Chapter Text
Bruce was already getting ready for patrol when his comm alerted him that someone was contacting his emergency frequency.
He had given the frequency to Selina specifically for emergencies, which meant she mostly used it when she was bored, for booty calls, and occasionally when she had managed to accidentally unearth some kind of city-wide conspiracy that was, in her words, far above her paygrade. Usually he only paid attention to the last kind.
He had the equivalent of a voicemail function built into most of his comms, which was largely for the purpose of recording communications for posterity; though Bruce sometimes used it to avoid phone conversations, which is what he was doing now. He let the line ring through, and then sighed to himself and pressed the button to listen back to whatever Selina wanted from him at half past midnight on a Thursday.
“Batsy, darling,” the message started, which was always a bad sign. “I know you’re there. And you know you owe me a favor.”
Bruce definitely did not owe Selina a favor. Unless you counted the whole saving-his-life-in-Arkham-City thing, but he was fairly certain he had made up for that one by now - he had gotten Selina out of a tight spot or two since then, much to her delight and his general inconvenience.
But, still. She was a useful ally, and - on occasion - a friend. He resigned himself to hearing her out.
“ - See, I was out prowling around town, by the docks, when - “
At this point a muffled, distorted scream - well, kind of; it was really closer to a yelp - cut through Selina’s message. Bruce, who had left the Batcave by now, decided to cut his losses and just started heading straight towards the docks.
Selina’s sigh crackled in his earpiece. “ - When I found our dear mutual friend Edward Nygma all… out of order down here. I suspect someone got him with some kind of leftover supply of that god-awful fear toxin.”
Bruce gritted his teeth. Even long lost to the Croc’s sewers, Scarecrow was still managing to cause him headaches. Bruce would almost be impressed at his tenacity if it, well. Wasn’t so headache-inducing. (Bruce had many of his own suspicions about Scarecrow’s status after the Arkham incident, anyway. He had heard far too many rumors to be able to ever truly believe Croc had put him out of commission for good.)
“And, well, Eddie is an… occasionally useful business partner of mine. And I know you love to come prepared,” Selina went on sweetly, “I’m sure you've developed a clever antitoxin by now. You wouldn’t mind hopping over here and sparing a little, would you?”
Bruce paused on a ledge to catch his breath, weighing his options. It’s not like the Riddler would die without an antitoxin, but it was also true that, for one, it would most likely not take that long at all to show up, stick him with an injection pen, and leave; and for another, he didn’t really want to risk Selina resenting him. And, though he truly doubted it would make a difference for him, Selina did have a point about Riddler’s use as an ally, even one borne purely from debt.
“ - I’m sure I can make it worth your while - “ Selina was saying, before being cut off by another pathetic noise that, now that Bruce thought about it, did sound a lot like the Riddler. “Yes, yes, Eddie. There, there. The big bad Bat will be here soon to help you. As I was saying,” she went on, a purr creeping into her voice, “I’m certain I can make your time up to you after this business is resolved - you know, I’ve been told I give very relaxing massages - “
Feeling mildly disoriented, Bruce turned the message off and continued on his way to the location he had traced its origin to.
The location in question turned out to be an abandoned warehouse (which in Gotham meant any number of things), split into two mostly empty halves by a layer of rickety scaffolding. Bruce crept into one of the upper windows with practiced ease, landing silently on a wooden beam.
He spotted them easily enough. Selina was leaning against a wall, examining her silver claws intently. The Riddler, strangely, was tied to a chair, and slightly less strangely, he seemed to be fervently whispering something to himself.
Bruce realized that dropping out of the rafters unannounced might possibly not be his best option in this particular scenario when he was about a third of the way down. Just before his boots struck the ground, the Riddler’s head snapped up suddenly, and as Bruce’s cloak fell around him while he landed he was met with an impressively ear-piercing shriek.
“Don’t - don’t! Get a-away from - from - from me - ” the Riddler stammered before dissolving back into terrified incoherency.
“Well, look who it is,” said Selina, having pushed herself off the wall to saunter towards Bruce. “Our dashing savior.”
“Any injuries outside of the toxin?” asked Bruce unceremoniously, pulling an injection pen full of blue antitoxin out of his utility belt. He wasn’t sure exactly why it kept synthesizing blue. Tim was insistent that it was because it was opposite the color wheel from Scarecrow’s orange, and Bruce could never quite tell if he was serious or not.
“None on me, unless you count bruises,” Selina said, flexing her claws. “A few nicks on him, but nothing too serious. I don’t know what Crane puts in that cocktail of his, but when Eddie saw me he almost tried to scratch me out. Imagine that! Anyway, hence the… restraints.”
“Hm,” Bruce said, and stepped forward and took the whimpering Riddler’s chin in his hand to hold his head in place, pressing the injection pen into the side of his neck before he had time to start screaming again.
Bruce kept his hand where it was for a few moments afterwards to monitor the Riddler’s pulse while the antitoxin kicked in - he could very well turn on his Detective Vision and monitor it more accurately that way, but he wanted to use the time to discern if any of the cuts Selina had clawed into the Riddler’s face were deep enough to require further medical attention. None of them seemed like it, so he let the Riddler go and took a step back.
After a second, the Riddler sagged in his chair a little (as much as the restraints allowed, anyway - Selina had been very oddly thorough with them) and then snapped upright again, shaking his head and blinking rapidly as though to ward off sleep. When he was done doing that he looked up, and his face went through several wholly indiscernible emotions upon seeing the Batman and Catwoman looking back at him, before settling on characteristic outrage.
“I -” he started loudly, and then had to clear his throat, “I knew this day would come eventually! You two are conspiring against me, aren’t you! You knock me out with that despicable toxin, you bring me to - to - to wherever this is - “
“Eddie - “ Selina started, but the Riddler just bowled straight over her.
“ - I should have known this would happen! You two clearly have some kind of disgusting, misguided affection for each other - Ms. Kyle, really, you can pretend otherwise but I know you’ve always been in the Dark Knight’s pocket - or rather his utility belt - “
“Eddie! Really - “
“ - Well I won’t give you what you want - whatever that is - and you can be assured I’m telling the truth about that! Undoubtedly you’ve finally realized the value of my superior technological skillset, and if you really think you can intimidate me into sharing my irreplaceable abilities -
“Eddie, we - I don’t want - “
“- Not to mention so rudely interrupting my work! My designs have -”
“Oh, please,” snapped Selina. “Have you ever seen his designs, Batman? Most of them aren’t even physically possible. I don’t know why he wastes his time with those things - “
“- Altogether ruining my Friday night -”
“It’s Thursday,” Bruce said.
The Riddler blinked. “It is?”
“It’s past midnight. Yesterday night was Wednesday night.”
“It was?”
“Eddie,” Selina said, “you really should be thanking him, you know. And me. I hardly know what would’ve happened to you if I hadn’t found you.”
“The toxin would have taken a few hours to a day to wear off,” Bruce said. “The lasting side effects vary depending on the strain, but generally no longer than a week.”
Selina’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean he wouldn’t have died?”
“Not unless someone else got to him.”
“Oh,” Selina folded her arms, sounding vaguely disappointed. “Then what did I go to all of this effort for?”
“Wait,” said the Riddler faintly, “you… you thought you were saving my life?”
“Well I hardly want you dead,” said Selina pleasantly. “You’re far too useful. And far too much fun. How are the ropes feeling, by the way?”
“The ropes - “ the Riddler echoed, and then finally seemed to realize that he was, in fact, tied to a chair. “Hey! Untie me this minute! What’s the meaning of this?”
“Oh, you know,” Selina said, “Fun.”
For reasons Bruce really didn’t care to speculate on, the Riddler turned a bright shade of red. Selina laughed.
“According to Catwoman, you were violent while under the effects of the toxin,” Bruce said, folding his arms. “That’s not a side effect I’ve observed before. Who attacked you?”
“What makes you think I’d tell you?” the Riddler said a bit too hurriedly. “Just because you solved the last batch of riddles I put out for you - incredibly slowly, may I add - does not mean we’re all buddy-buddy now!”
Bruce frowned. The Riddler was trying to cover something. Either he didn’t remember what had happened to him, or he didn’t want Bruce to know who his enemies were. Who had attacked him? The too-obvious answer - Scarecrow himself - seemed paradoxical in its own right: if Scarecrow really was alive and operating again, it would make sense he wouldn’t want the Batman to know; but if he had attacked the Riddler, why would the Riddler cover for him? For that matter, why would he cover for anyone else? The Riddler wasn’t exactly well-liked amongst his fellow criminals, unless something had changed recently without Bruce realizing so. Somehow, he didn’t think that was very likely.
“Aw, Eddie,” said Selina sweetly, “you won’t even tell me?”
“Untie me and I might consider it, my dear,” the Riddler told her very pointedly.
Selina hummed theatrically, tapping her chin with one shining claw. “I don’t know, what do you think, Batman? Shall we cut him loose now, or shall we play with him a bit longer?”
Bruce, who had been considering a third possibility - that the Riddler remembered what happened and was not indebted to conceal it, just very embarrassed by whatever had passed - said absently, “He doesn’t pose a physical threat. It’s your call.”
“Ooh, hear that, Eddie?” Selina grinned, ignoring the Riddler’s sputtered objections that he didn’t need to pose a physical threat, he posed a mental threat, which was far more dangerous, and they would regret what they were doing to him, and sauntering around behind him, leaning her elbows on the back of his chair.
“What will you give me to let you go?” she purred into the Riddler’s ear.
“Twenty grand,” the Riddler said, with such little hesitation that Bruce got the immediate impression this kind of thing had happened to him before.
Selina laughed. “I don’t want your money, Eddie, not this time,” she said. “I want a favor.”
“What favor?”
“An owed one.”
“Oh,” said the Riddler. He seemed apprehensive. Bruce honestly could not blame him.
“C’mon,” Selina pressed, “It’s just one little I-O-U. Really, you owe twice as much to Batsy here for showing up with the antidote.”
The Riddler’s brow furrowed, his eyes flickering back and forth. He appeared to be in deep thought about something. Then, all of a sudden, his face smoothed out into strange, shocked dismay.
“Wait,” he started, looking up at Bruce, “I can’t - I - I can’t owe you - “
“You don’t owe me anything,” Bruce said, more out of knee-jerk instinct than anything. There was a kind of piquing desperation in the Riddler’s stare that made him shift in place uncomfortably. He wanted it to stop.
“No - no! Yes I - You don’t get it! I - “ the Riddler shook his head. Selina had begun to frown at him from her perch behind him. “I can’t - I do! I owe you now! I can’t owe you, you’re my enemy! You’re my - what will I do if I have a - a - a track - a trap - a puzzle to put you in and you call in your - your favor? Just let you go? I - I can’t do that!”
“Then don’t,” Bruce said flatly, but it unnerved him slightly to find that he understood perfectly well why the Riddler was upset. The Riddler had his intricate set of rules and above all else, he needed to play by them; even if his own rules included cheating others. But he could never cheat his own. If he felt he owed the Batman a debt - and he did - then so it would be. And it would ruin him until he had paid it back.
“You should have just left me alone,” the Riddler sighed miserably. “Both of you. I would have just sweated the compound out of my system eventually.”
Bruce opened his mouth to tell the Riddler that that wasn’t how the toxin functioned, but before he could say anything his alert system pinged with an emergency report. He turned away to check what it was.
“I have to go,” he said, before he was even done reading. Missing persons case. Someone’s kid.
“Wait!” The Riddler yelped. “Wait, you can’t leave!”
“Watch me,” Bruce said flatly, and pulled his grapple gun out of his belt.
“No, you can’t - look! Look, y-you just got a call for a case, right? You wouldn’t be this punctual unless it was something important, wouldn’t you? Like a - a - oh, not a murder, but - something you can’t waste time on, like a hostage - a kidnapping! Or - or someone who went missing! That’s it, isn’t it? A missing person? Aren’t I right, Dark Knight?”
Bruce sighed heavily. Sometimes he really wished Edward wasn’t quite so quick on the uptake.
“You know the first twenty-four hours - ”
“ - Are the most important time in a missing person case,” Bruce snaps. “You have thirty seconds to explain why you’re still wasting mine.”
“R-Really, Dark Knight, even your pitiful intellect cannot avoid the truth of this matter,” Edward continues, “You need my help! I - I will graciously lend you my expert mystery-solving mind, just this once, and in return I will not owe you anything. Not a single thing!”
Bruce had to take a second to process that. His gut-reaction, of course, was no, absolutely not, but...
But. Well. Edward was clever. Cleverer than him, sometimes. And if anything - anything - could increase his chances of finding that kid -
- But oh, it was stupid. It was dangerous. Edward could sell him out at any point, change his mind, find a better deal. And that would be on Bruce’s shoulders. So -
“Hang on,” Selina cut in, displeased. “You two aren’t just leaving me here, are you? I was just starting to have fun!”
“Well, some sacrifices simply have to be made, my dear,” the Riddler told her snidely.
Selina ignored him. “You know,” she started, “I could just tag along with you two - I’d love to see whatever comes out of this exchange of favors, and It’d be such an invigorating change of pace…”
“You will not interfere with this investigation,” Bruce snapped.
Selina mock-gasped dramatically. “Interfere! Why, handsome, what do you think of me? No, I’m just going to - “
“Excuse me,” the Riddler cut in. “It’s not that I mean to interrupt, except, well. I do. Will one of you maybe untie me, please?”
“Oh, Eddie,” Selina leaned down to sigh wistfully into his ear. “You used to be so much more fun.”
She had already sliced through the ties at his wrists before Bruce could fully process what that was supposed to mean, and the Riddler sprang up from the chair gratefully - well, as gratefully as he could while very nearly falling right over again, hissing and clutching regretfully at his leg joints.
He shook it off surprisingly quickly, though, and turned to Bruce with an unidentifiable expression on his face. “Well? Shall we go?” He said impatiently.
Bruce considered just grappling away and leaving both Selina and the Riddler there, and then thought about the mess that would inevitably get him into down the line, and tried to compare and contrast the two. Unsurprisingly, it only seemed to lead to a conclusion he wasn’t sure he liked the sound of.
He sighed. It was going to be a long night.