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Description
The Riddler had a big mouth and a cocky attitude to boot, often irritating those around him with insults and his non-stop riddles. Many were unaware that he had many anxiety problems and even he would wear down eventually and lapse into often violent anxiety attacks. Most of the time he squirreled away into the countless hideaways he had around Gotham, but this time Arkham guards did not allow him to hide in time. The red-head was being constantly hounded by some very angry guards about his previous escape, ignoring his weak pleads for them to leave him alone, cornering him in the yard with no escape options. Nigma felt his heart begin to race and he dropped to his knees, holding his head in his hands as his heartbeat seemed to drown everything out, the guards sneering and laughing as they continue to poke and prod the man who was full-out crying by this point. He just felt the world getting smaller and smaller as he began to hyperventilate, begging for his tormentors to stop, only to be ignored and pushed into the corner even further. They found it hilarious that someone who usually stood so tall and insulted everyone around him was now reduced to a crying and begging mess before them. They wandered off when the whistle for dinner was blown, Nigma left to try and work through his anxiety, though he knew he would probably be stuck until someone did last rounds and dragged him inside. He closed his eyes and covered his face, more tears slipping between his fingers as the feeling of total isolation and humiliation overtook his thoughts, drowning out anything positive he tried to think of. His reddened eyes snapped open what seemed like years later when he heard hurried footsteps, feeling something warm being draped over him while whoever it was kneeled down beside him. Nigma didn’t even hesitate to let the person gently pick him up bridal-style, more tears escaping him as soft sobs began to finally leave his throat, hands gripping the familiar fabric of the Asylum uniforms which all the inmates knew by memory. Edward was carried deep into one of the old buildings, but he only focused on crying and trying to calm as a familiar scent washed over the exhausted male, not registering as he was laid out on a bed. He coughed and rubbed his eyes, taking an offered tissue and blew into it, sniffling as he looked up to see who had taken him inside. A very concerned Two-Face was sitting across from him, offering a spare pair of glasses for Nigma as his original pair had been crushed.

“We got worried when you didn’t show up for dinner...”

“I-I’m sorry…” Dent shook his head and grabbed a plate of the gruel they called food he had taken and gave it to Nigma, who pulled a face but began to eat gratefully. The ex-attorney made sure he ate every single bite, moving to sit behind Nigma while he ate. Edward took this as a signal and moved to sit in his lap, comforted almost immediately when he felt Two-Face’s arms wrap around him snugly. It sometimes shocked the scarred man how childlike Edward became after a particularly horrendous attack, only comforted when the African American man held him close. But he didn’t mind, he loved the riddle obsessed man and was willing to do whatever it took to make sure he was happy and healthy.

“Feeling better?” Two-Face asked when he saw Nigma start to become drowsy, taking the now empty plate away as he got Nigma ready for bed.

“Yes…” He yawned and nuzzled close to the other, closing his eyes with a content sigh. “I feel much better…”

“Good.” And with that Arkham fell silent…up until the point when Two-Face and Harvey hunted down the guards that had tormented Nigma and murdered each of them. What a perfect way to end a night.