Hi! I normally update way more consistently than this but these last few weeks of work are killing me! I'll have time to focus more on this soon though. Anyway thanks to you guys who inspired me to update: KT: Aw,, thank you so much! Musicismyheroine: Oops, sorry to scare you. And I know their methods of revenge/avenge are pretty severe. And we've only scraped the surface of it. Lauraa-x: Interesting speculation on John Moores/Ken Doll but he's actually just normal guy. Remember Arthur contacted him and offered him the job. He wasn't sent out and he didn't necessarily seek it. The Hoods have eyes on John as well but he has no connection to Ari so he's not a big deal for them, he's more in the way.

Trigger warning for rape. Its not graphic but the allusion is there. Just warning to be safe.

Chapter 7: Do NOT watch.

Beeping. This is what woke Ariadne from her slumber. Her eyes pried open in time with the sound of the door sliding open to see a blurry figure in Black. "Hello?" The door sealed shut automatically behind the Black hood and Ariadne fought furiously to wake herself up and take defense. "Who's there?"

"Just me." The hood fell away from his face and revealed Wolffe smiling toothily at her. Uncomfortably, Ariadne sat up and pulled the sheets closer to her face; the way he was eyeing her made her feel naked. "Do you need something?"

He pursed his lips, "Nah," he moseyed to her bedside and sat on the edge. Out of instinct, Ariadne brought her knees to her chest. "Just wanted to check on you…you haven't been very social with me lately."

This comment made her angry. How was she supposed to act? Why would she be all gung ho and friendly with the people who'd blackmailed her out of her life? Did they think she would be giddy to live down here for who knows how long? There was most definitely a reason she'd isolated herself in the week she'd unwillingly but willingly stayed here. Unable to control her temper she sneered, "Gee. I wonder why?"

A chuckle was all the response he would give her before they fell silent. She waited for the moment he would feel bemused enough to leave her alone but it didn't come. His low rumble did, "I'm sorry. But you can't blame me for not wanting you to leave me, can you?" Afraid that anything she said might be taken the wrong way, Ariadne refrained from speech. "I know living underground seems dull and you miss your Point Man but I promise you'll never be lonely," Wolffe trailed his finger from her foot to her knee, "I won't let you be."

The hairs on Ariadne's arms and neck stood at attention. She didn't like the way he'd said that…with a raspy voice and labored breath. Quickly and without hesitation, she was out of the bed, on her feet and across the room. "I'm not lonely. I'm tired." She wrapped her arms around her middle, feeling like she had to cover what was already covered while under his speculation. "This is the first opportunity in a month I've gotten to sleep as much as I want—so if you could go…"

Gradually, Wolffe made his way around her bed. Matching every backwards step of hers with a step forward himself, he cornered her like jungle cat and its prey. "Come on, Baby—"

"Don't call me that." Ariadne spat, attempting to throw away the terror building inside of her with her words. She felt his hands press her hips into the wall before his lips were on hers greedily. The girl shoved him off, "What are you doing?!" His hand cupped something it shouldn't have and he hummed with a simper, "You."

WHACK. Her hand met his face hard and unforgiving, already leaving a print. When his hands held the side of his face she took advantage to duck around him and bolt for the door. Reaching the keypad, she scrabbled to press her personal code so the door would release her. * * *- A thick card was held in front of the scanner by a bulky muscled hand from over her shoulder. Immediately, the light flashed red and the sound of a lock clicked. Eyes wide, she reached for the key pad and punched in her code * * * *. Wolffe let her because no matter how many times she entered it, he could satisfactorily watch the light blink red back at her.

Frozen. A sinking feeling, deep in the pit of her stomach, screamed when she realized there was no getting out of what was about to happen. Ariadne bit her lip and started to tear up when his arms, again, snaked around her waist and his lips sucked on her neck like he was a mosquito drawing blood, "Come on, Red. You can't deny that this has been building between us..." Her body twisted to rid itself of him, adrenaline and panic shooting through her bloodstream to her fingertips. "Stop." It wasn't working-her voice wasn't resonating. She tried to firmly demand and all her vocal chords could summon up was a croak. Ariadne tried again, the concern reaching new heights as he moved in front of her and pushed her towards the bed with his hand under her shirt, "Stop!" Backwards, she tripped, slapping at his chest and trying to pull his arm from under her garment. All she succeeded in doing was falling back onto the bed. As soon as she felt the squishy material beneath her she scrambled to the wall at the head of the bed in attempts to get away from his grabby limbs and devouring eyes. "Get away from me!"

Laughing quietly, he crept close enough to grab her ankles and drag her down to him. Wolffe's eyes shone as they raked over her form. They sized her up like she was a dinner plate. And he appeared to be starving. Ariadne fell into an anxiety attack; her legs became restless. She kicked and flailed and yelled for him to get off, her hands scratching and slapping at his face and his chest. "Leave me alone! Help! David! Someone! HELP!" screeched the Architect, the tears building. Her chest ached from the panic that battered her insides. Wolffe was too quick and large in stature for her. It was effortless on his part to pin her legs with his knees and hold her wrists above her head with one hand. The other he used to muzzle her mouth. Her body coiled and pulled away from him when his mouth captured her ear, "Be still, pretty girl." The reality of the situation became all too overwhelming; Ariadne started bawling. "Be quiet for me or I'll only love you more," His voice threatened.

Ariadne Bourgeois had been embarrassed. She'd been hopeless, helpless, heartbroken. She'd been scared to death, nervous and anxious as hell. She'd been depressed. She'd been lost. She'd been alone and broken. But never in her life had she been powerless. For as long as she could remember, she had a strong belief that you controlled what happened to you. One person had the power to change anything. That with enough determination, courage, skill and ambition, you could fight whatever came your way. In that moment, her belief came crumbling down. Because no matter how determined she was to refuse him, no matter how much courage it took to look him in the eyes and fight back, no matter how nimble she could be—there was no way on earth she was physically strong enough to push him off of her. It was going to happen. She would not escape. He would not give up. She was everything she'd ever been—strongwilled, hardheaded, fiery, independent, brilliant—and still only powerless. In effort to muster enough bravery to get through it, Ariadne's thoughts drifted back to a conversation before her first solo job.

She'd gone to bed unusually early at nine and had only tossed and turned and fidgeted since. The hump next to her rolled over and sighed, "Ariadne…"

"Sorry." She stilled and stared at the ceiling.

"Oh I'll be fine," Arthur snickered, "I'm used to getting up early. It's you I'm worried about. Your plane leaves at 5:15 which means I need to get you there no later than 4 which means we have to get up—"

The Architect whined,"Eaaarly…I know," and then rolled to face him, "I can't help it…I'm just so—"

"Excited?" The Point smirked down at her and sat up against the headboard.

She nodded, "Mostly," then sat up on her elbow, "and then kind of—scared shitless."

Arthur mocked her through a raise of his eyebrows, "You. Scared? I don't buy that for a second, Bourgeois. Maybe nervous but never scared."

"I was fine until tonight. And now that it's here…I'm overthinking it and freaking myself out…I've never been on a job without you or Eames before."

"You don't need us."

"Well what if this Ingams guy is a shit Extractor? And he fails…and the job completely goes South and we end up with Asian bounty hunters on our tails?" She heard Arthur hiccup a laugh but continued, "Or what if I get stuck with a lazy ass Point who doesn't research anything properly and causes me to mess up the designs like that Nash guy? Then I'll be dodging ninjas all by myself in Osaka. Aren't they like insane with the torture in Asia? Like pulling off people's fingers and crap?"

Arthur smiled and shook his head at her over dramatization of what could happen, "You are going to be fine. You'll have a great team," at this point Ariadne scooted over to wrap her arms around his torso and lay her head on his chest, "things will go smoothly and you'll come home chirping in my ear about finding another one."

"I hope you're right."

"When am I wrong?"

Her hand slapped his chest playfully, "You're so conceited." They laughed together and his hand drew lines up and down her shoulder to soothe her into much needed sleep. And it had almost worked. Ariadne was drifting off when he spoke with too much focus and urgency for her not to listen. "But if something does happen…if something ever happens there are three things I need you to remember."

She nodded and told him to name them, "One: Never return to your point of origin. Are you awake enough to comprehend this?" he paused to make sure she was really listening so she could grasp the concepts fully. Her chin came to rest on his chest sluggishly and she met his eyes with expectant ones. He continued, "The hotel you stay at, the warehouse or wherever you worked—if the job goes bad never go back to those places. No matter what you've left there. You hop on a plane or train or whatever leaves fastest and get the hell out of there." Ariadne ok'ed and nodded her head.

"Two: If they catch you…never let them see the fear. Whatever they do to you close your eyes and count backwards from a hundred until It's over. Do not watch, seeing it will only increase the reality of it and scare you more. Alright?" She hummed yes.

"Three is the most important…know that no matter where they hide you, I will always find you." Arthur gently tucked her hair behind her ear, "No matter what they do, I will bring you home and fix you. No matter what they say, remember that I love you with my whole heart and soul. And I promise you that I'll introduce every person that harms you to their grave."

Quicker than flies, Wolffe's hands and lips were everywhere and all over. As it began to happen, Ariadne's eyes shut tight and through her tears counted in her head, "One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven…" She struggled to focus on the numbers and not the noises Wolffe was emitting. Not the immense pain. Arthur had never been so rough; he had always been cognizant and worried over if he was hurting her. Arthur treated her like a goddess, everything revolved around her. Wolffe was using her body as an object. Then again they were incomparable. Arthur made love, he never raped her.

It wasn't over soon enough. He left Ariadne shivering in bed, eyes still shut, still counting down from nine. "I can see it's going to be fun to break your spirit." When her eyes finally opened and after her totem had cruelly fallen true, she laid there and stared at the ceiling for an hour, crying and crying. She felt too exposed now in her ripped t-shirt and nothing on the bottom. Shakily but numb from shock, Ariadne tiptoed to the bathroom and pulled out a long sleeve shirt (the boxiest), sweatpants, socks even. She still felt undressed even when covered head to toe in baggy garments. The stench of her soiled sheets made her nauseous and that was before she noticed the blood; she threw up several times before she could bring herself to take them off and lay towels out. The Architect felt more than violated, more than repulsed, more than abused yet at the same time nothing. Felt empty. Like she didn't belong to herself anymore. Every sound caused her to jump—she feared more than anything that he would come back. The hours passed were uncountable while she rocked back and forth, curled up under the covers—never covered enough-, her eyes raw and dry for she'd emptied all the tears her body had to offer. She strained to soothe herself on Arthur's words. Arthur would kill this monster for what he'd just done.

And what he would do.
xxxxxx

The next day left Ariadne in the shivering cold. She awoke, sick to her stomach again and scarcely made it to her adjoined facilities before relieving it. She'd checked her totem again three or four times and still couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't awake. She stared around the room, even touched the minimal furniture and none of it computed. She was looking but not seeing, touching but not feeling, breathing but not alive. Every movement was robotic. Ariadne: head in the clouds, full of ideas and colors and musings…now her head was empty save for forced instructions. Move Ariadne. Ariadne, change clothes. Pull the hood over your eyes. Eat, Ariadne. I'm not hungry…I feel sick… Right hand open the door. Walk Ariadne: right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot, turn the corner. You're fine. You're fine. Get a tray. Any tray…is he here!? Someone's watching. Where is he? Is he watching? Breathe in, Ariadne. Breathe out, Ariadne. In. Now, out. Look down. Don't look. Don't ever look, remember? Sit. Pick up the fork. Pick it up. Right hand, pick it up. I'm not hungry…I feel sick. Ariadne, eat. You're fine.

A figure brushed her shoulder as it slid in next to her and a tray like her own dropped on the table across, the figure that owned it plopped down as well. Don't look. Don't ever look. Tense. "Hey you, lovely day for doing the same thing we always do, huh?"

Rusty. Muscles relax. Tense. Relax them, Ariadne. Tense. You know her. You're fine. You're fine. Relax. Relax Ariadne. Ariadne, relax your muscles. More, breathe. Tense. Who's across? Don't look. Don't ever— "Earth to Ariadne?" Her eyes but not head raised and peered under the edge of her hood. Just Grant. Relax. "Red?" RESPOND.

"H-hey." The Architect croaked and picked up her fork hesitantly. She did her best to feign normalcy. Because after all she was fine. Right?

Rusty twisted her head in front of Ariadne's and chortled, "Is brooding alone in your box and cutting yourself off from everyone but us finally making you mental?"

Ariadne swallowed hard and wrestled with her uncooperative tongue and useless vocal chords to produce an answer. They would never understand what a task it was for her to reply, "N-no. I like…I like being alone." Her hair fell out of her hood and hung in front of her. Bite the slice of apple, Ariadne. Chew it. Swallow. I'm going to throw up…swallow. Breathe. Relax. Finish the slice. "Well, you're just going to have to deal with us because we enjoy your company." Ariadne could hear the smile in Rusty's voice…a comment she would normally feel the urge to laugh at. She didn't feel the urge to do anything at all, though. Ariadne didn't feel. Grant hadn't said anything. Her gaze ventured up but couldn't help zoning in on his mouth. Squinting, she stared as he devoured his oatmeal and eggs. He shoved a spoonful into his mouth: Slurp. Smack. Slurp. Smack. Gulp…The sounds made Ariadne's stomach churn. His mouth was everywhere. His mouth was everywhere.

Her eyes shut. She sprung from her seat, knocked the tray of fruit over in her haste and tripped on her way rushing out of there. Somewhere quiet. Find somewhere quiet. Breathe Ariadne. Relax Ariadne. WALK FASTER ARIADNE. The small form of the Architect stumbled into the old workroom, pinching the bridge of her nose. Desks now empty, file cabinets open and stripped. She retched into a trash can for the third time that morning and was dry heaving when the door creaked open. "Feeling sick, baby?" His voice.

Instantaneously, her chest tightened. As did her fists around the trash bin. Her body shot up and she backed away as he swayed and sauntered closer. Ariadne clutched the golden chess piece in her pocket as a result of a déjà vu—a domino effect caused by his body pressing hers into the wall. "Get—"Her fight or flight responses were kicking in and she'd be damned if he did this to her again. Her tiny fists struck his chest, "Get off!" Too immediate were his reflexes for her to foresee—he seized her wrists and pulled her forward only to jam her into the wall behind her. It wasn't brutal enough for a concussion but she did groan throatily and attempt to cradle her head as her legs gave way to the pain and she slid halfway the floor. Wolffe, slung her around by her forearms and pinned her to her previous drawing desk. Still jarred from her collision with the wall, her head lolled, but don't think she didn't blink furiously to see him properly and wriggle to get away in her state of discomfort. "Let me go."

"You know the symbolism isn't lost on me…" He tittered with too much delight not to seem maniacal.

She tried to sneer and knee him in the crotch, "What symboli—" They were too close for her knee him with enough force for it to hurt. The decision was promptly regretted when his hand instead caught the back of her knee and ran up her thigh. Taking hold of the opportunity of a free wrist, her hand flew through the air to slap him. He only leered back—a facial expression that intimidated her more than a scowl would. "Little Red and the big bad Wolffe?" Once more she balled her fist and cast it through the air just for it to be grabbed…and just for him to lean in. Ariadne swore she saw an animal instead of a human being in that moment. She saw it licking its chops, picking her flesh off with its eyes…felt its claws dig into her skin. It growled, with sharp teeth bared, saliva dripping from its chin, "My, my, my…What full lips you have." Its orifice descended on her…eating her alive she presumed. Sloppy and soggy. Her eyes fastened closed: 100, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92- It tore through her bottom lip and when it let her go, she tasted metal. "The better to kiss me with."

Somewhere inside her, she found the grit to suck the collecting blood from her lip and spit in his face, "Don't touch me ever again."

"Give it time, Red. You'll realize you love this." With one last open mouthed smooch that she pummeled his chest during, he left her to herself.

Xxxxxx

As relieving and tempting as segregating herself from the rest of the following was…no longer could Ariadne be unaccompanied because that was when she was most vulnerable. Alone in her box, alone in the workroom, alone in the tunnels, all places Wolffe could get her alone. The wooden desk was a coolant to her throbbing head; she rolled over to press her forehead into it. Evidently, Wolffe had got it into his head that he could do whatever he wanted to her just because he wanted to. She would make it impossibly difficult for him to do so…

"Rusty…" The Chemist had volunteered to be part of normal rotation in the time between dream jobs. Today, she was charged with Con Dig duty. She supervised the cells of P.O.W.s and let personnel in to "teach" them their daily lesson. Lessons varied from what the Hoods categorized as Decision Making, Consequence and Humility: sessions designed to bring the error of one's ways to the forefront of their mind and give them a chance to change their stance on an issue, to give them punishment for an answer that did not coincide with Hood beliefs and then to break their pride. This grungy tunnel full of fowl smells and incoherent moaning was where Ariadne found dutiful Mila.

"Are you my relief?"

Ariadne received an, "Of course not…" when she declined with a shake of her head. Upon their second descent, Ariadne refused to be put on rotation. She wanted to remain in the Dream Division exclusively and have nothing to do with everyday Hood responsibilities…that was made clear. "Well I doubt you were curious about the goings on in the Dig…" Rusty rolled her eyes, ignoring that the hall was too dimly lit for the Architect to see, "so what do you need?"

"Could I bunk with you tonight?"

"Why? You have your own box."

Not exactly the welcoming response Ariadne prayed for. The reason—well actually she couldn't find a reason other than the truth that she wasn't ready to reveal to anyone…she stuttered, "Yeah—but—look I'll sleep on your floor. Please? It's-terrifying trying to sleep when-"

Rusty removed her Hood and looked Ariadne in the eyes. Unimpressed. Judgmental. "When….? What, are you having nightmares? Like a little kid?"

"You could say that. And there's no one there to wake me up from it."

Rusty's head shot to the side when she heard a groan and some coughs from a prisoner down the hall. "AGH, let me out! Bastards…to hell with you all." She replied to Ariadne with her eyes preoccupied and the back of her head facing the Architect, "Dreamshare does tend to make nightmares more vivid." And then pressed her earpiece, "We've got a P.O.W instigating something." Rusty shrugged and addressed her again, "Yeah. I guess this once would be alright. I'll see if I can't have Wolffe find some sedatives to keep you down at night…"

Just then some Browns' footsteps came down the hallway and passed them on their way to the prisoner. She felt Wolffe before she saw him. His fingers trailed across her back as he passed her, and the black hole his Hood created where his face should be looked back as he followed. Ariadne shivered and quickly rejected, "No. Don't say anything to him about it. Especially about the sedatives." He doesn't need any ideas.

Xxxxxx

They weren't bothered that night. Ariadne had taken some towels and laid them on the ground, used some thick clothes as her pillow and her cloak as her blanket. The ground may have been hard and uncomfortable, the cold may have seeped through to her bones and she may have woken up with a sore back and crick in her neck but it was the most blissful sleep she'd had since she came back. Untouched, unburdened, dreamless sleep. The clothes used as a pillow were the ones worn that morning. It almost felt as if the previous night hadn't happened. Had it? Apart from another episode of emptying her stomach that morning, her appetite returned in full swing and made Ariadne crave what she'd been too disinterested in digesting the morning before. Eggs, fruit, oatmeal, venison sausages. After a hearty breakfast, she returned her things to their place in her box. Her bunk was made…nevermind that. She hauled her duffel on top of the mattress and started folding her clothes and putting them back in. She needed to rinse out a few things—those she threw in a pile on the floor. Then suddenly—

A movement in the corner of her room.

A shadow lifted off the wall and spoke at her, "And where were you all night?"

Ariadne steeled herself. Arthur said do not show fear, "Not here?"

"Let's get something straight, Red." The shadow emerged and knocked her duffel to the ground, spilled its contents and then dirtied them with the bottoms of his shoes, "You belong to me."

Her feet scrambled across the bed and into the bathroom. Unfortunately those did not have locks but she closed herself inside anyway and pushed against the door. "I most definitely do not belong to you just because you—you—forced yourself on me!"

The door busted off the hinges and the Architect was pulled by her hair against the wall again. "You screw someone else last night? Huh?" Wolffe was working to undress her as determinedly as she was struggling to hold her shirt down as he tugged it up, and hold her jeans up as he forcefully wrenched them down. "No!"

"You'll hold it back from me…" His strength yanked them so vehemently her feet were pulled from under her and she fell to the ground, still pressing her sweater to her upper body to keep covered. "But you'll give yourself to whatever Hood asks won't you?"

"I was in Mila's box!" beseeched Ariadne, blurting out whatever defense could slow his anger and prevent the attack. As the Hood in black balled up her jeans and tossed them into the bathroom, Ariadne clambered to her knees and crawled to the door.

"Who was it?!" She watched the floor float away from her as his arms crushed her waist and lifted her from it. Her short legs jerked and her hands slapped his arms, "Was it Mac? Tell me, Red!"

Ariadne screeched, frustrated, "NO! Let go!"

Wolffe ignored and pulled her sweater over her head, "Was it David?" Her sweater flew across the box, her arms outreached for it like it could come to life and save her. "Grant?" With her hands on his throat and the side of his head, she pushed at it him while his nose buried into her crook of her neck and she felt his lips at work, "Was it good?"

"All I did was sleep!" Her voice was breaking…it couldn't be happening again. It wasn't happening again. The sides of his head took a clobbering of knuckles but Wolffe's figure was too capable of overpowering her.

"I'll teach you to sleep around…" snarled the beast. Her heightened sense of awareness made her ears pick up the rustling of his clothes. The zipping (or unzipping rather…). Ariadne implored, she begged, she contorted her body in any way she could to get away from him, "No! Stop! I didn't do anything!" But it only served to egg him on.

Ariadne once again left the floor, her back rammed into the wall of her box and she cried out in excruciating agony. Eyes closed: 100, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93…

When he finished, she slumped to the ground, unable to stand, unable to move. 78, 77, 76—Naturally, her body curled into the fetal position and her arms went to cover her head and her chest. "I'm having your keypad activity wired to my room. I'll know if you're sleeping in someone else's box from now on." His hood draped over his eyes and he faded into the shadows as deftly as he appeared from them. Ariadne pulled herself along the floor to her duffel and erratically combed through it for something to cover up in. Another pair of jeans was the first thing she pulled on and she struggled to get in to them (each shift of her legs sent shooting pain from the waist down.) Back on her knees she dove her hand in and drew out- red and white pinstripes. Wrapped up in Arthur's shirt, she strived to recall a time when a man could be amiable and tender.
xxxxxx

….I know…good news is: One more chapter and then we get some Arthur and team. Our interaction this chapter was a flashback but still nice…right? Aha. Ariadne would appreciate it if you dropped a line or two…it might help her feel better. Lol. Who can guess what Arthur's reaction to this will be? Or what do YOU WANT his reaction to be? What about Eames and Cobb? Should Ariadne attempt to seek help from her few Hood friends?

P.S. I know its hard/boring sometimes to read something when your ship isn't the main focus for a while or there is little interaction but if you guys remember Follow The Red, I went several chapters where they were separated at first too. Hang in there with me. We've got a character arc to work on for a bit. But I'll find a way to shippy it up.