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It was irrational. Stupid. An urge that had no explanation.
At least, that's what Edward Nygma was trying to tell himself.
In the low light of the club, Ed had the perfect vantage point over the dance floor from where he stood on the balcony. He could see the drunken women ordering fancy cocktails that would wipe them out, he could see the young men trying out their chat up lines in the shadows, and he could see the people paired off and dancing the night away. They were irrelevant, tiny minds that were drinking themselves into oblivion before they had to crawl back to their boring lives. Some drank to gain courage, to kiss someone they were nervous about making a move on. They drank to forget, they drank to forgive, and they drank to faith. Ed could see the people who consumed the criminal empire.
He could see Oswald.
Someone brushed against his arm, and Ed turned to snap at them, only to come face to face with the overly amused grin of Barbara.
"Hey Eeeeeed." She said, moving to lean on the railing with him. "Shocking how lax the security is here right? I just waltzed in.” There’s a pause, and when he doesn’t respond Barbara speaks again. “See anything good?"
Ed clenches his jaw, forcing himself not to narrow his gaze back down to where he knows the Penguin is. "No."
Barbara clicks her tongue, and rests her chin on one hand. "Really? I think I see something interesting."
"What do you want?" Ed growls, flicking between watching Oswald and monitoring the bar.
Barbara giggles, and nods down towards the dance floor. "I want to see some excitement, and I think you're the man for it."
"I doubt that. People don't often refer to me as exciting."
"Mhm, I believe you. But, I can see a way for this to become exciting." Barbara said in a low voice, looking up at Ed.
Ed didn't respond.
"You see," Barbra continued, as if Ed had expressed any kind of interest. "We both know now that your feelings of friendship towards a certain bird aren't quite the same as they once were now I've opened your eyes. Angry as you are about the librarian incident, you can't help but appreciate the act. Right so far?"
Ed doesn't respond again, but he's stopped flicking his gaze around the club, zeroing into one spot.
Barbra grins. "Right. Sooo, that brings us to why you're here."
"Why are you here?" Ed asks, not turning his head away from the floor below.
"We'll get there. We're talking about why you're here. Are you going to tell me or shall I spell it out for you?" Barbra asks with an arch of an eyebrow.
Ed's eye twitches, and his hands move to wrap around the top of the railing, knuckles turning white. "If you know where's the point in telling you?"
"I like to hear myself being right." Barbra says with a shrug of one shoulder.
Ed is quiet for a moment. "I'm here for revenge."
Barbara laughs. "Ugh huh. Sure. You've had countless better opportunities to murder Oswald. You don't want to kill him, as much as that disappoints me."
"What do I want? Enlighten me." Ed growls, leaning forwards over the rail.
Barbara's jaw hangs slack as she follows his line of sight, and the shit eating grin that appears on her face would terrify lesser beings. "Ohhhh. See something you don't like Nygma?"
On the floor below, Oswald has had a fair few glasses of wine. Gabe stands watch at the edge of the club, but Oswald? Oswald is at the centre of the dancing, and he's not alone. With him is a tall man with firm shoulders and slicked back hair. He's dressed in a light blue suit that seems to be illuminated in the darkness, like a beacon calling to Ed. Oswald's dancing partner is stuck to his side, and their dancing grows sloppier as the drink takes its hold. Ed can see them grinding up against each other, faces too close and too personal. The strobe lighting flickers across Oswald's dark purple suit, his tie long since loosened and hanging around his neck. His hair is flatter than usual, and his striking blue gaze is fixed onto the other man, a pleased smirk plastered across his face. His hands are gripped onto the front of the blue suit. They lean in too close, and Ed can pinpoint the exact moment their lips brush.
The intense surge of jealousy was expected, but not to this degree. He's never felt angrier, never wanted to kill anyone quite as badly as he wants to kill this man.
"Ed."
It's Barbra's voice that stops him vaulting over the rail. He's leaning so far over it he's surprised she didn't push him just for the fun of it. "What?" He snaps, his grip on the railing so tight he thinks his fingers might have fused in that position.
She looks horrifically pleased with herself. "I said, I think my point has been made."
Ed doesn't turn back to the dance floor. If he does, he's not sure what he'll do. "But your motive has not. What do you gain from this? Make no mistake, Ms Kean, I know what you're trying to initiate."
"Not much work to do really, you've both done it all yourself. You just needed the nudge." She shrugs, and leans back. "Me? All in good time Ed. For now I need a happy and complacent Penguin or a dead Penguin. Seeing as I won't be getting a dead bird any time soon, who better to make him happy than the man he truly craves?"
"You think if he's happy he'll let your plot slide?" Ed growls, but Barbra interrupts before he can follow the train of thought.
"Distraction is what I'm after for the moment. Now, I think you should run along and forgive Penguin and kill whoever that horrific dancer is before they both disappear, and we'll all live happily ever after." She steps forward, leaning in to whisper in his ear as his gaze slowly turns back to the dance floor below. "You want him, Ed. He killed for you. Kill for him."
He can practically feel the darkness wash over him as she firmly plants the idea in his head. He’s tried for the past however many weeks to ignore these simmering feelings; to push down the warmth he felt. Ed should still be furious about the murder of Isabella, but he finds his anger wanes with each passing hour. Especially here. Especially now with Oswald dancing with someone else. Kissing someone else.
Edward Nygma does not forgive easily. Broken trust is something he can't comprehend, but. He knows he and Oswald deal with love in a similar fashion. He'd killed Doughty for Miss Kringle, and yet when he told her she’d rejected him. He’d done it to protect her, because he cared about her but she hadn’t been able to see past the murder.
Oswald killed Isabella, and... Ed had done exactly the same as Miss Kringle. He had had his own doubts about dating her, doubts that Oswald shared. He may have had an ulterior motive Ed was not privy to at the time but the point still stood. Oswald had killed her because he cared about Ed, he didn’t want to see him get hurt. Ed hadn’t seen that before.
But now? Now Ed understands, and he does not want to end up on the outside of Oswald's affections. He wants to be the centre of it.
“I can be the first sign of death, or help with your next meal. You could say I am persuasive, even if I'm rather dull. There is many a time when I, however, am not dull, and best be avoided especially in hands that are not your own. What am I?” Ed growls, heat flaring in his gaze as he watches the moving bodies on the floor below.
It takes Barbara a second, and then her wide grin appears on her face. “A knife.”
Without a word of confirmation to Barbara, Ed disappears down the stairs, and Barbara laughs as she settles to watch the coming carnage.
X
The beat of the music down here was overly bass, and Ed's snarl increased purely because of his disgust that anyone could enjoy this. Neon lights flashed across his pale face, and people who weren't drunk enough to have lost their wits moved out of his way quickly.
His target was easy to find. The pale blue suit looked ridiculous, and the man was doing a piss poor job of dancing in Edward's opinion.
Glancing to the left, Ed calculated he had a maximum fifteen second window before Gabe would notice him and jump in, so he would move quickly. He wasn’t sure of the orders these men had now, whether he would be shot down for being so close, but Oswald hadn't spotted him yet, too engrossed in this excuse of a man.
Ed's rage began to bubble, watching lips that were not his own exploring along Oswald's neck. Stepping into the mass of dancing people, Ed made his move.
Lunging forwards, Ed gripped around one of blue suit's shoulders, yanking him back and off balance. As his weight shifts and his legs scrabble to right himself, Ed is ready. He glares across at a shocked Oswald as his knife slides into the side of his victim’s neck, like he was made of butter. He jerks his wrist as he sees Gabe move, letting blood spray out and across the both of them.
Oswald's half opened his mouth, trying to keep his expression schooled into anger and shock, but in his drunken state he can't quite keep it up. Ed can see it slip as Gabe approaches and locks his arms behind his back, forcing him to drop the slowly bleeding man to the floor.
Screaming erupts around them as the dark red oozes across the illuminated dance floor, painting a pattern in the white.
Oswald's gaze is black, and he sways slightly where he's stood, blood spatters ruining his perfectly tailored purple suit. "Release him." He demands, and Gabe hesitates but obeys.
Ed's lip curls as he shakes his arms out, stepping straight into the pool of blood to get closer to Oswald, bloodied knife still in hand.
"Why?" Oswald asks, though from the darkness in his eyes, he knows the answer.
Ed leans forwards, using his height to his advantage as he gets closer, forcing Oswald to look up at him. "I didn't like him."
Oswald can’t refuse the challenge. He steps forward, chest almost touching Ed. He’s so close Ed can see how blown his pupils are, how laboured his breathing is, how his gaze flicks to his lips. “What gives you the right?” The Penguin hisses.
The malicious smirk that crosses Ed’s face seems to rile Oswald even more, and Ed can see him swallowing hard as he leans in impossibly close. “It gave you the right. It dances and skips, it's read in the eyes but it cheats with the hips. If it meets its match it's easily caught, but it's worth nothing if it is bought.”
“I don’t like riddles.” Oswald growls, “Especially ones that turn up after weeks of torment and kill my date.”
Ed ignores the heat that’s rising in his chest. The date was dead, and the torment would end. “Do you want to know the answer?”
Oswald doesn’t dignify that with a response, simply offers an annoyed look.
Leaning forwards, Ed closes the distance between them with a predatory intent. He’s on Oswald before he can start to back away from the advance. Their lips meet with a clash of teeth, and for a moment, it’s entirely one sided. Ed begins to pull away, a cold dread seeping up his spine. Has he missed his chance? Has he misread the signs? Is it too late? But before he can break away from the Penguin, there are hands tangling in his hair and an insistent tongue demanding a better kiss. It’s angry and desperate; a heated mix of rage and desire, and Edward has never felt so powerful. They break apart panting, a dangerous glint to both their gazes.
“The heart.” Ed says.
Oswald makes a face of confusion. “What?”
“The answer to the riddle. It’s a heart, and you have mine. I’d like to think I’ve killed my way into acquiring yours.”
The Penguin laughs, gripping hold of Ed’s tie to drag him back for a sweeter kiss.
“Ed. You had it already.”