Archive of Our Own

Oswald wondered how it was that a stray bullet could alter his entire world so quickly. Teaming up with Lee to take on Sofia Falcone had been his last mad scramble to take his empire back. With Lee’s assistance had also come Edward’s.

That was what had brought them both here, in an open and armed conflict with Sofia. Edward made a pained noise beside him, the green over his stomach staining red.

“Ed?” Oswald said, eyes widening in horror. Edward pressed his left hand to his stomach, right still holding his gun. He was looking down at the wound, head slowly raising with a look of horror as he responded to Oswald’s call.

“Oh dear,” Edward said, putting the gun in the holster Oswald had forced him to use, sick of seeing Edward shove it down the back of his pants. He pressed his free hand over his stomach as well, now, sinking down to his knees behind the car they were using for cover. The car door had been enough to stop the bullets from the Sirens’ handguns, but a rifle round had pieced right through it.

“Lee! Get over here!” Oswald screamed, rushing over to Edward. Bullets whizzed over the top of the car as Edward leaned back against it, both hands pressing around a growing bloodstain. Lee ceased returning fire, ducking back behind the car next to them. She looked over, eyes growing wide as she took in Edward’s condition. Lee ducked low and sprinted over, dropping down next to Edward.

“I need to get him out of here,” she said, hardly pausing.

“Go,” Oswald said. He’d be down two people, but that was still doable. He could still win the day. Lee went into a crouch, taking Edward’s arm and pulling it over her shoulders. His hand was soaked in blood. More spilled from between the fingers of his left hand, and he whimpered as Lee pulled him up. They stayed low and went to the car they’d taken, Lee helping to load him into the back. She got into the backseat and peeled off. Grundy returned moments later, apparently finished with the task Oswald had assigned him earlier.

“Where Ed?” Grundy asked.

“Ed was hurt, now I need you to—“

“Ed hurt?” Grundy exclaimed.

“Yes. He’ll be fine, now—"

“Bird man bring Grundy to Ed,” he demanded.

“I can’t leave, I’m in the middle of a war!” Oswald argued. “I can’t stop until Sofia Falcone is dead.” Grundy considered this.

“Red lady?” Grundy asked, pointing across the existing no-man’s land.

“She’s wearing a red jacket, yes. Wait, what are you—" Grundy turned, flipping the car Oswald had been using for cover onto its side. Oswald dove right, crouching behind the next car in their line. Grundy pushed the car across the concrete lot, toward where Sofia was hunkering down. 

All down the opposing line, Oswald’s opposition turned their weapons on Grundy. He advanced still, until his car crashed into Sofia’s. Oswald watched in horror and fascination as he lifted it above his head, exposing himself to enemy fire. Fortunately for him, only the Sirens or Sofia herself could hit him at this angle.

“Don’t hurt him!” Tabitha yelled, grabbing Selina and Barbara’s weapons. The car was over Grundy’s head and he walked forward with it. At once, Oswald realized his intent. He saw the horror dawn on Sofia’s face as she seemed to come to the same understanding.

Grundy slammed the car down onto her, crushing Sofia beneath it. He swung again, and a third and fourth time for good measure, Oswald supposed.

“Oh, now that’s just brutal,” Oswald said, a faint smile playing on his lips. Grundy ran back to Oswald, the opposing side too shocked— or maybe disinclined now that Sofia was done for— to fire. His steps thundered.

“Take Grundy to Ed now,” Grundy said.

“With pleasure, my friend.”

***

It wasn’t until he began driving that the reality of Edward being shot started to sink in. He could be seriously hurt. He could be dying. Oswald pressed harder on the gas. Why had he wasted time with Sofia? He hadn’t thought it through. Edward could be dead now for all he knew. He might never see him alive again. Oswald’s hands tightened at the wheel. Sofia was dead, but had it been worth this? He double parked outside the club, let them tow him. It didn’t matter. He raced inside.

“Where is Lee?” he screamed in the face of a club goer. She pointed, and he took off in that direction without waiting another moment, barely registering Grundy following behind him. He stormed through an open door, where Lee was hovering over Edward.

He was extremely pale, shirt undone as he laid on a medical table. His grip was white knuckled on the sides, stomach still bleeding intensely. Lee was digging her fingers into the wound, searching. Grundy ran up behind Oswald and roared.

“Ed!” he said, rushing the table.

“Stop!” Oswald yelled, turning and placing his hands on the behemoth’s chest even as he pushed Oswald back, the soles of his shoes squealing on the floor. “She’s helping him!”

Grundy immediately ceased moving, and Edward screamed as Lee worked. Edward’s scream seemed to propel Grundy forward another step, Oswald leaning against him as hard as he could.

“Ed?” Grundy called.

“I’m fine, buddy,” Edward said, voice strained. He screamed again. Oswald could only stand to hear it because it meant he was still alive.

“Can’t you give him an anesthetic?” Oswald asked, going to Edward’s side.

“Don’t have any,” Lee curtly replied. Edward was sweating profusely.

“He’s losing a lot of blood,” Oswald observed, panic rising.

“Don’t have that either,” Lee said. “I need to get the bullet out, it didn’t pass through.”

“Shit,” Oswald said.

“I’m going to have to make another incision, but it might be an issue,” Lee said, taking a scalpel.

“What can I do?” Oswald asked.

“Nothing, he needs blood that I don’t have,” Lee said. “I’m going to have to go for it and hope I’m fast enough.”

“We should take him to a hospital, then,” Oswald said.

“He wouldn’t make it,” Lee said with certainty.

“Can you take mine?” Oswald asked, his desperation increasing.

“Take what?” Lee asked, busy with searching for more bandages. Grundy was petting Edward’s hair and speaking to him, but Edward didn’t seem very coherent.

“My blood, can I donate my blood?” Lee paused.

“Do you know your type?”

“I’m O negative, just tell me you can do something,” Oswald said, his ire only increasing.

“I can definitely do something,” Lee assured him, grabbing an IV bag and a syringe. Within moments she had rigged the needle and tubing. “Keep your arm below your heart and above the level of the table.”

“Will do,” Oswald said as she tapped the crook of his arm, slipping the needle into the vein she found there.  

“Ed, you with me?” Lee asked. Edward whimpered something like yes. “This is gonna hurt. Stay still.” Oswald took off his belt with one hand, then folded it in two.

“Bite down on this,” he said, pressing it into Edward’s mouth. His teeth locked around it, eyes wide with fear. Oswald pried his hand off the edge of the table, taking it into his own. Edward’s grip was firm, but to Oswald it was only a relief. It meant Edward still had some strength left. He felt Edward’s grip change as Lee made the cut, though Edward did not seem to have the power to make the clench of his fist painful. That was worrisome. Edward screamed around the belt, neck straining back.

“Almost there,” Lee said, pressing into Edward with a pair of tongs. “Okay, there we go.”

“You’re doing great,” Oswald tells him. “You’re going to be okay, Edward. You’re going to be just fine.”

“It’s out,” Lee said, dropping the bullet onto the metal surgical tray. Edward sagged down with relief. “Just have to suture.” His eyes squeezed shut.

“Listen to me,” Oswald said. Edward’s brown eyes fluttered open and met Oswald’s, but his hand was becoming slack. “Ed? Don’t lose focus. Stay with me, okay? We’ll get through this, I promise.” He looked down where Lee was stitching, working quickly. He pulled the belt from Edward’s mouth and let it fall, raising his arm again.

“Thank you,” Edward said. He was having trouble staying conscious, Oswald could tell.

“Keep squeezing my hand,” Oswald told him. “Harder.” The pressure barely changed.

“We’re almost done, Ed,” Lee said.

“I can’t,” Edward said, head lolling to the side. His hand in Oswald’s went completely limp.

“Edward?” Oswald called. “Ed!”

“Shit,” Lee said. She finished the last stitch and grabbed his wrist, counting his pulse. “His blood pressure probably dropped a lot, he might be in shock. Just keep your arm elevated. I’ll get another IV set up.” Lee went back to rummaging through cabinets, coming back with a bag and grabbing a stand. She put the IV into Edward’s other arm.

“He’ll be okay, right?” Oswald asked, only very mildly panicking.

“There wasn’t any internal damage, he got very lucky.” Thank you. Edward mumbled and seemed to be coming around, Grundy continuing the nonstop repetition of stroking his hair with the same steadfast dedication as he had from the start. His fingers twitched in Oswald’s hand, then curled back around Oswald’s. Lee began taking his blood pressure.

“Welcome back,” Oswald said.

“I’ll take your IV out,” Lee said. “His blood pressure is a little low, but not dangerous. He’ll be okay.” Oswald offered her his arm, and she carefully removed it, hanging it over the rack and pressing gauze to his arm. She taped it there.

“Hey big guy,” Edward said, looking up at Grundy. “Would you go get me a glass of water?” Grundy nodded and left the room. Lee went about removing the other end of the IV from Edward’s arm, even as Oswald kept holding his hand.

“I’ll give you some painkillers to take with it,” Lee said, moving back to the cabinets.

“I’d appreciate that,” Edward said, wincing. He looked towards Oswald. “We’re going to match, now.” He took his hand from Oswald’s and reached out, laying his palm over Oswald’s stomach. Oswald couldn’t let another moment go by, but he couldn’t bring himself to act on his feelings either.

“I thought I might lose you,” Oswald said, settling for words. Edward looked away.

“Did you win?” Edward asked. “Is she gone?”

“She’s gone.”

“Great,” Lee said, turning away from the cabinets and shutting them. “Then our deal is done.”

“It is,” Oswald confirmed.

“I guess this is goodbye, then,” Edward said.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Oswald replied.

“Here,” Lee said, handing Edward two small white pills. Grundy returned with the water, coming over and handing it to Edward.

“Thanks, buddy,” Edward said. Oswald helped him sit up, wanting nothing more than to touch Edward for as long as it was welcome. He took a sip of water, then popped the pills into his mouth and drank more.

“We’ll give you two a minute,” Lee said, no doubt sensing the mood she’d interrupted. She pushed Grundy out of the door, walking them both out. Oswald took the empty glass from Edward.

“What did you mean, that this doesn’t have to be goodbye?” Edward quietly asked. Oswald put the glass down on the surgical table. He turned back to Edward and bent down, kissing him with featherlight softness. Oswald quickly pulled away.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Oswald said. “That hasn’t changed.”

“You still love me,” Edward whispered, eyes widening in wonder. Oswald hesitated a moment, then nodded.

“I don’t think I ever stopped,” he admitted. Edward took hold of his hand again.

“Come see me,” Edward said. “When you get the chance.”

“If you want me to,” Oswald cautiously replied.

“I want you to,” Edward confirmed. He reached up, pulling Oswald down by the nape of his neck for another kiss. For the first time, Oswald felt confident about his earlier promise.

They’d get through this.