Used to the Darkness || V.Z.

"Sanity is widely overrated." Oswald kept mumbling, limping through the wet grass of Gotham cemetery. It was raining, but the rain didn't even seem to touch the man, a thick layer of thoughts was his shelter. In his mind, the cycle of events that had just occurred kept repeating itself: the release from Arkham, the meeting with Butch, the reaction of Ed. The little man really did not understand how even the latter, whom he considered as his best friend, could have dismissed him so coldly, on the pretext of being scared of this new sane version of him.

The course of these thoughts was abruptly interrupted when Oswald found what he was looking for.

Under the lower branch of the old oak tree that stood in the center of the cemetery, there was a simple gray stone stele. Engraved in capital letters was the name Gertrude Kapelput, along with the year of birth and that of death.

"Hello, Mother." Oswald said, glancing melancholy at the grave. "What a lovely spot." He sniffled, while some warm tear started to wet his red cheeks. "I'm so sorry I couldn't be here for the funeral, but I think you'd be proud of me. I'm a changed man. Or, at least I'm trying to be. To be honest, I don't know if I'm gonna make it without you." He confessed. His lips folded in a half-smile as he relived all the moments spent together in his mind.

Not far away, an older man watched him talking to the tombstone. He was elegantly dressed and carried a bouquet of white flowers. The surprise of not being alone, like every other day, was evident on his face, as was the genuine curiosity that shone in his eyes.

"Hello?" The man spoke, deciding to make his presence known. "I'm terribly sorry, I don't mean to interrupt." He humbly apologized.

Oswald was quick to pass a hand over his damp eyes. "Not at all." He replied politely. A chuckle left his lips, noticing the flower bouquet. "Lilies." He stated, pointing at them.

"Her favorite if memory serves." The man nodded, smiling.

"Yes, they were." Oswald confirmed. "Did you know her?" He asked him.

"A long time ago. I found her again only in death, I'm afraid." He nodded, a sad smile forming on his lips at the memory. "I'm Elijah Van Dahl." He introduced himself, holding out his free hand.

"Oh, Oswald Cobblepot." Owsald replied, shaking it.

Upon hearing his name, Mr. Van Dahl's eyebrows frowned for surprise. "Cobblepot? You're related to Gertrude?" He inquired immediately.

"My mother." Oswald explained.

"Mother?" He muttered incredulously. "You're Gertrude's son?" He asked him, beginning to suspect the impossible.

"Yes." Oswald nodded again, confused by his sudden change of attitude. "I'm sorry. How did you know my mother, exactly?" He demanded.

The wrinkles on the man's forehead frowned even more. Not a breath came out of his lips as he turned his eyes wide open and damp toward the tombstone. "How old are you?" He suddenly inquired, feeling in his heart the urgent need to have an answer to the question that was in his head.

Osswald gave him a confused look, not understanding why his age could be relevant. "Excuse me?" He mumbled after a moment.

"How old are you?" Mr Van Dahl asked him again impatiently. "Gertrude left-"

"I'm thirty-one." He then answered.

"Thirty-one years ago, yes. That's right." The man said, the astonishment evident in his tone of voice. "Oh my god. She never told me." He went on, holding a shocked expression on his face.

"Told you what?" asked Oswald, who was still trying to understand the situation.

"That I had a son." He replied.

In a moment, everything was clear to Oswald. He widened his eyes and opened his lips, but he realized he had no breath to speak. He had just met his father.

· ♛ ·

With his head comfortably resting on the car window, Oswald watched the trees flow along the avenue. Their branches were now almost completely bare, marking the end of autumn and the arrival of the winter season.

When his father had offered him a room in his house, he immediately accepted. He didn't have anywhere else to go after all, and he wasn't sure that if he asked one of his old acquaintances for hospitality, he wouldn't end up taking a door to his face.

Elijah stopped the car in front of an ancient manor. The dark stone outer walls stood out against the orange colours of the evening sky. In the distance, you could see the high skyscrapers of Gotham touching the blanket of clouds that used to cover the city.

"Ah, home sweet home." The older man murmured, passing an arm around his son's shoulders, who was staring at the building with wide eyes. "Come, my boy. It's warmer inside." He said to him smiling and inviting him to walk towards the entrance.

Oswald smiled in turn.

The interior of the house resembled a Victorian residence. The precious dark wood furniture, the golden decorations along the doorjambs and windows, the crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, the fireplaces rich in decorations, one for each room. Oswald had the feeling of being in a castle.

· ♛ ·

That evening, after relaxing in a warm bath and wearing a soft embroidered robe, Oswald sat down at a perfectly laid table in the library.

"Gertrude came to work as a cook for my parents. She was so young and beautiful. So full of life. So beautiful." Elijah began telling him, as he poured hot soup into his plate. "I was young then, too. A boy, really. A foolish, romantic boy." He smiled, sitting in front of him.

Oswald listened carefully to every word. His eyes shone with curiosity as he began to enjoy the first hot meal he could eat after a very long time.

"When my parents found out, they forbade us from being together. I was the heir to a great fortune, they said. And she was just a cook. I threatened to run away with her. Turn my back to my family name and my inheritance. It was the first and only time I ever stood up to them. They must have known my words were just that. A spoiled child, making idle threats. The next day Gertrude was gone. My parents told me only that they had come to an arrangement. She would be taken care of and I must never make an attempt to find her. And to my shame, I didn't. I let them separate us. I had no idea..." Elijah's voice broke, making Oswald stop eating immediately and stare at him with damp eyes. "She never told me she was pregnant. She didn't tell me about you. If she did-"

"She told me that my father had died when I was still a baby." Oswald interrupted him.

"Easier than the truth I suppose. That your father was a coward who wouldn't stand up to his parents. She must have figured that the two of you would be better off making your own way. Which, in fact, is probably the truth." Elijah resumed, after composing himself. "Look at you. Strong young man." He said, standing up and heading towards him. "She did a good job, didn't she?" He smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"She tried." Oswald chucked, rising from his chair too.

"We both miss her terribly." His father told him gravely. "My poor boy, you've been all alone in the world." He then added, looking down at him with sad eyes.

"Yes. I have." Oswald confirmed in a whisper.

"No longer. You have a home, and a father, and a family." Elijah stated, reassuring him with a wide smile.

"A family?" Oswald asked, his eyes glimmering with hope.

"A big, happy family." His father nodded."They are going to be so thrilled to meet you." He told him, the excitement clear in his voice.

Oswald felt almost melt under the warm, loving look of the older man. He stared at him like he was a vision, afraid he would disappear at any moment. "Sir, please, tell me truthfully, is this a dream?" He asked him.

"It's not a dream, my boy. You're home." Elijah assured him, holding him in a tight embrace.

Oswald let tears of joy fall on his cheeks, abandoning himself in his father's arms.

"Come now. There's someone I'd like you to meet." The man announced with a smile, releasing his hold on his son, who gave him a questioning look. "She should still be awake." He just added, heading towards the stairs.

Oswald had no idea who he was referring to. Elijah had hardly told him anything about his family and had not even mentioned that there was someone else in the house with them. So he simply followed him.

"I'm sorry Grace is out this evening. She took Sasha and Charles to buy some new clothes, and they stayed in the City for dinner. But Brooke rarely leaves the house. You see, her health is very fragile and Grace worries that she might fall ill." His father told him.

Again, Oswald did not recognize any of the names, but he expected that he would meet each of those people shortly.

"I understand." He nodded, learning about the girl's health. From the way he talked about her, it seemed that Elijah was particularly fond of her.

They stopped in front of a dark wooden door at the end of a corridor, on the second floor.

"Brooke?" The man called, knocking twice. "Brooke, dear, are you awake?"

The muffled sound of a series of heavy footsteps was heard coming from inside the room. Then a laud thud, immediately followed by a "damn it."

The door opened, revealing a girl in her mid-twenties. She had beautiful long and wavy hair, dark brown, like her eyes. She gave them a charming smile, leaning against the doorjamb with her arms crossed.

"I hope we're not disturbing." Elijah said politely, his eyes glowing as he looked down at her.

"You're never disturbing, Elijah. Please come in." She replied, letting them in and closing the door. "I'm truly sorry for the mess." She added, pointing at the books and the papers that were scattered throughout the room, together with some clothes and electronic devices.

"Don't worry about it, my dear." The man chuckled. "Brooke, I'd like to introduce you to my son, Oswald." He then said, nodding towards him.

"Hi. It's a pleasure to meet you." Oswald smiled and hold out his hand for her to shake.

She froze on the spot. Her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted. The notorious "Penguin" was in her bedroom, standing right in front of her.

She stared down at his hand for a moment before taking it. "Hi. Sorry. Likewise." She eventually said, giving him a small grin. "It's just...this is so unexpected. I had no idea you had another son." She added, turning to Elijah.

"Me neither until this afternoon. We found each other, at Gertrude's grave. She reunite us." He replied, the smile never leaving his lips.

"I'm truly happy for both of you." Brooke told them in a kind voice.

"Thank you, my dear." The older man murmured.

"Yes, thank you." Oswald echoed him.

"Ah, you were writing, weren't you? A new book?" Elijah suddenly asked her, pointing at the computer on the bed behind her.

Brooke was surprised by how easily he changed the subject, but still try to answer. "Oh, yes. I've started a-"

"You should know, Oswald, that Brooke is a wonderful writer. She spends hours and hours typing on that computer of hers, composing beautiful works." He interrupted her, starting to talk about her with pride.

She was used to it, so she jut smiled. "Come on, Elijah, too much flattery at once is not good for my ego." She then replied sarcastically.

"It's not flattery if it's the truth." Elijah chuckled. "But we won't disturb you any longer, go back to your book. Have a good night, my dear." He then added, heading towards the door.

"Goodnight, Brooke." Oswald told her, following his father out.

"Good night." She said to the both of them, before calling Oswald's name, causing him to stop and turn around to face her. "It was really nice meeting you. I hope you can feel at home here, and, well, I'm always here if you need anything." She told him, giving him a warm smile.

"Thank you, Brooke. This means so much to me." He muttered, surprised by the sudden sweetness of her words.

"Of course. You should rest know, you look like someone who could really use a good sleep." She replied. "Just tell Elijah you're tired. He's so excited about your reunion that he could go on talking all night if you don't stop him." She then added, walking him to the door.

"Yes. He probably could. Thanks for the advice." He chuckled softly, limping out.

"You're welcome." She simply said.

"Well, goodnight. Again." He told her.

"Goodnight, Oswald." She smiled and closed the door.