Archive of Our Own

Halloween, a night dedicated to fear: horror movies, skeletons, blood, monsters, spiders, and tricks. It was a night dominated by criminals, especially in a city like Gotham, which dealt with major crimes on a weekly basis. However, that also meant that Halloween was a night full of police officers, plus a Bat-Man fighting on the streets. Even worse, this year, Halloween fell on a Saturday, enabling everyone to act even crazier. Considering all of these factors, Jonathan decided he would spend the night in his lab this year. As much as he would have enjoyed watching people scream, it really wasn’t worth the risk. He had his Fear Toxin; he could fill people with fear any day. 

His Halloween was going to be enjoyable: two of his acquaintances (friends?) were visiting, and they were going to stay up all night. This sounded boring and somewhat miserable to him, but the other two had promised that he would have fun, especially with the stuff they were bringing, whatever that meant.

Around 6:00, Jonathan heard a knock at the door. He trudged up the stairs, trying not to aggravate his headache, to let in his first guest: Edward Nygma, also known as the Riddler. They had collaborated in the past, and now the man showed up every time he was injured or looking for a chemical or just bored. 

“Jonnie! Happy Halloween!” He held up a plastic bag of DVDs, books, and jigsaw puzzles. Of course he brought puzzles. “Do you like my costume?” The costume was just a fully black outfit with a cat ear headband and some makeup.

“What is it?” Jonathan stepped aside to allow the man in.

“I’m Schrodinger’s cat! See, one of my eyes is crossed out like I’m dead!” 

“Very nice, Edward.” 

“Eddie,” he corrected. “We’re pals, right? And what are you supposed to be?”

“Aren’t you a puzzle guy? You should be able to figure it out.” In truth, Jonathan didn’t have a costume. He could put on his Scarecrow mask if they insisted, but he was happy with his white button down shirt, brown argyle sweater vest, green bow tie, and brown slacks. It was nice to have a semblance of a normal life. He shuffled through the lab, brown slippers dragging on the floor, until he was back in his “living room,” an area with a couch, a TV, and a lamp.

“Hmm… Would you happen to be Blathers from Animal Crossing?”

“Sure.” Jonathan had no idea what those words meant, and he didn’t have a phone to search it up on. He would have to sit at his computer, in the open, where it was obvious. 

“That’s so cool, Jonnie! I had no idea that you liked Animal Crossing. Which game did you play?” Well, it was a good try.

“I lied. I have no idea who or what that is. I’m just dressed normally.”

“You’re no fun. Blathers is an owl that runs the island museum, who likes to talk a lot and hates bugs. He was one of my favorites when I played the game. You know, Animal Crossing for the GameCube was my first videogame ever. I’d always dreamed of videogames while I was in the orphanage, but it was obviously impossible. We didn’t even have air conditioning. As soon as I had a few extra dollars from my first real job, I made up for it.” Only a few minutes in, Jonathan realized that this evening might have been a mistake.

“You and the owl seem to have a lot in common.”

“Blathers? Maybe.” Edward plopped down on the floor to sort through his bag. “I brought ‘Saw,’ ‘American Psycho,’ ‘Final Destination,’ and ‘The Silence of the Lambs.’ I also have some 500-piece puzzles and a sudoku book.” He arranged them in perfect piles, as he was wont to do. Although his apartment was horrifically cluttered, he insisted that he always had some kind of order. He looked down at his watch. “Where’s June? It’s 6:01.” 

“She’ll be here. She has to take the bus from Metropolis. Chances are, it was delayed.” Junette Clover, who went by June, was Jonathan’s summer apprentice, and she spent the rest of the year working towards her doctorate in pharmaceutical sciences at Metropolis University. She had just started her fifth and final year in the program. Jonathan hadn’t expected to see her again, at least not so soon.

“Hmm. She should have left earlier, then. What if something happened?”

“If something was wrong, she would have called on the landline.”

“What if they finally disconnected it?”

“Then you’ll have to learn patience.” Jonathan walked back to his lab to finish up his notes. He was already cutting his work short for their “hangout,” so he wanted to get as much done as possible before both guests had arrived.

“Whatcha doing?” Edward asked, suddenly behind him. 

“Penguin hired me to test some drugs to figure out if they’re laced. He said customers have been seen talking to a dealer outside and then passing out in the club, which is becoming a problem.”

“Well… are they laced?”

“So far, I’ve found PCP, ketamine, GHB, and fentanyl across the samples he gave me. It’s ridiculous. Multiple depressants in one package? Of course people are passing out.”

“What were the samples of?”

“I’m looking at heroin, meth, and cocaine. For heroin, it makes sense, but meth and cocaine stand out to me.”

“What’s so special about meth and coke?”

“They’re stimulants. They stimulate the nervous system. They’re laced with depressants, which slow down the nervous system. To the user, they feel like they cancel out, but they cause dangerous, unpredictable health issues, like death. I have some theories; I just have to type them up.”

“What’re your theories? You know I love a good mystery.”

“Obviously, my first theory was stupidity, but I don’t think this is stupidity alone. I believe it’s an intentional attack intended to kill drug users without them realizing it. My alternative theory is that they were trying to enhance the effects of their depressants, but then tried to use the same additives to enhance their stimulants with dangerous consequences.”

“Yikes!”

“Yikes, indeed. Penguin should hire a real detective to find the source, or at least get the dealer off of his property. Maybe if people start passing out in public, the Bat-Man will handle it.” Jonathan finished typing, turned around, and realized that Edward had tidied up the entire lab – every container had its label facing out, the machines were neatly lined up, his notes were perfectly stacked, and the counters were sparkling clean.

“Wow, you work quickly. Thanks.” Edward didn’t respond, he just continued placing dirty glassware in the sink. “You don’t have to clean. I’ll get to it later.” 

“No, no, if you don’t clean as you go, it turns into a huge, uncontrollable mess! I don’t want that for you.” As a psychiatrist, Jonathan could easily recognize the symptoms of OCD in the room, but it was nice to have someone doing his dishes, so he didn’t bother his guest. Instead, he returned to his computer to clean up his letter for Penguin. Maybe he could finish up and deliver it tomorrow. A few minutes later, there was a crisp knock at the door.

“See, there she is.” Jonathan left to open the door, where a blonde woman with lots of bags was waiting.

“Crane!” She wrapped him in a hug, the tote bags smacking against him as she did so. 

“June, it’s good to see you. Come in.” She bounded down the stairs, stepping on five of them at most.

“Eddie!”

“Junie!” Edward dried his hands and accepted her hug. “I like your costume.” She shed her hoodie, revealing an orange shirt with a white rectangle around the middle that matched her white beanie.

“I’m a bottle of prescription opioids! Sorry to disappoint you, Eddie, but I do this every year. I just swap out the drug name with whatever I’m currently studying. Last year I was an SSRI. Are you Schrodinger’s cat?” 

“Yes, I am!” They moved to the living room. “Guess what Jonnie’s supposed to be.” June stared into Jonathan’s eyes, almost into his soul.

“He’s nothing. He’s himself. Crane would never participate in such a silly holiday. We didn’t bother him enough about having a costume.”

“Actually, I’m Blathers the owl.”

“Bullshit, I know you’ve never touched a controller in your life. Was that your guess, Eddie?” He nodded slowly. “The student becomes the master.”

“What’s in the bags?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject to avoid admitting defeat.

“Oh, everything!” June’s parents were multimillionaires who gave her an allowance of $3,000 per month. Usually, she sent a few hundred dollars over for Jonathan to use as he needed, since she lived alone and didn’t need all $3,000 for rent and food. At this point, she was one of his main sources of funding, and while he found the extra-unpaid internship unfair, he couldn’t afford to complain. “I have our Chinese takeout here, snacks and spa stuff here, entertainment here, and general groceries for Crane here.”

“When are you going to use his first name like a normal person?” Edward asked.

“When I graduate, obviously.” Jonathan shrugged. It meant almost nothing to him. “Can we do something fun? And please don’t say ‘puzzle’ yet.”

“Let’s put a movie on. What’re you in the mood for?” Edward spread out his neat pile, and June added a few DVDs of her own. They turned to Jonathan. He thought for a moment.

“‘Final Destination.’” Edward jumped to put his DVD in the player while June put the cases back into their neat stacks. 

“We don’t have to do this now,” June started, “but I really want to do mini makeovers at some point.” 

“Don’t worry, we will! I’m very good at braiding hair,” Edward promised. “Did you bring nail polish?”

“Of course! I have multiple shades of green for you.” The old TV screen flickered a bit as the movie started. Thankfully, that added to the overall spookiness of the evening, so Jonathan didn’t have to think about how he stole this TV several years ago and it was already old then, too. Edward slouched back against the couch while June passed out their dinners.

“Are you eating on the floor?” Jonathan asked. The other two shrugged.

“Do you even have a table to eat at?” June reminded him. They usually ate in front of the computer or on the lab counters.

“I’m used to eating on the floor.” Classic Edward.

“I’m eating on the couch.” June passed him his food, along with a pile of tiny napkins, a fork, and a pair of chopsticks. He really couldn’t complain; it wasn’t often that he got a hot meal delivered to him. It wasn’t often that he had a real meal at all – he usually lived off of microwave meals, canned produce, and sandwiches. Tonight’s fried rice and vegetable eggroll were a Michelin star meal in comparison. On the floor, June had surrounded herself with small containers of dumplings, some steamed and some fried, while Edward had a box of lo mein and some kind of chicken. They kept leaning over to steal from each other, which led to a sword fight of chopsticks, which eventually led to a truce and a trade. It seemed like they weren’t paying any attention to the movie, even as the plane broke apart and crashed on screen. Eventually, June looked up at him.

“Crane, have you ever had a sleepover before?”

“Nope.”

“Aww, that’s so sad.”

“Explains a lot,” Edward agreed. “You need to loosen up.”

“Does he know how?” She grimaced a little.

“Good point. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” June dragged over one of her bags.

“I think I am… okay, 1, 2, 3-”

“Makeover!” they shouted together. Jonathan wondered why they had the TV on if the people in front of him were going to reenact a teen girl movie anyway. June dumped out her supplies, which included hair accessories, nail polish, face masks, and makeup. For a moment, Jonathan closed his eyes and imagined what he could have been doing – working on his report for Penguin, spraying people with Fear Toxin, sleeping – but perhaps this could be tolerable, too. June practically jumped on the couch and hovered above his head. It was endearing that she still followed ethics and consent despite being an accomplice to so many crimes. He nodded, and she immediately got to work brushing his hair. 

“I don’t think there’s too much I can do up here, given the length, but I can definitely give you a little pizzazz.” He reached up to take off his glasses so she could brush his hair more easily, but he realized that there was nowhere to put them. Thankfully, Edward took them from his hands and placed them next to the TV. June brushed his hair straight back, but it quickly fell into its natural position. She adjusted, taking a few strands of hair to braid. 

Jonathan had read a lot about the brain. He could explain every cortex, describe how neurotransmitters interacted, and map it all out in detail. Therefore, he was familiar with the autonomous sensory meridian response, usually known as ASMR. He’d always seen it described as a tingling or mildly electric feeling, but it was so much nicer to actually experience it. It wasn’t just tingling. The sensation started at the back of his head, but then trickled down to his shoulders and spine. It was a wave of relief, relaxing muscles he forgot he had and easing the headache he’d had for weeks. He opened his eyes suddenly, not realizing that he had even closed them, to see June staring at his face.

“It’s nice to see you relax for once,” she commented, returning to her work. He closed his eyes again. Meanwhile, Edward was rattling through the makeup options on the floor. “Eddie, start with the face masks.” 

“There’re face masks? Fantastic!” A few moments later, a damp paper was being placed on his face. It took a few minutes because Edward couldn’t deal with it being even the tiniest bit misaligned, but once he was done moving it around, it was soothing. June paused her part of the makeover so he could put one on her, and then she placed one on him with an equal amount of care. 

“June, which nail polish should I use on him?” 

“Don’t paint my nails,” he protested. “I have to see Penguin tomorrow.” Edward sighed dramatically, but June caught him. She’d gotten good at it. 

“Hey, that’s a fair request. Penguin is intimidating enough. I really don’t miss my days as your errand girl. What do you think of the hair?” Jonathan’s eyes were still closed, but he did feel the couch shift as June stood up to get a better look.

“Simplistic, but cute. Very Jonnie. Here’s the best color combo for makeup.” There was some clinking as June sat back down on the couch and gently grabbed his face. At a certain point, there really were no boundaries in the lab. Jonathan and June had both patched Edward up so many times that they could rip him apart and he wouldn’t object, and when June accidentally inhaled Fear Toxin, she would hold onto her mentor for dear life for up to a few hours as she sobbed. Jonathan wasn’t very touchy, but every once in a while, he would give someone a pat on the shoulder, which he believed counted for something.

As with the hair styling, the makeup portion of the makeover was calming. He knew he would look foolish by the end, but the brush strokes were so soft. He could always just wash it off.

“Eddie, can you give me some extra light? Not too much.” There was a click, and then a bit of extra light invaded his closed eyes. “Thank you!” Dozens of brush strokes and some complaints about symmetry from Edward later, he was finally done. When his eyes fluttered open, he was greeted by huge smiles and conspiratorial glances. They stood back, allowing Jonathan to walk to his own bathroom. He flicked on the lights, looked in the mirror, and was pleasantly surprised. 

His hair, which was usually styled with a middle part and subtle curtain bangs, hadn’t been changed much. As Edward had noted, it was a simple change – his bangs had tiny braids in them and were clipped up on each side. June hadn’t changed anything else, which he was grateful for.

His makeup was shockingly good as well. Edward’s color choices matched his outfit perfectly. There was a bit of brown eyeliner on his top eyelids, with brown eyeshadow that blended into a dark green. June had used a lighter shade of brown eyeshadow to contour his cheeks and nose, and a shade of pink for blush. Edward handed him his glasses, and once they were on, he noticed that she had also used a bit of white eyeshadow as highlighter. Overall, he looked and felt pretty. For the first time in a few days, he smiled.

“Do you like it?” June asked, waiting with baited breath.

“Yes,” he admitted, “You did a fantastic job.” She squealed and gave Edward a high five. “Which one of you is next?”

“Eddie!” June declared, pushing her victim to the couch with Jonathan in tow. As they returned, on the TV, a house went up in flames as a teenage boy panicked over a bloody woman. June deliberately sat on the floor with her back to the screen. Jonathan saw his moment and put his hand on her shoulder as she fiddled with the silver ring on her thumb, a gift from her first and only girlfriend, who had died in a fire a few years earlier. The house exploded, causing her to flinch, but she finally registered his hand and pushed it off. “I shouldn’t be scared of silly stuff like this anymore. I’m too soft.”

“I’ve lost my sense of fear from several years of working with Fear Toxin; you’ve only worked with it for a few months out of a few years.” June shook her entire body, as if to literally shake off her negative emotions, losing her dried face mask. 

“What’s the plan for Eddie? Do you want to do nails, hair, or makeup?”

“He doesn’t really have enough hair to do anything with, and I’m not skilled in makeup. I’ll do the nail polish.” 

“Hmm, that leaves the more creative stuff to me!” She took off Edward’s glasses and dried-up face mask. For once, he was silent, not even muttering to himself. It was a true miracle. Jonathan turned to the nail polishes neatly lined up on the floor. As June had mentioned, there were several shades of green, along with a few other colors. He scrutinized them, picking the one he believed would match the man’s eye color best. 

“How about this?” He showed June the bottle.

“Yeah, that’s good!” She was brushing his hair even though it was no more than two inches long and couldn’t be tangled. Jonathan had his own job to do, though. He unscrewed his nail polish, dabbed the brush on the rim, and carefully dragged the brush down one of Edward’s thumb nails. He had to focus intently – he didn’t want the man to think that this was some kind of exposure exercise. Once he had his first coat of nail polish done, he sat back to watch June. She was attaching as many clips as possible to Edward’s short bangs. When she ran out of space, she moved on to his makeup, lining his eyes with precision and darkness. Jonathan could tell that it took skill to have such an even cat eye design. He returned to his own canvas for a second coat of nail polish, making sure to keep it completely even. With the second coat done, he closed up the nail polish and returned it to the lineup, even turning it to face the right way. June was almost done as well – she had given him a vibrant green cat eye on one side and a darker green cat eye with an “X” over it on the other side, mimicking his original Schrodinger’s cat idea. She’d also given him a lot of blush and drawn whiskers over it. Now that he was thinking about it, the clips were also split in half, with the bright ones on one side and the gloomier and spookier ones on the other. She finished it off with a triangle nose.

“Done!” June announced, handing back the glasses. While Jonathan could see well enough without his, Edward was blind as a bat. They returned to the bathroom for the reveal.

“Wow, fantastic job! It’s so neat! The nail polish is even, the makeup is so symmetrical…” Edward leaned in to get a closer look at the details in the mirror. “And I’m still a cat!” 

“I went with a decora vibe for your hair, since I couldn’t really do anything else.”

“It’s fun!” He turned around abruptly. “Your turn!” He pushed her back to the couch. June took out her ponytail. Her straight hair was a few inches below her shoulders, giving them plenty to work with. 

“You can do whatever as long as I don’t end up looking like the Joker.” She closed her eyes and sat up as straight as she could.

“I’ll do hair,” Edward announced, already pulling out a section to braid. This left Jonathan with nail polish or makeup. He already did nail polish, so he decided to try his luck with makeup. The only problem was that he had no idea what to use. She had blonde hair and brown eyes, and she was wearing an orange shirt with light blue jeans. He wasn’t going to use orange, so what could he use? Perhaps a natural look would suit her well. He found the brown eyeliner pencil and stood on the opposite side of where Edward was braiding. With his left hand holding her chin, he slowly drew on the edge of her eyelid. The first line was light, so he had to do it a second and third time to make it dark enough. He also tried his best to give it a little wing. It didn’t look bad for a first attempt. He repeated it on the other side, happy to be doing something new. He had never considered doing makeup before, but maybe this could be a useful skill. Maybe he could leave the lab to get supplies more often if he disguised himself better. Moving on, he picked up the eyeshadow palette and poked at the darkest shade of brown. Then, he tried to brush it onto her eyelid, but found that nothing stuck.

“You have to pat it,” June informed him, miming the correct way to pick up and lay down the powder. Her method worked far better. Once he had plenty of dark brown, he moved to a medium brown, and finally, to a light brown. If he took off his glasses, it looked perfect. For a moment, he tried to use the light brown eyeshadow as contour, but he quickly remembered that he had no idea what he was doing. Instead, he just finished up with some warm pink blush. When he looked up at Edward, he realized that he was deeply invested in whatever complex hairstyle he was trying to pull off. If Jonathan didn’t know better, he would have asked if it was supposed to be a puzzle. However, someone needed to paint her nails, so he returned to the lineup and chose the dark brown. It was far easier to paint nails when the person wouldn’t have an adverse reaction to an imperfect application. They finished their respective jobs at the same time. As June walked to the bathroom, Jonathan got a better look at her hair. Edward had created three braids on each side at the front and swapped sections between them, achieving a spider web look, and then connected them with a turtleshell claw clip.

“Holy shit, this is way better than I expected! I love the hair design; I’m never doing my hair again. This is permanent. Good job with the makeup, too, it’s pretty neat for someone with almost no experience.” They returned to the living room, sitting in their original spots. The TV had turned black; the movie had ended while they were busy with their makeovers. 

“Would anyone like to do a jigsaw puzzle?” Edward asked.

“Only if you put ‘Saw’ on while we do it,” June agreed. He sorted out the DVDs while she chose between the three puzzles he brought – a forest scene with a family of deer, a collection of buttons, and Commissioner Gordon. The latter was clearly a leftover from an unfinished crime, which left them with the former two more reasonable options. She ended up deciding on the button collection. Jonathan gave in and finally slid to the floor to join them, earning a dull pain in his head from the sudden movement. June found a container and dumped the pieces into it, then got to work sorting them by whether they were an edge or in the middle. He helped her and placed the corners far apart on the floor. For once, it was nice to have a smooth tile floor instead of carpet. Once the movie was on, Edward joined them, rocking on the floor with a huge grin. He didn’t touch a single piece.

“Are you going to help?”

“Jonnie, I could do this in ten minutes. I’m restraining myself.” 

“Then why are we doing it?” 

“It’s fun,” he insisted. “I’ll do a couple pieces.” Miraculously, he grabbed five seemingly random pieces from the “middle” pile and fit them together. He held back for a moment, but grabbed another and slid it into place. And another. And another. And then, there were a dozen pieces already put together before the rest had been completely sorted. “I can’t, I’m doing too much.” He pulled his sudoku book out of his bag to occupy himself. Meanwhile, June had finished sorting the pieces by edges, and was now sub-sorting the edges by color. The matching pieces fit together to make a perfect rectangle. 

“Eddie, is this right?” June asked. Jonathan couldn’t imagine how she could have done it wrong – everything was lined up. Edward put down his sudoku book.

“Looks good… oh, this piece goes here-” He took a piece from the remaining pile. “And this one is here… yes, yes… no, I’m doing it again. I’m going back to my math puzzles.” June picked up where he left off, but got easily distracted by the two men in the dirty bathroom on the TV. Jonathan wanted to get the puzzle done as soon as possible so he could move on with his life. He found all of the blue pieces and stuck them together. Then, he did the same with the purple, and with all the other colors. June chipped in, working off of the edges. They finished the puzzle just as the hospital orderly was beaten to death with the toilet tank lid on screen.

“Check it out, Eddie!”

“Wow! You finished it in just over an hour! Which one should we do next?”

“‘We?’” June challenged. “No, Crane and I did a puzzle; you watched. If anything, he should be deciding what we do next. I already had my turn, and this was yours.”

“For my turn, can I ask June to stop calling me ‘Crane?’ It’s ridiculously formal compared to ‘Eddie,’ ‘Jonnie,’ ‘Junie,’ and even ‘June.’”

“It’s a respect thing, though. I don’t have my doctorate yet. We’re not equals.” 

“Round up. You’re an entire 26 years old.” Her face reddened.

“So… what should I call you?” 

“Jonathan.”

“That’s a downgrade,” Edward chimed in. “‘Crane’ is one syllable. ‘Jonathan’ is three.”

“Jon?” June tried. He made an effort to smile when she said it. “It feels wrong, but if it makes you happy, I’ll work on it… But, seriously, Jon, what do you want to do? It’s your turn to pick.” He shrugged. 

“I don’t know.”

“There has to be something you enjoy doing.” She tilted her head to the side.

“I like my work. Can I finish my report for Penguin?”

“I mean…”

“It’s your turn, so sure,” Edward confirmed. He returned to the sink to finish washing the dishes and beakers. Jonathan sat down at his laptop, where his document was still open. All of the numbers and conclusions were there, but he needed to edit it and format everything properly. June dragged a chair next to him to read over his shoulder.

“Why are you being so wordy?” She went as far as to rest her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t know. It was my first draft. I just wrote what I thought. I get excited when I’m deep in my research.”

“‘The diverse series of tests conducted revealed that an alarming array of substances have been haphazardly blended into these already illicit drugs.’ What the fuck, man? Is this really your first draft?”

“I wrote most of it in one sitting yesterday.”

“This is why your doctor at Arkham thinks you have schizophrenia,” Edward commented, suddenly behind them. 

“Says the man who is compulsively washing my dishes after compulsively arranging everything in the room so its label faces out.”

“I’m not arguing with my diagnosis. I know I have OCD. I just choose not to participate in treatment because being clean is a good thing.”

“How about we all participate in treatment?” June suggested.

“I don’t hallucinate, I don’t have delusions, and therefore, I don’t have schizophrenia.” However, Edward corrected him.

“You don’t feel pleasure, you don’t feel fear, and you don’t move your face, so I think they’re pretty right about the schizophrenia. This is you at a good moment, too.” Jonathan stood up and ran his hand along the shelf, turning every container so none of them were aligned. He then sat back down. Edward grabbed his arm and although there was some resistance, he eventually moved it straight up. When he let go, the arm stayed up. “Waxy flexibility.” June pulled the arm back down.

“You know, Jon, you don’t use a single personal pronoun in this entire writeup. No ‘I did this’ or ‘I found that.’ Penguin’s a regular guy, you don’t need to make this so formal. He’s a mob boss, not a Nobel laureate.” He added her recommendations to the bottom of the document and then stood up with a wobble.

“Whoa, I need an aspirin. My head is killing me.” He excused himself to visit the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. His reflection was a surprise – he’d forgotten about the makeup. He still felt pretty. However, he was only there for a few pills. June never liked the way he self-medicated, so he kept his true dosage a secret from her. He shook out two long white pills, a circular reddish-brown pill, and a green pill for good measure, and he swallowed them all dry. Drinkable water was a commodity he rationed carefully – it wasn’t like he could go to the store at any time to buy more. When he returned to the lab, Edward was back at the sink, the containers were aligned again, and June was formatting his letter for Penguin. He sat down a bit shakily to simplify his work. The group existed in silence for a solid fifteen minutes, and then he was finished.

“Okay,” Jonathan announced. “I’m done. I can see him first thing tomorrow. Whose turn is it?” He turned around slowly in his chair, hoping it wouldn’t jostle him too much. His head spun anyway.

“It’s my turn,” June replied. “It’s past 10:00, and it’s a little chilly. Why don’t we have some tea?” Jonathan lightly grimaced.

“I don’t think I have enough potable water for tea right now…”

“I knew it!” she exclaimed. “You’re not drinking enough! You’re dehydrated! My activity is fixing you up. Get into the med room, now.” There was no use arguing. She was right. “Get on the cot.” Jonathan slowly lowered himself while June searched for her supplies. One of her skills before joining him was phlebotomy, the result of a boring summer during her bachelor’s program. After taking care of Edward so many times, she was skilled with IVs, too… Edward, who was now sitting in the corner shaking his head hypocritically. Jonathan stared at the ceiling, tuning out the world, but he was abruptly stopped when June tied a rubber band around his upper left arm. It hurt like a motherfucker.

“Make a fist, straighten your arm,” she ordered. She tapped around his inner elbow. “This is alcohol.” The cool liquid didn’t bother him at all, but it was nice to know what was going on. “Stay still, I’m doing the needle.” For some reason, it hurt less than he remembered. Maybe she used a smaller gauge this time. There was a click, some tape, and it was done. She removed the rubber band, which brought a wave of relief and blood to his lower arm. 

“Can I use my arm?” he asked. 

“Oh, yeah, the needle’s out.” She set up the machine with a single bag of saline and set it to one of the faster drip rates. Of course, she then moved to the other arm to bother him more. He closed his eyes, noting the room-temperature liquid entering his lower arm as she slipped a blood pressure cuff on his right arm and pressed the “start” button. Edward would have enjoyed this – both of his arms had been squeezed to an uncomfortable degree. How symmetrical.

“What is it?”

“86 over 65. Hypotension. Are you fucking serious?” She pinched the skin on the back of his hand. It took a moment to return to its original form. “Oh my god, I was going to write it off as you not sleeping enough as usual, but look at you!”

“Can you check my blood pressure?” Edward interrupted. Of course he was worried now. June handed over the mini blood pressure monitor.

“I’m going to get water. This is ridiculous.” She grabbed her hoodie from the living room and disappeared.

“Oww, this thing hurts!” Edward complained. When it released him, he announced his score. “128 over 89. Is that bad?”

“No, it’s fine. Well within normal range.” Jonathan sighed. It was a little high from the excitement of the evening, but he wasn’t going to worry the already anxious man with unnecessary details.

“Is there anything I can do? Usually this is the other way around, with me laying down and you running around.”

“No, I just need to wait.”

“Are you comfortable enough?”

“Yeah. I’m just lying here.”

“How do you feel?” He closed his eyes.

“Tired. My arm feels strange. My headache is going away, though.”

“No, no… How do you feel emotionally?”

“Nothing much.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. Not empty, just nothing. My mind is quiet, except for reminders that I have to test on someone soon.”

“You have to?”

“Yes, I do. If I don’t, I could lose control, or I’ll need to do something big to make up for it, which will only draw the Bat-Man’s attention. If I see Penguin tomorrow afternoon, I can find someone to test on in the evening and be good for a week.”

“Do you hear yourself? This is the schizophrenia. You can control yourself without scheduled fear experiments.”

“No, no, I must have ASPD or some kind of obsessive-compulsive thing going on. Obsessing over the toxin and my self-control, following compulsions to test on people. I last tested on someone eight days ago. I should have gone out last night, but it was raining pretty bad.”

“It would be pretty cool to have matching diagnoses…”

“Yeah, yours for order, mine for self-control.”

“How much do you think about your Fear Toxin and your self-control?”

“Several times per day. Less if I’ve just tested someone, more if I’m due to.”

“I think about order constantly. I’m always aware of the mess around me. I can see at least four things in this room I want to nudge into place, and it’s killing me not to. I don’t think we’re the same.”

“Don’t be jealous that mine is more manageable.” Their disagreement ended there. They sat in silence, and Jonathan could feel himself falling asleep. 

After an unknown amount of time that could have been anywhere between fifteen minutes and over an hour, there was a knock on the door. Edward jogged up the stairs to open the door, but didn’t sound as excited as usual. 

“June?”

“I’m sorry…” a feminine voice blubbered. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not here for you,” a gravely voice added. “Let me put these in your kitchen.”

“Oh, he doesn’t have a kitchen,” Edward laughed. “This is a hideout, not an Airbnb.” Light footsteps made their way closer, followed by much heavier ones. “Don’t you have better stuff to do tonight?”

“The people of Gotham know better than to be out late on this of all nights… most of them, at least. Besides, I am a protector. I can’t have people dying on my watch.” Was that who he thought it was… fuck. Jonathan opened his eyes and shifted to get a better view of the doorway. Sure enough, June and Edward came in, followed by the Bat-Man.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Crane, I’m such a bad student, I couldn’t even get water! He found me before I even got to a store!”

“I told you to use my first name-”

“I don’t deserve it!” She wiped her eyes with her middle fingers to avoid messing up her makeup… double fuck. He was wearing eyeshadow, contour, and blush in front of the Bat-Man. At least Edward looked more stupid. The Bat grabbed June by her upper arms and pushed her down into a rolling chair.

“I should be taking you two to Arkham,” he prefaced, “But Miss. Clover here refused to return unless I promised amnesty for all, and I couldn’t have her roaming the streets.” If he had a nickel for every time June saved him from Arkham with amnesty, he would have two nickels, and now, Edward would have one, too. “You now have six gallons of water. I heard you are dehydrated and hypotensive?” 

“Yes, Bat-Man, I tested the water down here, and it has high levels of lead and copper. I figured dehydration was preferable.”

“If you believe drying out is better than Arkham, sure. The IV is probably the only reason you’re conscious.”

“That’s June’s work. She insisted.” She deserved the credit.

“She cares about you, perhaps too much. This is not the night to be a woman walking alone in the city, although unfortunately, no night is.”

“She also did my makeup, can you tell?”

“It’s nice, very ‘girl dad,’ but it doesn’t hide malnourishment and dehydration, Crane.”

“I can’t exactly go to the grocery store, Bat-Man. Even if you sent me back to Arkham, I would probably starve there, too. I always knew it was terribly underfunded, but now I also know that the staff are trying to brainwash their patients.”

“Really?” the Bat-Man asked with a hint of amusement.

“Yes, they’re trying to eradicate any last bits of personality I have to my name.” The Bat turned to Edward for verification.

“Nah, that’s a delusion. The truth is that they just suck at their jobs.” 

“Both are true. They suck at their jobs, which is how I’m still holding on to my self.” June finally managed to catch her breath.

“Can you just focus on staying alive for now?” The room fell silent. “What would have happened if I didn’t come here tonight? What would have happened if Halloween was on a weekday?” She was no longer crying, but she rested her head in her hands on the small desk. The Bat gave her a pat on the shoulder.

“I’d be fine,” Jonathan insisted. “I would have eventually risked going out. I have to go out every so often to get food.” The Bat turned to him.

“Take care of yourself. I don’t want to come back here and find your body. Stay out of trouble.” He chose not to argue. Yes, he had to do his tests, but the Bat-Man wouldn’t like to hear that. “Also, please buy a Brita with an Elite filter so you can drink your tap water.” He didn’t have to worry - June was already pulling her phone out to order one.

“Noted. I’ll try to stay out of trouble.”

“Same goes for you, Nashton.”

“I’m actually going by Edward Nygma now. It suits me better.” The Bat shook his head, but in disbelief rather than disappointment.

“Of course you did. Very nice. Well, Mr. E. Nygma, please stay out of trouble. I will be returning to my patrol.” In the blink of an eye, the Bat-Man had melted back into the shadows. A tense stillness creeped through the room until Jonathan decided to break it.

“June, come over.” She slowly kicked over to him, not budging from her rolling chair and not making eye contact. “June, I’m a wanted man. I’ve sprayed hundreds, even thousands of people with Fear Toxin, and I’m always making something new, whether it’s a poison, drug, or whatever, illegally. I live in a shitty basement. All of this is to say that it would take a lot for you to disappoint me, a man without a stove, and it would take even more than that for me to hate you as a man who is known for poisoning a city and torturing the insane. As the Bat-Man said, I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s not what he said.” 

“Close enough. What time is it?” Edward held up his wrist.

“11:28.”

“Why am I so tired? I stay up later than this all the time.” June grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Jon the moron over here… You’re tired because you’re starved and dehydrated! And on top of that, we had a very full evening.” All they did was passively watch horror movies, give each other makeovers, put together an unreasonable puzzle, finish a drug report, and treat his dehydration. June took the opportunity to replace his saline drip with a full bag.

“It was nice to have you both over, but we didn’t do anything particularly exciting. What should we do now?” It was Edward’s turn. He thought for a moment.

“I want to eat. What snacks did you bring?” June retrieved her bag from the living room.

“A bit of everything - gummy worms, pretzels, Nacho Cheese Doritos, Cool Ranch Doritos, Double Stuf Oreos, soft chocolate chip cookies, and those little Ritz crackers with peanut butter in the middle.”

“Someone put a pretzel in my mouth, I’m too weak and dehydrated to sit up.”

“Bullshit,” Edward muttered as he opened the bag, but he still put one in his mouth. The three of them managed to finish the entire 9 ounce bag in ten minutes. Similarly, the entire package of Oreos was gone in fifteen minutes. Edward reached to open the red bag of chips, but June stopped him.

“If I eat any more, I’m going to explode. This is all you now.” Jonathan had to agree. He was probably well past what his body could handle after weeks of his poor eating habits. They watched in horror as Edward finished off the entire bag anyway.

“It’s past midnight,” Jonathan pointed out. “I think I should be asleep, but you two are welcome to do whatever it is you do at a sleepover.”

“Sometimes, sleepovers do include sleeping.” June tied her hair back, maintaining the braids. “I’m going to wash off my makeup. I’ll be back to get yours, Jon.” A minute later, he was being attacked with a damp paper towel. 

“Can I sleep in my bed?” he asked once she was finally done scrubbing. 

“If you can walk all the way there with your IV stand. It’s gotta stay in all night.”

“Seriously? I already have to use the bathroom.” 

“Oh, good! Let me know how it goes.” He grumbled a little, but trudged to the bathroom with the IV stand just as Edward finished washing his face. It was hard for him to stand up for more than a minute, so he ended up leaning on the wall. When he was washing his hands, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He really did look awful - sunken eyes with dark circles, eyelids barely open, no color in his cheeks, and an overall thinness that was unsettling on him, a usually skinny man. He dried his hands and trudged back.

“How was it?” June asked. He dropped onto the cot.

“Medium yellow, high volume.”

“Yay, I can hook you up with potassium! It’s going to burn a little, but it’s important.” She dug around in her supplies again.

“When you say burn, are we talking hot soup or active inferno?”

“Hot soup, but you can’t stop holding the bowl,” she confirmed. She hooked up the appropriate bag next to the saline and set it up to drip at a slower-than-usual rate. Jonathan just stared at Edward, who was writing numbers faster than he thought was possible. June left the room for a moment, which left the sudoku demon as his only form of entertainment. 

“Five,” Jonathan suggested.

“You can’t even see the grid.”

“Three.”

“No, no.” He walked over to show off his work. “I finished all the threes, along with the sevens and eights. It’s solved in my head. I just have to write everything down.”

“One.”

“Where? You aren’t even pointing to anything. What row? What column?”

“Six.” Bothering Edward was a nice distraction from the tingling in his arm.

“I don’t know where you want me to put a six! There are nine sixes in this grid, and I’ve only written in two of them. Give me a row and a column.”

“Two, two, six.”

“More words, please. Maybe a word in between the numbers.”

“Two, column two, six.” He looked up at Jonathan with an entirely serious expression.

“I assume you mean row two of column two should be filled in with a six. It’s already filled in with an eight.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, Jonathan. It is.” His arm was actually starting to hurt. June was still missing, though.

“Maybe row five of column two should be a one.”

“Don’t just say random numbers. Watch this.” He filled in every square in less than sixty seconds. 

“Nice. I would have put a nine there.”

“Where?”

“There.” 

“Where?!” June returned with a towel.

“Can you be normal for one minute? Here’s a hot compress for your arm.” It felt better immediately.

“Speed it up, I can handle it.”

“You can handle a heart attack? I’ll make it a tiny bit faster, but that’s it.” She hit a few buttons and he felt worse almost immediately. “Come on, Jon, let’s get you to bed.” She helped him stand up and walk while Edward pushed the IV stand behind them. Once he was close enough to the bed, he allowed himself to fall backwards. It hurt his head, but the rest of his body thanked him. Edward left the IV stand next to the bed, gave a thumbs up, and went out to the living room, presumably to work on his puzzles in peace. June worried over the machine for a moment, pressing buttons in an order only she understood.

“I have a question: how am I supposed to sleep with my arm on fire?” She pressed more buttons to lower the speed of the potassium bag and held the lukewarm towel on his arm. It barely helped. “It’s still burning. It feels like you poured boiling tea into my veins.” After checking his pulse in his right wrist, she ran back out and returned with a can of dark red kidney beans and a fork.

“Get to work. If you can eat a bit, I can take you off the IV K.”

“You want me to eat an entire can of beans?”

“No, just half a cup. A sixth of the can. I don’t like your heart rate right now, so I can’t take you off the IV K unless you start eating K.” 

“Fine.” Jonathan powered through the can of room temperature mush with June’s encouragement. He forced it down, trading his arm pain for a stomach ache. As promised, she turned off the potassium pump and left him with just the saline. 

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson. If you don’t take care of yourself, it results in a big mess.” How didn’t he realize that before? He could recognize his need to participate in his Fear Toxin research, but not his need to feed himself properly?

“Yes. I’ll take better care of myself.” She smiled.

“Good. Now, sleep.” She turned off the light and sat in his armchair, alternating between watching him and looking out the doorway. Jonathan stared at the ceiling in the dark, wondering how feasible a filter could be when his water was so polluted. He didn’t get to wonder for long, though, as he finally fell asleep.