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violetsmoak · 5 years ago

Note

Congrats on passing 200 followers! As for prompts, I’ve always been curious on what your take on a “Jason and Tim meet as kids (and eventually fall in love)” story would be like. Your writing has always brought me so much joy, so thank you for all that you do and share with us!

Summary: In which Jason’s instincts and Tim’s panic response are a little bit off.

Pairing: JayTim

Rating: PG

Author’s Note: Well, I don’t have my own headcanon for this because so many writers before me have done it so well, but I hopefully this fulfils your expectations!

This takes place at the end of Jason’s run as Robin. Jason is 15 and Tim is 12.

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Jason is being watched.

He knows this with the certainty of a kid who grew up on the street, and one who has worn the mantle of Robin for three years now. It’s pretty much impossible for him not to notice the sensation of eyes scrutinizing, and he’s been feeling variations of that for two weeks now.

And today I’m finally going to do something about it…

Gotham Public Library has provided him a manner of safe haven these past few months, when it’s too tense to go back to the manor and all of Bruce’s bullshit, and when he’d rather not spend another minute at school. He’s been letting himself get lost in his homework assignments and the occasional novel after school, and it’s close to peaceful.

Until the staring began.

To be fair, the kid doing it is trying not to be too obvious about it; he watches from out of the corner of his eyes and doesn’t let his attention linger for longer than a few seconds lest it become noticeable.

But there’s just something about that attention that sticks with Jason; it’s getting to the point where he imagines he feels it when he goes out on patrol, too.

More confounding is the kid’s knack for disappearing before Jason can get up the momentum to confront him. One-minute Jason will be surveying him, then he’ll look down to his book and back, and the kid will be gone.

It’s like he takes lessons from Batman when it comes to exits.

Jason doesn’t know anything about him, beyond the immediate facts: pale, black hair and very, very blue eyes. He’s young, the roundness of his face suggesting he’s younger than Jason, but he’s about two inches taller. Athletic, but in an understated way, his weight class far beneath Jason’s own in muscle alone.

The kid comes to the library alone, no friends of parents in sight. He wears clothes that are meant to look casual, but the brands are the same designer ones that Alfred purchases for Jason, meaning he’s got money. Sometimes he wears glasses—on those days Jason notices the staring more, as if the boy thinks having his eyes framed behind glass makes his interest less pervasive.

He’s also familiar in a way that Jason can’t place. If he didn’t know that no crook in Gotham would be so desperate as to employ a shrimp like this kid as anything other than maybe a drug runner, he’d figure he was under someone’s surveillance.

(His clothes are too nice, and those strange eyes not haunted enough to be a child of the streets like Jason.)

He always has a bunch of books he’s flipping through, or a tablet he’s working on; homework, from the look of the textbooks, but Jason’s caught sight of his reading selection on the Returns cart before leaving: digital photography, Zombie Survival Guide, histories of World War II codebreakers and varied biographies with no underlying theme.

It’s hard not to tap into all that Robin training to find out who his little stalker is; but he’s not paranoid, like Bruce, and there are more direct ways of doing it.

“So, the whole watchin’ me thing,” he says one day apropos of nothing and sits in a chair opposite the kid; this earns him a look that epitomizes ‘deer in the headlights’. “You got some kind of beef with me, or what?”

“What?” the boy squeaks.

“Every day the past two weeks, you sit at this table and pretend like you’re not starin’ at me—don’t say you don’t,” he adds when the kid opens his mouth to protest. “I know when I’m bein’ watched. Hazards of growin’ up in Crime Alley. So what do you want?”

He tries to come off as easy-going and joking, but with just the right edge of “if you’re fucking with me, I’ll end you” that Jason Wayne, adopted son of Brucie Wayne and former street kid would be expected to have. No point in breaking out the Robin voice or whup-ass.

“I—I was just—I wasn’t—you’re just—” the kid stammers, clearly having trouble formulating a response. Jason almost feels bad, but his suspicion about why he’s being watched by another kid with such intensity outweighs that.

He opens his mouth to remind the kid to breathe, when suddenly,

“Cute!” the boy blurts out, too loud for the library and earning a few irritated shh! noises from the study nooks in the corner. Jason barely hears those, his own brain trying to parse what the kid just said. “I mean, you. Are. Cute—I think you’re cute.”

And then his eyes bulge, and his cheeks darken, and he looks abruptly furious with himself.

Jason’s own cheeks begin to flame, his jaw-dropping a little in surprise.

Whatever I was expecting, that was not it.

He’s never been hit on by a guy before.

Well, not a guy in his own age bracket. He’s had plenty of come-ons from older, and often drunker, creeps.

“I’m sorry,” the poor kid gasps, and he’s snatching at his things, practically vibrating like he wants to rip out of his own skin in an effort to vanish. “I don’t know…shouldn’t have said that. Sorry, I’m just…”

The kid looks so ashamed that Jason instantly feels bad.

He’s not entirely sure how he feels about having a boy like him; the only attention he’s ever gotten like that has been from the opposite sex, and even that’s sparse. The only kids he comes in contact in his line of work is on his occasional trips with the Titans, and even they’re all older than him. Other than his first and only girlfriend, Rena—who had to leave Gotham when her dad got transferred to Star City—the girls at Jason’s school only show an interest in him when they think he might buy them things.

But, he’s also Robin.

And Robin’s supposed to inspire confidence in people. If there’s something about him—even just as regular civilian Jason Todd—seems approachable to this kid, then he’s got to be careful how he handles it.

Besides, he can’t help feeling a little bit flattered.

It takes him a moment to think of something that might ease some of the tension from the situation.

“Pizza,” he offers.

That makes the other boy freeze and stare at him. “What?”

That earns more shushing, and so Jason makes sure to keep his voice pitched low the next time he speaks.

“There’s a pizza place down the block from the library,” he says. “You can design your own with whatever toppings. I think they do vegan stuff, too. If that’s a thing you… Do you want to maybe…go there? And talk?”

He cringes inwardly.

Did that sound as lame to him as it did to me?

He always thought asking out a girl was hard to do, but he’s never given any thought to how it might feel with a guy.

Said guy’s jaw does drop at this, as if this too, is the last thing he expected.

“You don’t have to,” he rushes to say. “I mean…what I said before. It just—you surprised me, is all. And I—I should go.”

Almost before Jason can register, he’s completely packed up and across the library like he’s got Kid Flash on his trail.

Worried the kid might accidentally run into traffic in his haste, Jason hurries after him.

He finds him outside the stairs of the library, the contents of his rashly collected belongings spilled over the steps and muttering angrily at himself.

Without a second thought, Jason stoops down beside him and picks up the nearest notebook, holding it out to him. “Sorry if I freaked you out.”

“Don’t be—I’m clearly the one who fails at human interaction.”

“I’m Jason,” he offers.

“I know,” is the instant reply.

Jason’s soothing mood vanishes within the next second, once more replaced with cool suspicion as he straightens up. “Yeah? And how do you know that?”

The boy’s face whips up toward him and he makes an almost strangled sound, like he’s trying to choke himself from the inside.

“I don’t mean that like it sounded,” he rushes to say. “I’ve seen you before, is all. At Wayne events. My parents always get invited, and sometimes they make me come along, and…” He trails off, forces himself to breathe, and then offers Jason a wan smile and his hand. Surprisingly, for all his discomfort before, it doesn’t shake. “Hi. I’m Tim Drake.”

“Right,” Jason says slowly, accepting the hand warily.

Kid’s got a strong grip for someone so spindly.

That’s when it clicks for Jason, why the kid looks so familiar.

He has seen him before, hanging out with the other rich kids that always seem to flock together and circle the wagons at these things. Unlike them, he’s always seemed to be as uncomfortable at the parties as Jason was, and spent more time trailing behind his parents and shaking hands with people than with the kids his own age.

Maybe if I wasn’t spending so much time trying to figure out how to get out of those things early, we might have actually talked.

The explanation answers one question Jason had, but not the other.

“So, you’ve seen me at parties, and that made you decide to…what? Stalk me at the library?”

“No! No, I wasn’t—I happened to be in the library one day when you came in, and after that I just…kept…coming back,” Tim trails off, as if realizing he’s not making his case any better. He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in a way Jason’s only ever seen Bruce do when he or Dick say or do something he can’t rationalize. “Look, it might come as a shock to you, but I’m not great with people. And you’re…” He gestures at Jason like that explains everything, “you.”

Clearly articulation isn’t a strong point, although Jason’s not sure if that’s an inborn characteristic or if Tim really is that flustered by him.

He kind of, really wants to find out.

Jason rubs at the back of his neck, trying to figure out what exactly he’s supposed to say to that, and then decides for both their sakes, he’ll let it slide. Instead, he says, “So, does that mean you’re in?”

Tim is taken off-guard. “Huh?”

“Pizza,” Jason repeats slowly. He jerks his thumb in the direction of the pizza parlor. “That way.”

That earns a stare, and then Tim’s blushing again. “I was serious before, you don’t have to—”

“Don’t tell me you’re not hungry. You look like you haven’t eaten since ever.”

“I have a fast metabolism.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I do!”

“Whatever. Consider it my civic duty as the son of a billionaire philanthropist,” Jason replies with a roll of the eyes. “The getting you fed part. You’re paying for it yourself, since now I know you have money.”

“But—I—what?”

“That’s how it works, isn’t it?” Jason says. “Go for a first date, then decide if you want to actually date or just be friends? I’m not sure, is it the same thing with guys as girls? Either way, I think it works out for both of us.”

When Tim continues to look at him, uncomprehending, Jason wonders if somehow he’s completely misread the situation.

“Unless I really did mess you up before and you just said that thing about me for shits and giggles.” Which is kind of a letdown, he realizes, and discovers he really doesn’t want Tim to have some kind of ulterior motive. There’s too much of that kind of thing in his life already. “Though…that still leaves the question about what you thought was so fascinating about this ugly mug.”

He’s barely finished the sentence, but Tim is blurting, “That was it.”

Jason raises an eyebrow.

“I mean,” Tim says, clearing his throat. “You’re not ugly. And yes to pizza. There is no world where the answer to pizza is ever ‘no’.”

“Barring parallel worlds,” Jason offers.

“Barring those,” Tim agrees and swings his backpack over his shoulder. He shifts, a little awkward. “So, where is this place?”

“Just down this way. We should hurry if you don’t want to get stuck in the supper rush,” Jason says, unable to stop the grin breaking out on his face. They start down the street together, but Jason pauses. “Before we go, just one more question.”

Tim tenses. “…Yes?”

“You’re not one of those weirdos that puts pineapple on pizza, are you? Because, I mean, the stalking thing I could probably forgive, but that…”

“Please, do I look like a heathen? The only thing that touches my pizza is Canadian bacon, onions and artichoke hearts.”

The other boy adopts a scandalized expression; it’s the first one that has nothing to do with outright panic, and for that, Jason is glad.

He makes a face at the odd combination, and then shrugs. “Weird. Then again, I’ll try anything once, so why not?”

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Yes, Tim is taller than Jason here. Because poor Jay is still malnourished and Timmy had a relatively healthy upbringing. I’d say Jay is 4′6″ here (which is canon for before he died) and Tim’s about 4′8″. Because there’s not enough tiny Jason fics in the world. :P

Your feedback matters! I want to know what you think of my story, so feel free to leave kudos, a comment or as many of any emojis you want and let me know how you feel!

#jaytim #jason todd #tim drake #meet cute #childhood friends #awkward boys #fic prompts #writing requests #for anonymous #violet writes #violetsmoak #jason's been watched a lot longer than two weeks #he just doesn't realize it #dcu #batman #humor #flirting

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sueboohscorner · 7 years ago

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Season 4 premiere of #Gotham is here! Review, Rate, Spoilers. Episode one "Pax Penguina"

Greetings and salutations my fellow Gothamites. Yes, it is that wonderful time of year once again; the time for a new season, new characters, and new hero in the making that the city of Gotham truly deserves. A Dark Knight. (See how I added the tagline there?)

A strange system of unionized crime, an exciting new club in town, a Riddler-sicle, some alleyway butt-kicking, and an answer to the question that has been buzzing around for three years: “What the heck happened to Jonathan Crane?”

Season four of Gotham, episode one. Here we go.

And right off the bat, (pun not intended at first, but now that I think about it, pun totally intended), we see a masked figure save a family from some thugs with some good old-fashioned fisticuffs. Who was that masked figure you might ask? Why, it’s Bruce Wayne (David Mazouz) dabbling in some vigilantism (and doing a pretty good job so far, I might add). After the skirmish, Bruce discovers that the thugs possessed a license with a very familiar umbrella-shaped stamp on it.

Elsewhere, without Bruce’s knowledge, Ra’s al Ghul (Alexander Siddig) observes Bruce’s escalades like a mentor watches a student or how a father watches his own son.

We then see a wedding in progress. Everyone’s having fun, they’re happy, the band pulls a proper Rick Rolling, and a good time is being had by all. But since this is Gotham City, the celebration is cut off, of course, by some hicks in masks and armed to the teeth. You know the drill, they demand cash, phones, jewelry, valuables and nobody gets hurt. You know how you do.

A whistle rings through the hall; almost like a signal. Everyone turns their heads to see…. Victor Zsasz (Anthony Carrigan)! Man, I’ve missed him!

He, in his own way, politely informed the gunmen that in order to commit a crime in Gotham, you gotta have a license; and the only way to get a license is to ask the Penguin and give him a good cut of the earnings. As long as you have those licenses, you can commit a crime without being arrested or persecuted by the police. The leader of the hicks, Merton (Michael Buscemi), says hell to the no on that offer. In return, Zsasz shoots his finger clean off, causing the hicks to run along. The bride and groom thank Victor for saving their wedding from the thugs….only to be bombarded by other thugs that do have a license.

What did you expect? It’s Gotham.

Meanwhile, in a creepy, dimly lit, congressional looking room, the new Mayor and commissioner of Gotham are having a meeting with the former mayor and now full-time Kingpin Oswald Cobblepot (Robin Lord Taylor). And, basically, since Penguin has organized and unionized crime, the crime rate has been cut by 57%. A historic low for the city of Gotham. Mayor Burke (Larry Pine) is all-in-all “thankful” for Penguin’s um…”contributions” to help keep the city safe, but he is still hesitant about the new licensed criminals’ system. With a somewhat calm exterior and a smile, Penguin insists on how exactly the hordes of criminals that once prowled the streets of Gotham…

First, he hunted them down, then he-

Okay, okay fine. Use your imagination. The point is: Oswald Cobblepot mad Gotham City safer. However, Gotham will ALWAYS have crime. And all that he’s asking from Mayor Burke is to have crime be put in the hands of professionals. A simple deal with simple terms….well, yeah, I mean, Penguin does get a sweet profit from it; but being the expert negotiator he is, Mayor Burke and the commissioner get a little percentage of the profits themselves.

Unionized crime, no press, no police interference, and a piece of the pie for everyone. God bless America.

We finally see Jim Gordon (Ben McKenzie) make an appearance as he takes a visit to a bar for his coffee. Unfortunately, Jim stumbled upon a random thug robbing the bartender at gunpoint. Jim gets ready to do his GCPD thing when the thug tells him that he has a license…….needless to say, Jim Gordon does not give a single rat’s ass and arrests the fool. Ah, good old Jim. Good to be back.

At Wayne Manor, Alfred (Sean Pertwee) confronts Bruce about his late night activities. While Bruce informs Alfred that he intends to stop Penguin’s new crime syndicate. Such a busy boy Master B is.

Remember those hicks at the wedding? We see Merton and his partner Grady (Michael Maize) take a stroll down to Arkham Asylum to visit a certain patient. A certain patient that we have not seen in three years or so: Jonathan Crane (Charlie Tahan).

(It’s been so long!)

In his years of confinement, the effects of the fear toxin, created by his whack-a-doo father, are still well within Jonathan’s system; causing him to live with his mind being in a constant state of fear which had left Jonathan traumatized and with a self-made, imagined “Boogeyman” scarecrow-like being that haunts him. Merton and Grady bribe the Warden of Arkham (Damian Young) to let them take Jonathan Crane with them. They drag him out of his cell and close up to see a drawing that Jonathan had been scribbling on the floor almost obsessively.

They take Jonathan back to his home and uncover more of his father’s experimental drugs for the fear toxin. With the use of an actual scarecrow, Merton and Grady force Jonathan to make more of the toxin, which they have weaponized and use it to rob a bank on live television to show that Penguin a lesson.

While investigating the crime scene, Jim notices that the method the hick thugs used was very similar to Gerald Crane’s fear toxin and informs his partner in crime Harvey Bullock (Donal Logue). From this, they deduce that Merton must have forced Jonathan to reveal the fear toxin formula.

Jim and Harvey pay a visit to the Warden at Arkham Asylum, which wasn’t exactly very fruitful. So, they go to Grady’s apartment. Unfortunately for them, he and Merton were waiting for them. The head hick Merton explains that they want to send a message to Penguin about him and his licenses.

Elsewhere, we see Selina Kyle (Camren Bicondova) walking alone at night in an alley. Since this is Gotham, a bunch of muggers take notice and surround her.

But guess what? Selina was hoping they would do that and then she pulled out that whip and when ALL KINDS of proto-Catwoman on them! One guy tries to get up and attack Selina from behind when Tabitha Galavan (Jessica Lucas) and knocks him right upside the head. This was a teaching moment for Tabitha to give to Selina. Never turn your back on a guy unless you know for sure that he’s down. And a lesson learned means pizza for Selina and Tabby.

After bringing a box of pepperoni-covered goodness back to their apartment, Tabitha and Selina see that Victor Zsasz has been waiting for them. Though he did not come with violent intentions, Victor did come with a request: that Tabitha and Selina should come over to Penguin, get a license, and let a lot of vicious and scaring bygones be vicious and scaring bygones. Selina full-heartedly agrees with the promise of more power, money, and a better place to live. Having her pride, Tabitha refuses.

At the not-yet-opened Iceberg Lounge, Oswald Cobblepot gives a statement to inaugurate his new club. A club to see and be seen. The conference of reporters inquire about the new licenses and crime in the city. Oswald gives a rousing statement about how Caesar Augustus once had a period of calm with rarely any violent acts of crime or aggression. He called it “Pax Romana”. Cobblepot goes on to state that without the GCPD getting in the way, this could possibly be known as his “Pax Penguina.”

Oswald then reveals his most “interesting” centerpiece: Edward Nygma, the Riddler himself (Corey Michael Smith) completely frozen solid.

(Eh, I’ve already made like a ton of ice puns….)

Making use of the advice that Bruce gave him, Jim Gordon marches into the club and informs Penguin that the gang of hicks (look, I know they probably have a better name than that, but once you watch the episode, you’d call them the same thing) are coming after Penguin with fear toxin. Jim’s threat and antagonizing goads Oswald into wanting to catch the gang of hicks for himself.

Opening night of the Iceberg Lounge is going splendidly. The sights, lights, sounds, music, the mingling, the top-drawer of Gotham’s society attending, and the apropos ice-themed décor makes it look like a gathering of Gatsbys. Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth are even in attending too. However, Bruce has more of a hidden agenda to be there than just to make an appearance as a Wayne. He means to uncover any information he can get about Penguin’s new licenses for legal crime. Bruce and Oswald have a conversation underlined with so much more that what is being said. Very Batman, I might add.

Without realizing it completely, Oswald reveals that he is working with a man that has a list of people with licenses. Bruce intends to make his move until he sees Selina Kyle from across the room.

Ignoring Bruce and focusing on her true intention, Selina talks to Victor Zsasz about agreeing to get a license. Victor implies that the deal was meant for her and her babysitter, Tabitha. Coincidentally, Tabitha shows up behind Selina and agrees to get a license from Penguin.

Meanwhile, the gang of hicks decide to attack Penguin at his inauguration. With Jonathan have made more of the fear toxin, they take the scarecrow, throw it in a closet and Jonathan along with it, locking the door.

In his fear-induced hallucination, Jonathan sees the scarecrow come to life once again and comes toward him. Trying with all of his might, with his primal screams of terror, and plead after plead to let him out of the closet, Jonathan is completely alone, completely trapped with his personal boogeyman.

Jonathan falls to the ground, cowering, whimpering, and shaking. His hallucination calls out to him, “Jonathan….Jonathan….Jonathan…

JONATHAN!”

Back at the Lounge, or more likely, outside the Lounge, Bruce meets up with Selina who is walking along the rooftop.

The conversation that commences between them, how can I put it? It’s probably one of the most Batman talking to Catwoman and Selina Kyle talking back to Bruce Wayne thing I have ever seen.

Bruce apologizes for snapping at Selina the way he did back at the hospital. Selina plays coy and insists that she can’t hear him unless he comes to the edge of the roof with her. Bruce walks along the ledge with no problem, which impresses Selina. The reunion of star-crossed vigilantes is interrupted by Alfred who informs Bruce that there is a situation building inside.

The gang of hicks, you know, as AMAZINGLY SUBTLE AS THEY ARE, managed to get caught by Penguin and Zsasz and are brought out in the party as an example of criminals without licenses. How if the GCPD and people like the hicks continue, no one is safe. Bruce steps up to Penguin and asks what he plans to do with those criminals. With a quick tilt of the head and a smile, Oswald insures that he has nothing to be concerned with regarding that particular subject.

This angers the already scorned Ivy Pepper (Maggie Geha) and she sneaks off to find the main power switch and shut the party down.

The sudden blackout causes people to panic and, using that panic to their advantage, the gang of hicks sprays Oswald Cobblepot with the fear toxin, causing him to hallucinate a monstrous version of Edward Nygma coming back to life.

Honestly, when I first saw the image of hallucination Edward, it kinda reminded me of those reptile-like people you see in those Believe It Or Not books.

With Jim, Bullock, Alfred, and Zsasz trying to find and fight the hicks, Grady manages to get away. A quivering and distraught Oswald is left grasping onto Jim Gordon, suffering the devastating effects of the fear toxin.

The next night, in full mask and overcoat, Bruce manages to get the list of other criminals with licenses. (Also, in a very Batman-like way). On a rooftop, Bruce accidentally comes upon a robbery in progress. As he leans in closer on the window overlooking the scene, the structure breaks and Bruce falls into the building. In a hurry, the burglars leave. Sirens can be seen and heard from the outside, leaving Bruce being caught without his mask.

Back at the Crane House, Grady to get more of the fear toxin from Jonathan. He goes to the closet and calls out for him, “Jonathan! Hey, Crane!”

Only a distorted voice answers back.

“Jonathan Crane isn’t here anymore.”

Grady adjusts his eyes to the horror, the creature inside the closet where Jonathan Crane once was. A hemp-like material stretched, wrapped, and sewed around him like skin. Spikes of straw seeping out of his body. Two dark circles with a glowing white hue stare straight at Grady.

“IT’S JUST THE SCARECROW!”

PHEW! There was a lot stuff going on in this premiere!

First off: it was a very well shot episode and a very, VERY well written episode. Even though, with some episodes, when Gotham puts so much in an episode, it does feel rushed and too busy. This episode did not. Yes, there was lot going on, but the pacing of both the dialogue and action was very well done.

THINGS I LIKED:

I think I can speak for the majority for the Gotham audience when I say,

“Yes! Victor Zsasz! Yes!”

Anthony Carrigan brings so much weight to a character in the Batman comics that isn’t very well known. I absolutely love Carrigan’s approach to Zsasz. His brand of crazy and psychotic reality is very evident in his speech, his movement; Do not misunderstand, the character of Zsasz in both Gotham and in the comics is as insane and threatening, but in Gotham, this Zsasz doesn’t need to go full crazy with his tally marks and constant need for liberation. Carrigan plays at Victor Zsasz’s madness like he had a mesh lid on it. He doesn’t just bombard the audience with crazy all the time, but now and again, the sadistic killer seeps through and you can tell that Anthony Carrigan is loving every minute of it and so are we.

I would like to see more scars on Zsasz, or have them continue some focus on the tally marks on his body like they did in the first season. I think it would be cool if we could intermittently see more and more tallies accumulate.

I love what they did with Jonathan Crane and I love what Charlie Tahan did with him too. Well done. And I’m not just saying this cause Scarecrow is one of my top ten favorite Batman villains. His transformation into the Scarecrow, I really liked too. His fear, his hallucination, his own boogeyman completely consumed what was left of Jonathan Crane. When he said “Jonathan Crane isn’t here anymore”, he actually means it. I have got to give major props to the writers for doing so much and doing it so well with Jonathan in just ONE episode. I can’t wait to see what Scarecrow has up his newly parchment sleeve.

It is so nice and refreshing to see Oswald Cobblepot go back to being a crime boss and back to being the Penguin. Creating a system of unionized crime that is legal in a way that actually makes sense, getting the Mayor of Gotham and the commissioner of the police department to agree to this system, take a part in it, and look the other way, stealing the Sirens’ Club and making it his infamous Iceberg Lounge, parading his defeat of the Riddler and making it seem like he’s helping a friend with a rare brain disease (freaking hilarious by the way. He just had that story teed up and ready to go), cutting down the crime rate by 57%, and doing all this while keeping a smile on his face and having an answer and response for anything that comes his way.

I also enjoyed his little moment of vulnerability as he had a private talk with himself and the green popsicle. “Which one of us is really frozen?” Quite the ponder.

Of course, seeing Bruce getting more comfortable in being a vigilante, but not quite Batman yet, is always a treat. I spazzed out like such a nerd during his talk with Jim Gordon and how he left the conversation before it was over. Just the whole conversation was such a Gordon/Batman moment.

I did like the conversation between Bruce and Selina. It was very coy and it had such undertone to it.

Basically any moment with Harvey Bullock is awesome.

THINGS I DID NOT LIKE:

If I had a dollar for every time Selina had the attitude of “You don’t know anything about me”, I could afford to go see IT in theaters as much as I damn well please.

Those hicks…….seriously?

As a member of the awesome group called Gotham Addicts, (look them up on Facebook and Twitter, they’re awesome) I asked some good friends of mine in that group to give their take on the episode. And boy, oh, boy, do they have thoughts. They have thoughts, opinions, likes, dislikes, and theories. Check out what these awesome peeps had to say about the episode and on things even I didn’t notice:

“Predictions for Penguin...I feel he will be the one to thaw out Ed. The fear gas will drive him to it to possibly make the scary Ed go away. He might free him. He's the only one who knows how; through Victor Freis. I also feel the fear gas will be used on Bruce, which will be leading to his "BAT" moment and making him Batman.

The show moved at a nice pace. Didn't even realize the time flew by. It left you wanting so much more. I love the fact they jumped right into the story. It didn't need a painful build up. It was good seeing Harvey be Harvey. He got to be heroic before, now he's back to himself and leaving all the rebel cop stuff to Gordon. It was great seeing Gordon, being the cop and not saving the world. I always enjoy the interactions between Gordon and Harvey.

As for the Penguin: It was good to see him return to his old gangster self at the end of season 3...But now he's a huge crime boss and in charge. This is the Penguin he was meant to be. The scene in the mayor's office was the perfect example of his cold calculating mind and his sheer powerful presence. They couldn't disagree. He made it impossible for them to do so...by his speech. God Bless America...and then the mayor smiled. Awesome scene.

The private moment with his trophy. Or Edward. That was deeper than most think. The “who is really frozen” comment and that look. You can see the warmth that still flickers in his cold heart. The sad sob story about why Ed was in ice and the way he played the heartstrings of his crowd. Damn he's so masterful at manipulating people. A gift. It’s simply a gift.

All the scenes between Penguin and Gordon were classic. Penguin is the hero Gotham NEEDS...Gordon is the Hero they WANT...The news reporters ate up every fact that Penguin threw at them and Gordon still held his ground. The tension between them is just amazing stuff. The ending where after the Penguin calls out the GCPD for being useless and HE was the only one that can save Gotham, then him being hit with the fear gas. Who does Penguin run to? Gordon to save him... just made the whole scene go off the chart when you think of how those in the crowd and readers of the news are feeling.

Even though I didn’t care for the cowboy criminals, I did love the reintroduction of Crane and then Scarecrow...that Warden, what a piece of work...still felt it was rushed compared to the other storylines. The battle of Gordon with the other cops and Harvey about doing the job they were hired to do. Felt like old times. Good times. It's refreshing to see the show get out of the freaks/virus theme and back to go old crime ridden city.”

- S. Howard

“As a fan of Gotham and Batman overall, I'm excited to see these characters finally developing into the Batman characters that we know and love. Bruce is on a mission to save Gotham while also giving this businesslike demeanor when talking to people such as Gordon or Penguin. Selina is bringing cat woman to life with the famous whip play and her cat like reflexes. As for surprised in the episode I was a bit shocked when Ivy betrayed Penguin in a small way and turned out the lights in the nightclub, giving the “Outlores” the advantage to attack Penguin. Although, now that I think about it, her actions were understandable. Penguin has been cold and calculating for the past six months and has probably been very snappy with her. The poor girl is only going to take so much of his abuse. As for Penguin himself, he has taken Gotham city by the throat and refuses to let go. The city is his giant playground with him issuing legal licenses for crime and all. I actually had an "awe" moment when he was standing in the Iceberg Lounge talking to Edward Nygma, who is still encased in ice. To me, that scene showed that he still misses Edward and the talks they used to share. I still have hopes that the two will make amends and be friends again.....or maybe more. Although, Penguin's going to have to get past that frightening image of Ed from the fear toxin. This season started off with a bang, and things are only going to get crazier from here. I'm buckling my seat belt and hanging on for dear life because this is going to be one hell of a ride!

It was just little things I noticed when I watched that scene again. First off, the smoke in the background was turning into question marks and the little question marks protruding from Edward's head. This obviously represents the Ed's obsession with riddles and puzzles. As the nightmare sequence progresses, you see that Edward's face becomes distorted and the background turns hazy.....almost like Oswald is gazing at him from underwater, leading back to the point when Edward shot Oswald and tossed him in the river. This could very well be Oswald's greatest fear because it was a point where closest to actually dying......had it not been for Ivy saving him later, and since his "resurrection," Edward's attempted to kill him multiple times and every time, Oswald has escaped.....sometimes within an inch of his life. I believe that nightmare sequence is showing us that Oswald's greatest fear is that Edward will eventually thaw out of the ice and will this time succeed in killing him.”

- Megan R.

Overall, I’d give this episode a 9.8 out of 10

Well, that was one heck of an episode. I don’t think I have much more to say except:

See you next time.

And as always, Stay weird Gotham.

#Gotham (TV series)#Gotham Recap #Gotham

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feekins · 8 years ago

Text

Apropos of Wet Pavement

A Nygmobblepot Fanfiction

SUMMARY: Nothing can spoil Oswald’s good mood the evening he picks up Ed from Arkham Asylum…..well, almost nothing. A one-shot to the tune of 5,800+ words containing hurt/comfort, many stomach butterflies, benign invasion of personal space, one worksafe bathtub scene, and a particularly perturbed and petulant Penguin.

My third and longest piece I’ve written for this fandom. Please enjoy! Comments and critiques are always welcome! :D

------------------------------

It hurts when it rains - not every time, not always immediately, but often enough to be considered a pattern and a nuisance. It must have something to do with pressure changes, he thinks. When the weather takes a turn for the dreary, it’s only a matter of time until that telltale twinge starts up again. Sometimes it’s a simple, constant ache. Other times, there’s this awful sharpness to it that’s so unlike any of Oswald’s usual muscle pains in that leg, the soreness that comes with his unnatural way of walking. Out of nowhere, it pierces through him, and that’s when he knows it’s going to be another one of Those Days.

Mind you, Gotham’s newest politician can push through the pain just fine. He’s been doing it to some capacity all his life. That occasional sudden stab is something else, though. It’s unpredictable, cropping up at any time of day and lingering anywhere from mere minutes to several hours….and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Of course, it’s the last thing on his mind the evening he picks up Ed from Arkham.

Soft, planing splashes as the limousine barrels through puddles. The larger ones pull slightly at the tires, but for the most part, such great patches of standing water are few and far between on this particular route. It’s all background noise to Oswald, all in one ear and out the other. He’s restless in his seat, legs crossed tight, fingers ever fidgeting and shifting their grip on his cane. One might mistake it for nervous energy if not for the wide, barely-contained smile on his face.

“This is it.”

No reply; Aside from him, the back seats are empty. While the Penguin still has his eyes out the window, the outside world does not quite register to him. Back alleys, decrepit stoops, brick buildings of all shapes and sizes roll by unseen. Oswald gives a brief squirm, lets out a happy little hum, swept up as he is in his own fervent anticipation.

Getting closer left turn then straight to the gates closer yes soon.

“My dear friend is finally coming home!”

It feels so good, so reaffirming to say it aloud, even if there’s no one there to hear him. Just having those words flow from his mouth makes the situation and its immediacy that much more real to him. Oswald really is moments away from seeing Ed again - only this time, there will be no fences, no guards, no distant din of the deranged. At long last, Ed will be a free man.

Free…

The smile fades, if minutely, tightens and thins. Memories of his own release from Arkham flutter unbidden before his mind’s eye. The happy, naïve daze. His torment at the hands of Butch and Tabitha. Visiting Ed at his apartment… Oswald doesn’t blame him for ultimately turning him away. If he’s honest with himself, he knows he would have done the same. Ed’s current predicament is very different from that, though. For one thing, he is perfectly sane - as opposed to the ruined, pathetic state Professor Strange had left Oswald in. For another, his friend simply cannot turn him away to fend for himself. By now, the green-bathed studio apartment they both know and love has likely long been in the hands of a new tenant. Oswald knows nothing about Ed’s parents, but he feels it’s safe to assume it’s unlikely he would receive any assistance from them.

Without Oswald, Ed has nothing. That much is plain to see.

He needs to get back on his feet. He needs to be in a stable environment where he can reestablish himself. He needs a home. Oswald is more than happy to provide that. They’re such good friends, and it’s not like they haven’t shared a living space before. Besides, there’s plenty of room at the mansion, too much for one man. Ed should be able to settle in most comfortably.

Familiar buildings loom ahead. They grab Oswald’s attention, pull him from his reverie, and a new burst of excitement courses through him. By the time the limousine pulls up to the gates, it’s reached a fever pitch, manifesting as a fluttering in his stomach, jittering in joyful anticipation. Two figures stand outside, one just inside the gate and one outside of it. It’s all he can do not to throw the car door open then and there. Instead, Oswald quickly moves to shuffle closer to it, uncrossing his legs and pushing away with his feet.

It’s been a long day. The soreness is to be expected. The sharp pang through his ankle isn’t. A sudden intake of breath through his nose and a grimace, but the Penguin is undeterred. More shuffling and he’s at the window, rolling it down, then using his good leg to half-stand, thrusting his head and shoulders out into the cool night air. How his face hasn’t split in two from how hard he’s grinning is beyond him.

“Hello, old friend!”

And now, it’s real.

Right there before the wrought-iron gate, Ed smiles warmly back at him. He’s free, officially sane, out of those horrid black and white stripes, and…….yes, that’s definitely the sweater Oswald sent him, and it aches how incredibly happy his heart is at this realization. He doesn’t wait for Ed’s approach. The man has barely taken two steps before Oswald’s opening the door, beckoning enthusiastically, “Come, come! No reason to stay any longer than we need to!”

The grin Ed gives him in response is breathtaking.

“Agreed.”

One last look over his shoulder at the now-closed gate, at the meek old head of the asylum’s retreating back, then Ed closes the distance between him and the car, sliding into the seat directly across from his excited benefactor. By the time the door is closed, he’s already falling back into the habit of forgetting the concept of personal space. At one time, it was off-putting, but now, the way Ed leans in and clasps the other’s hands in his is more than welcome.

“I don’t know how you did it, but thank you, Oswald.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about!” All sweet words and light, feigned innocence. Then, as he too leans forward, his tone shifts and his hands clasp back. “But it is truly a delight to see you, Ed, and to have you back in the real world!”

A slight lurch as the limousine rolls into a slow three-point turn. The larger of the two pairs of hands briefly squeezes before releasing and retreating to their owner’s lap.

“I’m glad to be here.”

Another lurch, and the limousine finally pulls away, putting Arkham Asylum behind them for good - God willing, of course.

“You’d been in that wretched place long enough,” Oswald nods. “Too long, to be honest, but I count our blessings. I’m only sorry I didn’t do this soo-”

Ed cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t be. Even if Professor Strange had allowed it, it would have looked suspicious and…likely worked against your public image and reputation. And bad press is the last thing you need right now, no?”

“No indeed,” Oswald all but beams. For the umpteenth time this ride, he squirms in his seat for a second, just enough to get comfortable and shake off a little of the giddy restlessness…right as the car rolls over a pothole. The resulting jolt goes straight to Oswald’s right foot. Right on cue, another stab laces through his ankle and lower leg. He only just manages to bite back a sharp gasp.

“Oswald?”

So that’s how it’s going to be - not one-and-done, but persistent. And now Ed’s giving him this look, mouth troubled, brow creased. The sharp pain in his ankle recedes into a dull but deep, inexplicable soreness, like sensitive teeth after a sip of ice water. Oswald shifts again, bringing up his mal-aligned foot to cross and rest casually atop his left leg. As he does so, he’s sure to flash Ed a disarming smile.

“Yes?”

No answer at first. Part of him hates the way Ed’s eyes bore into his own in the silence. Lovely as they are, they’re too critical, too perceptive. It’s like they’re strip-searching him from the inside out, but for what? Fortunately, it’s over in an instant. Ed shakes his head and his expression relaxes, save for a growing smirk - one that’s all too familiar.

Oswald knows exactly what’s coming.

“Work with or without me, whichever you pick. Success is assured if to me you stick. What am I?”

A chuckle, then, “I have no idea.”

“…Are you sure you don’t want to take a guess?”

“Out with it, Edward!”

“Plan! It’s a plan,” comes Ed’s gleeful answer, “something which you obviously have, or else I’d still be staring at a gray wall. So, my friend… Care to fill me in?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Despite the pain lingering in his foot, Oswald can’t help but grin back.

No. He’s not going to let his stupid leg ruin this night.

——————————

The rest of the ride back to the mansion is blessedly uneventful, their time spent catching up with one another and conspiring. Absorbed as they are in their conversation, it comes as a surprise to both of them when, at long last, a lackey pulls the door open for them. Ed peers out…and right away, his eyebrows rise.

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was a mansion.”

There’s another little fluttering within Oswald as he watches Ed’s expression fill with an almost childlike wonder. He could sit here forever, he thinks, just drinking in his dear friend’s quiet awe. Ed must not get out of the city very often. Part of Oswald wonders just how much of his life he’s spent amidst all those skyscrapers, walking those busy streets, breathing that thick, smoggy air. Then again, such industrialism suits Ed. The old apartment had been a testament to that. Out here, it’s as if he’s stepped into a different world. The way Ed goggles up at the mansion before him, it’s as if he’s gazing upon some old English castle.

“It meets your expectations, I hope?” The Penguin grins coyly.

“Not at all, actually…” With that, Ed turns back to him, looking just as playful. “I’m sorry, Oswald, but your descriptions of it do not do it justice.”

Pride swells in his chest, pride and warmth towards the man before him. It only intensifies when Ed then gestures toward the door.

“After you!”

“No, no,“ Oswald waves, “go on, I insist!”

Ed doesn’t need to be told twice. Certificate of sanity and meager belongings in hand, he steps out and away to take in as much of the mansion’s perennial grandeur and charm as possible. Oswald follows suit…and the regret hits instantly.

“Ah-!”

No sooner than his foot taps down on the rain-slick driveway, the stabbing pain is back, and it’s so much worse now that he’s put his full weight on it. On the inside, Oswald is mortified, hyper-aware of the two sets of eyes suddenly fixed so intently on him, following his every move.

“Boss…?”

“Are you alright?”

But Oswald, stubborn as he is, is already out of the car. He can see the concern written all over Ed’s face as clear as day, and in his peripheral, the nameless lackey is a little closer, reaching out to help. Something about it all sets off a little spark of fury within him.

“Fine!” Oswald snaps, all but slapping helpful hands aside. “Just. Fine.”

He doesn’t care if they buy it or not. Gripping his cane a little tighter, he moves forward, stone-faced against the shooting pain that comes with every other step. The lackey retreats, and he hears the car door closing behind him. Smart man.

Ed, on the other hand, trails after Oswald, following a little too closely. It’s grating now, only making his annoyance and self-consciousness spike.

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Not another word is spoken between them as they head inside. By now, the mansion is near-empty, all but a handful of bodyguards having retreated to their respective homes for the evening. Silence surrounds them, broken only by their own footsteps and the errant creaks and groans of the building’s age. It’s a wonder Oswald’s troublesome joints aren’t doing similar. Needless to say, he decides against the full house tour he’d been planning earlier. Besides, all Ed really needs to see tonight is his personal quarters. Such a shame, though; He’d really been looking forward to sitting down and catching up further over tea…

“I’ll show you to your room.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out so clipped. Nettlesome though his too-close presence is, Ed is hardly deserving of his ire at the moment.

“…by all means, lead the way.”

No sooner than his friend replies, Oswald makes a beeline for the stairway - and if looks could kill, the whole damn thing would be on fire right now. As it is, it endures his stare down. It’s mocking him, but he is not so easily defeated, even as he pauses at its very feet. To be honest, he does have half a mind to ask Ed for assistance…..but unfortunately, the other, more stubborn half of him wins out.

Just get it over with…

With a deep breath, Oswald steels himself and starts climbing. It’s a miserable process, to say the least. His ankle twinges dreadfully. He can feel his knee creaking in protest. Thank goodness he has such little distance left to walk today - and thank goodness the pain isn’t getting any worse. Awful though it is, it’s something he can live with a little longer, long enough to wash up and get to bed. Those promises serve as his motivation, driving him to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Then, barely halfway up the stairs, a strong arm snakes around Oswald’s back and under his arm. He nearly jumps out of his skin, feels his cane slip, but then Ed’s beside him, all but half-supporting, half-carrying him.

“What’re you-?!”

“Right, I think that’s enough of that, Mr. Penguin!”

“Unhand me this instant!”

“I’m sorry, Oswald. I’m afraid I can’t do that!” Adjusting - no, tightening his hold on him, Ed adds, “You know, there’s no harm in asking for help.”

“I don’t need help,” Oswald bites out indignantly, and yet… Despite his anger and reluctance, he finds himself leaning against, putting his trust in the warm body beside him all the same.

It doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Don’t you?”

When he makes the mistake of glancing up for a particularly resentful glower, he’s met with none other than that infuriating smile Ed gets when he knows he’s right about something. Just as Oswald’s about to protest further, his friend cuts him off with, “Your leg’s been bothering you all night. In the car, before my plan riddle? You flinched.”

“I did not-!”

“And that was a cry of pain when you were getting out of the car. Also, your limp is obviously worse! You’re leaning on your cane much more than usual. You are dragging your foot more than usual. You look incredibly unstable…”

Now, Oswald begins to feel convicted. With every point he’s made thus far, Ed’s tone has gradually shifted from self-satisfied to brutally honest and firm. It’s the same tone he’d used back at the apartment when he’d explained why the injured Penguin needed to lie low and recover. His friend is right and they both know it. Oswald’s about ready to concede defeat just as they come upon the last stair, but…

“…and for someone who claims to be fine, you’re being awfully defensive.”

With a huff, he pulls away from the taller man the moment they step onto the landing. It’s a shaky move, one that has Ed taking his arm to help steady him - and damn it all, even now, he can’t make himself pull away. The next thing Oswald knows, he’s being steered down the hallway, and he releases a long-suffering sigh.

“Ed, what are you doing now?”

“Change of plans. I’ll take you to your bedroom, then you can tell me where mine is.”

“That won’t be necessary, I can-”

“Oswald.”

Ed stops them dead in their tracks. The Penguin can feel him trying to seek out his eyes and defiantly keeps his head down in response. It’s so childish of him, he knows this. He almost expects Ed to force his chin up…but he does no such thing.

“Oswald.”

Damn it all, he can’t not meet the other’s steady gaze. Ed’s entirely too earnest, too understanding in this moment, even before he continues, “You don’t have to tell me what’s really going on. Just whether or not there’s anything I can do.”

It takes a surprising amount of effort to force down the inexplicable guilt and vexation, and even more not to look away. Oswald swallows, licks his lips.

“No. I can take care of it myself.”

The other’s expression is unreadable.

“I mean it. Leave it alone, Ed.”

At long last, a slow smile - one that Oswald isn’t sure he trusts - breaks the spell. “Very well! I’m still helping you to your room, though.”

Oswald doesn’t even try to hold back a loud grumble. He lets Ed pull him along just another few steps, until for the sake of pettiness, he replies, “Then you might want to turn around, because we just walked right past it.”

“….Of course.”

A pause, then a pivot, and Ed helps him back to the ornate door to the master bedroom.

Let it not be said that Oswald hadn’t been able to get in the final insult.

——————————

The mirror is completely fogged up by the time Oswald slips into the tub. With a drawn-out sigh, he sinks down until the faintly pink water laps at his ears, luxuriating in the warmth that envelopes him. Already, the mess of stiff muscles all up and down his bad leg begins to unravel. If only it could have the same effect on his mind. Tired blue eyes flutter open. A faint scowl creases Oswald’s brow. He sits up, hunches over slightly, pulls his left leg up to rest his chin atop his knee. Before him, one hand cuts through the water just below the surface. Rosy particles swirl and dance, foam twists and curls. After a moment, his scowl deepens. A hand comes up, up out of the water…….then splashes down through the middle of the spectacle.

Tonight, not even a bath can distract this Penguin from his brooding.

It’s not often that Oswald finds himself questioning his own actions. He’s always so self-assured, so passionate, throwing himself so completely into all that he does. His own emotions sweep him up so easily, and sometimes this gets him into trouble, but never anything that’s insurmountable. Tonight is no different.

His foot is the source of his sour mood. That much is obvious. As he reviews this conclusion, Oswald releases his leg and slips down low in the water again, stretching across the full length of the tub. A moment’s hesitation, and then he gives his right foot an experimental push against the tub wall. Shooting pain, as piercing as the first time earlier that evening. He hisses, then sputters, having accidentally drawn a bit of water in between his teeth. Coughing as he pulls himself upright again, Oswald shakes his head, wet bangs slapping at his temples.

Stupid.

It hurts, but it’s not much different from the muscle aches that plague him daily. He can deal with it. He knows he can. Why can’t they see that? Anger boils up inside of Oswald, rises like bubbles in a flute of sparkling champagne. His mind first flashes to the man who’d opened the limousine door, who’d tried to grab him when he’d stepped out. The brazen fool was lucky his boss hadn’t just lopped off those offending hands then and there. And Ed…

Out whistles a sullen breath, anger turning to irresolute bewilderment. Ed is his friend. Why in the world is Oswald mad at him? It feels as if it should be so instinctively obvious, but as he racks his mind, the reasoning behind the rage eludes him. Ed really hasn’t done anything wrong. From their arrival at the mansion, Ed has only shown concern for his wellbeing - and for whatever reason, this grates on him.

With both hands, the Penguin gathers up as much foam as he can hold. So fluffy, so fragrant, glistening so prettily in the light…until Oswald brings his hands together and squeezes the foam between his fingers, letting it dribble down his arms and back into the water. This shouldn’t be an issue, not after all they’ve been through, after how far they’ve come. Ed has seen Oswald at his very lowest and subsequently helped him in countless ways. For that, he is grateful. But this…? Somehow, this feels like too much. It’s stifling and thus infuriating because he doesn’t want that from Ed, doesn’t want him to give him that look of…

…oh.

Something within him sinks. Oswald scowls again, draws his left leg back up and hugs it to his chest. That fluttering feeling in his stomach has returned, but this time, it’s uneasy. It eats at his core, vindicates him so cruelly.

The epiphany comes out soft, barely above a whisper.

“…I don’t want him to pity me.”

It’s irrational - no, it’s completely stupid. So what if Ed’s worried? Why should such a thing bother him? Why should Oswald Cobblepot care? His scowl deepens, his arms tighten around his leg. He’s strong, unrelenting, unshakable. His earlier show of anger had been completely justified, he thinks. He had to show them he was capable, not fragile. He’s the goddamn kingpin of Gotham’s underworld! He can take care of himself! They all need to know that!

But Ed isn’t another henchman or business partner. He’s always been so much more than that. Over the past year or so, he’s become so close, so dear. He knows him in ways no one else ever has before, and he accepts him for who and what he is. Perhaps that’s why the thought of Ed pitying him hurts Oswald so.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there curled in on himself. He’s far too busy mulling everything over, just barely paying attention to how the foam around him gradually dissipates. When at last his mind comes back down to Earth, Oswald is surprised to find himself shivering: The bath water is practically lukewarm.

He’s never washed up so quickly, nor has he ever been so eager to pull the plug.

The pity, though… It nags at him, poisons his thoughts as he clambers out of the tub and goes through the motions of drying off, ever cautious of how he moves his bad leg and foot. Suppose Ed does pity Oswald. It throws their whole friendship into a different light, doesn’t it? All those times he’s helped him out, tended to both his broken body and tormented mind…all because he’s felt bad for him? It’s an awful realization, one that makes Oswald feel distantly sick, because if Ed’s only stuck around because he feels sorry for him…

The force with which Oswald scrubs his towel over his head is completely unnecessary for the simple act of drying his hair. When at last he abandons his towel, his hair stands up every which way, a reflection of his troubled state of mind. Maybe…it had been a mistake to help Ed out of Arkham Asylum, if that’s how he really felt about Oswald. That thought hurts worse than his leg as he limps out into the bedroom. To his exasperation, it seems a long, hot soak isn’t sufficient treatment for tonight’s aches and pains. Oswald’s knee still feels stiff, his foot taut, his ankle laced with that piercing twinge. It’s enough to elicit from him an actual whine before he finally reaches the bed and seats himself on the edge.

Nope, he thinks, snatching up his pajamas, folded so neatly down by the footboard. I’m not dealing with any more of this tonight. Not Ed, not the pain, not-

A gentle knocking at the bedroom door cuts through the silence. Thinking his mind is playing tricks on him, Oswald decides to ignore it and goes back to pulling his boxers and pants the rest of the way up his hips.

The knocking resumes, a little louder this time.

“…Oswald? Oswald? Are you still awake?”

“…..oh, to hell with it.”

Grumbling under his breath, the Penguin shrugs on his silk night shirt and grabs his cane from where it’s propped up against the nightstand. The world is all bent against him tonight, he just knows it. Within seconds - terrible, agonizing seconds - Oswald is wrenching the door open, glare in place, lips pressed together in a tight, thin line.

“I said leave it alone. Didn’t you hear me?”

The smart little grin on Ed’s face makes Oswald want to scream.

“I did! I just decided not to listen. Your leg isn’t still bothering you, is it?“

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.” The shorter of the two shifts in the doorway, hoping against hope his friend doesn’t notice the way he winces before putting all his weight on his good leg. Ed’s brow creases, and with that, Oswald regrets getting up and answering the door, feeling his already low spirits sink a little lower.

Please don’t give me that look…

“I see. May I come in?”

Somehow, he still can’t refuse him. Making a show of rolling his eyes, he steps away, leaving Ed to let himself in. It’s terrible how guarded, how wary Oswald feels right now. He shouldn’t be feeling this way, not around Ed, but the new doubts linger. Biting the inside of his cheek at the ever-present aches and the shooting pain, he beats a slow, wobbly retreat to his bed. He doesn’t have to look to know the other man is right on his tail.

“So tell me, my friend,” Oswald announces sardonically as he settles back down on the mattress and turns a leery eye to his pursuer, “What part of ‘I can take care of it’ do you not understand?”

“Oh, I understand completely; However, considering the circumstances, I have to disagree.”

Oswald narrows his eyes and doesn’t even try to hold back an incensed scoff. Ed takes a seat near the foot of the bed - this time, giving the other a little space. He sets something down beside him, but Oswald isn’t paying attention to it. Ed’s brow furrows, and he presses, “Oswald, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. There is nothing wrong with not wanting help.”

“And why is it that you don’t want help?”

“Because this isn’t the same as last time, Ed!”

He isn’t helpless, damn it. He doesn’t need coddling. The mere thought of it makes Oswald’s mouth curl into a sneer, practically daring Ed to just try it. Ed visibly retreats, straightens his back a little as he carefully considers his reply. It takes another moment for the confusion in his eyes to clear.

“You’re referring…to the time you recuperated at my apartment.”

“Yes.”

“I fail to see how that’s relevant to our current situation.”

Ed sounds so honest, so endlessly patient, it makes Oswald feel guilty, but he’s too caught up in his own frustration to even think of backpedaling now.

“Then allow me to elaborate,” he snarls. “When you found me, I was dying. I could not help myself. Now, as you can plainly see, I am neither of those things! This isn’t a gunshot wound to the back, Ed, this is something I am perfectly capable of managing on my own!”

“I understand that.”

“Then what are you doing here?!”

“I’m here to offer whatever help I can because you have been obviously hurting all evening and I am concerned.”

“Don’t be! I don’t want your pity!”

The moment the words fall from his mouth, Oswald’s tirade comes to a screeching halt. Alarmed, distantly hurt, Ed stares back at him. It makes Oswald much too self-conscious. Suddenly, he realizes he’s leaning in towards Ed as if seconds away from physically lashing out, his fists tightly balled in the duvet beneath him. And Ed… Dark eyes are locked on his, steady and searching and then understanding.

In that moment, Oswald feels so terribly small and vulnerable, like a baby bird moments away from being plucked from its nest by human hands.

“….pity?”

Oswald’s eyes drop to his lap. Maybe if he doesn’t say anything, Ed will let it go…

“Oswald? Is that what this is about?”

But now Ed’s leaning in to seek out his eyes. Oswald bristles at the sudden closeness but makes no move to draw away. He licks his lips even while his mouth is suddenly dry, then mumbles, “Maybe. Partially.”

No response. When at last he chances a fleeting glance upward, Oswald can see, practically hear the gears turning in the other man’s head. The silence is all the more unbearable for it.

And then, those brown eyes are locked on his once more, and the smile Ed offers him is small but encouraging.

“Well. In any case, I brought ice and a hot water bottle - whichever you need most.” He takes the items at his side, briefly lifting each one in turn for Oswald to see. Ed shuffles a little closer as he continues, “And… If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to take a look for myself. At your leg. Just to make sure it isn’t something serious.”

“Trust me, it isn’t.”

“Can I double-check? I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“I don’t think it can be fixed.”

“We’ll see what we can do.”

Ed’s too reassuring, too willing to help. It doesn’t banish all uneasiness from Oswald’s mind, but…

At a loss, Oswald lets out a blustery sigh and flops back against his many pillows. The awful doubts remain, the fear that his friend merely pities him, among other insecurities…and yet, part of him still desperately wants to trust, to let Ed in. Another part wishes to go back to being petulant about the whole thing.

And so, the Penguin makes a compromise.

“So, how are we doing this, Doctor Nygma?” Without waiting for a reply, Oswald draws both of his legs up onto the bed, grabs his waistband, and promptly shimmies out of his pajama pants.

It doesn’t have the desired effect on his friend.

“…That was hardly necessary,” Ed snorts, eyebrow raised in amusement. Undeterred, he moves in closer, now cross-legged before the smaller man, and reaches out to help work the other’s right foot free of the pant leg bunched up around it.

“I’d say the same thing about this, yet here we are.”

“And here we are. Show me where it hurts?”

There’s nothing remarkable about Ed’s examination, yet Oswald eventually finds himself paying attention to every detail, to all his friend does. Ed is careful, methodical, murmuring apologies whenever he moves his foot in a way that makes him flinch.

“…bone spur from a healed fracture, most likely. It could be part of why your foot’s turned this way, depending on what broke and the angle at which it healed…”

The smaller patient isn’t listening. Oswald’s mind drifts as a thumb smooths over the misshapen bump of his ankle. Large, warm hands continue to manipulate the limb. Fingers gently probe, trace curves of strained muscle. He doesn’t realize he’s being spoken to until Ed repeats himself, prompting him to look up like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Oswald. Why would I think you’re pitiful?”

His stomach clenches. Doubt, fear, hurt, all simmering deep within him, gnawing away at his insides all over again. Oswald doesn’t answer at first, but Ed doesn’t press the matter. He doesn’t tear his eyes from his, either.

After a moment, he lifts the foot in his hand. “Because of this?”

“…you’re always helping me so much,” Oswald murmurs at last. He shifts, fidgets, but unlike earlier, it’s all nerves. There’s that feeling again, that terrible vulnerability. It makes him want to clam right up. But the way Ed’s watching him, listening, and the unexpected softness of his expression and words, it drives him to continue.

“I’m grateful for…all of it. For you. But you’re too kind.” A forced chuckle, then, “No one’s that kind for no reason. I’m not that kind-”

“If that were true, I’d still be in Arkham. Or did you arrange for my early release out of pity?”

The idea is so absurd, Oswald can’t help but gape. “Of course not!”

“Then why?”

“Because I need you, Ed!”

It feels like the most indisputable, the most obvious of facts, and yet…..dear God, why is his heart racing? Why does he feel fit to burst into flame at any second? Why won’t that damn fluttering in his stomach stop?

Ed releases his foot. Oswald doesn’t remember when they’d moved to sit so close together - any closer and he’d be in his friend’s lap. Somehow, though, it isn’t at all obtrusive or uncomfortable, and Ed’s face is bright, warm as those gentle hands.

“I need you too, Oswald. My motivation is the same as it was the day I took you in. In some ways.”

Time stands still. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt this close to Ed - this moment simply doesn’t measure up to anything else they’ve shared before. Oswald feels impossibly light, almost giddy as he breathes, “What ways?”

“I still admire you. I still want to learn from you. But also, I’d like to continue being your friend for as long as possible.”

An immeasurable weight is lifted off Oswald’s shoulders, a weight he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying. The doubt is gone, along with the feelings of insecurity. He feels so happy, he can only grin so wide that his cheeks begin to ache. That happiness is contagious, it seems, for Ed’s smile only grows more tender.

In the end, there’s nothing that can be done to make the stabbing pain in Oswald’s ankle go away. Neither of them is bothered by this. After all, Ed has done all that he can and so much more. His hands return to the other’s foot to gently massage, working out whatever remaining stiffness he finds. Oswald’s content to lie there and watch, his eyelids beginning to grow heavy.

It isn’t anything like the evening he’d originally planned for the two of them. Somehow, it’s more intimate, and Oswald finds he wouldn’t trade any part of it for the world - not even the pain.

#gotham #nygmobblepot #oswald cobblepot #ed nygma #edward nygma #text postan 2k17 #feekins writes sometimes #it's finally done #took me 2 damn weeks to finish but it's done #and i'm so damn proud of it fskldsfklfdslkj #nygmobblepositivity

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