He couldn't quite hear the words now, it was quieter, they were muffled and he found himself feeling uneasy that Edward was going this. He had a history, sure, but hadn't he gotten over this?
"Edward! I insist you open this door this instant!"
He slammed against it. Hard. Just to get some attention.
Edward left his glasses folded on the edge of the basin, looking back at the door with a glare before his features relaxed. He walked the few steps over and opened the door, looking down at Oswald. "What."
Said very flatly as he considered him. Sure, Oswald was a murderer, but so was he. It was something he liked about them. He was also his friend.
"You--I-- you just were being kind of ... strange." It seemed silly now that Edward was looking at him, all straight laced and normal as if nothing had happened when he heard him ranting not seconds ago. It was fascinating. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I was simply concerned."
He tried to peer into the bathroom, just to make sure he was alone. "Were you talking to yourself?"
"No." Well, yes. But he was crazy enough to do it, not necessarily crazy enough to admit that. However, this was Oswald, so... "Maybe. Only so many ways to talk to someone intelligent."
He turned back around and picked his glasses up, but didn't put them on just yet. Instead he looked at Oswald again. "You don't think much of my loss, do you?"
"Oh, yes, of course. I suppose we all do that sometimes. Talk to ourselves. I shouldn't have eavesdropped, I was just concerned." Oswald apologised with a sheepish smile, backing a little, he made a move to leave, to go get himself properly ready when Edward spoke up again.
He paused, frowning, turning his head to look at Edward. "Your loss?" The girlfriend? Isabella? Whatever it was. "Oh, no, of course I do. It was terribly unfortunate."
"Unfortunate would be if it was an accident." Edward just muttered the words, unfolding the glasses but hesitating to actually put them on. "How does a librarian upset someone enough to be murdered?"
The answer was all too simple. "It's on me. She died because of me, Oswald. Don't you see that? I loved her and that's why she had to die."
"I-I honestly don't know. Sometimes, I blame myself. It must be because people know how important you are to me, they've begun targeting you. I'm so sorry." There, so self sacrificing, taking the blame and everything. Of course, he wasn't about to confess or anything, it was close enough to the truth to be sincere but enough of a lie to keep him safe.
"It wasn't because of you." Oswald limped closer to Edward, sympathy clear on his face as he reached out towards him. "Oh Edward, my dear friend, you played no role in this. You loved her." Unfortunately. Ew. "And now she's gone. All you can do it move forward."
"And if I hadn't loved her, she would still be alive. Wouldn't she?" Edward finally put on his glasses, in time to stare at Oswald's hand and take a step away. Why was he losing his mind to paranoia? There was no motive. Oswald had no reason to kill her. "I'm not moving forward as long as her murder is not avenged."
"It's still not your fault." Oswald let his hand fall and looked at Edward, the hurt and pain clear on his face, as he took a step back and wished, for the love of everything, that Edward would just hurry up and get over this. He wanted to go back to how things were before this idiot woman came into his life and ruined everything. He wanted Edward to smile again. "I'll put my best men on it, I swear. For now, why don't you just relax? Focus on something else."
Ah-ha! He had an idea. "I'm attending a dinner this weekend, perhaps you could come along as my plus one. We could have some drinks, take your mind off everything."
"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.
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Edward pushed his glasses up and splashed some water on his face in hopes of that helping his focus. Instead he was whispering into his ear.
"Why did you kill Dougherty?"
"He was hurting her."
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"Edward! I insist you open this door this instant!"
He slammed against it. Hard. Just to get some attention.
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Said very flatly as he considered him. Sure, Oswald was a murderer, but so was he. It was something he liked about them. He was also his friend.
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He tried to peer into the bathroom, just to make sure he was alone. "Were you talking to yourself?"
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He turned back around and picked his glasses up, but didn't put them on just yet. Instead he looked at Oswald again. "You don't think much of my loss, do you?"
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He paused, frowning, turning his head to look at Edward. "Your loss?" The girlfriend? Isabella? Whatever it was. "Oh, no, of course I do. It was terribly unfortunate."
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The answer was all too simple. "It's on me. She died because of me, Oswald. Don't you see that? I loved her and that's why she had to die."
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"It wasn't because of you." Oswald limped closer to Edward, sympathy clear on his face as he reached out towards him. "Oh Edward, my dear friend, you played no role in this. You loved her." Unfortunately. Ew. "And now she's gone. All you can do it move forward."
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Ah-ha! He had an idea. "I'm attending a dinner this weekend, perhaps you could come along as my plus one. We could have some drinks, take your mind off everything."
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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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