#WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SHE GOT PARALYZED SAVING THE JOKER

[howtheworldcouldb]

Everything I learn about the Young Justice TV show brings me closer and closer to committing homicide. Yes this is about Cassandra Cain.

#ALSO BARBARA #WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SHE GOT PARALYZED SAVING THE JOKER #THE FUCK IS THAT #i am so angry I physically cannot keep learning things about this show #young justice #young justice tv #yj #cassandra cain #young justice phantoms #I watched the first two seasons of that show and Jesus CHRIST am I glad I DIDN’T WATCH THE RENEWED SEASONS #barbara gordon #orphan dc #black bat #batgirl #WHY IS SHE USING A SWORD #‘her vocal cords were damaged and so had to rely on body language’ my guy sign language is a thing #this feels weirdly ableist and I cannot explain why #LADY SHIVA RAISING HER IN THE LEAGUE?? #fuck u #also M’gann and Conner getting married after she. you know. violated his mind privacy and autonomy #yeah that was #that’s it for me #also Steph deserves better #no one in that show is likable anymore #everything sucks #where is the light #where are my non-plot related episodes #it’s like if you took everything bad about comics and condensed it into half an hour

[catxsnow]

HANGING UP THE COWL T.D.

Request:  Can you please do a Damain(or tim) x reader where the reader( who was a vigilante) is forced to retire because fight with Joker gone wrong. The reader being stubborn still wants to fight but has to come to a realization in the end they cannot fight on the field.

Warning: Joker’s usual antics, angst

A/N: I did Tim for this just because I thought it flowed a little better with him! Thanks for sending this in I hope you like it! 

I’M ALMOST CAUGHT UP ON WRITING REQUESTS 

Word Count: 2k

You knew the Joker never played by the rules.

He was the bad of bad's, crazier than anyone, and didn't think twice about killing anyone that got in his way. Well, you had gotten in his way, lots, and that didn't end well for you.

After knowing what happened to Jason and Barbra, you should have known that anyone was at the Joker's will to get traumatized next. Jason died, Barbra paralyzed, you didn't think that anyone could get it worse than them. You had gotten off lucky - and that was saying something.

Joker had gotten you when you didn't expect it. After weeks of tracking his moves and trying to figure out what he was up to next, you weren't even slightly aware that he was watching you the whole time. The second that he put his 'plan' into action, you were there. It was stupid to go alone - and it was more stupid to think that Joker was actually going through with something that made sense.

It was a trap for you, and it changed your life forever. Joker had taken away your life - maybe not as literal as Jason's - but he had taken your ability to be the hero you always were. You were lucky, Barbra was trapped in a chair forever, you were only there for a couple months. He had broken you just enough that you would never be able to continue your life along Batman.

Your knees would have a permanent brace for the rest of your life. No amount of surgeries would ever bring you back to your feet, which meant you could never play sports, be a vigilante, or partake in any part of life that you once craved. You weren't the same, and everyone saw it. Tim saw it.

Tim Drake was with you through it all. He watched as you tried to keep yourself together, get strength to become healthy, and cry yourself to sleep at night. He was the one that found you in that warehouse and the one to stay by your hospital bed every night. Tim wasn't going to let you out of his sight.

The two of you were dating far before the incident had happened. You knew that if you could make it through your darkest time with him, you could make it through everything. That didn't stop your arguments though. You wanted to get back in the game, you wanted to prove that you were just as good as you once were.

Tim never wanted to see you in that suit again. He didn't want to be reminded of what happened to you or that it could just as easily happen again. He knew that you would never be back in the shape that you were years ago, as much as you wished you could be.

Thousands of dollars were spent on surgery's, replacements, anything that would help you. And a lot of it did, it helped you with day to day movements but nothing as strenuous as working with Batman. You still tried. You tried so hard to keep doing your job. The city needed you, and you could barely help yourself.

Trying to be the hero you once were and failing hurt you more than Joker ever could. Tim watched as you broke yourself down every day trying to do what you used to. He didn't want you to give up, but he couldn't watch you fail anymore. It broke his heart.

Every time you tried to go back out there, it only lead to more pain, more knee problems, and more surgeries. You tried to keep fighting in the streets of Gotham but it was doing you more harm than good. Bruce tried to get you to quit, he was tired of having to see you in recovery because you couldn't move like you used to.

The two of you used to be unstoppable. Every mission that you were on together had always been a success. Even Bruce was shocked to see how incredible the two of you worked together, it was like you were made just for this. Being partners on the field had sparked your dating life.

Part of you felt that maybe if you could no longer be his partner against crime, he wouldn't feel the same way for you anymore. This was Tim you were talking about, he was never like this, yet it still struck fear in you. That was part of the reason you tried so hard to get back out there - you wanted things to stay the same with him.

Dick was far past concerned about your health. He was the one who had to save you when you were down and the one to bring you back home only to be bedridden for weeks again. He knew you couldn't keep this up any longer but he didn't dare try to tell you that. Not after the reaction that you had given Damian.

Damian tried to stop you from going out there again. You were healed rather well but it was only months ago that you weren't. He was ready to put you on your ass if that meant that you were safe at home. Damian learned that you too, were good with swords and knives. You didn't mean to stab him, but he also learned his lesson not to get in your way.

"Baby," Tim called for you. It was just the two of you down in the bat cave. Tim was hunched over the computer while you were trying to train like you used to. He froze in his spot when he heard you cry out, followed by a loud thump. You were on the ground, arms covering your face but obvious frustration rolling off you.

The brace on your knee stood out like a sore thumb. It was bulky, ugly, and refrained your movements half the time. You were so tempted to take it off but you knew too well that you wouldn't make it three steps without it, much less trying to practice your fighting.

It was killing you not to be able to do simple training anymore. You felt weak, like you couldn't do anything on your own ever again. Tim babied you even though you were as healed as you were ever going to be. He just wanted what was best for you.

Tim knelt down beside you. His hand barely grazing your back before you pushed him away and abruptly stood up. For a while now, you had the bad habit of pushing him away. You knew that he meant best, but you didn't want his pity. You just wanted things back to where they were.

"(Y/N)," Tim tried again. Defeat was evident in his voice, he was tired of this routine. You trying to do the impossible, getting hurt, and Tim trying to comfort you when you only pushed him away. He was tired of seeing you push him away when he was only trying to help you.

"I can do this!" You shouted, unsure if it was to convince him, or yourself.

"No, you can't" Tim's voice was soft, devastated. You had barely caught what he said, but the words rang loudly through your mind. Even he believed you couldn't do this. The one person you always relied on, the one person who held you tight and promised everything would be okay, didn't believe you could.

Truth be told, you knew this. Deep down in your heart you knew that you would never get back to your place as a hero. Part of you always knew, but whether it was sheer stubbornness or determination, you never gave up. You didn't think Tim would give up on you either.

"I'm tired of seeing you hurt about this. I want you to be back like you were, of course I fucking do. It's been years that you've been trying, years of being so fucking brave. It's time... it's time to realize that maybe you're out for good."

"No," you harshly spoke. You refused to believe that you were supposed to give up. Tears stung at your eyes at the idea of it all. You were supposed to be just as good as Batman one day - maybe take on the mantle yourself. Those dreams were ruined, everything in your life was ruined because of the Joker.

Tim reached out to you. He pulled your close before reaching up to wipe the tears that fell down your cheeks. There was nothing more that he hated than seeing you like this. Tim knew that you were going to struggle lots after the incident, but he also knew that he would never give up on you.

"I love you, more than anything or anyone. I hate seeing you like this, I hate seeing you get your hopes up just to be disappointed again. All I want for you is for you to be happy again, and you're never going to be able to do that until you accept that this legacy isn't possible anymore.

"Even if it was, how long would it last? Weeks, months? A year? The Joker knew just how to break you, and if you keep trying to get back at him like this... he's going to win. I know you want to get back at him, but this isn't the way," Tim tried to reason with you. He was trying to be gentle about this, but it didn't make your heart ache any less.

"I-I," You stuttered over your words. Tears fell faster down your cheeks and you felt like an absolute mess in front of your boyfriend. He wasn't give up on you, he was trying to find you another way - just like he always did with that big brain of his. "I feel like if I give up on this I'm giving up on everything."

"You know that's not what's happening," Tim assured. He pecked your lips and pulled you into a tight embrace. Just the touch of him calmed you down. For years he had been the one watching over you, making sure that you were safe. You loved that about him, you loved everything about him.

"Look, whatever you choose to do, you know that I'm gonna be there, right beside you," Tim promised. He was trying to stay strong for you, but seeing you like this nearly brought his own tears. "You know what's best for yourself, it's your choice."

"I need some time, Timmy," your voice was muffled from being tucked into the crook of his neck. "It's just, it's hard going through this."

"Maybe talk to Barbra, she's the one person that really understands what you're going through," Tim offered. You had talked to her several times about what had happened to you. You always went to her with a strong headed idea that you would continue her legacy. Maybe this time, she could give you a different kind of perspective of what you should do.

"I love you, Tim," You sighed into his skin once more before pulling away to look up into his eyes. As always, they held reassurance and love for you. "You're the best thing to happen to me. I couldn't have gotten through all this without you."

"Of course you could have," Tim half smiled. "You're the strongest person I know. You were always meant for great things, I knew that from the moment I met you. Hang up the cowl, live a life that the rest of us are never going to get the chance to have."

"You're my life, Tim. No matter where you are, I'm there," you told him. "Even if I decide to hang it up, that doesn't mean that I can't help. Barbra helps Dick all the time, god knows where he'd be right now if it wasn't for her. I'm gonna be by your side for the rest of your life, it's just a matter of how."

"As long as you're there, I don't care how."

#tim drake #tim drake imagine #tim drake one shot #tim drake x reader #red robin #red robin imagine #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc #angst #batfam #batfam imagine #batfam one shot

[nightcoremoon]

so for the first time I saw batman: the killing joke.

...

it was okay I guess. but massively overrated. I expected some fucking masterpiece of cinema but instead it was just two unrelated short films that were more style and flash than substance.

so first off, barbara's storyline was mediocre. franz wasn't a compelling villain; just a creep, and a trust fund brat. oh wow he's a mafia kid who stole his family's fortune by hacking. if it was the falcone family I'd have cared more but it wasn't so it's just some faceless deathfodder rando. who gives a shit. the whole situation was just a vehicle to shove batman's dick into babs. which kinda fucks over bruce's character here and judging by the timeline kinda makes him a bit of a groomer, yikes. bruce and gordon have known each other since bruce was a young boy and we know that bruce is way older than babs so yeah bruce totally knew her from birth until present day, he literally utilized an active power dynamic to police her crimefighting activities, and he should have fucking known better and stopped her when she kissed him because it would (and did) compromise their professional dynamic, but hey, batdick. and at least barbara recognized that she was behaving emotionally rather than logically when it came to bruce and paris and took the high road out. that would be a serviceable standalone episode to write her on a bus in a serialization but THIS IS A MOVIE. so for a waste of an already short runtime it's like having an appetizer before your meal but instead of something like a crab cake before stuffed flounder, you get greasy onion petals that are more fried batter than onion before getting a well done cheeseburger that's just a glorified hockey puck on a sponge with a kraft single on top. the animation and vocal delivery were excellent of course, not gonna disparage that aspect, so it was well made, but the writing was just not very good. a polished turd. quantic dream must have developed it then because it feels like I watched a david cage production.

so in a 78 minute movie, five of which were the credits, we had a half hour Disney/Pixar short except those bring joy and this brought boring. also there were a lot of shots of her ass tits and underwear that were obnoxiously male-gazey and there was a token gay for the sole purpose of dangling a carrot on a stick for the queers. look kids, warner brothers and dc comics cares about the lgbts! give us money! a waste of time before the real reason why anyone came to see the movie that literally only exists to pad out the runtime to make it a feature length (even though paying a full ticket would've been a total ripoff because, again, IT WAS ONLY 78. even 9 was 81 minutes long and that had an amazing storyline so I forgave it, but 78 minutes? ugh.

also, GOTHAM RAGE??? CRINGE. SO CRINGE.

alright now for the joker segment.

*ahem*

what the fuck? that sucked! *throws tomato*

mark hamill and the joker's lines and the art and the cinematography and the choreography was all good and the plot was cohesive. I get it.

but holy shit was the writing weak as fuck.

okay so some rando breaks the J-ster out of Arkham (already unlikely but ugh whatever), he didn't turn a trick or recruit or anything, he just went to purchase a carnival. or, steal one. but wait, he DID recruit, but he went to get all of the stereotypical Circus Freak™ stereotypes. little people, fat lady, bearded lady, wolf man, strongman, diaper man (wait, what?), and the two headed woman. I guess if you don't really think about why all of them were super readily available in the outskirts between arkham and gotham [i just realized they both end with -am] then it makes enough sense. and then literally right after that HE RECRUITS SOME GUYS TO HELP HIM KIDNAP GORDON. and then strips and photographs barbara. um. ew. you can tell the writer and director were men. Alan Moore is constantly molesting women in his comics and this one trick pony should be put down already. but whatever. the plot is weak and it only gets saved by the flashback sequences.

oh.

oh no.

they're not that great.

he's a failed unfunny comedian who just wants some money to move his wife to a better house so he turns to thievery with the mob. OR YOU COULD JUST STOP GOING TO THE BAR AND BLOWING IT ALL ON BOOZE. I mean the cops knew where to find him after all so clearly he's a repeat customer (or moore is a bad plot writer who relies on convenience and shut the fuck up and don't critically analyze it). alright so he gets wrapped up in the mob to perform a heist on a playing card factory. GET IT, BECAUSE HE'S THE JOKER??? and he uses the moniker of the red hood to retain his anonymity. I expected the mobsters to be working for francisco but no the paris storyline was only cooked up screenplay for passing the runtime so why would they do something clever and interesting and make the film cohesive? that'd be really stupid to make the movie feel more like one movie and not two short films. at least when grindhouse & planet terror did it they advertised themselves as an anthology film. whatever. he falls in the vat of acid which melts the red hood to his face and I gotta say that's actually a pretty good idea to get his face white and his hair green and his lips red. I like that part. oh wait I forgot about the most important part! his wife gets shoved in the refrigerator. OH WOW THAT'S JUST SO COMPELLING AND ORIGINAL, TOTALLY NOT SOMETHING THAT ALREADY HAPPENED TO GREEN LANTERN. TWICE. although she wasn't literally shoved into a literal refrigerator like alex was. rip in frozen pieces you absolute legend of a trope namer. alright, so... so the joker is sad because his wife died. you know, the wife we saw for two minutes and knew the moment we saw her drenched in sepia she was gonna die. and she died offscreen. kyle's gf died and he was fine. gordon's wife died and he was fine. batman's parents both died and he was fine. oh boo hoo someone I love died! fuck off. I am so goddamn sick of people trying to justify their evil with "I was sad once". it's a stupid trope and it's not compelling. the only valid version is doctor doofenshmirtz' evil(er) version in the PF movie because it's hilarious that it's because of a toy train because that's the emotional depth that fridgewomen is treated with in all of these storylines. but at least batman said so. oh yeah, I almost totally forgot, batman's in this movie.

batman punches people and nonlethally takes them out. by suffocating them and letting them get stabbed and throwing them into pits of spikes and HEY WAIT A GODDAMN SECOND! okay let's just ignore that bit and hope that the little people squeezed between the gaps in the spikes and the strongman could breathe in the face mask and the two headed women had KO gas and the fat lady was fat enough that the knives only stabbed her cellulite. it wouldn't be the biggest reach one would have to make in watching this fucking disaster of a plot mess.

now I did like that it was actually batman, and by that I mean he gave a shit about the insane because he recognizes that mental illness is not a cause of dangerous or criminal behavior, just a potential exacerbating factor if it wasn't treated. yeah he brutalized mobsters and crime lords but they were mostly in self defense while gathering intel. he politely asked sal maroni and the sex workers for information and they gave it to him without violence- he manhandled maroni but only after he reached into his pocket for a cigar which could've been a gun. also batman says sex work should be decriminalized if only by not ratting them out to the cops. he was a genuinely good person in the second half of the movie. too bad it was ruined by the shitty first half that made him a borderline groomer.

joker's song was... bad. mark hamill performed his ass off but the song wasn't that good. it just tried to be willy wonka if he was a voyeuristic monster. oh yeah have the only girl character be paralyzed stripped and photographed only to give her father ManPain™. again... the fuck? joker and batman were both gross but, again. male writers. if it was a one-off I could drop a thermian argument because, alright one and done makes sense, especially 1988 standards. but it saturated and soured the entire goddamn movie because of abhorrent pacing decisions. so you're goddamn right I'm gonna bring it up twice! joker was a creep, his plan was dumb, nolan and burton and lord/miller and even ayer had better motivations. YES I AM SAYING THAT JARED LETO'S JOKER HAD BETTER WRITING THAN MARK HAMILL'S JOKER. not nearly to the level of ledger nicholson or galifanakis but hamill didn't have a lot to work with here and I maintain that his performance was amazing; honestly I like his the best out of all of them but just... not here. but I think I can cut some slack to firelord ozai and luke skywalker even if he just phoned it in here which he didn't. writing was just weak. and that's all there is to it. don't anon me and threaten to remove my bones ok?

alright so batman and joker fought and joker got the upper hand and was gonna kill him but it was a prop gun. haha. they had a heart to heart and batman tells joker that he wants to help him get better, even after joker killed robin and molested barbara and traumatized gordon and did countless other travesties, he still said he would help. but joker said no, and told a joke that was good enough to make batman laugh. and then the credits rolled.

...

what a completely pointless and empty ending. oh it's deep and meaningful and poignant? ok sure, I guess, movie, but you didn't earn that. shyamalan did the same thing a dozen times. that doesn't make him any less of a shit writer.

I can understand the concept of batman laughing at joker's joke, humanizing him.

I get it. I see what they tried to do. I respect it.

but this movie was massively overhyped and overrated and I expected it to be so much better than it was. but overall to me it was just another batman cartoon to throw on top of the pile. maybe it was influential to graphic novels. maybe it shaped batman into what he is today. it published right as tim burton's movie and I can respect its place in the pantheon of comic history. but sometimes things that are classic...

aren't that great.

citizen kane, casablanca, the maltese falcon, the treasure of the sierra madre, gone with the wind, singing in the rain, all of them are classic and legendary pieces of art. but they're just not that good, interesting, appealing, watchable, or FUN. they were good at the time- I mean come on we all know them today- but on going back you'd have to really appreciate the finer details to still love the movies today. and this belongs there, in the vault, to be appreciated from afar. influential if dated.

but god am I still disappointed nonetheless.

TL;DR

it was just okay. had some good ideas, had some really bad ideas, had some ugly stuff. overall mediocre. first half 5/10, second half 7/10, overall 6/10.

[iv-kplpt]

bad days, good nights

plot summary: she moved to gotham looking for a new start. he leads a double life - as a brutal vigilante and as a broke pizza delivery guy. she falls in love with both of them. whoops. or: the one that got out of control.

rated m just to be safe (very vague nsfw and gore)

~9,6k words

Charlie had been in Gotham for less than three months when she first met the Penguin - city's most brutal vigilante, surpassing even the Batman in his ruthlesness. He was not afraid to get his hands dirty, he was not above killing and he was infuriatingly elusive; no one had the slightest clue as to who's hiding behind the mask and under the suit. No one knew who's pulling the trigger. There was no name, no face; only distorted voice and a weird sense of justice.

She moved to the city looking for a fresh start - her first and only marriage ended in an ugly, messy way. New York was forever ruined for her - those were the streets she walked with Harry, this was the park where they kissed, this was the church where they married. She couldn't stand those familiar streets, those noises; and Gotham City had a reputation of a place willing to give anyone a second chance. Her father used to go to school there and he remembered those times fondly; so she packed her things, her scars, her grief - and took it to the city of second chances.

She wasn't bothered by Gotham's rather peculiar problem with masked villains and vigilantes - no place on Earth is perfect, after all. New York also had its fair share of problems; and she kind of admired the Bat. He was on national news from time to time; he was the symbol of Gotham.

But only after moving there she found out about the Penguin.

"That guy's a freak." Louise - her new friend - told her one evening, as they were having a girls' night out. "Also he makes my life hell."

"Oh yeah?" Charlie asked, playing with an olive from her martini and politely ignoring a guy who's been eyeing her from across the room. "Do tell."

"Well, for starters, he keeps killing people my people are looking for. He just... Kills them. No trial, no warning - bam. He's the judge and the executioner."

"Sounds to me like he's doing your job for you." Charlie said jokingly and Louise scoffed.

"Oh puh-lease. And then there's this fucking Batman dude, right? He's our top priority - so Grogan firmly refuses on giving resources to poor losers forced to look for the bird mask guy. And this list of losers... Includes me."

"Hey, speak of the devil." Charlie said, glancing at a tv screen behind the bar. "He just did something."

"Yeah. Fuck!" Louise groaned, looking at her phone. "I just got a text from Dent."

"I keep forgetting you work directly under him, you know." Charlie sighed, thinking about Gotham's handsome, ambicious district attorney. "Is he nice?"

"He's the nicest fucking man in whole wide Gotham." Louise muttered in response, typing her reply. "And I mean it. He's a delight."

"You should introduce me some day."

"Don't hit on my superior, Charlie."

"Why not? He's cute."

"And you are freshly divorced and don't know anyone else in Gotham. Leave Dent alone, we'll find you someone not married to his job. Deal?"

"Deal."

And Louise kept her side of the bargain - mostly. She did her best to introduce Charlie to Gotham social elite; and Charlie was slowly settling down, feeling more and more at home, despite being unable to find anyone who'd actually catch her eye. There was Bruce Wayne, who was very polite, very popular and very boring; there was Katherine Kane, who was very beautiful, very intelligent and very disinterested in fancy parties; and other people, whose names Charlie was slowly learning.

But all in all, Gotham was treating her well - she bought a beautiful house in Crest Hill, Gotham's prestigious suburban neighborhood. She made a few friends, and found some interesting places; she enjoyed Gotham's melody and rhytm and the way its streets and people accepted her as one of their own almost instantly. And it seemed like the whole masked villains thing had been blown out of proportions; at least until that one memorable fundraiser she attended.

It was Harvey Dent's fundraiser; he was running for mayor and he needed funds for his campaign, as his private pockets were not bottomless. Everything was smooth and dandy - and then the Joker showed up.

What did he want? What was his purpose? Nobody could tell, but everyone was afraid of this pale faced, smiling man; his sweetened words and little jokes were intemingled with brutality and sadism and he was unpredictable and destructive like a forest fire.

He showed up. He terrorized the party.

He took Charlie hostage, actually. He spotted her in the crowd, paralyzed next to the table and grinned, as if he knew she's not from around there, as if he somehow smelled new blood. But he knew; and there she was, paralyzed with fear, the Joker putting a gun to her head and cheerfully talking about how beautiful the evening is. And she was shaking and was holding back tears and she could spot Louise and Dent in the crowd, motionless, helpless.

She was sure this is it, this is the end; he'd probably kill her on spot or - even worse - take her with him and then break her, piece by piece, the way he liked to.

(Everyone knew what he does to pretty girls. It involved needles and crowbars and knives. He was leaving shattered people behind and was eluding everyone; the police, Batman, Penguin. All that was left was a trail of blood and tears.)

But he never got to do it to her; or to anyone else.

He dropped dead, half his head missing, a lot of his blood and brain tissue splattered in Charlie's hair; Penguin managed to sneak in and shoot him from the side, killing him instantly.

She slowly turned her head and looked at the suited vigilante, who was calmly reloading his gun, his mask perfectly expressionless, his outfit absolutely impeccable.

(He was making this yellow tie work.)

"Terribly sorry about your hair." he finally said, completely ignoring everyone else. "But that was my only chance to take a shot without the bullet going through you as well. Are you alright?"

"I need a drink." Charlie replied softly and fainted, falling right into Penguin's arms; he caught her and - before drifting away - she thought he actually smells nice, like good cologne and-

*** She woke up in a hospital room; and as soon as she opened her eyes, Louise barged in, followed by detective Bullock and Dent, the latter very apologetic, the former very tired.

They had questions; and she didn't have any answers. She saw what they saw, and knew what they knew, if not less; why would the Penguin want Joker dead? Why wouldn't he?

"What happened after I passed out?" she eventually interrupted them. "Did he escape?"

"...don't tell me one murder was all it took to turn you into a fan." Bullock muttered and Louise shot him a tired look. "What? She's worried about him, just look at her!"

"He saved my life, didn't he?"

"He did." Louise agreed reluctantly. "Well, after you fainted... He carried you to a back room. And then Batman showed up. And they... Did their thing. Lots and lots of collateral damage."

(Batman and Penguin - despite having a similar goal - were not at all friends. Batman didn't approve of Penguin's murderous tendencies; and Penguin didn't approve of Batman's no killing rule. They lacked understanding. They often had to relieve some tension by beating the crap out of each other.)

"We will be keeping an eye on you for some time." Dent informed her. "Just to make sure... You're fine. Will you tell us if he ever reaches out to you?"

"Of course." she assured him, not believing a single word she was saying. "I will."

(The thought of Penguin carrying her in his strong arms filled her with a warm fuzz. He saved her life! He made his stupid mask look good with a suit! And then he carried her, after she fainted! It sounded to good to be true. It sounded dreamy. It sounded cliche.)

"Please tell me you don't have a crush on him." Louise asked her the moment they were left alone and Charlie blinked innocently.

"What?"

"Oh, don't play dumb, you know what I mean."

"I feel like I owe him something, that's all." Charlie said, choosing her words carefully. "Hey, do you think I can go home now?"

"Just let the doctor check if everything's alright and you're free like a bird." Louise said slowly, staring her down. "Like a very flightless bird."

"...oh come on."

"Please don't make my job more difficult than it already is."

They let her go few hours later; it was dawning when she got home.

And something... Was definitely wrong - starting with the fact her front door was open; and she knew she had locked it before leaving.

She should have called the police; but instead - lead by morbid curiosity - simply went in.

Penguin was in her living room, on her couch. And he was bleeding.

"Evening." he said after realizing she's standing in the doorway, with her keys still in hand, staring at him. "Is this... Your house?"

She nodded and he let out a quiet chuckle, interrupted with a pained groan.

"Small world." he said finally. "Hey. Do you know... First aid?"

"I know a lot more." she said, slowly putting her purse down. "My mother's... A surgeon."

"Really?" he asked, as she approached the coach, turning the lights on on her way there. "Then I guess it's my lucky day."

"I wasn't expecting to repay the favor so soon, mister Penguin." she said, kneeling down. "I have to take a look at this."

(Stab wounds. And probably a broken rib or two.)

"I'll patch you up." she said, getting up, his blood on her coat. "I'll be... Right back. Don't move."

"Oh, very funny." he scoffed and she turned around, hiding her smile. "Make it snappy, eh? I'd hate to bleed out in your living room."

She cleaned up his wounds and patched him up as much as she could; she was no surgeon. She was an amateur.

But it seemed to be enough and Penguin visibly calmed down and relaxed. Even with his mask on, she could feel his eyes on her hands.

"What's your name?" he asked eventually.

"Charlie." she replied quietly, looking up. "Alright, that's it. That's all I can do."

"And it seems to be just enough." he said in response, looking down on his bandaged chest. "You are a very literal lifesaver, Charlie."

"Well, so are you." she said, getting up and stretching. "I guess... I should thank you. For today."

"That's my job, isn't it? Killing the bad guys, saving the good guys. And... Once again... So sorry about your hair."

"They got it all out in the hospital. Though... I think I can still feel it." she confessed with a shudder. "His blood. On my skin."

"Well, it's a good thing you can feel. It means you're alive."

"Is that you trying to convince yourself to not worry about being in pain?"

Penguin laughed and her heart skipped a beat.

"Maybe." he admitted finally. "Can I uh... Stay here for a few hours? I think... I need some sleep."

"Of course." she said softly. "I will... Bring you a blanket."

"Thank you, love."

He fell asleep before she came back, and she stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at him; he kept his mask on and she was sure it's uncomfortable as hell. She gently brushed it with her fingertips, wondering who's hiding behind it.

He muttered something, as she covered him with her favorite blanket; very fuzzy and very blue.

Before heading to bed - she was dead tired herself - she left a note on the table, right next to his gun (she was sure it's the same gun he used to get rid of the Joker once and for all); she asked him to not wake her up and to not leave without eating something first.

When she woke up - around noon - he was gone, leaving behind only dried up blood and some breadcrumbs on her kitchen table.

He ate her bagels. And her cream cheese. But she didn't mind; neither she was concerned about all the blood.

She didn't have any energy for going out and being social that day; so she ordered a pizza. There was a decent pizza place nearby; and the truth was, she wasn't actually that big of a fan of their food. It was definitely good, but she didn't even like pizza all that much; but they had a delivery guy with the most beautiful face she had ever seen.

His name was Oswald. He was tall, very, very handsome - in this rugged, nonchalant way she secretly loved - spoke with awful British accent and she simply loved looking at him. And listening to him. She was sure his politeness and cheesy humor he was always greeting her with were coming from the fact she was a rich customer, who tipped well; but she enjoyed it regardless.

Also for quite some time she had been wondering how to ask him out without making it weird. He seemed to be into her; more than once she caught him glancing at her skin, more or less flustered.

(Part of her wanted to hold hands and go for a walk with him. Another part of her wanted him to push her against a wall and make her beg. It was complicated.)

But, alas, it was not her lucky day; Oswald wasn't working that day, as the delivery girl - April - informed her.

"He does say hi though." she added with a giggle and Charlie's heart - for the second time that day - skipped a beat. "He called in and he said he has a feeling you're going to be ordering today and he asked whoever will be delivering to tell you he says hi."

"Really?" she asked softly. "Please tell him I said hi as well."

"Will do!" April assured her, pocketing the generous tip. "Have a good day!"

And Charlie was left alone with a big cheese pizza she didn't even like and a quickly beating heart.

*** During the following weeks, she met Penguin few more times.

Every time he was acting the same - courteous. A bit snarky. Ruthless to bad guys. Very apologetic, if their meeting was taking place on her couch, where he was bleeding and she was patching him up.

"You should get yourself a doctor." she muttered during one of those nights, and he snickered under the mask.

"Why, are you getting tired of me?"

"No, but one day I'll be unable to help. I'm not a miracle worker."

"You do work miracles on me, Charlie." he claimed and she sighed. "Also, I enjoy your company."

"Oh really? That's a smart move, being nice to someone patching you up."

(Her humor was a facade, behind which her joy was hiding. He seemingly didn't notice.)

"I'm dead serious, Charlie. I enjoy our time together... Plus you didn't rat me out, despite being under McDonagh's watchful eye."

(He said our. She liked that, more than she probably should.)

"Louise's a friend." she said, taking her gloves off. "She worries about me."

"Tell me about your life." he said suddenly, as she was walking to the kitchen.

"There's not much to talk about." she said carefully, washing her hands in the sink. "Really."

"Well, then tell me about those few things that are there." he said, right behind her, and she jumped in place; he quietly followed her to the kitchen and was standing right behind her. "I'm... Interested."

He was half naked and for the first time she had a good occasion to take an actual look at him. He had a body of someone whose fighting style was all about agility and speed; he was lean, and his muscles weren't bulky.

He did have beautiful arms though.

"Are you going to just stare at me in silence until I go away?" he asked amused and she blinked a few times. "Because it's not going to work. Just tell me to piss off."

"Sorry." she muttered, turning to the sink again and pouring herself a glass of water. "Right. What do you want to know?"

"Everything's you're willing to share, I suppose."

"I'm an only child." she started slowly, sitting on the table; he sat on the floor, groaning quietly, his back against the wall. "My family... Well. Old money from New York. Nothing very original. I moved here about... Five months ago? Yeah, five."

"And why did you come here?"

"Because I wanted a fresh start." she said shortly. "Personal matters."

"Ah. I symphatize. And... How's this old hag of a city treating you?"

"I've got nothing to complain about. People are... Mostly nice. Though I still have yet to meet Batman."

"He's an asshole." Penguin informed her calmly and she giggled. "But that's my opinion, after getting my ass handed to me by him several times."

"Well, I'm not going to fight him, I just want to look at him. See if he's really as scary as people claim he is."

"He's not." Penguin said shortly. "He's just a man, dressed up as a bat... Can be scary, if you're afraid of bats. Or men."

(She saw Harry's face for a brief moment. Then Oswald's.)

"Men don't scare me. Some of you are... Pretty alright."

"Oh?" Penguin asked, tilting his head slightly. "Got someone specific in mind?"

"There's this pizza delivery guy..." she said absentmindedly. "Oswald. Oswald... Something. He's funny. I like him."

"Then ask him out." Penguin said calmly and she laughed, realizing it's past midnight and she's sitting on her kitchen table, telling her life story to Gotham's most blood-soaked vigilante. "Hey! What's so funny?"

"Nothing! Nothing. But yeah, I might do that. Is there someone in your life, bird guy?"

"Ah, you know I can't tell you that." he said, shaking his head. "The less you know about me, the better for you."

"You're probably right." she agreed sadly. "But come on. Give me something vague."

"Well, there is somebody." he said slowly and - for some reason - her heart dropped. "We're working on it. And that's all I can tell you."

"I hope you'll make it work." she said quietly, getting up. "I'm going to bed. You can have the couch."

"Thank you, my fair lady." he said, nodding in her direction as she left, oddly determined to ask Oswald for his number the next time she sees him, so next time Penguin crashes in her living room she can tell him about this wonderful man she started seeing.

Batman paid her a visit the next night.

She just finished cleaning Penguin's blood off her floor; she's been scrubbing it for almost an hour - and when she got up and turned around, Batman was there, in her living room, staring at her quietly.

He looked very unsettling in the bright light of her lamp.

"Spilled something?" he asked in his signature, deep, growly voice as she stared at him in disbelief.

"Yeah." she replied finally, slowly sitting down in a nearby chair. "Yeah."

Batman. In her living room. Right.

"I know Penguin was here." Batman said calmly, staring her down.

"Who?" she asked, deciding to play dumb.

(She promised herself she won't rat Penguin out. Not to Louise. Not to the police. Not to Batman.)

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." Batman informed her and she winced. "But you have to stop protecting him."

"I'm not protecting anyone though."

"...I'm going to ignore this as well. I know he visits you often, and I know you've been helping him. Why?"

He stared at her, and in the heavy silence she suddenly remembered all the blood he had spilt, all the bones he had broken.

"He saved my life, you know." she said with a shrug. "From the Joker. And it's... More than can be said about certain other people."

"I can't be in two places at the same time."

"And where were you?" she asked, staring at him. "No. Don't answer that, it doesn't matter. What matters is that... Penguin helped."

"And now you're helping him."

"I'm not." she lied again. "All I'm doing is... Voicing my support for the cause."

"This is pointless." Batman muttered and took a step in her direction and she was very, very close to a heart attack-

but Penguin always knew how to make an entrance.

"Batsy!" he said with false enthusiasm, stepping into her house and glancing at Batman. "What on Earth brings you here?"

"Cut the crap, Penguin." Batman said quietly, for a moment turning his attention away from petrified Charlie.

"She has nothing to do with it, Bats." Penguin said, abandoning his false joviality. "Leave her out of it. She knows nothing, she saw nothing... What's your policy regarding innocent bystanders, hmm?"

"Then why are you here, Penguin?"

"Oh, deduce it out!" Penguin said mockingly. "World's greatest detective... Come on! Deduce!"

Whatever his plan was, whatever his intention was - it worked. He started to slowly walk backwards towards the exit and Batman followed and Charlie was left behind in her chair, mortified, staring at the two men.

(She sometimes had problems telling if Penguin was looking at her or not; but this time she could feel his eyes on her. He was glaring at her from behind the mask and she looked back, above Batman's shoulder and for a brief moment she felt like the two vigilantes know something she doesn't. Obviously, they knew a lot of stuff she had no idea about; but they knew something about each other she felt might be important.)

They both disappeared into the night and she was left alone with her racing thoughts and a burning feeling on her face, where Penguin's eyes touched her.

"Well." she eventually muttered to herself, locking her front door. "New Yorkers have to meet Woody Allen, and Gothamites have to be vaguely threatened by Batman. Seems like everything's in order."

(She would have called Louise... But she was doing this one exact thing she was asked to not do. It was just her and Penguin and Batman. Not exactly a dream scenario.)

*** The perfect opportunity to follow Penguin's uncalled for advice regarding her personal life presented itself the next day. She went out to get some groceries - and the pizza place Oswald was working at was on the way.

So she dropped by - for the first time actually seeing the place. It was small, and seemed popular, considering all seats were taken, and the workers seemed to be busy - but April was behind the counter and she noticed Charlie after a short while.

"If it isn't our best customer!" she said with a smile, as Charlie waved at her. "Are you here for Oz?"

"Oz?" Charlie repeated uncertainly. "I... Guess?"

"Everyone calls him Oz, Oswald is a mouthful." April said, giving her customer their change. "Give me a sec, I'll get him for you-"

"I'm here!" Charlie heard a familiar voice and Oswald hastily left the kitchen, his hands covered in flour. "What's up?"

"Hey." Charlie said, smiling nervously and he grinned back, looking absolutely overjoyed. "Can we... Talk?"

"April?" Oswald asked, hesitantly looking at April, who only nodded and waved her hand.

"Go, go." she muttered. "Take a break."

They ended up in an alley behind Sal's, between brick walls, in a safe distance from the nearest dumpster. He lit up a cigarette and she sighed quietly, watching his profile.

(He looked beautiful from that angle.)

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he finally asked and she snapped out of her musings. "Did I muck up the last order or..."

"No, no!" she interrupted him quickly. "It's not a complaint. I... Do you want to get a coffee some day? Or... Tea or a milkshake or whatever?"

"Are you asking me out?" he asked with a lazy smile and for a brief moment she got lost in his squinted eyes.

"Yes." she finally said, nervously playing with the sleeve of her coat and he snickered and put his cigarette out, crushing it with his heel.

"My shift ends in two hours." he finally said. "And then... I'm free. And to answer your original question... Yes. God, yes."

He stretched and glanced at her and she could feel she's smiling like an idiot.

"You have a beautiful smile, by the way." he told her quietly and she smiled even wider. "So... See you in two hours?"

"Yes!" she said enthusiasthically, feeling so so glad she listened to Penguin. "See you!"

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, before turning around and leaving, the sounds of her heels on the concrete accompanied by Oswald's quiet laughter.

They went out for tea that afternoon, and they sat in the corner of the room, where no one could hear them.

"I've been trying to muster up the courage to ask you out for a weeks now, you know." he told her, staring at her attentively. "Never expected you to do it first. It's... Flattering."

"A good friend gave me a good advice." she said, thinking about her late night chat with the Penguin. "At least I assume it was good advice."

"Whoever this friend is, I owe them one." he said with a wink. "Also... I've heard about this deal with Penguin and the Joker. Messed up."

"It could've been worse." she said with a nonchalant shrug. "Nothing happened to me, and I got to meet the notorious Penguin. But it was long time ago... I almost never think about it."

(She was, obviously, lying. She was thinking about that evening a lot. And about Penguin and his arms, strong and lean, and his back, and his breathy, raspy voice.)

"Well, I'm glad you're okay." Oswald said hesitantly and she smiled; he looked like a puppy.

"I'm okay now." she said with a wink and his face lit up.

They talked for a few hours, about nothing and everything; and she decided she definitely loves listening to his voice. She felt comfortable around him, comfortable enough to not play coy and give him a proper, farewell kiss.

He pulled her closer instantly and she decided she likes the feeling of his hand on her back.

"Well." he whispered at some point, breaking the kiss. "Thats another thing I've been wanting to do."

"Call me." she whispered back, sliding a piece of paper with her phone number written on it into his hand.

"Oh, I will. I will." he assured her. "But for now... Have a good night?"

"Oh, I will." she said with a sigh, wondering if Penguin will show up. "I will."

Penguin showed up one week later; in the meantime, she had another casual date with Oswald. Her original urges - to both go for a walk with him and bang him - didn't disappear; in fact, they were getting more and more intense with time. She wanted to take things slow, to not scare him off, to wait some time before introducing him to anyone; but she was sure it's going to happen. She could feel it.

She woke up one night, because she heard some noises downstairs - and when she entered her living room, armed with a baseball bad she saw Penguin. He looked like he got out of a fight, judging by his torn clothes and bruises; but he wasn't bleeding.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked at the sight of her nightgown and messy hair. "My apologies."

"It was bound to happen eventually." she said with a yawn, putting the bat away. "You seem fine. What brings you here?"

"I need to lay low for a few hours and my usual partner in crime is out of town... And I don't have the keys to their place." Penguin said carefully. "May I...?"

"Sure. Be my guest." she said in a resigned tone. "You know, maybe I should give you a set of keys to this place. Also I have a guest room. Maybe... I'll start keeping some clothes for you there." she added, glancing critically at his torn clothes. "What was it this time? A tiger?"

"You could say that." he snickered, sinking into her couch and stretching his legs. "Also, I've been meaning to check up on you." he said in a casual tone, his head turned in her general direction; and she suddenly became very aware of how thin and short her nightgown was. "Is everything alright, Charlie?"

"Yeah." she said with a shrug, sitting in a nearby chair. "I... Went out with that pizza guy. Oswald."

"And... How was it? Do you think he's alright, or is he a serial killer in disguise?"

"...your optimism outshines the sun. No, he's... Great, actually." she admitted. "He's very my type, he's funny, he's honest... And I want to see how this thing develops. Because I think there will be more to us."

"I'm very glad to hear it." Penguin said, and he sounded honest, as honest as possible, considering his mask and a voice altering device inside. "But that being said... Do let me know if he turns out to be a rotten apple. Abuse's abuse, no matter how small."

"I can take care of myself, you know." she said quietly and he sighed.

"I'm not doubting that. What I'm trying to say is... You have a friend in me." he said and she smiled faintly. "Especially considering the Batman thing. You were... Very stubborn in stalling him."

"You saved my life, Penguin."

"And you saved mine, meaning your imaginary debt had been paid." Penguin said quietly and she tilted her head slightly. "You don't owe me anything, Charlie. Nobody owes me anything."

"Yeah, well, I suppose you have a friend in me." she said hesitantly and he chuckled quietly.

"I'm always glad to hear it from beautiful people, you know." he muttered and she guessed he's falling asleep. "Mmm. Mind if I..?"

"Goodnight, Penguin." she said softly, getting up. "Take care."

"And you as well, my fair lady." he muttered in response.

That night her dreams were confusing, to say the least - Oswald and Penguin were both there, and she realized she has to choose, that she can't have both.

She woke up not remembering who she chose; she felt a sting of disappointment when she went downstairs and saw Penguin had already left.

***

With time her crush on Oswald started turning into something else. With time and patience, this crush started to turn into something deeper. Still warm and genuine; but deeper. With time, she started to fall in love with him.

It was a good feeling, falling in love - it felt clear air just after the storm and a fluffy scarf in winter and belonging. She missed that feeling; and the more time they spent together, the more obvious it was she's not alone in this.

(It was in his eyes and in his voice and in the way he glanced at her from time to time when they were walking down the street and the way he'd put his arm around her wais. It was in everything.)

"My god, Charlie." Louise groaned one evening. "Stop grinning at your phone! Also, tell me who is doing this to you."

"Oh, you know." Charlie said nonchalantly, texting Oz back. "A guy."

"That's deliciously vague." Louise's new girlfriend smirked; her name was Vicki and she recently came back from her vacation. "C'mon. Describe him."

"Mmmm-mmmm." she shook her head. "I want to introduce him soon. Don't want to spoil the surprise."

"As long as it's not Bruce Wayne." Louise sighed and Charlie winced.

"Heavens, no. Wayne seems very sweet, but... I don't really have a sweet tooth."

"Oh, he's sweet and nice until you hear the spicy story." Vicki said with a wink. "His family was involved in some pretty dirty stuff, you know. No one knows who leaked this stuff, but it was a huge scandal last year. Ever heard of the Cobblepots?"

"I know about the Cobblepot Part."

"Yeah. They built it, and now it's a fucking ruin." Louise scoffed. "They were close friends with the Waynes... And them BAM, Theodore was driven to suicide, Esther was driven insane, their baby son - Bruce's best friend - shipped off to England, their name in shambles, their fortune... Gone. All because Thomas and Martha and their friends wanted a piece of their land."

"Jesus Christ." Charlie muttered. "That's... Terrible."

"Yeah." Vicki nodded. "But then Waynes got murdered... Karma's a bitch, eh?"

"I wonder what became of the baby Cobblepot though." Louise pondered. "If he's even alive and mentally sound. Nobody heard from him in years."

"Well, if I were him, I'd probably change my name and start from scratch." Charlie said with a shrug, pushing away the realization how close she was from losing everything. "I hope the world is treating him well."

"Yeah." Vicki agreed quietly. "Me too, girl. Me too."

Few days after her talk with Vicki and Louise, Charlie had another date with Oz. He was supposed to meet her in front of the mayor's office - she had some paperwork problems and wanted to deal with them as fast as possible. Inside the building, she bumped into Bruce Wayne. She had met the face of Gotham quite a few times now - he was charming, polite and she didn't particularly care about him either way. She didn't mind his occasional company - but she certainly didn't crave it either.

They were standing on the sidewalk outside the building, chatting about... Weather. Harvey Dent, the upcoming election, police's efforts to capture both Batman and Penguin - usual Gotham stuff.

Eventually, she felt the familiar arm wrapping around her waist and she smiled.

"Hello, darling." Oswald said tenderly, brushing her temple with his lips. "Am I late?"

"No, no, I was finished early." she said cheerfully, turning around to face Bruce Wayne, who was staring at Oswald. "Mister Wayne, this is-"

"Oh, we've met." Bruce interrupted her quietly, his voice cracking slightly. "Oz..."

"Hello, Bruce." Oswald replied equally quietly, not looking Bruce in the eye. "It's been... A while."

"Twenty years."

"Yes. Twenty years."

Heavy silence fell between them, and - very confused Charlie - looked at Oswald in silence for a while, until something finally clicked.

(The fact everyone called his name a mouthful, the fact he never gave her his surname, the fact he seemed to be broke, the fact he seemed to avoid that part of Gotham where Cobblepot Park was located.)

"Oh my god." she said finally. "You're... You're Oswald Cobblepot."

"Yeah." he said quietly, tensely. "I... Should have told you sooner. I'm so, so sorry."

"Oswald, where have you been?!" Bruce Wayne asked, visibly moved. "Please, talk to me."

"I'm managing, Bruce." Oswald replied harshly. "I'm... I'm managing. I don't want your mercy. I don't want anyone's mercy."

"It's not mercy, I'm your friend!"

"To be honest, Bruce... I'm not so sure if I'm your friend anymore." Oswald said, and his voice sounded empty and sad and tense. "Now please excuse me, I... Have a date."

Charlie and Oswald walked away from Bruce Wayne and only after a couple of minutes in complete silence she glanced at him; he was looking at the ground under his feet, avoiding her eyes.

"When were you going to tell me?" she finally asked and he shrugged and sighed.

"I don't know." he admitted. "But I was going to... Eventually. I've been... Hiding it. I was so tired of people looking at me like that... Same way Bruce was looking at me."

"You're not your family's tragedy, Oswald." she said quietly, gently brushing his hand with her fingertips. "You're more than that. You're your own person."

"Wow, thanks, Sherlock." he said with a faint smile and she scoffed. "Hey, Charlie."

"Yeah?"

"Does this change anything... About us?"

"Well, for me you're still the pizza delivery guy who smuggled me extra garlic bread more than once." she said and he snickered. "You're also still the same guy I asked out for coffee, so... I don't think so."

(She meant it. Cobblepot or not, burdened with a family tragedy or not - he was still her Oswald.)

They didn't confess any actual feelings that day; it wasn't a good time. But they had time.

*** Penguin visited her the same night - or: came crashing through her front door, covered in blood.

"Penguin!" she called out, running up to him. "Oh my god, what happened?!"

"A lot of things, at once." he groaned. "Oh god... This hurts like, pardon my French, motherfucker."

"Shut up!" she said, panicked, walking him up to the couch; he fell onto it like a sack filled with potatoes. "Stop talking. I'm... I'm going to patch you up."

"Talk to me, Charlie." he asked as she came back with her utensils. "Please. Just... Talk to me. Keep me anchored."

(Things were looking bad and she wasn't so sure if her abilities are enough to help.)

"I... I met Oswald Cobblepot." she said in a state of panic, trying to figure out where to start. "Shit, Penguin, I don't think I can do this. I don't have the equipment! I'm not a professional!"

"It's alright." he said and coughed. "I have a guy, he's on his way, you just stop me from bleeding out. Talk to me. Cobblepot?"

"Yeah. Turns out my pizza delivery guy had been Oswald Cobblepot all along." she said, trying to stop the bleeding in three places at once. "He says he's... Managing."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And he asked me if his past changes how I feel about him."

"Well... Does it?"

"No!" she bridled in response. "Well, maybe a bit. But I still like him! I still like being kissed by him."

"For his own good, I hope he's good for you."

She could hear some noises outside and Penguin sighed with relief.

"Ah. My friend is coming."

"Penguin... You can't keep doing this." she said on a verge of tears, her hands and clothes completely covered in his blood. "I'm not going to be able to help you every time!"

"Yeah, well, maybe I just like feeling your hands on me." he sighed and she froze in place. "Batsy! There you are. Help me out, would you?"

She looked behind her and there he was - Batman, in her own living room, again. He put his gloved hand on her shoulder and forced her to get up; Penguin scoffed at this sight.

"Be gentle with her, Batsy." Penguin warned the Bat quietly. "She's not the one you want. Now... Let's get down to business."

"Get out." Batman said to her quietly and she left, too shocked by what Penguin just told her to argue.

Maybe I just like feeling your hands on me.

Was he serious? Was he joking? She had no idea; there was too much pain, too much tension in his - already modified - voice for her to tell.

But there had to be some reason for him to keep coming back, for him to trust her with his wounds, for him to call her my fair lady. Was it all just a ploy, a game to win her loyalty? Or did she accidentally bewitch a masked vigilante?

She tried to look at herself through his eyes; she tried to feel what he felt - but to no avail.

(She felt guilty. She had feelings for Oswald; but the faint chance of Penguin actually being smitten with her made her blood rush and her heart skip a beat. She sometimes still remembered the feeling of him catching her just before she fainted.  It felt safe; she felt safe around him, comfortable enough to talk about her private life with him.)

She took a long shower, washing off all of his blood. When she left the bathroom - wearing clean clothes, her hair still wet, and her face bare - Batman was waiting just outside.

(The sight of him in her brightly lit corridor was absolutely surreal.)

"I'm too tired to lie to you tonight." she said before he said anything. "So. How is he?"

"He will live." Batman informed her and she sighed with relief. "He's going to stay the night here. Is that a problem?"

"Wouldn't be the first time it happened." she sighed. "So... Are you going to arrest us?"

"No." he said after a very long pause. "At least not tonight. We reached... An understanding. And as for you..."

"I'm fucked, aren't I?"

"Don't interrupt me. As for you..." he continued, "You never did anything wrong. You are not a criminal. You are not my enemy."

"Yeah, but I'm a friend of your enemy."

"He's not my enemy." Batman said dryly. "He just doesn't realize it yet. Me and Penguin - we're not enemies."

"Then... What are you?"

"You don't need to know everything. But I have a piece of advice for you."

"I'm all ears, Batman."

"Don't push." he said quietly. "Don't push him, because sometimes a little push is all it takes. And you... Might be just the person able to make that push. Do not."

"What the fuck does this mean?!" she groaned, but Batman didn't respond - instead he only turned around and left and she could've swear that she heard the typical sound of a human head banging against a low doorframe.

Penguin was on her unfortunate, bloodied couch in her living room; he turned his head as she entered the room, her arms crossed on her chest.

"I'm alive." he told her faintly and she scoffed. "I assume this is the last time I'm allowed to use this place as an asylum..?"

(In his arms, she felt safe.)

"No." she said softly, her very conlicted heart melting. "Of course not."

"Any other answer would break my heart." he said quietly, his voice so muffled she could barely hear him. "I am feeling drawn to you, Charlie."

"Christ." she said half jokingly, her heart pounding. "What did Batman do to you?"

"Midazolam." he said lazily. "And some other things. Something for the pain, something to calm me down, some... Some other things. He gave me a calming painkiller that doubles as a truth serum, basically. He also patched me up. Please don't ask me what my name is."

"I won't." she promised him, despite really wanting to know. "But Penguin..."

"I know." he said quietly. "There's Oswald. A sweet, nice, pizza delivery guy with a secret... I actually crossed paths with him, you know?"

"Did you?"

"I did. I know him... Quite well, the young Cobblepot. From his bad old days in the United Kingdom. We go wayyyyy back."

"Yeah?" she asked quietly, staring at the mask, trying to see what's behind it. "Where are you going with this, Penguin?"

"He's not a jealous type." Penguin finally said. "He... Wouldn't mind."

"...would't mind what, exactly?"

"Us." Penguin breathed out. "Do you feel drawn to me, Charlie?"

"You're basically high." she said calmly, her face deep, deep red. "Let's have this conversation when you are... Not high. Okay?"

"I'll keep you to your word, Charlie." he muttered, clearly drifting away. "One kiss for every freckle..." was the last thing she heard before he dozed off and she was left with her heart pounding, her head full of questions and a familiar, pulsing ache deep in her body.

He disappeared without a trace the next morning, and he didn't even leave a note behind.

She called Oswald, desperate for some answers - but he was sick. He caught a cold; and when she offered to come over and take care of him - he refused, claiming his afflictions are always extremally contagious.

"But will you call me once you feel better?" she asked sadly and even though the coughing, she could hear him smile.

"Of course I will. Take care, mm?"

"Take care, Oz."

(Both men she had feelings for were unavailable and she was starting to really miss being kissed. She couldn't imagine being kissed by Penguin - with that colossal mask in the way - but she always had very plastic, vivid imagination.

Eventually it found a way.)

*** Things got very complicated very quickly.

She had a feeling Penguin started to evade her after his sudden midazolam-influenced confession; she watched the news and read the papers and knew about all his fights and problems, but not even once he showed up on her couch, asking for few hours of sleep and bandages. Not even once he came to feel her gentle fingers on his scarred skin. And she was concerned - for she realized she actually cares about him, whoever he might be. He never gave her a name, and he never took his mask off around her; but she knew him by his words and by his bloody, bloody deeds. Murders of rapists, mutilations of neonazis, careers crashing and burning; Penguin had been busy.

She never talked about him with Oswald, after all - there was no point in doing so. Penguin trusted her, and by digging in his past she'd violate this trust; she tried to forget everything he told her that night, she tried to forget every dream she had about this faceless man.

Oswald was next to her and was very real and kissed her slowly and gently, but something was stopping him from further intimacy; something was keeping him from showing her his body, even though at that point he saw hers plenty of times. They got together, officially; they said I love you one night during a storm, and she introduced him to her friends and told her parents about him.

They were happy. They were in love. He seemed to be completely unaware of Penguin's shadow looming over them, creeping into their small moments, between their lips as they kissed, putting his bloodied hand between her thighs. He didn't know. It didn't matter. He didn't have to know.

Or: it didn't matter until the moment Penguin killed Carmine Falcone, who - recently - had been revealed to be one of the missing pieces in the Wayne-Cobblepot mystery. One day someone leaked the old photos and recordings; next day he was killed in the hospital as Bruce Wayne was visiting him. Penguin barged in, seemingly calm - though she knew his icy calm often hides a storm - and shot Falcone, before escaping.

Just like this, Carmine Falcone - one of the people who took everything from Oswald Cobblepot - was dead.

"Oswald..." Charlie said, as Oswald showed up on her doorstep, pale as a sheet. "I heard."

"They'll think I did it." he whispered, hiding his face in her hair. "I don't have an alibi..."

"You have me." she said firmly, tightly grasping his shirt with her fingers. "You have me."

(Oswald Cobblepot wouldn't be capable of killing someone in cold blood. He was broken and sad and only barely managing - but he wasn't a killer. She once looked the devil in the eye; she would know.)

Nobody ever questioned Oswald about the killing - everyone assumed Falcone had to die because of his criminal kingdom, because of things he was doing to small people of Gotham. It made sense; it fit Penguin's modus operandi. You hurt this city, you hurt its people - the city retaliates, it's revenge going by the name Penguin.

But then came the day of the debate between two mayoral candidates - Dent and Hill.

Oswald was at work that day, he had a night shift; and Charlie was watching, not really paying attention - up until Penguin took the scene, kicking the moderator out.

She never saw him that angry, and it was a very poorly hidden anger; a volcano, ready to erupt. A ticking time bomb.

Hamilton Hill died that night, on live tv; the executioner read his list of crimes and it was a long one. Corruption, hatred, abuse, partaking in the Cobblepot Tragedy, greed; a bit of everything was there.

Charlie couldn't stop looking. She didn't even blink when Penguin pulled the trigger and mayor's head exploded. She was mesmerized.

(There was something in the way he was using his gun that was making it impossible for her to focus on literally anything else.)

Batman was there, and he was not at all happy. Penguin got away; and she almost felt surprised when he sneaked into her house, bleeding from his shallow wounds.

"Charlie..." he said in his raspy voice, standing behind her. She didn't budge.

"Batman knows where to find you, Penguin." she said quietly, almost not breathing. "Do you think it's wise for you to come here?"

"I'm hiding in the plain sight." he said simply. "I'm wounded, Charlie."

"I know." she said, finally getting up. "Sit down. I will... Patch you up."

He looked tense and she just saw him take a life again; there was no blood on him, except for his own.

She did a bit more than just patch up his wounds that evening.

This time his fingers between her thighs were real. It was all real, even if the best she could do was to kiss the cold, smooth surface of his mask.

She felt no remorse. She felt no regret. She only felt euphoric as she rode him on her couch, his hands on her back, her nails on his arms, her lips on his neck.

Batman never came for him, and in the meantime Oswald texted her saying he'll call her tomorrow, because he needed some time alone to fully process what happened; and Penguin fell asleep on her couch, still wearing his mask.

He was fast asleep and she was impulsive. Without actually thinking - she quickly took his mask off.

(He saw her pink nipples and he heard her moans. It only seemed fair to finally learn who's behind the mask.)

It took her a long moment to process what she was looking at and it took him a long moment to wake up.

"...Oswald?" she finally said, her voice cracking up. "Tell me I'm dreaming. Tell me... This is not true."

"Hello, love." Oswald said, looking at her sadly. "That... Was not how I was hoping you'd find out."

"You weren't going to tell me." she said slowly, calmly. "You... You were going to just keep lying, weren't you? You didn't trust me enough... None of you trusted me."

"Charlie..."

"We both lied to each other, it seems." she muttered, feeling like she's about to faint; slowly, she put the mask down and got up, walking away from the couch. "But... I got the message. You texted me... While we were fucking."

"I have a computer running some scripts." he said quietly. "Charlie... Why did you do this?"

"Why did I do what?" she asked faintly. "Cheat on you?"

"Why did you unmask me." he asked, his voice cracking. "I spent so much time, building those lives... Separating them... Why did you have to blur the lines?"

"I did it by existing! It's not my fault you developed feelings for me!"

"But would this have happened if we were two people? If me and Penguin... If we weren't the same?"

"But you are the same!" she protested tearfully. "You are the same!"

They were both upset. They were both torn.

None of them knew how they feel and why they feel the way they do and how to fix it.

She kicked him out. He told her to never call him again.

For a few days, it was quiet. Sad - but quiet.

She heard Oswald just stopped coming to work. Penguin got way, way more active - and Louise was starting to suspect something.

(Or maybe she simply had a working brain. It didn't take a genius to connect the dots - her heartbreak, the disappearance of Oswald, Penguin becoming more vicious, more ruthless, more careless.)

She was almost ready to get over it, to forget, to move on again - but then Batman paid her a visit.

"I told you to not push." she heard, right after walking into the kitchen. "I told you, and you pushed and pushed and pushed."

"He did all the pushing, Bats." she said tiredly and he winced. "Fine. We both pushed. You should've been clearer."

"And he's now on a road to self destruction."

"We cut each other out." she said, setting her bag of groceries down on the table, as Batman awkwardly stood in the corner. "It's... Not my problem anymore."

"Lie to me all you want, but at very least be honest with yourself." Batman said quietly and she froze for a moment, holding a grapefruit.

(Oswald loved their smell.)

"I'm not lying to anyone, Bat." she said eventually, resuming the unpacking. "Not anymore."

"Don't do this for Penguin, Charlie. Do it for Oswald."

"Ah. So you knew."

"For quite some time now. He was covering his tracks well, but... Not well enough."

"Alright, I'll bite." she said suddenly, turning around to face him. "Why do you care about Oswald Cobblepot so much, Bat?"

"I don't need to explain myself to you."

"You are not Bruce Wayne, right?" she said with doubt in her voice; it was impossible. Batman was way more massive than Wayne; and Wayne lacked... The spine. The will. Everything. "He used to be friends with Oz."

"I am the night, Charlie." Batman replied. "And nocturnal animals need to flock together."

"Penguins are not nocturnal though. They are diurnal." she said, feeling like this is a very, very weird dream. "They don't have any land predators, so they can rest at night-"

"This penguin is nocturnal." Batman interrupted her, sounding even more awkward than she did. "Let's leave biology out of this discussion."

"Why are we even having this conversation?" she asked finally. "Don't you have... Crime to stop? People to beat up?"

"Penguin seems to be doing fine by himself." Batman replied calmly. "Maybe it is his way of self destruction... But you allegedly don't care."

"Fuck. You're not going to go away, are you?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You fucking creep." she sighed with annoyance. "Fine. I do care. I suppose... I fell in love with Oswald and Penguin. As... Separate people. The fact they are one and the same kind of makes things easier. But then I went on and cheated on Oswald with himself, and I guess... Do you know how and why my marriage ended?" she asked suddenly, and Batman - of course - nodded.

"I did my homework. It was... An ugly story."

"Yeah. So I guess I'm sort of touchy on the topic of secret identities and hidden agendas. Look, do we have to do this in a brightly lit kitchen? It ruins... Everything your costume stands for."

"I appreciate your honestly." he said and for a brief moment she had no idea what is he referring to. "Now get dressed. I know where and how to find Penguin, but... I need your help."

"Who told you I want to do anything?!"

"...I've been recording this entire conversation for my Bat-Archive, do you want me to replay your love confession?"

"...Bat-Archive? Really?"

"...get dressed."

*** Batman took her to one of the seediest parts of town, where the worst of the worst were residing. She was supposed to get in trouble; he promised to swoop in in case Penguin doesn't show up.

So she got into trouble - she smiled to the wrong person. One minute later, there was a knife at her throat and she was mentally preparing herself to die-

when she heard the gunshot. Obviously, it was not Batman - he was very firm on his anti-gun stance.

No, when Charlie opened her eyes, she saw the familiar mask and a familiar gun and a familiar suit. Man who - according to his own words - was going to gut her with his own hand was lying dead; and Penguin silently turned around, ready to leave, then she grabbed the fabric of his sleeve.

"Penguin..." she pleaded.

He stopped. Slowly turned his head, looked at her hand, and finally - at her face.

"What do you want?" he asked coldly. "You don't owe me anything. I don't want anything from you."

"Drop the act." she said quietly. "Please. I'm here to apologize. Because... Because..."

"...yes?"

"I still love you, you idiot!" she finally blurted out, still holding his sleeve. "I love this you and the one under the mask. Both of you. The whole you."

"And both of us love you." he said quietly and she slowly moved her fingers from his sleeve to his hand; their fingers touched and - finally - he took her hand. "This is a fucked up situation."

"Let's talk it out." she said breathlessly. "Just please-"

He took her into her arms before she finished her sentence. He smelled the same way he did when they first met; and she still felt safe in his arms.

They had a lot of issues to work through, some of them couldn't even be named; but they had time. And they had each other and it was all that mattered.

#ff #eng #oc #pinnguin