(This will be a five chapter story, unless people want me to continue...enjoy. It will parallel inception in may ways: first off, you probably won't understand it the first time (I recommend reading again once you finish), secondly, the first passage will make a lot more sense at the end, and I use A TON of dialogue from the movie directly in the script. Real romance comes third and fourth chapter, so be patient. Enjoy!

Also: as a bonus I will include step by step instructions on how to reach limbo for real in the sixth chapter. Now, limbo doesn't actually physically exist the way it is portrayed in the movie; you can't share dreams with others, and you can't be stuck in limbo for years. Typical dream time is three to four hours, even though you are actually physically dreaming for about 20 mins when you sleep. All will be explained later. Basically, you can dream a dream where you are in control and are basically god for a few hours, and create your environment. Enjoy the story, and look forward to the bonus!

Interesting Fact of the chapter: Some people believe that if you ponder a question before bed, your subconscious will answer it by morning.)

The first thought in Ariadne's mind was, "Where's the knight?"

Now, she didn't mean her Knight in Shining Armor, but her totem, which was no longer a bishop but a knight. A silver knight, too. She found it a better totem than her previous golden chess piece.

Her surroundings seemed very strange; she was in a place she'd never been before, a bar, and she found herself longing for her totem, but was distracted. She felt disoriented, almost drunk; the way she'd felt before extraction, whenever she dreamed naturally.

"Knight," she kept thinking, "Knight!" but it would not come to her. A flitting thought went briefly through her head; that this must be real, because in a dream the totem always came, and she must have left the totem at home-but the idea passed. There wasn't any logic in a dream. Not in a natural dream.

There was only emotion.

She turned to the man next to her, who was telling her a story. She barely paid him heed, and in her mind there was an absence; an absence of something, a memory perhaps, something she once knew but had chosen to forget.

Suddenly the still void was broken and filled, when the bartender came up and asked if she'd like a drink. At the sound of his voice, the emptiness that was once within her heart disappeared.

His face was familiar, but she couldn't put a finger on who it was. Black, emotionless eyes peered at her, eyes that were intriguing on every level. He wore a silver vest that was quite fashionable, and his black hair was gelled to perfection, every hair in its place.

He stared at her strangely and said,

"You're quite something. Cobb said nobody has ever picked it up as fast as you have. Do you want me to fix you a drink?"

Her head was spinning. She could have sworn she'd seen this man before, but the name escaped her... She tried to ask him if they'd met, but something held her back and she could not speak.

"He was right, you know," the dark haired figure continued. "It's incredible. You're like the Ariadne of myth; the mortal who lead heroes out of the impossible maze, the labyrinth, with a piece of twine."

She barely comprehended his words and murmured, "Arnold...Archie..."

He smiled slyly and leaned over the counter, putting her chin in his hand.

"I like incredible women, Ariadne."

The words sounded wrong. They...they weren't his. They were something she wanted him to say, something she'd hoped he'd say but he hadn't.

His touch was cool and his hand was surprisingly soft. Suddenly the proverbial lightbulb lit up over her head.

Memories flooded her.

Yes...they'd been in the workshop...Cobb was out retrieving Eames and Yusuf, and ...he...the bartender...he'd just shown her paradoxical architecture. She'd been drawing up plans for the second level, his level, when she'd fallen asleep...and then, the cool touch.

She'd remembered waking up and looking up into the dark, soft eyes, and noticing for the first time, how enticing they were. How their mystery and their utter lack, or perhaps, their perfected masking of emotion intrigued her.

"Ar...Ar...," she murmured quietly.

"Sorry. I didn't want to wake you, but I'm going, and you probably shouldn't stay here by yourself," he had said. "Do you need a cab?"

She shook her head, the touch had left, and her heart had sunk.

He'd walked away, vest in place and hair neatly combed. After that, she'd taken pains to carefully observe him, and his character. When they were working together. When they were dreaming together.

Now those same eyes pierced her soul, and she looked away. But the floor of the bar was far less appealing than his face and touch. She felt a need...for him.

Never had she wanted him before, but for some unspoken reason, she wanted him now. He'd only been a coworker, an intruiging one at that...and she'd focused her attention on Cobb. But upon seeing the complexities of Cobb, she realized that he was as troubled as herself. That his memories of a wife, half of his whole, plagued him just as her own memories plagued her. It had been easy to understand Cobb's situation and help him deal with it from a viewer's standpoint.

Dom was just an attraction, one that had faded and died when she truly understood him, before they even did the job.

But this man...these eyes that - not understood, but analyzed (for lack of a better word) her...these eyes that were so intriguing...they were something else.

And after their time in the workshop; after what he had said, and done, and felt with her; there was no other who could fill the void in her heart.

"Arthur," she murmured.

Suddenly she looked up, and all consciousness was hers. She needed Arthur, now. Her survival depended on it.

"Arthur?" she questioned, looking around. He was gone.

"Arthur?" she cried, looking up. Where did he go? He wasn't behind the counter...or sitting next to her, or anywhere.

The huge void returned.

This was all wrong; ever since the incident, she'd always been able to cap her emotions, to hide her love from anyone she encountered. That had earned her reliability; even with Cobb, she'd served as a guide to the maze of his memories, despite how she had once felt about him.

But now emotion dominated over everything; all sense of Vulcan entirety had flown out the window.

She completely lost it, and fell to the floor, kicking and screaming. She needed something badly and she couldn't find it. It wasn't there.

"Arthur!"

"Arrrrtthhhhhuuuurrrrrrrr!"

...

Arthur woke up to the sound of a particular annoying British accent.

"Well, is everyone alright?"

He moved stiffly, took a brief look around, and removed the dreaming device from his wrist. Yusuf yawned, then hurried to the bathroom. That free champagne had taken its toll. He remembered to stop and drug Fischer a bit, so that they'd have time to remove the sleeping apparatus from him before he woke up.

"Looks like they're all okay," said the flight attendant, who had suddenly appeared at Arthur's side. She winked at him slyly; ten hours of staring at him had gotten the best of her.

He responded the way he did with almost all women; he ignored her. He couldn't afford to notice them after...what had happened.

Saito had awakened, but he had a startled look in his eyes and was breathing heavily. Cobb was in front, out of his view. He turned to look at Ariadne, and raised an eyebrow. Her face seemed at total peace, for a moment. She had such a dolly, young face; Arthur recalled thinking at first that she didn't look older than sixteen. But as he'd gotten to know her...well, things had changed. Ariadne was a brilliant young woman, and he suspected she knew more about Cobb's troubles than she let on. They couldn't have done the job without her.

Suddenly Ariadne's face contorted, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. She looked as if she was in great pain.

Arthur bolted from his seat and looked at her with concern.

"What's, eating you, Arthur?" muttered Eames lazily, removing the device from his wrist."Got your knickers in a twist over somebody?"

Eames was in an exceptionally good mood. He couldn't believe they'd just gotten out of that job alive and with brains completely intact. So now it was time to mock Arthur (an activity which was almost as much fun as knocking Arthur out of chairs in his sleep) who was currently giving him a very dirty look.

He turned back to Ariadne."You all right?" he murmured, putting a hand on her shoulder. He realized when she didn't respond that she was still asleep.

Eames had gotten out of his seat and clapped a hand on Arthur's shoulder. He hadn't noticed that Ariadne was sleeping.

"Speaking of which, I'm surprised you two lovebirds didn't just book a room there in the hotel," he chuckled. Eames knew Ariadne would laugh (or maybe blush-he suspected that the two had a thing going on. Why the gorgeous young architect would pick the less than interesting Arthur, he had no idea); she had some sense of humor, unlike this stick in the mud.

Arthur, who had no idea Eames was joking and hadn't actually seen...that, turned at him furiously.

"You saw that?-!" he shouted, startling the flight attendant. He'd looked around to make sure no one was there! How had Eames noticed his and Ariadne's...exchange?

That had been a sensitive moment for Arthur. He'd needed a distraction, but...his whole consciousness had told him to hold back. Not after what happened. He could never love again and let a woman twist his heart in two, destroying all practicality. 'It's only a dream,' had been his justification, and 'it's strictly business, nothing else,' but deep down, as much as he hated to admit it...

He'd enjoyed it.

The Brit was about to reply, "See what?" when she began to groan.

Ariadne tossed and turned in her seat, mumbling gibberish. Arthur put a hand to her chin and tried to shake her. That always woke her up; but now the sedation must have been too strong.

"Hey, you're okay...you're okay... wake up...Ariadne? Ariadne!" he pleaded, getting more and more concerned by the minute.

She kept tossing violently, mumbling to herself. Suddenly a cold hand of fear gripped Arthur's heart.

The sleeping apparatus had fallen from her wrist and was lying on the floor.

"Oh, hell," muttered Eames, who had seen it too. His good mood instantly vaporized.

Arthur picked up the limp wire and stared at it in disbelief. This wasn't happening...

Suddenly anger pulsed through him and he turned to the flight attendant in rage.

"How could you let this fall off her wrist?-! How could you screw this up, it was the simplest job in the the world..."

The flight attendant looked panicked. "I didn't know...There...There was turbulence, I didn't-" she stuttered, but Arthur wouldn't hear of it.

"You're the lookout!"

"How was I supposed-"

"No payment for you! Zero!"

"Enough. What's she saying?" interrupted Eames.

Arthur looked at him begrudgingly and said,

"I don't know...Ar, something. Why does it matter now? She's probably gone. You know what happens if the device is removed prematurely-"

" Arthur, don't you have any imagination?" said Eames.

"What does imagination have anything to do with it? She's dying-"

"Have some hope for once, won't you? She's still alive, she might make it out! She was on the first level with us, so there's a good chance that she survived. Now what is she saying?"

They listened closely to her mutterings, Arthur sour. He tried not to hope. Ever since...then, he never hoped again. Every time he had a hope, it failed. It was best to be practical about things, and reserved in emotion. A haunting memory returned, but he shut it out.

Eames took a few guesses at interpretation.

"Ar...Argentina? Ar... Armadillo? Arkansas? Is it her own name, Ariadne?-! What is she trying to-"

He was interrupted by a long wail of,

"Aaaaaarrrrrttthhhhhuuuurrrrr!"

This startled both men, but especially Arthur. She was alive, thank God, but was she still sane? And why was she calling his name?

She began to scream, causing Fischer to stir. Eames quickly rushed to put a bag on his head.

"Arthur! Arthur! Arrrrtthhhhh-"

He shook her shoulders violently.

"Ariadne, stop it, wake up! Wake up, come on, wake-"

Suddenly her eyes popped open, and she looked extremely frightened.

"Goodness, what was that all about?" muttered Eames, who had returned.

Shaking, she but both hands around Arthur's wrist, which was still on her shoulder. Her grip was like iron, and she asked, "Arthur?"

He nodded.

"I'm here. What's going on, what happened?"

She just shook and repeated his name, as if assuring herself that he was really there.

Suddenly everything came back to her and she realized where she was. The Boeing 747; she had just survived the job. Cobb. Where was he?

She was about to panic when she saw Saito look over Eames' shoulder. A sigh of relief ran through her; Cobb must have rescued him. They were okay. Arthur repeated his request; "What happened?"

She took a small breath.

"I thought that you can't dream naturally anymore after going under a lot," she said softly. Arthur squinted, being naturally suspicious.

"That happens to most people, but not all."

She simply nodded.

"Oh."

He wanted to know more, but she wasn't telling. She couldn't just say she had been longing for his presence and that's why she'd kicked and screamed.

Arthur finally leaned back, releasing her tiny frame and murmuring,

"I still dream."

His eyes asked for more, but she was hesitant.

"Arthur...can your dreams- natural dreams- tell you something? About yourself?"she asked, appearing distracted.

He narrowed his eyes and appeared confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Can they provide you the answers...to questions you have? Emotionally, I mean."

Arthur shrugged impatiently. She wasn't acting like herself; normally she was composed and thought logically- like him.

"I don't know. Never happened to me. Some people say you can ponder a question before bed and your subconscious will answer it by morning, but it's a debatable theory. Now are you going to tell me what happened?"

His voice seemed a bit...not threatening, but it demanded an answer.

Ariadne shrunk back in her seat, not liking being under scrutiny by his eyes. Arthur's eyes were always relaxed when they looked over her, full of interest and sometimes admiration. She hated the scrutiny in them, the questioning, the suspicion, which was the look he gave everyone else, save Cobb. If he could look affectionate, he did so when she was there. On off moments too; when she was describing a layout, or just staring into space.

But the look now was unbearable. He stared at her for a few more seconds, asking for an answer, but she huddled, clutching her knees, and would not respond. She couldn't tell him her subconscious had begged for his presence and screamed when it hadn't gotten its wish.

He finally backed away, but the look remained. In truth, he was just concerned. He was very afraid that, as Eames would say, her brain might have "been turned to scrambled egg."

Ariadne was refreshing, focused, intelligent, but sensitive. He would miss her companionship.

As he walked back to his seat, dissatisfied, she noted his vest and the hair. Now she understood.

The first time he'd walked away, after waking her up, in a silver colored coat, out of the workshop, she'd thought, 'He's as mysterious and chivalrous as a knight.'

A knight...a knight in-

"Cobb?"

It was Eames' voice.

"Cobb!"

They all turned to face Cobb's seat.

He wasn't stirring.

"Oh, God," muttered Arthur.

Yusuf hurried over.

"He's not waking?"

There was a hushed silence over the whole group.

"Maybe we can go back under-" began Yusuf, but Arthur shook his head. He had a solemn, almost sad look in his eyes.

"It's over. He's gone. There's nothing we can do."

"That's what you said about Ariadne a second ago," mumbled Eames, but there was no animation in his voice. This time he agreed with Arthur. Araidne had made it back with them up to the first level of the dream, but Cobb...Cobb was back in limbo.

Ariadne was still flustered from her dream and confused.

"But...he went to rescue Saito. And you're here..." she mumbled. "Saito...where's Cobb?"

Saito looked shaken and simply said, "I don't know. I woke on the shore of a strange country, engulfed by water. When I looked up, there was a skyscraper that seemed to be entirely made of sand."

She nodded, and Eames said, "Pray continue."

Saito shrugged, as if trying to shake off a memory.

"The top of the building collapsed, and came hurtling down towards me. And then, I was here. On the plane."

Arthur narrowed his eyes.

"You mean, you died?"

Saito gave him a strange look.

"Frankly, I did."

Arthur was astounded. "You mean to tell me that if you are killed in Limbo, you wake up, even under sedation? It's that easy?"

"Well..." muttered Ariadne, embarrassed, "That's how Cobb escaped with Mal the first time...they used a train. That's why...on the first level...there was...and that's why he won't build-" she stumbled till her words trailed off, and she cringed under Arthur's gaze. They were emotionless, as usual, but she imagined a disappointment in them. Arthur was her teacher, her mentor, and she had always been keeping secrets from him. Secrets of her past, secrets of her present, and secrets of Cobb. Secrets that she was dying to share with him, but never had. It was too late now.

There was a heavy, grave silence. 'It's over,' was the common thought. But Ariadne remembered the light, and the desperation, in Cobb's eyes when he had said he would return home to his children. If they just stood by...His children would never get to know their father. They would never see him again. And worse, they would grow up thinking he had killed their mother, and that he had never cared about them.

"We have to go under," she said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Arthur shook his head, ever practical. "By now, he's probably been down there centuries, it's too late-"

"Exactly, that means every second we wait may be another month for Cobb."

"We haven't prepared, there aren't any levels constructed-"

"But we have to try!"

"And risk losing ourselves, too?"

By this point, she was furious.

"How can you be so selfish?-! You've worked with Cobb for years, he's the closest thing you've ever had to friend, and you're just going to let him go without a fight?"

"Ariadne-"

"I thought I knew you better-"

Arthur was on the verge of losing all of his composure which he worked so hard to contain, and finally said, "It's not me I'm worried about losing!"

There was a silence as she comprehended his meaning.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, regretting his words, which were very out of character for him to say.

"You have to keep it under control," he thought to himself, but felt an internal struggle that had been brewing for months unleash.

Ariadne saw bitterness and defeat in those eyes, and she was sad; but she would not know defeat as he did. Arthur gave up too easily; not only Cobb had a dark past. She suspected there was something in Arthur's heart that he'd buried away, a truth he'd once known but chosen to forget. And unlike Cobb, he wasn't willing to share.

Ariadne would pursue, as she always had.

"Yusuf!" she shouted. He turned to her, startled.

"Give me the compound," she said.

"Wha-I can't-" he stumbled, and Arthur stepped in front of her assertively, grabbing her wrist.

"The sleeping device was removed from you prematurely. You might not be thinking straight...we need to get you to a doctor-"

"Half my share, Yusuf!" shouted Ariadne, who broke free of Arthur's grip using a wrenching technique he himself had taught her. She rushed to the back of the first class cabin, and Yusuf passed her the bottle and the syringe. A look of understanding passed between them, and Yusuf picked up Arthur's wire of the dream share device. He also checked to see if Cobb's was intact.

Ariadne was the most sensible of them all, in Yusuf's opinion. She couldn't be bribed, unlike himself, she was willing to take risks, unlike Arthur, but she didn't go beyond reason, unlike Eames, and she didn't let emotion get in the way, unlike Cobb.

She attached the dream share apparatus to her wrist and injected herself with the compound.

"Ariadne, you can't-" Arthur protested, but she ignored him.

"Press the button, Yusuf!"

He rushed over to the machine.

"God damn it, Ariadne! I can't let you go down there alone!" shouted Arthur.

Her nostrils flared and she shouted,

"I don't need babysitting!"

It was one of the things he admired about her. She was independent and didn't like to be sheltered. At least...he thought she didn't like to he sheltered.

In truth, Ariadne knew she couldn't be. Because eventually she would destroy her shelter and tear it to shreds.

He reached for his wire of the sleeping apparatus and to his surprise, Yusuf was already attaching it. Arthur looked at Ariadne in shock as she stabbed him with the syringe.

"You're right. I can't go alone or I'll be lost," she said, silently thinking ,"and if I have to go there with anyone, I want it to be you."

This was a different kind of shelter, one she didn't mind. She needed Arthur there or she could lose her grip on what was real and what was a dream. He of all people would know.

Arthur gave one more attempt to protest, and she couldn't fail but notice the shock in his eyes.

She'd tricked him.

Normally pulling such a stunt would have made her proud, but on Arthur...she felt a bit treacherous.

"It's dangerous," he tried to no avail. "This isn't a good ide-" he trailed, then slumped to the floor as Yusuf pressed the button, smiling at Ariadne.

She had just enough time to smile back before she, too, went under.

...

(Trust me, it gets better people…that opening was pretty bad. Don't worry: I already wrote the entire story, so I will update periodically- Either every two days or every three days. Alerts greatly appreciated, faves too, but most importantly; reviews! I don't care if it's a flame, because flames provide constructive criticism and that helps me improve. So if you have to flame, flame. That's okay. Though CC is nicer. :D)

A Truth They Once Knew, but Chose to Forget

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