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Oswald wasn't feeling great.
Ever since that day at the bank, he felt his whole personality had transformed. He had started losing weight again, which wouldn't have been as bizarre as it was common for patients in Arkham Asylum to lose considerable weight. Nevertheless, it was alarming to the individuals who knew him when he was discharged and resumed getting slimmer.
People had picked up on his newfound eating patterns, the most memorable time being when Victor Fries questioned him about his lack of eating and increased sulking around the place.
Everyone knew the reason for The Penguin's sudden depression, yet none understood. Oswald couldn't even count on his fingers the number of times he had been proposed something like, "it has been a year; it's time to get over it."
How was he supposed to get over it? Edward had been the only person who undoubtedly saw him as himself. They'd gambled their lives for each other. Not only that, but he was not entirely used to anyone close to him passing away from tragic deaths. After every death, the end of his mother, father, Martin, and now Edward, he persuaded himself after each time that there was no possible way to hurt him by killing anyone he loved, as he had no one left. However, he was proven mistaken every time.
The Iceberg Lounge had maintained in business during his absence, yet Oswald could not find the energy to oversee it himself once he was back. He thought about it all as he lay in the bed he formerly shared with Edward. His hand trailed over the side of the mattress Ed usually slept on. He secretly hoped he'd feel the warmth and the past year and a half had all been a dream and that when traveling downstairs, he would be greeted by Edward and a lavish breakfast.
He sighed. He knew that wouldn't happen.
"You should stop mopin' about, ya know?" A high, female voice from the doorway spoke, and Oswald sighed.
Turning to look at the door, he saw Harley standing there wearing her usual clown-like attire, in the color pallet of black and blood red, with her hair tied into two messy pigtails, leaning against the doorframe, "What're you doing in my bedroom, Harley?"
The woman grinned, "Gettin' ya outta the house!"
With a whine, Oswald dug his face into his pillow and shut his eyes, "Goodbye, Harley. Close the door on your way out." He shot, hoping it'd fend her off.
Unfortunately, it didn't; the next thing he knew, he was being hauled out of bed by two sets of strong arms. He sighed. He didn't even have to open his eyes to know that Ivy was with her.
Oswald opened his eyes as he was hoisted into a chair and watched as Harley went over to his closet to find something for Oswald to dress into, "Your style is atrocious, Pengy!" Harley exclaimed as she flicked through an abundance of dress shirts and waistcoats. Eventually, she decided on some simple black pants and a black dress shirt, explaining how he shouldn't go out in anything too flashy, to which he responded with a remark about how he didn't need to with what she and Ivy were wearing. That earned him an elbow to the back, "Put 'cha clothes on now."
"While you're in here?" Oswald frowned and rolled her eyes, dragging herself and Ivy from the room. Slowly, he changed into the clothes, even going so far as to go to the mirror and do his hair and make his eyes look less tired with make-up. If he was going outside for the first time in months, he might as well make it worthwhile.
Once he was finished, he exited the room. Ivy and Harley stood out in the corridor, lingering and chattering animatedly to each other, Ivy demonstrating something to the other using her thick red hair.
Upon detecting Oswald's arrival, Harley grinned, "There's my Penguin! Lookin' fresh as ever, Mista." She sprang over to him, taking his hand in hers to yank him toward the front door, "Ivy and I put together a nice day for ya. We hope it ain't too much."
"That's fine."
"Wonderful!"
She swiftly led them all outside.
——
Oswald blinked tears away as he stood in front of the stone in the expansive patch of grass where Edward had been buried.
This wasn't much what he had expected from today, he had hoped for a care-free outing that would pass his feelings of grief away, yet here he was. The first half of the day had been lovely, and it was nice that the two girls had put all the time and effort into something just for Oswald. It seemed his public appearance after some time had also surprised the citizens of Gotham, as there wasn't a moment where he wasn't being stared at or swarmed. It had even gotten to the point Harley had to threaten someone to leave the three of them alone so that they could continue their quiet lunch at a small downtown restaurant Oswald used to adore for the particular reason that it had been Edward's favorite place. Now that Oswald had thought about it, Ivy and Harley had taken him to all the places he and Edward had loved together before Edward's unfortunate demise. All the stumbling around Gotham State Park and sipping on warm coffees at a small coffee shop owned by someone Edward had known during his school years all lead to one place– Edward's grave.
He crouched in front of the gravestone, taking in the carvings on the front as Harley and Ivy stayed a little further behind to give him space. This was the first time he visited the grave, and it shocked him, to say the least.
The stone was beautiful, made of white marble-like material with Edward's full name carved delicately into the front along with his date of birth to death, a riddle Ed himself had said before about the beauty of death, and a small question mark at the bottom. Oswald was glad Edward had a piece of himself above his grave. It was a lovely sight.
Despite all the pain Oswald had felt in the past year, he felt some form of relief wash over him as he looked over the grave. All the days of laying in bed unable to move, starving himself, and putting himself through physical and mental pain to feel something finally felt worth it now that he was sitting in front of the grave of the man he loved. After all his time of grieving, he finally felt as if Edward was with him, and suddenly he felt sorrowful that he hadn't visited sooner.
A sob escaped him as he looked over Edward's name. Once they married, Edward and Oswald had agreed on a double-barreled name, despite knowing they'd still refer to themselves as their birth names. Though through death, their shared name was written along the gravestone, and it made Oswald's heart pulsate.
"I am so sorry, Eddie," He spoke softly to the grave, rubbing his hand over the smooth rock that someone had cleansed regularly, he assumed due to its pristine state, "For everything, getting you into this mess and not visiting. I wish I had come sooner, truly." He tilted his head to the sky and noticed the light fading as clouds covered the vast sky above them. It looked as if it was about to rain. Oswald smiled.
He looked down to the grave, "I miss you, honestly. I don't think I can properly function without you… I haven't been able to do anything without you," He paused to swallow back a sob, "But I think I'll try. I know you'd want me to live a normal life even without you, so I will try. I'll visit once a week, I think." He felt the tears start streaming again and had to hold his hands against his face to calm himself, "I'm so sorry. Fuck, I'm so so sorry."
Seconds later, he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Harley looking down at him with a sad smile, "We should go, Ozzie. It looks as if it might rain." She jolted her head up to the sky.
Oswald looked up before returning to Edward, "Can we stay for a little longer, please? I know Eddie used to love the rain…." He smiled sadly at the thought, "I used to always have to force him into a raincoat so he wouldn't get sick when we went out into the garden to sit in the rain. He'd always have to get me to dry off his glasses because of all the rain specs and his poor eyesight. Then he'd make us cocoa while I lit the fire and changed clothes…."
For a moment, the two sat silently looking at the grave, Oswald tipping his head to lay on his friend's shoulder as she gently rubbed circles on his back. It wasn't much like Oswald to let anyone be affectionate with him, especially not someone such as Harley, but even he knew a time like this meant for it.
The rain started falling in a slight drizzle around them, dampening their hair and clothes as they sat with no obvious sign of moving any time soon. Oswald's tears mixed with the rain, which was getting increasingly more assertive by the minute, and his eyes stayed trained on Edward's grave.
He turned to Ivy, "Couldn't you have done something to save him?" His question sounded harsh, there was an edge to the way he spoke and some form of spite in his voice, "You did the same to me. Why couldn't you have done it for him?"
Ivy looked shocked due to the question. Anyone would've been after being queried during a quiet moment, "Oswald– I didn't even know about his death until a week later. It would've been far too late anyway. And how would you explain to the GCPD that the man they killed miraculously was still alive? It would have been impossible." She explained, feeling bad for the other as his face became one of sorrow once more, "I'm sorry, Oswald."
He nodded, looking down at the grave, "It's fine. I'm sorry for asking that. It's not like much could have been done." His eyes traveled down to the grass beneath him, "Twelve shots to a man's torso would surely lead to an unavoidable death."
From beside Oswald, Harley flinched, "Twelve? The GCPD are crazy! They only reported five or the 'em and claimed it was for self-defense." She said, frowning at the absurdity.
Oswald laughed, though there was no humor to it, and was filled with just pure guilt, "He did it to protect me. We didn't even have anything on us that could kill. I went out just as they shot, and Edward jumped in. God, I wish I had stayed in our little hiding place. We would have both been sent to Black Gate, but I would have preferred that over Edward being killed any day." He explained, his eyes squeezing shut as he spoke, standing abruptly from his seat as he finished speaking, Harley's arm falling from his shoulders during the process, "I'd like to go home. Please."
"O'course."
——
Once the three entered Oswald's home, soaked through their attire and miserable from the chafing the wet clothing caused or the running of make-up down their face and the cold they were subjected to.
Quickly, Oswald moved to the upstairs bedroom to change his clothes while Ivy and Harley said they'd change downstairs using the spare clothes they brought with them.
As Oswald entered his room, he slowed in pace, making his way over to his bed and sitting. He couldn't care whether or not his sheets became soaked with the rainwater that clung to his body. He cared more for all the emotions he was feeling right now. His mind felt clouded as if his brain had been cut into pieces with thick fragments of frosted glass dividing each sector.
He wasn't one hundred percent sure what exactly he was feeling. Maybe loss and sorrow? Or maybe acceptance. Finally, Oswald realized that wishing for Edward back and mourning was really doing nothing for him nor the legacy Ed had built. He realized he had to change.
How could he be the king of Gotham if he was hiding in the shadows, unwilling to come out?
Deciding he should change and get back downstairs to Harley and Ivy before making any stupid decisions, he swiftly stood from where he sat, walking as fast as his poorly cared-for leg could to his drawers to pull out some simple clothes to get into.
Once out of his sopping wet clothes that insisted on sticking to his skin, he changed into new undergarments, a gray shirt, and black pants, using a make-up wipe from his vanity desk to wipe any running make-up from his face before going downstairs.
Once he reached the living room, he was instantly hit with the warm air produced by the fireplace that Ivy was standing in front of, chucking small logs in to stoke it.
With a deep inhale and after wiping his eyes, Oswald traveled further into the room to sit on one of the deep-red plush couches. Before now, Oswald had avoided the couches as they reminded him every day of the color of Edward's suit as the man's blood-soaked through into it, but now he realized that the shade was off. The color was now more connected to Oswald's memories of staying up late into the night with Edward, drinking red wine while sharing past memories, or the mass amounts of red grapes Edward used to snack on. He smiled at the thought.
"Someone's mood's brightened," Harley spoke as she strolled into the room, setting a black mug of hot chocolate, topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, onto a coaster on the coffee table.
Oswald nodded, staring at the mug. The cup was one he had bought for Edward one day, he remembered walking through the streets of the Gotham market at trinkets and doo-dads, and Edward had pointed out this mug. At first, Oswald hadn't really noticed anything special about it. Still, Edward was insistent on explaining that it was one of those color-changing mugs that changed colors depending on the temperature of the liquid inside. Edward then went on a tangent about the science behind it and how it intrigued him but cut his ramble short when he noticed Oswald wasn't really listening and grew self-conscious. Oswald had honestly been thinking about coming back later in the day to buy the mug as a gift for Edward as he knew how much Edward loved making hot coffees and iced teas, and it would have been a perfect addition to their mug cabinet. Later in the day, while Edward got caught talking with one of the shop owners, Oswald snuck away and bought the mug, hiding it in the depths of his bag and giving it to Edward a week later as his birthday gift. Oswaldclearly remembers the look in Ed's eyes as he realized that Oswald had taken into account the things that Edward rambled about and the excitement he had shown when he first saw the mug at that little store. The memory was sweet.
Oswald was bought out of his thoughts by Ivy's voice, "Oswald." Was all she said to bring him back to reality, and he smiled at the memory as he picked his cup up.
"Wassup?" Harley questioned, looking at both the affectionate smile on his face and the tears in his eyes as she sat beside him, leaning around to look him in the eyes, "Talk to us."
Oswald shrugged, bringing his cup up to his face to lick up some of the cream, "Nothing much. It's just that before today everything I looked at reminded me of Edward, always in a negative way. Now, it just makes me feel happy about our time together, you know, that we even got to spend time together and make memories...." He took a sip of his hot drink and recoiled slightly at the heat, Harley giggling from his side at the cream that had clung to Oswald's nose. She leaned up to wipe it away with her hand before Oswald thanked her and continued, "I miss him so much, but I think I may be finally ready to go about my life. The Penguin needs to make a return, more even than Oswald. For Edward."
Ivy and Harley smiled at the words and nodded, "For Edward." They both spoke in unison.