[A/N - Hello again! This is the third and final chapter of this fic, but I have a feeling that Nygmobblepot is going to strong-arm me into writing more fic for them. I just can't help myself. And, if you need someone to scream with about all of your Nygmobblepot feels, find me on tumblr! My username is the same as it is here. Love to you all! And now, without further ado, let's see what happens to our boys in this chapter. Thanks for reading!]

Chapter Three - The Same Mistake

The event had originally been planned as an outdoor affair, but with Butch on the lamb Ed had made the necessary adjustments to get it moved inside. It was now located inside the glistening ballroom of Gotham's oldest hotel. For something that had been put together in approximately twelve hours, it was a grand affair to be sure, filled with socialites milling about and drinks being dispensed and, most importantly, flanked all around with legions of hulking figures serving as bodyguards. As both Oswald and Ed entered the space, the new mayor's eyes went wide as he looked around him. Over and over again his eyes came to the armed security that was staged throughout the facility.

"They're all people who have a beef against Butch as well," Ed explained with a smile, "I figured the best people to protect you from Butch are people whose vendetta against him is just as great as ours."

"That's very clever, Ed..." Oswald replied, still open-mouthed with shock as he moved through the room.

His shock only increased as people stopped him, thanking him for what he had done to help the city already and asking to shake his hand in respect. As he moved through the crowd, he kept looking back to see if Ed was behind him; sure enough, Ed was there each time, beaming back at him in what seemed to be pride at how much the people loved his boss.

"But this isn't fair..." Oswald said at last as they arrived in front of the podium where he would deliver his speech, "This isn't fair at all. You took the brunt of it, I only did what I did to save you. You should be recognized for your contributions too, Ed."

Ed merely chuckled, "Don't worry about it. It's you they want to see, not me. This is your moment."

"I can't accept that. I'm going to make sure you get some recognition, I promise."

"Oswald, you should know the first rule of politics by now - don't make promises you can't keep," Ed jokingly admonished, "Now get out there and give the people what they want."

As Ed ushered him up to the stage amid thunderous applause, Oswald made sure he could see Ed in the midst of the deep crowd. Sure enough, there he was, standing well above the sea of heads, watching Oswald with a confident smile as if to reassure him that all would go smoothly. Looking at Ed standing there made it so much harder for Oswald to tell what was in store for them when logically he knew that his love for this man might endanger them both and yet emotionally he knew it made him so much stronger. Taking a deep breath, he chose to draw from that strength as he plowed on.

"People of Gotham..." he began as a hush fell over the crowd, "Before I begin our conversation about this evening and all the evenings going forward, I would like to look back at the very public events that happened last night at The Sirens nightclub. Since that incident, I have heard many people herald my actions as heroic. But I want to take this opportunity to point out the actions of someone far more heroic than myself, the man who stepped in front of me to prevent me from coming to harm during that attack. And that would be my Chief of Staff, Edward Nygma, without whom I would be totally and completely lost," he gestured out to Ed, who adjusted his glasses with a smile somewhere in between self-conscious and deeply moved, "You can see he still bears the wound from that attack and yet he is here tonight by my side. I only hope all of you have someone in your life that's even half as loyal as Mister Nygma. So, if you'll please raise your glasses in toast to him."

He took a glass from a nearby waiter and lead the toast himself, raising the glass high in Ed's direction. Ed merely smiled and held out his hands in gratitude, both to the assembled throng and to Oswald. When the toast was finished, he continued on,

"As I'm sure all of you know by now, Butch Gilzean, leader of the Red Hood Gang, has escaped police custody. Now, you may notice the extra security here tonight," he gestured around them, "I am dedicated to your safety and the safety of your families. And I want you to know that, no matter where you go in Gotham, I want to be able to personally guarantee that you will be safe. Because a crime committed against one of us is a crime committed against all of us. And during my time as mayor, a crime against any one of us will not be tolerated. Together we will make Gotham safe again, from this night moving forward. And we will not be afraid to make the hard choices in order to see that everyone feels at home in their own city. Thank you."

As soon as the last syllable of his speech had been delivered, the crowd around Oswald erupted into cheers. But he only cared to be judged by one person in the room. His gaze swiveled to Ed once more, who nodded his approval with a smile, allowing Oswald to feel that it had all, therefore, been worth it. Only then did he allow himself to look around the rest of the assembled throng, waving and taking in faces and basking in the glow. And then one face stopped him in his tracks. Was that...was that Grace Van Dahl staring back at him?

No, of course not - she was extremely dead. Oswald had made sure of that. There was no possible way she could be here, and yet she was there...and then she wasn't. Next time he blinked, she was gone, evaporating like smoke as quickly as she had come. Oswald forced himself not to panic even as fear seized him - after all, there were still dozens of pairs of eyes watching him - so he forced another smile and found Ed in the crowd once more. Ed appeared to be the only one who could see the change, his eyes narrowing in confusion and surprise. As he dismounted the stage, he made his way through the crowd of well-wishers and supporters, making his way to where Ed stood.

"What's the matter?" Ed asked him in a hushed tone immediately.

"Nothing...nothing, old friend. Everything is fine." Oswald lied in response, aware that the other man would easily be able to see through his deception.

But Ed said nothing, merely eyed Oswald suspiciously as the event went on. Oswald did his best to stand patiently for photos and listen with interest and understanding to the concerns of the assembled citizens. But at the periphery of his vision continued to swim an assortment of faces he had dispatched long ago. They were hallucinations, of course - tricks of his mind thanks to stress or lack of sleep - and yet they were real enough to cause him so deep and complete a terror that he thought he would drown inside of it. He could always tell they were one of his victims - even if he had otherwise forgotten their faces or names (if he even knew their names in the first place) - because they stood resolutely in the crowd, staring him down with cold dead eyes, almost dully pearlescent in their glaring. That man there was a victim, but which one? The first one. The fisherman he had murdered after surviving his hellish, freezing night in the river. Why had he murdered that man? He easily could have asked for help and probably would have gotten it...and yet in his exhaustion, his hunger, his desperation, he had grabbed a knife and slashed.

And what about the two boys who had picked him up in their car? They stood side by side, gazing back at him now. Their crime was calling him a penguin, something he openly called himself now. Why had they died other than the fact that he wanted them to? And there was Janice Caulfield. And there were Sasha and Charles Van Dahl. And the list went on and on, glinting eyes, dark sneers, the same terror seizing through him at seeing each of them.

He was a fool to think he could have it all, let alone that he deserved it all. All the days of his life he tried to honor his mother, as if he was still that little boy getting rocked to sleep at night with Gertrude's insistence that he was a handsome, clever, special boy. But he was not that little boy anymore. He was a killer. He was insane. These people may be fooled, but he was unable to fool himself anymore that he would be anything more than a criminal wearing a political mask. Until the day he died he would be haunted by the souls of those he had slaughtered and they would never give him rest, especially not now that he was mayor, an office he had only risen to because he had so ruthlessly spilled blood in his wake.

He had been selfish. At first, feeling the first rush of love for Edward Nygma had erased his doubts, his fears, made him feel unstoppable and equipped to deal with everything; but it had also brought up the agony of remembering Michael. And now it brought back the memories of all those he had damned. But why?

He realized with a jolt it was because loving Ed was also selfish. He wanted to be with Ed so badly that it made him dizzy to think about for too long - and yet how could he do that when the mayor dating his Chief of Staff would bring Ed under intense scrutiny at best and could very well kill him at worst? There were already unfriendly newspapers scattered throughout the city who still referred to Oswald as "a criminal and former Arkham patient" in the same breath as "mayor" who would have a field day over Ed if they were given a reason to dig into his past - and if newspapers had the power to make Ed's life a living hell thanks to Oswald loving him, he couldn't even imagine what his enemies could do to Ed in an effort to control the new mayor's actions.

Know thy self, Oswald, he admonished himself silently, Danger surrounds you everywhere you go...and all you manage to do is get the ones you love killed.

That's why these specters were following him this evening of all evenings - they were here to remind him how pairbonded he was to death and danger...and that perhaps those relationships would be the only lasting ones in his life.

He forced himself to be steady as he detangled himself from a crowd and sought out Ed, who was standing in the middle of the room, his gaze oscillating back and forth on a constant prowl for trouble.

"Ed?" Oswald asked shakily, "Do you think we've been here long enough? I'd like to go if we can."

"Yes, of course we can go, but what's wrong?" A note of panic crept into Ed's voice, "You haven't seen something, have you?"

"No, no...at least, not in the way you're thinking," he shuffled awkwardly, "The security is doing a great job and I want everyone to be able to stay for as long as they want, but I would like to go."

Ed nodded and, using his height to his advantage, steered Oswald out of the room as inconspicuously as possible, flanked by several guards as they went. As they walked, Oswald could feel himself clenching up in unspeakable anxiety, his heartbeat throbbing in his head with such great pain that he thought it would make him vomit. Even worse than the endless line of ghosts was the fact that tonight confirmed the thing he had begun to realize with great dread but hadn't wanted to acknowledge - that being mayor meant he and Ed could not be together after all.

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

Ed knew something had been bothering Oswald since the moment he finished his speech; he could pinpoint the exact moment his friend had faltered, frightened either by some real threat or some hidden personal demon. He spent the entire car ride home in tense, uneasy silence, wanting desperately to comfort Oswald - something that was impossible, since the other man refused to say exactly what it was that was bothering him. When at last they arrived at the mansion and were alone in the privacy of the vast house, Ed broke the silence.

"I wish you'd tell me what's wrong..." he said, voice rising slightly in bewildered frustration.

"Nothing's wrong. I think tonight went fine," Oswald muttered in reply as he put away his coat almost mechanically. His voice sounded forced, differential, as if he was only speaking now because he had to.

"Tonight may have been fine, but you're not," Ed responded, following behind Oswald as he left the foyer and entered into the house's massive living room, "What aren't you telling me, Oswald?"

At last Oswald spun around, drawing in closer to Ed.

"What do you want me to say, Ed?" he snapped, "That I'm the city's hero? That I'm the only one who could possibly get rid of the monsters? That everyone loves me? Because it's all bullshit!"

"I don't understand..." Ed stammered in reply, hearing with surprise that his voice betrayed both confusion and perhaps a little bit of pain.

Oswald clicked his tongue in disbelief and shook his head, as if he too was trying to conceal the pain he felt.

"Oh, Ed, don't you see? I'm a fraud!" he cried, "I can't keep Gotham safe! I can't even protect the only person in the city who matters to me."

At once, a lump formed in Ed's throat, threatening to choke him.

"What are you talking about?" he asked meekly, trying for some inexplicable reason to play coy. Oswald levelled him with a glare that suggested the time for such an act was over.

"If I can't protect you...what's the point?" Oswald whispered at last.

"Oswald, don't worry about me. I'm safe. I'll be fine. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," was all the mayor could muster in response, tears choking out his voice.

"But don't you see what we accomplished tonight? We have allies. We have people who will protect us and all we need to give them in return is a little bit of power...and that's the one thing you have in abundance now. They'll do anything for us."

"You don't understand..." Oswald replied, his voice thick with pain, "There is no us, Ed. There can never be an us. It's too dangerous...and I should never have involved you in the first place."

"But I am involved now, Oswald, and-"

"And I'm putting a stop to it," Oswald cut in, "You can't be a part of this anymore, Ed. You have to go."

"What?" Ed practically shrieked, staring at his friend in disbelief, "How can you say that? After everything we've done for each other-"

"I know." Oswald interrupted again, holding up his hand as if Ed going any further would break him, "I know. You've done more for me than anyone in a long time. And I'll always be grateful for that. But I have to let you go, Edward Nygma...I can't be selfish anymore."

Ed levelled the man in front of him with a hard stare, his eyes blurring with tears he wished desperately would not come.

"I think you're happier being around me, Oswald. And I don't think it's selfish to want to be happy. You deserve it."

"Do I though?" Oswald barked, pacing around the room in agitation, his eyes never once leaving Ed's, "I'm a killer, Ed. I'm a mass murderer. I've killed over a dozen people. I've killed so many people that sometimes I forget the exact number. Some of their faces have actually started to blur together. Sometimes I forget why I even killed them in the first place. I've killed so many people...tell me how someone like me is ever deserving of happiness. I'm a monster."

The tears that had been present in Oswald's voice rolled down his cheeks now as he continued.

"And I realized something today, Ed. I realized I would kill everyone in Gotham if it meant keeping you safe. I'd even kill myself if that's what it took. And I'd be glad to. But last night also proved you'd do the same thing for me. And I don't deserve such a sacrifice. I shouldn't be allowed to put you in harm's way just so I can be happy. Which is why I have to let you go."

It was hard for Ed to remember that just a few hours hence he had felt so euphoric, so full of joy that he was free of his boorish twin and could now tell Oswald what he felt. This feeling was like a knife to the chest, like his life force was being drained from his body, leaving only an empty hollow shell. How could he leave this man now, after everything they had been through? After Ed had finally come to terms with how he truly felt - and come to terms with the fact that it seemed Oswald felt the same way. No, he couldn't leave him, and he couldn't wait any longer to tell his friend the true extent of his feelings.

"But I love you..." he whispered, "And it costs me nothing to say it, Oswald."

"Doesn't it, though, Ed?" Oswald wept, "Because it costs me everything. And I think if you really looked, you'd realize it costs you too."

"Don't you think you should let me determine that for myself?" Ed begged.

"No, no I can't. Because I know you'll want to stay. And I know you'll tell me you can handle yourself and be safe, but you can't make that promise, Ed. Because you don't know if you'll be safe, not really. And I need you to be safe."

They both paused for a moment, Oswald turning his face away in an effort to keep some dignity, Ed gripping the edges of a nearby chair. He felt feverish with emotion, so overwhelmed and choked by sorrow that he thought he would stop breathing right there on the spot. But he rallied himself and plowed on, knowing it was his turn to be heard.

"You think you're the only monster? They aren't going to call my name in Heaven, Oswald," he said, breaking the silence, watching as Oswald lifted his head slowly towards the direction of his voice, "I know that. And I know my hell is going to be me being parted from you for all eternity. Don't make that be what I experience on Earth, too."

"But at least you'll be alive."

"Yes, but what sort of life will that be - both of us with broken hearts?"

"I'd rather your heart be broken than your neck, Ed." Oswald rasped, touching a hand very gently to the purple bruises that still lived on Ed's throat.

"No, no, I refuse to believe that," he replied, catching hold of Oswald's wrist and holding it firmly as if to keep this man here in front of him for all time, "I refuse to believe that that's how you want to live. There is something real between us, Oswald. Please..."

"I thought you said love was a weakness for men like us. I thought you said we were better off unencumbered."

"I did..." Ed said haltingly, "And I was wrong. I used to think that love was like a poison that set in and paralyzed all the instincts a person needed to survive. And after all that I had gone through I thought the only way to be free from pain and fear and certain death was to shake off the shackles of love and be alone forever. But that's not true. I believe now the only way either of us will be safe...is if we're together."

"No, no, not now that I'm mayor. Now that I'm mayor, it's too dangerous for me to have something I care about. You were right all those months ago when you said a man with nothing he loves cannot be bargained or betrayed. I can't afford to be bargained now. And I just can't be betrayed again..." he said, although the catch in his voice when he spoke of betrayal seemed a lot more personal than just his betrayal by Butch.

A silence like death set in following Oswald's words as they both stood paralyzed in front of each other. The only movement Ed could bring himself to make was to stroke Oswald's hand as if he was trying to keep it warm. Tears stung his eyes so brutally that he couldn't see the long slender fingers he was touching, so he memorized them by how they felt in his hand. He bit his lip to keep from crying out and breathed against the lump in his throat that had grown larger by the second.

"So that's it then?" he croaked, "Is this how it ends for us?"

Oswald nodded feebly as he silently wept and ever so gently pulled his hand from Ed's grasp. Ed's hand felt empty and incomplete without it.

"Yes. Yes, Ed. Please just go. It will get better with time. Trust me, I know."

As Oswald turned to walk away, Ed suddenly found that his voice had returned to him and he sucked in a breath in deep surprise.

"I have just one more thing I need to ask from you, Oswald," he said resolutely, "Just one more thing and then I promise I'll leave."

Oswald was silent, but turned to face him and blinked in the dim light of the room. Ed took that as acceptance and plowed on.

"I need to hear it."

"Hear what?" Oswald whispered, tensing up.

"You know what."

"What do you want from me, Ed?" Oswald replied, but his voice was not nearly as angry as it was deeply sad, "You already know how I feel about you. Do you really need to hear it out loud?"

"Yes! I want to hear it! I'm telling you, I need to hear it!"

Oswald took a step back, as if caught slightly off-guard by Ed's boldness, and tried desperately to wipe the tears from his eyes, but they were only replaced by more. He sniffed hard in an effort to stem them, laughing a little as if laughing at himself.

"This is not how I wanted this to go at all..." he lamented and sniffed again, trying to steady himself.

"I know..." Ed whispered.

At long last, Oswald levelled him with a soft stare, a look that communicated both love and fear.

"I love you, Ed Nygma..." he said, and his voice sounded surprisingly steady for a man who seemed so terrified, "I love you more deeply and completely than I thought was possible. I love you so much that just thinking about being with you fills me with joy and makes me feel...safe. And, truth be told, I don't want to stop being around you. Not ever."

It was like all the tension had been released from Ed's shoulders, like he had been walking hunched over for his entire life and suddenly was standing up straight. With the breath that had been restored to his body, he quipped,

"I cannot be smashed, but I can be broken. You can speak from me, yet I have never spoken. A harsh word can destroy me, a gentle touch can restore. I cannot be seen but I cannot be ignored. I can beat, but can't be beaten. I can be poured out and never depleted. What am I?"

Much to Ed's great shock, this riddle was not met with disdain or confusion, but a tearful smile.

"The heart..." Oswald said, tears springing up anew, but these tears seemed to be happier tears than the last, "Please stay, Ed. Please don't go. Please don't ever go."

Ed took a step forward and cupped Oswald's face in his hands.

"Tonight your demons got the better of you," he whispered, "But they don't have to control you. They don't have to define you. We can fight them...together. I'll always be here for you. No matter what. I'll always be here."

Oswald put a hand to Ed's hand like a man in a dream.

"What do we do now?" he asked, his voice shaky and rusty as though it hadn't been used in days.

"I don't know..." Ed admitted, although he had a few ideas, "I would never want to push you to be in a relationship with me if you weren't comfortable with it. I can't be selfish either. It's enough to know you love me; if you want to, we can go back to being just the mayor and Chief of Staff."

"No!" Oswald hastily replied, "I mean...we'll still be that, of course. But...I do want to be something more. I want that so badly. If you can think we can make it work."

"I think we can, Oswald."

"So then...I suppose what you do now is...kiss me." Oswald murmured.

"Yes...yes, you're right. I believe it is," Ed whispered, drawing himself very close to Oswald and getting ready to bend his head to meet him, "Oh, and by the way, Oswald? Last night was a mistake - I mean, you really should have kissed me in front of that fire."

"Well I won't make the same mistake again." Oswald said, a smile creeping onto his lips as he leaned up and Ed leaned down.

It was on that smile that Ed finally got to kiss him. Automatically, his hands went to Oswald's back, pulling the shorter man closer; Oswald allowed himself to be dragged, wrapping his hands around Ed's waist to steady himself. It was the most tender kiss Ed had ever experienced or could ever imagine and, like the world around him had become devoid of time, it seemed to last for an eternity. It seemed like entire planets could have be born and died in the time they kissed, even though he knew logically that it had only been a few seconds - a few small seconds to herald in so many more seconds, minutes, hours, days...

When they did separate at last, each moving back into their natural positions, Oswald blinked at him for several moments in blissful disbelief.

"I wonder if you know how much you've saved me..." he whispered like a man in awe.

"We've both saved each other, I think," Ed replied, "Maybe, if we don't ever do anything good in our lives, perhaps we can at least say that."

But any other words would have to remain unspoken for now, as he pulled Oswald Cobblepot in for another kiss.