Chapter 57

The Trickster's jumpsuit melts off of Oswald to reveal his dark suit. Straightening it out, he looks up at me, smiling.

"Time to wake up now," he repeats, holding out his hand expectantly, "you know you're in a dream, correct?"

"I know," I mumble.

He shakes his head, "No, I don't think you know anymore. Or, you don't want to admit it."

Oswald begins stepping forward, approaching me, "Let me help you remember."

The Trickster's float comes to a stop, and with the street empty, the world comes to a different kind of standstill. He takes my hand, and leans in, closing his eyes...

"Natalie, what's going on?" it's dream Ed, clad in a navy blue blazer and a crinkled white dress shirt.

"Ed!" I exclaim, running toward him.

Oswald rolls his eyes, "Oh, the other man."

I leap into Ed's arms, letting him lift me up and spin me around. Oswald crosses his arms and pouts, "He's not real, now let's go."

"You don't have to listen to him," Ed counters, "you could stay here."

I beam at him, smiling at the man I've known all my life, but at the same time I don't know at all. It's true, I could theoretically stay with dream Ed, live the perfect life constructed here, but...Oswald is right, it's not real, is it? I would be living the perfect life, but it wouldn't really be a life to begin with.

Running my hand through Ed's hair, I kiss him one last time on the cheek, "I'm sorry Ed. Oswald's right, you're not real. You're...everything I could ever ask for, but that's just not realistic. I know I could never get Ed to style his hair or dress this nice, but that's fine. I love him anyway, just as much as I love you."

I reluctantly leave Ed's embrace, his hands trailing down my arms and not letting go until the tips of my fingers are out of his reach. Standing in front of him, we continue to smile at each other.

He gives a weary sigh, "Don't worry Natalie, I'll always be in your heart," he presses his finger onto the left side of my chest, "well, technically, I'm actually here," he moves his finger up to my forehead, "but you get the gist."

I chuckle, of course Ed would do that. Turning around, I face an impatient Oswald. He may not be the most appealing option, but he's the real one.

"Alright Oswald, let's go," I mumble, and before he can say anything, I run up to him, throwing myself into his arms, closing my eyes, and kissing him on the lips.

The black clouds of nothingness begins to fade, and my vision slowly returns to me. The feeling of Oswald's lips on mine is still present, and as my eyes open, I realize that I'm actually kissing Oswald.

Pulling away, my arm loses its grip and I fall back onto the concrete ground. Looking past Oswald, it becomes apparent that we're in a large, dark room, with only a few dimly lit hanging lights to illuminate the room.

"Surprised?" he chuckles, leaning over me and smirking.

I look into his pale green eyes, examining his expression of sheer satisfaction, "Wha-what happened?"

Oswald offers his hand, and I take it, sitting up. Looking around, I realize we are far from alone. Dozens of other people are lying down on the ground, quietly whispering in their sleep. As I listen in, I realize they're not just speaking their own words, but of others' as well. They're saying everything everyone in their dream is saying, that's how Oswald was able to know what everyone in my dream was saying.

"They're all...dreaming?" I ask, clutching Oswald's arm for support.

He nods, "You were just doing the same, until of course, I rescued you. When we held hands, I could communicate with you in your dream...holding you...just like I am now."

Oswald reaches out with his other hand, taking my other arm and pulling me toward him. Still in a daze, I allow him to bring me into his arms, but glancing over his shoulder, my eyes widen as I notice him pulling out his pocketknife from his jacket.

I push him away, "Oswald...I'm grateful, really but...this doesn't change anything between us. And besides, we need to worry about waking up all these other people-"

"Well, I see someone is awake," a scratchy, raspy tone echoes through the room.

I stand as a long shadow reaches through from the other side of the dimly lit room. From a door in the corner of the room, a short, hunched man stands in the doorway, his poor posture somewhat compensated by his top hat. This must be the man who's been kidnapping all of these people, but, who is he? And why is he doing this?

"What was it like? A utopian society, perfect as ever? Or a tyrannical kingdom of only your design? Tell all my dear," the man beckons, fiddling with his gloved hands.

I carefully begin stepping toward the man, "Who wants to know?"

"I am but a simple man, a keeper of dreams, if you will. I mean no harm, I only wish to fulfill people's dreams."

"By kidnapping them and putting them into comatose states?" I counter.

"Dreams can not come true in the real world. This world only brings pain and loss. That's why I devised a drug that will transport them into a world of dreams. Their own private Wonderland," the man reaches behind his back and pulls out a syringe filled with a thick, dark green liquid, "now Alice, Wonderland is waiting."

Charging at me with the syringe, I dodge him, leaping to the side. Holding the syringe out in front of him, he swings it like a sword, attempting to jab me with the needle. Suddenly, the man lurches back as Oswald grabs him from behind. In a quick motion, the man stabs Oswald in the arm with the needle, injecting the fluid inside.

"Oswald!" I cry as Oswald stumbles backwards and hits the ground.

Oswald flutters his eyes open. He's lying down on the most plush bed he's ever experienced. Several embroidered pillows line the bed that's pushed back against the wall. Facing the bed, Oswald turns around to the rest of the room. The walls are a translucent crystal blue, that shine as if they were made of glass. He stumbles out of bed, where is he? The moment his feet touch the ground, he practically trips over the slippery surface, balancing himself while his feet glide across the floor. Tentatively leaning down, he touches the floor, and discovers its cold, and leaves a bit of condensation on his fingers. This is...ice?

"Oswald, you're finally awake sleepyhead," a warm, youthful voice calls out.

He turns around to find Trixie leaning by the doorway, adorned in his mother's old dress, the one lent to her on the day they met. He'd always thought it looked beautiful on her, and wondered why she hasn't asked to wear it again.

Trixie takes slow steps to cross the room to Oswald, the swaying skirt of the dress emphasizing her generous hips. Wait, she was just in her dream world, then...is this his? Testing his theory, he grabs her by the waist, pulling her forward.

She giggles mischievously, "Oh, for so early in the morning you certainly are feisty."

A wide smile stretches ear to ear on Oswald's face. He can do whatever he wants, and boy, does he have plans.

He kisses her on the lips, thrusting himself at her so that he can feel the contact heat of her body. He releases his lips from hers, she's always the one who lets go first, it's nice to be the reluctant one for once.

She chuckles, "Oh Oswald...I don't need sex to love you."

Floored by her words, Oswald's heart begins to race as he pulls her into a tight hug, squeezing her as hard as he can. While this may be just as true in the real world as it is here, it's all the more wonderful just to hear her say it.

Trixie hugs him back in a less harsh manner, running her hand down his back, "But let me guess...you want to have sex anyw-"

"Yes," he snarls, interrupting her, before lifting her up and throwing her onto the bed. He was never strong enough to carry her in the real world, but here, she's light as a feather.

Climbing up onto the bed with her, they kiss once more, Oswald grasping her shoulders and pushing her onto her back. Trixie latches her hands onto his shoulders, and out of the corner of his eye he notices something shiny reflecting against the ice walls on her left hand. Grabbing her wrist, he pulls it in front of him. A wedding ring. His palms now shaking with anticipation, he looks at his own left hand to find an identical wedding ring on his left ring finger. He kisses his ring, before taking Trixie's hand and kissing her ring.

"Married...yes, that makes sense," he mumbles to himself, "of course we'd be married...we're married! Haha...ha…"

"Ozzy my boy, up already?" Mother walks in, smiling.

"M-mother!" Oswald stutters, leaping off of Trixie.

Mother chuckles, "Oh, love is always in the air with you two. It makes me feel young again."

He begins to stand, "Mother...you, approve of our relationship?"

"Of course, dear, now should I prepare breakfast or leave you two alone for a while?" she smiles, giving a suggestive wink, now speaking in a straight American accent.

Mother's accent is gone...he'd always been so embarrassed those few times she'd shown up at his school, all the other boys' mothers were so idyllically American compared to his, sporting modern dresses and accompanied by servants. And while he'd loved her dearly despite this, now...even all the little imperfections have been fixed.

"No thank you Mom," Oswald declines, before placing his hand on Trixie's upper thigh, "I already have breakfast all worked out."

Trixie and Mother simultaneously giggle, "Well Ozzy, if that's how you want it."

Mother leaves the room, as Trixie gets up from the bed. She walks over to a nearby desk, where several rolled up pieces of paper lie to one side, "The new posters just came in, want to have a look?"

"P-posters? For what?" he inquires.

She raises an eyebrow, "For your reelection, of course," Trixie picks up a poster and flips it out, revealing a proud drawing of Oswald standing in front of a miniature Gotham City, with the caption "Cobblepot for Mayor" on the bottom.

A grin stretches ear to ear on Oswald's high cheekbones. Could this get any better?

"Humor me...what happened to that...that pushover Mayor James?" he asks.

She smiles, rolling the poster back up, "He was just that: a pushover. And you pushed him over, if you catch my drift."

Striding back to the bed, Trixie unzips her dress from the back, "Now, I grow tired of these preliminaries, and you promised me a little fun, so..." pushing him down onto his back, she climbs up on top of him, the dress beginning to peel off from her shoulders, revealing her bra straps, "...touch me Oswald."

Author's Note:

Fuchsia Grasshopper: Yeah, as I've stated before, this arc is an adaption of a "Batman: the Animated Series" episode "Perchance to Dream". And yes, it's weird, and costing me numbers in terms of reviews, but I wanted a break from the routine and to create something that stands out from among the usual Oswald x OC stories. As for the show right now, they sort of pushed Oswald to the background, with only two or three scenes with him and Butch, which works for me since that means I can use a storyline in which Oswald is more involved. And I'd like to say that Natalie does find a little bit of herself within the world of her dream, and now its Oswald's turn ;)

Thanks! :)