Ed's presence doesn't change much of the routine that Oswald and Jerome have become accustomed to.
Oswald does his best not to let it.
He owes Jerome that much at least. He still clings to the clown like a leech, tagging along behind him during their day-to-day activities and occasionally slipping into his room with him when quiet hours finally come around. It's not as often as it was, and Oswald now feels a little awkward when he slinks away, catching Ed's nervous glance every time he veers off course to follow Jerome instead of going to his own room. Jerome doesn't touch him anymore though. Well, he touches him , but his roaming hands don't drift any lower than Oswald's chest or up to the middle of his thigh. He doesn't touch Oswald there anymore.
Oswald doesn't know if he should be upset about it or not, and decides to view it as a blessing in disguise, because at least he doesn't have to worry about Edward ever catching him in a walk of shame the next morning.
Jerome's been called away to attend some business when Edward finally gets the gall to question Oswald about it.
"Why do you stick to him like that?"
Oswald blinks, slowly chewing his cobb salad before setting down his fork. "Like what?"
"Like you're glued to him."
Oswald shrugs, staring down at his half eaten lunch. "He's safe," he says, and pokes at his food. "He makes me feel safe."
" Jerome Valeska makes you feel safe ?" Edward repeats, incredulous.
"It's difficult to explain..."
Edward looks like he wants to say more, maybe ask a another question, but Jerome's return is Oswald's saving grace.
Jerome slips back into his seat behind Oswald, wrapping a familiar arm around his waist and grinning at Edward over the Oswald's shoulder. "Guard's in. He'll drug the other guard's coffee and conveniently disappear to take a piss."
Oswald smiles gratefully, leaning back against Jerome's chest and taking up his fork once more. Edward gives him a curious look, but he doesn't say anything else.
Arkham has a new gardener who actually believes in his work. He takes great care of the courtyard and surrounding bushworks, and the place is looking much brighter. There are flowers growing up from brick planters and new strips of grass have been rolled out to replace a lot of the dirty gravel, leaving only enough for a looped trail around the yard. Most of the shriveled and dead plants (planted twigs really) that used to outline the courtyard have been dug up and replaced with new, stout green shrubs. It makes the outside look a little less like a prison and more like the mental health facility it was meant to be.
Of course, it's only the garden that's changed, the inside remains the same. The rest of Arkham is still dank and disheartening. It's still a prison.
Edward is walking the path with Oswald today, just the two of them. Jerome had made his opinion on 'pointless things like a flower garden' extremely clear and kept himself busied inside while the two of them went for a stroll. There's quite a few of the older patrons out today, marveling at the new foliage growing around them with expressions too awed by a few pretty petals to really be sane. They're all old, probably getting a bit senile, he suspects. In fact, Oswald and Edward seem to be the youngest inmates outside. Not that Oswald minds, he's always been more attuned with a more mature crowd anyway.
It's the older ladies that really get him-that remind him of his dearly departed mother in the best of ways.
"Oswald," Edward smiles, elbowing him lightly and pointing to a tiny flower bed beneath one of the windows, "look."
Oswald toddles over with a surprised gasp of breath. "White lilies..." he smiles, and quickly turns his head around to find that a stone bench has been placed in the path recently as well, within eyeshot of the lily bed even. "Ed, can we sit here for a moment?"
Ed's lip twitches up knowingly, "Of course, Oswald."
Edward lets Oswald take a seat first, needing the room to maneuver a little and account for his bad leg before there's a definite space for Ed to sit beside him. He smiles and settles in himself, giving Oswald a warm look as he watches the lilies blow gently in the breeze. "It's been a while since I just sat down somewhere just to look at nature," Oswald admits, "especially lilies."
"I was never really one for casual garden strolls." Edward comments, good-naturedly.
"My mother always taught me to appreciate the beauty around us," he says in reply, still smiling at the long white petals as they sway. "She was the kind of woman to dance when there was no music."
Edward hums. "I wish I could have met her."
"...Me too," Oswald says after a moment. "I'm sure I've said that before... that she would have liked you."
"I liked her statue."
"It didn't do her justice." Oswald smirks, chuckling lightly, "You can't portray her kind of compassion or kindness through a block of cement."
Edward let his head rest back, looking up at the sky contently, "You know, anytime I hear that song I remember singing with you."
Oswald blinked curiously up at him. "Is it often?"
"Hardly, but when it does happen I feel... very sad."
"...It's the same for me," he admits slowly, nodding, "but it's that stupid shade of green." He laughs when Ed looks insulted. "On anyone else it would look ghastly."
Edward's smile comes to life again, and Oswald feels lighter-warm. There's no tension between them in this moment, sitting among the courtyard garden and reminiscing about the good times they used to share. This serene feeling he gets from talking with Ed again reminds him of just how easy it was to fall in love with him in the first place…
With that bright and toothy smile curled up under his wide frames, shining in the sun's rays.
"This is nice," he offers, closing his eyes to really soak up the bit of sunlight poking through Gotham's ever present clouds. "I haven't come out to the courtyard in some time."
"Jerome doesn't ever go outside?"
Oswald decides not to question how Edward already knows that that's exactly why-because Jerome never went outside and Oswald only goes where Jerome goes-in favor of nodding his head. "Not his thing... I guess."
"You never came out here by yourself?"
Oswald shook his head quickly. "Not without him."
Edward frowns, peering cautiously over at Oswald as he asks, "Do you rely on him that much?"
"I trust him to keep me safe."
"That's not what I asked," Ed chides, but continues on anyway. "But you trust him?"
"To keep me safe." Oswald accentuates, "I don't know if I'd trust him in all of the areas of my life... We don't talk about my mother for one thing. I know what he did to his, and I doubt that he'd ever be able to understand the love I have for mine... but I definitely trust him with my safety. I trust that he won't let me get hurt."
"Why?"
Oswald exhales, wondering how he could possibly explain without having to tell Ed about everything that had gone down in the last few months. He kicks out his good leg, foot scraping along the gravel and making a satisfying patch of exposed dirt as his shoe swept away all the little rocks. "Do you remember the night we celebrated my election?" Oswald asks.
"Of course. Butch tried to shoot you and then he nearly strangled me."
"Because you always got in the way..." Oswald smiled, chortling at Ed's bluntness. "You were always doing stupid things like that for me. You upstaged him at every turn and you were always looking out for me; you had nothing but my best interests at heart."
Edward's eyes widen fractionally as he stares at Oswald, and when he starts to look guilty, Oswald imagines that's the moment he's reminded of all the afterword. Their fights, betrayals, Isabella , the way neither of them really wanted to push the other way, but felt they had to. Then when they were no longer friends at all, but enemies.
"I owed you," Ed says.
Oswald scoffs, "No you didn't."
Ed looks confused and Oswald rolls his eyes pointedly, "First you saved me from dying out in the woods, nursed me to health and became my only real friend. I don't have friends, Edward," he laughs bitterly. "Then you helped me get elected Mayor... and we did it honestly. You wouldn't let me cheat because you believed in me. Nobody believes in me."
Edward has his eyes planted in the lilies when Oswald speaks again, and Oswald pushes on in his attempt to ignore that observation, "If anything, Ed, I owed you."
"You got me out of Arkham."
"Easiest string I've ever pulled," Oswald grins, and Edward blinks down at him, surprised. "That was nothing but a gesture of friendship, in return for your own."
"I..." Edward gawks, mouth opening and closing rapidly before he schools himself. He looks so confused. "What does that have to do with Jerome?"
"It's a lot like that," Oswald says, "He... did something rather significant to solidify my trust in him. Like how you took Butch's rage for me."
"What did he do?" Edward asks, and it's a question Oswald really should have expected, but it still knocks the breath out of him.
He fiddles with his thumbs and frowns down at the upturned patch of gravel before deciding to sweep it all back into place again. "I think I'm ready to go back inside, Ed."
Edward doesn't smile, and he sits there, silent for only a moment before he nods politely and stands, offering Oswald his hand. "Good idea," he says, and adds with unsubtle bitterness, "Jerome will probably be waiting for you."
Oswald inclines his head and takes the offered hand. Before they can walk away however, Edward stops him and makes a quick dart for the little flower box. He plucks a single lily from the batch and carefully cradles it to his chest before returning to Oswald's side. He holds it out gently by the stem, and Oswald has a moment where his breath catches, realizing he's never been offered a flower before and wondering why that useless bit of trivia is suddenly something he's so fixated on before he gratefully reaches out to take it.
It's a meaningful thing between them, lilies-white especially. Oswald can't explain the tight coil it causes within his chest.
Edward smiles once, small but pleased, before turning and starting off towards the courtyard doors, slow enough that Oswald doesn't have to straggle along behind him. He spends the moments between their bench and the door trying to decipher just what Edward's floral gift was supposed to mean...
It's early during the lunch period when Oswald notices Edward chatting with the person in front of his position in line. He looks to be accosting the other inmate, brows furrowed and lips downturned in a frown. There's a moment where his eyes widen though, and Oswald watches it curiously. His lips open and close helplessly and Edward's tray goes crashing to the floor. It's confusing to say the least, and Oswald wonders what they'd said to him to make him react that way.
He wants to know so he can try it again later.
Once Edward has a new tray, fills it up and takes a seat across from them at their regular table, Oswald notices that Ed can't seem to meet his eyes. "Ed?" he asks cautiously, mindful of what had happened in line, "Is something the matter?"
He stabs at his food without and answer, and even Jerome seems a little intrigued, "What's eatin' you, Riddle Man?"
"...There was a serial rapist here not too long ago?" Edward asks, still glaring at his salad as he says it.
Oswald stiffens, startled and suddenly feeling just a little nauseous. He doesn't want Edward to know about this; he doesn't want to be made fun of or looked down on. He was weak and-
"He cut out their eyes?"
Jerome's hand slips over Oswald's upper thigh, offering something close to a caress in an attempt to stifle his obvious nerves.
That's right. Jerome is there. He's safely tucked in Jerome's arms and nothing can hurt him here. He's safe. He's safe here. As long as he stays right here he can't be hurt.
Oswald tries to relax back against Jerome's chest, but it's a little forced. His eyes lower as he tries to let it go, to remember that he's alright-as long as he sticks to Jerome.
"Fucker's dead now," Jerome mutters spitefully, "who cares?"
Edward frowns, "...Did you kill him?"
He scowls, "Cut his fucking dick off ."
Edward is watching Oswald with hawk-like eyes, worried and rough as he carefully starts to ask, "...Were you-?"
"No," Oswald says quickly, almost defensive, "Jerome... he- he..."
Understanding flickers across Edward's face as he looks between Oswald and Jerome with a new light, almost as if he could actually get it, could actually understand their weird connection to one another. Oswald doesn't even totally get it and he's the other half of it. He wonders if all of Edward's snooping has been for this; figuring out whatever it is between him and Jerome. It feels like he's turning them into a puzzle, putting together the pieces until he gets the answer he's looking for, and Oswald isn't sure how he feels about it.
"Good," Edward says instead of anything else, Oswald can't hide how stunned he is.
Edward silently inclines his head towards Jerome and before Oswald can fully grasp what's happening Jerome snorts and dramatically returns the gesture with a flick of his hand and a slight, near mocking, bow. His smile isn't malicious though, Oswald notices. There's some sort of unspoken settlement between them, and it only serves to leave Oswald that much more confused.
Ed isn't mocking Oswald. He's not even really talking about it so much as asking out of concern. Oswald wants to ask more questions, wants to know what Edward really thinks about it, but he doesn't want to upset the fragile balance here, so they eat the rest of their meal in relative silence.
Oswald can wait it out.
Edward becomes strangely tender towards Oswald after that. It would be sweet, maybe even appreciated if it didn't just irritate Oswald so much. He's not that fragile. Oswald doesn't need pity from Edward and he certainly doesn't need to be tiptoed around like he'll crack under any sort of pressure. He's lying in bed beside Jerome when he tells him about how it makes him feel. He wants to tell Edward to stop pitying him, that whatever he assumed happened-and let the record state, it didn't -he needs to just let it go and let Oswald be.
Jerome hesitantly chides him with a crude joke and reminds him that it's always good to have an extra ally in a place like Arkham. It's never a bad thing to have someone looking out for you. You never know when you'll need that extra hand and some added protection shouldn't ever be turned down, "-even from Riddle man."
"I don't need another protector. I have y-" Oswald stops himself, but it's too late. Jerome is grinning at him with a mile wide smile when he finally looks up.
He leans over to kiss Oswald and Oswald lets him, not realizing just how much he missed this, the kissing and the tender touches, until he's had it again. The two of them hadn't really spent any time doing much of anything since Ed had arrived. Oswald had genuinely missed the intimacy.
They kissed and rutted against one another until Oswald came quickly undone, fisting the sleeves of Jerome's jumpsuit desperately as he climaxed. He watched through lidded eyes as Jerome finished himself off on Oswald's hip, that large grin still stretched wide across his face.
Jerome pulled him against his side afterword without a sound, reinstating the gentle form of intimate silence they had built up to over months of lying around post-orgasm, and Oswald felt comfortable in his skin once again. Regardless of the sticky mess between them….
There was something about being away from Jerome that just made him feel so vulnerable and weak; like he was in constant danger and always needed to be on high alert. When Jerome was there he was fine, he was safe. So he needed to stay by Jerome's side, to stay safe and happy, he needed to stay right here.
Jerome is purposefully more handsy the next day at breakfast, and Oswald assumes it's because the night before had been almost like giving him a green light. His hands drift all over Oswald's chest as they eat, sometimes slipping down over his legs to give a light squeeze. At one point he goes so far as to cup Oswald through his jumpsuit and make him squeak.
Edward huffs, finally setting his spoon aside to sneer at Jerome, "You know, you don't have to do that."
"Oh, but I want to," Jerome quips with a devilishly cocky grin, tightening his hand around Oswald's waist just that much more in defiance.
"Isn't it embarrassing?" Edward asks Oswald, looking like he wholeheartedly expects Oswald to back him up.
Oswald blushes, but decides to shoot an unimpressed look back at Edward as he stabs a forkful of his omelette. If Jerome wants it, and Oswald doesn't really mind it as much as he should, he won't apologize for it. "To have someone enjoy touching me? Not really." He takes a bite of his food and then shyly adds, looking down at his tray, "It's kind of nice to be appreciated."
"By groping ?"
"By being openly wanted," he shoots back bitterly, knowing it's a low blow-that Edward probably does regret how he rejected Oswald-but unable to help himself.
Jerome is fucking preening, and Edward sulks.
Edward starts 'making friends' (as he calls it) with some of the other patients at Arkham. He's almost got a little clique formed within the first week of it and he uses them to get what he wants. Be it pride or just for stubbornness' sake, Edward has never asked Jerome for the same food privileges he and Oswald have. Sometimes he catches Ed eyeing something Oswald's got on his plate and he's occasionally willing to share, but any time he offers, Edward politely declines with a raise of his hand and a headshake.
It's probably pride, Oswald decides.
His new friends help him though, and eventually Edward figures out how to secure what he wants for himself without Jerome's help.
Oswald finds himself grinning one afternoon as he spies Edward convincing Helzinger (the large brute with a brain the size of a pea) to take his bland, mushy vegetables in exchange for an extra jello cup.
Jerome may snort at it, but Oswald is admittedly impressed to see how quickly he's gained the little following of 'friends' he has and how well he takes advantage of it. He's been able to subtly unriddle people based on what they like, need, or want and it's too impressive to downplay. Oswald would never have been able to do it. He's never been able to figure people out quite like Edward can. He can't predict their actions quite the same, and he wouldn't even bother trying to do it like Ed could.
"How did you do that?" he asks once Edward comes to join them, bland green beans gone and a shiny jello cup in place of it.
"Man's got a parental approval complex." Ed stated, "I told him that his mother would want him to be a big and strong boy- but it would mean he needs to eat more vegetables."
"So you offered to trade your green beans for his jello?" Oswald asks, impressed.
Edward smirks, "He begged me to give him my green beans and to take away his unhealthy jello. So now, I have jello, I've gotten rid of my frightfully disgusting canned beans and gained a grateful favor from the man built like a brick house. Three birds, one stone."
Oswald is undeniably impressed.
"That's amazing. How did you get your people to follow you?" Oswald asks Jerome curiously, realizing he honestly never wondered before.
"I killed a man my first day and threatened anyone who didn't swear their undying loyalty to me." he replies simply, and Oswald... is just a little less impressed.
"Oh."
Jerome frowns, opening an eye to look at him like Oswald has just personally offended him.
Edward grins from his seat across the table, smirking cockily at Jerome while the man huffs dejectedly and glares at his food.
At the next meal, Jerome is called away by one of his many followers, this particular one being a thin and twitchy man with hair frizzed out in all directions. He whispers something into Jerome's ear and Jerome grins in reply. Oswald, able to pick up something about a package (the man's whispers weren't exactly soft), looks up at him curiously.
"That'll be the phone," he smiles, starting to rise from his seat.
He stops halfway though, leaning over to peck a quick kiss near Oswald's brow and giggling after he pulls away.
Edward watches the entire affair with a look of irritated puzzlement. He doesn't say anything though, and he's content to quietly work on his food until Jerome leaves.
"When did you start with the kissing?" Ed asks hesitantly, once Jerome is out of hearing range, "I noticed that you... thank him? that way."
"Long time ago," Oswald says in reply. "Sorry, if it might seem weird. I got so used to it, I guess I don't even think about it anymore."
Ed frowns, "But you don't have to do it?"
Oswald pauses mid bite, chews the last of it with an excruciating slowness, then shrugs, "I suppose I don't."
"But you're still going to..."
Oswald already knows he'll always say yes, he'll always want to thank Jerome for what he does. "Yes, I probably will."
"Cell phone," Jerome calls as he re-enters the conversation, handing the phone to Oswald when he gets up to receive it.
Oswald smiles, gives a brief thanks, and calls Zsasz. It's a move done more on instinct than anything else, his right hand man is always the first he calls. He tells Victor only what's necessary-that he'll be escaping with the help of Jerome and company of Edward, that they'll need a ride -and ignores his many questions about just how Oswald has come to gain either of their favors. Oswald trusts Zsasz to a certain extent, he's a good right hand man and an even better assassin, but they're not exactly companions. Victor certainly doesn't need to know any of the details here.
Oswald tells him not to worry, hangs up with a curt goodbye and when he returns, thanks Jerome like he knows best, with a chaste and grateful kiss to the cheek.
Jerome smirks at Edward afterword, slipping the phone away as Ed narrows his eyes in a silent challenge. Oswald has definitely picked up on the animosity between them lately, he'd be an idiot not to, but he doesn't let himself actually believe that their rivalry is all over him. After all, why would they be fighting over someone like Oswald?
If either of the boys notice Oswald's heavy sigh as he lifts his cup for a drink, they don't say anything.