Birds of a Feather (Oswald Cobblepot)

Your Own Private Wonderland

  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.