Work Text:
Edward Nygma stood motionless as long fingers ghosted over his throat. The being behind him was nothing but a shadow now, a hell-sent nightmare that had never seemed quite real. Until this moment.
“Well, Edward?” Jonathan Crane whispered. His words were like slivers of glass, slipping under skin with utmost ease, never to be removed. He sought Edward’s pulse and pulled the man closer to his bony body when he found the genius’s heartbeat to be fast as a rabbit’s. “What do you think?”
Shaking, Edward leaned his head back to rest on Jonathan’s shoulder. He knew that this was a bad idea, knew that there would be repercussions. But as he gazed up into the darkness, he knew too that this had to happen. “I think...I think you’re going to ruin me. Am I right?”
Jonathan’s quiet laugh was like an autumn breeze, cold and rattling. “You are.”
Edward pressed himself against Jonathan at the sight of the fear toxin-filled syringe. “Will it--will it hurt?”
“You already know the answer to that, my dear,” Jonathan said as he slid the needle into Edward’s neck. “Oh, but how beautiful it will be.”