Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once again, he stood at those black iron gates. Except this time on the side of freedom rather than imprisonment, a shocking thing if he was being honest. Off-white paper deeming him “sane” gripped in one hand, and a bag containing the few possessions he was allowed in Arkham in the other, he took his first step away from the gates as a free man. 

Well, as free as you can be when almost everyone in Gotham knows your face and name. Perhaps another name change could be a service. 

It would be a shame to waste such a good pun though. Then again, many things in life go to waste. 

His sneakers walked the pavement as he made his way away from Arkham as fast he could, without running of course. Edward was never one for athletics. That declaration of mental sanity was now stashed in his hoodie pocket, probably crumbling a bit. He had no idea where he was going, or what he would do now. It was doubtful anyone would hire him. Theft was always an option, but even shoplifting a candy bar had the chance to get him back in that cell considering his reputation. The GCPD would be all too happy to do so.

The options for his future seemed quite limited as of now. Penguin was always an option, but he wasn’t sure if he would be okay with Ed not contributing to any crime. He ran his free hand through his hair as he sighed and hung his head. Nowhere to go. Not entirely unlike when he had escaped his first “prison”. He had made do then, and even flourished after he made a name for himself. So it was simple; he would just have to do it again. 

After a good bit of walking he found himself in a park. It was mostly empty considering it was 1:48 pm on a Tuesday, with a handful of people sprinkled around. Settling on a shady spot under a tree, he sat down and began to look through the bag. It, unsurprisingly, didn’t have much. Basic hygiene products, a puzzle book, polyhedron shaped rubix cube, glasses neck chain, and a bottle of water. The only other things to his name were the clothes on his back and that paper in his pocket. Grey sweatpants, matching grey shirt, and that zip up hoodie that Babs had given him a few months ago.

          It was, all things considered, not the worst to work with. All that was needed now was just some good ‘ol fashioned brainstorming. So there he sat, with his arms crossed on top of his knees, and then his head on top of them, murmuring and muttering. The fact that he hadn’t instantly turned to old habits of heist suggests that the certificate of sanity held some truth to it. 

           “You’re afraid you’re just like him. On the verge of a breakdown. And all the tests the corp put you through… It was never clear whether you were actually insane or not.”

“And I think you aren’t entirely sure yourself.”

         A sudden pressure on his shoulder made him jump back to reality as his head shot up to see who would even THINK to tou-

         Oh.

             Of course.

“Nashton, no need to be so jumpy.” The man mused with a slight smile.

“Its Nygma , and good to see you too Bruce.” Ed huffed as he glanced up at him.

“I heard you got out of Arkham, decided to try and find you. I can say I did not expect you to be enjoying your first afternoon free at a park.”

“Well, I guess everyone can surprise someone sometimes.” Ed retorts as Bruce sits down beside him. “Aren’t you nervous someone will see you?” He muses as he turns to look at the park instead of the man next to him. 

“Hm? What exactly do you mean by that?” Of course he knew exactly what Nygma meant, he was taunting him. And it irritated him to no end. His, uh, smug.., face was making his skin itch. 

“You know exactly what I mean. THE Bruce Wayne,” opening his hands palm out as he said the first part with mocking admiration, “seen with THE,” doing the same gesture again, “Riddler! Scandal of the week. Or even of the month.”

He moved his hands to almost every word, a habit that unlike his passion for theft had not been broken, lifting his shoulders in tandem. He hung his head forward for a second or two to compose himself before lifting it to look at Bruce.

“So just.. why , risk that to come see me fresh out of prison. Wanting to get even with me for all the mocking I did at your expense?” The smirk on his face was fake of course, but his curiosity was genuine.

The other man hummed a bit before responding, resting his head against the tree.

“I can assure you, Nygma, I am not here to mock you. I was more so just curious to see if you had truly been deemed sane.”

“I can deceive all or reveal all, seen or heard I can impact all no matter fictitious or real, what am I?”

“Words.”

“Correct. These?” Crunching and crumbling sounds as he pulls the somewhat damaged paper from his pocket. “These are just words on paper. So no matter what it says, I am the one who has to decide that.”

“I see. So where are you going to go from here?”

“May be odd for the likes of me, but I'm not actually sure.. I could always go to Penguin. Again. But I would take it that the other Rouges arent exsctly happy that I helped save your life.”

“Behead me once and I am the same, behead me again and I still ring true in the same tune. Five, four, three all mean the same, what am I?”

A smidge of pride crept into him as he saw Bruce become stumped for a bit. It was nice to know he still had that edge to him.

“Alone. You’re alone. Behead once and you get ‘lone’. A second time and you're left with ‘one’. Of which you have none.”

An amused huff escaped Ed as he finished his explanation. Pride of stumping someone held no candle to the feeling of stumping someone and they still figured it out. 

“Correct again. Good to see you are sharp as ever.”

“Same to you.”

Bruce paused before he continued on.

“So, you have no plan for what to do, and are alone with no one or thing to help you?”

“So you did come here to mock me huh.” He teased a little. “But yes, you are correct.” For once. Fighting the urge to undermine his statement with belitiling was yet another bad habbit not quite broken yet.

“Well, as much as I hate to say it, you aren’t.” Bruce chuckled a little as the confusion set onto his face. “You see, I actually fibbed a bit about why I am here. I came with an offer for you.”

“Alrighty then, what is this offer Mr Wayne?”

“I want you to work for me.”

The confusion on his face was apparent as he stared at Bruce as if he had two heads. His mouth opened and closed as for once in the time they had known eachother, he didn’t know what to say.

Chuckling slightly he finally found the words. 

“I’m not entirely sure that Wayne Enterprises would li-“ 

He was cut off with a raised hand, “No, not for Wayne Enterprises. For me. For my uh.. ‘Night Job’, shall we say.”

The corners of his mouth turned upwards, finding some humor in the way he danced around saying what his “night job” was. Understandable, of course, considering the public setting.

“I must say that I am curious. Why would you want me to work for you? The notorious criminal and The Bat, working together? Putting my old friends in jail. Sounds like a blast.” Sarcasm oozed from his words as he did air quotes around the word ‘ friends’ . Wayne just hung his head before sighing.

“You don’t have to accept Nygma. But you helped a lot with finding me. You saved my life. Not to mention you know my actual identity, it would be best not to risk that getting out to the other Rouges.”

“Touche.” He said with a click of his tongue before continuing, “And I must suppose that it can’t do much more harm.”

“And wht do you mean by that?”

“Like I said earlier,” gaze turning to the rustling leaves above the two as he spoke, “most of the other Rouges don’t like that I helped you. And if you recall our last, I don’t have friends anyways.”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond to that. Comforting people was not a skill he possessed, and he didn’t want to upset Riddler. Though he doubted that he would be honest if he did upset him.

“Welp,” The ginger finally broke the silence, much to Bruce’s relife, “I suppose I accept.”

Chapter Text

Edward knew how he ended up in Bruce Wayne’s car and on the way to his mansion. He knew he had accepted his offer to work with him. Yet he was still confused as fuck. Which was not an emotion he found himself with often.

It didn’t feel right. Answers came naturally to him but now they eluded him. Why was Bruce being so nice to someone like him? Batman dosen’t like criminals, much less killers. A sharp pain shot through his thumb as he realized he had been picking at the cuticles and a small trickle of blood started to drip down it. He sucked in a sharp breath as he started to rub the blood off of his thumb. The stinging hurt but it helped to ground him in the moment - especially considering just how bizarre he considered this whole thing.

“You alright Nygma?” Bruce said as he noticed what Ed was doing.

“Hm?” The question seemed to lag behind as he heard it.

“Are yo-“

“Oh oh yeah I’m fine.” He cut off as it finally processed. 

“You seem kind of.. uh, out of it.” 

“Oh, how the tables turn.” 

Snorting, Bruce turns a corner and they start down a long, long driveway. He had been here before so it made no logical sense to be nervous. And yet here he was, picking away at his skin and running through all the possible scenarios. 

It could be a trap! But that didn’t sound like Bruce. Bruce was an honest, genuine guy. The epitome of a hero. An opposite to Ed. 

Maybe it was a setup. A setup to get him sent back to Arkham. That didn’t make any sense though, why would it be a setup? More logically it was just that Batman needed to use him to help solve some crimes.

The spectacles on his nose dipped slightly as the car stopped. They had arrived at the Wayne Manor gate - which just meant even more driving down the ridiculously long driveway. Which was not helped by the fact they were driving oddly slow.

The gate opened without the other man even doing anything, and so they continued their silent drive. Bruce drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as Ed continued to pick at the loose skin around his nails. They were almost there and then it would all make sense. Hopefully, it would all make sense.

After he had agreed to work for Bruce they decided it would be best for Edward to stay at the manor; especially considering that people like Flass wanted him dead and he had nowhere to go anyways. So it was logical that he would agree to move in with Bruce. 

“So, is that bag really all that you have?” Gesturing to the bag at Ed’s feet as he drove.

“Yep,” popping his lips at the end of the word, “Just some puzzles, hygiene stuff, and what I’m wearing. Arkham is generous as always.”

“I can have Alfred pick up some more clothes for you if you want. And anything else you need, of course.” 

“As long as it is something besides this uniform it sounds good to me. And green, of course. Or purple, brown works too! Also make sure the fabric isn’t itchy or scratchy or makes that awful grating noise akin to a-“ At this point, he wasn't sure if he was rambling out of nervousness or to be annoying- either way, he was thankful when Bruce cut him off.

“I have the feeling you want to pick out your own clothes.”

“Correct! You know me so well Bruce.” Smiling lightly as he finished. All he could do was hope that Bruce wouldn’t see how nervous he was as long as he played his part well enough; life is just a big stage after all.

“In that case, we can go shopping tomorrow if you’d like.”

“ We ?”

Bruce rolled his eyes before responding, “Yes ‘we’ . You don’t have a car, and I doubt you are allowed to have a license anyway, so you’ll need someone to drive you.”

“Just because I’m not allowed to drive doesn't mean I can’t!”

“I am not willing to risk one of Alfred’s or I’s cars on that.”

“Touche’ touche’.” And that seemed to be the end of that conversation. So he just started to wring his hands as he looked out the window to see them pulling up to the Manor. 

Both of the men got out of the car at the same time. Car doors slammed shut as they started their walk to the main entrance, the distance of which seemed to stretch on and on for Edward until they finally reached it. 

“That drive felt like it took ageessss” Stretching out the last word far longer than necessary. 

Bruce chuckled slightly as the door opened to reveal a somewhat confused butler.

“Ah, Master Bruce! Welcome back.” Alfred smiled at Bruce before looking at Nygma. “And Mr. Nashton. What brings you here?” 

Hoping that neither of them noticed him tense up he looked at Bruce, 

“You didn’t tell him?”

“I- Uh..”

“Tell me what , Bruce?”

“Well that-“

“That I’m moving in!” A shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he finished the sentence for Bruce.

“I see. You really should tell me these things.” The butler huffed in annoyance before gesturing for the other two to follow him inside.

“I would like a word, Bruce,” Alfred said as he lightly grabbed his arm to pull him off to the side.

Which left Ed alone. Like usual.

The Manor looked the same but felt different. It was his home now, even if it didn’t feel like it. Echos of his shoes sounding out with each step, the overall grandeur of everything (which for someone as flamboyant as himself you'd think would be appealing, and how everything felt so open. It all put him on edge. 

Overall it was a nice place, a perfect big house with plenty of space, most of which probably went without use for months. It was an interesting experience when not being snuck into the place, the front entrance served for a much more elegant perspective even if it made him uneasy. 

Walls filled with paintings and pictures surrounded him, mostly those of landscapes and the occasional family photos. Family. What were the Wayne’s like before everything happened? They seemed happy in all these photos, but if anyone knew how looks could be deceiving, it was Edward. Anyone and everyone can act, put on a performance. That was probably what all this was - an act to get Edward to do something. Help put the other Rouges in jail and then get shipped back to Arkham for more “help”. Work for Bruce and then get thrown out like trash when the job is done. They had done it before; after he helped find Bruce he was sent back to Arkham. A fool, that's what he was for thinking he actually had friends. No one can put up with him for long, so then it's onto the next person, and after that onto the next.

It was tiring but it's how life goes. One rat race after the next.

“Nashton?”

It was Bruce’s voice, but all he could think of were the Arkham staff. And his family. His hands clenched as his whole body went slightly tense,

“Nygma.” The correction, he hoped, had the tone of neutrality or even just slight annoyance. His gaze remained on the family photo of the Waynes as he continued,

“My name isn’t ‘Nashton’. It's Edward. Edward E Nygma, and that's it.”

“Oh- Uh of course. Apologies Edward.” 

He only gave a curt nod before he turned around to face the other man. The expression he wore was one of neutrality; but his eyes gave the impression of… sadness? It was corrected quickly as Edward gave a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“So,” he started as he clapped his hands together, “where will I be staying exactly?”

“Oh yes, follow me,” Bruce said as he walked past him and to the stairs.

“Alrighty Captain Batsy,” He said with a teasing tone.

Bruce just snorted slightly as he started to climb the stairs with the other man right on his heels.

————————

The room was large. Too large for his liking. So they decided to instead look through a few rooms in the manor, ultimately settling on once almost to Ed’s liking. 

A slanted ceiling on one end, medium-sized leaning on the smaller end, a nice twin-sized bed, small dresser, window on the ceiling, overall a decent room. 

Except for the fact, that it was hardwood flooring, but that would be fine, just a minor annoyance. Maybe he could just convince Bruce to buy a rug to put in here? Probably, but he was already a pain in the ass. 

Standing in the middle of the room he did another quick scan of the room before turning around to Bruce who still stood in the doorway. 

“So is this one to your liking?” Voice grumbling with minor annoyance. 

“Very much so! Although I hoped for more furniture..” Feigning mock disappointment as Bruce rolled his eyes, “I suppose we will just have to add this to our shopping trip tomorrow!” 

“I suppose so,” He smiled awkwardly before continuing, “Welp. I suppose I’ll leave you to settle in, dinner will be ready in an hour or so.” 

Ed gave a curt nod before turning around again. 

So this is home now. It doesn’t feel like home, but he didn’t even know what home felt like it anyways. All there was to unpack was put away quickly, and sitting on a bed fiddling with an all too easy Rubix cube was not his ideal entertainment, to say the least. 

“Ugh I’m bored, I thought living here would be fun!” He started as he plopped onto his back with his arms to his side, “This house is unimaginably boring, shocking considering Bruce fucking Wayne lives here!”

“Hey, you're the one who decided to come here. So shut up and stop complaining.” He retorted to himself.

“Yes yes, I know that. We came here to work for Batman and to sell our co-workers down shit creek and into Arkham.”

“Precisely. So don’t push your luck.”

“We both know I’m going to do just that. Good Ol ‘push them away before they push you away!”

“How predictable for us, huh?.”

“Took the words right outa my mouth, literally.” He chuckled at that. What was he even doing? 

“God I must be crazy. Maybe a trip back to Arkham wouldn't be the worst thing..” a small crease between his eyebrows formed at the last part before quickly adding in a nervous tone, “Not that I want to go back or anything! So don’t take that out of context.” Eyes narrowed in mock suspicion as he wagged his finger to the ceiling. 

And just like that silence enveloped the room once more. He sat, and sat, and sat . It was unbearable, no stimulation. Hell, the walls weren’t even painted. Just a mostly empty room with no character or flare or anything! Just being in the room in its current state agitated him. With that final thought, he shot up deciding to do virtually anything but sit in this room one moment longer. 

Surely Bruce wouldn’t mind him taking a look around the manor, right? No. Of course not. It had only been about twenty minutes from his estimant, forty minutes was more than enough time to explore a bit. Squeaking as the handle turned, he opened the door and ventured down the hall.

Chapter Text

Unsurprisingly, the halls were gloomy. The only light was coming in through the windows; most of which had curtains halfway drawn. At least it was easier on the eyes than himself.

The whole floor seemed to be empty; nothing but rooms for storage, one lounge area, and a few spare bedrooms. At the very least it meant he could bring something back to his room, it probably wasn’t a crime to move something from one room to another right? But that could wait until later- for now he was focused on exploring. 

Compared to the rest of the manor this floor was honestly kind of small, not to mention boring. It was probably time for dinner anyway.

Turns out, the manor’s layout was even more complicated than first thought. Five above-ground floors (not even counting the attic), one basement, and then another area under that one aka the Batcave- which had four floors on its own. The layout felt like a logistic nightmare and hell to construct, but that wasn’t his current problem. The current problem is: ‘“Where the fuck am I and how the hell did I get to another dead end?”’

He let out a frustrated huff as he continued to wander. 

“Dinner is going to be starting soooonnnn” groaning in annoyance as he climbs down another flight of stairs, “And! I’m fucking starving!”

Another corner turned and just another long hallway. 

“God damn it where is the fucking dining room,” he grumbled as he continued on into the labyrinth that was this manor. How did anyone get around in here, the whole grandiose scale just served to make it even more confusing! 

“Rich people will be rich people I suppose..” Mumbling as he walked. Another turn and another hallway; and suddenly he was flat on his back with a hand over his nose. 

“OW-”

“Riddler?? Why are you here?”

“YOU PUNCHED ME IN MY FUCKING FACE BABS! WHY?”

“YOU SNUCK UP ON ME!” She yelled defensively and crossed her arms.

“I- Okay, fair enough I guess. BUT STILL- YOU PUNCHED ME IN THE MONEY MAKER!” 

With a groan she repeats the question, “Once again, WHY are you here?”

“I LIVE HERE!”

“NO, YOU DON’T.”

“For fucks sake, does Bruce not tell anyone here anything?!” Asking mostly himself as he sat up fully, “I moved in here today. Thanks for the welcome gift, Babs.” Voice laced with sarcasm as he gestured his other hand to his face.

“Shit Ed I’m Sorry- Did I break anything?”

“Nah Nah, I’ll be finneee. I’ve had worse anyways,” Smiling as he started to move to stand up. 

“Bruce is going to be pissed at me..”

“Babs. You just saw a well-known crook walking down the hall of the richest person in Gotham’s manor with seemingly no reason. I feel that just causes to punch someone in the face, don’t you?”

“I guess you’re right-”

“Barbara,” he cuts her off as he stands fully, dusting himself off, “I’m always right. You’ll be fine. Promise.” 

Barbara opens her mouth to reply before getting cut off with a question, “Why are you here anyway? Did ol Brucey ask you to move in as well?” Edward asked mockingly as he cocked his head to the side.

“Yes actually, I’m assisting him as a vigilante now,” she replied as she stuck her chin up slightly with pride.

“Well, I guess that makes us co-workers! How fun we get to work together every day now!” 

“I'm sorry, what? ” That pride she had only moments ago deflated with those two sentences.

“Ohh yeah yeah, Bruce asked me to move in here and to help him with the night job! I’m a,” pausing for dramatic effect, “reformed criminal turned vigilante!” Of course doing jazz hands to go along with the statement.

“You can't be serious-“

“I'm always serious Babs. I’m a very serious person.” 

“And we both know that's a lie. And you are apparently right because Bruce mentioned none of this to me.”

“Thought so, y'know, from the fist to my face!”

“I said I was sorry!”

“I know I know I’m just teasing. Anyways, do you know where the dining room is? Bruce said dinner would be ready about an hour ago..”

“Really? I just punched you in the face and you’re asking about dinner?” Raising an eyebrow as she stares at him.

“Yes, I’m asking about dinner! I haven’t had a good meal in yeeeaaarrrrs, and plus! Dinner at the Wayne Manor seems more fun than staying in my room.”

“Fair enough,” She turned on her heels and started to walk down the hall before calling out over her shoulder, “C’mon Riddler it’s this way.”

This hall (like all the others in this god-forsaken manor) was needlessly long. Yet despite that, they reached the dining room a minute later. 

It actually wasn’t what Eddie had expected, which was normally a first, but this place is chalked full of surprises. The room itself was decently sized- but not the grand hall he had imagined. But none of that really mattered to him, what did matter though, was the smell of food in the kitchen. 

Before he could even think he was walking to the kitchen before Barbara grabbed his arm - tensing as she did so but shrugging it off. She whipped him around to look at her and started, 

“Ri- Ed , the kitchen is off-limits to everyone except Alfred and Ace. So unless you have a death wish don’t go in there.”

“Ah okay got it-” swiveling his body back towards the kitchen as best as he could, “go into the kitchen!”

“No-”

“I’m kidding Babs! But what if I want coffee or something and Pennyworth isn’t here? What then?”

“I’ll tell you after dinner- if I don’t eat something soon I might just punch you again.” She grumbled while she moved to take a seat at the table, gesturing for Edward to do the same.

The silence was a tad awkward, to say the least. For all Ed knew he had probably already annoyed her enough for a request to be made asking him to leave. Which was fine! Totally fine. He could always rebuild his career- he didn’t need anyone's help. Fending for himself was almost second nature at this point. The world is a cold place and Gotham was no different- a lesson made very clear time and time again. So maybe it wouldn’t hurt to appreciate some kindness, even if it was to use him for something. Wait- where the hell is Bruce? Dinner is going to be ready soon so what could we possibly be doing?

—-----------------------

Paperwork was a pain, and sadly one that Bruce knew too well. Surprise surprise; being a vigilante and the main protector of Gotham didn’t leave as much time for his company! But it was alright he only had... A few stacks to get done. He’d probably have to take dinner in his office again- like every night. The workload wasn’t being helped either with all the new problems popping up in the city (mainly still concerning Isley and installing new security everywhere). Bruce sighed and sat his head on the desk- - why did work have to seep into every part of his life? For heaven’s sake, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had a day off! Each day was the same; Do the night job, go to your actual job, do paperwork, rinse and repeat. It was exhausting but at least he had Barbara. And Eddie. And Eddie. No- he was Riddler. The Riddler who was a career crook and terrorized Gotham for years was on his side now. He made a mental note to ask why that was at a later date.

Paperwork was his top priority right now; which after saying that in his had sounds much more depressing than he meant it to. Pick up a sheet, skim it a few times, sign, and put it in a new pile. That was the routine and it had worked well enough up to this point to where he could be done in an hour. Or two... Okay, maybe three but that was fine! He didn’t have any plans anyway. Wait- for christ's sake, he forgot he had to take Eddie into town tomorrow. Doesn’t matter, that is tomorrow Bruce’s problem. Ed had mentioned no scratchy fabric though, and those Arkham uniforms were definitely not the best in terms of comfort. Not to mention he also didn’t have anything to wear tonight... Maybe he should send Alfred to get something for Ed to wear? Bruce didn’t know what size he was though, not to mention he would probably be picky with the clothes. He could just ask but the question might come off as weird.

Why did social interactions have to be so hard? Their conversation had flowed so easily in Egypt but now it just felt… off. He sat back up fuller and started to reach for the phone to call Alfred. It wouldn’t be fair to have Edward sleep in his old uniform so he’d just have to guess his size. Bruce picked up the phone and started to call Al-

KNOCK 

             KNOCK 

                         KNOCK

Bruce nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden noise before he set the phone back down, “uh- Come in!” Embarrassed slightly how uneven his voice was before he turned his attention back to the paperwork in front of him.

Creaking as the door opened, he saw a flash of orange hair as Eddie stuck his head in, “Hey-a crusader! Uh, me and Babs were wondering when you would be down for dinner?” Bruce raised an eyebrow as he looked at him which made Ed roll his eyes in mock annoyance, “Okay, I was wondering- are you seriously doing paperwork?” Cutting himself off as he eyed the aforementioned work.

“Yes, I am seriously doing paperwork. And just tell Alfred to send my food up here, please.”

“Alrighty then,” Ed replied with a slight smile and a nod before closing the door and leaving.

He probably had about four to six minutes until Alfred would be up with his food, which gave him more time to do work at least. The work needed to be done, yet his eyes were still focused on the door where Eddie was only a moment before. Edward came all the way up here just to ask about dinner? More so ask about him ? That didn’t make sense. He finally peeled his eyes away from the door and back to the task at hand.

Next up were rough sketches for the new vaults. After that whole disaster with Isley ha and Barbara agreed to make multiples, just in case. And also make a new memory key which he had yet to do... The only people (besides him and Barbara) that knew were dead now. A short sigh escaped him and he set the plans aside to read over them while eating, instead opting to look over plans for an expansion to the botany sector. Logistically it would make sense as he had asked for test to be run on the tree that Isley was after (which resulted in multiple findings which far exceed the department) but there was also the problem of finances and-

Knock

          Knock

                    Knock

“Come in,” not looking up from his work until he heard silver wear and bowls clanking together- something that was definitely not something that Alfred would let happen. And it wasn’t, because instead of Alfred it was

“Eddie?” 

“Oh, so you're calling me Eddie now?” He mused as he shut the door with his foot and walked over to Bruce’s desk.

Bruce opted to ignore the question instead, “What are you doing- And why do you have two bowls?”

“Oh come onnnn Bruce,” Ed groaned, “Mr ‘world's greatest detective’ and you seriously can’t figure that out?” He continued but not before Bruce shot him a skeptical glare, “I’m here to help, duh! And as for the bowls, I am not skipping out on my first meal out of Arkham to do so.” endining with a fake huff of annoyance as he sat the bowls down and snatched a few papers from the pile.

“Hey!-”

“Hmm this is interesting,” commented as he did a little spin and sat down across from Bruce and started to eat.

“Holy shit this is good!” Ed murmured through a mouth full of food which the other man snorted at.

“Yeah, Alfred’s cooking is some of the best,” affirming the statement as he sat the work to the side and took a bite of his own food.

The two of them stayed like that for some time; eating their dinner together while trying to do paperwork, not efficiently though as Ed so kindly pointed out (not like he was helping in that department though-). Eddie listed off some fun facts and riddles while Bruce did most the same (aside from riddles as Ed pointed out it was “his shtick”). Laughter filled the air of the office as did the shuffling of papers. Even if he still didn’t know why Eddie had agreed to work with him, or even why he was seemingly going out of his way to help with the day job, it was always nice to have an extra set of hands to help out. Especially when they belonged to a genius like him. “Many hands make light work” as they say.

And they did just that. Before he even realized they had both finished their dinner and the work; and yet neither of them opted to retire for the night, instead they moved their conversation to one of the lounge rooms on what Eddie deemed “my floor of the Wayne estate”. Now sitting on the couch with a cup of tea in his hand and a plate of sweets in Ed’s lap. He seemed so much more relaxed now than he had only a few hours ago. It seemed almost off-putting if he were, to be honest. Although The Riddler was a notorious actor- so he had to try to remember this could just be an act. But this wasn't The Riddler; This was Eddie. And besides, if it was an act- it was a very charming one. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would be calling Edward Nygma of all people charming. But for a man with such a wide vocabulary, for the life of him, he couldn’t find a better word to describe him as.

Eddie was simply charming.

Chapter Text

They continued on in conversation for a while into the night (apparently Batgirl had the patrol shift tonight). Ed was now lounging under a plush blanket with his plate of deserts mostly eaten by now, while Bruce’s tea had been finished for a while. They laughed and exchanged tidbits of information, nothing too deep but just easy things like “what's your favorite color?” (Green for Edward because of course, and blue for Bruce) “Sweet or savory?” (Both agreed on sweet) “Favorite movie?” (Bruce’s was “Adams Family Values” and Ed said he didn’t have a clear favorite but liked “1985”, “Space Balls”, “Mama Mia”, and “Carrie”.) and then “Hey can I ask a more, uh, serious question?”

He gave Ed a quizzical look before nodding.

“I was wondering… why did you ask me to work for you? Like the real reason. It can’t just be that I already knew your identity because I wasn’t going to tell anyone else besides Babs! And- and it can’t just be because I saved your life. Surely you know I did it for a chance at parole, right? So why would the moral compass of Gotham ask a crook to work for him?” Ed turned his head away from Bruce and stared at the plate in his lap, “It just doesn’t make any logical sense to me.” He let out a humorless chuckle, and for a second Bruce swore he could see a glimpse of sadness in his green eyes, but it was gone too fast to know if it ever even existed.

“So,” Eddie quickly picked up a cookie from the plate and took a bite out of it as he turned back to Bruce, any true vulnerability gone as he went back to his normal self, “why did you choose me? We’re you that desperate for some help that you asked a criminal fresh out of an asylum?” 

“First off, I was not desperate,” laughing lightly, “And second off, It does make logical sense, to me at least, maybe not to a genius logician such as yourself, but it does to me. If not for you I would be dead and two-thirds of the world. You helped to save those lives, Eddie. So I figured with that and you having just been at Arkham,” And the Egypt trip… but he opted to leave that part out, “that it would be worth it to see if you would agree to work with me. And you did. Which in all honesty I thought that you would say no.”

“And why was that?”

“Because…” Bruce started but trailed off again, trying to search for the right words.

“Because you thought I would be mad at you,” The other one supplied for him while taking another bite of the sweet.

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

“Well, for the record, I am not mad at you. Putting me back in Arkham was the best decision,” he turned his head to look at Bruce before continuing, “Plus, if not for you having Alfred drive me to the hospital, I would be dead behind that bulletproof counter!” Forcing himself to add a slight laugh to the end.

The pair sat in silence for a while, the carefree tone they had a few minutes ago had dissipated. Ed finished up his food and left the room to get some sleep. Bruce was all alone again. He stole a glance at the clock, it was 2:23 am which meant that Barbara would probably still be out on patrol, Alfred was probably asleep as well. He let out a sigh and retired to bed as well.

—-----------------------------------------------

Patrol was a fucking nightmare. It was freezing on the rooftops, and of course! He had ZERO winter wear! If he froze to death he was NEVER going to let Bruce forget it. Surprise surprise- A hoodie and sweatpants were not adequate clothing for a New Jersey winter, especially a New Jersey winter in Gotham City. In all honesty, he wasn’t even sure why he was here. Babs had been the one to suggest all three of them go on patrol; Even though Ed was not one for on-field work like this. Maybe it was just so that he would leave the Manor, or even his floor in the manor- I mean it isn’t his fault that he has no reason to. It's comfortable, there's a bathroom, Alfred brings him food, he has all his stuff there, so there isn’t a reason to leave. 

It had been nine days since he was released from Arkham, he really should cherish the fresh air before he gets sent back eventually. Bruce stood a few feet from him, looking out over the city for any sign of Babs as she patrolled. Sounds of traffic and talking from below filled the air as he took in the lights of Gotham. It almost felt like white noise to him at this point. Crouching over the side of the building as Ed focused on everything around.

“Fun fact!” The ginger started before even realizing he was speaking, “The sound decibels in the average American city rest at eighty-five! Which means that prolonged exposure can cause hearing loss over time. It also contributes to overall agitation in the population,” he finishes the fact and almost instantly realized that Bruce probably didn’t give a shi-

“Hm, interesting. Maybe that' 's why Gotham has so many problems.” 

“Yeah, maybe. But I don’t think having a clown, chemical warfare thanksgiving decoration, and a guy who dresses like a kite running around can be solved by fixing the decibels.”

Bruce nodded, “Yeah, probably not.”

“A-although, if you did want to fix the decibels it would be near impossible for this city.” Why was he feeling nervous? Spouting facts and riddles was like second nature to him- even if it annoyed the living hell out of everyone else. Bruce didn’t seem annoyed though. Which made zero sense since Ed was being annoying. 

“Why would that be?” Bruce had now moved to sit next to Edward now. It would be a bit until Batgirl was back anyways.

“Well, the reason the decibel count is so high is attributed to traffic, infrastructure, subways, and talking. To get the traffic element eliminated would mean to make proper biking infrastructure and eliminate the need for cars. Well as much as you can eliminate that element. Subways are mostly fine as they are, and honestly, it would be worse to remove them since that would make cars more needed,” Ed paused for a moment to look at Bruce. People were challenging enough to read and the cowl certainly didn’t help. All things considered, he hadn’t told him to stop talking yet.

“Although, bikes themselves would need an overhaul in order to qualify as adequate transportation. The bikes that we have currently in America don’t make for good day-to-day transport since they are built for recreational usage. However, Dutch bikes are built for that. They have stolid frames instead of the hollow ones we have, which allows for a second person to ride and for transporting items like groceries. Then there is also the step-through frames, the difference in the handle types, weather and clothing accommodations, lights, locks, etcetera. Overall dutch bikes are superior for everyday use but American bikes are better for sports and recreationa- I’m rambling aren’t I…” 

“Yeah but it’s fine. It's an interesting topic, Gotham has a terrible layout anyways. I would know especially since I spend my free time jumping from building to building,” he laughed a bit. 

“Very true. When is Babs going to be back?”

“She should be back in… I don’t have a watch,” he hangs his head as Ed starts to laugh.

“Well, that is no good. Do you have an estimate for how long it will be?”

“About an hour I think,” Bruce replied, which only served to annoy the other man more.

He still didn’t even understand why he was here. More work would be getting done if he was at the manor sorting through files and evidence! It would be more efficient to do that; plus if anyone saw The Riddler and Batman working together the media would go nuts over it. Headlines like: “Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne seen with known criminal and thief The Riddler” or “Batman seen working with The Riddler” It's more trouble to drag him out on patrol.

Another breeze blew past him, pushing his hair into his face slightly and sending a chill down his spine. If anything it felt even colder now than it had a few minutes ago as he curled up into himself; knees coming to press against his chest and arms to sit atop them. Even still, Barbara was nowhere to be seen, and it most likely would stay that way for the next hour unless something came up. Ed’s arms crossed as he pulled his legs in closer. If it would give even slightly more warmth he'd stay like this. It is honestly a miracle that it hasn’t started to snow yet; especially considering how rainy and cold this wretched city is.  

Moment after moment passed and started to blend together as Edward slipped into a neutral feeling of cold and numbness. Irises peeked out from the rims of his glasses only to be further obscured by stray strands of hair falling over his face. Another breeze and another chill. A police siren in the distance, shouting from the streets, glass breaking in the distance, gunfire, car horns honking, white noise. 

Feelings were tiring. Part of the reason Ed opted to operate on logic more than anything. Well, that and compulsion. And the occasional feelings. Feelings were an enigma. 

Despite how nice the manor was he hadn’t actually had a good night’s sleep since he moved in nine days ago. Hell, he hadn’t even slept in the last fifty-seven hours- maybe that's why he felt so tired and numb. It's that nice numbness you get after staying up all night and passing out for a bit only to wake up with little strength, wobbly legs, and yet a refreshed head and tired eyes. 

It would be a bit until Babs was back anyways, he could stand to rest his eyes for a second.

Yeah, just a second though.

—-----------------------------------------------

Bruce had been staring at the horizon for a while since he decided not to talk again after seeing the annoyance on Ed’s face. Although maybe he had read it wrong. Forty-seven minutes until Batgirl was estimated to return. Thank the lord that the batsuit was heated and wind resistant (a feature added after his first winter working his night job).

City sounds float through the air as he closes his eyes. Focusing on his surroundings. It was a grounding technique that Barbara had suggested- just a way to calm himself down since he refused to see a therapist. I mean it’s not his fault that he panics every time someone suggests he go, it was Strange’s fault. Or was it Isley’s? Stirk’s? Ultimately it was someone’s fault. And no matter what three of them were dead- closure was never a thing that Bruce got. A fact that is made clearer with every passing year.

His parents, the shooter responsible, his parents being disappointed in him, Stirk stabbing him, wasting away in the morgue, the meds, the lights, his mom found those organs- no you can’t count those they aren’t real. 

That didn’t happen.

Nothing happened.

Of course, you can’t get closure for things that don’t happen.

The one thing he had gotten closure on was Jim’s stabbing, and even that was taken from him. Because Ri- Edward - hadn’t stabbed him. It was Flass. Ed was by no means an innocent man, but for all the things to land him in Arkham the longest, it was something he never even did.

He wasn’t even sure If Ed knew that he knew. Babs had been the one to tell him before he left for Egypt. Why had he resigned so easily to being labeled as the man who ruined a (mostly) beloved cop’s career? Ed always took credit for his own work, and never for someone else’s. 

So why had he just rolled with stabbing Gordon, why did he take credit for what Flass did, why-

Bruce’s muscles tensed suddenly as he felt something fall against his shoulder and came back to the current moment. Sounds of sirens and cars flooded back into his ears, followed by the feeling of his body resting on the ledge of the building, along with the smell of incoming rain and wet trash from the streets. 

Breathe, Bruce.

Deep breath in, and out.

Deep breath in, and out.

In and out.

In and out...

Bruce let out a sigh as hung his head slightly. He didn’t know how long he was zoned out but it was at least long enough fo- 

Oh.

So that's what that was.

Seemingly, in the time that Bruce had been zoned out (and bordering on panicking), Ed had fallen asleep. And now has his head resting on his shoulder and the left side of his body was pressed against Bruce’s right. It took him a moment to register that Eddie was shaking slightly. 

Bruce moved his cape to shield Eddie from the cold before he even realized it. I mean what else would he do? Definitely not let his friend freeze. He made a note to get some proper winter wear for the other man later. Barbara would be back soon, then patrol would be over for the night. A few more minutes. For a few more minutes he gets to be this close to Edward without him tensing up.

The ginger probably thought Bruce hadn’t noticed the small tensing every time he used the name Nashton. Maybe he should ask him about it sometime?