Chapter Text
Nigel stared at the grey ceiling of his cell, arms trapped against his body by the straitjacket. Dried tears kept his face feeling warm. Or at least the half not wrapped in bandages. His skin still burned with pain, not that the staff here cared. He blinked slowly, trying to focus on counting the cracks in the stone for the hundredth time, and not the memory playing over and over in his head.
“Shh… it’s going to be okay, I promise.”Nigel muttered, rocking back and forth. He kept his hand under Poppy’s head, trying to keep the crying girl calm. Regardless, she kept sobbing, tears cutting through the ash and blood on her face. God the blood. Nigel tried to ignore how much of it was seeping across the floor, staining her flowery dress. His own body screamed with pain, but he couldn’t care less. Alarms blared through the wreckage of the lab, fire crackling around them. “Daddy’s gonna get you home sweetie.” Promising that, he pulled her closer to his chest and tried to stand up. Futile. His leg gave out with a cry of pain and he curled over, still trying to protect her. As Nigel collected himself, sucking in deep breathes as to not break down himself, the sudden quiet became apparent. Poppy had stopped crying. He looked down, noticing she’d gone still. “Poppy?” Swallowing hard, he felt for her pulse. Time felt like it slowed as his fingers pressed against her wrist harder, searching for anything, any hint of life. Silence filled the room as he cradled her agaisnt his chest.
Until an anguished scream tore from Nigel’s throat, curling up and burying his face in her blond hair, broken sobs and apologies tumbling out of his mouth. By now, the fire department and police were on the way. When they arrived they’d find a ruined lab, a grieving father still trying to protect his daughter despite being unconcious.
A quiet sob escaped him as he tightened his fingers on the fabric restricting him, rolling onto his side and pulling his knees up. He was supposed to protect her and he failed. He didn’t even know how long it had been. When he’d woken up, strapped to a hospital bed looking like a mummy from the sheer amount of bandages, Nigel was honestly surprised he was alive. A doctor explained to him that he had lost his eye in the explosion, along with the hearing in his right ear. What he’d gained was a shit ton of scarring. Only a few days later was he dragged off to Arkham Asylum. Accused of causing the explosion and therefore murder. Murder. Of his own daughter. His beloved Poppy. Weeks had passed now. Maybe months? Nigel had begged to be able to go to the funeral, but of course what court would let that happen.
Nigel would avenge her, he would. Someone at his workplace had something to do with it, he was sure. He wasn’t exactly the most liked man at work, most of them thought he was crazy. Partly from his obsession with acid and how different types corrode metal (and people), partly because of the rumours his ex-wife spread about him. He audibly groaned at the thought of her.
The sound of his cell door being unlocked pulled him from his thoughts. With a struggle he sat up, glaring at the guard who was impatiently telling him to get on with it. Nigel bit the inside of his cheek as he stood, heavily leaning on his left. What the doctor hadn’t told him was how badly his right leg was damaged, and was now weak and barely able to support his weight. Of course, he didn’t get anything to help with this. No painkillers, no crutch, no nothing. Limping the best he could, the guard stopped him.
“You’re allowed out of that today, and to be with the other inmates.” The guard gestured to the straitjacket. Nigel sighed in relief and turned around as it was taken off, rubbing his arms and stretching. He mumbled a thanks and followed him to the mess hall. The other inmates huh. Like any other Gothamite, he was well aware of the criminals and villains that plagued Gotham. His lab had been robbed twice in the last ten years, and he was held at gunpoint by the Penguin once. Well, umbrellapoint he supposed.
Once he entered the hall, somewhat standing behind the guard to stay out of view, his gaze roamed across the room. Clearly Batman had gone on a mass lockup, because quite a number of Gotham’s rogues sat in the hall, loudly talking and arguing in some cases. Nigel quietly grabbed a tray and received food - if you could call it that. For a moment, he felt like a teenager again, stood in the corner of the yard deciding at which table to sit at that would gather the least attention and bullies. Spotting an empty area by the corner, he headed over and sat down.
Nothing ever goes well for Nigel though, as only after a few minutes of poking the grey mush with his fork, did a spoon come flying towards his head. A disgruntled yelp left him as the spoon smacked into the side of his head. He put a hand against his temple as he looked over to see who had thrown it, only to find himself staring at the ever grinning Joker. His stomach dropped, but he tried to keep his nerve. “What was that for?”
“You’re new round here aintcha! Whadidya do to get thrown in the loony bin?” The clown leaned over to him, despite being a table away. Much to Nigel’s chagrin, Joker’s loud questioning had gathered the attention of various other criminals who were also now looking his direction, a range of curiousity and disinterest on their faces.
“According to the court, killed someone. I didn’t though.” He turned back to his food, not really wanting to get involved with the crazy people that terrorised his home on a regular basis.
“Ooooo! A framing! Who did it? The Bat? Some big bad ceo? Ooh! What about a-“
“Can you shut up?” Nigel snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose, immediately taking his hand off with a wince. He was getting real sick of being injured. Lost in thought for a moment about his annoyance over his injuries, Nigel was none the wiser to the complete bewildered and offended look the clown was giving him. Never had he been told to shut up by some low level civilian.
Nigel didn’t spare another glance at the group of criminals, his leg bouncing with nerves. He kind of hoped they’d forgotten him as he went back to poking at his food. Slowly his thoughts started to turn into replaying that godawful memory again.
The weight of her stiff body in his arms, her big brown eyes staring up at him, emptier than they ever should of been-
Quite literally snapped from his thoughts as his head jerked to the side, pain blooming across his cheek. Nigel turned on his attacker, mentally trying to figure out why he was just punched. Joker was now stood above him, giving him a scandalised look. Though he didn’t look as angry now, just surprised more than anything. And confused.
“What was *that* for?!” Nigel repeated his earlier question.
“Well partly for ya telling me to shut up, but also A’ve been trying to get your attention for ten minutes.” Joker raised an eyebrow at him, usual grin absent as he sat down across from him. Most other rogues had already forgotten about him and gone back to conversation, though Riddler, Scarecrow and Two-Face seemed to still be watching them. He could take a wild guess as to Scarecrow and Riddler’s reasoning; the former probably curious about his phobias and how to exploit them, and the latter was most likely wondering about his smarts. Two-Face though, Nigel didn’t have a clue. He turned his attention back to Joker for now. “You have?”
“Yeah. You just zoned out and didn’t respond to anything,” Joker eyed the bandages, and dried tear track. “The fuck happened to ya?”
“Why would I tell the most deranged lunatic in the city anything like that?”
That earned a laugh from the clown, who leaned over and tilted his head, grin returning. “Ya’ve got a real attitude don’tcha! Ya look like death kid, I’m just curious how ya ended up so broken and thrown in here! Clearly it wasn’t Batsy cus he can get a bit violent sure but he ain’t ever burning us to shit like that!” Joker gestured at the bandages and burnt skin peaking out underneath.
Nigel grunted and turned away. “Why do you even care?”
“I don’t! But I’m bored and you seem vaguely entertaining so go on! Tell your probably dramatically sad story! How you were oh so tragically framed for murder! Was it a wife? Perhaps a man? A jealous ex situation? Hmmm?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Oh come ooooonnnn cyclops! Tell me! Ooo maybe you weren’t actually framed… Did you kill someone? Was it rage? Perhaps misinformed self defence? Or maybe you’re a bit crazy like the rest of us and got a bit trigger happy! Hah you certainly look crazy-“
“I was accused of killing my daughter.” Nigel snapped, clenching his fist and glaring at the table. After the clown didn’t respond, Nigel lowered his voice. “I didn’t mean to…”
Joker stared at him, smile dropping for a moment. He hadn’t expected Nigel to actually tell him, or that to be the answer. For once he was at a lack of words.
“There was an explosion at my lab. She shouldn’t have even been there.” He put his head in his hands. “Her baby sitter cancelled last minute and she begged to come along… I promised to take her for ice cream…” Nigel’s voice broke off with a sob, his fists clenching in his hair as he curled in on himself. “It was her birthday… she was only six.”
Now Joker felt even more awkward. He stared at Nigel’s shaking shoulders, before looking over at the rest of the rogues for help. Sympathy was usually never any of their things, given most of them had murdered plenty of people in their lives. But the grief of losing a child, and clearly seeing that Nigel blamed himself, tugged at some of their hearts a bit, the small humane part. Unfortunately, Harley Quinn wasn’t currently in Arkham, as this would have been a great moment for some of her therapy. The only other psychologist here was Scarecrow, and he was certainly not about to help.
A metallic sound rang in the awkward silence as Two-Face’s coin flipped, before he caught it and checked the result. He stood, walking over and sitting next to Nigel. After a moment of hesitation, he placed his hand on the scientists back, causing him to jump. Nigel looked up at Two-Face with a teary eye.
“Breathe.”
Nigel stared at him in surprise and confusion for a moment. Was this guy, a dangerous terrifying criminal who has murdered plenty, actually trying to comfort him? Deciding not to push his luck, Nigel did as instructed, slowly breathing in through his nose, holding for four, and exhaling slowly out his mouth. He copied Two-Face’s breathing, slowly calming down. “Thank you… Uh. Mr Two-Face…” Nigel looked away, mentally cursing himself.
“Call me Harvey right now.”
“Right… Thank you Harvey.”
Harvey gave him a small smile in return. It wasn’t something he would admit, and much to Harv’s dismay, Harvey felt sympathy for the man. After all, the obvious injuries and scarring the man was going to gain, reminded him of his own. Harvey remembered what it felt like after the acid, how alone they felt. It was different circumstances but the nice part of him didn’t want to let someone else feel that way. Especially if he could be useful. “You haven’t actually told us your name.”
“Oh. I suppose I haven’t. I’m Nigel. Dr Nigel Evergreen.”
“Well Nigel, nice to meet you. As much as it’s disgusting, you should eat something. You look like shit and could do with something in your system.”
Nigel looked down at the plate of mush and pulled a face, but begrudgingly ate some. Meanwhile, Two-Face sat up straight, keeping his hand on the other man’s back, and looked at the other rogues with a look that if any of them talked about his little moment of kindness they would lose the ability to talk. But now what?
As the rogues silently argued about what to do next, all heads snapped towards Nigel as his shaky voice spoke up again.
“I didn’t cause the explosion. My work was tampered with I’m sure… But the court didn’t even give me a chance.”
Well that certainly changed the angle a bit.
“What makes ya say that?” Joker asked.
“I have a gut feeling. I wasn’t exactly a very well liked man at work… They think I’m crazy. Lots of rumours about me. It’s not the first time my works been tampered with, a few weeks before the incident someone stole a months worth of research. But I’m sure the labels on my vials were switched. I noticed they looked off at the time but I didn’t realise what had happened until after the explosion. The problem is, I don’t know who. I have suspicions around my boss, he’s wanted to get rid of me for years but couldn’t afford to.” Nigel huffed and leant on his hand as he took a bite of food, guilt starting to build up again. “I should have known better than to take her to my lab. What sort of a father takes his kid to such a dangerous environment?!” A sharp laugh left him as he teared up again, resting his forehead against his fist. The rogues shared a look, starting to realise just how poorly Nigel was coping.
“Do ya want to get revenge?”
“What?”
“Do ya want to get revenge? For ya daughter?”
Nigel hesitated for a long moment. He wanted someone to suffer for talking his daughter away. He wanted them to feel the same pain he felt. After a breath, he nodded slightly, keeping his eyes on the table. “I do. I want them to pay. I don’t know how though.”
“Well we can help with that. Listen cyclops, it ain’t often any of us care for some tragic backstory guy, because in this city it’s pretty damn common. But you’re a scientist which means you’re smart. Useful too! Plus I like going for rich bastards, they deserve nothing.”
Slowly, Nigel nodded again. But was trusting them a good idea? After all he was surrounded by psychopaths and criminals. He wouldn’t be surprised if they dropped him immediately. Then again, this was the only option he had. He’d rather risk it than rot away in Arkham for the rest of his life. Nigel nodded once more, firmer this time.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t bother cyclops!” Joker grinned as the guard shouted that dinner was over. As the yard of criminals returned towards their cells, the small group of rogues with Nigel was slower to get up. Near immediately as he stood up, Nigel practically collapsed, Harvey sticking a hand out and catching him.
“You good?” Harv questioned as he helped Nigel stand upright, hovering his hands near his shoulders in case he fell again.
“My leg got pretty badly injured in the blast. Keeps giving out on me but the guards won’t give me anything for it. It’s fine though, I’ll manage.”
Harv gave the scientist a skeptical look but didn’t push further, just keeping close enough to him to prevent Nigel falling flat on his face as they headed to their cells. They made it fairly successfully, and Nigel collapsed onto his bed as the door locked behind him. If you could call it a bed. The debatable bed wasn’t the thing on his mind right now though, rather that he had somehow found himself in a position of befriending notorious criminals to be assisted in getting revenge. Definitely not where he excepted his life to lead. Eventually, after an hour or so of mulling over his life choices, Nigel managed to fall asleep. He supposed he’d find out Joker’s plan soon, if he had any at all. Frankly he wouldn’t be surprised if the clown was just going to wing it without a plan.
Nigel would be right to expect that.