Title: Dust Motes Rating: T because I'm paranoid Disclaimer: I do not own Inception, nor do I own any other references to the franchise…everything belongs to the fantastic director, Mr. Nolan Summary: A basic character study of how Ariadne would have dealt with the aftermath of the Inception

Dust motes shone golden in the light streaming in through the window. They seemed to float around, as if they were waves…

She tried to grab them, stretching out her arms, flexing her fingers. It was all very childish, the way she was behaving.

That's what he would have said-Arthur…always serious, never smiling. She remembered once when she had sworn that she was going to make him smile. He just rolled his eyes in an endearing manner and patted her on her head. Afterwards, she had stormed into her apartment, flinging her scarf into a corner. Who was he to tell her that she was behaving childish when he treated her like a child himself?

Then again, who was she kidding? Being the youngest in the group, and to top it off a female, they all felt the unnecessary need to watch out for her, as if she were unable to take her of herself. She tried to prove them wrong, by helping Cobb. Just as he was using her to get back to his children, she was using him to prove to somebody, to anybody who cared, that she could take care of herself…that she was grown up.

She was wrong, though.

Helping Cobb didn't help her. Maybe, for a flash, it did. It made her feel useful, as if she had a purposed besides planning out the architecture of the levels. She enjoyed that flash flood of joy she got. But she didn't count on what happened next.

She got stuck with his demons, his worries, and his doubt of reality. In getting Cobb to face the reality, she had exposed herself to her own reality…

The reality of growing up. It's not that she hadn't matured in age-she was 24, and living in her own apartment half way across the world from where she was born. She was also more mature than many other people her age, having never gotten drunk in public. As a matter of fact, she hadn't even drunk more than a small flute of champagne, and even that she didn't like…

It was just that she was lacking in something…rather, she had too much of it-innocence. She'd had her fair share of wild parties and nights out, but none of them, even when added all together, could even get closed to comparing with the experience PASIV dreaming.

When she was dreaming, she killed people. She handled guns that she wouldn't even be able to lift up in reality. She jumped off of amazingly tall buildings, just to wake up in another dream.

In dreams…Ariadne had power.

And that was how she got addicted. The power, it was unbelievable. She could create huge monoliths in mere seconds. She wasn't bound by any laws of gravity. There wasn't any physics involved. Just…pure…creation.

She began getting more involved in any dreams that they went into. The team was still together, even after Cobb said he wasn't coming back. She had laughed at him when they first met again, all of them in a small café similar to the one where she first discussed dreams with him. She had teased him, telling him that the dreams were just too good to resist. He had joked along at first, but then he got serious. He thanked her, telling her that without her help, he would still be trapped in a dream. He said that it was her help that gave him the strength to separate reality from dream. In a way, she had become his totem.

She laughed him off when he had said that, but later, in the quiet of the new warehouse, it struck her just how true his words were. But instead of giving her that same rush of feeling useful that she had on the plane, she was left with despair. In helping Cobb discern reality from dream, she had given up her own ability to do so. She should have been afraid, then, of going back into the dream. But she wasn't. In fact, she felt the need to go in, to force herself to tell the difference.

That was the first time she hooked up to the PASIV, by herself. It had been okay at first. She would build things, never from memory. She would keep building until she ran out of ideas. Then she would shoot herself.

After sometime, her designs started to take on an unrealistic look. Buildings that defied gravity, bridges that hung in the middle of the sky, bridges to nowhere…It helped her for a while. She could now easily tell whether she was in the dream or not. And she enjoyed the beauty of her creations.

But it wasn't long before Arthur started noticing. She tried to keep her creations as realistic for the jobs, but sometimes, a floating phone booth would sneak its way into a dream. She would get rid of it, of course, as quickly as she could, but it wasn't long before Arthur questioned her.

It was after everybody had left. Ariadne had taken to staying back, coming up with different excuses so they wouldn't suspect what she was really doing. She was just about to set the PASIV up again, when she heard footsteps echoing across the warehouse.

"Who's there?" There wasn't an answer. She moved to her desk, picking up a building model, holding it as a weapon.

"Who's there?" she asked again.

"Ariadne?" came Arthur's voice, feigning surprise at seeing her still here. She would have snorted in annoyance, had he not been within hearing range. Working on Cobb's emotional state had only made her better at reading people's voices, their feelings. So it only took her a week or two to understand the Point man, no matter how much he liked to pretend that nobody could understand him. She knew he wasn't surprised that she was here. In fact, he was here because she was here.

"What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" she retorted.

"I left something behind." She turns to look at his workspace. Not even a speck of dust seems apparent on the desk. He would have to come up with a better excuse.

"Oh really? Do you want me to help you look for it?"

He glares at her for a moment, and then gives a small smile. "No, I think I'm fine. I must have not taken it to work in the first place." He turns to walk away, defeated.

She calls out to him, before he steps out. "What were you really here for, Arthur?"

He turns around, a brief smile flashing across his face. "You, Ariadne."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you do here, all alone at night, when nobody's here?"

She starts becoming flustered. "I work on models."

"Really?"

"What do you expect me to say?"

"Just…We're here for you Ariadne…remember that." And then he's gone.

She stops staying late nights in the warehouse.

Over the next couple of weeks things start to get better. Her designs, although still creative, are no longer borderline insane. She thinks that things are back to normal. Then one night, she stays back again. Not for…other reasons, but simply to test out a new maze design. Arthur flashes a concerned glance in her direction, but she smiles back…she knows what she's doing.

She enters the dream. It's been a long time since she's been alone. Arthur, Cobb, sometimes even Eames, will accompany her in. She doesn't mind, not anymore. She enjoys the company…it makes her feel safe.

Now, when she's alone, she is afraid. Of what, she doesn't know. The landscape is another city, almost like Yusuf's layer from the inception, except it is more Parisian. The streets are filled with her projections, filling the air with the sound of a regular evening in Paris-except something is different. She feels it, almost as if there is somebody else in her mind, a new presence. She first thinks its maybe Arthur, entering her dream to check on her.

But after sometime, she realizes that it's not. There were no angry projections attacking anybody, so she continued her examination of the level. The job was reminiscent of the inception in the fact that part of it would take place in a hotel. She enters the hotel, and walks through the rooms. It's deserted.

She's just about to leave, when she hears glass smashing in one of the rooms. It's on the top floor. She pulls out a glock from under her sweater. Hesitantly she kicks the door down…and drops her gun in shock.

Mal.

Mallorie Cobb.

Cobb's Mal.

She's in her dream, surrounded by the remnants of a glass window. Ariadne wants to run, but her feet stay planted on the lush carpet. Mal turns around. Ariadne expects her have a knife, but instead, she opens her arms, a warm smile on her face.

"Ariadne, dear, how are you?"

"Wh-what are you doing here?"

Mal pouts, her arms dropping a slightest fraction. She takes a step closer to Ariadne. Ariadne takes a step back.

"What do you mean, dear? I belong here!"

Ariadne dives for the gun. Her hands shaking, she aims it at Mal. "Get out of my head! You don't belong here!"

"Darling, you don't get it don't you?"

"What do you mean? You know what, forget it! Just get out!" Mal suddenly grabs the gun twisting it out of her hand. She flings it out of the window. Ariadne watches as it drops to the ground, breaking into small pieces. She glances fearfully at Mal. Mal seems to understand this, and wraps her arms around Ariadne, much as a mother would. Soft, comforting sounds come out of her mouth as she slowly rocks the sobbing Ariadne back and forth.

"Why-why are you here?" Ariadne sits up, rubbing her nose.

"Darling, I am your projection." Ariadne tenses. "I am what you want to be…"

Ariadne gasps. She thinks of the glock that was just thrown out the window…she thinks of Mal. "I don't want to be like you!"

Mal nods, understanding what aspect Ariadne is thinking about. "You do, child. That is why I'm here."

"You killed yourself! Why would I want to be like you!"

"Because you're jealous."

Ariadne scoots away from Mal. "Why should I be jealous of you?"

"Because of my freedom," she says, getting up to walk towards the window. "You now have the burden of deciding whether you are in the dream or not, just as I did, and just as my beloved Dom did. I-I didn't survive that burden. It weighed me down, and I had no one there to help me with the weight. But Dom, he was strong. He…he also had you. You helped him. That is why I am here. To help you."

"Help me kill myself?" Ariadne wants to move far away from Mal, away from the open window but she cannot help but move closer.

"No, no, no, no, no…I am here to help you make a choice. I am here to help you choose whether you can carry the burden until someone else takes it away from you, or whether you escape it, by buckling under its weight. That is why I am here." Ariadne moves to stand next to Mal on the window sill.

"Then help me…now. Help me to choose." Mal wraps a protective arm around her shoulder.

"I will do my best." And they jump.

Ariadne wakes up with a start. She rips the lead out of her wrist. Never, never again is she going into a dream alone. That's what she tells herself. But she is wrong. She slowly slips back into her previous pattern of going into the dream; except this time, she waits for Mal.

She tells the shade everything, about her conflicting emotions about Arthur, her struggle in life, everything. And Mal listens. In a way, Ariadne is conducting some sort of psychotherapy session on herself…and it's working. Things start to get better…until Cobb enters her dream.

She and Mal were sitting on the sill again, legs swinging over the edge. She's telling her about all the fun times she had when she was little, all the good memories. It's rather dumb, considering the fact that Mal already knows everything, but she listens, nonetheless. And then, Cobb comes in.

He stares in shock at Mal.

He doesn't give Ariadne anytime to explain or say anything.

He pulls out his gun and shoots Mal.

She falls over the edge.

Ariadne jumps after her, trying to grab onto the only thing keeping her sane.

When they land, they are a tangled heap of bloody limbs. Mal smiles at her, a sad yet accepting smile."Make a choice Ariadne…make a choice..."

Cobb runs down to them, and shoots Ariadne in the head. She doesn't see it, but as he kills himself, a tear rolls down his face.

When they wake up, he immediately starts yelling at her. She runs to the windows, far away from him…far away from everybody. Arthur runs towards her, but she takes off her shoe, smashing the window open. He stops in his tracks, and turns to slowly stare at Cobb.

"You did this to her." His body shakes with anger. Eames and Yusuf run into the room. Eames stops, and turns away, his eyes watering. Yusuf just stands there, holding onto the wall for support.

"Ariadne…"Cobb tries calming her down. She doesn't listen…at first. But then Mal's words echo in her head.

I am here to help you choose…

She didn't want to die like Mal…but she didn't want to end up like Cobb. She was so confused…she didn't know what to do…everything began to blur together…Cobb ran to her, as did Arthur…she was scared…

And she fell…"ARIADNE!"

She plays with the dust motes more often now. Her legs are tucked in a warm blanket, her body in a wheelchair. The fall didn't kill her. But it left her weak, damaged. She was lucky she survived. The doctor said that she could get the use of her legs back, but it would take a long time, and a lot of treatment.

They paid for everything. They would come and visit her, bringing gifts and flowers and get-well-soon cards. And once in a while, Arthur would bring the PASIV, on only one condition: the others came in as well. She was alright with that…as long as they didn't stop letting her dream.

When they were dreaming, they would watch her. Of course, she could walk in the dream, but she stuck to the wheelchair. It made waking up without the use of her legs easier.

Over time, she began to walk again, albeit with a slight limp. She got back to work, and eventually, back to dreaming without supervision. But every now and then, her legs would start hurting, and she would lie down on the lawn chairs. The PASIV would be sitting there, and before she knew it she would be in the dream.

She would sit there, waiting.

For what, she didn't know.

And all the while, she would play with the dust motes, golden in the sunlight…