Chapter Text
Tuesday, 7:32 AM
Edward’s still numb from yesterday's stream. One thousand big ones! He’s a whole fucking grand richer. Obviously he's not going to buy a plane ticket tonight and run; it’s going to take about a day for him to actually be able to access the money. Fortunately, he's not on Daddy Bezo’s twitch or Mommy Suizen’s Youtube so he gets to keep all of Benni’s money. A whole fucking grand to actually do good in the world? Edward's brain is reeling. The old cunt’s window is not going to cost a grand to fix, so he has some leftover dough. How the fuck is he supposed to spend it? Obviously he could keep it. Lie and say it was a swanky window and have money left over to spend. But his donation box says “Pay to have something actually done.” and Riddler isn't a hypocrite. He's a freak but he's honest.
Christ, only 24 hours ago his life was a lot simpler: The Bruce Fucking Wayne project, whatever the hell Alfred was on about, now Benni. Edward wanted a smoke. He doesn't know what to make about any of this so he won't make anything out. His trip to work is about enjoying the miserable, freezing, polluted outdoors of Gotham. He can deal with this shit later. He nearly takes the train to his office by habit. He's not going there today or for the next while to avoid uncomfortable car rides. He takes the train to the park. To the Bruce Fucking Wayne Tower.
It’s so god damn depressing in there. At least Alfred is also there. The silver fox is nice to Edward. He likes people who are nice to him as Edward. As the Riddler he doesn’t give a shit but little Edward has to actually deal with people and deal with their opinions about him.
It takes a while to actually get there. The subway is crammed full to the brim of men in cuck wage suits on the way to their nice office job across from the park. Edward doesn’t like being touched by this many strangers, by most people. At least they aren’t looking at him. Edward minds being looked at more than he minds being touched. He hates owning a flesh body. God, if he could just upload his brain to the internet and be Riddler forever that would be nice. Take him away from all his fucking problems.
But now even that won’t even work because of Benni. Who the fuck is that asshole? Who the fuck can just drop 1k on a dude a few hours into meeting them? The whole stream was a disaster after that point. Everyone was yelling because that's a shit ton of money to throw around. Benni just logged off and after a while Riddler took after his example and did the same. You don’t have to deal with online shit; you can just log off. Just walk away from your screen, just close your eyes. But then he’s Edward again and has to deal with all of his shit about Bruce Fucking Wayne. He just said he isn’t going to deal with this crap on his commute! Edward puts his hands in his hair and fucking screams as loud as he can on the subway. His vision is blurry for his effort. Immediately no one is touching him but now everyone is looking at him. Jesus fucking christ, when will it stop.
Tuesday, 8:59 AM
When Edward gets to the tower his phone is ringing. It’s from his boss. He wants to let it go to voicemail but he knows he should pick it up. He has so much shit on his plate but if he doesn't deal with this now his boss will add more shit to his plate by existing at Edward.
“Where the hell are you?! If you’re sick, stop being sick and get here. You can continue to be sick after this project calms down.”
“I’m outside of Bruce Wayne’s place.”
“What?! Why?!”
“Because we have to go there anyway and it's too much trouble to carpool.”
“Mr. Nygma, we can’t have you blowing this project by being weird. I’m not saying this to be cruel; we both know you are weird as fuck. It’s just a fact. You should not be alone there. You are a great worker but can’t handle clients for shit.” His boss groans loudly. “We are supposed to have a meeting - that you won't even pay attention to - so we can go over what we are doing and have a good game plan for how to tackle this project. We can’t be having rouge elements on something this important. Do you understand?”
So fucking annoying. “I’m not a rogue element. It just seems easier.”
“Just wait outside until we get there.” Edward doesn’t. He goes for a walk around the park. Not because he respects his job enough to wait outside but because it’s a nice park. Edward should try and come here more but it’s so out of the way for him. It's the perfect space to unpack all of this shit he's been dealing with. He starts with the easiest. Benni.
Who the fuck just does that? Some rich guy, that's who. Riddler thinks about Benni’s answer to the password. Maybe he isn't a random of Gotham who is crushed under Lex Luthor's greed. Maybe he is just some trust fund dipshit whose mad that daddy can't buy away the big bad wolf. Poor nepotism baby! Oh no, Benni's struggles against a guy who can't displace him from his home are as valid as Riddler's poor person feelings. Benni has rich person feelings and needs the poors to comfort him. At least he dropped serious cash to buy his comfort. Riddler can use that money to actually fucking do something. Benni probably just sits in his penthouse imagining oppression for being rich. He could just walk away from it all and go be a hermit out in the wilderness but then how is he going to do whatever the fuck rich people do? And what's with that fucking user name? DarkBenni_KnightFactor? (It’s what a middle schooler would pick for one thing. The site Riddler streams on does allow name changes. There is no excuse.) The rich asshole named his online alius banifactor. The dude probably does this shit all the time!Whatever, it's not Riddler’s problem he attracted a paypig who wants a left bitch to degrade him. Now he can fix that old cunt’s window. She deserves it. When she found out poor Edward grew up in an orphanage and didn’t know how to cook she loaned him her cookbooks so he could teach himself. It’s nice to repay the favor. Riddler would fuck Elon to help her out.
He comes across an empty gazebo. Edward sits under it. He can still see the Bruce Fucking Wayne tower. Douchebag’s tower breaks up the skyline like it’s Dracula’s castle. With one of Edward’s current issues tackled he goes for the second. Bruce Fucking Wayne.
The guy is always all over the news. Always. Not personally, he rarely shows his face in public and Edward knows why now. The poor widdle asshole is shy! Edward doesn’t even dislike him for what happened to Edward’s childhood; which he will get to unpacking. He dislikes him because he is rich and because people fawn the earth he walks on. His shit stain coworkers are beside themselves for getting to work in his home. So close to the legend himself! They act like being under the same roof is a blessing. Edward has never understood celebrity worship. He doesn’t get it for celebrities who actually work for their fame; who cares if someone is a good actor or a good sportball player? Everyone shits and dies. Being famous for your job doesn’t mean anything. Edward could never understand celebrity worship for people famous for being rich. The love the people have for their oligarchy amazes Edward sometimes. They wonder about and praise rich people for just being rich and doing so seems to make them happy. It makes absolutely no sense. Edward wants to outright hate Bruce Fucking Wayne; but Alfred likes him and Edward likes Alfred. Edward adjusts his feelings towards Bruce Fucking Wayne from complicated to mild contempt. In pencil so he can change it later if he choses, simply for the old guy’s sake.
Edward checks the time on his phone. He should make his way back to the tower so when his boss arrives it will look like he sat outside the entire time. Now he has to think about how he feels about what Alfred revealed to him yesterday.
Where to even start with this one? Edward doesn’t know. He wants to grab the nearest person and demand they tell him. It’s a complicated question. Riddler’s forte, but this is Edward’s baggage. What did Alfred mean by long battles? Who or what the hell was he fighting? Alfread mentioned that they, he and Bruce, only gained full access back to Bruce’s wealth when he turned 18. It’s probably to do with Thomas Wayne’s will. Was there a powerplay to strip Bruce of all of his inheritance? Oh, if the public found out there would have been riots in the street. When Bruce was orphaned everyone was so sad that an eight year old could be left without a mother and father. The public genuinely cared that poor Bruce Fucking Wayne was left alone in this cruel world. It stood in sharp opposition to the fake care they gave Edward and the other orphans Thomas had promised to sponsor. At the time it felt like a slap to the face. He was eight and finally getting attention. Then Bruce’s parents died and it was swept out from under him like a rug. Edward is an adult now and understands that the public attention would have faded but at the time he didn’t understand that people only cared to make themselves feel better. Most people only perform charity to gain personal satisfaction. Thomas only did it to buy his shy little boy some friends. That's the thing that makes this whole situation a mess.
Edward doesn’t know if he has the energy to be mad. What Thomas wanted to do was selfish, but he could be selfish all he wanted if it meant that Edward could have his own room and actually own things. Edward didn’t have a single thing that was his until he burned the orphanage down. He was an angry teen and had to take the frustration somehow. Nobody ended up dying from the fire. Edward is positive that if someone did he would have become a much more unhinged person. Edward is just an acceptable amount of unhinged now. But, maybe he could have been a lot less unhinged if he actually had enough to own things as a child. Maybe not. Not all of his problems are from a shit childhood. He would have had a personality disorder even if his parents loved him enough to keep him. But if Thomas and Elizabeth Wayne weren't killed in some alley by some random mugger then Edward would have less baggage. Thomas wouldn’t have even done it for Edward. It was all for Brucey to help him deal with his childhood baggage.
Should he be mad that his own happiness was going to be a byproduct of Bruce Fucking Waynes happiness? Edward sighs; looks up at the Wayne tower. He's not. He can't bring himself to be. Just because it was all for Bruce it doesn’t negate how much of a positive impact it would have been in Edwards life. It makes him think less of Thomas but the bitch is dead. Who cares?
He arrives at the tower with enough time to lean against the building when his shit stain coworkers show up. Perfect timing. Everyone enters while Edward gets a dressing down from his boss for going against the flow. Any other day he would be pissed off because he picked up the phone an hour ago to avoid this exact thing… but not today. All of the fight has bleed out of Edward. He's just tired and wants to go home.
Tuesday, 12:28 PM
Once again everyone leaves for lunch, leaving Edward with Alfred. They chat pleasantly while Alfred finishes making lunch, leaves when it's done to give Bruce his plate, and returns with Bruce's empty plate from breakfast.
“Does he always do that?”
“I’m sorry, lad, does who always do what?”
“Does he always eat away from you? Bruce Wayne?”
They both pick up their food and move to the study. Alfred shakes his head sadly. It’s bright and sunny here from the open windows but it doesn't have a view of the park. The sitting room doesn't either (even though Edward wouldn’t be able to see it there anyways. Curtains.) Both just have sad, depressing views of the sad, depressing skyline of Gotham. What’s the fucking point of having an opulant building across from the park if you can’t even see it? “No, usually we eat together in the sitting room. Elizabeth would die a second death if she found out we no longer have a dining room. Where we are now used to be the dining room but pigs will fly before Bruce hosts a dinner party.” Alfred sighs. He does that a lot while talking about Bruce. Alfred did raise him from a boy into manhood. It makes sense he feels personally about Bruce’s shyness. “He's on edge about having guests in the home. I’m staying down here to be a good host and I hope that Bruce will come around to doing the same. It's not polite to make a guest have to travel to find you.”
“I guess he doesn’t care about what's polite.”
“He does but he forgets all of it the second he meets someone.” Alfred turns and looks out the window. “Enough gossip about the young master, how is the project going?”
Tuesday, 7:32 PM
Edward is tired when he gets home. He just gets out of his work suit and lays face down, naked in his bed. Everything is a mess. Edward feels like a mess and his coworkers are not helping. Like he explained to Alfred at lunch; Bruce Waynes accounts are a fucking mess. All of his coworkers are stressed out about it and it's rubbed off on Edward. The team that was last in charge of Bruce’s accounts was skimming off money from him, millions at a time. They were doing just what the fuck ever to the books to hide the evidence, which means that now his accounts were an absolute mess that Edward and his coworkers have to deal with.
Edward checks his phone, sets his alarm, and then goes the fuck to bed. He doesn’t have the energy to be Riddler tonight.
Wednesday, 8:46AM.
Getting here was a lot easier than it was last time. Edward thinks everyone remembers he's the guy who screams on the train because he is given plenty of room. Edward lets himself into the tower and travels up the elevator. The door ding and slide open and there is Alfred and Bruce Fucking Wanye himself at the end of the hall. Whatever conversation they were having abruptly ends as they look at him. Alfred looks surprised but nonetheless pleased to see him. Bruce Fucking Wayne looks like everyone on the train yesterday when Edward screamed. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Alfred tsks at him, smacking him on the arm lightly. “He is a guest in your home and he is supposed to be here! You’re too baby to actually manage your own accounts so the compromise is hosting strangers.” Or the guy can be less ‘noid and let Ed work in his office. He doesn’t comment because it's funny to see Alfred scold him like he's a bratty child. Bruce Fucking Wayne could buy some countries if it pleased him.“ Welcome him in.”
Bruce Fucking Wayne hunches into his Nirvana shirt and mubbles out a welcome like it’s physically painful to talk to strangers before he turns and bolts up the stairs. Alfred sighs loudly, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “That boy.” He says to himself before regaining his composure and walking down the hall to greet Edward. “I apologize for his behavior. Let me make it up to you by putting on a pot of coffee.”
Edward takes off his shoes, throws them in the closet, and follows Alfred into the kitchen. “I ask you not to think badly of him for his manners.” He pours coffee into the two cups waiting on the counter. It’s from a normal Coffee-Mate machine instead of a fuck off expensive expresso machine. That’s no fun. What's the point in being that rich if you don’t have bougie morning coffee? “You simply surprised him. We weren't expecting you this early but you are very much welcome here, lad.” Edward nods, sipping on his coffee.
Way, way too much cream and sugar. Edward makes a face about it. Alfred looks at the cup and then makes a surprised face. “Oh, I’m so sorry. That’s Bruce's cup. It’s early; I let my mind slip past me. Let me dump it out and get you a fresh one.” Edward hands it over and gets a new cup handed to him. Alfred gets another cup out of the cabinet and starts making a fresh cup with way, way too much cream and sugar for Bruce. That explains the middle class coffee.
“I don’t think he's rude.”
Alfred smiles wide at Edward. “I’m glad. He scares off the very rare guests who come in here by being like this.” Then leaves to give Bruce his coffee. Edward is once again alone in the kitchen like he was the two days before. So thats Bruce Fucking Wayne. He's greasy from not showering. His shirt has holes in it and a stretched out collar. His sweatpants have stains on it. He's pale and pasty. He looks like dog shit. He’s absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Edward finishes his cup of coffee and looks at his phone. There is a text from his boss.
“Where are you?”
“At the tower.”
“Fine. Let yourself in and get to work. Don’t make Mr. Wayne uncomfortable. We will be there in an hour.”
Too late.
Edward moves to the sitting room and gets to work. In an hour thirty when his coworkers show up and after even more chatting they all eventually settle into work. Nothing particularly exciting happens until just after noon when the shit stains decide it’s time for lunch. Everyone is stressed out from unraveling the books that Edward doesn’t even think about it when they forget him. The past two days they shoot him questions about this and that but it’s through emails. No one even notices when he gets up to use the bathroom.
The only time he’s acknowledged is when Alfred stepped in to give them all tea. It’s after his coworkers leave for lunch. He looks disappointed that he is going to have to dump out 6 cups. Alfred sighs and tells Edward that lunch will be ready in about 30 minutes. Edward sets an alarm and then keeps at his work until it goes off. When it does he closes his laptop and stretches. He puts the thing down on the coffee table and notices the book left there. That wasn’t there yesterday. Someone is reading in his chair after he leaves. Fortunately for Detective Edward there are only two suspects. Whatever. He makes his way to the kitchen and there is Alfred like always and Bruce Fucking Wayne.
It shouldn’t feel weird to see Bruce in his own home. He lives here. Obviously this is where a person would find Bruce Fucking Wayne. He's leaning against the counter in the same shit he was wearing earlier; but this time he's showered. Up close Edward can see how big his arms are from how they are folded over himself protectively. The guy works out. It’s the only part of Bruce Edward can make out because the guy is hunched over himself like he's trying to create a black hole to disappear into. Edward stares at him to increase his discomfort. It works.
“Is Alfread forcing you to be social?”
“Yes.”
Alfred has his back turned to them. He's finishing up the sandwiches he's making. “It’s for your own good, Bruce. It’s not healthy for me to be the only person you talk to.”
Bruce hunches into himself further. Edward didn’t think it was possible. “I talk to plenty of people.”
“Online doesn’t count.”
“Why not?” Edward asks. If he had it his way he would also only talk to people as the Riddler. He doesn’t like talking to people as Edward.
Alfred turns his head sharply at Edward. It startles him. “Don’t encourage him.” He scolds. “He is the head of the Wayne estate. He needs to be able to talk to strangers without freaking out.” Alfred turns around to address Bruce. “Now ask him how your accounts are doing.”
Bruce looks like he wants to die. He closes his eyes and asks “How are my accounts doing?”
“Bad.”
Bruce looks like he wants to shrivel up and die now. “How bad?” Alfred gives both of them their plates. Bruce puts his to the side, uninterested.
“Really bad. It’s hard to actually work out what is right in your books because someone was moving numbers around to hide the fact they were stealing from you. We are probably going to have to start from the ground up on this.”
Bruce opens his eyes for that one. “What?” He straightens up a little; which jesus christ, he's really attractive. “What do you mean by that?”
“You really have no clue?” Edward laughs, “It’s obvious once you actually look at it. How much money did you make last year.”
He bristles at being laughed at. “I don't know, same as always.”
“You made an extra 14 million. All of which was moved around and then taken. How do you not notice 14 million dollars missing.”
“I don’t… I don’t actually like to look at that kind of stuff. How on earth could they even do that? Not morally but physically? How did you even figure it out?”
“That's the least of your problems. Let me show you.” Edward walks to the sitting room to grab his laptop. He brings it back to the kitchen and starts showing Bruce all the problems his firm has found in the last few days alone. “How did you not notice any of this?” Edward can't hide his amusement at Bruce’s discomfort. “Isn’t this why you fired the last firm?”
“I didn’t fir-” Bruce shoots back defensively before regaining himself. “I didn’t fire them, they quit.”
“That makes absolutely no sense. You made them a lot of money from your ignorance and unwillingness.”
The angry look Bruce gives him is priceless. Edward will cherish it until the day he dies. That day might be soon from the way he is speaking to Bruce Fucking Wayne; because when his boss finds out he will personally kill Edward. His boss has been telling him for the last three days to avoid this exact situation. He shouldn’t goad him. He shouldn’t even be speaking to him. Alfred left them alone around over an hour ago, a happy smile on his face that Bruce was actually talking to people, and now it's just the two of them. If his boss finds out he is going to freak out, this is the guy's worst nightmare. It’s Edward's dream. It’s so funny to actually bully a billionaire to his face for being bad at being a billionaire. And this billionaire is really hot. It’s funny to bully hot men, too. It makes what Edward is doing double funny.
They stand in the kitchen arguing about how bad Bruce is at his only job until the elevator dings. Bruce shoots up and covers Edwards mouth to stop him from making any more noise. The fucking touching! He has a thing about being touched! Still, Edward also doesn't want to be discovered chatting it up with Bruce. He shoots his hand away as fast as it comes up. Bruce might also have a thing about touching. They listen as Edwards coworkers chat and gossip their way back into the sitting room, closing the door behind them.
“Follow me.” Bruce instructs and then walks out into the hallway and up the stairs. Their lunch sits untouched and forgotten in the kitchen as Edward trails after him.
Wednesday, 1:47 PM
Looming in front of him, the stairs tell Edward that if he goes up them he is crossing a boundary and he can’t control what is going to happen on the other side. Bruce Fucking Wayne is up there, inviting Edward into his space. His lair because everything about Bruce screams vampire. Edward looks back down the hallway to the sitting room. He could go back there. He could tell his boss that Bruce wants to look over the project personally and his boss can do this. Edward doesn’t have to travel up these stairs alone into Bruce’s lair. Down the hall is Edwards normal life and up the stairs is… Edward doesn’t know.
He goes up. The Riddler loves a mystery.
Upstairs is more of the same decoration. The flight of stairs continues up into further reaches of the tower. Lord knows what's up there. Here is what Edward assumes is a living area. Around there are doors leading off to whatever a rich guy could want in his park view luxury tower. Bruce sits on a couch just in front of the stairs waiting for Edward. He looks uncomfortable as always but he doesn’t look like he is going to spontaneously combust from being near Edward, so that's something. W’s in the chat for Alfred. Bruce is unfairly handsome and looking at Edward. He wishes he had his mask; that he could be The Riddler.
“Is every room in your manor this dark?”
Now Bruce looks like he wants to combust. L’s in the chat for Alfred. It’s actually a good look on him even though it hides all his muscle tone. Edward likes how he folds in on himself like he wants to disappear. His hands fidget slightly in his lap. It shouldn’t, wouldn’t, be attractive to most people but Edward, as previously established, is a freak. He figured out he likes to degrade men when he was a teen. Does it have something to do with him getting bullied as some kind of freuadian sexual responce? Maybe. Should he be bullying his client that under no circumstances should be made uncomfortable? Absolutely not. If his boss was here his fucking brain would explode after he got done beating Edward to death with a rock.
“I own lamps.”
“There is also free light outside. It got invented a while ago, actually. Not that you need it, guy who can casually lose 14 million dollars.”
“I feel like people are watching me when the windows are open.”
That's… actually fair. For a normal peon like Edward that would be an irrational delusion. For Bruce that's actually something he would have to worry about. There are lots of tabloids that would set up cameras aimed at his windows for the chance to catch something scandalous. He's the revered Prince of Gotham. A nude or a glimpse of Bruce with a lover would be on the front page of shit magazines sold in grocery stores. Edward should bring himself to feel more empathy but he doesn’t. He will only go so far as understanding why he has the hang up. Fuck this dudes rich person problems.
Edward walks over to Bruce on the couch. He sets up his laptop so they can continue to go over Bruce’s accounts. As he does he gets in one last jab at the man. “Just say you are a vampire.” It makes Bruce laugh which surprises them both. It sounds terrible and ugly and is unflattering and it makes Edward actually start to like him.
Edward gets to work, explaining to Bruce what he is doing as he does it. Bruce relaxes a little, just letting himself see the patterns in the numbers. Edward starts with stuff he thinks would be easy for the guy to grasp but Bruce picks up on everything Edward is doing quickly. He asks the right questions and makes the right comments about what they are doing. This is a lot easier than most clients Edward has worked with. Granted he hasn’t worked with a lot of clients but how those clients act makes Edward less inclined to work hands on with them. Clients get weird about seeing other people see their spending habits. They get weird about Edward making comments about their spending habits. They get weird about being told how to correct their spending habits. It’s annoying because they hired Edward to do all of these things and then they get ancy and defensive about him doing his job. It makes Edward, already a social freak, act even more aggressive. He doesn’t want to hold rich people's hand and tell them it's okay that they are bad at winning capitalism. Bruce, however, doesn't want any hand holding. He’s comfortable with hearing about all the places he's bleeding money. It’s nice for Edward to actually be able to do his job without trying to baby a client.
“This?” Bruce points to the screen, careful to not let his finger actually touch it. “What’s this number about?” The number is, surprisingly for this project, an actually a correctly reported gain from the soup kitchen Bruce built near Edward’s apartment.
“It’s the profit from your new restaurant. You converted it from a soup kitchen.”
“I didn’t convert that soup kitchen. I don’t know who did it. I…” Bruce leans back into the couch. He looks distressed. His hand comes up to fuck with his bangs. Nervous tic. He closes his eyes and the misery coming off of him is immense. It flips a switch in Edwards brain from relaxed to pissed off. Why is he misrable when people went hungry for his incompetence? “Everything I try to do for this city gets undermined at every turn. I don’t know how my father managed to do any of this.”
“Oh, poor you. It’s so hard to be rich.” Edward definitely shouldn’t have said that. He couldn’t help it coming out of his mouth. Bruce’s pity party is annoying when Edward has to eat ramen for dinner to afford new shoes but the whole reason his job exists is because rich people find it hard to be rich. He gets to be a wage cuck because of people like Bruce who can’t even keep their own books because they simply own too much money.
“I know I sound like a spoiled brat. Having a fit because I can’t even be a billionaire correctly. It’s hard when every time I try something good someone takes it from me.”
It pisses Edward off more. Why the fuck does this guy think he is Jesus on the cross because hes too fucking useless to keep up with public outreach? “Do you want me to coddle you for not being able to keep your name on vanity projects? I’m not going to. You dumb fuck rich people are all the same. You throw money at every problem like it will fix it and then fuck off immideatly after to leave the tired stressed out peasants to deal with your messes. So what if you didn’t actually sell off this one fucking soup kitchen. You could have actually left your dumb shit ivory tower and volunteered there. Figured out it was closed down yourself. Or even just fucking talked to the people actually running it! You know, the people actually doing the heavy lifting? I don’t give a shit that your accounts stress you out, you are useless because you essentially just throw money off your balcony and let your imagination tell you that you are making a difference. Money might make things easier but if you don’t actually pay attention to what it's doing then you are just spending money to make yourself feel better, not to help people.” Bruce is stunned. Rich boy has probably never been scolded like that. Edward doesn’t give a shit. He is absolutely fired but it felt good to actually fucking give him a peice of Edward’s mind.
“I…” Bruce looks down at his lap.
“Yeah, you. You are more than a rich asshole. You are the Prince of Gotham. You should actually fucking talk to the people of this city. You don’t even live here. You live in your stupid tower above us all.” Edward is going to lay more into Bruce but this is the moment Alfred chose to come up the stairs.
“Oh, did I interrupt something?” Alfred asks. He has two cups of tea.
Edward stands up. “Not at all. I was just leaving. I have actual things to do in this city.” and he storms past the old man. Edward is huffing and puffing the entire walk to the subways when he realizes he forgot his bag in his rage. He has his keys, wallet, phone. Whatever, he can get it in the morning when he clocks in.
Except he can't just clock in. Edward definitely doesn’t have a job anymore. Why would Bruce want to keep Edwards firm when Edward just laid into him about how his apathy makes him part of what's wrong with this city? Rich people don’t like to hear that. Rich people like to be told they are special and perfect and the only thing that can save the world from anarchy. This is what Edward’s boss told him explicitly not to do because now Bruce is going to beg Alfred to tell his shit stain coworkers that their services are not required anymore. When Edward walked down the stairs he essentially signed his resignation letter. And yet it felt good. It felt so fucking good to lay in Bruce even a fraction of his rage. He wanted to put his hands around the man's throat and choke him. Fussing with him was a good compromise.
Edward unlocks his phone and checks his bank. That grand Benni gave him is sitting there. Good. Edward will show that fucking prick Bruce what actual community outreach looks like.
Wednesday, 6:32 PM
The old cunt had invited Edward upstairs for dinner as thanks for the money. It turns out that she did have the money to replace the window. She didn’t have the money to get the security to stop robberies because she was afraid the same thing would happen again. She couldn’t spot one thousand dollars. When Edward gave her the envelope with the money she was in disbelief and refused but then started crying. This little store was the only thing putting her grandson through college. They talked and talked about both of their lives while she and Edward worked on cooking dinner. Occasionally a customer would come in and she would go downstairs to ring them up. Edward did not let himself think about Alfred while alone in the old cunt’s tiny box of an apartment.
The dinner was good, the company better, and it made Edward forget all about the shit with Bruce Fucking Wayne… kinda. He got over how mad he was but he's basking in feeling superior to Bruce. The douche isn’t helping little old ladies like this guy. Getting back to his own home he felt good as he took off his suit and put on his mask. He sets up the stream actually content with his life. He will figure out how he is going to make money tomorrow. Today he cut his strings from his dumb shit job. He starts the stream, leaving a starting soon and The Hives to keep his followers company while he waits for everyone to join. Riddler goes over to his shelf and picks out a crossword puzzle book to do.
He sits down and is planning to wait another minute or two until he actually starts but Benni is in his chat. “Did you help that old lady?”
Edward pulled his chair up. “Yeah, the old cunt started crying. You made an old lady cry, Benni.”
“I think you made an old nice lady cry.” Then Benni came back with a second message. “I’m glad. It’s nice to actually know someone is doing something for this city.”
“I’m not doing shit for the city. I just helped out an old lady. She made me dinner out of thanks. I tried to talk her out of it but she insisted. She said I’m too skinny, the old cunt.”
“You are too skinny.”
Riddlers mods started agreeing with Benni. The pricks! How dare they side with this rich asshole over him! They’re all getting in good goofs at Riddlers expense. “Stop talking about my meat suit, douchebags. I will ban all of you.” He got out between his laughs at their jokes. This is what being alive is about. Helping out old ladies and goofing with friends. Riddlers puzzle book sat forgotten as he yucked it up with the lads.
It's a good stream. Benni fits in nicely with the group. He's social and funny and he has the correct political beliefs. After reading out a practically witty message Benni wrote about how all the money in the universe couldn’t save Falcones hairline, Riddler brought up the question, “So, Benni, how did you end up with enough money to make an old lady cry.”
“There comes a point when you have so much money you can’t spend it fast enough.”
“Oh, poor little trust fund kid. Your pockets are so heavy. You can always let us lighten it up for you. I’m sure I could figure out a way to spend it, paypig.”
Riddler imagines the shock across Benni’s face when he replies, “I’m not a paypig!” but the whole chat is ribbing him for being Mr. Moneybags. His username is benefactor, he's a paypig even if it's not his fetish. Benni was fighting a losing fight trying to prove he's not into other people spending his money, he just likes to participate in community outreach. “I should have never rejoined this stream.”
That really gets Riddlers attention. “So you weren’t trying to buy attention? Just wanted to drop ten Benjamins and leave? You aren’t doing a good job convincing us you aren’t a finsub even if it's to help little old ladies. If you like community outreach so much then go volunteer somewhere.”
“I’m not a finsub! I just rejoined because today someone made me think about my personal brand of random acts of kindness. But volunteering is out of the question right now.That would require going outside. I’m actually a vampire in real life.”
Riddler laughs. “Oh, typical rich kid. A blood sucker. It’s a good thing you can’t go outside. We can’t have you volunteering at a blood bank.”
“Why don’t you volunteer then?”
“How do you know I don’t? I don’t as often as I would like to because I’m also a broke bitch who needs aid. But my Saturdays aren’t enough to save this city. This city needs more money. The assholes who run the place treat it like their piggy bank. Crime rates aren’t high because people aren't inside soup kitchens, they are high because no one can afford to live right now. There are no soup kitchens to volunteer at and no soup kitchens to feed the actual people running the city. So all us plebeians have to run around hurting each other because we can’t hurt the actual people doing this to us. And it’s not even about the large-scale stuff, anymore. It’s also small scale stuff that needs doing like needles in every park. The libraries don’t have heating. The destruction of homeless peoples only sleeping spaces.”
“You could fix that small scale stuff.”
“Not without money. I can barely afford to live by myself. We’re back at square one.”
Benni donates another grand. “What will this do?”
Holy shit. “You’re not doing a good job convincing everyone you’re not a paypig. You want me to explain how I'm going to spend it so you can jerk off later, don’t you? My liege I swear unto you that this will go to fixing the potholes around my block. One put the father of the family who lives below me in the hospital and now I'm pretty sure they are living in a shelter.”
“Can you find out if they are?”
“I can find out the answer to any question. I’m the fucking Riddler. Why do you want to know?”
“Because if they are, I want you to get that family somewhere nice to live. I think you should keep up the good work of making people cry.”
The rest of the stream is like this. Benni wants Riddler to snuff out ways to spend his money (“I’m not jerking off to this.”) to actually help people. He just feels guilty for being rich. He did absolutely no work for it, apparently. When Riddler asks why he doesn’t just donate all his wealth to various things and walk away from it all, his answer is “Because everything I try to do gets twisted and rotted. There isn’t anything that is nonprofit anymore.”
“You are going to have to keep showing up to streams if you keep donating. Join the group chat.”
When the stream ends Benni slides into his DMs. He wants actual updates about what Riddler is going to do. It turns out that he didn’t actually believe Riddler would help out the old cunt. He thought Riddler was going to buy a new computer to stream from.
“And you were cool with that?”
“No. I just stopped expecting people to be good. I was hesitant about rejoining your stream because I didn’t want to see you laughing at me for believing the old kind ladies story.”
“Then why do it anyways?”
“Because I’m selfish. I only do charity to make myself feel better about having money. If you had bought a better setup then you could reach more people.”
“I’m not going to save the universe with dumb shit leftest streams and I’m not going to save it with random acts of kindness.”
“But you save at least one person’s universe. It’s getting late. Good night.”
With that, Riddler takes off his mask and goes to sleep as Edward. He has a full day of saving the universe tomorrow.