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When it came to matters of the heart, as much as he tried to be cold and logical, Edward Nygma was (not so) secretly soft and needy. He was also very, very unlucky when it came to love and affection, and relationships; most of which had been a disaster, but all of them ended in heartache.
Those ten long years locked away in Arkham weren’t wasted, he’d had plenty of time to lament and agonise over his past mistakes. He liked to tell the psychiatrists that he was regretting all the crimes he’d committed, and apologising for all the deaths he’d caused, and repenting for all the chaos he’d orchestrated; apart from Doctor Quinzel, she was brighter and sharper than any of the others gave her credit for. No, the past mistakes he was talking about all involved his mishaps with finding love and keeping it.
He wasn’t angry with Oswald about Isabella anymore, he’d had a decade to come to terms with the fact that he was right, it had been too well timed and destroyed them perfectly. Almost identical to his first victim, she was quirky and loved riddles and… It was like she was made for him, because she probably had been. Then between the jealousy of The Penguin and the wrath of The Riddler, nothing stood a chance, least of all their friendship after a betrayal like that.
Ed liked to think he knew better now, he was older and wiser. He hadn’t known what love was or how it should look, he’d never been shown much of it growing up and never had the greatest examples. His parents were distant from himself and each other; no TV to watch but plenty of books and comics he’d stolen, of beautiful women falling in love with handsome heroes. That had been his first mistake, wanting to be a hero. He did know this:
Kristen hadn’t been love, she was obsession.
Isabella hadn’t been love, she was nostalgia.
Lee hadn't been love, she was desperation.
Ed let himself be used and abused for the sake of love, allowed himself to be taken advantage of and manipulated again and again in the hopes that it would make them love him as much as he loved them. He did his best, with his riddles and his methods of showing them with his love language, but it was either not enough or too much. He wouldn’t admit to anyone that he was starved for physical affection, but he longed to be a tactile person
Truth be told, out of all of his relationships, he thought there was really only one person in all of Gotham that actually understood him and his vision… Only one person in all of the city that he truly loved.
Oswald Cobblepot, notorious ex-mayor and full-time criminal, was his present and his future.
He was a man who worked hard for what he wanted, fought tooth and nail - beak and claw - for what he knew he deserved. It was obviously admirable, it had been one of the things to attract him to the arctic bird, but he never realised he felt romantically towards him until it was too late. Like most things in his life, he realised the important things after the fact.
Love was about sacrifice, but not complete sacrifice; it isn’t about giving yourself up wholly for someone else. Your needs and happiness shouldn’t come at the cost of someone else’s, the relationship should be about your partner being an equal to you and vice versa. He had never been an equal, just a means.
Kristen seen him as her white knight, not her boyfriend.
Isabella seen him as her possession, not her soulmate.
Lee seen him as a tool to be used, not her partner.
Who had loved him unconditionally all this time? Oswald.
Oswald was selfish and manipulative and explosive, he didn’t let people stand in his way. At the same time though, he would give Ed the world if he asked him to. He threatened the warden of Arkham to let him out, gave him clothes and a home and a job. Oswald looked at him like he’d hung the moon and stars in the sky, like he could do no wrong. The King of Gotham accepted all of him, flaws and quirks and riddles, and still fell in love with him.
Looking at his past relationships (Kristen and Isabella), it’s understandable why Ed didn’t realise that Oswald was in love with him, he’s never been loved for just being himself.
Oswald saw him as a close friend and ally, as someone he could trust in his home and with his possessions. He trusted him with his campaign and his secrets, and trusted him to help him run the Underworld of Gotham. Ozzie gave Ed all he could, and the Master of Riddles didn’t know how to cope with the adoration; he'd never been admired and loved so irrevocably before.
Edward felt like an idiot for a few years into his sectioning at Arkham, thinking that Oswald didn’t love him anymore because he hadn’t heard from the other - not even one stinking letter. He quickly learned he wasn’t even allowed the newspaper, so he definitely wasn’t going to receive any mail; anything addressed to him was probably tossed as soon as it was delivered. The smarter avenue would be to tuck the hypothetical letters away into a blackmail folder, just in case Oswald had been so foolish as to include anything incriminating in his writing.
Admittedly he would change a few things, granted it got him to the same place he currently was, curled up in bed with a sleeping Oswald snoring softly into his chest. It had been a surprise for him to find out that Van Dahl manor was still in excellent condition, Oswald making sure it was taken care of and maintained in his absence, sitting vacant and waiting for their return like an old acquaintance.
He couldn’t imagine himself being anywhere else; where would he want to be? He couldn’t see himself ever finding someone else who just got him the way Oswald did, who took his riddles and quirks and obsessions in stride. Edward worshipped him in return.
As Gertrud Kapelput once said, life only gave you one true love, and her words were like gospel to Oswald. No matter what happens, he would always have Ed by his side. In sickness and in health, till death do they part.
Maybe not even then.