Nygmobblepot Fluff

Connecting

I brought him to my home. I undressed him, changed him, and tucked him into my bed. What else was I supposed to do? Mr. Penguin was an injured soul crying out for help. I had sedated him, and later found myself trying to take mental notes of his features. Fair skin, jet-black hair....

I'm currently sitting at the edge of the bed, wondering if Mr. Penguin will wake up anytime soon, if ever. I pull the covers back over his shoulders so he isn't cold. A moment later, his dazzling green eyes flutter open. Mr. Penguin looks around frantically and sits up.

"Where am I?!" he asks. "Who are- I know you! Why did you bring me here, where am-"

"My name is Edward Nygma," I respond. "We've met at the GCPD. You were-"

"Why did you bring me here, Edward Nygma?"

"I was explaining, Mr. Penguin. You were horribly injured when I found you in the woods. I am now nursing you back to health." He sits up and stares at me. I break away from the look, but I can still feel his eyes on me.

Finally, he asks, "Why are you doing this?" I look back at him. I haven't really thought about why I brought the ever-so notorious Oswald Cobblepot into my home. He was hurt, and I helped him. That was it... right?

I realize that he's still waiting for an answer, but I can't come up with one. "I... I'm not really sure. Just a random act of kindness, I guess. I couldn't take your anywhere else, sir, or-"

"Thank you," he says. I'm surprised to hear this. "And Mr. Nygma-"

"Ed. Please, just call me Ed," I say politely.

"Oh, okay, Ed... Ed, I'm Oswald. I don't know why you're being so kind, and this probably comes with a catch, but...." Oswald's voice trails off in confusion. "Um, Ed? Where are my clothes? A-are these yours?" He looks down at the nightclothes I dressed him in, flushed. His glance comes back to meet my eyes. "Did... you change me?"

My cheeks feel hot. I look down. "The clothes I found you in were bloody and dirty. I'm sorry if I've caused you any discomfort." I bite my lip.

Oswald has a ghost of a smile when I look back up at him. He looks down. "No, um, no, I appreciate it... Is this your bed?" I nod. "Oh, well, I can sleep on the couch, and I'll leave as soon as possible. I know I'm wanted, but-"

"No, Oswald. You're both wanted and injured. I welcome you here, and I will be the one sleeping on the couch. You've been through enough. Now get some rest." I smile at Oswald, and he grins back. I walk over to my couch and set up my sleeping arrangements. For someone of my height, this is rather uncomfortable. But I want Oswald to be heathy and relaxed. In my bed, in my clothes, until he leaves me.

*3 days later*

Oswald has seemed rather sad lately. He's been talking in his sleep... About former mayor Theo Galavan and his mother. I'm still trying to figure out the connection.  I would ask, but there is no need to upset my guest even more.

I make him a grilled cheese sandwich, hoping it would somehow lift his spirits. Oswald thanks me for the food and wipes a single tear from his face.
-

After Oswald finishes the lunch I prepared for him, I ask, "What's bothering you? I don't mean to pry, you just seem... Sad."