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The lie started in Edward’s apartment, when Jim Gordon regained consciousness.
“What the hell?” he groaned, clutching his head and sitting up.
“At last. How are you feeling?” Oswald asked him, approaching the bed. Jim groaned again.
“Not so good.” He peered curiously over Oswald’s shoulder. “Nygma?”
“Hi,” Edward chirped from his seat at the piano, laughing.
“Long story,” Oswald explained.
“We’re together,” Edward added. Oswald kept his face neutral, despite Edward’s unprompted interjection. He understood that they hadn’t yet agreed on anything, but it was as good a cover as any. Jim appeared to choke, then coughed loudly, pounding on his own chest.
“Are you alright, detective?” Edward asked, standing. “Perhaps you’d like some ice? Something to drink?” Edward made his way to the freezer, intending to fix him a cold pack.
“I’ll help,” Oswald offered sweetly, trailing after him until they were standing side by side.
“What the hell was that?” Oswald hissed, voice low.
“He’ll be more sympathetic if he thinks we’re together, and he might also make the mistake of underestimating us if he thinks we’re too enamored with one another to scheme. It’s also the simplest explanation of why you’re living here. Roommates generally don’t share a bed, at least in my experience,” Edward explained.
“You’ve thought this through,” Oswald grumbled, putting an arm around Edward’s waist. Edward smiled. Now he was getting the hang of it.
“I have,” Edward said.
“And you didn’t think to tell me beforehand?” Oswald asked, leaning in like he was whispering endearments into Edward’s ear.
“I knew you’d do the intelligent thing and agree with me,” Edward drawled, smiling at him. He finished with the ice, turning out of Oswald’s hold and bringing it over to Jim. “Detective.”
“Thanks, Ed. So, uh… how long—never mind. I don’t want to know,” Jim said, pressing the ice to his face.
“A few weeks,” Edward answered cheerfully, throwing a delighted grin over his shoulder at Oswald.
“I really don’t want to know,” Jim repeated, sounding somewhat defeated.
***
Oswald’s pitch to Jim was successful, and soon Edward’s apartment would become the base for a massive tactical undertaking. So, naturally, he went back to work to draw suspicion away from himself. His reports were finished inside of an hour, and he spent the rest of the time circling, waiting for— there.
Leslie Thompkins, confronting Captain Barnes about the warrant for Jim’s arrest. She had no idea where Jim was, that he was indeed working with Penguin, and she was furious. He couldn’t help but chuckle a little at her declarations. ‘Jim is not a criminal.’
“Are you sure you know Jim as well as you think you do?” Captain Barnes told her, a parting blow. Edward approached, coming up next to her elbow.
“Dr. Thompkins, I need to speak with you,” Edward said, voice low. She sighed.
“Now is not a good time, Ed—”
“It’s about Jim,” Edward said, cutting her off. That got her attention, and she took hold of his elbow, practically dragging him into the M.E.’s office.
“What’s going on?” Lee asked—no, demanded.
“The past few weeks, I’ve been trying to hide something from you,” Edward began. “The phone calls, coming in late, um…” Lee’s face softened, looking sympathetic.
“Ed, I know it’s been hard for you with Kristen leaving. You don’t have to explain—”
“I do,” he interrupted again. Lee was not following the script. So be it. “The truth is, I’ve been seeing someone.” Lee smiled brightly.
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Bingo.
“He is,” Edward replied dreamily, touching his cheek and staring into the middle distance.
“I’m so happy for you, really I am, but… what does this have to do with Jim?” Lee asked, brow furrowed.
“Oh, right,” Edward said, shaking his head as through snapping out of a reverie. Maybe I should have gone into theater. “The man I’ve been seeing… um. It’s Oswald Cobblepot.” Lee’s jaw dropped, and it took everything Edward had to contain his delight at her reaction.
“Penguin?” she asked.
“The very same,” Edward said, giggling like a love-struck teenager. He had a story to sell, after all.
“Okay, what does this have to do with Jim?” Lee asked, thoroughly finished entertaining his tangents.
“Oh, sorry.” He wasn’t, but he smacked himself in the forehead like he was. “Silly me. Jim is at my apartment with Oswald.”
“He… he’s with Penguin?” Lee asked, scanning his face.
“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’. “Did you want to come over?” Her faced darkened, and Edward felt the smallest flash of fear.
“Yes, I do.”
***
Gabe greeted them at the door and let them inside. Oswald had a large gun in hand and was standing in the middle of the room. Edward smiled at him and eyed Lee. Oswald smiled back just as Jim came into view, headed towards Lee.
“Lee,” Jim said, pulling her further into the room. Edward stepped over to Oswald, content to follow his lead for now.
“What the hell are you doing?” Lee asked, incredulous.
“I need to get you out of town. Penguin has a reliable man who can take you upstate. Things are gonna be unsettled here for a while,” Jim explained.
“Unsettled?”
“We're gonna take down Galavan,” Oswald clarified. Edward looped his arm through Oswald’s, hyperaware of Jim and Lee’s attention on them.
“Are you out of your mind?” Lee exclaimed, turning back to Jim.
“Ms. Thompkins, I can assure you...” Oswald began. Jim hand out a hand, cutting him off. The two lovebirds continued their spat, and Oswald turned his attention to Edward.
“I want you to go with her,” Oswald said. Edward blinked slowly at him.
“Excuse me?”
“Go upstate with Lee. Jim’s right, things are going to be unsettled, and I don’t want you getting caught up in it. We’ll handle things here.”
“I don’t like it,” Edward argued. “I can help you.”
“I’m sure you could, my friend,” Oswald said, shifting the gun and placing a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “But you are my only friend, and I don’t want anything to happen to you on my account. You’ve done so much for me, let me at least keep you safe.” Edward made to reply, freezing when he heard Lee’s confession.
“I’m pregnant.” Edward and Oswald rolled their eyes in perfect synchronization.
“There’s one more thing you can do,” Oswald told Edward. “We need all the help we can get, I want you to go back to the GCPD—”
“And I’ll bring Harvey back lickety-split,” Edward chirped, knowing exactly what he had in mind. He dropped a kiss on Oswald’s cheek for show and left to do his bidding.
***
As it turned out, he did better than that. By happy coincidence, he came across Harvey in the midst of a discussion with an older British gentleman and another handsome man in a long coat. A discussion concerning the invasion of Galavan’s tower. Oh, it was too perfect. He chuckled to himself and approached the trio.
“Something funny, Ed?” Harvey snapped.
“A diamond plate, a glowing grate, a place you never leave. Where am I?” Edward asked, eyes flicking between the two new faces. H already knew Harvey wouldn’t have a clue.
“Home,” the younger of the two answered.
“Correct,” Edward said. “I know where Jim Gordon is.”
“Take us there,” the older man demanded.
“Follow me, gentleman,” Edward said, beckoning them after him. Oh, he did so love this game.
***
They followed Edward’s car to his apartment, Lee and Jim outside with Oswald. Edward parked and cut the engine. He approached the scene curiously; it almost seemed like they were saying goodbye.
“What’s going on?” Edward asked, looking between them.
“Ms. Thompkins and Jim have decided to depart Gotham,” Oswald said, putting a hand on the small of his back.
“You can’t leave,” Edward said, eyes widening.
“And why is that?” Lee asked. Lucius, Harvey, and Alfred approached, answering for him.
“Galavan has Bruce,” Alfred said, eyes only for Jim Gordon. Jim looked to Lee, who sighed and took the keys from him, opening the driver’s door of the car.
“Do what you think is best,” Lee said, her voice colder and growing chillier as she continued, “Call me when it's over.”
“I insist that you go upstate with my man and take Edward with you,” Oswald told her. “It will be safer for all of you that way.”
“I’d prefer to stay behind with Mr. Fox and work on a backup plan,” Edward said, “You are all quite literally storming a tower with no idea as to how you’ll get in, how you’ll find Bruce and Galavan, what resistance you’ll face, or how you’ll get out.”
“Wait, that’s your plan?” Lucius said. “I would second a backup strategy, given the strong possibilities of failure.”
“Au contraire, Mr. Fox. Failure is not an option,” Oswald said. He turned to Edward, taking his hand. “Gabe is bringing your bag down, he’ll drive you and Ms. Thompkins.” Lee sighed again and opened the car door, moving to the trunk and pulling a small bag out. Just then, Gabe emerged with Edward’s duffel.
“You don’t even know how you’ll get in!” Edward argued. While he knew he should be playing the part of the Penguin’s resigned consort and go quietly and dutifully, much in the same way that Lee was currently tolerating Jim’s melodrama, he was astonished by the plan’s frank lack of… well, planning.
“I know a way.” Edward turned in time to see a teenage girl emerge from the alley next to his building.
“Who is she?” Lucius asked, the very same question Edward had in mind.
“Ed, Fox, that’s Cat,” Harvey said, making introductions. “Cat, Ed and Fox.”
“Nice to meet you,” Edward said, nodding at her.
“You know a way in?” Gordon asked, cutting to the chase.
“Yeah, I know a way in, Gordon,” Selina said, sounding a little exasperated at having to repeat herself.
“See?” Oswald said, turning to Edward. “Everything is working out, now please. Go.” Edward nodded, all out of reasons that would allow him to play the part of the concerned, innocent boyfriend and stick around for the action.
“Alright.” He nodded solemnly in reluctant agreement. And—because he never did anything by half measures—Edward leaned down and pressed a brief, chaste kiss to Oswald’s lips. That ought to sell it. The kiss was definitely worth seeing Harvey’s jaw drop. Oswald was blushing, lips slightly parted. Edward would have warned him if it wouldn’t have given the game up. “Goodbye, Mi—Oswald.”
Oswald squeezed his hand and let go, then in a whisper promised him, “I’ll see you again when Galavan is no more.”
Edward slipped into the backseat of the car, letting Lee have the front next to Gabe. He stretched his legs out along the seat and sighed, turning the ringer on the phone all the way up. He didn’t want to miss a call from Oswald. It was an hour and a half to get to the hideout, and an hour after that Oswald called him. He picked up after the first ring, hoping it hadn’t disturbed Lee, who was sleeping fitfully on the other side of the room.
“Ed?”
“I’m here,” he whispered, leaving the bedroom. He’d been sitting on the mattress, waiting for his call, unable to sleep.
“Galavan is dead.” Edward let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“I’m glad. How are you feeling?” Edward asked.
“I feel… I don’t know, Ed.” Edward frowned.
“You should be thrilled!” Edward said, going outside. “This is what you wanted. This is what we’ve been striving toward for months. You won, Oswald. I knew you would.” Oswald chuckled.
“Well, my friend, I could not have done it without you. However, I fear there may be… repercussions.” Edward’s frown deepened.
“What do you mean?”
“My men have abandoned me, Edward. They’ve found his body, and I’m wanted by the GCPD for his murder.” Edward put a hand on his forehead.
“How did this happen?” Edward asked, an edge of panic to his tone he could not conceal.
“The GCPD arrived, and I incapacitated Captain Barnes in order to get to Galavan.”
“Oh, no,” Edward whispered. If Captain Barnes had seen him take Galavan… and then Galavan was later found dead, Oswald was almost certainly going to be convicted. Unless…
“Did he see you?” Edward asked.
“What?”
“Did Barnes see you?”
“I… I don’t know,” Oswald said. “What does it matter?”
“Hold on a second. Then I want you to tell me everything,” Edward said, going back into the cabin. He found Gabe standing watch. “Is there another car?”
“Yeah, you goin’ somewhere?”
“Oswald needs help, where are the keys?” Gabe dug them out of his pocket.
“It’s the Ford in back, what kind of trouble is the Boss in?” he asked.
“Big trouble,” Edward said, taking the keys. “Oswald, are you still there?”
“I don’t want you involved, you’ve done enough for me, my friend. I’m going underground. I have nowhere to go that they won’t find me. Forgive me if I do not tell you where, it’s easier if you don’t know. No doubt Jim will question you.”
“Oswald wait, I can help you. Please, just stay on the phone. Tell me what happened.” He heard Oswald sigh.
“Alright, here’s how it went—”
***
Oswald had been on the run for nearly a month when the district attorney finally brought Jim in for questioning. Now Edward could finally make his move. Jim had lied under oath, even neglecting to mention that Harvey had been present as well. Barnes and the other Harvey were suspicious, and Jim was also lying to Lee. Jim had built the web for his own capture, now all Edward needed to do was make it collapse.
It was just after an extremely frustrating conversation with Harvey Bullock over liquid helium that things began to fall into place. Jim closed the door of the M.E. lab and turned to face him.
“Listen, Ed, there's something I wanted to talk to you about—”
“Penguin,” Edward said, hiding his hands behind his back to disguise their trembling.
“Yes.”
“You want to know the nature of my relationship with him,” Edward said, cutting to the chase.
“Yes,” Jim said, a little more emphatically.
“Because you're concerned I aided and abetted a known criminal,” Edward said, keeping his voice carefully monotone.
“Did you?” Edward sighed. He’d had a month to practice this story.
“I found Mr. Cobblepot wounded and dying in the woods. I nursed him back to health. He owed me his life, which is why I trusted him when he said he had changed his ways. I told him about Kristen, and he used that vulnerability against me. I fell for him. It was an innocent mistake.”
“Got him! We got him!” a voice shouted from outside.
“I wonder what that is,” Edward said, dread sinking in. In the bullpen there was applause as Barnes entered, holding Oswald by the arm.
“Silence!” Barnes demanded, his voice echoing through the room. “What are you, a bunch of cheerleaders? This is not a game! This is our job! And this... specimen... this is just one sad, pathetic skell. There are plenty of scumbags out there. Plenty. So stop waving your pom-poms and go catch some!” Edward could not even hope to hide his worried expression. Everything had to go perfectly.
“Yes, stare all you want. Big whoop. You got me. I'm cool,” Oswald went on, completely unamused at their gawking. “It's all good.”
“I said I'd catch him. And I did,” Edward overheard Barnes saying.
“Yes, sir,” Jim replied.
“Now we'll learn the truth of what really happened to Galavan,” Barned said. Indeed.
If not for Edward’s insistence, Oswald would have taken the blame for Galavan’s murder. But Edward had seen an opportunity. There was no physical evidence tying him to the crime, no eyewitnesses, nothing. In fact, if one didn’t know better, it almost looked like Oswald was being framed. Oswald had been resigned to his eventual imprisonment, had tried to convince Edward that his best option was an insanity plea. Edward had countered with a better option: a verdict declaring him innocent, and the incarceration of Jim Gordon. While Edward had nothing against him before this, he was resentful of Jim’s hypocrisy and willingness to let Oswald rot when he’d been the one to pull the trigger. It had taken some convincing, but eventually he’d gotten Oswald’s story straight.
Oswald would vehemently deny hitting Barnes with the vase. Barnes had sustained a head injury and had been facing the other direction. It would be easy to convince a jury that any recollection he did have was a false memory, implanted by Jim Gordon’s statements that he had seen Oswald. This was further backed by the fact that Jim had not warned Barnes that Oswald was behind him. Either he was in cahoots with Oswald and had wanted Barnes incapacitated, or it was another one of Jim’s associates.
Oswald’s story was this: he had been delayed by the stairs. Harvey Bullock, with no physical disability to speak of, had struggled to climb the tower due to his weight and physical fitness. Oswald had, in reality, taken a different route once the shooting had begun to avoid Galavan’s lackeys. But the result was the same. Barnes and his people had not seen him at any point, therefore it was impossible to place him anywhere near Galavan. Furthermore, Jim had left Harvey out of his story to Harvey Dent. A suspicious oversight that Edward had noticed in the transcript. Perhaps Jim was protecting him, or perhaps he had forgotten, but either way, the information could be spun to look like a conspiracy. The GCPD officers that had arrived, and Barnes himself, had seen Bullock in the tower. But then he’d seemingly vanished, only to show up at work the next morning. Yet not a single officer had wondered why he was on scene before the rest of them, and then left the scene prematurely as well.
Forensic science was essentially story telling. You were given the pieces, and then you had to craft an explanation that fit all of the evidence neatly, into a convenient and appropriate tale. There was a dearth of physical evidence linking Oswald to the crime, as in almost none. Apart, of course, from a single black umbrella that had been shoved down Galavan’s throat. A gesture that was so on the nose, it could very easily be spun as to look like Oswald was being framed by a conspiracy inside of the GCPD.
This was the story he would bring to his long-time friend, Harvey Dent, and Harvey would believe him. Most damning of all was the bullet that had been fired into Galavan’s skull. It was police issue, fired from a handgun. Any person who had been there that night could attest that Oswald had been wielding a large shotgun. It was almost too easy.
After Barnes finished his interrogation, Edward crept toward the filing cabinet next to the cells, next to the one that Oswald was in.
“Psst,” Edward said, trying to draw his attention. “Psst.”
“Ed?” Oswald called, turning around slightly.
“Shh. Don't look at me. I'm not supposed to be talking to you,” Edward cautioned. “You doing okay? I haven’t seen you in a while, you look kind of funky.” Oswald laughed, and Edward was glad to hear it.
“I confess I’ve felt better,” he admitted.
“How did the interrogation go?” Edward asked.
“Excellent. I believe I already have Barnes doubting that he saw me at all.” Edward’s eyes squeezed shut in relief, and he gripped the edge of the cabinet.
“That’s great news, Oswald. I’m going to take this to Harvey. He’ll drop your charges entirely if I convince him there isn’t enough evidence to go to trial, and with your testimony he’ll go after Jim. Barnes is already suspicious. I think it won’t be long now until—”
“James Gordon, you are under arrest.” Edward smiled.
“Until that. I’ll talk to you soon, Oswald.” He needed to talk to Lee before anyone else could, taking off toward the lab.
“Lee, I have something to tell you,” he said, out of breath. Lee put down her paperwork and looked up at him.
“What’s up, Ed?” Edward looked nervously around the room, then pointed to the door.
“Can I close the door?” Lee looked skeptical, then nodded. Edward took a seat across from her. He knew his height could make him unintentionally imposing, and he needed to appear vulnerable, distraught.
“They’re arresting Jim for killing Galavan,” he said, delivering the worst news for her first. She put her pencil down.
“No, that can’t be,” she said, staring through him. “Penguin took Galavan—”
“No, Lee, he didn’t,” Edward said. “Oswald never even saw Galavan that night.”
“You expect me to believe that my fiancé killed Galavan, and not the depraved sociopath that wanted revenge on him for killing his mother? Get a grip, Edward. Penguin’s messed with your head,” Lee said, becoming angrier with each work that passed from her lips. Edward remained docile, quiet.
“Just hear me out for a minute, Lee. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I didn’t think I could prove it. Did you preform the autopsy in Galavan?” Her brow furrowed, and then she nodded.
“What did you find?”
“Well… it was a little hard to miss the umbrella shoved down his throat,” Lee snidely remarked, still in denial. Edward would bring her around.
“And the fatal wound?” he continued. Lee looked pensive for a moment.
“A bullet to the head.”
“What kind of gun would have caused that injury?” Edward asked.
“A handgun,” Lee answered without pause.
“And what kind of gun did you see Oswald holding that night?” Edward asked. Check. Lee paused and did not answer. It was an answer in and of itself.
“I analyzed the bullet. Police issue. No question. I’m sure you saw that yourself, though. It’s still in evidence if you’d rather someone more impartial than I take a look, but I assure you they’ll come to the same conclusion.”
“Oswald could have taken Jim’s gun,” Lee said.
“Did Jim tell you that?” She did not answer. “If Oswald did take his gun, it would have been fairly important for Jim to mention that, don’t you think? I imagine he’s still carrying it.” Check and mate. Edward didn’t need to convince Lee that Oswald was innocent, he only needed to cast doubt on his guilt.
“Oh god,” Lee said, placing a hand over her stomach. “Oh my god. I knew he was lying to me, Edward. I knew something was off.”
“I’m sorry, Lee,” Edward said. “Oswald didn’t do this. He’s innocent of this crime, as much as he would have liked to be the one to kill Galavan. Promise me, Lee. Promise me that if they call you to testify on the autopsy you’ll tell the truth,” Edward begged. He even managed to make tears well in his eyes. Though it was not his intention, he did find he was becoming a little choked up.
“Ed, I won’t lie on the stand,” Lee said.
“It’s just that,” he gasped. “I think the whole precinct is in on it. Jim never even mentioned that Harvey was there, and you saw him leave with them, same as I did. But no one said anything about him in the reports, and he just showed up for work the next day like nothing happened. He hasn’t even been interviewed by the district attorney. I don’t trust any of them.” He rubbed at his eyes, then looked back up at her.
“I only trust you and Barnes to do the right thing. I know you don’t like Oswald, but I—” cue the waterworks. “I love him. He didn’t do this. I know you love Jim too, but he’s lying to you.”
“I do love him,” Lee said, “This is all very difficult for me to process. Do you mind…?”
“I’ll leave you alone,” Edward said, standing. “And Lee?”
“Yes?” he moved around the desk and bent down to hug her as she sat, whispering a quick, ‘thank you’ and then fleeing from the room. Now to see a man about some evidence.
***
“Ed, what are you doing here? I though we’d be going over the case over dinner—”
“I’m not here about the case, Harvey,” Edward said, sweeping into the office. “It’s about the mayor.”
“Galavan?” Harvey said, peering over Edward’s shoulder at the open door. He walked over to it and pulled it shut. “Come in, sit down. You’re shaking.” He was, and it wasn’t even an act this time. What happened next would make or break this case. Harvey touched his bicep, and he let out a breath.
“Jim Gordon shot Galavan,” Edward said. Harvey frowned.
“Ed, I’m suspicious too, but unless you have evidence for me—”
“Barnes has already placed him under arrest. I’m sure he’ll be contacting you soon. They bought Penguin in today, Harv.”
“They found him?” Edward nodded. “That’s great news, he’s our main suspect—”
“Except that he talked, Harvey, and it wasn’t what you might have expected to hear,” Edward said.
“What’s his story?” Harvey asked.
“That night, Jim, Penguin, Alfred Pennyworth, Selina Kyle, and Harvey Bullock went to the tower, armed for the purpose of rescuing Bruce Wayne and apprehending Galavan,” Edward began.
“Jim never mentioned Bullock,” Harvey interrupted.
“That’s what I said. Neither did any of the cops in their reports. He wasn’t brought in for questioning, and he showed up at work the next day like it was nothing. But that’s not all,” Edward said.
“Go on,” Harvey said.
“Penguin has an injury to his leg, he said he got slowed up and that by the time he got to the top of the tower, the fight was done. He went after Galavan and never found him. When the GCPD arrived, he ran. That’s where his story ends,” Edward said. “The next morning, he found that he was a wanted man, and he went underground. Until today, that is.”
“Why should I believe that story?” Harvey said.
“Because the only person who places Oswald at the scene with Galavan is Jim Gordon,” Edward explained. “There’s no evidence, only his statement that Penguin somehow snuck up on Barnes, knocked him unconscious, and then got away before Gordon could stop him. His story leaves more questions than answers. Why didn’t he warn Barnes, who was in the middle of the room, that Penguin was behind him? A man who regularly uses a cane managed to take out the Captain of the GCPD without Gordon having enough time to make so much as a peep of warning? And then this very same man apprehended and absconded with his unwilling kidnapping victim while Gordon was still unhurt and conscious. Gordon didn’t at least follow him? Tail his car and call for backup? At the very least, he’s guilty of dereliction of duty,” Edward said.
“I’m not hearing any solid evidence, Ed,” Harvey said.
“You don’t have any solid evidence on Penguin, either,” Edward pointed out. “He’d just be easy for a jury to convict. A perfect circumstantial case. Too perfect, if you ask me.”
“What are you trying to say, Ed?” Harvey asked. “Please get to the point.”
“I’m saying that Galavan was shot by a police issue handgun, and Jim made no mention of Oswald appropriating his. I’m saying that the last person to see Galavan alive was Jim Gordon, as the Captain can attest. I’m saying that the man Gordon claims killed Galavan was, on the contrary, not seen by any members of the GCPD. I’m saying that Penguin shoving an umbrella down his victim’s throat is the action of an insane man, a stupid man, or a man who wants to be caught, none of which apply to him. But it would be the action of someone who was trying to frame him,” Edward said.
“You think Jim set Penguin up,” Harvey said, leaning in with his hands on the desk.
“I think you can prove it beyond a reasonable doubt,” Edward said. “Jim lied about Bullock. I think he’s lying about Penguin. He’s the perfect man to frame, given his history with Galavan. You certainly have more evidence that Jim was the killer than Penguin, that’s for sure.” Harvey considered this for a moment.
“There’s just one flaw in this story. Barnes claims Penguin hit him with a vase,” Harvey said. “That puts him at the scene.”
“Barnes never said that in his original statement, it was only after Penguin became the suspect that he assumed that was what he saw. And anyways, he was knocked unconscious from behind with a vase, Harvey. Any expert witness could cast doubt on the fact that he really saw Penguin. Regardless, he’s not even sure himself anymore,” Edward said. Something about his statement made Harvey’s face change.
“Ed, how do you know all this?” He stuttered and then bit his lip.
“I… have been speaking with Penguin,” Edward said. Harvey’s brows shot up.
“How many times have you… spoken?” Harvey asked.
“After his arrest?” Edward asked. Now Harvey’s eyes widened.
“You spoke before his arrest?” Edward sighed.
“Well, I’d rather have you find out from me than from Gordon. Oswald was living with me,” Edward said. Harvey sat back in his seat.
“Are you and Penguin... involved?” Harvey asked. Edward didn’t even need to generate the blush, it occurred naturally.
“Yes,” Edward confirmed. Too many people had seen their ruse to try and lie about it now. And it had served its purpose: no one suspected Edward for a thing.
“How am I supposed to believe anything you just told me?” Harvey asked.
“You don’t have to believe me. Look at the evidence, and you’ll come to the same conclusion that I did,” Edward said plainly. “It’s the only story that explains all of the evidence, Harvey. You know I’m right.” Harvey stared at him for several long moments, then leaned across the desk, voice low.
“I don’t want you anywhere near this case, Ed. Your connection to Penguin could blow the whole thing out of the water, understood?”
“Noted,” Edward said. “It’s your case now.”
***
With the charges against Oswald dropped by the district attorney, he’d moved back in with Edward. His empire was in ruins, and there were new players ruling the Underworld, but no matter. The pair of them schemed and visited his mother’s grave with lilies from time to time, grateful that Galavan’s true killer was being prosecuted. When the trial was over, they would set about reclaiming Oswald’s throne, together. They sat in on the last cross-examination before the jury would deliberate.
“And what did Jim Gordon tell you when you saw him pointing the gun at Galavan, right after you asked him to put the gun on the ground?” Harvey asked, pacing in front of the stand.
“He told me he’d done nothing wrong,” Barnes said.
“And what did you say next?”
“I told him that I wanted to believe him. That we were gonna to proceed by the book, handle things the right way,” Barnes said.
“And what was Mr. Gordon’s response to that idea? The idea of bringing Galavan in to receive his due process?”
“Objection, leading the witness,” Jim’s lawyer piped up.
“Your honor, the fact that Jim Gordon believed Galavan would not face prosecution for his crimes is vital to this case,” Harvey reasoned.
“I’ll allow it,” the judge replied.
“Please answer the question, Captain. What was Mr. Gordon’s response when you told him you planned on following the rules of due process?” Barnes looked directly at Jim as he responded.
“He told me I was making a mistake.” This statement was clearly not lost on the jury. Edward felt giddy, but Oswald was oddly somber beside him.
“No further questions,” Harvey said. “Thank you, Captain.”
Barnes was no use to the defense, refusing to support his second statement that Oswald had hit him with the vase. Without that statement, Jim’s case was doomed. He was the only person linking Oswald to Galavan’s death, apart from the fact that Oswald certainly had the motivation and a prior attempt. But there was solid physical evidence linking him to crime, and several eyewitnesses. Harvey’s closing statement was incredible. Edward wished he could applaud. In a surprising turn for a murder case, the jury deliberated for an hour only.
“We the jury find that the prosecution has proved beyond a reasonable doubt that Jim Gordon is guilty of first degree murder—” Edward didn’t hear the rest, turning to Oswald with a wide smile as the court erupted into cheers and boos alike. He looked a little forlorn.
“It’s over,” Edward said. “You’re a free man. Harvey won’t pursue any charges against you, I promise.”
“Did you date him?” Oswald asked, eyes fixed on the attorney.
“Uh, we had a—a brief fling in undergrad, yes. Harvey was a little bi-curious and I—I was curious, too. We’re really just friends, though. We have hardly anything in common aside from the criminal justice connection, and I’m not attracted to him in that way. He’s not into me, either. It was just experimentation,” Edward said, finding himself rambling. “Um, why?”
“You know I’m gay, right?” Oswald asked. Edward’s jaw dropped.
“I, ah. I didn’t really think to conjecture about your sexuality,” he said, voice pitched a bit higher than he liked.
“Well I am,” Oswald said.
“That’s nice,” Edward replied, immediately wanting to hit himself in the face with something. Lee was leaning over the front bannister, speaking to Jim while the guards came in to haul him off to prison. Her face was like stone. Edward didn’t think he would ever understand that strength for as long as he lived.
“We should get going,” Oswald said, “This place is turning into a madhouse.” And so it was. They exited quietly and went back to Edward’s apartment, miraculously avoiding reporters. Edward veered for the bed and fell back upon in.
“It’s really over, huh?” Edward said, staring at the ceiling.
“It is,” Oswald said. Edward frowned.
“You’re not happy.”
“I’m not,” Oswald said.
“Why?” Edward asked him.
“Jim and I were equally guilty,” Oswald said.
“Jim could have gotten away with it if he hadn’t tried to throw you under the bus,” Edward said. “This was his own fault.”
“That’s not what I mean, Edward, I mean—you’re the reason I’m free. Not only that, but you’ve saved my life. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you,” Oswald told him. He sat on the bed and covered Edward’s hand with his own. Edward sat up and smiled at him.
“Just keep being my friend,” Edward said, and there was something sad in Oswald’s eyes that he didn’t like as Oswald smiled back at him.
***
They grew closer over the following weeks, planning their moves against Butch. Edward found himself wishing at times for an opportunity to pretend to kiss Oswald. Found himself fantasizing about fainting and coming to as Oswald gave him mouth-to-mouth. Wanted to hold Oswald and be held but was relegated to the occasional hug. He was mostly frustrated at himself, because it was clear that his hero crush on Oswald had persisted and become… a crush. Only he would be so fallible as to develop a crush on the man he was meant to only be pretending to date.
His indecision over whether or not to ever attempt to make fiction into reality might never have resolved, if not for the tipping point soon to come. He and Oswald had a routine. Occasional visits to his mother’s grave; Oswald bought flowers, Edward would drive. Edward would linger under a nearby tree while Oswald spoke to her, on the lookout for any trouble. Today brought a slight variation. It was pouring out, and they had one umbrella between them. Edward was loathe to wait in the car, and at Oswald’s invitation he accompanied him to the grave this time. He put his arm through Oswald’s while Oswald held the umbrella over their heads, Edward smiling at the imagery.
Oswald, former kingpin and umbrella boy, was now holding an umbrella for him. It was sweet, really. Edward held the flowers in his free hand, keeping the white lilies close to his chest. He needed to brush up on his flower language, but if he wasn’t mistaken, the current bouquet in his hand meant, ‘It's Heavenly to Be with You’. He immediately decided to pretend that his cheeks were flushed from the cold.
They arrived at Gertrude’s final resting place. Edward laid the flowers down and straightened up, looping his arm back through Oswald’s and smiling at him. Oswald nodded in thanks and turned to address her headstone.
“The weather is miserable, and I couldn’t just leave Edward without an umbrella. I know you would have berated my manners if I did. Remember when I was a boy and you made sure I brought my umbrella to school every day, just in case it rained. You were worried I might catch cold.” Oswald chuckled.
“She sounds like she was a wonderful mother,” Edward said, oddly moved by the tale. His own mother had not been so… caring.
“The best of them,” Oswald said.
“She would have been proud of you,” Edward told him. Oswald sniffed and ran a hand under his eye.
“To be honest… I don’t know if I would have made it without you,” Oswald told him, linking their fingers together.
“We don’t have to wonder,” Edward said, holding his hand a little tighter.
“Hello,” a voice called. They both turned to see a gentleman in a grey hat, carrying a bouquet of… lilies.
“I'm terribly sorry. I-I don't mean to interrupt,” he said, approaching.
“Not at all,” Oswald said, smiling insincerely. That was when he noticed them, eyes narrowed. “Lilies.”
“Her favorite, if memory serves,” the man said. Edward was instantly suspicious. How had this man known Gertrude? The lilies weren’t any kind of proof. Anyone who had followed them, followed their routine, would know that they always brought lilies to this grave.
“Yes, they were,” Oswald hesitantly confirmed.
“Did you know her?” Edward chimed in, lips pulled tight in a line that might pass for a smile.
“A long time ago. I found her again only in death, I'm afraid. I'm Elijah Van Dahl.” He offered his hand to Edward.
“Edward Nygma,” he said, noticing the man had a weak grip. Perhaps not an assassin, he didn’t really have the looks of one. Or perhaps he was just particularly adept at subterfuge. “I’m Oswald’s boyfriend.”
“Oswald Cobblepot,” Oswald clarified, taking his hand in turn and shooting Edward a look. Edward shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly. He didn’t have an explanation this time, only that he was suspicious of this man’s intentions, and any possible encroachment on his connection to Oswald. That, and they were holding hands, so he might as well go with the obvious answer.
"Cobblepot? You're related to Gertrud?” Elijah asked.
“My mother,” Oswald confirmed.
“Mother?” he paused. “You're Gertrud's son?”
“Yes,” Oswald said.
“I'm sorry,” Edward cut in, “How did you know his mother exactly—"
“How old are you?” he interrupted, addressing Oswald.
“Excuse me?” Oswald said, taken aback by Elijah’s sudden urgency.
“How old are you?” he repeated, stepping closer. Edward pulled them both back.
“He’s thirty-one, what are you on about?” Edward said.
“Gertrud left... 31 years ago, yes. That's right. Oh, my God, she... she never told me!”
“Told you what?” Oswald asked. Edward already knew, dreading his next words.
“That I had a son,” Elijah said, eyes wide with wonder as he stared at Oswald.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Edward said, trying not only to kill the moment, but to do so as quickly and lethally as possible. “Oswald, let’s go.”
“Ed, this man—” Oswald began.
“Is no one we know,” Edward said.
“I may just be his father!” Elijah said, outraged.
“No,” Edward said darkly. “You’re not. Biologically, maybe, but otherwise? You’re nothing to him.”
“Edward!” Oswald snapped. “Come with me, now. Mr. Van Dahl, if you’d wait here a moment…?” He nodded in assent, and Oswald dragged Edward off by his elbow behind the tree.
“Oswald, you can’t trust him. Just because he might be your father doesn’t mean he has your best interests at heart,” Edward said, whispering fiercely under his breath in the hopes that Elijah couldn’t hear.
“You just lied to him about us being together; who’s the less trustworthy here?” Oswald whisper-yelled, checking to see that Edward was still under the umbrella.
“I lied to him, not to you, don’t equate the two,” Edward said, pointing out the flaw in his logic. “You know I would never betray you, but you don’t know him at all!”
“You’re being overly paranoid, Ed. What are you really afraid of? Just tell me!” Oswald said, his tone crescendoing into an angered demand, stepping closer into Edward’s space as if to intimidate him. Edward turned away. A pause, and then, softer, “Edward, I know something else has been going on with you. Please tell me. These past few weeks you’ve been so distant and you—I can’t stand to see you unhappy, after everything you’ve done for me… because you’ve made me so happy. I don’t want to lose you. Please, just tell me what’s wrong.” Edward gathered his courage and faced him.
“You’re all I have, Oswald. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to ruin that, but—” he faltered. There was no going back if he confessed his feelings. Perhaps…
“I’m always going to want to be the most important person in your life,” he concluded. It wasn’t a lie, and it was certainly part of the reason he was so wary of the appearance of this man who claimed to have fathered Oswald. Oswald frowned.
“This won’t change that,” Oswald said, grabbing his bicep. “You always will be, Edward. You don’t even realize—” Oswald cut himself off suddenly.
“Realize what?” Edward asked, suddenly very hopeful.
“Realize that… that you accept parts of me I don’t think even my mother could fully handle. I certainly don’t expect this… this father to,” Oswald said, lowering his voice significantly. “That being said, I still don’t want to begin this by lying to him already. Besides, hasn’t this ruse gone on long enough?”
There it was. The impasse. The decision to speak now or forever hold his peace.
“The truth is—” Edward began, glimpsing briefly into Oswald’s eyes and then fixating on the grass. Where had his words all gone? They’d abandoned him here, at this crucial turning point. Perhaps this wasn’t meant to be, after all.
“Go on,” Oswald urged, a hand on his shoulder to steady him. He looked into Oswald’s eyes and found that the words he needed earlier had fled there, waiting for him. He uttered them now.
“Oswald… I don’t want to stop being your boyfriend.” He couldn’t take it back now. Oswald’s eyes flickered over his face, cataloguing, imaging his expression like a pair of lasers. He felt paralyzed. Oswald’s gaze alone powerful enough to pin him down, a butterfly on display. Oswald could spread him any way he wanted, so long as he never sent him away.
“You don’t have to,” Oswald decided, letting his umbrella fall carelessly to the ground as he seized Edward’s face between his hands. His mouth collided wet and messy against Edward’s, whose hands came up between them to rest on Oswald’s chest in surprise. It took him a moment to realize they were both frozen, lips mashed awkwardly against one another’s. Tentatively, he snuck his hand up Oswald’s chest, fingers trailing up his neck as Edward changed the angle of the kiss, fighting against the steel grip of Oswald’s hands on his face. Oswald seemed to realize that Edward had a better idea of what he was doing, hands falling to Edward’s waist so that he was no longer obstructing him. Edward locked their lips together, parting his against Oswald’s and then pressing more firmly against him. He let his eyes flutter shut as Oswald pushed back, lips sealed around Edward’s bottom lip, and it was perfect. Rain slicked their faces as Oswald pulled him in closer by his hips, Edward opening his mouth against Oswald’s and tasting rainwater on his lips. He pushed a hand into Oswald’s wet hair and leaned into him, compensating for how tightly Oswald had them pressed by craning his head down further. When they parted his glasses were fogged and speckled with raindrops, and he couldn’t see the expression on Oswald’s face.
“Well, maybe one day,” Oswald said, wistful.
“One day what?” Edward asked, pulling his glasses off. At this point he would see better without them.
“One day you may have to stop being my boyfriend,” Oswald told him, matter-of-fact.
“Oh,” Edward said, unsure as to how he was meant to take that. They’d just begun, and Oswald was already thinking of the end?
“I mean, who knows what may happen down the road. I may decide to promote you to fiancé, or even husband.” This close, Edward could still see his expression. As ill-adapted as he was to reading faces, even he could not mistake the fondness apparent in Oswald’s. Oswald was teasing him, and at such a time!
“Who knows,” Edward replied, an invocation. He could only hope to be so lucky some day. For now, he took Oswald’s rain-slick cheeks between his palms and sealed their lips. Who knew?