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Jonathan woke to the ‘soft and lovely’ noise of Gotham's traffic packed streets piercing through his apartment's thin walls. A tired grumble left his throat as he tried to further hide his face in the soft pillow he had sorely missed since he last been incarcerated into Arkham Asylum. It did nothing to mute the noise from the world outside but it helped shield his eyes from the setting sun shining in through the gaps in the blinds.
He must have slept through most of the day for the sun to reach this side of the house. It is not really a surprise considering the nightly activities he was orchestrating for nearly a week now. Breaking out of Arkham only ever went two ways, laying low and planning or having already a plan and getting the show on the road before the Bat gets to ruin all his hard work. Again. He had his plan already, his warehouses stocked up on his latest fear Toxin, the machine to defuse it just needing some more adjustments. He was so close to all the glorious fear in the citizens eyes and the screams of terror he had been fantasizing about while planning his escape from that hell hole they call a mental institution. And the only thing between it and him was that stupid bat and time itself. He felt more pressured than Calendar Man before the next Holiday.
What was a surprise however, the more the fog of sleep cleared from his mind, the more he realized the lack of any tinkering and rather obnoxious self praising and talking coming from inside the apartment, which normally woke him from his resting state. Odd.
As he slowly rose to sit up on his worn out bed, Jonathan's brows furrowed while he stared at the closed door, separating him from the rest of the apartment. The time on the alarm, sitting on his bedside table, showed 5:39 pm. Two hours later than when his sleep would normally be interrupted by his ‘roommate’. Sometimes he wonders why he still lets Nigma crash at his apartment. The guy was a self-centered, loud mouthed idiot that wasted his mechanical talent and brain to construct riddles to show Batman who is smarter. What a waste of time. . .but he had to admit those overexaturated riddles more than once bought him some more time to get his own plans going, so maybe they were not completely useless.
It still doesn't justify Riddler's bad habit of going through Jonathan blueprints and chemical notes though. But he was digressing from his initial observation, the lack of Edwards noisy presence. It couldn't be that the ginger was out to work in his hidden away workshop. The bats had caught him there last time and Nigma didn't plan to get caught right after breaking out. It was the same reason why he himself laid low in this apartment. It's a bit of a surprise that the bats never found this place, but it was not unwelcome.
Shuffling his long limbs out of the blanket that he was still wrapped in, Jonathan got up to investigate this suspicious lack of noise from the living room. He noticed that he was still dressed in his scarecrow get up from last night, remembering his disinterest in undressing in favor of sleeping before the sun rose. He could change later. . .maybe.
The door of his bedroom creaked as he opened it, an eerie sound that he still found satisfaction in whenever he heard it. Also good to act as a warning if someone actually dared breaking in.
When Jonathan rounded the corner to his living room he wasn't sure what to expect, but certainly not the Riddler laying on the couch with a wet towel over his eyes, his jacket half hazardly thrown over the back of said couch and his shoes sprawled across the floor. There are tools and blueprints along with parts looking vaguely like one of his riddle trophies all over the coffee table. It was a mess. Edward Nigma was many things, but a slob with his things normally wasn't one of them. And normally he didn't look so pale in the face either.
“What do you want? I can feel you staring.” well his mouth was working after all. And he sounded miserable, different then when his latest invention was malfunctioning or he was losing at chess. It sounded defeated, like he had been in this situation often enough to know he is powerless to do anything.
“Just amazed that you can be anything but noisy after all, Nigma.” Jonathan observed as he quirked a brow. There wasn't much movement from Edward's tense form but he could see his neutral expression turn into a slight frown.
“Fuck you.”
“I would rather not.” Jonathan hummed in twisted satisfaction to be the annoying one for a change as he walked over to the kitchen to get himself a coffee. The machine brewing the dark beverage with a moderate hissing as he waited and watched his roommate. The other man wrinkles his nose and suppresses a sneer at the noise assaulting his ears but he makes no complaints to shut the coffee maker back off. He looked like a helpless bird that flew against a window. Fascinating.
Once the machine was done and he poured himself a cup of coffee, the apartment was dipped back into comfortable silence. Jonathan expected some more self-pitying and bemoaning from Edward as he was wallowing on the couch but it never came. On the contrary, the ginger seemed to slowly relax with the ongoing silence, fingers unclenching his wrinkled shirt.
“Have you tried painkillers yet?” Jonathan asked in a bored tone, his blue eyes raking over Edwards body for the umpteenth time to catalog any new information and reaction. “Ibuprofen or aspirin? Pretty sure they are in the bathroom.”
“No.” Edward replied quietly, nearly getting drowned out by the sounds of the city outside. “I. . . didn't find them when I got the rag.” he muttered in a way that made it obvious that he was lying.
“Sounds more like you forgot to consider them as an option, Ed.” The brunette huffed, not sure if he should shake his head or laugh at the other rouge's expense. He could see Nigma tense at the accusation, but there was no snarky remark or defense, not even an insult. Jon was spot on then.
There was some hesitation in Jonathan’s action before he went to the bathroom to get the aspirin. He could just taunt and watch the Riddler stew in the misery he found himself in but it felt foolish, if it meant a petty revenge from the other man in retaliation.
Walking back, he quickly grabbed a glass and poured water into it as he sat it and the aspirin down where Edward could reach it in the coffee table. “There,” he hummed in a low tone. The ginger reached up to his face and lifted up the cloth, squinting at him with caution before eying the aspirin and water.
“I didn't spit in it.”
“What about fear toxin?”
“Is it too hard to say ‘thank you’?”
“You are dodging the question, Jon.”
“It was one time, Eddie. No it's not laced. Now take it before I change my mind.”
Watching Edward sit up was pathetic, way too slow and struggling for the normally prideful rogue. The grimace of pain for battling a migraine was worse than whenever his leg was even acting up. Jon observed as the Riddler chucked down two aspirins along with the water before closing his eyes and resisting his head in his hands.This slouched position with his elbows resting on his thighs not changing anything if the vulnerability he was exerting.
“Thanks…”
It was faint, barely an exhale. But it was honest gratitude for the small mercy Scarecrow was showing him.
“Don't mention it.” the brunette hummed absentmindedly before returning to the kitchen to rummage through one of the cupboards. There wasn't much in this place, not when there was so rarely anyone here, but he kept some snacks around, just in case.
“ I take it that you have not eaten anything?”
“Figured you are not keen on the smell of vomit. . .” Edward retorted humorlessly. “I certainly don't want to add to my misery.”
“Well an empty stomach won't prevent that either. It would only mean you throw up pure stomach acid instead of partially digested food.” Jonathan said before tossing a package of crackers towards the couch. The content rattles softly as it bounces off the cushions. “Taking meds on an empty stomach is also a dumb idea. So eat.”
“ Wow. So nurturing.” Edward huffed but made no attempt to move or get the boy by his side. How Riddler managed to irk him even without any real energy should be upsetting. The silence felt forever before the ginger moved and blindly reached for the box. His frame shifted to lean back against the couch as he opened the package and took out one of the crackers. He was merely nibbling on it, unsure if he could really stomach the salty snack right now, but it was something.
Jonathan turned away to tend to the rest of his coffee, considering the busy streets outside the apartment complex. People mingling and walking unaware of the ill intending individuals around every corner. Unaware of the horrors that will await them once he can set his plan into motion.
“Jonathan?”
“What, Ed?”
“I asked when was the last meal you ate?” Riddler was still having his eyes closed as he asked, head tilted but not to look into Scarecrow's direction.
“Yesterday.” Jon hummed absentminded. This conversation wasn't as interesting as watching a guy run down the street with a purse he had clearly stolen.
"When exactly?"
Jon didn't answer.
“Seriously? You forgot to eat without me to remind you again? We have been over this.”
“You are currently no better than me, Edward.” Scarecrow bristled, not licking that this was once again brought up. Why did Ed even care in the first place? It doesn't concern him.
“I didn't want to throw up while you are the one with the concerningly underweight,
marked down in their file, not me.” Edward sassed with more bite than before. Apparently the aspirin are working. Great. “ Eat.”
With that the ginger shook the box of crackers softly. An unspoken order to join him on the couch. No room for debate. Jonathan rolled his eyes but complied. Maybe he was a little hungry. One cracker won't hurt.
Once he sat down he could feel the warmth of Ed's body radiate against his side. They were not touching. Taking one of the crackers, Jon looked at it with a bored expression. He was not hesitating. No attempt of stalling the inevitable. It wasn't.
Edward was slowly eating another cracker next to him. No pressuring or watching him get over it already. Jon took a small bite. It tasted as expected. Salty. Bits of the snack getting stuck like a second layer on the top of one of his molars. He hated it, but he kept eating.
It felt like forever. Silence only filled with the noise of crackers getting pulled out of the box as this was their lunch.
It could be much worse.