"I'm not taking my mind off this until her murderer has suffered." Isabella deserved that much. She deserved so much more. Her life and future taken from her like that, simply because someone dared to... Edward stared at Oswald, eyes brimming with tears, even though he held onto some kind of composure. Why would the voices not shut up about blaming Oswald for all this? His best friend.
"Are you certain? I don't want to push. I only want what's best for you." He smiled as reassuringly as he could, wishing he could do something about this mess to fix it. Fast. Perhaps he could come up with someone to frame for this. Tommy Bones? He never did like that worm anyway. If he could come up with a convincing enough lie, he might survive this melodrama with his sanity intact.
"We'll solve it. Together. I swear to you, I'll get justice for Isabell."
"Isabella." Why was that so hard? No wonder the correction came out with sharpness and even less of a surprise that Edward turned and walked a few steps into his room, bringing distance between them. Allowing for the voices to be all the louder once more. What could be the motivation?
"...you should really try to find someone you actually want to date as your plus one, Oswald."
"Right, right! God, I'm such an idiot. I'm so sorry, I will try to keep that in mind. I don't know why I always forget. Isabella. Got it." Who cared? Seriously. She was dead! Did they have to keep on doing this every time? He could call her Izzy if he wanted it was all entirely irrelevant now. Who cared about what the dead wanted to be called?
At the suggestion, Oswald almost flinched, taking a step back slightly, his cane dragging on the floor. "W-Why would I need anyone else when I have you?" What else could he say to that? Now was not the time for a love confession. One day soon, perhaps. "I don't really date."
"You hardly have me in that sense, Oswald. No offence." Could that really be it? Edward watched Oswald, wondering how good a liar he could be to him. He was still The Penguin. Why would he not be lying, if it served his purposes? But how would that be his purpose? The questions amassed and the voices were not helping. Not that they were ever very helpful.
That hit like a blow and he felt something ache inside of him. No, he didn't have Edward, not in that way. But he wanted him. More than anything, he loved him and he just wished that woman had never entered their lives and ruined what he could have so easily had. He wished that he could just tell Edward now, it was always on the tip of his tongue but it never came out. "No, of course not." There was an uneasiness to his expression, almost set in it's own frustration. "I simply meant in the sense that I have your company. And that's all I need."
"Right." He could see it now. Something. But it wasn't enough to go on, Edward couldn't trust himself so easily. He knew he wasn't entirely sane. Oswald was all he had left. His best friend, his only friend. Who had taught him so much and who understood him like no other. It couldn't just be true that this was the man who took what was most precious from him. "I understand. But I feel that our connection has become... different than expected."
That was not where he expected this to go. Oswald found himself staring at Edward for a moment as his brain caught up and as soon as it did, he moved in closer, his eyes wide as he looked at Edward. Dare he hope that this was different in a good way. In the way he'd been yearning for. "You have?" He smiled, faintly, unsure, closer now than he had been earlier. "In what way?"
"It's certainly not as it was to begin with, is it?" This was... interesting. Edward had gotten used to the reactions words could invoke in people, but discovering that he could do this to Oswald? He hadn't expected it, yet at the same time it felt like a horrible confirmation. "You must be feeling it too. Friend."
"You do? You -- really?" Oswald had no idea how to react to this but it was beyond all he ever hoped for and without thinking, for once in his life, all his carefulness and reservations just seemed to melt away in that moment. "I do. I have. This thing between us, it's not as it was. I would have said something myself but with all that unpleasantness, it seemed wrong." He moved in close enough to touch now, reaching out, brushing the fabric of his jacket. "Who am I to deny how I feel? About you. Only you."
That would be the motive then. Edward felt his face go blank, but he ignored how his heart sunk. How it hurt. He had to focus on what needed doing and his mind worked into several directions. Could he lead him on, perhaps entice a confession? Break his heart all the more thoroughly? Or should he distance himself and regroup, find a way to work out the ultimate revenge later?
His hands were on Oswald's shoulders before he'd entirely finished his line of thought, he felt his thumb graze Oswald's throat and that was what brought him back to the moment. He looked down at his friend and pushed him a few steps back, closer to his bed.
The finger near his throat, not really reassuring. Given Edward and his history of strangely lovers and all. He winced a little but felt himself shudder at the touch, feeling the warmth of the digit against his neck, the way it brushed so gently. He'd let Ed do anything to him, absolutely anything, if it meant he loved him back.
He stumbled at the shove, barely managing to brace himself, the cane thudding hard against the floor as he regrouped, unsure how to feel. He felt the bed against the back of his knees and he had no idea how to feel, he had so many questions.
"I don't know how to feel, I'm afraid. I'm not sure-- it's all so fast and I just -- how do you feel?" That was the important question. "Please, Ed, tell me."
Edward didn't give an answer. Instead he pushed him again, watching as he landed on the bed. He reached up, removing his tie, slowly pulling it free, his eyes never leaving Oswald's.
He was on top of him an instant later, easily pinning the man down with his weight and gathering his wrists in one hand. Compared to him, Oswald's not very physically imposing. He'd learned how easily he could overpower the man very soon after meeting him for real and right now Oswald was even cooperating to an extent, so it wasn't surprising that he managed to tie his wrists tightly together and connect then to the bed-frame without much of a hassle. He tugged at them sharply, to make sure he couldn't get loose. Not unless Edward wanted him to.
There was no confirmation, no words used but this was all a pretty big, positive signal, right? It had to be. Edward was a strange man sometimes, his heart didn't work in a conventional manner and perhaps words weren't what he wanted. A man could say a lot with gestures. And this was a hell of a gesture. A little kinky, sure, but since when was that out of the ordinary in Gotham? Oswald huffed out a small nervous laugh and adjusted himself, tugging at his hands.
Stuck tight above him... hmm, was that the nagging feeling of regret and doubt? Yes, yes it was. Finally, his brain kicked him in the pants and he realised he needed to act. Or speak, rather. "Edward? Edward, I really think we should talk before we go any further." Just to be clear that this was going somewhere good and not somewhere he should be panicking over.
Instead of replying, Edward moved his hand to cover Oswald's mouth. Not just symbolically, he really clamped down on it, making sure he'd not be able to say anything else. But he was just inches from him now, right above him, holding those treacherous eyes. "Do you think you love me, Oswald?"
Such a simple question and there was even a bit of a smile as he asked, his voice gentle enough. He reached over with his free hand, opening the bedside drawer. He couldn't make a mistake now.
This did not feel good, this had to be going somewhere bad and he was not ready for it, not prepared. Oswald breathed in and out in short breaths through his nose as he looked up at Edward, his face seemed calm, pleasant, even friendly but there was something off and it wasn't just the hand clamped very painfully over his mouth, finger nails plunging into his cheek. He swallowed hard and slowly nodded his head.
He wanted to tell Edward that he didn't think it, he knew it. He loved Edward Nygma, that was a fact.
Leaning down, Edward turned his head and closed his eyes. So the voices had been right once again, of course. His lips were right by Oswald's ear and he only whispered the words. "So you killed my love."
A statement, not a question, even though it was coming from him. His free hand closed around something inside his drawer and he pulled back, just enough to watch Oswald's face, because he wanted to see the moment it would all sink in, the moment he'd panic and get ready to grovel, as Oswald always did. It wasn't as if he didn't know him.
How did he know? It made no sense. Where had he gone wrong? He'd been so careful, he'd thrown out so many red-herrings, he'd tried to make sure Edward would chase false leads until he had a patsy ready and like that, he knew? That wasn't fair. How could he be so ahead of the game when they'd only just started playing? He looked at Edward with wide, horrified eyes, hands tugging against the binding because surely it couldn't be that tight. It was just a tie.
He wriggled his hands as subtly as he could, shaking his head desperately. He just needed to talk, to persuade Edward that he was wrong. Even if he was right.
For obvious reasons, Edward wasn't about to let him talk. At least not yet. He did move his hand from Oswald's mouth, but he barely let him get a word out before he already pushed the gag he'd taken out of his drawer past his teeth. He pulled Oswald's head up by the hair and tightened the gag straps behind him, really not caring if it was too tight. He needed him quiet for now.
"You're going to pay, Oswald. You're going to learn what love means." But he was literally in the man's house and thus there was a limit to what he could get away with. So far. Edward stood up and wiped his hand on his jacket. "I'll just go to tell your servants to take the rest of the day off."
"Please, Ed, I didn--" He didn't get much more out than that. He had a whole speech in his head, turning around and reworking every second until it was perfect and he couldn't even say it. He could lie his way out of this, say someone setting him up to tear them apart or that this was all a mistake and Edward was just upset and tired. All he needed was his words as he could diffuse this.
He struggled and kicked out his legs in frustration, trying to command Edward back so he didn't leave. If his servants could only be useful for once in their worthless lives and come notice this whole mess, he'd be very appreciative. His fingers tried desperately to loosen the bonds but he couldn't quite ease the knots from this angle.
Edward watched Oswald for a few moments, face bereft of any emotion other than cool calculation now. The beginning of a cruel game, he could focus for that. He knew Oswald was a tricky man, slippery. He wasn't going to take any risks. So he reached out and pulled his shirt out of his pants, doing a quick job of unbuttoning the lower few buttons. He could and would set up something more elaborate later, but for now he simply exposed some skin and walked over to the far end of his room, looking through the chemicals he kept there.
It only took him moments to return with a bottle filled with an acidic liquid and he held it up above Oswald, tilting it until a drop hit the skin of his stomach. It wasn't all that bad, he could do much worse. "Hold still."
Oswald wriggled against the bonds regardless and he tried to pluck at the knot, it was fancier than he was used to and honest to God, chains would have been easier to slip out from. Where did he learn to tie a knot like this? ... Well, what did he expect from someone who apparently kept gags in his bedside table drawer? He made an indignant yelp as his shirt was unbuttoned and he tried to pull himself away but it didn't work, given the limitations he had. If anything, his plan now had slowly transformed to 'can I at least get my feet off the bed' then he could work it out from there.
Before he could even start his movement towards that, something sharp and painful hit his stomach and he grunted in pain, looking at the bottle in horror. What the hell was Edward doing? He stopped struggling and lay still, eyes on Edward.
There really wasn't the time for anything elaborate, because he knew all too well that Oswald employed a few people all too interested in getting on his nerves. However, he had more than his share of ingenuity on his side and so he simply placed the bottle on Oswald's stomach, some drops still making their way down the smooth glass, sure to hit his skin eventually. "Hold still or risk knocking over that bottle."
Simple enough threat, he thought. That said he finally turned and walked out the door, closing it behind himself and, just to be safe, even locking. Faint and further away, Oswald might be able to hear him dismissing the servants, if he took the time to listen.
It was so hard not to move when you were aware if you did, you were going to get chemical burns. He tried to breath as slowly as he could, afraid of something causing an over-spilling and burning him. He whimpered a little as the drops than ran down slowly burnt into his skin and he couldn't flinch, if he did then the bottle moved and that was far too worrying. He closed his eyes and bit down hard on the gag to keep himself from moving, fingers slowly, very, very slowly, trying to untie himself.
His eyes opened and he watched the door now, straining to hear what was being said. All he could hear was his own heart beating loudly in his ears. What gave him away?
"Alone at last, my little bird." Closer to mockery than a loving nickname, but given the current situation, Edward doubted he could be blamed for that. Still, he let out a quick laugh when he found Oswald still in the predicament he'd left him in, stepping up to the bed and deliberately poking at his bad leg in an attempt to make him move and spill the liquid.
Before too much could be spilled, Edward picked up the bottle and set it down on the bedside table. Close enough to keep being a threat. He moved his hand behind Oswald's head and unbuckled the gag straps, leaving it to the man to try and work the gag out of his mouth by himself.
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"Fine. We can go."
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"We'll solve it. Together. I swear to you, I'll get justice for Isabell."
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"...you should really try to find someone you actually want to date as your plus one, Oswald."
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At the suggestion, Oswald almost flinched, taking a step back slightly, his cane dragging on the floor. "W-Why would I need anyone else when I have you?" What else could he say to that? Now was not the time for a love confession. One day soon, perhaps. "I don't really date."
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His hands were on Oswald's shoulders before he'd entirely finished his line of thought, he felt his thumb graze Oswald's throat and that was what brought him back to the moment. He looked down at his friend and pushed him a few steps back, closer to his bed.
"How do you feel?"
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He stumbled at the shove, barely managing to brace himself, the cane thudding hard against the floor as he regrouped, unsure how to feel. He felt the bed against the back of his knees and he had no idea how to feel, he had so many questions.
"I don't know how to feel, I'm afraid. I'm not sure-- it's all so fast and I just -- how do you feel?" That was the important question. "Please, Ed, tell me."
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He was on top of him an instant later, easily pinning the man down with his weight and gathering his wrists in one hand. Compared to him, Oswald's not very physically imposing. He'd learned how easily he could overpower the man very soon after meeting him for real and right now Oswald was even cooperating to an extent, so it wasn't surprising that he managed to tie his wrists tightly together and connect then to the bed-frame without much of a hassle. He tugged at them sharply, to make sure he couldn't get loose. Not unless Edward wanted him to.
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Stuck tight above him... hmm, was that the nagging feeling of regret and doubt? Yes, yes it was. Finally, his brain kicked him in the pants and he realised he needed to act. Or speak, rather. "Edward? Edward, I really think we should talk before we go any further." Just to be clear that this was going somewhere good and not somewhere he should be panicking over.
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Such a simple question and there was even a bit of a smile as he asked, his voice gentle enough. He reached over with his free hand, opening the bedside drawer. He couldn't make a mistake now.
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He wanted to tell Edward that he didn't think it, he knew it. He loved Edward Nygma, that was a fact.
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A statement, not a question, even though it was coming from him. His free hand closed around something inside his drawer and he pulled back, just enough to watch Oswald's face, because he wanted to see the moment it would all sink in, the moment he'd panic and get ready to grovel, as Oswald always did. It wasn't as if he didn't know him.
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He wriggled his hands as subtly as he could, shaking his head desperately. He just needed to talk, to persuade Edward that he was wrong. Even if he was right.
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"You're going to pay, Oswald. You're going to learn what love means." But he was literally in the man's house and thus there was a limit to what he could get away with. So far. Edward stood up and wiped his hand on his jacket. "I'll just go to tell your servants to take the rest of the day off."
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He struggled and kicked out his legs in frustration, trying to command Edward back so he didn't leave. If his servants could only be useful for once in their worthless lives and come notice this whole mess, he'd be very appreciative. His fingers tried desperately to loosen the bonds but he couldn't quite ease the knots from this angle.
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It only took him moments to return with a bottle filled with an acidic liquid and he held it up above Oswald, tilting it until a drop hit the skin of his stomach. It wasn't all that bad, he could do much worse. "Hold still."
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Before he could even start his movement towards that, something sharp and painful hit his stomach and he grunted in pain, looking at the bottle in horror. What the hell was Edward doing? He stopped struggling and lay still, eyes on Edward.
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Simple enough threat, he thought. That said he finally turned and walked out the door, closing it behind himself and, just to be safe, even locking. Faint and further away, Oswald might be able to hear him dismissing the servants, if he took the time to listen.
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His eyes opened and he watched the door now, straining to hear what was being said. All he could hear was his own heart beating loudly in his ears. What gave him away?
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Before too much could be spilled, Edward picked up the bottle and set it down on the bedside table. Close enough to keep being a threat. He moved his hand behind Oswald's head and unbuckled the gag straps, leaving it to the man to try and work the gag out of his mouth by himself.
"Your lies?"
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