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iv-kplpt · 7 years

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you steal the air out of my lungs

plot summary: au for charlie and oswald inspired by my fav movie - “red eye”. loosely inspired. she falls for a handsome friend of a friend. he turns out to be not who he claimed to be. she’s conflicted. there is some Sad involved. also, a man dies - actually, make that 2. basically i built another au with a lot of potential. i always wanted a batman universe without the batman. will be put on ao3 along with the collegeverse as soon as i write some more weird aus.

10k words. no explicit violence or sex. skyler hill belongs to @alan-of-all-trades and louise still belongs to my babe. thanks for letting me use them, i love you guys.

At first it was just a blind date.

It all began about three months earlier, when her friend set her up on a casual date with someone. Charlie had moved to Gotham about six months earlier, because her parents - renowned hotel owners, behind family-owned Crowne Continental suggested a change of surroundings might help her. They wanted to try and branch out a bit, and Charlie was tasked with overseeing Crowne Continental's first branch outside of New York.

Being a resolute person, she quickly found some friends in Gotham to hang out with during rare free evenings - a lawyer, two journalists and a secretary, all young, elegand and succesful; and in relationships. She actually befriended two couples - and they were absolutely wonderful, helpful and welcoming when needed and snarky at other times; but their pet names and lovestruck gazes felt a bit like salt to the wound of her own loneliness.

She was not on good terms with her ex-husband. Their - quick and ugly - divorce left her feeling scarred and disillusioned; but at the same time, she missed and craved the emotional intimacy of a relationship, the pet names, the feelings, the physical aspect. She missed being in love and she missed the feeling of someone being in love with her.

(She knew the world is not a loveless place. She still had people around to remind her of this fact.)

So when Louise - her lawyer friend, who was actually an assistant district attorney, working under Harvey Dent - offered to hook her up with a friend of hers Charlie didn't really mind.

"He's a decent guy." she assured her, when they were sitting in their favorite café, drinking iced lattes. "He's kind of... Obnoxious at times, but he's an old friend. He's a charmer, really."

"Alright, let's say I'm in. Is he handsome?"

"That depends on your definition of handsome, sugar. He's definitely not my type."

"Well, what does he look like?"

"Like an asshole." Louise replied instantly, laughing quietly. "Sorry. Me and Tommy, we go way back and after some time this became my default way of describing him. He's... Tall. Black hair, grey eyes... Kinda slim. I'm sure he's handsome in eyes of people who like the bad boy type, because that's his main aesthetic. And he's very committed to it. He's great at pretentious dishevelment."

"Did you just quote Robert Pattinson?"

"Maybe." Louise replied nonchalantly, taking another sip of her coffee. "But how would you know this in a first place? Been watching some interviews, Charlie?"

"I liked Twilight for some time." Charlie confessed. "I was totally Team Edward."

"Fuck, seriously? We're no longer friends, I was Team Jacob. But I guess... You might like Tommy, considering your shitty taste in men." Louise said with a smirk and Charlie groaned, almost regretting mentioning that in the first place.

"So, are you up for it?"

"Alright." Charlie agreed more enthusiastically than she planned to. "Set us up on a date. Just... Don't make it a coffee date. I'm starting to get sick at the thought of bean juice."

"Oh, you high maintenance minx." Louise sighed dramatically. "Fine. No coffee. It's a good thing he prefers tea anyway. When are you free?"

"I have a slow afternoon tomorrow."

"Perfect."

She took out her phone and - not taking her eyes off Charlie's amused face - called someone.

"Hey asshole." she said after a moment. "Are you free tomorrow? She said yes. What? Oh, sure. Hey Charlie, any location preferences?"

"Somewhere near Crowne would be perfect, I have a meeting in the evening-"

"You heard her, somewhere near Crowne. Mmmhmmm. Yeah. Sure. Don't be late. Fuck off. Bye!"

She hung up and smiled cheerfully.

"He can meet you at three at Aisha's. You know where that is, right?"

"I've been there a few times. They have great cupcakes there."

"Great, then you're all set. He says he's looking forward to meeting you."

"Does he know how I look like?"

"I told him you're pretty. And... Very red-haired. Is that even your natural color?"

"It is, actually. It runs in the family."

"You're a mutant."

"Aren't we all?"

*** The thought of - altough a casual and with no strings attached - her upcoming date with Louise's mysterious friend was making her slightly nervous and excited at the same time. She knew Lou wouldn't set her up with a complete douche - she had faith in the people Louise surrounded herself with. He was an old friend, after all; their relationship lasted for years for a good reason.

She was slightly late, when she arrived at Aisha's Teahouse - her previous meeting was longer than she planned and then she got lost on the way, because she decided to not take a cab.

The place was crowded when she walked in, her hair a mess and her cheeks red, thanks to the wind. She looked around quickly, trying to figure out if her date is already there.

"Are you Charlie?" she suddenly heard a voice; an elderly waitress was standing in front of her, resting her empty tray on her hip. "There is a young man waiting for you. There, in the corner."

"Thank you!" she replied, taking her jacket off and putting it on a rack. "Oh, I see him."

Tommy indeed was already there - in the far corner of the room, occupying one of the more secluded tables. He was reading something on his phone and only looked up as she approached the table; and during her short walk she had a chance to take a good, long look at him.

He was handsome, she decided. Exactly her type, if she even had one - if she was younger and still in her rebellious phase, she'd probably fall for him instantly, for his smirk, for his bright eyes and a small scar across the bridge of his nose.

"Hey." she said nervously. "Sorry I'm late."

"Not a problem." he said; he put his phone down and got up, looking at her and for a brief moment she found herself completely lost in his eyes and the first hints of crow's feet next to them. "I have to say, Lou's words didn't quite do you justice."

He winked at her, gently took her hand and brushed it with his lips, still looking her in the eye. She was almost glad her cheeks were red from the wind - it masked her blush a bit.

"She was right when she said you're a charmer." she said, as he pulled out a chair for her and she sat down, noting the faint scent of his - definitely not cheap - cologne.

(Her father was a connoisseur, and she learned the difference between the good colognes and the cheap stuff at a fairly young age. In fact, she was almost sure Tommy is using the same brand as her father.)

They ordered - classic Earl Grey and blueberry muffin for him, and Darjeeling and strawberry cheesecake for her - and she started playing with her fingers, staring at her palms and only glancing at him occasionally.

He was smiling every time she looked at him, his head tilted slightly to the side.

"So, Charlie... Who talks first?" he said finally. "You? Me?"

"Let's play rock-paper-scissors." she suggested and his face lit up. "The loser has to be first to introduce themself like a loser."

"Deal." he said, hiding his right hand under the table.

He lost and she took a sip of her hot tea to hide her smile.

"Let's see..." he said eventually, stirring his tea. "My name's Thomas, I've lived here and there, and I'm not related to the Gotham businessman named Thomas Elliot. I like... Dogs. Nerd stuff. Oh, and boxing. And color red." he finished with a smirk, glancing at her hair. "Now's your turn."

(His eyes on her felt rigt.)

"My name's Charlie, I'm from New York and yes, I am related to those slightly obnoxious hotel owners. I like..."

She paused for a moment, trying to find the right stuff to list (and to not impulsively say you).

"I like games. And good tv shows. Not soap operas though, those are unbearable. Red wine. Penguins. Lace."

"That's an interesting combination. Penguins? Really?"

"They are cute." she said defensively. "Also I watched Pingu a lot as a kid. Must have imprinted in my brain, or something."

"I'm not judging. Usually people pick cats or horses or snakes as their favorite animals. Not... Penguins."

"Yeah, well, I'm one of a kind." she said nonchalantly and he grinned and her heart skipped a beat.

"Then I guess I'm a really lucky guy."

They spent a nice afternoon together, once she loosened up a bit - Tommy really was a charmer. He was funny, attentive, great at compliments; and there was something in the way he looked at her, the way he tilted his head that was making her feel a pleasant warmth.

"God!" she said eventually, glancing at a clock and getting up. "I have to go, I'm going to be late!"

"Time flies when you're having fun." he stated playfully. "Now, before you go... Will I see you again?"

"If you want to." she said quickly, her heart beating surprisingly fast; she damn sure wanted to see him again. "But now I really have to go. I'll take your number from Lou... Oh, and next time's on me."

She - hastily, and clumsily - planted a kiss on his scruffy cheek and hurried outside, grabbing her jacket on the way out, her face burning red and her heart pounding.

Later that day, somewhere around midnight - as she was heading to bed, tired but pleased - her phone rang. It was Louise.

"Hey girl!" she heard her friend's chipper voice. "So, how was it?"

"It was... Alright." she said reservedly, not having the right words to describe her feelings - how she felt a connection and how Tommy was the first man in many months to make her blush and how he made her skin tingle.

"...just alright? I'm going to kick his ass."

"No! Fine, it was great. I like him, and I think... He likes me. And we'll see where it goes from here."

"That's better." Louise said with satisfaction. "Hit me or other girls up if he fucks something up though. We'll fix him up."

"Noted." she said, yawning quietly. "Sorry Lou, I feel like I'm about to pass out... I really need some sleep."

"Sleep tight! I'll tell the asshole he did well."

"Yeah, you do that. Night!"

The next morning she couldn't remember what she dreamed about, but she woke up with a smile on her face and her heart filled with a pleasant, soft warmth.

The next weeks were a long string of meetings and calls, mixed with occasional dates with Tommy. The initial chemistry she felt never faded away - he was still a delight to have around and he was still acting like her company's his favorite part of the day. They kept things as casual as possible, and slow - it took them ten dates and eleven weeks to actually talk about their plans for the future.

This time they decided to go for a walk in Gotham's most beautiful park - recently funded by a Cobblepot family, one of the cities oldest, most respected families. She never had a chance to see it and he claimed it's a must-see, especially during the sunset.

"So, I've been thinking..." he said as they were walking among the trees. "It's been some time. How do you feel about me?"

"What do you mean?" she asked carefully, admiring flowers planted next to the sidewalk.

"I very much enjoy our time together, Charlie." he said hesitantly, standing behind her as she crouched to take a closer look at a particularly eye-catching daffodil. "I think... I might be developing feelings for you."

She gasped quietly, as her heart - very literally - stopped beating for a moment and a sound of her own blood briefly filled her ears.

She absolutely, desperately wanted to hear him say that - but it was still almost shocking to hear. Almost surprising, even despite the way he looked at her.

It's been months since she divorced Harry, since she found out who he really is. Maybe it was time for her to give love another shot. Maybe Tommy - Thomas Elliot - was the right person. He was funny and nice and hotter than hell and always knew exactly what to say and she often found herself missing him. Maybe he was the right one for her.

She got up and turned around to face him and he was looking at her expectantly, hopefully, tenderly. He had his hands in his pockets and she absentmindedly reached out to take some pollen off the collar of his coat.

"The feeling's mutual." she said finally and she could see the relief in his eyes. "I... You make me feel something. And it's a good feeling. And I think... We should give relationship a shot."

"Can I kiss you?" he asked and instead of answering, she closed her eyes and leaned in, thanking herself for wearing heels that day; without them, she'd have to tiptoe to reach him.

The kiss felt right, it just felt right - and so did his hand on her back and another one in her hair.

"God, you're fun to kiss." he whispered eventually. "Why didn't I do it sooner?"

"Because you're a gentleman?" she suggested softly, her hands still on his arms. "I don't know."

He kissed her again, and again, and a few more times, before someone interrupted them - a visibly disgruntled, older couple, telling them to either get a room or stop being disgusting in public.

"They are probably right, you know." Charlie giggled as they walked away hastily, her fingers intertwined with Tommy's. "I want some ice cream."

"Everything for you, darling." he said nonchalantly. "Pick a stand. They're all good. I'd know. I've tested all of them."

"Are you an ice cream connoisseur?" she asked, trying to decide whether she wants sorbet or something with dairy or maybe something fancy.

"You could say that."

They got their ice cream and left; the sun had set and other people started to leave the park, only leaving silence and trash behind.

He walked her home that evening; and for a moment, for a brief moment, she considered inviting him upstairs, for some wine. They'd talk. She'd kiss him and he'd give in and they'd spend the night together; it'd be her first night with someone in long, long months.

But in the end, she ended up not inviting him. Instead, she planted a kiss on his cheek and he kissed the back of her hand, looking her in the eye, just like he did on their first date.

"See you around, darling." he said and one more time she considered kissing him properly - but she knew she wouldn't stop if she started.

(And as much as she wanted him, she also wanted to not scare him away.)

"See you." she said instead, turned around and entered the building, feeling like she's about to burst, or start singing and dancing, or both.

And that was the last time Charlie ever saw Tommy Elliot.

*** He didn't disappear without a trace, no. It was simply a matter of time - Crowne Continental Gotham's grand opening night was coming up and she was too busy with preparations. He understood - they still had texts and calls. She missed his lips and his warm embrace, but she kept telling herself that once everything is done and the hotel is officially open and the guests are gone she'll finally invite him over for dinner.

He actually called her twenty four hours before the party. She didn't feel as tense as she did during the last week; all the most important guests - the Waynes and the Cobblepots and the Kanes and the Hills and many, many other people - RSVPed already, confirming their presence. The catering was taken care of, and so were the decorations and even her parents told her to take a night off, to relax before her night.

(Of course, they were supposed to be there, as the original brand owners - but it was supposed to be her night.)

So, when her phone called she picked up without giving it a second thought.

"Hey honey." she said, closing her laptop.

"Are you free tonight?"

"I might be." she said flirtatiously. "Why?"

"Because I miss you, obviously. Also there's something we should... Talk about."

"Did something happen?"

"It's complicated. And I'd... Rather do it face to face."

She was worried for a moment, but he didn't sound sad or tense - so probably everything was fine.

"Alright. Where do you want me?"

"Aisha's?"

"I'll be there in thirty. See you!"

When she entered the - crowded, as usual - teashop she instantly spotted him, sitting at the same table as during their first meeting. He looked... Different.

His usually carelessly messy hair were slicked back and he was wearing a suit, instead of his usual, casual clothes. His sack-like trench coat was nowhere to be seen; and he looked damn good, but she was still a bit surprised by this change of image.

(He still had his bad boy charm to him though. He was still scruffy and he still had that scar she loved to kiss.)

"Hello, darling." he said, as she approached him. "You look beautiful."

"What's up with your clothes?" she asked, as he pulled out a chair for her.

"What, you don't like it?"

"You look... Different. It's not bad, just... Different."

"Serious clothes for a serious occasion." he said, ostensibly nonchalantly - but she could sense some gloom and seriousness in his tone.

It took them a while to get to the point, but eventually it happened. Tommy - a man she knew as Tommy, a man she started falling in love with, a man she fed ducks with, a man she wanted to introduce to her parents eventually - cleared his throat and she looked at him.

"Charlie." he said finally. "There's something... I need to apologize for."

(Hit me or other girls up if he fucks something up though. We'll fix him up.)

"What?" she asked calmly, nervously playing with a paper napkin, tearing it to shreds. "What happened?"

"I'm not Thomas Elliot. That is not my real name, my real identity."

His words echoed in her head, like a monastery bell in an empty hall. Her heart dropped and her vision became slightly blurry.

"Then who are you?" she asked finally. "And... Why have you been lying to me?"

"My real name... Is Oswald. Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot." he said calmly, looking at her apologetically and she laughed, shaking her head.

"That's impossible. I've met Oswald Cobblepot. He looks... Nothing like you."

"I'm not saying I'm the only Oswald Cobblepot in Gotham. No, the man you met - pale and short and polite to the bone - is my cousin. My father and his mother... Are twins. We're both heirs to the Cobblepot fortune." he said, weighting every word, not taking his eyes off her. "I asked him to not mention me. I told him... You don't know I exist."

"But why?" she asked faintly, suddenly realizing how tense the atmosphere in the teahouse was that afternoon. "Why were you lying to me?"

"Charlie, I assure you, this was the only lie I've ever told you. Everything I said... I meant it. Every word. And every kiss."

"But why?"

"I had my reasons. But... Does it change how you see me? Does it change your feelings for me?"

She took a sip of her drink, trying to think of a good answer. Tommy or Oswald, rich or not, heir to a fortune or an orphan - sitting in front of her was still a man she had feelings for. He was still the same person.

At least he admitted to his own lies.

"I'm not sure." she said finally. "Why admit to all of this now though?"

"Because..."

He reached out and brushed her free hand with his fingertips and she felt the familiar, electric tingling go through her body.

"Because I need your help." he said finally. "I need your help in killing someone."

"What?" she asked after what felt like a infinity, filled with surreal, palpable, thick silence. "What? What? What?"

"Your reaction is understandable." he said quietly, sorrowfully. "And I'm deeply, truly sorry for getting you tangled up in this mess. I swear it wasn't my idea."

"Is this a joke?" she uttered, not fully comprehending her situation. "T... Oswald. Is this a joke?"

"No. I am very serious, my darling."

"Don't call me that." she snapped at him and he winced and his eyes got darker. "What the fuck is going on, Oswald?"

"Do you want a long or a short version?"

"Doesn't matter. I'm not helping you."

"And yet you're still here." he said quietly, his eyes still on her and she almost felt uncomfortable under his piercing, burning gaze. "It's quite simple, really. I need you to move the main event to another part of the main wing. That's it."

"This is a joke." she stated suddenly, deciding to hold onto this possibility for as long as possible. "Right? This is just a fucked up joke. One that's going to almost ruin us, yes... But it's nothing that can't be fixed. Yes?"

"So you want proof. Fine. I can give you proof. Ever heard of the Penguin?"

Of couse she heard of him - who didn't? A mysterious, masked individual, who also happened to be world's most elusive and efficient assassin. Nobody ever saw his face and lived to tell the tale. Some said he was a demon; some said it was an inherited title; some said it was a series of very devoted impostors and that the original Penguin was long, long dead.

"I am the Penguin." Oswald Cobblepot said quietly. "Well, the current one at least. On my phone, I have a recording of me... Putting the mask on."

"How am I supposed to know it's not a replica?"

"Think about it, Charlie. Cobblepots are an old, very rich family... Our money didn't come out of nowhere. It all makes sense, you simply... Have to accept it."

"Accept it?" she repeated bitterly. "Accept what? That- that someone I loved had been lying to me for months? That a man I loved is actually a fucking hitman? That someone is trying to use me - again?"

"Darling..."

"Don't call me that!" she repeated, her heart breaking; she loved the way he said this word. It always made her feel at peace. "Please. Just... Don't."

"I am sorry." Oswald said and she covered her face with her hands to avoid looking at him. "I really, really am. Please... Charlie..."

"No." she said firmly, feeling... Almost empty.

(What she hated the most about this whole situation, was the fact it didn't feel half as bad as when she found out what was Harry really after. Harry kept lying till the very end; Oswald was being honest and open. It was fucked up.)

"I'm not going to help you kill anybody." she continued, her voice muffled by her hands. "What I am going to do though is to go straight to the police. Tell them everything."

"They're not going to believe you." he said quietly, his voice tense. "Nobody's going to believe you."

"Well, somebody's going to believe me."

He didn't say anything and she slowly moved her hands away from her face to look at him.

He wasn't looking at her anymore; his gaze was stuck on his own hands, lying on the surface of their table. He looked sad, really, genuinely sad. Resigned.

"What now?" she asked finally, feeling waves of inert calmness washing over her. "You just confessed to being the Penguin and I refused to help. What now?"

"What are you suggesting, d... Charlie?"

"Are you going to kill me?"

"I'd rather take my own life here and now than hurt you." he said quietly and oddly tenderly. "No, I'm not going to kill you. But I can't just let you go either. Not until you agree."

"But I'm not going to agree to anything!"

"But you have to, Charlie. You have to. Please." he pleaded. "I am not going to hurt anybody. But people I work for..."

"People you work for?!"

"People I work for... They don't have my morals, Charlie. They don't follow my don't touch the innocent principle. And they know you. And your family."

She felt the ice cold grip of fear tighten around her throat.

"What?" she asked slowly. "No..."

"Please." he pleaded. "Help me and I will get you out of this mess. They won't go after you if you help me. That'll give me a chance to fix everything. I give you my word."

"Your word is worthless, Oswald." she said impassively, feeling like someone dumped her insides in gasoline mixed with salt and sulfur. "It means nothing. You lied to me - fine. I'd accept it as some dumb test, to see if I like you or your name. I'd accept it. I'd move on. But this... No, Oswald. No."

She felt like she's about to pass out. She looked at him, trying to keep calm.

"Excuse me for a moment." she said, getting up. "I need to use the restroom. I'll be right back."

"You do that." he said quietly and she turned around and walked away. She knew he's following her with his eyes; and she knew there's no window in the ladies room. No escape routes. The only way out was either through the main door, or through the back door, accessible through the kitchen - both of them visible from where he was seated.

She felt trapped and terrified and sad and heartbroken and empty and oh god, she felt so many, many things at once, colliding, overflowing, confusing.

She stood by the sink, staring at her own reflection, her face a picture of shock and heartbreak and fear. She saw the drops of water stuck in her lashes. She remembered Tommy - Oswald, she firmly corrected herself - saying he'd kiss each and every of her freckles if he had a chance. She remembered looking at him and thinking they were shaped for each other.

All gone now, replaced with this bizarre knowledge of her partner being a hitman in need of her help.

(It wasn't all gone, but she muffled it, repressed it, hid it, locked it away. It didn't matter anymore anyway.)

As she was walking back to their table, a faint outline of a plan formed in her head. First she had to get away. Then... She'd figure something out, she was sure of it.

As she was right next to their table and as he was looking up, she grabbed a glass from the nearby table and smashed it on his head, spilling orange juice everywhere. Before anyone reacted, she turned around and ran out of the teahouse, frantically reaching for her phone. The battery was dead - because of course. She had a spare in her apartment; and she decided there's no time to try going to the police. She had to call her parents, she had to warn them. She had to get away. Figure something out. Figure out who on her guest list is Penguin's target. Warn them.

(She remembered his eyes when he first told her he's developing feelings for her. She remembered every kiss, every word. Was it all a lie? A ploy? A manipulation tactic? She hoped so. It would make hating Oswald Cobblepot so much easier.)

She got in the nearest cab, slamming the door behind her. The driver looked at her in the rear mirror; he looked amused. The plaque attached to vehicle's radio announced his name is Brian Thomas.

"Bad day?" he asked, as she nervously gave him her destination and asked him to be fast.

"The worst." she replied, rubbing her forehead with her palm; everything she felt was gone, replaced with weariness. She wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. "What's the absolute worst date you've ever been to?"

"He didn't show up." Brian replied casually and Charlie sighed, wishing this could be her problem as well. A simple case of being stood up; not... Whatever the hell was this.

"I can take you to a police station if your date tried something funny." the driver suggested, and she shook her head quietly, looking outside the window. They were passing soon to be opened hotel building; the sight of it sent a shiver down her spine.

"It's not like this." she said eventually. "He just made me... Uncomfortable. And now I just need some wine and a bath."

"Suit yourself. We're here. Hey, beautiful stranger." he said suddenly, as she was reaching for her wallet. "Can I get your number?"

"I'm sorry, Brian." she said tiredly, handing him a wad of cash; a tip to be remembered. "I'm sure you're a very sweet guy, but for now I don't think I'm in mood for anything. Maybe next time."

"Here's to hoping our paths cross again." he said cheerfully as she got out and closed the doors behind her.

She practically ran inside the building, not looking back at Brian, who only took off after the doors closed behind her.

"Good evening, miss!" the receptionist greeted her cheerfully as she hurriedly approaced the counter.

"Leslie, I need a huge, huge favor. There might be someone looking for me here anytime soon." she said quickly, looking at the attentive young woman. "Please don't let them in. Tell them I'm not here. Anything. I know you'll think of something."

"Naturally, miss. Should I call the police?"

"No!" she said with exasperation. "Please. No police. I have this under control."

"Take care, miss." Leslie said as she was disappearing inside the elevator.

She forgot where exactly she put her spare phone and it took her about fifteen minutes to find it, and then - with her fingers shaking - another five to take her SIM card out of her dead phone and put it into the charged one. She stared at her contact list, frantically trying to decide who to call first. She didn't have time to call every single person from her guest list, but she knew the victim is there. Was it Bruce Wayne? Was it Harvey Dent? Was it one of the Kanes?

For a brief moment she considered calling Louise, but quickly abandoned the idea. Louise was not to be trusted anymore. After all, it was her who set her up with "Tommy" - and other girls weren't much better either, considering "Tommy" was also their friend. Maybe they also worked for the same people as he did.

She decided to call her father first. His calm demeanor always helped her focus and she knew he'll think of something. Make everything right.

But neither her father nor her mother picked up. They were probably busy, or asleep; and they weren't picking up.

She spent the next few minutes sitting in the middle of her spacious living room, crying out of frustration.

As she was getting up - she wanted to go to her bedroom and get her handgun, just in case - someone's strong arm suddenly wrapped around her, tighthly pressing her arms to her torso. Someone's gloved hand covered her mouth, as she began to scream.

"Please don't scream." Oswald Cobblepot whispered into her ear, holding her tight. "I only want to talk. Please."

"Mmmhmmhmff!" she gurgled angrily, aggresively trying to stomp his foot; but it wasn't very effective, considering she took her killer heels off as soon as she entered her flat. Oswald sighed.

"Please don't make me tie you up, Charlie." he said tiredly, still holding her.

(She hated and despised the fact fear didn't come first. What came first was... Definitely not fear.)

"I'm now going to take my hand off your mouth and you are going to not scream bloody murder. Deal?"

She shook her head furiously and he sighed again and rested his chin on her head.

"I'm going to do it anyway." he muttered eventually and did as he promised; she was free to speak, but he still hadn't let go of her. "Oh. You're not screaming. That's nice."

"Let go off me." she said quietly, writhing in his iron grip. "How did you get in anyway?!"

"The back door." he said tiredly, letting her to much to her surprise. "And then the stairs. Your receptionist's unharmed and unaware."

"What now, Oswald?" she asked, deciding to put all of her eggs in one basket. "You have me. What now?"

"I told you, I'm not going to hurt you. I want to talk some sense into you."

"SENSE?!" she practically exploded. "Sense?!"

"Charlie..."

She was facing him and she punched him in the chest and he didn't even budge, looking at her with his tired, tired eyes. His hair were a familiar mess again and he almost looked like that man she had ten dates with.

(She still had to warn her parents. She still had to figure out who's the target.)

She turned around and ran into her bedroom and he followed her, not letting her lock the door behind.

"Charlie, please." he said as she groaned with frustration. "What do you want me to do, get down on my knees?"

"The chance to explain yourself was about five dates ago, Oswald!" she said frantically, as he came closer.

Her fingers finally found her gun and she pulled it out triumphantly. The gun was loaded, and she pointed it at Oswald, her hand shaking. "Don't... Don't come closer."

"You know what? Fine." he said, running his fingers through his hair, looking her in the eye. "I'm tired, Charlie. Shoot me if you want to. I probably deserve it."

He did drop down on his knees and looked up at the gun she was holding in her shaking, shaking hand.

"What are you doing?" she asked frantically, as he gently took her hand and guided it, until the gun was touching his forehead.

"Pull the trigger if you want to." he repeated tiredly. "Let's make a deal though: if you can kill me, fine. Have it your way. No one else will die and this will be the end of this Penguin. Someone else will take the mask. But if you can't... You will hear me out."

She was looking at him, her body trembling, her eyes wide open, her heart pounding, her breaths short and shaky. Could she do it? Would she do it?

(Harry came back to mind. How adamant he was in his lies, how his lies turned into threats. It was her parents who saved her that day.)

"I can't do this." she said eventually, her eyes filled with tears. "I... I can't. I can't kill you."

"Why?" he asked quietly, his eyes closed. "What's stopping you?"

(The way he looked at her, the way he kissed her, the way he laughed at her terrible jokes.)

"You said... You meant everything you said to me as Tommy." she said eventually. "Is that true?"

"It's painfully true, Charlie."

"What was first - me or the job?"

"You." he replied instantly, his eyes still closed. "You were first. If it depended on me... I wouldn't get you mixed up in all of this."

"Then why did you get me involved? Me and my family?"

"Because the person who ordered a hit had some very... Strict preferences. And people I'm currently working for... They are perfectionists. Everything has to go in accordance to our client's preference, otherwise... Otherwise someone close to me will pay the price for my mistakes."

He finally opened his eyes and looked at her and she felt her heart almost melt.

"So please, Charlie." he continued quietly, gently taking her hand away and the touch of cold leather on her skin made her almost drop her loaded gun. "Help me with this one thing. Help me keep you safe. And I.... I will take care of the rest."

(His words were a promise of a bloodbath and she hated the fact she believed in his promises of safety.)

"Fine." she said finally, putting the gun away. "Fine. Have it your way."

"Do you hate me now?" he asked, getting up and putting his gloved hand on her arm. "Please. I need to know."

"I'd love to." she blurted out. "I'm trying to. But I can't. I just... Can't."

"I'll make it up to you, somehow. I can... Disappear from your life forever, once this is all done."

"Just tell me what do you want from me." she said tiredly, rubbing her eyes with her hand. "Don't give me any details, just... Tell me."

"I only need you to move this thing to another part of the main wing, that's all. Move it to the Scarlet Lounge."

Her phone was ringing in another room. Her parents, probably.

"Who's the target?" she asked finally and Oswald sighed.

"Hamilton Hill."

"He has a family, Oswald."

"Who do you think ordered the hit?" he asked quietly. "Have you met his daughter?"

Of course she met Hamilton's daughter. Her name was Skyler, she was few years younger than her and was beautiful like a sunset and sharp like a razor. She was a brilliant young woman, on her way to becoming one of Gotham's best lawyers.

"She has her reasons. Very good reasons. Have you ever thought about what kinds of people Penguin kills? Corrupt politicians, abusers hiding behind their public faces."

"You're going to ruin my family's good name." Charlie muttered, once again feeling like she's about to pass out. "This is going to be a disaster."

"Skyler had the same concerns, that's why she insisted on not making it look like an accident. She's a thoughtful girl."

"Fine. Fine. Fine. I'll do it." she finally gave up, putting the gun away. "Oswald..."

"Yes?"

"Don't disappear from my life." she blurted out. "I... I don't know how I feel about you anymore, but please, don't disappear."

"I won't." he said softly. "Do you want me to go now?"

"Fuck, I don't know. I feel like an idiot now. I don't know."

"You're not an idiot, Charlie. You're an opposite of an idiot. You think on your feet, and you stalled me for hours. And I'm a professional hitman... Who might or might not be slightly blinded by his feelings."

"That's not a compliment a girl wants to hear, you know."

"And what do you want me to say? That you're beautiful? And distracting? And charming?"

"...for example, yes." she muttered and he smiled faintly.

"I can tell you a lot of sweet nothings and compliments, Charlie. But I'd rather do it over dinner and some wine."

"Are you... Asking me out?" she asked slowly. "After... All of this? You're asking me out?"

"Yes. I... I already made a reservation." he confessed and she smiled nervously. "At Lafontaine's. Two days after tomorrow."

"Fine." she said eventually and his face lit up. "I'll be there. Now... Can you please go? I have some... Calls to make."

She almost stopped him from leaving, actually. She almost kissed him and almost put his gloves off and put his hands on her back. She was feeling tired and yearned for physical touch, now that she knew what was really going on.

(Don't make me tie you up, Charlie.)

But instead, she saw him leave, closing the door behind him. She sighed. She rubbed her forehead, wondering where did all her emotions go suddenly.

(She never liked Hamilton Hill. He was a Republican, and a really far-right one. She knew his stances on various social issues; and sure, he was courteous and polite during their rare meetings, but he was still a disgusting man. And she wondered what exactly prompted his own daughter to order a hit on him. What was happening behind the closed doors of the Hill family?)

*** Hamilton Hill died at her party.

Everything was splending - nobody minded the fact everything was moved to another place, which she excused with some unforeseen technical difficulties that were previously overlooked. People hired to help were paid triple for the fact they suddenly had to move everything to another part of the main wing. Everything was great and her parents were so, so proud of her. She kept looking around, searching for Oswald - her Oswald, not his polite, short cousin - but naturally he was nowhere to be seen.

(She did some reading and apparently the son of Esther and Theodore had been absent from Gotham for a few months now. She kept wondering why exactly is he living a double life.)

"Charlotte!" she heard his cousin's voice behind her and she turned around to face the smiling, young man in a tux. "What a lovely night."

The shorter Cobblepot leaned in.

"I have a gift from my cousin." he whispered into her ear, sliding something into her palm. "He says... Thank you."

"Thank you, Oswald." she said calmly, hiding a small box inside her purse. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Oh, very. Your mother is absolutely incredible. Such grace!"

"I'm very glad to hear it." she said, glancing at the Hills over Oswald's shoulder. They looked peaceful, calm, happy. Skyler noticed her gaze and slightly nodded in her direction, quickly turning her attention back to her mother.

The Scarlet Lounge had a better view on the city, than the Golden Hall - one of it's walls was made entirely out of glass. Charlie could see almost everything from where she was standing - the stars, the river, the Wayne Tower, the mayor's office.

Hamilton Hill was standing there, alone, with a glass of champagne, staring at a city that wanted him dead.

She approached him with a glass of wine, wondering if everything had been just a bad dream. Nothing had happened so far; maybe Skyler called off the hit? Maybe it really was just her imagination?

"It's a beautiful night in Gotham, isn't it?" Hamilton said, not looking at her. "From here, it all looks so peaceful... So right."

"I have to admit, I'm growing quite fond of this city." she admitted, taking a sip of her wine. "It looks and sounds like chaos, but there is beauty in its pulse."

"It's a shame it's been infected with so much scum." he muttered and she rolled her eyes. "Bah. Life's so short. I wish I had more time to help this city shape itself into something truly beautiful, you know? I wish I had more time."

"Can't do, Hill." she suddenly heard a raspy, artificially modified voice behind them. They both quickly turned around - only to face the Penguin himself, to stare into his mask's black, lifeless eyes.

She had no idea how he got there unnoticed, but he did - and now the others were noticing something's going on.

"All debts must be paid, Hill." Penguin said calmly, completely ignoring mortified Charlie standing next to the politician. "And your debt is long overdue."

He pulled out a gun, and she scoffed at the sight of it. Of course he was using a silenced AMT Hardballer. He pointed his gun at Hamilton's face and everyone in the room froze in place.

"Turn around, Hill." Penguin ordered quietly and Hill mindlessly obeyed.

The hitman turned his head and looked at Charlie.

"You might want to take few steps back." he informed her in a polite, casual tone of voice. "So sorry to ruin your party like this... But you know how it is. Work is work."

Charlie slowly stepped back, unable to take her eyes off Hill's mortified profile. Penguin put his gun to mayor's head.

"Take a good look at this city, mayor. Take a good look at everything you almost ruined. And now... Goodbye."

He pulled a trigger and someone in the room screamed when Hamilton Hill's blood splattered on the glass in front of him.

Penguin slipped away in the ensuing chaos, and Charlie somehow ended up next to exceptionally calm Skyler, who was staring at her father's corpse the way someone else would look at a broken pen.

"I know what you did." Skyler said quietly, so quietly only Charlie could hear her. "Thank you."

"Things we do for love." Charlie replied equally quietly, glancing at Skyler. "Why did you do it?"

"I didn't do anything."

"I hope you won't regret this, Skyler."

"Oh, trust me. I won't. This is a childhood dream come true."

The tone of her voice told Charlie everything she needed to know about what was going on behind the closed doors of the Hill family.

When the police arrived - lead by a very disgruntled (who could blame him? Gotham's mayor just got murdered on his watch) Jim Gordon, accompanied with visibly stressed out Harvey Dent - Charlie came off clean. Her story about an overlooked technical problem in the Golden Hall miraculously turned out to be true; they found some issues with the water pipes. Nobody questioned Penguin's interaction with her - the elusive assassin was well-known for being a gentleman towards people who were not his targets.

"That's one hell of an opening night." her father muttered, downing a glass of whiskey and her mother sighed and shook her head.

"Nobody could foresee this." she said sadly. "Usually political assassinations are not on a list of possible problems."

"Bah! Political my ass." her father scoffed and Charlie turned her head away to hide her smile. "Democrats don't have what it takes to order a hit on anyone. Bunch of weenies."

(In his youth, Crispin Schiller-Aberdeen used to be an antifa activist. With age - and marriage - he softened down a bit; but it was a well known fact he sometimes still bails out anarchists and other young antifas out of prison.)

"A man is dead, Crispin." Eleanor said coldly, rolling her eyes and taking her husband's hand. "No more whiskey for you tonight, darling."

Louise showed up, tapping Charlie's shoulder.

"Charlie? A word." she said to her, and briefly turned her attention to Charlie's parents. "Louise McDonagh, assistant district attorney. Pleased to meet you. My superior needs to talk to your daughter."

She grabbed Charlie's hand and pulled her away.

"Does Dent really want to talk to me?" Charlie asked finally, after making sure nobody can hear them. Louise shook her head.

"No, but I do. I guess... I should apologize."

"Yes." Charlie said coldly. "You should. You could have warned me."

"There's no good way to warn anyone of something like this, you know. What was I supposed to say?"

"The truth!"

"Look, I'm sorry! Okay? I'm sorry! I'm really, really sorry! I didn't know he's going to get this job! If I knew, I'd tell him to stay the fuck away from you!"

"This is all I wanted to hear, you know." Charlie sighed, awkwardly putting her hand on Louise's shoulder. "Look. I'm... Fine. I think my reputation's fine as well. A bit of a shocker... It might be a good advertisement."

"This is the most fucked up think I've heard this year. How is mayor's death a good advertisement?!"

"You know how people are."

"Fuck. You're right. Uh-oh." she muttered, glancing at her phone. "Turns out Harvey does want to speak to you. And he's... Not happy. Fuck."

"You can't expect him to be happy, considering what happened tonight. But don't worry, I'm sure his boyfriend will cheer him up." she said with a smirk and Louise snorted quietly.

*** Only after finally getting home - which happened after the dusk - Charlie opened a gift from her Oswald.

It was pearls; he gave her a pair of pearl earrings, and matching necklace and a bracelet. Attached to the bracelet was a note.

Once again - so sorry for ruining your night, darling.

She smiled faintly to herself, wondering what's going to happen between her and Cobblepot next. She was still shocked by his identity - she never expected her date to turn out to be a fucking Penguin - but she also felt... Excited. She felt a pleasant thrill.

(At least he was honest. And she appreciated this honesty more than she cared to admit. The man who kissed her was a killer.)

She wondered what's going to happen next, now that he abandonded his Tommy Elliot persona. Did it mean they're going to become something serious?

(She hoped so.)

Finally, their date night had arrived. He asked her to meet him at 6pm; and he even sent out a limousine to pick her up. It seemed like he's very determined to make their affair public - and she didn't mind.

Lafontaine's was one of the best restaurants in America, and the best one in Gotham. Some people waited for their reservations for literal years; but it seemed like all it took to get in was to have the right name. Like Cobblepot, for example.

Mere moments after she stepped inside Lafontaine's luxurious hall, she was approached by a chipper maître d' with a spring in her step.

"Miss Charlotte Schiller-Aberdeen, I presume?" the woman asked politely, and Charlie winced slightly, hearing the disliked full version of her name.

"Yes. This is me."

"Mister Cobblepot is awaiting you. Please, follow me."

Their table was in the middle of the well-lit room. She could hear smooth jazz playing quietly in the background, mixed with a quiet shimmer of the water from the nearby decorative fountain.

"Charlie, you look simply breathtaking." Oswald said as soon as he noticed her, tapping his finger on the surface of their table and getting up. "And those pearls... Look very familiar."

"Same can be said about your hair and cologne, Oswald."

"Ah, so it's working. Good." he said with a wink. "I have to be honest... I was half expecting you to cancel."

"It can still be arranged, you know."

"Don't." he said softly and she smiled, glancing at her hands. "How is... The aftermath?"

"Everything's under control... On my side of the bargain." she replied quietly. "And on your end?"

"I took care of everything." he said very seriously. "Just like I promised I would."

(She wondered how many people had died because of her. She wondered if he was covered in their blood.)

"So." he said in a more upbeat tone, "Let's switch to more pleasant topics. Such as all the compliments I owe you."

He looked at her tenderly and she tilted her head, wondering what happened to that almost broken man who put her gun to his head and told her to kill him if she wants to.

"Go on." she said eventually. "Just... Not all at once. Save some for later."

"Oh? Are you implying... There will be more?"

"Of course." she said softly, brushing his hand with her fingertips. "I still stand by everything I said, you know."

They spent a nice evening with wine and truffles and other fancy food. They talked; she told him about her divorce and in return he told her about his last ugly breakup. She almost forgot he's an assassin. She almost forgot she almost killed him.

(They didn't know they parents are in the same restaurant. It turned out Crispin and Esther used to be friends during their rebellious youths. They decided to have a double married date; and now were sitting not too far from their children, who were too busy with each other to notice their parents.

"Reminds me of our first date..." Esther sighed, looking fondly at the way her son brushed Charlie's hair away from her face. "We raised our boy well."

"You better." Crispin grumbled and Esther and Eleanor laughed in response. "He better be good for my girl."

"He's my son, Crispin. Of course he'll be good... Or I'll whoop his ass." Esther said archly. "But what about your child?"

"Oh, Charlie used to be a little hearbreaker!" Eleanor giggled. "But I think this is serious for both of them."

"Mmmmhmmm." Theodore said absentmindedly, watching his son. "I'd recognize those pearls everywhere."

"Let's give them some space though." Crispin suggested, taking his eyes off Oswald's face. "Now, let's drink to a bright future...")

He walked her home that night.

"Do you want to... Stay the night?" she asked hesitantly, as they were quietly standing in front of the entrance to her building.

"I don't know." he replied nonchalantly, brushing her palm with his gloved fingers. "Do you want me to stay the night?"

"Yes." she said almost instantly and he smirked. "You're not going to kill me, right?"

"We've been through this already."

"I just want to be sure."

"My father and his sister were also Penguins, you know." Oswald said quietly. "And look at their spouses now. Alive and well. And I assure you... Mom and uncle had both been in this exact same situation."

He brushed her hand with his lips, looking her in the eye, sending electric shivers down her spine.

"I won't hurt you, unless you want me to." he assured her with a wink. "So?"

"Stay the night." she said breathlessly, thanking herself from few hours ago for putting on some nice, lace lingerie.

They entered the building hand in hand, saying good evening to Leslie.

"Miss!" she called out to Charlie. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Leslie, why do you ask?"

"Well, last time I saw you you acted like you're running from someone..." Leslie said, visibly abashed and Charlie smiled.

"Everything's fine, Leslie. Your concern is very touching though. Have a good night."

"Yes, Leslie, have a good night!" Oswald repeated, nodding vigorously and winking at Leslie, who gasped when she realized who's that standing next to Charlie.

"She's going to tell everyone." Charlie muttered in the elevator, between kisses.

"Do you mind other people knowing? About us?"

"No, but I don't want any pesky journalists digging into my life."

She gasped when his hand crawled under her dress.

"I'll take care of them." he promised in a raspy voice and she sighed, wondering if he's going to bribe them or kill them. "Now hush. They're not important."

He made her forget about everything, for a night - the journalists, Hamilton Hill, her gun put to his head, her doubts. He made her forget her own damn name. All that mattered was his presence intertwined with hers, their breaths tangled together, his skin and her skin, her voice and his kisses.

He was still there when she woke up; he was asleep next to her and in that one moment, Charlie couldn't decide which of the three men - Oswald, Tommy and Penguin - is lying in her bed.

She decided she doesn't care. She loved him anyway; and something told her the feeling's mutual.

*** One week later Oswald Cobblepot was in Perth, Australia. He was visiting an old friend - of sorts. It was not going to be a friendly visit.

The man he was looking for went by many names, but he only cared about two of them - Harold Spencer and Alexander Krill. They worked together a few times years ago, but then went their separate ways - and Oswald hadn't really thought of his old coworker, until he learned what happened between Charlie Schiller-Aberdeen and her ex-husband; a con-artist, who first wanted to simply steal her fortune and run away, but - after being found out - attempted to kill her in cold blood. Charlie was saved by her parents's surprise visit; and she wasn't aware Oswald Cobblepot knew Harry.

Or Alex. Depends on who you ask.

He knew there are better ways to steal a girl's heart than to kill her ex husband who used her. He gave her pearls. He complimented her. Took her out on fancy dates, made her writhe under his touch. He was good at this game and he knew that - even despite a rocky beginning - his relationship with Charlie is secure.

Still, he felt like killing Alexander is just... A right thing to do.

(He considered calling it "one last job" - he knew his cousin has his eyes on the mantle of the Penguin. Maybe it was high time for him to step back and to live the way rich playboy should; no assassinations, just champagne, fancy clothes and his beautiful darling at his side. Yeah. It felt and sounded right.)

So there he was in Perth, where Krill had holed up, probably planning his next big scam. He was hiding in a crappy apartment complex - even though Oz was well aware his old co-worker can afford something luxurious.

He put his mask on. He fixed his tie. He knocked; he very much enjoyed the peculiar sound of a hand covered with a glove made out of expensive, high quality leather knocking on a cheap wooden surface.

Krill opened the doors after a while and he wasn't happy to see Oswald.

"Fuck, Penguin?" he asked, visibly disgruntled. "What do you want?"

"To talk. Let me in."

"Alright, but make it quick." Krill said, turning around and coming back to his shitty living room. "I have stuff to do."

"No, you don't." Penguin replied calmly, reaching for his gun. "And to be honest... You're not going to be doing a lot of things ever again, Alexander."

"What?" Alex asked with annoyance, turned around and froze at the sight of Oswald's gun. "Dude. What the fuck?!"

"One last shitty joke, before we part ways forever, partner." Penguin sad, tilting his head to the side. "Do you know what penguins eat?"

"N-no!" Alexander replied, his face a picture of pure fear. "What do you want from me?!"

"Penguins - among other things - eat krill." Oswald replied calmly. "Say aaaa."

Alexander Krill opened his mouth to scream and Penguin pulled the trigger.

The bullet was faster than his voice.

*** "How was your trip?" Charlie asked him a few days later, once he was back in Gotham and he dropped by to pay her a visit in her office. The business was booming, it seemed - Crowne Continental Gotham was filled with guests. It seemed like a recent death of the mayor that took place in the same building didn't discourage anyone.

"Perfectly uneventful." he said, deciding on not telling her the true purpose of his sudden trip to another continent. "My parents are hosting some fundraiser at out park in two weeks. Care to come as my plus one?"

"Does it mean you want to introduce me to your family?"

"Well, my cousin already knows you, and you met his parents... But I guess this might be a good time to tell my parents to stop trying to hook me up with Kate Kane." he said with a smirk and she giggled.

"Really? They tried that?"

"A lot of times."

"Well, I don't have any plans, so count me in." she said after taking a look at her schedule and he smiled lightly at the way afternoon light played with her red hair.

He noticed a small drop of dried up blood on his shoe; probably Krill's. But it didn't matter.

"I missed you." Charlie said suddenly. "Come on. Kiss me."

They kissed in her office at the top floor of Crowne Continental and he had blood on his hands and she still hadn't decided who does she really love; but none of this mattered. The Penguin gave up his title and all was good in Gotham City.

(In the other part of the town, Skyler Hill was watching the sunset with her mother. They were both dressed up in black. They were both relaxed and happiest they've been in many, many years. There were no regrets in the Hill Mansion. There were no regrets to be found anywhere in Gotham.)

#dc #telltale batman #ff #eng #oc #pinnguin

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iv-kplpt · 7 years

Text

on being in love

so i’m now a part of a group dc rp, about batman villains escaping from arkham asylum. i rp as penguin and i got GM’s permission to put charlie in the universe, so... this happened, between playing ovw, cooking rice and having depression. a short vignette about oswald and charlie and promises and doubts.

the original in polish can also be found on this blog.

Oswald had been in Arkham for six long, tiring months. He shouldn't be there - he should be in Blackgate; but there he was, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, in this one part of Gotham he hated.

(His mother walked those corridors once. Sometimes he could hear her voice, sometimes he could feel the tender touch of her fingers on his cheek.)

He spent six months waiting for his chance to escape. Six months of loneliness, because he firmly refused to integrate with other "patients". Especially with the Joker. Especially with Dent, whom he created.

(Harvey Dent, Two Face, his opus magnum. Their cells were exactly across each other... Every day Oswald was standing face to face with the consequences of his decisionsand every day he wasn't able to force himself to feel even the faintest sting of remorse or regret. He destroyed this man's life - so what? It was meant to be...)

His biggest problem during those one hundred and eighty days was not Dent's presence; nor it was his lack of empathy and his slowly dying humanity. No, his biggest problem was absence. The lack of another person at his side - or him not being present at her side.

Her name was Charlotte, Charlotte Schiller-Aberdeen - but she demanded to be called just Charlie. She was a young widow; she had hair red like blood on their hands and eyes blue like forget-me-nots he was trying to grow for her. They met shortly before he started to bring his half-baked plans to life; they met in Peperoncino, a bar belonging to Carmine Falcone. Oswald had a free pass there, due to being a protégé of Salvatore Maroni, gangster's close friend; but Charlie wasn't supposed to be there. That night he saved her life, lead by impulse and a sting of sympathy for the resolute young woman. That night he stole a first kiss from her; as well as many others. That night he left a mark of his teeth on her neck, for which she repaid him by scratching his back with her fingernails, drawing blood in the process. The next morning Charlie snuck out when he was still asleep, his heart in her pocket, and hers on a pillow next to his face - but tey only realized it one month later, when she returned to Gotham in search of a new start and him, him, him.

They fell madly, clumsily, shamelessly, agonizingly for each other - he fell in love with the softness of her hair and gentleness of her smile and the light way she spoke of matters terrible and dark; she fell in love with blood on his hands and the darkness in his heart and a scar running through the bridge of his nose. Nobody knew, except for them; they had to hide, because he was a criminal, and she was a young millionnaire, looking for her place among the members of Gotham social elite. Charlie was emanating a mysterious aura - she wouldn't let anyone into her life, she never gave out any details. Her gaze didn't carry a promise, and her smile wasn't an invitation to ask questions. She was kind, charming and funny; and it was enough for keeping people from asking questions. For keeping them from pushing any further.

In whole Gotham only Oswald knew that Charlie killed her husband. She took his life with her cool, pale hands, with which she'd stroke Oswald on his scruffy chin; in whole Gotham only Oswald knew what does Charlie look like without makeup and high heels, how she looks like when she wakes up in the morning, how she tilts her head when his teeth - like fairytale vampire's fangs - find her neck. In whole Gotham only Oswald knew; and in whole Gotham only she knew a handful of his own secrets. In whole Gotham only they knew; and they liked it that way.

And it was her absence that had been causing Oswald the most pain during those six months. Nobody knew about their relationship; nobody knew about the woman who stole Penguin's heart. That was the ultimatum he gave her one night, before everything went to hell - "I will not drag you down. Nobody will know about us. If this fails, if they catch me... I won't as much as mention you."

"If this happens, Oz..." she then whispered back, sliding something into his hand and looking him in the eye. "If this happens... I'll be waiting for you. Here, in this house. There will always be a place for you here, and I will always love you."

(Later, when he was left alone, he finally looked at what she gave him; a pebble. An ordinary - though very blue - pebble. Only after a long while he realized the full symbolism. He did the same in return - his pebble was yellow.)

He missed her every day and every night; and she couldn't even visit him, because that would make the meticulously built facade to fall. She couldn't visit - and he didn't want her to. There were people he was willing to drag down with him, but she was never on that list.

(Lying on his uncomfortable bed - that was nothing compared to a luxurious water bed in the bedroom of her home in Crest Hill - and throwing and catching the cool, smooth pebble she gave him he wondered if he's on her mind half as often as she was on his.)

He desired very few things more, than to show up on her doorstep, take her in his arms and shower her face with kisses, one for each freckle; to feel her hands on his shoulders, close his eyes and let her place a thousand of kisses soft like butterfly wings on his narrow, cruel lips.

Yes, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, Penguin, monster, terrorist, thief and a con artist - was in love. He found someone who looked at the blood on his hands and a promises of murder in his words and burning hatred in his eyes - and then said "you're awful, I adore you".

(They were saying "I love you" in so many different ways. "Kiss me", "I bought you camembert", "come to bed", "be safe", "I missed you", "I want to raise a dog with you", "I want to conquer Gotham and destroy Bruce Wayne with you", "I put some flowers at your father's bust today", "let me know if one of those elite schmucks disrespects you, I'll cut them into pieces".)

Six months with no contact, six months without her warm body at her side, six months without her soft hair between his fingers, six months without her fingers on his cheek. Six months without love.

Sometimes he'd find himself in doubt. Was there still someone waiting for him out there? Maybe Charlie changed her opinion on him, maybe she changed the locks, maybe she abandoned Gotham same way she abandoned so many other places, so many other hearts? Maybe there was no "us" anymore, maybe there was nothing for him to come back to?

Usually simply putting a hand in his pocket and squeezing the cool, smooth pebble she gave him was enough. A symbol of promise, a symbol of loyalty. Penguins mate for life.

He missed her presence. He missed her gaze and playful cynicism with which she was taking his needlessly complicated, painstakingly eloquent confessions and declarations.

("You have my heart in your hands... And it's more fragile than it seems. Be gentle with it." "I like solving puzzles, Oz. If it breaks - we'll piece it back together, it'll look brand new. You know, the Japanese turned fixing broken pots into art...")

Oswald spent long six months on longing, daydreaming and muffling his own fears. When the grand night came, the night of judgement, the night to remember - he hesitated for only the briefest of moments.

(The pebble felt heavy in his pocket, giving him courage with its dead presence. For a moment Oswald felt like he's at her side again.)

He made his decision, putting his doubts off. The potential heartbreak and resulting dilemmas could wait; Oswald had a plan to realize. It wasn't his plan, and Penguin kind of felt like he wasn't even a part of it - but he wasn't going to complain.

In the company of the Joker, Harley Quinn, Two Face, Scarecrow, Deadshot and Poison Ivy Penguin started his tenacious endeavors, meant to take him to Asylum's exit. They spilt a river of blood in the process; but it didn't matter. Penguin knew Charlie doesn't mind the blood on his hands and face. The moment when he'd be able to finally take his beloved into his arms, to hear her voice was only a few hours away.

(I'm coming, my love, I will burn Gotham down if anyone tries to stop me; and then I'll kiss you among the ashes.)

***

In another, better, quieter part of Gotham Charlie Schiller-Aberdeen was watching the news with bated breath. Jack Ryder was reporting on events in Arkham, his voice shaking; a group of prisoners (oh I'm sorry, patients) took the matters in their own hands - among them her beloved.

(Mom, dad... I met somebody. His name is Oswald and he has nothing to his name, nothing but old shame and spilled blood...)

Every day for the past six months Charlie had been beginning her morning with tears, when after opening her eyes she couldn't see her lover next to her. Every day would begin with tears, which Pingu - a Shiba Inu they adopted - would at first try to lick up, doing whatever he could in order to cheer his mom up.

(The dog missed Oswald as well; he was mopish and was spending a lot of time staring at the garage door, as if he was expecting he'll manage to get his second own home by sheer willpower.)

At first they weren't planning to get a dog; they never planned anything. The dog showed up in their life because of Bruce Wayne - a man Oswald hated more than anything was very persistent in his attempts to befriend Charlie, blissfully unaware of who stole her heart. One day she told him that no, he can't come over for tea, because her domesticated penguin won't like her.

"Domesticated penguin?" he repeated, visibly surprised.

"I have a puppy, named Pingu." she improvised quickly. "He hates strangers... Especially men."

Charlie loved Oswald - and she knew he loves her back. She knew that Oswald - a hardened criminal, a boxer, an arms dealer, con artist and a killer - is nothing like her well-behaved husband, whom she killed; Harry had been lying to her for months, hiding his treachery behind a mask of a poor boy with heart of gold. After finding out about her doubts regarding him, Oswald - who wanted to get his fortune back and was prepared to do everything in order to achieve it - almost robbed a bank, just to prove her that no, he's not using her for her fortune, that he wants her, and not her money.

She fell for this monster... Maybe not at a first sight; but for sure at a first "you alright?" when they were in bed for the first time, and he just bit her just a tad too hard and her blood was on his lips, and she winced in pain, and he - still holding her hands above her head, just the way she liked it, just the way he liked it - got up a little and looked her in the eye.)

(When is monster not a monster? Oh... When you love it.)

"Monster", people were calling him when he got arrested; "my beloved" she'd call him in hushed whispers, when nobody could hear her. This murderer was kissing her in the morning and was making her scrambled eggs and was arguing about the second season of Twin Peaks with her and was listening to her emotional thouths on House of Cards. She loved Oswald and all his baggage - all the darkness, all the sins, the past, the future, the present. Maybe he was a monster - but he was her monster. And she knew this beast is not going to hurt her.

(Oswald was proudly parading around with his sins and his darkness exposed; and she preferred it over people who were hiding their demons. She preferred Oswald and his honest "yes, I killed the mayor and I enjoyed every single moment" over Harry Spencer, whose honeyed smile and warm eyes were hiding cold, venomous indifference and greed.)

So when it became clear that Penguin is escaping from Arkham Asylum - that he's coming home (his arms wrapped around her feel like home, his presence fills her with familiar warmth) - Charlie first danced a triumphant dance around her living room, wearing only Oswald's shirt and boxers, slightly confused Pingu jumping and barking around her.

"Oz is coming home, Pingu!" she informed the dog joyfully, to which he tilted his head and wagged his tail. "You hear? Oz is coming back!"

In response, the dog barked.

Next Charlie did some laundry - just in case - and went to the grocery store, where she bought out their entire supply of camembert. Oswald loved camembert; she never understood this love, but something was telling her Arkham never gave him a chance to indulge in his favorite culinary disaster.

(She also bought champagne, strawberries, peanut butter cookies and a whole lot of other things he liked.)

And then... She waited. She waited for the moment when Oz would barge into her home, bringing the smell of danger and death and blood of the innocent with him. She waited to hear his voice and his awful cockney, here and there sprinkled with Polish.

("I grew up among the Poles! They took me in... Apparently by their standards I'm a delight."

"Mmm. Not only by their standards.")

*** Finally the moment came. Oswald - with his heart in his mouth and and his mask under his shoulder and some blood smeared on his face - put his hand on the doorknob and pushed.

The door weren't closed; why would it be? Charlie stopped locking the door the moment she heard about the events at Arkham Asylum.

Pingu grew during those six months; but he still had that familiar spark in his eye and still very obviously loved Oswald a lot, considering how he started to instantly and adamantly demand love and attention from him.

All the lights were turned off in Charlie's home in Crest Hill when Oswald showed up for the first time in six months. He put his mask down on a kitchen table and turned around, to go up the stairs, where he was sure his beloved is, fast asleep-

Charlie was standing at the top of the stairs, staring at Oswald downstairs. Her sight stole the air out of his lungs; she was more beautiful than he remembered, with her hair messy and her eyes sleepy and the skin of her cheek slightly red and her night gown sliding off her right shoulder.

(Oswald Cobblepot was standing downstairs and he was staring at her without a word, blood smudged on his face. He looked almost as beautiful as he did when they first met; moonlight was luminating his face and even from the distance Charlie could see his stubble he loved to tease her skin with and a scar on his nose she loved to kiss and his eyes, focused and serious.)

"Hey, darling." he finally softly said and Charlie ran down the stairs crying and threw herself into his arms, tightly wrapping her arms around his neck and desperately kissed him, not minding the blood and ash he was covered with.

All of Oswald's doubts vanished without a trace when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.

Gotham City was in a state of red alert and the flames were still dancing in Arkham Asylum and Batman was carefully listening to Jim Gordon's every word on the roof of the police station and Joker and Two Face started to argue over leadership in their group of runaways, but none of this mattered, everything could wait till dawn.

"Did you miss me?" Oswald whispered between kisses, to which Charlie scoffed.

"Every day." she whispered back eventually and Penguin smiled with poorly hidden satisfaction.

They were together again, they were still in love and that was all that mattered to them, on their tiny island among the crashing waves.

#telltale batman #dc comics #batman #eng #ff #oc #pinnguin

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