AN: Here's my chapter. ^.^ Hope you like it! Thanks for all the reviews, too, they made my week.

Eames POV

"One more thing," I said, grabbing Cobb's arm and pulling him to a halt. "You can't die—number one priority. If you do, this reality will collapse and Arthur and I will be lost in Limbo and won't wake up when the timer runs out. It's a no-no, got it?" Cobb nodded and started forward once more, but I wasn't done. I yanked him back once more and ignored his pissy face. "And," I continued pointedly, "If you shoot me or Arthur, bad things could happen. There's a .5% chance we'll wake up, but it's more likely we'd get stuck on some other dimension of this bloody endless place, and that's even worse than just this section of Limbo collapsing, so rule number two: do not shoot me unless you're sure it's a projection. That goes for Arthur, too. We clear?" Cobb nodded, still looking annoyed with me but seeming to understand my point. "Good!" I released him with a brilliant smile. "Then let's go rescue our little stick-in-the-mud, shall we?" I held on to my faux cheer and set off briskly toward the setting of my darkest, rarest nightmares.

We forced open the heavy, impenetrable metal door and stepped into a dark building. They had seen us coming, then. Damn.

"Welcome to Hell," Cobb murmured from beside me.

"What the hell did you go saying that for?" I demanded, shivers going up my spine. He didn't respond, but I could feel his smugness from beside me: he'd gotten his revenge. Fine, then. Better now than later.

There were three paths that broke off to meander through the base: one directly in front of us and additional ones curving to each side. They wound through each other like snakes further in, but we had the labyrinth memorized.

"Forward and split?" I suggested into the darkness. Cob would probably have agreed, but the lights flashed on in a surge. I was blinded for a few moments. I hated being defenseless. I hated even more that when my vision returned, I saw…me.

Not-me had dragged Arthur along with him. The man was bloodied, more or less torn apart, his muscles undergoing spasms from pain. I couldn't bring myself to watch him for too long; I hadn't seen him look like that for years and it was a sight I had never wanted to see again. I watched from the corner of my eye as Cobb tensed. "Hello Cobb," he greeted. "Eames." There's a small hesitation when he said my name, a mocking edge as he drew out each syllable almost imperceptibly. I wanted to punch him so, so much, and Cobb shifted a little in anticipation to my anger so he could hold me back if I lost my head. I shot him a glare, but I couldn't blame him. "You'll be wanting my newest toy back, then?" he asked, jostling Arthur a little in his hold. I bit my lip but simply nodded. He laughed, but I'd seen that coming. "Come and get him, then." He stepped back and around the corner, flipping the switch I remembered was there. A thick, solid metal door lowered down from the ceiling, barring the central tunnel. Its purpose was to split up anyone who might try to invade the base; the separate tunnels were smaller and easier to trap. Splitting up any people that tried to get past our defenses made it easier for us to take them out. Our own trick had now been turned on us…and it was exactly what I would have done in not-me's place.

To top it all off the lights went out once more. I sighed, counted to ten, and mentally moved on.

"I'll go left, you take right?" I suggested, eyes scanning the darkness.

"Sure. Why left?" he asked curiously.

I was still scanning the darkness, and also pulling up my mental map of the place so I could walk around in the darkness without crashing headfirst into walls. 'Cause that would just be brilliant. "It's my lucky number," I told him.

"Left isn't a number, Eames," he told me in that exasperated tone he frequently used when he thought I wasn't taking a job seriously enough.

"Of course it isn't," I agreed, still only giving him half of my attention. "But if it was a number, I'd be a millionaire."

"You are a millionaire, Eames." He sighed, and I could tell he wished he hadn't asked.

"I'd be a millionaire from gambling," I elaborated with a grin.

"So, you always pick left, then?"

"Yup," I agreed.

"Let's hope my subconscious hadn't noticed that, then." My blood froze, but Cobb just set off to the right without another word. Apparently, he wasn't altruistic enough to walk into traps meant for me.

With a sigh, I set off to the left, my feet falling into the familiar steps with ease. The paths I'd walked every day were just muscle memory now, it seemed. Nothing about this place should have been familiar, not after years of repression, but the memory was a funny thing.

As I walked, I tried to anticipate what kind of traps I would have left for myself. This was impossible; there were so many traps he could make, especially in this place. Avoiding every potential threat would make me paranoid, so I just closed my eyes and tried to pretend everything was fine.
How stupid of me: everything was always worse with your eyes closed. It did make the room feel more spacious, though, and I began to breathe easier. Something about open spaces just always made me feel more relaxed.

Of course, I eventually opened my eyes, because I didn't like the idea of walking into traps.

The lights were still on in the deeper corridors, past the paths that led to the barracks and inward toward the torture chambers. I found myself walking quickly, hoping I'd run into Cobb and he'd have Arthur with him and all would be well. I didn't want to have to go through all of these rooms. Being near them was already taking its toll on my sanity.

That did mean, however, that by the time sounds reached my ears, I was too far down the current corridor to stop. Not that I was supposed to. I pulled out my gun and kept walking, rounding the corner to see… Arthur.

He was slumped over in the corridor, bloody and torn to bits. His head lolled a bit to one side, but he dragged it up to meet my gaze. "Eames?" It was a bit slurred but distinct nonetheless.

I crossed quickly to his side and knelt down next to him, nodding. I lowered my gun to my side but didn't let it go, not yet. I ran my hand through his sweat soaked hair, brushing it back gently. "I need to ask you a question," I told him, wary of a trap. I didn't think any version of me could hurt Arthur like this, but projections could turn vicious. "What was the first thing you ever said to me?" It was a good question, too; contrary to Cobb's belief, Arthur and Eames had met before they all got mixed up in the army. The day before, in fact.

"Hello?"

Eames grimaced. "No. Wrong answer, love." He pulled up the gun and weighted it in his hand. He didn't know if he could do it. It was Arthur….

Arthur caught on to my plan. "No! No! Eames! I just forgot! Ask me something else!"

I frowned and shook my head. "I'm sorry, darling." He was growing panicked, his eyes wide and hurt and so very Arthur, so I closed mine to keep from giving in.

"Eames!" Arthur's terrified voice cut me to my core. "Eames, don't do this!" he pleaded frantically. "I'm me! I'm me, Eames!" A tear escaped from my closed eyes, but I opened them and forced myself to meet his panic-stricken gaze.

"I'm so sorry love," I said, another tear escaping, "but I don't believe you." I was in agony; I knew I had to shoot him, but it was terrifying to think of losing him. Always one to follow my impulses, I got caught up in the heightened emotions of the moment. I leaned forward and kissed him—something I now realized I'd wanted to do for bloody ages, but hadn't consciously admitted to myself. I tasted blood, sweat, and tears on his lips, and it was simultaneously the most beautiful and terrible thing that I'd ever done; he kissed me back desperately and I was once again sure this wasn't my Arthur, because Arthur would never kiss back from fear or desperation, but he would give a kiss for a distraction.

I couldn't let myself be distracted any longer. With a deep sigh I pulled away, my resolve strengthened. I took a deep breath, aimed, and fired. I really, really hoped I was right to break my own rules.

I started delving into rooms as I walked down the corridors now; if I was going to find Arthur, I wouldn't just stumble across him, I'd already decided on that. If I was going to find him it would be in a little room hidden away somewhere. If I didn't find him… well, I wasn't going to consider that. It really just wasn't an option.

Five rooms of torture, most unfamiliar to me—hence, why I'd picked them first—and he wasn't in any of them. I only had a few to go and had yet to run across Cobb. The compound was eerily quiet around me, only the slight hum of electricity surrounding me. It was like this building was humming with life; I didn't want this place to be alive. If I could, I would blow it to bits and watch with immense satisfaction as it burned. My lips turned up a bit of a grin, because that mental picture was quite nice. Maybe I'd beg Cobb to let us do it when we all got out of this okay. We would all be okay.

I pushed open another door and tried not to hold my breath, but it all came out in a rush. Arthur was there, strung up and hanging. He looked even worse than the projection-Arthur had. He wasn't just bloody and torn up; his skin hung off in shreds and he was covered in dried blood everywhere that he wasn't bleeding. His muscles twitched randomly, but in general seemed to be too tired to even do that anymore. He looked awful, on the edge of death.

"Arthur…"

His eyes slowly dragged up to meet mine, and the hope in them was paired off with wariness. "Eames?" But then he passed out, something he was probably thankful for, but that wasn't great on whole for me. I had to find something to fix him with, fast, or this rescue mission would be pointless. He'd be dead anyway.

I heard running footsteps behind me and Cobb burst through the door. He was a bit roughed up and disheveled, but in one piece, so I wasn't too worried for him as of now. I ignored him as he took in the situation and instead gently unhooked Arthur and lowered him to the ground, trying to find an unbroken place on him so that I wouldn't accidentally hurt him. It was impossible, but I tried. Before long Cobb appeared next to my shoulder, a needle in hand. He injected that horrifying substance that fixed us all up in the worst way possible. Arthur's bones began to snap back into place, his skin knitted itself back together, and the blood stopped gushing out. Eventually he was just a mess of fading bruises and dried blood: still horrifying but a lot less frightening overall.

He was going to be okay. I grinned in relief and turned to Cobb. "So… got any TNT on you, by any chance?"

"What?" he asked, staring at me in mild confusion.

I grinned. "I wanna see this place go up in flames!" The look on Cobb's face was priceless. Almost worth Hell. Almost.

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