© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Twenty Six-Dream a little dream

~Arabella Jones~

I woke with a start, all of my muscles clenching as my eyes snapped open. My heart was hammering in my chest, and I was breathing deeply through my nose. My eyes scanned the room around me, recognising all of it in a sickeningly familiar way. The purple walls, the green, white and red pillows, the window with a gleaming lock on it and the Joker, lying next to me in bed. His make-up was practically all gone, and the upper half of his body was bare. Confusion and fear rippled through every part of me, causing tingles to prick at my spine like needles.

The Joker caught hold of my shaking fingers, speaking with his eyes closed. I thought he was still sleeping. "Everything okay, doll? It seemed like you weren't very happy in your sleep." His voice was low and husky, still full of sleep.

"What...what was the last thing that happened?" I asked quietly, making the clown open his eyes. There was worry in his brown, more like black, orbs but I urged him on by nodding my head.

"We were telling each other things about ourselves, dark things. You got scared, and fell asleep in my arms. You've been out for a while, and I joined you eventually. The whole time you've been tossing and turning and crying out in your sleep. What were you dreaming about?" The pictures flooded my mind, but I didn't recall falling asleep in the Joker's arms.

I sat myself up, not quite understanding what was going on. "I dreamt that you let me come along with one of your little mission things."

"Well, that's crazy. I'd never let you come, it's too much of a risk."

"And then, I killed a load of people and we both got sent to Arkham by Batman. I had this psychiatrist, Doctor Morgan...I think. And I befriend this guard, Sargent Parker or-or was it Paul? - I can't remember, anyway he broke us out of there and we were running. And then...and then I woke up." The Joker remained silent, as if waiting for me to continue. I ran my fingers through my hair, taking a shaky breath. "It was so real; I actually thought that I'd been sent to Arkham. The psychiatrist, I remember thinking that he was badly crazy and I remember referring to Parker...Paul...Whatever his name is...as one of the goons. I'm so confused." I rested my head in my hands, feeling frustrated. I wanted to scream, not understanding how something could be so real.

I couldn't have been real though. For when I looked down at myself, I saw that I was wearing exactly what I had been wearing when I opened up to the Joker. The more time went on, the more the 'dream' began to fade, images blurring together and chunks drifting away. I couldn't remember exactly what had happened, how had I supposedly killed those people again? I felt a hand place itself between my shoulder blades, before being pulled against a solid, warm body. "Don't worry, doll. It was just a dream."

"It was so scary. I was separated from you, and I didn't know if you were dead or alive until I saw you in the glass cell, the exact same glass cell that you used to stay in when I treated you. I should've known it wasn't real. Like a guard would bust us out of Arkham, and he changed way too much in the dream. At first he was really scrawny and weak, and by the end his was this butch and really commanding dude with a lot of authority." I shook my head, rubbing over my eyes.

The Joker pressed a kiss to my head, chuckling lightly. "Only you, doll. Only you could say that you should've known your dream was a dream because some guy went from being skinny to muscular too quickly." I grinned into his chest, feeling blood rush to my cheeks a little.

"I need a shower. Can you make me something to eat?"

"I can't, because I don't exactly want to accidentally kill or poison you. So I'll get one of my goons onto it while you shower." I laughed while standing from the bed, heading straight for the shower.

I blew a playful kiss over my shoulder to the clown before closing the door, switching on the shower before stripping off my clothes. The hot water and soft bubbles felt like bliss against my raw muscles and irritated skin. I didn't know how tired I was until I realised that it was all a dream, I had never slept so deeply before. The deeper the sleep, the more realistic the dream. Now that I was waking up and coming back to my senses, logic was kicking in and reassuring my concerned thoughts. But still, the dream was horrifyingly realistic.

Details were fading, like with most dreams, and I could only remember the basic and most important parts. Like getting sent to Arkham, by Batman or Robin, and not being able to see the Joker, and then having that guard-Parker or Paul it was one of them-break us out somehow. I shook the pictures from my mind, focusing on cleaning my body. It felt good to be clean; sweat and dirt had been clinging to my body for days now. My hair was a mess, but it wouldn't be once I was done.

I stepped out of the shower, running the towel over my body before scrubbing my hair with it. Wrapping it around my body once more, I left the bathroom, steam following behind me. The room was cold compared, making goosebumps prickle on my skin. On the bed, sat a tray with all manner of luxuries on it. Strawberries dipped in chocolate, toast with jam lathered on it, a bowl of vibrant, juicy fruits, a couple freshly baked croissants, a mug of hot chocolate and a glass of fresh apple juice. There was also a note on the tray which I picked up gently to read.

Bella doll,

I may not have made the food, but the food is made for a queen. However, I poured the apple liquid and brought the lot to the room. I was planning on waiting, but something came up. I've had to leave urgently, but should be home within the hour. Enjoy the food, and rest for a while, you deserve it.

Love, Jack.

My eyes scanned over the paper, reading it over and over until the words finally stuck. Love, Jack. The two, simple words made my heart pound and hands tremble. It was one of the sweetest and most precious things I'd ever had done for me, and then there was every other gorgeous thing that the Joker had written. The hot chocolate was still warm, but not piping hot; leaving me to assume that he had left not too long before I got out of the shower. I placed the note back onto the tray, deciding to get dressed and then eat the feast. The feast for a queen. A small part of me was squealing like a little girl inside, but I did my best to hide it.

The note was so perfect. There was no fault with it whatsoever, and it would definitely be something that I'd treasure forever. The food was delicious, and the drink was made exactly how I liked it. Whoever the Joker 'hired' to make my food and drink, definitely knew how to satisfy a hungry girl. He was so perfect, my Joker. Everything about him was addictive, and the more he did things like this, the closer I was pulled in. The relationship was irresistible, and there was no way that I was going to ever get out. Not alive anyway.

I sat on the steps before the double doors, fear prickling at every nerve in my body. He said he'd be back within the hour. It was now three quarters past. After last night's dream, where the Joker never returned for he'd been sent to Arkham, my body was rippling with fright. What if he really had been captured and sent to Arkham this time? Or worse, what if he was dead or beaten into unconsciousness? I tried my best to remain calm, but as time continued, I found myself almost in tears with fear.

When the Joker eventually came back, half an hour into the next hour, I was a mess. I had claw marks on my skin from where my nails had dug in while I tried to remain calm. My lips were sore from where I'd bitten or licked over them so many times. I remained sat on the stairs, even when the Joker stood before me. One by one, the goons disappeared until he was by himself. My whole body was shaking violently, with anger and fear still.

I got up from the stairs, and shoved the Joker so hard on the chest that he stumbled back. "Why are you so late?" I screamed at him. "I've been scared out of my mind! Did you not listen to a word I said earlier?" I hammered my fists against his chest, breathing deeply as hot tears trickled down my face. The Joker caught both my wrists, stopping them from hitting him. I looked up at him, ready to scream and resist against him and his excuses. I watched as his eyes softened, and like that I collapsed into his arms. Tears poured down my face as I held him close to me. I clenched onto his body, not allowing him to move in case he left again.

Eventually the tears died down, and my hold on the Joker became weaker and looser. Still holding onto him, and he must've wrapped his arms around me while I was too busy crying to notice for now he remained to hold me, I pressed my forehead to his chest. "I hate you." I whispered with a weak voice. We both knew that I didn't mean the words.

"No you don't." He replied softly, kissing the top of my head.

"You scared me. I thought you really had been taken, or you were hurt or dead or..." I trailed off, feeling fresh tears layer my eyes. He hushed me quietly, pushing my head up from the chin.

When our eyes connected, he leant forward and pressed a kiss to my lips. He had applied a fresh layer of greasepaint, so we both knew that I'd have patches of red and white on my face, not that either of us cared. I pulled away eventually, gasping for air. "Never, ever scare me like that again. Promise."

"I promise."

"You owe me now. Come to bed with me, just hold me and let me sleep. I don't want another dream like before." I dropped my arms from the Joker, remaining to hold his hand. "And if I have a nightmare-"

"I'll wake you up, I promise."

My head rested against the clown's chest, focusing on his steady breathing and beating heart. He refused to sleep, content on making sure that I didn't have a nightmare. "I'll be okay; I'll most likely kick you if I'm that scared." I told him, trying to get him to get some rest himself.

"No way, you sleep and I'll stay awake. You don't need another one of those dreams." Giving up, I simply hummed back at him and closed my eyes.

"Your choice." I said lightly, kissing the clothing that covered his chest. "I'll get you to sleep at some point though."

The clown was stubborn, and throughout the whole night he refused to sleep or even try. He was exhausted the next day, and so I promised him he could sleep then and I'd stay with him, watching and making sure he slept well. I was fully rested, having not had a single nightmare throughout the whole night. Any dream that I could remember was sweet and calming, something I needed after that other one. As for that realistic nightmare, it soon faded into being nothing. No worry or fear, and I soon could no longer remember the events of the dream. I was completely, and utterly, unfazed.