Chapter 64

I stumble back a couple of steps...that's not Ed. A nametag on the man's suit reads "Edward Nigma", not "Edward Nygma". A simple spelling error saved Ed's life. Relieved, but at the same time still shocked, my arms jolt when Oswald places his hands on my shoulders. Massaging my shoulders, he leans in close, "Let this be a lesson to you. Double-crossing me has consequences."

He kisses my neck, and I react by pushing him away, "And you think this is going to earn you any favors?! I wanted to give you a second chance, but you've just squandered it!"

Oswald shies back, "I...I just thought...you should be free from him."

"...what? First of all Oswald, that's not Ed, thank god. Second: you may have...understandable intentions, but your actions are inexcusable."

His sad puppy-dog expression shifts to one of malice, "Oh really? My actions are inexcusable? That's pretty rich coming from someone who just killed a girl to get her job."

My fists clench, and I try to conceal my shock and surprise. How does he know?

Clearly, I can't hide my emotions very well, because Oswald's lips curl into a wide grin, as he nods his head, "You thought you could fool me? Prevent me from sneaking into your apartment and finding your little costume? With the mask? Hmm?"

Turning aggressive, he pushes me against the doorway into the closet, chuckling through closed lips, "You and I are the same. We both want acceptance, love, and respect. But getting those things is not easy for people like us. So we wait...and wait...and hope that maybe, someday someone would accept us. But they don't, do they? So...the only way people will ever care about us...is if we force them to. And force them we shall."

He places a finger on the bottom of my chin, before kissing me on the lips. Why I let him, I don't know, maybe because he's right, maybe because he's wrong and I'm pitying him. But either way, the action is clear, no matter the motive.

"Trixie...stay. You're the only one who could possibly understand...how I feel," he pleads.

My expression softens, I certainly wasn't expecting something so...sentimental from him. But then again, he knows how to surprise me and then twist it to his advantage. I won't let him do that again.

"No Oswald, I'm not the only one who could understand you. Your mother will always understand you better than I ever could, she's your mother. And...and I'm sure that, throughout your life, you'll find many other people who've had similar experiences, people you can relate to. I'm not the only one."

He wraps his arms around me and smiles, "For a trained killer you're...are a very optimistic person."

I can't help but grin, "Maybe I'm just insane."

"Maybe you're just in love."

We kiss, Oswald practically forcing his tongue down my throat. I pull back just as there's a pounding at the door.

"GCPD, open up!" a loud voice booms.

Pulling out a purple handkerchief, Oswald quietly closes the door and wipes the handle with the handkerchief, "I already cleaned off the body," he whispers.

I follow him into the next room, careful that my fingerprints don't touch anything. Oswald hands me his handkerchief and I open up the rusty window leading to a fire escape.

From the other room, the door is kicked down just as I close the window. We hustle down to the ground level and make our escape into the street.

As we run, I slow down so Oswald can keep up with me. Running with a limp and in a suit must be unpleasant.

Eventually, we slow down to a walker's pace, as Oswald becomes out of breath.

"C'mon," I beckon playfully, throwing his arm over my shoulders to support him.

He leans his head into me, his hair rustling against my neck. I look over at him, I'd forgotten he can be quite cute when he doesn't open his mouth.

We make it back to our apartment complex, where I slip out from under Oswald. The moment I do, he collapses, hitting a nearby wall and nearly sliding to the floor.

"Oh no! Uhm...here," I grab his old umbrella from the nearby umbrella can and hand it to him.

Using it as a cane, he slowly begins standing up, until he's properly upright.

I look him over, "Oh...I like it. Very classy."

He smirks, puffing out his chest and marching over to me, umbrella in hand. Stopping just short of a couple of feet, he offers his hand, "Milady."

I chuckle, and playing along, I take his hand, "What a gentleman."

I close the door to my apartment after walking up the stairs with Oswald. Keeping a smile around that man becomes harder by the day and yet...there's still moments where he makes me laugh. And true, he didn't really kill Ed, but he wanted to, and he thought he did. I wonder how he got that mixed up? Whatever the reason, I'm just glad that Ed's alright.

I go to my room to pick up the clothes I'd precariously thrown during my rush to meet Oswald. I hide Sydney's punk rock clothes away with my Trickstress costume. Another alter-ego to add to the pile.

Next, I move to the living room and find the phone Oswald left for me. Guess the phone's mine, how convenient, I needed a phone. Finding a phone booth to call Amanda is becoming more difficult, even in Gotham.

I just finish moving the phone to its desired spot when I'm hit over the head with a large pot.

Blinking my eyes open, I find myself still in my apartment. This being the second time I've been knocked over the head today, I feel the need to at least rub my head and maybe check for any cartoonish red bumps.

Then I realize I can't move. Looking down, I find that I'm strapped to one of my dining room chairs with a thick rope, my chest, hands, and feet tightly bound to the back and legs of the chair. All of the lights are turned off, and the only source of light comes from the moonlight pouring in from the window.

"Oh, you're awake," an accented, familiar voice interjects.

From out under the shadows, Mrs. Cobblepot steps into the light, her demeanor calm and her hands folded together. I don't ask why, I just let her talk.

"Like poor Ozzy, I thought that maybe you were different. But no...a common slut looking to break my son's heart. Well, you've done just that, are you pleased with yourself?"

Can I reason with this woman? I wouldn't hurt to try, but I have a feeling that if I can't reason with Oswald, reasoning with his mother will be even more of a challenge.

"My intention was never to break his heart. His actions resulted in me ending our relationship-"

"He would do no such things!" she interrupts, "He's a wonderful boy, too good for the likes of a wicked savage like you!"

From behind her back, she holds a large kitchen knife in her hand. Raising it up, she plunges the knife downward. I kick my chair back, and the knife slices my left knee, but cuts the ropes binding my legs loose. Wincing in pain, I don't have much time before Mrs. Cobblepot comes at me with her knife again, and I'm only able to dodge with my upper body as the knife cuts into the floor. My leg bleeding out, I move it with both hands and grit my teeth through the pain. Once my leg is out of the way, I lunge out with both arms and attack Mrs. Cobblepot, strangling her with both hands. She struggles, and her hand finds the rope that had kept my legs bound. Flicking the rope, it lashes me in the cheek, stunning me. She gets the upper hand, standing up and pressing her low heel onto my forehead.

"No one hurts my son and gets out alive," Mrs. Cobblepot hisses, pressing the heel into my temple.

"Mother!" it's Oswald, shouting from downstairs.

Her head instantly flies up upon hearing the sound of his voice. She lifts her heel off of me and scurries to the door. Quickly turning around, she spits on the ground, "Good for nothing slut."

She slams the door, and under my breath, I mutter, "Bitch," because I know saying it to her face would've surely resulted in my death.

As I wiggle out of my remaining restraints, I try to avoid thinking about how deep my wound is. My head begins to feel light as I drag myself to the kitchen counter, leaving behind a trail of blood as I go. Applying pressure to the wound, I open up a kitchen cabinet to reveal a first aid kit. Taking out the needle and thread, I begin sewing up my wound. Whether Oswald knew or not, he probably saved my life. I know he can be a terrible, terrible person, but it can be so hard to see him that way, especially when he does something nice. Maybe that's just me still hoping that he can change for the better, but the rational side of me reasons that one person in his life can not single-handedly change him. But the other side of me jumps whenever Oswald shows even a glimmer of humanity. Can he change? Does he even want to?

Author's Note: In a few weeks (April 6th to the 8th), I will be away in New York City on spring vacation. At that time I will not be able to respond to messages, comments, or make posts. Thank you for understanding, I hope to hear from you all when I return.

Erik-is-my-angel1234: Thanks :D Sorry to deceive you, but that's not Ed. Oswald misread his name as "Edward Nigma" and therefore went after the wrong man. And Zsasz has always been an interesting character to write for, the interpretation on the show is very utilitarian and I wanted to expand on that

Narutoske: Uhm...not quite. Remember, Oswald and Ed don't officially meet until "The Scarecrow", and we're still on "Penguin's Umbrella". As for the threesome, I think all parties involved would object to that. The threesome reference in the dream world was just meant to be a throwaway joke on the unusual pairings fanfictions can use. Trust me, when they finally do meet on BOAF, it will make complete sense

Thanks! :)