A Grip On Reality
Ch. 1: Hysteria
Disclaimer: I don't own Inception or the characters. I only own the idea for this story.
AN: Slight Cobb/Ariadne. More than slight Arthur/Ariadne. Hope you like. Reviews are candy for my soul...
Her stomach lurched. She leaned over to put her head between her legs. She was going to be sick, she knew it.
"Excuse me, miss." The voice was familiar, with the tone of a stranger. His hand was low on her back. "Are you alright?"
Ariadne wouldn't look up. She couldn't face reality. "Fine. I'm fine."
"You're sure?" Arthur asked, then, voice pitched low enough that he wouldn't be overheard, "Weak stomach, I'm guessing. You'll be fine, it's just the anesthetic wearing off."
She nodded. Arthur placed another hand on her shoulder and gently nudged her back into an upright position before calmly returning to his seat.
The plane gave another lurch. She rolled her head slowly to face the aisle. All around her, the other passengers were slowly adjusting to reality.
One was still.
She felt her heart plummet into her stomach. She watched Cobb, or what little she could see of him, for any sign of life.
Behind her, Saito gave a little gasp. Ariadne jumped, head whipping around. She couldn't see him, but she could hear him moving around, straightening the collar on his jacket that was probably worth more than her life. She looked back towards Cobb, only to find him already awake. Her heart stuttered, then slowed to a reasonable pace. "God," She whispered, leaning back in her seat. "Oh, thank God."
Ariadne found it remarkable how quickly the others took to their roles as passing strangers. It seemed she was the only one who found it hard to restrain her comments. As she grabbed her suitcase from baggage claim and wrestled it backwards, she was bumped from behind. "Watch it!" She cried, shooting a glare towards the man who'd bumped her.
Eames leered back at her. She felt violated, though she knew it was an act. He tipped an imaginary hat to her and slipped away into the crowd.
Standing alone in the crowded airport Ariadne realized she had nowhere to go. She drifted along with the crowd in a haze, not stopping until she was outside.
"Need a ride?"
She turned with a smile that faded a little too slowly. "Do I—?"
"I think we're safe." Arthur stated, offering his arm. She accepted it gratefully. "Do you have a place to stay?"
"Uhm…" In truth, she'd been so caught up in the Fischer case that she hadn't thought of where she would go after.
"I figured as much. Don't worry, I took care of it," He smiled winningly and guided Ariadne towards a waiting car. "I assume Eames slipped you the celebratory drink invitation?"
She remembered the way he'd nearly bowled over her. Ariadne slipped her hand into her pocket and retrieved a tiny, folded piece of paper. Drinks on me. 8 pm. She assumed the illegible scrawl at the bottom was an address.
"On him?" Arthur glared over her shoulder. "What he means is, drinks on my tab, courtesy of him." With that, he leaned forward to give his driver instructions.
Ariadne took to staring out the window. She had never been much of a fidgeter, but now she was restless, filled with uncontainable energy. She tapped her foot, jiggled her leg, tugged at her hair. It wasn't exactly attractive, but she'd been through so much in the past few hours—had it only been hours? Time held no meaning anymore—she couldn't stop and think about something so trivial as appearances. A pale hand reached over to rest on her leg, stilling it with a calm touch.
"It's over." Arthur said quietly. She nodded. "So what's wrong?" He asked, moving his hand from her leg to her cheek to turn her face to his.
She blinked, a single tear sliding down her face as the hysteria began to set in. "It feels like a nightmare. I can't escape it. I don't know if I'm asleep or awake… And… and…" She gripped the totem in her pocket. Inescapable reality… "And I don't think it's over yet," Ariadne yanked away from Arthur's hand, pressed her cheek against the window.
A buzzing in her pocket distracted her from the self-assured, condescending comments Arthur was sure to make. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and stared at the caller ID.
Incoming call: D. Cobb
She flipped the phone open and snapped, "Hello?"
"Ariadne." Cobb always managed to sound calm and in control, even when his voice was as urgent as this.
"Yes?" She whispered. This couldn't be good.
"Ariadne, I need you to listen to me, okay? I need you to do one more thing for me. Are you alone? Is there anyone else around?" Ariadne flushed red. He was speaking as if she were a child.
She felt like a child. Oddly comforted, she answered, "No. Arthur… I'm with Arthur." She glanced at Arthur, who was studiously ignoring her, jaw set.
His sigh crackled like static in her ear. "You'll be there tonight?"
"Wh—?"
"Drinks, Ariadne. Focus." Cobb was getting impatient. "I'll see you tonight. You…" He groaned, "you just stay with Arthur. Do you understand? Do not go anywhere alone."
"Okay." She was starting to pull herself together. She felt less frayed at the edges, her feet more firmly planted in reality. As the hysteria started to slip away, irritation set in.
"I need you, Ariadne. Please…" Was he begging? "I'll see you tonight." He ended the call with a click. Ariadne slid her phone back into her pocket. She felt Arthur's curious stare as he watched her.
"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?" He finally asked.
"I don't see how it's any of your business." She snapped. Then, with a sigh, "I don't know what it was about."
Arthur nearly smiled. "Cobb has that effect on people."
