[TRIGGER WARNING: BLOOD, VOICES, GLASS CUTS, LOSS OF HOPE ]
AS THE RIDDLER WAS NOW DEAD, the first thing Eddie did was cover his tracks. He had no time to waste.
First, he disabled the tracking on the Batmobile. Then, he put Bruce's body in the freezer; he was lucky to have a fridge in his lair. He put a bag of frozen peas under Bruce's head as a pillow, took one last look, and shut it. Only an hour passed before Eddie left the lair. It was the first time he would go to his apartment since he had been diagnosed with leukemia.
There were a lot of things he hadn't done since he was diagnosed with leukemia three months ago. He used to take care of himself attentively. But ever since three months ago, when he held a doctor hostage and was diagnosed, it had gone out the window.
Forgetting to brush his teeth was the most recent development in this. His teeth were laced with bacteria and plaque. But when he was first diagnosed, he stopped washing his hair. Then, started to only shower once a week. Most of the time, Eddie smelled of gas and sweat. His skin felt rough and dry. He bruised easily and had dropped twenty pounds. Also due to the fatigue, he hadn't been doing nearly as much public crimes. But he was doing some crimes.
Most of the time he was tinkering with his Riddle-bots. Sometimes he'd be making plans, almost going through with them, then canceling them at the last minute. Lately, he had been helping Scarecrow with a plan to send a package of fear toxin to every door in Gotham. And he hadn't thought to cancel it...yet.
What he was thinking about was what was next for him. Eddie always used fighting Batman as a retreat. An escape from the sickness—from the reality that he was no longer a stunning villain. Even if he was never going through with his plans. Just the idea gave him something to focus on. Now his escape was lost. The door to his happy place was locked shut.
The door to his apartment opened. Eddie wasn't surprised. Everything was the same. Except now, there was some dust. Luckily for him, he cleaned his apartment before he left it. He immediately walked into the living room and fell on the couch. His whole body ached. He felt the bruises.
The bruises were what always scared him the most about leukemia. He felt the need to check the damage. He slowly stood. The wooden floorboards creaked underneath his feet. He slowly made his way to the bathroom; pulling off his green blazer whilst walking. He threw off his undershirt and tie. Once there, he stared at himself in the mirror. His chest was bare. He frowned. He had bruises all over his chest and arms. He felt ugly. Broken. Used, and now useless. The voices were louder than ever. There was nothing there, but he felt something screaming in his ear. Suddenly, it dawned on him.
There was nothing for him to believe in anymore.
He formed a fist and threw his right knuckle into the mirror, shattering the glass. He screamed out in pain and fell backward. He threw his head back. Blood trickled over his hands. It was like a waterfall of blood was slowly washing over them. His whole body was shaking, he yelled out again as he squeezed his eyes shut. Tears began to form in his eyes. And suddenly, all Eddie felt tears and blood all over him. Eventually, he laid there on the bathroom floor. Nothing to cover him but his green suit, blood, and tears. He leaned his head up and looked down at himself. That was when it dawned on him. He was still wearing most of the suit.
Eddie gradually got off the ground; still shaking. He unbuckled his belt and took off the pants of the suit. He went to walk out of the bathroom but screamed in pain as he felt himself step in the glass. He dropped to the ground once more, halfway in the bathroom and halfway on the wooden floorboards of the hallway. He crawled further into the hallway and pulled his legs away from the bathroom floor.
Stuck within that moment, staring at the glass on the bathroom floor, Eddie knew something was coming. A renaissance in his life. A change so great that it could help him take care of himself again. He had every reason to be doubtful, but something in him felt...new.
