DMC: Sweet Dreams

Chapter 7: Marital Bliss


Patty stood there as footsteps approached, paralyzed like a deer facing down a set of onrushing headlights. The bedroom door opened and there was Dante, every bit as fully grown now as he was in the real world. He was dressed more casually than normal, wearing a loose fitting pair of jeans and an unbuttoned red shirt that revealed his bare chest.

"So you are up then," he smirked and approached her. Patty was still far too shocked by the entire situation to be able to actually articulate herself in any remotely coherent fashion. All she could do as he drew near was stare with her wide blue eyes, her mind completely numb. When Dante reached her he took hold of her and scooped her up off the floor and into his arms. Then without another word he turned and swept out of the bedroom.

"-!" Patty tried to speak, but words completely failed her. Dante carried her as if she were still a child, through a lavish looking house that she only caught vague glimpses of. He felt warm as he held her close, and she had to actually resist the urge to snuggle up to him.

"I was going to bring you breakfast in bed," Dante said as he carried her down an extravagant carved wooden staircase, "but then I remembered that you didn't like that before. So ..." He carried her through a doorway and Patty had to hold a hand up to shield her eyes from the sudden explosion of sunlight. After a few seconds her vision adjusted to the glare and she saw that he had brought her to some kind of large glass conservatory, filled with all manner of beautiful plants and flowers and greenery.

There was a small round table set for breakfast, and Dante carried Patty over to it and gently laid her in the waiting chair, which had a soft cushion on it. She stared at the breakfast Dante had evidently prepared for her and was further astonished to see that it wasn't pizza or strawberry sundae. There was everything from bacon and eggs to a fresh jug of chilled orange juice and a pot of tea. Everything was neat and meticulous, and the smell of it all made Patty's mouth water. It was pleasantly warm here too, owing to the sunlight passing through the glass and heating the very air.

"I made you tea, not coffee," Dante went on as he helped slide her chair closer to the table, "because I remembered that didn't like coffee. The eggs are just how you like them as well."

Patty was speechless. She turned and regarded Dante intently, as if wary that someone had done away with him and taken his place. He wasn't behaving remotely the way Patty had come to expect.

"What about you?" she managed to say at last. Dante shrugged.

"Already ate. I got up a couple of hours ago and did some cleaning." He grinned a little. "You should have seen me with that apron on; I bet I looked silly in it."

Dante ... cleaning? What? Just ... no. No. Dante never cleaned. Ever. This was too much. Dante making her a perfect breakfast in this wonderful little garden, after cleaning the house? Unbelievable. Of course this was a dream, but it sure looked, smelled and felt real enough. Before Patty could say anything further, Dante leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, which quickly turned bright red. He pulled back a little and spoke in a low, almost inviting voice.

"I'm going to hit the shower," he purred, "Feel free to join me if you like, I could always use a hand to scrub away all the dirt ..."

Patty's mouth hung open and her brain ran repeated checks over those words as if doubting that they had actually been uttered, much less to her. Dante departed, leaving her sitting in the warm flower filled greenhouse alone with her breakfast.

"Ahh-hhh-hh," Patty made an odd sort of noise as she realized that yes, Dante had actually just invited her to have a shower with him. Her body temperature promptly skyrocketed, and she had to fan herself with her hand to keep from passing out. She gripped the edge of the table tight for support and breathed heavily.

"Get a grip, this is a dream," she told herself firmly. Then she moaned and slumped her head down on the table. Some dream! Morpheus had said that dreams were for fantasies as well as nightmares, and that much was certainly true. Was this her fantasy, or ... no, it was hers. There was just no way Dante would fantasize something like this. She was just a kid after all, and he'd made it clear often enough that he didn't see her that way. Patty on the other hand ... she groaned again. Maybe she did have dreams like this, she couldn't say. She rarely remembered her own dreams.

Well obviously she still needed to find a way out of here and escape the dream world. With Dante of course. But Dante was ... was ... in the shower at the moment, and Patty didn't exactly have the courage to go and tell him what needed to be done. Somehow she felt that he wouldn't bother to cover himself up if she did, and if she saw him ... saw him ... saw him like that, she'd be apt to pass out. Could you pass out in a dream? Maybe. She didn't want to find out.

So! She would wait for him to finish. And while she was waiting she might as well eat something, right? It might be dream food, but it looked utterly delicious. Lifting her head off the table, Patty got stuck in.

It really was the best breakfast she'd ever had. Heavenly, even.


After breakfast, Dante was still not out of the shower. How dirty could he possibly be, Patty wondered?

... I wish I hadn't just thought that.

If she was going to try escaping from this dream, then she might as well be properly dressed. The low cut nightgown was making her feel self-conscious, and she wanted to cover up. She returned to her bedroom and searched around for a wardrobe. It didn't take her long to find it: a massive walk in wardrobe easily as big as her bedroom itself, with everything she had ever even imagined wearing, and some things she hadn't. In fact she only had to remember a dress or outfit she'd seen once in a magazine or shop, and a moment later there it would be hanging there amidst a dozen other things.

Patty picked out a ruffled black gothic dress adorned with white ribbons, and then eagerly tried it on. As she examined herself in the full length mirror she'd used earlier, she realized that the outfit she'd picked out was perhaps a bit childish ... the kind of thing that would suit her as she was in the real world. Still, she liked it regardless and decided to stick with it. There were many more appropriately adult outfits to chose from, but she felt more at ease with this one. That thought made her head feel slightly ... strange, but the feeling quickly passed.

"You look great."

Patty spun and saw Dante standing in the doorway. Thankfully he had a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was slick with water and steam curled off him like vapors from a hot cup of tea. He entered the bedroom and dropped the towel, prompting Patty to blush furiously and spin around. Since she had been checking herself out in the mirror, this meant that she now found herself facing the mirror once more, and could in fact see Dante quite well in it. She hastily clapped her hands over her eyes, and felt so warm that she was sure steam must be rolling off herself now as well.

"Geez Dante! Put something on!" she complained. She was too young to be seeing things like that! Wasn't she? Dante chuckled.

"Still shy as ever I see. You never did grow up, did you Patty?"

Patty said nothing, instead waiting until she heard what were hopefully the sounds of Dante getting dressed. She was just about to ask if he was decent when she felt his hand on her arm. He spun her around and the next thing she knew he was kissing her, full on the lips this time. Patty opened her eyes wide and instinctively felt as if she should protest, but then she stopped herself. Wasn't this exactly what she wanted? She'd sat around during lazy afternoons, daydreaming about kissing Dante again. What did she have to complain about? Dante pulled away and smiled earnestly at Patty, who remained speechless.

"I'm the luckiest guy alive," he said, and actually sounded as if he meant it, as if he wasn't just joking around. He sounded as if he believed what he'd just said, which made the words all the more astonishing.

"Why is that exactly?" Patty asked, her voice quavering slightly. Dante gave a short laugh.

"You have to ask?"

She nodded. Dante looked at her oddly, as if wondering if she were ill or upset. "I married you, of course. Why else?" He reached up and playfully brushed his finger over the tip of her nose, which tickled her. "Listen - I recorded that show for you last night, just like you asked. It's all set up in the front room, ready to play. I have a few things to take care of, so why don't you go ahead and watch it?"

Patty nodded again, finding it difficult to speak. This whole ... dream was quite overwhelming. She knew that she should tell Dante, remind him that they were trapped and needed to escape, but for some reason she kept quiet instead. Dante seemed to sense her uneasiness and gently lifted her chin up with his thumb.

"Are you okay Patty? If there's anything wrong, tell me. Have I done something to upset you?"

"N-no! It's not that ..." and he wasn't upsetting her, not exactly. He was behaving more like she wanted him to behave, like she would imagine him as behaving during her idle daydreams. He just wasn't acting ... well, like Dante. Was that so bad? She'd always thought that Dante could do with smoothing over some of his rougher edges. Of course this wasn't real, and his behaviour was just being warped by the dream world.

So?

"It's nothing," she smiled and shook her head, "I'm fine Dante, really."

She was fine, wasn't she?


Patty gawked at the giant widescreen hi-def television that sat in the extremely cozy front room Dante had mentioned. She sat back into the squishiest and most relaxing chair she'd ever had the pleasure to sit in and raised the remote control. Sure enough there was a recording lined up, one of those sappy romance shows she loved to watch so much. In fact it was an episode she had missed because it had been bumped by some news broadcast. She'd really wanted to catch it again.

A few minutes into the episode however, the screen started to get washed out by static. The sound likewise turned to an annoying hiss and Patty frowned and tried pressing buttons on the remote to fix it. Nothing worked.

The hissing faded away, replaced with the familiar and haughty tones of Allen Lowell. There was no picture on the screen, just snow, but it was his voice sure enough.

"Patty? Are you there? Can you hear me?"

"Allen?" Patty dropped the remote and lurched forwards in her chair. "I can hear you!"

"About time," he grumbled, sounding extremely frustrated, "I have been trying to get a hold of you again. What ever is going on? You almost came round, Dante as well. Then you slipped back under, even deeper than you were before."

"I-" Patty hesitated and glanced around at her comfortable surroundings, "Morpheus switched dreams on us. Everything is ... different."

Allen sighed impatiently. "That is to be expected, but there is an other issue young lady."

"What?" Patty asked nervously. He had said 'young lady' in an very peeved sort of way.

"Why are you no longer trying to wake up? I have been striving to show you the way out for the last half an hour, but this time you haven't been even remotely receptive to my help. You have stopped making any kind of effort. Would you care to tell me why?"

Something about his tone suggested he already knew the answer to that, and Patty found it difficult to come up with some kind of explanation that wouldn't be utterly humiliating. After a protracted silence, Allen sighed wearily again.

"Morpheus has obviously realized that he cannot stop you by force, and is no doubt trying to entice you into willingly remaining asleep. I cannot guess just what kind of scenario could achieve that, but I can remind you what you must surely be aware of; none of it is real."

"I know that," Patty murmured quietly, guilt stabbing into her heavy heart. She knew that she should have told Dante and tried to wake him up, she knew what was at stake. Why hadn't she tried then?

As if she didn't know the answer to that as well ...

"Dreams can be as much a paradise as they can be a hell, Miss Patty," Allen went on, "It can be extremely difficult to walk away from them, especially when one is lucid as you are, and know just how different things are from the harsh reality of the waking world."

Patty stared at the floor in front of her, feeling the oppressive weight of responsibility envelope her like a dark cloud. And also feeling the enticing prospect of just letting that responsibility go and losing herself to this dream. "Allen," she said slowly, preparing to ask a question that she too already knew the answer to.

"Yes?"

"What will happen if I don't want to wake up?"

There was no answer. Only silence, and the dance of static on the screen in front of her. Allen didn't answer because he didn't need to, and he knew it. Obviously if she didn't want to wake up then she never would. The city would go on sleeping, its inhabitants under the complete control of a demon that enjoyed playing with their minds for amusement. And then ... who knows? One thing she did know though - if she woke up now, then everything would go back to the way it was. She would go back to being a kid again, and Dante would go back to treating her like one. She'd never have another chance to be with him like this ever again.

She'd lose him. Forever.

"All I can say, Miss Patty," Allen spoke up one final time, "Is that sometimes when our dreams come true, we learn that they aren't actually what we really wanted. I hope that this will prove to be so in this case ... for everyone's sake."

The front room was empty. Patty was gone. The static remained on the television set for a moment longer, then winked out.