Chapter 104

With some trouble, I make my way home and quickly change out of my costume. It's still the early evening, and I'm looking forward to a long night's sleep. Placing my costume and other equipment back into the metal suitcase, I slide it under the bed before collapsing onto the bed myself.

My head's killing me...and least now...I can close my eyes, and get some rest-

There's a knock at the door. That better not be Oswald…maybe I should just not answer it. He'll barge in here anyway, that inconsiderate brat.

"Nat?" Ed knocks on the door once again, "You called in sick to work today. I wanted to see if you were actually ill or simply hung over."

I can't help but chuckle a little at that. Ed knows me well…

I get up to answer the door, but halfway through the living room my vision starts to cloud, this time becoming blurry, and distorting the room around me. I stumble backwards, but force myself to push forward, finally making it to the door.

"Hey Ed," I sigh, swinging open the door.

Ed, now dressed in a forest green stripe printed suit instead of his usual lab coat, stands with both hands behind his back. He suddenly frowns, "Nat...you look unwell. Tired, in need of rest."

I chuckle, "Yeah, I...I bumped my head. I think I might have a concussion."

His eyes widen, "Well, we must get you to bed right away. Two to three days of consistent rest should be the minimum requirement."

I smile, but also get a bad feeling in my gut. Two to three days? With my schedule, I barely get two to three hours of rest.

Ed leads me back to bed, which is a huge relief for me. He tucks the covers, and sits in the armchair by my bed. Luckily, my pyjama shirt covers the wounds on my back, but I still bite my lip as Ed puts his hand on my shoulder.

"I will be your in-house caretaker for the next couple of days. I will fetch everything you need, and assist you in daily tasks," he informs.

"Thanks Ed. You're the best guy to have around when someone's sick. But...no chamber pot this time, okay?"

His expression becomes confused, "Well, I certainly won't let you wet the bed. ...I'll go find you a bucket to-"

"No!" I interrupt, before my seriousness dissolves into laughter, "I can get up to go to the bathroom, Ed. Don't worry about it."

"Oh...alright. Well, I won't disturb you from your rest any longer. I will sleep in the same vicinity to comfort you."

Ed suddenly falls to the floor, lying down on his side.

I peer over the bed, "Ed...you're not going to sleep on the floor, are you?"

"Well I'm not sleeping upright in the chair, humans are meant to sleep while lying down, we're not giraffes," he counters.

I scoot over in my bed, patting on the empty space, "C'mon. You can sleep on the bed with me."

He slowly gets up, and without word or complaint, takes off his shoes before slipping under the covers next to me.

"Well...this is rather unusual. It's unprofessional for a caretaker to sleep with their patient-"

"Shh," I stop him, as I wrap my arms around his.

He looks down at me as I close my eyes. With his free arm, he pats me on the head, "Goodnight Nat."

I'm jolted awake, not by the sound of my door opening, but of my bedroom door being flung open, slamming back against the adjacent wall.

"Where were you last night?" Oswald questions, his tone sharp and quick.

I push myself up, but as soon as I do the headache comes flooding back, with parts of my vision going dark. Not now, not now…

Oswald grabs me by the lapels of my pyjama shirt and pulls me so close his nose rams against my forehead, "Where?"

I glance to my side. Ed's gone, thank god. The situation would have been twice as worse had he been here.

I push Oswald away and scoot off of the bed, "Relax. I was busy."

Opening my nightstand drawer, I take out the retrieved roll of camera film and toss it to Oswald, "Evidence. Marsha's file from the precinct listed a warehouse out by the docks, and when I investigated it, I found a cache of stolen goods. It should be enough to get her put away if we work fast enough."

He holds the roll of camera film in his hands, "Why didn't you give this to me sooner? For all we know, Marsha and her men could have packed up and left by now."

I roll my eyes, "Because I was here, alright? And where were you, exactly?"

"I was held up at Bamonte's. Don Maroni likes to have dinner with his men after the restaurant closes up," he explains.

"Well, fine. Just get the film developed and turn it into the police."

Oswald steps forward, "I don't want to get them arrested, I want to end them."

I groan, "Look, I'm suffering from a concussion, as well as the cuts on my back, no thanks to you. I've done what I can, so go."

I collapse back onto the bed, and Oswald slowly shuffles towards me, "You have a concussion…?"

"Go!" I point to the door.

After standing in place for a couple of seconds, Oswald turns around and starts limping to the door. With a careful hand, he quietly closes the door.

Oswald hobbles out of Trixie's apartment, his head bowed low as he bites his lip. What has he done? All he asked for was a little love and friendship, and now she hates him even more. Doesn't she understand that he does the things he does because...because he cares?

He starts hobbling up the stairs to his apartment when a shuffling of feet across the wooden floor stops him in his tracks. Who could that be?

With his limp leg, he starts shuffling himself to turn around on the stairs, pressing his hands against either side of the wall. He clambers down as fast as he can, but just as he reaches the bottom, the door to Trixie's room is slammed shut. Oswald gaits to the door, and presses his ear against it.

"Nat, I apologize for leaving you without notice, I thought I'd let you sleep in. I went out to fetch some supplies. Microwavable meals, soaps, shampoos, some chocolate, ice packs, heating pad, a bag of 'Get Well Soon' balloons I will hang up around the room, and plenty of feminine products-"

Trixie interrupts him by laughing, "Awe, thanks Ed. And you wrapped it all in a gift basket, that's so sweet."

Oswald clenches his fists. He should barge in there right now and kill that son-of-a-bitch. Edward...if only he'd killed Edward Nygma and not Edward Nigma. He could do it right now. Charge in with his knife and end his life, right in front of her. She might cry and scream, but she'll be grateful he killed him in the end. Yes, he could imagine it now, she'll forget him within months, weeks even. She'll see what a fool she's been, pining for that man. With that distraction gone, she'll have no choice but to return to his arms.

But as Oswald's hand clasps the doorknob, the sounds of Trixie's laughter infiltrates his ear. She's laughing...a sound so sweet. She hasn't laughed for him like that, at least, not in a long time. What's so special about this Edward that she reserves her laughter for him?

Her laughter continues and Oswald finds himself clawing at the door with his hands. He can't take this for much longer, he has to end Edward, now, now!

But then Oswald stops, as he listens to her laughter mix with the laughter of the man. He makes her so happy, something he can not. Whatever foul witchcraft he's performing, it's certainly working. It's just...it's just not fair! Oswald sniffles as he squints with his lower eyelids.

Oswald's head drags slightly down as he continues listening to her laugh and talk. As a single tear rolls down each cheek, he closes his eyes and imagines that she's laughing for him. Perhaps he made an intelligent quip, or maybe some nonsensical onomatopoeia. Either way, her laughter is for him, and him alone. Oswald sighs, a grin growing across his lips, yes, yes…

He jerks himself out of his fantasy. No, he can't make her laugh like that. But...he could. He has before, and he could again. He just needed a way, some way…

Oswald starts shambling back down the hallway and up the stairs. An idea starts growing in his head, while neither simple gestures nor sadistic control won her affection, perhaps the solution is a mix of the two. He shall charm her with poise and poetry as much as with pain and prejudice. And he knows the perfect way to start.

Wiping away the tears, he opens the door to his apartment, where his mother is dusting the furniture.

"Oh, there you are Ozzy, you're usually gone to work by now," Mother smiles.

Oswald smiles back. He'd been lying to Mother about how much time he spends at work. A lot of his "extra hours" are spent with Trixie.

"They don't need me until later today," Oswald excuses, maintaining his smile, "in the meantime, I'm going to get some work done in my room."

"Oh, my boy, so hard working. Your mother is very proud of you," she coos, walking up to pinch his cheeks.

He pulls her into a hug, "Awe, Mom…"

Pulling away, Oswald gives his mother one last smile before waddling into his room, and quietly closing the door. If only Trixie could be sweet like Mother, maybe the two of them would get along.

Oswald seats himself on his bed, leaning over to get a paper and pen from his nightstand. Clicking open the pen, he starts frantically writing, treating the strokes of his pen like the passionate flourishes of a quill feather.

"No...no...ugh, that sounds corny...no...no...too Richard III...hmph...darn, that's not ten syllables! Grr...ugh...hmph...no, now's it's too Romeo and Juliet...ugh, this is a disaster!"

Oswald crumples up the paper and throws it off to the side. How did the Bard find the inspiration to write such wonderful poetry? He could only merely imitate his style, with terrible effect.

Oswald sighs, as his mind starts to wander off to thoughts of Trixie. If only Mother approved of her, Trixie could sleep here in her rightful place. He recalled the night they'd met, she'd followed him home and they fell asleep reading Hamlet. Her head leaning against his side, how good it felt to be touched.

Oswald unwittingly starts to undo his pants, sliding the lower half of his body under the covers. Look what she's brought him to. Now even lowly pleasures give him at least some relief.

But when she touches him, it's not so much lust as it is love. True love. He could feel it coursing through her veins, or see a glimmer of it in her eyes. Even when she's at her worst, just a taste is divine.

His mind then shifts to when he and Trixie first kissed. What a moment, the moment he finally realized that she returned his feelings, however alien and strange they seemed at the time.

Or what about the time when he gave her flowers, purposefully including gardenia into the bouquet, and lo-and-behold, she chooses the gardenia, the flower of secret love, to bestow to him.

Oswald leans back, opening his mouth as the bedsheets move and shift, "Trixie...yes...yes, I love you…"

He elicits a soft, elongated moan before relaxing back onto the bed. This has gone too far, he needs to get rid of her now. But...who would give him that affection he craved? How could he replace someone who loves him so well?

No, no, the solution should be to shut out these feelings completely. They're a liability, a weakness, because he'd care if something were to happen to her.

But...what if something happened to her? By his hand nonetheless? Could his own hand destroy the thing he loves, even if it's what's best for him?

Oswald reaches over to grab some tissues from the nearby nightstand, he needs to find a way to control his urges, he can't keep living like this. Perhaps he will need to find a bargaining chip, something to give him leverage. Trixie does have a lot of friends, but he will have to wait for the right moment to strike.

Author's Note: Happy birthday to me...happy birthday to me

sky-fei:I'm glad you're still enjoying the story, and that's a crazy story. Maybe someone was getting just a little too deep into their cosplay, who knows ;)

Langley21: Haha, while Natalie did mean it as a way to mock the Archer, it could be taken another way. I personally know as a writer that having empathy is important to writing characters (and just in life in general), but like you said, Oswald knows how to manipulate strengths and weaknesses. I've always said that Oswald would make a good middle manager. And yes, I have seen the Season 2 previews, and my head is just bursting with ideas on where this will take BOAF. Unfortunately, due to my schedule, I can't watch the episodes right away, so including the fact that I'm on PST and will be already getting it three hours after everyone else, I'll probably have to watch it on the FOX website the day later

Thanks! :)