Chapter Text
It’s mid-October in Gotham and the weather has never been worse. Water is pouring down from the sky like an Old Testament God is trying to save the city by drowning everyone wandering its streets. The rain doesn’t stop the people from filling the streets even after the sun has set. The main streets are mostly safe if you aren’t afraid of big crowds, but the moment you step into the smaller side alleys, you’re on your own.
Above the streets, prying over the dark alleys, there is a shadow. A shadow that is constantly watching, a shadow that guards the people who need it and stops the ones who would get drowned if there was a God. A shadow that has a name that only gets whispered out loud.
Bruce sits on a rooftop, cloaked in the darkness surrounding him. Being on patrol tonight feels like a mistake considering the rain. It makes everything darker. The shadows are starker and the city lights reflect on the wet surfaces, making the city look like one big mirror room in an amusement park’s funhouse. The rain also makes everything wet, and Bruce is certain that he will get sick. He will hear from Alfred for that.
It has been a relatively quiet night for him. He has only come across two criminal gangs, one of which’s members lost their courage and ran away the moment they saw him, and one that wasn’t even a challenge for him. Bruce knows that he should be glad for the lack of violence in the streets, but he can’t help a sinister feeling that the city is waiting, its quietness being only calm before the storm. Something is boiling beneath the surface and it's only a matter of time until it erupts and drowns everyone in whatever it is.
Bruce's thoughts are interrupted when he hears two voices talking in the alley beneath him. Bruce pulls his cloak tighter around himself and swifts around to see what is happening down there, the rain drowning out the sounds of his boots against the rooftop.
The alley is just a narrow path between two buildings, almost blocked by two trash cans. Still, Bruce can see two figures standing in the shadows, one with his back against the wall and the other holding him by the collar of his jacket. Bruce stays still, observing from afar. Sometimes these situations solve themselves and he doesn't have to step in. In this case, he feels like that isn't going to happen.
"I don't have anything more on me," the man with his back against the wall says. Bruce can see him holding his wallet out. The other man scoffs, and Bruce can see him pull something from underneath the edge of his jacket. It's a gun.
Bruce doesn't wait longer. He jumps down the roof, the fall not being long at all, grabbing both men's attention by doing so. The man with the gun lets go of the other man and turns to look at Bruce with a confused expression. No one says anything, the only sound being the rain against the trashcans. Bruce counts the seconds in his head. He's going to give the gunman 15 seconds to run.
The man doesn't take off, instead, he points the gun at Bruce who he probably thinks is dumb enough to not notice that the safety is still on. Bruce takes two fast steps forward, grabs the man by his arm, and twists it so that he lets go of the gun. Then he grabs him by the collar of his jacket and slams him against the wall, right next to the man who was getting robbed just seconds ago, before finally throwing him against the trash cans. Both the trash cans and the man fall, making a loud sound that gets mixed into the chaotic concerto of Gotham's night. The man scrambles onto his feet, looks at Bruce with his eyes wide with fear, and takes off into the darkness.
Bruce's heart is beating in his ears and for a moment he forgets the other man who is still standing with his back against the wall. Bruce turns to look at the man slowly, expecting him to cry and shake like many people he's encountered. Instead, the man just looks at him, holding his wallet out for Bruce.
"Just take it, I don't have anything to do with him," he says and doesn't sound as scared as he sounds tired. Bruce looks at the man without saying a word. It's hard to make out his face underneath the wet hair and the glasses he's wearing. Bruce can't see his eyes through the water droplets covering his glasses and he doubts that the man can see him either. Otherwise, the man is very ordinary. He's wearing a dark coat that isn't made for weather like this and on the ground next to him there is a plastic bag full of soaked groceries — just another unlucky person.
"I don't want it," Bruce says. The man puts his wallet away and takes off his glasses to see who he's talking with. He squints to see Bruce better before realizing who is actually standing in front of him. The man's eyes widen in an almost cartoonish manner and he quickly dries his glasses on the hem of his coat and puts them back on as if to check if he's seeing right. Now that they're looking at each other face to face, Bruce notices that the man is actually about his height even though he looked smaller only moments before. Actually, he might even be taller than Bruce if his posture was better.
The man looks at Bruce in disbelief, and Bruce is waiting for him to run away without a word. Instead, the man speaks.
"I can't believe it's actually you," he says, sounding out of breath. Bruce frowns, not sure if the man is completely sane or knows who he is talking to. The man continues: "I mean– I mean, I've seen you on the news, I've heard stories, but I didn't know if you were real. But here you are, the Batman."
Bruce doesn't know what to answer. He had expected fear and tears on the man's part, but the man is looking at him like he's the sun. Bruce isn't exactly used to situations like this.
The man seems to interpret Bruce's silence as a sign that he's said something wrong and turns to look away to collect himself. When he looks back at Bruce his expression, as well as his voice, are much more controlled.
"I meant… thank you for saving me," he says and looks Bruce straight into his eyes. Bruce can only nod. The man picks up his bag of groceries, smiles at Bruce, and walks away onto the more crowded street.
Bruce doesn't move for a moment, puzzled by the man's subtle strangeness. Still, he doesn't give the man too much thought. Gotham is full of strange people, Bruce not being better than any of them.
***
Bruce doesn’t think he will cross paths with the man again after that. There are so many people in Gotham that it’s very rare to run into a complete stranger more than two times at most. Not that Bruce even remembers most of the people he meets during his nightly patrols. Nights and faces morph together easily, and Bruce has a hard time remembering any of them in the morning. Also, most people would rather not run into him twice.
But there are always exceptions.
It’s been two weeks since the encounter in the dark alley, even though if you ask Bruce, it could have been two days or two months ago. For once it’s not raining, but the rooftop under Bruce’s shoes is still damp. It seems like it’s never dry in Gotham. Bruce has been sitting there for an hour now, not sure if he wants to keep on waiting or just go home. He can hear the noises coming from the Iceberg Lounge a couple of blocks away, knowing that there will be many drunk fights he has to break up when the clubbing people decide to leave at dawn. Just the thought of it exhausts him.
As he’s thinking of leaving to get something to eat from home, Bruce hears a creaking sound coming from the fire escape. Someone is climbing onto the roof. Bruce hides behind an AC unit and watches the comer from the shadows. The man – Bruce believes it’s a man from the tall frame and low breathing – climbs onto the roof and looks around. Bruce can’t see his face, only that he’s wearing a raincoat and carrying a backpack. The man walks over to the railing of the roof, the city lights forming a glowing halo around him, and pulls out a cigarette and a lighter. Bruce watches as the man lights the cigarette and blows out smoke. He hopes that the man would leave soon because crouching behind the AC unit is making his legs hurt. Finally, the man turns to look towards the shadows where Bruce is hiding, and that’s when Bruce recognizes him.
It’s the man from the alley, now dryer than last time. The man seems to be waiting for someone, pacing back and forth nervously. Bruce swifts a little, his cape making a sound against the concrete roof and catching the man’s attention. The man stares into the darkness with the cigarette between his lips, and Bruce counts his options. Well, he only has two; to run away or towards the man. Before he can do either, the man speaks.
“I know you’re there,” he says with a slight smile. Bruce’s heart beats a bit faster. The man drops the cigarette and stamps it with his shoe before taking off his backpack. “I, uh, I have coffee, in case you want some.”
Bruce has been in weirder situations, but this one is completely new. The man just stands still, waiting and holding a thermos bottle in his hands. He looks very harmless, and even though Bruce knows that looks can be misguiding, he can’t help but trust the man’s face. And so he steps out of the shadows.
The man looks at him and the smile on his face grows. Then he turns around and walks back to the railing. Bruce follows him. The man sits down and lets his legs hang over the edge of the roof. Bruce does the same. It feels strange, being up there with someone, and Bruce feels a bit unnerved. He doesn’t know what the man wants or why he’s here. The whole thing might be a trap. Still, Bruce doesn’t leave. He sits still and watches as the man pours coffee into two travel mugs and hands the other one to Bruce. Bruce holds the mug in his hands, savoring its warmth, but doesn’t drink.
“I just wanted to thank you for saving me the other night,” the man says. He’s looking at Bruce as if he’s trying to remember every little detail for later. Bruce looks down at his hands and gives only a grunt in answer. Does the man think he’s stupid? The man opens his mouth again to say something but Bruce speaks first.
“I know you’ve been following me,” he says. The man’s words seem to get caught in his throat and he looks away. Now it’s Bruce’s turn to study the man’s face, his round cheeks, long nose, and heavy eyelids, the dark blonde hair tugged behind his ear. He’s a bit strange looking, but that just keeps Bruce’s eyes on him.
“Well, I... I was wondering if I could find you,” the man says and takes a nervous sip from his mug. “And I did.” He lets out a small laugh and looks at Bruce. The city lights reflect on his glasses and Bruce can’t look away.
“What’s your name?” Bruce asks. He isn’t sure why, but he feels like this moment requires him to know the man’s name. The man looks at him and blinks in disbelief.
“Edward,” he says.
“Last name?”
“Nygma.”
Bruce nods. Edward looks down and chuckles.
“I guess there’s no point in asking your name,” he says and glances at Bruce.
“Yeah,” Bruce says and almost smiles too. Neither of them says anything after that but the silence is more comfortable than the one Bruce is used to. To his surprise, Bruce finds himself trusting Edward to the extent of taking a sip of the coffee. It’s sickly sweet with way too much cream and sugar, but Bruce drinks it anyway. The noises from the streets below sound more muted to him now and Bruce doesn’t feel so alert. He doesn’t know if it’s a good thing.
“How did you find me?” he asks Edward when he reaches the bottom of his mug. Edward leans against the railing and shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
“It’s not that hard. Just follow the beat-up criminals,” he says.
“That’s a lot of work to just offer a mug of coffee,” Bruce points out. Edward glances at him and smiles.
“Maybe, but it was worth it,” he says. “It’s not like people get to sit around with Batman that often. Unless I’m wrong, of course.”
“No, you’re right,” Bruce says. “So, you’re a fan, huh?”
Edward only shrugs with a smile but doesn’t say anything. What a strange man, Bruce thinks.
They sit there for a while without saying anything. The sky is starting to get lighter and Bruce can hear noises coming from the Iceberg Lounge. It’s time to go. He stands up and gives Edward his mug back.
“Thanks for the coffee,” he says before walking to the other side of the roof and jumping down onto the building next to it. He isn’t sure if it’s just the wind in his ears or if he really heard Edward tells him “see you again”.
***
Bruce sleeps late the next morning with an ice pack on his face. Some drunk idiot had managed to whack him in the face with much more force than Bruce had expected and now the left side of his face is swollen. Well, the other guy is probably in worse shape.
When Bruce finally makes his way downstairs to eat, it's almost time for dinner. It doesn't matter to Bruce who drinks a cup of coffee that Alfred has made for him. That's when he remembers Edward.
Bruce takes his coffee down to the cave and turns on his computer to look up Edward's name. However, nothing matching Edward's description comes up. After going through different databases for a while, Bruce comes to the disappointing conclusion that Edward gave him a fake name. It's weird, after all, Edward was the person who wanted to see Bruce (to see Batman, Bruce reminds himself. There's nothing Edward wants from Bruce Wayne) so desperately. Why would he go through all the work just to give out the wrong name?
Bruce tries to come up with answers with his head pounding from fighting and lack of sleep when Alfred comes down with a tray full of food.
"Good morning," he greets Bruce and looks at the bruise on his face with a frown.
"You should see the other guy," Bruce mutters and takes a piece of a scrambled egg from a plate with his fingers, getting a displeased sigh from Alfred. Alfred puts the tray down and looks at what Bruce is trying to look up on his computer.
"I met a man last night," Bruce begins, tearing a piece of toast apart. Alfred gives him a surprised glance. "-- and he gave me a fake name."
"Edward Nygma," Alfred reads the name out loud from the search bar and chuckles. "He's funny, I have to admit."
"What?" Bruce asks, looking at the name and trying to get what's so funny about it.
"Well, it's a fake name, as you said. Edward Nygma, E. Nygma –" Alfred explains and Bruce finally gets it.
"Enigma, right." How did he not get it earlier? "Oh, he's hilarious."
"How did you meet this man?" Alfred asks.
"He followed me around and offered me coffee," Bruce tells, still feeling stupid from his slow brainwork. Alfred seems to be waiting for him to continue but Bruce doesn't have anything more to tell.
"And are you… going to be seeing him again?" Alfred asks. Bruce thinks of the conversation with Edward, the strange calmness he felt when sitting on the rooftop with him, and the questions the man wakes in him. And now the fake name. It's almost like a game, and Bruce is already in.
"It's possible," he says and thinks of Edward's words. See you soon.