E. Nygma (
theansweris) wrote2019-12-14 12:33 pm
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PSL 03: tact from me is like blood from a stone
Riddler takes them out to try and calm Ed down.
Away from the house and temptation and messy emotions, Ed does start to settle again, until he's quieted down and able to function again. Riddler's relieved and lets Ed pick the lock on the framing shop, letting himself in and acquiring what he needs and letting himself back out again with no sign of robbery. It's possible it might take them months to realise it ever happened.
Ed, being the sentimental one, is satisfied with this.
Riddler is not.
He spends a while acquiring his present. It's not as valuable as it could be, but he's satisfied. And that's enough for them to go home and get changed into more casual clothes and settle on the bedclothes with a book. He might sleep. He might not. Either way, he could be quiet until morning.
Away from the house and temptation and messy emotions, Ed does start to settle again, until he's quieted down and able to function again. Riddler's relieved and lets Ed pick the lock on the framing shop, letting himself in and acquiring what he needs and letting himself back out again with no sign of robbery. It's possible it might take them months to realise it ever happened.
Ed, being the sentimental one, is satisfied with this.
Riddler is not.
He spends a while acquiring his present. It's not as valuable as it could be, but he's satisfied. And that's enough for them to go home and get changed into more casual clothes and settle on the bedclothes with a book. He might sleep. He might not. Either way, he could be quiet until morning.
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While the enthusiasm is appreciated, I think it's best I start small and work my way up.
[He sniffs, his gaze turning inward.]
This check up that you're proposing... [he begins after a while, looking away] ...how long would it take?
[The idea of being looked over by someone he trusted - someone who had proved himself more than capable of nursing him back to health after finding him in the woods, drenched in blood and shock-sweat - is only marginally less uncomfortable than submitting to an actual doctor's poking and prodding.
But he'll take it.]
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"The- oh. As long as you can tolerate, basically. I'd like to check your baselines, temperature, pulse, breathing, blood pressure, so I know what's normal and can tell if anything changes or is changed for you. Your leg? I'd like a good fifteen minutes to check the joints and movement and see if it can be improved, but I won't push for anything more than you're comfortable with. If that's just letting me check there's no hidden infections or bone splinters, I'll take it."
He wants to do more. He wants to learn all her can and get Oswald into a minimal amount of pain, where he can walk without ending the day in miserable agony from it, maybe even to the point that the brace would remove the pain of standing. But he knows Oswald probably can't and won't tolerate that long.
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I'll think about it. [He says at last, gripped by a sudden urge to pour himself a drink. Or several. Licking his lips, he changes the subject to something more comfortable.] But first, I think I'm gonna get dressed.
[Laying the tray beside him, he continues:]
I must thank you again for the gifts and the room service - couldn't have asked for a more pleasant surprise to wake up to after a notable dearth of them.
[He opens his arms but doesn't lean in.]
Care for a hug?
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tantrumrage. Not while they're having a nice breakfast.he finishes the bit of toast, licking his fingers clean on crumbs while Oswald moves the tray and is surprised by the offer. "I- yes." But then he pauses, not really sure the right way to do this. He knows how he wants to do it. He knows how Riddler wants to do it. "What if I do it wrong?"
Riddler spits something venomous, making Ed wince a little. "I mean, over step, or the like."
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[Spreading his hands in a sort of shrug, he presses on.]
It's just a hug, not a test. And for what it's worth, you've gotten much better at them compared to when we started - no contest.
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And Ed is so very, very weary.
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[It's always something of a surprise when Ed's the one to slump into him; he's always heavier than Oswald expects for a man of his build, easily shifting his flimsy balance this time around. Tipping back, he puts a hand out to slow his fall, easing onto his elbow with his other arm still loosely slung around Ed, instinctively holding on while he puzzles over what is happening.]
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[A dry, nervous chuckle rises into his throat.]
I wouldn't say so. Besides, if you were, I'm pretty sure you'd be on my floor right about now. Or even out on your ass.
[His heart pounds away, his body tense and unsure and crackling with adrenaline. But there's no danger here. Only Ed, warm and solid and real, the heat of his breath seeping through his robe. Oswald blinks at him, what he can see of him, afraid to move or to breathe too deeply, to do anything to upset the delicate balance of things allowing this moment to happen.]
...You can tuck yourself in if you want, by the way. It can get pretty drafty around here.
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He takes a slow breath. "I don't mind breezes. I don't like being cold with no wind, but with wind is okay." It reminds him he's not in the ice.
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[Eventually, his nerves tire of keeping him wired and primed for something that never happens and he feels himself give, little by little, sinking into the mattress. And by the time his pulse slows and his eyelid falls shut on him, fluttering but too heavy to lift, Ed's touch - his hand pressed to his moving ribs, the weight of his head leaned into him - has already begun to feel familiar. Like it was always there, and something he can't imagine sleeping without.]
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Before Oswald starts dozing off, Ed has fallen asleep, glasses pressed into the side of his face and weight heavy against Oswald. The steady beat of Oswald's heart is lulling and it sends them both under quickly, into a peaceful, deep slumber.
At least, for a while.
Maybe an hour or two, he actually sleeps. And when the nightmares hit, sleep paralysis does its job and stops him from lashing out at his dreams in the real world. The only change in his sleeping self is his breaths speeding up, catching, small, trapped animal noises quietly whined out and his fingers twitching softly against Oswald.
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Wincing, Oswald rubs at his face, wondering what dire situation demands his attention over anyone else's. But what he finds, when he cracks his eye open a slit, is Ed - Ed the human curled beside him. His heart clenches with emotion. But the happiness and hope rushing through him isn't there to stay as he watches and listens. Ed's eyes are closed but he's moving, keening, his breath coming shallow and fast - every sign pointing to a nightmare. No surprise considering the hellhole he left behind.
Oswald blinks, alert.]
Ed? [He tries, a hoarse whisper. He reaches to touch him, hesitating halfway.] Ed...
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He startles, sits up sharply, glasses askew and bleary eyed. He stares blankly for a long moment and then reaches to rubs his eyes sleepily. "Oswald? Did I- I fell asleep." Not a question. "Sorry."
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What? [Staring at Ed fixedly.] ...No -- [He sits himself up with an effort, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows.] -- no need for apologies. You were obviously exhausted, and under a great deal of stress.
[Glancing around them, he realizes Olga must have done her rounds; the tray is gone.] Can I get you something? Some tea, perhaps?
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I remember.
"Apparently he remembers it. I don't care. A cup of tea would be good. But I can go get it, let you, get up. Get ready." He shoves his glasses back on.
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Well! At least this was nice while it lasted.
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[The stuff dreams are made of - and more than enough motivation to wash and get dressed, if he had no other reason.]
How about Lorenzo's, at eight? My treat, of course. [It's one of the few places he'll dine in where reservations don't need to be made at least a few days in advance.]
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He's already slipping back into PA mode. Riddler might chafe at not getting attention, but Ed is, for now, more than satisfied with having Oswald's attention to soak in.
"Should I start a bath running before I leave?"
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Thanks, but I'll take care of it. So! [Holding up a finger.] Yes to lunch... and the ophthalmologist. And if it gets me out of having to submit to a half hour-long marathon of being poked and prodded in a claustrophobic doctor's office, then... [he shakes his head, sighing] ...fine. You can conduct your examination, or whatever it is you want to call it, and then we can all breathe a little easier.
[Oswald shifts and swings his legs over the side of his bed, a spasm of pain twisting his face when he touches down. He tucks his feet into his slippers, shuffling to slide open the doors to his walk-in closet.]
Not that I expect too much of a difference. It is what it is, after all. [Pausing.] But at least it's you, and not some... club-fingered brute.
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He needs to neaten up himself after his impromptu nap on Oswald.
/insert Spongebob time card here
Is it a date or not? Oswald is reluctant to label it as anything other than a nice dinner with between friends, not meaning to spoil their first night out in town with any pressures and expectations. Of course, nothing quite says friendship like lingering looks and nervous chuckling when he catches himself, and the urge to touch his fingers to Ed's from across the table, the latter of which he can barely resist.]
To us... [he says, raising his glass in a salute] ... need I say more?
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(They were Oswald's, but who cares? He wanted to wear them so he borrowed them.)
He watches the wine being opened and poured and accepts a glass, smiling at the toast. "To us." He sips and sets it down and glances at Oswald's hand. "The next thing I would ask... Mm. Held by one, I'm whole and intact. Held by two, I'm binding. Anymore, and I become nothing. What am I?"
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[Is a throwaway guess an improvement over Oswald scoffing off a riddle, declaring that it's a waste of time? Probably not. ]
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Hope this works
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also, I apologize for that mistake-riddled tag a few tags ago >> it BURNS.
I totally didn't notice, I promise
okiedoke!
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truly a handjob
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sorry, I meant os' desire
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