We Were Born Sick • Gotham Fanfiction •

VII: Lady Wayne

"If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading." - Lao Tzu

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Leaned up against the headboard of Bird's bed, Oswald repeatedly opened and closed the switchblade knife as he watched her sleep beside him.

It had been more than a few hours since she'd had a nightmare that was apparently bad enough that she'd thrown herself from the bed in her sleep. The thud had immediately woke him up from where he'd been sleeping on the couch and after grabbing an iron poker from next to the fireplace and stubbing a toe on his bad leg, he'd scrambled into her room where he found her thrashing around next to her bed trying to get her top sheet and blanket untangled from her body.

He would have tried to help her, but it wasn't until he was sure she was safe that the intense pain from his accidental collision with the coffee table hit him full force and all he could manage to do was hobble over to the foot of her bed while repeatedly groaning at the throbbing pain –of course, he thought, of course he'd have to further damage his already injured leg while she continued to struggle to break free of her tangled fabric mess.

Rubbing his tired eyes, he realized it had to be about an hour since she'd flailed her legs in her sleep and woke him up when she kicked him. He knew she was already prone to having nightmares, but he had no idea what was haunting her mind that night –whatever it was; it was almost enough to make him go back to the couch and leave her to fight it on her own. But like the good friend he considered himself to be to her, he wanted to stay there in case she startled herself awake again.

He'd been absentmindedly playing with the knife since he discovered it while snooping through the nightstand on the side of the bed he was sleeping in. He'd also found several bottles of pills in her name, most of the medication names he'd never heard of and a few small unlabeled bags of pills were also scattered around in the drawer.

To this day, he still had no idea what all she was taking but he swore almost every time he saw her she was taking another pill for something. A part of him wondered if she'd mixed something she shouldn't have and that what was making her dreams so intense that night. Of course, he knew better than to bring that up to Bird, she'd immediately get defensive and angry at him for going through her things.

He'd been thinking back to the earlier days of their friendship while he watched Bird restlessly toss and turn in her apparently tormented sleep state. When they'd first started talking about taking over Gotham City,  years ago, he really wasn't sure if it was just a joke between them or if they were being serious.

For a while, it didn't seem to matter. Even if it had started as a joke, it was something they both needed. It had given her a reason to get out of the asylum and for him, it had been the start of at least somewhat healing from his years of torment.

His mother had always told him that he was clever and handsome, she'd never doubted he'd be someone. But that's what mother's were supposed to do, the good ones anyhow, so while it was a nice encouragement it wasn't until he realized Bird truly believed in him that he started to believe more in himself.

He didn't know if he believed in fate, mostly the world seemed a barely controlled chaos and at times the notion that everything happened for a reason wasn't plausible. He couldn't help but feel their crossing paths was no coincidence, most days he'd even say they were destined to meet that night in the ally.

Oswald often wondered where they'd both be if they'd never became friends. He figured that Bird would have probably been spending time in and out of institutions, back when they'd met she seemed to have no drive to actually leave the one she'd been placed in or maybe she'd have even folded to what her parents wanted and she'd be off at some Ivy League college right now. As for himself, he really had no idea what he'd be doing –maybe a career criminal or something similar.