Chapter Ten: A Thread Too Slender
Everything you can imagine is real.
- Pablo Picasso
She wakes up. She wakes up. She wakes up.
Water is rushing into her lungs. She stops breathing and struggles to loosen the seat belt trapping her into the van. Hands reach out and help to unsnap the buckle. And then they're passing an oxygen mask over her mouth; she sucks in the air greedily. She gives Arthur a squeeze on the arm and nods. He returns the gesture before moving to check on Saito and Cobb. She sees Fischer nearly at the surface of the river, with Eames trailing behind him, the disguise of Browning in place.
Yusuf pulls a third oxygen tank from underneath the front passenger seat and passes it to Ariadne. She maneuvers next to Saito, and slips the mask over his face, turning the air on. Bubbles leak out from the side. Then she turns to Cobb; Arthur is checking his pulse. She grabs his arm and he drops back, allowing her to move the oxygen mask from his face to Cobb's. There are barely any bubbles escaping as the sleeping man breathes in the proffered air. They watch him for a few seconds; Arthur's eyes are full of questions but he doesn't spare a look back when Ariadne points her finger up. They move to the front side where Yusuf is with the last air tank. Each of them share equal sips of air as they slowly climb out of the van and swim their way back to the surface. Arthur hands them ski masks to don over their heads before breaking out of the water, in case Eames is unsuccessful in convincing Fischer to flee from the scene. However, there's no one watching them. Ariadne gasps and rips the heavy fabric away from her face. They paddle to the closest point of shore. Arthur reaches land first; he helps Yusuf and Ariadne stagger onto it. Then all three of them collapse against the pebbly bank, their lungs working hard and limbs weak.
"Is everyone alright?" They nod at Arthur's question. "How much longer before the somnacin wears off?"
Yusuf checks his watch. "An hour or two here. Maybe less."
Ariadne wants to groan but she doesn't have the energy. Instead, she takes a deep breath and focuses on the next steps of the plan. "Ok, where are we in relation to the car?"
Yusuf fishes out another set of keys from his pocket. "I don't think we're too far away."
After they imagine themselves from clammy cold to dry, Yusuf walks off, looking left and right. Arthur and Ariadne stay behind, keeping out of sight, and after a few minutes they head towards the agreed rendezvous point. He turns to her without preamble. "What happened?"
"Cobb stayed." His eyebrows lift.
"With Mal?"
"No. To find Saito."
He shakes his head. "I should have been down there with you and Cobb. I knew it was a bad idea to make me the dreamer in the second level."
She puts her hand on his shoulder. "It worked. We got Fischer out. Cobb's looking for Saito now."
He is staring at the currents in the river. His hands are gripping one another. "Do you think they'll make it out?"
Cobb's face in those last seconds flash in her memory. Mal, on the floor and the smell of gunpowder; there is a curtain hanging between all of them - filled with guilt, fear, shame and secrets. Always secrets. Ariadne meets Arthur's eyes - she wonders if her own remind him of Cobb's now. He looks back at her, and he's not doing anything out of the ordinary but the door that was ajar is suddenly wide open and relief is pouring out of her. "Arthur, I have something to tell you." And as they make their way to Yusuf who is waiting for them in an unmarked sedan, she finally tells him everything - she doesn't leave anything out. And he walks with her, stands with her, sits with her, nodding and listening and not interrupting. They arrive at their final destination - the marina - where they board a frigate and sail off, waiting for the time to wind down. She finally stops talking and waits for his response.
Arthur is sitting back, eyes closed and face turned upwards. They are on deck; Yusuf is manning the steering wheel. They pass a few other boats with projections who ignore them completely. The storm has finally cleared and though the winds are still a little rough, there is sunlight and beneath the dissipating clouds, the sky is a gentle blue.
"You know, technically speaking, I was the one who sent for you, not Cobb." He cracks one eye open at her.
She doesn't know where's he going with this, but she knows enough not to ask if he had been listening to her. "How so?"
"When Cobb told me he was going to Paris, to look for a new architect - I knew who he would visit. Who he always goes to see if he's in the area. Miles. So I called him and told him what we were up to."
She blinks. "You know Professor Laraby?"
He continues. "He didn't tell me what resulted from Cobb's visit. But, the first day you showed up, I knew."
"Knew what?"
"That Miles had finally found the right person. That one way or the other, this was going to be our last job together."
What did he mean by that? But there's another question pressing her right now. "Who else did Miles send?"
He points to himself in a self deprecating manner. Of course. She should have figured that out from the get-go. "Most everyone involved in this business - legal or not - knows him." Both eyes are open now. "What?"
She is smiling. "It's not about the money."
"Nor is it about pure creation." His face mirrors her own.
Yusuf chimes, "But those are nice perks, eh?" He sets the steering wheel on auto pilot and joins them on the deck.
"It's time?" Ariadne almost feels sad as she says this.
He nods. "Mates, it's been unreal. See you on the other side!", Yusuf says and then leaps into the water. He makes a large and loud splash.
"He'll be lost", Arthur says, staring at some unknown point.
On a whim, she holds out her hand to him. He looks down at it. "No. He'll be alright." He takes it. Grips it tight. Tangles his fingers in hers. Into the cold and wet they plunge; she turns her head towards him to let out an exuberant shout -
She wakes up.
The pilot is speaking over the public announcement system about landing in twenty minutes. The PASIV has been stowed away and the only sound in the cabin is the push of circulating air. Fischer is staring out the window. Ariadne swivels her chair - Cobb's eyes are closed. He looks peaceful; the description makes her wince. When she glimpses at Arthur, he is grave, apprehensive, facing her side of the cabin but his eyes are trained at the chair where Saito is sitting in. It's obvious from Arthur's face that the other man has not woken up yet. When his eyes pass her, he gives her a polite smile. She returns it; hers is quizzical.
A flight attendant blocks her vision of Cobb. "Hot towel, sir?"
Ariadne's hands tighten on the arm rests. Then the attendant is turning to her, asking the same question. She looks at the neatly stacked pile of white towels. Was there one extra before? She shakes her head and cranes her neck as the woman moves away.
She shares a moment with him across the aisle in which an understanding is reached when a decade-long friendship would not have been able to accomplish. Cobb, all his layers gone. The tension in her fingers suddenly pop free. She hears movement - and the distinctive click of a telephone being picked up. Saito, speaking quietly into it.
The phone in front of her seat is flashing. She turns. Behind, in the last seat of the cabin, she sees Eames' eyes peeking above the top of the seat in front of him. He's got a phone pressed to one side of his head. She turns to face the front again and answers the call. "Hello?"
"I know what you're up to, you know." He speaks softly, like a lover.
"What are you talking about?"
"You're a do-gooder. You may have charmed everyone else on this team, but it's not going to work on me. Not one bit, do you understand?"
She rolls her eyes. "I would hardly say that's been the case."
"Want to share a cab when we land? I've got an interesting project I want to talk to you about."
She giggles and then hangs up on him. She suppresses full out laughter when she hears his rather loud and disgruntled, "How rude."
When they disembark, her legs feel like jelly from not having moved. Fischer steps off the plane first, allowing the team to linger and share a moment of quiet triumph. There's nothing more. She trails behind Yusuf and Arthur, while Saito walks with Cobb. She wonders what it took to bring him back; but then again, this is Cobb, bloody brilliant Cobb. They all hold their breaths collectively as he hands his passport to the Customs official, but he passes. He passes them all, and, the last glimpse Ariadne has of him is of his back as he hurries over to Miles.
"Arthur." He turns. He looks like any ordinary business man,with a laptop bag strapped over one shoulder and a garment bag gripped in the opposite hand. Something fierce rips inside of her. "Where are you going?"
"I've got a place to stay here." He looks slightly uncomfortable about the way she walks with him. Like it's against the rules or something.
"Relax. Fischer's long gone. I checked."
"You can never be too certain in this business, Ariadne."
They are outside. He is turning towards the taxi queue. He's going to slip away, just like that. The way it was planned, the way it was meant to be. Maybe she'd hear from him a year from now. Probably not. She doubts that they have reunions for this sort of thing. She thinks about letting him go, without a good bye.
Her hand is reaching out and grabbing his sleeve. "Stop. Just stop, Arthur." He does. He shifts so the garment bag is slung over his shoulder. Straightens. She notices the second he spares at her mouth. It is enough. "I'm certain."
"What?"
"You heard me." She jabs her finger into his chest. "And I know what you were up to before, in the hotel. The next time you want to rile Eames up, kiss him, not me."
It's interesting to watch the red creep from his neck to his face. It looks like he has a rash. Or a deep sunburn. "I'm sorry. I should have let you know about that."
"Yes, you should have." They stand there, awkwardly. There aren''t any people around them - they seem to have thrown up a force field between the two of them warning everyone silently to keep at a ten foot radius.
She wonders if she's going to have to do all the work when he brings a hand up to rub his neck. "It was a poor pretense, wasn't it." He lifts his head and gives her a rueful half grin.
She can't breathe. She's afraid to. "Yes", she manages. "Pretty awful, actually."
And just like that, he's back to solemn. "Before, what I said. I was lying."
She thinks about all the things he's told her. Which one is a lie? She braces herself. "Ok."
He sets down his laptop bag, drops the garment bag. "I don't know where I'm going."
He's got to stop giving her these mini heart attacks. She knows the grin she's giving him is inappropriately wide for the remark. "Is that all? I have no idea where I'm going either. I was just going to wander around, see what happens."
He gives her a look - it's - admiration - maybe a little envy. "You make it sound so easy."
"Not everything requires months of planning and research, Arthur. Sometimes it's nice to to not know what's waiting around the corner."
He hasn't moved any closer but she has the feeling he is checking himself. "You know I don't work that way." She drops her eyes, feeling silly. What did she expect him to say or do? But then he adds, "At least, I've never worked that way before."
She takes a tentative step closer. His pupils dilate slightly. "Maybe you just need someone to show you how it's done."
He slants his head. "I'd need someone very patient. She'd have to know I'm completely new at this. Probably be stuck with me for awhile."
She points a thumb at herself. "You're lucky I'm the whole package, then. Otherwise, you'd have a hard time finding yourself another perfect specimen."
He's smiling fully again. How is it that she's only seen him do that a handful of times? He breaches the boundary of her acceptable personal space. His eyebrow lifts. "You, huh?" All of her nerves scream as he draws closer still.
"Yeah, me. Definitely." Her head is tilting up to keep from breaking the stare.
Arthur's hand raises and his fingers trail down a few strands of her hair along her temple. She must be radiating her emotions - they play across his face like a shadow puppet show, in the crinkle of lines around his eyes and mouth, in the way he looks at her. Her eyes start stinging from not blinking. She's afraid to, but she finally does, quickly. He is still there. He swallows and she can see his Adam's apple bob. "Are you sure?"
He doesn't say the words but she knows he's referring to Cobb, possibly even Eames. "I don't want broken, Arthur. I don't want meaningless charm, or, trickery." And you're none of those, she wants to say. She takes another step toward him. Her hand is the compounded weight of all the hands in the world, but she manages to heft it onto his chest. Instantly, his heart is leaping. Hers is roaring in her ears.
He places his own hand to cover hers. Gently curls his fingers - it feels just as she dreamed - warm, dry, slightly calloused. Just like in the dream, but also completely unlike the dream. "Everybody's broken in some way, Ariadne."
She leans in still more. "Don't quibble with me, Arthur. You know what I mean."
He makes that odd-sounding laughter at the back of his throat before closing the small distance left between their mouths. A million things run through her head as this is happening – she thinks about reality and unreality, about what it means to be real, not to be real. She thinks about decisions and the choices that a person will make, consciously and subconsciously. She thinks about memory and truth and perception. She thinks about the look on Cobb's face when he will finally see his children; about Arthur's arms tightening around her waist, his lips insistent, impatient; the way she knows that if she were to roll up his sleeves she wouldn't find anything there; and, without opening her own that his eyes are closed too. She thinks about returning to Paris; waking up in the morning; finishing school; starting her life and building her dream. She thinks until she chooses to stop thinking, and she lets the current that is a river that is a flooding that is a feeling sweep her away.
AN: Well, that's it. For now. For awhile, methinks. I hoped you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. What's next? I'm going to focus on my own characters and own stories, but something tells me that Arthur is going to come back for another visit. That'll be a fun challenge! Until then, happy reading!