"What? No, Edward, stop this! Stop it this instant!" Oswald yelled in his best commanding voice but as always, it just came out a little like a toddler having a temper tantrum. He definitely picked the wrong place to hide himself in. No phone, no window beside a small one above for ventilation and the trouble with reaching that? It was a lot higher than Oswald was. He tried to climb up the boxes stacked around this little storage room but with his bad leg, climbing didn't so much as happen as falling.
He looked around for something to poke the window open with instead. "You don't want to do this. You're making a big mistake!"
Edward put on the gas mask, hiding a rather impressive roll of his eyes that Oswald would have missed anyway. He started pouring the chemicals together, the reaction almost instant and it only took a bit of encouragement by fanning his hands to make the smoke seep in from under the door. It wouldn't knock Oswald out completely, but definitely dissuade further thoughts of running or fighting much, making him weak and tired. Just the way he liked his little bird.
It didn't take him long to pick the lock and once he'd done that, he opened the door, pushing the gas mask back up now that the gas was already beginning to fade.
"Where did you think you were going to fly off to? Penguins are flightless birds." Edward picked Oswald up by both arms and began to pull him out of the room. "You should know that."
His head felt heavy and everything around him got blurry and strange. He could barely keep his eyes open and his body gave out as he slumped down, too dizzy to stand. By the time Edward pried the door open, he had no fight left in him, any attempt to stand made him feel like the room was spinning and he had to fight not to vomit when he was yanked up from the floor.
As he was lifted, he struggled the best he could but ultimately, it came to nothing. "Edward, don't do this." Oswald tried to push off from him, to get himself free from the hold and back onto the ground but he didn't seem able to tip himself off and out of his hands. "I'm warning you, it's a mistake."
"Like me being with Isabella was a mistake?" Edward was back to his strange calm now, having dragged Oswald all the way back to his room. In a fit of inspiration he picked up Oswald's cane - forgotten and lonely on the ground - and straightened up, twirling the cane and looking down at him. No further warning, he just whipped the cane down, hitting Oswald on his still exposed stomach, right where the acid had burned him.
The hit was painful and Oswald yelped, curling into himself, his head spinning as he tried to cover it, his movement slow and sluggish. "It was a mistake!" He guessed the pain was making him honest now, he felt himself getting angry and it was lucky he could barely move his body or he'd be lashing out himself by now. "You would have killed her, we both know it. Sooner or later, she'd be dead and you'd be destroyed by it. Why prolong the inevitable?"
"I would have?" There was a dangerous undercurrent to the question and moments later the question of why answered itself, as Edward crouched down above him and wrapped his hands around his throat, looking down at him. "Like this? Is that what you thought I'd do?"
His neck felt so fragile under his fingers and for a moment he felt something else flare up inside him, which he stomped down on quickly. No. There was no room any more for the protectiveness he had felt from the moment he first saw this man collapse in front of him after begging for help. He was done letting himself be used.
"You would have hurt her, hurt yourself. You should thank me for what I did." Oswald knew that wasn't true but he was desperate, angry and hurting. He could have spat out worse words but those hands gripped his neck, dangerously tight and as the pressure applied, Oswald began to choke. He struggled to breath and his hands weakly hit out against Edward, the gas he'd inhaled was making him weaker and weaker by the minute and in the end, he couldn't do much as moving his arms became too much effort.
He just lay there, twitching and gripping at Edward's jacket, looking at him desperately.
When Edward stopped choking Oswald, he wasn't moving any more and for one awful moment, he thought that he may have killed him.
Just like her.
How could he still feel bad over this man, after all he had done to him, to his Isabella? Edward held Oswald's prone body in his arms and he wished there wasn't a voice telling him how weak he was when he cried over all he had lost.
But he pulled himself together quickly enough, losing no time. When Oswald woke up again, he found himself in the trunk of a moving car, blindfolded and once more gagged, this time a pair of rigid handcuffs holding his hands behind his back.
A good while later the car stopped and the trunk was opened, only the faint sound of seagulls giving away anything about their location. "Hope you enjoyed the ride."
Oswald felt sick, his head was spinning and he honestly felt like he was suffering some kind of horrific hangover. His throat was raw and it ached horrible and he felt his head throbbing from the after effects of whatever he'd inhaled. His leg was cramped and aching sharply from the awkward, small little space he'd been trapped in.
He was just glad the movement had stopped, it was making him nauseated. Not that it matter much now. Or anything mattered much.
Was this really it? Was he about to die.
He didn't react to Edward, he couldn't really. He just lay there, his body limp and aching, looking in the direction of where Edward must be.
Edward stepped away and stared at the ground, steeling himself. What did he have left without Oswald? Nothing. But at least he'd have done right by Isabella. It was the least he could do. But this was far from over. He pulled him up and removed the gag, pocketing it in case he needed it again. For now he actually wrapped an arm around Oswald to help him walk as he forced him along. He had a plan. "I still admire you, Oswald. There's something great about someone who cares so little about anyone other than himself."
"I care about you." Oswald rasped and it's true, he dd, he cared a lot about Edward. He just did it badly. Selfishly. He was wrong to have gone about things as he had and he knew that now, as he was being marched to his death. "Love is about sacrifice. Like you said. I didn't want to sacrifice you to her then, I just want you. To be mine, only mine. Not hers. I didn't love you right then because I haven't loved anyone before. Not since my mother. And no one has ever been so kind to me, no one has ever believed in me, not like she did. You were special and I refused to share you, I hurt you." It was hard to talk, his words were raspy and often then were unclear, stuck in his throat as he leaned into Edward, his leg giving out every few steps and everything spinning, despite the blindfold.
But these were his last words. His last chance. What could he gain from lying now? "Truth is, you're right. I didn't love you then, not properly. I didn't know how to be someone who could love you because I didn't understand love. But I understand it now. It's too late, I know but I'm ready. To love you properly." He choked up a little, tears wetting the blindfold. "I love you, Edward, and a part of you must know that."
Edward held Oswald close suddenly, both arms going around him as he fumbled around with the handcuffs, unlocking them. He held on a little longer then he might have had to, turning his head to hide his face against his hair. This was his friend, the man that had dared to comfort him only days ago. The man who'd brought on his misery.
He pulled away and took off the blindfold, taking a step backwards, gun in hand. They were on the dock. For Gotham, it was a beautiful day.
Oswald clung onto Edward as long as he was allowed to, his fingers tangled in his jacket desperately as he buried his head into his neck and inhaled that familiar scent, took it all in and prepared for the worst. He stumbled back when he had to and blinked into the harsh light, struggling to see. And then he saw the gun.
It was raining lightly but in Gotham, that was definitely a good day. His eyes were wet from crying and he raised his hand, wiping them away carefully. "Don't do this Edward, please. You're going to regret it. It's going to hurt you and you won't be able to come back from this. It's not just a crime of passion or self preservation. It's the cold blooded murder of someone you love."
"What's to love about you?" Why did he care about him? Edward looked down to make sure that the hand holding the gun was steady. But of course Oswald was right. This wasn't like the other times he had killed or the countless times he had just wished death upon someone.
Oswald took longer to answer that than he was proud of. What was to be loved about him? Not much, he wasn't going to lie. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. "I don't know. You must have seen something in me that you liked. Perhaps not loved but liked." Because only two people in his life had ever cared about him. Surely only they could answer this. "I need you. Just like you need me. We're supposed to be together, you can't have one without the other. I made you who you are."
"You taught me a few things." He could admit that much. He could also aim the gun lower, wondering where best to shoot him. Because he knew he had to fire the gun. He had to kill the man who killed his love. Edward glared at him, shaking his head. "Is there anything you wouldn't say to save your own skin?"
"I'm not just saying it, I mean it. I love you, Edward. I will always love you." Oswald wept as he held up his hands, knowing he couldn't disarm this. What was going to happen, it was just going to happen and he couldn't stop it. He could only hope that Edward believed him. "I made you who you are, I taught you to be somebody instead of a nobody. Even if you kill me, I'll always be there. With you. I'm part of you now. Like you're a part of me."
"Nobody? Is that right? You can do better, Oswald. Where's the flattery? Where's the insincere grovelling? Have I not earned that much?" Edward wanted to beat his face in, but at the same time the thought of it was sickening instead of satisfying. It was all wrong. Hunting down the person who had taken Isabella from him wasn't supposed to feel like this. "You've taken my love from me, Oswald. I wanted you to die knowing that you have never loved anyone."
"I love you. I know that I love you and if this is what you have to do then I understand." He didn't want Edward to do it, he hoped he backed out but he knew it was unlikely at this point. Edward needed this and he -- he had to learn to sacrifice, right? If that's what he needed then Oswald had to learned. He sobbed lightly and took several steps back until he was right on the edge of the pier. "This will ruin you, if you do this to me. You'll never forgive yourself."
Oswald didn't want to die, he really didn't, he wanted to live and be happy. With Edward. But that wasn't going to happen and he knew that. But there was no one else in this world he'd rather be with and without him, what was the point? If he had to die, he wanted his last gesture to be for Edward. He took yet another step back and teetered on the edge.
"I won't make you do this to me. I will die knowing that I loved you and I did this for you. So you can have justice. You can't deny it now, you never will, I loved you." And like that, he took a step back off the pier.
The gun shot went off and Edward wasn't sure what he had really been aiming at. He looked at Oswald and was surprised when he didn't see him bleed. Finally his hand began to shake, finally he let go of the gun and it dropped to the ground, as useless as he was. Edward stared at the gun, but didn't bend to pick it up. His mind was blank, he couldn't hold on to a single thought and he had never felt so lost.
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He looked around for something to poke the window open with instead. "You don't want to do this. You're making a big mistake!"
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It didn't take him long to pick the lock and once he'd done that, he opened the door, pushing the gas mask back up now that the gas was already beginning to fade.
"Where did you think you were going to fly off to? Penguins are flightless birds." Edward picked Oswald up by both arms and began to pull him out of the room. "You should know that."
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As he was lifted, he struggled the best he could but ultimately, it came to nothing. "Edward, don't do this." Oswald tried to push off from him, to get himself free from the hold and back onto the ground but he didn't seem able to tip himself off and out of his hands. "I'm warning you, it's a mistake."
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His neck felt so fragile under his fingers and for a moment he felt something else flare up inside him, which he stomped down on quickly. No. There was no room any more for the protectiveness he had felt from the moment he first saw this man collapse in front of him after begging for help. He was done letting himself be used.
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He just lay there, twitching and gripping at Edward's jacket, looking at him desperately.
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Just like her.
How could he still feel bad over this man, after all he had done to him, to his Isabella? Edward held Oswald's prone body in his arms and he wished there wasn't a voice telling him how weak he was when he cried over all he had lost.
But he pulled himself together quickly enough, losing no time. When Oswald woke up again, he found himself in the trunk of a moving car, blindfolded and once more gagged, this time a pair of rigid handcuffs holding his hands behind his back.
A good while later the car stopped and the trunk was opened, only the faint sound of seagulls giving away anything about their location. "Hope you enjoyed the ride."
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He was just glad the movement had stopped, it was making him nauseated. Not that it matter much now. Or anything mattered much.
Was this really it? Was he about to die.
He didn't react to Edward, he couldn't really. He just lay there, his body limp and aching, looking in the direction of where Edward must be.
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But these were his last words. His last chance. What could he gain from lying now? "Truth is, you're right. I didn't love you then, not properly. I didn't know how to be someone who could love you because I didn't understand love. But I understand it now. It's too late, I know but I'm ready. To love you properly." He choked up a little, tears wetting the blindfold. "I love you, Edward, and a part of you must know that."
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He pulled away and took off the blindfold, taking a step backwards, gun in hand. They were on the dock. For Gotham, it was a beautiful day.
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It was raining lightly but in Gotham, that was definitely a good day. His eyes were wet from crying and he raised his hand, wiping them away carefully. "Don't do this Edward, please. You're going to regret it. It's going to hurt you and you won't be able to come back from this. It's not just a crime of passion or self preservation. It's the cold blooded murder of someone you love."
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Oswald didn't want to die, he really didn't, he wanted to live and be happy. With Edward. But that wasn't going to happen and he knew that. But there was no one else in this world he'd rather be with and without him, what was the point? If he had to die, he wanted his last gesture to be for Edward. He took yet another step back and teetered on the edge.
"I won't make you do this to me. I will die knowing that I loved you and I did this for you. So you can have justice. You can't deny it now, you never will, I loved you." And like that, he took a step back off the pier.
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