[A flash of metal floods him with terror-fueled adrenaline and he scoots backwards, jerking both his hands up in surrender.]
Wait -- [Unconsciously ducking his head.] Don't.
[Squeezing his eye shut, he dares to give his mind a moment to catch up with the vicious turn their exchange has taken, grasping for the right thing to tell an equally desperate man wielding a knife.]
You're right. [He says, finally, air rattling softly in his throat.] You and Ed are inseparable, two faces of the same coin, and I accept that. Yes, I'll admit it, perhaps I wasn't fully aware of the circumstances when I first had feelings for you - how could I be? But in spite of everything we have seen and we have been through, I'm still here. I am letting you stay in my home.
[With an edge in his voice:] I'm the only one who sees you and appreciates you for who you truly are, and you know it!
[His chest heaves, a muscle working in his jaw. He wills himself to keep his gaze locked on him, fighting to keep it from shifting, from seeking an out he seldom found in prison.]
I know I am guilty of many things. [He continues, softer.] I have hurt him. Both of you. And the truth is, I cannot promise that it'll never happen again. But right now, I do have a choice. And in light of Ed's... [his lashes flicker] trauma and obvious discomfort, I cannot... [He straightens up. Tries again.] ...I will not take advantage of him.
[A tic pulls at the corner of his mouth, his face screwing up before he's able to rein himself in and school his expression back into something only slightly more neutral.]
For years - years, Ed! - the question of what my life might have been like had you never met that airheaded honeypot and come home to me instead has eaten me alive! All I wanted was for someone to hold me like you held her, and to know what it was like to feel wanted.
[Beat.]
And then, for Sofia to humiliate me, and to watch you find something in Lee I clearly couldn't give you --
[A shudder runs through his lungs, cuts him off. His eye stings wet.]
...I don't even know what I was expecting, from anyone. [Riddler becomes a blurry smudge of colours in his vision.] I don't know why I bothered. But it doesn't matter; nothing I wanted matters if Ed wants nothing to do with it. If he cannot or does not consent to something we are doing with you at the helm, then what are we doing? After where I just came from, I don't need to tell you what that sounds like.
[His jaw aches. He tastes salt, but he resists wiping aside the tickly-wetness crawling down his face and holds his pose.]
I refuse to pit you against each other, more than you already are, over a kiss. I want you both on the same page; a full commitment. But unless Ed is seeking more than my friendship - which, clearly, he is not - then you and I are just going have to make room for disappointment.
[Slowly, he starts to lower his hands, his brow pinching.]
But I am still your friend -- [his voice cracks around the word] -- that doesn't change. And if you still care for me at all, then I am begging you, please: put the knife down.
[A beat passes, and he opens his arms just as slowly, feeling a sharp swooping in his belly as he holds them out, placing his faith in the idea that a hug is all that he's inviting.]
no subject
Wait -- [Unconsciously ducking his head.] Don't.
[Squeezing his eye shut, he dares to give his mind a moment to catch up with the vicious turn their exchange has taken, grasping for the right thing to tell an equally desperate man wielding a knife.]
You're right. [He says, finally, air rattling softly in his throat.] You and Ed are inseparable, two faces of the same coin, and I accept that. Yes, I'll admit it, perhaps I wasn't fully aware of the circumstances when I first had feelings for you - how could I be? But in spite of everything we have seen and we have been through, I'm still here. I am letting you stay in my home.
[With an edge in his voice:] I'm the only one who sees you and appreciates you for who you truly are, and you know it!
[His chest heaves, a muscle working in his jaw. He wills himself to keep his gaze locked on him, fighting to keep it from shifting, from seeking an out he seldom found in prison.]
I know I am guilty of many things. [He continues, softer.] I have hurt him. Both of you. And the truth is, I cannot promise that it'll never happen again. But right now, I do have a choice. And in light of Ed's... [his lashes flicker] trauma and obvious discomfort, I cannot... [He straightens up. Tries again.] ...I will not take advantage of him.
[A tic pulls at the corner of his mouth, his face screwing up before he's able to rein himself in and school his expression back into something only slightly more neutral.]
For years - years, Ed! - the question of what my life might have been like had you never met that airheaded honeypot and come home to me instead has eaten me alive! All I wanted was for someone to hold me like you held her, and to know what it was like to feel wanted.
[Beat.]
And then, for Sofia to humiliate me, and to watch you find something in Lee I clearly couldn't give you --
[A shudder runs through his lungs, cuts him off. His eye stings wet.]
...I don't even know what I was expecting, from anyone. [Riddler becomes a blurry smudge of colours in his vision.] I don't know why I bothered. But it doesn't matter; nothing I wanted matters if Ed wants nothing to do with it. If he cannot or does not consent to something we are doing with you at the helm, then what are we doing? After where I just came from, I don't need to tell you what that sounds like.
[His jaw aches. He tastes salt, but he resists wiping aside the tickly-wetness crawling down his face and holds his pose.]
I refuse to pit you against each other, more than you already are, over a kiss. I want you both on the same page; a full commitment. But unless Ed is seeking more than my friendship - which, clearly, he is not - then you and I are just going have to make room for disappointment.
[Slowly, he starts to lower his hands, his brow pinching.]
But I am still your friend -- [his voice cracks around the word] -- that doesn't change. And if you still care for me at all, then I am begging you, please: put the knife down.
[A beat passes, and he opens his arms just as slowly, feeling a sharp swooping in his belly as he holds them out, placing his faith in the idea that a hug is all that he's inviting.]