Gotham Imagines

A Hidden Darkness

Edward x Reader

The story started when you broke up with your long-time boyfriend, Jim Gordon. The two of you had been going out for almost a year, so when he moved on and found a new girlfriend, some doctor named Lee Thompkins, you were left heartsick and empty.

You returned to work every day quietly, avoiding Jim's eyes, and doing your job with no complaint. Few people at the precinct were nice enough to talk to you anyway, but one of those people was the very nerdy Edward Nygma.

It seemed Edward was eager to speak with everyone, spitting out riddles and jokes every 5 seconds, so you thought nothing of it, and responded with snappy comebacks and comedic answers. The two of you had actually become pretty close friends in your time as a cop.

But there was one deep, dark, part of him that scared you to death. A part that was locked away inside of his head, a part that would sometimes forget what you meant to him.

You tried to shut out this part of Ed, to forget it even existed in all it's monstrosity, but there were times when his alter ego was unavoidable. Times when you were alone in the file library, searching for case papers. Times when you met his eyes on your way out the door, or when you had to see him in the forensics room for information.

Those were times he would lose himself completely. You'd cry yourself to sleep the evening after, ignoring the pain of bruises and scratches that scathed your fragile skin. Then, upon returning to work the next day, you would be sure to wear long sleeves and jeans, careful not to mention anything about it to coworkers with wandering eyes.

However, even with the modest clothing it seemed, Nygma couldn't be shut out completely. One day while you are on a case in the city, him examining a body and you speaking with a few other cops, he confronts you.

"It grows and blossoms, but can die and wilt. It happens in the beginning and can mean an end. It can make you smile or make you cry. What is it?"

"...love?" you answer hesitantly.

"Mrs. Y/L/N, Detective Gordon doesn't love you."

"What? What are you talking about?"

He pushes his glasses up on his nose and speaks quickly. "The bruise on your temple. A man who hurts his lover, doesn't love her."

You curse under your breath. The mark on your forehead, you forgot to cover it up. "Ed, that wasn't Gordon, I, uh...fell down the stairs."

He tightens his lips. "Don't try to cover up for him, Y/N. It's not right:"

More like cover up for you.

You are walking home that very night, pulling your coat tighter around you. Your apartment isn't far, just around a few blocks and under a bridge. The wind is heavy tonight, swaying through the few trees and whistling between buildings.

A thought hits your brain, reminding you of what happened today at work with Edward. Tears squeeze out of your eyes. How much longer can you keep up this act? What if Edward goes too far?

That's when you notice the figure standing across the street. It's a man, in a black coat, unmoving. Hoping whoever it is hasn't noticed your presence, you begin to shuffle across the street hastily.

Unfortunately, the man walks directly towards you. You turn your gaze towards his ominous face as he comes closer, and realize with horror, that it's him. Your whole body begins to shake as you are planted, frozen in the ground, eyes wide.

His glasses are gone, his hair ruffled. A dark look spreads across his features, targeting...you.

He raises his arm and you flinch, holding up your hands for protection, but he yanks your wrist away harshly. A bony fist slams into your jaw, leaving a pain like daggers.

Silent sobs overtake your body, leaving you crouched in a pathetic ball on the ground.

"You should have stayed away from Detective Gordon, Y/N..." he growls.

"I—I'm not...with him anymore..." The words come out a whimper.

His knuckles connect with your shoulder this time, and you can feel a bruise forming.

"P—please, Ed..." you whine pathetically, and just as he raises his hand to hit you again, something makes him pause.

Edward's face softens, his angry frown turning into a wide gape. He spreads his fingers out and look from them to you, over and over again.

"All this time..." he begins, his voice but a whisper, "it was me...?"

All you can do is nod, still hugging your legs and preparing yourself for another blow. But the blow never comes. And the only time you see Edward Nygma after that is in the papers for the framing of Jim Gordon.

Author's Note: This AMAZING request came from Starlight724 — it was SUCH a sad and scary story to write. I actually had to pause at one point, to take a mental break, though it was still fun (it turned out really long??). Oml I also feel like my imagines are getting so much darker.

On another note, there's this story you guys MUST see. It's called "Rich?" and it's written by my irl friend gl0w0rm . You guys should seriously go check it out; she writes Jerome sooo well.

Aaanyway, thanks for the support (70K OMG), and I'll be back again next week!