Chapter Text
Light shimmered above, warped by the waves and obscuring his last glimpse of him. Edward Nygma. Whatever he felt for him, it did not matter now. Edward had already decided he was better off without Oswald. That he had to pay for his actions. Actions born from love.
No. Oswald knew better now. It had been selfishness that prompted him to kill the librarian. He just wanted Edward to notice. To see him, really see him, the way he saw Ed. Life only gives you one true love, his mother had told him, and Oswald believed Edward was his with all his heart. Why couldn't Ed see that? See that he needed Oswald just as much as he needed Ed. Two kindred spirits destined to meet, destined to rule. They could have had everything together. They did. Until the librarian stole everything that should have been his from him. Oswald knew Edward was his. It was selfishness. Even now.
Oswald wished he could have been better. That his love for Edward had been selfless. Maybe things could have been different. These thoughts followed Oswald into the dark. He was quickly sinking, his blood clouding the murky water around him and swallowing him in its cold embrace. He should just give in to that embrace. Let the water claim him. Take away these painful thoughts and all the hurt.
His chest burned. It turned out heartache was a physical pain to rival the bullet in his gut. Or maybe that was the lack of oxygen, the loss of blood, as Oswald's heart continued to frantically thump. He wished it would stop. Accept fate and welcome death. He had wanted to. Edward wanted him to. That was why he pulled the trigger. That was why he pushed Oswald over the edge of the dock. That was why he looked at him that way. That look…
It confused Oswald. Edward's expression had contradicted both his actions and words. Edward had said he wanted to make Oswald suffer, so why did it look like Ed was suffering too. Pain had been etched in Edward's expression even as he watched Oswald’s body sink in the water. Did he really want him dead?
Oswald might as well be dead. He had nothing left. Edward had made sure of that. He found himself knocked down once more, sunken to the lowest point he had ever been, like his body in the water. But even as his will was broken and he felt ready to give in, his heart kept beating and something wrapped around his body pulling him from the water. No. He just wanted it to end. Oswald let go, left his life behind, seeking the relief of the abyss. He lost consciousness before reaching the surface.
~*~
Consciousness came back to him slowly, like grains of sand running through an hourglass, scattered pieces at a time. And the world seemed muddled, like it was experienced through a filter. Maybe this should have been concerning, but it wasn't. It was sort of nice actually. It softened the sharp edges of this cruel existence and took away his pain. Or maybe it was the drugs?
The man blinked his eyes open and could smell the pungent, spicy scent of some strange planty paste spread over his wound. He was wounded? How did that happen? The man did not puzzle over it too long, however. There were more important things for him to figure out.
"Who am I?" the man murmured aloud.
"Bout time you woke up." a feminine voice teased, "You've been, like, asleep for days."
A young woman had just walked into the room to stand at his bedside. The man looked her over. Red hair, freckles, couldn't be older than 20 years of age. Maybe younger? And he had no idea who she was.
"Who are you? Where am I?" He questioned, looking around the rest of the room, which aside from the bed he was lying in, was covered in a variety of plants.
"Oh! Right, introductions. My name's Ivy. Ivy Pepper." the young woman chirped eagerly.
The name didn't ring any bells. But he wasn't even sure who he was, so maybe this wasn't surprising.
"And who am I?" he asked next.
"You don't remember?" a worried frown crossed the girl's face.
The man shook his head. His mind was as blank as the white sheets covering him. He had no idea who he was, how he got here, or what happened to him before he got here (wherever here was).
"Hmm. Well, guess you can't mentor me then." Ivy sighed, "You were the Penguin. Then you were the mayor. And now I suppose you're just Oswald Cobblepot."
"My name is Oswald?" Oswald asked still slightly confused.
"That's right, Pengy." Ivy patted his shoulder reassuringly, "Do you remember anything from your past?"
Oswald thought for a moment, trying desperately to recall something. Anything. His eyes scanned the room, before settling on a pot of delicate white flowers sitting in the far corner. Something stirred in his mind. Something warm, soft, comforting. Arms wrapped around him, gently stroking his back. Clucking her tongue and fussing over her little boy. Soft smiles filled with pride. All the love he could ever need... all lost too soon. Memories now too painful to linger in. The feeling felt both hollow and so full that he might burst with it, all at the same time. Tears trickled down his cheeks.
"My mother was Gertrud Kappelput. She... she liked Lilies." Oswald answered with a croak.
~*~
In the months that followed his rescue, Oswald's physical wounds healed, although the scar on his belly would always remain. His memory, however, saw little improvement. Bits and pieces would come back to him as time passed, but his past remained shrouded in ambiguity.
Ivy was able to fill in some of the blanks, but he discovered through their conversations that he and Ivy had not even been acquaintances in his previous life. She was able to tell him a little about his criminal past, but only information that was public knowledge. Ivy told him that all the past charges had been dropped by reason of insanity and that he had already been "cured" since then. However, Ivy continued on to describe how his criminal activities had not ceased after his release from Arkham. Oswald was concerned when he learned of this. But with a giggle, Ivy assured Oswald that although everyone knew he must be guilty of something, the GCPD had yet to get any accusations to stick. She also informed him of the time he'd spent as mayor of Gotham, up to the point of his debacle of an interview broadcast for the entire city to see. It was something he was glad he couldn't remember. That was the last Ivy had seen of him, until she had found and rescued him. It didn't sound like a worthwhile life. Not the sort of life his mother would have been proud of. And apparently, it had resulted in his being shot and dumped in the river. Everyone believed Oswald Cobblepot was dead. He decided to turn over a new leaf.
"What if we give up this criminal business?" Oswald mused, turning to see Ivy's reaction, "What if we... well, what if we opened a flower shop instead? You like flowers."
Ivy laughed. Her smile was like the sunlight. No wonder the plants loved her.
"I do like plants, but fresh-cut flowers are out. I won't cut my babies." Ivy simpered, "We could only sell potted flowers and plants."
"That's more like a nursery." Oswald fussed. It sounded like more work than a simple flower shop. But if it would make Ivy happy, "Deal. We'll open a shop that only sells flowers that are potted. No large scale plants though. No trees."
"Imagine a little shop with flowers of every color. And, like, that earthy smell." Ivy envisioned wistfully, "You know plants make much better company than most people."
"Well, you will have to get used to dealing with people, Ivy. I can't have you turning away potential paying customers." Oswald laughed as Ivy pouted.
"I will only sell my babies to good people. If I don't like them, then I don't need their money. Our flowers will only go to loving, caring homes." Ivy insisted.
"Of course! Only the best for our flowers." Oswald agreed.
The two continued on like this, building up their fantasy shop in their minds. It sounded like a dream. A sweet dream that had no place in a city like Gotham, but it didn't stop them from dreaming it anyway. Ivy wanted the best soil to spoil their plants. Despite the extra cost, Oswald was willing to indulge her in this. After all, happy plants would make better products. Oswald also decided that they must sell every sort of lily. Lilies for his mother. His mother would have liked to see her son in such a business. It may not be the most ambitious undertaking of his life, but it was honest work, and she would have appreciated the beauty of such a shop. Oswald sighed. Maybe if he had been involved in such work before, his mother would still be with him. The melancholy thought threatened to sour the mood. Ivy didn't let him mope for long however, drawing him back into their shared dream with plans for selling vegetable seeds and quality pots as well. And the more they described it, the more Oswald desired it. A little peace and happiness. And Ivy to share it with. Maybe someday...
A few more months and their dream became a reality.
~*~
It was Ivy's secret. Since their discussion, she had finally found the flower shop of their dreams. What did it matter to her if the place was already occupied? It was easy enough to convince the original owners of the shop to hand over the deed and keys and simply leave. Not that they'd had much say in the matter, compelled to obey her every command under the influence of her special mind-controlling perfume.
With them out of the way, she set to work tidying up the shop and making some changes to make it more their own. She gave the walls a fresh coat of paint, swept the floors, and changed out the sign above the door. Ivy also removed the sad stands of cut flowers and replaced them with shelves for the potted plants they would sell instead. All of this she did on her own. Ivy wanted it to be a surprise. She could just imagine Oswald's grumpy scowl morphing into a delighted grin as he took in the cheery lavender walls, neat aisles of potted plants, and the handmade logo she painted herself in the shop's storefront window. It featured the silhouette of a lily with the words 'Pepper & Pot's' in looping letters beneath. She hoped Oswald wouldn't mind the abbreviation of his name, but she didn't think labeling the place as being owned by the former (disgraced) Mayor Cobblepot was the best way to advertise themselves. Besides, the shop name just sounded better this way. It had a nice ring to it.
After all the preparations were completed, Ivy could not contain her eagerness. Of course she decided to show off her hard work to Oswald immediately. She couldn't wait for him to see it! Oswald trudged along behind her, annoyed by the lack of any sort of explanation for their sudden outing. When they neared their destination, Ivy stopped Oswald to blindfold him.
“There is no way I'm letting you cover my eyes with that. You'll walk me straight into a gutter.” Oswald huffed, swiping her hands away.
"Don't you trust me yet?" Ivy whined.
"No. The last time you helped me walk, you dropped me on the floor." Oswald complained.
"You were heavier than I expected." Ivy said with a shrug, "Besides, I'm not carrying you this time. Just leading you. C'mon, please?"
Oswald sighed. The sooner he agreed to this, the sooner he could be done with this foolishness. He reluctantly relented, closing his eyes. He felt the fabric covering over his eyes as Ivy chattered excitedly about how he would so not regret this. Oswald very much doubted that but didn't comment further. He felt her hands settle on his shoulders and guiding him forward. A few paces away, they turned a corner and came to a stop. Oswald could hear the creak of a door swinging open.
“Watch your step.” Ivy warned.
“I don't know how I'm supposed to watch anything with my eyes covered.” Came Oswald's sarcastic reply.
“Just trying to help.” Ivy muttered.
They resumed walking once more. Oswald took an exaggeratedly high step forward, heeding Ivy's warning, despite his earlier comment. Once inside, she drew him into the center of the space and removed the cloth from his face. As Oswald opened his eyes, his mouth fell open in astonishment. It was beautiful!
“Ivy, what is all this?” Oswald asked, peering at the nearest flowers with a gentle smile.
“It's our shop, silly.” Ivy giggled, “The one you and me were talking about.”
“Ours?” Oswald wondered aloud, breathless, “but how?”
"Do you like it?" Ivy inquired, shifting nervously.
For a moment, Oswald was at a loss for words. Ivy had taken his daydream and made it into reality. He truly was touched and still couldn't believe she would do all of this for him. That she cared enough to try to make him happy. She'd already done so much for him saving his life when she hardly knew him, and now this! It left him feeling overwhelmed with emotion. Somehow, even without his memory, Oswald knew that having someone care about him this way wasn't common for him. But Ivy had proven herself a true friend.
"I love it." Oswald finally whispered, patting Ivy's back and pulling her in for a hug, "Thank you."