literature

Don't Leave Me (Riddler and Keeny!Crane)

Deviation Actions

Published: Dec 9, 2012

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Literature Text

    The hit stings, he can feel his lip split but his teeth seem to stay in place.
    “Little shit,” the mindless thug growls. The other two that hold Eddie for him chuckle stupidly, their huge hands bruising on his arms and wrists. “You can’t talk your way outta this one. We know what you got, and we want it.”
    He doesn’t even dignify the brute with a response. He just spits in the asshole’s face. That earns him another strike.
    “Little bastard!”
    He grins cockily at the moron. That enrages him further.
    “Don’t you grin at me you scrawny little bastard. I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast.”
    Eddie laughs. “You eat shit for breakfast?”
    The idiot actually snarls, grabs his hair and pulls him close. Eddie squirms, glaring now into dull, muddy brown eyes.
    “Think you’re so damn smart,” the brute snarls. Something glints in his hand and Eddie tries not to let his eyes widen as the knife comes into focus. The brute holds it close, too close, to his cheek.
    “Gonna cut up that pretty face, faggot.”
    “I’m surprised you even know which end to hold you lumbering moron.”
    The knife jerks back, the moron roars as he prepares to slash at his face—
    A hole opens up in the forearm. Blood flies as the brute howls with pain, clutching his ruined arm. As he drops Eddie takes the opportunity to kick him in the face. It crunches against his boot.
    “What the—” The men holding him aren’t stupid enough, they keep their hold as they whirl around to face the intruder.
    Dr Crane stands in the doorway, revolver still held aloft in a steady hand.
    “Who—”
    The man’s shout is cut short by the back of Eddie’s head colliding with his nose. Before the hands have even loosened he stamps, hard, on the booted instep, another sickening crunch that he more feels than hears.
    The other falls back immediately, Dr Crane’s warning shot hits the wall only a few inches from his head.
    “You coming, Scamp?” Crane asks coolly. Eddie grins.
    “Keep up, Old Man.”
    They run, it’s only a matter of time before the uninjured man regains his courage. The damn staircase in the abandoned warehouse proves a bit difficult for a man with a bad hip to negotiate too quickly and Eddie takes his gun while he hobbles down the stairs.
    “You got a ride?”
    “Edward’s outside.”
    “Excellent.”
    Almost home free, almost out. Eddie allows himself to relax just a little.
    And suddenly he’s shoved roughly to one side. There’s a shot and Dr Crane’s shoulder jerks back suddenly, blood springing from his arm. He staggers back, but there’s nowhere to stagger back onto, only empty air. Eddie grabs for him but he’s too far, too slow.
    They aren’t far up, but there are enough stairs between Crane and the bottom to matter. When he lands, face down on the concrete, he’s not moving.
    A man shouts from the landing above, he looks up to see the unscathed man, gun raised, leering down at him.
    “You son of a bitch,” Eddie growls, rage tunneling his vision and seeming almost to slow time. He takes the good time to aim before firing, just twice. The thug’s chest flares red, he drops with a strangled shout. Eddie instantly turns his attention back to the fallen doctor, dashing down the steps and falling to his knees beside the sprawled body.
    No, please no it’s all my fault you stupid old man
   Crane doesn’t respond when Eddie rolls him over, but he seems to be breathing. Eddie touches his face, fingers coming away red and slick.
    No please don’t die I need you
    “Get up,” he urges, a little hysterically. “Get up get up get up please!”
    Dr Crane stirs feebly.
    “You have to get up, wake up, get up Old Man,” he continues, not daring to shake him in case there’s more damage he can’t see. “Come on Old Man come on you have to, come on!”
    Dr Crane’s eyes open, almost hesitantly.
    “Scamp…?” He murmurs, “You shouldn’t—”
    Eddie nearly hits him, eyes stinging.
    “Shut up, Old Man—can you feel anything?”
    “Head…arm…Others…”
    “Do you feel broken?”
    Dr Crane screws up his eyes, in obvious pain that Eddie himself has caused.
    “nNo but it all hurts…”
    Eddie swallows thickly, bites his lip against tears. There’s no time for them.
    “Can you move?”
    Crane breathes a deep, shuddering breath.
    “Think so.”
    It takes a few minutes to help him to his feet, a slow and agonizing process that gives Eddie plenty of time to see what he’s done. It’s even slower going helping him hobble along toward the waiting van. A few times they have to stop completely while Crane gasps, trying to catch the breath that pain takes away. The van feels like a paradise in comparison.
    Dr Crane’s Riddler dashes immediately from the van to help.
    “Are they—”
    “Not coming.”
    Edward has to help lift Dr Crane into the back, asking no more questions, like a sensible human being, like a much better person than Eddie. As they drive off toward what Eddie assumes it Dr Crane’s hideout, Eddie snaps.
    “I’m so sorry,” he finally blurts out, cradling the injured man’s head in his lap, tears stinging his eyes, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I’m so sorry Old Man.”
    A long, elegant hand comes up to caress his face weakly.
    “Not your fault,” he murmurs.
    “Yes it is, I shouldn’t have—” He chokes, tears beginning to fall despite his best efforts.
    Dr Crane shushes him.
    “Hush. Not your fault.”
    Eddie sobs.
    “Please don’t leave me,” he whimpers, hating how pathetic he is, how demanding. “Please don’t leave me I need you Old Man.”
    “Hush,” he murmurs again. “I’ll be fine, Scamp.”
    “But—”
    The wandering hand finds one of his, guides it weakly to the older man’s chest.
    “Still beating.”