It’s About Time
Ed Nygma/The Riddler x Reader
Prompt: Ed offers to help you with time management when you tell him you’re stressed at work. Your conversation is interrupted by an attack on the GCPD by the Maniax.
Warnings: Mentions of murder, cannibalism, r*pists, abuse, and general graphic violence. Gotham typical violence. Mental health struggles. Sensory issues and meltdowns common with autism. Panic. Near death experiences. Claustrophobia. References to being buried alive. Nightmares.
A/N: I’m rewatching Gotham and I didn’t realize the missed potential for hurt/comfort the first time I watched this show 7 years ago. My work load has been really heavy lately, but this show broke me out of my writers block and I made time for the writing bug. This takes place in the middle of Ed’s Riddler arc. He hasn’t fully become the Riddler yet, but he has already made his first kill. The reader has qualities of an autistic person, but is not explicitly said to be autistic. I accidentally code a lot of my characters to be autistic because I am, but this was more intentional to reflect Ed’s autistic coding. Feel free to read into it or not! You don’t have to be autistic to read and hopefully enjoy this! Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.
“I’ve been so stressed lately.” You sigh. “It’s like I can’t get anything done that I actually need to get done.” You stand in the hallway of the precinct talking to your friend Ed. You were stressing about this case and Jim Gordon was making you go through hundreds of old files for him. You were never part of the real action, but the horrifying crime scene photos and evidence you had to pull through everyday was taking a toll on you. Gordon’s time crunches never helped either. You understood that lives were often on the line, but that didn’t make it any easier.
“What can some people never get enough of and others say is too much? What has the ability to fly when having fun or is stuck completely frozen when you need it to move?” He smiles. You stare at him blankly. You had not been getting enough sleep. You loved hearing his riddles, but you were never the best at giving him the answers. It was so hard for your mind to keep track of it all. “Do you give up?” He asks.
“My brain just isn’t braining right now.” You laugh. “What’s the answer?”
“Time.” He beams, happy with himself. “You should try to implement a better time management plan. You look tired all the time. It’s like you’re not even sleeping.”
“Thanks, Ed.” You give a dry laugh.
“You know what I mean.” You nod in an agreement with him. “You might be the only person who usually knows what I mean.” He says, fiddling with his fingers and the buttons on his coat.
He was right. Nobody quite seemed to get him, but nobody quite seemed to get you either. You had always felt this odd draw to him that you could never quite explain. Truthfully you think you have feelings for him, but you always bury them. He saw you as a friend and he really needed a friend. Besides he had been pinning over Kristen since before you even got to the precinct. You had mixed feelings towards her. On one hand you felt bad for her. She was always getting mixed up with shitty boyfriends who treated her poorly, but on the other hand she had a mean streak. You never liked how she treated Ed. It was like he wasn’t a person with feelings to her and that made you so angry.
“You’re right. I haven’t been sleeping.” You tell him.
“Why is that?” He asks.
“We live in Gotham. With the terrifying shit we see everyday, I don’t know how anyone sleeps.”
“Are you having nightmares again?” He asks, his face painted with concern.
“It’s fine. It’s just work stress. It’s just this case. I’m fine.” You smile. It wasn’t a real smile. Your smiles always came so naturally around Ed that he knew something was off. He was about to press when you heard gunshots coming from down the hall. Your body immediately froze like a dear in headlights in the middle of the hallway.
You’ve had violent people in the precinct before and it always made you nervous, but this was different. The Maniax were on the loose and you knew they were too unhinged to care about survivors or bargains. With Jerome Valeska at the helm, along side cannibals, rapists, and murderers you were terrified. They’d escaped from Arkham days ago and already managed to murder dozens of people. This was far too close to the action for you, as you heard Jerome’s laugh bellowing down the hall from the bullpen; a laugh you remembered from one of your early cases at the precinct. You had felt bad for him and tried to help him when his mother died. You will never forget the laugh he let out when Jim realized he wasn’t as innocent as you’d thought. It ran a chill through your spine.
Everything started moving too fast when you realized you were being pulled down the hall quickly. Once you realized you were holding hands, you tightly grasped Ed’s hand, not wanting to be separated from him. He brings you further down the hall into the ME’s lab.
“W-where are we going?” You stutter. It’s like your mouth can’t keep up with your racing mind.
“Do you trust me?” He looks at you trying to stay calm.
“Ed, what are you doing?” You’re panicking. He can tell. It’s not hard to tell, as your hands fidget and your breathing is heavy. You’re trying to stay calm.
“(Y/N), I need you to trust me.” He places his hands on your shoulders in an effort to ground you with the pressure. You close your eyes and nod, hesitantly. You do trust him.
Ed runs to the cold lockers and opens one, checking to see if it’s empty. He finds a dead body inside. You cringe. Seeing bodies is rare for you and you’re still getting used to it.
“Oh dear… okay… second times the charm…” He mumbles to himself trying to find an empty locker. “Bingo!” He smiles, finding an empty one. The wheels start to turn in your head.
“No! I’m not getting in there!” Your panic increases. Ed shushes you.
“This is our best chance. I promise I’ll let you out as soon as I can.”
“We won’t be together?” Your eyes start to burn. You try to keep back tears. You’re shaking.
“We won’t both fit in the same one. I’m gonna go in the one above you-“
“No no please I- I don’t wanna be by myself! Please don’t leave me!” You cut him off and beg him. Ed awkwardly rubs his thumbs across your shoulders where he places his hands again, still trying to ground you. It’s awkward, but it’s still somewhat calming.
“I’m not leaving you. I would never leave you. I’ll be right next to you the whole time. I promise. I need you to trust me.” You’re not sure if it’s because it’s life or death, or if it’s because it’s Ed, but you reluctantly let him help your shaking body into the mortuary cabinet. When it comes time to let go of his hand and close the cabinet, you don’t want to. Despite quickly running out of time, he knows he needs to be patient. He knows how hard this is for you. He’s always known you’re a bit claustrophobic. He had no idea one of your worst fears was being buried alive. Being stuck in a cold locker wasn’t too far from either of those things. He can hear footsteps far down the hall. The Maniax were never subtle. He kisses the hand he’s holding quickly before closing your locker and climbing into his own. You were surprised by the kiss, but you couldn’t think about that right now and what it could have meant. Your mind couldn’t keep up. He had to leave his own locker unlocked, unable to properly close it from the inside, but he locked yours to make it look more convincing.
When Ed heard you cry, he began to whisper, hoping he could be loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough for the Maniax to not notice. “It’s okay, (Y/N). I’m still here.” It was enough to quiet your sobs. Tears silently streamed down your cheeks. Ed’s voice had a certain gentleness to it when he spoke to you. He was being especially gentle now. You had seen him angry, upset, anxious, energetic, but his calm voice was reserved for you. Even in this moment when he was admittedly not very calm, he was trying his best to mask his own fears to keep you safe.
You always reserved parts of yourself for each other; parts of yourselves that the other person enabled you to be. You were never as bold as you wanted to be, but when people were rude to Ed you stuck up for him. He brought out a more confident version of you. For Ed, he knew you struggled with staying calm when you were stressed, upset, anxious or scared, even when you were happy. All of your emotions were so big and you rarely knew how to contain them. He tried to stay calm because he knew you saw him as a calming person in your life. He liked being your hero when everyone else only saw him as a weak, odd, nuisance. He also liked that he could read you and that you were honest with him. He trusted you and it helped keep the voice in his head at bay. He didn’t have to question himself with you. He didn’t have to take advice from the voice in his head.
You tried to keep your meltdown as quiet as possible when you heard footsteps approach. They were heavy, not ones you recognized. You knew it had to be one of the Maniax, probably the cannibal. You tried to make your breath as quiet as possible. After what you assume was a poor sweep of the room, the man leaves.
After what seems like hours of being trapped in a corpse you finally hear sirens and then chatter. You hear Ed climb out of the locker above you. He opens your locker and you let out an audible sob.
“I think they’ve gone.” He says, pulling out the drawer to let your body get some much needed air. You start gasping and sobbing, shaking on the drawer of the mortuary cabinet. Your body jolts up. You just want to get away from the locker.
“You’re okay! You’re okay!” Ed catches your body, as your start to fall from the drawer to the floor. You sit on the floor and cling to him, sobbing. At first awkward, he runs his hand along your back, trying to sooth you with the repetitive motion.
“I felt like I was dead- like- like I was gonna get buried alive-“ You gasp for air, sobbing between your words. Ed shushes you.
“We’re okay. They’re gone.” He promises.
You hear fast approaching footsteps. Your brain is moving too fast to decide if the footsteps are familiar or not. You just bury yourself further into Ed’s chest.
“Detective Gordon is here.” He informs you and you relax only slightly.
“Nygma, are they okay?” Jim asks.
“No mortal wounds, they’re just a bit shaken up.” He lets him know.
“You two should probably still get checked out. I need to finish scanning the building for everyone else. So far we’ve got 9 cops dead in the bullpen and… and the commissioner is dead.” He says. It’s almost like you hear Jim, but you don’t. Your mind can’t keep up with anything that’s happening.
After a while you find yourself sitting, waiting for Lee to check you out. Ed had been pulled away for a few minutes to do his job. He didn’t want to leave you, but you assured him you were fine. You didn’t feel fine, but you knew they needed him. As long as you could see him on the other side of the bullpen, you were reluctant, but okay with him stepping away. He left his jacket draped around your shoulders. It helped to be surround by his smell and warmth.
When it was time to go home, Ed guided you to his car. You hadn’t spoken much, but at least you’d finally stopped crying. The car ride was quiet. The only thing that filled the air was Ed’s occasional hum with the radio. Neither of you quite knew what to say. It was a bit ironic considering usually nobody could ever get you two to shut up. You didn’t speak up until he turned onto your street.
“I don’t want to go home.” You said quietly, feeling the panic rise again at the thought of being alone at home again.
“That’s understandable. Would you like to stay at my place?” He asks. You nod, silently. He flicks his turn signal and starts the drive to his place.
“Welcome to Château Nygma.” He smiles, turning on the light. You still have his jacket wrapped around your shoulders. Despite the terror you’ve been through today, his smile is refreshing. You don’t question how he can stay so seemingly sane in times like these, but you’re just glad somebody is. You need that. Maybe you should have questioned it, but you didn’t. He has a nice apartment. It’s not too big. Why would it be for a man who lived by himself? It’s just the right size with cool windows and a comfortable setup.
“Do you want something to eat? I’m a good cook.” He smiles. You don’t know how he can continue to smile, but you’re glad. It starts to make you feel safer. It’s nice to be in a locked apartment with just you and Ed. It’s nice to be in a quiet, secluded place, but not feel alone. It’s far better than sitting on your bed, scared of any serial killers that could be hiding underneath the frame and jumping at any people you hear in the stairwell of your apartment, with an open case file sitting next to you, worried the killers you’re reading about could be onto you any second. Today was a very close call. Too close.
“If you’re not sure, that’s okay too.” He continues, noticing you’re deep in thought.
“Oh…uh yeah… I’m not sure what I want… It’s like my body needs things, but I’m just a little bit too overwhelmed to figure it out.” You look down, shyly.
“Do you want to just sit? I can put on some music?” He questions referencing the record player with his hands.
“That sounds okay. I think I can do that.” You nod. He puts on some quiet music, not too loud to overstimulate you and you make your way to the couch. He brings you a glass of water.
“I can imagine it might be hard for you to have an appetite given your increased levels of adrenaline today, but you should at least drink this.” You take the water from him and begin to sip it. You didn’t realize how nice cold water could feel. You drink it quickly, before setting the glass down.
“Thank you.”
Ed sits down and you gravitate towards him.
“How do you do it?” You ask.
“How do I do what?” He looks for clarification.
“Your job. There’s so much death everywhere.”
“I don’t know. I just sort of do. Honestly I think it’s fascinating…” He pauses, looking away from you. “Sorry. That probably sounds weird.”
“It does, but that’s okay. I like the fact that you’re different and you’re honest. It’s comforting. You’re a better man than all of those crooked cops walking around beating up women and mobsters alike.”
“You think so?” He asks.
“Yeah, I do.” You smile. This time it’s a real smile. Ed smiles too. It’s nice to know after everything he’s done for you to make you comfortable, you can say something to make him feel better.
“I’m sorry all of this has been so awful for you.” He says.
“I know we’re doing good and it’s important to do good in a world of so much bad, but sometimes I just wish nobody had to do it. I can’t even fathom what would make somebody what kill another person. Maybe out of necessity, but it scares me that people actually enjoy it.”
“Yeah.” Ed shifts uncomfortably. You think he must agree with you and that’s why he’s unconformable. You don’t know that he killed Officer Doherty for abusing Kristen just over a month ago.
The two of you talk for quite some time until you end up falling asleep next to him on the couch. He doesn’t mind when you fall into his lap. He lets you sleep, smiling down at you. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to wake you. He was afraid of breathing too deeply and shifting too much underneath you. He eventually falls asleep sitting up with you still in his lap.
Everything is peaceful until you shoot up screaming, in a cold sweat. You’ve had another nightmare. This time is different. You’re disoriented. You don’t know where you are. You feel hands touching you.
“(Y/N), it’s me! It’s Ed! You had another nightmare.” You look at his face to see him distraught, unsure of what to do. Your tossing and turning had woken him up. He was awake only seconds before you.
Your eyes begin to well with tears. “I just want it to stop. When will all of this stop?” You cry.
“When will what stop?” He asks.
“Everything! I just want to stop feeling like this. I want to stop being afraid. I should be used to the job by now.”
“Maybe you just need more time to get used to it! I know we talked about time management earlier. I can help you with your schedule.” He offers.
“I don’t want to manage my time. I just want it to freeze. I just wish time would freeze so I could just breathe and catch up!”
Ed looks at you defeated. He doesn’t know what to say. He likes riddles because riddles always have answers. He doesn’t know what to do when there’s a problem with no solution.
“I’m sorry.” He settles with saying. “Would a hug help?” He’s just grasping at anything he’s seen people do when trying to comfort other people with problems and no solutions.
“Yes.” You say quietly, burying your head in his chest. Despite being the one to offer the hug, he’s a little awkward at first. He eventually settles in.
“Is this helping?” He asks.
“Yes.” You tell him. Of course, Ed being who he is, even now he’s still looking for a solution. He doesn’t realize he may be the solution, or at least someone to help make the problem smaller. “You always help.” You add.
“I’m sure most of our coworkers would disagree.” He laughs.
“I never thanked you for earlier today.” You say quietly.
“It was nothing.” He smiles.
“No, Ed. Keeping me safe in a life or death situation isn’t nothing.”
“I’m sure anyone would have done it.” He argues.
“No, they wouldn’t have.” You tell him.
“I’ll always protect you.” He pulls you closer, shifting awkwardly underneath you. “You know… my apartment is always open if you want to sleep with me- I- I mean sleep with me in attendance- I- I mean sleep with each other- I- I mean near each other- you know! In case you have nightmares!”
“I might just have to take you up on that. This is the first night I’ve felt okay enough to be able to maybe go back to sleep afterwards.” You smile, trying not to laugh. You don’t want him to think you’re making fun of him. Truthfully you think he’s sweet and funny.
“You should go back to sleep and since I didn’t get to make you dinner I’ll be making you the best breakfast of your life tomorrow.” He beams.
“You better.” You snuggle into him. Ed is too awkward to suggest you go lay in his bed tonight and you’re too tired to care. You spend the rest of the night on the couch together. You can save the bed for tomorrow night. You know when you wake up in the morning you’ll be coming back. It was the most sleep you’ve gotten in weeks.
Ed wakes up before you and sneaks off the couch to start breakfast. He truthfully was a very good cook. His own sensory issues with food made him very particular about how it’s prepared. You wake up to the smell of something good in the oven. Ed is nowhere to be seen, but you hear him in the bathroom. He’s talking. You knew he often talked to himself, but he sounded like he was talking to someone else. Maybe he was on the phone. You were sure you were hearing one half of a conversation.
“I told you we could trust them. They like me for me. They think I’m a good man.”
