Note: Sequel to Inception with revenge theme lifted from Kill Bill. Inception and its ideas and characters belong to Christopher Nolan. Kill Bill and its ideas and characters belong to Quentin Tarantino and his various sources of inspiration. Tom Hansen belongs to (500) Days of Summer and Marc Webb and is only alluded to...for now.
Summary: Four years ago, Dominic Cobb pulled one last job in order to see his children. He had only moments with them before the FBI swarmed the house and took him to prison. Now, he's broken out of prison and out for revenge, desperate to the solve the mystery of his betrayal.
1. Ariadne.
He drives up to a cozy brick house sandwiched between mailboxes that identify themselves as belonging to the Bells and the Browns, and notices a plastic playset sitting in the grass. The set is in theprocess of being built; all of its pieces are custom-made, a bright assortment of impossible angles and slides and nylon ropes. An involuntary smile curls his mouth. Of course, after all that she's been through, she would bring the same sense of whimsy and strangeness to everything else in her life. He sees the frames on the windows of the house have been taken out and hammered back in so they lean slightly to the left. The entire place is red and green and cheerful.
Neither of the owners have cars. Her blue bicycle leans against the iron railing that circles the porch. She's home.
He climbs out of the rental car, shuts the door and pulls down the sleeves of his leather jacket, ignoring how his hands shake. The cement path leading to the door is short, maybe three steps long. He steps onto the porch, glances around at the odd playset, and rings the bell.
She answers on the second ring, opening the door in a huff, her eyes big and angry. "You said you'd be here - " She pauses, recognizing him.
He takes a second to look her over. Her hair's been cut short, hanging around her face in a curly bob. Bangs fall across her eyes, which are seemingly darker and surrounded by a few acute wrinkles. She's a little heavier in her chest and belly. For a moment, he's terrified that she's pregnant.
"Mr. Cobb?" she says.
The plan was to shove her back into the house and render her unconscious so he can hook her up to the PASIV. He's got the needle in his pocket. Instead, he offers her a sheepish grin. "Ariadne, how are you?"
She lunges forward and hugs him, crushing him against her little body. When they part, there's tears welling up in her eyes. "When did you get out?"
Cobb stiffens. "Only Tuesday."
She laughs. "That's great, Dom. That's really great." She gestures for him to step inside. "Come on, let me show you how boring my life has become." She smiles as she disappears ahead of him into the house, tiptoeing around stuffed animals and half-finished puzzles.
He follows her, shutting the door behind him.
The place is a happy mess. Daisy chains of paper dolls and animals wind from ceiling to ceiling. Three kinds of art cover the walls; black and white professional prints of world architecture, hand drawn sketches of fantastic building staggering around each other, and sloppy crayola drawings depicting life in Ariadne's new home. Each crayola drawing is signed by a young artist named Diana. He leans in to take a closer look at the pencil sketches and sees that they're signed by Tom.
"Are these the work of your husband?" he asks.
Ariadne meets him and hands him a glass of warm tea. "Yes, he and Diana have a competition going to see who can cover the most walls. She's winning."
"How old is she?"
Ariadne blushes. "She's four."
He nearly spits out his tea. "Forgive me for saying so, but that didn't take long."
"Why don't we sit down in the kitchen? Neither of us are very good cooks, but I think we have some leftover Chinese in the fridge."
"Sure."
They sit opposite each other at a wooden table covered by a linen tablecloth painted with tulips and winding rows of wildflowers. He watches her eat noodles in silence, waiting for her to ask.
She does. "Dom, have you seen them yet?" She looks at him, legitimately worried.
He shakes his head. "Not yet. Miles doesn't know I'm out. No one does."
"No offense," Ariadne says, laughing, "but why did you visit me, then? Your children have been waiting an awfully long time. And what about Arthur?"
He stands. "Truthfully, I don't think Arthur's concerned," he replies, trying to sound as bland as possible.
"Look, I don't know what happened after the inception, but I make it a policy to butt into your business, Mr. Cobb," Ariadne says. "Stop wasting time. Go see your kids. I don't know what I would do if I couldn't see Diana, or Tom."
"Where'd you two meet?" He looks away from her, staring at a family portrait hanging above the stove. Diana is Ariadne's smaller twin, dark wavy hair and big eyes. Tom strikes him, bearing a strongresemblance to Arthur. Rage consumes him, filling up his body with crackling heat. He glances back at Ariadne, who's staring at him, wearing the same fearful look she had on when she first met Mal's shade. "Ariadne?"
"I left Paris after what we did to Fischer, stayed in Los Angeles for a while. We met there."
"And you ended up in New York."
She shrugs. "There were more jobs here. Not that I needed the money. Mr. Saito was very generous."
"I'm sure he was."
"Dom, why are you here?"
They stare at each other, years between them, leaving things unsaid. He can tell she's frightened now. She was younger than any of them, that much faster at catching up to secrets and tricks they wouldn't have noticed. He loves her, in his own way. She was the one who helped him accept his own part in Mal's death. He never dreamed of his wife anymore. Mal never appeared, with or without the PASIV, eyes flashing with fury, accusing him of betrayal and murder. She was gone forever and it was better that way. He knew she would tell him to leave this house and forget what had happened four years ago. If any of them deserved forgiveness, it was Ariadne.
"Dom?"
But there it was. He took the family portrait off the wall, rubbing his thumb over Diana's winking face. They all went through hell and made it out, except for him. Everyone got what they wanted, except for him. Even Ariadne, who wanted Arthur and got Tom, who wanted him to have his family back but instead earned her own. He suddenly hates it here. He throws the picture on the ground and Ariadne steps back, inching away from the broken glass.
"Dom," she says, again, "when you get out?"
Dom pulls the needle out of his pocket and waves it at her. "You tell me," he replies.
When it's done, there's some blood on the carpet because Ariadne broke a nail trying to claw her way back inside, screaming at him to let her go.
There's no fight in her now. She sleeps quietly in the back of the car, put under by a sedative strong enough to take down ten much larger men. Her eyes rush back and forth under her lids as she sleeps, and he knows she's dreaming.
He thinks she's dreaming of a way out.
He waits until he's a few miles outside of the city before he calls Fischer. Robert answers on the first ring. "Good morning, Mr. Charles," he says. Cobb knows that he's sneering. "Were you successful?"
"Good morning, Mr. Fischer," Cobb says. "Yes, I was. Now tell me where he is."
"Will you bring her in?"
"She's in the car right now."
"Good." There's a pause on the other end. Fischer calling his men to have the room ready. "He's in Paris again - "
Cobb hangs up and curses. He pulls over to the side of the road, ignoring the angry honks of the tourists and skinny locals. He checks Ariadne in the rearview mirror, watching her sleep. He reaches for the bag sitting on the passenger seat to his right and slips out a yellow notepad with five names written on it in red ink. He grabs a black marker from the glove compartment and crosses out Ariadne's name.
He circles the next one on the list.
"I'm coming for you, Arthur," he says, "in Paris."
He puts everything back in its place and drives back onto the road.