Title; A Henchman's Burden
Rating; PG
Pairing; Oswald/Gabe
Word Count; 1327
Warnings; One sided and angsty, also unbeta'd and kinda meh
Notes; I'm sorry, I had a lot of feelings D:
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.
But that was just Gabe's burden to bear.
