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Chapter Text

Edward awoke to a throbbing pain in the back of his head. Eyes still closed, he groaned and sat up, noting the creak of flimsy mattress springs as he moved. The second thing he noted was that odd stench one gets by covering everything in chemical cleaners. They still couldn't mask the lingering reek of illness and filth permeating the air. It was a disgusting, but familiar smell. He knew that smell. Edward's eyes snapped open. Oh crud! He was back in Arkham.

Edward stood up, turning around his cell in disbelief. He had no idea how he got here or what he'd been doing before he got here. The last thing he remembered was leaving Oswald's Iceberg Lounge after being thoroughly humiliated. The memory of it still burned him. The way Oswald had belittled and mocked him, ridiculing him for being unable to come up with a decent riddle. He'd been ready to shoot the man. Instead he was outsmarted again when that walking tin can under Oswald's employ had emerged, shooting the gun out of his hand with a freeze ray. What made it all worse was that Oswald wouldn't even freeze him again! Like Edward wasn't enough of a threat to be worth freezing! Edward had left after that determined to regain his former intelligence. And after that...

Edward was drawing a blank. He plopped back onto his bed, dropping his head into his hands and... wait a moment. That wasn't right! Edward ran his hands through his hair which definitely felt longer than he remembered. A lot longer! How long had he been here?

He didn't have time to ponder it, however. A loud bang from outside the room disrupted his thoughts. There was the shouting of voices, the sound of gunfire, and running footsteps. Edward leapt down and hid beneath his bed right as the door flew open, knocked off its hinges. In walked two muscled goons followed by a familiar figure hobbling forward.

"Edward?" Oswald questioned, peaking under the bed.

Could his day get any worse?

Edward remained huddled where he was. If Oswald was here to kill him, he was going to at least make him work for it. As he had hoped, Oswald had to stoop down to reach for him, but as the man kneeled down, he landed hard on his knees, breath hissing in pain.

"Ed!" Oswald growled in irritation, "Come on!"

As if! He had no intention of taking orders from his worst enemy. Edward chuckled at his own small act of rebellion and Penguin's pain. It was the least the man deserved.

Seeing he wouldn't budge, Oswald huffed, rising back to his feet and snapping his fingers, "We don't have time for this. Grab him."

The two muscled goons simply lifted the edge of his bed to reach him. Each grabbed hold of a long leg and pulled Edward out in a most undignified manner. He scrabbled on the floor reaching for anything to pull himself back but failing. Edward emerged from under the bed, glaring up at Oswald. The man seemed not to notice, turning away and exiting the room. Edward was hauled to his feet and dragged away.

Their escape from Arkham was fairly simple with few obstacles in their way. Their path seemed unnaturally clear actually. Oswald must have planned for everything. There was even a getaway limo already waiting outside for them. Edward was loaded unwillingly into the vehicle first and Oswald quickly scooted in after him. The door closed and the limo lurched away driving them who knew where. Edward sure didn't. What would it be this time? Back to the docks to finish what he started? Or maybe Oswald had decided to freeze him again after all and they were on their way to the Iceberg Lounge. No. He couldn't do that again. He had to think of some way out of this!

"God, it's good to see you!"

"What?"

"I know it hasn't been that long." Oswald chuckled, "But you really had me worried."

"You broke me out... because you were worried about me." Edward slowly stated, "I thought you didn't see me as a threat."

"A threat? Eddie, what are you talking about?" Oswald looked confused.

"Eddie? Since when do you call me that? It's the Riddler!"

"Really? We're back to that? Fine, Riddler, but I'm too tired for these games." Oswald huffed, "Here, put this back on."

Edward startled back from Oswald's outstretched hand. But it didn't seem to be a threat. Edward looked down to see a ring settled on Oswald's upturned palm.

"What is this?" Edward questioned dubiously.

"Your wedding ring." Oswald's brow furrowed.

"I'm married?"

"Eddie..." Oswald looked stricken, "We... we've been married for ten years."

Edward laughed.

Oswald looked at him bewildered. The expression made everything even funnier, so Edward laughed some more. Cackled loud and long bringing tears to his eyes and making his sides hurt. He laughed until he ran out of breath, wiping his eyes. Hilarious. It really was. The thought that the Riddler would ever actually get hitched to the Penguin. Two sworn enemies together as a married couple? The very idea of it was absurd.

"Good one, Oswald."

"If this is some kind of joke, it isn't funny, Edward!" Oswald choked back a sob.

Hold on. Were those actual tears? Edward couldn't believe what he was seeing. He hadn't seen Penguin cry since that first time at the docks. Was it possible Oswald wasn't joking? That he actually believed his ridiculous claim? Maybe the man was suffering some sort of brain injury himself because he was clearly delusional.

"So let me get this straight," Edward said, "You didn't break me out for revenge."

"God! You're serious." Oswald swallowed hard. He inhaled a deep breath, eyes closed, appearing to try to calm himself before speaking again, "I don't know how to deal with this..."

Edward was beginning to feel awkward. He no longer felt threatened, but maybe he would have preferred that. It was all beginning to sink in that Oswald might actually be telling the truth, as crazy as that seemed. After all, Edward couldn't deny that time had clearly passed between what he remembered and the present. He could see the evidence just by looking at Oswald. The man had definitely put on some weight. There were silver streaks through his raven black hair. The most striking change was his right eye. It must have been damaged at some point and was now an unnatural, icy blue and covered behind a monocle.

"How is this possible?" Edward muttered, rubbing his temples.

How was it possible he was married to the man he hated most in the world? It was like fate was pulling some sort of cruel prank on him. He looked at Oswald, unable and unwilling to hide his disgust from showing on his face. Oswald shrank back from him with an audible hiss as though stung by it. His face twisted in pain.

"I-I can't do this, Eddie, please!" Oswald reached out to him.

Smack!

It had been instinctual. Smacking Oswald's hands away. It had only been a reflex to unwanted touch. But Edward wouldn't do any differently even if he had been thinking about it. In fact, he felt compelled to smack him again. He didn't. Oswald gaped, open mouthed and tears running down his cheeks. The man shook his head in disbelief and took a shuddering breath. Edward felt a sick satisfaction at Oswald's distress. Whatever Oswald thought they were before, Edward currently didn't know of it. The Edward here now hated Oswald and wanted revenge. Wanted to make him suffer.

"Let's just get you home. Maybe a familiar setting will jog your memory." Oswald whispered, voice cracking with grief.

Edward didn't answer. Oswald turned away from him. They remained silent for the rest of the ride. But even with his back turned, Edward could see Oswald's shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Edward felt dual conflicting impulses in that moment. To reach out and comfort Oswald countered by an urge to find something sharp and stab him in the back.

Chapter Text

When they arrived at the Iceberg Lounge, Oswald went straight for the liquor. No glass needed. He drank straight from the bottle, chugging the contents like it was water and he a man dying of thirst. Edward watched, thinking how some things didn't change. It seemed Oswald still turned to drinking as his primary way of coping (or not coping) with things.

Edward walked towards Oswald, deep in thought. Despite the strange circumstances he now found himself in, his anger towards Oswald was just as strong as before. Edward was still stuck in that past. He couldn't forgive the horrible things the Penguin had done to him even if there was evidence that, before his memory loss, that was exactly what he had done. Forgiven. Not anymore. He still craved his revenge. And now would be the perfect time to get rid of Oswald. His guard was down. Oswald was vulnerable. Edward could easily take that bottle and smash it over his head.

Edward stepped closer. He took the bottle out of Oswald's hands, ignoring the man's annoyed grumbling. He sighed, setting it lightly down on the bar beside them. He had decided against smashing Oswald's head with it. Tempting as it was, Edward needed to know how many years had passed between what he remembered and the present. He needed to know everything that had happened during that time. And he wanted to know how it was that he forgave Oswald. The best person to ask was the man before him.. his husband, ugh... Oswald. But only if the man's head remained intact and sober.

Where to start?

"The last thing I remember is coming here. It looked a little different before." Edward remarked blandly, "Seems you've done some remodeling."

Oswald stood quietly, listening. Edward moved across the room to stand in the center. He turned back to face Oswald, arms outstretched.

"This is where you had me displayed. Your frozen centerpiece."

Oswald winced at the memory, "That was so long ago, Eddie."

"For you." Edward acknowledged, "For me, it was just days ago. I remember I came here to kill you. You didn't follow my riddle and you didn't show up where we were supposed to meet, so I came to you. And then... ha ha, you made a mockery of me... you were cruel."

Edward tried to still his trembling and push down his rage. The urge to rush Oswald and strangle him was making his fingers twitch. There would be time for that later. Right now he needed answers.

"You chose not to freeze me again. That is the last thing I remember." Edward swallowed, "Tell me, what happened after that?"

"It's a long story." Oswald replied wearily.

"I need to know, Oswald."

"Of course. But perhaps after you change into something more comfortable and then we can talk about this over dinner."

"I'm not really hungry." Edward snapped.

"Be that as it may," Oswald huffed, "the cook already prepared the food and I need to eat. You can join me or not. It's your choice."

Edward looked down at his Arkham uniform and nodded, "Fine."

Eager as he was to sort out his lost time, Edward had to agree it would be nice to change out of the striped coveralls. He allowed Oswald to lead him to the back of the establishment and down a hall. At the end, there was a hidden elevator that led to a penthouse above. Oswald unlocked the door to their home and ushered him inside.

Edward looked around, taking in the new surroundings. He found himself standing at the entrance to a stylish open concept apartment. Extravagant, but tasteful decor and furnishings adorned the spaces that formed the common area, dining area, and an informal library. Upon closer inspection, Edward noted the tiny umbrellas in the details of sofa cushions, a bowl shaped like an upturned umbrella standing on a glass coffee table a few feet away, and a golden penguin statuette occupying one corner. It was all so Oswald. The color palette was mostly stark blacks and whites with pops of vibrant green. Perhaps it was Oswald's attempt at making the space more Edward. A minimal effort, Edward decided grudgingly.

"Welcome home." Oswald said quietly.

They continued through the apartment and Oswald led him into their bedroom. In contrast to the cold simplicity of the other room, their bedroom was slightly cluttered, but cozy. Miscellaneous collections hung in organized arrangements on the walls or were neatly displayed on shelves. A familiar patchwork quilt lay draped over the king sized bed in the center of the room. Warm wood tones of the floor and furniture complimented the varying shades of green and gray that were the dominant colors. There was a touch of Oswald in the accents of rich purple scattered about the space and the plush fur rug on the floor. If the other room said Oswald, this room screamed Edward.

A lump formed in Edward's throat. Seeing this somehow made it all feel real in a way it hadn't before. He really had made a life here with Oswald. Married to Oswald. God, why Oswald? How was it possible he'd ever forgiven him?

Edward followed behind as Oswald made his way to the edge of the room and gestured to a wardrobe there.

"This one's yours. The bathroom is through that door over there, if you need it." Oswald's voice sounded so tired, "I'll go now. You can join me whenever you're ready and I'll do my best to explain whatever you want to know."

Edward nodded his understanding, unable to find words. With that, Oswald made his way back to the door, closing it behind him as he left. Edward was left alone.

He opened the wardrobe. It was definitely his. Most of everything inside was his signature color. Several expensive suits hung neatly to one side and a few more casual outfits were on the other. Edward ran a hand over the garments, feeling the fabric beneath his fingers.

One item in particular caught his eye. A slightly faded green sweater he recognized with a small gasp. It was the same one Oswald had brought him during his first stay in Arkham. Some part of him had always imagined Oswald ripping it apart in rage or perhaps burning it along with all his other belongings after his betrayal. He never imagined Oswald keeping it. Nor the possibility of it being returned to him one day. Edward gently tugged the sweater free from its hanger, briefly tempted to put it on. It had been such a comfort to him once.

Chapter Text

Edward entered the dining room, smoothing down a crease in his green suit. It wasn't the same one, but it looked very much like the suit he'd worn when he became the Riddler. It wasn't his most comfortable outfit, but Oswald's stunned expression upon seeing it made it completely worth it. Like he'd seen a ghost. The suit was a message, one not lost on Oswald. It declared who Edward was now in this moment and who he was not.

I. Don't. Love you.

Edward sat at the opposite end of the table facing Oswald despite the lack of place setting. It was the place at Oswald's right-hand side that had his plate and silverware. It was a petty move, but Edward couldn't bring himself to do any differently. He couldn't sit at Oswald's side. That wasn't his place. Not anymore. Oswald blinked and stared down at the spot. What would he do? Edward wondered if Oswald might finally lose patience with him.

Oswald simply sighed, pushed himself out of his chair, and took the plate and silverware to where Edward had chosen to sit instead. Edward reddened. He hadn't expected that from Oswald. The Oswald he remembered would have snapped at him to get his own plate if he didn't want to sit near him. Or just chucked the plate at his head in a fit of rage. He never expected such a subdued response. Oswald set the plate softly in front of him. He felt Oswald's hand hover over him uncertainly before patting his shoulder with a light squeeze and returning to his seat.

Edward couldn't wrap his mind around it. Not any of it! He felt frustrated by it all. It wasn't fair! To wake up in a world he couldn't remember, feeling the things he felt! It had been confusing enough before. After Oswald's betrayal, after his revenge for Isabella. Trying to deal with the hatred, the guilt, the loneliness Edward felt for his former best friend had been confounding. It had been so hard to reconcile his lingering feelings of fondness with all the other complex emotions poisoning his heart. Now it was so much more complicated. This time, Oswald didn't feel it with him. He didn't hate him back. When he looked in Oswald's eyes, there was no conflict there the way it had been before. There was only love. Edward gnashed his teeth and watched Oswald's expression shift to one of concern.

"When I was breaking you out, I thought the worst was behind us." Oswald smiled sadly, "I don't know how to fix this."

Edward took a deep breath and sighed. As far as he knew this specific situation wasn't Oswald's fault. Edward supposed it wasn't fair for him either, although he was having difficulty sympathizing with the man he still thought of as his enemy. He had to remind himself that, from the point of view of the self that married Oswald, that wasn't true anymore. If he didn't owe it to Oswald (which he certainly felt he didn't owe him a thing), then he at least owed it to himself to try to figure this out.

"Well, you can start by telling me what I've missed."

Oswald agreed, picking at the food on his plate. He paused a moment, a thoughtful look crossing his face. His next words were to admit that there were some things in their past that he regretted. Things that would sound bad, but he wouldn't hold them back from Edward. Oswald urged him to hear him out until the end. There were also some blanks he wouldn't be able to fill. It didn't mean he was keeping secrets. He just simply didn't know everything. Edward nodded his understanding. Then Oswald began to tell him everything. He started with where Edward's memory left off.

From Oswald's telling, Edward learned a little about the time he spent in the Narrows. It seemed this portion of their history was part of the blanks Oswald didn't know although there was much he did know. Edward learned about his alliance and eventual relationship with Leslie Thompkins. It surprised him a little. He did have a little bit of a crush on the woman when he worked at the GCPD, but never thought she would have anything to do with him after he murdered Kristen. He couldn't believe she could actually forgive him for that.

Oswald's story continued with his own experiences. He told Edward about Sofia Falcone and how he ended up back in Arkham for a murder he didn't commit. That was when their paths crossed once again. Edward came to visit him. Edward hadn't believed that at first. But then Oswald explained that it wasn't exactly a friendly visit. He recalled the words they exchanged as best as he could and Edward had to admit it sounded like him. According to Oswald, "the Riddler" contacted him without alerting "the Ed" part of his of consciousness by leaving behind a note containing a riddle.

"It was shaped like a penguin. When I saw it, I knew you were still-"

"Still what?" Edward asked.

"Uh... still..." Oswald faltered.

Edward stared at him waiting for the man to just spit it out. He was still what?

"Still in there." Oswald whispered, "After you were unfrozen you weren't the same. Your mind seemed..."

"Not smart?" Edward growled, "You hesitated because you think that's who I am now."

"I don't know." Oswald admitted, "Maybe... There is one way to test it."

Edward caught on to his line of thinking immediately. It was simple really. A sure way to know if his intelligence was intact.

Without thinking the words flowed out, "I can be broken without a single touch – only be taken back by who I am made. Sometimes I'm given to deceive, but when kept, I am the greatest gift of all. What am I?"

"A promise." Oswald smiled proudly, twisting the wedding band around his finger, "Still there, my Riddler."

Edward looked away.

"Not yours." He mumbled.

Oswald went on as though he hadn't heard that last part, "You used that one at our wedding. Your version of 'I do.'"

Edward's heart hammered in his chest. It disturbed him the way those words rang true. He couldn't remember it, but it felt real.

Oswald cleared his throat and resumed the story. Edward was told next of how he and Oswald had tricked himself into rescuing Oswald from Arkham. It would sound ridiculous, except that he knew himself. It was exactly the sort of thing he, with his altering personalities, would do.

According to Oswald, they became allies after that. For a little while. Long enough to take down Sofia Falcone. Long enough for Edward to be tortured for information and not give Oswald up. Long enough for Oswald to give up his chance at revenge to save Edward. Oswald's eyes shone with devotion as he spoke of it and Edward's breath hitched. Despite himself, his hate was fading little by little. Mostly, he felt empty, numb. He just needed to focus on Oswald's words objectively. He could decide how to feel after he'd heard everything.

Chapter Text

When they finished eating, they moved to a more comfortable location. Oswald lounged back on the sofa. He groaned in relief as he stretched his legs out across it and relaxed. Edward perched on a nearby chair feeling anything but relaxed. The night was late, and Oswald's eyes closed tiredly. He had been right. It was a long story.

"Ed?" Oswald yawned.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think we could finish this in the morning?" Oswald asked hopefully.

Edward considered it. He was reluctant to prolong this. He hated feeling in the dark about his past and somewhat annoyed that Oswald would even suggest it. But he could see the dark circles under Oswald's eyes and unfocused gaze glazing over. At this rate he might leave out some important details. The mind wasn't as sharp when it lacked sleep. It had nothing to do with caring for Oswald. No, he was just being practical.

"Sure." Edward answered shortly, mouth a thin line.

"Good." Oswald sighed, "Now... hmm? I doubt you would be comfortable with our usual sleeping arrangements."

Edward reddened at that, not that Oswald noticed.

"You can have our room. I'll stay on the sofa tonight. Just, I'm trusting you not to slit my throat in the middle of the night." Oswald chuckled, thinking it a joke.

Edward left without a word, heading for the bedroom. From his perspective it was something Oswald should be worried about. Similar thoughts had crossed his mind all night. But he wouldn't. Not yet he told himself. He still needed to hear the rest of Oswald's account of his past. Some part of Edward was still hoping that his memories would return and prove this was all wrong. That he wasn't really married to his most hated enemy. That this had all somehow been some scheme concocted by Oswald to manipulate him. So not tonight. He could be patient at least until morning.

Edward shut the door behind him letting out his breath. For the first time since his abrupt "rescue" from Arkham, he was truly alone. Free to process all of it.

It was so much.

Edward leaned back against the door and slid down to the ground. He put his head in his hands, fingers scraping roughly through his hair. How was he supposed to deal with this? As much as he wished it weren't so, he knew Oswald really was telling him the truth. There was no scheme. No manipulation. Before he lost the memory of it, he had loved Oswald. He had no idea how that was possible, but it was. All the hate in his heart, it didn't belong there anymore. Edward knew that now. But he couldn't just banish those feelings, even knowing logically it could only do more harm. Edward clenched his jaw.

Slowly, he raised his head taking in the bedroom again. He glanced at the bed. It looked soft and inviting. Maybe sleep would provide some reprieve. If he were lucky, it would bring oblivion instead of dreams, at least for the night. Edward shook his head, getting to his feet. He knew he wouldn't sleep.

Instead he paced the room, walking the full perimeter of it. He caught his reflection in a mirror. He had changed too. Not as drastically as Oswald. But there were some slight crinkles about his eyes. A few grey hairs mixed in with his brown, which currently hung down passed his ears. Subtly aged.

Edward walked towards the reflection, expecting it to cackle at him or maybe mock him at any moment. It always had during times of turmoil in the past. But the reflection merely stared back, perfectly still, just as he was. The way a reflection ought to be.

Edward turned away. His eyes caught sight of the other wardrobe. In the opposite corner of the one where his own stood. It must be Oswald's. Edward walked briskly towards it, throwing open its doors. He skimmed the contents. Expensive, tailored suits in shades of black, grey, and purple. Edward dug further into the closet not entirely sure why he did it. His curiosity made it seem the thing to do. Besides, if he knew Oswald, Edward knew he should find something interesting. He tapped at the back and sure enough, it sounded hollow. Edward's fingers swept across the wooden surface. He felt around and finally... yes, there it was. Edward pressed a switch and heard the click of some mechanism behind the wardrobe. The back panel swung away from him leading to a hidden room behind it. Edward entered, ducking down through the clothes.

As he stepped inside, the lights flicked on, illuminating the space. The room was a modest size. It looked to be a panic room of sorts. Aside from the wooden panel he had just walked through, there was a more heavy duty metallic door that could be pulled across and locked into place. The furnishings inside were still just as luxurious as Edward had come to expect of Oswald and one of the walls was lined with shelves housing a collection of liquor. It seemed, even in the case of a dangerous intrusion, Oswald intended to have every comfort while he waited it out. Edward exited the way he came and closed the panel back into place.

He wondered if his own wardrobe would yield similar secrets. Edward walked back across the room towards it. Like with Oswald's, Edward ran his hands across the back until he found a switch. He heard the same click and then the panel opened. Edward stepped through and waited for the lights to switch on. They did not.

The door behind him suddenly swung closed, locking behind him. Edward was left standing in the dark. He knew better than to carelessly take another step forward. He should have thought of it before. Of course his own secret room would be booby trapped.

Think, Edward! What would he do? His chest felt tight. What traps had he laid? His breath came short. How the heck was he supposed to know?! The pressure was building behind his eyes, his head throbbing with pain. What could he do? He didn't even hardly know anything about the man he used to be! The old familiar question sprang to mind. Who am I?

Edward shouted in frustration. It made his throat raw. It felt good. He did it again. Edward spent several minutes loudly venting his pent up feelings. Every emotion finally erupting to the surface as he roared. He stood huffing, out of breath at last. The lights finally came on. The door behind him opened. Edward turned.

It was Oswald.

Edward rushed him. He didn't even know what he wanted. He was angry and afraid and he needed. He needed someone. Oswald was there. He was the only one.

In his haste, Edward knocked him to the ground. His arms wrapped around Oswald's waist, his head buried in the other man's chest, sprawled across his lap. Edward was still, eyes red, tears unshed. He never did learn how to cry. He took in a shuddering breath.

Gentle hands combed through his hair and rubbed down his back. Oswald held him. His body was a little softer than Edward remembered, but still just as warm. He breathed in again. The scent of Oswald's cologne filled his nose. And breathed out. Oswald continued to stroke down his back tenderly. In. Edward turned his head, resting his cheek on Oswald's shoulder. And out. Oswald hugged him closer. It was comforting. Edward's body began to relax as his mind quieted. If he just stopped thinking he might be alright.

Edward was beginning to feel drowsy when Oswald finally pulled away. He pulled himself out from under Edward and proceeded to help him up as well. Edward leaned heavily against Oswald. He had never felt so exhausted. Oswald helped him back into the bedroom and took him to the invitingly soft bed. Edward was settled onto it, head placed with care on the pillow and quilt tucked lovingly around him. He was fast asleep before Oswald was even done tending to him.

Chapter Text

The pitter patter of rain on glass roused Edward from his slumber. He lay wrapped in the soft warmth of his bedding, eyes closed just a little longer. It was so comfortable, and he felt at peace, mind drifting off in a morning fog. He opened his eyes...

Where?

Edward jolted up in a panic and rolled off the bed. He crashed to the floor with a thud, temporarily disoriented by his unfamiliar surroundings. And then it all came back to him. He was in Oswald's apa- their apartment, above the Iceberg Lounge. He was supposed to live here now and Oswald was supposed to be his husband, even if he didn't remember it. Edward groaned.

He picked himself off the floor. He spread the quilt he'd been tangled in back on the bed and straightened the pillows. Keep his hands busy and maybe his mind would follow. Edward decided he would get ready as he would any other day. It didn't matter that as far as he knew he didn't have anywhere to be. He took a shower, enjoying the warm water and scrubbing shampoo through his tangled hair. Once clean, he went to the wardrobe and dressed for the day. He glanced at the mirror to straighten his tie and sweep the hair out of his face. He would need a haircut, but it could wait until later.

Edward left the bedroom and headed towards the kitchen. He was happy to see it empty, although somewhat surprised. No staff busily preparing food? Oswald had always had someone prepare him breakfast when they lived together before. Oh well. This suited Edward perfectly. He had always preferred to make his own meals.

Edward opened the refrigerator and rummaged through its contents for ingredients. Eggs, cheese, butter, spinach, and ham. He placed the ingredients on the countertop and chopped the ham into smaller chunks. Next he procured a bowl and a whisk. He cracked the eggs into the bowl. One, two, three. Keep his hands busy. Don't think. Edward whisked them together and added a pinch of salt and a pinch of pepper. He found a frying pan and melted the butter before pouring his egg mixture into it. He tilted the pan and gently prodded the edges with a spatula to help it cook evenly. He felt himself relax. The methodical process of cooking had always helped to quiet his mind. When no liquid egg remained, Edward carefully flipped the omelet. Then he added the filling of diced ham, spinach, and cheese. His mouth watered at the smell. It was good to feel hungry. For the knots in his stomach to finally ease up enough for that.

Edward hadn't heard Oswald enter the kitchen as he prepared his breakfast. When he turned around to plate the omelet, he saw Oswald quietly watching him, still in his morning robe, hair fluffy from sleep. Oswald smiled at him uncertainly. Hopefully.

"Good morning, Eddie."

"Morning, Oswald." Edward answered back civilly, "Hungry?"

"I could eat." Oswald replied, nervously licking his lips, "if you're offering, that is?"

Edward grabbed another plate and cut his omelet in half. He placed the second half onto the second plate. Both plates in hand, he made his way to the dining table. Oswald followed after him.

"So..." Oswald trailed off, "Do you...?"

"No."

No, his memory had not returned.

"Oh."

Oswald's shoulders slumped in disappointment. Edward set his plate on the table and took a seat. This time he didn't make a point to sit away from Oswald, setting the other plate at the place next to his.

"You know, when I smelled your cooking, I thought maybe your memory was back." Oswald said, adding wistfully, "Because you always make us breakfast. Every morning."

It sounded like him. Cooking breakfast every morning. The romantic side of him used to imagine cooking breakfast for a partner. He just never before imagined that partner would be Oswald. Another piece to the puzzle of his missing memories, but Edward still didn't remember it. Didn't feel it.

"Sorry to disappoint." Edward answered dryly.

The atmosphere between them was strained. How could it not be? Edward wasn't Oswald's Edward and Oswald wasn't the Oswald Edward remembered. It was like they were from two completely different lives forced together. It was uncomfortable, but Edward was trying to make the best of it. Starting with breakfast. He picked up his fork and began eating. It was nothing spectacular, but the flavor was pretty good. Beside him, Oswald dug into his own food.

"Mmmmh." Oswald moaned, slipping a forkful into his mouth.

Edward chewed his eggs, trying to focus on anything but the man beside him.

"MMM-mmm."

It was becoming increasingly difficult. With every bite, Oswald continued the noise, making it impossible for Edward to pretend he wasn't there. Edward stared down at his plate, irritably jabbing his eggs with his fork.

Oswald took another bite and smacked his lips loudly in appreciation, "Mm! Mm! Mmmmh!"

"Oswald, please!"

"Hm?" Oswald questioned, startled.

"Do you always eat so loudly?" Edward snarked.

"I was? Oh, sorry." Oswald looked flustered, face turning pink, "It's just, you're a really good cook. Always have been."

Edward smiled to himself. Silly bird. He may not want it, but he felt his heart warming up to the man. Which only made things more complicated. Was this how it happened before? Forgiving Oswald. Falling for him. Did he gradually warm up to Oswald, old feelings of friendship rushing back despite their complicated past. Forgetting for just a moment the betrayal and hurt he had endured. Edward wasn't sure it would be enough this time. Didn't know if he wanted it to be. He still didn't understand how he came to see the man beside him as anything other than his greatest enemy and a traitor. But these thoughts, Edward kept to himself as they ate the rest of their meal in silence.

Chapter Text

After breakfast, Edward took the dirty dishes and set them in the sink. Oswald had followed him into the kitchen, hovering nearby. It was as though he were worried to leave Edward on his own. It was suffocating. Logically, Edward knew why Oswald felt so concerned. His condition was definitely worrying. But Edward didn't want it. He didn't want Oswald to care about him. He didn't want his anger towards Oswald to soften. The sooner Oswald finished telling him about his past, the better. Edward turned to him expectantly. Waiting. Oswald saw the question in his look.

"I don't have any pressing plans for the day. I suppose we should continue where we left off yesterday?" Oswald suggested lightly.

"Please." Edward replied.

"Where was I exactly?"

"You were telling me about the submarine I was building to escape from Gotham." Edward reminded him, "The one you left me to figure out everything for myself."

"I helped a little." Oswald grumbled, "I made sure you had everything you needed to make it work."

"Sure." Edward bit back coolly.

The tension between them returned, filling in the space left by silence. Oswald appeared at a loss for words. His mouth opened and closed several times, like he wanted to argue further. It was irritating. The way Oswald always tried to justify his selfish actions. Edward's mind was racing, calculating. Noticing a pattern. As he'd listened to Oswald tell him of their past the previous night, it became more and more clear. Oswald hadn't really changed. The same selfish man Edward had made his enemy was standing before him. How could he have forgiven such a man? How could he think for even a moment that maybe...

But of course there was always that moment when Edward thought things had changed, thought Oswald had changed. Like when Oswald rescued him at the docks, like when Edward learned it was Oswald that saved his life after Lee stabbed him. But those moments, like when he'd been willing to die without giving him up to Barbara, didn't mean Oswald had really learned anything. Those sacrifices were always followed by another betrayal, more possessiveness, or some perceived debt owed. They weren't really sacrifices. Oswald never really sacrificed unless it benefited him in some way. And Edward was getting sick of hearing about it. Maybe the man who married Oswald had been a fool. Maybe losing his memory was what it took to open his eyes.

Oswald finally broke the silence, chuckling bitterly, "Y'know, we were having this very same argument before. You thought I wasn't helping enough with the submarine back then too."

Edward furrowed his brow, waiting for Oswald to elaborate. It felt strange to think about repeating a history he couldn't remember. He wondered what he'd felt about their argument back then. Did he feel as bitter and frustrated then as he felt now?

"I never got the chance to tell you... I, well, I... you know you are the smartest man I know. I thought if I tried to help, I'd just be in the way." Oswald swallowed.

There it was.

"A convenient excuse." Edward answered nastily, "You always have one, don't you, Oswald?"

Oswald looked away. He lifted a hand to knead at his forehead. His mouth formed a tight line as he inhaled deeply through his nose. Time ticked by without a sound. Then the man began to crumble. Edward watched Oswald's bottom lip tremble, heard the stifled sniffles, even as Oswald kept his hand covering his face, shielding his eyes from Edward's assessing gaze. Then all at once, Oswald finally uncovered his face. He stood tall with his hands balled into angry fists at his sides. Red, watery eyes glared up at Edward and Edward knew he was in for one of Oswald's irritating tantrums.

"What the hell do you want from me?!" Oswald screamed, "I am trying! I'm trying, Ed!"

"Are you?" Edward hissed back, "Maybe I could believe that if you would stop making excuses!"

He watched Oswald turn red with fury. Oswald marched over to him, invading his space. Edward glared down at him, holding his ground.

"I have told you EVERYTHING exactly as it happened! I left nothing out!" Oswald bellowed, spit flying in Edward's face, "I didn't have to tell you!"

Edward seethed as Oswald continued the tirade. Didn't have to tell him? Like he owed Oswald gratitude just for being honest!

"The only thing I asked of you was to save your judgment for the end!" Oswald jabbed a finger accusingly into Edward's chest, "But the brilliant Riddler doesn't need to wait for the end of the riddle, he already knows the answer! Don't you, Ed?"

Edward snapped. This was it. This was why this could never work. Why it never should have worked. He didn't want it to. Edward couldn't accept Oswald.

"You're right!" Edward growled back, grabbing Oswald's wrist and flinging his hand away from him, "I have my answer!"

Oswald gulped, eyes wide. His mouth opened. Edward cut him off.

"I want a divorce."

"What?"

Oswald blinked. He shook his head, looking confused. He shrank back from Edward, all his rage disappearing instantaneously.

"This isn't working, Oswald." Edward stated dispassionately, his own anger draining away, "Whatever we had before, it isn't there now. Telling me about it won't change anything without my memories. I don't love you."

"You don't mean that. You're just frustrated and, and I'm sorry for losing my temper." Oswald blubbered.

"I do mean it. I don't know if I will ever remember and I can't go on with you like this." Edward replied, "The last thing I do remember is hating you, Oswald. And wanting to kill you. My leaving is better for both of us."

"Eddie, please!" Oswald's tears fell freely now.

Edward moved to walk passed him and Oswald reached out to grab his arm.

I won't let you leave.

It flashed through his mind. Those word from the past. That possessiveness causing Edward to recoil internally. But Oswald's hands stopped just out of reach, hovering in place. Like he wanted to touch him but didn't dare. He closed his hands and withdrew them slowly. Oswald looked pleadingly up at Edward.

"A little time apart may be for the best." Oswald's voice cracked, "But just give us time. Your memories might come back and then a divorce won't be necessary. Please, Edward."

Edward nodded, "I'll give it time. Apart."

Chapter Text

It had sounded like a good plan at the time, but the reality of the matter was that it was more complicated than simply deciding to go their separate ways. Whether Edward liked it or not, Gotham had changed drastically from the one he knew. Any allies he might have had in the past, well... that past didn't exist any longer and neither did those alliances. The only person Edward knew he had was Oswald.

Oswald could have held this against him. Used it to keep Edward with him and not let him go. He didn't. It was Oswald who told Edward of his current friends and allies. It was Oswald that arranged for Edward's own henchwomen to come pick him up and take him back to his own hideout. It was Oswald that helped him pack his bags. Before Edward left the Iceberg Lounge, Oswald scribbled his personal number on a scrap of paper and tucked it into Edward's coat pocket.

"If you have any questions, if you get into any trouble, if you need anything, please call me." Oswald requested.

"I will." Edward was surprised to hear himself answer back.

Oswald's watery smile at his words left an ache in his chest. Edward didn't understand his own sudden reluctance to leave. This was his idea. So why did he feel like maybe he was wrong? Wrong about Oswald. Only an hour ago, he'd accused Oswald of always having a convenient excuse. Now he was the one making up excuses. He told himself he had to leave because Oswald was selfish, manipulative, and possessive. And here Oswald was proving him wrong. Again.

"They're here." Oswald prompted gently, "Goodbye, Eddie. Stay safe."

"Goodbye, Oswald."

Ignoring the lump in his throat, Edward picked up his suitcases as the car pulled up beside them. Edward peered into it curiously, wondering what sort of people he was going away with. Two women. A brunette and a blonde dressed from head to toe in green. Oswald made his way to the driver's side of the vehicle to have a word with the brunette. The blonde hopped out of the passenger's side to help Edward with his luggage.

"Hey, Riddler." The blonde waved shyly, "So, um, how are you? Er... sorry, dumb question."

"It's okay. I'm fine." Edward replied, "So you work for me?"

"With you actually." The woman grinned, "You've always treated us more like partners than lackies. Echo wouldn't be here otherwise."

Edward looked to the woman in the driver's seat, still talking to Oswald.

"Odd name."

"No stranger than the Riddler." The blonde countered, "And I'm Query."

"Echo and Query? I like it." Edward complimented.

"You should. You helped us come up with it." Query explained, "This everything?"

"Yep."

"Guess we better skedaddle then." Query closed the trunk.

This was it then. He was leaving. Edward moved to get into the backseat, but Oswald caught him before he got in.

"Just one more thing. Make sure, before you try any scheming- don't give me that look." Oswald's tone was scolding, "I know you. If you're going to plan any heists or other plots, make sure Echo tells you about the Batman first."

"Bat man?" Edward asked skeptically.

"He's dangerous. He's the one that put you in Arkham, alright? Just be careful." Oswald sighed, "I don't want to have to break you out again so soon."

Edward nodded, "Right. Avoid any Bat men. Got it."

"It's Batman and I'm serious, Eddie." Oswald's concern was evident, "I... I don't want to lose you. Not more than I already have."

"I'll be careful." Edward reassured.

With that, Oswald finally let him go. Edward got into the car and Oswald closed the door behind him. The vehicle pulled forward taking him away. Edward watched out the window. Watched Oswald standing there on the side of the street until the vehicle rounded a corner and Edward couldn't see him anymore. This was it. Could it really be that simple? It appeared Edward was on his own now. Not alone, exactly, but untethered. Free to figure things out for himself. Free to be himself, the man he was in this moment. He wondered where this decision would lead. Could he be sure Oswald really let him go?

As they drove, Query was a wealth of questions. Ironic considering it was Edward's memory that was lacking, not hers. But the woman was infinitely curious about Edward's experiences since he lost his memory. Maybe it was simply that she couldn't believe he had really forgotten about them. She crossed her arms indignantly when he told her it was true.

"Lay off him." Echo finally chimed in, "How would you like it, huh? If someone you just met starts grillin' you about stuff you don't know. Poor guy. Brain all scrambled like eggs."

Edward did not appreciate the comparison of his brain to eggs and felt a bit miffed at the way Echo talked about him as though he weren't even there. It did succeed, however, in stopping Query's barrage of questions, so perhaps he should be grateful. Edward couldn't help wonder how he had recruited such an odd pair in the first place.

"How do I know you two actually work for me?" Edward inquired skeptically, "For all I know, Oswald hired you to spy on me."

"If we were, we wouldn't tell you now, would we?" Echo asserted.

"Spy? Who's a spy? Not I! Why would you think that? We're definitely not spies!" Query rambled.

"You do realize how suspicious that sounds?"

Echo chuckled at the flustered look on Query's face after Edward's accusation. The poor woman continued trying to prove her and her partner's innocence only succeeding in making the pair look increasingly guilty. She was just so odd. Awkward even, that every word she said came across as insincere. Meanwhile, Echo continued laughing the whole time and even Edward couldn't help but crack a smile. Spies or not, the two were definitely entertaining.

Finally Echo came to her partner's rescue, "Okay, okay. Look, if we were hired by your guy, Oswald, we probably wouldn't be much of a match for you. Go on and test us. If we pass, you know you can trust us. If we fail, kick us to the curb. What do you say, Riddler?"

"Fair enough." Edward agreed, "The test will be for you each to solve a riddle. I wouldn't work with anyone who couldn't answer a simple riddle and Oswald wouldn't bother to test his own people. If you can answer me correctly, I'll believe you."

"Sure." Query smiled.

"But are you sure you're up to it?" Echo teased, "With your knackered noggin?"

"Please. My memory might be missing, but I assure you my riddle abilities are doing just swell." Edward chided.

"Show us."

"Not measured in gold, but having great value. I am Difficult to gain, but easy to lose. And although I am not built by hand, a hand can be offered to show me. What am I?"

"That's a bit of a toughie." Edward saw Echo's brow furrow in the rearview mirror.

"Trust." Query chirped, turning round in her seat to face Edward, hand stretched out towards him to shake.

Edward looked down at the offered hand. Should he trust her? He took her hand giving it a firm shake.

"Correct."

"Yes!" Query celebrated, clearly pleased with herself.

"Your turn." Edward directed to Echo, "I can be woven with truth or lies, but when my presence is revealed I end. What am I?"

Echo hesitated. Edward could see it wasn't from lack of an answer. Would she reveal herself? He waited to hear what she would say.

"Deceit." Echo sighed, "So you figured it out... but Query wasn't a part of this. And it's not what you think!"

"So you admit it? You've been deceiving me?" Edward asked.

"What?" Query looked back and forth between Echo and Edward in confusion.

"Like I said, it's not what you think! We really do work for you, not him!" Echo gritted her teeth, "He just... he wanted me to keep an eye on you. Not spy, just keep you safe."

"Okay."

"Really? That easy?" Disbelief colored her tone.

"You answered my riddle correctly and I said I would believe you." Edward replied, "But no more secrets between us. If we're going to work together from now on, I need to be able to trust you."

"No more secrets." Echo promised.

"You can count on us!" Query added.

It appeared his previous self had chosen his henchwomen wisely. Not only were they able to answer his riddles, they seemed to really understand him as well. Kindred spirits.

Choosing to trust them hadn't been merely about the riddles. Each one had passed his true test with flying colors. Query, with her frank and earnest nature, had proved herself easily. She read what Edward expected from her immediately and responded with candor as well as a quick mind. Edward felt he really could count on her.

As for Echo, Edward's confidence had been harder won. It hadn't escaped his notice the way she would deflect his accusations with indirect responses and humor. Until she answered his riddle for her. She was serious then and had given him a straight answer. Even when pressed about her deception, she didn't try to hide it. She answered him truthfully. Now, Edward knew he really could believe in her.

It made him reconsider some of his initial assumptions. Despite his previous doubts, Edward now felt sure that Query and Echo truly were his allies. Not some lackeys of Oswald's. This hadn't been some elaborate trap or manipulation after all. It felt strange. Edward hadn't really believed that Oswald would help him, no strings attached. Just let him go with nothing more than a request to keep him safe. Maybe this meant Oswald had passed his test too. Maybe it meant... he wasn't sure yet what it might mean. For him. For them. But ever since Oswald whisked him away from Arkham and told him they were married, with each new kindness or display of just how much Oswald had changed from the man Edward used to know, Edward felt his heart turning little by little. Turning towards the man he'd sworn was his enemy.

Chapter Text

After several twists and turns through the city streets, Echo finally informed Edward that they were getting close to their destination. Edward watched out the window as they passed by grimy looking store fronts and worn down buildings, feeling skeptical about the location. Too soon, Query turned to him and pointed out the window.

"There! That's our base." She chirped happily.

Edward looked in the direction she indicated to see a small shop dwarfed by the surrounding buildings. Peeling paint in the cracked storefront window read "My tique Toy Sh p." With some of the letters long worn away, it appeared abandoned for years. Edward wondered why he would choose such a spot for his hideout. Although he had to admit it was the last place he would look for himself.

The car passed it by and turned down a dark alley to access the shop from behind. Echo pulled into a little hidden garage tucked in the back. Once she parked, the trio got out of the car, and Query helped Edward with his things. Echo led the way to the door, unlocking it and holding it open for them. They came into a sort of dusty, old storage space, cluttered with boxes and broken furniture. It looked a mess and Edward doubted the rest of the shop looked any better.

"This is our hideout? You two live here?" Edward asked incredulously.

"Yup. Home sweet home." Echo crowed.

"Stop messing with him." Query shook her head before turning to Edward, "There's more to this place than it appears."

Edward was sure she was right. Any hideout of his, no matter how seemingly decrepit, was sure to have some secrets. Query led him further in. Edward could see a door at the opposite end of the room (the only other visible exit besides the one they came through) and made his way towards it. He tried the handle. It was locked.

"You have to-"

"Don't tell me." Edward said excitedly.

He knew there would be some sort of trick to opening the door. A puzzle to solve. Edward had always loved puzzles and now was finally his chance to solve one of his own making. Maybe memory loss had some perks after all.

Edward took a step back inspecting the door. It looked rather ordinary in appearance. Average in size. Off-white paint peeling at the edges. But there was something about it that just didn't seem right. Edward scanned the room around him, looking for any other clues. Cardboard boxes stacked in a corner, broken stool pieces strewn about, cluttered shelves, painted dolls, wooden figures, a hand-crafted rocking horse, a scattering of mostly empty jars across the floor. And then a thought occurred to him. A particular riddle he enjoyed for it's simplicity. He turned back to the door and took the knob once more in hand. He jiggled it. Ordinary doorknob, but something was definitely off. The door hadn't shifted even a millimeter. It hadn't moved at all actually. Which meant he was right!

The 'door' in the wall was clearly nothing more than a decoy. A fairly convincing decoy as it appeared so ordinary. But that was the point wasn't it? Most people would see a boring, old door like that and not even bother with it. Any who did try the handle would find it locked but probably not worth the trouble. And if one were inclined to persist even further, forcing their way, they would find they hadn't broken down a door at all, but merely broken through a wall disguised to look like a door. On the other side of the wall might be nothing more than another mundane storage room. Or maybe the Riddler had a trap laid for any would-be intruders on the other side. Edward could only guess, but what he knew for certain was that they wouldn't find his lair that way.

Edward turned back to see Query and Echo watching him. He sauntered passed them, making his way across the room away from the 'door.' He stood amongst the pile of jars, broken stools, and other rubbish on the floor grinning from ear to ear.

"When is a door not a door?" Edward questioned.

Echo and Query both smiled.

"When it's..." Echo paused for comedic effect, motioning for Query to do a drum roll, "ajar of course!"

"Exactly."

Sometimes riddles were meant to be taken literally. Edward stooped down and pulled up on one of the jars. A trapdoor in the floor opened up revealing a ladder leading down below. He'd successfully found the entrance to his secret base. And in that moment, for the first time since he'd woken up without his memory in Arkham, Edward felt in his element. Puzzles and riddles were a comfort he could comprehend. And wasn't it nice to have someone to share in his enthusiasm? The two women beside him seemed as excited as he was.

Edward stepped aside to allow the two of them to climb down the ladder first and then followed after, shutting the trap door behind him. They descended for quite a ways down. Edward was curious to see what his hideout really looked like beneath it's decrepit exterior. They reached the bottom of the ladder and Edward found himself faced with another closed door.

"No tricks this time." Query informed him.

"Right." Echo confirmed, "Just need the keys."

Query explained how she and Echo each had a key, but that they could only open the door when used together. It was an extra security feature in case one or the other of them were ever captured. It was to ensure that their enemies wouldn't be able to use them to get in. In case such a scenario ever did occur, there was also the master key which could open the door alone. The master key was never kept on their person however. Edward learned that it had been hidden away by himself at the Iceberg Lounge. Edward frowned. It would no doubt still be there. Oswald could come to him whenever he felt like if he knew the location of the master key. Edward resolved to go back, find it, and choose a new hiding place before that could happen. But it would have to wait for now. There were more urgent matters to take care of first. Edward needed to learn as much as he could about himself and everything missing from his memory. Starting with anything his new companions could tell him.

Chapter Text

Edward's secret base was much more impressive than the dilapidated little shop above would have suggested. Below the shop, everything was sleek and new. The Riddler's signature question mark, displayed in neon on the wall, cast it's green glow about the entry. The enormous light feature left no doubt to the identity of the rogue that claimed this space as his own and Edward absolutely loved that. He was only given a moment to admire it before Query was tugging him along to give him the grand tour. The first place she took him through was a lounge. Here, he was informed, they all might hangout (watching movies, playing games, or just enjoying each other's company) after a heist. The space was every bit as luxurious as anything in the Penguin's home, but very distinctively fitted to Edward's own aesthetic preferences. At least he still had style after these ten years.

Next, Query showed him his personal workshop. It was love at first sight. Edward found this to be the space where all manner of fascinating gadgets and contraptions were kept. A place for tinkering and invention. A place to prepare for whatever schemes he might come up with next. This was exactly the sort of place he had always dreamed of having before and he was thrilled by the idea of getting to work on some new project here. He wandered through the space until something caught his eye.

"Oh! Hello, what are you?" Edward thought out loud.

He picked up what appeared to be some sort of bat-shaped throwing implement, examining it closely. Query came over to peer down at what had gained his interest.

"Does this have anything to do with that Batman that Oswald mentioned?" Edward asked her.

"Yup. Batarangs." Query replied, "Normally, he's throwing those things at us."

"What did we do to him?"

"What do you mean?" Query tilted her head.

"Anyone throwing these at us," Edward indicated the batarang, running a finger over one sharp edge, "must not like us very much. Therefore, I'm wondering what sort of personal grudge he holds against us?"

"Oh, it's nothing personal. At least not for him. Batman sees himself as some sort of masked hero." Query made a face, "He's a vigilante and always interferes with us. But he sticks his nose in everyone else's business too."

"Is he as dangerous as Oswald said?" Edward asked, intrigued.

"Yeah, he's bad news. I'll fill you in before our next scheme so you know what to expect."

"Thanks."

Query nodded and took the batarang from Edward's hand to put away. Edward decided to linger awhile, spending time looking through the contents of his workbench and trying to puzzle together what he'd been in the process of making before. Some sort of trick umbrella by the looks of it. Eventually, Query was successful in dragging Edward away to show him the rest of their hide-out.

She led him through the library, the kitchen, the study, and finally to his trophy room. Neatly displayed about the room, every item was some souvenir from every scheme the Riddler ever carried out before. As Query chattered animatedly about their many escapades, Edward perused the paraphernalia. The assorted trinkets and bobbles looked expensive (or at the very least quite impressive) shining behind display cases, perched proudly atop plinths, or cradled delicately in supportive stands. All except one. One object in the room stood out from the rest like a sore thumb for it's lackluster appearance. Why would he keep some useless scrap like that?

"What's this?" Edward asked, holding up the hunk of twisted, damaged metal.

"Hmm... Oh, that one's from the submarine you and the Penguin built together." Query answered, coming to take a look at it, "It's the oldest trophy in your collection actually and your favorite. Even though that scheme was a failure."

"A failure?" Edward murmured, "What happened?"

"We weren't with you then, so I'm a little fuzzy on the details." Query explained, "But you told us the submarine was destroyed. That piece came from the wreckage."

So all his hard work came to naught. Edward recalled the detailed account Oswald gave him of the months of planning, designing, and testing. And his creation lay at the bottom of the river. But how did they survive it. Edward made his decision to leave Oswald before he got the full story. He never learned what happened after the submarine was built. How his plan failed.

"So we weren't able to leave Gotham because the submarine was destroyed?"

"Not quite." Echo interrupted, walking in to join them for story time.

"You chose not to leave..." Query explained, "before it was destroyed."

"What?"

That didn't make any sense. From what Oswald told him, the most logical thing to do was to leave the city. Like abandoning a sinking ship, Gotham had been going down and there was no need to go down with it. Why stay?

His confusion must have shown on his face because Echo elaborated further, "From what you told us, Penguin chose to stay and fight and then you did too."

"Why would I do that?" Edward asked.

"Maybe," Echo spoke exaggeratedly slow, "Because Penguin. Is. Important. To you!"

"Oswald?"

"Now you're catching on." she smiled smugly.

"I stayed for him?" Edward mumbled.

It wasn't really a question. More like his continued disbelief that he would make such an illogical choice. From what Oswald told him, their alliance had been tenuous at best, merely a team-up for the sake of convenience. Besides, remaining in Gotham was supposed to have been a death sentence. Clearly, they hadn't died, but the danger had still been very real that they could have. They'd had their ticket out and Edward gave that up to follow Oswald on his suicide mission? He really couldn't imagine himself giving up his own safety and freedom to fight for Gotham. He never really cared much for the drab, boring people of this city. Did he really stay behind just for Oswald?

Chapter Text

Edward lay back on his bed staring up at the ceiling. Query had left him there to settle in after finishing her tour and a moment later Echo had knocked at the door. She called from outside to inform him that she'd brought his luggage and left it outside the door, not wanting to invade his space. Edward was grateful. He needed the space. Room to unwind and reflect on everything. Both Query and Echo clearly seemed to understand this. It was odd how well they knew him when he still knew so little about them. Sure, he trusted them and enjoyed their company, but it still felt... strained? In a way. He was very comfortable in their company for the most part, but it was like there was this sense of anticipation. They were waiting for his memories to return and, even though they were so patient, Edward was beginning to feel impatient with himself.

Maybe things would seem better in the morning. Before going to sleep for the night however, Edward decided to unpack his things. It gave him some sense of control over his circumstance, silly as it seemed. He unzipped his bags and almost robotically removed the contents, laying them out on his bed in organized piles: socks, pants, shirts, until...

Clink.

Barely audible, something small landed on the floor. Edward looked down to see a ring rolling slowly away. He stooped down to pick it up and examined the way the light hit the shiny surface. It was the one Oswald had tried to return to him when he first learned of their marriage. He must have put it there when he helped Edward pack. It was just the sort of sentimental gesture that Oswald would make. A way for him to communicate to Edward without a word. A soft reminder. I miss you. And his quiet request. Please come home?

Edward glared down at the ring and rubbed at his eyes. He swallowed and swallowed, but the lump in his throat remained. As unyielding and irritating as the man it formed there for. Edward thought he could leave him behind. That by going off on his own he might gain some distance from Oswald. And he had. Oswald felt distant from him now and it only made the ache in his chest stronger. Edward thought this would be easier. That the absence of the other man would give him some peace. And it had. Even out from under Oswald's influence, the evidence of his care followed after him giving him peace about at least one thing. It was true. Everything Oswald told him about their relationship was true. Oswald's love for him was real and his own love for Oswald must also be real. Edward slipped the ring onto his finger.

He let out a sigh and returned to his unpacking. Edward let his mind go blank as he went through the motions. When everything had been neatly put into its proper place, he lay back down in the bed. He snuggled into his sheets and finally acknowledged his feelings for Oswald. He knew they had been there for a long time, even back to the point that he could remember. He had been too hurt to see it then for what it was. He still felt the pain of those past hurts which did not seem so long ago from his current perspective. But they were long ago and so much had changed. Day by day, with each gentle reminder that this was not the past, Edward felt he too was changing. It hadn't even been a full day, yet he missed Oswald.

But he couldn't go back. Not yet at least, although his reasons had changed. Edward would stay away from Oswald for now, not because he couldn't stand to be around him (not always at least), not because of distrust (though some still lingered), not even because he still needed to learn who he was (which he definitely still did). No, the reason why was that there was still a problem Edward needed to investigate. After all, it was very strange. Why had he forgotten everything in the first place? Until he knew the answer to that, it could be dangerous to go back to the way things were. Edward knew exactly where he would begin his investigation as he finally drifted off to sleep.

.

.

.

"I need to talk to Batman." Edward announced, waltzing into the kitchen to join Query and Echo for breakfast.

"Uh, yeah. Okay..." Echo nodded, "So clearly you've lost your entire mind, not just your memories."

"I'm not crazy." Edward grinned manically.

"Rrrrriiiiiiight... Uh huh."

Echo was clearly not convinced. Query furrowed her brow. She seemed concerned for Edward as well. Time to explain himself. Edward swiped a piece of toast from Echo's plate and took a seat at the table.

"Hey!"

"So," Edward began, nibbling at his stolen breakfast, "Oswald told me that Batman was the one to put me in Arkham. Batman might know something about my memory loss, ergo my need to talk with him."

"Well, don't say we didn't warn you." Echo scowled, taking a new piece of toast handed to her by Query.

"You didn't warn me." Edward replied flippantly.

"I told you not to say it!"

Query giggled at the exchange. She never tired of their little squabbles. Perhaps because neither of them were ever really serious. Because they were a family. Something like siblings poking at each other to see if they could get a rise out of one another. It reminded her of old times.

Before Echo could start it up again, Query intervened more seriously, "Well, we are warning you now. Batman is dangerous."

"Not having my memories is also dangerous." Edward argued, "And I don't even know how it happened. This could all be some insidious plot to control me or worse."

"Hmmm, good point." Query conceded.

"Well, nobody knows who he is, so how are we supposed to talk to him?" Echo questioned.

"Oh, I've got a plan."

Edward's manic grin only widened with these words. He clapped his hands together and chuckled gleefully. The women exchanged curious glances at each other before looking back to Edward to hear it.

Chapter Text

As they finished their breakfast, Edward shared his brilliant plan with Query and Echo. It was fairly straightforward, considering he was the one who came up with it. Using a series of riddles, Edward would lead the Batman into an ambush where Query and Echo would be waiting to catch him with a net. Once the Batman was captured, Edward would simply demand answers to all his questions. What could possibly go wrong?

So of course it would be Echo who boldly spoke up to voice her doubts. Query never seemed to contradict, instead letting her thoughts and feelings on any matter run across her face. She was often too nervous to put her opinions into words, but her silence was nearly as telling as the words that now spilled from Echo's mouth.

"But how are we gonna get Batman to follow your trail of riddles?" Echo questioned, "It's not like we can just send him the first clue in the mail. Besides, he has no incentive to play along."

Query nodded in agreement.

"Not a problem." Edward chuckled, addressing their concerns, "I plan to leave the first clue at the GCPD along with a message providing incentive."

"What is it?" Query inquired.

"While I'm dangerous live, I'm dangerous to kill,
But cease to exist when my purpose is fulfilled

While my time is running out, yours is too,
But when my time stops, yours is saved

What am I?"

"A bomb?" Echo asked dubiously. She wasn't questioning her answer. She knew it was correct. No, Echo was questioning Edward's decision to use a bomb for the plan. They were supposed to be trying to get Batman's attention, not kicking a hornets' nest! Actually kicking a hornets' nest would probably have a better ending (at least hornets don't throw you into Arkham as Echo had informed Edward).

"It doesn't have to be real." Edward clarified, "But if Batman believes the only way to stop it from detonating is by finding me, he will have to come after us."

"That's what I'm worried about." Echo groaned.

"It'll be fine. Once he realizes there's no real danger from us, a hero like him probably has bigger fish to fry."

"And if he doesn't?"

"That's what the net is for." Edward shrugged.

Echo sighed but gave up in the end. It seemed the Riddler's mind was set and it wasn't like she had a better plan. Query patted Echo's shoulder comfortingly and reminded her that things always tended to work out in the end. So it was decided. Query, Echo, and Edward spent the rest of the week hashing out all the details of the plan and making the necessary arrangements to carry it out. Far too soon, the day came to put all their preparation into action.

The first step was to make a delivery to the GCPD. While Query and Echo took the rest of the riddles to their proper locations across the city like some sort of grand Easter egg hunt, Edward would personally take the message and the first of the many riddles that would begin the chase. Edward could have paid someone else to make this drop off for him, but where was the fun in that? No, Edward donned the perfect disguise, a policeman's uniform he'd found in his trophy room (stolen apparently during one of his prior exploits), and waltzed into the GCPD himself.

Edward scanned the room, looking for a familiar face. There were a few of the same incompetent officers he remembered, but most of the men and women in the room were new. New to him at least. Fresh, young faces not haunted by the weight of sin and corruption the way their more experienced counterparts were. Give it time, Edward thought.

Someone grabbed his arm. Edward froze.

"Excuse me, sir, could you-"

Edward didn't wait to hear the rest of what the young woman had to say, tugging his arm free and briskly making his way to the opposite side of the room. When he felt he'd distanced himself enough to lose the woman, Edward returned to scanning the room with a frown. That had been a close call. If she'd seen his face, there might have been trouble. Maybe this would be a little more difficult than he initially thought it would be. Edward had hoped to immediately spot Jim Gordon or maybe even Foxy before giving anyone the chance to recognize him. However, neither of them seemed to be present in the surrounding hustle and bustle as Edward peered out inconspicuously from behind a column.

He wondered vaguely about them. Gordon and Foxy. Did they still work here? If not, where did they go? Could they have died at some point? Edward hoped Foxy was doing alright. He really couldn't care less about Gordon.

Finally, Edward spotted what he was after. More or less. Definitely less actually. Harvey Bullock would not have been his first choice, but he did seem to be his best option at the moment. He just hoped the dunderhead would be intelligent enough to get his riddle to the right person. Edward carefully made his way towards Harvey and slid his green envelope onto the man's desk without drawing attention.

It didn't take long for Bullock to notice the bright green either. As Edward made his exit, he heard Harvey's startled exclamation and the pandemonium that broke out following it. He grinned to himself, pleased with the way his plan was proceeding. It was only a matter of time before Batman was on his trail.

Chapter Text

Heart hammering in his chest, Edward ran for his life. His lungs burned and there was a painful stitch in his side, but he couldn't afford to stop now. Not with the sound of pounding footsteps quickly closing in behind him. It was the knowledge of who was making them that kept him desperately moving forward at full speed. Edward pushed through a set of double doors and glanced back over his shoulder, instantly regretting it. He could see the shadowy figure charging after him and filling him with dread.

In hindsight, maybe antagonizing Gotham's self-proclaimed vigilante of justice (that even Oswald seemed afraid of) hadn't been his best idea. But no one had warned him how scary Batman was! What kind of maniac dressed like a bat AND had muscles like those?!

If Batman had merely been some muscled buffoon, Edward wouldn't have been as worried, but it seemed that he had an intellect to match his own. The man had quickly deciphered all of his riddles and Edward was left completely unprepared when Batman found his location, one of Gotham's most popular (and currently empty) theaters, entirely too early.

Hence his current predicament. He hadn't the time to make sure all elements of his plan were properly in place. It was a shame too. Edward had kidnapped an entire orchestra to hold hostage just for a good show. Now one of the braver hostages, some wise guy with a violin, could be heard playing "Flight of the Bumblebee" and making a fool of the Riddler as he sprinted through the aisles. Edward made it to the front of the theater and scrambled awkwardly onto the stage. Batman was close behind him, swiftly leaping up. The motion was terrifyingly like a swooping bat. Edward fled, exit stage left to disappear. Where the heck were Query and Echo with that net?

Whoosh!

Edward fell forward! A sudden tug around his ankles had sent him face first into the hard ground, knocking the breath out of him. Edward looked down to see the bola wire wrapped tightly around his legs. He struggled to pull himself loose. A shiver ran up his spine as a shadow loomed behind him. Oh dear! Edward found himself abruptly yanked from the ground coming face to face with his adversary. Batman glowered at him. Or at least Edward believed he was glowering. Hard to tell behind the mask. Edward absentmindedly reached up to try and remove it only to be dropped harshly back to the floor.

"OW!" Edward squawked indignantly, rubbing at a sore spot on his backside, "That hurt!"

"You should have thought about that before breaking out of Arkham." Batman growled unpleasantly, "Now tell me where the bomb is."

"There is no bomb. And I didn't break out." Edward argued, scowling up, "I was kidnapped. Well... sort of kidnapped."

"Sort of? What do you mean by that, Nygma?"

"It's the Riddler!"

"Riddler." Batman amended, "What do you mean by saying you were kidnapped?"

Well, that was unexpected. Did Batman actually intend to hear him out? Without even needing to be captured and threatened? Edward never expected him to be so accommodating. It was quite the stroke of luck, considering he was beginning to doubt how well a measly net would have held Batman.

"Actually, I was hoping you could shed some light on my situation. That's the reason I lured you out here." Edward said before launching into a rushed explanation, "My memory of the past has been... compromised. I-I don't remember what I did to end up in Arkham in the first place. I don't remember who you are. I don't remember how I... Argh! I-I just need your help!"

“Not another one.”

“Another? What do you... Oh!” Edward exclaimed, throwing up his hands in excitement, “I'm not the only one! There are others suffering memory loss? Who? Maybe there’s a link!”

"Commissioner Gordon and Barbara Kean were the last ones before you. I haven't found the pattern yet, but you're the sixth one this month..." Batman trailed off, seemingly lost in thought.

"And the others?" Edward prompted him to continue.

"The first victim, Dr. Patel, was reported at Gotham General Hospital and only missing a few weeks worth of memory. A few days later, Victor Fries was found walking around without any recollection of his other identity as Mr. Freeze. The following week, the same thing happened to Catwoman."

Edward thought over Batman's words, the new information amounting to just a few pieces to an incomplete puzzle. He still couldn't see the full picture. These names meant nothing to him and he couldn't figure out how they could possibly fit together.

Frustrated, Edward latched onto the most familiar pieces to start with. Barbara Kean and Jim Gordon. It was Jim Gordon that Batman was referring to, wasn't it? So he was commissioner now. It seemed a lifetime ago that Jim was just a rookie detective at the GCPD. There was a time they had worked together and Edward had even been deluded enough to think that they were friends. He knew better now. Even back then the detective had never been his friend and there was little connection between them other than shared animosity now. At least that's how he remembered it.

Then there was Barbara Kean. Although they weren't very fond of each other even then, Barbara had been his ally before Oswald froze him. With Edward now married to Oswald, he highly doubted she counted as an ally of his any longer. So what could the connection be? Maybe they shared a common enemy?

Without his memory it was impossible to know for sure. He couldn't ask Barbara or Jimbo now either, but maybe there was someone else who would be able to help him. Someone who knew the three of them and had been nearly as good at solving puzzles as himself. Edward knew just the man to seek out once he ditched the Batman. But first...

"So... you wouldn't imprison a guy who can't even remember what their crime is, would you?" Edward asked innocently.

Batman narrowed his eyes, "Nice try, Riddler. You're going back to Arkham."

"Could you at least refresh my memory first? What happened the first time?" Edward pressed.

"I'll tell you on the way. How does that sound?" Batman smirked.

"I was afraid you would say that, but I have no intention of going back there. QUERY, ECHO! NOW!"

Right on cue, a net dropped from above, but, as expected, it posed little threat. Batman simply dodged out of the way before he could even become ensnared. However, the distraction was just what Edward needed to get his legs loose and jump back to his feet. As Query and Echo threw smoke bombs down, Edward turned and ran as fast as he could. A batarang whizzed passed his face too close for comfort. Edward ducked down, but kept running, the smoke effectively covering his escape. He caught up with his trusty henchwomen outside, all three leaping into their get-away vehicle, and then speeding away. As they fled the scene, Edward's heart raced. Absolutely nothing had gone to plan. He panted to catch his breath and let out a delirious laugh, still high off the thrill. What a rush!

Chapter Text

Edward looked out at the cityscape rushing passed as the car sped down the street. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before (at least in his memory). The excitement still pulsed through his veins from having put together and carried out his own plan. True, nothing had gone accordingly, but they'd still successfully escaped Batman. That definitely counted for something in Edward's mind. Edward looked to his companions' faces and could see that they felt just as he did. Query couldn't seem to stop giggling and Echo wore a wide smile to match Edward's own toothy grin. They met each other's eyes and burst into raucous laughter.

As the laughter died down, Edward leaned back, closing his eyes contendedly, and sighed, "That was amazing."

"Yeah." Echo said softly, wiping a laugh tear from her eye, "It's like you're really you again."

"That's exactly what it feels like." Edward agreed, sitting back up, "Like I'm finally the man I'm supposed to be. Like I'm really the Riddler."

"So did you get anything good out of the Bat?" Query asked curiously.

"Or do we need to do it again?" Echo chuckled.

"No need." Edward reassured, "My conversation with Batman was very informative. And I think I have a few leads."

Query gave a pleased smile. Echo nudged Edward for him to continue. Both felt excited to find out what he had learned.

"Well, I'm assuming Victor Fries is the same Victor that Oswald had freeze me way back. I didn't know he goes by Mr. Freeze now, or did until he lost his memories too."

"Yup, that's him." Echo confirmed.

"I'm not familiar with the names Dr. Patel or Catwoman, but they suffer memory loss as well."

"Well, you've worked with Catwoman a few times over the years." Query offered, "And sometimes you trade information. She's an excellent thief. I don't know anything about Dr. Patel."

Edward continued, "And then there's Jim and Barbara. Actually, there's someone I want to see about them. I know it's a bit sudden, but think you could drop me off?"

Echo and Query exchanged curious glances wondering where next their leader had in mind to search for answers. It seemed they wouldn't be getting any downtime anytime soon with Edward in charge. And they wouldn't have it any other way. The look shared between them communicated the sentiment although Edward didn't pick up on it. He waited to hear their response.

"Sure" Echo responded with a fond sigh, "Where to next?"

Edward made his request. He hadn't been sure if they would know of the man but was pleasantly surprised to hear that they did. Apparently, it was common enough for Edward to just randomly pop by his home and Query and Echo already knew the way.

They arrived to their destination shortly. Edward told them he wanted to go in alone and not to wait around for him. He would see them back at the hideout later. Knowing he wouldn't remember it, Echo made sure to call out the apartment number before driving away.

And so Edward stood outside the building internally debating whether to use the main entrance and elevator or to go by fire escape for old time's sake. Although, he reasoned, it might very well be that fire escape is still his usual method of entrance. He wished he could remember, but then he wouldn't need to be here if he did.

"Ed?"

Edward turned at the sound of his name. Coming up the sidewalk was just the man he was looking for, an old friend. His "old friend" watched him warily as Edward stepped forward to meet him.

"Hello Foxy." Edward greeted, smiling warmly.

Lucius relaxed, returning the smile.

"What kind of trouble are you in this time?"

"It's kind of a long story." Edward replied.

"Well, come on up. I know it's the only way I'll be rid of you." Lucius said, although his tone was teasing rather than vexed.

Edward followed him into the building. They took the elevator to the level where Lucius' apartment was located, a very mundane and somewhat awkward method. Edward regretted not being able to go by fire escape after all and surprise Foxy when he got home instead. It would have been much more fun. Edward also would have preferred to avoid the awkward silence between them and the horribly bland elevator music. He would have to remember that next time. With a ding, the elevator reached their target floor, and Lucius led the way down the hall to his apartment. Once inside, the man gestured towards the sofa, inviting Edward to make himself at home.

"It's nice to see you again, but I thought you were supposed to be in Arkham."

"Do you plan on turning me in?" Edward questioned, attempting to sound casual but ready to react accordingly.

"Do you plan on causing any problems?" Lucius threw back.

"Not at the moment."

"Then, at the moment, no." Lucius responded carefully. After a pause he added, "You do know I think of you as a friend, don't you? You've done many things I don't agree with, but I consider that part of your illness. I don't view you as evil, Ed."

"I didn't come here for a lecture." Edward griped, picking at a loose thread on the sofa.

"Then why did you come?"

"I need help." Edward sighed.

He took a deep breath before launching into the full story. He told Lucius everything, starting with waking up in Arkham with a significant part of his memory missing up to his confrontation with Batman and everything that happened in between.

"I can't shake the feeling that there must be something I'm missing. It seems like too much of a coincidence that I should know three of the other victims. There must be some connection. Maybe if you could help me fill in the missing pieces, I could figure out what it is." Edward concluded.

Lucius sat back in his seat. Edward had told him quite the tale and the problem he presented was far from simple. Lucius could easily see why Ed, despite priding himself on his own intelligence, would seek out help in solving it. There was just one thing he didn't understand.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but why are you asking me these questions instead of your husband?" Lucius asked, "Surely, he would know more about you than I do."

Edward sighed.

"I'm not sure I can fully trust him." He answered honestly, "I've been so confused. The Oswald I remember from before, he was a man I trusted with my life... and then he betrayed me. He was my best friend and became my greatest enemy. How can I trust him now? I don't think he would purposefully hurt me again, but I don't feel confident he will be completely honest either."

"You trusted him enough to marry him." Lucius pointed out.

"I... I do care about Oswald. And I'm beginning to accept that I probably loved him before, but... love isn't the same as trust!" Edward floundered, "B-Besides, the current me doesn't even remember that! That decision was made by someone else! I'm not that same man anymore."

"In a sense... a future version of yourself. One who must have worked through all of the pain caused to you by Penguin and reconnected with him. Don't you trust that?"

Edward paused to consider Lucius' words. It sounded so simple when he said it like that, but Foxy was missing something. He didn't understand.

"No, I don't." Edward whispered, "I've never trusted myself either. Even less than Oswald."

"Maybe Oswald isn't the problem here." Lucius spoke slowly, "I still think he is your best chance at sorting all of this out. You've been by his side for years. No one knows you better. This 'current you' told me so yourself once."

Edward remembered. He remembered that night in Lucius' car when he finally admitted the truth to himself after Oswald's supposed death. He'd told Foxy that the murders, the search for a mentor or an enemy, all of that had been his way of trying to hold onto Oswald a little longer. He'd also said that Oswald was the only one who truly understood him.

Lucius was right and Edward was running out of excuses. He didn't fully trust Oswald, but that wasn't the real reason he'd stayed away. Edward knew he'd been putting off the inevitable and that he would have to go back to Oswald eventually. He would have to resolve things one way or another. And the truth was: Edward had already made his decision. His current hesitation was due to the remaining fear he couldn't shake off. Fear of what? Edward couldn't have said before, but Lucius' suggestion that it was more to do with him than Oswald felt on the mark.

"You're right." Edward mumbled, putting his head down, face in his hands, "Thanks, Foxy."

"I'll help you with what I can." Lucius added comfortingly, "But you will still have to talk with Penguin eventually. You should take that time to get to know one another again."

Foxy's pep talk was beginning to really sink in. He had already decided to give the relationship between himself and Oswald a chance. The next step would be to stop avoiding him. Edward nodded, staring down at the ring on his finger.

"Oh, and Ed?"

Edward looked up, "Hm?"

"Next time, please," Lucius stressed with mock exasperation and a smirk, "get a marriage counselor."

"And forego the chance to hear your invaluable words of wisdom?" Edward returned with mock sarcasm and matching grin, "I wouldn't dream of it."

He really wouldn't though. Edward was infinitely grateful for the help sorting out his own mind. It seemed to him that Foxy had missed his calling. The man would have made an exceptional therapist.

Chapter Text

Butterflies fluttered through Edward's gut as he contemplated what to do next. He wasn't stalling. He definitely wasn't sitting in Lucius' living room lobbing questions at him as some form of stalling tactic. That would be absurd! Edward knew now he would need to talk to Oswald as Lucius advised him to. And he would. Edward would definitely go talk to Oswald.

Soon, but not yet, Edward reasoned. After all, was it not also vitally important that he get as much information as possible? He still had the mystery of his missing memories hanging over him and surely Lucius would know something useful for solving it. It was the reason he'd come to the man in the first place. Sure, Oswald could answer his questions too... but it never hurt to get multiple perspectives on a problem. No, Edward was certainly not stalling. Edward fidgeted in his seat.

Lucius seemed to sense his anxious state. He could tell that Ed needed a bit more time. Wanting to convey to him that he was welcome to stay longer, Lucius offered Edward something to eat.

"Yes, thank you." Edward desperately agreed despite the somersaults his nervous stomach kept turning.

Lucius made his way to the kitchen with Edward trailing behind him awkwardly. He also decided to fix them both coffee. Lucius had the feeling it was going to be a very long night and he needed the caffeine. As he prepared the refreshments, he began filling Edward in on events throughout the years. Gradually, the mood lightened as they moved on to topics beyond Edward's relationship with his husband. By the time they moved back to the living room, Edward had relaxed a little.

Edward sipped from his mug feeling the tension leave his shoulders and his stomach settle. He felt nostalgic conversing with Lucius about the past and relieved as the man confirmed everything that he'd learned from Oswald. Despite Lucius' own worry to the contrary, he turned out to be a wealth of information. True, he knew less about Edward than Oswald did, but Lucius was able to provide more insight on some of the other names Edward had questions about.

First, there was Jim Gordon's wedding to Leslie Thompkins and the birth of Barbara Gordon (Jim's and Barbara's daughter apparently). Although, Edward had little personal interest in these details, he made mental note of everything he was told about Jim and Barbara. After all, there was no telling what might be pertinent to finding the common thread between his missing memories and Jim's and Barbara's.

Next, Edward was told of the reconstruction of Gotham and the following years of healing. It turned out Barbara Kean had a major role in the efforts to restore the city to its thriving former state. After Gotham's reunification with the mainland, Barbara received a full pardon and used the second chance to give back to the city. She was one of the minds instrumental in the plans to rebuild and in acquiring the funds (legitimately) to do so. She went on to become a business tycoon to rival Bruce Wayne.

Edward wasn't so much surprised as he was miffed to learn of it. From what he understood, he and Oswald were just as instrumental in the fight for Gotham but did not receive nearly the same recognition as far as he knew. But here was Barbara reaping all the benefits! Edward's indignant outburst gave Lucius pause. He was quick to remind Ed that he and Oswald both recieved pardons as well before he tactfully changed topics.

Moving on to the topic of Jim Gordon was hardly any better. Edward wasn't exactly sure why it still so thoroughly irritated him to hear about the man. It was probably to do with Jim's hypocritical morality: on the side of the law (except when he wasn't). So he was only mildly surprised to learn that the commissioner sometimes (unofficially) relied on Batman to help solve crime.

Lucius went on to detail the circumstances of Jim's memory loss. Edward learned that Jim was affected by the memory loss a few weeks before he was, and that he had been missing for several days prior. Foxy of course had his suspicions regarding Jim's disappearance. He was convinced that the commissioner had been abducted. It wasn't like Jim to wander off without a word these days, at least according to Lucius. It didn't really fit the Jim that Edward remembered. The man he remembered could very conceivably go off on his own following some impulsive hunch.

Lucius disagreed, stating, "Jim wouldn't just leave his family behind to worry like that."

It was another thing that didn't fit Edward's image of Jim. He really had a hard time picturing the former foolhardy detective ever settling down. It seemed both Barbara and Jim had changed a lot from his memories of them. Just like Oswald. It was comforting that somehow Foxy was still the same.

Lucius also provided some background information on Catwoman a.k.a Selina Kyle (that name rang a bell) and Mr. Freeze a.k.a Victor Fries. The two were both well known adversaries of Batman. As was the Riddler apparently. So far the best connection between the majority of the memory loss victims seemed to be Batman himself.

When Edward finally departed from Lucius' apartment, it was in the early hours of morning just before sunrise. After leaving, he still felt reluctant to face Oswald. He just needed a little more time to prepare himself. Besides, Edward had promised to meet Query and Echo back at the hideout. They would worry if he didn't return soon. As an added bonus, the extra time would give him the chance to figure out how he should approach Oswald and what he should say.

Since their time apart, Edward had gone through multifarious emotions. He still wasn't quite sure how to articulate exactly what he felt now. Nor had he any idea on how to proceed with Oswald and begin to rekindle what was lost. He knew now that was what he wanted. To recapture the feeling he must have had when he decided to marry Oswald. He just wasn't sure how to accomplish it.

Still lost in thought, Edward gave a distracted wave of his hand, hailing a taxi to take him back to the hideout. The yellow cab pulled to a stop beside the curb, still several feet away from him. Edward peered through the windshield to catch a glimpse of the imbecile that couldn't be bothered to pull forward. What he saw was a jittery man of small stature, grey hair that was balding, and black half-rimmed glasses, the lenses catching the light of surrounding streetlamps as he quickly averted his eyes. As Edward stepped forward he also noted the way the driver began to fidget nervously, his eyes widening as the Riddler drew near. Edward grinned. His reputation must have made quite the impression to have caused such a reaction. He hadn't considered the possibility that he would be all too recognizable in his Riddler getup, but the thought of it pleased him. Edward hopped into the vehicle causing the man to startle. He stated the address he wished to be taken to and leaned back contentedly in his seat.

"O-Of course, sir." the man stammered.

Despite the driver's meek appearance, Edward knew better than to trust him with the location of his hideout. The address he'd given was actually about a block away. One could never be too careful in Gotham. The secret base of one of the city's most notorious criminals was likely to stick in the memory. And information like that sold like hotcakes. Within a day, the poor sap would likely be tortured for the address, unless he was lucky enough to be given the opportunity to sell the Riddler out instead and smart enough to take it. Better not to take the chance as far as Edward was concerned. The bit of extra walking would be worth it.

Soon the cab lurched into drive and Edward's mind along with it. It lurched right back to Oswald. The squirming feeling in his gut returned as he contemplated meeting his husband again. Edward had no idea what he was doing. Emotional puzzles were not his forte. Emotions were messy and illogical and there was no way to be prepared for them. Not for someone like him. Edward liked to have all the information, do his research beforehand. He didn't like not knowing what to expect with Oswald. He didn't really even know the man any longer. How could he possibly rebuild an entire relationship based on that?

Edward pressed his palms against his eyes, eschewing his glasses. The pressure felt somewhat grounding. He took a deep breath to settle his racing thoughts. Lucius told him to get to know one another again. Edward could start with that. Maybe he could take Oswald out on a date. Edward nodded to himself. A date made sense. Dates were typically the way people got to know one another. Beyond that he still didn't have a clue. Edward gazed out his window. Maybe he was seeking for inspiration, but the dark city streets offered no solutions. He wondered if Oswald still liked the same things he used to. Same kind of music, same kind of wine? Once upon a time, Edward would have known exactly where to take Oswald and what to do on their date to make him happy. Not anymore.

Through the glass, the sky gradually began to change in color, morning's first light chasing away nighttime shadows. Streetlamps flickered off one by one and still they had not reached their destination. How much time had passed? Edward pulled himself out of his thoughts to take in their surroundings for the first time. Now that he was paying attention... were they even going in the right direction?

"Excuse me," Edward cleared his throat, "I think you must have taken a wrong turn."

"Indeed, sir." the driver replied softly, "Several wrong turns, in fact. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever notice, Mr. Nygma."

The driver's light, unassuming tone was at odds with the alarming news he'd just delivered. Edward was stunned. Suspended in that moment, like a fly in the spider's web.

His mind was frozen for only a second before he recovered from the shock. His hand shot out to try for the door, pulling hard at the handle and frantically throwing himself at it. Locked. A sore shoulder was all he got for his trouble. Realizing he was trapped, Edward sullenly sunk back into his seat.

"It's locked." The man echoed his finding as though it were not already obvious, "I'm so terribly sorry, but I'm afraid... well, I'm not allowed to let you leave."

"Not allowed?" Edward repeated, tone clipped, "Under whose orders?"

"You will find out soon enough." He answered, then added almost regretfully, "You really should have killed him when you had the chance."

Him?

"Now the plan has changed." the man prattled on, "And I've been bestowed the most wonderful reward... revenge against you, Mr. Nygma. I'd rather it didn't have to come to this, but you did kill me after all."

"I don't even know who you are." Edward retorted coldly.

"That is true." the driver agreed, "But I'm not sure if I should tell you."

Edward was just readying to try to provoke an answer when he was interrupted by an eerie new voice nothing like the driver's.

"Go on. Sing your song."

Edward nearly leaped out of his skin. The voice sounded like it came from right beside him but... that was impossible! The driver made a sharp right turn and something hard and small thumped into Edward's thigh. He looked down.

Chapter Text

The strange voice coming from right beside him, the unnerving fact that no one should be sitting there at all, and a soft thump of something against his thigh appeared like all the wrong pieces to a puzzle. They just didn't seem to go together. Yet, Edward was left with only those pieces to work with and no choice other than to see how they fit. Apprehensively, he looked down...

And laughed.

Just a toy! That was what had him so frightened? Edward felt plain silly for his earlier fright but also indescribably relieved. There seated beside him was nothing more than a wooden dummy, face turned as though it was watching out the window. As though it could watch out the window! The very idea! It must have been jostled by the movement of the car and it was the dummy's foot that knocked into Edward's leg.

He leaned down to inspect the toy closer. It looked quite old, the paint on it's wooden face peeling in places. In stark contrast to its weathered face, the toy's pinstripe suit was in pristine condition. The clothing, befitting a gangster from the 1920s, looked almost new and gave character to the dummy. The look certainly explained the voice. Tickled by the absurdity of the whole thing, Edward chuckled again and turned his attention back on the driver.

"You're a ventriloquist." Edward stated with amusement, "And this is your dummy. Hah, I'm actually impressed!"

Crrreee-

Edward failed to notice the odd creaking sound, but the driver, all too aware of it, quavered, "You sh-shouldn't speak about him like he isn't th-there. Mr. Scarface d-doesn't like to be ignored."

"Then maybe Mr. Scarface can tell me that himself." Edward chortled, unable to take him seriously. The man was clearly insane. Only in Gotham.

Crrreee-

"I think it's high time we teach this mook some manners." Came the voice called Mr. Scarface once more.

"Wow!" Edward said, "But really how are you doing that? It's like the dummy's really speaking."

Edward looked back down curiously at the dummy. The voice really did sound as though it were coming from right beside him. If he didn't know any better he might just believe... Were his eyes playing tricks on him? It almost looked like the dummy's head was slowly moving. Suddenly, the car whipped round a sharp turn.

Crrreee-
Click.

The figure's head snapped around. Lifeless eyes piercingly stared into Edward's own sending a chill down his spine. Edward blinked. It was surely just the force of the car. Of course, logically he knew that had to be the explanation. Creepy wooden puppets simply did not turn their heads. Not on their own. And they certainly did not see into your very soul with malice surely beyond what that tiny wooden body could possibly hold. To believe that would be irrational. Still, the effect was deeply unsettling.

"Ridiculous." Edward swallowed nervously.

"Now you've made him angry." The driver whined fearfully.

Edward was about to protest, but a loud thump from above distracted all three occupants of the vehicle. Someone was on the roof. Friend or foe? Edward didn't yet know. He wasn't sure if their arrival would prove to be more an improvement or a down turn to his current predicament, but anything had to better than being trapped by this lunatic.

"Sounds like we have company. Shake 'em lose!" Mr. Scarface snarled.

The car swerved erratically in compliance with the demand. Edward was tossed back and forth in his seat, seat belt cutting painfully into him with the force of each sharp turn. Suddenly, something big and dark covered the entirety of the front windshield. The driver, now driving blind, let out a panicked squeal.

And then they crashed.

It happened so fast. The impact of the car. Everything within thrown forward. And then thrown back. The front windshield turned to jagged, broken glass in the blink of an eye, the dark shadow that previously covered it now vanished from view.

For a moment, Edward remained dazed as the world around him stilled. As clarity returned to his mind, his first thoughts were for his physical condition, whether or not he had sustained any injuries. He could feel a pounding ache in his head but otherwise seemed to be in one piece. His next thoughts were for the condition of his captor. The driver groaned from the front seat. Still alive then. Edward didn't waste any further time and groped for the belt buckle still holding him in place. The belt released and Edward tried again for the door. Still locked. Jolted by the return of the voice beside him, Edward began desperately kicking at the door.

"Penn! Wake up!" Mr. Scarface shouted, "This is no time for a nap! He's here! Now get up!"

"W-Who's here?" the driver startled.

Edward watched the driver (Penn must be his name) turn back to peer at him and the dummy before looking out the passenger side window. The man's eyes went wide. Edward turned to look out as well. There, still several feet away, he could just make out a shadowy figure walking towards them. It was disconcertingly familiar.

"Oh dear." Edward said.

"Oh no." Penn said.

"Not him again!" They said in unison.

There stood the caped crusader himself, cape flapping dramatically behind him. It was a bit much. However, Edward was briefly envious of Batman's ostentatious cape and considered adding one to his own suit. He enjoyed being a bit much if he was being honest. With a shake of his head, Edward reluctantly dismissed the idea as impractical. Capes get caught in everything. Penn seemed to have no such notions on fashion, instead muttering fearfully to himself as Batman drew closer.

"Quit yer yappin' and get a move on!" Mr. Scarface crowed, "We got to get goin' while the gettin's good. But before that waste him."

"The B-B-Batman?" Penn stammered.

"Of course not! A weak worm like you could never take him. I meant the green bean here."

"But that's not fair! I wanted to take my time with him. Make him pay for what he did to-"

"No time!" Mr. Scarface interrupted, "I pull the strings here and I said waste him!"

"Yes sir." Penn reluctantly obeyed, producing a gun and taking aim at Edward.

Edward scoffed. He was absolutely not about to sit back and let this madman taking orders from a toy shoot him in the face! He really couldn't imagine a more ridiculous end for the Riddler. Immediately, Edward lunged to the side as the first shot was fired. He grabbed the dummy and held it up to cover himself, like a meat shield (or rather a wood shield).

"Put me down!" Mr Scarface growled.

"Not a chance." Edward retorted, before addressing Penn, "Now if you don't want anything bad to happen to your boss, you better unlock the door."

The cab's locks released with a quiet click signaling Penn's compliance. Edward was careful to keep his eyes on the driver and hold up the toy to block his aim. He reached back. He felt for the door's handle behind him and slowly opened it. This accomplished, Edward backed his way out of the vehicle, having for a split second completely forgotten about the presence of Batman. That is until he felt the strong grip of a heavy hand upon his shoulder.

"Nice work, Riddler." Batman's low gravelly voice said into his ear, "Now hand over the dummy."

"But he's going to kill me." Edward argued.

"Not today. I'll make sure you make it to a nice, safe cell in Arkham." Batman quipped, tightening his grip on Edward, "Now, no more arguing."

What choice did he have?

Edward sulked but allowed the dummy to slip from his fingers into Batman's grasp. Batman continued to hold the toy before him, making sure Edward was still safely covered. In unison, they began moving away from the taxi. Penn stepped out of the car. His eyes never left the hostage dummy, as he followed after them.

To Edward, it seemed that Batman must have some sort of plan, as though they were leading the man somewhere. Maybe to some sort of trap. It seemed impossibly crazy, but Penn docily continued to follow them. He held his fire, treating the toy as though it were truly his boss in danger. It seemed like it all might just work, but Edward could already see the flaw with this strategy.

"What are you doing, you dummy? Shoot Batman!" Mr. Scarface shouted.

Yep. That flaw.

Edward watched Penn shift his aim and everything became a blur. Before the shot was fired, Edward found himself suddenly free. The grip on his shoulder gone, Edward ducked out of the way and took off running. He heard the shot behind him and looked back just in time to see the dummy airborn and Penn lunging forward to catch it. Thrown as a distraction. Batman really was clever. Edward had to give him that. He was glad it was Penn rather than himself on the receiving end of Batman's cleverness this time. Especially when he caught sight of Batman landing a punch to the guy's gut. That had to hurt.

Turning away again to focus on his own escape, Edward sprinted down the street and ducked down an alleyway. He hoped Batman was too distracted to take notice of the direction he was going. It was his plan to be long gone by the time the Bat was through with the Ventriloquist.

Chapter Text

It had already been more than enough excitement for one day and Edward hadn't even had breakfast yet. Not that he really cared to have breakfast. On this particular morning, after the night he'd had, he didn't have much of an appetite. Having narrowly made it back to the hideout, Edward wanted nothing more than to flop into his bed and catch some z's. That would have to wait however. He knew he couldn't sleep just yet. His guilty conscience wouldn't allow it when he still owed Query and Echo an explanation for his absence.

In search of his friends rather than breakfast, Edward trudged into the kitchen. He found them there, Echo pacing furiously back and forth, Query seated at the kitchen table, distressing the wood with her nervous scratching. Edward cleared his throat to catch their attention. Query looked up and Echo turned, instant relief showing in their expressions. Edward waved at them awkwardly.

"I'm back."

"Mm-hmm. Well, no more running off on your own!" Echo scolded, "Obviously, you're completely useless without us."

She wasn't angry. Edward could see that in the slight upturn of a grin. No, she said it like a joke. But although Echo played it off lightly, Edward could also see the genuine concern behind it. She was light because he was back.

"What happened?" Query gently asked, "We really were worried."

Straightforward as Query always was. She didn't bother to hide her feelings as Echo did. She said what she meant and left no doubt to the worry he'd caused. It still lingered in her eyes the way the scent of rain lingers after a storm.

It was time to explain himself, but how to start?

"I, uh, ran into a little trouble on the way back. Dummy sized." Edward explained, indicating the size with a gesture of his hands. He expected to have to elaborate, but Echo was already nodding as though that explained everything.

"Oh. Him again."

"Again?" Edward raised an eyebrow (maybe he wouldn't have so much explaining to do after all), "So we've encountered him before? What's the deal with him?"

"The man or the dummy?" Query questioned.

"Not you too." Edward groaned, "What's the difference? That man was clearly insane and the dummy is just a toy!"

"That doesn't make the Ventriloquist any less dangerous." Echo warned, "And the distinction between him and his dummy is a lot more important than you think. Did you by chance get the name of the Ventriloquist?"

"He, or rather the dummy persona, called him Penn."

"Penn? How is that possible?" Echo thought out loud, "If it really was Penn, then this was definitely personal."

"Yeah, that one should hate you." Query agreed, pursing her lips.

Edward felt lost.

"You say that as though the dummy's had more than one loony master." He chuckled.

Laughter died in the back of his throat. It was suddenly apparent that Query and Echo were dead serious. There had been more than one! It was hard to imagine more than one psycho running around with the skills to throw their voice and puppet that same dummy, but apparently it was true. Edward really shouldn't be surprised at this point and was becoming less so with each outlandish revelation he experienced. Still, it was a lot to wrap his tired mind around. Edward sighed and slumped into a chair. Unfortunately, sleep was still going to have to wait.

"How many more of these psychos are there and what do they want with me?"

"There have been a few over the years, but the main one is Arnold Wesker." Query informed him, "However, the first Ventriloquist to be controlled by Scarface was Arthur Penn."

"Don't you mean that Penn controlled Scarface?" Edward corrected.

Echo shook her head and joined Query and Edward at the table to help explain, "No. She means that he is controlled by the dummy. It's that way with every Ventriloquist."

"That doesn't make sense."

Echo shrugged.

"Stranger things happen in Gotham." Query chirped.

Edward couldn't argue with that.

"Alright. Tell me what you know about these Ventriloquists."

He leaned forward and listened as the two proceeded to tell him about the two men, Arnold Wesker and Arthur Penn, who shared the moniker.

Arnold Wesker was the last known owner of the dummy, but he was currently locked away in Arkham. It seemed whatever scheme Scarface had cooked up this time didn't include him. The Riddler crossed paths with them occasionally, mostly involving clashes between Scarface and the Penguin. Echo and Query had little else to say about Wesker other than to wonder how it was that Scarface had changed hands back to the original Ventriloquist.

Apparently, the Ventriloquist began with Arthur Penn approximately ten years ago. Edward learned that the man started out as some jittery, little nobody until he was employed under Falcone. He first came onto the Penguin's payroll when the Iceberg Lounge opened, during the time Edward was encased in ice. He worked closely with Oswald as his assistant. As such, he was entrusted with many of the same tasks Edward himself had once performed at Oswald's side. Almost like his replacement. Edward couldn't help but make the comparison. It irked him. The idea of being so casually replaced stirred up bitter feelings and old resentments that Edward supposed he had already worked through once before. However, it felt like a fresh wound to his mind with his memory the way it was now.

Edward tried to brush off his irritation. It stuck in his mind like an itch making it difficult for him to focus on anything else. Hearing about Penn's betrayals, the first in favor of Falcone's daughter and the second to steal Oswald's treasure, made Edward feel even more agitated. To a man who enjoys puzzles, it was easy to read the pattern there, the parallels between himself and this other. Penn even tried to kill Oswald (although who in Gotham hadn't?). Luckily for Oswald, Edward was his ally at the time. Query and Echo told Edward about how he'd saved Oswald and killed Penn. Finally, the itch was scratched. The consequence was that Penn now sought revenge on him. It all made sense now. There were only one problem with it.

"So he's supposed to be dead?" Edward questioned.

"Yup." Echo agreed.

"Then how did he come back to life?" Edward muttered, deep in thought.

Were Scarface and Penn the ones responsible for his memory loss? Or was it someone else? Penn had made it clear he and Scarface weren't working alone. He must have other allies. Who might they be? Besides that mystery, there was another worry on Edward's mind. Penn was not merely his enemy. He had connections to Oswald too. What if Oswald was the next target in this plot? Edward was determined to prevent that from happening. Sleep first, but as soon as he woke up he was going home, back to the Iceberg Lounge.

Chapter Text

Sunlight streamed in through the windows. Too bright, the light lent a sharpness to every edge it touched. Edward sat at the piano, his beloved Fender Rhodes Mark II, set against the wall of his tiny flat on Grundy. With nothing better to look at than the blank brick wall before him, Edward stared down instead at stark white keys. His fingers hovered over them, waiting. Edward pressed down on a single one. The sound of it reverberated through the space, seeming to grow, seeming to invoke the presence of another. Edward breathed. He rested his hands against the keys for only a moment and then he was playing.

His fingers danced up and down the keyboard, sound pouring forth as if of its own volition. At first Edward didn’t know what it was that he played. As the notes sang out, so familiar, he began to recognize it. It was the song he had learned for Oswald. The sweet lullaby he heard for the first time hummed mournfully beneath his quilt. It was Oswald’s song. In a way, now Edward’s song too because it was his first successful attempt at piercing the ice around Oswald’s heart. In sharing it, they bonded. A smile tugged at Edward’s cheeks as he sang along to the tune.

Another voice joined in with his own, jovial as he was. Edward turned his face to look. It was Oswald there beside him, eyes bright with mirth, a wide grin of his own to match Ed’s. As they sang, Oswald leaned against the piano. Now a grand piano. Oswald clothed in fabric that glittered gold in the strange, new light that fell over them. Like the spotlight of a stage. The apartment had faded away, swallowed up in the darkness of the theater now surrounding. Oswald pushed away from the piano, and with the tip of his hat, moved across the stage. Oswald was singing to Edward now, no longer with him. His voice echoed back strangely to Edward the further away he went. All Edward could do was listen. He watched from a seat in the audience, feeling so very distant.

Then the piano picked back up and Edward looked to see who had taken his place. The man turned, light glinting off his glasses, and smirked at Edward. It was Arthur Penn who sat at the keys and the music he played sounded wrong. Discordant. He didn't belong there. Edward fumed at the performance, not that Oswald nor Penn seemed to take any notice of him, singing along together. Soon the song came to an end and an invisible audience began to applaud. Oswald and Penn moved to center stage to take their bow.

And it was wrong! Edward wanted to leap up to take his proper place, the place at Oswald's side. It should be him there. Edward deserved the applause, not Penn, but he couldn't move. His feet were encased in ice, anchoring him in place. It was spreading, but all Edward could notice was them. Mostly Oswald. Something had changed. There was something wrong with him. The pair onstage dipped down in unison, movements perfectly in sync, and Edward felt a sudden dread. The light turned red. They raised back up and Oswald had no face!

"I don't know you!" Edward cried, as he pointed with an accusatory finger, "You're not the same! Not the- YOU'VE CHANGED!"

"You really should have killed him when you had the chance." Penn's voice echoed in Edward's ears.

The Oswald-shaped figure with no face slithered forward. Edward tried to step back, but he still couldn't move with ice now covering his legs. It was getting closer. It was getting closer and he couldn't move! The dread speared him through, as the unrelenting cold rose up. It was getting closer and it was reaching for him and he couldn't move! Icy, hot dread to his very core. His chest was frozen. He couldn't move! He couldn't move! No escape. It was reaching! Reaching...

Edward couldn't scream.

He couldn't scream!

HE COULDN'T SCREAM!

Edward gasped. His heart thrummed, frenzied by the still too fresh terror of the dream. It felt so real. In his perturbed state, it took Edward a moment to realize his eyes were already open. He blindly reached through the pitch black of the room and switched on a nearby lamp. Warm light flooded the space, easing his senses. His pulse slowed back to its regular rhythm with a few careful breaths. Deep breaths, in and out until he felt more grounded. Now, the dream was quickly fading and the fear along with it.

Edward rubbed a hand down his face and groaned. Picking up his glasses, he put them on and swung himself out of bed. He took a steadying breath and then methodically began the routine of getting dressed for the day, trying not to dwell on the vision of Oswald with no face. He wasn't sure what to make of that. Or what to make of the rest of the dream for that matter. Probably just nerves.

He chose to think of something else. Anything else. His mind informed him that he would be seeing the real Oswald soon and sent his heart aflutter. In his excitement, Edward was quickly dressed, hair combed and styled, and teeth brushed. There was only one final touch for it to be complete. Edward neatly knotted the swirling purple tie he'd chosen for its resemblance to one he'd seen Oswald wear ages ago. He thought the color complimented the green of his suit wonderfully. Then Edward made his way to the kitchen. It was his intention to only say a quick 'good morning' to his friends before departing. However, his friends weren't about to let him escape that easily.

Echo whistled, "Wow, Riddler! Lookin' sharp."

"All dressed up for a date?" Query tittered.

Edward's cheeks pinked. He cleared his throat, "It's not a date per se. I just need to talk to Oswald. That's all."

"Mm-hm, but you must really be looking forward to your little talk dressed like that." Echo chuckled, "You sure that's all you have planned?"

Edward just stared at her blankly, not sure what she was getting at.

Query sighed, "He really is hopeless, isn't he?"

"Yup." Echo agreed before addressing Edward again, "Look, if you're going to go back after all this time, you can't just walk in there to have an ordinary chat. Where's the romance in that?"

"Doesn't sound like you're going to let me be about this."

"Not a chance!" Both women giggled.

"Fine." Edward shrugged, "Then what do you suggest?"

"Well, to start, flowers..."

In the end, Edward left the hideout with the trappings of a basic date. In one hand, he carried a small bundle of lilies, in the other, an unopened bottle of wine, and slung over an arm was a picnic basket filled with treats. Echo and Query had thought of every detail, rightfully anticipating that Edward might not be properly prepared on his own. It wasn't that Edward couldn't have come up with it himself. He could be quite thoughtful and romantic, but it was still strange thinking of Oswald in that capacity.

Besides, in the chaos of everything else going on, it had seemed appropriate to place those thoughts on the back burner in favor of solving more practical problems. It seemed appropriate, but here he stood at the entrance to the Iceberg Lounge, preparing himself to go ask Oswald on a date. Edward swallowed nervously. He steeled himself and walked in.

Standing in the entry, Edward scanned the space. He could see only a few of Oswald's staff but no sign of Oswald himself. A few heads turned to look in his direction, nodding in acknowledgement at the sight of the Penguin's husband. Edward sauntered deeper into the club, doing his best to exude more confidence than he actually felt. Whether or not he succeeded, not a soul would have dared to insinuate otherwise.

When Edward didn't find Oswald at the bar or in his office, he decided to go up to the penthouse apartment and check for him there. He took the elevator, feeling giddy to be coming home. Though he'd not spent much time there (certainly not in comparison to his own hideout), he still considered this place his home. He wasn't sure exactly when he began to think about it that way, but being so close he couldn't deny it now.

He of course had his own key and let himself in. He took in everything, admiring the decor in a way he'd been unable to appreciate before. He set his picnic basket and wine on the coffee table, still not having caught sight of Oswald. But he could hear his voice. It sounded as though Oswald were in the midst of a conversation, although Edward couldn't make out another voice. Still clutching his bouquet, Edward followed the sound to their bedroom. The door was open just a crack. Quietly, Edward peered into the room and the flowers fell from his fingers.

"No, Edward doesn't know about you." Oswald was saying.

From his vantage point Edward could see who Oswald was speaking to. Sitting on the bed next to his husband, there was a man. He was completely unfamiliar to Edward, tall, handsome, loose brown curls falling across his forehead. In a way, he almost resembled Edward when he was much younger.

Well, it seems Oswald has a type, doesn't he?

Jealousy formed an ugly knot in the pit of his stomach at the unwelcome thought. Edward fought back against jumping to conclusions, but the idea nagged at him that maybe it was just as it appeared. He didn't like being in the dark on the mystery man's identity. He didn't like that his husband was clearly sharing secrets with him that he was keeping from Ed. And he really didn't like the man's proximity to his husband on his own bed! Edward was pulled from the thought as he heard Oswald speak up again.

"I think we should wait a little longer. He won't know anything yet. He can find out when we're ready to deal with him."

And didn't that sound suspious!

Edward watched as Oswald patted the young man's knee affectionately and something in him snapped. It was just like he dreamed! Someone had once again taken his place and the Oswald in their bedroom was unrecognizable. Conspiring against him like Edward meant nothing! What were they plotting? Whatever it was, they wouldn't get away with it. He would make sure of that!

Enraged, Edward slammed open the door. Not his best plan, but in the moment he didn't care. At least he had the element of surprise. Oswald jumped, eyes wide as saucers. The mystery man quickly shot up, standing protectively between Oswald and Edward. In a blind fury, Edward charged at the man, knocking him back down. Before anyone could react further, Edward was grabbing the man by the throat and pinning him to the bed beneath.

"Ed! Ed Stop!" Oswald called behind him.

Edward ignored him, his every ounce of attention on the stranger beneath him. His every thought of strangling the life from him. He tightened his grip until he could hear the young man choking.

"WHO THE HECK DO YOU THINK ARE YOU?!" Edward bellowed.

He was still choking off the man's airway and unlikely to get an answer this way, but he was beyond reason. And it felt good. The man glared up at Edward, gritting his teeth. Behind him, Oswald continued his protests, but Edward was completely unconscious of them. He was transfixed by the shade of purple the stranger's face was beginning to turn.

And then something bashed the back of Edward's head. He looked back dazed. It was Oswald, cane raised to strike him again if necessary.

"EDWARD NYGMA-COBBLEPOT! Get your hands OFF our son!"

Chapter Text

Who am I?

It was the question that had plagued Edward all his life. As far back as he could remember. From the time he was a child, he had questioned who he really was. He never really felt comfortable in his identity. Being Edward Nashton was miserable. Being the son of his parents even more so. So maybe he wasn't himself. Maybe he was really someone else.

Like his mother when no one else was around to see. On the surface, she was sweet smiles, warm words, and a good mother. She played the part so well that even Edward believed it. But when no one was looking her eyes turned cold and mischievous. Her mischiefs were always small but nevertheless confusing. She might stick her leg out as Edward walked by, causing him to stumble and fall, only to be there in the next moment tsking at his clumsiness and helping him back up. She would always seem so sincere that truly Edward had to believe it was merely an accident. Other times she was rough with him, yanking at his hair when she combed it or squeezing his hand too tightly as they crossed the street. And if Edward complained, he was being a crybaby. He just needed to toughen up and act like a man. Even though he was only a child.

Or maybe like his father was someone else when he had too much to drink. Sober, the man was mild mannered enough, though distant. Edward preferred him this way. The alternative was the beast of a man that emerged with the consumption of alcohol. He was violence and anger, harsh words and a harsher hand. Edward could do nothing right when his father was like this. No, when his father was drunk, Edward was a fucking liar, a damn cheater, and the son of a bitch. The insults were always accompanied by beatings, belt across his backside until he was too sore to sit. The agony of it would keep Edward awake at night as he struggled to find some position that didn't aggravate the pain. He never hit him anywhere else. His father was too clever to leave bruises where they might be noticed and considered abusive, but Edward was broken all the same. He knew his father hated him. The alcohol only brought out the truth, didn't it? If Edward were someone else, someone stronger and smarter, maybe then he wouldn't be such a disappointment. Maybe then he would be a worthy son.

As a child, Edward couldn't know that it was really a feud between his parents. That they never really saw him. He was simply caught in the middle, a casualty of the resentments between each other. As he got older he did begin to notice that his father mostly lashed out at him when his mother wasn't around to take it instead, using insults that mirrored the ones he hurled at her. He began to recognize the same looks of disgust his mother directed at his father in the way she looked at him, the son that so resembled the man she hated. But even with these revelations, the damage was already done.

Edward withdrew into himself. He became timid and muted, his best attempts at remaining inconspicuous. If he didn't draw attention with his quirks and eccentricities, maybe he could be accepted. Edward didn't fit into his parents' lives. He would never be the cared for son he longed to be. But in his attempts he lost himself, became no one. He had no one and no one would notice or care if he was gone. And if there was no one to notice, did he even really exist at all? Edward Nashton was broken fragments of a self and everything always came back to that same question.

Who am I?

So he fashioned a new identity for himself from the broken pieces and created Edward Nygma. An enigma was interesting. An enigma would be noticed by those clever enough to see. And an enigma didn't have to fully understand who he was. He could leave the trauma behind and live an ordinary life. Mostly ordinary. There was one thing Edward knew wasn't common, one thing he knew without a doubt he would never have. Most ordinary people at some point in their lives decided to have them, but Edward Nygma knew he never would.

Who am I?

The answer was definitely not a father.

It was for this reason that the words didn't register immediately.

Get your hands off our sun...

Our sun?

Was this a riddle?

Then it snapped.

Oh...

Oh God!

Edward's hands loosened their grip immediately. He looked down to the young man beneath him, eyes widening with horror at what he'd nearly done. What he might have done! His own son lay gasping for air and Edward could already see purple bruises blooming around the young man's throat in the shape of his own fingers. His hands shook. He felt ill. It wasn't possible! He was never meant to be a father for this very reason. Because he'd make a lousy one. His mind couldn't reconcile the shock of it. Really, it didn't feel real.

"It can't be..." Edward murmured, slowly removing himself and stepping back, "Our son. I am a... I am... I'm so-so sorry."

It couldn't possibly be enough.

"I-I'm not myself." Edward rambled, "I would never hurt- I didn't know that-"

"Edward!" Oswald cut in sternly, "Now isn't the time."

Edward shut his mouth and watched Oswald hovering over their son. The young man looked like he would be okay. A more natural color had already returned to his face and his breathing had steadied. Oswald hauled him up into a sitting position.

"Are you alright?" Oswald asked.

The young man nodded and signed something to Oswald that Edward couldn't read. Not because he didn't know ASL, but because he was now watching his own traitorous hands as though they'd suddenly sprouted squirming serpents where fingers once were. They felt dangerous. He felt dangerous. Edward might have killed Oswald before and now he'd nearly killed their child. What else might his memory loss and misguided impulses cause him to do? And after all he'd sworn he'd never become like his parents.

"Ed?" Oswald snapped him back from that line of thought.

Edward looked up. Oswald's mouth fixed into a grim line. Edward couldn't exactly read the expression there, but his stomach dropped at the sight of it. Whatever it meant, there was a gravity to it that weighed on him and made him feel like he was suffocating.

"Martin, would you give us a moment? I need to speak with Edward alone." Oswald said, "I'll be back in a moment with some tea for your throat."

Oswald didn't wait for a response before sweeping out of the room. Edward picked up his leaden feet to reluctantly follow him out. He paused only a moment to stoop down and pick up his nearly forgotten bouquet. This was supposed to be a new beginning for them, a romantic reunion, and Edward had already made a mess of it. He quietly shut the door behind himself.

After a quick glance back to be sure Ed was coming, Oswald walked briskly into the kitchen to prepare their son's tea. Edward was still reeling from the idea of it. A son. Martin. That was his name. Their son's name. Oh god...

"Oswald, I really am so-"

"Stop." Oswald held up a hand, "I know you wouldn't intentionally hurt Martin. I don't blame you for that. I don't really blame you at all..."

Oswald trailed off, turning away from him, but Edward knew there was more. He waited silently as Oswald began fixing the tea. A kettle was filled. The water was set to boil. Oswald drummed his fingers against the countertop, back still turned. Edward fidgeted. Finally, Oswald spoke up.

"I thought I could do this with you. I wanted to be better than I was in the past and put you first this time. But..." Oswald's voice broke, "It hurts too badly, Eddie, I-I can't. This isn't your fault, but he might have..."

"I might have killed him." Edward finished somberly.

Oswald took in a sharp breath, straightened his shoulders, and turned to face him once more. Edward could see that Oswald had gathered together all his resolve to finish what he had to say. Cold steel in his eyes.

"I can't do this if you can't trust me. I do love you. I believe you now feel the same." Oswald nodded at the flowers still clutched in Edward's hand, "But this isn't just about us. I want to do everything I can to take care of you, but I have our son to protect as well. So tell me, Edward... can you trust me?"

Edward swallowed.

That was the big question now, wasn't it? As if his life were not already full of questions he didn't know how to answer. Could he trust Oswald? Somehow without even explaining himself, Oswald had already seen to the root of Edward's problem. Already figured out why he had nearly strangled their son to death. He had still doubted Oswald. Despite the feelings he now accepted, despite the desire to get close to Oswald, a part of him still believed the man would betray him. And those doubts had nearly cost them both.

Oswald was right to demand an answer from him.

But trust was something built. It took time and patience. It was built on history and understanding. All resources Edward simply did not have at his disposal. And his ability to trust was so badly damaged. If he were to be honest with Oswald, and he knew he must, there could only be one answer.

"I don't know."

Oswald's steely gaze hardened.

Edward continued before he could say a word, "I don't know, but I've decided that I want to. I want to rebuild what we had together. I came here today with that intention before I messed it all up. I'd hoped, well, I'd hoped to take you on a date. Maybe talk. Get to know you again. I've decided I want to be with you, Oswald. And I am trying, really trying."

Oswald softened at that.

"I suppose I've made a mess of things too. I... I should have told you sooner" Oswald sighed, "I was worried it might be too much too soon. But I didn't want you to find out this way. I know you never wanted to be a father."

They stood awkwardly, silently, eyes averted. Edward wasn't sure what to say to that. The kettle whistled. Oswald turned to attend to it and Edward was grateful for the distraction. It gave his mind time to clear, and as it did, his curiosity piqued.

"So is he...?"

"Biologically yours? No." Oswald shook his head, pouring steaming liquid into a set of delicate teacups.

Three teacups, Edward noted.

"Then he's yours?" Edward asked, barely stifling the jealous pang at the thought of Oswald being intimate with someone else.

"No. He's adopted."

It shouldn't matter, but Edward felt relieved all the same.

"I adopted him." Oswald continued telling him, "Before we were married, actually, before we were even allies again, I chose to become Martin's legal guardian. In the beginning, I sent him away for his own safety. No one was ever supposed to know about him. See, I never really intended to fill the role of a father. I just meant to take care of him from a distance and it was easier if I had legal custody."

"Sounds like what a good parent would do if you ask me." Edward commented, "What changed?"

Oswald smiled, "I couldn't stay away. As you know, I'm greedy that way. Selfish. I can't stand to be parted for too long from those I care about."

"So... adopting was your idea. You chose him." Edward thought aloud, setting his lilies aside.

Edward didn't say it to blame Oswald. He was just trying to piece things together. That it was Oswald's idea, not his own. It made sense. Oswald was the sentimental sort and he'd had a good relationship with his parents even if it wasn't conventional. The piece that didn't fit was Edward himself. He wondered how it was he found himself living the life of a man who had made all the choices he swore he never would. He would never love Oswald. He would never be a father. And yet here he was. Although baffled, Edward felt relief to find he was no longer opposed to either of those realities. Merely curious to understand and wishing even more that he had access to the memories that could explain it.

"You know, you chose him too." Oswald said after the brief silence.

"How do you mean?" Edward quirked a brow.

"Well, I was his parent and you were my partner, but I never pressured you to feel like you had to share the burden of parenthood with me." Oswald bit his lip, looking a little anxious, "I know about your childhood, Eddie. I knew that the thought of raising a child it... it scared you."

Then his expression softened, "But like me, you just couldn't resist Martin's charm. He's such a sweet boy and clever just like you. In time, we became a true family and you adopted him too."

"Can I meet him? I mean, again. If he wants to that is after I, um..." Edward mumbled.

"Martin knows your condition, and besides, he adores you. I'm sure you're already forgiven." Oswald reassured, taking up the tea tray he'd prepared and leading the way back to the bedroom.

Edward nodded a little uncertainly and trailed after him.

Who am I?

The answer was more important than ever. There was too much at stake to leave it an enigma. But he hadn't been only an enigma in a long time. And who better to find answers to the mysteries at hand than the Riddler? He'd found a new resolve. Edward would figure out what had happened to his memories and those of the other victims. He would find out who was behind it all. And more than anything, he would protect this family he finally fit into where he didn't have to be more than himself. Someone had tried to take that away from him and they weren't going to get away with it.

Chapter Text

Edward quietly shuffled in. Despite Oswald's reassurances, he still felt guilty and awkward. Everything felt so unfamiliar and he wasn't sure how to conduct himself. So Edward hovered anxiously at the perimeter of the room while Oswald easily made his way to the heart of it. He envied him. Oswald carried himself with such ease. Like he belonged here. Of course he did. It was their bedroom after all. Edward supposed he should feel he belonged here as much as Oswald did, but he didn't. He felt instead like an outsider looking in. Hanging back to observe, Edward watched Oswald set down his tea tray and sit next to Martin on the bed. There was not an ounce of awkwardness between them as Oswald hugged his son. Their son, Edward corrected himself mentally. Oswald pulled away and handed their son his cup of tea before turning back to Edward.

"Ed?" Oswald called gently, indicating with a nod of his head for Edward to come take his own cup.

Edward contemplated it. However, doing so would require him to traverse the wide expanse of space between his current location and that of the bed. To leave the safety of the wall behind and maybe even look up from his feet. He hesitated.

In that moment, a blur of motion caught his attention. Edward looked up to see Martin waving him over too. The young man smiled uncertainly at him, looking as self-conscious as he felt but so welcoming anyway. Edward returned a cautious smile of his own. Oswald might just be right (he usually was, now that Edward stopped to think about it). Despite the awkward circumstances and having been strangled nearly to death, Martin appeared to have already forgiven him.

Edward felt a swell of complex emotions well up in him at that. It was something he had difficulty understanding. Martin had forgiven him so easily. Oswald always forgave him so easily. Edward didn't. He didn't forgive like they did. Their forgiveness should make him feel better. Instead he felt shame. It made him feel even more out of place. How could someone like him belong with them? What if he hurt them again?

It must have shown on his face. That startled Edward a bit. His emotions rarely ever showed on his face until he was ready to reveal them. But clearly they could see it. Both wore concerned expressions and Oswald looked as though he were about to say something. It was enough. He wasn't sure he could take anymore of Oswald's patience with him.

Edward took one determined step forward. And then another. He made the journey from wall to bedside and took his cup from Oswald. The warmth of it's contents transferred to his fingers, not burning but pleasant, and the calming scent of tea wafted up to his nose. Edward inhaled deeply. And let it go as a sigh, releasing some of his tension. He did belong because they were his family. He was part of them. It made him want to be better.

Having served everyone else, Oswald took up his own cup, taking a sip and making a face. Edward made note of it. It seemed Oswald still had a taste for sweets.

"Needs more honey." Oswald indicated his cup, "I'll be back in a minute."

Edward fidgeted. Martin motioned for him to take a seat in the nearby chair. There was something in the young man's gesture that was so very like Oswald. It caught Edward off guard and a small, wondering smile crept across his face. It was strange and incredible to see all the ways their son was like his husband. Edward sat down trying to relax. Martin studied him curiously, taking careful sips from his cup. After a moment spent enjoying the tea, he set it aside. He scratched at the right side of his head, a sort of tick that showed him deep in thought. And that was just like Edward. He felt pride seeing a part of himself had rubbed off on their son too.

"He told you who I am?" Martin signed, more as a way to start conversation than an actual need for information.

Edward nodded anyway.

"Yes." He signed back, apologetic furrow to his brow, "You're my son. I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Martin reassured, "I know about what you're going through. Bird told me."

Bird? Edward wasn't sure if he'd read that sign correctly. He made the gesture back to Martin, a questioning look on his face.

Martin smiled with amusement and nodded.

"Bird. It's what I call Oswald." He explained, finger-spelling Oswald's given name.

Oswald returned in time to see what Martin had told Ed and elaborated, "He gave me that name when he was first learning sign language because he thought I resemble a bird."

"Not wholly true." Martin signed, mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"True enough!" Oswald squawked indignantly, "And it is what you call me."

"Only because you declined Penguin." Martin countered animatedly, smirking.

"Because!" Oswald voiced loudly before signing the rest vehemently, "It looks silly!"

Edward chuckled. The sign for "penguin" had in fact looked very silly. He couldn't imagine Oswald's prideful nature enduring it. "Bird" suited him just as well in Ed's opinion. Oswald could be very bird-like. He wondered if Martin had bestowed him with his own sign name. Edward certainly hoped so.

As though reading his mind, Oswald said, "He has one for you too, Eddie. I think you'll like it."

Martin nodded agreement and made the signs that to him symbolized Ed. His hand first formed the sign that signaled a question then it morphed into the sign for the letter "E."

A question mark and an "E." The Riddler's symbol and the first letter of his name. Edward liked it.

"And you thought the Riddler was a sillier name than the Penguin." Edward told Oswald smugly, thinking of the way Martin had translated each of their monikers into sign.

"God, even without your memory you still say that." Oswald groaned.

Edward couldn't pinpoint the exact moment in the conversation when he had finally relaxed and began to enjoy himself, but he definitely was. The lighthearted teasing between the three of them was effortless and conversation flowed smoothly without the previous awkwardness to it. As the little family sat, drinking their tea, they eventually worked their way to more serious topics of discussion. Edward shared his experiences since going off on his own, interrupted only by the occasional questions from Martin. Oswald took in the information surprisingly silent, until Edward mentioned his abduction at the hands of an old enemy.

"ARNOLD PENN?!" Oswald yelled, "That little weasel is responsible for all of this?!"

"I believe his name is Arthur. Arthur Penn." Edward corrected.

"Who cares! How is this even possible? He's supposed to be dead!"

It was clear from the way his body shook with barely contained fury that Oswald was not handling the news very well. Martin placed a hand on his dad's shoulder to calm him. After a moment, Oswald huffed but settled back down at which point Martin caught his eye. The two shared a meaningful look as though some new revelation had just dawned on the both of them.

"This seems to prove my suspicions true." Oswald muttered more subdued now.

Martin nodded his agreement. He looked sure that Oswald was right and he also looked worried. Whatever Oswald thought, it must be bad news. Martin sighed and signed to them that he would be going. He had errands of his own to take care of and should get back to them.

"Sorry for interrupting your date." Martin turned a sheepish grin to Edward.

"You knew?"

Martin shrugged before explaining, "I saw the flowers."

"Oh. Well, it was worth it anyway." Edward replied, "I'm happy to have met you, Martin."

As Martin stood to leave, Edward hesitantly got to his feet as well and wrapped his arms around his son. He felt relieved when Martin returned the hug easily. Like it was a natural, common thing between them. Edward held on for a brief moment before pulling away to let Martin go on his way. With a final wave goodbye, the young man took up their now empty teacups and quietly departed, closing the door behind him.

"He's a good kid." Edward said, sitting back down.

"He is." Oswald agreed with evident pride.

"So, what were you saying about your suspicions?" Edward asked, getting back on topic.

Oswald blinked, thinking back to where their conversation left off before Martin's departure. The suspicions that were seemingly confirmed by Penn's resurrection. Edward waited patiently as Oswald gathered his thoughts.

"Well, while you were gone, I've been doing a little investigation of my own." Oswald puffed up proudly, "I attempted to bribe some of Arkham's staff into giving me any information they had on your memory loss. They claimed they knew nothing about it."

"But clearly they told you something." Edward pressed with a sly smirk.

"That they did, Eddie. When bribery failed to turn up any results I was forced to use... less civil means."

It was left unsaid, but the implications were pretty clear. He either used torture or threat, maybe even both, to get the information he wanted. Edward chuckled at the knowledge of it.

"That seemed to jog a few memories." Oswald continued, giving a chuckle of his own, "It turned out. They were telling the truth about you. No one knew how or why you lost your memory. But I did learn about the other victims suffering the same fate."

"Jim, Barbara, Freeze, Catwoman, and Dr. Patel." Edward recited from memory, "That's the same information I found out."

Oswald clicked his tongue, wagging a finger at him, "Not quite. There was one more name I managed to uncover. Victor Zsasz."

Edward remembered the man. Bald, loved guns, huge fan of the disco. He also used to be employed by Oswald. Another connection perhaps? Even with another piece of the puzzle slotted into place, Edward still couldn't see the full picture.

"I was somewhat surprised to hear that name come up." Oswald said, "Because I'd received a call from Victor just a few days prior. From our conversation, I hadn't even known he'd lost his memory. I decided to speak with him in person. I wanted to find out if he really was one of the memory loss victims or if my sources were mistaken."

"Was he?" Edward asked.

"Yup. He lost even more time than you. But unlike you he realized it immediately." Oswald explained, "Because of his scars. I don't know if you're aware, but he cuts a mark into his own flesh for every kill he makes. With all the marks on his body, he immediately realized what had happened to him. He also had a new mark, one not made by his hand. And that leads me to my suspicions."

Edward perked up, eager to hear it.

"I think Hugo Strange is behind all of this." Oswald declared, "There was a fresh incision on Victor's scalp. It was sort of like the one you got all those years ago when you were being controlled."

Even though he didn't remember it, Edward knew what Oswald was speaking of. Back before, when they were still at odds with each other, Oswald had chosen to save him anyway by paying Strange to bring him back to life. In doing so, Oswald had unwittingly allowed Strange to implant a chip in Edward's brain to control his mind. Tampering with minds and bringing back the dead. It made sense that he should be the one behind this.

"But why? For what purpose?"

"Does he need a reason?! It's probably just another one of his crazy experiments!"

"Every experiment has a purpose, Oswald. Even if it is just to gather information." Edward argued, "And I don't know what Strange is after."

"Well, now I know everything you know and you know everything I know." Oswald sighed.

A solemn silence permeated as they each considered what they'd learned. Despite the heavy nature of the information he'd just gained, Edward felt somehow lighter. They were getting closer to solving his problems and maybe soon he'd have his memories back.

"Do I?" Edward questioned playfully to lighten Oswald's mood.

"Do you what?" Oswald asked confused.

"Know everything you know," Edward chuckled, "You're not hiding a dozen more children somewhere are you?"

Oswald winced and Edward laughed.

"No, Martin is our only child. But there is something I haven't shared."

"What is it?" Edward furrowed his brow.

"Nothing serious." Oswald assured, "I'd like to show you if you'll come with me to my father's house."

The Van Dahl manor? Well, it wasn't exactly the date he'd had in mind, but curiosity got the better of Edward. Besides, learning more about Oswald was one of his goals and this would definitely help towards that end.

"It's a date." Edward agreed, "On the condition that we take the picnic Query and Echo prepared for us. I'm famished."

Chapter Text

It was sort of nostalgic sitting in the back of a limo with Oswald again. More nostalgic still, that they were on their way to the Van Dahl manor. Edward wasn't really surprised to learn that Oswald was still in possession of the property after all these years. Just like in the past, he'd still referred to it as his father's house. Part of Oswald's sentimentality he supposed.

To Edward it was something else entirely. Not Elijah Van Dahl's house. Not really Oswald's either. The manor belonged to the past, a lifetime still all too fresh in Edward's mind. He was nervous. Silly to be nervous of bricks and mortar, grand rooms with high ceilings, ornate mouldings and Victorian details. The idea that somewhere at the heart there would be a fireplace and a sofa where he'd once let down his guard and made a promise sent his thoughts racing. He wondered if Oswald ever thought back to that moment or if it was wiped clean along with less pleasant memories to follow. All the unpleasant memories to follow; they flashed through his mind. Edward inhaled a sharp breath.

Maybe they'd started over, chosen a later moment in time to begin and left everything else forgotten. Now those earlier memories were all that were left to Edward. The good and the bad. Although he'd dealt with them and come to accept Oswald, he really was nervous to be confronted with it all again so soon and in such a physical way. Like going back to that place might take him back in time. Logically, he knew better, but he also knew the powerful way places could stir up such things. He didn't handle strong emotions well and the thought of it had him fidgeting in his seat. He worried at the hem of his coat, the fabric between his fingers serving to slow his racing thoughts just a bit even if it couldn't distract from them entirely.

Oswald noticed. Of course he noticed. It seemed in all the time missing from his mind, Oswald had become quite attentive (at least towards Edward). Maybe he had always been and Edward only noticed it now. Looking back, he could quite clearly see the signs of Oswald's care for him. Edward gave a strained smile, his attempt to convey that all was fine. He wasn't sure who it was he was trying to convince.

In response, Oswald gave a light pat to Edward's shoulder to reassure him. Then the man withdrew and dug into his coat pockets. Edward listened to him grumbling to himself as he searched before finally withdrawing a tiny, odd-looking cube.

"Here." He said, handing it to Edward, "Should keep you distracted at least until we get there."

Edward took the trinket, turning it between his fingers to better examine it. It appeared to be a puzzle of some sort. And more impressively, one he couldn't solve at first glance.

"Thank you, Oswald." Edward murmured grateful for something to fidget with, before turning his attention back to the puzzle.

"You're welcome." Oswald smiled, "They're not easy to come by you know. But I think I've gotten better at selecting something adequately challenging."

Edward had to agree. The little puzzle did its job, occupying his mind until they were only five minutes away. The remainder of that time he filled explaining to Oswald the steps he took to do it. Oswald nodded along looking very occasionally baffled but mostly impressed. It felt good to show off a bit and that more than anything was what finally relaxed Edward.

When they arrived to the old home, it wasn't as bad as he anticipated. The setting did stir up memories, however, it was the good memories that sprung forth most strongly. In particular, as they drove up the winding drive, the sight of the old house brought forth the memory of the first time he laid eyes on it. He clearly remembered that first night when Oswald had taken him from Arkham and given Edward a place to stay. Given him a home. He remembered it feeling like a dream then too. When his eyes first fell on Van Dahl manor, Edward had gasped. He remembered Oswald's pleased smile when he proudly announced to him that he was welcome to stay there for however long he liked. Oswald told him...

"Welcome home!" Oswald announced, drawing Edward back to the present, "Well, home away from home anyway."

Inside, it was mostly as Edward remembered. The rooms still held many of the familiarly lavish furnishings. There were maybe a few art pieces here and there that had been exchanged for something new. A large painting of their family portrait caught Edward's attention. In it, he and Oswald stood side by side. Edward's painted hand rested on Oswald's shoulder, looking entirely natural and relaxed. At the center, just in front of the both of them, stood a much younger Martin. The child smiled, dimples in his rosy cheeks. They looked happy.

They would be again. Edward was determined to make it so starting with the promised picnic treats. Edward took the lead in heading for the dining room. It was one of the perks of being back in familiar territory; he knew his way around the place as well as Oswald did. He set down the wine and picnic basket and was just about to begin unpacking it when Oswald interrupted.

"Nope. Not here." Oswald said, scooping up the basket once more, "I've got something better in mind."

"Does this have anything to do with what you wanted to show me?" Edward grinned.

"Mhm!" Oswald hummed excitedly, "Follow me."

Edward followed him out and down a corridor he knew led back outside. If memory served him, they would shortly be walking out onto a terrace overlooking a garden. An outdoor picnic sounded nice, although he wouldn't have necessarily called it better. Edward was surprised to have his assumptions challenged when they rounded a corner and where once there had been a door, there now stood an open arch beyond which the corridor stretched onward. Apparently, there had been some remodeling. There were a few doors they passed along the way, but it was the set of double doors at the end that seemed to be their destination. Edward felt curious about the new addition to the home, wondering what it could possibly be. They soon stood before the doors and Oswald halted, letting the anticipation build for only a moment.

Finally throwing them open, Oswald trilled, "Ta Da!"

Edward stepped through, taking in the impressively large new space. For only a moment it appeared they had stepped outside, bright sunlight shining through glass panes above. Steal ribs showed off the structure, and the shape greatly resembled a large bird cage (a bit on the nose). Netting and vegetation added to the outdoorsy environment. Some variety of exotic, colorful bird flew above them too quickly for Edward to identify. He could hear the varied chirps of more birds in the background, lending the place an infectious cheeriness. Oswald was right. It would make a lovely spot to have their picnic.

"So this was your last big secret?" Edward raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Well, not exactly a secret." Oswald admitted, "More like a... a surprise!"

"A surprise?"

"You don't... look surprised." Oswald deflated.

"It's hardly surprising given your theme, Oswald." Edward teased playfully.

"Well, I thought you'd at least be excited." Oswald pouted, "We used to spend hours here together. Every weekend in fact. You always seemed so happy then."

"I am happy." Edward encouraged, before adding with a chuckle, "Just not surprised. I remember you mentioning once that you'd like an aviary."

"Did I?" Oswald furrowed his brow, "I don't recall sharing my interest in birds with anyone until only a few years ago."

"I guess you wouldn't remember it. You were heavily intoxicated at the time." Edward replied, grinning at the memory, "We were celebrating your mayoral election."

"Oh god." Oswald groaned, "I do remember that. I started saying all sorts of things. And you let me jabber on like a fool."

As they talked, they made their way down the path that led to a round bistro table and two chairs. Oswald set the picnic basket on top and this time when Edward began digging out the contents he made no objection.

First, he pulled out the two wine glasses on top, which Oswald began filling immediately, before digging into the other goodies. There were three varieties of mini sandwiches (crustless cucumber sandwiches, chicken salad sandwiches, and simple ham and swiss with a spicy mustard). Under those, Edward found a container of cherry tomatoes, carrot sticks and green olives, and another of mixed berries and grapes. For desert there were green walnut pistachio muffins and strawberry muffins, and at the bottom of the basket a small iced lemon cake. Edward grinned at the look on Oswald's face as he pulled out the last of the picnic. It was more food than two people could ever possibly eat. It seemed Query and Echo shared his penchant for being a little over the top.

"Tada." Edward chuckled at the surprised look on Oswald's face, "You seem quite surprised."

Oswald returned a watery smile, "I just didn't expect all this. It's nice."

"Well, you can thank Query and Echo for that. The picnic was their idea and they're the ones who prepared everything." Edward rambled on obliviously.

"I am grateful for all of this." Oswald gestured to the food, "but that's not what I meant. I'm... I missed you, Eddie. It's sinking in that you're really back with me and it feels like before. I'm just so glad you're here."

"Oh." Edward's mind short-circuited as he turned to face Oswald. He knew he should say something but he was failing to find the right words. He wanted to let Oswald know what he felt now. He wanted to reassure him it was true. That he was back and that he would stay this time even if his memories never returned.

Edward cleared his throat awkwardly, "I really missed you too, Oswald. I won't leave again."

It didn't feel like enough to truly convey how he felt, but Oswald still looked back at him like he hung the moon. Edward was awestruck by that look. It was the way Oswald's eyes seemed to light up when he looked at him. Edward could get used to the swooping feeling this caused in the pit of his stomach, but somehow he knew the sight would never completely cease to amaze him. There would always be some part of him that wondered how it was possible for someone to gaze at him like that. And another part that now realized how impossibly lucky he was that the someone was Oswald.

Tentatively, Edward reached out to cup Oswald's face. Maybe it was some lingering habit to make sure he was really there. The touch of his fingers to Oswald's skin felt familiar, almost instinctual, his hand pressing into the other man's cheek as though he'd done it a thousand times. He probably had and took comfort in that.

After a few heartbeats of stillness and silence, Oswald shifted, leaning slowly closer. He bit his lip, eyes darting down to Edward's mouth. They stood only inches apart. He tilted his face up, looking back up into Edward's eyes.

"Ed... may I kiss you?" Oswald softly requested, like he thought he might still be denied.

In answer, Edward closed the short distance between them, heart beating a jittery rhythm because it felt like their first shared kiss. He lost himself to the sensation, letting all thought fade away. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not his missing memories, not their past, not even their concerns for the future. It was just him and Oswald and the tenderness of the moment.

Oswald's arms wound up around his shoulders; his own wrapped around Oswald's waist. Feather light brushes of fingers tickled at the knape of his neck, making the corners of Edward's mouth quirk up into a smile even as he remained pressed against Oswald. He retaliated by lightly running his own hands up and down Oswald's sides. The lighthearted tittering Oswald tried to unsuccessfully stifle through the kiss warmed Edward's heart. He'd never heard such a sound from the man and craved to hear him make more. Edward pulled away just long enough to give a quick peck to each of Oswald's cheeks and another at his neck. He was rewarded by unrestrained laughter from his husband. He'd learned something new about Oswald. The man was ticklish and he was going to have a hell of a lot of fun exploiting that. He wondered what other fun things he would learn.

Chapter Text

Oswald managed to stop laughing, catching his breath and pulling Edward back into his kiss. He swatted Edward's hands away when he tried to tickle him again. Edward snickered mischievously but behaved himself after that. As much as he enjoyed messing with Oswald, he wouldn't risk having him pull away too soon.

Unfortunately for the both of them, they weren't exactly alone. There was a whoosh overhead that Edward tried to ignore. Then another whoosh, even closer, right above his head. The thing kept swooping at him until they finally broke apart. Oswald held out his arm and it swooped down one last time, landing gracelessly on him.

It looked to be nothing more than an ordinary crow. An odd choice for an aviary filled with much more exotic birds, although Edward would admit to it being a particularly handsome specimen with purple and green highlights to the glossy black of its feathers. The creature sat perched on Oswald's arm as though it owned him, preening wing feathers and (Edward was certain he wasn't imagining it) pointedly ignoring Edward's presence. Oswald stroked a finger across the bird's head and down its back. The crow fluffed up happily. If it was possible for a bird to look smug, this one certainly did.

Edward observed the interaction with a coolly neutral expression. Inwardly, he sulked. Not that he would ever admit it, but the bird's presence and watching Oswald fawn over it was more than a little agitating. It didn't help either that their kiss had been interrupted by the little rat with wings.

"Ed?"

"Hm?" Edward replied back shortly.

"Are you moping?"

Blast Oswald's ability to read him!

Edward scoffed, "I'm not moping. I-I just... We shouldn't let the food go to waste."

"Quite right." Oswald agreed, mirthful smile playing across his lips as he took a seat.

Edward took his seat as well and began picking at a pistachio muffin. The crow remained perched on Oswald's arm, giving a loud caw as it looked over the picnic treats. Oswald chuckled at the bird and picked out some ham from his sandwich. Edward watched indignantly as he started to hand feed it. The bird nibbled enthusiastically at the meat and Edward turned his attention away and down to the crumbly mess of muffin beneath his fingers. He was definitely not moping. A light tap to his forehead brought his gaze back up.

"Open up, Eddie." Oswald said, holding up a green olive to his lips.

Red in the face, Edward did his best not to choke. He opened his mouth as requested and Oswald fed him the olive with a self satisfied smirk. Whatever lingering reservations he had towards expressing his feelings for Ed seemed to have evaporated entirely. Oswald was no longer hesitant in his flirtation towards his husband, confident in the knowledge that Ed returned his affections.

"You know," Oswald said as Edward chewed, "You two usually get along famously."

Edward eyed the bird doubtfully and said, "I find that hard to believe."

"It's true!" Oswald insisted, "She's only pouting cause you were away for so long. Gertrud," (of course the bird was named for his mother. Was there anything Oswald didn't name after her?) "always pouts when she misses us. Try feeding her and she'll warm up immediately."

Skeptically, Edward reached for a sandwich, picked out some meat and offered it to the crow. She pecked at it dubiously at first then began gobbling eagerly. Edward lured her across the table with the food and held out his arm for her to perch on. She hopped up without hesitation to remain there for the rest of their picnic (even once the meat was gone).

"See?" Oswald puffed up, "I was right!"

"So you were." Edward smiled begrudgingly as he pet the crow.

"I wasn't expecting her back so soon." Oswald reflected, taking up a strawberry muffin for himself.

"Back?" Edward questioned, "Back from where?"

"I sent her out with the others. I keep a whole murder of crows. My eyes around the city." Oswald explained between bites, "Each one is specially trained to spy and report back to me. With a single photo, they can memorize any target I show them, follow the target, and come back to me when certain criteria has been met. I have one of my crows following each of the memory loss victims. Gertrud here was spying on Barbara Kean and was to report back to me if she saw Hugo Strange after planting a tracking device."

Edward nodded along to this information and then frowned.

"Did you have one following me?"

"No." Oswald looked him in the eye as he said it, "I wanted to, but you made it very clear you wanted your space. And I respected that."

Edward nodded. Only a short time ago, he wouldn't have believed Oswald, but he did now. His perception had changed so rapidly, incredibly, to reach this point. Edward wanted to trust him, and at least in this moment, he really felt confident that he could.

"Besides, I knew if anything happened to you, I'd hear from Query and Echo. I trust them to look after you. At least those two have common sense." Oswald teased.

Edward wanted to argue with that, but he'd already been rescued by them multiple times. Instead, he just shrugged it off. He was trying for nonchalance but couldn't quite pull it off. Truth be told, Oswald's joke struck a nerve. After all, Edward was still a little frustrated by his current circumstances, and that (in his opinion) it was the gaps in his memory that led to his constant need for rescuing. It wasn't his fault, and yet he still felt he had to fix it or make up for it somehow.

Oswald seemed to pick up on his change in mood and apologized, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that considering..."

"It's fine, Oswald." Edward sighed, looking down to his lap, "What you said is true. I've been a burden on everyone lately. Ever since I lost my memory, I've felt in the dark and like I can't get my bearings. I'm just tired of feeling so out of control."

Oswald stood from his seat, coming around the table to stand before Edward. He gently prodded Gertrud from Edward's arm so he could take his hand and gave a gentle squeeze. Oswald waited until Edward looked back up to speak.

"Ed, I didn't mean it like that at all. Believe me, you are no more a burden than the rest of us. You have no idea how much I always rely on you. It's okay for you to rely on me and your friends this time. You and I are going to solve this the way we always do: together."

"Thank you. I think I needed to hear that." Edward croaked.

"Anytime." Oswald replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Edward's forehead before pulling away again, "So, think you're ready to track down Strange?"

"Yeah. We'll make him regret ever crossing us."

"That's the spirit! We'll leave after lunch." Oswald said returning to his seat.

Their picnic continued and they somehow managed to finish off every single sandwich. It might have been that they had a little help from Gertrud. Oswald couldn't seem to stop giving her scraps. With sandwiches gone, they next dug into the cake. Not bothering to cut out their own slices, they scooted their chairs closer together so they could more easily share off the same plate. Edward made sure to save most of the dessert for Oswald, even insisting he take the last bite. The lemon cake was good, but watching Oswald enjoy it and make those adorable "mmmmh" sounds was even better. Afterwards, they leaned back in their seats with full bellies and contented sighs. Edward wondered if this was what it was always like for them. He almost hated to spoil the moment with tracking down Strange.

Luckily for him, someone else spoiled the moment for them (again). This time, it was the appearance of a housekeeper instead of a bird. The young woman twirled her hair absentmindedly as she walked in. Edward was so used to seeing Olga in the manor that it was strange seeing someone new fill the role.

"I think someone's at the door. Maybe."

"You think?" Oswald spoke sarcastically, "Well, did you check to see who it was?"

"No?" The woman blinked, "Should I?"

With patience wearing thin, Oswald let out a galled exhale and responded, "Olivia, we've talked about this. If someone is at the door, it is your job to see who it is and then come tell me. You know what? Nevermind, I'll go myself."

The housekeeper shrugged and left. She seemed completely oblivious to Oswald's annoyance with her. Edward wondered vaguely how much longer someone that dense would last. Oswald's temper was bound to snap at some point. If it didn't, Ed might just take care of the idiotic servant himself.

"Expecting company?" Edward asked.

"No, we'd better be prepared." Oswald replied, already reaching beneath the table and pulling out a gun.

Edward felt around under his side and found another. He took it out and nodded at Oswald to show he was ready. Then they made their way out of the aviary and back to front entry, ready to greet the uninvited guest.

Chapter Text

When Edward and Oswald entered the foyer, they could hear harsh knocks still sounding at the front door. Raps against wood, heavy handed and angry, as a chorus of muttered curses carried through from the other side. They certainly didn't sound too friendly.

"Open up! I know you're in there!" A woman shouted.

The voice was instantly familiar, but Ed couldn't match a face or name to it. He shot a confused look to Oswald who seemed to recognize their mystery visitor right away. Oswald's posture relaxed and he rolled his eyes before opening the door. There stood Dr. Leslie Thompkins, furious and out of breath.

"Lee, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Oswald greeted sarcastically.

"Cut the crap, Penguin. I know it was you." Lee accused, stepping inside uninvited to jab a finger at Oswald, "I know you've been spying on us, so where are they?"

Enunciating each word as though he were speaking to someone with the brain cells of a sponge (i.e. none), Oswald answered, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You think I wouldn't recognize your birds, Oswald? It gets kind of obvious after the third time my husband comes home with bird shit on his head!" Lee huffed, "And now Jim and Barbara are both missing! It had to be you!"

Edward and Oswald exchanged surprised looks and burst out laughing.

"Goodness! Did you train them to do that too?" Edward questioned through fits of laughter.

Oswald giggled, shaking his head, "No no, Elijah learned that on his own."

"Glad you find it so funny." Lee interrupted, clearly not amused, "Now tell me where my husband is before I lose it!"

A gun aimed in Ed's direction quickly put an end to their merriment. Oswald stepped protectively between them, all trace of humor gone as he began placating Lee.

"Come now, Lee. We both know you're not shooting anyone." Oswald grinned nervously, "You're a law abiding citizen and too good a person. Wouldn't want to tarnish your reputation over this, would you?"

"Wouldn't be so sure about that, Oswald. You and I both know what I'm capable of when I have to be." Lee answered darkly.

Oswald gulped.

"Just hear us out. I can assure you, things aren't as they seem."

Lee lowered her weapon a fraction.

"I'm listening, so spill."

Oswald did. He explained what happened to Edward, and Ed chimed in occasionally to fill in information from his point of view. After a few short words, Oswald had managed to convince her. She tucked the gun away and sighed.

"You really don't know where he is?"

"No, but we may have a way to find out." Oswald said, "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to continue a more civilized conversation somewhere comfortable. Preferably not standing around a drafty, open doorway. Perhaps the sitting room?"

Lee nodded assent and followed behind them as Oswald led the way. Once everyone was comfortably seated, he called for the housekeeper. The girl appeared shortly and Oswald instructed her to bring the three of them tea. With a bob of her head, Olivia scurried away again to prepare it. While they waited, Oswald launched into the full explanation without further ado.

"I assure you I had my birds following Jim and Barbara for a higher purpose than using his head as a latrine." Oswald sniggered before composing himself.

Somewhat still agitated, Lee shifted in her seat and gestured, "Do tell."

Oswald gave much the same explanation he had given to Edward. He told her a bit about what his birds were trained to do, although (Edward noted) carefully leaving out the additional information they shared with one another about the other victims and the Ventriloquist. Lee probably knew something about some of the victims anyway, but it was likely Oswald didn't want to lay all his cards on the table just yet. The one useful piece of information he allowed to slip was their suspicions that it was Strange behind the whole thing and that Gertrud had already planted a tracking device on him before Jim's and Barbara's disappearances. Olivia appeared to hand out everyone's tea while Oswald finished his explanation about the tracking devices.

"So what are we waiting for? If you have their location, we shouldn't waste anymore time."

"Well, I was just about to check, before I was so rudely interrupted." Oswald reminded Lee, "However, seeing as Jim is an old friend, I'd be happy to share my information. I expect the both of you will be so grateful that you'll find some way to return the favor..."

"What is it that you want, Oswald?" Lee hissed through gritted teeth.

"You already know what I want, seeing as my request never changes."

"Another certificate for Ed? Really? We can't just keep deeming him sane when he's going to end up back in Arkham in a few months. Jim will never agree to it."

"That's a shame." Oswald sighed looking anything but remorseful, "I truly would have liked to help you, Lee. But my hands are tied. I just can't help you find the man who will track down my husband and lock him away again. You understand."

Oswald let his words sit, waiting. They all knew he had the upper hand. Edward couldn't help the triumphant smirk spreading across his face while watching Lee desperately try to find an alternative and come up empty. Oswald would have his way and Edward couldn't be more delighted.

Lee groaned, "Fine! I'll figure it out. Even if I have to go around Jim to do it. Just... please."

"Fantastic. I knew you'd see reason." Oswald smiled.

With that, he pulled out the device that would show the location of the trackers. The screen lit up showing a map of Gotham. Oswald peered down at it and frowned.

"Well, that's odd."

"What is?" Lee and Ed asked in unison.

"Well, the thing is," Oswald told them as he continued studying the map on screen, "I currently have two trackers in play. One that Gertrud planted on Strange and the other on her partner Elijah."

"The crow following Jim?"

"Precisely." Oswald nodded, "The weird thing is that they're in two separate locations. Elijah was instructed to stay with Jim."

"That means Strange doesn't have Jim." Lee realized.

"Not currently, no."

"He probably has a partner helping him." Ed suggested without giving away details about Penn.

It would seem the Bat didn't catch him after all. Not a good sign. The man and his dummy had proven themselves to be a true threat and Edward didn't like the idea of him still on the loose.

"Well, I can give you Jim's current location, but I'm afraid this is where we part ways." Oswald said dispassionately, "Ed and I will be going after Strange. Best of luck to you, Lee."

"So that's it then?" Lee accused.

"Yup." Oswald didn't even pretend to consider it, "Jim isn't exactly high on my list of priorities."

Edward cleared his throat and interjected, "While I agree Jim isn't top priority, I think we should reconsider."

Oswald whirled on Edward, eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline, "What?! You cannot possibly be saying that we should just give up on Strange to save James Gordon of all people!"

"No, that isn't what I'm saying, Oswald." Edward replied with a placating pat to his shoulder, "What I am saying, is that we need to go after both. We can't risk Strange's accomplice causing more trouble. This may be our best chance to catch both."

Oswald shrugged his hand off, shaking his head emphatically.

"No, Eddie. The only way to accomplish that is to split up and we're not doing that. Besides, cut the head off a snake and the rest dies with it. Getting Strange will be enough to put an end to all this."

"And what if it isn't?" Edward challenged, "Whoever has Jim is likely plenty dangerous on their own and we can't know what they might do if they get away."

Oswald didn't answer, pursing his lips. He knew Ed was referring to the Ventriloquist and he knew just as much as Ed how dangerous he was. Edward could see the struggle playing out on his face. Oswald looked enraged by it. Lee sat back, silently watching, completely forgotten by the two men.

Edward continued on, "If he could escape the Bat, then the threat won't end with Strange. You know I'm right."

"I don't like it." Oswald muttered.

"I don't like it either." Edward soothed, rubbing Oswald's arm, "But it's our best option. Besides, I'm not going alone. I'll have Query and Echo for backup."

Oswald sighed, "And I'll have Martin and my men accompany me to go after Strange. I still don't like it."

Edward cupped Oswald's face in his hands and gently tilted up so they were meeting each other's eyes. He wanted Oswald to understand. This was for the best and it wasn't goodbye. His plan was the path to victory and they would triumph.

"Oswald, even apart, nothing can stop us when we're working together. We'll get through this." Edward whispered reassurance, "I promise you, I'll be back before you know it. You'll wish you could be rid of me."

"I doubt that." Oswald told him, turning his face to press a kiss into Ed's palm.

"Good grief, get a room." Lee interrupted.

"Aww, jealous?" Oswald snarked, "Don't worry. With Edward's help, your inferior husband will be back in your arms before you know it."

Lee rolled her eyes.

Oswald turned his attention back to Ed.

"And Ed... I'm counting on you. Come back to me safely."

"Of course." Ed told him, "We'll show them. They messed with the wrong family."

There was nothing more to say. A quick peck, a squeeze of hands, and a backwards glance. Ed left with Lee, physically. However, his heart stayed behind. There was comfort to be had, knowing now where home was. This time, he wouldn't forget.

Chapter Text

Red. Black. Black. White. Grey. Edward sighed. He wasn't sure what he expected. Of course there weren't many people in Gotham with good enough taste to drive vehicles in his signature color. He'd been trying for the past ten minutes to count green cars passing by in hopes of distracting his mind from the uncomfortable silence that encompassed their own vehicle. Even without the distraction, he kept his gaze carefully fixed out the passenger side window. It beat the alternative of potentially meeting Lee's eyes by mistake. Her disdain for him radiated out, sticky and cold. It was enough almost to make him squirm in his seat. Instead Edward sucked his cheek awkwardly, scratched the back of his ear, and quietly wished Query and Echo would hurry out.

What could possibly be taking them so long?

"I'm sure they'll be out any minute now." Edward mumbled, "Yeah... any minute."

Lee drummed her nails on the steering wheel. After leaving the manor, she hadn't spoken a word to Edward. He didn't really blame her considering what he remembered of their history. Killing Kristen, framing Jim. These seemed reasonable grounds for why she shouldn't want anything to do with him now. He'd never felt sorry about what he'd done to Jim, but he did maybe feel a little sorry for how his actions impacted Lee. She was always friendly to him before. And then there were all the things he didn't remember. Things pieced together from the stories everyone else told him. Circumstances had them working together now, but it didn't change their past. Somehow, even though he understood that, it didn't make Edward feel any less awkward about it. He sighed again.

Lee let out an agitated sigh of her own.

Then, as though she couldn't hold it back anymore, she said, "I was just so certain it was you and Oswald behind this."

"Disappointed?"

"Honestly?" Lee asked, turning to look at him, "Yeah. At least if it were you, I'd know Jim was okay instead of... I don't know. Dead in a ditch somewhere."

Edward finally met Lee's eyes. He hadn't expected that answer.

"How could you be so sure?" He questioned, "You don't seem to have very high opinions of us."

"You're right. I don't." Lee agreed, "But... if you two were lying, I'd know it."

"We're not that predictable." Edward huffed.

"I didn't mean it like that." Lee smirked, "It's just... we've been at each other's throats more times than I can count. Yet here we are. You and me, Oswald and Jim, we go back a long way. So I'd know if you were lying."

He scoffed and Lee rolled her eyes.

"Besides, when you two aren't the ones terrorizing the city," she added grudgingly, "you have the uncanny habit of helping save it."

"Do we?" Edward muttered.

It didn't really sound like him. He could care less about this city or the people inhabiting it. It must be Oswald's influence. Whatever criminal activities he conducted, Ed knew Oswald's care for the city was genuine. He may use the citizens as a means to an end (at least in Edward's eyes and most others for that matter), but the place was Oswald's home. Edward could picture only too clearly his husband rising to the occasion to protect it.

"Yeah. And here you are again." Lee shook her head, "I never know what to expect with you, but I appreciate you being on our side this time. You didn't have to come with me to find Jim."

"I had my own reasons. It wasn't to find Jim." Edward mumbled.

"I know. But thanks anyway."

Edward smiled to himself. He couldn't help but to appreciate what Lee was trying to do. It was nice to clear the air between them even a little bit and dispel some of the awkwardness. He could feel himself relax, no longer counting the seconds for his team's arrival.

It wasn't too much longer before Query and Echo came out anyway. They hopped into the backseat, eyeing Lee with raised brows. She offered them a courteous greeting which they returned as they buckled up. They didn't have much time to break the ice as Lee drove. However, Edward explained the circumstances for the unlikely alliance and caught them up on the plan.

It would be mostly improvisational, considering they didn't know exactly what they were getting into. All that was certain was the location and that they didn't have the time to fully scout it out beforehand. Catching their enemies off guard was the only upperhand they truly had. Therefore, it was essential that they carry out their mission at the same time Oswald and his team carried out theirs. As Edward was finishing up his explanation, they pulled into view of their destination.

It was what one comes to expect from the lair of Gotham's latest villain of the week. Whoever they happened to be, every no-name villain seemed to use one of a few same generic locations: Warehouse, condemned apartment building, or run-down factory. No creativity what-so-ever in Edward's opinion. The person behind his memory loss would appear no different. The building was as humdrum as they come. A decrepit multistory of crumbling brick tagged with graffiti. Being located in an industrial zone and clearly abandoned for at least a decade slotted it nicely into the run-down factory category. At least it wasn't a warehouse at the docks. He could feel grateful for the little things.

"So you ready?" Lee asked.

"To find out who had the gall to come against me and my family? Absolutely." Edward swore, "C'mon Echo, Query. Let's go."

"Got it, boss."

They approached the building with caution, weapons drawn and ready for anything. Edward led the way, circling around to the side. No sense going right in the front door. Not if they intended to utilize the element of surprise. Lee fell in close behind Ed, with Query and Echo watching his back at the rear. Edward made mental note of each exit as they passed and anything he could see through the dust covered windows. It wasn't much and there was no sign of Jim nor his captors.

A sharp caw sounded above their heads. Edward looked up in time to cover his head, as a black feathery blur dropped on him. With the beat of its wings, the little blur stabilized itself and landed on Edward's shoulder. A pointed beak tapped lightly at his fingers.

"Looks like Elijah found us." Query giggled.

"Right. Elijah." Edward panted, catching breath from the initial surprise.

He still wasn't quite used to Oswald's pets, although this one had earned a few points for helping lead them here. If the crow was around, then Jim must still be nearby as well. Edward stroked the crow's head thoughtfully. Elijah nuzzled his finger and shuffled in place.

"Care to help us find Jimbo?" Edward hummed, "Hmm? Clever bird."

The crow appeared to nod before launching itself from Ed's shoulder. It flew up, circling above their heads just once before taking a turn around the corner of the building. Taking the hint, Edward took off after it, his allies following close behind. The crow led them around back to a rickety fire escape. Edward took the steps two at time, as Elijah landed at the second landing. It tapped its beak against the glass.

Edward peered in. It was dark, the grimy windows only allowing some of day's light to pierce the gloom. He could see the shadowy, hulking shapes of machinery. Beyond them, Edward could just make out two figures seated side by side. Captives. One of them must be Jim. Judging by their postures, they were likely tied to the chairs they were sitting in, but it was impossible to get the full picture from this distance. Edward turned to relay the information to Lee.

"Any sign of Strange's accomplice?" Lee questioned.

"I couldn't see anyone else."

"We could reach them. Make our escape before anyone comes back, but... It's too easy, isn't it?" Lee said dejectedly.

"My thoughts exactly." Edward agreed with a grimace, "This is probably a trap."

"I might have an idea." Echo interjected.

"I'm all ears."

Echo cleared her throat, "Well, way I see it, it's only a trap if we don't know what we're walking into, yeah?"

"True, but we don't know what we're walking into." Lee pointed out.

"What if I told you there was a way to find out?" Echo wriggled her eyebrows, "Hey, Elijah? Anyone else here?"

"CAW." Elijah said.

"What does that mean?"

"It means yes."

"You speak bird?" Lee chuckled.

"Course not." Echo snorted.

"Oswald trained him for this. One caw for yes, two for no." Query explained, "He can also count. Elijah, how many?"

"CAW. CAW. CAW. CAW..." the bird seemed to hesitate before a final, "CAW."

"Five?" Edward clarified.

"CAW." Yes.

Chapter Text

Elijah truly was a clever bird. Oswald had done well training him. Using a series of yes/no questions and one about direction (Can you point out where?), the Riddler was able to get a fairly complete picture of what they were dealing with.

There were only two hostages being held in the factory, the ones Ed had seen through the window. He was able to verify their identities as Jim Gordon and Barbara Kean. As for their adversaries, Elijah identified Arthur Penn along with the dummy, Mr. Scarface. That certainly explained the birds confusion before counting five persons instead of four. The others he was unable to identify, but did confirm that Scarface was the one giving orders. Likely just a bunch of hired muscle. The group of enemies were located a level above the hostages. A quick glance inside showed the position as advantageous. With all the towering machinery housed within the building, the upper levels were open to the ones below and accessible only by open stairs that offered no protection. If they went straight in for the hostages, they could be sniped in seconds.

"Good work." Edward praised, lightly tapping Elijah's beak with affection.

In response, the crow proudly preened.

"I have one more job for you." Edward said, "Fly high and stay close. If anyone leaves or comes near this building, can you alert me of it?"

"CAW." Yes.

"Good bird."

With that the crow took to the skies once more, circling overhead as Edward instructed.

"So... what's the plan?" Lee questioned.

"Hold on... give me a second." Edward replied as the plan took shape in his mind.

Edward wasn't sure how, but it seemed they were expected. Based on the information Elijah provided (hostages out in the open; enemies hidden out of sight), this set up was clearly meant to be an ambush. Thanks to the crow, it wouldn't be, but it might still benefit them to play along.

"Query, Echo, I want the two of you in place first. Head up to the level where Penn is hiding, but stay hidden. Lee, you and I will enter at the level of the hostages. Cover me while I free Jim and Barb-"

"Hold on! Why you?" Lee interrupted.

Edward blinked at the unexpected objection and turned to face Lee. She was eyeing him with apprehension and perhaps some deserved distrust. But Edward wasn't hiding any bad intentions. His reasoning was fairly simple.

"As much as it pains me to admit, I've heard you're a better shot than I am."

"He really is a lousy shot." Echo confirmed jovially.

"That's uncalled for." Edward grimaced, "Now that's cleared up, can I get back to explaining the plan?"

The group nodded and Edward continued, "As I was saying, I'll free Jim and Barbara while you cover me. I expect Penn will reveal himself to stop us before I manage to get them free. He'll think he has the upperhand, taking us by surprise and outnumbering us. That's where Echo and Query come in."

"Oh! I see where this is going!" Query clapped.

Edward smiled at her, "Exactly. They'll be distracted, focused on Lee and I, and be left completely open to your attack."

"So we take out the goons." Query hummed, "But I'm guessing you'll want Penn alive for questioning?"

"Bingo." Edward agreed, "Right. Let's do this."

"Lead the way." Lee gestured.

Edward did just that. They quietly made their way inside to keep up the appearance of stealth, even while knowing they were being watched. When they reached Jim and Barbara, the two hostages began making muffled noise. Edward opted to leave the gags in their mouths for now. He already knew what they were trying to say and couldn't be bothered to waste the time. Instead, he stooped down and began untying the bonds around Barbara's right wrist. No sooner had he gotten the first knot undone than Penn and Scarface made their appearance.

"Ed!" Lee shouted just as the first shot rang out.

Then all hell broke loose. Gunshots all around. Edward fought the instinct to duck or run for cover, but couldn't stop the occasional flinch when something sounded close. He freed Barbara's right wrist. Then scuffed to the other side. Edward glanced up. His brief look showed men firing in Echo and Query's direction. Four of them including Penn. Like a warning bell sounding, one of the other faces registered recognition. Who? Where?

Edward returned to his task. No time to think. Focus was paramount. His only task now was to free the hostages. Free the hostages. A bullet ricocheted off the steel leg of the chair before him. Too close. Edward's hands fumbled with the rope at Barbara's ankles. He struggled. The stubborn knots remained as his racing pulse counted time.

A pained scream pierced through the noise.

Edward's hands froze. His eyes zeroed in on the source of the scream. He only caught a glimpse of Echo and Query's retreating figures, but it was enough to see Query's limp body and Echo dragging her away. They weren't being followed. Instead the attack was now aimed at him and Lee. Somehow there were now more men than they'd accounted for. And they were all rushing towards them. Where did they come from? It didn't matter now. The mission had failed.

"Time to go!" Edward yelled, tugging Barbara after him.

"No!" Lee screamed.

Ed lurched forward to grab her too, momentarily worried she might fight back. He would've just left her behind. But to her credit, Lee only hesitated a second before running with them, angry tears streaming, teeth clenched.

They flew out the way they came. Gunfire chased. Pounding footsteps were closing in. Edward leaped down the fire escape several steps at a time, pulling Barbara all the way. Lee kept up close behind. He didn't see any sign of Query nor Echo.

A familar caw sounded overhead just as his feet touched ground. It sounded to the side. Edward swerved to follow it. He rounded the corner and made a mad dash for the car. But Barbara stumbled, taking him down with her. Edward braced himself for impact. This was it. His luck ran out. Sprawled on the ground, he knew it was only a matter of time before their enemies were upon him. The crow called again, Lee dived down next, and rapid gunfire errupted...

Before them, not behind. Edward craned his neck to see. As he did, euphoric, astonished laughter burst from his lungs.

He came for me!

Here was Oswald, wielding a machinegun, screaming fury, and mowing down any pursuers stupid enough to come into his line of sight. Too beautiful for words. He was absolutely breathtaking, and Edward couldn't take his eyes off of him.

Chapter Text

It lasted only a matter of seconds. Oswald mowed down their enemies and Edward watched with gleeful adoration. It thrilled him that his husband was somehow inexplicably there. Even more so that he came on his behalf, anticipating Edward's need of him without question nor request. Just there when he needed him most. Just as he'd always been... And it felt like he was seeing Oswald in a new light. The love was there already, the desire to trust too. But this, here and now, somehow allowed that final piece to click into place.

Logically, he guessed he'd probably had a similar experience before. The numerous times Oswald had come to his rescue in the past had now been extensively described to Edward. It stood to reason that what he felt now, he likely felt one of those times too. So he'd known it in his head long before he really accepted it as truth. This was different though. Only now did Edward really believe it. Feel it as more than a thought. Seeing Oswald here for him... he believed in Oswald. He trusted him to be there, to have his back and take his side. To simply be someone he could rely on.

It was so different from what he'd felt that same morning when Oswald asked him if he could trust him. Edward thought building trust would take time. He'd expected to feel that way for a while. It made him a little nervous how quickly he'd changed his mind. To find that he did trust Oswald now. But so much had changed since then, even if it was so little time ago. Edward felt that Oswald had really proven himself. It was even in all the little ways he'd taken care of Edward before. Swooping in now to save him like this was really just the cherry on top.

As the last sounds of gunfire faded away, Edward picked himself up from the ground. He swiped at his clothes, shaking out dust, before directing an appreciative smile Oswald's way. The welling gratitude he felt at the other man's presence was only slightly undercut by his curiosity about what changed Oswald's mind. How did he know that he would be needed? Why didn't he go after Strange as planned? Maybe the answer was obvious. Oswald grinned at him in return, rushing to Ed and surrounding him in a tight hug.

"Are you alright?" Oswald questioned anxiously, "You aren't hurt, Eddie?"

"I'm fine." Edward reassured, watching Oswald visibly relax.

After a lingering moment, they broke apart to survey their surroundings. Nearby, Barbara and Lee had gotten to their feet as well. A ways beyond them lay the bodies of the men Oswald had just gunned down. Edward noted that Penn and Scarface were not among them. However, there was the familiar face Edward recognized during the chaos in the factory. Why did he seem familiar? He would look into it soon enough, but first...

"Oswald, did you see Query or Echo?"

Oswald shook his head, "No, just you, Lee, and... is that Barbara?"

"The one and only." Barbara confirmed, turning to face them, "Do I know you?"

"Long story." Lee told the confused Barbara with a pat to her shoulder.

Edward ignored them, glancing back and searching for a sign of his friends. He worried at his lower lip, trying not to think the worst. It was too early to jump to conclusions, but he worried they'd been captured.

And Query was injured...

What if she...

But then they were there.

Edward let out breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. As the two had finally come limping into view around the corner of the factory, Edward was able to get a better look at them. He frowned feeling incredibly concerned. What he saw was Query leaned heavily against Echo. Echo was propping her up and half dragged her along as she walked. Each step looked like agony with Query's face screwed up in pain. At least they weren't captured. The pair paused once they saw the rest of their group coming to aid them.

"Uh... is she going to be okay?" Barbara asked sounding skeptical.

"Actually, Query's hurt pretty bad." Echo snapped, "And stupid questions aren't going to help."

"Touchy."

Edward scowled at Barbara. Lee rolled her eyes and nudged them out of the way. Doc Thompkins to the rescue. He shouldn't be surprised. Although, he had experience playing doctor to the wounded as well, Edward allowed it this time.

"Here. Let me take a look?" Lee requested gently.

Query removed her hands from the wound to allow her access. Lee delicately peeled back the pants fabric around the injury to better inspect the damage. Edward held his breath again, anxiety clawing at his insides. Echo looked to be feeling much the same as he did. Poor Query looked weak.

"You're lucky. It appears to have gone right through. I'm sure it's painful, but it shouldn't be fatal." Lee informed them all.

They released a collective sigh. Edward felt the tension drain from him then, leaving him spent. He wanted nothing more than to take his friends and Oswald back to the safety of his hideout. Maybe just this once he could allow Lee in as well to heal Query. And then he could retire with Oswald to his own personal room and fall asleep in his arms. He could use the sleep.

It would have to wait for now. There was still a threat hanging over their heads and the mystery nagging at Edward's mind. They still didn't know why any of this was happening. What was the endgame? Edward knew Penn wanted him dead. Strange probably just wanted test subjects for his experiments. But what brought the two working together? And how were their victims chosen? If that was all it was, it didn't make any sense.

As Lee helped Echo get Query back to the car, Edward turned his attention back to the familiar dead man. Who said dead men tell no tales? Experience in forensics had taught him otherwise. The corpse lay several feet behind him just awaiting his investigation. Edward walked over to it and crouched down to get a better look. His appearance wasn't particularly noteworthy. He didn't stand out from the rest of the thugs that had attacked them other than Ed's memory of having seen him before.

Edward studied the face focused on recalling the man's identity. With a hair line only somewhat receded with age and slight crows feet about his eyes, Edward placed the man's age somewhere in his late forties or early fifties. He had an olive complexion, dark brown eyes, and heavy brows. His hair was neatly trimmed and his face was clean shaven. After a moment another image came to mind. It was the same face but about a decade younger. Edward's memory told him he'd never met the man in person. He was only familiar with the face from a file he'd seen during his time at the GCPD. He knew the man's name was Lorenzo Moretti, but that part wasn't so important. The interesting bit was who he was affiliated with. The man had once worked under Carmine Falcone.

"Eddie?" Oswald was at his side, hand on his shoulder, "Did you find something?"

"Maybe..." Edward trailed, "Does this man look familiar to you?"

Oswald glanced down.

"Possibly?" He shrugged, "I don't usually keep track of the underlings."

If Oswald didn't recognize him, he probably wasn't relevant. Edward turned his attention to the man's pockets, rifling through them for more clues. He pulled out some crumpled receipts that contained nothing of interest, a used tissue (gross), and finally the man's wallet. It contained the usual items: cash, credit, and a license. And then there was something a little more interesting.

"Hello~" Edward sing-songed, "What have we here?"

"What is it?" Oswald asked.

"Looks like a very obviously fake Arkham identification badge." Edward chuckled, "Seriously who would believe this guy was a doctor?"

"Well, it is Arkham." Oswald shrugged.

He had a point.

"Fake name. Dr. Mario Calvi. Mean anything to you?"

"He's Italian?" Oswald guessed.

Not helpful. Edward sighed frustration. He felt like he was missing something important. He just wasn't sure what it was, but he felt certain he would if only he could retrieve his lost memories. He grit his teeth and focused hard. There must be something he could remember.

It wasn't what he hoped, but something more did come to the surface. He vaguely remembered something of his time in Arkham before his rescue. He remembered... Strange was there. And Lorenzo...

"Eddie? Is something wrong?"

"I think..." Edward shook his head, "I remember this man being there with Strange. When they messed with my head in Arkham."

"You remember?!" Oswald questioned urgently.

"It's fuzzy. It's not much but... I remember him taking me back to my cell after Strange said he was through with me."

"So... you don't recall anything that happened before what Strange did to you?" Oswald said morosely.

"I'm sorry, Oswald." Edward answered regretfully. He wished he could say different. Oswald took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

"It's okay. Do you remember anything else?"

"The others were there too. Jim, Barbara, Zsasz, all of them. And..." Edward swallowed hard and said, "You're not going to like this."

"What?" Oswald lifted an eyebrow.

"Strange... I remember hearing him say the procedure was... was permanent." Edward's heart was sinking and he choked, "There's no way to reverse it. I won't get my memories back, Oswald."

Chapter Text

After Edward told him, they didn't talk about it. What was there to say? It was as it was. And there didn't seem to be a damn thing they could do about it. Why dwell on it? The only thing they could do now was make sure the people responsible paid for it. Edward and Oswald returned to the rest of their allies to figure out their next move.

It turned out their next move wasn't all that much. Everyone was completely exhausted, themselves included, and it was decided they would head back to Van Dahl manor to regroup. Oswald managed to convince Lee to come along with them too instead of pursuing the fool's errand of trying to rescue Jim alone. Penn and Scarface were both long gone by then, and instead of following them Elijah had made sure Oswald made it to them in time. As a result, they'd lost their only way to track Penn. They would just have to find another way. This of course meant bringing Barbara along as well.

The idea thrilled neither Edward nor Oswald, but needs must. Bringing Lee and Barbara along was the right move. Their goals aligned with Edward and Oswald's and Barbara could have valuable information. The team up could only be mutually beneficial at this point.

Although Edward had liked the idea of returning to his secret base (less chance of any surprise visits there), Oswald insisted on returning to his father's house. That's where he'd already planned to meet Martin. As it turned out, Oswald had not abandoned the idea of capturing Strange when he decided to come after Edward. He found a way to ensure Ed was safe, but he'd also sent Martin to lead a team of his best men after Strange. His best included Victor Zsasz if only because the man owed him a favor. And Oswald was grateful for that. Victor was one of the few people he would entrust his son too despite their complex history.

"Although Martin is quite capable on his own." Oswald proudly told Edward.

He spent most of the ride back to the manor describing Martin's individual ventures. From the sound of it, Edward had to agree. Martin seemed to have grown into quite the enterprising young man. He bore Oswald's business savy and Edward's penchant for invention. With both of those traits, it was little surprise to hear he had a successful business of his own, dealing on the black market products of his own creation.

It didn't escape Edward's notice that the chat was kept purposely light. Or that Oswald seemed carefully focused on Martin. Like he was trying to avoid thinking of something else. The same something else that Edward couldn't stop thinking about. As he listened, Edward kept waiting for some piece of information to register recognition. Surely something would come back to him. As much as he enjoyed hearing about their son, Edward couldn't help feeling bitterness that he was unable to remember it himself. He did his best to keep those feelings to himself though. He wouldn't spoil Oswald's attempt at distraction. They didn't both need to suffer something that couldn't be changed. Not more than he already had.

When they arrived, Martin was already waiting at the entrance to greet them. He ushered them all inside and led the way to the sitting room. Echo and Lee helped Query to the sofa to lay down while Oswald called Olivia to fetch the first aid kit. Lee busied herself with untying the scrap cloth that had served as temporary bandages with an anxious Echo hovering nearby. Everyone else took the remaining seats and turned to Martin to learn what happened with Strange.

"So?" Oswald prompted, "Tell us what happened."

"Good news or bad news?" Martin signed.

"What's he saying?" Barbara interrupted.

She wasn't the only one who looked confused. Lee did as well but had better manners than to say it so bluntly. Oswald cast an irritable look their way but translated for them anyway.

"He asked if we want good news or bad news. Not as well as hoped then." Oswald sighed, "Let's do good news first."

"It's not as bad as you think." Martin smirked triumphantly, "We got him!"

"He has Strange!" Oswald cheered, "Bravo my boy! I knew I could count on you."

"Excellent work, Martin!" Edward praised.

"So what's the bad news?" Lee asked.

What indeed? If they had Strange that should be all that mattered. Edward watched Martin's smirk slip from his face.

"He doesn't know anything." Martin's lip curled in disgust as he signed it.

"How is that possible?!" Oswald rose to his feet, "Isn't he the fucking mastermind behind this?"

Martin took a breath and scrunched his eyes, "Let me rephrase. He doesn't remember anything."

Edward couldn't believe it. Everyone went still, stunned silence showing they were thinking the same thing. How could that be possible?

"He... he doesn't remember anything." Oswald repeated after a moment then falling back in his seat.

"So we won't get any information from him." Lee's voice became a soft, desolate whisper, "He can't help us track Jim."

Barbara was next to her. She took one of Lee's hands in her own to hold. It was all it took for Lee to start crying.

"Hey, c'mon. We'll find a way to save Jim." Barbara soothed, "At least we have one less enemy now."

But that wasn't right.

"No." Edward grit his teeth, "Don't you see? All of you, you're missing the most critical part of this discovery."

All eyes turned towards him at those words. They still didn't get it. Even though it should be the most obvious problem with this entire scenario.

"How did he lose his memory?" Edward said slowly.

Finally he saw it dawning on them all.

"That's right." Edward continued, "We all assumed that Strange was the one to cause the memory loss. I thought he performed some sort of surgery on my brain and that's why I forgot, but a man can't perform surgery on himself."

"So who made Strange forget?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Edward muttered bitterly.

It'd been nagging at him all this time. Not understanding the motivation behind it all. Wondering what brought Strange and Penn working together. The feeling that he was missing something. Now he felt he'd been asking the wrong questions this entire time. The better question was: What if neither one was the mastermind behind this operation?

"You don't think Penn..." Echo started.

"Not likely." Edward reasoned, "Oswald would know his abilities better though."

Oswald shook his head, "No. Penn isn't capable of something like that."

Oswald's input supported Edward's hypothesis. It all made sense now. Their had to be a third person pulling the strings. Whoever it was had kept to the shadows and let the other two do their dirty work for them. They hid their identity intentionally and when it seemed Strange would be captured they made him forget to keep their secret. But who could it be? And why?

Edward was sick of not knowing. For every move they made forward, it only seemed to lead to more questions. It felt hopeless. He wasn't alone with this feeling. Looking around at the others, Edward could see his own frustrations reflected in their faces. He wished there were something he could say, some plan he could propose. There just wasn't. He had no idea where to go from here.

"Well, I think that's enough for tonight." Oswald said at last, "I think I speak for everyone when I say I'm too tired to think. For now, let's eat and then get some sleep. We can discuss strategy in the morning."

Chapter Text

Did you read the notes first? Okay then, proceed :)

A quick supper was made and held in the sitting room, that Query needn't be moved for the time being. Ordinarily, Oswald wouldn't lift a finger, allowing his housekeeper to prepare everything. That's what he paid her for after all. However, it was getting late and if they wanted to eat within the hour she would need help. Oswald himself went to the kitchen to assist Olivia and Edward followed to help as well. Oswald delegated Olivia to figuring out the side dishes while he and Edward made sandwiches. Together, they made quick work of putting together the simple meal and carrying plates out to their guests. The food was devoured quickly and quietly. Everyone seemed to be brooding on their own thoughts leaving little room for conversation. Once the food was gone, Oswald, Edward, and Olivia cleared away the dishes and returned to the sitting room.

"God, I'm exhausted." Oswald muttered, "Olivia! Please, show our guests to a bedroom."

"Do you think they'll fit?" Olivia questioned skeptically.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You know, like, will they all fit in the bed?" She said with absolute seriousness, "I don't believe any of the rooms have a bed big enough."

Oswald's face turned an interesting shade of red and his fingers twitched as though readying to strangle Olivia. Barbara giggled. Everyone else was too tired to find humor in the poor girl's confusion.

Edward took it upon himself to clear up the misunderstanding, "Oswald means for you to take us to a bedroom each. One bedroom per person."

"Oh! Of course." Olivia lightly smacked her forehead with her palm, "Right this way everyone!"

As everyone else filtered out of the room, Oswald quietly thanked Edward.

"No problem." Edward replied.

"As irritating as she may be, I'd rather not have to deal with finding a new housekeeper at the moment." Oswald huffed.

That there were bigger things to worry about was left unspoken but present all the same.

"How'd you find her anyways?" Edward inquired with only mild curiosity. Mostly he just wanted to talk.

"Olga's niece. When Olga retired she requested I give the girl a job. My mistake. I thought she'd be as diligent in her work as Olga was. And quiet."

"And competent?" Edward added with a chuckle, "Not much family resemblance."

"Nope." Oswald agreed.

"Why keep her around?"

"Mostly as a favor to Olga." Oswald admitted, "But her tea also tastes just the way my mother's did. Besides you, she's the only other person who makes it that way."

"Really?" Not yet ready to end their conversation, Edward offered, "I could make some for us. Before bed?"

"Maybe tomorrow." Oswald declined, "It's getting kind of late."

"I guess it is."

There was a moment of pause during which their gazes lingered on each other. Edward waited, wanting. It'd been a long time since he and Oswald had slept under the same roof. He wondered if maybe...

"Well... Goodnight, Ed." Oswald mumbled awkwardly.

His husband turned away from him then, making to leave the room. Edward could see the slump to his shoulders and head bowed low. He wished he could lift the weight from them, but he was probably the cause. It was rare to see him like this. The Oswald in his memory always exuded strength, carrying himself proudly, head held high. This was a side of Oswald that was unfamiliar to Edward. Maybe it should have made him uncomfortable. It was yet another thing that was probably common enough in the life he couldn't remember now. But it didn't make him uncomfortable at all. It made him feel closer. This was the Oswald beneath the Penguin, the one few ever got to see.

It matched the way Edward felt too. He didn't feel like the Riddler in this moment. The Riddler wasn't so vulnerable as he felt right now. His guard was down, the guise of logic without feeling off, revealing a whole but terrifyingly human man. A man that needed human connection as much as any man does, as much as he tried to be someone who didn't. And right now he wanted that connection with Oswald. He wasn't sure how to say it, but he needed to stop Oswald now or he'd lose the nerve.

"Oswald, wait!"

Oswald stopped at the door and turned back.

"Is something wrong?"

"Can..." Edward swallowed nervously. He wanted this.

"Can I come with you?"

Oswald's lips parted. His breath seemed to catch in his throat as his eyes searched Edward's. One blue and one green, both shimmering with unshed tears. Then, ever so subtlely, his chin quivered.

"Oswald?" Edward felt confused, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Oswald gave a strained smile, "It's nothing."

"Doesn't seem like nothing." Edward countered gently.

"Please, Ed. Let it go."

"Oswald, whatever it is, you can tell me."

Oswald hesitated. Edward could see the internal struggle playing out like an open book on Oswald's face. He waited patiently for him to say something.

"I just feel so ugly." Oswald finally gritted out.

"Is that all?" Edward chuckled. He wasn't sure why Oswald would be self conscious so suddenly but attempted to reassure his husband anyway, "I think you're incredibly handsome."

"Thank you, Edward." Oswald mumbled, shaking his head, "But that's not what I mean. It's wrong of me to even think it, so I don't want to tell you."

Edward pursed his lips.

"Is this about my memories?"

Oswald clenched his teeth, but said nothing. So it was. Edward wanted to put his mind at ease. He was worried too, but they'd get through it. He tried to reach for Oswald, but the man shrank back from his touch. He was fully crying now.

"Gah! I'm just- just so angry you could forget me! And about our life together." Oswald furiously rubbed moisture from his eyes, "And now you tell me it's never coming back! It isn't fair!" His voice went from anger to shame, "It's not your fault, but I can't help it."

Edward was truly taken aback. He'd had no idea. Oswald seemed okay, not happy about it to be sure, but okay nonetheless. Edward had been the one dwelling on it all this time while Oswald appeared so level headed. He never suspected this reaction, to find out the turmoil of Oswald's feelings were all this time lurking just beneath the surface.

"I'm sorry, Oswald."

Oswald looked away guilty.

"Please don't. I'm the one who should be sorry. It's not even your fault. I know that. I know it." Oswald took a shuddering breath, "It's just so hard to accept this. And the fear of losing you, it's... I couldn't do it again. I wouldn't survive it."

Edward stepped forward, placing a palm against Oswald's cheek. He stroked gently across it until Oswald met his eyes again.

"Oswald, listen to me. You have nothing to apologize for. I get it. I'm angry too." Edward said, but he needed for him to understand something, "But I won't let it rule me. I loved you then and I love you now. No matter how many times I forget, I will always fall in love with you again. It's an immutable fact. We really are meant for each other."

Oswald gasped, "How can you know that?"

"I've already done it once."

Oswald scoffed.

Edward continued undeterred, "Oswald, you're incredible. The most resilient, cunning, and patient man I've ever known."

"I don't think patient is how most would describe me."

"Maybe not most. But for me, you've always made an exception. You're always patient with me and I see that now. You've given me so much, even if I don't remember everything. How could I not fall for you again?" Edward said it so softly.

"You really think we'll be okay?" Oswald asked.

Edward nodded and kissed his cheek.

Oswald sighed, "Then if you still want to, come with me? I've missed having you there."

"I do." Edward murmured against his cheek, "I'm ready to be with you as we used to be. I want to know what it feels like."

"Okay."

With that, Edward reached down for Oswald's hand, twining their fingers together and leading the way. Oswald's palm was clammy in his grasp, perhaps with nerves. And he could still hear his sniffles beside him from the earlier tears. It wasn't how he'd imagined their first night together again would go. But after everything Oswald had done for him throughout all of this, Edward found contentment being the one to comfort and care for Oswald this time. Somehow, it gave him a sense of equilibrium. Their relationship was balanced between give and take. And even without remembering everything, Edward could be relied upon too. They could still support and compliment each other despite everything. It was reassuring for him. He could only hope Oswald would see it the same way.

Only once they came to the bedroom door did Edward let go of Oswald's hand. He opted instead to place a guiding hand at the small of Oswald's back and steer him through. They made their way to the bed, Oswald sitting at the edge to remove his shoes. Edward simply kicked his off, before moving to undo his tie. He laid it neatly on the nightstand then reached a hand to take Oswald's as well. Oswald handed it to him with a nod of gratitude and Edward placed it next to his. They removed their layers one by one this way, Edward neatly folding each of his own garments then taking Oswald's to do the same. It was strange how familiar it felt, his hands moving automatically through the motions. No fumbling, no hesitation. As though they did it every night. Despite his curiosity, Edward didn't have the heart to question whether or not it was so. It was better this way.

Once down to their undergarments, Oswald shuffled back into the bed, burrowing beneath the blankets. Edward followed in after him, snuggling close to his side. He wrapped an arm around Oswald's waist and rested his hand over his heart. The steady thump there seemed to match his own. Edward had once read a study that found the heart rates of couples were synchronized, making the phrase 'their hearts beat as one' quite literal. Thinking he'd consider it romantic, Edward shared the tidbit with Oswald.

"At least your heart still remembers." Oswald replied ruefully.

"My thoughts exactly. So... is this right?" Edward asked, hoping Oswald was being held the way he liked.

"Mmhm. Just like that." Oswald whispered.

Oswald was tucked up against his chest, a hand placed over Edward's to hug it more closely to himself. He could feel Oswald's thumb rubbing absentminded circles into his skin. It felt nice. As he settled into the quiet, Edward also became aware of his partner's breath, the pace not quite the rhythm of restful. The realization sent his heart bounding and his own breath came faster. Suddenly, he felt very warm and very aware of the body pressing against his own. And even more terribly aware of how much he desired it.

He remembered an earlier promise to himself to learn other fun secrets about Oswald's body besides being ticklish. Why deny himself? They made love that night. Taking it slow and experimenting like it was their first time. After they finished, Oswald sighed blissfully, basking in the afterglow.

Edward caught his breath, perfectly relaxed and bone weary. His head rested over Oswald's heart and he listened as it slowed back down to a resting rate. The measured tempo of Oswald's pulse was soft against his ear, soothing him like his own personal lullaby. He would never tire of the sound. He was beginning to nod off, when Oswald's gratified whisper broke the silence.

"Edward... thank you." He said with feeling.

"For what?" Edward murmured drowzy.

"For helping me forget."

Chapter Text

He couldn't have been dozing long when he felt a slight nudging. He tried to ignore it, but it became more persistent. Whoever was shaking Edward, he very much wished they would stop.

"Eddie? Eddie wake up." Oswald prodded him gently.

"Mmh?" Was Edward's groggy reply. He was vaguely aware of a damp stickiness from their earlier activities. It wasn't comfortable, but his half asleep brain insisted it was fine. Oswald, however, didn't seem to agree.

"C'mon Edward." Oswald admonished, "We need to get cleaned up before sleeping."

Groaning his displeasure, Edward rolled out of Oswald's warm, soft embrace. He rubbed at his face, willing the sleep away even as his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. He opened his eyes, blinking blearily at Oswald. He watched his husband, now free from under him, reach into the top drawer. Oswald pulled out some moist wipes and dabbed at the mess on his stomach. It didn't seem to be making much difference. Oswald made a face then eyed Edward and shook his head.

"Let's get cleaned up in the bathroom."

Edward nodded and reluctantly hauled himself to his feet. As he did, Oswald dug through the drawer of a nearby dresser, pulling out some night clothes for himself and Edward to change into. Then he came around the bed to tug Ed along, opening the door to the adjoining bathroom and ushering him inside. Edward stood back while Oswald relieved himself. After, Oswald turned back to Edward to help him. They went through the motions together of getting cleaned up, Ed still half asleep.

"You're not sore anywhere, are you?" Oswald questioned.

"Really? It's not like it was my first time." Edward mumbled. Then he thought about it and realized he actually didn't know. Maybe it was.

"It wasn't really my first, was it?"

"No," Oswald chuckled, "You and I are both very experienced. It's just been awhile."

"Has it? Why is that?"

"Just..." Oswald breathed in, "busy I guess."

It sounded like there was more to it than that and Edward wondered if he had the energy to delve into it. Curiosity inevitably won out over sleepiness. Was his marriage to Oswald in trouble before he lost his memories? As they dressed themselves in their night clothes, he voiced the question aloud and waited.

"Nothing like that." Oswald assured him, "We really were busy. Just lately... I'm wondering how important it all really was." Looking troubled he added, "I should have made more time for us. If I hadn't been away, maybe this wouldn't have happened."

"I was probably busy too." Edward said, knowing himself enough to imagine he'd been absorbed in some project or other.

"You were." Oswald agreed, smiling fondly, "As I recall, you were trying to discover the identity of Batman."

"A worthy mystery. Was I getting close?"

"Unfortunately not by a long shot." Oswald replied sympathetically.

"I suppose I didn't lose much progress then." Edward sighed, "So... is that all it was? Just busy? I kind of assumed we would have worked together as partners in crime."

"Sometimes we do. Often in fact." Oswald replied, "But you do find some of my business a bit tame for your tastes. I believe you described it as humdrum. Whereas your harebrained schemes tend to involve too many encounters with Batman for my tastes. Besides, one of us has to be the practical one. I can't get you out of Arkham if we're both locked up, can I?"

"Guess not." Edward replied distractedly. In the distance he thought he heard... a door?

"Anyway-" Oswald said.

"Hold that thought." Edward interrupted with a whisper, "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Oswald whispered back.

Creak.

"That."

"Old house." Oswald dismissed with a wave.

"No." Edward argued, "It sounds like someone's in the hall. I hear footsteps."

They stood stock still, listening intently. Seconds ticked passed and then they heard it again. The unmistakable sound of footsteps sneaking down the hall. Edward and Oswald glanced at each other and nodded. Without a word, they made their way to the bedroom door. Oswald grasped the knob and carefully, quietly turned it so it didn't squeak. He opened the door a crack and they peered through together. They saw the shadowy outline of a figure, back turned, round a corner. Shortly after, there was the creak of stairs indicating the figure's descent to the first floor.

"Strange for someone to be up this late." Edward mumbled, "Should we follow them?"

"Absolutely." Oswald growled dangerously.

They quickly, but quietly followed down after the mystery person. As they reached the foot of the stairs, they could hear a low voice whispering in a room off the hall. They tiptoed to it and listened with ears pressed against the wood of the door.

"That's right. The Van Dahl manor. They insisted Lee and I stay. No doubt thought they'd use us." It was Barbara's voice, "Just as well. They don't suspect a thing."

She paused a moment as though someone else were speaking. Must be a phone call.

"No. Not even Lee."

Her voice sounded somber. Was she having regrets? Clearly Barbara was a traitor. Edward couldn't say he was surprised. Some things don't change and Barbara's penchant for looking out for herself seemed to be one of those things. A quick glance at Oswald showed his thoughts on the matter were vastly different. He seemed shocked to hear Barbara on the other side of the door. Edward tugged him away just a short distance down the hall where he could whisper to him without being heard.

"We should stop her now. Force her to tell us everything she knows."

Oswald looked at Ed with that dumbfounded look still on his face. As he finally processed what Ed was saying, he seemed to pull himself together.

"No." Oswald shook his head, "Lee would never believe us over her. It could cause trouble. We'll have to trick her."

"You're thinking to have her lead us back to their base." Edward nodded along, thinking, "But how do we get her to go back?"

"If only one us confronts her with accusations, what do you think her response would be?"

Edward paused to think for a moment. He was quick, but not as quick as Oswald at predicting the behavior of others. Still, it only took him a second to see what Oswald did, the most likely move Barbara would make when backed into a corner.

"She'd need to make them disappear before the rest of the group found out."

"Exactly."

Edward frowned. He didn't like where this was heading. He could already see by the determined look on Oswald's face what he was planning.

"Oswald, no." Edward shook his head, "We'll think of something else."

Oswald gave him a meaningful look.

"No." Edward insisted, "No, I won't let you leave."

But Oswald's mind was made. He reached to tenderly take Edward's hands and Edward felt like holding on and never letting go. They could leave. Forget revenge. Forget his memories. Forget their home. All they needed was each other.

"Eddie, listen to me." Oswald spoke gently, "This is our best option. We can't run from this."

Even before he could say anything! Not even giving Edward the chance to try to persuade him. Typical Oswald. Always reading his mind when it was least convenient.

"You were the one against us splitting up!" Edward whispered furiously, trying another tactic, "And you were right! Look what happened last time."

Oswald hesitated then sighed.

"I don't like it either. But there isn't time. Any second now, Barbara will come out of there and we'll be out of options." Oswald said in hushed tones, "It's now or never and you know it's the best move."

It was. If they were going to find out what was going on and who was after them, it was really their only move. And he hated it!

"Oswald." Edward whispered, voice shaky.

Reluctantly, he nodded his acceptance. Oswald gave his hands a reassuring sqeeze.

"It'll be alright, Eddie. I won't really be alone." Oswald chuckled conspiratorially, "We're just going to make Barbara believe I am."

"It's still risky." Edward sulked.

"Nevermind that. I trust you'll protect me." Oswald grinned at him, "Go now to the aviary. Fetch Gertrud and instruct her to track me. Martin outfitted her with a small camera in addition to the tracking device. You'll be able to see everything she sees. We'll finally find the bastards responsible for this! Now go."

Edward let go, turned, and gave one last glance back over his shoulder. One last look at the man he loved before they parted. He swallowed the lump in his throat then rushed off to the aviary. No time for a second look back. Time was of the essence. Gertrud needed to be ready before Oswald left the manor or they'd lose him. He couldn't lose him.

Chapter Text

It was just as Oswald had said. The camera connected back to a conveniently sized handheld device with screen displaying a bird's eye view as Gertrud flew high above. Edward would be able to see everything. Well, almost everything. He missed seeing Oswald's confrontation with Barbara, but was in time to watch her leading him out of the mansion at gunpoint. Though it made him a tad antsy seeing a gun trained on his husband, Edward had faith in Oswald's plan. Besides, he would be following close behind them, ready to intervene if neccessary.

So far it wasn't necessary. Barbara's actions were completely expected, following Oswald's predictions. It didn't take long before she was forcing him into the trunk of a car and driving away. Oswald was officially abducted. Just as planned.

Edward quickly made his way to the garage to procure a vehicle of his own. He set up his screen propped against the car's dashboard. This way he could keep an eye on it as he drove. It helped him see which way Barbara had taken and allowed him to quickly catch up. Keeping quite some distance between them, he relied heavily on the screen for directions.

It was a good thing too. Edward had no idea where Barbara might be headed. Her route seemed to zig and zag every which way. There wasn't a chance this could possibly be the most direct approach. Clearly, Barbara suspected she might be followed and was intentionally weaving through the streets of the city in a complex series of twists and turns. Gertrud tailed the car with ease, ensuring the camera had sight of it the entire time. Barbara could disappear round a corner or zip through a stop light without Ed ever worrying about losing her.

All seemed to be going well, until he suddenly realized Barbara's path was taking them to a tunnel further ahead. Despite Gertrud's help, he might lose her there. The thick concrete walls were likely to interfere with the camera's signal. Edward stepped on the gas trying to cover lost ground, but it wasn't enough. He watched helplessly as Barbara entered the tunnel. His screen went blank. From his last glimpse before the camera feed was lost, Edward could see that Gertrud had still followed them into the tunnel. He could only hope that once he was through the signal would be restored and he'd still be able to locate Oswald. That they wouldn't be too far ahead of him.

The darkness swallowed his car as he entered the tunnel, like the maw of some large, terrible beast. It produced nearly the same effect of fear. Edward never enjoyed feeling ignorant and not knowing what awaited on the other side of the tunnel, if he would be able to find Oswald again, was filling him with dread. Several nauseating seconds passed seeming to stretch on longer than natural before Edward finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Unable to control himself any longer, he put petal to the metal, rushing foward into the light. He came out the tunnel, eyes desperately glued to his screen. Come on! The picture came back. He slammed on the brakes!

He came to a screeching halt just in the nick of time.

When the picture had come back, he saw it. A still perspective from above, indicating Gertrud was perched somewhere high. The camera was tilted down towards the street below, revealing Edward's own car stopped barely an inch away from the front fender of Barbara's. He looked up and met her eyes through the windshield. She waved.

Quick as a whip, he ducked down behind his steering wheel, readying himself for the bullets Barbara was sure to send his way. Nothing happened. After a minute, he carefully peered back up. He couldn't see Barbara. A sharp tap at his window startled him.

"Hey there! Yeah, I see you. Might as well come out and talk, don't ya think?" Barbara said, holding up her hands to show she was unarmed.

Edward scowled, but unlocked the door. He stepped out with gun in hand and pointed it at Barbara. She took a wary step back.

"Is that really necessary? I'm not threatening you."

"You threatened Oswald." Edward growled.

"Wasn't that your plan?" Barbara lifted an eyebrow, "I kidnap Oswald and take him back to the head honcho. You follow and learn the location. What then, I wonder. Charge in with that dinky little gun of yours. Alone? Somehow rescue Oswald before he bites the bullet. Great plan."

Edward's face burned and he ground his teeth. It wasn't as though it'd been his plan. But hearing someone demean Oswald that way struck a nerve.

Thump. Thump.

"Not alone." Edward retorted, "I would have called for back up."

"Uh-huh." Barbara said, "Anyway, I'm in."

Thump!

"What?!"

"I mean it." Barbara shrugged, "I'm going to help you. Your plan will work way better with me in on it."

That caught Edward by surprise. They didn't even understand what Barbara's motive was for betraying them in the first place. Why would she change her mind now? Why help them? THUD! What the hell was even happening? It was probably a trap.

"Why should I trust you?" Edward demanded.

"Have you got any other choice?" Barbara tilted her head, "You still don't know where to go."

"I could shoot you." Edward threatened, "One less enemy in the game is never a bad thing."

"Won't do you much good." Barbara sighed, "Believe me, Ed, I'm the least of your enemies. You and I want the same thing."

"What do you know about what I want?"

Thump.

"You want to protect your family." Barbara stated confidently, "Tell me I'm wrong."

"I'll do anything to protect them."

"And I did what was necessary to protect mine. I never forgot my daughter or what she means to me. All I did was for her. I'm asking you to hear me out. I just want to talk."

Thump thump THUMP!

What the heck was that? The noise had been just at the edge of his notice for awhile now. And it was truly irritating! As was the muffled shouting Edward only noticed now that he was paying closer attention. It must be...

"Oh dear!"

Oswald!

He'd forgotten he was still trapped in the trunk.

"Um," Edward cleared his throat, "I could be inclined to continue this discussion. But don't you think it would be more persuasive after you let Oswald out of the trunk?"

Barbara glanced back at her vehicle where the angry pounding sounds continued.

"Whoops!" She laughed, "Forgot he was in there. Kinda preoccupied with the gun pointed at my face."

"Point taken." Edward said, lowering the weapon, "Just get him out. Now!"

"Fine." Barbara said, "No need to get your panties in a twist."

As soon as it opened, Edward was leaning in to grasp onto Oswald and help pull him out. He held him steady as he got his balance. The man's rumpled appearance was only partially due to the fact he'd been so abruptly dragged from his home in the middle of the night. Oswald hadn't the time to change out of his night clothes before confronting Barbara, but his time in the trunk had them looking less elegant than they had in the bedroom. The fabric was terribly wrinkled and he'd managed to pull a few buttons loose as well. His hair was in complete disarray, probably more from his own thrashing about than any rough handling from Barbara. Face flushed red from all his shouting, he stood before the two of them panting and scowling like he couldn't quite make up his mind who he wanted to scream at first. Luckily, he seemed too out of breath to make it worth the effort. Instead, he settled on letting out an irritable huff and grumbling.

"Well, it's about damn time."

"Sorry, Oswald." Edward said sheepishly.

"Yeah." Barbara nodded along, "What he said."

Oswald's scowl melted readily enough at the apology, more so Edward's than Barbara's. He smoothed a hand over his pajamas as if to smooth out his temper too. It did nothing to improve his appearance, but did seem to help with his agitation at the pair of them. He couldn't be too upset with Edward then.

"No harm done." Oswald sniffed, "Besides I suppose we have more important matters to discuss. What's this I hear about helping? If that's your intention, you can start by telling us who's behind all this."

"Gladly." Barbara agreed.

Chapter Text

Edward crouched behind some shelves, surveying the space from a distance. Everything was ready. He was sure of it. He'd checked over everything a dozen times already. This time, with Barbara's aid, they'd scoped out the location properly. It was somehow even more generic than the last hideout. A warehouse by the docks. Wonderful. But thanks to Barbara, they at least knew where any lookouts along the way were likely to be stationed and even who was likely to be inside at any given time.

Edward had deployed their own forces strategically. They were to wait, hidden, near a side entrance until they heard gunfire and then storm inside. The words "storm" and "forces" may have been a bit grand to describe their lot. In total they were a group of seven. Oswald, Barbara, and himself of course and four of Oswald's thugs he hadn't bothered to learn the names of. In his mind, he'd assigned them numbers. Thing 1 and thing 2, thing 3 and thing 4. In all honesty, it was a little insulting to the Dr. Seuss characters. The men at Edward's disposal didn't seem to share more than a single brain cell between them. He desperately wished he had Query and Echo with him instead.

So their forces were small and not very bright. As long as they did as they were told, it wouldn't matter. Edward had accounted for it and made the plan to accommodate their lacking resources. Aside from the entrances that each of them would be coming through, all others were now boobie trapped. Any enemy reinforcements would find themselves blasted away by the explosives Edward had rigged up. Outside the warehouse, a car screeched to a halt and Edward perked up. Showtime!

Doors slammed and the shouting began. Oswald and Barbara had arrived right on schedule. They came through the main entrance, Oswald attempting to wrench away from the harsh grip Barbara had on him with one hand, as she twirled his confiscated umbrella in the other.

"Unhand me NOW! Or... or you won't live to regret it!" Oswald screeched at her, "You have no idea who you're messing with!"

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Barbara scoffed.

"It should!" Oswald raged, "Don't think just because you've forgotten, I'll go easy on you. You will PAY FOR THIS!"

"Ooh, I'm shaking."

They were laying it on a bit thick in Edward's opinion. For the ruse to work, some squabbling would be expected of course. However, the spittle flying from Oswald's mouth as he raged seemed like overkill. But perhaps that too would be expected. Edward could still remember a time when that matched exactly his image of Oswald. It seemed laughable now. Despite his hot temper, Oswald's seeming loss of control, more often than not, was merely an act. Edward had learned that Oswald wasn't always so easily swept away by his emotions. Rather, he rode the highs and lows, utilizing them like a gifted sailor might navigate the waves of a turbulent ocean. Edward recognized it as Oswald's own brand of brilliance, and, although so different from his own, he had to admire it.

He currently seemed to be the only audience for the production Oswald and Barbara were putting on, but Edward knew better. Despite the almost eerie quiet, they were definitely being watched. Edward kept to the shadows, eyes scanning around as Barbara dragged Oswald forward.

"Barbara, listen to me." Oswald's tone turned soft and serious, "Whatever's going on, this isn't you anymore. You don't have to do this! Just... let me go and we can forget this ever happened."

"I wish I could." Barbara frowned, her tone sounding almost remorseful, "But honey, I'm not the one hosting this little shindig."

"Then who is?" Oswald demanded, as though he didn't already know.

The clack of heels echoed through the surrounding silence. Oswald whirled to face the sound. Edward watched his face twist with hate. Though he'd already known who they would face before coming here, his reaction to actually confronting the reality of it was genuine. They could finally look upon the face of their foe and if looks could kill, Oswald's would have bled her out ten times over.

"You!" He hissed between clenched teeth.

"That's right, Oswald. Me."

Then Oswald and Barbara were faced with a dozen weapons all pointed at them. Their way in was blocked, only one way out now. All Edward could do was follow his plan. Gripping his gun tightly, he prayed it would work and took aim...

When he finally learned the identity of their adversary, Edward wasn't sure whether he should feel anything about it or not. If it was right for him to. He had no recollection of ever having met. Yet the name was one familiar enough to him. Anyone living in Gotham would certainly recognize it. It seemed to mean quite a bit more than that to Oswald however.

Edward would never admit it out loud, but it made him jealous of Oswald. All the trouble he'd gone through, his memory erased, and it wasn't even his nemesis they were facing. What did it take to get one's own nemesis in Gotham? The closest he'd had to a quality arch-enemy was Oswald and look how that turned out. Now married to the guy, it hardly counted. Perhaps Penn and Scarface? He should be able to do better than them though. That man was clearly insane.

Edward tried not to sulk as he watched Oswald take it all in. After hearing the name, he became very still. A myriad of things must be going through his mind. There was a peculiar look on his face that Edward couldn't quite place. Calm, clear, cold. Not at all the look Edward had expected. Far from the thrill Edward expects he would have felt. And even farther from the fiery rage his husband's face usually displayed upon hearing information about an enemy. He'd seen that look only once before. Right before he himself had been frozen in a block of ice.

"Falcone? Sofia Falcone..." Oswald intoned, low and bristling, "How is that even possible? She's supposed to be-"

"In a coma. Yeah." Barbara interjected, "But she's not anymore. You'd think you'd be used to it by now, old enemies springing up out of nowhere. Happens often enough. Take a guess what her goal is waking up in Arkham after so long?"

Even though he didn't remember it, Edward could guess based on what he'd been told.

"This was about revenge..." Oswald trailed.

"Precisely. Now you understand why she targeted Jim and Edward."

"But there were others." Oswald insisted.

"Others whose memories could prove inconvenient." Barbara pointed out, "When she awoke, she made sure anyone who knew about her grudge against you wouldn't be able to warn you."

Edward ran through the list of victims in his head. Himself, Jim, Barbara, Freeze, Catwoman, Victor Zsasz, and Dr. Patel. Jim and himself were clearly meant as revenge. Barbara was never actually a victim. From what Oswald had told him about the conflict with Ms. Falcone all that time ago, she and Zsasz had once been closely affiliated. Though they'd allied against Oswald then, there must have been something different this time to shake her confidence in the assassin. He could assume Dr. Patel was the attending physician in charge of Ms. Falcone's care. Then Catwoman and Freeze were likely the only ones who knew her identity being held in Arkham at the time. If these assumptions were correct everything began to fall into place.

"Freeze and Catwoman?" Edward inquired to be sure.

"Selena? Way back when, we helped Sofia kidnap Martin. She has no loyalty to Sofia now, but does for Lee and Jim. As for Victor Fries, you never can tell what he'll choose to stick his nose into. Sofia didn't want to take any chances after learning that Oswald here sponsors some of his experiments. They were both at the asylum the night she awoke."

That confirmed it then. Every person involved was connected in one way or another.

"That still doesn't explain how." Edward noted.

"You really have to ask knowing that Strange was involved?"

"His human experiments. The monsters..." Edward murmured, thinking back to Oswald's campaign for mayor.

Strange had given a wide variety of unique abilities to his test subjects then. He'd always assumed he'd abandoned that area of research after so much time without any evidence of its continuation. However it seemed he had continued, and what better test subject than a forgotten comatose woman in an asylum for the criminally insane?

"Strange gave her the ability then?" Oswald demanded.

"Bingo. One touch and your memory's wiped. She has excellent control over it too. She decides exactly how much time to take, down to the exact second."

It would sound crazy, but this was Gotham. And really, it wasn't the strangest thing they'd encountered. Still, it was a formidable ability and not to be underestimated. After all, Edward had already fallen victim to it once. They would have to be even more careful than they'd initially expected if Barbara's information was correct. And it certainly appeared to be. It explained everything, including the variances in each victim's lost time.

"So now you know everything. What's the plan?" Barbara inquired.

"Not much needs to change." Oswald said thoughtfully, "It doesn't sound like Sofia will be expecting you to trade allegiances."

"True. But shouldn't we come up with something more elaborate?" She wheedled.

"For what purpose? It's the essence of genius to make use of the simplest ideas." Oswald said snidely.

"I agree with Oswald. I think this could work. She won't be expecting it, so the two of you will be able to get in close. Kill the head and the rest of the snake dies. Right, Oswald?"

"Exactly."

"Fine." Barbara shrugged not sounding too thrilled.

"We should wait for back up though."

"No." Oswald's tone bartered no argument, "I won't let the chance slip through my fingers again. This time, I'm going to personally put an end to this."

"Oswald. This plan was spur of the moment." Edward argued, attempting to sway him to reason, "We're underprepared. Barbara has a point about that. We'll be outmanned and outgunned."

"Then we best get prepared. We'll stop by the Lounge to equip ourselves. There's probably some muscle we can pick up as well. My personal security detail. But we are not going all the way back to the mansion nor waiting for additional backup. I will not delay this any longer!"

Oswald swept away then, turning his back to them to head for the car. He raised his hand in a gesture that summoned Gertrud. She flew down and perched delicately on his arm just as he opened the backseat door and slid inside. Edward and Barbara exchanged dubious looks before following suit.

The decision was made. All Edward could do was follow the plan. Gripping the wheel tightly, he just prayed it would work...

Chapter Text

On the way to the Iceberg Lounge, they each withdrew into their own headspaces, contemplating in silence. It left Edward feeling discombobulated. He wasn't sure what to think or how to feel. He supposed he should be used to it. In a way he was. Identity crises had been his defining trait for many years. This was nothing new to him. It was familiar territory to just let himself detach, like a balloon, untethered and drifting further and further away. The difference was he fought against it now. He had something... someone worth holding onto.

Edward glanced up to the rearview mirror. In it, he saw Oswald gazing resolutely out at the city. His eyes seemed set ablaze with determination. It was those eyes, that very determination, that Edward had always been so fascinated by since the beginning. He revered his husband's fortitude, even as he feared it may one day be the death of him. He still held some reservations about Oswald's refusal to wait for back up. Edward would have preferred to proceed with caution, but couldn't deny the thrill it sent through him to be so close to finally confronting the one responsible for all of this. Besides, it would be the two of them together, he and Oswald. And he would do everything in his power to ensure their victory. That was Edward's resolve. To hold onto his husband and not let go this time.

When they arrived at the lounge, they gathered their forces (a meager four men) and their weapons. Then Oswald excused himself to change into something more befitting battle. As he put it, it wouldn't do for him to show up in his nighties. Edward had to agree. Being properly attired was about more than simple ego. It was that too, but it was also a valid intimidation tactic. Like applying war paint before battle, their appearance should strike at the psyche of their enemies. At the very least, Edward would feel more confident well dressed and groomed. So he went up to their apartment as well, donned his signature suit, and slicked back his hair. Oswald was still styling his own hair in the bathroom when Edward made his way back down to the lounge.

He found Barbara leaning against the bar, staring down at it with a slight grimace. Edward highly doubted that the bar was reason for her sour expression. He wondered if she was regretting her decision to team up with them or if there was something else eating at her.

Edward cleared his throat to catch her attention, "Plan on sharing why you switched sides?"

Barbara startled a bit, broken from her daze by the sudden inquiry. However, she recovered herself quickly, sharp eyes turning to study him. She looked as though she was internally debating how much to say or maybe whether it even mattered anymore. She hadn't really explained herself to them even after divulging all her information on Sofia. To Edward, that seemed pretty suspicious. He didn't doubt that she was on their side now, but he could tell she was hiding something more. He didn't like not knowing what that was. It made her unpredictable. They didn't need anything unpredictable in their plan. It could be a liability.

"I already told you." Barbara muttered.

"Wrong." Edward held up a finger, "All you told me was that you wanted to protect your family. That doesn't explain how you ended up playing into Ms. Falcone's scheme nor why you would turn on her now. She's holding something over you, isn't she?"

Barbara tapped the bartop in agitation. Perhaps hoping he'd drop it if she withheld the answer long enough. Edward had no intention of doing so and she must have seen something of that in his expression. Her shoulders sagged in defeat. She tossed back her hair and huffed.

"It's complicated." She finally said, "You're right though. The main reason was to protect my daughter. It's bad enough her father forgot her. I couldn't let Sofia make me forget too. So I did what she wanted."

"Even though it meant betraying them." Edward questioned skeptically, "Jim and Lee."

"Our daughter comes first." Barbara shrugged like that settled the matter.

There was more to it than that though. He may not read people as well as Oswald, but even he could see something didn't quite add up with that explanation. She was hiding something.

"Why not warn them? Go to them for help?" Edward shook his head, "You could have protected her together."

"Like I said, Ed. It's complicated."

Well, that didn't clarify anything. Edward waited silently to see if she might elaborate. She didn't seem inclined to. Edward thought back over her words. Thought back over everything she'd told him to see if he could figure it out anyway.

"Do you... Are Lee and Jim part of the family you're trying to protect?"

Barbara frowned, "That's... also complicated."

A light bulb went off.

"You're trying to protect someone else. Someone besides your daughter. If not Lee and Jim, then who?"

The look on Barbara's face told him she'd said too much already. She hadn't expected him to pry so close to the truth. He would think her an idiot for divulging so much without thinking he'd figure it out, but that wasn't it. She must have known he'd be capable of it. Maybe she'd hoped he'd let her be. Either way, it seemed her guilty conscience wanted to confess even if she wouldn't say it so directly. Now that she'd revealed it, she looked afraid. But before he could pull any more information from her, Oswald appeared. Barbara's features shifted back to a contrived expression of neutral, her guard up once more. So it wasn't him she was hiding from.

"So, are we all ready then?" Oswald questioned, "We're all clear on the plan?"

"It's not that difficult." Barbara said with a nod.

"Ed?"

It took him a moment to register the question in Oswald's voice. He'd still been considering the matter with Barbara. He knew better than to hope it wouldn't come back to bite them and without further information all he could do was take extra precautions.

"I'm clear. I was just thinking... there's one more thing before I'm ready." Edward stated, "Oswald, could you help me find my cufflinks? I couldn't remember where I keep them."

Oswald rolled his eyes, but accompanied him back upstairs anyway. Edward lead him through their apartment, eyes scanning for what he needed. He saw the collection of pens neatly laid out at a desk by the window and made a beeline for them.

"You think she bought it?" Oswald asked casually, "That wasn't your best deception, Eddie."

"She's preoccupied anyway."

"So what's this really about then?" Oswald raised an eyebrow.

"Just a precaution, but I didn't want Barbara to see." Edward told him, taking up two pens and handing one to Oswald. He uncapped his own and pushed up his sleeve to expose his wrist. Then he glanced back up to see the quizzical expression on Oswald's face.

"I don't follow."

"We're dealing with an enemy who uses memory erasure. If Barbara's to be believed, all it takes is a single touch and I could forget my love for you all over again." Edward explained as he quickly scrawled a message across his inner wrist.

143 Oswald

"What's that?" Oswald inquired, grasping Edward's arm to get a closer look.

"Something to guide me back to you no matter what happens. To remind me how much you mean to me." Edward told him.

"But what does it mean?"

Edward smiled softly at Oswald. He wasn't usually one to collect such romantic bits of trivia, but the tale had intrigued him. He knew his husband would enjoy this one as well.

"In 1890, it was recommended that all Lighthouses be assigned a numerical flash sequence." Edward began, "1-4-3 was one such sequence chosen at random."

Oswald furrowed his brow but didn't interrupt. Even in his confusion, his full attention hung on Edward's every word. Edward relished in it briefly before continuing.

"However, according to legend, this particular sequence came to have special meaning to the family of the lighthouse keeper. They lived on the neighboring island and could see the lighthouse from across the water. Every night they would see the sequence of flashes. The mother told her children that the flashes were a message from their father to say 'I love you.' You see, each number could represent the number of letters in each word of the phrase. I wrote it for myself as a message to say 'I love you, Oswald,' so that I wouldn't forget again. I won't let myself."

"You always find the most clever ways of saying it." Oswald whispered fondly, "I love you too."

Oswald gave him a quick peck on the cheek then pulled back his own sleeve, "I'd better do the same then. Just in case."

Edward watched Oswald's curving script against his skin. It flowed elegantly down his arm, a bit longer than his own message. Though Edward was certain it expressed a similar sentiment, the meaning of it escaped him.

Life gives you one. Run to Edward.

"So, what does your's mean?" Edward inquired, curiously tracing the ink.

"My mother used to tell me life only gives you one true love. When you find it, run to it." Oswald explained, "My mother was right. You're the only one for me. No matter what happens, I'll run to you, Eddie."

Edward may have once scoffed at the idea of true love, but here and now, Oswald's belief in it seemed terribly endearing. Edward stopped his tracing the lines to lift Oswald's wrist up and press a soft kiss there. He inhaled Oswald's scent and breathed out, "I love you" against his palm. Then he rolled down Oswald's sleeve and took his hand in his own.

"Shall we?"

The soft look on Oswald's face was soon overtaken by one of bloodlust. He licked his lips like he could already taste it and grinned maniacally at Edward.

"My dear Ed, do you really have to ask?"

It had all lead up to this moment. Oswald and Barbara faced with a dozen weapons all pointing at them as Sofia gloated, assuming her victory already won. She had no idea she was playing right into their hands. Edward took aim. From his hidden location, he saw Oswald's maniacal grin spread once more across his face. He stared down Sofia with absolute confidence. That was his signal. Sofia had only a second to look confused before Edward fired the shot.

Chapter Text

A single shot was all it took to set off the chain of events, as predictable as aligned dominoes all in a row. Edward's bullet found it's mark, lodging right between the eyes of one of Sofia's men. His body slumped and fell, all eyes turning to watch, save for Oswald's and Barbara's.

They immediately took advantage of the planned distraction. Barbara tossed Oswald his umbrella, his signature secret weapon, as she drew her own. Oswald took aim at the closest schmuck to stand between him and the target of his wrath, Sofia Falcone. He shot, bullets firing from the umbrella's tip. Another body fell. Then Oswald's men came running in to join the fray. Like clockwork.

From his vantage point, Edward did his part and picked off the opposition one by one, ignoramuses all completely baffled by his bullets. They couldn't seem to figure out from where they came, as if the trajectory were a mystery instead of the clear indication of Edward's location that it was. In panic, some of the men attempted to flee, instead running straight into his traps. Edward giggled gleefully as first one bomb was set off followed by another. BOOM! BOOM! Music to his ears. He admired the gory scene of blood and limbs before returning his focus to Oswald.

Oswald was now engaged with Sofia, using the trick umbrella to shield himself from a spray of bullets sent flying his way. Edward could have ended it then and there, but didn't have the heart to ruin Oswald's fun. Even from a distance he could see his husband's teeth bared in a ferocious grin. He was clearly enjoying himself.

Besides, the fight was truly a sight to see. Oswald was always an excellent shot, but he seemed to have picked up some other skills. From the looks of it, hand-to-hand combat and... fencing? Edward wondered where he'd learned to move like that. The Oswald he remembered was more tactician than fighter, although he'd never been above getting his hands dirty. But this Oswald was on another level. He showed complete mastery over his weapon, wielding his umbrella to parry attacks or shoot at enemies. And Sofia seemed totally out of her depth.

Edward realized this must not be the Oswald she remembered either. Clearly, she'd underestimated him and was obviously outmatched. It became clear to Edward that they were going to win this. Even despite their small number. They were down two of their original four henchman, but the element of surprise and Oswald's battle prowess had given them more than enough advantage to come out on top. Now, within mere minutes of that first bullet Edward fired, Sofia's forces were down to none. She stood alone.

"My my, Sofia Falcone. At long last awake and already back to the same tired tricks. You seem to be under the misconception that my heart is my weakness. You never do learn not to come after it, do you?"

Sofia seethed, but said nothing.

"I must admit," Oswald started again, "I really thought you'd be more of a challenge. It seems your new powers haven't improved your capabilities. In fact, I'd say you put up more of a fight the last time. The coma must have addled your mind."

"Bringing up my powers, Oswald?" Sofia sneered, "You know what I think? I think that all this confidence, all this gloating is just to mask how afraid of me you really are. You know you can't kill me. I'm still the only one who can bring their memories back. Soon you'll be begging at my feet to restore your beloved's, but you'll be wasting your breath."

"I expected as much. You always were a sore loser." Oswald replied, "No. That is not my intention. I've already accepted him as he is. And we've both made our peace with it. You hold no leverage over us. So first, I'm going to make you pay for what you've done to Edward. And then I'm going to make sure you never have the chance to hurt my family again."

"You can't be serious!" Sofia said disbelieving, "He'll never remember you!"

"I'm dead serious."

"Barbara! What are you doing?" Sofia snapped authoritatively, "Stop. Him. The father of your child... Jim will never remember her if you allow this!"

"Sorry. I'm siding with Penguin on this one." Barbara callously brushed off her weak demand, "You shouldn't have threatened my daughter."

"Well, now that's settled, let's get started." Oswald rubbed his hands together deviously, "I think I'll make it slow."

Edward was looking forward to this. Though it was his memories that had been stolen, it felt fitting that Oswald be the one to carry out their revenge. Besides, Edward would enjoy watching him work. Just as he had when they were younger. Back when he was a budding villain and Oswald's broken spirit was finally mended with the killing of one Mr. Leonard. Edward's reminiscing was brought to a startling halt.

"Don't move." Came a whisper behind him, accompanied by the press of cold metal, a gun to the back of his head.

Crud. That couldn't be good. He knew that voice. Recognized it. He knew for fact that the one possessing that voice likely only hated him slightly less than his husband. Very slightly. He also knew for fact that she was supposed to be dead. Only in Gotham. The voice belonged to none other than Tabitha Galavan. And that definitely wasn't good. Not that their was a thing he could do about it.

Tabitha raised her other arm, a second gun pointed ahead of them. Two shot rang out in quick succession, and Oswald's final two henchmen fell to join the rest of the dead. Then she shouted to Oswald.

"I'd give up now, Penguin! If you value this dickhead's life!"

Now that was just uncalled for.

"Walk forward. Slowly." She hissed in Edward's ear.

Edward complied, leaving the shadows of his hiding spot to move out into the open. Oswald's eyes caught Edward's for a moment before snapping to the woman behind him. Edward watched his jaw drop.

"How is this possible?!" Oswald wheezed, liked he'd been punched in the gut, "Doesn't anyone stay dead anymore?!"

Oswald swerved to Barbara, taking his eyes off Tabitha for the time being. He looked ready to murder her on the spot. Edward noticed her guilty flinch. This must be what Barbara was hiding. The existence of the woman now threatening Edward's life.

"You knew, didn't you?" Oswald accused, pointing a finger and shrieking, "You planned this!"

"No. Swear to god, I... I thought we lost her before coming here." Barbara raised her hands, "I couldn't just tell you. You might have killed her again!"

"You don't owe them an explanation." Tabitha snarled, "They have this coming. They deserve it!"

Oswald looked about to protest, but Barbara beat him to it.

"On that we disagree." She said coolly.

Tabitha scoffed. Edward watched for an opening when the two might be distracted enough to use to his advantage. Despite the bickering though, Tabitha kept her gun digging painfully into Edward's skull. She used her other hand to point animatedly at Oswald.

"He killed me, Barbara! That freak deserves worse than death! And you didn't even avenge me!"

"I didn't need to. I brought you back!"

"And then sent me away!" Tabitha snapped, "Because I'd ruin your perfect little family. The one you're not even a part of."

Ouch. That was a pretty low blow. Not that Edward could really talk. He'd given his fair share of low blows. Tabitha didn't seem through with hers yet though.

"They only tolerate you as long as you behave. That's why you didn't want me there, isn't it?"

"I was protecting you." Barbara argued indignantly then gestured at Oswald, "You really think he would've just let you live? He would've come after you! I wanted to keep you safe! Leaving Gotham was the only way."

"Bullshit!" Tabby cried.

"Ladies!" Sofia clapped her hands to draw their attention, then said pleasantly, "Perhaps the two of you could... catch up at a more opportune time."

Silence fell. Tabitha and Barbara stood rigid and awkward, both looking as though they'd just remembered they had an audience. Oswald was busy rolling his eyes. Sofia seemed pleased despite the outburst. And Edward was still desperately trying to figure a way out of this mess.

"Bring him here." Sofia gestured at Edward, "We'll see just how much peace they've really made with forgetting."

Tabitha shoved Edward forward. Oswald took aim at her with his umbrella. She smirked at him, knowing she had the upper hand. As long as Edward was in the path of her next bullet, there wasn't a thing more Oswald could do than bristle and threaten. She shoved Ed forward again.

Sofia reached with claw-like hands, nails long and painted red as fresh blood. She gripped Edward harshly by the hair and dragged him to his knees before her. He yelped at the rough treatment and Oswald snarled, rushing forward. Sofia leveled him a warning glare to remind him.

"Not another step, Oswald. His life or his memories? Your choice."

Oswald grit his teeth, expression pained as he looked at Ed. Edward turned to him, trying to shake his head, trying to convey that he shouldn't give into their demands. He saw the moment Oswald accepted defeat, witnessed the fight leave his eyes. His shoulders slumped and he cast his umbrella aside.

"Please. It's me you're after." Oswald implored, "Let him go."

"You misunderstand. He's a part of this too." Sofia shook her head in mock sympathy, "This is your punishment, Oswald. For getting my father involved all those years ago. Now you're going to learn what it's like. Having the one you most love turn against you and then lose him."

Oswald was shaking. It was the last Edward saw of him. Sofia grabbed his face, directing him to face her once more. She placed a palm to his cheek and Oswald started screaming. Loud at first, but it gradually became muted. There was a buzzing in his head and it was drowning everything else out accept for Sofia's cold gaze above him. He tried to fight it. He tried to hold on. He strained to hear Oswald's voice crying his name and remember that he loved him. But the buzzing was relentless, consuming. It was never a choice when it all slipped from his grasp.

Chapter Text

Edward blinked. It was one of those odd moments, where for just a second, he couldn't remember where he was or what he'd been doing. Strange... That never really happened to him anymore. Not since he'd pulled the opposing halves of himself together. He'd finally found a singular focus to make him whole. The carefully tended flame of a decade long grudge.

"Mr. Nygma? Everything alright?"

There was a woman standing before him looking mildly concerned.

"Yes. Yes, of course." Edward replied still somewhat dazed, "I was just..."

Slowly his understanding began to soldify in his mind. That's right. The woman was Sofia Falcone. Although he hadn't known her for long, he owed her much. She recently secured his release from Blackgate Penitentiary. Ever since, they'd been working together to overthrow Penguin's empire. Now, at last, they had him.

"Not having second thoughts, I hope. You are sure about this?" Sofia whispered, laying a hand on his shoulder, "If you'd prefer, I can have Tabitha take care of it. I know you used to be friends..."

"That won't be necessary." Edward answered, "I'll kill him myself. I've waited for far too long."

"Very well. Make sure it's a slow, painful death." Sofia grinned and handed him a switchblade, "Have fun, Riddler."

Riddler?

Edward never had a moniker of his own before, but he really liked the sound of this one. Riddler. It fit like a well worn glove. So much so, it was like it already belonged to him. And that was the oddest thing. A powerful sense of déjà vu washed over Edward the more he thought about it. He was almost certain he'd heard it somewhere before. But where? When?

"Come along, ladies." Sofia said, sweeping passed him.

Still somewhat puzzled, Edward turned to watch them go. He recognized Barbara's retreating figure, Sofia guiding her away with hands on her shoulders. Barbara cast a backward glance towards him. He wasn't sure how to read the look in her eyes. It was like she was trying to communicate something to him. Something important. Another puzzle... That train of thought was broken by the sound of Tabitha. His mind shifted to this new focus, dismissing the likely inconsequential questions from before.

"Here." She muttered, before following after them, "He's all yours."

And there he was. The man who ruined his life stood with hands bound behind his back and gagged. His eyes were rimmed red from crying, cheeks still wet with tears. Blotchy patches reddened his skin, marring his usually pale complexion while snot ran from his nose. He looked pathetic. Edward swallowed hard. Disgusting even. The sight of him should fill Edward with nothing but contempt and rage. It should. His hands shook.

Edward quickly composed himself. He gripped the given knife to still his hands and stalked closer to his enemy. This was the moment he'd waited for.

"Oswald." Edward's voice came out a harsh rasp, "I've waited so long for this. Ten years. Ten agonizing years I spent in Blackgate. For a murder I never committed. But you already knew that."

Oswald's brows knitted together. He looked so stupid feigning ignorance. He knew. Of course he knew! It was all his fault Edward was sent there at all. His fault Isabella died. And it was Oswald who then framed him for her death.

He could remember how it happened clear as day. The trial had been going poorly from the very beginning. They'd had the murder weapon, Edward's own gun, easily tying it back to him. He hadn't even a solid alibi and his defense was terrible, despite being the best money could buy. That Oswald's money did buy. But the prosecution didn't have a clear motive. It wouldn't have made a difference, but Edward remembered pinning what miniscule hopes he had for acquittal on it. Until Oswald was called to the stand.

Oswald's testimony had condemned him with his very own words. He'd told them everything Edward had ever confided in him. Every conversation between them. They knew Edward confessed fears that he may do Isabella harm. It had all been described for the court in full detail. That was the final nail in the coffin. And Edward was found guilty.

He had been baffled back then. Edward could not fathom why Oswald would do that to him. It only became clear when he had been led away, Oswald's cold eyes watching as handcuffs were secured around his wrists and he... smiled. Oswald smiled! Not the sort meant to reassure. It had been smug and cruel. And as he was escorted down an aisle, headed for the door, they had passed by Oswald. And he heard him say it.

"How dare you forget you belong to me. I made you."

Edward understood then.

Oswald had been showing him his place, punishing him for imagining he might have been able to lead a normal life with the woman he loved. He hadn't told Oswald, but the man must have found out anyway. He must have known Edward intended on putting in his resignation and settling down with Isabella. Edward had expected Oswald may have some objections, but not like this. He thought in the end Oswald would support him. Be happy for him. As a friend.

It was like the friendship he imagined they had never existed at all. He had only been as a pawn in Oswald's climb to the top. Only as good as he was useful. A tool that no longer worked was to be discarded, but not before making sure it worked for no one else. That's why Oswald had done it. To break him.

Edward had never felt so betrayed. He'd vowed to himself that one day he'd be free. And when that day came, he'd stop at nothing to end Oswald's life. Now that time had finally come.

"You had this coming, Oswald!" Edward seethed, "Don't you dare act as though you don't understand why this is happening. It's too late for that. You and I both know you deserve this! You were the one who killed Isabella!"

This wasn't going as expected. He thought the man would fly off in undignified rage, howling malice and internally cursing his name. It was what the Oswald in his memory would have done. Instead, he was met with nothing more than a blank look. Did Edward really mean so little to Oswald that he could have forgotten? Had he alone nursed this hatred while being nothing more than a blip in Oswald's life? He growled frustration and watched as understanding finally dawned on Oswald's face.

"How could you?!" Edward hissed, "I loved her..."

Somehow, something about those words rang hollow. The feelings that should accompany them were only as an echo of something long gone. Simply the ghost of an emotion. They stood in sharp contrast to other feelings swelling within him. The ones he had now, seeing Oswald bound before him. It was like this had happened before, like he was making a mistake... again.

"And you killed her." Edward pressed on, trying to recapture his previous feelings of grief, "And then you pinned it all on me."

Oswald was shaking his head vehemently. Edward's temper spiked. The absolute nerve Oswald had to try and deny it again! He raised a hand to strike him across the face, but never delivered the blow. Because Oswald flinched. Seeing him cower from his hand like that, Edward couldn't do it. It didn't make sense. And that made him furious! This repulsive little coward didn't deserve his mercy.

"YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!" Edward screamed, not even sure who he was really angry at.

Oswald stared at him, wide-eyed with fresh tears falling. He worked his jaw, looking to be trying to say something, but the cloth in his mouth muffled the attempt. His eyes screwed closed in despair. With nothing left to do, Oswald sobbed into his gag and shook his head hopelessly.

For some reason, the sight stirred something in Edward's chest. His heart ached with it. He could chalk it up to the feelings of friendship he once held for the man. Somehow, that didn't seem right, but surely it could be nothing else. He must only be reliving the grief of that loss. A loss he only felt because Oswald betrayed him in the first place. He held to that tightly, keeping it in mind to reignite his rage.

Edward flicked his switchblade open. He approached Oswald, closing in until he was able to grab him. Grabbing a fistful of hair, he yanked Oswald's head back causing him to yelp. Then Edward looked him over and considered how best to draw this out. Sofia had requested slow and painful. It's what Oswald deserved for everything he'd done. Yet, Edward didn't think he could stomach it. He wasn't normally squeamish and this was what he was supposed to want. It just didn't feel right, though he couldn't explain why. He wondered if he should just slit Oswald's throat and be done with it. Edward's blade hovered over Oswald's neck, as he willed himself to proceed. Why couldn't he do this?

Oswald took his hesitation as a chance to try to speak again. It was no use, but Oswald was persistent. He kept making muffled sounds, kept crying, and kept desperately trying to get him to understand... something. It was irritating and distracting. And it made Edward want to know. What could Oswald possibly have to say in this moment? What final words would he have?

There was a tug, a need. It went far beyond curiousity. He had to know. Something he didn't quite understand urged him to hear this. Edward lowered the blade from Oswald's throat. Tentatively, he began to untie the gag and slip it from Oswald's mouth.

Oswald stopped crying. He took in a shuddering breath, then opened his eyes. Mismatching, one blue and one green. Fetching, now that Edward noticed. They were searching his own. For what, Edward couldn't even begin to guess, though it startled him. All he saw in Oswald's look... he couldn't put a name to it. Or maybe he didn't want to. If he didn't know any better, he'd say it was love. Something was wrong with all of this. He could never remember Oswald ever looking at him with such tenderness. Yet it felt so nostalgic.

"Eddie?" Oswald whimpered.

Eddie?

Edward's heart throbbed painfully in his chest.

"You were trying to say something..." Edward said coldly, "Here's your chance. If you have something to say, now is the..."

They had done this before! The feeling of that was almost overwhelming. He tried to dismiss it, to carry on with this moment. He finished sounding a little shaky.

"N-Now is the time."

He watched Oswald's features twist in anguish at his words. He didn't realize how his expression mirrored him, that same anguish reflected on his own face. All he knew was the way his pulse raced and that he would wait however long it may take to learn what Oswald had to say.

Oswald seemed to be struggling to compose himself. His breath came in sharp gasps like he couldn't breathe. A sign of great distress. He clenched his jaw for a moment until his breathing calmed. He took a steadying breath. And at last, he spoke. When he did, his voice was small, but carrying unexpected strength.

"Edward Nygma-Cobblepot. If anyone can figure this out, it's you. I know you can."

Nygma-Cobblepot? It sounded as familiar as Riddler to his ears. Uneasiness settled like lead in his gut.

Oswald paused, swallowing down the lump in his throat, "Last night you told me, 'No matter how many times I forget, I will always fall in love with you again.' Those words were your promise to me. I believe in it. I trust you, Eddie."

"You're not making any sense."

"I know it seems that way, but it's true." Oswald insisted, gaze drilling into him, "And deep down I know you know that!"

"No." Edward shook his head wanting to dismiss it.

"Please! Before you do anything else..." Oswald pleaded, "Please, just do me one last favor."

He didn't want to hear it!

"Just look at your arm!"

What was Oswald playing at?

Edward looked at his arms. He didn't know what he expected. He was readying to demand an explanation from Oswald when another thought occured to him. With trembling fingers he rolled back the sleeve of his non-dominant arm and sure enough there was something there.

"1-4-3, Oswald." Edward read aloud, then quieter deciphering the meaning, "I love you, Oswald."

The phrase rolled off his tongue, habitual as his penchant for telling riddles. It felt like something he said all the time. And that alone terrified Edward. It couldn't be true that he loved Oswald. The man was a monster who so cruelly robbed him of everything he ever cared about. None of this made sense! He wouldn't believe it except it was right there on his own arm. In his own handwriting!

Edward's heart began hammering in his chest. Fear flooded his system and he felt like he might be dying. His mind couldn't reconcile the ink on his arm with the memories in his head. The hatred he felt with pangs in his heart. What he thought he knew with what he felt was true. He loved Oswald. Oh god, he loved Oswald! The fear, sharp and cold, lanced through his mind, his stomach, his chest. He was gulping air, but unable to breathe. It was too much.

Too much!

"Edward."

He found Oswald's eyes again. They were too gentle, too kind gazing at him. Too completely at odds with what he believed only an instant ago. Too much to comprehend and flipping his entire understanding of his own experience upside down. He felt far away.

"Eddie?"

He felt himself watching from outside his own body, detached.

He felt himself once more take the reigns of his body in his hands alone.

It took a moment for them to realize what had happened. With it came calm. Numbness. He didn't need to feel anymore. He could consider this all rationally and not be swept away by his emotions. He could figure this out. They would be okay.

Oswald's concerned expression deepened.

"You... You've split. Haven't you?" Oswald's voice shook, "Where is he?! Where is the other you?"

"He's here too." Edward answered, "He's watching."

Oswald sighed relief.

Edward was a bit surprised that Oswald recognized it so quickly and even more that he understood what it was he saw. Nobody had ever seen him that way before. Not in his memory. The more he examined the situation, the more he found it didn't make sense. Oswald clearly knew him better than he remembered. Now that he could calmly analyze all the evidence, everything seemed to be pointing to his memories being false. But that wasn't possible, was it?

"Oswald?"

"Yes?"

"Why did I write this?" Edward gestured to his arm as he spoke.

"It's going to be hard to believe."

"Tell me anyway." Edward pressed, "Please, I think I might know what's going on."

"Alright. The truth is you were afraid this might happen. That Sofia would make one of us forget our love for each other. She's our true enemy." Oswald explained, "A-And it's my fault she had the opportunity. We were coming here to confront her, make her pay for what she'd done to us. You tried to tell me to wait for back up. I- I didn't listen. I'm so sorry."

Edward waved away the apology. It wasn't important now. He just needed Oswald to continue.

Oswald sighed, "We might have been better prepared if... Anyway we almost won, but then you were captured and forced to forget. You're my husband, and I couldn't protect you. There was nothing I could do."

As Oswald spoke, Edward studied him carefully. He looked for any trace of deception, but found none. In fact, Oswald looked genuinely as though his heart were shattering.

"But I swear to you, I'll fix this! I'll find a way." Oswald promised.

Edward nodded along as he thought it through.

"Not memory erasure. Memory manipulation." Edward murmured, "If she could plant false memories in my mind, she could make me hate you. My memories seem... inconsistent with reality. Tell me, Oswald. What is the truth?"

Edward watched Oswald tilt his head up to look at him, close enough that he could count each freckle. Gazing deeply into Edward's eyes, Oswald smiled. It was nothing like the one from his memory. The warmth he found in it enveloped him, and he knew this one was real. Like light, it chased away the shadows of any lingering doubts.

"The truth is you love me." Oswald said, soft as a sigh, "And I love you. We would do anything for each other."

Edward felt it. That sentiment resonated somewhere deep within him even if he couldn't remember. He looked to his other self. The look on the other Ed's face confirmed it too. There was confusion in his expression, but also something else. He might not have recognized it if he hadn't seen it there. It really was true. They loved Oswald. It was the only way any of this made sense.

"I believe you."

"You do? That easy?!" Oswald exclaimed.

Edward chuckled, "You seem surprised. I thought you believed in me."

"I do! It's just... just that it took a lot more persuading last time."

"You'll have to tell me all about it sometime."

Oswald nodded.

"Later though." Edward added, going around Oswald to untie his hands, "Right now, we need to go after her. I don't appreciate anyone tampering with my mind and thinking they can get away with it."

Oswald bristled at the mention of Sofia.

"I am going to tear her limb from limb for this!" Oswald snarled, "But not before we fix your memories. She will fix this or so help me, she will suffer a thousand times over!"

Edward finished untying the knots and patted Oswald's shoulder.

"Not to worry, Oswald. We'll track her down. And when we do, we'll make sure she suffers for everything she's done to us." Edward told him, knowing he had no intention of it.

No. When they found her, there would be no drawing this out any longer. Edward would shoot her in the head and be done with it. He wasn't going to allow for anymore chances that something could go wrong. From what he understood, they'd been through all of this before. Even though he had forgotten before, he still ended up with Oswald again. They could work it out this time too. Somehow they would, and that would have to be enough.

Because as much as he'd managed to push back all emotion, there was still one sending sharp pangs to pierce the armor of his numbness. It was fear. The fear of losing himself further. The fear of being so easily manipulated. The fear of what he may lose if it happened again. The fear that he'd already lost something too precious to him and may never get it back. So many fears. And Sofia Falcone was the source of them all. He wouldn't allow it to continue. He couldn't risk whatever it was he had left. Not for anything, not even revenge.

Chapter Text

With acceptance and a plan came a certain amount of clarity. His circumstances were still incredibly strange, the stakes still high, but it no longer felt quite so overwhelming. He could feel the parts of himself coming together, once more aligning. Centering himself to the task at hand. Partner with Oswald, find Sofia, eliminate her and the threat she posed. After that... he wouldn't think of that now. One step at a time. Deep breath.

Edward startled. The gentle touch to his back had been unexpected. Oswald withdrew his hand, mumbling apologies with downcast eyes.

"It's alright, Oswald." Edward told him, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You don't have to treat me so carefully. I'm not an egg about to crack."

"I guess I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop." Oswald sighed, "All of this should be impossible to believe and you just accepted it so readily. Last time was different. It took so much to convince you. I don't know what changed or how but... I don't want to ruin it."

Edward faced Oswald. He took in the rope burns around his wrists, before looking up to his eyes. He was the one worried about ruining things? He was worried when it was Edward that had nearly slashed his throat? Edward clenched his teeth.

It was terrifying. His mind still remembered Oswald as his enemy. The memories still insisted Oswald was to be hated. The feelings were all still there. Even knowing that it was a trick, that the memories weren't real, it wasn't so easy to shake. But he had to. Edward would not allow himself to be ruled by false emotions. He thought that was a given. Yet, Oswald made it sound as though it hadn't worked out that way the first time.

Edward didn't know why things were different this time either. It was impossible to tell without remembering how things had gone before. All he did know was that the idea of killing Oswald had felt wrong even before he understood why and that it was important enough he know that for his past self to leave him a message. 143 held a deeper meaning than a simple "I love you." The story behind it was about love crossing distances and it was also about family. He didn't have the time nor strength of mind to fully explore the implications of that now. One step. Deep breath. But first he had to reassure his partner.

Edward rolled back his sleeve until the ink across his wrist was visible.

"You have nothing to convince me of. I wrote this myself." Edward reminded him, "And I made you a promise. No matter how many times I forget."

"You will always fall in love with me again." Oswald finished.

"Precisely."

"Thank you, Eddie."

The silence that follwed still felt like eggshells, but at least Oswald's spirits seemed a little bit raised. Edward would be needing that from him. He couldn't afford to have Oswald treading so carefully. Not when he was depending on him to come up with a way to find Sofia. Edward had nothing to go on himself. And if any part of his memories were real, if he still knew anything about Oswald, then the man should have prepared a contingency plan anyway.

"So, where do we go from here?" Edward prompted, "I assume you have a means for finding Miss Falcone."

"Right you are." Oswald replied, "My Gertrud would have followed her. It should be a simple task then to find her."

Gertrud?

"Your mother?"

Oswald laughed, "No. My pet. A lovely, very intelligent crow. She's trained to do all sorts of things, including tailing my enemies. I have a tracking device on her, so I can find her anywhere she goes."

That was certainly not the contingency plan he would have imagined, but it suited their needs perfectly. A trained crow of all things. His reality really was flipped topsy-turvy. Not even in his wildest dreams would he have thought to see Oswald training birds to do his bidding. The very idea of it, of Oswald patiently teaching a crow, was a humorous image and Edward couldn't help but crack a small smile as they exited the warehouse together.

"Follow me." Oswald waved Edward over, "We have a car parked this way."

Edward took the driver's seat, so Oswald could keep an eye on the tracking device. As he drove, Oswald called out directions and described the movements he saw on his screen. As such, there wasn't room for more personal conversation, for which Edward was grateful. Staying focused on their objective was priority, but even if it weren't, he wasn't sure he would know what to say.

His thoughts didn't have long to dwell on it however. Soon they were catching up to their quarry. Oswald pointed to it just ahead. Edward stepped on the gas to close the distance. The pursued vehicle swerved a sharp right. Round a corner, through a red light, and picking up speed. Edward narrowly made it before a garbage truck came barreling through the intersection.

Even so, he lost sight of them zipping through traffic and disappearing around another bend. Oswald directed him to a shortcut down an alley that should put them back on their tail. Edward followed it, eyes peeled for any hint of the enemy's car. As they came back onto the main street, he spotted it directly ahead. Apparently, they were spotted in return, but it was too late. Edward had them!

Pedal to the metal, he gained speed quickly, coming up alongside them. Matching his speed to the other vehicle, he lined up his front end with their rear bumper. Then shoved into them! Their car began to skid, spinning out of control. Edward pushed forward, slamming into the side of it. Everything came to an abrupt and jarring stop. Edward was thrown forward in his seat. His head was pounding, but he quickly regained his bearings. Gun in hand, he threw open his door. Oswald had already exited and was dragging a still dazed Sofia from the wreckage by her coat.

"Oswald, move!"

Oswald had barely turned to question him, when Edward did what he'd come to do. He pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced the center of Sofia's forehead, leaving behind a neat, red hole. She collapsed in seconds to bleed out on the pavement.

Oswald stood flabbergasted. It hadn't yet fully sunk in for him until Edward was looming over the body and squeezed the trigger again. This time through the heart just to be sure.

"Ed! WHAT THE HELL?!" Oswald screeched

"What's done is done." Edward said back simply.

"She was the only one who could fix your memories!" Oswald yelled, "Why would you do that?!"

Edward opened his mouth to answer, but never got the chance.

Through all his shouting, Oswald failed to notice Tabitha emerging from the wrecked vehicle. But Edward saw. She raised her gun to aim at his chest. His heart thundered in his rib cage. And for some reason, he froze on the spot. Finally taking notice of Edward's distraction, Oswald turned to see her there too. He fell silent, just before the bang.

Time seemed to slow after that. Edward had never seen him move so fast, but Oswald was suddenly in front of him, shielding his body with his own. The action transported Edward to another time. The memory unlocked, likely due to the similarity.

They were on a rooftop, fighting for of all things the city of Gotham. Suddenly, a grenade. It landed at their feet! Edward froze. He couldn't make himself move. Time had slowed then too. Distantly, he heard Oswald shout his name. He could remember being shoved to the ground, Oswald's body covering his. The loud sound of an explosion. The ringing in his ears. Oswald's screams of pain. The disbelief. The guilt. The question. Why would Oswald sacrifice himself to save me?

Not again!

Edward launched himself at Oswald with a speed he didn't know he possessed. He used the force of the impact to spin their bodies as they fell, maneuvering so that he shielded Oswald. They hit the ground, and Edward scrambled to haul Oswald behind their car for what little protection it offered. He heard Tabitha's growl of frustration and nearing footsteps. With frantic eyes, he searched for his gun. He must have dropped it in all the chaos. It had to be around somewhere!

Edward shuffled forward on hands and knees. There! He reached...

And came face to face with Tabitha's boots.

"Found you~"

She stepped on his hand, crushing it under her heel. Edward howled in pain. Oswald was at his side in seconds, rearing up to attack their assailant. Tabitha released Edward's hand to kick Oswald back to the ground then leveled her gun at Edward's face. Oswald threw up his hands.

"Wait!" He shouted.

"And why should I?" Tabitha growled, "You killed Butch. Then me. I'm going to kill him and then you. It's only fair."

"Do you think it stops there?" Oswald demanded, "You kill us and you think you can move on?"

"That's the idea."

"I assure you, it won't end there." Oswald warned, "We have a son, a family. They will stop at nothing to take vengeance. And it won't just be you. Think of Barbara. She could be hurt or killed. Is that really what you want?" Tabitha's previous smirk died, replaced by hesitation. "I always knew you cared for her." Oswald continued, "I could have killed her too. But I didn't. And I won't. You could move on and keep her safe."

"I could keep her safe anyway. After I kill you!" Tabitha snapped through gritted teeth.

"You're doing a fantastic job already." Edward interrupted, "Where is she now?"

Fear transformed Tabitha's eyes. Her fury was completely wiped away at the sudden reminder that Barbara wasn't at her side and the worry of why that would be. She frowned, looking over her shoulder to the wreckage. Then turned back to glance down at Edward and Oswald, seeming conflicted. Her nostrils flared and she let out a frustrated shout.

"Fine! Deal!"

She turned her back to them and rushed away to retrieve Barbara.

Edward and Oswald got to their feet, dusting themselves off, before making their way to the crashed car as well. They watched Tabitha frantically tugging at the jammed seatbelt holding Barbara in place. Barbara looked dazed, blood seeping from a wound on her forehead.

"Step aside." Edward told Tabitha, "Let me get that."

She reluctantly moved and Edward pulled his switchblade from his pocket, the same one Sofia handed him to kill Oswald. Tabitha must have thought his intention was to now use it on Barbara. She hissed and grabbed his wrist.

"I'm just getting the seatbelt." Edward explained, motioning to it.

Warily, she let go and he proceeded with his work. Edward used his knife, this one had a serrated edge, to saw at the belt. It took some time, but he eventually got Barbara free. As soon as he did, Tabitha shoved him out of the way once more.

"You probably need to get her to a hospital. She could have a concussion." Oswald observed unhelpfully.

"No thanks to you." Tabitha grumbled, gently lifting Barbara and cradling her against her shoulder.

"If you'd let me kill Sofia back at the warehouse, we wouldn't be here now, would we?" Oswald couldn't help the snarky retort.

"Whatever." Tabitha rolled her eyes, "Just get out of my way."

She moved to push passed Oswald and head for his car. Oswald stepped firmly in her path. Now that they were no longer bargaining for their lives, some of his usual petulance had returned.

"No can do. We need it and it's ours. You'll have to seek transportation elsewhere."

"Are you serious?"

"You know I am, so run along." Oswald grinned snidley at her.

Edward chuckled at the look on her face. He had to admit it. He enjoyed that cold, cruel smile of Oswald's when he wasn't on the receiving end of it.

"Eddie, come help me with this."

Oswald said, making his way towards the corpse of Sofia Falcone. He leaned down, grabbing her wrists, and heaved. Then began dragging her back to the trunk of the car. Edward scurried over to take hold of her ankles to help.

"It's not like hiding the body will do any good." Tabitha called after them sarcastically, "It's broad daylight and there are way too many witnesses."

"This isn't about that. It may be too late for you, but I'm ensuring this one's not coming back." Oswald asserted, "No body. No problem."

Chapter Text

Now what?

The question ran deep. It went beyond right here and right now. Edward wasn't merely concerned with the next few minutes, hours, or even days. As uncertain as those were, they couldn't compare with the uncertainty he felt about his future in general. How can one know where they're going when they can't even remember where they've been?

With his history a lie and his past unknown to him, Edward had so little by which to orient himself. He had no idea who he was meant to be. It was like the man he was and is were both strangers to him. His fingers traced over the message on his arm, lingering over Oswald's name. He wished he knew more about the man who wrote it. He wondered if it would ever come back to him.

He glanced over to the bearer of the name. If Oswald shared his concerns, he didn't voice them. He ranted and raved about Sofia Falcone instead, relishing in their victory over her. If he seemed a bit overzealous in his gloating, Edward found himself unable to read between the lines. Perhaps it was just show, and he was only hiding his worries. Perhaps it was genuine, and he was too swept up in his triumph to be concerned right now. Edward couldn't tell. So he let Oswald carry on uninterrupted, while he brooded alone.

They had Sofia incinerated. Let the body burn until it was nothing more than ash. Oswald's eyes gleamed with something more than fire's glow as they watched it. He was quiet then. He had taken up Edward's hand in his own and squeezed gently without taking his eyes away. There was an intensity to his countenance, dancing in his fire-lit eyes. Windows to the soul. His showed indomitable spirit. Edward had known that, understood that from the very first moment they met. It was what had drawn him in back then. He felt that same pull, somehow even stronger now. Felt the heat of it, like a moth to the flame.

When the deed was done and the ashes abandoned to the wind, they left for home. Oswald made a call on the way, leaving Edward to his thoughts. But Edward was tired of overthinking. Instead, he listened in, although much of what was said went over his head. It might well have been a foriegn language for all the sense the half a conversation made to him. Actually, a foriegn language would have been more comprehensible. Turns out, it is exceedingly hard to understand things without context, even for an intellect like Edward's.

"He did WHAT?!" Oswald squawked into the phone.

Edward couldn't quite hear the reply on the other end. Judging by the look on Oswald's face, they must be pretty close. A friend? Normally by this point (especially in a conversation going this poorly), Oswald would be red with rage and threatening murder. Instead, he listened only mildy agitated, but mostly concerned.

"That's different. Eddie and I..." Oswald cut off to listen again, "Martin is very capable, but how could you let him go alone?"

Edward couldn't help but note how much Oswald seemed to care for this Martin fellow, whoever he may be. He pushed down the unexpected stab of jealousy that invoked. It wasn't easy, especially hearing Oswald compliment the other man so readily. Edward was definitely more capable than that guy!

"Really?! Lee Thompkins!" Oswald sputtered, "She hardly counts as a reliable ally and you know it!"

Edward wondered at the amount of ire in Oswald's tone when he uttered the name Lee Thompkins. There was certainly some history there though he couldn't fathom what it might be. From what he remembered of Lee, he had a hard time imagining she would ever have reason to cross Oswald. And from what he remembered of Oswald, anyone who had crossed him shouldn't still be breathing.

"What do you mean it doesn't matter?! Penn is dangerous! He could-"

Oswald paused, eyes widening.

"Hold on! Batman?!" He demanded.

For some reason that made Edward shudder. With a slight tingling sensation, goosebumps rose across his skin. Whatever a bat man was, he didn't want to encounter it. Although surprised, Oswald didn't seem alarmed however. He looked like he might actually be relieved.

"Well. You could have said so sooner." Oswald huffed, "So then, Martin is..."

Another short pause.

"Safe." Oswald sighed, "Good."

The person on the line must have had some questions of their own. Oswald nodded along as he listened before replying.

"Okay is arguable. Anyway, we're both alive and it's over. I'll explain everything when we come home."

Another pause, and by the sound of the answer, another question.

"Not yet, but we'll back tonight." Oswald answered before hanging up.

"We're not heading home?" Edward inquired.

Oswald opened his mouth to answer, then hesitated, "Uh... we can. If you'd prefer to. But I thought, well, there's... so much to discuss. Perhaps, we could go somewhere quiet? Just the two of us?"

Edward swallowed, thinking it over.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Oswald's eyes brightened at the easy agreement. He was clearly still unsure how to behave around him. Edward hoped that talking it out would help with that and clear the air between them.

"In that case, I was thinking we pay my mother's grave a visit? Unless you have somewhere else in mind."

"I don't even know my mind." Edward laughed softly, "We should stop for flowers along the way. Lilies, right?"

"You remembered." Oswald smiled softly.

"I haven't forgotten everything." Edward mumbled.

They found a flower shop shortly after and bought a bouquet. As they walked out, Oswald's stomach rumbled, so they stopped to pick up food as well. Nothing fancy. A bucket of fried chicken, which Oswald tucked into without finesse. He tried offering some to Edward when he noticed him not eating. Ed declined. He didn't quite have an appetite after the stresses of the day so nibbled lightly at just a few biscuits while he drove. And those, he only took because Oswald was so persistent in his concern. Oswald finished eating by the time they arrived at the cemetery, having left aside a few pieces of chicken in case Edward changed his mind.

As they stepped out onto a gravel drive, a light wind picked up. It tugged at their hair and clothes, but was pleasantly cool and helped clear Edward's head a little. He carried the bouquet as Oswald took the lead. The way was a familiar path, although it had been a long while since Edward remembered last walking it. That was during Oswald's stint in Arkham Asylum. He'd brought flowers to Gertrud's grave once each week back then. Edward imagined he and Oswald might have similar habits now. He wondered if that could be why Oswald chose this place. Or maybe he was just feeling particularly sentimental. It was one of his endearing qualities, even if Edward didn't always quite understand it.

"Hello mother." Oswald greeted when they reached the headstone, "Eddie's back. And he remembered your favorites."

Edward gently laid the flowers down and awkwardly whispered his own greeting, "Hello again, Ms. Kapelput."

They stood for a solemn moment, each in their own remembrance. Then Oswald stepped over to a nearby bench. He gestured to the spot beside him, indicating for Ed to sit as well. Edward perched beside him, hands in his lap and glanced sideways to his partner.

"What now?" Edward finally uttered the question endlessly running through his mind.

"I don't really know. There's so much to tell you, so much to explain." Oswald ran a hand down the side of his own face, "Where do I even begin?"

His tone wasn't frustration exactly, but maybe something akin to it. He looked tired. With what little Edward knew of the whole situation, he couldn't blame him for it. He felt tired himself.

Edward decided to dive right in.

"You mentioned a son? I never thought I'd be a father."

"I know." Oswald said, placing a hand on Edward's knee, "But you make a good one. You're nothing like your parents."

"I... I guess I shouldn't be surprised you know about them." Edward sighed.

Oswald grimaced, "I'm sorry. It must be so strange. I don't know what all you remember, so I don't know how to- I don't know what to say."

"Oswald, I told you earlier." Edward reprimanded him gently, "You don't have to treat me so carefully. It's strange for both of us."

"You're right." Oswald nodded, taking in a steadying breath.

"What's his name?"

"Martin." Oswald smiled, "He's so smart, just like you, and just incredible. You'll be able to meet him when we return home."

Martin. No doubt the very same from the phone conversation. He'd been jealous of his own son. There was nothing to do but laugh at himself. Edward's amusment must have shown, for Oswald eyed him curiously.

"What is it?" Oswald inquired.

"Oh nothing really." Edward waved it off, "It's just, on the phone, you were speaking about him before and I didn't even realize. I... well, I got a little jealous."

This last bit he added, sheepishly grinning. Then Oswald was chuckling too.

"This happened before, y'know? You really are the same." Oswald happily declared, "No matter what memories you hold in your head, you're still you."

"Thank you." Edward said with feeling, "Hearing that... I needed it more than you know."

Conversation began to flow more easily after that. Oswald spent hours recalling story after story of their son and various occassions they spent with him. Edward learned a lot about their boy. He also learned a lot about their lives in general from the tales. About their adventures, their shared hobbies, and their friends.

Throughout the tellings, Edward listened with rapt interest, only occasionally interrupting to request additional explanations or descriptions. He soaked up each new piece of information like a sponge, his mind already comparing what he heard against what he felt. Trying to find the point where they met. Hoping for a spark of recognition.

They talked late into the evening. Oswald only stopped himself as the last sun's light was beginning to fade to darkness. He looked a little nervous, though Edward wasn't sure why.

"We should continue this conversation later and head home." He said, eyes darting around.

"Okay..." Edward said confused, "What's wrong though? You seem nervous."

"There..." Oswald looked like he felt silly to admit it but eventually came out with it anyway, "There could be ghosts."

"Really?" Edward smirked, "Ghosts, Oswald?"

"Don't laugh!" Oswald snapped, pouting.

"Sorry." Edward chuckled one last time.

"My father believed in them. I guess you could say I inherited my superstitious nature from him." Oswald reminisced, "You are the only one who ever knew that. You once used the knowledge to make me believe I was being haunted by his spirit."

"That sounds cruel."

"That was your intention." Oswald said, shrugging like it didn't still haunt him. Clearly, it did.

Edward pressed his lips together in a thin line. He wondered why he would do something like that. Was he ordinarily so cruel to Oswald? It didn't sound like him. Edward had a difficult time imagining he would be like that with someone he loved. And that seemed only to be confirmed by the many stories Oswald had just shared with him.

Oswald sensed the conflict in him. His expression turned somber, his eyes taking on a faraway, fearful look. He swallowed down a lump before turning to Edward.

"I don't know exactly what Sofia made you believe about me," Oswald whispered, "But I believe those false memories were at least in part based on real events. You mentioned back at the warehouse that I killed Isabella and that was true. I did do that."

Edward was momentarily stunned. He'd incorrectly assumed that every bit of unpleasantness from the false memories had been a lie. He hadn't even been sure she was real.

"You did? Did you frame me for it too?"

"No. I tried to hide it from you." Oswald told him, "You found out anyway and got revenge on me."

Oswald stood from the bench and Edward thought it his way of dismissing the topic. He didn't, however. Oswald continued on, as they walked to the car, filling Edward in on every detail. It wasn't a nice story. Oswald spared him nothing in his recounting of it. Then they sat in the car without a word, Oswald fidgeting in his seat while Edward processed what he'd been told.

If he was being honest with himself, he wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. Even though those events happened between them, Edward's emotions felt distant from it all. It was much like he'd had difficulty recapturring the feelings of grief Sofia's lie told him to feel. They just weren't real to him anymore. Not like the present, here with Oswald. Watching how rigidly still he held himself, like he was afraid to even breathe. The only discernible movement was in his trembling fingers. Slowly, Edward reached over the seat to take Oswald's hand, twining their fingers together.

"You don't have to be nervous." He whispered, "It isn't easy, taking all this in, but it's in the past."

Oswald met his gaze, eyes searching his.

"How can you say that so easily?" Oswald's chin wobbled, "I just told you all the most horrendous things I've ever done to you. You don't remember how we got passed it or even remember forgiving me. All you have are the bitter memories."

Not quite accurate, as the memories he possessed were false, but he took Oswald's meaning. He was wrong though. Edward had more than just that.

"Oswald, I may need to understand my past, but I don't want to dwell in it. Right now, I'm more preoccupied with the future. Our future." He said, lifting his other hand to cup Oswald's cheek, "Besides, you're wrong."

"What?" Oswald croaked weakly, "What do you mean by that?"

Edward's thumb brushed just under Oswald's eye. The pale blue one that didn't match his memories. Oswald shivered slightly.

"You saved me." Edward answered, "You sacrificed yourself to save me from a grenade. And I remember it."

Oswald gasped.

"When Tabitha shot at us, it came back to me."

"I don't believe it." Oswald's voice was hushed with pure wonder. Tears gathered in his eyes and he choked back a sob.

"How could I not fall in love with you?" Edward breathed, lightly caressing his cheek, "In that moment, I knew you would always save me because you have. You would even sacrifice yourself to do so, but I won't let that happen again."

"Wow... So much the same, yet so very different. I don't believe it. When you forgot again I... I thought..." Oswald couldn't continue.

"You thought you lost me again." Edward finished for him.

"Mmhm." Oswald sniffled, "I didn't think I could take it again. But you remember something. And you don't hate me. And..."

Oswald took a breath and let out a soft laugh. He wiped at his eyes, grinning now. Then all at once, he'd launched himself across the small space between their seats to envelop Edward in a tight hug.

"I love you, Edward." Oswald sighed into his chest.

Edward wrapped his arms around the man in return. He lay his cheek against his head, felt his hair tickle his nose and breathed in his familiar scent. It was there. He knew this smell, this touch, this heartbeat in rhythm with his own. He could feel his honest feelings all encapsulated in this embrace. And he knew without doubt it was true when he whispered back.

"I love you too, Oswald."

Chapter Text

A light rain fell over Gotham. It lent to the early morning hours a sort of softness that was at once uncommon and familiar. With sun's light dimmed by the cover of cloud and noise of the bustling streets below muted by light pitter patter, the city was as close as it ever came to peaceful. Within the walls of the Iceberg Lounge, all was silent save the gentle snores of the man who owned it. Even, for once, the mind of the man now quietly gazing at him.

Mornings such as these were a rarity for Edward. It seemed his mind was always running a mile a minute. This had certainly been true the previous night. Scheming together with Query and Echo to meticulously plan out every part of their next heist. His mind was anything but quiet then, springing forth every possible scenario and counteract to it. His friends had helped him hammer out the final details before Edward finally took his leave and went home. Only then his mind could rest.

Oswald was already fast asleep by the time he made it back and shuffled into bed. Seeing him there, Edward snuggled into his side. It was cozy and comfortable and gratifying. He fell into a dreamless sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow and stayed that way, curled around Oswald until morning.

It truly had been a really good sleep. Despite his late night, Edward awoke feeling refreshed and calm. He listened to the rain and his husband's snores, marvelling at how easy it'd been to settle into this life even without his memories. The lack of them wasn't so intensely felt anymore. At least, it wasn't always on his mind. There was still the occasional bad day, when he missed what was lossed. On those days, Oswald seemed always to know just how to comfort him. Those days were fewer and fewer as time went on, and new memories filled the emptiness left behind. This morning he didn't feel it at all. His mind was blank, and he was content with that. It was enough to be lying in the warmth of his own bed next to the man he loved. He allowed himself to bask in it.

It would be time to get up soon and prepare for the day. But not yet. He wasn't yet through with the simple joy of waking up beside his husband. Edward ran a hand through Oswald's hair, enjoying the texture. It was feathery without the customary products to hold it in place. Edward loved it like this. He loved combing his fingers through the strands until it was all a fluffed up mess. Oswald would have protested were he awake, so Edward took advantage while he was not. As he did, he also admired Oswald's slumbering face and every exposed freckle across his nose. Then he leaned in closer to press a tender kiss to his forehead.

"Good morning, Sleepyhead." Edward mumbled against his skin then pulled away.

Now he was ready to begin the day. It wasn't that there was much to do. Preparations for his heist wouldn't begin until the following week and Oswald's schedule was pretty much clear as well. If he truly wanted to, Edward could remain in bed until Oswald awoke. He could, but it deviated from his usual routine. And Edward did so love having breakfast ready for Oswald when the other man finally got up.

So Edward detached himself from Oswald's side and got out of bed. Oswald stirred a little at the absence of his warmth but did not wake. Edward tucked the blankets back around him to make up for it. Then he padded softly to the bathroom, careful not to disturb Oswald's rest further.

The marble tile of the bathroom was cool beneath his feet, chasing away any lingering drowsiness. Edward flipped on the lights, stripped out of his night wear, and folded it neatly. He lay his clothes across the sink. As he did, his eyes were drawn up to the mirror and his reflection. He hadn't split again since the incident with Sofia. However, sometimes it still felt like there was another watching him through his own eyes.

Edward shook the thought away and turned to the shower. It was as luxurious as the rest of their apartment, with sleek glass from floor to ceiling and fish scale tiles in verdant green glaze. Edward stepped into it and ran the water for precisely twenty seconds, the amount of time needed for it to heat up. He let the water cascade over him, ducked his head under the spray as well and savored its warmth. The morning couldn't go any more perfectly.

"Couldn't it?"

Edward froze. Smirking at him from the glass was his ever-watching reflection. His alter ego (or one of them at least). Though for the life of him, Edward couldn't figure out which one. He thought he was whole. He didn't remeber splitting again, but the figure before him proved he must have. So which one was he? Riddler or Ed?

"Neither." the reflection answered with a derisive laugh, "I thought you lost your memories not your brain."

Edward stepped out of the water and closer to the glass to inspect the other's face.

"How is this possible?" Edward questioned, "There's only ever been Riddler and Ed. Who are you?"

"I'm the part of you that remembers. And it's time you did too."

"Why now? Why not sooner?"

The reflection shrugged. The snide attitude from earlier had disappeared. Instead he offered Edward a commiserating smile.

"This is the first time our mind has been quiet enough for me to reach you."

That made sense. His mind was almost always a buzz with something. Worries and fears and the plans to distract himself from them. How long had it been since he last felt at peace? Edward hadn't realized the answer before this moment. Since the confrontation with Sofia, he couldn't remember ever feeling it fully. Not until this morning.

"How does this work?" Edward asked.

There was always something to it with his hallucinations. Something he was meant to understand or figure out. Some obstacle to becoming fully himself.

"Just remember."

Then it was gone.

Pondering over those words, Edward returned to his bathing routine. He felt his body and mind relax once more. The sound of falling water was in his ears and he breathed in the scent of soap as he lathered it in his hands. The scent was familiar. Of course it was. He smelled it on Oswald all the time. For a long time... Years... Ever since...

A wave of nostalgia swept over Edward.

He'd never forgotten the beginning of their friendship. That at least was intact. Finding the Penguin in the woods and taking him home to nurse back to health. He hadn't forgotten Oswald freeing him from Arkham either. Then being taken to his home and staying there with him. He remembered their morning habits from back then, so similar to the ones they had now. Edward would always wake first. Oswald would sleep in a bit longer. Those mornings together were some of his favorite memories. Breakfasts. Conversations. The smell of that soap...

He followed that line of thought. Just a thin string he held tightly to. He allowed it to guide his mind, careful not to lose it. As he did, he passed through the false memories, brushed them aside as flimsy, frail things no more substantial than cobwebs. Beneath them, he feared to find nothing, but he kept hold of his string resolutely and continued.

When they came, they came in pieces. Fuzzy and indistinct at first. The flash of a smile. A touch at the knape of his neck. Muffled piano music playing from the other room. As the memories pieced back together, they became richer and fuller, details slowly filling in. Months spent building a submarine. His wedding day. Adopting Martin and their first ice cream outing as a family. Game nights with Query and Echo. The memories were coming back rapidly now. The bad as well as the good and for a moment, Edward was completely overwhelmed by it. His head felt like it might crack open. Then, as quickly as it came, it was over.

Edward blinked open his eyes. He didn't remember closing them. Heck, for a moment he didn't even remember where he was or what he'd been doing before. It couldn't have been long. The water was running a little tepid, but the shower glass was still steamy. He turned it off. He took a moment, searching his own mind and discovered... he remembered. He remembered everything!

"Oswald! Oswald!" Edward called, bounding into their bedroom, sopping wet and dripping everywhere.

He should have at least grabbed a towel first, but he couldn't be bothered with that now. The excitement was too much for him!

"Oswald! Wake up!" Edward insisted, shaking the slumbering man's shoulders, "I remember!"

Oswald groaned. He rolled to face Ed, opened one eye and groaned again. Then to Edward's dismay, he ducked under the blanket, pulling it tightly around himself like it could shield him from the morning.

"Fine, but I'll be back in five minutes. And I'll be taking your blanket." Edward threatened.

"No." Oswald muttered, "No, I'm up."

But he didn't move.

Edward vibrated with impatience. He sat on the edge of the bed, just watching the blanket wrapped lump for any hint of movement at all. He wondered if Oswald fell back asleep and began contemplating what annoyance might best rouse his husband. He could steal the blankets and perhaps drip water on his face.

He was just about to when, finally, Oswald slowly emerged from his blanket cacoon. With a haughty sigh, he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His grumpy demeanor did nothing to bring down Edward's excitement though.

"What is it?" Oswald yawned.

"I remember!" Edward trilled, "I remember everything!"

Oswald's eyes widened. His mouth fell open for just an instant before spreading into a joyful grin. He was shaking his head like he couldn't believe it and latched onto Edward's biceps with both hands.

"Truly everything?" Oswald inquired, "You're sure?"

"I can be broken without a single touch – only be taken back by who I am made. Sometimes I'm given to deceive, but when kept, I am the greatest gift of all. What am I?"

"A promise!"

"My version of 'I do.'" Edward recalled, "I spoke it at our wedding."

"Yes." Oswald verified, wiping a tear from his cheek.

"And then I took you, like this." Edward said, taking Oswald's face between his palms as he scooted forward, leaning into him, "And I kissed you before you had the chance to say it yourself."

"Just ensuring I didn't get cold feet, no doubt." Oswald giggled.

"You are the Penguin. Cold feet comes with the territory." Edward replied lightly, "But no. I never doubted you'd say it back."

"Never?" Oswald questioned.

"After everything else? Never."

Then before Oswald could say another word, Edward was kissing him. Just as he had on their wedding day, he felt Oswald's arms wrap around his shoulders. It had been the only confirmation he'd needed then. Oswald's "I do." Now it felt like a reminder of that day and their devotion to one another. Through thick and thin they'd always come back to each other. Through memory loss and murderous plots, they persevered through that too. They'd been tested in the most unfathomable and challenging of ways and come through stronger because they had each other. Even though some of the memories were painful...

"You're thinking too much." Oswald grumbled, pulling him down to recline with him against the pillows.

He let go the thread of thought. It wasn't needed at present. Oswald's fingers were in his hair, lightly scraping his scalp like he thought he could scrub the thoughts away. His lips were at Edward's throat leaving a trail of kisses across his skin, delicate and warm. Edward sighed contentedly.

Now the morning was perfect. And this time, there was no contrary voice to tell him otherwise, so it must be. He'd completely forgotten he was still quite drenched and now so too was Oswald.

Shivering, Oswald pulled away and sighed, "My dear Ed, I don't always know if you're worth the trouble."

"That's mean, Oswald." Edward pouted.

"Perhaps, but fair. Look at the mess you've made. Water everywhere."

He'd left puddles on the floor behind him, and the rest was now soaking into the bedding.

"Oops."

"Uh-huh. Oops." Oswald huffed, though clearly he wasn't really mad about it (his big grin gave him away), "Don't worry. I'll have one of the staff take care of it later. Go finish your shower."

"Care to join me?" Edward wriggled his eyebrows salaciously.

"Eddie, you're incorrigible."

"Is that a no?" Edward purred, already knowing the answer.

"I didn't say that." Oswald said, allowing Edward to help him out of bed.

With two slippery, nude bodies to wash, the pair lingered longer than usual in the shower. This was mainly Edward's doing. He found a slippery Penguin to be quite distracting and indulged in far more than scrubbing. When at last their fun in the shower was done, and each was properly washed as well, they toweled off and got dressed.

Then they made their way into the kitchen. Oswald pulled up a chair to watch while Edward made pancakes. It wasn't part of his usual routine to have an audience, but Edward found deviations could be pleasant on occassion.

As Edward mixed batter, they discussed their plans for the day. Oswald insisted he let him throw a party to celebrate the return of his memories. Edward acquiesced on the condition it would be more a small gathering of their friends than a full on party. So Oswald made calls to their friends while he was flipping pancakes.

After breakfast, they left the Iceberg Lounge to run a few errands for the party. The rain had stopped by then, though the clouds above still seemed dubious. Not that it mattered much to the pair as long as Oswald brought along his trademark umbrella. Should the need arise, they would shelter under it together. Until then, it served well as a cane.

They strolled the streets of Gotham at a leisurely pace, popping into shops that (Edward now remembered) they frequented regularly. The last on the list was Oswald's favorite boutique wine store. They were on their way to it when they caught sight of a pair of unwelcomely familiar faces. Oswald gripped his umbrella tightly as Edward's hand clutched protectively at his shoulder. Spotting them in return, one of the women rolled her eyes. Barbara held up a placating hand.

"Relax. We're not here for trouble."

"We could be." Tabitha sneered, earning her a side-eye glance from Barbara.

Oswald tensed at this. Edward readied himself for a fight. However, Barbara was still hellbent on peace and casually stepped between the hostile glares.

"We're just passing by." Barbara reiterated, "Right Tabby?"

Her companion didn't bother with words but nodded. She appeared to be sulking. It was enough to relax Oswald and Edward at least a little.

"If you're not here to cause problems, then move along." Oswald said tersely, "Eddie and I have more important things to attend to."

"No need to be so cold, Ozzie." Barbara responded, not one to be brushed off so easily, "So, what's the occasion?"

She gestured to their shopping bags and Edward practically bounced at the mention of their party.

"My memory has been fully restored." Edward supplied, unable to hold back his grin.

"Well, whaddya know. Looks like you got Jim beat." Barbara said to Edward, "Congratulations."

"Really? He doesn't remember yet?" Oswald asked, curious despite himself.

"Mmhm. That lame brain still has some gaps in his memories, particularly the ones involving me. At least he remembered his daughter."

"That's... something." Oswald offered, turning to Ed for input.

Edward shrugged.

"Mmh." Barbara hummed, "Anyway, I guess I have you two to thank for it. I couldn't have saved my family without the help, so thanks."

"Well, let's not make a habit of it. Farewell Barbara. Tabbitha." Oswald spoke, striding past them.

"So long." Edward called back cheerfully as he followed after.

He was pleased to learn he'd remembered sooner than Gordon. It shouldn't matter to him as much as it did, but it would have been a blow to his ego to learn otherwise. His chipper mood seemed catching. Oswald looked pleased as well and soon the two of them were laughing together over the unfortunate state of the commissioner's mind.

They acquired several bottles of champagne for the party, picked up some Chinese take-out for lunch, and headed back to the Iceberg Lounge. There they found their son had arrived early. He brought news of his own, the morning paper tucked under his arm. When he saw his dads, Martin waved them over to share it. He unfolded the paper, spreading it out across the bar top, and pointed to the front page headline. Oswald frowned slightly as he read it.

"Shame." He muttered, "They found him before I did."

Edward peered down to see for himself. Plastered across the page was a large photo of none other than Arthur Penn next to another of his infamous dummy, Mr. Scarface. Apparently, they'd finally been captured, after months on the lam. Edward shared Oswald's annoyance. He too had hoped they'd capture them on their own before the law could deprive them of their vengeance. At least they'd had their fun tormenting Strange. It wasn't quite the same without him remembering why they were tormenting him, but they had fun none the less.

Edward took the page with the story on it, folded it up, and tucked it into a pocket. After his upcoming heist, he would need a new project and breaking into Arkham was worth the effort for a worthy cause. Oswald might even want to join in for this one.

The family of three then headed up to the apartment for lunch. Oswald laid out the food while Edward prepared them tea. Martin got the plates. Then they ate and listened as Edward relayed his odd experience earlier that morning and how excited he was to remember everything again.

Edward couldn't help but note how much more at ease he felt around his son now that he fully remembered him. That had been the hardest part of the memory loss. Not remembering his own son. Everything and everyone else, he had eventually come to terms with. But it had felt too odd, the casual familiarity that Martin had towards him when he hadn't been able to return it. He hadn't meant to be awkward around him, but he'd felt guilty for it. Now that was gone, and in this moment everything felt so simple and right. Thoughts of that time, bad memories, all felt distant. It was the sweet memories they spent the rest of the afternoon reminiscing as they prepared for the evening's party.

As night fell over Gotham, the first to show were Query and Echo, unsurprisingly. They immediately dashed to Edward as soon as they arrived. Query, overcome with joy, gathered him into a hug while Echo merely clapped him on the back and offered congratulations. Query couldn't help herself and began quizzing Edward on their past. How did they meet? What were their real names? Favorite games? Etcetera, etcetera. The whole time, both women were smiling ear to ear. Edward was too. Must be contagious.

Soon after, in fact right on time, was Lucius Fox. He sent Edward a friendly wave as he walked over to join the conversation. Edward was happy he decided to come. The man was his oldest friend, other than of course Oswald, and probably the best when it came to just needing someone to listen. Tonight that particular skill wasn't required, but it was nice he came all the same.

Others filtered in shortly after. Lark, one of Oswald's henchwomen (who got along famously with Query), Olivia and Olga because Oswald insisted, a young man by the name of Ignatius (who Edward recognized as one of Martin's friends), and even Selina Kyle (with a disgruntled Ivy in towe) made an appearance to thank them for taking down Sofia.

All in all, it was a wonderful time. Drinks were passed around. Someone made a toast. Later on, Echo comandeered the Lounge's speaker system to play music. As some of the young women took to the floor to dance, Edward found himself feeling strangely disengaged. Like something was weighing in the back of his mind no matter how he tried to ignore it. He sat back and sipped his champagne, until Foxy joined him. Perhaps his skills were needed after all.

"So," Lucius started, having noticed that Edward was lingering in the periphery of the party rather than joining in, "How is it? Remembering again."

"Not what I expected." Edward sighed.

The initial excitement had worn away, leaving him feeling... odd. If he were honest, he wasn't sure how he felt. Only that it was unpleasant, kind of heavy and anxious at the same time. He should be happy. He was, but not entirely.

"Good or bad?" Lucius inquired.

"Haven't decided yet." Edward tried for light, not really wanting to admit the truth and sour the mood.

"Hmmm, well, give it some time." Lucius reassured, patting his shoulder, "It's not so strange to feel that way after everything that's happened."

Somehow, it helped to hear it. Even without Foxy knowing the full of it, he managed to assuage some of Edward's guilt. Maybe it wasn't wrong he felt the way he did. Happiness could come later and that was okay. Hearing someone he trusted say so was comforting even if it couldn't dispel the feeling entirely.

"Thank you." Edward smiled at him, "Y'know, you should have been a therapist. You really are good at it."

"You could be right." Lucius chuckled, "Keep coming to me for advice, and I might just start charging."

Edward laughed at that. Then startled slightly when they were interrupted.

"Pardon me." Oswald said, elbowing his way in between them, "I'll be stealing Eddie away for a while."

"Not at all." Lucius nodded.

"Please," Oswald grinned through his teeth, "Enjoy the rest of the party."

Then he sauntered away, tugging Edward with him towards the bar. Oswald poured himself a drink, downed it and poured another. Edward couldn't see Oswald's expression, but he could read everthing in his body language. He chuckled.

"Do you think you'll ever stop getting jealous of Foxy?"

"Not so long as you call him that." Oswald grumbled, stalking away, glass in hand.

Edward halted him, causing Oswald to stop mid-stride and nearly spill his beverage. Oswald muttered curses under his breath. But when Edward pulled his reluctant husband back to himself and nuzzled into his neck, Oswald couldn't help but melt.

"You have nothing to be jealous of." Edward told him.

"I know." Oswald murmured, "I can't help being a little possessive. Old habits die hard."

"At least you've never had the misfortune of being jealous of our son." Edward groaned, casting a glance in the young man's direction as they resumed walking.

"True!" Oswald laughed.

They made their way outside for fresh air and a quiet space to talk. Oswald swallowed the rest of his drink and set it aside, as Edward took in Gotham's night sky. In a city like theirs, there were never any stars. The glow of city lights served as poor replacements to some, but to Edward it looked like home.

"God, I've missed this."

"What?" Edward tilted his head curiously.

He watched Oswald waiting for a reply. The man appeared to be searching the inky black sky for the answer. He must have found it because he dropped his gaze back to Edward, locking eyes with him.

"I guess I missed just being on the same page. Being understood and accepted. You know me better than anyone else, all my faults and weaknesses. Even the things I can't share with Martin because he's my child. You know it all now. You remember." Oswald said, voice a tad wobbly by the end, "I really missed that."

Edward felt the swirl of guilt again. Guilt that he wasn't on the same page. Because Oswald seemed so happy and Edward didn't share it with him.

"Eddie? What's wrong?" Oswald furrowed his brow, "Something's been troubling you all night. Don't think I didn't notice."

"You're right." Edward exhaled, "I'm sorry, Oswald. I'm ruining the party."

"Nonsense." Oswald stopped him, "Everyone's having a great time. It's okay if you're still not feeling fully yourself. Acceptance goes both ways."

After a moment, he added, "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Edward struggled to put it into words.

"Before this morning, I didn't know if my past would ever be restored to me, but for the most part I'd accepted that and moved on." He swallowed, "Remembering... it brought everything back up. Now I know the gravity of what I almost lost. How easily it all nearly slipped away. I couldn't really understand that before."

"You're afraid it could happen again?"

"I'm mortified it happened at all!" Edward gripped his hair, "I should've been able to stop it."

"And you did!" Oswald said firmly, "We're here now because you didn't succumb to our enemies' plots. Despite the odds stacked against you, you outwitted them and you remembered."

"Oswald, I could have lost you!" Edward gritted his teeth.

Oswald gently loosened his fingers' hold and took Edward's hands from his head. He held them in his own and soothed him with gentle caresses of his thumbs. Then he caught Edward's eye to be sure he was heard.

"Not even if you tried." Oswald told him, "And I have the scars to prove it."

Edward let out a feeble laugh.

"I mean it." Oswald insisted, "You did what none of the others could. You figured out what was going on and solved it even without your memories intact. And we defeated our enemies together because of it. I couldn't have done that without you."

"What if I had hurt you?" Edward croaked, emotions breeching the wall he'd hoped would contain them.

Oswald shook his head and said, "Through it all, despite Sofia's manipulations, you came back to me everytime. Even when you believed the worst about me, somehow you made the choices that saved us. You were never in danger of losing me, Eddie. Not through any action of your own. Our love was stronger than their schemes and you proved that. Do you have any idea how incredible that is?"

Edward pulled a hand out of Oswald's gentle hold to wipe at the moisture gathering in his eyes.

"I remember all the things I said to you in the beginning. When I initially forgot, that first night when you came to get me from Arkham... I was cruel to you. I wanted to hurt you, and I know I did. Then I suggested divorce and left..."

"It was no fault of your own," Oswald reiterated, "but that's already forgiven."

"I know. It's just..."

"You're thinking too much." Oswald whispered, leaning up on tip toe and kissing his cheek, "Be with me now."

Now.

Now.

Not future nor past. Just right now. Just as he had been doing through it all. Remembering changed some things. Made some things harder, most things better, but it didn't change the most important things. He couldn't help falling in love with Oswald. It was fated. In all life's uncertainties, it was the one thing he could count on. He knew that now. And right now, they were also together.

Oswald was with him, leaning into his space, pressing kisses to his cheek, and stroking the other with his fingers. He was happy and safe. He was beautiful and his. What more could Edward ask for? Being the greedy man he was, he decided Oswald's lips for starters. He would see where the rest of the night took them. He wouldn't think of it now. Choosing to be in this moment, he held onto Oswald and pulled him into his kiss.