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“I wasn’t in love with him if that’s what you meant, but yes I loved him very much” Oswald’s voice was soft and calm but his eyes were still slightly reddish in clear evidence that he’d been crying.
He was a recent very recent widower, Ed needed to remind himself. He didn’t say a word but the Penguin could catch the confusion in his furrowed brows “I wouldn’t considered him perfect for me if I’d been able to fall in love with him” he explained “we both know that the only occasion I did fall in love awful things happened” there was a hint of a joke but the Riddler didn’t smile.
“I understand” he said instead, narrowing his gaze.
“I’d never thought I could be so happy” Oswald wasn’t looking at his former friend anymore, there was a sad smile on his lips “and now it’s over” his voice breaking.
Ed looked at him, wishing he could do anything to soothe the pain but unable to move. They were far away from that, they hadn’t been friends, real friends in almost ten years.
“Well” Oswald took a deep breath “there would be time to grief after I honour the memory of my husband” he lifted his chin, walking across the room and opening a tiny box placed over a table, it contained the sunglasses Oswald’s husband used to wear, the ones their murderers had sent to the Penguin weeks ago. “I will kill them all” he whispered and the Riddler suspected the words weren’t for him.
There was a long silence and then Oswald spoke again “I didn’t ask you the reason of your visit”
“Nothing…nothing really” he dismissed with a wave of his good hand “I just –I was at the Iceberg Lounge a couple of days ago, Lark told me they hadn’t see you since the reopening, it looks wonderful by the way”
“Wonderful for a quick reopening, I wished I could have taken my time with it but I had to” he cleared his throat “keep my word to the Batman” Oswald grimaced with distaste.
Edward had heard the story from the Penguin himself. The Batman had saved him in exchange of having him as his informant. Oswald wasn’t even a bit happy about that but he certainly appreciated his life more than he liked to admit.
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Back into his place, the Riddler sank into the couch as careful as he could. He still had his right arm and leg in a cast as a reminder of how closed he himself had been of ending dead because of this whole intergang issue.
You wouldn’t be injured if you hadn’t been snooping around Penguin’s business, a familiar voice inside his head started, but you couldn’t help yourself, could you? You were too jealous of this what was his name? Tony? Johnnie?
It wasn’t the first time this voice, his other self’s voice talked to him. He hadn’t had hallucinations in a long time but hearing voices; this specific voice was something that happened from time to time, usually when he was under huge amounts of stress.
You wanted to protect Oswald from him, and then the laugh, the awful laugh, Ed wanted to hit his head to the wall you’ve been nothing but an idiot, you heard him, this Johnnie whatever-his-last-name-was made him happy, happier than you could ever made him in your pathetic, miserable life.