#Nygmobblepot Fanficition

[rockyrants]

Life is a Cabaret- Chapter 2- So What?

Here’s chapter 2/? of my Cabaret Fanfic!  Read here on Ao3

This chapter was inspired by the second number in the musical “So What?” I recommend that you listen to that before reading this chapter. 

Chapters: 1,  2

Summary: After meeting with Oswald, he finds himself needing some accommodations if he’s going to stay.  Ed didn’t expect the show to last so long. Between drinks and milling around, people dancing the night away sprinkled with different acts, he was not expecting to spend so much time alone in the club. It was fascinating though. Ed couldn’t tear his eyes from the people around them, how they could be so carefree in this little bubble Oswald had created. It was as if the outside world didn’t exist at all.

Butch came out from a curtain that clearly led backstage and walked over to Ed, catching him mid yawn, “Don’t tell me you’re already tired.”



“I’m not,” Ed said firmly, “I just usually don’t stay up this late. That’s all.”

“Sure.” Butch motioned for him to follow, “The boss will see you now.” Ed clumsily gathered his suitcase and followed Butch back behind the stage. 



The world that Oswald had created was certainly something to behold from the audience. But backstage was another matter entirely. People were shuffling around, tying down ropes, rushing costumes back and forth behind the backdrop.



“Out of the way.” A gruff looking man barked out, shoving Ed out of the way as he was carrying a large box. Ed caught the word on the side: explosives. He stared, jaw dropped a little before Butch’s guiding hand turned him toward a staircase. 

The second floor of the cabaret was much like the first, instead of stage hands fumbling about there were musicians packing up their instruments for the end of the night. 



“Do shows always go this late?” Ed asked, looking at his watch. He followed Butch down a small hallway to a door. It was only one in the morning. 



“Late?” Butch looked at his own watch, “Kid this is early for the times we usually run. With New Year’s in a couple days you’ll see what I mean.” He knocked twice on the door, there was no answer. Butch sighed and knocked again. 

But it wasn’t Oswald who came to the door. Instead a bald, frightening looking man with a demented sort of smile answered the door. He kept it mostly closed, only his face peering out.



“I’m sorry can we help you?”



“Boss told me to bring this one up, Zsasz.” Butch jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Ed. Zsasz looked him over.



“You’re new…” Zsasz grinned. Ed immediately wanted to run for some reason. 



“If he’s busy it’s fine, really.” Ed said waving his head, voice tight and a little frightened.



“Is that Nygma?” Oswald’s voice called from inside the office, “Let him in Victor.”

Victor opened the door all the way and stepped to the side, letting Ed and Butch into the room. The office was just as well decorated as the club. Dark woods that all matched and a large window that looked onto the floor of the club. Oswald sat behind the desk, makeup still on as he scribbled something down on paper. He’d thrown some ridiculously fluffy jacket on to keep himself warm in the drafty room. 

He handed the paper to Victor, “Just take care of it, Victor.” He muttered. Zsasz walked over and took the paper from Oswald, reading it over.



“I don’t see why I can’t just put a bullet in his head and be done with it.”



“I didn’t ask you to put a bullet in his head. I asked you, very simply, to deliver a message. If you meet any resistance when it comes to getting in contact, then you can do it your way.” 



Victor tucked the piece of paper away, “Fine.” He grumbled as he walked out of the office, shutting the door behind him. 



Oswald turned his attention to Ed, “Sit.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk, turning around to file something away. Ed noticed the odd way in which he stood up, but said nothing as he took his seat, “Butch go and clear out the club. Would you?”

Butch gave a mere nod and left the two of them alone. Ed felt the heavy silence fall over the room as Butch’s footsteps echoed away from the door, “You don’t have to look so frightened of being in a room alone with me.” Oswald said, sitting back down at the desk, “Butch said you didn’t particularly mention what you were running from, Edward.”



Ed felt a chill run up his spine when Oswald said his name. 

“No, I didn’t. He could just sort of tell. I don't know how but-” 



“So what are you running from?” Ed remained silent as Oswald looked him over, “You can say it out loud. If you’ve done what I think you have I can assure you that I will not be turning you in. This is Gotham, after all, people have done far worse here.”



Ed took a deep breath, “I… I’ve started killing people.” Ed felt a rush of relief wash over him. He could breathe for the first time in days. He looked back up at Oswald and started giggling, “It feels so good to say that.” 



Oswald nodded, “How many?”



“Pardon?”



“How many people have you killed?”



“Three.” Oswald couldn’t help but scoff a little. An amateur. Ed tilted his head, “Why am I telling you all of this…” He muttered, half to himself. 



Oswald shrugged, “Usually it takes a little bit of… persuasion to get people to talk to me.” He smirked, settling back in his seat, “So what exactly do you need from us?”



“You’re willing to help me just like that?”



Oswald laughed, “Oh god, of course not.” He looked Edward over, “What do you have to offer?”



“Me? I…” He swallowed, “I mean I have.. I have some medical knowledge. I was in forensics for a little while.” He gestured to Oswald’s leg, “For example I know you could probably use a better brace on your knee than whatever sort of bandage you’re using now. It doesn’t show when you dance, but I can see you’re in pain.” 
 Oswald blinked at him and began walking around the table. He let his limp show in full, as it seemed Ed already knew about it. It had been slowly getting worse the more and more he performed, but he never mentioned it. And lord knows that absolutely no one in the show would ever dare to mention it to him. 



“Clever.” He sat on the desk right in front of Ed, "Not sure we really need a medic…” He said slowly, still mulling over the idea.



“I’m also very good at strategy. Planning. If… If you don’t have a need for me in the club maybe I could be useful with other things. Your side work perhaps?” 



“Edward I don’t think-”

“Like dealing with the person who wants to buy your club for instance.” 

Oswald barely had to think about it. He lunged at Ed, a knife pressed against his throat. Edward paled.



“What could you possibly know about that?! Did he send you? He did, didn’t he?” Oswald asked, with a laugh, “Let me make something very clear, I’m not a man who likes to be trifled with, Mr. Nygma.”



Ed gulped, doing his best not to move his head, “What? No! No! I just- you were writing very angrily when I-I came in. I n-noticed you talking to some wealthy looking people on the floor tonight. And you sent one of your more intimidating looking men, assassins, i don’t know what they are honestly, to go talk to this guy. That’s all!” His voice squeaked at the end as a bit of sweat began to bead at the back of his neck. 

Oswald tilted his head again carefully pulling the knife away. Ed let out another breath and waited for an answer. Oswald clicked the knife shut. 



“You’re more clever than I thought.” Oswald’s face broke into a smile as he walked back around to the other side of the desk. He grabbed a piece of paper, “You’ll need a place to stay I assume.”



“I don’t want to impose-”


“You’re not.” Oswald handed over a small slip of paper, “They should be able to give you accommodations there.” He said, gesturing to the address on the slip, “You just tell them that the owner of the Iceberg Lounge sent you and they’ll be more than happy to help.” Oswald settled back in his chair, “Then you can come by tomorrow and we’ll see what you can make of this work. Who knows, I may even through you onto the floor and see how you do with our customers. I can always use an extra set of eyes.”



Ed looked at the paper, “Will they be there this late?”



“I wouldn’t send you there if I didn’t think they would. if you prove useful to me I’ll move you to more comfortable accommodations but, well, you can understand why I don’t trust you as of right now.” Oswald locked eyes with Edward. The taller man found himself just staring back. Oswald raised an eyebrow, “You can go now.” He said with a small nod.



Ed shook himself out of his trance and nodded, “Right. Thank you, Mr.Penguin.” He said with a smile as he looked at the paper. 




The accommodations were small, a bit drafty. It was close enough to the club, but Ed could tell that it wasn’t exactly the best area of town. But it was a mattress beneath him and a roof over his head. A small fridge sat in the corner next to a stove with a burner that didn’t work. Ed’s stomach growled at the lack of food. He knew he should have had something to eat instead of just pounding back drinks. But that was another worry for the next day. 

It was also nice to know that he could just rest that evening without someone coming after him or knowing where he was. He could be safe there. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself. It was the first time in weeks that he hadn’t worried about someone following him. The first time that he hadn’t been constantly looking over his shoulder.



Ed rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. The world outside of the club seemed so different than the oasis that Oswald had created. He had been right when he took the stage at the beginning of the night. In the club everything was beautiful.

The next morning Ed found himself walking down the street towards the grocery store. It was a bit of a trudge and soon he found himself in a neighborhood where he couldn’t read some of the signs. It was a latin alphabet, sure, but not in any language that Ed knew how to speak. He was looking over a pineapple when the sound of a bag tearing caught his attention. 

An older woman with curly blonde hair, hands full of grocery bags, was stooping down to gather up a bunch of groceries that had fallen. 



“Oh my goodness, no, no no…” She muttered quietly to herself. Her accent was thick. Ed rushed to her side and started to help pick up the groceries.



“Here let me.” He said with a smile. The woman lifted her head and gave Edward a tight smile.



“Oh my, such a nice boy.” She said, “I thank you, very, very much. It is these bags. They are not so good any more.” 



“Looks like it.” Ed chuckled. 



“I am so sorry to ask, but would you mind helping me to carry these back? I only live a block or so away.” She asked. Her smile was so wide and welcoming that Ed, despite his best judgement to keep his head low in this town, found himself nodding.

“Sure.” 



“Oh! How wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and regathered her bags, leaving Edward to grab a fresh bag from a nearby vendor and fill it back up. The woman held out her hand, “I am Gertrude.”



“Ed.” Edward shook her hand, “Nygma.”



“Mister Nygma, you are such the gentleman.” she giggled. Ed found himself smiling as he walked with her. 

The apartment building that Gertrude led him to was a small one. Ed figured it didn’t have more than seven or so rooms. He helped Gertrude carry the groceries all the way to her small apartment up on the second floor. 

“Here we are!” Gertrude opened the door to the apartment, letting Ed in first, “Thank you so much. It is hard on my arms to carry so many groceries from the shop.” She said, “But I’m sure not for a strong boy like you.”

Ed took a moment to take in the apartment. There was lace on every table, curtains hanging in almost every doorway. There were water stains on the ceiling, but it was clear that Gertrude had done her best with what she had.



“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t lived around here very long.” He put the groceries down on the table.



“You live around here!” Gertrude said happily, “Where do you live then?” 

Ed found her positivity and openness slightly off-putting.

“Uh.. about two miles south of here. For now. I just moved here. Hopefully I’ll find something else soon.” 



Gertrude turned around, clapping her hands together, “You have no room? But this is no problem!” 

“You-“



“I am the land lady here. The finest residence in all of Gotham. We just had an opening on the third floor. One bedroom.”



Ed found himself speechless, “I can’t afford the finest residence in all of Gotham. I need something… inexpensive. I don’t really have a steady job right now.”



“Oh but this is inexpensive. Very inexpensive” Gertrude said going to a wall in the back of the apartment where a pegboard had keys. She grabbed a set. 



“Well I mean… I don’t- I don’t care if it’s awful as long as it’s cheap.”



“Oh but this is awful.” Gertrude said teasingly, “I am joking. No, no, you will love it, I promise you.” She took Ed by the arm and led him up the stairs.

Each stair creaked under their feet. Gertrude fumbled with the key for a moment before opening the door. 

The room was small, but a bed was already there. It was certainly already warmer than the place that Oswald had put him up in. There was even a dresser and a writing desk, should he need one. 

“You see, Mister Nygma.” Gertrude said with a hand flourish, “All comforts, and I even cook breakfast for our building, only one hundred dollars!”



Ed winced a little bit, “It’s very nice, Miss uh…”



“Miss Kapelput.” Gertrude said with a smile and a small curtsy. 



“Kapelput.” Ed said slowly, sounded an awful lot like Cobblepot, but surely Oswald lived somewhere more grand. Ed shook the thought from his mind, “But you don’t perchance have something cheaper? I can honestly only afford fifty.”



“But for a strong boy like you, smart boy like you. You will find a job and then they will pay you and you will pay me-”

“That’s very kind of you, but if I were to live here I could honestly only afford 50.”


Gertrude frowned just a bit, “This room is worth 100, more than 100.”



“50 is my limit.” Ed said remorsefully, “It’s alright, honestly. You’ve been more than hospitable while I’ve been here I-“



“Fifty?” Gertrude asked. Ed nodded, “Sit.” Gertrude said gesturing towards the desk, “You say 50, I say 100, a difference of 50,” She shrugged, “Why should we let that stand in our way? As long as the room’s to let, the 50 that I will get, is 50 more than I had yesterday, yes?

“When you’re as old as I, as anyone as old as I, what difference does it make? An offer comes, you take!” She shook Edward’s hand, “You know, if I like that you’re here, and I like that you’re here, Happy new year my dear!” She kissed his cheek, “The sun will rise and the moon will set, and we learn how to settle for what we get. It will all go on whether we’re here or not, so who cares?” 

Ed couldn’t help but smile, “Are you sure that fifty will be alright?” He asked.

She waved a hand, “I tell you what we shall do, you come and you help me make lunch, and I will be happy to accept fifty.” She patted his shoulder and handed him the key, “And when you get a job, perhaps you will be able to afford 100, yes?” She laughed. 



Gertrude was humming to herself as she began chopping vegetables for lunch. Ed took his time glancing around the apartment a little bit more.

He noticed a standup piano in one corner, “Do you play?” He asked, gesturing to the piano.

Gertrude tossed her head back with a laugh. 

“Oh no. My little boy plays. So elegant he is. And so talented.”



Ed paused and looked back to Gertrude, “Your son?”



Gertrude grinned, and walked over to a table next to the couch, picking up a photograph. “He is a good boy. Never in my life has he been away for too long. Comes home late, he does. Such a good boy, but he did not come home last night! Off wandering around with some painted slut no doubt!” She huffed. She handed the photograph over to Edward, “You see? So handsome, my son is.” 



“Mother!” Someone called from the front room. Ed’s ears perked up, he knew that voice. Ed looked down at the photo finally seeing a very familiar face, granted he was probably a teenager in the photo. Gertrude broke into a bright smile and wandered into the other room. 



“Oh! My little Cobblepot.” She pinched Oswald’s cheek, “So tired you look. You don’t come home last night! Why you don’t call your mother? I tell you why, you got tangled up in some hussy’s demon purse.”



Oswald waved her hand away, “Mother there was no hussy. Just business. A lot of files to take care of last night and-” Oswald stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Edward Nygma standing in his kitchen. 

Ed took in Oswald as well. The man looked different outside of the club, outside of the illusion. He looked tired, as his mother said, his limp was worse, and his face was clean of the makeup he had worn the night before.



“Mr. Peng-“ He stopped himself when Oswald gave him a death stare, “Oswald. It’s good to see you.”



“You know my Oswald! You two are friends.” Gertrude said with a smile, “Why you don’t bring friends around? This man has no where to go. Sleeping in some drafty house downtown.” She batted Oswald on the arm. He recoiled just a bit, “But not anymore. He will take the room upstairs.”



“What?” Oswald said with a slight tang of venom.



“I don’t have to.” Ed recovered quickly, “Really, Miss Kapelput. You said the room was worth 100 anyway, and I can’t afford that so-” He said, holding his hands up. Gertrude waved her hand.


“Nonsense. Any boy who helps me and is a friend of my Oswald is welcome in this building. How did you two meet?”

Oswald was standing remarkably still, staring Edward down. Ed looked between the two of them. 



“I met him at the Ic-”



Oswald turned to his mother quickly, “Mother, I need to have a word in private with Edward, thank you.” He said, quickly grabbing Ed’s arm and dragging him into the hallway.



Gertrude stood alone in the kitchen, “We are eating soon!” She called out as the door slammed behind Oswald, “Such a nice boy.”