Chapter Text
Oswald settles under the covers in his room at the Van Dahl Manor. In the room across from his Edward Nygma is fast asleep, body and mind exhausted after enduring the hell of Arkham Asylum. Ed hadn't talked much about his experience in there, other than he was bored and feared his sharp wit and intelligence would slip into the sterile white void of the Asylum. Dulled by drugs and constant interaction with simpletons.
Oswald was just relieved no therapy, if it could be called that, had been administered to his dear friend. The thought of Ed's personality washing away with wave after wave of electrical torture has the shorter man's gut clenching and stirs a protective flame in him. He ponders checking on the other, but wouldn't want to wake him up if he's managed to escape the nightmares that plagued Oswald upon release.
He's not sure when Ed became so dear to him, but it was definitely during Edward's incarceration. Oswald feels better knowing that the taller man is safe and away from the torment of that hellhole masquerading as a place of healing.
The tickling he's felt in his throat all week worsens. It's been coming and going for a while and Oswald was starting to think he’d have no choice other than go to a doctor, which he was loathe to do since his last experience with a doctor. Granted he was, maybe, a psychiatrist and not a medical doctor.
Still, he’d rather avoid doctors for a while. Oswald coughs lightly, hoping to stop the tickling. He feels something catch in the back of his throat and coughs harder. Finally, whatever is lodged back there comes loose and Oswald watches, stunned, as pine needles and small reddish brown petals drift from between his lips.
That's not possible. This only happens if….but that's ridiculous. He's not in love with anyone. Wait, could it be? Platonic love was also a possibility. That had to be it! Of course, Ed was a dear friend, it made sense that he would love him. But Ed was often emotionally aloof and hard to read. Oswald thought he was getting better at understanding Ed and his oddities.
Perhaps he was wrong. This wouldn't happen if Ed loved him in any capacity. The thought hurt, but maybe Oswald was misunderstanding. Ed might love him and not know how to show it. Perhaps he should ask? No, better to wait this out.
*~*
Oswald was in his kitchen, frantically making tea for Edward. When suddenly he doubled over and coughed up an avalanche of pine needles and petals. After the election the amount of petals decreased since Ed had proved how much he cared. There was no need for Oswald to keep coughing up the small strange looking flowers. He’d discovered they came from a Thuja tree and represented everlasting friendship. The petals might not have been pretty to look at their meaning made up for it.
Now Oswald watched wide-eyed as white and pastel yellow and gold drifted into the mix. He recognized the honeysuckle immediately but not its meaning. And the other flower looked familiar but Oswald was unsure what it was. Whatever it was, it would have to wait until he'd brought Ed his tea.
Edward was no doubt in pain after that ape strangled him and Oswald needed to see to it he was well cared for. When he'd wrapped Ed in his arms and felt the taller man hesitantly return it the tickle in his throat lessened and he wanted to kiss the lanky man. Ed seemed so unsure of just returning a hug that Oswald feared he would push the other man away and he simply couldn't risk losing Edward's friendship. Not now, not when his heart was racing and he felt warm and happy. He hadn't felt this way since his mother died, yet somehow this was more.
Later that night, after Ed's promise to do anything for Oswald, he searched. White heather, protection, honeysuckle, devotion and bonds of love. Oswald smiled, stroking a petal with a fingertip. Yes, Oswald would do anything to protect Ed, to keep him safe. Tonight was proof he couldn't lose him.
Love, Oswald was in love. That's what that feeling was. That's why it was so much more. He resolved to tell Edward soon. Both because he deserved to know and so the annoying cough with its shower of petals and pine needles would vanish.
*~*
Oswald watched, heart aching, as Edward gushed about his upcoming date with Isabelle. He'd completely brushed aside Oswald's hint that he wanted Ed with him at the founders dinner. Ed plucked some invisible lint off Oswald's jacket, his meticulous nature and fretting leading him to fuss endearingly over his wardrobe.
Then he'd left to call this woman he barely knew but claimed to love. Oswald gave into the tickle in his throat and watched as a spray of brighter golden petals, daffodils, if what he remembered about his mother's flowerbox was right.
When he was young the splash of color at their dull windowsill had been a nice touch. The yellow color warm and sunny, like his mother. Now their meaning made him feel bitter.
Please love me. Unrequited love. A plea to be noticed and loved in return. Unrequited. Is this how he is doomed to live. To cough up flowers for the rest of his lonely miserable life? A life without Ed?.
No, he refused. Isabelle had to go.
*~*
Strapped to the hood of a car was not how he planned to die. When the security man freed him Oswald sat for several moments. Shocked that Ed, his Edward, had done this. Had used his father against him.
He was right to be angry, he was right to want to get even with Oswald. But had he really deserved all this? Did Ed now truly despise him? Oswald curled into himself, feeling a sob work itself up his throat. But all that came out was red.
Red Dahlia, betrayal. Heartbreak. Briefly he wondered if this is how Ed felt, but Oswald dismissed that thought. For not a single petal had ever fallen from Ed's lips. And if he had loved her he would have. The loss of a loved one is always followed by hanahaki disease. Always. Until the one afflicted finishes the stages of grief. Ed hadn't even gotten through one and not a single petal.
What did that mean?
*~*
Oswald wanted to be angry. He acted like he was. Like all he wanted was to kill Edward. But he still coughed up petals, even as he sank bleeding into the harbor he had left a trail of petals. He was angry, at himself, at Ed, at love.
But he still loved him. And the tiny pink and white rose petals were all he needed to confirm that he was doomed. He would always love Ed and Ed would never love him back. Hated him, in fact. He wanted to die, to end the constant coughing and petals and ache. A sickly burning feeling every time his heart beat. If he couldn't kill Ed and Ed would never love him back then what happens to them? Will Ed continue to take advantage of Oswald's feelings? Toying with him and manipulating him? What about others? Surely they would find out about his love for Ed. He couldn't let Ed keep getting hurt for his sake, especially not now when Ed wasn't willing to do anything for him anymore.
But he can't kill him. There has to be another way of making sure nothing ever hurts Edward again. And that Edward can never hurt him. There has to be a way because Oswald loves him, and he always will.