This fic takes place before Hush, and chronicles the events leading up to the opening of Hush. Due to the nature of this fic, I have created separate files for the notes. These can be found under the same directory as the story. I recommend that the first set of notes at least be read before reading this fic. It will explain my reasons for adding my character, Query, to this fic, as well as why I chose to write this fic.

Thank you,
Query

~ ~ ~

He was almost on them now. Already he had managed to stop them from stealing the jewels they were after. It was all Query could do to keep Batman at bay, while the Riddler worked to open the door to escape. By this time, he should have bypassed the security system, opening the door. A sudden and blinding headache was keeping him from concentrating and seeing exactly what he was doing. Each time he attempted to work the keypad, he hit the wrong sequence of keys.

The fight had to end. He had to get out, and Query was the only one who could help him. Holding his cane like a gun, he poured his concentration into aiming at the vigilante. Shouting for her to get down, an action he knew the Dark Knight would follow as well, he prepared to fire. She faked to her right, and dove to her left, leaving Batman a target. The Riddler fired, sending a small bola at Batman. Though it was slightly off-target, it still managed to wrap around the man's arm and neck. It was all the Riddler needed, and he remote activated the electrical charge contained in the small, marble-sized balls.

"Open the door," he ordered, stepping aside for Query to work.

"You don't look so good, Eddie," she said as she entered the combination he gave her.

"Just open the damn door!" he grumbled, attempting now to keep his stomach from leaping out of his mouth.

In thirty seconds, they were out the door, and Query was pulling him along by the cuff of his jacket. Across the street, hidden in an alley, was the car. Query shoved the Riddler into the passenger seat and took off. There was no sign of Batman on their tail, and in the distance, she could hear the police sirens that would flood the area they had just left. She shot the Riddler a worried look, as he had taken up a fetal position on the passenger seat.

"Get me to the bathroom, Dee," he groaned the second they pulled into the garage.

There was no way he could hold back now as he emptied his stomach into the toilet, reducing himself swiftly to dry heaves. When he was through, he could barely stand. Dee helped him change and get to bed, giving him some Tylenol and leaving him to sip some mint tea.

The headache lasted two days. Most of the time he spent huddled in bed, in so much pain he could barely keep warm. Dee fed him small amounts of chicken broth, but found out that anything solid would come racing back up. He was only too happy when the headache was gone.

Over the following weeks, he had a series of minor headaches that he kept to himself. A Tylenol or four would get rid of them. Nothing to worry about, right? One night as he slept, however, the headache came back with such force that he couldn't help but wake Dee. She spent the rest of the night trying everything she could think of to comfort him.

Unlike the previous headache, this one didn't go away. It lessened, almost disappearing on some days, and was so powerful others, it rendered him incapacitated. Against his wishes, Dee had their doctor, Yi Min Zhuang, come to examine him. She prescribed some painkillers, asking Dee to let her know if the pain got worse. She also suggested running some tests, but Eddie refused.

Shortly after her first visit, Dr. Zhuang was back. Since her last visit, Eddie had had a seizure, losing control of his body functions. Dee was kind about the whole incident, simply cleaning him up, and helping him change into fresh clothes. He was embarrassed by it.

Eddie was having a hard time keeping anything down, including the painkiller Dr. Zhuang had prescribed. Instead, she offered up a more powerful, morphine-based injection. By now, Dee rarely left his side. When she would, she would leave Benny and Trigger, his hired help, to watch over him. In order to pay for the doctor visits, and the medicine, she had returned to taking jobs with her Triad.

"Eddie, darling," Dee began one morning as she let him rest his head in her lap, her fingers lightly stroking his temple. "I think it's time you took Dr. Zhuang's advice and had those tests run. This has gone on too long."

It was a ritual now. He grumbled, wanting nothing more than to sleep off the shot she had just given him. He wanted to yell at her, tell her to get out of the room and let him sleep in peace. But he couldn't bring himself to say the words. The headaches had made him weak as a kitten, and he depended on her for everything. Every morning she would sit in the same spot, doing the same thing, saying the same thing, in hopes he would listen to her.

Instead of answering, he nuzzled into her lap the way a child would. This was how he had learned to silently ask for comfort. She responded by putting her arms around him as best she could. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she cried quietly. Quaking, she was unable to hide the fact that she was in tears. For his sake, she had to be strong, and it just wasn't working.

"We'll go," he relented, whispering as loud as he dared.

She began covering his shoulder in kisses, and then taking his hand, she did the same to the back. He could feel the hot dampness of her tears as she cradled his hand to her face. Of course Dee knew that he had yielded for her sake and not his own. The foolish man!

"One condition: We leave Gotham."

"Of course. Of course. Don't worry about anything. I'll make all the plans. I'll get everything ready. Everything is going to be alright," she said, biting back a sob.

The pale, thin, sweaty man in her lap was not the same man who had swept her into his arms a few months ago. He was still in there, but this shadow that clung to her made her wonder if the other hadn't just been a dream. Ever since he became sick, time seemed to flow at a different rate.

Dee started humming tunelessly, rocking them both. Soon enough, he was sleeping soundly. The tense look on his face told her that he was still in pain. She would have done anything to ease that pain. Desperately she fought the urge to reach out for the vial of medicine and give him more. Dr. Zhuang had warned her that too much could prove fatal. Seeing him in pain was more acceptable than seeing him in a coffin.

Or was it?

Lying back against the pillows, she pressed his head to her breast. Her thoughts worried her. Death would bring an end to his pain, but would increase her own.

That's selfish. You want what's best for him, and you know it!

Was she willing to let him die, even if it was for the best? She wasn't certain.
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