"You know," Bruce insisted. "You have to know."

"I might, at that," Oz said agreeably. "I'm a smart bloke, know loads of things."

"No but I mean you know," Bruce said again.

"Is changing the inflection supposed to do something to make me get it?" Oz asked. "Some sort of mental light switch?"

There were a lot of reasons why visiting Oswald Cobblepot in prison was a bad idea and Alfred had kindly reminded him of each and every one of them before he had left.

Oz had stolen his company, Oz had been complicit in having him drugged and publicly blamed him for what that drug had made him do, Oz seemed completely incapable of separating out what his father had done from his own actions. Oz didn't seem to want anything to do with him and had made him beg to hear the reason for his parents' deaths. Oz had been behind the mess at the debate and what had happened with Harvey and that alone should have kept him far from here.

But they'd been friends once and Bruce always was rather shit at letting go. But Oz had been in control of his company for several days and he had finally reclaimed it in a fight that took place in the place he kept all the Batstuff that didn't belong in the Batcave. He had to know. There was literally no way he could not at this point. HH

"There's no way you could not know."

Oz gave him an annoyed look. "Once again, mate, not exactly arguing with you here."

"You know," Bruce repeated. "But you've never said anything."

"There's loads of things I know that I've never said anything about, or at least not to you. For instance, did you know that during World War 2 other candy manufacturers donated their sugar ration so troops could be reminded of home? Not sure what's so very American about Life Savers, mind you, but there you have it."

"What?" Bruce asked, startled. "No, I didn't."

"See, there I go again. Keeping secrets. Well how about the fact that Pluto couldn't even complete one solar orbit between being discovered and being kicked out of the planet club? Or what about the fact that Donald Duck was in the navy and the US government promoted him to sergeant and gave him an honorable discharge in 1984 due to his participation in World War 2?"

Bruce snapped his fingers. "That one I actually did know. But are you going to keep endlessly spouting random facts at me?"

Oz shrugged. "I might at that. Unless you feel like sharing what particular thing you think I have to know. Is it something obvious? Like you think I somehow don't know that the Earth revolves around the sun or something? Because let me tell you, Bruce, I'm not bloody Holmes."

Bruce shook his head. "No that's not…" He trailed off. "What, am I just supposed to say it?"

"It would be helpful, yeah," Oz said. "Assuming you want me to have any idea what you're talking about."

"You can't not know what I'm talking about, though," Bruce said. "About what you have to know."

Oz gave him a slightly horrified look. "Oh no, we are not getting into a circular conversation here. I refuse. I may be incarcerated but I still have rights!"

"Don't you think you're being a little melodramatic?" Bruce asked, trying very hard not to imagine the look on Alfred's face if he had heard Bruce ask anyone that with a straight face.

"What about me, in all the years you've known me but particularly since I've been back, suggests to you that melodrama is not a beloved part of my personality?"

"I just can't really say it."

"Then let's don't talk about it," Oz said. "I really don't care. The whole being driven mad at the thought of tantalizing knowledge just out of your reach is more your thing than mine, Bruce. You'd never catch me begging, that's for sure."

Almost unconsciously, Bruce's hands tightened into fists. He had ultimately come out on top and he was trying, he was always trying, but the memory of the press conference – everything little excruciating detail – still stung.

"Ah yes," Oz said, smirking now. "I do remember that day. I may be in here now but I meant what I said. I was fully prepared to accept this outcome right from the start. Be a fool not to, wouldn't I? No idea what that Dent bloke thought he was doing or where he'd end up-"

"Don't."

Oz tilted his head. "What's that, now?"

For a moment this Oz was gone, the whole visiting room was gone, and he was on that stage faced with an impossible choice. Selina who had only come to help him and three armed men looking to kill or Harvey screaming before the Penguin could even touch him, the stranger in the mask ready and willing to beat him to death on live TV. And before that the drug. And after that the stress and the mistrust and the cryptic comment about underlying issues.

He pushed it away.

"Don't talk about him. That was your fault anyway."

"Fine," Oz agreed, easily enough. "He never really mattered in any of this anyway. This was all about Falcone and Hill and you."

He didn't need to hear it. He knew it and so he didn't need to hear it.

He had done nothing but his father had and his father was long dead so that made him the focus of their ire. He could sympathize with how they felt and maybe even forgive what they did to him but the rest of it? The rest of it was unconscionable and the truth was that, no matter how regrettable they claimed to find the collateral damage, they didn't give a damn or they'd have found another way.

And Falcone had died for what he had done. And Hill had died for what he had done. And Harvey…Harvey had no choice but to be honest that night on the stage. Harvey had proven he really was the best of all of them when, drug-ridden though he was, he spoke only of the potential he saw in Gotham. And Oz had known that. And Oz hadn't cared. Harvey was inexorably tied to Bruce by that point and so damned by association. Bruce hadn't been there to abuse so Harvey, in place of Bruce in place of Thomas, had had to suffer the consequences.

He was still suffering the consequences. Perhaps would always be suffering the consequences.

He did miss Selina when she had left but he had insisted she not speak of Harvey to him either after it came out she had toyed with Harvey's heart merely to steal from Bruce. He didn't take the theft or the long con personally and it wasn't her fault what had happened but it didn't seem to matter to her like it mattered to him. And why would it? She hadn't cared that deeply in the first place and Harvey had tried – vaguely – to kill her. But none of that meant he wanted to listen to "he was so desperate to fall in love" or "look what happened to your friend Harvey" coming from her.

And everything she had ever done to him wasn't half of what Oz had done on most of their encounters.

"Why did you even come here, anyway?" Oz asked him curiously. "Did you just want to gloat? I know I would if I were you. But it's like I told you back then, no matter what happens going forward, you can never take that single, glorious day away from me. I didn't know what you were going to do. Would you play along and be the whipped dog trying to please his master as he's shoved out the door? Would you make a scene and let the whole world know you were rejected and let me throw you out of your own company that much more publicly? I wasn't sure but I must say that I loved your…compliance. I won that day and you lost everything. I could power a Patronus every day for the rest of my life."

"I'm not the type to gloat over the downfall of another," Bruce said. "Especially someone who used to be a friend."

Oz rolled his eyes disgustedly. "Of course not. Still trying to pretend to be noble, aren't you? Or maybe when you always win you don't need to take joy in the little things. You've never suffered a day in your life."

Bruce gave him an unimpressed look, unable to believe that Oz of all people could actually say that to him.

"Well, aside from a few bad days I gave you recently," Oz amended. "For which I do not apologize for. You deserved them and before I came back to give you your just deserts you had never suffered at all and I've suffered every day for years."

"I've never suffered until you came back? Me? Never?" Bruce felt like he was in some sort of alternate reality where Oz's words might start to make sense.

"That is what I just said, yeah."

"You know that's not true."

"There you go telling me what I do and do not know again," Oz complained. "I know nothing of the sort. Name one time you've suffered. Really suffered, not just missed out on convincing hot twins to have a threesome suffering."

"Well there was that time my parents were brutally gunned down right in front of me," Bruce said tartly.

"There you go again, blathering on about your parents," Oz said, looking far more long-suffering than he had any right to be.

Bruce knew he really should have some sort of outraged or hurt reaction to this. And he might've, really, except virtually everything Oz said fell into that category and there was only so much energy he could expend being horrified at the things coming out of Oz's mouth. And his callousness there was easier to swallow than it would have been coming from the random strangers on the street who had never even met his parents, let alone had their family destroyed by them.

"When have I literally every mentioned the death of my parents to you?" Bruce asked. "Except for maybe, and I'm not even sure this even happened, pointing out that them being dead makes your vendetta against them a little…complicated."

Oz considered. "That may be true but it doesn't feel true. I feel like all you ever do is whine about your dead parents."

"Oz, you have literally not been able to avoid mentioning your parents every time I've talked to you."

"Well what do you expect?" Oz asked, a touch hypocritically. "Your parents destroyed them! They drove my poor dad to suicide and destroyed my mother's mind way more completely than I destroyed your friends'! Oh, right, I'm not supposed to talk about that."

Bruce gave him a warning look but there was little point getting in to that again. He meant what he said. He didn't want to talk about it right now with this man. Instead, he said, "My dad, really."

"What?"

"You keep insisting my parents did this. Well you're the one who claims my mother didn't even know until right before she died and she immediately tried to stop it."

Oz gave him an incredulous look. "Bruce, do you really think that makes a difference?"

"Yes. I think it makes a huge difference."

"To you, maybe," Oz said as though Bruce were extraordinarily dim-witted. "But we were both eight when all this went down. I'm still here at this very moment willing you to suffer a fatal heart attack or something because you're the only one still here I can blame for this. Do you really think I'm going to let poor dead mum off the hook?"

"I mean, if you had any interest in being reasonable you would."

"Yeah but reasonable by whose standards, mate?" Oz asked. "There is no objective reason. And vengeance doesn't have to play nice like that either. But we wandered away from the point a bit. If you're not here to gloat then what does bring you to this lovely facility? What do you want from me?"

Well, mostly he wanted to get Oz to admit he knew about the whole Batman thing and see what he was going to do about it. That's why he made sure they weren't being monitored and wasn't it lucky Gotham was just corrupt enough to make that easy for him to do?

But that wasn't the only reason.

"I just wanted to talk."

Oz laughed. "Just wanted to talk. I see how it is. You're a coward, you know?"

"What is it with everyone calling me a coward lately?" Bruce asked, annoyed.

"Maybe think about it," Oz advised. "Could be a reason. Don't know what it is but there could be one."

"The last person who called me a coward did so because he tried to have me murdered and I didn't have the decency to die," Bruce said. "Although that's really not any definition of coward that I've ever heard of."

Oz frowned. "Is this about-"

Even though technically Bruce had brought it up he still wasn't going there with Oz. "Why do you think I'm a coward?"

"Because you are one."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "What was that you were saying about wanting to avoid circular conversations?"

"It only gets circular if you don't accept it," Oz said. "Which…I can see you will not. Fine. So I see you at your fancy party and you don't say hi. That's fine. I probably would have just made an ass of myself with how much I was drinking anyway. Then you come see me at the park so you could tell yourself you're a good person for mixing it up with the little people even though the whole time I could see you condescending to me and itching to race back to your fancy mansion. Then I see you the day before the press conference when you kept making ominous remarks about knowing who I really am. Then the day of the press conference I'm perfectly nice, even tell you something nice you might want to know about your mum and all you had to say was please, then you viciously attacked me. Then you stay away while I'm in control of your company until I'm safely behind bars. Now you're here to mock me."

There was really only one thing Bruce could say to that. "Do you ever think I do things for reasons other than to be a shitty person?"

Oz looked blank for a moment before shrugging. "I mean, I'm open to the possibility."

"I really don't think you are," Bruce said. "And can you please remember you were in control of my company for like four days and Batman took you down literally the day I got out of Arkham. Forgive me if I took a shower and got a night's sleep before I went to go talk to you after what happened at the press conference."

"I would, Bruce, I really would but I'm finding myself quite incapable of forgiving you for anything," Oz said.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," Bruce replied.

"And don't think I didn't notice the odd coincidence of Batman letting me do as I please until the very day you happen to get out of Arkham," Oz continued.

Bruce leaned forward. "Oh?"

Was he finally going to admit it?

"It would figure that if anyone could have that brute on his payroll it would be you," Oz said accusingly.

Bruce felt himself slump. "Are you-are you even being serious right now?"

"Look how he denies it."

"And what do you mean 'that brute'? I thought you liked Batman," Bruce said.

"That's before I found out you paid him to brutalize me, steal my company, and break my leg," Oz replied.

"I don't pay Batman to do anything."

Oz rolled his eyes. "Like I'm just going to take your word for it. But I'll have you know that him just being some sort of groupie of yours doesn't exactly help matters. Besides, what did I ever do to deserve to be randomly attacked like that?"

"I mean, you do have a ridiculous criminal record I don't know how nobody heard about," Bruce said. "Though that's in the past. Then there was the debate and your part in drugging me and all the corporate crap you pulled while in control."

"Well, yeah, but how much of that could he have possibly known about? And if he was mad about the debate he didn't come after me for like two weeks and that is just not very prompt, not at all," Oz said.

"Oz, you were in control of my company for several days. I know you were almost finished hacking into my stuff when you were taken down. I know the fight ended up spilling into the secret lab."

Oz nodded at him. "See this kind of thing is why I think Batman is on your payroll."

"At this point, I could be standing here in the damn suit and you'd just say 'Nice cosplay.'"

"Actually, I'd say 'Shitty cosplay'," Oz corrected. "Because I'm sure it would be terrible."

"With my resources and dedication, any cosplay I choose to do would be amazing," Bruce insisted. "But that's really not the point."

"No, by all means let's talk about how you want to dress up as Batman."

Bruce crossed his arms. "I'm not going to say it."

"I don't care. Don't admit what you pretty much just admitted to about wanting to cosplay Batman. I won't judge you for it. Can't say I've never thought about it myself but somehow I just don't think I could pull it off."

"I might have to actually say it," Bruce realized.

"And look at you being all changeable!" Oz said, mock-clapping.

"You know who I am."

Oz gave him a confused look. "I, uh, wasn't aware that there was any doubt about that. Unlike everyone else, I don't have the luxury of a mental illness to fall back on after getting arrested."

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "It is hardly a luxury-"

Oz waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture. Being an asshole ain't the worst of my sins."

The two of them sat in silence for a moment.

"You still haven't told me why you're here, Bruce," Oz said, almost gently. "And don't tell me it's to let me know that you know that I know something you won't tell me or to discuss your little dressing up fantasy."

"We were friends, once."

"That we were," Oz agreed. "Why are you here?"

"I've been trying to reconcile who we were then with what's been going on lately," Bruce said. "I have to admit, even before I knew about any of this I've been having a hard time."

Oz shrugged indifferently. "What's to reconcile? It's been twenty years. And yes, sure, we used to be friends before your family destroyed mine but it's not the same 'used to be friends' that you can cling to when it comes to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You were friends until last month. It's different."

"We're still friends," Bruce said automatically. Everyone kept throwing that 'used to be' crap at him and he had never agreed to any of that and as the wounded party shouldn't he get some sort of say in that?

"Really?" Oz asked, unimpressed. "He know that? Friendship kind of has to be a two-way street, Bruce. Not that I'm surprised a Wayne doesn't understand that."

"It's not just when we were kids," Bruce said, ignoring with difficulty what Oz had just thrown at him. That was a battle for another day with another man. "There was that day in the park."

"Oh, what of it?" Oz said, suddenly annoyed. "I wanted to drag you out of your ivory tower and get the measure of the man you were. It'd been a long time and I couldn't tell much at the party between all the schmoozing and Falcone gatecrashing. I wanted to see just where I'd be dragging you down from."

But Bruce shook his head. "That wasn't it at all. You were kind then, Oz. Hurt and angry but you clearly gave a damn. You told me you were glad that I hadn't changed, that I still cared about something other than myself."

"You haven't changed," Oz agreed. "Only my understanding has. And Vicki and I both agreed that if you cared about anything it would be Alfred. I am glad he survived, by the way. He never liked me much but he always was a good sort."

"You warned me of the coming revolution. You didn't give me details but it was more than you had to do."

Oz snorted. "Not that it did you much good in the end, now did it?"

"Something changed," Bruce insisted. "Something changed between when I saw you then and when you came to take my company. Maybe even something changed between that first night and the debate. What was it?"

"Ah, the revolution had started, Bruce. The Children of Arkham were on the rise."

Again, Bruce shook his head. "That's not it." Something occurred to him and he stilled. "Oz, when exactly did you first see that tape of your mother?"

Oz didn't react for a moment then he smiled humorlessly. "Clever. So, as you can see, nothing changed. I just hadn't realized the truth yet. Dear Vicki hadn't told me that you were on the list. I knew what your dad had done, in broad strokes, I just hadn't realized…But then I did. I grew up and I realized that I didn't owe you a damn thing and that you didn't deserve to be protected. It's really not such a mystery is it?"

"I don't know what you want me to say," Bruce said finally.

No point in arguing, really. No one had ever had any specific accusations for Bruce Wayne aside from Harvey thinking he slept with Selina and Vicki going from recognizing Batman as someone who strove to do good to deciding actually apparently Bruce Wayne was dressing up to victimize defenseless innocents. There was no logical way to blame a small child for the actions he didn't know his parents committed so there was no logical way to convince Oz of that.

"You could always just say what you came here to say," Oz said.

"I'm trying," Bruce said, somewhat reproachfully. "You don't make it easy."

"Who said I had to, huh?"

"You haven't asked me to go, you know."

Oz rolled his eyes. "Would it do any good if I did?"

"That continues to not be a request for me to leave. What, do you want me here?" Bruce asked.

"This place does get dull after the first, oh, three minutes," Oz said flippantly.

"To avoid repetitiveness, please note my continued awareness of your lack of asking me to leave," Bruce said.

Oz nodded. "I do appreciate your thoughtfulness here."

"I don't like how we ended things between us," Bruce said. Either at the press conference or when he had tied Oz up and hoped the GCPD could read between the lines and remove him.

"Me either," Oz said, rubbing a hand vaguely over his stitches.

Bruce coughed. "I, uh, don't know whether I should apologize for that or remind you that that wasn't my fault."

Oz stared at him. "You apologize, Bruce. Of course you apologize. What is wrong with you?"

"Would an apology do any good?"

"It might do better than not apologizing," Oz said. "And if you really meant it it shouldn't matter how I'd react."

"I am sorry then," Bruce said. "I was trying so hard that day and the day before to keep my composure. I figured you may have the upper hand but the least I could do was not let the bastards see me sweat."

Oz nodded approvingly. "A fine philosophy and one that I can quite get behind."

"It wasn't my fault that I punched you. You know it wasn't. Vicki drugged me and pointed me your way."

"I have to wonder if she even needed to bother with the prompt. You made your feelings very clear soon enough," Oz said.

"But that's just it, Oz," Bruce said. "I was angry. You can't blame me for being angry. In fact, I'm pretty sure everything you did the entire time I saw you after I found out you were going to be CEO was specifically designed to make me as angry as possible at you."

"So…what? You're blaming the victim?" Oz sounded almost disappointed in him.

"You're not the victim!"

Oz looked distinctly unimpressed.

"Well, I mean, you were a little bit but you also were complicit in drugging me to attack you after provoking me quite a bit. I almost punched you like twice."

"Am I supposed to be thankful you kept a lid on your brutality before savagely beating me?" Oz asked guilelessly.

"No but you can't pretend to be some naïve innocent," Bruce said. "You knew I was going to lose all control, you planned on it, you did everything you could to make me want to hurt you now you're mad that I really wanted to hurt you."

"You might have killed me!"

"There was security," Bruce said dismissively. "And anyway, that was the risk you took when you provoked me then drugged me. What would you have done had you been the drugged one?"

At that Oz did look away. "I had more cause."

"Before then, I never did a damn thing to you and you know it. You can blame me for what my father did all you want but you know I was the same age you were."

"It wasn't you personally, no," Oz conceded. "But what do those distinctions matter in the end? If you had been old enough you would have been involved. If you had been standing in that room you would have delivered the injection. You are your father's son, Bruce, and some sins can never ever be forgiven. And as bad as taking your company was, what's worse? That or the lives of your parents?"

Bruce didn't answer. He didn't need to.

"Why are you here, Bruce?" Oz asked again. "It doesn't make any sense. I'm never going to forgive what happened and you can't possibly want to just argue this round in circles forever. It's not…it's not sentiment, is it? We used to be friends and you didn't know what monsters your parents were and you feel bad"

"It might be something like that," Bruce admitted. "What you did was horrible and no one deserved this. You deserve to be in prison right now but that doesn't mean this is the end for you."

Oz looked almost physically pained. "I hate you so much right now. I want to stab you in the face."

Bruce shrugged. "Maybe but did you really not feel that way before I said that?"

"We're not going to be friends again."

"Sure, Oz."

"Don't 'sure, Oz' me, Bruce."

"Sure, Oz."

Oz's eye twitched. "I think I have some say in if we're going to be friends again."

"Su-" Bruce started to say. The look on Oz's face drew him up short. He smiled. "I know it's up to you."

"It is. Two-way street, remember? Never ever going to happen."

"To be fair, it's not like I want to be friends right now anyway," Bruce said. "You kill far too many people without the extenuating circumstances Harvey has and you don't give a damn. But we were friends once and there's a lot of future ahead of us both. Maybe this doesn't have to be just one more notch in your criminal belt."

Oz crossed his arms. "I regret nothing."

Bruce pointedly looked around the room. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," Oz said stubbornly. "Prison really isn't any big thing and it's better than winding up dead, after all. I knew what I was in for when I came back."

"What about the debate moderator? I didn't even know the guy."

"Eh, I did my research. He was a Libertarian," Oz said dismissively.

"That's no reason to shoot the guy!"

"I clearly disagreed. Besides, Vicki wanted a chance to play a part," Oz explained.

"I suppose that while you're here the amount of trouble you can get into is much more limited," Bruce said thoughtfully.

"Thank you, Bruce, I do appreciate that you don't insult me by saying there's no trouble I could get into in here," Oz said.

"I hope you don't but you have to live your own life."

"That I do. Hey, are you going to still pay my legal fees if I refuse to be friends again? Because it's not going to make me change my mind but it'd be nice to know if I need to start looking for a bloody public defender or something."

"Don't be an asshole, of course I'm going to."

"You do owe me a great deal more than that," Oz said consideringly. "So I'll allow it and not even consider it pity. You're welcome."

It was a strange way of looking at the situation that Oz would present it as him doing Bruce the favor and not the other way around but Bruce knew better than to argue with it.

They sat in almost comfortable silence before Bruce couldn't take it any longer.

"But seriously, you have nothing to say about me and Batman?"

Looking honestly mystified, Oz said, "What about you and Batman? We already talked about the fact you're probably paying him off. Are you…are you dating him or something? That is so you, always has to go after the most exclusive thing in the room. Well I'm not going to congratulate you. That bastard broke my leg and you're…well…you."

'Dating', Bruce mouthed. He shook his head. "I just…dating?"

"Oh, don't tell me you got married," Oz said, groaning. "You can't marry a vigilante's alter ego, Bruce, and if you try then someone will find the marriage license and everyone will know who he is. Not that I particularly care but that's just sloppy."

"You're doing this on purpose," Bruce decided. "You have to be."

Oz let out a world-weary sigh. "Oh, not this again. Guards! Guards!" He gingerly stood up and limped to the window where he started to bang on the glass.

"So…good talk," Bruce said. "I'll see you Tuesday?"

"I'll see you in hell," Oz replied, still banging on the glass.

"Blackgate really isn't that bad," Bruce said.

"The next time you get all cryptic and insist I must know things you're not going to tell me I'm going to start spouting off facts about animal genitalia and exactly what certain poisons do to the human body," Oz threatened.

Bruce smiled at him. "Ah, excellent! I'll make sure to brush up before then so we can have a rousing discussion about it."

Oz made a sound of wordless frustration and the door finally opened. He practically pushed the guard aside in his haste to get out and Bruce just watched him go, still smiling slightly.

It wasn't friendship. Oz still hated him or at least mostly and he didn't know if that would ever stop. But he wasn't trying to kick Bruce out of his life and that was something, too. Oz had done a lot, to Bruce personally and to others, and he had so much to make up for and very little interest in doing any of it. Honestly he had no idea what he even wanted from talking with Oz but it was a great deal less depressing than Arkham which was where he had already spent most of the morning.

Whatever it was, whatever he was looking for…he felt strangely at peace as he made his way out of the facility. Maybe he didn't need to know what it was to still find it.

Maybe he was still terrible, after all this time, at letting go.

And maybe this was the least Oz deserved after everything he had put him through. It was nice and beautifully petty and he would think the man who dreamed up Falcone Island would appreciate it.

Oh well.

They had time.