Mama Gotham

A Promise

*4 years later*

A twenty-one year old Edward Nygma paced his hotel room. He had won the Whippleburn prize, he ought to be happy.

But happiness had grown hard to come by since he lost the person to share it with.

Alyssa Connors. After his argument with her four years ago, his life had gone down hill. Quickly loosing touch with Oswald, he had found himself reverting back to the shy, quiet, bully target he had been before he met her. It was sad, he had progressed so well only to fall back into his shell.

He had mixed feelings for the girl now; anger at abandoning him when she said she never would, guilt at the thought that he had been the one to drive her away. But mostly, there was just loneliness. How was he supposed to live without her when she had made herself such a dependency in his life? It was like someone had cut off one of his limbs and told him to live life unchanged.

A knock on the door made him whirl around. He opened it to find a girl, no older than ten, holding a medium sized box with a basket of muffins balanced atop it.

"You Edward Nygma?"

"Yes. Who are you?"

Ignoring his question, she held the box out to him. "My mom wanted me to drop these off. Congrats on your award."

And she was gone, quick as she'd come.

Curious, Edward shut the door behind her and set the box and basket down. The basket was full of cranberry muffins, his favorite. The box, when opened, contained a fancy tuxedo that was far nicer than the suit he'd been planning to wear to the ceremony. It even had a small green question mark pin on the lapel. Sitting next to it was a coffee mug wrapped in tissue paper with a similar green question mark.

The only note was a riddle. 'You can not see me, and can not keep me until you have given me. What am I?'

The answer was simple. A promise.

But there was more underneath.

'No matter what happens to you, I always wanna be part of what happens to you. You did good Eddie, I'm proud of you.'

Only one person had ever called him Eddie.

******

'The population of street kids has been dwindling for quite a while now, and we finally know why: they've been taken in by a rich philanthropist known to the kids as 'Mama Gotham.'

'Mama lets us sleep in the hotel she owns if we work at one of her restaurants.' says Ryan, age fourteen.

The so called 'Mama Gotham' owns four restaurants, two bars, and a hotel throughout the city, all with a staff full of Gotham's street kids. It seems that there is a light in this city after all.'

******

Oswald Cobblepot set the paper down as the young boy brought him his coffee. He had been looking through the want adds, desperately needing a job.

"Thank you." he nodded at the boy, who turned to walk off but stopped when the bell above the door jingled.

"Mama!"

"Hello Quincy. Usual please, I'm in a bit of hurry."

Oswald froze. He knew that voice. But it couldn't be....

He turned in his chair. "Alyssa...."

The woman looked up, clearly as surprised as he was. "Ozzy. Long time, no see."