Author's Note: lynx's turn! like i said, way better than mine

Disclaimer: I do not own Inception or any of the characters. I only co own the plot line and perhaps some new characters later in the story.

Eames POV

I wasn't sure why he let me hold him, but I was glad that he did. He was upset, clearly, and I didn't know how else to comfort him. My point man was supposed to be able to handle anything stoically; it was one of the laws of my universe. To watch him breaking now set my world spinning in a jumbled up haze, unsure of its purpose. Cobb had thrown us headfirst into a bloody confusing mess, and I wanted nothing more than to fix it and make everything okay again—whatever that meant. "Then we do this together," I informed him, not letting my reluctance show in my words. I wasn't letting him face Limbo alone, no matter how fucking terrified I was at the idea of going there myself. "You're going to need all the help you can get." He sobbed a little—not much, but anything from Arthur was an extreme reaction—and clung on, not just allowing me to hold him now, but holding me back. Some feeling—I didn't know what it was and didn't care to—welled up inside me and I found myself promising, "We'll find a way, love." Such an optimistic promise considering my fatalistic viewpoint, but now I was determined to succeed. I was afraid Arthur would break if we didn't.

Being Arthur, he soon pushed away from me, faking composure once more. "Time to wake up?" A gun appeared in his hand and he tilted his head to the side endearingly.

I nodded and looked away as he shot himself in the head—a sight I'd never gotten used to. I picked up the gun from the ground and shot myself quickly, waking back up in my own body. As always it took a second to reorient myself; I was in a chair next to the bed Arthur was now sitting on, the PASIV hooked up between us. The whirring died down as the machine turned off and we were left in silence.

"So… plans?" I asked. He blinked and nodded, pulling a briefcase out from under the bed and passing me the files stored inside. I read through them slowly and grinned. "I think… I think I can make this work." His smile was hopeful, but afraid to hope, tiny and incredibly beautiful. I'd make my plan work.

The hospital Cobb was in was posh. I hadn't ever seen one like this; it looked like a Four Seasons resort! The thing had to be costing Arthur a lot of money. Our jobs kept us loaded, but this place had to be taking its toll on his wallet.

Arthur, however, looked completely at ease strolling into the bloody magnificent building. He must have visited often, because everyone inside nodded to him or smiled at him or stopped to say hello. Arthur smiled and charmed his way through them; and people thought I was the charming one? He was bloody brilliant with these people, but then, he'd have to be to keep Cobb on life support for six months after they'd declared him dead.

I shuddered, remembering that day. He'd gone bloody insane when he'd been told that Cobb was lost; no one did denial quite like Arthur did, and for a moment we'd all glimpsed the killer hidden deep inside Arthur. It wasn't a side anyone liked to see. So they'd given in, given Arthur control over Cobb's future, and six months later nothing was different. Arthur's money was being slowly drained and Cobb kept breathing right on with those machines, his life and sanity siphoning away with Arthur's funds. Letting him die would really be the kindest thing—he'd be released from Limbo then, at least (or so they thought)—but absolutely no one did denial like Arthur.

He was the most frustrating man in existence.

We finally crossed the long, opulent lobby full of lush plants (who puts plants all over a hospital lobby?) and made it to the elevator. I leaned against the wall inside, feeling a bit drained. Normally jobs had me excited, got me thinking eccentric, but this one wasn't so fun. I was already weary of just the idea of it; how would I ever get into it enough to complete it?

Why was I even doing it? It wasn't a real job; there was no payoff—unless I counted Arthur's sanity as a reward. I was a bit unnerved to find that I did.

"You okay?" I glanced over to see Arthur watching me a bit uncertainly, not that his expression showed much. I'd just gotten good at reading him over the years. I was always one for puzzles, after all.

"Fine," I promised, flashing him a wide grin. He bought it, albeit a bit reluctantly, and smiled back. He seemed to be feeling better already, just being here. He must reallycare about his best friend.

Why did that make me jealous?

I was relieved now to be out of the tight confines of the elevator. I noticed little about the hospital, because I was now focused on getting to Cobb, getting the job done, and getting the hell away from Arthur as fast as I could for a few weeks or so. Clearly, he messed with my thought process, and I valued the ability to think.

Seeing Cobb, though, I had to freeze a little. I mean, I'd seen him ages ago, right after the Inception job. But it had all been so unreal then: he'd looked like he might just be asleep, waiting for the sedatives to wear off. He didn't look like that now. He was paler than normal, skinnier than he should be, his face drawn. Cobb's most notable trait was his vibrant personality. He constantly sparked with life; he was like one of those sparklers yanks light off on their Independence Day. His spark was gone now—lost or dead—and suddenly I could see why Arthur wanted him back. I'd never really liked Cobb, personally, but a world without his spark was a much darker place. Maybe, just maybe, Cobb was worth rescuing.

The next thing I noticed was the pictures on the window sill, facing Cobb and the visitor's chair. Two beautiful young children, kids I'd caught brief glimpses of during past jobs with Cobb. I could still faintly recall the echoes of laughter hanging in my ears, the trademark that Cobb's issues were once again screwing up a job. But now these children weren't a problem, just innocent and adorable little kiddos, flames in their own right. They'd lost both of their parents now, and even if I wasn't doing this for Arthur, or Cobb's spark, I'd be doing it for them. They deserved their father back, especially after all he'd lost for them.

A soft click brought me back to present and I saw that Arthur had settled the PASIV case on a table next to the bed. He dragged both chairs over until they were next to it and closed the door, locking it easily and barring it with a third chair. "Been busy, love?"

He shrugged. "I just got what we needed. The nurse won't check on us for a few hours, anyway."

"Hopefully it doesn't take longer," I murmured, staring at the device with trepidation I hadn't felt since my first few jobs. "Ready to dance, darling?" I asked, light teasing in my voice. He rolled his eyes and turned the machine on, a soft whir—nearly inaudible, really, except to those that knew to listen for it—started up, filling our silence with someone we both understood.

We hooked Cobb up and then ourselves, slipping into the darkness of the dream.

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