Disclaimer: Still wish I owned Hot in Cleveland, still don't. This chapter's title is a play on The Hours and I don't own that either.
The clock struck the hour. Victoria pressed the photo of her sister on her nightstand down, so that she could only see the back of the frame, and flew from her bed, through her room and across the hall. She pushed Joy's door open and moved to her bedside as swiftly as she could without making any noise. The girl thrashed in her bed, as if entrapped by her own nightmare. It would be enough to make anyone cry, she told herself, feeling another lump welling in her throat, it didn't mean anything. She pulled Joy's tangled hair from her sweaty brow, brushing her forehead with her lips, compassionately. As she did, Joy shuddered into consciousness, eyes snapping open. She breathed "Victoria," before descending into sobs. Her friend shifted to lie beside her, pulling her into her arms. Joy gripped her twice as tightly as she wept. She'd never have known it was possible to cry so hard. After a few minutes, Joy began to calm down, and her tears began to subside.
"What is it?" Victoria rubbed her back, tenderly. The empathy she was congratulated on maintaining in TV was a damn sight more genuine than she would ever have dreamed of letting on in public.
"Bad dream," the girl choked, and the actress murmured "Me, too."
"What was yours about?" Victoria bit her lip and looked in the other direction. Now was definitely not the time to say "Well, as it happens, it was all about your death."
"My sister. She hanged herself when we were kids. I dreamed that she came back to haunt me," she raised her eyebrows, ironically, hoping that her attempt to evade the question wasn't too painfully obvious.
"What about you?" This time, it was Joy avoiding Victoria's gaze.
"It's complicated."
"You know you can tell me anything," the actress whispered. Joy felt her heart begin to melt.
"Promise me nothing will change if I do?"
Victoria almost laughed. It was just so ironic. As if it could…oh, shit. Sensing that she was getting in far too deep, she shook her head, and, sounding extraordinarily weary, told her "I promise." It was too late now. She'd already stepped into the quicksand.
Joy didn't move for a few seconds. Realising she was gawping in what was quite possibly the most unattractive fashion in existence at how honestly and unreservedly Victoria had given her the promise she'd asked for, she shook herself, closed her eyes, and launched into her unhappy narrative.