Dad!” Her voice cracked as she shouted down the staircase towards the retreating figure of her father. She blew it. She really blew it, and her stomach and chest ached so much she could barely stand. Leaning against the doorframe, she wrapped her arm around her waist, taking low and deep breaths until Eddie called out to her. She wanted to tell him that his reassurances didn’t mean a goddamn thing, that there wasn’t a word he could say to actually make her feel okay, but she couldn’t snap at him as she stared at her riddled man for a split second of silence. He had a bomb strapped to his chest, after all.
She scrambled towards him, eyes blinded by tears and the throbbing pain of her nose and her chest, and she nearly tripped over him in the process. “Sorry, sorry,” she stammered out as she fell to her knees roughly. No, she had to be Batgirl right then, and Batgirl couldn’t get upset over some stupid crook’s selfishness. Her fingers shook as she reached into one of the compartments of the yellow utility belt around her waist, and she procured a sharp, metal Batarang out. She shook her head with doubt, then took a shaky breath. “I can’t--.” Her head shook back and forth vigorously, blonde hair flying in all different directions. She bit her lip and looked up at Eddie for a second before telling herself she had to do this. She just had to.
The Batarang slipped underneath the blue wire between his fingers and vibrated as her fingers shook in fear. She could do this. She could do all this. A deep breath, and she pulled the sharp metal up in a quick motion to break the wire in half. “One down,” she joked shakily, and if this thing was timed, they would have to escape soon. “Solomon Grundy was a good hint, even if Selina figured out Slaughter Swamp before we solved the riddle.” She twitched a smile in his direction as she waited for him to point her in the next direction.
Eddie’s processing got stuck on her expression. So hurt in a way that had little to do with him and so he wasn’t sure how to fix, if it could be fixed at all. It reminded him of Vegas, but there he was better equip with how to handle something like this. And, there wasn’t a bomb strapped to his chest. His fingers brushed against her gloved hand, messy and jagged like he had never used them before. Usually his touches were all so feather light and sneaking, but he pressed down against the back of her hand until the pressure slowed her shaking. “You had Selina help you with the riddle, too? Normally I’d call that cheating, but with my life on the line I suppose I can let it slide this time.” Eddie took his hand off hers and ran his fingers across the vest until he hit a soft spot.
“Cut the fabric open here, carefully. Take out the green and yellow wires and cut them, but don’t touch the black one.” He understood that this would have gone a lot faster if they had Selina do it, but this wouldn’t be the last time Stephanie had to disarm a bomb and she had to prove she could manage under so much pressure and emotional stress. More than just Batgirl training, if Eddie had pushed her away and opted for someone clearly more capable, it would lay the roots down for distrust between them. Everything was thought out with him, even trying to keep their relationship as strong as their own identities. It had to be that way, especially when he couldn’t tell how Arthur’s reappearance was going to change things.
Steph afforded him a glare through her tearful expression. “I thought we both decided I’m terrible at your riddles.” It wasn’t talking herself down, just simply stating the facts. She wasn’t hopeless at them, especially lately, but that didn’t mean she was a veritable expert at riddles and clues. That was why she didn’t quite figure out that the root of all of this was her father. Sure, she had her inkling, but ART? How could she have been so stupid? Of course it was her father, and if she had been better at Eddie’s puzzles, or recognized her own father’s work, she would have been more prepared. Things would have gone better. Maybe there would have been a chance to salvage a relationship with Arthur.
That was all this was though. A series of ‘what ifs’ that Stephanie couldn’t wrap her mind around at the moment. Not with her brain soaked in tears, her chest throbbing with hurt, her nose broken, and her boyfriend strapped to a bomb. “Selina helped me get in here, too. She says she owes you for something, but I think she’s fond of you.” The ghost of a smile twitched at the corner of her mouth, but quickly dipped back down into a serious frown. The pressure against the back of her hand calmed her, and after taking a few seconds and couple deep breaths, she cut a fairly straight line through the fabric, deep enough to expose the desired wires. “Well. Here it goes.” She tried to gently pull out the two wires they wanted to cut, but she thought it might disturb the black wire too much. No, she’d have to pray that she didn’t jerk it around when she cut through with that goddamn Batarang. She positioned the metal against the wires, but paused thoughtfully.
“In case I blow both of us up to high heaven, I love you, Edward Nashton. No matter what.” And before waiting for a response, she swiped down.
He lifted his brow with that familiar smirk she hated, settling back into the person he naturally was around her despite the danger weighing down on them. “You are terrible, but you’ve improved at crosswords by 10% and honestly Selina is just as bad at riddles as you are.” That was one thing that never changed about the kitty cat. Eddie’s games were always too trivial, too cerebral for her. And, while he had used that to his advantage a long time ago from Rome all the way to Gotham, here he thought of her as a comrade in thievery. “She does owe me, but we both know that’s not why she came along.” Eddie gave Stephanie a look like they were casually discussing office secrets over a watercooler and not a bomb. “She’s fond of you, too. You’ve been kind to meow face, despite her gray moral code.” And, there were other reasons why Selina did what she did, but Gotham could be simple. Sometimes it was just a matter of getting people you liked out of trouble.
Eddie seemed remarkably calm now. He was still in pain, but he was managing through it with quiet, measured breaths. There was a chance he was just kind of nuts, but he wasn’t afraid she’d blow them up. If the two of them couldn’t disarm a bomb that he designed a long time ago, then what good were they at anything? So when she paused, batarang edge against the wires and her eyes on his, he seemed surprised at her. Heart suddenly twitching blood through his neck and wrists while it pounded at the mere thought this could be the end. And, he exhaled a tiny eegaah when the wires cut, looking up at her with an embarrassed grin. “Well, Stephanie Brown, I-” He tilted his chin up for a kiss, but then stopped short once he realized there were two more steps before they were home free. He still couldn’t cut wires or fish them out of the jacket, but the rest didn’t require delicate batarang surgery. Eddie looked back down and pulled out a small number pad that was crafted from an old phone booth and punched in a code before painfully ripping out the red wire attached to it. The vest made a small beeping noise and then unlocked around his chest and waist. “Love you, too. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”
He slipped out of the powered down vest and crawled to the chair so he could stand on his own. Eddie was feeling acutely aware of his own age, his real age and the last thing he wanted right now was to be half carried out like some kind of senior citizen. “My cane is around here som- damn it.” Whether it was Stephanie helping him out of the mansion or using his cane as support instead of the weapon it usually was, he was going to look pathetic. “I think you should just go on ahead. Just, ah, call Frank and he’ll take me to a private practice doctor.” Eddie’s pride could only take so much and standing there beaten, battered and with his Riddler suit completely ruined he was positive he didn’t want her to see him like this.
Stephanie greeted the beep with a raise of her eyebrows and then the unlocking vest with a long, quiet sigh of relief. The Batarang fell from her fingers with a clatter, and she sunk down onto the back of her feet, and she looked like the world had just been lifted from her shoulders. She had done it. A shaky hand ran over her face, careful to not press against her tender nose or cheek, but pressing her fingers against her eyes as if she would forget everything that happened. Forget Eddie’s battered face, forget all the lackeys attacking her, forget her father abandoning her yet again. She didn’t realize she was crying again, not until she felt the streams of tears drip off her chin, and she pressed harder into her eyes as he crawled back over to the chair. The ‘what ifs’ murmured at the back of her mind again, and she wondered if there was a different way to go about all of this. What if she’d gone after her father? Maybe he was open to reason.
Eddie snapped her out of her temporary, selfish reverie. Here she was crying over her father when she should be making sure he was okay. When had she become such a sap about Arthur Brown? Blame Vegas, and she would. Her head jerked towards the direction of the chair where Eddie was, and she looked at him with an incredulous expression. Was he high? “I’m not leaving you.” He had seen her at the lowest of her lows, and she didn’t even think twice about what he thought of her seeing him in that moment. “Selina can provide a distraction, and we can just get out of here. I’ll bring you to a damn doctor myself.” Pushing herself up off the floor, she rocked on her feet for a second before taking a step towards him. He couldn’t be serious. After all that, he couldn’t seriously just want her to leave him alone and let his right hand man just pick up the pieces. That was supposed to be her job. She had chosen him. She’d chosen a relationship with the Riddler over repairing the shambles of affection with the Cluemaster.
But, then again, maybe she had a chance to go after her dad still. She paused briefly, looking at him with those same blue eyes that bore down on him and pressed a gun to his head only a little while earlier. No, she couldn’t be thinking about that, and she shook her head to rid herself of the mental junk. “Eddie. Seriously?”
Eddie wandered over to the corner Arthur had left his cane, leaning on the wall long enough to examine the brass thing for his own blood. Arthur wanted to beat Eddie with his own game. His own mind. His own engineering. His own goddamned cane. And, he wouldn’t have gotten this close if it wasn’t for Stephanie. If the blonde bat hadn’t returned to Gotham and he was left with his own riddles and this terrible scavenger hunt, well who knows what would have happened? Just because he didn’t do terrible things anymore didn’t mean he didn’t think about them. Running the back of his hand along the cane, he appreciated the paradox that Stephanie constantly put him in. He was better this way, but he’d be a criminal king without her. He would have crushed Arthur or used him exactly how the D-list villain accused. Instead he showed weakness for love, to earn some kind of trust from her father like some humbled boyfriend standing on the porch with a shotgun leveled at the bridge of his nose. And, he’d do it again. He’d roll over for Arthur if that’s what it took to get him to stop with all these pointless mook games. All for Stephanie because she’d do the same damned thing for him.
He looked up to her, hand pressed on the cane as he saw doubt between the tears. He’d deal with that later. Telling her now that her father was such a bastard that he’d kill her boyfriend the second he got the chance wasn’t something she needed to hear now. And, he was proud of himself for realizing that. “No, not seriously.” Eddie sighed, eyes narrowing a little like he was trying to avoid a lecture about visiting the dentist or getting his oil changed. “You want to see how bad of shape I’m in? Fine. Let’s go to the doctor together. Whoever has the biggest bruise circumference wins.” He threw his free arm up in dramatic frustration, followed by an ow ow ow as moving it too much caused a shooting pain up to his fingertips.
“This is emasculating. I’m growing a beard to make up for it.” Eddie threatened, hobbling over to her as he sucked in air sharply. But, he was smiling through the pain. And, once he was toe-to-toe with her, he reached for her chin in slow shakiness and kissed her gently. “Splitting up to go our own ways is what got us in this mess.” Eddie admitting, taking some of the blame for himself. Then, teasingly, “I can’t believe you’d come up with that kind of game plan. I’m telling the cat.”
She smiled a little despite herself, even if she knew deep, deep, deep down that Eddie wouldn’t really push her away even in this vulnerable moment. “I have a feeling you might win that this one time, honey,” she said with a smile that didn’t quite hide her concern over his injuries. She saw the bruises and marks littered across his suddenly tired-looking face, the blood splattered over the green suit he’d chosen that morning with her in that closet of his, and she wanted to turn back the clock to that moment to beg him to stay with her. Let her tag along. The regret left a bad taste in her mouth. She should have stayed with him, should have refused to let him go about this alone, and then he probably wouldn’t be in such bad shape. They could have nipped this quickly before it all escalated too far. Before her Eddie was beaten to a bloody pulp by her father and his crooked mooks. Thinking about it, she frowned and bit down on her lip, hating this twisted version of a protective father threatening a boyfriend before a first date. There wasn’t anything protective about this. This was Arthur Brown being selfish again. At least that was what Stephanie saw.
“Frank wouldn’t hold your hand either when the doctor hit all the bad spots, either.” She returned the kiss eagerly, having to remind herself to take it easy with him, even if all she wanted to do was press him against the nearest wall and let him know how crazy this had all made her. “No beard. I’m sorry, I don’t care how hurt you are, but I won’t be kissing you with all that patchy scruff.” Wrinkling her nose, she stole another quick kiss, then another. And another. Tasting him like it had been eons and eons waiting to satisfy a hunger only he could feed. She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t have gotten in here without her help.” Steph knew that. She wouldn’t have been able to do much of any of this without the kitty cat’s help. She nodded, grabbing at the hand free of the cane, and lacing her gloved fingers with his. “We’re better together than apart, we’ve got to remember that.”
Eddie tried to stay brave and indifferent to the worried look she gave his battered face, but his eyes strayed away for a second between kisses. Being vain and eccentric usually manifested in him strolling around Gotham in brightly colored suits and chatting at anything that would listen, but it could be turned into a blackened, broken thing that didn’t want anyone or anything looking his way. Instinctively he reached to fix his messy hair, even without knowing how bad it actually looked or how inconsequential it was compared to his injuries. He wanted his bowler hat back. He wanted his suit to be crisp, clean and pressed. It didn’t matter how silly he knew that need was. But, he had seen her at her lowest. He had sat on a couch and watched her pace in a ratty sweatshirt and her underwear as she tearfully told him her deepest and darkest secrets. She earned to see him at his worst, too. And, between tonight and the puzzled morning she snapped him out of, Eddie was certain that was about as low as he could get without crossing back over into villain territory.
“Not scruffy, luxurious.” He corrected her, holding a single, bloodied finger up between them before leaning in for another hard, desperate kiss despite the pain. And, then he took her hand carefully, digging the cane into the floorboard as she lead him back out of the mansion. She was right, they both knew trying to navigate Gotham alone was a mistake they needed to stop making. And, after this? Eddie wasn’t about to leave her out of anything. Even if it was potentially too painful. Stephanie didn’t need to be protected or babied or left in some tower away from the dangers of Gotham. At the end of the day, they were both just two Old Gotham kids trying to make the best out of the city they were tangled up in. He lifted his head up and smiled gently at her. “I won’t forget if you don’t.”