24: Oswald (losing his mother)/Jim (bonus for kissing and hugs)
Maroni had promised Falcone that Oswald was off limits, but there was more than one way to skin a cat. And so it was that Oswald had returned home after a busy day at the club some months later. Instantly he froze as he felt the crackle of broken glass under his feet. His guts twisted viciously as that overwhelming feeling that something was wrong made the bile rise in the back of his throat.
Oswald called out weakly at first, "Ma...mother?" His hand shook now as he moved along the familiar walls of the tiny apartment towards the ceiling light switch. The luminescence only made his dread rise as an apparent struggle of knocked over books and a broken coffee table disturbed the once tidy space.
His eyes traversed the room in jittery sweeps before noting a trail of blood leading down the hallway. Oswald gasped his hand clasping over his mouth as he involuntarily stumbled back a step. He didn't have to see it, he knew what he was going to find without having to lay eyes on the atrocity, and he screamed a blood curdling cry as he hobbled quickly down the hall his terror growing to a crescendo once the limp body came into view.
He froze just staring now a wash of numbness overcame him and he moved slowly forward hoping against all hope to see her chest rise and fall, her eyes blink open and call out to him that she was still alive. Long moments passed as he fell to his knees snaking a trembling hand out to her as an unearthly mewling of utter heartbreak escaped his lips as there was no more denying it. His mother was no more.
Oswald lay slumped and unmoving next to her, and as dawn drifted in through the side windows shining a pale light in to the room, Oswald knew he couldn't just stay here reliving this nightmare over and over. He needed a friend, but he didn't have any friends… there was Jim. Jim was his friend he told himself feebly as he fumbled for his cell phone dialing the man's number.
Jim rolled over annoyed at the sound of his phone going off on the dresser an hour earlier than he'd planned to wake up. Snatching it off the dresser he wiped the sleep from his face staring down at the familiar number and groaning ready to give Oswald a piece of his mind for disturbing his slumber. Opening the phone Jim prepared to growl his agitation, but his face went blank replaced quickly by a deep concern as Oswald warbled into the phone, "She… she's dead Jim. They killed her. They killed my… my mother…"
Jim's throat went dry all pretenses of sleep evaporated, "Where are you Oswald?"
A sob followed by a watery, "Home."
Jim swallowed, "I'm on my way Oswald, just hold on okay."
An almost impassive, "Okay," escaped his lips before Oswald clicked the phone shut.
Oswald had not moved since hanging up the phone the tears still streaming down his face as he fought to draw his eyes away from the sight that captured his mind's eye.
Jim had grabbed his gun and raced to the small apartment building on the West side of town pulling his sidearm as he reached the still open door taking note of the scene before him before moving down the hallway. He called out warily, "Oswald?"
Silence echoed through the room leaving behind an eerie unquiet before Oswald's voice could be heard softly wafting from down the hall, "Down here Jim. We're down here."
Jim cautiously made his way down the hall stopping to see the disheveled man crumpled beside his mother's body.
As if sensing human contact Oswald's body shook with barely contained sobs, "This is my fault! I did this to her!" He wailed dipping his head to lay on his mother's stiff form still gripping her cold hand in his and holding it like a life line.
Jim grimaced at the sight feeling the other man's loss almost as if it were his own. He let out a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding as he moved slowly up beside Oswald kneeling down to lay a hand on his shoulder replying gently, "You didn't do this Oswald."
His red rimmed eyes rose to meet Jim's as fresh tears spilled down his cheeks, "I'm being punished for hubris." He looked away his eyes fixing on some point of the wall as he nodded as though affirming the statement he just made to himself, "She never knew… she," he stopped his face contorting in agony as another sob escaped his lips.
Jim knew he needed to get Oswald up and away from this scene as it had already traumatized the man irreparably. Gently he slipped a strong arm under Oswald's armpit and hoisted his limp body off the ground Oswald's hands still grasping her dead limb desperately as he shook his head, "No! NO!" Oswald called out frenziedly as if by letting her hand go it was verification that he had to in fact let her go.
Dragging Oswald forcefully backward out of the room and down the hall, Jim had to fight the other man's momentum frantically trying to return to the scene they had just left. Once in the living room, Jim grabbed Oswald by the shoulders shaking him, "Oswald, stop! She's gone."
Trembling all over Oswald wailed out a soul sickening deflated, "No! No, no, no, no!"
Jim pulled the other man into his chest, "It's going to be okay Oswald; I'm going to help you get through this."
Oswald let loose another wave of wracking sobs, and Jim gripped him in a tight embrace wishing he could ease the pain there but feeling helpless to do more than sharing the simplest gesture he could make to comfort the man in his hour of need.
