Chapter Text
Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl. Each minute stretched out before him as Jonathan stared down at the phone in front of him. Two months. Or more precisely, two months, three days and twelve hours. A sliver of the year had passed, and Jonathan had not seen any sign of Edward for all that time. At first, he’d tried not to worry, after all, they both had work to do. But then he had missed a meeting with Jonathan and then a get-together with Oswald. And when his ‘helpers’ were questioned, it was revealed that Edward had not simply lost himself in his latest project. There were no elaborate plans, no last-minute bank robberies. Edward Nygma had disappeared from the face of the earth. And not a single rogue knew where he was. Jonathan had tried calling, listening to Edward’s stupid voicemail on repeat. He didn’t know how many minutes he wasted staring at his own phone in the hopes that Edward would just call him back. But nothing. He’d been prepared to give in to truly desperate measures when he received a call from Oswald claiming he knew Edward’s last known location. An alley on the outskirts of Gotham, too close to Joker’s bases for Oswald to risk going there himself.
While Jonathan had a healthy enough dislike for the clown. This was the first lead that anyone had managed to dig up. He had risked travelling through the city during the early evening. Keeping as low a profile as possible for someone who towered over the Gotham population. He found the alley with ease, but there was nothing. No clue, no message, just a dingy alley filled with overflowing garbage bins. A small growl slipped past his lips, and he stalked back out. He had spent the rest of the evening weaving his way between the various alleys, hoping to find something that would lead him to Edward. Hours passed, evening had slipped into night, and Jonathan knew he was pushing his luck. Soon, someone would spot him, and he couldn’t risk getting caught. He had taken a step further into the alley, planning to return to an old hideout of his for the night, when he felt something crack under his foot. A pang of annoyance ran through him, a broken bottle no doubt, but as he went to kick away the offending object he froze. There, barely visible in the low light of the Gotham night, was Edward’s phone. He snatched it up, shoving it into his pocket before making his way back to his current hideout.
This was how Jonathan ended up sitting lifelessly on their bed as he stared down at the offending object. Which was currently announcing that it was fully charged. A large crack ran across the screen from where he had stepped on it, but that was not what concerned Jonathan the most. On the screen and the back of the phone was blood. Parts of it had crumbled away, but the outline of a handprint was there, clear as day. He knew he should turn it on. After all, he’d gone through so much effort to find it. But the idea that he would find nothing on it filled him with a feeling he had long distanced himself from. Jonathan was sure that Edward would find amusement in the fact that he could make the god of fear afraid. He smugly grin at him as he said ‘I told you so’, and Jonathan wouldn’t even bother to deny it. He was afraid. Once more he had become the little boy cowering in the chapel as he prayed to a cruel god for safety. But for the first time, it was not his own safety he prayed for. This was the first lead, the only clue and if it was nothing. If Jonathan had reached another dead end, he’d be back where he started. With no way of knowing where the hell his partner had gone and if he was safe. He’d have no one to turn to; the other rogues would worry too much about themselves and Batman? Why would he rescue Edward? With Edward gone, there was one less rogue for him to keep an eye on. He wiped a hand down his face in annoyance, anxiety prickling at his skin. He was the Scarecrow for god's sake, he was above this.
Reaching out, Jonathan turned on the phone. For a moment, nothing happened before the bright LED display lit up. Revealing the small glitches that now blocked parts of the screen. But even with the damage it had sustained on its journey here, Jonathan was surprised to see that the phone still worked perfectly fine. And he entered the password with no issue. For a while, he stared at the home screen. What was he even looking for? What would Edward leave behind as a clue? He tried the camera roll first, hoping to see pictures of Edward’s actual last location. But all he found were images of his various mechanical projects, with the odd picture of himself or Jonathan mixed in between. The call history also left him nothing. Only missed calls from various rogues, the last call he had answered was a week before he’d disappeared. Did Edward even have time to call before he vanished? Had someone taken him by surprise? There was nothing in the search history, no codes, no riddles. There was nothing. He searched through every app he thought could have been of any help before he stumbled upon a voice note. Tucked away in a random folder on Edward's phone.
It wasn’t long, only a few minutes. But what was important about it was the date it was made. The note was marked as a week old. Which meant that if Edward was the one who made this, then he was alive. Out there somewhere. And Jonathan had missed his chance to see him. There had been no security cameras near the alley, there was no way to track who left the phone. This voice note was his only hope. And didn’t that just fill him with dread. The knowledge that his only clue was this recording. A recording that Edward had purposely hidden within the folders of his phone. If this was nothing- No he couldn’t let his mind go down that path. It had to be something, he refused to let it be anything else. Tapping play on the recording. Jonathan leaned back onto the bed, resting his head against the headboard as he waited for the audio to start.
The recording began with the sound of sharp, uneven breathing. As if someone was trying to breathe against a sharp pain in their chest. Every few seconds, there was the shuffling of clothing, accompanied by the sound of rusting chains. In the background was the repetitive sound of metal hitting metal. It was constant, the slide high and sharp despite the glitchy quality to the voice note. And if he listened close enough, Jonathan was almost certain that he could hear someone singing. They were terrible. Voice completely off pitch as they tried to sing along to what sounded like opera music. Whoever they were must have been belting out the sound to be heard from so far away. There was a hitch in the breathing, and then finally Edward spoke.
“I don’t know how long I have before that bastard comes back.”
His voice was low, but a raw hoarseness clung to each word. It sounded like Edward had screamed so much that his vocal cords had been damaged.
“I really don’t know why I’m recording this. I’m stuck in this fucking cage with no way out. I don’t even have any signal down here.” Edward drew in another shuddering breath, this one sounding much more panicked. “Maybe I’m deluding myself into believing that someone’s actually looking for me. What a laugh it would be if that damned bat rescued me for once.”
Edward paused for a few seconds, the silence allowing the off-pitch opera singing to drift back into focus. The song was slowly coming to an end. And Jonathan wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or afraid for Edward.
“I- Jonathan, if you find this, for whatever reason, I’m afraid I won’t be coming home any time soon. If I… even get to come home at all.” He sighed, pausing for just a moment before reluctantly carrying on. “ I should probably explain what’s happening. That is the smart thing to do and I am a genius after all… Whoever this is, this- monster. He’s turning people into puppets, living puppets that are void of emotions and flaws. He even told me they don’t feel pain.”
What would that be like? To not feel fear, pain, or happiness. Would you even feel human anymore? Would you even know you’re alive? He’d often dreamed of being in control of his own fears, but to lose everything else along with it. Jonathan felt the dread that had been following him since he found the phone in the alleyway grow worse. But it still wasn’t over, and so he continued to listen. Hoping that he could gain some sort of clue as to where Edward was being held.
“If he can’t fix their flaws, he discards them. Where to I don’t know, but I’ve seen him drag bandaged bodies up those stairs, and he does not return with them… He’s been trying to change me.”
There was a hitch in someone’s breathing, and it took Jonathan far too long to realise that it was his own. He clamped a hand over his mouth. Trying to ground himself as the voice note continued onwards, too easily for the weight of its contents.
“For some reason, he’s taking his time with me. Taking me apart piece by piece, before putting me back to together. Differently. I can’t see any changes but I know he’s done something to me. And I’m terrified that next time he comes for me I will not come back as myself. So please, too whoever finds this. If you find me as well- if you find the shell of who I once was. Please- please just kill me. Because I refuse to let that asshole control me. He cut himself off with a stuttering gasp, a small sob escaping from his throat “ Fuck, this shouldn’t be happening. I’m supposed to be smarter than this. I’m going to keep trying to get out of here. I refuse to give up. But I'm not going to give myself false hope”
With each passing second, the opera singing grew closer. Noisier. And Edward began to grow more and more panicked. Heavy footsteps echoed into the room. Blades scraping against one another as this mysterious enemy approached. Until suddenly the shrill whine of metal hinges cut through the audio. The sheer volume of the noise causing Jonathan to wince.
“No, no. Get away from me you freak. Don’t. No-“
Any further protest that Edward let out was cut off by the sound of a blood curdling squeal. Similar to that of a pig. It was a horrific sound that a shiver down his spine. And then the audio cut off. Leaving Jonathan in the silence of their bedroom.
He barely noticed the bile that had been pooling in his throat until he was coughing it up on the carpet beside him. Along with what little food he’d remembered to eat. The anxiety that had thrummed in him before had turned into something stronger, sharper. His hands were shaking, his breathing uneven. Jonathan hated to admit it, but he was terrified. Not for himself but for Edward. Just what had happened to him. In all their time together, he had never heard Edward sound so afraid. Not even when he was under the influence of fear toxin. Edward was stubborn, he bottled up his emotions, hid behind a mask of false indifference. He didn’t let his enemy know how he was truly feeling. For this man- no, this monster to force Edward to show his fear. He must have broken Edward in a way that Jonathan didn’t even know was possible.
And the worse part. If this voice note was made over a month ago. Then what had happened to him since then? If what Edward had said was true, then death would be his best option. But even now Jonathan refused to believe that Edward was gone. He couldn’t let go of what little hope this note brought him. Was that cruel of him? To wish that Edward had to suffer, just so he could see him alive once more. He didn’t care. All he knew was that he needed to get this note to someone who could give him answers. He’d take anyone at this point, even Batman. Jonathan was desperate, and he would make sure that whoever had dared to hurt Edward would suffer in a way that they couldn’t even begin to imagine.