#gablepot

Gabriel arrived just in time to hear the crack of the gun snapping through the relative silence of the pier. Large body lurking behind a shipping crate, Gabe waited for the telltale splash of a body hitting water. He couldn't risk that skinny lunatic spotting him and taking him out, not when he was by himself  and carrying a distinct lack of firearms. Peering around the corner, he saw Nygma staring down into the water, a stranger than normal look in his expression.

The aching in Gabe's stomach grew tighter and tighter the longer the man stood there, staring at the man drowning in the water, probably bleeding out from the close range shot. He had to think quick – and did, picking up a small wooden box, chucking it away. The noise startled Nygma from his trance, and away he ran. The aging mobster ran towards the dock as the thin man ran away, looking down into the water.  Nothing.

He saw nothing.

Throwing off his coat, he quickly crossed himself in a small prayer to God to help him swim better than he actually knew how, and leapt into the water. He hit the frigid river like a ton of well-fed bricks, sinking relatively fast. It was murky, hard to focus, and his brain was yelling at him that a man of his age shouldn't go around jumping into rivers, no matter who was at the bottom of it. He felt around blindly with his hands, but it was his feet that hit something.

He pushed down, taking hold of that something, yanking it with him and moving towards the shallows. It was rapidly sapping his energy, but the little guy was depending on him and that thought kept him moving, gasping in air once his head was above the surface. He pulled Oswald fully into his arms, dragging him out of the water and dropping to his knees on the rock-littered 'shore' that made up about two feet before a concrete wall.

“C'mon boss...” Gabriel mumbled. Oswald's arms laid at his side, limp, and his stomach bled freely. “Ya gotta at least breathe for me.”

Gabriel pressed a large hand to the stomach wound, other hand feeling for a pulse – it was there. His Boss was a survivor through and through. He wasn't breathing so well, though, so Gabe leaned in and pushed on his chest, doing makeshift compressions. He never learned how to do CPR or anything, but he'd seen it enough in the pictures that he figured he had the general idea.

He was rewarded with the strangely reassuring noise of a choking, sputtering little bird, expelling water from his throat. Gabriel gathered him up into his arms, pressing the man to his chest. On his side like this he would be able to breathe better and not gag on river water... And the pressure might keep the bleeding at bay. Getting Oswald to a chop shop to get him patched up was going to be a chore.

“Alright little guy, let's get you fixed up, huh?” The large man mumbled as he moved to the car that waited on the side of the warehouse.

The ride to the “doctor” was eerie. He could hear his own heart pounding in his chest coupled with the shallow, rasping breaths Oswald struggled to take on the seat beside him. One hand on the wheel, one hand pressed to the open wound as he sped. Gotham was a ghost town still reeling from the chaos of the night before, no cops patrolling for petty violations because all hands were needed to retain order. He rushed into the only doctor he knew would be operating at this time of the day, voice booming deep as he issued the man a command.

“Fix him up!”

Gabe waited.

And waited.

And waited.

At one point he nearly fell asleep, but anxiety kept his eyes propped open. His boots were waterlogged, his heart heavy with dread. What would he do if Oswald didn't pull through? There were other bosses he could get in with, obviously, but no one was like Oswald. No one was as cunning, no one as simultaneously powerful and delicate. He had come to grips with the fact that he felt something different for the man then he did any others.

He loved him. Not in the way one loves a child or a cherished friend, but in the way you love someone that could never love you in return. Mournfully, quietly.

Someone entered the room. The doctor.

“He's stable. Now, he's going to need bedrest, a steady--” The man blinked as he was pushed past. “Gabe, there's the matter of payment, too? I don't do this for free, y—”

“Shut up, Larry. You know I'm good for it but I ain't got time to deal with it right now. I gotta get him somewhere safe. I'll get to ya within the next week, alright?” Gabe grumbled, bearlike as he moved to regard the pale man on the gurney.

He looked wretched, a ghost of a man. Gabe had seen him fall so many times before, and it never hurt any less. The only thing he could do was to remain steadfast. He would remain the man's anchor and guardian, keeping him safe where he could, even if he couldn't keep him sane and healthy. Gently, Gabe pulled the tiny creature into his arms, intent on taking him somewhere safer then the chop shop. He didn't need him being seen by the rabble that populated the area.

“Just – be careful moving him, his stitches...” Larry chimed in.

“You think I ain't ever carried someone half dead before? Get the door for me. I got this under control. Put the meds in the car.” He ordered the man. He was a pushover where Gabe was involved because the aging mobster had saved his sister ages ago from a human trafficker. Gabriel might have been a gangster, but he had a code.

Within the hour, Oswald was resting comfortably in Gabriel's bed in his apartment in the East End, breaths deep and even. Gabe watched him rest, dutiful and ever-present. He was all Oswald had right now, and he needed to be there when he woke.

When the wounded man did wake, it was with a whimper. The memory of the night before triggered by the pain in his abdomen... And once again, Gabe watched as Oswald sobbed softly. How many times could he be broken  and put back together? How many times would he be betrayed, or hurt, or made a fool of? His strength had always astonished the older man.

“Gabe... Gabe...” Oswald gasped softly between hiccuped sobs.

“I'm here, Boss.” Gabe mumbled in return, large hands wrapping around one of Oswald's.

“I- I love him, Gabe... How could he...” Oswald whispered.

“I know you love him, Boss. I sure wish you didn't.” Gabe admitted. He had known from the start that this alliance with Nygma would end in pain, but that wasn't what Oswald needed to hear right then.

“I don't want to anymore... It hurts too much. H-he'll never love me back.” Oswald's eyes clenched shut.

“I'm sorry, Oswald. I'm here for you, though. Just get some rest, huh?” Gabe offered lamely.

“Okay... Will you stay here?” Oswald's hand twitched in his.

“Don't I always?” Gabe smiled to him, though his eyes remained shut.

“You're my only friend in this world, Gabe.” Oswald mumbled.

It made him ache in the worst way to see Oswald so destroyed time and time again. Love was his greatest weakness, one he sought out so often, one that evaded him endlessly... but was also something that sat beside him, that carried him home, tended his wounds, and went completely, devastatingly unacknowledged.

Gabe was a man who knew a lot of things about a lot of things, but came up empty when it came to romance and love. The intricacies, the longing, the etiquette of it all seemed beyond his comprehension. He'd been with a dame or two in his day, had some girlfriends here and there (and a boyfriend, for one confusing week), but it always seemed to taper off or go south in some screwed up way.  He tried his best not to let it affect him and to just focus on his work to support the one constant ray of sunshine in his life; his daughter.  Her mother was one of his least successful ventures in the realm of love, but he wouldn't trade that for the world.

Lily was twenty now, and Gabe's best friend. The kid both knew everything about him and nothing. She knew what he did, who he worked for, and what he was into, but there was not a soul in Gotham that knew she was his child because she was safer that way. She was his most precious thing. When her mother left her on his doorstep he had, admittedly, panicked; he was twenty years younger, after all, still a youthful man in his prime. But the second he held her in his arms he was smitten. Lily Rose, named because when she was in his presence the world was full of flowers and joy.

It was Lily he was meeting now for a quiet dinner at her new apartment. On top of a full school schedule, she had gotten a job recently waiting tables at one of Falcone's old joints, and insisted on paying her own rent despite his objections. He knew he had to let his little girl go at some point, but that didn't mean he would stop coming around.  They were one anothers biggest supporters, after all. Following a stint in Blackgate following the tragedy of Gertrud's death, she had come to get him, had supported him through his rough patch.

When Oswald had snapped out of the unsettling daze Arkham had forced him into, it was Butch, not Gabe, that he had turned to. Gabe tried his damnedest not to take it the wrong way; Boss hadn't been in his right mind for a while. He could forgive him, though he wished the little man had possessed a clear enough head to think of him for help. The first call he received from Cobblepot was just after the Freak Bus had dumped its load in Midtown, setting loose all manner of monster. It gave him the heebie jeebies just to think of. The call had been frantic, begging for help; Gabe had sped to the location and found him laid out in the street.

He assumed the worst, but when he found him breathing Gabe nearly cried (though he would never admit that). Things had been strange, since then. Arkham had done some messed up stuff to the little man, things Gabe couldn't fathom. That whole business with monsters being manufactured in Arkham's basement was a thought that nearly turned him into the praying type. Once he was back with Cobblepot, though, Gabe wasn't letting him go again.  Sure, he'd taken a back seat to Butch, of all people, but loyal was loyal and he knew the Boss would come around.

When Oswald decided to run for Mayor, Gabe was there, campaigning for him by day and keeping the underworld hustle going by night.  He figured the Mayoral seat was in the bag.

What he didn't anticipate was Edward Nygma's role in it. From Arkham inmate to Chief-of-Staff, Ed had managed to worm his way into every aspect of Oswald's life. It wasn't that Gabe disliked the guy; he was just cautious. Very cautious. And maybe, somewhere buried in his heart, a little jealous, especially when Oswald tearfully admitted that he had fallen for the lanky murderer.

“Hey pops! Come in, come in. I'm sorry, the place is a mess, I just got a new couch...” A voice like the summer breeze knocked him out of his thoughts as he opened the door.

“Mess? Where's the mess?” Gabe looked around; the place was spotless save for an ottoman out of place and shoes strewn on the floor off of the mat she kept them on.

“It's messy to me! Get in here.” She called from the kitchen, laughing.

Gabe grinned cheerily and walked into the kitchen, finding her and placing a kiss to her temple. She looked exhausted, dark hair up in a messy bun, bags under blue eyes, olive skin covered in a faint sheen of sweat. He frowned, concerned, placing a finger under her chin to make her look up at him. She raised a brow.

“... Yeah?” She smiled.

“You look exhausted. You didn't have ta cook, kid. I woulda brought something.” He furrowed his brows.

“I know, but you need to eat home cooked meals sometimes too. Real ones.” She reached up and tapped him on the nose, causing him to grin.

“Yeah, suppose you're right. Go sit down though, let me set the table and whatnot.” He shooed her.

“Yeah yeah.” She laughed, respecting his need to dote.

Over dinner they spoke of the mundane; school, work, Lily's need for a new car because things kept breaking down on the junker she had. Gabe avoided speaking of Oswald and Edward, of the girlfriend that Ed now had that Oswald despised for existing. He avoided it so heavily and obviously that his perceptive little girl stopped, mid conversation, and put a hand on her hip, looking at him.

“So what's going on? You usually talk about the Boss all the time. Now every time I bring him up you change the subject? What's the deal?” She interrogated, critical look on her normally soft features.

“What are you talkin' about? I just don't think you wanna hear about all that. You got bigger stuff to worry about and it ain't that interesting.” His tone was more defensive then he intended.

“Oh no no no. That ain't gonna fly. What's happening? He giving you the silent treatment again? Dodging you? I know he's mayor now but that doesn't excuse that kinda stuff.” She looked astonishingly like Gabe in that moment, brows furrowed in irritation.

“Nothin' like that, honey. He's just preoccupied, got some personal stuff going on I shouldn't be talkin' about. I'm still a big part of the crew...” No sooner had he stated this then he realized she would not be letting this lie.

“Shouldn't be talking about? Pop, you talk about him all the time. Get all starry eyed like he's your hero. What's the personal crap? Come on, gimmie the gossip, I'm dying for it. You know I won't tell anyone. Snitches get stitches.” She gave a grin, nudging him beneath the table with a foot. Gabe's resolve was nonexistent.

“Fine, but only 'cause you're the only person I can talk to 'bout it.” He grumbled, pushing around a meatball with his fork, staring at the table in a way that looked more forlorn then he meant for it to. It was remarkably difficult to hide his expressions from her. “So I told you about the Chief-Of-Staff, right? Stringbean Nygma? All brains, no sense? Well, he actually managed to get a girlfriend and Boss is all broke up about it. Mopin' around, drinking too much. Had to carry him to bed last week 'cause he was hammered and crying. Guess Nygma brought her to the mansion and was getting' all cozy with her and he saw it.”

“No!” Lily gasped, big eyed. “Oh, that poor thing.  He gonna have her killed?”

“I been tryin' to convince him it's not the best way to go, but probably.” Gabe sighed. “And I'll probably be the one stuck doing it. And like I said, Ed's a smart guy... He's gonna figure it out, and then I've got a Penguin with a broken heart on my hands. Because I'll probably have to kill the guy for going after him. It's gonna be a mess. I wish Boss'd just... go for someone worthwhile, you know?” “Yeah. Maybe you should set him up with someone.” She suggested, sipping her water.

“I don't know nobody I'd want to see him with. He's too good for most people. He's smart, powerful, ain't hard on the eyes -” Gabe blinked, trailing off at his own statement.

“Sounds like you wanna shack up with him, Pops.” She said it delicately; if it were anyone else he'd feign offense, but coming from his daughter it made more sense then anything he had ever heard.

“... Shit. Do I? Is that weird?” Gabe put the fork down and ran a hand through his hair.

“Sure sounds like it. And nah, not weird at all. This is Gotham, who cares?” Lily offered, as supportive as she could manage while still looking amused.

“I mean, I do. I'm bad at this kinda stuff.” Gabe mumbled, leaning back in his seat. It made sense, though. He always felt nothing but distraught whenever the Boss spurned him. Ever since Oswald told him that he was in love with Ed, Gabe found himself subconsciously but actively needing to avoid shoving the lanky man into traffic. Did he love him? Was it that clear?

“I know you are, dad. Do you wanna be with him?” She asked, more gently now.

“This is corny, but I can't really think of life without him anymore. I just wanna keep him safe, you know?” Gabe looked up at her. “Sounds like I'm in love with him.”

“Maybe you are, pops.” Lily smiled at him.

“Maybe I am. So I'm in love with my boss who's in love with his Chief-of-Staff who's in love with some broad who looks like his ex. What a fuckin' world.” Gabe could do nothing more then laugh.

“It'll work out, Pops.” She leaned over to pat his arm.