Archive of Our Own

‘Gordons don’t cry.’

A phrase his father uttered to him ever since he was a child, young and stupid. His father would always teach him to be strong in the face of danger and don’t let anyone see his weakness.

The hands of his father molded him to be emotionally hardened, the hands that held his shoulder tightly, squeezed it as he cried like a toddler, told him repeatedly to dry his tears because he’s not a girl, and he’s not a—

“Do you want to be like one of them, boy?” His father had asked once, after using a vile word that was created from hatred and disgust.

Jim was young, he was eight and could only shake his head, scared.

Later that night, he was down on his knees, on the floor of his bedroom, facing his bed, hands clumped together shakily, barely holding on to each other as he begs to the night sky, hoping the star that is up there watching little humans would forgive him for acting so softly.

‘Mask it.’ Jim would tell himself repeatedly after that. When he felt like his soul was breaking apart, he would tell himself again and again, over and over until his white lies became lies.

And he was fine.

He is fine.

He survived decades of being a Gordon and survived serving in the army, so he couldn’t ask for more. Now, he’s a detective at the GCPD, meaning that every second of his life was in danger, so not wearing his heart on his sleeves was the best solution for him.

Because Gordons are supposed to be strong— men are supposed to be strong.

Men were supposed to be strong and provide for their lovers. In this case, Barbara. He and Barbara have been dating for years now, proposing to her, and seeing her smile with such happiness as tears running down her face makes him happy.

Barbara hugged Jim and said ‘I do, of course, I do.’ as she laughed.

He hugged her back, and he felt warm and right.

He was clean.

There was a hole in Jim’s chest as he hugged her, like there was something missing— but it can't be. He has everything. Respected career, future, love.

Then what was missing?

“Guess what this is?” A voice had chimed in once, dangling an evidence bag in front of him and his new partner.

Tall and lanky, his hair is neatly groomed, and he has glasses and a bright excited smile on his face. The smile was bright as if there was no pain in the world.

Edward Nygma.

He had heard that name once or twice. First was when they were introducing the staff at his workplace. Nygma was the forensic scientist, the only one in GCPD. The taller man had greeted him with the same toothy smile when they first met each other, smiling with an edge of shyness on his face.

With hesitation, the man had slowly extended his hand, Jim had flickered his gaze down before he held it.

Nygma smiled with satisfaction.

Jim smiled back with hesitation.

The second he heard the name Edward Nygma uttered was when he was amongst his other colleagues, their tongues sharp like a dagger as the name Edward Nygma echoed through their mouths.

If Jim was younger, seventeen, eighteen maybe— he would’ve joined them.

When Nygma showed them the evidence bag, He could feel Bullock's irritation at the forensic scientist.

Apparently, Nygma had found a .45 caliber cupronickel wadcutter, which came right out of Thomas Wayne’s chest.

Jim narrowed his gaze down as he looked at the evidence bag, before grabbing the bag.

Nygma then tried to ask him something before Harvey interrupted the other man.

“Ah, ah, ah! Don't ask,” He pointed a finger. “Just tell.”

Nygma frowned slightly and Jim's eyes flickered down to his lips for a moment.

Nygma answered Bullock's question with a sheepish tone, telling him that it was from a pistol not known by their database.

“What else you got?” Bullock asked.

And then, in a heartbeat, Nygma smiled with excitement, his face lit up and his eyes shining like a little kid.

Jim could only look at him.

“What’s nowhere, but everywhere, except when something is?" Nygma smiled, all toothy and looked at Bullock.

Nowhere can be considered to be everywhere, the air, the sky, the streets, until something was placed there, so—

“—Nothing,” Jim answered, eyes flickered to Ed, and their eyes made contact. He was met with dark brown widened eyes staring back at him with such amazement, the man’s mouth slightly agape.

He was staring at Jim with those dark brown eyes that somehow shone a shade brighter.

His hardened blue eyes could do nothing but stare again.

Bullock made a mean comment, and he should have said something but he was walking away then.

He could still feel those gazes staring at him like no one ever.

Edward Nygma was different.

That was the first conclusion he had come up with ever since he had met the man.

He was nothing like the other men at the GCPD. From how he speaks, how he carries himself, and how he looks at others.

Nygma speaks in a tone that is sheepish but eager to help, sometimes too excited. Fidgeting with his fingers when he gets nervous, and he always comes up with riddles.

Jim had found it odd at first.

The other officers would agree with him, but they would speak with such malice when the subject was brought up.

From what Jim understands— Nygma merely wanted to help in his own way, maybe it was inconvenient how he would answer questions with riddles, but hell as if Jim doesn't have to deal with something worse every other day.

“In my cup, there lies a swirl, Of minutes and hours in a whirl. Morning, noon, or night, I keep the moments tight. What am I?” Nygma asked Jim one day.

Jim was sitting at his desk, head buried in paperwork from the latest case. He looked up to see Nygma standing there, sheepish and smiling.

Jim raised his eyebrow and blinked.

“Coffee..?” Jim asked in return, and Nygma smiled even wider somehow. The man nodded his head. “You’ve been working for far too long, I suggested a coffee break, Detective!”

And Jim looked at him with so much confusion, he felt stupid.

When there was no response from him, Nygma blushed slightly from embarrassment, darting his eyes away from Jim for a moment.

“You should take a break.” He said with a softer tone this time, hands clasped together hanging in front of his torso.

Jim would lie if it didn't make Jim smile a bit.

“Thank you for the suggestion, Nygma.” He let himself relax for the first time.

Nygma seemed to relax too before he nodded his head and strolled away.

Jim’s eyes followed the man until he couldn't see him anymore.

If Jim were to be honest, he kind of liked the riddles.

But riddles aside, Nygma was still odd.

Too odd to be someone who works at GCPD.

Too bright to be working in a place that’s an embodiment of darkness.

A thought crept into Jim’s mind— a dirty thought. It was just for a second, maybe even less, but it was enough for Jim to clutch his own hands and want to clean his body.

Gordons don't cry, just like how Gordons aren't filthy.

He’s not dirty.

“Jimbo?” Gruff's voice interrupted his thought thankfully— he turned to look at Harvey, who had just come back from berating some poor intern.

Jim's eyes were still slightly widened.

“I— yeah?” He said.

Harvey squinted his eyes and cocks his head down as if trying to figure out if Jim was high or not.

“Man, you okay?” Harvey asked.

“Fine,” Jim answered, his hand swiftly brushing through his blonde buzzed hair. “Y'know— paperwork.” He shrugged.

Harvey snorted and Jim relaxed once again.

“You don't have to tell me twice.” Harvey huffed out a sigh before slumping himself into his own chair.

Jim flickered his gaze up to Harvey.

“Paperwork.” He deadpanned and Harvey laughed, loud and brash— masculine.

Jim relaxed again, feeling less dirty.

And Jim was fine.

Somehow along the line of work, Nygma became Ed. He found himself enjoying the company of the forensic scientist more than any other men in here. If Jim were to be honest, Jim thinks he doesn’t actually like any other men here aside from Harvey.

And Ed.

His inside told him to befriend the other men here because doesn’t he want to be with them? Be with those who are hardened, loud— not soft. Those who would make Jim not weak and dirty.

Jim contemplated that question over and over, the question ran through his head, and its echo sounded too similar to his father.

“Detective?” A shy voice cut through Jim’s train of thinking and he was reminded that he was in the break room, facing down the dry sandwich in his hand as he sat on one of the uncomfortable steel benches.

Jim flickered his gaze up, seeing Ed stare at him with caution. The man was sitting on another bench facing Jim, his hands holding some Chinese takeout, beside Ed, there was a half-eaten cinnamon roll laid down on a paper plate.

“Yes?” Jim was too lost in his own thoughts that he had forgotten that He was eating lunch with Ed. The forensic scientist had asked Jim something— Jim wasn’t listening, so he could only blink in confusion as he continued to look at Ed. A part of him had expected Ed to give him a disapproving look like how his other co-workers would give him when was being stubborn and maybe way too righteous.

Instead, Ed gave him a soft smile and repeated himself.

Too soft for a man— An echo inside Jim whispered.

He took a small breath.

“I asked wouldn’t you rather be having lunch with Detective Bullock?” Ed asked.

“Uh, nah…” Jim let out the breath he was holding and shrugged. “He’s busy with some other stuff right now.” Blue eyes gazed away from Ed, looking down at the sandwich instead.

“Ah…” Ed hummed, nodding in understanding. “What about the others then?” Ed tilted his head.

Jim felt like there was a lump in his throat, one he quite could not swallow or choke out.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Ed,” He forced out a weak laugh. “I don’t think they like me that much.”

It’s true. He had seen those glares. Eyes watching Jim as Jim walked down the precinct, daggers and mockery in their gaze, only because he cared. Cared about their city, cared about the people, wanting too much Justice.

Another reason why he probably shouldn't even think about befriending them in the first place. But, oh, wouldn’t it be nice to surround himself with people who would make Jim feel right? Like his skin isn’t easy to shatter like he isn’t covered with filth.

He looked up at Ed again, finding the man to look at him back with such intensity as if he was trying to solve a puzzle that is Jim Gordon. It makes Jim nervous, he can’t lie.

No one had made Jim nervous like this. Not in years— Not even Barbara.

Barbara had seen him in his weak state before. He hated it so much because she had not only seen him weak once but too many times.

She would look at him with tired eyes as she tried to get him to talk to her, her hand giving Jim a gentle squeeze and asking again and again ‘What’s wrong?’ ‘Please talk to me, James.’ ‘Jim, I am your girlfriend. You can tell me what's wrong.’

Last time they had this conversation Jim had choked out a small ‘I can’t.’

Barbara looked worried and she sighed before kissing Jim’s cheek, and leaving him alone.

“Well…” Ed seemed to realize that he had been staring at Jim for far too long, the forensic scientist stumbled upon his word before looking away, face reddened slightly as he choked through the air. “Their loss! I find your company to be very enjoyable.” Ed grinned sheepishly.

Jim went quiet for a moment, and he was thinking of cleaning himself once again.

Scratching the dried mud and dust that clung to his skin away in his mind, he gave Ed a weak smile.

“Me too.” He said, stuffing his mouth with a bite of the sandwich he had forgotten that it was in his hand.

“Really?” Ed asked. Jim could feel Ed's body stiffen slightly, his brows furrowed like Ed was thinking that this was some unfunny joke.

“I mean it,” Jim swallowed the sandwich, yet the lump in his throat remained. “You are… nice, Ed.”

Ed smiled brightly at the comment, brighter than he had shown anyone. His eyes softened and even twinkled as he continued to hold Jim’s gaze. Jim wanted to hide, yet he also wanted to be held by those dark brown gazes for much longer.

“Thank you, Detective.” Ed sounded like he had to contain his excitement.

Jim waved his hand dismissively and shrugged.

“It’s nothing,” Jim answered. “And hey, I told you to call me Jim.”

“Oh, right—” Ed lifted his hand and smacked his forehead softly before letting out an apologetic smile. “Force of habits, sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Jim reassured, giving him another smile, this time, less weak.

They sit in silence, eating their food. It wasn’t comfortable but it also wasn’t uncomfortable as well. Ed finished up his Chinese takeout before going back to eat his half-eaten cinnamon roll— he seemed rather delighted to eat it.

A part of him told him that he should just finish his sandwich quickly and leave someone like Ed alone in the break room, but the part that was his heart told him to stay.

Stay because it feels safe.

And it does— it does feel so safe, yet so wrong.

“Jim,” Ed called his name out. It was the first time he had heard his name rolled out of Ed’s mouth. His voice was so soft when said Jim’s name as if it was fragile and needed care.

He took another breath and let it out.

“Mhm?” He could only let out a low hum, unable to form real words

“The less you have, the more they’re worth.” He smiled, expecting Jim to get the answer right like he knew he would get it right.

“Friends,” Jim answered almost out of breath.

Ed's smiles widened with such admiration, warm like a bonfire that could burn Jim’s skin if he was too close.

Jim smiled back at Ed anyway.

Barbara and Jim had a fight.

He wouldn't tell her what was wrong with him but that's just because there's nothing— nothing, there’s nothing wrong with him.

He insisted on those words and he supposed that Barbara had had enough, she looked at him, her gaze hurt and tired and Jim knew it was his fault.

Then she walked out of their apartment.

Fuck.

Jim played the memory back and back as he slumped himself down onto his chair in the precinct.

Harvey took notice of this because of course— he did.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Harvey asked, he knew that the man’s question was from a place of concern but Jim winced anyway.

“Nothing.” He muttered, darting his gaze away.

“Bullshit.” Harvey snorted before picking up his wrinkled newspaper to read. “What, girl's problem?” He asked.

Jim's throat went dry before turning his head away as his body became stiff. Harvey noticed the silence from Jim’s side, so he put the newspaper back before taking a clear look at Jim.

“So, it is a girl's problem.”

Jim sighed, refusing to look at Harvey still.

“Is it Barbara..?” He asked, more quiet this time.

Jim tried to choke out a ‘no.’ but failed.

“Yes,” He mumbled. “We… had a fight.”

“Shit, Jim— I’m sorry.” Harvey sighed before looking at Jim once again. “But, hey, y’know what they say… There are plenty of fish in the sea.”

Jim gives him a hardened look before shaking his head.

“We didn't break up, Harvey,” And Harvey looked surprised. Jim should probably feel offended. “It's just… a fight, that's all.” He shrugged.

Harvey nodded, and the man went silent for a minute, playing with the pencils on his desk, tapping them against the wooden surface.

“Wanna talk about it?” Harvey asked finally.

Jim stiffened once more, his hands now clutching each other.

“Not really.” He muttered.

Harvey looked at him with doubt but eventually let the subject go.

“If ya say so…” Harvey went back to reading the newspaper.

Jim let out a sigh of relief that he didn't even know that he was holding, but yet, even if he had let it out, it still felt like there were still big boulders resting on his chest.

Time passed at the GCPD like sand slipping through his fingers.

Without him knowing, his shift was ending once again— and Jim knew that if he went back home, Barbara wouldn't be there.

And he felt terrible.

Pushing those thoughts away, he dragged his feet down the hallway to the locker room to pack his stuff up. Opening the door, his eyes were met with a familiar face.

Dark brown eyes, glasses, bright smile like a bonfire.

Ed.

They got closer— Closer than Jim would want because Ed was always too soft, and too warm for Jim. He could always avoid Ed or brush the man out of his hair and his skin anytime he wants but he’s too weak to really do that.

Weak.

His father would’ve shook his head in disapproval.

“Jim, hi!” Ed noticed him and gave him a small wave.

“Ed, hi.” He failed to bite back a smile.

Ed grinned, excited to see Jim. It seems like he was going through his own locker.

“How was your day?” Ed asked.

“Oh, um—” He hesitated, looking around the empty room before giving Ed a firm smile. “Could’ve been worse.”

Ed tilted his head like he wanted to tell Jim something, his lips pursed together, Jim flicked his eyes down, and held his gaze there for a moment before feeling the burning sensation on his skin.

He looked up at Ed once again, the man looked so shy and his gaze was avoiding Jim like he had done something bad.

“I… I heard what happened to you and Ms. Kean.” He mumbled and Jim's body froze. “I— I didn't mean to eavesdrop! I just… happened to hear you and Detective Bullock talk about… about it.” He stuttered and stumbled upon his words, shame came out as he spoke.

Ed looked so guilty like he had spilled and broken a glass of milk down the floor. His hands waver around his body defensively as he tried to not stutter.

He can't find himself to be mad at the other man, it is quite the opposite, he finds that his eyes softened and his body relaxed.

“Ed.” He said calmly and it caught Ed’s attention.

“Yes..?” He adjusted his glasses, looking at Jim nervously.

“It’s okay.” He said and it was true— for some reason, he felt fine, sharing this with Ed. “I’m not mad.”

“You're not?” Ed asked and there was doubt in his eyes.

“No,” Jim gave him a smile to reassure Ed that it was fine.

Jim scratched his head and let out a sigh before he decided to sit down on one of the benches.

“It’s nothing really. We just need… times” He murmured even though he didn't even know if Barbara wanted to reconcile.

God, he’s scared if she doesn't want to.

Ed seemed to be thinking for a moment before sitting down beside Jim, leaving some distance between them.

He looked down for a moment before turning his head to look at Jim.

“Well, um—” He paused. “I may not be qualified to talk about this but I am sure that things will get better for you.” He smiled, awkward yet so genuine and warm.

Jim hates that it feels so warm.

He smiled back nonetheless, shaking his head.

“I am serious!” Ed said suddenly and Jim gave him a curious look “I think that you are… greatly admirable, you are brave and kind.. therefore you deserve to love.”

What Ed said— it makes Jim’s whole body paused, because he doesn't know what to say to that, he can't let out a ‘thank you.’ because he doesn't even think it's true.

“Ed, I’m not—”

“You are not rotten,” Ed said firmly.

Rotten.

If anyone asked Jim right now, he would answer that he feels rotten, his skin dirty and covered with filth, his skin and inside so soft it's disgusting.

There was such softness and fondness in his tone. Jim could only wonder why Ed would give him such kindness.

He looked at Ed, really looking at the man who uttered those words like he meant it. He observed how serious Ed was despite his nervousness.

Despite everything Jim wanted to just keep looking.

“Thank you, Ed.” Jim finally breathed.

Ed smiled, the same smile he would’ve given him every time they talked.

“I am only telling the truth.”

And oh, how Ed’s truth makes Jim's knees weak, wanting to ask for forgiveness.

They broke it off. He and Barbara. Well, it was Barbara who broke up with Jim and he knew it was coming— he knew ever since he got to call her ‘his.’ He knew this day would come and it still scares him.

Because what is he if not a man who failed?

Failed to love, failed to be strong, failed to be a man.

His skin feels like it’s falling apart like a broken vase with each and every mistake, falling apart so easily, and so fragile.

When did he become so soft? He’s supposed to be strong and hardened for the people around him.

Yet he feels so soft.

“Are you listening, Jim?” Ed’s voice chimed in and Jim was snapped back to reality.

They were in the forensic lab, Ed was presenting his new findings to Jim and Jim wasn't listening.

“I— yeah, sorry…” Jim said almost sheepishly. “What were you saying again?”

Ed didn't seem to be mad that he had to repeat himself, because, of course, Ed smiled as if he was the glittering stars themselves.

And it was for Jim only.

God.

“I managed to rule out a couple of suspects based on the evidence,” He said proudly to himself. “This will narrow things down for you!”

Jim nodded and gave the other man a small weak smile.

“Thanks, this will be very helpful.” He said, his eyes didn't meet Ed’s gaze.

Ed seemed to be satisfied with Jim’s response, the man then continued to ramble on about his other finding with excitement, his eyes lit up as he spoke, his movement swayed in the air so carefree and his pink lips curled into those smiles that were only for Jim once again.

Ed was so different from the others, that it hurt.

It hurts because he likes how different Ed is. He never judges Jim for failing, he doesn't bat an eye when Jim makes a mistake, and he doesn't care if Jim is acting so softly.

Part of him wished Ed would just tell him something vile with how Jim looked at Ed.

Watching Ed is like watching the sun, so bright and full of light, so different yet if he flew too close he would burn.

Ed was something new to him and it hurt so bad yet he seemed to can't have enough of the man’s light.

And Jim burned in Edward Nygma’s lights.

“Are you okay?” Ed’s voice chimed in just in time, interrupting him from his thoughts.

He finally looked up to find Ed’s gaze looking at him with such concern and so much emotion that a man shouldn't express.

And just like that, his wall crumbled.

“Actually, no.” His throat felt dry, he had never been so honest to anyone like this, but why did it feel so safe when it was Ed? “...Me and Barbara, we broke up.”

“Oh.” Ed's eyes widened slightly before blinking it away, his lips forming a little ‘o’ as he tried to come up with a response. “I’m— I’m sorry to hear that.”

Ed looked away from him and he wanted the man to look back at him, held him with his brown gaze to assure him that he was still a man even without a woman to love.

“Thanks,” He murmured, shifting himself uncomfortably as he looked down onto the floor that seemed cleaner than the entire department.

Ed must have spent so much time here.

Alone.

And he wonders if he could give any comfort to Ed at those times.

“I am certain you could find a lovely woman in the near future …or perhaps you could talk to Ms. Kean?” Ed suggested.

He almost shook his head as if he didn't want it.

What if he didn't want it?

“You give me too much hope, Ed.” He managed, a small smile playing on his face.

“I believe hope is a great thing to have,” Ed replied with a firm smile.

Maybe.

He took a breath and finally looked at Ed again, maybe he was getting too soft and too alone, wanting and needing just someone who would give him hope, so asked—

“Wanna get a drink after work with me?”

Ed smiled then dropped, his eyes widened slightly in confusion. His eyes shifted from left to right and Jim felt bad for making Ed nervous.

“—If you want, I mean.” Jim added though he hoped Ed would say ‘yes.’ He hoped that Ed would look at him, oh, so selfishly with a bright smile, saying yes, of course— and Jim would tell himself in his head that this is normal for wanting this.

“I would love to.” Ed finally said after stumbling over his words.

Jim breathed.

“Okay,” He nodded, keeping his hands inside his pocket, and his head down low, biting a forbidden smile. “Okay, see you then. I know a place.”

He looked up at Ed to see him smile back. Bright as ever.

And Jim burned again.

The bar was loud, full of loud laughter and people talking nonsense, blabbering as they drank themselves away from the world.

Jim used to find comfort in those noises when he was younger, it's not the drink or the women there, but the men— loud and daring. Masculine. He would tell himself.

Now, he just pitied them, knowing that most of them here are leading a miserable life.

Maybe he is one of them.

He and Ed sat in their own little corner, away from the laughter and blabbering. He ordered himself a whiskey while Ed ordered Shirley Temple.

“You don't drink?” He asked.

Ed shifted himself almost uncomfortably before taking a sip from his glass.

“No,” He said sheepishly. “I find alcohol to be… unpleasant.”

Jim nodded and let out a hum, it was admirable, truly. To not give in to alcoholism and drink yourself away in a city like Gotham. Filled with sinners and filth.

And that makes Ed pure and for a second, Jim thought that Ed could cleanse him.

They talked. First about works, before the conversation shifted to Ed’s interests in riddles and mystery.

He hated how he found himself drowning in those prayer-like words.

Ed smiled and chuckled as Jim answered his riddles and listened to his little fun facts and Jim smiled back every time.

He hated that it felt so freeing.

So freeing to be with someone so different, someone who would be considered too soft in his father’s eyes.

“I don't get it.” And maybe it was the alcohol but Jim blurted those words out.

“I’m sorry..?” Ed tilted his head.

Jim opened and closed his mouth, trying to search and form words and sentences but he kept failing, he then took a deep breath, averting his gaze away to look at his half-empty glass of beer, swirling them around.

“You,” He finally mustered it out. “Why are you so nice to me?” He asked, though internally he was screaming and begging ‘Why me, why me, why me?’ repeatedly.

He wasn’t looking at Ed, he couldn’t bring himself to— all he could see was Ed’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, his gaze lingered on Ed’s skin and his collarbones for a moment before he heard Ed say—

“Why are you nice to me?” He asked instead and Jim felt slightly frustrated and maybe scared to answer that question. God, he even feels bad for feeling frustrated.

They sat there, despite all the noises in the bar, there was nothing but silence surrounding them, like there were just the two of them alone in the world.

“Because you’re different.” Jim blurted out so softly, like he was telling the secret of the universe and he hated that he sounded shaky. “You’re not—” He swallowed. “You’re not like any of ‘em… those guys at GCPD, and it’s new.”

It’s new and he wanted more was on the tip of his tongue.

This was a mistake, Jim thought the moment he admitted that to Ed— he was getting too close to the man, too soft, everything and anything that is the opposite of the definition of a man.

“You’re different too,” Ed admitted in a whisper and Jim could swear that Ed was smiling if Jim wasn’t still avoiding the man’s gaze. His voice was so soothing as if there was nothing wrong with what both of them just confessed to each other.

“You’re… not what I expected,” Ed added almost shyly.

Jim finally shifted his gaze to meet Ed's nervous smile.

“What do you mean?” He asked,

“When I heard that there will be a new detective there, I thought you would be like them.” Ed chuckled sheepishly and shook his head. “I thought you would be… well, by the definition, I thought you would be a bully, I feel as though everyone in GCPD nowadays is a bully.” Ed frowned and Jim decided that a frown was not a good look on Ed’s face. “Instead you’re brave— you’re kind and you care, you are nothing like them.”

As Ed poured those words out, drowning him with such affection that felt so genuine that it felt so new and alien to him, Jim knew at that moment that he wanted nothing more than just to clean and scrub his skin until they started to burn from the pain because, oh, he wanted to hear that every day.

He was walking into a dangerous temptation and there was no cleansing that would work.

Jim swallowed the lump in his throat, he could do nothing but nod. It took him a moment before he managed to say hoarsely, “Want to get out of here?”

Ed said yes.

And with that, they both exited the bar and Jim's mind was reeling and yelling at him, the voice of his father followed in those echoes, disgusting, unholy, dirty—

Ed looked at him with such concern that Jim wanted to curl up into a ball and lay down on the floor with bottles of beer scattered around him.

He decided to drive Ed’s home— the car was filled with silence, and no one dared to say anything. Jim gripped tightly on the steering wheel as he drove. He hated how quiet it was, he wished Ed would ask him those riddles of his along the way.

When they reached Ed’s apartment, Jim parked his car near the sidewalk and quickly got out of his car.

He runs his hand through his hair— they are longer, not as buzzed as they were before and Jim feels the need to cut it before it becomes much longer. He tilted his head up toward the sky and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. At that moment, he wanted to curse the sky or ask them for forgiveness or both.

He heard Ed getting outside from the car as well, his hands playing with each other with each step he carefully took as if there were bear traps lying on the ground.

He walked toward Jim, keeping some distance between them, his lips pursed together. There was a pause and everything was frozen.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, so nervous and scared. “If— If it was something I said back at the bar, I am so sorry— I didn't mean to…”

And oh, Jim feels so guilty and so dirty at the same time for making Ed think that Ed had done something wrong.

“No.” He quickly dismissed firmly, stepping closer to Ed. Both of the men, standing there, staring at each other. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Ed, It’s just…” He sighed again, looking away. “Me, me— there’s something wrong with me.”

“What do you mean?” Ed tilted his head, looking at him with confusion, studying Jim. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

How Jim wanted that to be true.

“I mean, there gotta be something wrong with me, for wanting this right?” Jim breathed and he wanted to get out of there, escaping Ed’s gaze that was trying to solve him.

“Wanting what?” So much confusion in his voice and Jim still can’t— won’t give him an answer, too scared, too shaken up, too sinful to say it out loud. Jim didn’t say anything so Ed continued. “How could there be anything wrong with you? You’re perfect.”

Jim’s breath hitched and with that one word, it was as if Jim had crawled out of the flame, his skin still burning and burning away as he got up from his scraped, bruised knees, those knees that hurt like it has been kneeling and begging for forgiveness for eternity, he gets up, still burning and then the next thing he knew, he was grabbing Ed’s ties and he kissed Ed.

Ed’s mouth was soft and sweet, a stark contrast to his own lips, bitter. Ed didn’t kiss Jim back, making Jim panic, he thought of Ed’s disgusted face and how Ed would pull him away. Jim would be apologizing to Ed and his father repeatedly but then, Ed kissed him back— so soft and slow, so careful like Jim could break.

Jim would break.

He kissed Ed, and it felt so safe yet so dirty the more they touched each other— Ed’s hands were resting on Jim’s chest and Jim felt dirty there. Jim’s own hand had moved to hold Ed’s jaw and he felt like he had corrupted Ed there.

It was like the night he was eight years old, and he was crying in his bedroom as he kneeled down in front of his bed, begging the star to forgive him for being so soft all over again.

Ed was the first to pull out of the kiss, he looked at Jim with such a flustered face, his eyes shining in the night with surprises and ho[e and his lips parted so adoringly.

“Was this a date?” Ed asked, voice quiet.

Jim wanted to refuse, needed to refuse, but he couldn't, not with how hopeful Ed looked, not with how he shined in the dark night without even smiling.

Jim chose to burn more.

“Yes.” He croaked, feeling the flame in his throat.

Jim went home that night and he dropped down on the edge of his bed, breath, breath, breath— He tapped his foot as he looked down on the wooden floor of his apartment— Barbara’s apartment. It was hers before she left because Jim was too weak.

Jim should get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness like that one night but his body refuses, freezing in place and doesn't know what to do like a lost child.

When he finally composed himself, he finally let his body slump into the softness of the bed as he stared up at the ceiling feeling so numb, so dirty— he didn’t know what to do tomorrow. Should he just ignore Ed and pretend that nothing had happened, as if he didn’t put Ed’s soft lips against his as if he didn’t want to do it again? Or should he let himself be a sinner and let Ed’s light burn him down?

He lay there for who knows how long before he started to drift to sleep.

The prayers for forgiveness run through his ears.

He doesn’t know if it was for God or Ed.

The next morning was a mess. He arrived at GCPD and was greeted by a murder case. Bullock had been grumbling all morning about how they should give him a break and that he was too old for this. Normally, Jim would try to find a clever response but his mind was too blank— thinking about last night over and over.

It didn’t help that Ed was stealing glances at him as they worked on the case together, Jim tried to repress those feelings that told him to look back at Ed but he couldn’t.

He felt bad for ignoring the other man after what went down, Ed had looked at him with so much hope and Jim ran away.

That day he tried to ignore Ed as much as he could, avoiding eye contact and he told himself that everything was fine.

He is fine.

“What the hell is wrong with you now?” Harvey asked once they got back at the station. They were walking down the precinct and Jim had been so tense.

“Huh? I, uh…” Jim’s eyes were on the floor, panic rose in his chest. “Nothing.” He murmured.

“We both know that's bull.” Harvey snorted before they both settled down in their respective seats.

“Harvey, I’m serious— it’s just… an off day, y’know.” Jim finds that Harvey is looking at him with a doubtful face, amusement written on it.

“You've been having an ‘off day’—” Jim hated how Harvey emphasized those lies with a damn air quote. “—for a very wrong time. So, enlightened me, Jimbo. What's going on?”

And for a moment he considered it. Telling Harvey what had happened last night with Ed, how he wanted more, how it hurts to want more. It would be as if he was confessing his sins.

“Look, Harvey, you don't need to know every detail of my life, okay?” Jim snapped instead, telling himself he needed to be strong and don't let those wants make him soft.

Harvey paused and sighed. Part of him wonders what Harvey's reaction would be like. Harvey was one of the men here who had seen so much, too much. So hardened and jaded. He sometimes feels afraid he will disappoint the man along the line of work.

It feels ridiculous to be afraid of such a scenario, but if he failed Harvey, does that mean he failed at being a man?

“It's just—” Jim sighed. “Personal.”

“Another girl's problem?” Harvey suggested.

“Close.” He let out a brittle chuckle.

Harvey looked at him and Jim could only duck his head down, looking at his desk instead.

“Y’know what, Jim? You don't want to tell me, fine,” He shrugged. “Just a piece of advice… Do what you gotta do.”

There was that lump in Jim's throat again.

“What if I don't want to?” He asked, so soft yet again and so fragile.

“Then it wasn't meant to be,” Harvey answered, careful and cautious. “Just ‘nother missed opportunity.”

It wasn't meant to be.

Missed opportunity.

Jim’s hands were clutching onto each other as he laid them on the wooden desk, he looked at them holding on to each other like he was praying.

He thinks about how he had seen those hands clutching onto each other countless times.

He then thinks about how Ed’s lips curved into a smile that was just for him countless times.

He swallowed his prayers.

“Okay,” He finally said, his voice not as strong as he wanted it to be. “Thank you, Harv.”

Harvey waved his hand dismissively.

“Don't mention it.”

Later that day, when his shift had ended, Jim had found out that Ed was still in the forensic lab, feeling both delighted and scared— he took a deep breath and ignored those whispers that sounded like his father for once and walked in.

“What is this?” Ed had asked when Jim had placed a small pink pastel box on the table. Ed was sitting and studying something under the microscope at the time, he didn't even notice that Jim had come in and placed the box.

He looked up at Jim, his dark brown eyes looked annoyed, or at least tried to, Ed seemed rather nervous.

Jim gave him a reassuring smile for him and for himself too.

“Peace offering.” He explained, flickering his eyes down to the box and back at Ed “I’m sorry.” He blurted out.

Ed’s eyes were quickly fixed on him, there was hope for a moment.

“For what?” He murmured so carefully.

“Last night— I shouldn't… I shouldn't pretend it didn't happen.” He answered. Then there's that burning sensation again.

Flame on his skin.

“Did…” Ed swallowed. “Did you mean it?”

It should be easy— but his mind told him to just run away, run away from all this, run to his apartment, on his knees in his shower as he let the water run through his body, cleansing him.

His throat feels so burned.

“I—” He can't, He can't. “I…” Oh, he can't finish that sentence.

Ed didn't interrupt him still, he sat there and waited. His eyes lingered on Jim's tired face.

Jim would lie if it didn't bring him comfort.

“I’m scared.” He settled on those words instead, a confession that makes him sound so weak, but maybe Jim has always been weak. “Of this.”

There was silence between the two men and Jim hated it.

“Can I— Can I tell you something?” Ed asked softly, looking away.

Jim's breath hitched.

“Yeah.” He croaked.

Ed pursed his lips together, he noticed that Ed was fidgeting his hands again. He wanted to be reassured that it would be fine so badly even though he knew so well he would be lying.

“Me too,” Ed confessed.

Their gaze meets one another's.

“—I don't know… I don't know how similar our fear is but…” He looked down to face the floor, his hands now clumped together, in front of his torso.

Jim thought of how Ed was so brave at this moment while Jim had been so scared. He thought of Ed’s words saying how Jim is brave.

Ed couldn't have been more wrong.

How brave could he be when he’s standing in front of the embodiment of light and still be scared?

“But I always… I always wanted to..” Ed was struggling and Jim could only look.

Ed then laughed nervously before shaking his head. “...I’m sorry, I don't think I know what I am saying.” He mumbled before getting up.

He was trying to leave.

No.

“Wait,” Jim said. He wanted to beg but it felt so shameful. “Just wait—” He breathed.

And Ed waited. Nervous and hesitant he looks at Jim. Then Jim opened his mouth again— as he rehearsed the words in his head over and over.

“I… I am neither a wager nor a dancer, yet in life, I'm taken by those who advance. What am I?” Jim asked. It's silly— saying it out loud but then he looks to see how Ed’s eyes seem to shine and those thoughts quickly fade away.

“Chance,” Ed answered, his voice soft.

“Yeah, chance,” He paused. “I want to try— I want to give this a chance.” He breathed and felt his skin burn a little more.

Ed remained silent, his mouth slightly agape, so Jim continued.

“I want to experience this, this is so new and I— I want it to be you.” He breathed again, feeling his lung catching the flame. “But if you don't want it, I—”

“I do.” Ed quickly chimed in firmly. His face is flustered and nervous. “I, I want that too.” He murmured.

Breathe—

They stared at each other for a moment, his wide blue eyes meeting Ed’s dark brown gaze before he flicked down to Ed’s lips.

“We can take this slow,” Ed mumbled, he looked so shy and gentle, giving Jim an encouraging smile.

Oh, how Jim wanted that smile against his lips.

“Okay…” He looked away for a moment. “Okay, yeah, let’s take it slow.”

His eyes flickered down to look at Ed’s hands. With hesitation, he slowly reached his own hand out— and he knew it would burn when he touched them.

He paused.

It will burn when he touches them.

Ed seemed to notice what he was doing, he cautiously reached one of his hands out. Both of the men’s hands were now, almost touching, the only thing that was separating them from one another was the small invisible barrier.

Jim looked at Ed’s pale and there was flame— there was flame, there was flame.

Jim decided to burn a little more.

He touched Ed’s hand, resting his hand on Ed’s.

Ed smiled excitedly before giving a gentle squeeze. He laughed sheepishly at the sensation and Jim smiled at that.

“By the way, what’s… in the box?” Ed asked, Jim almost forgot the small pink pastel box he had given Ed as a ‘peace offering.’

“Oh, uh—” He smiled and he felt a blush creeping in. “Cinnamon rolls.”

Ed’s eyes lit up like a thousand stars— he smiled at Jim like Jim was the most important person in the whole world like Jim was the only one in the whole world.

“I like cinnamon rolls.” He beamed.

And maybe there's cleansing in the flame.

They started dating— Jim is still so unsure about all of this, his mind tells him how wrong it was with every step he takes beside Ed but the sensation of Ed feels right. Ed’s gentle, so gentle that it feels so alienated and new. He would be hesitant when he touched Jim, but he smiled and blushed when Jim touched him back.

As cliché as it sounds, Jim did find himself drowning in those little moments. He loved how Ed laughed so shyly, how his hands moved carelessly when he talked about things he was passionate about, how his eyes sparkled when he saw Jim, and how new Ed was to Jim.

Of course, they keep their relationship a secret. There were eyes upon them and Jim was too scared to walk past those eyes without caring Ed had told him with such a gentle tone that he understood Jim, his soft hand had covered and rested on one of Jim’s hands one night, when they were at Jim’s apartment.

And the burning wouldn’t stop— he feels as though everything he had done would be received with disapproval and punishment from the sky above and Jim would stay in the shower for longer sometimes. Washing and scrubbing the filth as he tries to put the flame away.

“What if it’s wrong?” He had asked Ed one night as they watched a rerun of Back to the Future one night on the television at Jim’s apartment. The room was dark, the only lights that were illuminating the room were from the outside as there was no rest for the wicked. Then there was the light from the television— highlighting Ed’s features, brown eyes, slightly messy hair, sharpened jawline. Beautiful.

He had pulled Ed closer to his body, and Ed decided to rest his head on the crook of Jim’s neck. He stared at the television, on the screen, Marty McFly tried to convince Doc Brown he was from the future. Ed would’ve argued that Doc Brown trusted people too easily.

“Do you think it’s wrong?” Ed asked instead.

He could feel Ed’s body tensed slightly and he admired how Ed was so strong in this moment—to put up with someone like Jim.

“No,” He quickly said. “I know, it’s not— but, sometimes I feel so… wrong.” He mumbled, finding comfort in Ed’s messy hair as he rested his head on them.

“Well,” Ed paused, searching for words to say. “What’s there to live for if love is a sin?”.

Jim breathed against Ed’s hair. The man smelled of mint and all things delicate. He smelled like home.

He let himself burn a little bit more.

“Was that a riddle?” He asked, a smile playing on his face.

Ed giggled and buried himself more in the crooks of Jim's neck, face reddened and soft.

“Yes.” He feels Ed’s breath on his neck.

“Nerd.” Jim quipped and Ed pouted before letting out a small ‘Hey!’

And they both laughed.

If everyone else's sin is to hate, is Jim's sin to love?

The morning after Jim found him and Ed lying on his bed, Jim buried half of his face into the pillows as he stared at the other man.

Ed was sleeping peacefully and content— it seemed that he had forgotten to take his glasses off before going to sleep.

It made Jim smile, he had to hold in a peal of laughter, fearing that he would wake Ed up. ‘I never forget anything.’ Ed had told him once firmly. Hah— Well, look at him now.

It feels weird to act so softly— it still feels wrong and he would question himself whether he's a man or not but Ed would reassure him that it doesn't matter. That how he acts doesn't equate to his masculinity.

He wanted to believe Ed so badly.

Snapping out of the thought, Jim gets up, and slowly with hesitation, he bends down to kiss Ed’s forehead before shifting himself down, just above Ed’s ear.

“Ed, wake up.” He murmured softly. “We got to work this morning.” He reached his hand up and caressed the man's shoulder and ignored the burn.

Ed hummed in return before turning away, mumbling something he couldn't quite make out.

Jim chuckled.

“I told you we shouldn't do a ‘movie night.’ Now I am tired.” Ed frowned.

“I’m sorry,” Jim said softly as he gazed at Ed, so wonderful, so warm. “Let me make it up to you after work, yeah?”

It surprised Jim how easily sentences like those came out of his mouth when in the past it would feel like torture.

Ed paused for a moment, taking in the information before his lips curled up into a small smile.

“Sounds lovely.”

Jim smiled back.

Ed squinted before touching his glasses.

“Did I sleep with this on?” He frowned.

Jim laughed and it felt right.

They arrived at GCPD together— he was nervous when they did. Keeping their relationship a secret was still his number one priority. If someone saw them walking in together, what would they think?

Hate, disgust, blackmail, gossip, hate—

They walked in and no one bats an eye.

Ed then told him he needed to be in the lab. He gave Jim a smile before strolling down the precinct.

Jim was alone in the crowded department.

He’s overthinking. Everything is fine.

He let out a breath before shaking his head and moving to find his seat. To his surprise and amusement, Harvey was already there.

“Hey, Harvey.” Jim greeted, sitting down on his chair.

“Hey, Boy Scout,” Harvey mumbled, too busy looking at the newspaper rather than looking at Jim.

“You’re in early.” Jim pointed out and he could feel Harvey rolled his eyes mentally even though his eyes were glued to the newspaper.

“Yeah, yeah, the impossible happened. You can gawk all you want.”

Jim snorted and shook his head before leaning into his seat.

He thinks about this morning— how Ed was so warm beside him, how good he looks with his messy hair.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, his head tried to tell him just like how his body would tell him to recoil when Ed tried to touch him.

Jim breathed.

Ed would’ve told him to breathe.

“You okay?” Harvey asked, finally looking up at Jim. His eyebrow shot up, giving Jim a look.

“Yeah, I’m fine—” Jim nodded and shrugged. “Feeling pretty good actually.” He added.

“Yeah? You got laid or something.” Harvey snarked.

“How original,” Jim deadpanned. “No, I didn't get laid.” He sighed, slightly flustered at the idea.

Harvey laughed and gave him a nod. The older man reached for his cup of coffee on the desk, swirling it around before sipping it.

They talked— Harvey complained about some poor intern and told Jim about this new burger joint that they should try. He started to berate Jim's taste in movies, Jim could only roll his eyes.

Ed came around sometime after, delivering news on his findings. He looked excited and proud. He’s so animated and lively as he talks. Jim finds himself smiling as he listens to Ed talk.

Ed handed Jim some files— he thought it would help with the case.

Their hands brushed and Jim wished he could hold onto it longer.

“Thank you, Ed,” Jim said, almost jittery.

“No problem at all!” Ed waved dismissively before giving Jim a shy smile and walking away.

Jim’s eyes followed Ed as he walked into the forensic lab.

“Huh.” He heard Harvey exclaim, making him turn his attention back to Harvey.

“What?”

Harvey chuckled before sipping his coffee.

“Nothing.” It doesn't sound like nothing because Harvey looked happy for whatever reason.

He brushed it off, focusing on the files that Ed had given him and the day went on.

The evening when his shift almost ended, he found himself gathering stuff up from his desk. Harvey was there with him and the older man was complaining about the new burger joint they had tried that afternoon.

Jim wasn't really listening, he was more keen on getting out of there and maybe talking to Ed, he wanted to ask the man out on another date but was still too… scared. Sometimes he wonders how Ed is so patient with him.

“So…” He heard Harvey clear his throat, making Jim snap out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

Harvey seemed to be slightly hesitant as if he was choosing his words carefully.

“...You and Ed?” He started and Jim’s body froze. He straightened up his body and fully looked at Harvey.

Shit, shit, shit—

Jim tried to come up with an excuse, a lie, whatever the hell that would get him out of the situation but all in his mind were the words ‘disgusting.’ and ‘wrong.’ painted all around.

“No.” He mustered out. “No, I— I am not…” He’s sputtering and stumbled upon his words, Harvey's going to catch up to his lies and Harvey's going to—

“Hey, hey, christ, calm down!” Jim must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights. The second he finally shot a look at Harvey again the man put his hands up in the air, signifying Jim to stop. “I’m just asking you, that's all.”

There was a twinge of hope growing in Jim’s body but he still didn't believe it.

“You’re not...” He asked, hesitant and too soft. He hated it.

“No.” He snorted. “Frankly, it ain't my business.”

His body relaxed. Harvey is okay with him. Harvey is okay, Harvey is okay, Harvey is okay—

“Oh.” Was the only thing he managed out. “How did you uh…”

“Y’know how in soap opera, the couple eyes fuck each other anytime they could? That's what you and Nygma were doing this morning.”

“Harvey!” Jim hissed, feeling his face reddened.

“What! No one’s around and it's true!” Harvey exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

Jim gave him a deadpanned look which was returned with a laugh from Harvey.

The older man shakes his head and huffs out another laugh.

“Just— you’re happier and that's good. ‘kay, man?”

Man.

He’s still a man.

Jim breathed again, it was easier.

“Okay,” He nodded. “Thanks.”

“Whatever, boy scout.” Harvey snorted.

That night he had talked to Ed on the phone about what had happened. Ed was initially surprised and nervous at first— but when he heard that Harvey was actually cool with it, Ed chuckled, relieved, and Jim listened to Ed's laughter.

Jim hoped, god, he hoped that every day would be like this. He listened to Ed’s voice, letting Ed soothe him with his warmth. He wanted to feel safe next to Ed every day, not feeling dirty and wrong. But sometimes, there will be voices. There will be voices telling him that he's wrong, that he’s dirty.

He hates how those voices sounded oddly like his father or how sometimes it sounded like the priest at the church he used to attend.

Jim ignored those, keeping them inside, not letting those thoughts dictate his life.

It worked. Jim would continue his life like nothing had happened but Ed would give him those looks like he knows something is up and Jim would brush it off. For a second, he thought about Barbara, he thought of how Barbara gave up on Jim and wondered if Ed would think the same.

But everything is inevitable. One night, Jim found himself waking up from a nightmare— He was burning. He was burning and he was calling for help, but no one came, when he called for Ed he burned more.

Dirty, dirty, dirty, his mind keeps telling him, disgusting. He’s dirty.

His breath hitched, and his hands against the mattress curled up into a fist, he was sweating and god, he felt so dirty.

That night he stumbled into his shower and let the water wash and cleanse him for god knows how long. He sat there begging for forgiveness. He doesn't know whose forgiveness he was begging for.

He called Ed that night. He sat on the corner of his bathroom, his back against the cold tiles as he waited for Ed to answer.

“Hello?” Ed’s voice came through the phone and Jim closed his eyes, letting out a breath.

“Hi, Ed.” He tried so hard for his voice not to sound shaky but he kept failing. “It’s so late, I know, I’m sorry— just… I…”

Why was he calling Ed? He doesn't even know but his soul was screaming Ed’s name like a prayer. But he felt like he would keep burning with every word he spoke.

“Jim? Are you okay?” Ed’s voice was soft again, too soft again.

Jim tried to say no but it wouldn't come out, he tried to say something but nothing came out, he heard his breath hitching and then there was a sob.

“Oh, Jim…” He heard Ed say— all gentle, pouring all the love into his name.

“Sorry, ‘m sorry, Ed.” He mumbled repeatedly until the word lost its meaning.

“There's nothing for you to be sorry about,” Ed said firmly yet so cautious. “Are you in your apartment? I can go—”

“No.” Jim quickly retorted. He can't let Ed see him like this. Pathetic and sitting on the floor of his bathroom, holding himself together like he will break if he doesn't.

He also doesn't want Ed here as Jim feels like Ed will corrupt him even more at this moment. He hated it. He hated how he would think that— that Ed would corrupt him and Jim feels so bad for thinking that.

But he feels like Ed would only burn Jim more and more at the moment.

Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me.

He chanted in his mind, for he knew this would not be the last time it happened.

“Okay,” Ed said. “I will stay like this with you, is that okay?”

He wanted to say no— he wanted it so bad but He needed Ed, he needed to hear his voice, needed to hear his breathing, needed his warmth and comfort and everything that Ed’s willing to give him.

He feels so selfish because he knows it will be so hard for him to give Ed those same things.

“Yes.” He answered, his breath all shaky. “Stay.”

There was a pause, a moment of silence, and for a moment he had hoped that Ed would see how far gone Jim was and Ed would hang up.

But Ed didn't.

“I will stay,” Ed answered.

Jim feels the flame that he had put down months ago coming back.

Things got worse from there. Aside from how dirty and burned he felt— there was whispering.

Not from his mind, not from his soul but GCPD. People started to notice. They noticed that he had gotten close to Ed. Closer and too close for his own good.

He heard snickering and laughter— speculation.

At first, he tried, god, he tried so hard to ignore those but it got louder and louder each time to the point that he couldn't ignore it.

“What the hell is a person like Jim Gordon doing with that freak?”

He needs to breathe— he needs to breathe.

“Y’think Nygma is his new boy toy?”

Dirty. Dirty— he’s dirty.

“Maybe Nygma paid for it, would do anything to get his cock sucked.”

And he was reminded of his father's words once again asking if he wanted to be like those sinners. His head screams no and cries for it to stop. He wanted to punch the person who said that, to barge in and grab the person by the collar and punch him, but Jim couldn’t. Wouldn’t that confirm their suspicion and speculation that there was something between him and Ed? He couldn’t let that happen.

He thought about what would happen to him, mockery, vile words, and disgust from everyone around him.

Then Ed.

He’s scared of what would happen to himself, so how could he even protect Ed if the same thing were to happen to the man?

Ed tried to ask Jim what had happened— They were sitting alone in the forensic lab, He was going through the files of a related case they were working on. His gaze shifted to look at Ed and the man was looking back with so much concern, so much emotion. He always wondered how Ed could show so much emotion with just his gaze.

Jim had dismissed, saying it was nothing for Ed to worry about— Ed didn’t believe Jim but was willing to drop the subject down. He felt bad for not telling Ed, but he was trying to shield the man from the mean and evil gossip that was going around. He doesn’t think Ed knows, so was it so bad that he wanted to protect Ed?

He tries to talk to Ed less at the station, keeping his professional mask falls into place as he talks to the man. Ed had looked confused when Jim ignored the man’s invitation to have lunch together. It hurt so badly to see the smile— Ed’s smile that was just for him drop into a small frown. Ed had excused himself and walked away from Jim after that. Don’t go. Was on the tip of his tongue. Please stay. But he didn’t say it out loud and he was left alone.

Sometimes he wonders if he was trying to protect Ed or himself. His heart knows that there’s nothing wrong with his feelings and his emotions— but everything in him keeps telling the opposite. It's gotten worse ever since the speculation started. So maybe he was trying so selfishly to protect himself from the whispering and vile words.

Ed tried so hard to ask him what was going on, and why was Jim avoiding him— Ed even thought that Ed had done something wrong, it hurt that Ed would think such a thing when Jim was the one who kept failing and burning.

“Please tell me what’s going on.” Ed had begged Jim one night when they were at Jim’s apartment, Ed was sitting on the sofa next to Jim, whose face was looking down on the floor.

Jim didn’t say anything to Ed for a long time, he was just sitting there facing the floor because he was too scared of looking up at Ed, knowing he would see that concerned and hurtful face of someone he cared about. Jim wished he could disappear at that moment, for he knows what comes next.

He thinks about Ed, his smiles, the ways his eyes glint at the smallest thing, how free and how different and wonderful Ed is. A bonfire that Jim willingly let himself be engulfed in, setting his skin aflame. He thinks about what Ed was to him for the past months that they were with each other.

Replaying those memories for the last time before he said those words.

“I think we should break up.” He croaked out finally, feeling so numb as he did so.

Just like that, there was nothing but silence. Ed’s body froze— he still couldn't bear to look up at Ed’s face but he could already imagine what was written on the man’s face.

He replayed those memories for the last time before burying them inside and cleansing his soul.

“I’m sorry—” Jim tried but Ed had stood up by then. Jim didn’t try to protest, he didn’t try to look up at Ed who was standing frigidly, he didn’t try to reach out and he didn’t try to chase after Ed when Ed left the apartment.

Once again he was left alone, he sat on the couch for who knows how long, rewinding the memory of what just happened, too scared to move because he was afraid that moving would only cause him to break down. He sits there, staring into the blank screen of the television.

He’s protecting Ed— he told himself repeatedly, shoving the words into his skull until he will believe it because he knows damn well that in the end, he was protecting himself from all the eyes and from everyone around him.

He thinks of the fire on his skin.

There was still so much left to burn.

Ed didn’t come in the next day, it made sense for Ed not to come here after what he had said but Jim couldn’t help but stare at Ed’s desk. It was still neatly cleaned like yesterday, everything was still in place, his pencil, his notepads, his paperclips. He moved his hand down to touch the desk and he told himself that everything was fine.

Ed didn't come in the next day either, or the day after— he had asked Captain Essen what happened and she told him that he was sick and reassured him that he would be back soon.

Ed still didn't come to work. It has been almost four weeks since Ed didn't come to work, Guerra had taken his place as the forensic by now. He tried to call Ed on the phone but he didn't answer, everything led Jim to leave a voicemail.

“He quit.” Captain Essen finally told him.

No.

“You told me he was sick.” He hissed, his hands curling into fists.

“Detective,” Her voice was calm yet firm. “That’s what Mr. Nygma had informed me before announcing his departure.”

Jim breathed and shook his head, looking away.

“Why?” He muttered even though knowing full well why. It all comes down to Jim, ruining everything he touches.

“I cannot disclose private information, Jim.” Captain Essen shakes her head before letting out a sigh. “I know you like him, I like him too—”

It's not like that, not like that, not like that— she doesn't understand.

Jim wanted to laugh or maybe slump down to his knees. He did this— he drove Ed away, he hurt and ruined and broke Ed.

He left the Captain’s office and then he was back there, staring at Ed’s desk, touching it just to feel something. A reassurance that he had done the right things.

He didn't feel any lighter.

He tried to reach out to Ed again that week but Ed never responded. Ed’s stuff— the stuff that was on his desk and his lab was taken out, the pencils, the notepads, everything.

It took him two months to gather his courage and go to Ed’s apartment, his mind reeling and racing as he tried to come up with something to say to Ed only to be informed that Ed left. He doesn't leave here anymore.

Jim goes back to his own apartment that night, sitting down on the floor, his head resting against the door, feeling like he can't breathe.

It was as if Ed was never here and everyone seemed to be fine with it. He hated how everyone seemed to be fine with that, how the world didn't care if Edward Nygma was gone.

“Please,” He had begged through one of the various voicemails once. “I’m sorry, please come back.” He choked out, desperate and pleading.

Then another.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out, his head drowning in alcohol. “I don't know where you are, please come back.”

And then another.

“GCPD has been a mess since you were gone.” He paused, “I’ve been a mess since you were gone. I’m sorry, please come back to me.”

Then another

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please come back.” He begged and begged. “God, where are you?”

But Ed never answered, never came back to him.

He ended it, he knows he ended it but he still needed Ed so much. He wanted to feel Ed’s hands on his, his voice telling him it was going to be okay, and his smiles that were for him only.

He told himself someday that maybe this was for the best, that this would clean him of all corruption and he wouldn't feel the burning sensation ever again.

He knows that was a lie.

Harvey tried to get him to talk, to open up but Jim can't, god, he just— can't.

He’s so afraid that if he were to open up, he would cry, he would cry in front of Harvey as he talks about how much he missed Ed, about how much Ed deserves someone much better than him, someone who isn't a coward to be with Ed. Someone strong.

He’s so scared to cry and let all of his emotions out when he can only imagine his father’s disappointed face looking at him.

And then it became months. Months after Ed had left, after Jim had told Ed that they should call it off, months after he lost someone who understands him, months after he didn't chase after Ed.

Not only was GCPD in disarray but Gotham as well, things got more complicated. After Jim killed Theo Galavan. At the time, Jim had thought about what Ed would think of him as he shot Galavan through the chest without regrets.

Would Ed have supported him, held him in his arms, and told him that he had done the right thing? Or would Ed fear him, running away from Jim?

Jim thinks he deserves the latter.

Jim became a bounty hunter for a short while, running and drinking his problem away while capturing Indian Hills escapees.

The truth is— he’s tired. He’s so tired and scared to lose more people Jim cared about. The very touch of him corrupts and breaks all of them.

So he hid. He hid himself away, masking all the emotion he had let out when he was with Ed inside him once again. He thought to himself that being a bounty hunter would help.

He thought of Ed more often— Wondering what Ed would say, seeing him in this condition. Fear, disappointment, hatred, disgust.

At night, he lay in his bed and let his thoughts consume him as he heard a sob escaping from his lips before he felt himself drifting away.

He imagines Ed holding him every night.

After Cobblepot’s announcement on running for mayor— it’s laughable, really. He never truly thought Cobblepot could pull it off but he did.

He was watching the rerun of the quote-unquote celebration on the television, as the citizens of Gotham celebrated the day Cobblepot graced the street. Golden confetti flew through the sky, as Cobblepot waved at the people.

And then Jim saw him. Tall, towering over Cobblepot as he stands next to the man. He was wearing a pristine black suit, his hair was styled, precise, and sheen. He’s not wearing his glasses and he was smiling.

It was not the same smile Jim had come to know, definitely not the smile he had come to call his.

No— he had said in his head repeatedly, telling himself that he was seeing things. That his alcoholism was getting to him. Not him, not him, please.

No, no— please. He breathed and begged. He looked at that smile over and over again.

Tall and lanky— dark brown hair, pale skin, sharp jawline, smiling—

Ed.

Edward, Ed— Ed was beside Cobblepot, talking to him like it was nothing as if it was something casual that they both do every day.

How, how, how. So many questions run into Jim’s mind, how did this happen? How did Cobblepot and Ed know each other, how did Ed become close to Cobblepot?

In the end, Jim knows that all the answers lead to Jim. Because Jim was the one who corrupted Ed.

Jim feels like he’s going to burn in the deepest pit of hell.

After he fully returned to GCPD, Harvey tried to talk to him about what had happened. Jim didn't tell him anything. How could he? How could he tell Harvey that it was all his fault, that he broke everything he touched?

He’s a broken man and no cleansing could fix him.

Then there were rumors— not on the streets of Gotham but between the wicked that The Mayor Chief of Staff was a killer or had killed before for Cobblepot.

Jim couldn't handle that, no, he begged and prayed that it wasn't true because Ed— Edward Nygma wouldn't do that. Edward Nygma, wouldn’t dare to return his food to the waitress despite finding onions in it, something he didn’t order.

Ed wouldn't. He wouldn't.

God, please, not Ed.

He remembered the second time he saw Ed so well.

Because it was the day he debuted himself as ‘The Riddler.’

The next time he saw Ed again, he was on the television screen. Green pristine suit covering his body, black gloves, and a bowler hat.

He’s not too focused on that— he is more focused on the fact that Ed is holding Aubrey James hostage.

“I have a question! What is this… mysterious court that controls the levers of powers in Gotham!?” His voice boomed through the television, more confident, more flamboyant.

He watched as Ed talked and talked— and there was no sign of the Edward Nygma he knew.

His fault, this is all his fault once again.

Ed was asking about The Court of Owls.

Jim felt his breath tighten, no, no, no— if The Court sees this then… then Ed would be in danger.

His fault, his fault, he ruined everything, he ruined Ed.

His phone rang, snapping Jim out of his thoughts. He took a deep breath because he knew who was on the other line.

“Are you watching the television?” One of the members of The Court of Owls chimed in, Kathryn Monroe.

“I am,” Jim muttered, his inside screams and told him to hang up.

“The court cannot be exposed. We would clean this up on our own… but there are too many eyes watching—”

“If you think I would give him up to you, then you’re wrong.” He growled through the call, his hand gripping the phone tight.

“...However, this does afford us an opportunity, James.” Monroe's voice was calm as ever as if she knew he would follow her order.

“No,” He snapped. “Nygma doesn't know what he's doing and you will leave him out of this.” Nygma. It feels so strange and foreign on Jim's lips. It has been ages since he had referred to Ed as ‘Nygma’ as if he was a stranger.

His eyes flicker to the television again, seeing Ed standing next to Aubrey James with a smug smile on his face, nothing like the sheepish caring smile he had come to love.

Maybe he has become a stranger to Jim once again.

“I understand this puts you in a difficult situation, after all… you loved him.” Jim saw red. His grip on his phone became tighter.

“How did you—”

“If you decline, this conversation will be our last. The choice is yours.” She hangs up.

His fault, god, this is all his fault. Jim puts the phone down on the desk, before holding on to it, he needs to breathe—

“Jim, Jim, hey!” Harvey put a hand on his shoulder, concerned looks written on his face. “You okay?”

No. He wanted to tell Harvey. Of course, not. He had ruined everything, first Barbara and now Ed. He broke them and they spiralled down because of Jim. His fault over and over again.

He wanted to fall to his knees, wanted to turn the television off, wanted to burn so much at this point.

“Court of Owl, they… they want him, Ed.” He croaked out, vulnerable and weak.

“Shit…” Harvey sighed, lifting his head up and rubbing his face.

“If they get to him first, they would…” He can't bring himself to say it, he can't bring himself to say that they would hurt Ed.

“Jim, this is some messed up situation you got going—”

“You think I don't know!?” Jim snapped, looking at Harvey. “This is the first time in months since I saw Ed, Harvey and he is—”

He breathed. He can’t.

“Sorry, sorry, just…” Harvey sighed again before looking at Jim cautiously.

“I could warn Ed, I could call him and warn him of what's going on,” Jim said, his eyes ignoring the television screen, he can't bear to look at Ed. “But I don't— I can't—” He feels his lips trembling. Ha hated how vulnerable he felt.

“This is your call to make, Jim,” Harvey advised. “Look, I don't know what the hell is going on with Nygma but he was your mess first, so, do what you gotta do.” He pointed at the screen that Jim was too scared to look.

And he did. Jim picked up the phone again and waited. A beat after a beat then Ed smiled through the screen answering the phone.

“Hello!” Ed’s voice sang through the call, god, it was the first time in months since he heard it, and oh, how he had missed it.

His voice wasn't as shy as it was and wasn't as careful as it was. It has become more smooth, dripping with confidence.

“Ed,” Jim called out, soft and desperate almost as if he had lost his breath.

His eyes flicker to see the television screen, seeing the smug smile dropped. And for a moment, there he was— the Edward Nygma that Jim once knew was looking at him back from the screen.

Ed’s mask quickly rebuilt itself and a makeshift smile appeared, more forced this time.

“Unexpected…” Jim heard the other man mutter, it was shaky and clearly surprised. “Jim, I’m sorry, we can't be clogging up the lines, I’m actually expecting an important call.” There was no warmth when Ed said his name.

It hurts to hear Ed say his name like that.

Ed moved away from the screen.

“You want to know who runs Gotham?” He tries to be strong, tries to sound like he doesn't want to go on his knees, and begs Ed for forgiveness right at that moment. “I have the answer, come by the GCPD, and I’ll tell it to you.”

There was a pause of uncertainty.

“I think I’ll pass on that.” Ed's voice was flat and monotone, he was trying to keep his emotions at bay.

“Then you will never know the truth. You think I told Barbara everything I know?”

“...You always were clever, Jim. I respect that.” Ed paused, he could feel Ed taking a breath. “Empty out the GCPD, I want it to be just you and me, Alone …Well, and this idiot with the bomb around his neck.” He walked up to Aurbey James, taunting the other man.

“No.” It came out, not like an order, more like a plea.

“What?”

“You’re going to let him go and I will give you information about the court.” He said with a steady tone, trying and trying so hard to sound calm and welcoming.

“Do you take me for a fool?” Ed asked, anger rushed through his voice and Jim knew he deserved it.

“I am not lying to you, Ed.” He muttered. “Let him go, take a ride with me and I will bring you to them.”

There was silence so Jim continued.

“But if you don't let Aubrey James go, then you will never get your answer.”

Ed didn't respond once again, it was just silence.

Jim thought about that night— the night he told Ed that they should break up how Ed didn't respond to Jim and how he walked away.

Why didn't Jim chase after him?

He closed his eyes, feeling all the boulders on his shoulder.

“Please.” He added, soft and weak— so brittle, a last desperate plea.

He didn't know what he was begging for. Maybe it was for Ed to come with him, for Ed to stop this, or for Ed to forgive him.

“Okay.” So many emotions that Jim could feel hiding behind one word.

Ed turned to the screen and he punched the camera.

He swears that Ed looked hurt as he did so.

They were in the car and it was silent, no words had been said between the two men for at least ten minutes now, Ed was looking at the endless night, his gun pointing at Jim.

It had hit Jim that this was the first time they had seen each other in months and Ed was pointing the gun at Jim— It hurts to think about that fact but then again, Jim couldn’t care less, because Ed is here, Ed is right here beside Jim.

He’s very well dressed, the green suit looked good on him. His hair is nicely done. He looked tired, more tired than the last time he saw Ed, there were eye bags under his eyes, so different, yet still so beautiful.

He needed to say something, anything. His heart screams so loud, so many questions, so many words he wants to say, so many apologies.

“You look well.” Jim started so carefully like Ed would disappear if he messed this up.

Ed's eyes flickered away from the road for a moment, he pursed his lips before he started speaking.

“I can’t say the same to you.” Jim was sure it was meant to be a mean, antagonizing comment but it came out softer than it should be.

Jim smiled, weak and sad, knowing all of this was his doing.

He turned his head away, looking at the road and taking in a breath.

“Do you remember the night I asked you what if it’s wrong?” He asked, his mind rewinding back at the memory of him and Ed together on the sofa at Jim’s apartment. Ed had given him so much warmth that day. “Us, I mean, …feels like a lifetime ago”

There was silence in the car once again and Jim thinks that Ed will never know how much warmth and love Ed had given him that night.

“We were watching Back to the Future.” Ed started, the dark brown gaze seemed to be lost in his own memories. “You wore a… denim blue shirt, I was wearing my basil green flannel.”

Jim was always so amazed and mesmerized by how Ed seemed to remember every detail of their lives like it was something so important and so easy to remember.

He missed it, he missed Ed speaking of everything and anything so freely, so beautifully.

“You are right, you know that right?” He heard Ed scoff. “What’s there to live for, if love is a sin?” He repeated Ed’s every word carefully.

“If this is your poor attempt at reconciling with me, I suggest you stop.” Ed’s voice cut through his words like a sharp knife.

Jim sighed and closed his mouth. He hated how cold Ed sounded, how monotone and flat it was. It was so different— It used to be so warm, so careful, and filled with so many emotions.

Ed was always better at Emotions than Jim, his face was more alive, and more animated when he talked about anything, even the smallest mundane thing. Now it feels as if Jim was the one who is better at emotion, which is nothing but ironic.

God, he missed Ed so much.

“Just— where were you?” He asked, the desperation inside him was showing.

Ed tried to chuckle, but it came out brittle and bitter.

“That would be a very… long story.” He answered.

“Then summarize it for me.” Please, was left unsaid.

Ed was silent for a moment, Jim watched as Ed’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down.

“Do you know an officer named Thomas Dougherty?” Ed asked, making Jim's eyebrows furrowed.

“He… used to work at GCPD, yeah, before he quit,” Jim answered, he turned to Ed and his eyes searched into Ed’s gaze. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Did you know he was an abuser? He hit his girlfriend, well— Ex-girlfriend,” Ed started and Jim didn’t know where Ed would go with this. When they were dating, Ed had expressed his hatred toward abusers, Jim doesn’t need to ask what had happened to know that there was a chapter of Ed’s life left untold. Jim hoped Ed would tell him someday when he was ready, but that they would never come because Jim had destroyed that opportunity.

“Her name is Kristen Kringle, she also works at GCPD.” He continued when Jim remained silent. “I have only found out recently after I quit that Dougherty would do such a thing, finding his address was harder when you don’t have any access to the files at the station anymore.”

Jim thinks he knows what is coming next.

“I confronted him one night, he attacked me, and well… I stabbed him.” There were no regrets in his voice. “Destroying a body was a hard process without all the necessary equipment but I managed.” He shrugged.

Why didn’t you come to me? Jim wanted to ask so badly but he already knew the answer.

“After that, I buried his remains in a forest.” He let out a weak huff of laughter. “Do you want to take a wild guess on who was there?”

“Penguin.” He gritted his teeth.

“In the flesh— stumbling out of a wooden cabin there, bloody and in a… critical condition” He paused for a moment. “He asked for help before passing out and I obliged.”

Jim let out a small breath, his eyes flickering down to the floor of the car, not daring to look at Ed.

“Is that how you and him meet?” He asked.

“Yes, we keep in touch ever since, and no, he doesn’t know about our… relationship and how you used and discarded me.” It was like a knife was stabbed through his heart when those words came out of Ed’s lips, venomous and bitter.

“No.” He said so quickly and shook his head. “No, I— I didn’t… I would never—“ He tried to choke it out but he couldn’t, too weak and too tired.

“But you did.” Ed quipped, he turned to look at Jim daringly while Jim’s face was still looking down. “You figured it out that you don’t need me, and oh no, you didn’t break up with me at first, you avoided me.”

Jim took a sharp breath.

“Ed—“

“I am speaking!” Ed snapped at him, his breath ragged and hurt. “You avoided me like I was nothing, like I was a freak.” Jim wanted to protest so badly, telling Ed that it wasn’t true at all, he wanted to apologize repeatedly as he begged for forgiveness.

“I was such a fool to think that you just need time, you just need more time and then you will come back to me.” He could hear the coldness in his voice breaking, replaced by something more damaged.

“But you didn’t, you never came.” Ed continued, quieter and shakier. “When you end things between us, I know, I know now that you are just like everyone else.” It came out wet and hurt and Jim could feel the dam breaking.

“I thought you would be different, but you are just like every single one of them.” Ed laughed with so much bitterness and sorrow. “Rotten.”

He could feel the tears rolling down and burning his skin, his lips were shaky when he attempted to speak.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out. “I’m so sorry.” His voice was broken like something was burning his throat.

“Sorry won’t fix any of this, Jim.” Ed spat out, witnessing all the darkness that shouldn’t be inside Ed came out hurt in an unimaginable way. Ed once was light, he once shone like a bonfire, keeping Jim warm with his light and now Jim had corrupted Ed.

“I know— I know,” He managed, his breath becoming so ragged. “I just wanted you to know that… I shouldn’t do it, I shouldn’t call it off, and I…” He tried to breathe. “I should have chased after you when you left, god, Ed.”

His voice sounded so broken and so small, so soft.

“I was so stupid to not chase after you, to not ask you to stay— I wanted you to stay, I wanted you to stay so bad.” The tears keep rolling down from his eyes.

“I thought I didn’t have a choice—“

“I was your choice.” Ed’s voice came in a whisper but was firm and sharp enough to cut Jim’s heart.

“I know, I know now… If— if it was now, I would never let you go, I wouldn’t care what other people would think, I would hold your hand in public and— and we would… we would go on a nice date together,” Despite everything, he smiled at the thought. Ed in a lovely green shirt of his, his favorite color— smiling at him as they sat together in a restaurant that Jim would choose for them. “And I would give you flowers, then I would tell you that I—“ He feels himself choked on his breath and his tears.

“I would tell you I love you.” He whispered, so fragile before turning his head to face Ed, blue eyes met Ed’s dark brown once again, tears painting the other man's face.

“I love you.” He said again, this time more firm yet so broken. He poured all the love into those three words, as if they were prayers, showing his devotion, his care, his yearning, and everything that was left unsaid.

They never said that to each other when they dated, it was because Jim was so scared at first to say it out loud to another man, so scared that he would burn as he said those words, so scared that he would need to clean himself and scrub his skin away.

So Ed crumbled, hearing those three simple words for the first time. He watched as tears rolled down the man’s face before he sobbed and looked away from Jim, his head dipped down to hide the pain and anger.

“I hate you.” Ed spat out, weak and exposed. “I hate you so much.” His voice breaks and breaks as the words pour out of his lips. “How could you just—“ A sob came out. “How could you just say that?” He looked back up at Jim and Jim could see the anger in his eyes, shielding the more fragile part of Ed.

Jim considered it for a moment before his hands slowly reached up to find Ed. Jim paused for a moment, searching for a ‘no’ in Ed’s eyes but there was none, so he continued and then Jim was cupping Ed’s face so gently.

Ed’s breath hitched and the man closed his eyes for a moment before fluttering it open slowly and looking at Jim.

He takes a good look at Ed, seeing his dark brown eyes, shining in Gotham's night sky, his skin soft as ever. There he is— Jim thought to himself, there he is, my Edward Nygma.

“I’m sorry,” Jim whispered again. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry for telling you this now, I’m sorry for being so selfish right now.” He continued, saying it repeatedly, again and again until he ran out of breath.

He brought their forehead together, resting his head against Ed and he closed his eyes, pretending for a moment that nothing bad had ever happened to them. He pretended that they had just finished their date night and that they were discussing what to do next together when they got back at Jim’s apartment, he pretended that they laughed at Jim’s stupid joke before Ed rested his forehead against Jim’s, telling him that his joke doesn’t even make sense and Jim would retorted that Ed laughed anyway.

But it was not true. Jim let out a small sob before opening his eyes to see that Ed was looking back. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

Ed was grabbing his ties pulling them closer, Jim’s hands moved to the back of Ed’s head then their lips met, soft and yearning.

He kissed Ed with so much love, so much affection, giving everything he had to Ed and Ed returned the favor. Ed kissed him with the same if not even more love and sweetness. Ed's lips still feel as soft as ever, as soft as the first time they kissed. It was as if they were back outside Ed’s apartment once again. Jim was so confused at that time.

When they were dating, when Ed kissed him— sometimes Jim pretended that Ed was a woman, he had thought it would have been easier if he pretended Ed was a woman for a moment, that he would feel cleaner as Ed baptized him with those kisses. He knows— he knows now that he’s not kissing anyone, he’s not kissing a woman, he’s kissing someone he loved, someone he needed destructively so. He’s kissing Ed.

They kissed. And to Jim, it feels like a goodbye.

They pulled out, staring at each other for a moment before resting their forehead against each other again, Jim could feel Ed’s soft breath against his.

“Thank you,” Jim breathed out so softly.

He needed that and he needed so much more.

“No,” Ed started. “Thank you,” Ed said and it felt more and more like a goodbye with every second.

He tried to say something, he opened his mouth but then they saw a car coming in their way.

No— no, no, no, no, please. He needed more time, there were still so many things he hadn’t said.

Ed quickly pulled away and Jim felt so empty and cold at that moment.

“Who are they?” Ed asked, his eyes focused on the woman who had come out of the car.

“The answer to your question.” Jim croaked out and Ed turned his attention back to Jim and there it was again— Ed’s makeshift mask, covering the softness and the emotions.

“Please don’t,” Jim begged, his voice breaking once again. “Stay.”

A word he should’ve said so long ago when Ed was walking out of Jim’s apartment with such aloofness came out of his mouth with so much desperation.

“I can’t,” Ed said firmly, wiping his tears away.

“They’re going to hurt you.” He whispered, feeling the tears rolling down his face once again. “They’re powerful, Ed— they will hurt you and I— I don’t know if I can save you.” He wanted to go back, he wanted to go back when it was just them together, watching cheap stupid movies on Jim’s couch.

Ed smiled, bitter yet so soft at Jim, a smile that was just for Jim.

“Thank you for telling me.” He said weakly. “Goodbye, Jim.” He said with so many emotions in those words, in Jim’s name, like this would be the last time Ed would get to say Jim’s name like that. With love and warmth.

And Jim knows that was true.

Jim watched as Ed stepped out of the car and he cried as he watched Edward Nygma disappear from the world and The Riddler rose.

So many things have happened since then, with Gotham, With its people, with Barbara, Lee, Jim and then there’s Ed— He became the Riddler. Cobblepot and Ed seem to still work together, they are close, and sometimes Jim wonders if they are together. Most of the times that he had seen Ed would be when the man tried to get Gotham’s attention with Penguin. They are so close to each other, Ed smiles as Cobblepot talks and Jim wishes that was him.

He and Ed would catch glimpses of each other sometimes, the stolen glances before they pretended that they were strangers. Jim looked at Ed every time with such remorseful eyes, wanting Ed to know what he was sorry for, that he wished they were different people with more time and no millions of boulders on their shoulders and Ed would look back with an unreadable expression as if he can’t let all those emotions, all those secrets out before he looked away as if Jim was invisible.

It was like this, even when it was hell on Gotham and they fought together side by side, they were strangers. Jim had been so scared, he thought Ed would have gotten hurt and Jim wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop that. He was so relieved when it was all over and Ed was alive.

Then Jim was promoted to be police commissioner, amongst the guests, the cheers and the laughter, Jim spotted him, Ed. He was wearing a dark green suit— it looked so good on him, it would be so perfect if they could use this moment to dance together but they couldn’t have that, he couldn’t have that. Ed gazed at Jim, his eyes lingered on Jim for a moment and something in Ed softened before turning his attention back to Cobblepot.

If Jim knew then that this would be one of the last few times he would see Ed, he would have taken that chance and asked Ed for a dance or maybe even just talk to the man, because the next thing he knew, Cobblepot and Ed were caught. They were going to send Cobblepot to Blackgate for ten years and Ed— oh, Ed. They wanted him in Arkham. They wanted Ed to stay in Arkham. Jim tried, he tried so hard to get Ed to stay anywhere but Arkham. He was willing to grease the palms of people who could put Ed in Blackgate instead but he failed, god he failed.

Ed was in Arkham and he didn’t know how long would it take to get Ed out and Jim was sure Ed hated him— he still thinks about that night, the night when it was just him and Ed in the car together as Jim told Ed he loves Ed and Ed said that he hated Jim back while they cried, Jim was so sure that Ed would still say the same thing.

So he writes letters. He writes letters, sending them to Arkham, to Ed as he tries to move on from the pain and the yearning. He wasn’t sure if Ed would even read them but he makes sure that he writes ‘I’m sorry’ in every letter he has sent.

He tried to move on when he started a relationship with Lee— they were happy, raising Barbara or as Lee liked to call her ‘Babs’ together, and Barbara would visit them sometimes to see her daughter. Everything was fine and he was fine— maybe happy even, but only for a while before things started to crumble down years later.

He tried so hard to be happy with his life— He tried so hard but it wasn’t right. He looked at the pictures of him and Lee together, happy but Jim felt like he was living someone else’s life, a life that was not his.

And then he thinks about Ed. He thinks about the night outside Ed’s apartment, he thinks about Ed on his sofa, he thinks about waking up next to that messy dark brown hair and he thinks about that night back in the car.

His life was with Ed.

Lee and he broke things off, it wasn’t bitter, and Lee wasn’t angry or disappointed at him, Jim thinks she understood why he broke things off with her. He had told her about Ed, about everything that they were before Ed became The Riddler and Lee took it well and said that Jim was an idiot before kissing his forehead.

Jim could only laugh weakly, agreeing with her.

Cobblepot was released around the same time Gotham found its new savior in the shape of a masked vigilante. He called himself ‘Batman’. If someone told Jim ten years ago that there would be some masked bastard running around the city, saving its people in the name of justice, he would’ve laughed.

Several months after Batman became the protector of Gotham, there were rumors among people who hadn’t forgotten what had happened all those chaotic years ago in Gotham. Rumors that The Riddler had got out of Arkham. Ed had gotten out of Arkham.

Jim wasn’t sure if he should put his faith in the gossips of the streets but deep inside, his soul begged every day for it to be true. He wanted it to be true— then maybe he could finally, god, finally see Ed again, and maybe they would pretend like they were strangers once again, a game they played before but he would choose that every day rather than not having Ed in his life at all.

The yearning became more desperate and aching when it was the day of their anniversary, it would’ve been more than ten years since they were together now if he had been braver, escaped those flames, and not let Ed go.

There was a church he liked to visit when he was a child. He still went there sometimes. As a child, he remembers being in a choir, he wasn’t the best at singing and was even embarrassed to sing because he had thought it was too feminine to be singing.

Looking back at the memories, he wanted to tell that child that it is okay to sing and that there is nothing wrong with acting too softly at all.

He visited that church today, on their anniversary. It was empty, almost abandoned even. Light glistening from the window down to the floor, Jim observed around the once polished church now old and dusty, clearly hadn’t been taken care of in a while.

He sat down on the first aisle, beneath the window that was crafted with devotion and faith in God depicting Mother Mary gazing down upon him.

It’s funny to him sometimes that after all these years of self-hatred and confusion, he still finds comfort in a place like this. Human emotions are such complicated matters that after decades Jim still hasn't figured it all out yet.

He didn’t pray— he hadn't prayed in a long time, he just sat there and closed his eyes and let time pass through. There aren't many chances for him to relax like this in a long time, he thinks about Gotham, its beautiful suburb, then he thinks about Babs, she’s growing so fast— Jim doesn’t know how he could deal with his little girl growing up, or the fact that she seems to idolized the man beneath the bat mask a little too much.

And then he thinks about Ed. He couldn’t help but wonder what Ed would be up to nowadays if the rumors were true if Ed really was released from Arkham. Would Ed be intrigued by who Batman was? Would he return to Cobblepot?

He must have been sitting here for far too long because the next thing he knew there was someone sitting next to him. Jim opened his eyes and glanced at the figure next to him and then—

He turned his head to fully look at the man sitting next to him. The man was wearing a white shirt, a darkish grey vest covering that white fabric, his tie was lavender purple, and a pair of pants that matched the color of the vest.

He looked at the man’s dark brown eyes.

Ed—

Ed was here, Ed was here right next to him— sitting next to him like it was nothing.

His hair got longer and curlier, his hair fell just past the end of his ears, curling and brushing lightly against his neck. There were only a few streaks of grey hair and Ed wore them beautifully.

“Ed.” The name came out of JIm’s lips as if he was out of breath.

“Took you long enough to notice.” Ed hummed, his voice was calm and collected, though Jim noticed that his shoulder had stiffened.

Jim had missed that voice, Jim had missed it so much, it was so soothing and so warm and Jim could still drown in it any day.

“Ed.” He said it again, as if trying to confirm that he was real, that Ed was sitting next to him.

Ed didn’t look at him back, he huffed out an amused chuckle and rolled his eyes.

“Hello, Jim.” He greeted.
Ed was sitting next to him, there was only a gap separating them apart. He wanted to close that gap so badly.

“You’re… You’re out.” He stated, feeling foolish as the words came out of his mouth.

“Yes, haven’t you heard?” Ed asked, he still wasn’t facing Jim.

“I thought, I thought it wasn’t true.” He murmured, his eyes flickering up and down, scanning Ed’s features. Ed’s skin was still smooth, and he only spotted a few lines of wrinkles, Ed still had eyebags and his jawline was sharp as ever— Ed still looked so beautiful even after all these years, even after spending his time in Arkham of all places.

“Well, I am offended that you think I couldn’t get out.” There was no malice in his voice and for a moment there was hope. “…though Oswald did pull some strings.” Ed’s lips curled into a small smirk, he then proceeded to grin.

Jim could look at the sight forever.

“Right,” He cleared his throat quietly and pursed his lips. “You and Penguin, are you—”

“No,” Ed answered firmly, there was an edge of softness in his answer. “We… we tried, but it didn’t work out.” Ed frowned, looking down on the floor.

Jim wanted to ask why, there were so many questions Jim wanted to ask at the moment, how are you? When did you get out? Why are you here?

“I supposed…” Ed continued, “I am not someone who moves on easily,” He finally turned his face to look at Jim, the light shining through the man’s face perfectly and oh, Jim had missed staring at him.

It was the first time in a decade he was this close to Ed, feeling his presence and his warmth after all these years, he was so grateful that Ed would even let Jim be near him after what had gone down with them.

Jim breathed, he flicked his eyes up and down, looking at the man’s eyes and his lips.

“Me too.” He said quietly.

Ed snorted and looked away once again, a part of him wanted to gently pull Ed’s face back.

They sat there together in silence, Jim was not there to say anything, afraid that if he uttered his words, making the wrong move Ed would disappear from him once again and he couldn’t have that anymore after losing Ed far too many times.

“How are you, Ed?” He finally managed out cautiously, glancing at the other man.

“I got out after uh…” Ed rolled his eyes and let out a rather dramatic sigh. “After our ‘Caped Crusader’ makes himself known.” Ed scoffed, lifting his hands to make an imaginary quotation mark and Jim smiled a little at Ed’s movement, he seemed alive, more alive and animated than those few times Jim had seen Ed.

“You mean Batman.” Jim hummed.

“You call him Batman, I call him a lunatic in a fursuit.” Ed quipped, “Though the identity of our vigilante here intrigues me.”

“You think you can figure that out?” Jim lets himself relax more after so many years.

“Please.” Ed looked almost offended by Jim’s comment.

Jim smiled and smiled— he missed this, he missed Ed.

“How did you…” He furrowed his eyebrows. “How did you find me?” He asked.

“This is the day of our anniversary and you said to me a few times that you like to come here,” Ed shrugged. “So I took my chance.”

“Oh.” Jim smiled at the implication that Ed still remembered those details, those details in Jim’s life.

“I told you I never forget anything, didn’t I?” Ed asked with a small smug smile and Jim let out a small chuckle and dipped his head down, looking at the floor

“Yeah, I… I remembered.” He smiled at the memory.

“After I get out, I find an apartment to live in, laying low for now.” He noticed that Ed was playing with his fingers once again, it seems like old habit never dies— Jim finds himself being glad at that.

“I was considering letting it all go— The Riddler.” Ed continued to talk and Jim listened. “It was fun for a while— I mean all the attention? I loved them.” Ed pursed his lips before looking down.

“But..?” Jim tried to search for his eyes.

“But the thrill, the fun dried down eventually. I still liked it, I still liked the riddles— but nothing can capture the happiness that I had when…” Ed trailed off and Jim hoped Ed would finish that sentence because Jim needed the confirmation that it was what Jim was thinking.

“I think that’s for the best, Ed,” Jim said softly.

“I was thinking of being a private investigator when I got out.” Ed continued. “Or at least tried to.”

“Really?” Jim asked, it’s good to see that there are still passions in Ed’s heart.

“I still want to solve all the puzzles in this city somehow.” He hummed.

Ed paused for a moment before letting out a hum and letting his body relax more. The church fell into silence once again.

“You know, I got your letters,” Ed said suddenly and Jim snapped his head to look at Ed, feeling his face reddening slightly.

“You did?” Jim asked.

“I read them,” He saw Ed’s lips slowly curled into a smile, that smile— the smile that Jim came to call his and the smile that Jim had lost a long time ago.

“Every one of ‘em..?” Jim murmured.

“Yes— you’re quite a sentimental man, Jim.” There was fondness in Ed’s voice and Jim wanted Ed to repeat those words again and again just to hear the fondness and the affection.

“I just—“ He laughed nervously, feeling rather stupid. “I just wanted to give you something, anything— I tried. Y’know? I tried to get you to be put in Blackgate instead but—“ He sighed.

“It didn’t work,” Ed responded.

“I’m sorry.” Jim offered softly.

“I know,” Ed said with softness, there was no anger. “I… To be honest, I don’t know what I would do with you, with all of this—“ He motioned his hand between the both of them. “When I got out. I thought I would just let it go, leave you alone, and I want it to hurt you.”

Jim took in a small sharp breath.

“But then I started getting the letters— And everything was confusing again.” He laughed weakly and shook his head. “And I wanted you again.” He said it quietly.

Jim looked as Ed’s head was focused on the floor, his eyes glued to the cold concrete ground.

“We have been pretending that there was nothing between us for so long—“ Ed sighed. “…It’s getting stupid.” He mumbled.

Jim wanted to reach out, he wanted to hold Ed’s hand, feeling the soft skin he had yearned for so long against his, and keep Ed safe.

“I…” Jim opened his mouth. “If this is anything, I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Ed didn’t answer Jim for a while and Jim let the quietness sink in as Ed continued to look down on the floor.

“Me too.” Ed managed out, soft and vulnerable, like he was exposing every part of himself.

Jim wanted to hold him and take all that pain away.

“Hey,” He said softly and Ed glanced at him.

He didn’t take his eyes off Ed as he slowly lifted himself up from his seat and down on his knees in front of Ed. The man looked confused at first, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrow.

“Jim, what—?”

“I’m making a promise and… saying sorry properly.” He said gently, his hands slowly reaching up to cup Ed’s hands in his.

Ed didn’t let go.

Ed’s hands rest there and Jim protects it like he is worshipping it.

He looked up, into Ed’s softened gaze, his eyes shining gracefully, his hair curling in all the way that can only be defined as beautiful.

He’s kneeling down on the floor of an old damaged church while holding Ed together with warmth and love and everything he can give. Ed looked so beautiful like this.

“I’m sorry for hurting you and letting you go because I was a coward,” Jim said so softly, his thumbs brushed against Ed’s hand, drawing a small circle around it. “I’m sorry for pretending that there were no us all these years.”

He can feel Ed’s breathing.

“I know now, I know from the moment I lost you that I’ve lost so much, I’m sorry for not chasing after you, for not chasing someone I love.” He chanted the apologies again and again, so gently, making sure Ed knew it. “And I promised— I don’t know what the future holds but I want to be there, be a part of your life and I will be anyone you want.”

He squeezed Ed’s hands and continued to hold Ed’s gaze, Ed didn’t say anything for a while, so Jim kneeled there, waiting to respond, admiring Ed.

Ed then breaks free from Jim’s grasp and slowly reaches out to hold Jim’s face and Jim lets him— resting into the softness and warmth of Ed’s hands, his breath as he feels Ed’s hands against his face, closing his eyes and letting out a shaky breath.

He looked up at Ed once again.

“You’re still so beautiful,” He murmured. “Still my Edward Nygma.”

There were so many emotions behind Ed’s eyes, something he hadn’t seen in so many years, he looked at Jim with such softness and so many more beautiful emotions that Jim couldn’t even describe.

“This will be hard for me,” Ed said gently. “But I want you to be there with me.”

Jim’s lips curled into a small smile and Ed smiled back. Ed lets his hands go from JIm’s face and offers Jim a hand. Jim took it with no hesitation.

They were standing now— so close to each other, he could see every detail of E’s face.

Ed hasn’t let their hand go yet, so he holds it there, cherishing it.

Jim’s eyes flicker down to Ed’s lips, he holds his gaze there for a while before he feels Ed’s hand on the back of Jim’s head.

“You could just ask,” Ed whispered he saw Ed’s lips curl into a smile before his lips touched Ed’s

And finally, he yearns and wishes for this day to come— the day he gets to have Ed again, the day they are something to each other once again, the day he will not feel so lost anymore.

He kissed Ed, spilling all the lost years between them into the kiss, all the missed opportunity, all the what could’ve been, and all the what ifs into this one kiss.

They break free from each other after they need to breathe— Ed smiled, he smiled at Jim so freely once again, so light and it was as if they were young again.

Ed smiled like that day at GCPD, evidence bag dangling down, Ed excitedly asked Jim and Harvey what it was, their eyes met for the first time, dark brown eyes filled with life met his whirlpool of blue, so many confusion and fears buried deep in his own gaze—

“Wanted to make sure you’re fine with it,” Jim answered and Ed chuckled small and gentle while he shook his head, he reached to touch Jim’s shoulder and gained some balance and Jim took in all the warmth.

—Ed had asked him that riddle, that riddle that made Ed’s eyes spark up like there were thousand upon thousand stars hiding behind those eyes that burst into an explosion. Ed looked at him back then with such amazement.

“So many lost years…” Ed murmured as he looked at Jim with a hesitant look.

Jim was so confused by Ed’s actions back then and he burned ever since he knew Edward Nygma.

“We will make up for it,” Jim reassured, giving Ed a small, quick kiss, Ed smiled with satisfaction at the kiss and Ed squeezed their hands, making Jim fall more and more than he thought he ever could. “Thank you for giving me a chance.” He whispered.

“You came back to me,” Ed responded, soft and sweet.

Those flames were gone the moment he realized Ed saved him.