Inevitability

Wounds.

Oswald's POV

"Sir, let me in- Do you know who I am?!"

"For the last time, yes, I know you're Oswald Cobblepot," the large man says to me. He must be a sort of bodyguard- he won't let me in the building. My patience is gone. If he won't move, I'll make him move.

"Yeah- that's my name. I'm giving you one last chance-"

I see two gloved fingers tap the man on the shoulder. He looks back, nods, and walks out of my way.

"You can go in now."

I scoff and quickly go into the building, avoiding eye contact with others glaring until a familiar voice chokes up words behind me.

"Oswald."

I turn, already knowing that the person behind me is none other than Edward Nygma. But I haven no time for his games right now.

"Where's Leslie?" I spit.

He seems almost shocked at the fact that I didn't acknowledge his presence.

"She's out," he replies.

"Well, who the hell is taking her place right now? It's urgent...." My voice trails off as I turn back to search for someone to tend to Martin. I shouldn't be conversing with the baffoon who mocks me day after day in this dump.

"I am." Edward says. "Meet me downstairs in the doc's office; don't let anyone see you. Everyone hates you."

That was blunt.

He rushes past me.

It's my only choice....

-

With Martin bleeding in my arms, I'm entering the building again, this time sticking to the walls and shadows until I find my way to medical help. This is anything but ideal, but Ed has to help- if he's willing to do so without any tricks. This is all so strange, but I can't be thinking about that now; Martin is all that matters at the moment.

The door's open. I walk in to find Ed leaning on a counter holding medical tools in his hands.

I place Martin on top of the cushioned platform in the center of the room, making sure to apply minimal pressure to his leg.

Ed sucks air between his teeth at the sight of the wound, but then gives a half-smile.

"I'll help you out, kid."

Ed never liked children. He told me so when we visited the school for mayoral purposes. I had agreed with him, that children were nothing but trouble. That statement still stands true. This is pretty deep trouble.

It seems very odd that Ed is willing to help a child out, especially without asking questions. But what's even more curious is the fact that he didn't hesitate to do this, knowing that it's what I want, and there isn't anything he can benefit from.

Wait, that's probably it- he's expecting something in return, isn't-

"Oswald?" he asks.

"What?"

"Um, well, the kid's going to be okay. You were lost in thought for a long time, I suppose. I cleaned him up, took the bullet out and stitched his thigh. He's rather quiet."

I give him a blank stare, then look towards Martin. He's laying down with his eyes closed.

"The pain medicine, it's drowsy. I swear that's all it is."

"Yeah, you'd better swear that's all it is," I whisper.

Ed clears his throat. "Anyways," he continues, "You need to be patched up as well. Sit here." He pulls up a chair from the corner of the room and sets it in front of where he stands.

"No," I reply. "I don't need your help."

"Oh really? Seems to me that I've already helped you by saving that kid."

"Whatever; exactly. I don't want anything more, especially from you."

"Sit down already, Oswald."

I scoff, but my feet seem to move themselves as I limp towards Ed's direction and lower myself into the seat.

"How do I know I can trust you right now?" I ask.

"Like I said, I helped you, so-"

"Do you want something from me? Why are you helping me?" I demand.

"I... Take your coat off."

"What?" My face burns up a bit.

"So I can fix your wound."

"Oh." I do as he says.

He avoided my questions.

Ed undoes the first two buttons of my shirt. My mental instinct is to smack him, but I remain frozen in place. He pulls the bloody material carefully down my arm, exposing the bullet wound and some of my bare chest.

I'm now feeling the pain, it's all rushing into my system and all I can do is clench my teeth.