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“Five, four…” Jim closed his eyes and smiled to himself. “Three, two…” The stale air of the cathedral would normally bother him, but the sound of her laughter echoing up the stairway was all he could think of.
“One!” He called, bounding up the stairs two at a time. He heard her giggle somewhere out of sight.
“Find me!” She called back, childlike glee in her voice. “Find me, Jim!”
He grinned, rounding the landing and finding another flight of stairs. The tower of Gotham Cathedral was taller than he had thought. He sprinted faster, and thought he caught sight of weightless white tulle whisking around the next corner.
His legs began to ache, and he was breathing heavily. Why was he chasing her? He felt anger blossom in his chest without reason. “Barbara!” He shouted, feeling his voice reverberate through the tower. “Come on!”
“Find me!” She called again, and Jim felt the anger swell. There was no point to this, especially on their wedding day. He was getting sweaty in his tuxedo. She would tear her dress or get cobwebs in her hair, and to her it would be a disaster. He rounded another landing, and could see colored light streaming through stained windows. He climbed the last few steps, tired. “Barbara, what-“
She flew at him, and he had just enough time to see the glint of the knife. He deflected her flailing arms, grunting with the effort. They fell to the floor together, and Jim rolled with her, trying to wrestle the knife from her hand.
He heard the sound of shattering glass before he could realize what it was, and his arm jerked forward, straining in its socket.
“Jim!” She screamed, grasping at his hand. She was dangling out of the broken window, her shoulders and arms gashed by the broken glass. “Jim! Jim, I’m slipping!”
He gripped her hand, but his was slick with sweat, and he felt her slipping. “Barbara, it’ll be alright, I got you,” He said, but his voice shook. And she could always tell when he was lying.
Barbara’s face was unnaturally calm, and she smiled softly up at him. “I know.” Jim was barely holding onto her hand now. “I love you, baby.”
And she was falling into the bushes below.
Jim sat up in bed, breathing heavily. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, feeling the carpet under his bare feet.
“Jim?” Barbara’s voice was soft and full of sleep. “What’s wrong?” She laced her arms around his shoulders.
“Nightmare.”
“Come on, go back to sleep.” She pulled him gently backwards, resting her head on his chest. “Do you feel better?”
“Yeah,” He mumbled, putting an arm around her. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.” He could almost hear her smile as he fell back asleep.
“Jim!” His eyes flew open.
“What?”
Leslie frowned. “You were talking in your sleep again.”
Jim felt blood rush to his face. “What did I say?”
“I don’t know. You seemed worried, distressed. You woke me up, thrashing all over the place. It was another nightmare wasn’t it?”
Jim paused, not looking at her. “Yeah.”
Leslie brushed his hair out of his eyes. Even in the darkness, he could see the worry etched in her face.
“I’m okay, Lee. I promise.”
Leslie wrapped her arms around him wordlessly, trying to comfort him and assuage her own doubts at the same time. She felt his breathing slow as he fell back into sleep, and she felt a tear slide down her cheek as she considered the fact that this was the third night this week that he’d been screaming Barbara’s name in his sleep. She moved to the other side of the bed so that her silent sobs wouldn’t wake him. He got such little sleep these days.
She cried herself to sleep, wondering if the man sharing her bed was still her Jim, or just a ghost of what he used to be.