Gotham One-shots

Moio (Edward x reader)

(This takes place after Edward is turned into a popsicle - Oh! And Ed never got rid of his pills.)

(Warning: drug use, and hallucinations)

           Well, here you are, sitting in your best friend's apartment.

Your best friend... Edward Nygma.

The Riddler, himself.

You always had a feeling that Oswald 'liked' Ed, as in, Oswald was in love.

However, Ed didn't return the feelings. Instead, he bragged, he bragged and bragged about this woman.        (No. Not Isabitch)

Although you never knew, the woman he just would not shut up about was, in fact, you.

And, yes, now here we are.

Stuck in this little predicament.

You had kept some of Edward's things.

Surely, he would come back, right? You thought, he's just frozen in time.

But, deep down, you felt that he was slowly dying.

And you couldn't save him, no matter how much you wanted to.

Penguin would have you killed at the drop of a hat.

Scattered across the table, in front of you, are various pill containers.

Which container holds the pills you were seeking is beyond me, even.

I guess you're just gonna have to pick one.

You did... eventually.

You picked a navy-blue, rectangular container, inside it: tiny, tic-tac-looking pills.

You take one, waiting for the effects to kick in.

Painfully slow, it did.

Voices came rushing into your mind, flooding your senses.

All of a sudden - silence.

It was completely silent, that is, until you heard a cough come from behind you.

You turn around, only to find the Edward Nygma. The very Edward Nygma that you had bonded with oh so many times before. The very Edward Nygma that you fell in love with.

His face look blue-ish. It didn't look like him at all. His clothes torn -not right.

"I can hear you, but I can't see you." You cup his face - cold as ice.
"You said, 'baby keep me secret.' I agreed to."

"We got a system," you say, letting your hands fall to your sides, "no competition. "

You raise your hands in false defeat.

"Don't gotta worry about your girl, I ain't no victim."

You grab the container of pills, "not a doctor, nor diagnosis," you chucked the pill bottle at him, but, he caught them easily with one hand, "fucks with me or all my homies, 'cause we own this."

You placed an index finger on both of your temles, "Fire, fire, I see red... I hear voices. In. My. Head."

He gasps lightly, not expecting that obviously, even though he's a halusination himself.

"____, we have to---"

"[Don't you dare say that I need help!] Just hear me out!" You plead, "let 'em talk, let 'em talk, let 'em work it out. Just hear me out. Got a mind of its own that I'm about."

Your eyes now flooding, "don't tune me out! Let 'em talk, let 'em talk, we can work this out."

He stepped back, distancing himself further from you.

"Just hear me out, j-just hear me out." At this point, you're a sobbing mess.

He opens his mouth, his eyes falling shut in agreement, "mind of its own, mind of its own, mind of its own." He repeats, while you whisper, "just hear me out, just hear me out, just hear me out."

You shake your head, now half-smirking, "it's not a monster, it's not a demon, it's not a body or a person to believe in."

He understands. You thought he would,  him being a hallucination and all.

"I'm not a villain [like yourself], no I'm no angel. Just a kid accustomed to a life of fables. [Sound familiar, Eddie?]"

You scoffed, "fuck a title, [like 'Ridder'], you know what you are."

He frowns, stepping forward, reaching for your hand, and entertwining your fingers with his.

You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, "I feel a hand in mine when I'm alone in the dark."

You choked on sobs, again. "P-promised I won't let them win, but all their words pull me back in." He pulls on your arms, now cradling you like a child. "Fire, fire, I see red. I hear voices in my head."

You sniffled, he wiping a tear, that fell off your cheek, what's his thumb. "Just hear me out, let 'em talk, let 'em talk, let 'em work it out. Just hear me out. Got a mind of its own that I'm about."

You look up, into those murky, brown fountains he calls his eyes.

" Don't tune me out. Let 'em talk, let 'em talk, we can work this out. Just hear me out. J-just hear me out."

You bury your face into his tuxedo jacket, he repeats, "mind of its own, mind of its own, mind of its own."

You whisper to him, one final time, "j-just hear me out."

He answers, "always."

You look up, to see if that there is nothing there, that you were being cradled by air.

...

That Edward was gone.