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You looked out over the crazed streets of Gotham, the police sirens in the background doing nothing to soothe your raging mind. For years, you've been known as a ruthless, heartless criminal. You were trained from a young age to kill. You were a weapon. You were brainwashed. You knew you had killed numerous people. You just couldn't remember them all now. You managed to escape the grips of Hugo Strange and made it out into the streets of Gotham City, the place you've called home since you could remember.
And it seems that one Oswald Cobblepot is responsible for breaking you out. You only knew of him from word around the city. But didn't know him personally. You knew he was practically the king of Gotham. He made a name for himself. And as you continued on your journey, confused and just hoping no one would stop you, you suddenly came to a building you knew all too well.
Your apartment building. When life was simple. You could do anything you wanted from within it and not be judged. Not be used. You just did what you wanted, when you wanted. No one to listen to. No one to boss you around. And that's how you liked it. But as you came to the door leading up into the apartments, you were stopped by a hand on your shoulder. And you almost went into attack mode, until you realized just who it was standing behind you.
"Good evening friend." Oswald Cobblepot. The one and only. This was someone you've always respected highly. His story was a lot like yours. You both used to be thrown around and used. Played with as if you were nothing. But you both finally broke free and ended anyone that got in your way.
"Uh... hello Mr. Cobblepot." He simply smiled at your nervousness, not seeming to want to hurt you or anything. He seemed more interested than anything.
"I figured you'd do better out here than in Arkham. I think you and I would be a great team." You eyed him a moment, really surprised. But yet, flattered. He actually wants to work with you? It's definitely your day. But you could hardly remember anything that you have done in your past. But the things you did remember, made you feel so awful. The screams. The blood. The pain. The sadness. The madness. All of it drove you crazy at night.
"Mr. Cobblepot? I just.... I don't know if I want this anymore. I don't feel... right about it." His eyes went wide in surprise, seemingly wondering just how messed up your mind was while in Arkham. And you could only imagine.
"Dear friend. This is something I struggled with myself thanks to Strange. But at the end of the day, we are what we are. We do what we do. And we can't apologize for that. I never will." You looked on in surprise yourself at this man who was practically the driving force for your life. He was like the poster boy for being yourself and not letting anyone control you. And you admired that. He softly walked closer to you, his signature limp causing a tiny smile to break onto your face for the first time in a long time.
"And you shouldn't either (Y/N)." You smiled a little, when you flung your arms around Oswald in a tight embrace, honestly very thankful that he helped you. He saved you.
"Thank you Oswald..." You could feel his smile as he finally hugged you back, making you feel comfort for the first time in a long time as well. So maybe you would be okay. Maybe this really is how you were meant to be. And Oswald helped you see that.
