Chapter 11

I still don't own Inception. And picking up right where Chapter 10 left off…

Mal was in the hotel room with Cobb. Rachel hid outside the door until the saw him lower himself out the window. Mal was now alone in the room, sitting in a maroon leather chair, looking around disinterestedly. Rachel stuck her head through the door.

"Mal," she hissed.

Mal twisted in the chair. "Rachel? What are you doing here?"

"I can't explain right now, but you need to come with me. Hurry!"

"I can't," said Mal. She gestured to the rope leading from the chair to the window. "Dom…"

"Please!"

Mal bit her lip, a pained expression on her face, and then rose form the chair. She second she did, it shot towards the window, and she shouted in alarm. But then it hit the window frame and jerked to a halt. Mal let out a relieved sigh, and followed Rachel out into the hall.

Before Rachel could say a word, however, there was a low grunt and a cry of pain. Both turned to see two projections in tuxes dragging Arthur forcibly down the stairs.

"What's going on?" asked Rachel.

"I'll go talk to them," said Mal. "Stay here." And she strode away without another word.

*Magical time machine transports the reader back to a time after the Stein job, while Rachel is alive n' kicking*

"It was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Greenberg," the rep shook Cobb's hand briefly. "Mr. Anders." Arthur kept his hands in his pockets. After an awkward pause, the rep withdrew his own and reshuffled a perfectly straight stack of files. "Very good. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

"Yes, actually," said Cobb. The rep looked up from his desk. "Our Somnacin supplier has been, er…neutralized. We'll require some. I presume you'd prefer us not to put in a request at the regulation board?"

"Yes, of course, Mr. Greenberg," said the rep. "We'll see that you get some."

"Very good." Cobb led the way out of the office.

oOo

"Jesus H. Christ and all his wacky nephews," Rachel groaned, sitting up. "What the hell was that?"

Cobb and Arthur straightened up as well, with similar grimaces of pain. "This is what happens when you use borrowed Somnacin," said Arthur. "We should've just rooted out our own source."

"Beggars can't be choosers," said Cobb. "Least we got it done." He shot a look at Rachel. "We did get it, right?"

Rachel nodded. "Yeah. It's a little blurry." She tapped her head. "But it's in there."

oOo

"Have you seen Rachel?"

Cobb looked up from his maze, blinking. "Huh? No, she went out."

"How long ago?"

"Uh, a few hours ago? She just said…I don't remember." Cobb rubbed his eyes. "Still kind of fuzzy from the Somnacin, I guess."

"Yeah," Arthur nodded, looking unconvinced. It wasn't the first time Rachel had disappeared for hours on end. She'd never been one for a structured schedule.

Arthur turned back to the PASIV case on his work table, and as he did so, noticed a small rubber ball sitting behind it. It never occurred to Arthur to wonder why Rachel had left her totem. She rarely used it anyways. That should have been the first clue.

oOo

Ariadne stormed out of the warehouse. Arthur smiled and shook his head, beginning to close up the PASIV.

"She'll be back," said Cobb, re-emerging from the bathroom. "I've never seen anyone pick it up that quickly before."

Arthur snapped the case shut with unnecessary force. "Really?"

Cobb gave him an odd look, then seemed to understand. He frowned. "Don't start."

"I have to," Arthur shouted after his retreating back. "Before somebody else ends up a the bottom of the river."

Cobb stopped, but did not turn around. Quietly, he said, "Nothing was proven." He continued walking and slammed the warehouse door behind him.

Arthur slumped onto one of the lawn chairs, resting his head in his hand. Of course nothing had been proven. Nothing ever would be proven. No body had been found, and legally, Rachel Walker didn't exist. They didn't even know if that was her real name. And it wasn't exactly like they could go to the police and believed she'd been poisoned by a substance which was still technically over a decade in the future. Arthur's own investigations had been pathetically fruitless. And nothing had been proven.

From his pocket he took the small bouncy ball and rolled it around in his palm. Maybe Ariadne would be different.

All review appersheated. I think the next chapter will be the last. Unless divine intervention intervenes divinely. But I don't think it will.