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fanfic-the-wish-your-heart-makes · 7 months ago

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Chapter 3 of Revenge Can Hurt More Than the Person It's Aimed at (An Angsty Nygmobblepot x Reader Hurt/Comfort Fix-it Fic)

Chapter 3: The Interview

<-previous chapter

Very important new warnings: the (wrong) suspicion that Oswald wants to die & that he self-harmed/was close to killing himself), blood (only what was in this episode: a trophy covered in it & some on skin), canon betrayal (including gaslighting & intimidation) & poor mental state (self-doubt)

Word count: 2764

Wow, I'm really committing to this cover-for-each-chapter thing so far.

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Oswald looked as if he had seen a ghost. His face was even paler than before, his eyes wide, and his back appeared crooked, not to mention how much more he was leaning on his cane. What the hell happened?

He nearly skidded over the floor, and raised his hands. "Sorry I'm late. Mayor stuff." He chuckled artifically, and limped to his seat, throwing you a nervous look with all pretense gone. When an assistant tried to attach a cable to him, Oswald snatched it away and adjusted it himself.

Trying to make him feel a little at ease, you began, "I got you a fresh gl-" but Margaret Hearst interrupted you, "I hope you're ready, Mr. Mayor." Oswald smiled and huffed a little.

"The world is watching."

Why did she have to stress the word that way? He scowled and you did the same.

Her lips were pursed smugly. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"And we're live in three..." What? That's way too soon!

"Good luck, Oswald!"

He put his hands into a less cramped position.

"Two..."

"You've got this!"

The cameras started rolling and Ms. Hearst put on a wide smile.

"Mayor Cobblepot, as Gotham is enjoying an historic spike in job growth and prosperity, it is also going through one of the safest periods of its history."

Oswald smiled but Looked at the floor momentarily. At least one thing to make you proud.

"And I'm sure everyone is wondering: how did you did you do it?" The interviewer raised the corners of her lips but her head was inclined to show that she distrusted him.

"Uh", Oswald closed his mouth and picked up the water of glass, letting a bit spill onto the table.

Oh no. That was an easy question, he shouldn't start using drinking water to buy himself time yet. Maybe I should get a new glass just in case.

You peered at the table to check how much was still in it when Oswald paused his movement and then quickly covered his right wrist.

What was going on?

He stared at Margaret Hearst with an open mouth and she looked back more puzzled.

You went to a monitor to possibly get a better look but his hand wasn't in the frame. Good. Whatever it was didn't need to concern the public.

Oswald closed his eyes, thinking about your encouragement from before and smiled for a moment, then managed to start, "Well..."

While he was fidgeting a little with his hands - though not as much as Ed sometimes did: he was still clutching his right wrist - he actually did quite well, responding eloquently and mentioning a few of his successes along the way.

"So from humble errand boy to kitchen worker to the so-called "King of Gotham", Oswald pressed his lips together, sensing something else than a compliment coming, "it is said that many died so you could rise."

The King of Gotham mustered up a smile, "Oh. An exaggeration. People love to invent scandal." He was putting in quite a lot of energy for how he was feeling today.

The notorious journalist wasn't impressed, "But it was murder that sent you to Arkham. A prison for the criminally insane."

"I," he dragged the word out for a second to find the right words, "rescued this city from the madman Theo Galavan. Some call it murder," he looked down to the side, "others a public favor." He smiled charmingly. At least he won you over with it.

Ms. Hearst continued confidently, "And after your...controversial release from prison," Oswald was tempted to look to you for support, "you met your father, Elijah van Dahl."

Oswald's gaze drifted across the room and landed on-no!

"A man whose identity your mother kept from you."

Oswald opened his mouth. His father! Walking through the room unseen by the security guards. He let out a breath of air and followed the ghost with his eyes, whispering, "Oh my god."

You looked at him alarmed, about to follow his gaze when someone from the camera team made a sudden movement that distracted you.

"Guess it must have been very upsetting."

"What?" Oswald turned his head to Ms. Hearst, "Yes." He looked away again.

The mayor was very distracted but it wasn't as if anyone from the team had noticed anything.

"He also died under suspicuous circumstances, his wife and step children disappearing soon after."

Elijah was holding the trophy Oswald had used to kill his chief of staff, still bloody, raised for Oswald to remember what he had done, not just today but to avenge his father's death.

What did he want him to know? That he was a failure? No, he had been so kind when he'd heard about his past. Advice perhaps? Advice on how to prevent losing you as well?

"I...I-I have to go." Oswald was looking back and forth between Ms. Hearst and something behing you but you were frozen in place, only looking at him.

No one seemed to see what he was looking at anyways. Is he hallucinating?Ed might be able to help with that. Maybe Os had that little sleep. The poor man looked ready to leave.

But Margaret Hearst wasn't done with him yet, "Why? Is it because there's substance to the rumor that you had them killed to inherit your father's wealth?"

Oswald stopped clutching his chair and stood up, "F-father, father, wait!" His voice was frail. With his movement he dragged the chair along audibly, knocking off the glass in the process.

"Oh!" Ms. Hearst exclaimed, "Are you feeling well, Mr. Mayor?"

Oswald began removing the microphone on his suit. "Uh, I'm fine. I-I'm great." He bowed down to her a little, still trying to leave, "Why would I not be fine?" He was still fumbling with the microphone.

"Well, the people of Gotham and America want to know the truth."

Oswald couldn't take it anymore: he ripped off the cord and snarled, "To hell with the people!"

This was it. Margaret Hearst had gotten her story. She looked into the camera and raised her eyebrows. Oswald wasn't needed anymore.

"Father, wait!"

He needed to follow him. He had to. You gave him wonderful support but only his father could give him counsel concerning love: what to do with his feelings for you, how to live with Ed's rejection, whether to deal with the heartbreak in silence or tell you as well as confess to you...and risk losing you too.

"Oswald!"

He turned around.

"Wait!"

"What's wrong?"

He held up a shaky hand. His left one, you noticed. "I can't tell you. Not yet."

"What do you mean "not yet"?"

He looked down, then behind you again, as if there was someone.

"Later. N-not now, at least." He tried to move past you but you stopped his wobbly walk with a hand to his chest.

"Where are you going?"

He gently cupped your hand and moved it down, giving it a small squeeze, then wincing slightly and putting the hand on the other one...his right one.

You needed to ask. Something strange was going on.

Oswald stopped near a mirror and realized horrified that there was a little blood on his face. He wiped it away frantically. "T-to the...bathroom."

You eyed him suspiciously, worried about his well-being.

He pocketed the tissue, his lips twitching from nervosity, his tense legs urging him to follow his father already.

If you discovered his hallucinating, what would you think? You'd think of him as a madman. You knew that his sanity certificate was fake. Who even was he to have one?! Moreover: who was he if he was really sane? In the eye of the public he was a disgraced mayor. A hypocrite. A criminal. A liar. Not even an honest criminal as he sometimes liked to call himself.

After the embarrassment seconds ago he couldn't see clearly, didn't realize how blind he was, that you still liked Ed, who had a fake sanity certificate as well, that you were right there, taking in his state concerned for someone you loved dearly.

He only saw the negative. He was a disappointment. To the citizens of Gotham, to Ed, to you, to his mother, his father...

He had publically made a fool of himself despite your presence, you, his savior, his everything recently.

Not his everything...father!

His face grew less grim. "Now if you'd excuse me."

Again he made a move and would have let him if there wasn't a very important thing you had to ask first, "Just a second!"

Oswald halted.

You reached out to him, attempting to speak calmly, "Your hand. What do you have there?"

You gave it a light touch, meaning to bring it into yours to inspect it.

He flinched, then stood frozen.

"N-nothing!"

"Let me have a look."

"No!" He held a hand in front of his mouth. That reaction was too strong. "I-I mean, it's nothing!"

Very unconvincing.

"Oswald, you can trust me with anything. Please tell me what's wrong."

He evaded your concerned look and you took your chance, looking down at the hand he hadn't raised. The white fabric bore a a red stain. You took in a sharp breath.

Oswald called your name. "What is it?" He looked at you again, a flicker of caution in his panic-stricken eyes.

"The...the blood, Oswald." You gestured to his hand that he was now covering again. "Why is there blood?"

He stared at your pleading eyes.

"Tell me what's bothering you and I can...I can help arrange some downtime for you. I'll look for an open space i-in your schedule and talk to your new Chief of Staff. He seems nice, I'm sure-hey, did I say something wrong?"

"N-no." He couldn't tell you that he'd killed said Chief of Staff. You just said that you liked him, and to be honest, Oswald would've never expected betrayal from him either. What if he was actually innocent?

You went on, "It's his birthday today, did you know that? I'm sure he's in a good mood. Plus, a lot of people like him, so..."

No, no, no, no! Oswald cursed his murder.

You noticed, "But please do continue telling me what's up with your arm or wrist."

Don't say anything about killing him to y/n. "I...I, uh, hurt myself", he tried to explain.

"What?" Stay calm, don't make him feel bad, you told yourself.

"Yes. I-it can happen." Oswald meant to make it reassuring, but to you, who knew how bad he was currently doing, it sounded like a possible confession to self-harm.

"Let me see."

Oswald's eyes widened and he turned to walk away, "I'd rather not."

"Oswald, let me have a look. I-I can help you."

"No!"

You shrank back.

What have I done? "You don't need to look at it, is what I meant. You already help me so much, dear-dear y/n." Ahh, I messed up! Why did that have to happen today?!

You didn't seem to care about his slip-up, "Whether it looks bad or not, I better inspect it so I can make sure that you have the right bandages ready."

He couldn't let you! You'd see that he had no injury at all! "It's nothing."

"Oh," you didn't believe him, "Good."

He was already walking away, "I'll pick up something from the office." Now he had an excuse for going there.

"Wait!"

He only walked slower, which made his explanation all the more suspicious.

"If it's nothing, then please let me see it anyway so I don't have to worry anymore."

This was a smart strategy. While Oswald may have been doleful and weak these last weeks, he had never stopped caring about your well-being.

Instead of assuring you however, he now continued walking, "Please, y/n, I need to be alone!"

"And I'm worried tha..." You couldn't tell him of your suspicions. What if he hadn't done anything in that direction and felt misjudged by you? Or worse: what if you'd somehow inspire him to do something similar?

Oswald saw your distressed concern and stopped, stabilizing himself on a wall, "Worried about what, y/n?" If something was bothering his dear friend so much, his father could could wait for a few seconds.

"Worried that you hurt yourself on purpose."

"Oh." What should he say now?

Usually, if you found out that he'd killed an innocent person, you'd be mad or "merely" disappointed. Either would sadden him immensly at present.

"I didn't. But thank you for your concern."

You peered at his right hand. He still wasn't showing you show you the wound.

The dumpish mayor followed your eyes and let his shoulders sink more. "Please believe me." He made a choked noise in the back of his throat. "It's all so-" he started to cry, "so much a-and-" He waved his left hand around in search for words, his eyes filling with more tears, "I-I...Ijustcan'ttalkrightnow." He looked away and put his left hand to cover his face.

"That's okay. I'm sorry that I stressed you out even more." You stepped closer carefully, not knowing what else to say. Returning your hug, Oswald weakly put one arm to your side.

You stroked over his shaking back. "It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be alright." You teared up.

Oswald nodded despite his extreme doubts. He'd need a miracle to- father!

He jerkily tore away from you. "I have to go."

"What?" You were suprised at this sudden change.

"One more minute here and I'll-I'll have a panic attack. Please don't...don't follow me. I'm just barely managing to...to talk." Will you wait for me?"

"Yes. Yes, of course. But what-"

"Go ahead and wait outside."

"Wh-" What was going on? 'I have to go' sounded...terrible to you! And why wait outside?

"Good." Oswald turned around-

"Wait!" You had to do something, say something, just in case. "Oswald, please wait."

God, hearing that tone in your voice hurt him! He turned his head back towards you.

"You...we...we need to talk about something very important."

"Yes, what is it?"

No no no no, he was supposed to say "Yes of course, we'll talk about that later"!

"I'll tell you later!" You sounded hopelessly dispaired by now. "Can you promise me that we'll do that?" You blinked some tear fluid out of your eyes, "Today?"

Oswald stood still still woth his jittery legs and hands. It must be important. You were hurting and he hadn't helped you yet. He wanted to sob again. "Yes." He took a deep breath. "Of course, y/n. Everything for you."

If not everything for Edward and you, than at least everything for just you.

"I promise."

You breathed out in relief. "Th-thank you."

He was still miserable though. He probably really needed space, whether he had lied to you or not. "I'll wait outside. And Oswald?"

He gazed at you full of hope.

"Don't think that interview ruined everything. You still control the crime world. And they know who you are. But even if you lost everything...you'd still have me."

Hopefully that would take some of the fear from his shoulders.

Oswald's breath hitched.

Those were big words. Words like "I love you", which you had already said today. Words like "I would do anything for you." Words like "more than friends"...and he'd eventually found out what all of those had really meant.

He immediately felt bad for playing his sadness and distress up.

He didn't want to and wouldn't try to find out the exact meaning of what you'd said. Not unless he wanted his heart to be broken a second time.

This time all of his emotional expressions were completely authentic. A new wave of tears threatened to overcome him and so he could only choke out, "Thank you."

Then he walked away.

You stood there, suddenly doubting your little try at ensuring he'd come back. Maybe you could go after him and make sure...no. He'd asked you not to. If you did, it might be his final tipping point to having a panic attack...or worse.

You slowly forced yourself to move, almost reflexively pulling out your telephone and dialling a familiar number.

Beep beep beep beep beep beep... It rang until you were almost outside.

"Ed", you said as soon as he picked up, "you have to tell me what happened between you and Oswald."

Author's note: The updates might take longer from now on, as I haven't begun writing the next ones yet or seen the episodes after season three episode 14 😂. This fic will probably go up to season 3 episode 16, so it's totally okay.

Things are so sad currently though 😭 So please let me know anything you like/think about this. It can be short, medium, long, whatever you want :)

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