Chapter 31

"Isn't this nice?" Oswald asks, as he splashes water against my back.

I sink my naked body deeper into the water. Luckily Gotham's tap water is so dirty the water is an opaque white, obscuring our bodies from view.

"You know, for a moment I thought we had something special," he begins, rubbing my back with his large hands, "you were the nicest person I'd ever met. To be fair, you still are," massaging my shoulders, he pulls me toward him.

I glance to my side and see his pocket knife, lying on the stand by the bathtub, just out of his arm's reach. He takes my chin in his hand, and pulls it to face him, "But perhaps, you're also the cruelest person I've ever met. You gained my trust, and then you betrayed me."

"I never had your trust to begin with," I accuse.

He pulls me closer toward him and my stomach brushes up against something...

"That better be your arm," I threaten.

He pulls both of his arms out of the water and gives a knowing smirk. I grimace, this is highly unsanitary, with or without the dirty Gotham waters.

"Do me now," he murmurs, turning around.

I grab the soap bar and start rubbing it on his back.

"No...use your hands," he commands tilting his head around and placing my hand on his.

I put away the soap, and with my hands, I begin massaging his lower back. He arches his back and opens his mouth, closing his eyes. Is he...getting off to this?

He suddenly grabs my arms and pushes me down with his entire back, plunging me into the water. My legs and stomach are crushed by his weight and his head digs into my neck. He's trying to drown me...how quaint. Luckily I can hold my breath for at least two minutes, but when he wrenched me underwater it knocked a lot of air out of me. I lie as still as possible, trying to save my breath while looking for a way out. There's a muffled sound coming from the surface. Oswald's saying something, although I have no idea what. Perhaps he's quoting Shakespeare, or maybe Virgil, or both, who knows?

I slowly begin to wiggle my arms free from his oppressive force. My elbow is just out of his grasp when he reacts, scrambling to push me back down. I use his panic to slip to the side of the tub, and with both arms, pull him down into the water as I resubmerge. Gasping for breath and pulling wet hair out of my face, I hold him down in the water with my elbow and upper body weight. I could kill him right now, it would be so easy. But...something's telling me not to, maybe it's just my conscience, or maybe…

At the last second, I yank him out of the water. He gargles water before spitting it out, wheezing down toward the tub.

"That's what you get for trying to kill me," I warn him, crossing my arms as I grab a nearby towel and step out of the tub.

I turn around as I quickly wrap the towel around me. Oswald stares at me, dumbfounded, "You're not...going to kill me."

"Why, do you want me to?" I ask threateningly.

He shakes his head rapidly, flicking droplets of water off of his soaked hair.

"Get dressed and get out of here," I instruct coldly, gesturing toward the door.

"But...I have no where else to go," he pleads, grabbing the one leftover towel and stepping out of the tub.

I turn to him, sneering, "Tough luck."

Oswald's dressed in those awful clothes by the time I return to the bathroom.

"Why not just go back home to your mother?"

He chuckles, "She and I had a bit of a...falling out."

"Couldn't be that bad, she loves you," I counter, leaning against the wall.

He shakes his head, "You don't understand, it was bad."

I twist my lips, looking off to the side, "Are you really fearful of your mother, or are you just looking for an excuse to stay here?"

"I can be very valuable to you," Oswald detracts, approaching me, "in more ways than one...if you prefer."

He sees my back arching up against the wall and stops, smiling, "You can physically overpower me, and yet you still fear me. I love it."

Oswald inches closer, his left foot dragging across the floor. I look down and see a set of nasty scars where Fish had attacked him. He's mere centimeters away, breathing directly onto me, his breath smelling of tuna. Nothing new there.

He takes my chin and brings it to face him, "I need you...and you need me, you'll come to see this in time," he leans in and kisses me on the cheek, "you crave it too, don't you?"

I arch an eyebrow in surprise, "Crave what?"

"Don't play dumb with me," he takes his arms and wraps them around me, pressing his cheek against mine, "you crave the attention I provide, how I put you up on a pedestal and call you 'friend'."

Oswald tilts his head so he can whisper into my ear, "And tell me, when's the last time anyone's ever held you like this?"

"Never," I mutter under my breath. Why am I telling him the truth? I glance over my shoulder and see that his pocketknife is still on the end table by the tub. He wants my trust, or more so, he wants a place to crash.

"I know you want these things because I want them too. I know what it feels like, to long for someone's touch, to be accepted as...someone, someone of importance in another's life," with one hand, he slides it down from my waist up to my shoulder, and down my arm, "for years all I could do was wish and wait for someone, somewhere, where a warm hand waits for mine."

He takes my hand and kisses it, "I think I've found that hand."

I try my best to control my breathing, but I'm honestly touched by his speech. I take his other hand, and my heart races as he blushes. We lean in and kiss on the lips, becoming entangled in each other's arms. I release myself and run my hand through his hair, "Your hair isn't usually this...flat."

Oswald beams in embarrassment, "Mom usually does it for me."

"You could try doing it yourself you know."

He walks over to the sink mirror, and holds up a jar of hair gel, "Can I borrow this?"

I nod, and he opens the jar and takes out a generous scoop with his index and middle fingers, "So, there's been a slight change in plans," he announces as he fusses with his hair in the mirror.

"What do you mean?"

He smirks, "I've made a deal with Don Falcone himself. I'm to invade the ranks of his rival Don Maroni and serve as his mole."

"Really? Well, someone's moving up in the world," I grin.

"Certainly. And once I can get close to the both of them...I'll rot them both out from the inside," he chuckles gleefully as he finishes with his hair, "what do you think?"

I look up at his new hairdo. He's gone a little overboard with the hair gel, his bangs now individually parted in clumps across his forehead. Several parts also stick up in an avian-like fashion.

"It's…very...you," I conclude, giving a soft smile.

"You don't like it," he slumps his shoulders in disappointment.

"No, no, I'm just...getting use to it," I explain, walking over to him, "it's new, and unique...like you."

He blushes as I wrap my arms around his shoulders, "So, you'll keep me in the know about what's going on with Fish and Falcone, and I'll keep on the lookout for more candidates for you to mark."

I try my best to not frown, the last thing I need is to get involved with this man again. He can be charming, funny, and kind but...he's also a psychotic bastard. But, he's also shown that he has some incredible insecurities, maybe, maybe if I could tap into the root of his problems, I could lead him to resolve them. And then he could move on from this life and become a normal, functioning member of society. And then...maybe, just maybe, we could actually have something together.

"Alright," I agree, kissing him on the cheek.

A dark room is illuminated by a single hanging light in the center. Schott stands under that light, the expression on his doll mask just as smiley and stoic as ever.

"You've failed me, Winslow," a voice booms from the darkness.

"I-I'm so sorry Mr. Dollmaker sir. I had the children on the ship, but three big bad meanies came in and spoiled all of our fun!" Schott pleads, "Plus the stupid police came and arrested Patty and Doug, we'll have to start all over again-"

"Silence!" the man slams his fist onto the table and Schott shies back. The Dollmaker relaxes his fist, as well as his voice, "Schott, why aren't you bringing me more subjects? You do want friends, don't you?"

"Yes, yes, Mr. Dollmaker, in fact, I brought a new friend for both of us to play with," he claps his hands and a metal table on wheels rolls into the light, revealing a sobbing and struggling Aaron strapped to it.

"You told me you had two friends Winslow. Is this the thanks I get, for taking you in after your father died?"

"I had two friends, but the other one was too damaged. I had to dispose of him," Schott explains in a morbidly happy tone.

"Such a waste...oh well, guess we'll have to make do with just the one," the Dollmaker sighs, stepping out of the shadows as Aaron screams into the night.

Author's Notes:

jasper-jordan: I'll just reply to both of your reviews here (thanks for both of them!). Jack might be the Joker...or he could just be a comedian named Jack, either way, we'll be seeing more of him. And another point for Team Oswald! You guys are the ones keeping Team Oswald in the lead, as the Wattpad guys are at a stalemate

Molojelly: Awe, thanks. And more Team Oswald!

Fuchsia Grasshopper: Haha, lol, I prefer Oswald in the suits personally. But now that he's back in the picture things are going to get intense, and maybe a little off the wall too ;)

Lola93091: No, the bathtub scene is for everyone :) Also, I'm not going to start making anything for AO3 until winter break, which is in two weeks. And didn't he already threaten her to do his bidding in the last chapter?

Thanks! :)