Chapter 14: You'll Never Have To
Author's Note: Sorry for the extremely long delay. I am still writing and updating this story; time just got away from me. On a silver lining though, I've been promoted to Staff Sergeant! I should be able to update more as I graduate from this leadership school program that I'm in. Love you guys! Xoxoxo
XxX
Sylvia was in a deep sleep but she was pulled out of it when she felt the weight of the bed shift with its new presence. Aware of someone in the bedroom with her, she quickly sat up, ready to defend herself, but Oswald caught her fist before she could wield the strength behind its punch.
"Whoa, whoa, it's just me."
He smiled gently when she peered at him, her wits catching up to her surroundings. Her body relaxed and she lied down, looking up at him from her back. Her hands moved to her face, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. As she lowered them, she smiled embarrassingly, realizing Oswald still watched her every movement as if he couldn't take his eyes off her.
"Like what you see?" Sylvia teased.
"Don't I always," He responded smoothly, caressing her chin with his thumb and forefinger.
She gave him a once-over, noticing that he wore a dark purple velvet pull-over and black slacks. His hair was back to its usual spike-and-gel, and he looked handsome as ever. While she noticed him, he was noticing her. The concern in his eyes had never recant since he'd seen what might have been her most dangerous display yet.
"How are you feeling?" He asked softly.
"Better." With that said, she sat forward and began to move off the bed (likely to evade the questions that came if she didn't), but Oswald placed a hand on her knee and she froze mid-motion, looking up from his hand to his face to see that the concern, while still having never left, was now accommodated by a stern gaze.
"Where's Ivy?" Sylvia asked.
"At the store."
"Why?"
"She wanted to get groceries."
"And she won't tell anyone you're here?"
"She won't." Oswald promised. "She knows how important it is that my being alive remains a secret. She has the adequate mindset to do what I cannot for the moment, and that includes keeping my existence anonymous while procuring the essentials."
"Why do I feel like there's an intense line of questioning coming?" Sylvia returned unhappily as she scooted back so she crossed her legs and pulled away from him.
"I need to know where your mindset is currently."
She scoffed, muttering, "My mind is fine."
"Are you certain of that?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Never in a million years would I think you'd accept anything from Hugo Strange, particularly after what he put me through," Oswald stated logically, gesturing to himself as a reference.
"Never in a million years would I think you'd judge me for what I had to do in order to keep people like Barbara Kean from fucking up everything you built," Sylvia countered defensively.
"I want to know why you did it."
"I told you why. I did what needed to be done and I did it by any means necessary. Without this virus, I'd have stayed home, crying my eyes out, letting people walk all over me, letting Barbara take everything without a fight, letting people like Lucas hurt people I love. I couldn't stand by and let that happen."
Sylvia scooted out of bed.
He noticed that all she really wore to bed was a black long-sleeve shirt that Ivy might've given her, and her lingerie. Her bare legs and waist were exposed. The shirt covered more of her upper half, although it dipped low beneath the neck and exposed her shoulders.
"Before the virus, I felt weak, lost—I couldn't think straight. All I felt was sadness and…emptiness," Sylvia continued indignantly. "I didn't care what happened to anyone or anything, including myself. I was on the brink of self-destruction; I even went to the GCPD, trying to get myself killed."
Oswald stared at her, horrified: "Why would you—"
"When we married, I married for love," Sylvia interrupted him ardently, "I was prepared to prove my love and be with you for the rest of my life—no matter what it takes. I will die for you if that's what it takes. I will kill anyone who tries to take you away from me—" (Her eyes grew red and the familiar blackness beneath her veins began to swell) "and I will do both of those things without hesitation, trust me. I can handle all of that."
"I appreciate the sentiment," Oswald said softly. "You know I'd reciprocate the same if something happened to you, but taking Alice Tetch's blood is not a price I would have wanted you to pay in order to avenge my death."
"The price I shouldn't have to pay was living on this Earth without you!"
Oswald stared at her, and he kept his distance. Her eyes were redder, and she practically snarled her response at him in the same manner in which she had behaved towards Gabe. Her aggression seemed all too familiar.
"You were gone, and I didn't know what else to do! What else could I have done! What would you have done!"
"You sound like you're blaming me for getting myself killed."
Sylvia frowned deeply, crossing her arms over her chest.
Oswald realized that's exactly what she was doing. Those few months in which she'd been grieving and alone, she focused her hatred for his disappearance on those that made easy targets: Barbara, Tabitha, Lucas, and Ed. But her true sorrow came from the feeling of being abandoned by him when she truly needed him most. Maybe her anger was displaced to him because he was the closest living person to do so, but ultimately, her anger was really reserved for herself.
He knew this because he felt it himself when his mother died. The first person he blamed was himself for what happened to Gertrud. After his grief subsided, his true anger was towards the person responsible for her actual demise, and that was Tabitha.
Even though Oswald stood before her, Sylvia's grief was still fresh. Was the virus keeping that anger alive because her internalized self-loathing hid in the darkest recesses of her mind, along with her thirst for blood and violence? What else hid in the black cavern of her soul?
Oswald steadily moved towards her. Sylvia glanced at him icily.
"Taking this virus was a small price to give Tabitha and Barbara and Lucas and all the other fuckers what they deserved," She muttered. "And it's the least I could have done for you after everything you did for me."
"I would have never asked you to do this. Ever." Oswald said gently, touching her arm.
He moved her closer to him. After what seemed like a moment of guarded hesitation, her arms lowered, and she allowed him to embrace her. Sylvia rested her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around his middle.
She whispered into his shirt, "And you'll never have to."
