#clockworklove

"What the hell." He said with a shrug and opened the email. A video popped up, and this time when he said ‘what the hell’, he sat up straighter. The video was dark save for the spotlight in the middle of the room, where Oswald Cobblepot sat tied to a chair, blood dripping from his nose onto his shirt.

"This video is for Detective James Gordon." a distorted voice said, and a masked man stepped into the circle of light with Oswald, grabbing him by the back of the neck, forcing him to look at the camera.

"Hello, Jim." Oswald said, more of a shake to his voice than usual. "I do believe I’ve made a mistake while dealing with these gentlemen." He gave a hoarse laugh, and then winced when the man holding him shook him a bit.

"Dammit, Oswald." Jim said to himself as he shook his head. What kind of mess had the other man gotten himself into now?

"They’re quite upset with me, and they’re demanding that you come in person to help resolve the issue." Oswald explained. The man in the mask let him go and approached the camera again, still keeping his distance to prevent retinal identification.

"Call 395-8473 in the next 5 minutes or else your friend, Oswald here is gonna have a few more injuries." He paused and approached Oswald again. "And just in case you don’t believe us…"

Jim flinched when the man punched Oswald across the face, fresh blood flowing from the mobster’s nose as he coughed. He had been hit hard enough to jolt the chair, which now sat slightly askew. Jim’s hands tightened into fists on his desk.

The masked man grabbed Oswald by the chin, forcing him to look up.

"Better hurry, Detective." The man’s voice said. "He’s pretty cute, and I may be tempted to get nastier. Wouldn’t want to mess up his precious face anymore, now would we."

When the masked man pulled up the bottom of his mask and forced a kiss onto Oswald, Jim closed the window and grabbed his phone off the receiver, punching in the numbers so viciously that he sure he would break one of the buttons.

The phone rang once before it was picked up, a non-distorted voice answering it.

"Hello Detective Gordon."

Jim was already standing and gathering his coat as he talked, acid pumping through his veins.

The figure that was hovering over him said something to him, but it was garbled. Oswald felt like he was being held underwater, the feeling amplified by the way things around him seemed to be shimmering and shifting. The person who stuck him walked away, leaving him to burn.

After what seemed like hours, another person approached him, this one familiar.

"Jim..." He wheezed, feeling relief flood his body as the cop knelt down next to him. He reached out and was surprised when Jim didn't take his hand, just looked at it.

"Fine mess you've gotten yourself into this time, Penguin."

Oswald recoiled in spite of the fire sitting in all his joints. Jim hadn't called him Penguin in a long time, and the unwelcome nickname stung more than ever coming out of Jim's mouth. The other man was staring at him, eyes hard and unyielding.

"But then again, you're always in a mess, aren't you." Jim continued as Oswald tried to sit up. "Because that's how this works, right? You get into a mess, I save you, and in return you give me information when I need it."

"What? Jim." Oswald shook his head. It felt like it was 3 sizes too big for his neck, heavy and off-balance. "Don't make it sound like--"

Jim snorted, cutting him off.

"Like what? We slept together twice. That doesn't mean anything."

Oswald flinched, flattening himself against the wall.

"Truth is I only did it to get closer to you." Gordon went on. "I mean that's what you were doing to me, right? Playing nice so I'll do you favors?" With every word Jim said, Oswald continued shaking his head, his chest clenching in fear.

"This is a business relationship, Penguin. Don't get it misconstrued. I'm not your lover. I'm not your friend. I use you just like you use me."

Jim leaned closer, expression cold.

"If I had my way, I'd leave you here to die. One less criminal in Gotham for me to babysit."

Oswald couldn't stop his body from shaking if he tried.

"You don't mean that." He choked. "You don't mean that, Jim, now stop it."

Again, Jim snorted at him, standing up and looking down at him.

"Just lie there and rot quietly. Don't make me have to put you out of your misery."

Oswald could only watch as Jim walked away from him, shoving his hands in his pockets and shaking his head. The burning in his bones was getting worse, and before Oswald knew it, he slumped down the wall, unconscious.

"... Wald... Os... OSWALD. Wake up!"

Someone was shouting at him and it was making his head hurt. With a groan, he opened his eyes and found himself staring at Jim Gordon again. Their previous conversation came back to him and he pulled away, pain flaring in his leg and behind his eyes.

"S-stay back!" He said, his voice cracking. Jim held his hands up, eyes wide.

"Whoa whoa, calm down. It's me. It's Jim. Do you know where you are?"

Oswald's lip curled as he kept scooting away from the cop.

"Yeah I know where I am. I'm right where you left me when you told me I should lie here and rot quietly, so you wouldn't have to put me out of my misery."

Jim's confused expression only made him angry.

"What are you talking about? I didn't say that. I just got here, I've been searching for you for hours. When you didn't show up for our meet in the park, I figured something had gone wrong."

He reached for the other man only to have Oswald pull away again, staring at Jim's hand like it might bite him.

"That's impossible... you were here. You said... awful things to me." Oswald straightened, setting his jaw and trying to cover his hurt with anger. "I didn't appreciate your cruel words, Jim." He said matter-of-factly.

Jim was more confused than ever, and it took longer than he wanted to admit to figure out what had happened.

"Oswald, did you by chance get injected with something? Before you... you know, saw me?"

Oswald wouldn't look at him, but he nodded his head. Jim sagged with a small chuckle, and Oswald's head snapped to him, anger flaring in his eyes.

"That person you saw," Jim said, "that Jim Gordon, he wasn't real. You were hallucinating. Someone must have gotten their hands on that fear toxin that Gerald Crane made."

He could see Oswald was calming down, so he kept talking.

"Remember I told you about that, the fear serum? What you saw, what you heard, it wasn't real. Whatever I said, or what I supposedly said, it's not true."

Oswald didn't move away when Jim put a hand on his arm, but he was still stiff.

"You said that there was nothing between us. That you were just using me, because that's what I'm doing to you..." His voice got quiet as Jim joined him in sitting against the wall. "You were words away from basically telling me that you hated me."

Jim put his arm around Oswald's shoulders, waiting until the smaller man relaxed against him to give his forehead a gentle kiss.

"I don't hate you. You're a pain in my ass sometimes, yeah, but that's not going to make me hate you. Not after everything that's happened."

They sat quietly for a moment or so longer before Jim spoke again.

"So that's your biggest fear? Me hating you?" He looked down at Oswald, who only held the cop's gaze for a second before looking away, absently rubbing at his aching leg.

"Yes I suppose it is. That's what the serum does, right? Draws your deepest fears out of your subconscious and then throws them at you."

Jim nodded with a hum, tightening his grip around Oswald's shoulders momentarily before releasing it again. He wasn't entirely sure what Oswald's hallucination had said, but he was certain that the words would never come out of his own mouth. His relationship with Oswald Cobblepot was complicated at best, but he didn't hate the guy. He didn't love him, at least he didn't think so, he wasn't so sure at that point, but the other man had grown on him in spite of everything that was wrong about him in Jim's book, namely his being a mobster and a murderer among other unsavory things.

He removed his arm from Oswald's shoulder and used his hand to tilt the other man's face up, smiling at him and giving him a kiss. He felt Oswald relax into him and prolonged the kiss for a second longer.

"Alright, let's get you up. I know this concrete has to be hell on your leg." Jim said, standing and carefully pulling Oswald up. The smaller man hissed and hung onto Gordon after trying to put weight on his leg.

"I'm okay." He said quickly when he saw the concern in Gordon's eyes. "It just needs to sort itself out." Jim rolled his eyes and put his arm around Oswald's waist.

"Just let me help you, okay? I'm a cop, that's what I do."

Oswald finally smiled, leaning against Gordon as they started walking.

"Yes it is, and you do your job splendidly."

A few slow steps later and Oswald spoke again.

"Jim? Can you kiss me again?"

Jim gave him a smile and stopped walking.

"I don't know, can I?" He said. Oswald's smile came back, crinkling his eyes.

"Yes you can. In fact, I insist."

Jim hooked a finger under his chin and kissed him, probably longer than he should have, in case the other detectives decided to come looking for him, giving Oswald one last kiss on the forehead before starting to walk again.

Oswald held onto Jim tightly, his smile remaining. Jim was right. He had been hallucinating. Because the real Jim Gordon cared about him, could maybe even grow to love him the same way that Oswald loved him, and that thought gave him comfort for the time being. His thoughts flickered to the person who had injected him in the first place, but then Jim's thumb rubbed an absent circle against his waist, and he figured retaliation against his assailant could wait for a little while longer.