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.
Edward managed to hit a nerve in his leg and it twitched involuntarily, jerking his whole body and as he did, the bottle tipped and more than a comfortable amount over-spilled. A patch of skin on his stomach was an angry red, slowly blistering and Oswald cried out in pain, twisting in his bonds as finally, Edward moved the bottle away. He was gasping for breath as the gag was yanked out and he took a few moments to calm himself, choking down a moan on pain.
"Edward, please, my dear friend. Why would you think I'd do such a thing? What person told you this?"
Had someone turned Edward against him? Who would have known it was him? The only one who knew was Gabe and he'd have never told him. What had changed in that instance to cause this? "I insist you tie me! We need to talk about this, you're upset, you're confused, you don't want to do something you'll regret."
"I told myself." True enough. If only he had listened sooner. If only he could somehow have known before she died. Sweet Isabella. If he had been less blind!
"Do you want to keep insulting my intelligence?" He had found him. The person with a motive. "Selfish, dirty piece of shit."
Did it hurt him to get called out like that? He hoped so. Oswald had taken the two people that meant the most from him. "You'll suffer."
"Edward, you need to calm down." Oswald tried to meet his eyes and not get hurt by how much loathing and hate he could see in them. He thought he was so close to getting what he wanted and his own foolish emotions trapped him. He took a shaky inhale and tried his best to stay calm, to keep things from escalating. "I get it, you're angry. You're upset. You're bound to be, you're grieving. It's going to be okay."
He looked down at his stomach, angry red and blistered over, wincing a little but trying not to be deterred. "I forgive you for this. What you did. It's understand, you're-- you're hurt. This isn't the answer."
Ah. The knot was loosening, Oswald was getting some wriggle room. He purposefully drew no attention to it, he kept his hands still but gently moving, not to arousing any suspicion. He had a chance here.
For just a moment Edward doubted. What if Oswald hadn't done it? What if his damaged psyche was causing him to lose the only friend he had? But no. He wasn't wrong about this. It all added up. It added up to this ultimate betrayal.
"I am hurt. But you wouldn't understand, Oswald. You don't understand love. Love is about sacrifice."
Even back before he had truly become himself, he had understood that much. "You would betray anyone who stands in the way of you getting what you want." Because that was what this amounted to, wasn't it? "Even me."
"But I do love you! I love you more than anyone ever could. You have to understand, Edward, I really do." He shook his head in protest at the very idea that he couldn't love, his eyes wet and his expression desperate. "Anything I did or would do, it's only because I care about you."
Oswald met Edward's eyes, flinching at the hurt and betrayal in his eyes. He hated that he made Edward feel this way, he knew he'd done wrong but he couldn't help himself that he'd done it. He had to do it. For them.
He yanked his hands free from the rope while he had the chance and threw a solid punch before Edward could stop him. Like that, he scrambled off the bed and made a desperate run for the door, yanking the door open. Could he out run Edward? No. Probably not. He could, however, lock himself in another room and call for back up.
What an excellent way to show he cared! Edward could only laugh darkly as he rubbed his face, following after Oswald in time to see how he locked himself into the nearest room. Of course, he'd hide. But there was no phone in this room and that meant that he had a quick chance to act, other than just how skilled he was with locks.
Edward returned to his room and when he emerged again, he carried yet another set of chemicals and - more importantly - he was wearing a gas mask. So far he hadn't pulled it down yet, so his voice sounded normal as he knelt down next to the door Oswald was hiding behind. "I suggest you hold your breath, Oswald. I'm about to flood you with a gas that is sure to knock you out. Sleepy time, birdy."
"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."
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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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"Edward, please, my dear friend. Why would you think I'd do such a thing? What person told you this?"
Had someone turned Edward against him? Who would have known it was him? The only one who knew was Gabe and he'd have never told him. What had changed in that instance to cause this? "I insist you tie me! We need to talk about this, you're upset, you're confused, you don't want to do something you'll regret."
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"Do you want to keep insulting my intelligence?" He had found him. The person with a motive. "Selfish, dirty piece of shit."
Did it hurt him to get called out like that? He hoped so. Oswald had taken the two people that meant the most from him. "You'll suffer."
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He looked down at his stomach, angry red and blistered over, wincing a little but trying not to be deterred. "I forgive you for this. What you did. It's understand, you're-- you're hurt. This isn't the answer."
Ah. The knot was loosening, Oswald was getting some wriggle room. He purposefully drew no attention to it, he kept his hands still but gently moving, not to arousing any suspicion. He had a chance here.
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"I am hurt. But you wouldn't understand, Oswald. You don't understand love. Love is about sacrifice."
Even back before he had truly become himself, he had understood that much. "You would betray anyone who stands in the way of you getting what you want." Because that was what this amounted to, wasn't it? "Even me."
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Oswald met Edward's eyes, flinching at the hurt and betrayal in his eyes. He hated that he made Edward feel this way, he knew he'd done wrong but he couldn't help himself that he'd done it. He had to do it. For them.
He yanked his hands free from the rope while he had the chance and threw a solid punch before Edward could stop him. Like that, he scrambled off the bed and made a desperate run for the door, yanking the door open. Could he out run Edward? No. Probably not. He could, however, lock himself in another room and call for back up.
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Edward returned to his room and when he emerged again, he carried yet another set of chemicals and - more importantly - he was wearing a gas mask. So far he hadn't pulled it down yet, so his voice sounded normal as he knelt down next to the door Oswald was hiding behind. "I suggest you hold your breath, Oswald. I'm about to flood you with a gas that is sure to knock you out. Sleepy time, birdy."
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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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