Encrypted <?> (Edward Nashton x Reader)

11:11

"-Get out of Gotham."

"W-what?" you studdered.

"You heard me, leave this place. Preferably tonight, wouldn't want you getting hurt."

Was this it? Was this the big finale he'd been advertising?
"Eddy, what are you doing."

He sighed and got up from his chair. Saying nothing more, Edward walked over to the prisoner's door and knocked on it 3 times. It opened and that was it. That was the last time you would ever talk to Edward Nashton face to face.

The thought hit you like a truck, or even worse, a train. The man you loved, trusted, and shared so many memories with, leaving without saying goodbye. Everything was slowly piecing itself together. If Edward left after telling you something important, it had to mean something. He was a man of his word, anything he said would normally happen.
I've got to get out of here.

Dashing out of the visitor's hall, you nodded politely at the security gaurds who were stunned to see someone fly out the doors. The impala was right where you'd parked it. It was drenched in the rain, making the black paint stand out against the dark night. None the less, it turned on like a dream and was on the road in a few minutes.

You'd reached your appartment within 10 minutes of driving and running through red lights. Suprisingly, no cop pulled you over. But that was irrelevant. You had to leave Gotham, and fast. You parked the impala right outside the appartment for easy access in and out.

You were truly, that upstairs neighbor. The sound of boxes dragging along the floor was enough to earn a few complaints and knocks. The furniture wasn't worth much at all. It was there from when you first moved to Gotham. Found on the side of the street, it was a good deal for a broke detective.

Why had you become a detective in the first place? Why had you specifically decided to work on the Riddler case? Was it his charm that drew you in? To think about it made every little detail of working with Edward come back. Oh god. The memories hurt. Even though he was the bad guy in your story, you couldn't help but think that he wasn't. His intentions were awful, there was no possible way he could be someone other than the antagonist.

No time to think about it too hard, you had to leave. The final box was lugged out of the living room and you took a final look.
I never really got to spend much time here. Batman really kept me on my toes. Kind of miss it.
No way I just said that.

A sigh escaped your mouth, and you closed the door for the final time. Picking the key from behind the umbrella holder, a note laid infront of it. It was sealed with a fine green wax, and stamped with a question mark. The guesture made your heart leap in hope.

Dearest Y/N,

By this point, I'm most likely in Arkham. You must be packing up (hopefully) which is why you stumbled across this letter. I hope dearly that we'll meet again, but for right now, I'll be serving quite a lot of time here. But I promise you, I'll come find you when I get out of this hell hole. Stay alert, be careful, and find something to do until I can get to you again.

Can't wait to find you,
-?

What did I just read.

The letter shocked you, further proving your point. You have to leave. And soon.

Everything was packed away in soggy cardboard boxes and dragged to the impala. They filled up every crevice of the car and began to nudge you in the driver's seat. The begining of the drive was awful, bumps (or possibly carcasses) everywhere, the rain was blocking any sort of view you had left, and the terrible mood you were in didn't help either.

Maybe the radio would help.
Clicking the knob, the radio hosts voice boomed through the speakers.

"For all of you at home slow dancing to 103.5 oldies, we have a special one all the way from 1941. "I'll Never Smile Again" performed by Tommy Dorsey & his Orchestra!"

I'll never smile again until I smile at you,

You were boarding the bridge that led out of Gotham, looking back at the sad city one last time.

I'll never laugh again, what good would it do?

The final thoughts and memories coming back to flood your memory.

For tears would fill my eyes, my heart would realize, that our romance is through.

The impala began to pass Arkham, letting you have one final look at where your lover rested.

I'll never love again, I'm so in love with you.

You lifted your hand from the steering wheel, placed a kiss on the palm, and pressed it to the window.

I'll never thrill again to somebody new.

The tears began now. Your vision was completely wiped, and there was no choice but to pull over. A spot right next to the bridge was perfect. One last look at Gotham before your departure forever was just what you needed. One last chance to turn back and forget what Edward had said.

The pull off was decently nice. A good place for taking pictures, you supposed. Perching on the top of the car, you took a deep breath in, and exhaled. What shortly followed wasn't so pleasant.

Explosions riddled from inside the city, letting off a splash of yellow and orange. The seawalls began to fold in on themselves, and the flooding began. Buildings collapsed under the pressure of the waves, cars bled into the ocean, and the sound of people screaming was not one to forget. A calm night in Gotham, turned into a panic in under 20 seconds. The bridge fell apart in the manic, leaving citizens trapped in a soon-to-be Atlantis. The worst part, You weren't affected. Normally in this situation, one begins to panic and feel bad for victims. You had seen this coming with the help of (perhaps more than) a friend.

What's he doing now? What's he doing now that his plan was fully executed, and he remained unaffected?

It simply didn't matter. You were happy for him. Maybe one day he would come find you again, but that seemed highly unlikely.

"It was fun while it lasted, Eddy."

Fin.
1078 words