Disclaimer: None of this is mine, it belongs to Warner Bros and other creative outlets and people, I don't intend to profit from this in any way. I am just trying to curb my own writer's block.
Title from song originally by Bono & U2. I prefer the Jack White version, but to each her own…
To clear things up: The original Inception (the movie) happened in September 2010, according to my story's timeline.
Special thanks to Tenaebryn for the favorite and Lazarus76 for the review. This one is for you two kind people! It's about to get more interesting!
Monday, October 4, 2011: Paris, France: Arthur & Ariadne's apartment: Arthur
Arthur walked off campus, moving south, towards the nearest train station. He didn't have to wait long before a train pulled up, screeching to a stop in a way that reminded him of American subways. He got on, choosing to stand near the doors while his other passengers chose some of the many empty seats.
Arthur never sat on subways. Bad experiences.
He checked his watch as he got off several minutes later and climbed aboveground. The Seine shimmered in the distance, the sun already beginning to set in correspondence with the season. Arthur didn't pause, instead weaving around passersby and tourists with the air of an expert. Not only did he take this commute five times a week, but he was a pro when it came to moving through crowds silently.
A short three minute walk later, and he reached his apartment building, all six floors of it. It was one of the more affluent buildings in the arrondissement, meaning the building was often gawked at by tourists. He also knew architecture students who frequented the building in the hopes of gaining inspiration.
And not just the students I've met, he thought to himself.
The doorman opened the door with a nod in his direction. Arthur ignored the elevator, instead climbing the stairs to the fourth floor. He owned one of the two apartments on the floor, and moved to the door to his, pulling his key from his pocket as he went.
He glanced at the bottom of the door for a moment and froze.
A tiny piece of wood lay on the doormat on the floor. Arthur knelt down and picked it up gingerly, treating it like a ticking bomb. He felt like his heart had stopped beating, while his body began to prepare itself.
Someone's here. Or come and gone?
One thing was for sure: Someone he wasn't expecting had entered his apartment.
He straightened up, dropping the inoffensive piece of wood that acted as a low-tech security system into his coat pocket. His hand switched from the pocket to the inside one of his jacket and his fingers brushed over the metal object he carried on his person at all times.
One year, is that all the peace I get? He wondered. He thought he'd covered his tracks well, blending in to the Parisians and getting a full-time job. For months after the Fischer inception, he'd looked over his shoulder constantly, terrified he would be found and the life he was building would be crushed before it could begin. He'd started to drop his guard at the six-month mark.
The presence of the gun indicated he'd never completely thrown that guard away.
Can this really be happening? He stilled, the question sinking in. Without pausing to consider the logistics of the situation, he reached into one of the pockets of his pants and found the red dice. He looked at it for a moment before letting it tumble out of his palm.
Five white dots stared innocently back at him and Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. A sigh that instantly changed into full-blown point man mode.
All of Arthur's self-preservation instincts screamed at him to flee, to abandon the apartment and take the first cab he saw to the École nationale supérieure des Beaux-Arts, to find Ariadne and put her on the first flight out of the country. But he knew that could be even riskier, if he didn't investigate first and assess the threat.
Plus, he reasoned, it wouldn't be hard to find out tons about me and her by raiding the place.
So he negotiated, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and sending a quick text to Ariadne, warning her to stay at the school until he called her. It was his fail-safe process; he could only hope this first run of it would work.
Phone back in pocket, he returned to his key. Dropping his bag on the hall floor, he pulled the gun out of his pocket and unlocked the door.
The interior hall of his apartment was empty, the paintings of France and famous world landmarks still hanging. The front table still held a small pile of newspapers, a bowl of spare keys and pens. Arthur walked silently, his feet barely making a noise against the wooden floors. He rounded the corner, keeping his eyes away from the sunlight that streamed in from the windows and turned his attention to the dining room table, his gun still raised.
But at the sight of the man standing beside it- admittedly with his own gun raised- Arthur almost laughed in relief and immediately lowered his gun.
"Cobb."
Dom Cobb stood before him, wearing a wrinkled suit but without tie. He kept his gun raised even as Arthur set his down on the table, turning to flip on a light-switch. Cobb didn't speak even when Arthur returned to the exterior hall for his bag, but he relaxed significantly when the front door closed and Arthur returned, dropping his bag on a chair by one of the windows and tossing his coat down beside it.
Arthur was acutely aware that Cobb had yet to speak, which might not have been alarming, but was admittedly a little strange. He continued to move about the apartment, acting like everything was normal and Cobb wasn't still pointing a gun at him.
"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" Arthur finally asked, pausing in the kitchen.
"I already had some of your bread and fruit," Cobb said without missing a beat.
Arthur shrugged. "Not surprising, considering you broke into my home."
"You knew I was here. How?"
"How?" Arthur repeated incredulously. "Cobb, you of all people know that I never leave without some sort of security in place." He reached into his pocket and held up the small piece of wood. Cobb's eyes closed in recognition.
"I forgot. So primitive."
"But effective," Arthur countered. He stood, facing Cobb with hands in his pockets, the gun still pointed at his chest. "Is the gun really necessary, Cobb?"
Cobb nodded once. Arthur's eyebrows soared.
Cobb cleared his throat and nodded to the dining room table. "Take a seat, please, Arthur."
Confused, but certain Cobb wasn't going to shoot him, Arthur sat. After a moment's hesitation, Cobb followed suit, resting his hand with the gun on the table in front of him, facing Arthur.
"What's this all about?" Arthur asked.
Cobb blinked. "He took my children."
It took Arthur all of five seconds to grasp the sentence, impressive but still longer than normal. "Who?"
"Browning."
Arthur's mind went into overdrive as he processed this. "Browning. Not-"
"From the Fischer case, yes," Cobb confirmed. As he spoke, Arthur reassessed Cobb's appearance. His clothes weren't just wrinkled; they were creased and worn. They hadn't been washed in a while, a trait Cobb himself shared. His hair was messy, facial hair longer than Arthur had ever seen it. His eyes were dark and empty. Moral-less.
"When?" Arthur asked, all business.
"Two days ago. I came as fast as I could."
"Why?"
Cobb's eyes bugged a little bit. "Because Browning gave me a message. If I want to get them back, I have to return to Fischer's mind and undo the inception."
Arthur stared. "Come again?"
"He wants me to remove the idea, and replace it with a new one."
"Yes, I got that," Arthur said slowly. "But… But that was inception. It wasn't just a walk in the park sort of thing. Remember, Cobb? Remember how difficult it was, how we almost failed, how you almost-"
He broke off, Cobb's persistent nodding ending his rant.
"I was there," Cobb reminded him. "I remember what happened."
"It's been a year. How does he expect Fischer to change his mind now?"
"Fischer has had an offer from a young energy company," Cobb replied. "Young, but promising. He's planning on turning them down, but Browning thinks they have enough potential to help the empire return to its former glory."
Arthur's jaw was slack, but he kept it in place somehow. "He's insane."
"He wants his life back."
"Cobb, it can't be done," Arthur pressed.
"I knew you would say that."
Arthur had always been good at understanding the ulterior motives of others, the things they were really saying behind their speech. So when Cobb said those words, everything fell into place and the gun pointed at his heart was suddenly more threatening than anything he'd experienced in months.
"You're dragging me back," Arthur said quietly.
Cobb nodded. "I'm sorry, Arthur."
"How did you find me, anyway?"
"I thought you would've stayed in the states," Cobb explained. "I looked there first. Boston, New York, Chicago. The usual suspects. When it was clear you weren't there, I moved to Europe. Barcelona, Stockholm, Copenhagen, Athens-"
A muscle in Arthur's jaw twitched, but he remained still.
"-I never expected you to stay in Paris. But Stephen told me a few months ago that you were leaving the fold, and it hit me that you might want to come back to the university. You liked it there."
"So did you," Arthur hissed scathingly before he could stop himself. Cobb's chin raised in defiance and Arthur winced inwardly. "That was uncalled for."
"Not really," Cobb admitted. Arthur agreed, the gun resting between them.
"But it didn't stop me from being stunned to see Arthur Zaleski was part of Geneviève Durant's research team," Cobb continued. "Why are you using your real name?"
Arthur rested his fist on the table. "I'm done running, Cobb. I left."
"That doesn't justify it. Anyone who wants you dead would be all too pleased to realize Arthur Zaleski is parading around as a dream researcher at one of the world's most prestigious universities for psychology."
Arthur didn't even take a deep breath, but he knew exactly what Cobb was doing. He was an extractor, after all, and one of the best; Cobb was incredibly talented at wheedling information out of people who didn't want to give it. Luckily, Arthur was not one easily swayed to cave.
"You'll have to do better than that, Cobb," he said calmly.
There was a trace of sadness on Cobb's features. "I wish I didn't. You won't even consider it?"
"It can't be done. I'm not coming back for something that'll only raise my status in that world again. I can't risk being found here." Arthur hesitated, unwilling to throw his old friend to the sharks, especially with the lives of his children on the line. "How long is Browning giving you to assemble a team?"
"The end of the week."
Arthur stared. "Shit, Dom. It's Monday."
"I'm aware," Cobb said with a level face. "Once you've agreed, I'm flying to London to track down Eames. Shouldn't be hard; we met in Los Angeles for drinks a few months back."
"Eames?" Arthur repeated. "He's not going to get onboard with this anymore than I am."
"I've got…" Cobb hesitated. Under the table, Arthur's hand tightened into a fist. He suddenly wished he hadn't left his gun on the other side, so far away…
"Eames is wanted in almost as many places as us," Cobb said gently. "But he's also wanted for federal jurisdiction. Eames can evade solitary assassins; but he has a harder time hiding from whole international police forces who can bypass the laws of extradition."
"You're going to blackmail him," Arthur said. He didn't bother to arrange his expression. He let Cobb see how scandalized and disapproving he really was.
Cobb's expression grew fierce. "It's my children, Arthur. Philippa and James. They're all I have left. What would you do if it was me?"
"There are dozens of others on the planet who would be all too happy to help you with this," Arthur reminded him. "If money is an issue, I'll pay the fee for the point man in my place. I don't think it would be too hard to convince Eames to do the same for the forger. So why are you so dead-set on us?"
Cobb got to his feet, and Arthur breathed a little more easily when the gun moved from his chest. He watched silently as Cobb paced, an odd image in the otherwise peaceful and tranquil apartment.
"You're the best at what you do," Cobb murmured. "And so is Eames. I like Eames, I've worked with him many times… There's a saying, you know: 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it.' That's what I'm doing. I'm re-creating the original team."
Arthur felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "So, Eames and me… And-"
"Yusuf is still in Mombasa," Cobb nodded. "I'll have to arrange a way to contact him. He might be more flexible than you and Eames."
"And Ariadne?" Arthur forced himself to not choke on her name.
Cobb's face fell. "That… I don't know about. I assume she's still in the city, finishing her degree, but… I promised Stephen I wouldn't bring her into this, and I broke that promise once. I don't want to do it again. I figured you could help me track down a new architect. Plus… She doesn't owe me anything at all. More likely, I owe her."
Well, there was a plus. Arthur exhaled quietly.
Cobb finally looked up at Arthur. "As for you, you know why I came to you first. You're my best friend, Arthur. I would do it for you if our positions were switched."
Like with Sadie earlier, Arthur was more than ready to get out of the conversation. "Like hell you would. You know I'd be sticking my neck out for you. Word gets around too quickly for me to make a good safety net."
Cobb nodded once. He'd stopped pacing and Arthur realized that something had broken; Cobb had reached the end of his patience, just like Arthur.
"Your argument is true," Cobb admitted. "But you're speaking like a man without attachments. That's no longer the case now, isn't it?"
Arthur kept his poker face intact. "What do you mean?"
Cobb merely blinked. "Unless you're trying out an alternative lifestyle, Arthur, there is no reason for there to be a blouse hanging off the chair under the window, an eyelash curler in your bathroom and a hairbrush on your bed. You don't live here alone. There's a woman in the picture."
Arthur almost went to his dice. He had to be dreaming. This was not happening.
Cobb assessed Arthur's face, studying the minute tics and responses that only he could pick up, having known Arthur for so long. He could tell that Arthur was working hard to conceal his emotions, though he wasn't sure what those were at this point.
"What's her name?" He asked gently.
Arthur almost fell over with relief. He doesn't know. He swallowed once, again leveling his eyes with Cobb's. "When did you get here?"
"About ten minutes before you showed up. I only got a passing glance in the rooms. Why is one of them locked?"
Arthur knew he was talking about Ariadne's office, where she kept all her projects and plans. The place was a mess, but completely her own, and he loved it.
And Cobb had inadvertently revealed something crucial: He hadn't found Ariadne's name.
Not to mention: If Sadie hadn't stopped him, Arthur would've been in the apartment when Cobb broke in. But would anything be different?
No. I still would've lowered my gun, and I'd be sitting here still.
"It's unimportant," he murmured.
Cobb nodded once, choosing to not press it. "How much does she know?"
"Everything."
Cobb's eyebrows skyrocketed, his expression utterly bemused. "It's that serious? Stephen didn't say."
"Miles has a thing about respecting privacy…"
Cobb's cheek twitched, recognizing that Arthur was hinting at the dream extraction heists Miles had never approved of.
"Is this why you left?" Cobb asked, spinning around and gripping the gun more tightly. "Because of her?"
"More like for her," Arthur corrected him.
"You're going by your real name…"
"…Because I don't want to be someone I'm not when I'm with her," Arthur said, finishing his sentence. "I don't lie to her. She understands."
"Arthur, that's…" Cobb was obviously stunned, almost to the point of speechlessness. "Well. That's great."
"Normally is," Arthur agreed. "And I never thought I'd say this, but… I'm very disappointed you found out."
Arthur kept his voice level, but inside, he was a bundle of terror and nerves. Cobb was dangerously close to making him crack. The gun in Cobb's hand held more importance, but… Surely he would never…
You never thought he'd point a gun at you in the real world, either.
"Where is she right now?" Cobb wondered, pausing in his pacing to glance at his watch.
Arthur snorted. "Right."
"What?"
"You expect me to tell you where she is when you've broken into our home and are currently twirling a gun in front of me? I don't think so."
Cobb nodded, giving Arthur a small smile. "Yes, you're right. I was just wondering how much longer this would take."
Arthur blanched; Cobb noticed. But Arthur didn't care. Cobb had gone past the point of no return. "You're going to wait for her?"
"I have to, don't I? How else are you going to come with me?"
"You've gotta be shitting me," Arthur snapped. "After everything, eleven years of friendship, and running from hit men around the world, after your kids and all that happened with Mal, after all that… You're blackmailing me by threatening my girlfriend?"
Cobb steadied the gun. It was pointed directly at Arthur's forehead.
"I wouldn't kill her," he murmured in a tone Arthur guessed was supposed to be reassuring but fell flat during the current circumstances. "I wouldn't do that to you. But unlike with Eames, you're a professional at evading anyone or anything. Even after everything we've been through, I couldn't name the places you keep your money, or the connections you have abroad. You could run forever if you had to. But I've run with people whose lives I value above my own, and I know how much harder it is. How easy it is to slip up, to forget they can't move as quickly as you…"
Arthur couldn't breathe. "So you're going to tell-"
"Cobol, first," Cobb admitted softly. "I know you haven't squared accounts with them yet. You're still in their top ten most wanted, but they don't really try to look for you because of the reasons I just said. You're like a ghost. But she… She's real."
"So you'll tell Cobol where to find my girlfriend," Arthur finished. "Because you've seen how attached I am."
"It sure doesn't sound like you would leave her," Cobb nodded.
"Selling her out to Cobol is a death sentence, and you know it," Arthur hissed, his hands tightening into fists. "You might as well put a bullet in her head."
Cobb shook his head. "I wouldn't-"
"Yes, because indirectly causing her death is so much better-"
"She won't die," Cobb said softly. "You would turn yourself into Cobol first."
"Which means you've signed my death sentence," Arthur said gruffly. "You're right, that should make me feel better. I understand why you're pointing that gun at me now, because once I refuse, you might as well shoot me here and now."
Cobb frowned. "I wouldn't kill you."
"Really? All evidence right now is pointing to the contrary." Arthur glared daggers at the older man. "I trusted you. You're blackmailing me. I would never have held Mal against you, and you know it."
"Arthur…" Cobb shook his head with desperation, looking like the mad man Arthur felt he'd become. "Arthur… It's my kids…"
"Yeah, and it's my girlfriend, she…" He struggled for words, swallowing the truth he really wanted to shout. Instead, his eyes zeroed in on the gun again. "But for Christ's sake, Cobb, would you please lower that thing?"
"I thought I just-"
"I know why you're keeping a gun on me, but even if she knows everything, seeing you pointing a gun at my head isn't going to clear anything up for her." He raised his eyes to Cobb's. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."
Cobb considered, keeping his eyes locked on Arthur's. They stared each other down for a long moment before Cobb shook his head.
"I can't. I know you, Arthur. I drop my guard for a second and you're out the door, and what am I left with?"
Twenty minutes, until I can find a sniper rifle and shoot you between the eyes. "You don't even trust me anymore."
"You wouldn't either."
"I would never do this, Cobb!" Arthur said, his voice rising. "This is over the line, and you know it. I thought we had an agreement to never make anything personal."
"Arthur…" Cobb's breath caught. "I'm desperate. Philippa, and James… They're everything to me. They're my whole life."
"She's mine," Arthur said before he could stop himself. If possible, Cobb looked even more surprised.
"It is very serious, then."
"Might not be after this," Arthur remarked. "A psychotic ex-best friend isn't good for anyone."
Cobb's mouth quirked when Arthur mentioned ex, but he didn't regret it. Cobb knew what he was doing was completely messed up.
"So you, of all people, should understand," Cobb whispered. "You would do anything to keep her, too."
"Don't do this," Arthur said, speaking faster now. "Don't do this to me, Cobb. Please, if I've ever meant anything to you, or if you've ever felt like you should pay me back for nine years of protecting you, and Mal, and your children… Then turn around and walk out of my apartment, and never contact me again."
He was aware he was pleading, begging, but he couldn't stop.
"I'm tired of the running," he continued. "I'm settling down, Cobb. I'm done. Retired. I haven't dreamt in three months, that's the longest I've ever gone without using the PASIV, and two weeks ago, I had my first natural dream in ten years. And it was the epitome of bliss." He shook back the sleeves of his dress shirt, revealing countless needle scars that were fading. "So I'm begging you, Cobb. Leave me alone. Let me get on with my life. It isn't too late for me to make something honest of it. Please."
Cobb's hand tightened on the gun. "Arthur… I…" He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them swiftly. The fast reflexes were all Arthur needed to acknowledge his plea would be ignored. Cobb wanted him. He wanted the whole team, and he wasn't accepting no.
"Fine," Arthur hissed. "Okay. I accept, or whatever the hell the word should be. Give me five minutes to pack and we can leave."
Cobb stared at him. "Leaving now?"
"Yeah, why?"
"I just thought you'd want to wait and explain things," Cobb said.
More than anything, Arthur did. But he couldn't risk Cobb seeing Ariadne at the apartment, or seeing them together on the street and connecting the dots. If Cobb wasn't planning on tracking her down, then Arthur wanted nothing more than to keep her out of the picture. And he was going to try his best to make sure he wasn't the reason Cobb found her.
"I want to keep her out of it," Arthur said. "If this doesn't end well, someone might come after her. For the money, at least." He stood, the gun following his move, pointed once more at his forehead. "I'll call her at the airport."
"You have changed," Cobb remarked. "You're in love."
"She lives with me, of course I am," Arthur snapped, irritated. "Now, if you'll just let me-"
But he broke off, frozen, at the sound of the front door opening. Arthur's back was to the hallway, and he focused on Cobb's face, watching the older man's eyebrows raise and his grip on the gun tighten.
"Is that her?" He asked softly.
"Arthur?" Arthur closed his eyes at hearing Ariadne call his name from the hall. He glanced at Cobb, studying the extractor's face. It looked focused, thinking; Cobb knew he'd heard that voice before, but he couldn't quite place where.
As soon as Arthur heard the sound of Ariadne's boots tapping on the floor as she made her way down the hallway, Arthur knew he had to keep it that way, before Cobb could see her face.
He leapt at Cobb, seizing the barrel of the gun in his left hand and turning it away from Ariadne's direction, instead pointing it towards the kitchen area. Cobb's hand moved too slow, but still fast enough to be a reflex; the bullet exploded from the end, burying itself in the far wall. The silencer wasn't enough; the crack was shattering.
While Cobb grappled to bring the gun around, Arthur drew back his right hand. Just as Ariadne rounded the corner, he slammed his fist into the side of Cobb's head. The extractor swayed, stumbling back and grabbing the kitchen counter for support, his back to Ariadne and the dining room.
Knowing he only had moments, Arthur spun around to face her. He took a second to catalogue her appearance; physically fine, but with an expression so horrified and scared it practically made his heart stop, before taking the only chance he had.
"Go!" He yelled at her, not bothering to make his voice quieter or to offer such pleasantries like, it'll be okay, I'm fine, or anything like that. "Run! Go!"
A fist slammed into his jaw, and it was Arthur's turn to stumble. He caught himself on the table and spun, meeting Cobb's concentrated gaze. He ducked as Cobb swung again, and managed to land a punch into Cobb's stomach. But his proximity put him in a precarious situation—he hadn't fought Cobb in years, they were both far past their days of sparring—and Cobb used his heavier weight to an advantage, wrapping an arm around Arthur's neck and spinning him around, pinning his back to his chest. Arthur felt the cold metal of the silencer press to his temple and all he could think was if there is a God, please have Ariadne already outside and away from here—
"No!"
There was no God. Arthur couldn't turn his head, but he had a pretty clear vantage point to see that Ariadne hadn't moved. She still stood in the archway between the hall and the dining room, only seven feet away from where Cobb and Arthur stood. Her hands were outstretched, as if she was preparing to grab Arthur. But her gaze was focused solely on Cobb, who must've been beyond shocked, but was maintaining an excellent grip on Arthur and the gun.
"Ariadne?" Cobb's voice was tight. Arthur could imagine his expression, though he couldn't see his face, Cobb's arm still wrapped around his throat in a grip that was uncomfortable, but not quite painful yet. "What are you doing here?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?" She asked, breathlessly. Her eyes finally flickered from Cobb's face, down, to Arthur's, and he could see the questions in them. Why? What's he doing here? Why is there a gun pointed at your head?
"Yes, but-" Cobb suddenly broke off, and Arthur knew why. It'd clicked at last; Ariadne's appearance wasn't a coincidence; Arthur's girlfriend had showed up after all.
Arthur used the sudden slack in Cobb's arm to his advantage. He pulled himself out of Cobb's grip, but didn't bother going far. Instead, he straightened, placing himself directly in front of Cobb and blocking Ariadne from his view.
Cobb's eyes were amazed. "Her? It's her?"
Arthur nodded once, without hesitation.
"How long?"
"A year," Arthur murmured softly.
It was Cobb's turn to nod. "Since Los Angeles. The Fischer job."
Arthur didn't bother to give an affirmation. He remained still, never tearing his eyes from Cobb's. Cobb didn't have much of a choice but to do the same, considering Arthur was standing so close in front of him.
"I never would've guessed that," Cobb admitted.
"I was hoping that would happen," Arthur agreed. Cobb's eyes flashed, realizing why Arthur had been in such a hurry to leave. He raised the gun, but kept it level, again at Arthur's head.
"Could you please-" Ariadne's choked voice caused both men to turn around. She was wringing her hands together, her book bag still on her shoulder and sunglasses perched on her hair. Her eyes were looking directly at Cobb. "Could you please not point that gun at his head?"
Cobb blinked. "It bothers you?"
"Yes," Ariadne hissed. "What the hell is going on, Cobb?"
"He won't shoot me," Arthur said calmly, turning back around to face Cobb again. He knew they were both listening to him; he could practically feel Ariadne's eyes focused on his turned back. "He needs me."
"True," Cobb agreed. "I wouldn't kill you. But I might…" He shifted the gun lower, pointing at Arthur's right side. "There. You had your appendix removed when you were nine years old. A bullet would go straight through you."
"But it would hurt like hell," Arthur said, finishing Cobb's unspoken thought. "You sick bastard."
"Cobb, why are you doing this?" Ariadne asked quietly. Arthur listened as her boots tapped across the floor, making her way over to them. He spoke when he could see her in his peripheral vision, paused near his shoulder.
"Ariadne, if my sanity means anything at all to you, you will please stop moving," he snapped, not looking at her. She did stop though, hovering at his side. He took a deep breath and finally took his eyes away from Cobb's, to look at hers. He swallowed once, staring deeply into chocolate brown, his favorite color on the planet. "Please. Turn around and walk away. I will call you when it's okay for you to come home."
She narrowed her eyes. "Arthur, I can't leave you like this…"
"If you love me, you will," he said smoothly. "I can handle this. He isn't going to shoot me." He looked back up at Cobb. "You won't have enough time to plan an inception if I'm lying in a hospital. You can't afford this."
Cobb frowned. Ariadne looked away from Arthur, turning to study him instead. She looked calm, but interested.
"Inception?" She repeated. "You're planning an inception?"
"Reverse inception," Cobb corrected.
"And you need Arthur?"
"He's the best," Cobb said. "There's no one else who would have as good a shot as him."
"Shut up," Arthur growled. "Ari, please. Just walk away. For me. Please."
To his surprise (considering she'd blatantly ignored his earlier text message) she listened, turning around and walking away. Cobb looked confused, leaning around Arthur who had to move away from Cobb to watch her. He'd expected more of a fight. He knew, without a doubt, that if things had been the other way around, nothing could've made him leave her. So why—
His question was answered when she stopped at the end of the table. Moving quickly, he stared as she picked up his abandoned gun, training it on Cobb, who was now exposed since Arthur had moved to the side.
Her expression was fierce, but remained practiced and calm. Her hand wasn't shaking, though Arthur internally was.
"Cobb," she said tensely. "I think Arthur's got a valid argument for why you won't shoot him. But the fact is that you're pointing a gun at the man I love, and he's acting like it's no big deal, and his biggest concern is to get me out of here, which means you've said something to him about me that has him in a panic. And we both know he doesn't panic. But somehow, he is right now, which means I cannot leave him. So I'm going to say this once, Cobb; put down the gun or I will shoot you."
Cobb looked bewildered. "Excuse me?"
"You told him you would hurt me," Ariadne said calmly. As always, her instincts and understanding of others proved her correct. "I don't think that'll happen, though honestly, it does feel a little bit like anything is possible right now. But the point is that I really don't think I can stand one more moment of this, especially without knowing what the hell is going on."
Cobb's eyes swiveled to Arthur's, though the gun in his hand remained pointed at Arthur's side. "Is she bluffing?"
Arthur merely blinked. "She's a good shot."
"You taught her?"
"He's not stupid enough to not," Ariadne pointed out gently. "If anyone found out we were together…"
"… They could use you as leverage," Cobb finished. "Yes, I understand. I would've taught Mal how to use a gun as well if she hadn't known how already." He looked back at Arthur. "You really are trying to start over."
"What was your first clue?" Arthur asked dryly.
"Okay, Ariadne," Cobb said, ignoring Arthur's snark and returning to Ariadne's proposition. "I agree to your demand." He lowered the gun, pointing it at the floor and Arthur relaxed a bit. "Now what?"
"Now, you put it on the table and pass it to me." Ariadne's voice was like steel. Cobb nodded and followed her directions, placing the gun on the surface and sending it sliding towards Ariadne's end. She picked it up gingerly and flicked the safety on before shoving it into her bag. Only then did she lower the gun.
"I'll keep both of these," she told the two men, flicking the safety on Arthur's gun and adding it to her bag. "And the three of us are going out somewhere in public where you can fill me in on what's going on."
Cobb put his hands in his pockets and smiled at Arthur. "You taught her well."
Arthur raised his eyebrows. "I didn't teach her how to negotiate. That's all her."
"Of course it is," Cobb agreed. He nodded at Ariadne. "Lead the way."
