Oswald didn’t say a word as he’d silently look through your phone.

He never thought himself as the kind of boss to micromanage, but after seeing your expression shift.. the way that it had, the man instantly knew something was up, and demanded to see.

And, he should have expected this. The man could feel your anxious stare burning a hole into his head as he’s continue to read. You were making plans, with some.. girl. To run. To run to goddamn California, because she wanted a better life than what she had in Gotham.

“So, you think you’re too fucking good for this now, huh?” he’d demand, roughly jabbing a finger into your chest. Honestly, he was a little hurt. You were one of the few he trusted. Took you in like his own mentee after he.. sort of.. forcefully made you work for him, but that was besides the point.

He had taught you so much shit. How to drive. How to run from the cops. How to get the best slush puppy flavor at the local gas station he regularly took you to.

And, sure. He knew it was likely a faze. Many in this.. line of “work” went through something similar. Even Oz himself, but, it was different with you. Because Oz needed you. “You think you’re a damn saint now? After all the shit you’ve done? All the shit you’ve seen me done, and didn’t stop me?”

He found you when you were at your lowest. Right after the events with the whole.. “Riddler” shenanigans, where that sick fuck flooded nearly an entire third of Gotham’s slums. Your parents were killed. An orphan street rat. You tried to steal his car back then, and Oz gifted you generosity instead of the barrel of his gun pressed against your head. And this is how you repay him. Falling for some girl who’d probbaly leave you in the dust.