Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Everything was cold and dark. Dark except for the fading pinprick of light that was the sun, tinged red by blood. But that was soon gone as Oswald sunk further into the murky depths of the river. He closed his eyes, hoping death would be quick.
Hands closed around Oswald’s own. He was yanked up and out of the water. Oswald collapsed onto the dock, coughing and hacking up water.
“Cut!”
“Robin? You okay?”
Oswald felt more hands on him and he flailed about, trying to get away. “Don’t touch me!” He gasped, trying to get a sense of himself. Oswald had thought for sure he was about to drown and now he was on dry land. And apparently not bleeding.
“You sank a bit further than expected. Here, I’ll help you up.” A hand was thrust into Oswald’s field of view and he looked up. Ed stood there, looking concerned but not at all like he was sorry for shooting him.
Oswald could only sit there gaping for a moment before rage took over. “YOU! You SHOT me!” He flung himself at Ed, clawing and scratching at his face. “After everything! And now you’re acting concerned!?”
“What the hell!? Robin! Robin, stop!” Ed exclaimed, trying to push Oswald off. Yet again, Oswald was being pulled about by unknown hands, but this time in restraint.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down! What’s gotten into you?” a man Oswald had not previously noticed asked.
“Who are you? Let me go or I swear I’ll kill you as well!” Oswald snarled, struggling.
The man and Ed both looked shocked. “I think you got a little disoriented from being underwater too long, Robin. Take a breather,” the man said.
“Yeah, I think this scene got a bit too under your skin. I need a break myself,” Ed said, getting to his feet. He rubbed at his face and looked at Oswald with even more worry than before. “Maybe some coffee will help?”
Oswald looked between the man still restraining him and Ed. They were both nuts! Or he really was dead and this was some strange Hell he’d ended up in. That was the only reason Ed wouldn’t fight back, certainly. Right?
“Robin?” Ed inquired hesitantly.
And then there was that. “Who are you calling ‘Robin’? What’s going on?” Oswald demanded.
Seeing that he was no longer struggling, the man let Oswald go. Now he could see that the man was wearing a black t-shirt with the word ‘Crew’ written in white letters across the back.
“I’m calling you Robin,” Ed replied, looking at Oswald as though he’d grown a second head.
Just then, a young woman approached them, and put a blanket on Oswald’s shoulders. “Come, Robin, let’s get you into some warm clothes. I’ll take you to your room.”
Oswald glared at Ed one last time - he would figure out what craziness this was, and then settle matters with that traitor - but he really needed some dry clothes, so he let the woman take him away from the docks and to a trailer whose door was marked with ‘RLT.’
“There are some clothes in the closet. Oh, and Dickie called while you were on set. He was just boarding, said he’d call you tomorrow from London.”
For a brief moment, Oswald wondered who the hell Dickie was, and why’d he need to know about him, but then he noticed a full-length mirror on the opposite wall. He limped to it, then put his hand on his cold cheek. He was himself; he felt solid and real under the touch. Oswald then noticed the red spot on the middle of his chest, and he remembered the events at the dock. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, struggling as he went on because his fingers were trembling.
Where the wound was supposed to be, now there was only a small scar, nicely healed and barely visible. How is this possible? Oswald thought as he rubbed it with his fingers. He had no idea if he had died or what was this nonsense about people calling him Robin.
The closet only had clothes Oswald would probably only use as sleepwear, but at least they were dry. He quickly changed, looking around curiously, wondering where to start snooping for clues.
However, there was a knock on the door. “Hey, Robin, I heard you wrapped up episode fourteen today, nice job!”
Oswald’s heart skipped a beat; Jim Gordon was peeking inside his room! “ Jim! What are you doing here?”
Jim chuckled. “Haha, very funny.”
Having become aware of the fact that his mouth had been hanging open, Oswald snapped it shut. Had Jim just laughed? He didn’t think he’d ever heard Jim laugh before. “Did you just call me Robin too?”
“That is your name,” Jim replied with a raised brow as he leaned casually against the door frame. “Or are you trying to stay in character? You do know we’re done filming for today.”
Filming? Oswald’s brows furrowed in confusion. Hadn’t someone else mentioned doing a ‘scene’? And he was in a strange trailer that looked like something a movie star might use. What in the world was going on?
“Hey, you okay?” Jim asked, approaching. “You seem confused.”
Oswald didn’t know what to say. Everything was just so overwhelming. It was too much. “I’m fine,” Oswald said, voice barely audible. “I’m fine.”
Jim didn’t seem convinced. “Did you hit your head or something when you fell into the water?”
“No, I don’t think so. Jim - ”
“Ben.”
“Ben? Ben. Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” Oswald replied, faking a smile. Clearly something was not right. Perhaps it would be best to play along until he knew what was really going on.
“It’s fine. It was an emotional scene and I know how it can be after those. Take it easy for a bit, okay?” Ben said with a kind smile.
Oswald was momentarily taken aback, but he quickly nodded. “Of course. There’s no need to worry.” He watched as Ben left, then sunk into a chair. Whatever was going on, he needed to figure it out. And fast.
Sitting around in confusion would help nothing, however. Oswald thought he might at least snoop around this room and see if there was anything useful. The first thing to catch his eye was a picture hanging beside the mirror.
Oswald was surprised to see himself in said picture. Except, something was off. The him in the picture was wearing a black t-shirt, his hair was swept neatly to the side, and he was smiling happily beside a man whose arm was wrapped around his waist.
Things might be a little crazy at the moment, but Oswald would have certainly remembered having taken a picture like that! Snooping around further found him a phone, more pictures, and what looked like a script.
Oswald flipped through the script, heart beating faster the more he read. These ‘scenes’ were very familiar. He’d just lived through the words written on these pages. “This can’t be happening… I’ve been living in a television series?”
Robin woke up lying on his left side, coughing up water violently. The water in the pool was much more frigid than he expected; one of the crew members had told him that it would be warmed, but something must have gone wrong. Where was everyone anyway? Why was it so quiet?
When he looked up, he didn’t see the studio walls: he was outside, on the bank of a river, heavy fog rolling above the dark water. Robin realized suddenly how cold it was, and he embraced himself as he got up. He was absolutely alone, and he started panicking. He needed to find some help and get back to the set. He had nothing in his pockets, no money, no keys, no phone.
He stumbled through some empty fields, no sign of anyone around. But Robin could see a road nearby, so he hurried his steps, hoping that he’d meet someone, that the whole crew would just jump out and yell ‘surprise!’. Did his coworkers sedate him somehow and get him to the bank of a river? What a fucked up thing to do.
But then he heard the noise of a car approaching, and Robin breathed in with relief. Finally, some help. He’d get back in no time to New York. He waited patiently and then waved for the car to stop. Robin’s eyes lit up when the driver got out.
“Ben? I can’t believe it’s you! What is this nonsense, where are we?” he asked, hurrying towards the car.
Looking him up and down rather suspiciously, Ben’s gaze rested on Robin’s leg for a second, then he frowned. “What happened to you?”
Robin was taken aback by the gruff voice of his coworker, but he pushed aside that thought. “Well, we were filming the dock scene with Cory, and then I suddenly woke up on the river bank? Where’s everyone?”
However, instead of giving answers, Ben pushed on with more questions. “Dock scene? What are you talking about? And what happened to your chest, are you bleeding, Penguin?”
“No, of course not, that’s fake blood,” Robin was getting more confused by the minute. Why was Ben acting so weird? But then he realized that the man had called him Penguin. Not Robin, but Penguin. Ben had never… Robin’s eyes widened as he noticed that Ben ‒ or whoever this was ‒ was wearing one of Jim Gordon’s suits. Were they filming a new scene he had forgotten about?
Robin looked around again, but there was no crew in sight. Oh, shit. It couldn’t be, could it?
“You’re not Ben,” he whispered, panic seizing his whole body.
“No, I’m not.”
“Are you J-Jim? Jim Gordon ?”
“That’s right,” Jim replied slowly, then sighed. “Get in the car, I’m taking you to the hospital.”
Hospital? That would not be good. “No! I mean, I don’t need to go to the hospital, I’m perfectly okay,” Robin smiled. He didn’t know how he’d ended up in Gotham, but it was probably best not to cause a panic. Besides, if this was real and he tried to tell Jim he wasn’t Oswald… Robin nearly started hyperventilating. If Jim thought he was crazy, he could be sent to Arkham!
“I think you do. You look like a drowned rat – and like you’re about to keel over,” Jim said, opening the passenger side door. “The GCPD’s been looking for you. Ed came rushing in to tell us you’d disappeared.”
Robin blinked. That’s right, he remembered the discussion about episode 15. Of course Ed was to eventually pronounce Oswald dead, not merely missing.
“Oswald?”
Robin looked up from where he’d been staring at the ground, lost in thought. Jim looked, not necessarily concerned, but somewhat worried. Trying to rack his brain for how Oswald would react he replied, “I promise I’m fine, Jim. Though I do appreciate the concern.”
Jim scowled again. “Fine, I won’t take you to a hospital.” Robin breathed a sigh of relief. “But I don’t believe you about being okay. I can’t exactly let the Mayor die out here from a concussion, so you’re coming with me. Get in.”
“Wait, what?” Robin looked between Jim and the car.
“You heard me,” Jim snapped, gesturing for Robin to get in again.
After a moment’s hesitation, Robin did as he was told. What other choice did he have, really? Wander around Gotham by himself? That wouldn’t end well at all. Especially since it was nearly night.
Jim shut the door and went around to the driver’s side. He started up the car and pulled out onto the road. “…So what’s the deal with your leg?”
Robin blinked at him. “Excuse me?”
Jim waved his hand awkwardly, as if that would elaborate. When it didn’t he grumbled. “I just mean…you weren’t limping.”
Oh. Oh! “I just didn’t feel the pain? I was a bit distracted,” Robin replied. Then he realized he wasn’t really helping his situation; he needed to act more like Oswald. Robin frowned and turned his nose up, adding haughtily, “Not that’s it’s really any of your business, Jim.”
The detective’s expression hardened, so Robin was sure that he’d said the right thing, what Jim expected from Oswald. He was worried that he might not be able to keep up this charade for long, but damnit, he was an actor! He was an expert on Oswald, and he’d make sure everyone believed him.
Robin watched the dirty streets of Gotham pass by, not unlike those of New York, but somehow scarier. He didn’t understand how he was thrown into the fictional world he was playing in, but that didn’t change that he needed to get back as soon as possible.
As soon as they got out of the car, Robin made sure to walk with a limp. He could still feel Jim’s stare on him; he’d been very suspicious throughout the drive to his apartment as well, glancing at Robin from time to time, but not saying a word. Stubborn , Robin thought and rolled his eyes. Jim quickly ushered Robin inside, so that none of his nosy neighbors saw him. He disappeared into his bedroom while Robin was waiting by the door, not wanting to drip water everywhere.
He’d never been on the set of Jim’s new apartment ‒ unfortunately, he and Ben hadn’t had many scenes lately. Which might have been very useful now, especially if Jim and Oswald had been in somewhat good relations.
“Here, some dry clothes,” Jim said, placing them on his table. “The bathroom is that way.”
Robin thanked him, leaning against the bathroom door once he got inside. He touched the sink and walls, but everything in there too was solid and real. Not a dream. His wet clothes were very much real as well, so he quickly changed into Ben’s clothes. Jim’s . Oh god, he had to be more careful with the names.
Once he was done, Robin left the bathroom. Jim looked like he was in one of his moods, staring out his window. “I assume you want to call Nygma? Let him know that you’re alright?” he asked when he noticed Robin.
Robin’s eyes widened with terror. “Oh no, definitely not. No one must know that I’m alive, especially not Ed.”
Jim looked confused. “Is he the one who did that to you? I thought you were friends.”
“Long story short, he wants to kill me,” Robin rubbed his forehead. “I know this is a lot to ask, especially after everything that’s happened between us, but can I stay here?”
Jim was watching him intently, but he didn’t answer. Robin had to try harder. “Please, Jim, I don’t know where else to go. I-I will leave as soon as I figure out what I should do next. Please.”
Jim’s face softened a bit. “Fine. But only because I think you might have a concussion. Are you okay with pizza for dinner?”
Robin sighed with relief. “Thank you. Yes, pizza would be perfect.” He took a seat on Jim’s couch, watching as the detective ordered their food. How would he get out of this pickle?!