philtatos :: multi drabbles

nygmobblepot: vile romance

VILE ROMANCE
summary: Oswald is alive and sopping wet. From the sea. Which he just crawled out of. Because the love of his life shot him. + some sad stuff kinda idk. Just read.
warnings: takes place post-dock
edit history: aug. 24. 17 - title change

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Underneath Oswald's fingernails lay a thin layer of sand and dirt, scratching his sensitive skin and rubbing it raw. Oswald pulled himself out of the water, his suit jacket and waistcoat long since abandoned. He was left only in his thin button-up that stuck to his wet skin, which was beginning to turn red from the flowering blood that came from Oswald's chest. He was pale from the cold, and shaking from shock. A hand clutched his chest, and the other reached around his neck to his tie. Barely able to muster the strength, he slowly undid his tie and wrapped it around his chest. His fingers fumbled to tie a knot, Oswald's breath slowing and vision blurring. His heart... went slow...and slower...and...

Footsteps crunched along the sand as Oswald's eyes began to slide closed, and everything disappeared into nothing.

He woke before his eyes could open. He took a deep breath, realized that he was breathing, and gasped. Eyes opened, he looked down to his chest, and as soon as he saw it, he could feel the white bandages around him. Staring for a moment, he was suddenly afraid to look anywhere else. Where was he? In a bed, safe, alive. That was all that mattered, wasn't it? And then he heard her voice, and his head shot up quickly to confirm his wonder.

"Penguin," Fish greeted, sitting across from him. She set aside her newspaper; one, he noticed, that read 'MAYOR COBBLEPOT MIS-' before the fold. A shining blue eye paired with a deep brown one watched him from the foot of the bed. He was glad to see her, even more glad that he hadn't killed her when given the opportunity.

"Fi--"

"Don't talk," she advised as she stood. "You were nearly dead when she found you."

"W--n wh-- f-- me?" He tried, half of his words cut off. Fish held up a hand, peeved but not surprised by his attempts to speak.

"Selina Kyle," her voice drawled, making her way around the bed to be at his side. She pushed some strands of hair away from his eyes. "Then she came to me. I figured I owed you one."

All Oswald could do was nod, and gaze thirstily at the glass of water beside his bed. Fish only rolled her eyes and brought the glass to his lips for him to sip. His chest and throat burned, but he swallowed anyway, smiling shyly at Fish in thanks. She set the glass back on the table with a clink. Then, going to her chair, picked up the newspaper and folded it neatly. "Rest. I'll be back tomorrow, and then you can tell me what happened to you."

Oswald hadn't even noticed that his eyes were beginning to sting. He closed them for brief moment, or what seemed like a brief moment, and when he opened them again, Professor Strange was leaning over him. Oswald drew in a breath, body tensing when he noticed who it was, and then there was a prick in his neck and he was relaxing. The next time he woke, Fish was standing at the window. She noticed him stir, and closed the shades. A moment later, she had pulled her seat next to him, and was sat with a quizzical brow.

Oswald found that he could speak, and then he was speaking, and then he was telling her about the day at the docks and how he was shot and fell into the water. When he was done, Fish was expressionless. "Don't play games with me, Penguin. What aren't you telling me?"

He stuttered for a moment, got whacked by Fish's newspaper, and restarted. He fell in love with his best friend. He killed his best friend's girlfriend. His best friend shot him at the docks. He made a mistake, was all. It was his fault for letting his guard down, for letting love be his weakness. Ed had warned him of that the first time Oswald had been to his apartment, and so it was Oswald who was to blame...wasn't it?