Chapter Text
Despite popular belief, Bruce didn't really enjoy attending obnoxiously high class parties. He'd much rather spend his night in the Batcave or scouting the city or even just at home with his family. But he had to attend at least a few to keep up his stupid rich kid persona. He was forced to interact with every other rich snob that wanted to get on Bruce Wayne's good side, having to pretend he actually wanted to listen to any of them or that he found anything they said worthwhile. He recognized most of them as corrupt or at the very least greedy assholes. He'd have left, had it not been a party his own company was throwing.
It was no secret Bruce Wayne was dedicated to criminal reform, funding organizations all over the country to help ex-convicts integrate into society and get the help they need to not reoffend. In fact, Wayne Enterprise had started up its own program, allowing Blackgate prisoners and Arkham inmates to volunteer at various community service locations and even land jobs and housing after their release. So the city had come together to celebrate the high success rate of the program including its newest high profile member-
“The Riddler…” Bruce heard Commissioner Gordon huff from beside him, “Never thought I’d see the day where he’d be walking free and I wasn’t supposed to be cuffing him.” Gordon was pretty much the only person in the entire party Bruce had felt was worthwhile to talk to, even if the old cop didn’t know they were closer than he’d ever imagined, they had a very friendly relationship regardless. They usually ended up in a corner away from everyone and just chatted, not really wanting to partake in the rest of the celebrations. It seemed like Nygma was the same, as he was standing in the opposite corner of the room from them, talking only to a woman Bruce knew was just Harley in makeup but she hadn’t been a violent criminal in a while so he pretended not to notice.
It wasn’t particularly unusual for rogues to become a part of the Wayne Rehabilitation Program, Wesker and Harvey were current members, but it only rarely ever stuck, the most successful cases being Waylon and Harley. Despite the few successes, they were still very… roguish. Harley was never seen without her jester outfit or at least something clownish that was red and black, she couldn’t help but run rampant with her hyenas, go on insane dates with Ivy, and would still have minor run-ins with the law, though not even close to the same severity of her previous stunts. Waylon couldn’t exactly control how he looked, but he still chose to live in the sewers, rarely have any sort of outside interaction, would get defensive if people entered his territory, and still refuses to give GCPD any information when asked, only sharing what he knows to Batman.
But, this time, the newest rogue in the program had caught the attention of everyone. He was still very arrogant, dramatic, and annoying, no amount of therapy could ever fix that, but Edward had been very… normal. He had rarely lashed out, only occasionally arguing with other program members, volunteered every weekend at a library nearby Arkham and the only complaint against him was made when he couldn’t keep his voice down, and anything he managed to tinker with wasn’t made into a potentially dangerous weapon. He was still closed off from any therapist sent his way but at least he wasn’t subtly threatening them with riddles anymore. After a whole six months in the program with hardly any issues, he was deemed fit to re-enter society under the condition that he attended weekly therapy and kept a parole officer up to date on his daily life. He was loudly unhappy about the therapy but hardly complained about anything else. It was strange to think one of Gotham’s most infamous rogues might actually… fit in. It sounded too good to be true.
“It was certainly a surprise when Mr. Nygma agreed to take part in the program at Arkham,” Bruce finally spoke as he tore his eyes away from Edward and back to Gordon, “But I’m happy to see the progress he’s made. If this keeps up, maybe more of Gotham’s ‘super criminals’ will start joining too.”
“Your program would be a damn miracle worker if that’s the case,” Gordon let out a tired laugh, “Still, it’s strange isn’t it? Riddler was always so dedicated to his… so-called ‘game’ with Batman. The hell made him want to turn over a new leaf so suddenly?” That was definitely the million dollar question on everyone’s mind. Edward had refused to comment on it, only shrugging and saying ‘why not?’ to any interviewer that managed to get a proper discussion in with him.
It really didn’t sit right with Bruce. Edward had always argued over and over again that he’d never stop fighting Batman until he finally came out on top. He’d stuck by that for over a decade at this point, proving time and time again he wasn’t willing to stop. Until one day, out of nowhere, after beating Nygma at another one of his games, the rogue was unnaturally quiet and compliant, joining the program days after being rehospitalized into Arkham. He wasn’t sure if it was some sort of plot or if something had happened to Edward, but Bruce fully intended to find out what exactly was going on.
“Hard to say, but why look a gift horse in the mouth, right?” Gordon gave Bruce an unamused look, not wanting to comment on the various reasons why they should look into it. Bruce fully knew why, but wanted to keep up the obliviously optimistic persona. “Some people’s journeys are… personal. Sometimes it’s something we’re not proud of. Maybe, one day, he’ll come around to sharing it. In the meantime, let’s do our best to help those who are willing to accept it, including Mr. Nygma.”
“ Very eloquently put, Mr. Wayne,” The two men turned to see Edward approach, of course wearing his signature green suit. It was a very normal suit all things considered, probably wouldn’t be a good idea to wear his usual clothes anyway, but he couldn’t resist at least making sure it was a forest green. The arrogance that radiated off of him, all the way down to his cocky grin made Bruce have to resist a scowl from forming on his face. Masterfully, he kept a polite smile while Gordon next to him failed and couldn’t hide his suspicion. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe perhaps you had someone on your PR team write that on a notecard for you.”
The vigilante somehow managed to stop himself from shooting out a retort and kept that typical Wayne smile on his face. “I don’t have a PR team writing out everything I say, Mr. Nygma. It would be pretty useful, though. I’m surprised they even trust me enough to let me speak on air unsupervised.” They don’t, but Edward didn’t need to know that. “It’s a pleasure to finally properly meet you.” Bruce offered out his hand, to which he put down after a few seconds of Edward just staring at it, “Was there something you needed? I’m guessing it’s not just for a friendly chat? I don’t take you for the social type.”
“Oh, definitely not. If it were up to me, I’d be hunched over my desk actually working on something productive instead of being anywhere near this. But Gotham’s golden boy needed to show off how he cured The Riddler, right?” The smile he gave Bruce was bitter enough that it even unnerved Bruce in a way. He had seen Edward upset before, of course, but this wasn’t a typical emotional outburst, this felt just purely angry.
He hadn’t even spoken to Edward as Bruce Wayne before, so he wasn’t particularly expecting an aggressive reaction. “Wh- I apologize if that’s what you believe this to be about, but I guarantee you I’m not showing you off-”
“Please,” Edward rolled his eyes, “Most of Gotham’s elites are here and I had to dodge every news outlet that’s ever existed just to walk into the building. My face was already on the news right next to yours the second I stepped foot in here. Riddle me this, Mr. Wayne, I am haunted by the echoes of love, punished by my nemesis, and left flowers upon the grave of my murderer. What am I?”
“Nygma, enough,” Gordon interrupted before Edward could continue berating Bruce, “Leave Wayne alone and just get to the point of why you came to see him.”
“I didn’t come here to speak with Wayne , James, I was here to talk to you about important matters.” He paused, but didn’t give either man time to react before he continued, “I want to work at the GCPD again. I’m aware my criminal record makes it impossible for me to acquire my old job in the Cyber Crime Division, but I know I reach the minimum requirements for a forensics lab assistant. You and I both know how incompetent those scientists tend to be anyway, you could use my help. Or do you want to rely on a man in an animal costume to do your work for you every time something comes up?”
Both Gordon and Bruce just stared at Edward, half expecting (hoping) he’d just admit this was some joke. But his face made it clear he was very serious. The Riddler, fresh out of Arkham, wanted a job in the GCPD. They had to work hard to give the arkham patiences leniency when it came to what they could or could not do. But a rogue working at the GCPD? That was not something they could just let happen, even if they wanted to. Which neither did.
“You want- You can’t be serious, Nygma!” Poor Gordon looked like he was trying very hard to keep himself together, “What makes you think we could make that happen? Hell, what makes you think I’d let that happen? Last time you worked in the GCPD you used our system to steal people’s information and blackmail them! Why would I let you anywhere near any case evidence?”
“In case you’ve forgotten, the Wayne Rehabilitation Program allows all members to be eligible for any position they have the proper requirements for and, last I’ve checked, having a criminal record does not immediately disallow me from working in a forensics position according to the laws put in place for the city of Gotham. Sorry to say, but the department has low enough standards that I have every right to be considered just like any other applicant.” Edward had replied so quickly and so robotically that Bruce couldn’t help but wonder if he had prepared for this before he made his way over.
“Which means we have every right to toss your application like any other applicant.” Gordon crossed his arms, managing to at least keep himself from lashing out but remaining stern, “I’m sorry, Nygma, but even if you’ve completed the program, your history isn’t just going to be forgotten. I can’t just trust you because you have a piece of paper saying you’ve been good for a while. Do you know how many of my men I had to bury because of you? How many innocent people I’ve seen dead by your hands? I suggest keeping your job at the library, because you’re not finding one in the department as long as I have anything to say about it.”
Bruce silently watched for a second as the two just glared at each other, ignoring how the interaction had drawn too much unwanted attention to them. Last thing he needed was for a shouting match to happen, so Bruce tried his best to mediate, “Look, Mr. Nygma, I’m sorry you can’t get the position you want, but surely we can help you narrow down to something else-”
“Don’t bother, Wayne,” Edward huffed, straightening his jacket out in an attempt to force himself to focus his attention elsewhere, “I’ll decide on my own who’s worthy of my skills, someone who can appreciate them. I don’t need your
pity
.” With that, the (former) rogue stormed off, leaving behind a confused crowd of onlookers.
“You wouldn’t believe the nerve of that guy,” The Commissioner grumbled, “Guess quitting crime doesn’t stop him from being difficult. Guess your program did something though, he’d have probably thrown a tantrum if this was any other time.”
Oh, Bruce knew alright. Which only made him even more curious about what changed in Edward Nygma and if it was something he should worry about.
It wasn’t long before Edward had found his way outside the party on an empty balcony, just out of sight from any paparazzi, unless they snuck in and were hiding in the bushes. Whatever, as long as he didn’t have to deal with people for now. Harley had been a joy to talk to when she had snuck her way in, but the energetic girl in her couldn’t stay quiet for long and she soon got lost in the crowd of partygoers trying to make friends. He didn’t hold it against her, he enjoyed his alone time anyway. Especially now.
Edward had to give himself credit for not somehow making the situation worse. Maybe snapping at Wayne who was practically his sponsor wasn’t the best idea and perhaps insulting him in the form of a riddle went directly against what his therapist had talked about and yes arguing with Gordon in public wasn’t his best move. But he chose to chalk it up as being no fault of his own. He didn’t want to even come to this stupid party anyway, with everyone staring at him like he was a dog that performed a neat trick for them or as if he’s going to bite them at any moment. Harley, bless her heart, was the one who convinced him to accept since it was a good opportunity to show people he was a new man. The New and Improved Edward Nygma.
Improved. Sure. Quieter, maybe, but it was yet to be seen if this was actually an improvement. While it was true that the past six months had actually been the most at peace he’d been in for who knows how long, it was hard to say things were better. He could hardly walk down the street without being gawked at, he had to embarrassingly settle in one of the Wayne Rehab apartment complexes just to rub more salt into that wound, and he was increasingly growing impatient for… something. He wasn’t too sure what. Maybe something exciting. But excitement wouldn’t be a part of his life anymore. It wasn’t supposed to be. He was supposed to be just someone average. Someone who fits into a crowd. He’s supposed to be a nobody again, with the downside of his face and crimes being known by every person in Gotham.
Edward had been too lost in thought to notice he was no longer alone on the balcony. He jumped at the sound of someone awkwardly clearing their throat, spinning around to be face to face with Bruce Wayne. Again. He had seen his face enough tonight, but he managed to keep that to himself, which he truly believed he deserved an award for.
“Nygma, I didn’t mean to scare-”
“I was not
scared
, Wayne. You merely startled me, there’s a difference.” He crossed his arms, trying to look more frustrated in hopes that the billionaire would take a hint and leave.
Unfortunately for him, Bruce didn’t, “Well, sorry either way. Look, I just wanted-”
“If you intend to give an apology, I don’t want to hear it.” Edward was honestly shocked that Wayne didn’t actually look at all annoyed, genuinely looking apologetic. It was weird. He wasn’t sure he liked it. “If that’s all, then you can leave me be. You haven’t yet run off with a woman to sleep with. Don’t let me stop you.” He turned back to look out at the night sky, noting how he didn’t hear Wayne leave yet. Great.
“... A narcissist. That’s the answer to your riddle, right? Everything you said connects to the Greek myth of Narcissus. The nymph Echo fell in love with him but he broke her heart and she died as a result, the Goddess of revenge Nemesis punished him for his arrogance by tricking him to falling in love with his own reflections and, in some versions of the myth, he kills himself in despair because the only person he saw as worthy of himself was unobtainable and the flowers of Narcissus grew on the ground where he died. You were calling me a narcissist.”
Edward didn’t respond, but made it clear Bruce was right when he turned his head slightly just to look at him from over his shoulder. It wasn’t a riddle he expected the billionaire to ever understand and he would’ve written it off as him using simple context clues from the conversation had he not given a full explanation.
When Bruce understood he wouldn’t get a response, he continued talking, “I’m not here to try to convince you I’m some angel that could do no wrong, but I, at the very least, want you to understand I really didn’t want you to feel like you were something to show off. These are meant to celebrate the passing members’ own personal achievement.”
“And what makes you think I’d want to mingle with socialites who have enough air in their skulls that we could use it to fuel spaceships?” Edward snapped, turning around to point an accusing finger at Wayne, “I’ve been surrounded by idiots for the past decade! You can’t even imagine being forced to sit in a cell next to Joker for days on end! To listen to moronic henchmen give their pointless commentary on anything their shriveled up brains could muster! And to top it all off, I’m incapable of obtaining any job of interest to me. I refuse to work as some mindless drone, to waste my intelligence on sorting books for the rest of my life! You get everything you could’ve ever wanted handed to you on a golden platter so apologies if I don’t want to listen to anything you have to say!”
Almost immediately, the silence that fell over them became uncomfortable. Edward really didn’t intend on going off like that, much less to Bruce Wayne of all people, and he soon realized how vulnerable he felt. He had nowhere to escape to unless he felt like jumping into the bushes below. So there he stood, staring at those piercing blue eyes studying him like he was an open book. Despite it all, there still seemed to be a touch of concern in the look Wayne had. He hated it. He hated how he looked, acting like this was actually of any concern to him. The idiot only wanted brownie points-
“I’m sorry, Edward.” He loathed how soft the billionaire’s voice had gotten, “I genuinely didn’t realize how uncomfortable this would’ve made you. Harley Quinn and Waylon Jones seemed appreciative of it. We didn’t take into account your preferences, and I really am sorry. I can end the party early if you’d like.”
The offer made Edward wish he had brought his cane to fiddle with, instead having to settle with the cufflinks he was wearing. It was rare for people to actually ask for his preferences on something. To genuinely want to hear his opinion and ask for it. He knew Harley insisted on how friendly Wayne was, but to see it in person was something else. He was just another spoiled rich kid, but for some reason Edward couldn’t sense a hint of a lie in anything he had said so far. It was miserable.
“... It hardly matters now, might as well just wait it out. Harley would kill me if I spoiled the fun she’s having in there anyway.” Edward grumbled, leaning back on the ledge of the balcony behind him. “... I apologize for my outburst. I recognize you are at least making an effort. I’m just not in the best mood.”
Bruce gave him a small smile and waved dismissively, “Don’t worry, I don’t take these things personally. If anything, I appreciate being told what I’m doing wrong. I want to make things easier and more comfortable for you and anyone else in the program. Chew me out all you’d like.”
“Careful, Mr. Wayne, I might take you up on that,” Edward’s joke fell a bit flat due to still being pretty agitated but at least Wayne gave a small chuckle at it.
“Just Bruce is fine. I’m again sorry about the situation with the GCPD. I’m still willing to-”
“I meant it when I said I don’t want your pity, Wa- Bruce,” This time, the interruption was less out of anger and more like he genuinely just didn’t want to talk about it, “I’d rather find work somewhere I’m wanted, not because the program got it for me. Now, if it’s alright with you, I’d much rather not think about any of that for the rest of the night. I just want this all to be over.”
Bruce frowned slightly, thinking over his words as he slowly nodded, “Right, sorry. Do you plan on just… standing out here alone?”
With a shrug Edward went back to facing away from Wayne and over at the sky. “I’m comfortable on my lonesome, always have been. No one in there’s worth talking to anyway.”
“How about anyone out here?” Bruce asked, making his way over next to him.
“... I suppose I would like to ask how on Earth someone like you managed to piece together my riddle.” Maybe Bruce Wayne wasn’t that bad after all.