Somewhat ironically, this was something I dreamed and just had to write down.
I own nothing. The song is "Dream a little dream of me", lyrics by Gus Kahn.
.-.-.-.-.-.
Mal smiled, beautiful and terrible as light on the edge of a razor, and Ariadne wished nothing more than for this to be a dream.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.
She tumbled through the door of her apartment, throwing her bag on the floor. She closed the door and leaned on it heavily, running a shaky hand through her hair. She breathed in and out slowly, deliberately, trying to regain even some kind of a control over herself. Get a grip, you idiot! She admonished herself, and then shook her head. And now you're talking to yourself…
She straightened herself and walked through the apartment and into her bedroom. She opened the drawer that was standing by the bed, and pulled out a small wooden box. She paused for a second, feeling strangely afraid, before opening it and closing her trembling fingers around the object inside.
At that moment her shoulders dropped, and all tension left her body. A sound that was somewhere between a laughter and a sob left her lips, and suddenly feeling utterly exhausted she sat on the bed.
"Jesus…"
She never thought that she would become like him, and definitely not so soon. All she had done was that one job, that one trip to dreamland, and now she didn't know which way was up and which down. Every goddamn morning, the first thing she did when waking up was opening that box. Every night, she would lay awake on her bed and wonder whether she would dream or not. Whether she could.
And all that had happened today, all that was needed to cause almost a full-blown panic attack, was that she'd fallen asleep during her class. She'd fallen asleep, and when she woke up, she didn't know was is the reality or another dream level.
As if she knew anything about anything anymore.
For more than once she'd seen something strange and had known, with utter certainty, that it just couldn't be real; only to realize that she was wide awake. She had lived her normal, real life and then woken up. It seemed like the only thing that was keeping her on track of what was real was the small piece of metal inside her fist.
Slowly she opened the fist her fingers had curled into, and stared at the golden pawn on her palm.
"Looks like you're awake, Ariadne", she whispered to herself.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Mal was sitting by the window, illuminated by the last rays of the sun. She looked unreal, ethereal, almost like an angel or a saint. She was too beautiful, burning too bright, and next to her Ariadne felt like a clumsy child.
And then Mal turned, and Ariadne took an involuntary step away from her. Mal's eyes were cold, cruel. There was a smile on her lips, but it did little to assure Ariadne. Something in that smile scared her more than anything else in this situation.
"He's not here, you know."
Mal's words were soft, melodic, and the French accent was unmistakable from Cobb's dreams. Ariadne swallowed, and managed to whisper:
"Who?"
"Dom. He's the one you're looking for, isn't he?" The voice was still gentle, and the eyes were still terrifying.
"I don't – I don't know what you're talking ab-"
"Do not lie to me!" All of a sudden Mal was standing, spitting out the words with such venom that Ariadne stumbled backwards, eyes searching for a door that was nowhere to be found. But Mal didn't move any closer, stating in a voice that was suddenly as calm as it had been furious before: "Do not dare to lie, little girl."
"I'm not lying!" Ariadne tried to explain, remembering with fear how violent Mal had been in Cobb's dream. But it wasn't really her, was it? Just his projection of her. She could hear Arthur's voice, telling her that the real Mal had been lovely.
"Yes you are. I saw you with him. I saw how you followed him around. I know how you feel about him", Mal said, turning her face back towards the window. "But you can never have him. He's always going to be mine."
Ariadne didn't dare to move, barely even breath. She knew this had to be a dream – Mal is dead – she knew Mal couldn't really hurt her, that you couldn't die in dreams. But the pain – the pain could be very real, as she had experienced. And the broken pieces of a champagne glass were sparkling in the light.
Mal turned back again, her face calm and serene. Her feet made no sound as she started to walk around, grazing the curtains as she moved. Even though Ariadne was terrified, she couldn't deny that Mal was still beautiful. Sensual, alluring. Lovely. Something about Mal made Ariadne think that she would stand out even in a room full of people. That once you'd met her, you could never forget her. And Cobb had loved her. How could he let her go, when she was like the sun and the moon and the stars, all at once?
"You will never understand it, how could you? Because you don't know what it is alike", Mal said, as if sensing what Ariadne was thinking. "To be a lover. Half of a whole", she breathed, echoing her words from the memory of a hotel room.
Ariadne wanted to answer, wanted to tell her that no, she didn't know and wasn't pretending otherwise, but words froze on her lips.
"We were perfect together. Dom loved me so much. From the moment he saw me, I was everything to him. He worshipped me, desired me more than anything. I could make him burn with just one word, one look." Mal's dark eyes turned back to Ariadne. "Could you make him beg for your touch, little girl?"
"No", Ariadne whispered. "I couldn't. He loves you, he still loves you."
"Of course he does", Mal answered, and started to walk towards Ariadne. "But you wish he loved you. He's all alone there, and you want him for yourself. You're trying to steal him from me!"
And then Mal attacked her. Ariadne tried to fight her, but she was taller and stronger, and fueled by rage. Ariadne fell and suddenly Mal's hands were around her throat, choking her. Ariadne tried to claw Mal's hands away, but she wouldn't let go.
"He promised me! He promised!"
Ariadne couldn't breathe, she couldn't – she couldn't –
- wake up.
Ariadne barely made it to the bathroom before she threw up.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.
During the following days, Ariadne tried to ignore the dream. After all, it was just a dream, just a figment of her imagination, right? People had crazy dreams all the time; it wasn't like it meant anything. She'd been in Cobb's dreams, in his subconscious, and of course the projection of a long deceased woman wasn't something you forgot easily. That was all it had been. A random, out of the blue nightmare. Nothing to worry about.
And if she did work herself so hard that she was too exhausted to have dreams, well, that was nobody's business anyway.
She didn't live in dreams anymore.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Ariadne wasn't really the partying type, and she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. She was hiding in the dark corner of the room, close enough to the bar to be able to go and snatch a drink every once in a while. She wasn't quite sure how many she'd had, but at least the slight buzz made hanging here more bearable.
All around her people were laughing, dancing, having fun. She felt completely out of her comfort zone, and couldn't help wondering how the hell she'd ended here.
"You seem a bit lonely there, darling", a voice drawled, startling her from her thoughts. She turned her head to look at the man standing in front of her table. It was hard not to notice the way he swayed on his feet, holding a beer bottle. Great, now I have to deal with drunks hitting on me.
"I'm fine, thanks", she said, quirking a small smile and then turning her gaze to another direction, hoping that the guy would get the message. No such luck, of course.
"You sure? Maybe we could figure something together –"
"Like I said: I'm fine. So if you don't mind leaving me alone..."
"Okay, okay. Suit yourself." The guy sauntered away, and Ariadne slumped in her chair. God, she needed another drink.
"Not your type?" Soft words whispered in her ear, and she almost spilled her glass. "Or just not Dom?" Her heels clicked as she walked to stand in front of Ariadne. Mal was wearing a long, burgundy evening dress that caressed her figure. She should have looked out of place amidst the partying crowd, but somehow she managed to make everyone else look underdressed.
"Mal..." Ariadne breathed the word, her heart drumming. She could still feel Mal's hands choking her. "What are you doing here?" This is a dream?
Mal slid to sit on a chair opposite her. She raised a glass of wine to her lips – a glass that hadn't been there before. The wine was the same color as her dress, the same color as her lips that formed an amused smile.
"You are lonely, yes?" Mal asked, raising one eyebrow and sipping from her glass again. "Perhaps you are waiting for someone who isn't here?"
"No." Ariadne didn't want the conversation to go this way, didn't want to talk about Cobb and his demons. So she said the first thing that came to her mind: "I mean – I'm waiting for Arthur."
"Arthur?" Mal echoed, and laughed, like glass shattering on ice. "Impeccable little Arthur?"
"Yes. He – he kissed me once."
"And what about Dom, hmm?" Mal leaned closer, and the flashing lights of the dance floor were mirrored in the darkness of her eyes. "Has he ever kissed you?"
"No!" From the look on Mal's face, the denial had left her lips too quickly. "I wouldn't – he'd never –"
"No?" The question was asked too softly, as Mal rose to her feet with all the gracefulness of a feline. Ariadne kept her eyes on the table, and listened as Mal's heels clicked, clicked and then – stopped. Ariadne gasped as suddenly the other woman's breath ghosted near her ear.
"No?" Mal repeated, her fingers brushing Ariadne's skin. "You wouldn't kiss him, or he wouldn't kiss you?"
"Both", Ariadne said, her voice trembling. Mal's fingers traced her collarbone.
"Lies, lies, lies", Mal spoke in a sing-song voice into her ear. "Why do you always lie to me?"
And with that, Mal grabbed her chin and broke her neck.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Later that week, some of her classmates invited her to a party nearby. Her first reaction was to say no, she wasn't really interested. But after a while she started to wonder that maybe she should go after all. Maybe some relaxing would do her good. Maybe – just maybe – she could stop thinking about Cobb and dreams and Mall. Terrible, lovely Mal, who wanted to haunt Ariadne just like she had haunted Cobb.
It doesn't work like that, the little voice of common sense tried to tell her. She isn't real. You've created her yourself, just like Cobb did. She'll haunt you as long as you'll let her.
But, if Ariadne had ever listened to that voice, she would have never taken Cobb's job offer in the first place.
So, on the day of the party, Ariadne finally went to her closet to find something to wear. There were some fancy dresses, so probably one of them –
There, in the farthermost corner, was an evening dress she'd never had the chance to wear. It was long, slinky, and burgundy like the wine. Mal smiled.
Ariadne spent the rest of the evening staring at the TV, not really seeing anything, and trying to ignore the feeling of spiderlike touches on her skin.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.
You're waiting for a train. A train that will take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you, but you don't know for sure. But it doesn't matter, because we'll be together.
Ariadne woke up as the train hit her.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"Hey, it's Arthur. Is this a bad time?"
She hadn't been expecting a call from any of them. After the job had been done, they had all dispersed to their own directions. Eames had dropped by to say hello when he was passing by, and (somewhat surprisingly) Sato had called to say that he was available if she ever needed anything. But besides that, it had been quiet.
"No, it's fine. I was just – surprised."
"Yeah. I've been meaning to call, to ask how you've been. I know the job was pretty hard."
"I think that's the understatement of the year", Ariadne stated, and Arthur gave a laugh. "But I'm okay."
"How are you sleeping?"
"Fine." Ariadne didn't want to elaborate, but Arthur remained silent, clearly expecting more. "Well, some nights are better, and some are – hard." She didn't continue, and luckily Arthur decided not to push.
"Have you heard from the others? I saw Eames some time ago, and he seemed to be doing okay…"
"When doesn't Eames land on his feet? Well, the last time I heard Sato was busy with his business and Yusuf was back in Mombasa."
Ariadne hesitated for a moment before asking:
"And Cobb?"
"He's home, spending time with his children. He has a lot of catching up to do."
"Of course." Ariadne couldn't think of anything else to say. Do you know whether he still sees Mal around, because she's been haunting me for weeks? That probably wouldn't go too well.
"Listen, the other reason why I'm calling is because I'm looking for an architect. It's a pretty simple job, nothing like the Fischer case. I know you continued your studies, and I thought that you might want to earn some extra."
"You want me to design a dream for you?"
"Yes. You were pretty great the first time."
For a moment Ariadne actually considered saying yes, because she really did need the money. But then she remembered Cobb, who hadn't been able to design the dreams because of Mal. And then she thought about Mal in her dreams, bringing death and fear. Lies, little girl...
"I'm sorry, but I can't. I've got tons of things to do, and I really – I really don't have the time." She was pretty sure she was rambling, but Arthur merely apologized for bothering her. The conversation ended soon after that. Ariadne stared at phone, and tried to ignore Mal's laughter.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Mal was dancing alone, softly singing a song Ariadne didn't recognize. The scene in front of her would have been lovely, if the room hadn't been littered with toppled furniture and broken glass. But Mal didn't seem to care, or even notice Ariadne was there.
"Say nighty-night and kiss me
Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me
While I'm alone and blue as can be
Dream a little dream of me…"
Mal picked up a broken glass, and attacked.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"How do you deal with projections? I mean, if there's a one that keeps – I don't know – haunting you, how do you make it stop?"
"Don't you think I'm the last person you should be asking that?" Cobb asked, but there's was amusement dancing in his eyes. Ariadne shifted, feeling embarrassed. She hadn't meant to blurt the question like that, but being here, in the house were Mal had lived, a place she'd seen in Cobb's dreams, was making it hard for her to concentrate. At least she wasn't seeing or hearing things.
In front of her, Cobb took a gulp of his drink. He looked like a different man. Relaxed, in peace with himself and the world. There were still shadows in his eyes; shadows she didn't think would ever go away, but he didn't seem haunted like before. This time I'm the one with ghosts, she thought bitterly. But she wasn't resentful towards Cobb, quite the contrary. After seeing all the torment he'd suffered, she was glad that he was better, she really was.
He'd seemed somewhat surprised to find her knocking on his door, but had let her in anyway. She didn't know was she relieved or disappointed that his children weren't home. Maybe it was for the best. The conversation was hard enough as it was. They'd had small-talk for a while, and all the time Ariadne had been looking for a way to steer the conversation gently into the right direction. Obviously she hadn't quite succeeded in the "gently"- part.
"Are you saying that there's someone who keeps coming into your dreams? Someone you don't want there?" Cobb asked, and Ariadne nodded. She wasn't going to tell him who the projection was. This was bad enough.
"Do you have any idea why? From previous experience" Cobb managed a weak smile "I'd say that's the key question."
"That's just it! I don't have a clue why she'd –"
The shrill of the phone interrupted her, just in time.
"I'm sorry, but I have to take this. Just –" Cobb waved his hand "– make yourself at home."
He closed the door behind him, and Mal appeared from the shadows.
"But this isn't your home, is it?" she asked. Ariadne struggled to her feet, heart hammering. She couldn't believe this was happening.
"No, no, no! You can't be here! This is – this is real, this isn't a dream and you're – you're not real –"
"I can't be here?" Mal said, anger coloring her voice. "You're the one who doesn't belong here! This is my home! He's mine!"
And Ariadne ran. She sprinted through the front door, past the yard, not stopping even when she heard Cobb shouting after her. She didn't stop when she came to the street, but kept running, just running, until her legs couldn't carry her any further. Finally she crumpled to the ground, completely out of breath, and frantically searched her bag for her totem. Please, please, please... And when at last she found the small pawn, she couldn't help the tears that started running down her face.
Next to her crumpled form, Mal leaned on the rail and softly sang:
"Stars fading but I linger on dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longin' to linger till dawn dear
Just saying this:
Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me
Yes, dream a little dream of me…"