We Were Born Sick • Gotham Fanfiction •

XXII: The Ties That Bind

You think my bruised knees are sort of pretty
And I think your tired eyes are kind of nice
And when I first met you, there was a garden
Growing from a black hole in my mind - Halsey, Garden

~()~

~(Flashback)~

"W-what can I do to help?" Oswald stammered as he shut the door to Bird's apartment behind them.

Slightly stumbling, Bird let out a pained groan and leaned against her wall as she looked down to her bloodstained shirt and tilted her head back in hopes of controlling the steady stream of blood pouring from her nostrils.

"I think it's broken." She managed to hiss as she reached a hand up to her nose but it was too painful to even touch.

"I... um..." Oswald breathed, wishing he could assure her the damage wasn't severe, but he saw the already dark bruising forming on her face. "I'll just get you a washcloth." His words came with a shrug of the shoulders as he passed her and went into her small, but overcrowded kitchen.

When he returned, he came to a stop just in front of her and hesitated with the warm, wet rag in his hand before he tried to reach out and place it against her swollen and still bleeding nose. Almost immediately she slapped his hands away and roughly jerked the cloth away from him.

Taking a couple steps backwards, he watched her and could tell by the look in her eyes that she was angry with him. He was sure she was placing all the blame solely on his shoulders, but the weight felt unjust to him –seeing as how he'd never asked her to get involved in the first place.

"Perhaps you should sit down?" He offered, stepping to the side to allow her a direct route to her couch.

"Perhaps you shouldn't be stealing from people who are twice your size and that you can't manage to out run!" She shot back at him, as she moved in an unsteady pace over to her couch, before dropping into a seat and leaning her head back.

Sitting down next to her, Oswald looked at his bloody and swollen knuckles from his attempt to fight back against the men who'd given him a beating. A beating which surely would have been much worse if Bird hadn't come to his aid; which resulted in her taking the worst of it and possibly ending up with a broken nose.

Reaching a hand up to his own face, he felt the stickiness of the drying blood beneath his fingertips and cringed as he rubbed over where the skin had been busted open over his cheekbone.

Clearing his throat, his voice was a little unsteady as he began to say, "Bird, I must apologize-"

"Every time you start an apology that way means it's about as insincere as they come. So just save it."

He bit down on the side of his tongue at the snappiness in her voice and used every ounce of restraint he possessed to not snap back at her.

"Well..." He breathed, "I don't recall asking for your assistance, Bird."

"Would you have preferred I just turned the other cheek and watch them beat you to death?" She asked with a bitter tasting laugh that seemed to find its way right under his skin and for a single fleeting moment questioned why he continued to put up with her. That was until he looked back over at her and was instantly reminded of how deep his feelings had grown for his best friend, so much so that he now felt helpless. No matter what, there was no escaping it. He couldn't leave her even if he wanted to.

Raising her head back up and looking at him, her mouth hung open from the coppery taste of blood stinging the tip of her tongue and for the first time she realized how bad and bloodied his own face was.