Disclaimer: I don't own Inception and I receive no profit from writing this story.

A/N: I probably should have mentioned this before, but Arthur is NOT meant to be the same in this story as he is in the movie. At least, not at first. He grows to become the Arthur we know, he doesn't start out that way. So if he's slightly out of character, he's that way on purpose. Just wanted to clear that up :)

Chapter 4

The next few lessons were not so successful. It was hard for Arthur to grasp the concepts that were possible in dream state but not in reality. His mind was so focused on what was and wasn't possible that he often had Cobb rolling his eyes and repeating the statement that had sort of become a motto: "You have to rethink possible." He was right. Dreams redefined everything Arthur had ever known. It was a slow process, but by the end of the week he'd actually earned a smile from Cobb as they both pulled out their IV's.

"I think we're ready to move on." Cobb had said it simply, without any further explanation, leaving Arthur to contemplate what could possibly be coming next.

It had taken them seven painfully slow days to cover dream physics. Arthur was now comfortable enough in shared dreaming to understand how and when things could be different from real life science. Paradoxes had particularly caught his attention. They'd spent the last day and a half of his physics training going over the multitude of paradoxes (such as his favorite, the Penrose Steps) and it was the first thing he'd caught onto easily. Loss of gravity, bending of solids like they were made of no more than paper—that to him was hard to grasp. A staircase that never came to an end, but could suddenly have a sheer and deadly drop when things returned to reality (or more correctly, the dream physics was discarded for real three dimensional physics) somehow both captivated and clicked with him. From that point on, he was able to forget what it meant to think something was impossible. At least, to some extent.

What was to happen next was a mystery to Arthur. Frankly, the whole concept of a "Point Man" was still elusive. Cobb wasn't exactly one for details. He only told Arthur what he felt was absolutely necessary for him to know. This "need to know" attitude was quite likely an attempt to teach the younger man patience, but it wasn't working so well. Arthur was normally a very quick learning. He asked questions and tried his best to work things out for himself, and fast. With Cobb, it was stop and go. He'd get one concept and barrel ahead to try and get the next one, or even before he fully understood what he was doing in one thing, he was already asking about what came next. Cobb would have none of this. He said only what pertained to what was he was teaching at that moment, and no more. This frustrated Arthur to no end because he'd never been forced to learn like that before. But at the same time, he understood that mastery was essential in this line of work, so though it was almost physically painful for his to bite back his questions sometimes, he was starting to learn the patience to focus on one task at a time.

Maybe that was what had earned him the smile that day, or maybe it was just the fact that Cobb no longer had to pound into the new Point Man's head the concepts of dream physics, but whatever it was, Arthur couldn't help but smile too as he headed back to his apartment that night. Despite his distaste with much of how Cobb behaved, Arthur wanted nothing more than his approval. Perhaps because he knew Cobb was so hard to please, the challenge seemed even more worth tackling.

XXX

"He's just…defiant," Dom complained into the phone which he had caught precariously between his shoulder and his head—which was bent over to keep the phone from toppling—as he opened the microwave to remove his TV dinner. He missed his wife's cooking. "But it's not like he's disobeying me or anything. In fact, it's completely the opposite. He's got this intense need to prove himself. It's like everything I tell him to do he's got to do ten times better than I would expect."

Mal's soft laughter wafted through the phone like it had been carried to him on a breeze. How was it that even thousands of miles away she could manage to make his heart stop?

"I like him already," she said serenely.

Dom dropped his plate rather clumsily onto the table, nursing his burnt fingers for a moment before answering. "Tell me it's not just because I don't like him," he teased.

"You don't dislike him," she said with authority. "You just don't understand him. Or maybe you understand him too well because he's like you. A perfectionist."

"He's not like me." The words rang with finality.

"Oh?" She was mocking him. What she meant was, "You're in denial."

"He has no imagination. He's not a rule breaker, he doesn't push boundaries. He executes to the most perfect detail of what I've asked him to do, but he doesn't think for himself."

"How long has it been, Dom?" she reminded him gently. "Give the boy a chance. Besides," this time she laughed at him again while she spoke, "you're training him like he's going to be an Extractor. He's not. He's going to be a Point Man. And from what I hear, he's perfect for it."

Dom had returned to the counter, leaning forward against it until his elbows were resting on it. "I'm not sure I'm cut out for teaching," he said with a hint of a smile in his own voice. "I miss you too much; I might just give up and come home."

She made a small noise of dismissal at this comment, making his smile widen as he let out a soft sigh of laughter. "Don't you think about that!" her voice was firm, but still soft and gentle, as always. "It's not long until he graduates. Then you bring him here, and I will train him."

He straightened at this, his smile faltering. "Are you sure?"

"Dom"—he always felt strange at the sound of his name on her lips. Like something electric had swept through his stomach and chest—"you're no Point Man. You couldn't be. It's just not you. You can teach him everything he needs to know to navigate the dreams. But you can't teach him to be a Point Man. No matter how hard you try."

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

"Bring him here, and I will train him," she repeated. This time, it wasn't a suggestion.

"I love you." He meant the words so strongly he couldn't think of anything else to say.

He could hear her smile as she spoke. "Don't give up yet, darling. I know this will work."

There was a pause where neither of them spoke. Dom listened to the evenness of her breathing, the sound of Phillipa chattering indistinctly in the background. His heart ached with loneliness for them.

"I love you," he repeated.

"I love you."

Then she hung up and he stood for a moment, listening to the dial tone.

XXX

Arthur arrived on time the next morning, his school bag slung over his shoulder and across his chest, expecting this to be a long lesson. Cobb was waiting for him, standing over his desk, preparing the dream machine. The older man didn't turn around when he heard Arthur enter.

"I've decided to make a change in our plans for today."

Arthur's eyebrows lifted slightly as he listened to his mentor talk. He dropped his bag to the floor, putting his hands in his pockets (a habit he'd picked up from Cobb. He hadn't been much for it only two weeks before). Finally, the trainer turned around to face Arthur, leaning against the desk and folding his arms (something he picked up from Arthur, the younger man noted with the faintest of smiles).

"Today we test you in the maze."

"The maze?" Arthur repeated quizzically.

Cobb nodded. "I'm going to see how well you were paying attention to your lessons thus far."

"How?" he was beginning to get ever so slightly nervous. He shifted his weight onto one foot. It was a pose Cobb hated; it made the younger man only look more defiant, like he was trying to prove he was at ease under pressure.

"Have a seat," the older man said coolly. "Let's strap you in and you'll see."

Fully aware that Cobb was purposefully ignoring the question, Arthur obeyed, keeping his eyes on the trainer while he sat on the edge of the cushion and pulled over a catheter to attach to his wrist. It had taken him several times to be able to attach it himself. He'd never been good with needles. But as soon as he saw Cobb's eyes on him, he forgot his fear and now he was able to do it himself with only the slightest trembling in his hands.

Immediately, he was asleep.

XXX

The building was spacious with floor to ceiling windows on one side. He recognized it immediately. It was the office building they'd used for physics training. Inwardly he groaned. He didn't have time to do much else before Cobb was standing beside him, hands in pockets, face a mask.

"Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?" Arthur was pleased that only the slightest hint of impatience colored his tone.

The older man was already turning to leave. "You'll see."

Arthur opened his mouth to demand a proper answer, but no sooner had he done so than he was cut off by the sound of a gunshot.

He cursed under his breath.

"Cobb!" There was no sign of the trainer. "Cobb!"

Another gunshot. Projections were beginning to panic, running in different directions, most of them massing towards the door which, to Arthur's irritation but not surprise, were locked. They were trapped.

Remembering the design of the building, Arthur turned in the opposite direction and headed straight for the stairs. To his relief, there was no resistance as he pushed it open. He found himself on in an empty stairwell reaching up more floors than he cared to count. Quickly, he tried the door one floor beneath—the basement. It was locked. No way but up now. He started running.

He reached the third floor before he heard someone following him on the stairs. Just from the footsteps, he could tell it wasn't an innocent projection trying to find their way out. He was being chased.

"Today we test you in the maze."

For the first time, Arthur caught on to what that was supposed to mean. He bit back another curse and grabbed hold of the railing, waiting as the man chasing him—dressed in a black suit and carrying a gun—came up another flight. Then, he launched himself over the side of the stairs and down to the level below, just behind his tail. The Penrose Steps, he thought to himself, and suddenly, the man in front of him was falling. With a satisfied nod, he made his way up the rest of the stairs.

It took a lot less time to reach the roof than he'd expected. He burst through the door, surprised to find rain falling lightly as he stepped out into the fresh air. He didn't waste any time barring the door though, fully aware that there were more people following him. It didn't take long after that for him to realize he was trapped. There was no way down.

He could always jump, he knew that. He'd hit the ground and wake up back in the house, unharmed, though perhaps a little shaken. But he got the feeling that wasn't what Cobb had intended. Speaking of Cobb, where the hell was he? Arthur pushed that thought to the back of his mind, racing over to the side of building and looking down. It seemed higher from here than it had before.

For a while he tried locating a fire escape, but no luck. There was no other door, either. Just a sheer, straight fall downwards. Frustrated, he rested his hands on the ledge and looked down at the projections walking in the alley hundreds of feet below. It wasn't that wide of a gap, he thought to himself, and, as he'd been told many times in the past two weeks, "You have to rethink possible." He grimaced at his own idea, but he couldn't think of another way out. Reminding himself that this was his dream, he imagined the building just twenty feet away slowly leaning in his direction, folding over like it was the Leaning Tower of Pisa. In hardly any time, the two roofs collided with a surprisingly small chuunk sound, and Arthur was able to scramble onto the roof of the opposite building. He could stand straight, despite the odd angle the building was precariously tilting in. A smile spread across his face.

The door to the maze building's stairs was finally pushed open and Arthur started to run as he heard gunshots from behind. He didn't bother to look over his shoulder, knowing that would slow him down. He was feet away from the ledge of the building where he could clearly see a fire escape. His hands met metal and he was about to throw himself over the side of the building and onto the scaffolding when he was flung forward so fast he didn't have time to catch himself. He was falling and from the pain in his spine, he could tell he'd just been shot.

XXX

Gasping for breath, he yanked the needle out of his arm, barely feeling the sting of it compared to the pain in his back which he could still feel. Cobb was sitting placidly beside him, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together and held in front of him. Arthur turned his back to the older man as, with fumbling hands, he pulled out the loaded red die from his pocket and tossed it on the floor. It rolled three times and stopped with six dots facing upwards. Slowly, he reached down and picked it up, pocketing it before Cobb could get a good view.

"That wasn't bad," the trainer said by way of a compliment. "You didn't use as many tricks as I would have liked, but—"

"What the hell was that?" Arthur demanded, rounding on the older man. His voice shook, but he managed to keep his tone level and his face composed. For the most part anyway.

"I warned you this wouldn't be easy—"

"You said nothing about being shot in the back," Arthur snapped, standing and heading for the bathroom. Despite the assurance of his totem, he needed to see that there was no bullet hole, no spread of blood along his back.

Cobb stood as well, watching as the young man strode away from him. "You'll get better at it. Then you won't need to get shot."

Arthur spun around to face his back to the mirror. No blood. No sign that he'd just been shot at all. He took a shuddering breath to calm himself.

"I wasn't even armed, Cobb," he called out to the trainer.

"You're not ready to handle a gun," came the calculated reply.

Trying very hard to contain himself, Arthur emerged from the bathroom, dropping his hands into his pockets to hide their shaking, as well as to grab hold of his totem which he pressed hard into the palm of his hand.

"What was the point of all that?" he demanded. "Was I really supposed to learn something from this?"

"Did you learn something from this?" Cobb shot back.

Arthur fell silent. He knew it wasn't a rhetorical question and, though his pride was wounded at the thought of contradicting himself, he knew it would be worse not to speak.

"I shouldn't let my concept of what's possible hinder me. If I'd acted quicker I could have gotten away."

"That's a good point," Cobb agreed. He stepped over to the briefcase and snapped it closed. "I think that's enough for this morning."

"That couldn't have been more than five minutes," Arthur argued, knowing that dream time as faster than reality.

"I know, but your first maze run always shakes you up," Cobb said determinedly. "I want you to rest up for the day and come back tonight. We'll try something a little less deadly."

Knowing he couldn't win this one, Arthur turned on his heel and snatched up his bag, throwing it across his shoulders. He didn't wait for anything else from Cobb, accidently slamming the door much harder behind him than he intended. His hands were still shaking. Unable to help himself, he stopped and crouched down on the sidewalk, casting his die again for good measure. It still landed with six dots up. This was undoubtedly reality. His shoulders slumped forward and for a moment, he stayed there, unable to move himself. The pain in his back was still dying away. It had been so real. He wasn't sure he would be able to take the rest of this day in stride now. Finally, he straightened and, trying his best to walk upright and unaffected, he headed straight for the park. He'd skip classes today; he needed a chance to calm himself down before he went back there again that night.