ＣＲＥＥＰ! (ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

<➀> 𝗛𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗼 𝗗𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗶𝗻'

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an alternate title for this chapter is "Oxygen Thief" but I went with that one because I love Conway Twitty.

tw!! mentions of ab*se (physical and emotional) + s*icide

Y/N = your name

L/N = your last name

E/N = your ex's name

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From the very first moment to the very last goodbye we shared, I never let my guard down. An eternity on the edge. Don't get me wrong we had our good days, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved the night he left.

I cried for weeks, I couldn't eat, I could barely speak. I was nothing without him. It's like he'd been strangling me all these years and just when I could finally breathe again he ripped out my throat through my neck. 

Dating him was a Sisyphean task. A three-year long migrane. 

I always struggled with co-dependency. I never really felt whole without someone. Especially without him. But I wasn't leaving him on my own accord, not by a long shot. 

It started with a noise complaint. The co-workers started noticing the 'signs'. And then came that horrible intervention. I wasn't listening, they said. It was for my own good. So, they had to take matters into their own hands. Or to the GCPD more rather.

I sit on my hands, swinging my legs back and forth. Trying desperately to distract myself from the hellish situation I was so unceremoniously thrust into. I try to notice how much I'm shaking. Staring straight up into the ceiling.

I feel myself slowly start to dissociate. My vision slowly melts together like blood into water. My head turns into a helium balloon floating to the very top of the GCPD. 

My ears prick up to the sound of footsteps behind me. I feel my fight or flight kick in. I know I have to speak out against him, that I have to break out of this cycle for my own sake. But the words get stuck in my throat everytime I try to open my mouth.

I drown the urge to grab a cop's gun and blow my brains out and book it. I don't know where I plan to go or even how I'm going to get out of this. I just need to run.

I keep turning corners until I can't hear them chasing after me. Opening the first door I see and rushing inside. File cabinets are stacked up to the ceiling. 

It's a snug little room and if I wasn't running away from friends in a police department to avoid pressing charges on my abusive boyfriend I'd probably really enjoy it.

I crouch behind an overstocked shelf, placing my head in my hands and scrunching up my face. I hug my arms tight around me. I wish they could see that E/N isn't a bad guy. I wish I wasn't in this stupid situation.

"Can I help you?" A voice asks. A man stands, rather ominously, above me. I can barely make out his face from this poorly lit room.

"I-I'm so sorry. I-" A sharp knock on the door cuts me off. My heart falls out of my chest and rolls onto the floor. 

"Nashton! Open the door!" A police officer barks. The man glances at the door, then back at me.

"Please, you can't let them know I'm here. Please!" I half whisper desperately. He answers the door tentatively, opening it slightly. 

"Have you seen a woman around here?" The officer explains.  I look at the man, pleading silently.

"No, no, nothing like that. Just filing cabinets in here." He chuckles awkwardly. 

"Are you sure? She could be in serious danger." The police officer continues.

"Yep, sure as sure." He says.

"Okay, well, if you see anything let us know." The police officer leaves, my friends in toe.

The man closes the door and turns to me. The light hitting his face. He has a round, handsome face. His soft green eyes hidden behind clear framed glasses. His feathery chestnut brown hair pushed just out of his eyes. 

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

"Now, what are we gonna do with you?" He says, crouching down beside me. "Are you gonna tell me why you're hiding with the filing cabinets?"

"It's a long story." I try to shake it off. This guy seems nice I don't want to scare him off.

"I'm all ears." He says sincerely. I break his eye contact, staring back at the ground.

"It's kind of a sad long story. Not the most entertaining." I shrug.

"How about we start with something easy." He starts. "What's your name?"

"Y/N."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I'm Ed." He smiles softly at me. 

"Do you work for the GCPD? Like are you a cop?" I ask.

"Do I look like a cop?" 

"Nah, you don't look like that type of guy."

"I'm a forensic accountant, it's pretty much all paperwork but I love my job." He goes on. "What do you do for work?"

"I used to be a nurse down at Gotham General." I divulge."But now I just do a couple odd jobs here and there. Waitressing mostly."

"Why did you stop?" He asks.

"My boyfriend wanted me a home more." I shrug.

"What?" He remarks, giving me a confused look.

"Nothing, it's just this whole thing and my friend's are up my ass for it." I brush it off.

"Is that why you're at the police station?" He questions.

"No! Well, I mean yes but not in a bad way." I stammer my way through a response.

"Are you actually in danger? That police guy said something about-" he starts but I cut him off.

"No. That's ridiculous! This whole thing is a massive misunderstanding, he just got angry once and everyone gets a little violent sometimes." I cry. He looks at me with sympathy in his eyes but then looks away. Pausing for a moment before he speaks.

"You know, my shift just ended. If you want I can walk you out of here, make sure you don't get into any more trouble."

I smile warmly.

"I'd like that Ed."