[A/N - In this chapter, Eddie finally gets to give some riddles! All the riddles in the fic, I made up - except for the mirror one, which I found online. So, if the riddles are atrocious, you have no one to blame but me! ;)]

Chapter Two - Smash the Mirror

Every dawn in Gotham was grey. This one was no exception, wet light filtering into the empty rooms and cold drab hallways of the vast Van Dahl mansion. Only two rooms had occupants to greet the light and to them, it was anything but cold and grey. No, today's dawn marked the beginning of their joint reign in Gotham, of the beginning of a them. Oswald rose and prepared for the day like a man in a dream. His already uncooperative legs seemed to be made of lead and the action of taking a single step forward seemed to take twenty additional thoughts to make the movement happen. He wanted this so desperately and yet felt paralyzed by fear and inaction. While last night had filled him with hope - knowing Ed was just upstairs sleeping peacefully, safe from those who had sought to harm him - today reminded him of just how close he was to losing yet another person he loved. His mind jolted painfully back through holding his mother as she died and his father as he died. He had almost held Ed as he died too. The thought chilled him to his very core, but he tried to push it out of his mind, reminding himself that he was well and truly the king of Gotham now and he had the power to make sure no one hurt the people he loved ever again. With that thought in mind, he forced himself to button on his cuff links, adjust his tie, and prepare for the day - and the task - before him.

Much to his surprise, when he came downstairs and entered the dining room, Ed was already there pouring coffee into two identical mugs.

"Morning," he said, as if this were a matter of routine.

"Ed, what are you doing? You should be resting."

"A good Chief of Staff never rests, Oswald," Ed chuckled, seeming to relish his new position.

"They do when they were almost strangled to death," Oswald said, trying to hide the tremble in his voice as he slightly parted Ed's shirt collar in order to examine the bruise.

"Nonsense." Ed said, standing very still as Oswald surveyed the memento of last night's party, "Gotham never stops and neither can we. You have a busy day ahead of you, Mister Mayor. I took the liberty of organizing a little event, I hope you don't mind."

"An event? What kind of event?"

"More like a rally, I'd say," Ed proudly remarked, "To discuss what happened last night in greater detail and move forward with punishing Butch for his crime."

"You mean prosecuting him for his crime," Oswald replied, sharing a look with his Chief of Staff that suggested they we both in on the political joke.

"Yes, of course," Ed grinned, before leading Oswald over to a television, "Speaking of...take a look."

As he clicked the television on, a news report began featuring a reporter standing in front of The Sirens nightclub, which was still a crime scene. The beige-clad woman doing the newscast recounted the dramatic story of the Red Hood leader's raid on the place and the valiant, quick-thinking actions of the new mayor that stopped the disaster in its tracks. Ed proceeded to flip through channel after channel, each detailing the same pattern of story - The mayor saved the day, the mayor made good on his plan to keep Gotham safe, the mayor protected his Chief of Staff, the mayor uncovered corruption in his own regime and wasn't afraid to confront it head on. Overwhelmed by the flattery, Oswald sank into a nearby chair in shock. Ed came to his side, gripping the top of the chair and leaning over to continue watching the television in front of them. Even without looking up, Oswald could feel Ed's presence hovering above him.

"You're their hero," Ed whispered, looking down, "And they can't wait for you to come out and greet them."

A small laugh escaped the mayor's lips, a laugh of shock and contentment as he stared blankly ahead at the newscast. But after a moment he came back down to earth, remembering the real reason he had done what he did last night, and the one person he hoped saw him as a hero more than any of the others.

"Hey, um, Ed? There's actually something I want to talk to you about..." he said, turning to face Ed as he moved to walk away.

The other man stopped dead in his tracks and looked back to face him, "Hm, what a coincidence. As a matter of fact, there's something I would like to say to you as well."

"Oh. Then by all means, go ahead."

"No, no, you're the mayor and the star of the hour. I insist."

"Alright..." Oswald said, managing a weak smile. He hadn't anticipated this being as hard as it was shaping up to be, "Well...Ed. I um...well, about last night, I..."

Just as he was plucking up the nerve to launch into what he wanted to say, an attention-grabbing noise blared from the television, signaling a developing news story. Both men jumped slightly, shifting awkwardly back and forth to disguise it as their gazes swiveled in unison to see what was unfolding.

"Breaking news now from the GCPD," the beige reporter was saying, "Our sources report that Butch Gilzean, leader of the Red Hood gang responsible for the two attacks on Gotham city mayor Oswald Cobblepot, was broken out of his police escort late last night. Officials say that the GCPD transport van was attacked by an unknown assailant who fled the scene with Gilzean..."

At the reporter's words, Oswald felt ever muscle tense up in primal fear, his mouth opening in complete shock, every vein tensing and every breath halting before it could be drawn.

"No..." he whispered and for several seconds it was all he could manage, "NO!"

"Oswald..." Ed tried to brooch gently, but even he looked pale and unnerved by the news that their new enemy was prowling the streets once more, probably out for blood.

"No, Ed, this can't happen! This is an outrage. This is a disaster! He has to be caught, Ed, he has to be!" he struck his fist against a nearby table, causing the trinkets on it to shake violently.

"Alright, alright, it will be okay..." Ed said, although his voice betrayed a tiny sliver of doubt, "First things first, I'm going to make some calls and cancel your event today and-"

"No, don't."

"What?"

"Don't cancel the event, Ed. The event is still on."

"Oswald, that's tantamount to suicide! Butch will want your head."

"And that's exactly why I need to do it," Oswald cut in, "I need to show the people their new mayor won't be silenced by a brute. I vowed to make Gotham safe again and that's exactly what I'm going to do, starting by confronting him!"

"I can't let you do this, Oswald. I can't let you risk your life to uphold a campaign slogan."

"I thought you said you'd do anything for me, Edward Nygma." Oswald replied, levelling him with a glance that did not communicate anger, just appraisal.

The memory of last night's promise seemed to remind Ed of his obligation. He looked almost a little wistful at the thought of it.

"And I would," he whispered at last, "Anything except let you be killed. You can't ask me to do that."

"And you won't have to," Oswald responded, limping forward to place his hands reassuringly on Ed's shoulders. It was moments like this when he realized just how tall Ed was, "I'll be alright, I promise you that."

Ed nodded feebly, and patted Oswald's hand as if to show he was willing to trust his new boss had a plan - even if he perhaps didn't agree with it. They stood there in that position for a few seconds longer before both men seemed to remember themselves and their obligations.

"Right then," Oswald cleared his throat, the two men untangling themselves from each other's grasp, "You make sure everything is planned for the event and I am going to go write a speech."

"Right. Good. Just remember, speak from the heart and don't put too much thought into it. The people of Gotham like you best when you speak from the heart."

"Thank you, Ed. Oh and Ed, speaking of which, what was it you wanted to tell me?"

Ed paused for a moment, opening his mouth to speak and then deciding against it at the last minute.

"No, never mind, it can wait," he said quickly, "What about you? What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh, same - it can wait." Oswald lied, managing a weak smile as Ed bustled off.

As soon as Ed left the room, Oswald pushed his balled-up fist against his forehead in self admonition. He had been so close to telling Ed the truth - it had been right there on the tip of his tongue - and yet now, with Butch on the run, in one instant everything had changed. Just last night he had gloried in the fact that they had all the time in the world to make "them" work as a concept. And now their window of time was gone. Now his ability to protect Ed was gone. Their relationship could only work if Oswald could keep Ed safe, and now he most certainly could not make that promise. Not for the first time, he thought of his parents and how he had been unable to protect them; to make matters worse, his mother's death had gone on unavenged and now it was the same people who had killed her making Oswald's life a living hell once more. Butch would have to be dispatched immediately, Tabitha too, for she was almost certainly the "unknown assailant". And if Barbara Kean knew what was good for her, she would accept Tabitha's death or she would have to go as well. After all, if he had taken over Fish Mooney's club, he could take over The Sirens if necessary. Maybe he could give it to Ed to run, Ed was good with numbers. And if anyone had a problem with that, well...

The thought suddenly made him weary - the endless line of people he would have to have killed. It seemed like there would always be someone standing in his way, and so another name would have to be added to his list, the mental tally he kept of people he had ordered to be killed or had killed himself. The list was beginning to grow so long he occasionally found himself forgetting people, wracking his brain to try and fill in the gaps between one kill and another, where another victim's name or face should have been and yet just was not coming to him. If keeping Edward Nygma safe meant killing everyone in Gotham, he would gladly do it. But what if all this killing was only for his own selfish happiness - what if all this killing was just so he could delight in being with Ed and didn't actually keep him safe? What if it actually put him into greater danger? Oswald thought of last night's party, how Ed had stepped in between him and Butch, willingly taking the brunt of Butch's unbelievable anger. Ed would do that again, Oswald knew, and while it warmed him to the core to acknowledge that fact, it also paralyzed him with fear. He couldn't let Ed do that. Not for him.

Death followed him, after all. Everyone he loved was taken away from him violently and his reactions had been just as swift and violent. He had reduced Theo Galavan to a smoking hole in the ground for the sake of his mother; he had hacked apart the Van Dahls to avenge his father. There would always be an endless parade of victims to haunt him - not just those he had slain, but those he had slain for - and the thought of it made him tremble for the first time since this entire journey had begun.

Oswald abruptly pushed the thought out of his head and fumbled quickly to begin a speech. He had to keep himself together, he had to be vigilant now that Butch was free. He would keep Gotham safe. He would keep Ed safe. But now he questioned if he would be able to love Ed at the same time.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ed had been ready to tell Oswald how he felt. So very ready. He had come to terms with it last night lying breathless on a stage and cemented it lying breathless in the mansion, trying to force his pulse to stop racing. He was ready for this - and he had a feeling Oswald was ready for it too. And yet the words had gone unspoken, left to follow him tensely for the rest of the day. He loosened his tie absent-mindedly as he made some last-minute phone calls to beef up security for the event and confirm guests, as if it were the tightness of the garment that was constricting him and not his own pent-up emotions. Nothing had changed and yet...everything had changed. In one news report his certainties about his future with Oswald had been destroyed, shattered in one fell swoop.

He ended his final phone call and sighed, thinking of Oswald's stubborn insistence to go ahead with the event despite the risk. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to Oswald during the event that he had planned - even more so if something happened without him getting the chance to confess his feelings. And yet, even with this knowledge, something kept his feet rooted in the hallway where he stood, still gripping the phone receiver until his knuckles turned white.

And then suddenly an eerily familiar voice cut through the silence.

"What's wrong, Eddie boy? Cat got your tongue?"

It took him a second to realize that the voice sounded familiar because it was his own voice. A spasm of horror gripped him as he spun around and came face-to-face with the other him, that darker version of himself that sometimes took over, that terrifying specter he thought had merged with him a long time ago.

"You! Why are you here? I thought you were me." Ed whispered, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

"Oh, I was." His dark twin tutted in response, eyes full of malice but tone dripping with jocularity, "We were one and the same for so long, you and me together, reunited and it felt so good!"

And then at once the levity dropped from his voice.

"And now we're here." he said, surveying the hallway, running his spectral fingers over wood surfaces and pursing his lips in disapproval, "Here in your boyfriend's mansion. He's driven a wedge between us, Edward. I thought you only loved me!" His twin wailed in fake distress before chuckling darkly.

"I don't understand..." Ed responded, looking around to make sure no one could see him talking to the empty space, "I thought you were the insane version of me. I'm still insane. So what are you doing walking around on the outside again?"

"Oh, Edward, Edward, Edward. You really don't know me at all, do you?" the other Ed laughed, "You are insane, there's no denying that. And Oswald's insane. And you'll probably both always be insane - one happy little murderously crazy married couple. The only thing keeping you two from being the head of the crazy people's PTA is a little unsuspecting tyke you can both fill with your poison. No, Edward, ya doll, I'm not the insane version of you..."

"What are you then?" Ed barked, forcing his voice not to go much louder, lest Oswald hear and come to check on him.

"I'm the version of you that actually takes ownership of his actions." the twin sneered.

"What are you talking about?" Ed's voice trembled once more, the words that came next more like an intonation of a comforting prayer than words he recognized, "You're the insane version of me. You were born because I became a killer and couldn't handle it. You're the one who took over after Miss Kringle died, you're the one who made me do the things I did."

"Oh, please!" the other him bellowed, "Oh, my sweet summer child, just listen to yourself. Do you hear how absurd you sound?"

Ed flinched as the twin's voice echoed through the empty halls of the mansion. It took him a second to remember that no one could hear this other version of him except himself.

"I didn't make you do anything," the other Ed continued, "Your actions were your own, brother. All of it...that was all you. I just had the balls to own it. Why do you think you checked out after you murdered Kristen? Because you were frightened? Because you were sad?" he chuckled again, "Wrong. You checked out because you didn't have the stones to own up to the fact that you had just murdered your girlfriend in cold blood. You never had the guts to admit any of it - how badly you wanted her, how badly you needed her to see you were the mastermind behind Dougherty's death. It was so much easier to hide behind me, wasn't it? And boy, I will tell you I was so proud of you when you when we finally merged. Taking control of your own actions it's just so...mmm...so sexy."

"So then why are you here now? Actions, owned. We shouldn't be having this conversation." Ed snapped.

This time, his twin did not laugh, but rather rounded on him like an animal stalking its pray, "Why am I here? Well because I have a bone to pick with you, Edward Nygma - Mister A-man-with-nothing-he-loves-is-a-free-man. And yet here you are, pathetically pinning over a tiny little man with tiny little umbrellas embroidered onto his shirt cuffs. Talk about hypocrisy."

"You're supposedly the side of me that owns up to my decisions, not the side that critiques my life choices." Ed glowered, his tongue working furiously in his cheek, "Besides, if you own it so much, why are you here bitching to me? I love Oswald, I freely admit that."

"Oh, but do you freely admit it, Eddie my boy? I don't think so. You were all ready to go in there and throw yourself at your new beau's feet and shout your love from the rooftops and yet..." the twin comically shrugged, "I don't hear any shouting. What happened? Oh, yeah, that's right. Butch is free and on the run, so now suddenly little Eddie isn't as brave and smart as he thought he was and now he's too afwaid to tell wittle Ozzie how he feels."

With this, he struck his phantom fist into his palm in frustration, "Oh, I can't believe you and I are two halves of the same coin! What did I ever do to get saddled with a sucker like you? We had it so together, man, you had it so together! You tried love and it failed, alright, fine - even I thought it was a good idea at the time. Although let's be honest, it wasn't just love that motivated me. But after it failed, you set off on such a good path. Kristen showed you who you really were - cold-blooded, a solo flyer. Everything that we went through...such pains to learn our lesson...and you're ruining it! And for what? For Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot? I mean, come on, who names their kid Chesterfield?"

"Yes! Yes, for Oswald!" Ed whispered furiously, "Because he makes me feel..."

"What?" the twin cut him off, voice rising in astonished indignation, "He makes you feel good? Makes you feel loved? Makes you feel special? The last person who made you feel special got dismembered for her troubles."

The twin cackled evilly, delighting in the grimace of pain and unbridled anger that flickered across Ed's face. He watched, paralyzed, as his double sauntered through the hall, picking up objects as he went and looking them over. At last, when Ed blinked, the twin was no longer standing before him, but was luxuriously stretching in the mirror.

"That's better," he sighed, adjusting his tie before levelling Ed with a glare, "Just remember, Eddie boy, there are things in this world more important than feeling special."

The twin cackled again from his place on the wall and reclined, enjoying the pained look that crossed Ed's face. But this time, unlike the others, something in Ed refused to be kowtowed.

"No." he said simply.

"Wait, maybe I heard that wrong. What do you mean 'No'?"

"Exactly what it sounds like, you slick son-of-a-bitch," Ed replied, a grin slowly creeping back to his face, "No, sometimes being made to feel special is the greater good. Sometimes there aren't more important things. Oswald makes me feel special. I won't apologize for it and I won't feel sorry about it. He makes me feel...everything. And if you have a problem with it, there's the door."

"Oh, Edward..." the twin tutted as if he were scolding a child, "The sun feels me, so does the moon. But the stars do not. I afflict the weak and the strong, the rich and the poor. You can feel me in an empty room or in the most crowded of places. Two destroys me, zero doesn't know me. The only number that can feel me is one. I am all-powerful, indivisible. What am I?"

"Loneliness," Ed immediately answered, "What of it?"

"Loneliness is bliss, brother. Being alone is the only way you're free. Be your own man, Edward."

Ed scoffed slightly, a grin lighting his face, "Now here's one for you. Riddle me this - If you drop me, I'm sure to crack. Give me a smile, and I'll always smile back. I make two people out of one. What am I?".

"A mirror," his twin answered automatically, before the light of recognition dawned on his face, "You wouldn't dare..."

"Oh ho ho, yes I would."

"Love has made you weak, Edward. Come with me, I can make you strong. I have made you strong. You wouldn't dare!"

"Yes I would. Because I'm the one in control, not you. I OWN YOU!" Ed bellowed and, in one swift movement, punched the mirror in front of him with all the force he could manage, delighting in the shocked look on the twin's face as he disappeared in a cascade of pulverized glass.

The deafening noise brought Ed back to earth with a jolt. He could see his hand was cut quite extraordinarily, blood running down his arm and quickly soaking through his shirt sleeve, but he hardly felt it. Instead he spun around in disbelief, searching for the twin, who always seemed to show back up even when he tried to dismiss him. But this time, there was no evil grimace, no dark eyes watching him from somewhere else in the room, no voice mocking him. He didn't need another version of himself to own his decisions. He owned them all now, the good and the bad.

"He's gone..." Ed whispered, his shock soon turning into euphoria, "I got rid of him. He's gone!"

He held his undamaged hand to his cheek in disbelief, laughing in quiet merriment until the pain in his dominant hand finally caught up with him and he staggered a step back, grasping the bloodied appendage in an attempt to stem the tide.

Within seconds, he heard the sound of Oswald's footfalls, the other man limping as quickly as he could to the hall where Ed stood.

"What happened?" he cried.

"I broke a mirror," Ed replied dumbly, shifting under the intensity of Oswald's gaze.

"Um, yes, I can see that." Oswald replied, his tone more than a tad confused until his eyes caught sight of Ed's bloodied hand, "Ed! Your hand!"

"Oh, uh, it's nothing..."

"It is most certainly not nothing. Come here."

Ed obediently stepped forward, presenting his cut hand to Oswald in silence. Oswald took it and gently examined the wound.

"You really did a number on this..." he mused to himself, looking upward with a glance that suggested he wanted to ask for more information but thought better of it, "Let me get something to patch this up, stay right here."

He disappeared in the direction of the kitchen for a moment and returned with a roll of bandages in his hand. Ed remained in the same position the entire time, allowing Oswald to fret and tut over the wound as he cleaned and bandaged it with care. Ed watched him without a word until at last he could no longer endure the silence.

"When two of me touch, they can smile or frown" he blurted out, "When I am parted from my mate, all things can pass through us. I can be touched, I can be bit, I can touch another person; but I cannot ever leave you. What am I?"

Oswald paused in his task and looked up in confusion as he usually did whenever Ed quoted a riddle. After a moment, Ed relented.

"It's lips. The answer is lips."

"What?"

"I've been thinking a lot about lips lately," Ed muttered, forcing himself to meet Oswald's eyes and not look lower, "Lips and mouths and...the things they can do."

"Um, sure...Okay..." was Oswald's only reply as he levelled Ed with another confused glance. After a moment, however, he seemed to shake his bewilderment off and turned back to his task, knotting the bandages off with a note of finality, "There. That's the best that I can do, but I really think you should go to the hospital." He said, his mouth forming into a hard frown as he rolled Ed's bloodied cuff back down.

"No, no, I'm fine. I'm alright. Really." Ed replied quickly, trying his best to sound convincing.

"Are you sure? Between this and your neck, I really think you ought to..."

"I appreciate your concern Oswald, really I do. But I'll be fine. Promise."

That seemed enough for Oswald, who shrugged slightly and stepped back, "Alright, but only if you're sure."

"I am sure, I am. Thank you." Ed said, smiling slightly as he spoke, "And now, I had really better change my suit if I'm to be ready for your event."

"Oh, you're not going with me." Oswald said, his face becoming a mask of confusion once more.

"What? Why?" Ed did his best to not look hurt.

"Ed, just look at yourself! You've been through hell these past twenty-four hours. You need to be resting, not running all over town! I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if anything happened to-" he cut off abruptly and took a marked step back before regaining his composure, "Well, let's just say I already have the kettle boiling for you and there's even another roll of bandages so you can change the dressings on your hand. And I'll be back by the end of the evening."

"Again, I appreciate your concern," Ed said, appraising his friend for a moment before beginning to bustle off to get ready, "But like I said before, I cannot afford to rest, especially not now. And don't worry, I will be entirely cleaned up and presentable by then. I can wear a glove to cover the bandages - and as for the neck bruises, I think it will be good for the public to see them. Show them the extent of what your regime is willing to go through to clean up the streets."

After a moment, Oswald shrugged, resigning himself to the will of his Chief of Staff, "Alright, but promise me you'll take it easy!"

"Yes, fine! But there are more pressing things to deal with, aren't there?" Ed called back as he hurried up the stairs towards the guest room where he was staying, the jaunt returned to his step.

As he moved around the room, changing his bloodied clothing and preparing for the work ahead, he couldn't help but smile at himself in the mirror. Mirrors used to horrify him with the thought that his other self might appear to mock or cajole him, but not anymore. This time he saw only himself. He adjusted his glasses and smiled as he looked into mirror above the dresser, feeling that he was almost at the end of his goal.

[A/N – I would just like to point out that Ed banishing his "twin" does not mean I am condoning his actions. I very strongly dislike the way the Kristen Kringle storyline played out on the show, but this is neither the time nor the place for that discussion. By having Ed's "twin" be the part that owns his actions, I hope I was adding a little context to Ed controlling his life – a big problem when the "twin" shows up – rather than excusing the problematic elements. Whew, anyway, that was very intense. Back to the Nygmobblepot! What angst awaits our boys in chapter three, the final chapter?]