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Oswald couldn't even tell Ed he'd miss him before leaving him behind. It felt like some sort of karma. For refusing to admit such to Oswald the first time they were at this pier. He said it before leaving him behind though, even if only to a hallucination. Ed gripped the dog leash. Maybe Edward was Oswald's version of that. It still felt like everyone got their three words but him. Oswald didn't even say it back when Ed thought he was talking to him. Then he remembered Oswald didn't get the three words he wanted either.
"Oswald!" His legs moved him forward. "Oswald!" Ed grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. Ed's mouth opened but no sound came out. Oswald sighed. "Ed-" Whatever he was about to say was cut off by Ed's lips. Ed didn't know what he was doing, other than that he was following his heart like Oswald said. Oswald started to lean in and Ed's heart soared. Then he abruptly pulled away.
"Out of everything you've done to me, this is the most cruel," Oswald echoed the words Ed told him when he thought he messed with his brain. His hands were still on Ed's chest from when he lightly pushed him away. The defensive stance reminded him of his own when Oswald confessed his feelings. The contact added a layer of intimacy Ed had refused him. "Of all the ways to manipulate me to go…" "I…" There were supposed to be more words, but it was like they were stuck in Ed's mind. A truly terrible place to be. "I'm staying to fight for Gotham," Oswald reiterated. "That's my choice whether you approve or not." With that, he spun on his heel and continued to walk away. Ed felt like his heart had been pulled from his chest with Oswald's hands.
Ed stood there until Oswald had disappeared. He still half expected Oswald to come around, he always did. Ed had taken it for granted before, over and over. Now there was nothing he wanted more. He always wanted that, if he was honest with himself. He was being honest with himself at that moment. There's an unfortunate side effect of knowing what your heart wants; you feel it break when you don't get it. Oswald must've felt this so many times. Some of his latest words echoed in Ed's mind. "Can we really be so cavalier about the destruction of Gotham?" "Maybe you'd learn something if you listened to this instead of this!" He wanted Ed to stay with him. Ed was insistent on leaving, so he let him go.
He looked at the submarine he spent nine months on, filled with riches. He walked back towards it and picked up the dog leash. "Better tie you to a post, Oswald will be very upset if anything happens to you," he told the dog. He did so and set off. If following his heart felt like Oswald's lips and smelled like his scent, then maybe it had some merit.
"Thirty-one," Ed corrected as he entered. His head thought that wasn't a great number either when facing a huge army. However, following his heart was seeming more and more appealing. Apparently it looked like the shocked smile on Oswald's face, and the spark in his eyes. Still he couldn't bring himself to look into them as he continued. "Ditto on that blood and concrete thing," he told him. The only part of this place he cared about was the bits of Oswald embedded in it. He'd be damned if anyone was gonna take that away. "I kinda like this city the way it is." He liked all the parts of Oswald, even when they tied him to a war zone. Gotham was Oswald's home and Oswald was Ed's.
Ed stared at the red lense glasses in his hands, illuminated by the fireplace. They reminded him of Miss Kringle's glasses. "When I look at these, I don't feel sadness anymore," he had told Oswald after their second meeting. Meanwhile there he was, sad from looking at Oswald's glasses when he hadn't even died. He stroked his thumb over the cracked lense.
Oswald had thanked him as he slipped the glasses back on his face. Ed swiped the glasses because he had still been so scared Oswald wasn't gonna survive. He elected not to tell him that though. He didn't wanna scare him, and then it became clear he was gonna live. This time Ed not getting to keep the glasses was a good thing. With the last pair it was because he caused Kristen's death. Much the same could be said if Oswald had died, but he would've gotten to keep these glasses. He wondered if he even deserved to keep them in that case. He felt rather unworthy. But it didn't matter, Oswald was keeping his glasses because he survived. He survived, he survived, he survived-
"Ed?" Oswald said tentatively as he sat next to him on the couch. Ed's head snapped up. He hadn't heard him get up from bed. He was looking at Ed's hands. "You're bleeding," he told him. He looked back down and saw he was right. He lifted his left thumb, it was cut by the lense and there was some blood. "I'm fine," he wiped it on his pants. "Why are you up? How's your eye?" He placed his hand on Oswald's face and observed the bandage. It covered the wound perfectly, but Ed could still see the gruesome injury it hid. "It-it's fine," Oswald answered dismissively. Ed knew he probably didn't hide his reaction well when he first saw it. It's hard to hide a gag. It wasn't a logical response, he was a forensic scientist and a killer. Oswald asking if it looked bad wasn't exactly logical either, but he probably just wanted some reassurance. Ed tried to provide that in telling him it was just a scratch, but his emotions got the better of him. The words for which got stuck in his throat.
His thumb stroked below the bandage absently. Words bubbled just under the surface within him again. "I'm sorry. I-" Ed was silenced by Oswald's lips on his. Oswald pulled back from the kiss, a hint of worry and apprehension in his eyes. The look lured the words out of Ed's mouth. "I love you," he told him. Ed had a history of denying himself things followed by heavy indulgence when repression stopped working. So it made sense that this would be the same. "I love you," he replaced his thumb with his lips. "I love you," he pecked another kiss on his lips. "I love you," he kissed the tip of his nose. Oswald's uninjured eye welled up with tears, Ed caught them in his kisses as they fell. He felt his own hands shake; reminiscent of how they had shaken while wrapped around his gun. Oswald had a way of making him feel so strongly he had to express it physically if nothing else. He wanted to express it in every way possible. "Oswald," he breathed as he nuzzled Oswald's face.
Oswald pulled him away a little, and Ed tried to tamper down the whimper that rose from his throat. He briefly worried that he was too late, but then Oswald pulled him into another kiss. Ed didn't try to stop his needy noises this time. He slid his arms around Oswald's back and leaned forward.
Crack.
"Oops," Ed held up the forgotten glasses, both lenses now cracked. "Don't need those anyway," Oswald said. They both chuckled. "Yeah," Ed tossed the glasses aside. He leaned down his head on Oswald's chest. The heart that almost stopped beating now pounded under his ear, all for him. He didn't need the glasses indeed. Oswald survived. His hands stroked Ed's shoulder blades soothingly. He missed this. He never could replace it. Holding onto keepsakes didn't feel the same. Neither did drug induced hallucinations, or Lee. Taking a submarine full of treasure to the mainland certainly wouldn't have been able to compare.
"So, does this mean you were lying about your reasoning for staying?" Oswald asked cheekily. "Lying is a strong word. What I said was true. Gotham is far better off in your hands than people who lack vision," Ed insisted. "I also plan on making this city fear the Riddler. Starting with the GCPD, specifically the ones who left us behind after the grenade," he added. Oswald hummed. "I'd expect nothing less."
Ed planned to rip out Harvey Bullock's eye- no, his colleagues' eyes. Make him feel what it's like to fail who you're supposed to protect. He'd incorporate riddles into it, every time Harvey failed to answer it would cost an eye. One riddle immediately came to mind; I can't be bought but I can be stolen with a glance, I'm worthless to one but priceless to two, what am I?
Love. The reason he stayed in this wretched city. The reason he protected it like it was his heart, when truthfully his heart was the man who refused to leave Gotham behind.
"When did you start to believe I was being honest at the pier?" Ed asked him in turn. "I decided to consider it when I was clutching my wounded eye. Funny how something like a grenade puts things into perspective," he answered. "It does," Ed tightened his arms around Oswald's middle.