AN: Thank you for the follows/favorites/reviews and thank you to my guest reviewers as well! You guys are awesome and please continue to let me know what you think, what you would like to see, how you think the story is going, etc! Also I know I've been writing 'Nigma' instead of 'Nygma' (like how it is on the show) and I want to go back and change it but I am too lazy for that at the moment), but I'll be writing it like 'Nygma' starting with these recent chapters and from now on. Enjoy!

Playlist:

Blue Foundation-Eyes on Fire

The Boxer Rebellion-Promises

Chapter 29

Isabelle and Edward left a back way from the venue and Edward quickly found them a taxi. They were now sitting at the kitchen table in Edward's apartment, chairs close together as Isabelle wiped what she could of Oswald's blood from him and his tux. Edward and Isabelle had both been surprised at how much blood had poured from Oswald's nose. Isabelle felt guilty as she sat gently cleaning the scratches on her friend's face.

"You should know, you didn't ruin my night. I had a great night, for the most part. The ruining was all Mr. Cobblepot," Edward said in between winces from the sting of the alcohol soaked cotton ball.

It was the first thing either of them had said to the other since the fight. "Maybe if I'd told Oswald I was going with you. This wouldn't have happened if I'd told Oswald beforehand. I didn't even think about it."

Edward cut her off. "No, don't do that," Edward insisted. "None of this is your fault Isabelle. Although, from what I know and have now seen of Mr. Cobblepot, perhaps you should move on to someone who would treat you better. Someone who wouldn't let a little thing like jealousy rule their emotions."

"I think we both saw tonight that jealousy isn't exactly a little thing."

"Mmmm, I wrote Miss Kringle a poem and Flass found it," Edward said.

"And he made fun of you," Isabelle pulled back from the angry gashes going down his face to look at him.

He looked down at Isabelle's bare feet. "Flass called me a perve and a creep."

"Edward, don't listen to them," Isabelle said, setting down the cotton ball onto the towel that was set on the table. She took his hand and he looked back up at her. "A guy like Flass has probably been like that since high school. He's probably, disgustingly, used to making fun of guys that are different than he is. It's how he gets his kicks, it's because he likes the attention he gets from his buddies when he does it. It's immature and you, Edward, are way above that. Besides, I mean, look at you. You are so intelligent, and kind, and sweet, and funny. Flass probably sees you as a threat. He knows that a girl like Miss Kringle would be lucky to have you. He knows you're the kind of guy he'll never be."

Edward smiled widely at her, grateful for her kind words. But they weren't just words, he knew she meant them and they made him feel good, inside and out. Isabelle made Edward feel good he realized as her warm hand still held his. She was one of the kindest people he knew. "Well she did apologize and she said the card was thoughtful. A touch of hope I'd say."

"I'd say so too. Just show her the real you," she smiled but it faded quickly, replaced with a frown. "I'm so sorry Edward," she sighed. "Look at your face! Look at your suit!" Her vision began to blur as tears filled her eyes. She was just-angry, at Oswald, at herself, at this stupid city.

Edward immediately scooted his chair closer to hers and put his arms around her. She cried into his already ruined suit, mumbling something about promising to repay him. She had absolutely no idea what to even think about Oswald at the moment. She'd known Oswald could have the tendency to be possessive that night he was in her room at Barbara's and he'd questioned her about Edward. She didn't think much of it then but she had no idea it could've been this bad. He expressed worry over Edward then and she was quick to reassure him that he had nothing to worry about. "He doesn't trust me."

"What?" Edward pulled back to look at her.

"He must not trust me. Otherwise, why would he act like that tonight?"

"And…have you given him a reason not to?"

"Not that I can think of," she answered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands and seeing the mascara smeared on them now.

~O.o~

Once again, Oswald was at the police station, this time sitting across from Jim Gordon. He held a handkerchief to his nose, his mouth and chin covered in half dry, half fresh blood.

"What was that tonight? Jim said. His face was stern as he watched the young man before him.

Oswald could tell Jim was trying to figure out what Isabelle could possibly see in him. He was honestly wondering the same thing right now. He'd let his emotions get the better of him and she'd left with Edward, looking almost as horrified as when he killed that guy with the busted beer bottle.

"Well?" Jim snapped.

"I made love to Isabelle the night before she went to Switzerland!" Oswald blurted out.

Jim's eyes widened but Oswald rushed on. "I-I just felt so much love for her that night, you see. I mean I love her so much. I didn't mean to hurt her tonight, in any way, you must, she must understand that! I just saw her with Nygma and all I could feel or see was all-consuming fear! The fear of losing her to him!" He didn't mention that he had been a bit on edge since Fish and Butch showed up at the club. He'd thought for a moment then that he was a goner. Of course he feared Fish; he'd be a fool not to. But he hated her more. He had his club in his grasp and for the slightest moment thought it would be snatched right back. One single sentence she'd spoken plagued him though.

"How's Isabelle doing Penguin? Hmm?" Fish asked.

Oswald's face burned with anger, "I know what you did to her! And you will pay dearly for it. Mark my words."

Fish didn't even blink. "You know, it's sad how much you love that sweet girl 'cause you mark my words, Penguin, you'll be the death of her."

Her words nearly turned his stomach.

Oswald blinked and Jim Gordon came back into focus.

Jim tilted his head and the image of Isabelle's disheveled appearance in the hallway flashed in his mind. "What do you mean you didn't mean to hurt her 'in any way?' Did you put your hands on my niece?" Jim rose from his chair.

Oswald shrank back into his own chair. "No!" He was horrified at the thought. "Never! I would never! I swear! I-I may have c-called her a wh-whore! I'm sorry!"

Oswald's heart was pounding as Jim grabbed a fistful of his suit and lifted him so the tips of his shoes weren't even grazing the ground.

Jim's face was red. "You are never to talk to her like that again. If I hear even a whisper of you disrespecting her in any way I will take you to the docks and kill you like I should have done in the first place. Believe me I've considered it a couple times already. I tolerate you for her sake only. Are we clear?"

Oswald nodded, clutching onto Jim's hands as they held him up.

Jim released Oswald and he tumbled to the floor.

"Get out of my sight Penguin," Jim sneered and he watched with satisfaction as Oswald scrambled away from him and ran into desks, knocking several things down in his haste to get out of the station.

~O.o~

Isabelle dried her tears with a tissue and blew her nose. "I'm sorry Edward. I should probably head back to the manor now."

"Not this late, by yourself. You should call Alfred. Wait here for him to come get you at least."

Isabelle nodded. That was definitely the safer way to go.

"I would never hurt you," Edward whispered after a moment.

"What?" Isabelle looked at him, her eyes holding his.

Edward swallowed and quickly leaned forward and bent down, pressing his lips to Isabelle's. They shared a single kiss before she placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed away. "Edward, I can't."

He looked away, embarrassed. "Of course. I know. Even after the way Oswald acted tonight you still love him. It's only logical. I was foolish to invade your space like that."

"It's all right Edward." She pressed a light kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for a fun night, and for standing up for me. I'm going to go call Alfred."

Edward watched her go into the living room to use his phone. He berated himself as he heard her talking in the other room and inspected his now bruised knuckles. When she came back into the room he looked up.

"Alfred will be here shortly," she smiled.

~O.o~

When Isabelle, Alfred, and Bruce arrived at the manor Jim was waiting, leaning against his car.

"Uncle Jim," Isabelle walked up to him.

"Isabelle. I dealt with Oswald."

She looked at him questioningly.

"Let's head inside Master Bruce. It's been quite the night." Alfred said, placing a hand on Bruce's shoulder and steering him inside the manor.

"He told me you were…together, the night before you left for Switzerland. I know what he called you tonight." Jim said.

Isabelle was silent.

"Are you okay?" Jim asked.

"I'm not sure what I am Uncle Jim," she said truthfully.

Jim sighed and pulled her in for a hug. "Why can't we just go back to when you cried over birds instead of boys?"

Isabelle chuckled and hugged him back.

~O.o~

That night Oswald got rip-roaring drunk in his club. Again. Except this time it wasn't celebratory. He was disgusted with himself as he lay splayed out in a booth, staring up at the ceiling, his hands folded in his lap. He'd hurt her, immensely. He'd let fear and jealousy cloud his judgement so much that he broke his promise. Again.

He groaned and sat up, grabbing the almost empty bottle of very expensive wine. He looked around the empty club, taking it all in. Whereas before he couldn't be happier at the site of the dimly lit place being his, now, he realized, he wanted Isabelle more than…this. If he had this club and eventually Gotham but no Isabelle, what was it even for anymore? There was a time when that thought would never EVER have even dared to cross his mind but Isabelle changed that. Hadn't she said as much? Having the whole city wouldn't equal happiness. She changed him, if only a little bit. His sole purpose was no longer to have all of Gotham under his thumb. All he'd really exceeded in was hurting the one person he thought he was trying so hard not to hurt. He downed the last of the wine and, yelling, he smashed the empty bottle on the edge of the table.

~O.o~

That night Isabelle packed all of her things into her duffel bag and backpack, leaving all of her books except for two for Bruce. She placed the box with the earrings Bruce had loaned on top of the stack. With her purse around her and bags in hand she slipped out of the mansion while it was still dark. She left a note for Alfred of course, explaining that she'd decided to leave but also that she wasn't going in to the city, at least not Gotham. She was going to another city, but she didn't know which one yet. She just needed to get away. She told him she would call Jim once she found a place to stay for the night to let him know she was all right.