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.
Thanks to the reviews, whose encouragement keeps me going! Guest 1: Yeah, I noticed it seemed to be having issues the night I posted, but when I checked the next morning, everything looked okay. Hopefully you saw the chapter. Nina.4444: wow, thanks! this is as soon as I could do... theonlyredhead: nope, not finished! that would be so mean, to leave it like that. Paradoxical Fish: a request for more Micah? I'll take that as a serious compliment, since he's my character! we'll hear from him, but his next POV will be chapter 12. In. Blue. 85: It's been so long, too! Lazarus76: thanks! always an honor to get a review from you Guest 1: glad you got the chapter! this is Ariadne's POV so maybe it'll give some insight... and note below regarding Natasha. Laura-x: yay! thank you! happy that you're following "To Lose My Life" with this Knuckiducki: OMG long review! love it. we're leaving Volkov in this chapter (for now...) I had some fun w/ the background, thrilled you liked it/it worked for you. yeah I think I leave hints. not as much as I'd like, but that's the con of posting as you go. MajesticMoments: no worries about the tardiness of your review, because I dropped the ball posting this.
Hey, Guest Reviewers: I'd like to thank you individually, so if you want to leave a name to go by, that'd help me out. Thanks x
NOTE: There was some confusion regarding the end of the previous chapter, which I've since edited/re-posted. Arthur effectively killed Natasha, who was his father's sister. The confusion stemmed from, I believe, the fact I hadn't changed a few pronouns from "he" to "she". Sorry about that.
And WOW, sorry about the atrocious delays. I've taken to re-reading "To Lose My Life" in an effort to get my groove back, and it's been pretty fruitful; inspiring both plot lines and self-deprecation.
Chapter title from the lovely song by Carla Bruni. (translated as, I believe, "somebody told me")
Quelqu'un m'a dit
Saturday, May 18, 2013: Provideniya, Russia: Volkov's Warehouse: Ariadne
It was fiercely cold to Ariadne, at forty degrees fahrenheit, having come from Manhattan where the temperatures were routinely at least sixty degrees fahrenheit this time of year. She was sitting on the frozen tundra, some distance away from Volkov's warehouse, her arms crossed tightly around her legs, pressed against her chest. The wind blew, picking up the loose tendrils of her hair, and she closed her eyes.
She imagined she was back on the bench in Paris, sitting with Arthur. He was smiling at her and laughing, his dark brown eyes so warm and filled with love and adoration. He was holding her hand, and her head was pressed against his shoulder and they weren't saying anything, not a single word, because they didn't have to. They were crazy in love, and already knew everything that could've been said.
Ariadne didn't want to leave her fantasy. She remembered the feel of Arthur's expensive suit, pressing her nose into his shoulder to catch his scent, that alluring smell of aftershave. She touched his cheek, her fingers marveling at how smooth his skin was, how whenever they touched it felt like an electric spark had leapt between them. She ghosted her fingers through his hair, the bumpy texture of it, and then Arthur caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her fingers gently and she laughed and opened her mouth to speak-
"Ariadne?"
She snapped out of it, scrambling around. But it was only Micah, his bright red hair blowing in the wind, his blue eyes wide with nervousness behind his glasses. He was bundled up, in his thick winter jacket, jeans and sneakers. He approached her slowly, and gestured to the space next to her.
"May I sit with you?" He asked, ever so polite.
Ariadne nodded, and Micah flopped onto the ground next to her, tucking his long legs under him in a criss-cross position. Together, they surveyed the arctic tundra, the patches of ice and snow, the emptiness of it all.
"It's funny," Micah said suddenly. "Before I left Houston, I'd only seen snow once in my life, when my parents took me and my siblings up to Canada for winter break. And then I moved to New York, and Massachusetts, and I got used to being buried up to my waist in snow every winter. It should be just an old, boring fact of life by now, but it isn't really. I still get excited when I notice it's snowing, and I still steal a lunch tray from the dining hall and go sledding on the closed streets."
Ariadne stared at Micah, completely taken off guard and bewildered as to why he was telling her all this. Micah blushed at her confused look.
"Sorry," he murmured. "I was just trying to break the ice."
"Oh," Ariadne said, immediately feeling guilty. "You don't have to. We've met before."
"What are you doing out here, all alone?"
Ariadne sighed, looking out at the barren land, trying to find the right words. "Just trying to collect my thoughts, I guess. It's a bit suffocating in there."
Micah nodded sagely. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Cobb's getting our flights out of Russia together, but then there's Eames and Arthur..." He grimaced. "It's kind of like watching a one-sided conversation."
After exiting the dream an hour earlier, Eames had continued to freak out and panic. He'd accosted Arthur right away, yelling and screeching at him, before a bemused Cobb and satisfied Volkov. And while Eames explained to Cobb what had transpired-that Arthur had all but murdered his father's sister, the woman trying to preserve his father's memory-Ariadne had stared at the body of Natasha. For that was all she was now: a body. A heartbeat.
The nightmare of what Arthur had just committed, a heinous act to someone the old Arthur had surely loved, or would've, if he'd known her, was too much for Ariadne to cope with. She'd fled out of the warehouse, trying to run away from Volkov's smirk, Arthur's empty expression, Eames horrified caterwauling.
"Eames keeps trying to get Arthur to wake up and realize what he's done," Micah continued, oblivious to Ariadne's memories. "But, uh… somehow I think that's easier said than accomplished."
"Micah," Ariadne murmured. "What about you?"
"What about me?" Micah asked blankly.
Ariadne sighed impatiently. Gee, what could I possibly be asking about? "The dream. Arthur attacking you…"
"Oh, right," Micah said, nodding. "Yeah. That sucked."
"That sucked." Ariadne stared.
Micah blushed. "Alright, that's a bit of an understatement. It was… terrifying. Traumatic. I think, if there'd been any sign of water…"
Ariadne understood, without Micah needing to finish that sentence. She could remember, all too well, the day where Arthur had half-drowned Micah in the Pacific Ocean. Even though every party had been forgiven-and everyone knew why Arthur had done it-she wasn't shocked in the slightest to know Micah was still haunted by the incident.
"You seem much better, though," Ariadne commented.
"Being assaulted by Arthur, it isn't exactly something one gets… 'used to,'" Micah said, smirking slightly. "But, this time at least… Getting mad at him would be like getting mad at a bear for attacking you. It's instinct."
Ariadne picked at her nails. "He's not himself."
"Oh certainly," Micah confirmed. "I mean, just the way he went after me… All gut, no skill. Freaking Eames could've done the same thing."
Ariadne laughed. "I feel like Eames would resent that remark."
"Eh, he can handle it."
They fell into a companionable silence. Ariadne gazed out over the empty tundra, all ice and pale brown and dark gray sky. There was no sign of characterization, nothing remarkable to salvage from the sight.
"Ariadne," Micah said softly. "What happens next?"
The million dollar question. Where was Ariadne's plan, her ultimate agenda towards bringing Arthur back? She chose her words carefully.
"We'll take him back to the States," she mused. "I'm hoping Miles might be able to help, so we'll probably go to Chicago first. After that… I have no idea."
"I want to help."
Ariadne looked at Micah. She found herself unsurprised at his proclamation, though still deeply grateful and humbled. She opened her mouth to respond, but Micah interrupted.
"I have time. I'm out of school, and my internship doesn't start for a while, and then I'd only have to be in New York, and you live in New York, so Arthur'll probably be there too-"
"Micah," Ariadne interrupted gently. "It's okay. I'm glad you want to help him."
"Okay, good." Micah flushed, and Ariadne squeezed his hand.
A shrill whistle made them look around. Eames was standing outside the warehouse, arms raised. He beckoned them towards the building, before heading inside himself.
"Guess that's our cue," Micah muttered.
They picked their way back across the ice to Eames, who was rubbing his gloved hands together.
"Bloody cold, isn't it?" He asked.
Ariadne ignored the comment. "Time to go?"
"Soon. Volkov's talking with Cobb." Eames held the door open for them.
Ariadne spotted Cobb and Volkov standing in the main area, talking quietly over a pile of papers; she guessed they were discussing the job. Next to them was a new sight. Arthur was dressed in boots, jeans and a long dark buttoned jacket, a black tuque on his head to cover up the baldness. He was standing next to Cobb. For one wild moment, Ariadne imagined Cobb was about to tell her to get to work on her models and that Arthur was going undercover for the job.
As she watched, Arthur interrupted their conversation, gesturing to something on a sheet in front of them. Volkov and Cobb listened patiently, nodding and adding their own comments. Arthur turned away at the sound of Eames, Micah and Ariadne arriving. He muttered something to Cobb and squeezed the man's shoulder before walking away.
He paused next to Eames. "Leaving in ten minutes," he said softly, sounding just like the old Arthur.
Eames scowled. "Not soon enough."
"You'll survive, Mr. Eames," Arthur said dryly. Ariadne almost laughed; the comment was so familiar. But then Arthur's eyes barely ghosted over Arthur, and herself, and he disappeared down the hall without so much as a hello. Confused, and worried, Ariadne found her feet taking her after him.
He was back in his cell, packing a sparse amount of clothes into a duffel bag. She hovered in the doorway, uncertain as to what to say.
She eventually chose to be casual: "Hey."
Arthur glanced up. "Hello."
Ariadne bit her lip, but Arthur only continued to pack, carefully depositing black sneakers in the bag. "Um, how are you?"
"Fine," Arthur said smoothly. "Glad to be out of Russia."
"Yeah, you never wanted to come back," Ariadne said. Arthur suddenly straightened and stared at her, giving her his full attention for the first time since their first encounter on Thursday. She swallowed. "After your father died... You told me once, 'if I never have to go back to Russia, it'll be too soon.'"
"I said that to you?"
Her heart broke at his surprise. "Yes, you did."
"Hm." He considered this. "Well, I suppose I can imagine myself saying something like that." He zipped the bag closed and looked at her. "Ariadne, what's going to happen to me?"
She took a deep breath. "I'm not sure. I mean, we'll probably go to Chicago first. Miles is there with the kids, and he'll want to see you..."
"You'll be there?"
She found herself smiling. "Yes, I will. I won't leave you."
Silence fell, but before either could speak, there was a knock on the door: Eames was there, looking awkward.
"We're set," he murmured.
Arthur picked up the bag, swinging it onto his shoulder. But he paused for a moment, to look at Ariadne. She held her breath, waiting...
"Thank you," he said softly. "That's kind of you."
And he was gone, with only a swift nod at Eames. Ariadne remained utterly still for a moment, forcing her body to breathe again and accept Arthur's statement. She eventually got her legs moving again, but Eames' hand on her shoulder gave her pause.
"Are you alright, Ari?" He asked sympathetically.
She nodded. "I'm fine, Edward." But the unsettled feeling in her stomach remained. She and Eames walked down the hall, and outside, where Volkov was standing next to a large van, with Cobb, Micah and Arthur all waiting.
"It looks like this is where we say goodbye," Volkov said. His voice still carried a trace of triumph that Ariadne abhorred. "It has been… Interesting, to finally meet you all. I wish you the best."
"Wish I could say the same, buddy," Eames said, surprising Volkov by clapping him on the back. He exchanged a meaningful look with Cobb before hopping into the driver's side of the waiting van. The engine started with a roar.
Micah glared at Volkov before obediently shuffling after Eames. He scrambled into the back of the van. Cobb and Volkov shared a tense handshake.
Arthur approached Volkov. The two looked at each other. It seemed to Ariadne there was some sort of silent communication going on; both looked intense and angry. Eventually the staring contest ended when Arthur flinched and turned away, climbing into the van next to Micah, with Cobb in the front.
Ariadne was last. She walked to Volkov and extended her hand without a word. After a brief handshake, she moved to let go, but Volkov only gripped her hand harder.
"Ms. Chopin, working with you has been a pleasure," he drawled. "Your creations are… magnificent. I wish to implore you to work with me anytime. You only have to find me."
Ariadne wrenched her hand away, disgusted. "I think it's safe to say, Mr. Volkov, that won't happen."
"Never say never."
She looked at him, really looked at him, taking in his aged skin and crooked smile. She reminded herself that this was the man who'd all but destroyed Arthur, who broke him, who stole his identity and then manipulated him into murdering his aunt. In a way, Volkov was responsible for her own shattered heart.
"We'll see," she said sharply. And then she turned, accepting Micah's hand and climbing into the van. The door slammed shut and they were on their way, leaving behind Volkov and the frozen tundra for what Ariadne hoped was forever.
It was only when she caught sight of Arthur's set face in the rearview mirror, that she noticed something alarming: Arthur had never once spoke to her by using the nickname he had given her, Ari.
New chapter! And I feel so bad about the delay, but if you're reading this, you're still in, so here's some info about next chapter (which is being written quickly, I swear): It'll be called "Where Is My Mind?" from the Pixies song, feature Cobb's point of view, and include some speech straight from Arthur himself and a (big) revelation towards what exactly is going on in his head.
Review, please