Pain was not a stranger to Oswald. His condition has been with him since birth. He's always been small, slight because until he was nine he was not able to walk around too long without his back screaming at him. The brace he always wears helps him quite a lot, but it trades excruciating back pain for a dull ache in his right hip. That pain was constant, like the hum of electricity through wires. Always there. Some days are better than others, but today was on the opposite side of the spectrum and none of the physical activities he's had to do in order to escape Arkham has helped alleviate any of that pain. His nerves were frayed and he was on edge. Even the fact that it was James Gordon helping didn't do anything to ease his mind. His memory was a black hole and he hated not knowing what was going on. So it was no surprise that he snaps the next time Jim's hand touches his shuffling feet because the smaller man cannot crawl as fast as the detective.
"I'm going as fast as I fucking can!" Immediately he regrets saying it, especially since it's to his rescuer. "I'm sorr-"
"Go!" Is all the blonde says, shouts emanating from below them. Oswald yelling out probably helped the orderlies in locating where they were. Awkwardly green eyes shift back behind himself to glance at the detective, expecting an angry expression or worse disappointment, but there was only understanding staring back from blue eyes. "I know you're in pain.. If I could make it stop, I would." The sincerity in his words spurs Oswald on faster. Looking forward again he's confronted with feet and shins, standing. Selina's face appears in the opening of the pipe, her errant curls going everywhere.
"There's enough room for two to stand. We need Gordon to boost us up to the next pipe." She stands back up, making room for someone else to climb out of the pipe Oswald and Jim are still occupying. The smaller man uses this as an excuse to sit back against the pipe and rest, looking at the blonde detective.
"You heard?" Gordon nods as Oswald makes an after you gesture while flattening against the wall of the pipe as much as he possibly can. The detective's brows crease in confusion as his blue eyes study the situation. The smaller man cannot stop the small smirk that plays against his lips as Gordon realizes what he needs to do. Surprising that it took the man this long to figure it out. Resting his back and hip, the black haired man was enjoying this small hiccup.
"Hello?! We don't have all day!" Selina calls down. "Gordon, come on!" Jim grunts in answer as he tries to crawl around the ex-Mayor. This was not going to work, maybe if Oswald was the same size as the cat waiting on them, but he's not.
"Oswald, lay down on your back. I'll fit over you. Sideways isn't going to work." James says brusquely. The request isn't unreasonable and it's a relief if only briefly for him. Flattening out, lying back, arms up so there's more room on both sides of him. Jim places his hands and knees on either side of Oswald and awkwardly crawls over the slight man. He watches as Jim's chest passes by his face. Eyes widen as his thinks about what else of Jim's must pass by this way too. No! Eyes shut! Close your eyes! He does so as the cop's stomach comes into view, the orderly shirt riding up just a small bit, but he ignores the urge to keep his eyes open the whole time.
Instead of seeing it, now all he has to go on is feel, which turns out to be so much worse. Knowing it's Gordon's body, knowing what parts of Gordon's body it was and where it was touching him; well it created a situation that Oswald would never have thought possible in public. Thank whatever deity was out there that the detective was far past rubbing against the smaller man's crotch otherwise the blonde would know just what this little exercise had done to the feathered bird.
Concentrating on just his breathing, Oswald keeps his eyes closed for a little longer. He knew he wouldn't have long to himself and he needed to calm the hell down. Why was this happening now? He'd never thought of Gordon in any manner other than a nice guy, which had changed a bit over the ordeal with… His mother and Galavan… He imagined they had become somewhat partners in crime of sorts. That was until Oswald's stint in Arkham, the first time, and that Jim had refused to believe him about the torture. That had hurt. There had never been a real friendship, the smaller man wasn't stupid on that front. Still he had hoped, maybe one day.
"Oswald," The voice is low, as if volume was a factor now. He also felt a tentative touch on his hand. "Come on, your turn. We have to hurry." Opening his eyes, he looks towards Jim's voice and nods at the man. Spurring his bruised and sore body into moving again. Crawling into the open area of the pipe where he could join the detective in standing up, proved undignified and had Oswald far more embarrassed then the unexpected erection. The space turned out way more cramped then the smaller man thought it would be. Pressed fully against the blonde in Arkham scrubs, no space to back away. His face already beet red, the heat only intensifies as he tries to avoid eye contact. What must Gordon be thinking… The problem from earlier not fully gone and threatening to blossom again.
Without a word, the detective squats down in front of Oswald, bringing the man's face directly in front of his crotch. "Detective?!" But all business as Jim grabs him around his thighs and lifts him up, just as they had done in the room before the pipes. Looking up the smaller, embarrassed man grabs the pipe ledge where Selina's head is sticking out and again, she helps him up. Doing his best to ignore his pain and the inconvenient situation in his pants, Oswald wastes no time in following the street kid. It doesn't take long to find the end of the maze of pipes. It dumps them out into a garage of sorts. The penguin's emergence is less than graceful, and Gordon is there, yet again, to help him to his feet.
"Are you alright?" The concern in his voice and painted across the cop's face begins to chip away at the suspicion in Oswald's heart.
"Thank you… And yes, I'm alright." The smile Gordon flashes for a second only is colored by relief. This was a confusing day and he could not tell what was going on inside the detective's head.
"Get in! Penguin in the back, Gordon, you're driving!" The ex-Mayor doesn't know why the kid is calling the shots, but the detective is following her lead. Lined along the garage wall are a line of Arkham vans, one roars to life as Jim opens the back door. This time when Gordon holds out his hand for the smaller man, he doesn't hesitate in taking it, allowing the blonde to help him into the back of the van. The doors shut behind him and it's dark and quiet. Oswald sits down on the bench and contemplates the events of the day. He still could not remember why he was back in Arkham.
He didn't have fond memories from his first stay, why was this one more pleasant? That tub seemed to be designed for him and his condition, to take the pain away for a blissful sleep. Why had James Gordon felt the need to break him out of Arkham? If he was there again, surely that meant that he needed to be there, right? Too many questions and no answers yet. He sways on the bench with each turn the van takes, but sitting is definitely a reprieve from the constant pain. The vibrations of the van radiating through to his sore muscles. They slow down at one point, but there's no stopping. He wonders where they are taking him. Is there anywhere in Gotham that he's safe? He wonders before remembering that he doesn't know why Gotham is not safe for him… Since the shit that had happened with Nygma, Oswald didn't have anything. Last he checked, his dad's estate had been fore-closed on. No job, no money after all.
That jogs some memory of… leaving Gotham behind. He vaguely remembers his survival of Ed's bullet, waking up in a place… a greenhouse, snow outside… Ivy… A young woman… It's gone. His memory was less than reliable right now. Had that been part of his treatment at Arkham? Did they now have something that removes memories? Like permanently? He wasn't sure, but it was a good place to start with the blame. Not paying attention, the van lurches to a sudden stop and he's tossed onto the floor of the van.
"Fuck…" He grunts, feeling the bruises forming almost immediately on his knees. Using the bench, he regains his feet before the back doors of the van swing open. James holding them. "So where are we?" Oswald asks as he painfully climbs down from the back. Once again, placing his weight fully on his right leg nearly throws him to the ground as it partially buckles beneath him. He couldn't stifle the cry out as the pain threatens to narrow his field of view. That had almost made him pass out. Perhaps he'd been too hasty in calling the soothing tub a blessing.. Maybe it was a delayed reaction from the therapy? Gordon's arms are the only reason the smaller man is still on his feet.
"Outside of Gotham. It's not safe for either of us right now… Nygma has gone crazy." The first bit of information that Oswald had gotten all day. So it was Ed… Keeping an iron grip on the crippled man's waist, Jim helps him into the small cottage they're parked at, woods surround the area on all sides, marred only by the road they'd driven in from. "This was my parent's place…" Jim offers up, but something seems familiar about the place.
"Selina?" Oswald asks, looking around.
"Still in Gotham, we dropped her off before the hitting the bridge. She's going to try and talk some sense into Bruce." He wanted to ask what that meant, but he was relieved to be sitting down on a lush, comfortable brown couch. The decor in the cottage was typical I hunt and display my kills motif. Green eyes alighting to the huge stuffed animal head resting above the fireplace. Then it hits him. Oswald tries to get back to his feet, but his body has finally given up on him. He cannot stand up, try as he might. Blind panic takes over.
"Shit!" He exclaims, Gordon rushing to his side.
"Oswald, what's wrong?!" He asks, confusion marring his features. All the smaller man sees is the rush in which the detective came at him and his panic escalates. He flails, fists smacking across Jim's jaw. He's desperate to get away, convinced James will actually kill him this time.
"I-I can't die like this! Don't James, Jim, please don't! I don't want to die! I- It's true, I have nothing left… But I don't want to die!" Gordon caught the hand that was continuously connecting with his jaw, but Oswald's flailing was desperate and unpredictable.
"Stop! Oswald! I- I'm not going to kill you!" He's screaming into the smaller man's face. Blue eyes seeking understanding, but green eyes are still frantic, the ex-Mayor was not seeing reason. Gordon uses his body weight as leverage. It helped that he was a foot taller and at least seventy-five pounds heavier than the small man. The added weight pushes Oswald further into the cushions of the couch, hugging around his body, limiting his movements more. The detective uses their bodies to pin Oswald's arms between them. The various pains from his back to his hip has sapped the strength from the smaller man's legs, but still, Gordon uses a hand to cover his groin and just waits for Oswald to calm down. Eyes searching for reason in those green depths.
Confused by the situation they are currently in, the man who is so used to abuse rather than calm has the time to breath and finally understanding seeps in. A stalemate because Oswald couldn't move and Jim wasn't letting him, but reason was now on the smaller man's side. Green eyes flicker to the stuffed animal head and then to the table he'd sat at so very long ago.
"I've been here before." He states, breathing heavily from the excretion, his eyes finding Jim's blue ones again. Their faces are pretty close, what with the detective practically lying on top of him. The blonde's confused frown deepens.
"What?" Swallowing hard, Oswald tries to shift his body, Jim's hip digging into his sore one. A twinge of pain colors his face.
"Maroni brought me here to kill me." Immediately James' brows raise in surprise. The blonde looks around the cottage. "So.. I- I figured you had brought me here to- to actually finish the job Falcone gave you so long ago." Try as he might, Oswald cannot keep the sorrow and disappointment from coloring his words.
