#Edward Nygma isn’t the only cunning linguist

[offearitself]

"Edward Nygma has died."

“… Has died. Finish it in my ask box. - (( Thanks anon! @this-cunning-linguist ))

Crane noticed that the atmosphere of Arkham Asylum was unusually heavy, even for the place that it was, and when he saw Batman there, in the hallways - talking to Commissioner Gordon, and Warden Sharp - and when he heard the whispered rumors of an inmate having passed away, and when he felt people looking at him, he knew something serious must have happened. And then, suddenly, he was taken from his cell, and brought to a visiting room, and the Bat himself was in there, and-

“You’re lying!” The words tore themselves from the Scarecrow’s throat as soon as Batman somberly delivered the news of the Riddler’s death; indeed, Crane refused to believe it. He refused to believe that the man he loved, that the man who gave him a reason to live beyond his own obsessions, that the man who made everything bad about him disappear, that the man who made his grandmother’s ever-present voice finally be silent, could be dead. “You’re just saying that to make me stay here in Arkham, aren’t you? You’re cruel, Batman, saying something so - so heinous when - when you - when you know we’re… to…gether…”

Crane’s voice trailed off as he gave the matter more thought, as he faced the truth. Batman didn’t kill; he would never lie about something like this; any of the rogues knew that. In his heart, the Scarecrow knew his enemy wouldn’t say Edward was dead if it wasn’t true. Crane said nothing as this realization hit him, not even when pressed, not even as Batman tried to give his condolences, and he was soon led back to his cell by two guards. Blue eyes glanced into the Riddler’s as the trio passed it, and Jonathan prayed he would see his lover’s smiling face.

It was empty.

A lump formed in his throat as he neared the door of his own cell, and his chest began to tighten and hurt, and in a burst of strength and speed that not even Batman could stop, Crane tore away from the security personnel. He had once worked at the asylum - he knew the quickest routes to any possible room - including the morgue.

And, when the Scarecrow entered that very room, when he lunged for a body bag, as those who gave chase tried to restrain him - Crane’s hands were on the zipper, tugging it down - the table was starting to tilt, he struggled to look inside, he saw -

“Eddie…?” Immediately, any effort at resistance left him, and Crane was easily subdued as he saw Edward’s face within, as the bag was zipped shut, as the sound of it echoed off the morgue’s walls. And yet, as Batman grabbed him, turning him away from the sight of his dear partner’s corpse, gently saying, “Don’t look, Jon - let’s go,” as Crane found it harder and harder to breathe, as he had to cling to the Dark Knight’s armor so he could try and stand-

Crane’s wails and sobs echoed off the walls, too, even as he shrieked “That’s not him! Batman, tell me that isn’t him!”, even as he couldn’t deny what he’d seen, what his mind knew to be true. The stoical facade was gone - his usual composure was gone - he couldn’t hope to maintain it when his beloved was dead.

Batman’s firm grip - wrapped around the mourner’s frame in a hug as it might have been - was the only thing stopping the grieving Scarecrow from running back towards the body. Still, he cried, and sobbed, and wailed, and screamed, and no matter what anyone said or did, there was no chance at calming or comforting or consoling him, and even a slight loosening of the Dark Knight’s grip meant Crane lunged towards Edward again, desperate to hold him, begging him to wake up, to come back, “Edward, don’t leave me, I can’t do this anymore, what the hell am I supposed to do now, I need you, Eddie, I’m scared-”

Eventually, they had to get a sedative.

#one: i got carried away #two: i actually cried writing this one #thiscunninglinguist #this-cunning-linguist #dr. crane will see you now ( answered asks ) #a different mask ( anonymous asks )