Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction. There's no resemblance to actual persons, places and / or events. If so, it is utterly not intended. I do not claim to own Gotham or anything to do with it at all. Character exposure in this story is completely non-profit and just for fun. I own nothing but my own plot-bunnies. Thank you.
Summary: A letter for the eyes of Gertrude Cobblepot. Despite the fact that she will never see it, her estranged but loving son writes it anyway. Rated T.
Genre(s): Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family
Rating: T
Author's Note: Hello there! Anyone reading this, thank you for taking the time to do so! I have only recently discovered the wondrous series that is Gotham and being a fanfiction writer my mind just went wild and the show so far has kept me on the edge of my seat, the twists are great and I can hardly wait for when it comes back on! (This Monday, woot!) I have to warn that this is angsty and I do hope you enjoy! By the way, Penguin is my favorite character, I just adore him in this series, x3
My beloved mother,
As I sit here and write this letter, I ponder my priorities and the eager need for power when others thought I had none. In the end, it cost me greatly and I know that now. My heart will never heal completely, but time diminished before I could reveal what your little boy has done.
I haven't been the great man you thought I would turn out to be mother and for that I'm truly sorry. I won't go another day without telling you these things. These dark things I kept you in the shadows about. But deep down, I think you knew what kind of dark forces I had joined. What I was doing, being able to kill and murder barely batting an eye, the lives I've taken and the screams I've heard are countless. Countless cries, hundreds of pleas for their lives to be spared.
Only now that I write to you, I stop to realize that all the lives I have taken were sons or daughters, mothers or fathers, brothers or sisters to someone. I never thought at any point, who would mourn them after their demise. Who would bury them?
I have stabbed people, shot people, cut off limbs, had 'my people' kill other people. But for the first time in my life, I didn't feel weak or worthless. I no longer felt like death would be a relief. Even in those selfish moments of my life, I didn't consider how you would react as my mother. How disappointed you would feel in the man I was supposed to be.
I will never forget the soft words you spoke every night, telling me to ignore the other children. That they're wrong about me. Every single day at school was hell. I wanted people to pay for what they had done. But it was all about me now wasn't it?
It was the same selfishness in me, that killed you – I know it. I wanted nothing but power, though with power comes great responsibility. I should have hidden you better. I should have given you another home as far away from Gotham as possible, but I didn't. And as I previously noted, my selfishness killed you.
I've learned the hardest lesson I ever could learn about this god-forsaken city and loved ones – they certainly don't mix. Though you will always have my heart, mother, I won't ever let my memories of you fade. You will be close to me and stand beside me in my better moments and be proud of me, but please don't stand beside me during my darker moments as I am very ashamed of them.
I love you more than words can say, and will continue to do so forever and always.
Until we meet again mother,
your troubled, shattered boy
