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gothamlonelyhearts · 1 year

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posting this cuz i cant remember if i posted it anywhere else other than my ao3 which is full of angsty drivel i don't want to share here. augh

summary:

a lot of this is inspired by how i felt when i adopted my oldest cat a few years ago and how its changed me as a person

this is meant to be after/during the first half of riddler year one #1

it's storming again. it's been storming all month, actually. every day is exactly the same - grey skies and a deluge of rain that stinks of pollution. the city is exactly the same as its been for decades. polluted, literally and metaphorically.

the relative quiet out here is relieving, but no less suffocating than the stuffy congestion of public transit.

edward realizes he's been breathing shallowly and forces a few deep breaths on his way down the sidewalk. the weight and heat of his baggy coat keep him sane, for the time being.

in such a rush to get home... for what? nothing awaits him there. an empty, messy home, dim and depressing.

his mind wanders to gorier fantasy for a moment - perhaps he won't come in to work tomorrow, because he won't have to wake up into this miserable world again. perhaps tonight, he will have the altruism to remove himself from an already suffering world. no more breath or space will be wasted on him.

the thought is cut off when he notices the lanky, shuddering figure of a black and white cat, soaked to the skin and standing terrified beside a pile of trash. well, at least, the cat seemed to have had white markings at some point - it was hard to tell beneath the dirt caked into its fur.

edward stares at the cat. it stares back at him. something in his guts churns and flips. there were many strays on the streets of the city. all kinds of animals born into a life of neglect. he felt a kinship to them for that.

of course, edward had the displeasure of living under the tyrannical, soulless thumb of a landlord just as devoid of human emotion as all the rest of them. it's easy to acknowledge when you can't save all the strays, but it was risky to try and save even one. even to an animal, edward was basically useless.

the waterlogged feline takes a shaky step toward edward and lets out a scratchy meow. he crouches, not caring too much about the downpour he is standing in. the cat opens its mouth in what should've been a cry, but all that comes out is a creaky groan. edward's stomach turns again. strays never last long. not here, not anywhere. maybe he isn't like a stray, then. he's survived decades of neglect. perhaps he's more like a cockroach, he thinks - rotten, repulsive. nauseating and nothing more than a pest.

if the cat notices anything different about his demeanor, it doesn't let on, instead brushing its bony frame up against edward's leg. he strokes its dirty fur, taking brief refuge from his thoughts through the knowledge that he was likely the kindest person the kitty had encountered.

it seems friendly enough, and it was quite a small cat. not quite a kitten, but not quite grown. without allowing himself time to back out, edward scoops the cat up and continues his route home. it's not a long way and his apartment is typically left alone. even if he knows he can't keep the animal safe forever, he can't leave it to die in the cold rain.

by the time he makes it home and shuffles into his apartment, the cold has already crept in through his layers of thick clothing. edward had always hated being cold - even as an adult, the feeling awoke some sort of primal fear in him. perhaps it was just natural, after spending his childhood shivering and panting with his extremities numb from the lack of heating at the orphanage. perhaps that was why the cat was growing more restless, squirming and mewling in protest from its secure spot in edward's arms.

"hold on, kitty," he breathlessly murmurs, as if the cat is going to understand him. the sound of his own voice is a bit foreign when he isn't attempting to force a tone of professional diplomacy. it makes him realize how little he used his voice outside of the drab walls of the office. all the more reason that no one would miss him once he was gone. he realizes that by taking the feline into his home, tonight certainly cannot be the night. ah, well. he had another sixty or so years ahead of him, a couple more days caught in his rut of a life wouldn't be anything. he kicks the front door shut, trying not to slam it and alarm the cat. it clicks shut and the cold draft is cut off instantly.

the inside of his apartment is a dull mess and it isn't exactly warm and comfortable, but it isn't as bad as the windy, icy downpour he just fought through. relieved that its over, edward crouches and allows the cat to roam free. it hops out of his arms and sniffs the air.

just as soon as he's arrived home, however, ed realizes something important he'd forgotten.

"i don't have any cat food."

the cat looks up at him curiously, not comprehending a word that came out of his mouth but still pleased to be spoken to. it rubs against ed's shins again, purring loud enough for him to be able to hear clearly.

ed decides that he could at least shower and decompress a little before going back out for cat food. he crouches down again, petting along the cat's back. he can feel every vertebrae on its spine. it reminds him a little of his own youth - clearly, the pledged donations that gotham's richest had swore to the orphanage didn't go into feeding those kids. even though the cat must've been starving and unwell, it uses its scant energy to show affection. not just to anyone, but to ed, who had hardly even done the bare minimum for its wellbeing. a pang of guilt hits him and he changes his mind once again - the shower could wait.

"i'll be back, please don't pee anywhere." he implores the oblivious cat, realizing as soon as the words leave his mouth that he will need a litterbox too.

by the time he's back from the store, his scarce funds have been blown on a couple of things; a bag of cat food, a litterbox (and litter, of course), a couple cheap plastic bowls... along with a few packets of cat toys, cat treats, and a singular energy drink. it wasn't like he spent his money on anything good when it wasn't all eaten up by the exorbitant rent or cheap food that made up his bare minimum expenses, and at least this way, he could show kindness to someone - or something - that obviously was deprived of it.

"i'm home!" he announces to the near-empty apartment. the cat meows and trots up to him, its yellow eyes wide with eagerness. ed realizes that it feels a little bit nice to be greeted, even if that greeting came from an animal. "i got you a lot of things."

the cat circles his legs, meowing and headbutting his ankles. edward didn't know much about cats - or any pets, really - but he could tell the cat was impatiently asking for dinner. so, he made his way to the kitchen and set the plastic bags full of cat things down on the counter, clumsily avoiding the cat weaving in and out of his path. as soon as he cracks open the bag of kibble, the cat leaps onto the counter and lets out an impatient "myeeaaauurghh" right beside his ear. ed just chuckles a little and fills the small dish with kibble. the cat goes to eat it right there, but ed scoops up the bowl and sets it on the ground.

by the time he's filled up the water dish, the food bowl is empty. the cat must've been starving - he'd known that before, but it was even more obvious now. a pang of resentment and ire hits him. what kind of person leaves a defenseless animal out on the streets to die? the cat didn't ask for any of this - for all ed knew, it could've been a descendant of other strays who weren't lucky enough to be found by someone who cared. he looks at the unkempt little creature and his chest aches a little. it still had such a bright personality for an animal that had been born into a world of neglect and cruelty. perhaps he'd found something he and the cat didn't have in common.

his mind wanders to his earlier thought spiral as he fills the litterbox and sets it under the bathroom sink. sure, the cat was safe tonight, but one day, his landlord would show up uninvited, or one of his stupid neighbors would snitch when they see him bringing home pet supplies. even if today, he did something good, it wouldn't matter in the long run - he was entirely helpless to what the future held for either himself or the cat.

he sets out a few of the cheap cat toys he'd picked up and trudges up the stairs to finally shower.

edward undresses the same way he always did - towel over the full-length mirror on the door. he tosses his clothes in a messy pile by the door and shivers as he waits for the ice-cold water to warm. he sits on the ground in his boxers, his eyes catching on the white streaks of scar tissue along the insides of his thighs. there's others, haphazardly littered along his upper arms and his hips, all sizes and shapes, lacerations and burns and reminders of how lucky he was he'd never been carted away to a hospital... and despite how sick and uneasy he feels upon seeing them, it's stranger to imagine his body without them. still, they're a burden. the nagging feeling that one day someone will see and know what he'd done ate away at him.

it didn't matter, though. he wouldn't live that long and no one would see his body while he was alive.

ed stood up and finished undressing, stepping into the shower and relaxing a bit once he wasn't freezing his ass off anymore. he went through the rote, meticulous acts of cleaning himself up. despite knowing he'd just have to go through it all tomorrow, he couldn't help but scrub himself raw a few times over. feeling dirty was something else he'd hope to leave in his childhood.

the silence of the house was suddenly broken. the sounds of scraping at the door made edward's body tense up. he barely had time to panic about how there was certainly some deranged lunatic outside the bathroom door clawing at the wood like a wild animal when he heard a loud meow.

oh. right. there's a cat here.

feeling stupid - but relieved - edward decided it couldn't hurt to talk to the cat. after all, no one else was around. even if they did hear, his neighbors likely already thought he was crazy.

"just give me a few minutes, i'll be out soon!" he called. it felt silly. incredibly silly, actually. the cat didn't even know what he said.

as if to prove the point, the cat let out another demanding meow.

by the end of the night, edward had grown used to having an animal roaming his house. despite the mess, the cat didn't seem excessively interested in things like discarded wires, thankfully.

ed blinked his dry eyes, glancing at the bottom right of his computer screen. 4:01 AM.

he heaved a big sigh, pushing himself out of his computer chair. his legs were sore, his neck was sore, his fingers cramped from typing, and he was pretty sure every night he spent obsessively poring over forums and self-help websites was making his eyesight deteriorate at an alarming rate. feeling defeated and unfulfilled again, he drags himself into his unmade bed and wiggles around in the blankets, trying to get himself comfortable enough to hopefully sleep before the sun comes up. he finds his comfort lying on his stomach, gripping his pillow tight.

even after decades of knowing that he should've never been born, death is still terrifying to edward. it haunts him every night - will he wake up tomorrow? how long would it be until he was found? no one would attend his funeral. maybe his landlord would find him a month later, for no other motive than to collect the money ed hadn't given him. he'd been having chest pains. maybe living off of instant noodles and energy drinks would make his heart give out. maybe he would die just as pathetically as he lived.

a sudden weight on his bed - and then on his back - startles him enough to earn an audible gasp.

again, he realizes that there is a cat in his house. right. that would take some getting used to. (and just as he got used to it, just as he got attached, it'd be taken away from him. what had edward done to himself and this poor animal?)

the cat walks along his back and settles between his shoulders blades. he feels the alternating weight of paws pushing on his back - oh, kneading. right. cats kneaded. wasn't that a familial bonding thing? it makes him feel a little touched that the cat was that fond of him, but the unease in his stomach grew. was he really doing the right thing by taking in an animal who he'd inevitably let down?

the thoughts melted away as the cat laid down on his back, leaning its little head forward and sniffing at him. its long whiskers tickle at his ear and he pulls back a little at the unfamiliar feeling. still, its nice. he realizes that he hadn't given it a bath yet - that would have to wait until tomorrow, though. the sound of purring allows him to relax.

"good night," edward mumbles to the cat. even if this cat couldn't stay forever, at least tonight, he'd given a stray a home.

#my writing #riddler year one #edward nashton #yeah sure ill post in the main tags why not. <- afraid

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