Chapter 66

The next morning dawned bright and cold. Birds chirped sleepily from within their twig nests. Squirrels scurried up their trees, their cheeks stuffed with nuts and seeds. The servants awoke at the crack of dawn, gathering the ripe fruits and vegetables from the gardens. Breakfast was served by the time Ruby descended the steps, wearing a striped purple sweater and baggy jeans. Around her neck hung a chain of lapis lazulis, deep blue speckled with gold. From her ears hung turquoise shaped like tears. In her hand, carefully wrapped in a lace handkerchief, was another stone.

She stopped at the dining room's entrance. Heart beating quickly, she took in the sounds of silverware clinking against porcelain. Too many to come from one person. Beaming, she gave the door a gentle knock before walking inside. "G'morning, colleagues."

Oswald looked up from his breakfast. Flashed her a smile. "Good morning to you."

Ruby plopped down between the two men. Setting to work on buttering herself some toast, she glanced at Edward. The man eyed his watch, then chewed his lips nervously. She was about to question him when Oswald beat her to it. "Everything okay?"

"Fine." Edward gave them both an unconvincing, close-lipped smile before quickly setting back to work.

"You've been checking your watch all morning." Oswald stated. "Are you waiting for-"

"A call from Isabella." Edward replied with a brief nod. "She's at her librarian conference."

"How exciting." Ruby muttered. When she saw Edward's shaking hand lift his mug, however, she dropped her toast and rubbed his shoulder. He flashed her a rapid, grateful simper.

"Well," Oswald said, "Librarian conferences can be hectic affairs."

"Not so much." Edward replied nervously, his eyes on his watch.

Oswald leaned forward slightly, his hands folded. " I'm sure that she'll call soon."

As if on cue, the phone shrieked. Ruby's eyebrows shot up as she munched on her toast. Edward looked at Oswald, who gave him a curious, smug expression. Rising, the tall man brushed off his green suit as he picked up the phone. "Hello?" The hope in his voice evaporated. His face clanged shut like a steel gate. "This is Ed Nygma." He stated cautiously. Ruby turned over in her chair, her brow crinkled. There was a tense, momentary silence before Edward growled, "Why?" Ruby spun back into place, caught Oswald's eye, and mouthed, 'What?'

Oswald mouthed back, 'I don't know.' His feigned look of innocence must have been Oscar-worthy, for Ruby merely pressed her lips together as Edward gave a, "Very well," and hung up. "What's up?" She asked the green-clad man.

"That was the GCPD." Edward informed her, his eyes betraying his thousand thoughts. "They want to see me. Wouldn't say why."

Oswald felt his heart skip a beat. Quickly arranging his face into unassuming guiltlessness, he merely squeaked, "Oh?"

Edward walked back towards his chair, where he rested his hands. White fingers anxiously drummed against the chair's rosewood spine. Eyes flickered. Landed on familiar faces. "You don't think something happened?" Edward's voice was an octave higher than usual. Ruby swallowed, unsure of what to say, before simply shrugging. Oswald took longer to answer. He just stared up at Edward before letting out an exaggerated, "No!"

Ruby turned back to him, her eyes filled with questions.

It all happened in one fatal blow. Like a flash of blinding lightning. Or a tremor that splits a sidewalk in two.

One minute, there was just a concealed body on a metal slab. No different from the million others that have come and gone.

Then, in one fell swoop, the sheet was removed. Then, it wasn't just another stiffening corpse.

Edward made a noise as though his lungs had suddenly shriveled. Ruby covered her mouth with both ring-laden hands. Oswald did not react at all.

Lying on the metal table was a woman whose death had robbed her of beauty. Her skin had become a lifeless white, already tinged blue. Her body was as rigid as a stick doll, her lips the color of chalk. Her hair, dyed a familiar auburn, was disheveled and stuck to the scalp with blood. Half her face was a scarred ruin, all bloody tissue and puckered flesh.

Ruby, still covering her mouth, looked away shakily.

Oswald leaned towards a man's whispers, then proceeded towards his friend. Cautiously, as one would a wild animal. "They said Isabella drove past a red light and crashed into a train." His voice softened. "Yours was the last number on her phone." Edward let out a broken little sigh. Ruby walked up behind him. Took his wrist. Squeezed hard. Edward kept his eyes shut, lest the tears come spilling. Regaining control of himself was like trying to piece together a shattered china vase. Yet in the end, he recuperated some semblance of composure. "Did she suffer?" He whispered.

Oswald looked down at the body. He may as well have been examining a cut of sirloin. "No."

Ruby inhaled shakily through her teeth. "I'm so sorry, Ed." She said honestly. Unable to handle another second, the first deputy mayor exited the room. Oswald glanced after her before taking a deep breath. How many times had he imagined being alone with this man? This wonderful, amazing, brilliant man? This little, concentrated piece of perfection?

Oswald spoke softly. Tenderly. From the heart...but not too much. "Anything you need, Ed. Anything at all...I am here for you."

The damn behind Edward's eyes crumbled. Turning around slowly, like a sleepwalker, he trapped Oswald into a desperate hug. Eyes bulging, pulse racing, Oswald quickly returned the embrace. As Edward stared lifelessly ahead of him, Oswald sighed blissfully. Trying to take in all in, every scent and sensation. Like a delicious wine that he'd crossed the desert to taste.

The next few days passed by like water and oil. There was Oswald, who practically skipped everywhere he went despite his bum knee. Then, there were Ruby and Edward: Ruby, who lost her appetite and became gray in the face, and Edward, who spent the days locked up in his room grieving his lost love. Oswald tried to cheer both of them up, to no avail. Even his cheer soon faded into the house's gray atmosphere.

Ruby was forced to suffer in silence due to her conflicting loyalties. On one hand, she could not tell Edward what was troubling her because doing so would make him wonder why she had warned Isabella to beware the Penguin. On the other hand, she could not force a smile and go about her life. Everywhere she went, she felt as though Isabella's ghost was following her. Accusing her of letting the poor woman die.

Edward was even worse off. At least Ruby, despite eating little, still consumed something. A granola bar for breakfast. Half a sandwich at lunch. The Chief of Staff hardly touched food anymore. Even with the door locked, his wailing could be heard from nearly any point of the house.

This was all wrong, Oswald felt. This was supposed to be the part where the obstacle was removed, and everything fixed itself. Instead, looking around, he would have almost gone back to having the harlot around. At least then, Ed would be happy.

All of these thoughts circulated his mind as he stood before the sunny window. Having decided to take advatage of the fine morning, he'd summoned an artist to paint a portrait of him in all his glory. Such was the tradition of all great men: to be immortalized in oil and canvas, captured in a noble moment. He had even slipped into his best suit -black, with a white shirt and a deep purple tie - for the occasion. There was a white rose in the breast pocket and the zircon stone hung from his neck. Oswald posed carefully as he felt himself being studied by the painter. Every detail dissected, memorized, and copied.

He glimpsed at Ruby and felt his heart sink a little further. They had been in the same room for hours now, and she had barely spoken to him. She was curled up like a cat in one of the armchairs, dressed in a purplish-red sweater and baggy black jeans, the cuffs rolled up. A string of rose quartz, ranging from soft to bubblegum in shades of pink, sat on her collarbone. Rutile shards hung from her ears. Ruby looked just like her old self...if one excluded the dark circles under her eyes. Those haunted, indigo eyes travelled down the pages of Neil Gaiman's American Gods.

Muffled classical music ate at Oswald's nerves like termites in rosewood. Sighing, he dropped his pose. "Would you excuse me for a moment?" Without waiting for the artist's reply, he marched off towards the sound. It blossomed to headache-inducing proportions as he entered one of his studies. A record player wailed Italian opera while Edward lay half-buried under a blanket.

"Ed?" Oswald had to yell in order to be heard.

There was a moment's pause. Then, "Yes?"

Oswald pointed. "The music!"

Edward rose. "It's too loud. I'm sorry." Abruptly, the music died. The dead air hung, almost expectantly. The tall man sighed. "Isabella always loved Vivaldi."

Oswald, trying to keep his temper in check, asked, "So, you are just going to sit here?"

"Yes." It was barely more than a whisper.

"All by yourself?" Oswald continued.

"Correct." Edward muttered.

Oswald wanted to scream. Kick the damned record player and smash the black disc into smithereens. Grab Edward by his shirt and shake the sorrow out of him. Instead, he spat out, "Fine."

Only to return a moment later.

"Ed, I as much as anyone, know how hard it is to lose someone. Even if you've only known them for, like..." Oswald, unable to recollect exactly when this nightmare had started, blurted out, "a couple of months. But this is not healthy behavior. It is depressing...and if I'm being honest, a bit scary." Those final words bled him more than scalpels ever could. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Edward. But if this could snap him out of this depressed stupor, perhaps it would prove to be a necessary evil.

Edward looked up at him. His brown eyes were as flat and lifeless as chunks of driftwood. "Less scary. Check."

"No, you're not..." Oswald shook his head, trying to stay in control, when he picked the next-best phrase. "Ed, you need to heal. And healing is about moving on."

Edward was still for a moment. Then, he sat up. Staring out thoughtfully. "No doubt you're right." He croaked.

Oswald, finally seeing a tiny ray of light, smiled. "Of course I'm right."

Edward shrugged the blanket off. Still staring out into space, he spoke with more determination than he had in days. "I'll go to where she was taken from me, and say goodbye."

Oswald's throat constricted. He would have objected, but a feminine voice rose from behind him. "I'll come with you." Turning, he saw Ruby standing in the doorway, her expression a mixture of confidence and empathy. Sensing his eyes on her, Ruby gave Oswald a soft smile. Reaching out, she took his hand. "Don't worry, we'll be home before nightfall." She turned back to Edward. "Right, Ed?"

Edward's eyes filled with tears. His lower lips quibbled. He nodded.

The railroad tracks were clean.

No blood. No new markings. It was as if Isabella's lethal accident had never transpired. It was a cruel joke, giving Edward the false impression that, maybe, his love was still alive. Trying not to break into fresh tears, he knelt down and placed the fresh lillies onto the tracks. Ruby, buttoned up in her coat against the chilly afternoon wind, eyed the flowers. They had been Edward's choice. She remembered an old phrase that the Master's mother used to say about lillies: "Quick to ripe, quick to rot." In a sense, this made them the most suited blossoms for Isabella.

"Gotham...such a strange city." Edward whispered. Ruby couldn't tell if he was talking to her, or to himself. "Where else would someone as wicked as, say, Galavan live...while a being as pure as Isabella perishes?"

Ruby closed her eyes. "I'm really sorry, Ed. I know how hard it is to move on after you've lost someone."

Edward turned to her with big, surprised eyes. "You do?"

Ruby cracked a smile. Nodded. "I lost my Master. He fed me, clothed me, took me in when my own parents wouldn't." She swallowed. Hard. "I miss him every single day, and I think about him all the time." A single tear ran down her cheek. Hot, then cold. "But...he's never coming back." She looked at Edward. "That fact can seem impossible to accept."

Edward stared at her for a long minute. "I'm..." He gave a weak laugh. "I don't know why, but I'm surprised you're capable of understanding how I feel."

"More than you know." Ruby assured him. "There's nothing wrong with crying over someone you've loved, Ed. It just means they meant something to you, and their absence makes you sad." She shook her head. Hearing this, she could already predict her future. Her mother would die cursing her. And when Ruby's time came, the only one to truly mourn her would be Oswald...and even then, he wouldn't mourn her with half the passion he would should Edward die. Immediately regretting these thoughts, Ruby buried them. She offered Edward a weak smile. And her hand. For perhaps the first time, she truly offered him her hand.

For perhaps the first time, Edward truly accepted it.

There was a flash. Two shadows merged into one. Then, the light faded.

Panting, gasping, the figure stood on shaky feet. Tried to take a step, stumbled, and dropped to its knees. "Wha...what the...?" The croak was neither male nor female. Blinking hard as their vision adjusted, the eyes found a murky puddle. Made out a figure.

Screaming, the figure jolted back. Then, stopped. Took a deep breath.

It was a figure taller than Ruby, but shorter than Edward. Straight hair slicked back, like Edward's, but streaked in fair highlights. Rutile earrings hung from the lobes. The face was long with high cheekbones, but possessed soft, pink lips and a simple, straight nose. The glasses had grown even larger, taking up nearly half of the new face. Behind the lenses, two pairs of eyes peered out at the world: one was sardonyx-brown, the other was dark blue.

The figure looked down. It was more feminine than anything else, with only the broad shoulders echoing Edward's slender figure. But at the elbows, two lower arms sprouted from each one, like miniature conjoined twins. The figure held up their arms in fascination before examining its clothes. It wore a cross of Ruby and Edward's wardrobe: Edward's silken trousers and coat, with Ruby's reddish-purple sweater and jewelry.

"Wow, I just...wow." The figure...Rubard...was silent for a moment, then smiled. Their voice deepened. "No wonder you and Oswald love doing this so much."

That was when a homeless man approached them, holding out a paper cup.

That moment would change everything.