Chapter Text
"You told me once that you admire my intellect."
Edward chuckled. "I did, didn't I?"
He leaned forward, gripping the tip of his cane tighter. Every failed mission, every trip to Arkham, every snide remark from the media and his peers - no matter how heavily they might bear down on him at times, the sight of Batman chained, bleeding, and heaving for breath always removed their weight from Edward's shoulders. These were the moments he lived for. Everything else was just filler, a long stream of commercials in between the few bright sparks of story that made up his existence.
Oh, what he would give to have this moment last forever!
"Consider yourself lucky, Batman. Very few can say the same as you."
"Nygma, why-"
His next few words were lost in a stream of wet coughs. The sound echoed off the cement walls. For a moment, all Edward could do was close his eyes and let the symphony pass between his ears.
"That's the million dollar question, isn't it?"
For all the curiosity he conjured, Edward always seemed to inspire the same basic question: Why?
Why did he fight Batman? Why didn't he do something useful with his life? Why did he dress like a leprechaun?
Yet for all the questions he'd engendered, no one, least of all the caped crusader, had ever asked him the most obvious: "Why are you so much better than me?"
Was it because they knew that they couldn't cope with its answer? Or were they truly such neanderthals that they couldn't even imagine making such an inquiry?
Edward smirked. Whether or not Batman finally gave word to it, he must have realized the question. Why, then, should Edward deprive him any further of its answer?