Oswald and Edward didn't say 'I love you,' in words. They said it in passing glancing, cups of coffee, lingering touches and stolen kisses; a secret code that only lovers knew.
Ed would help Oswald out of bed, help him dress, tie his tie and hold the mirror while he applies his mascara. He almost feels like Oswald's Chief of Staff, back when the crime Kingpin had also been mayor of Gotham. But when Oswald pulls him down by his own tie and kisses him breathless, he know he is here and now, years after those simple times had turned sour.
But he misses that look in Oswald's eyes. That look of complete adoration. He was the sun in Oswald's universe.
How naive he was then, to toss away such a tireless love for a semblance of normality.
Before Ed leaves he kisses Oswald fiercely, carving their embrace into his mind a muscle memory so that Oswald will meet him in his dreams until they can be together again in the real world.
Oswald grasps his gloved hands too tightly, afraid that if he let's go they will never see each other again. They may not.
The house feels empty this evening, full of ghosts and taunting whispers. Oswald waits and waits but that does him no good.
He cleans the sparse dust off of the bookshelf in his office. Be rearranges his closet by color, he adds frivolous details to his weekly schedule, but his mind does not rest.
Finally, his feet follow a familiar path to the garden. A low thrum of the earth, beyond his consciousness, calls him there. He opens the news paper and skims the headlines, reading through little blurbs about cooking and the best restaurants in Gotham. The front page slips loose falling into a small puddle that has formed between the bricks of the walkway. 'Five Dead after the Riddler's Maniac Scheme,' stares up at him, ink bleeding into the concrete.
Ed must have been underground by now. He hoped. No, he knew. There was no alternate fate.
Oswald closes his eyes and remembers the sunlit mornings where the two of them would sit here, fingers loosely entwined while Ed's eyes would roam the pages of the latest science journal.
The smell of coffee fills the air, he feels the sun's warmth despite the cloudy haze. His fingers twitch, almost feeling the warmth of touch.
Then the rain falls.
And his tears are just raindrops running down his face.
The roar of the rain keeps him away that night, filtering in ominous whispers from the hollows of his mind. What if Ed is captured? What if he is killed? Yesterday may be the last time they were together on this Earth. Those three little words suddenly seemed so important.
Monday rears its head. Oswald rises and wipes the smeared mascara from his face. His mind was too exhausted to allow his body to complete his nightly routine.
He takes faith in the fact that this day will be far too busy for him to stop and think. His schedule is over jameed, words spilling out of the boxes in his planner journal. He has no time for burdensome emotions.
Days go by, some a blur and others a torturous crawl.
Sometimes Oswald looked to the moon at night and thought of Edward. When they were apart this was a small source of solace. So much the two of them had in common; both beautiful yet marred with imperfection. Like the moon Edward had a dark side, ever turning. He could make waves and move the seas. There were days that he was whole, shining with magnificent light and days that he was fragmented, fading away into a tiny sliver.
He wondered if Edward was thinking of him.
Another day begins. Oswald turns the page in his planner journal to see what chaos today has in store. He finds a small note sticking to the page in what was most certainly not his hand writing.
Photosynthesis is a process in which green plants and other organisms use sunlight to synthesize chemical energy into food and fuel.
Like these plants, I wither when devoid of my sunlight; vivacious constant source of energy that drives me. You.
Oswald clutched his chest and tried to find find air to fill his lung. He felt a drop of water fall onto the back of his hand.
He breathed; in and out. The tear was whisked from his eye with the swipe of a finger.
Green eyes gazed down at the blocky print scrawled across the note. He smile, glowing like a little sun.
He read the note over and over throughout the course of the day. When he returned home that night he placed the small slip of paper atop his desk as he removed his jacket.
The rush of his movement caused the little sheet to tumble over. Oswald grabbed it quickly. He couldn't believe he had missed this; a little riddle.
'What comes up when rain comes down?'
Too easy. And umbrella.
Oswald rushed to umbrella stand. Inside of his favorite purple umbrella he found another note.
Albatrosses fly long distances, across the ocean to reunite with their mate. They can be apart for nearly a year and still return to the same nest to meet their partner. This home is my nest. I can promise you that I will always come back.
The tip of Oswald's finger traced the curve of the letters. Ed would come home. He had promised.
This was the life they had chosen; the life they were meant to have. A life of survival. To have power meant walking on the unsteady edge of a danger. Ed was a brilliant, dangerous man, terribly wanted man. And Oswald wouldn't have him any other way.
He sighed and placed the note close to his heart, letting the words sink into his mind and body. Tomorrow would be another day and he world would go on whether he liked it or not.
Oswald turned the second sheet over carefully to read, yet another, riddle.
This is a bed that you mind end up sleeping under rather than on top, Six feet under to be exact.
Oswald scrunched his nose while the the possible answers ran through his mind. He was not particularly bad at riddles, he just found them cumbersome.
The words faded in and out of his thought process, tangling around the facets of his mind. He came back to it during dinner, while writing out a business proposition for the club, while sipping a glass of wine after already slipping into his pajamas. Night had fallen and he still hadn't figured out the riddle.
Soon morning reared its head with the peek of sunlight through the curtains. Oswald rose reluctantly, trudging unceremoniously to the kitchen to make his coffee. For some reason it always tasted better when Ed made it. He brought the mug up to his office so he could look over his schedule for the day.
A nagging voice in the back of his mind told him to read the riddle again, for the fifteenth time. So he did, still as clueless as the first time. Lack of sleep weighed down on him like an anchor.
And suddenly, there it was. A faint scent radiated from the small note. Sweetpea.
Flowerbed. It was a flowerbad.
Oswald rushed to the garden as fast as his bad leg would take him, coffee sloshing in the cup with every moment.
He felt the sun kiss his cheeks as he travelled down the brick path, passing the rose bushes at the entrance to find a colorful display. He couldn't believe he'd been so blind. There in the circle plot in the center of the walkway, was a new pattern of of flowers. Vibrant and vivacious, a collage of red, pink, yellow, white and blue.
"Blue violets symbolism faith and trust. Jasmine is sensuality and red carnation is admiration. White Dittany is stand for perfect love, and Alstromeria for devotion. And of course Forget Me Nots mean true love and lasting memory. All of them seemed less cliche than roses and worthy of your elegance."
The coffee cup slipped from his hands, shattering into pieces amongst the evenly placed bricks.
Oswald turned so quickly he almost tumbled over. He was caught gracefully by two black gloved hands. He stared into Ed's eyes, green irises lit with wonder.
"How-"
Ed smiled at him fondly, carefuly pulling him closer, arms wrapped loosely around Oswald's waist. "I told you previously that installed sensors a a few micro-cameras in the house for security purposes. Well… sometimes I use them to check on you."
Oswald open his mother to speak only to seal his lips again a second later.
Ed stirred nervously. "Does that bother you?"
"No." He finally smiled, mind coming back to reality slowly. They were here, together. He wasn't dreaming. He looked to the ring of flowers again, a smile blooming on his lips. "You didn't have to do that. Though I'm sure you look lovely in gardening clothes."
A little laugh hummed from Ed's lips. "I wanted to." He glanced downward, chewing his lip. Oswald was preparing to receive bad news, trying to steady his heartbeat through the bout of silence.
"The notes, the flowers...it's just, I've never been very good with words," Ed rambled, eyes fleeting about. "But I have come to the conclusion…" He seemed to be searching his mind for something.
"I think I'm in love with you."
Oswald was at a kiss of words. In fact, he wasn't even sure if he could breathe right now. A treble ran through his body. He felt cold.
This had to be a trick.
"You think? Are you sure."
Ed frowned. Oswald could his the pain lingering behind his eyes. "Yes. As sure as I can be."
Oswald drew a breath in slowly and the exhaled. His gaze fell to the ground.
"Oswald? Say something."
The truth is, Oswald was terrified of those three little words. There a wicked little voice in the back of his head that told him that if he said them everything would unravel like bloody innards pouring from a severed gut.
"I never stopped loving you. Through the highest highs and the lowest lows. It consumed me, ripped me apart. I hated it. A love that would never sleep."
His hands trembled. He couldn't look Ed in the eyes, not yet. He held his tears back. Men of power did not cry.
"But now all that paint seems to be worth it. I love you, Edward Nygma. And though I have many regrets I can never regret loving you"
He felt his hands slowly enveloped my long fingers and he found the courage to look into Ed's eyes.
He found a constellation of tears strung in brown lashes, eyes staring into his own with all the love in the world.
Oswald squeezed the hands holding his, letting his tears tumble down his face.
For this moment, time was suspended. There were no titles, morals, concepts of power, no earthly bounds, just the two them.
"Oswald Cobblepot, I love you. My only regret is not know it sooner."
Oswald rose to his toes to press a soft kiss to his beloved's lips.
He pulled his hands softly. "Let's go inside. It's cold and this albatross nest has been empty without you."