Chapter Text
When Ed woke, his forehead was pressed between Oswald's shoulder blades, a hand resting against the entry wound on his stomach. Trying to get into a more comfortable position, he was met with the same problem as the night before. This time the frustrated growl escaped him before he could stop it.
“Ed?” Oswald mumbled sleepily.
“Sleep,” Ed whispered in his ear, his breath sending a shiver through the other.
In a reflex, Oswald took the hand Ed still had not retracted and pulled it up to his collarbone, holding it tight.
“Oswald, let go,” Ed tried to reason when simply moving his hand did not work as the grip was too tight.
On Oswald's other side, Martin began to stir. Lifting himself onto his elbow, he tried to catch the boy’s attention. “Little help?”
Luckily Martin understood and carefully pried Oswald's hand off him and replaced Ed’s hand with his own.
Ed thanked him with a nod and fully sat up. Making sure the kid had his eyes closed, he exited the room, always conscious of not letting him see the tent in his pants.
Back in the shower he clunked his head against the tiles. Two nights in a row. That had never happened to him before. Not wanting a repeat of the previous morning he lowered the heat and turned on the shower.
Only to switch it off once the first droplets met his skin. Unbidden memories had him push his fingers against his closed eyelids. Showers that were always too cold because the heating bill had not been paid. Pushing them away he was glad to see that it at least had resolved his problem.
As their day would be busy, Ed decided to use the early start to arrange a much needed visit.
“What do you want, Nygma? Where is Penguin?”
Ed held up his hand waggling his index finger. “That is none of your concern, Captain Gordon.” He stepped further into the office. “I would like to introduce you to someone.” Stepping aside he pointed to the boy: “This is Martin, the boy Oswald supposedly blew up.”
“Is that true?”
Martin nodded, then held up his note pad with the pre-written message: “He faked my death to protect me from Sofia.”
“And then was put into Arkham, innocent, again, if I may remind you, Jim.”
“Sofia?” Gordon looked from one to the other. “I don’t understand. Zsasz admitted the crime.”
Ed scoffed. “He lied. Obviously.”
“I’ve never known Victor Zsasz to lie.”
“And I would have never believed Oswald would voluntarily stay in Arkham in order to protect a kid. He doesn’t like kids.” Ed opened his arms wide. “Yet, here we are.”
“Tell me in your own words, what happened”, Gordon ordered Martin, then glared at Ed, “Without him looking over your shoulder.”
“Please Jim, do you expect me to influence a kid to get what I want?”
“What do you want?”
“Clemency for Oswald, of course.”
Gordon said nothing to that but urged Martin to write. Ed watched as Martin filled page after page, drumming his fingers against his arms. He was growing impatient, going through contingency after contingency in case the boy could not provide the necessary information.
“Right, you were there. That was you …” Gordon leaned back in his chair, running a hand trough his hair. “Alright, I’ll drop the charges. Sofia has played us all long enough. But!” He pointed at Ed. “But if he restarts his licenses I will find a way to end this!”
“Understood, he will appreciate your sacrifice.” With a flourish Ed bowed, then shoved the boy in front of himself. “Come on, Martin, we still have a little shopping to do.”
When they returned a couple hours later, his arms laden with the supplies they needed for the trip to Martin’s new school, they decided to take a break. Another quiz show played on the screen as Martin ate a bowl of cereal and Ed absentmindedly answered the presented question as he placed everything over the couch and onto the aisle.
“I could do a much better show than that!” He exclaimed at some point. “They would never win any prices!”
“Why not?” Martin asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, they would have to beat me of course,” he posed in a flourish, “and no one beats The Riddler.”
“I did.”
“Kid, I went easy on you.” Ed scoffed. “Wouldn't do to upset Oswald with upsetting you.”
They were silent for am moment, then Martin knocked on the table to get his attention. The words he held up had Ed gape like a fish. “Do you love him?”
“No. He’s my friend, the best friend I ever head and I have to admit that I’ve come to care about him a lot, but romantic love has nothing to do with it.” He paced in front of the couch, his thoughts racing. “Love is not for people like us.” The response was automatic, his own sentiment ringing in his ears. We are better of unencumbered.
The hair dye drying on their heads, Oswald filled the silence between them with a question: “How did you get Edward to come to Arkham?”
“Well, I used his little infatuation with Dr. Thompkins, made a few assassination attempts on her and told him the only way to stop me from killing her would be to get rid of me. Permanently.”
“What?” Oswald jerked around in shock, but Ed only shrugged.
“He had his, well our, head in a noose when I suggested we admit ourselves to Arkham instead.”
It was obvious that Oswald wanted to say more, but he settled on. “That was quite the gamble.”
“Not really. We have not survived until now just to give up for some scraps.”
“I still am glad it paid off.” Absentmindedly Oswald patted his hand and Ed allowed him the gesture, just as glad that it had worked the way he had planned.
After a tearful good bye and a surprise hug for Ed, they made their way back to Gotham. Everything had gone off without a hitch, no one suspected foul play and they had easily accepted Oswald as the kid’s legal guardian, father even.
The atmosphere in the car was somber. Every now and then Ed chanced a glance at Oswald. He stared silently out of the side window, his arm resting on the door.
They maybe had an hour left when Oswald stirred, his face scrunched up. “Could we stop? My leg …“
“Of course!” Instantly Ed looked for a spot to park.
Getting around the car, he opened Oswald’s door and helped him to turn around. Then he got down on his knees to massaging the leg despite Oswald's protest. When he was satisfied with his work, Ed looked up and noticed the compromising position he was in. Combined with his early morning troubles, he felt warmth spread across his cheeks and hurriedly got up, to stand beside the door.
Oswald did not seem to notice and carefully got out of the car using his cane. “What are you going to do once we get back?” He asked after taking a few steps.
“Watching those Quiz shows with Martin gave me an idea. I’m going to create one of my own. The Riddle Factory, where you can either win some cash or be punished quite horribly …”
“How will you get the cash?”
“Rob a bank, or two” They shared a smug grin. Ed could already picture the schemes for his heists.
“And where will you open it?” Oswald seemed genuinely interested, his hands resting his hands on the handle of his cane.
“The Narrows.”
“Back to the Narrows?” Oswald raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, the people there love me, it’ll be a piece of cake to get them as contestants.”
“The people?” Even more skepticism seeped into his voice.
Ed felt as if this was a test, trying not to squirm under Oswald's intense gaze, so he went into the offensive: “Yes, they quite enjoyed my portrayal of you.”
“Right, that …” He scrunched up his nose.
Briefly the word adorable flitted through his mind, but he swatted it away. “What are you not telling me?”
“Nothing, let’s head back.”
Oswald made for his side of the car, but Ed grabbed onto the arm not holding the cane. “You don’t think I can pull this off.”
“Oh, I have every faith you will be extraordinary.”
“Then what is it?” Ed squinted his eyes.
“Alright, as you wish.” Oswald scoffed, removing Ed’s arm from his. “I think a tiny part of Edward, that is still within you, may still hope for Leslie’s approval and recognition.”
“NO! I am the Riddler! I am unburdened by such basic emotions!”
“Of course, what am I thinking.” Oswald hit the flat of his hand dramatically against his forehead, his tone sarcastic.
“You are not thinking! At least not with your brain!” Ed yelled before he could hold it back. Oswald’s jealousy, that was the only reason, he did not believe in his plan.
“What do you mean?”
“I heard you, Oswald. You still talk in your sleep.” The words were as cold as the glare he fixed his supposed friend with.
“Wha- I-” He stammered, gaping like a fish.
“Don’t deny it, your feelings for me haven’t changed and you are jealous that I once again found someone who appreciates me for who I am.” Ed yelled, rising up to his full height, towering over Oswald to intimidate him.
But of course that did not work on the dethroned King Pin. His temper and voice rising. “This is ridiculous! You are ridiculous! Why would I still harbor any kind of affection for the man who shot me and dumped me in the river!”
“Because that is who you are,” Ed yelled back, “You said it yourself your heart is your greatest weakness and yet you still let it lead your decisions.” He swept his arm into an arch. “Take Martin for example: While I know you don’t approve of killing children, the Oswald I knew would not stay in Arkham for any of them.”
A growl left Oswald’s lips, his eyes as cold as the river’s waters must have been. “This is how you thank me for freeing you?”
“How would you like me to thank you?” Ed sneered, “Get down on my knees?”
“Don’t be crude.” Oswald scrunched up his nose again and Ed was sure, he would have turned away if it were not for his pride.
“What then, Oswald? What will finally make you let go of those pathetic feelings?”
Oswald stepped closer to him, their chests nearly touching. Ed had to swallow hard to get his breathing back under control.
“I don’t care if you ride off into the sunset with Leslie Thompkins or Isabelle 2.0 or any other woman that so much as smiles at you.” Oswald's tone was calm, as if all of this did not at all affect him the way it did Ed, “I made my choices, you do not get to belittle me for them. Clearly trusting you to be civil in light of recent events was a mistake.”
“Clearly,” Ed easily agreed.
They held eye contact for a moment longer, then Oswald stepped away, brushing of the argument like imaginary lint from his jacket. “I would appreciate a ride nonetheless.”
“Fine.”