Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!
Arthur shivered slightly. He wanted to cry out, but knew as soon as he did, there'd be trouble.
His mind was racing. How did Greenwood get hold of a PASIV? How had he gotten it from Saito? And why was he here, and why were they commenting on his weight-
He was plunged into darkness.
Cobb swallowed. Pulling out his cellphone, he dialled. Elise answered. "Hello?"
"It's Cobb," he said, abruptly, not even bothering to be pleasant. "I need you to meet me at the clinic. That's where he is."
"Did Saito tell you?"
"No, educated guess. But you meet me there. If you don't, I promise you this – you won't like it."
"What about Eames and Ariadne?"
"I'm leaving them out of this. You helped cause this, you can help me deal with it."
Greenwood blinked. He was standing in a large, cavernous room. Turning, he noticed it was filled with chairs, furniture, and some interesting looking machinery. Taking a few steps, he noticed a slender man in a beige suit, kneeling down. He was fiddling with a large silver box.
"Arthur?" Greenwood said, confidently. The man got up. To his astonishment, the psychotherapist saw it was Arthur, and, he noticed, this one had an air of self-assured confidence.
"Can I help you?" Arthur asked, puzzled, but polite. Greenwood swallowed.
"I hope so. You see, I have a puzzle I need to solve…and I think you might be the right person to help me."
Arthur looked interested, but wary. "What type of puzzle?"
"Well…" Greenwood looked at him, his eyes narrowing. "Tell me, Arthur, you are an extractor, are you not?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur said, evenly. He turned away, but Greenwood took another step forward.
"Extraction." Greenwood spoke softly. "The art of taking ideas from people…in dreams."
Arthur looked at him. "I'm not an extractor."
"You're not?"
"No."
"Obviously not."
Arthur turned, looking slightly stung. "And what do you mean by that?"
Greenwood smiled coldly and took another step forward. "Because if you were, Arthur, you would know that you're the victim of an inception."
Cobb drove. Elise was silent next to him. He turned to look at her.
"When we get there," he said, trying to stay calm, "we just go in, and pull him out. If we have to, we threaten them. There is no way he's staying there."
Elise coughed. "Dom. What if he's already being worked on? He could be drugged, he could be-"
"He could be, and I hope he isn't." Cobb shot her a look. "Why did you turn on us? Why have you done this?"
"Because Saito threatened to kill Dean," she said, angrily. Her eyes were filling with tears. "You're not the the only person who stands to lose someone you love."
Cobb swallowed. "I'm sorry to hear that. But you sold Arthur out…"
"And you performed an inception. You should have guessed he'd realise the truth."
The Extractor kept his eyes fixed on the road. "I always knew he'd discover the truth."
Arthur looked at him. "You're mistaken." He turned his back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do. You can see yourself out, I'm sure."
"Arthur!" Greenwood called to him. "What if I told you that you were my patient?"
Arthur turned. His face was cold.
"I don't know who you are," he said, coldly, "or what kind of kooky place you come from, but you don't know what you're talking about. You don't know. Now, if you would please go-"
"You're having dreams, aren't you?" Greenwood insisted. "Dreams where you think she doesn't love you. Dreams where you think you're too fat and ugly for her. And then you want to binge. And purge."
Arthur stiffened. "Excuse me?"
"Its inside you, Arthur." Greenwood took a step closer. "There is this peculiar arrogance with eating disorder sufferers. They think they control the illness. It controls them."
"I don't have an eating disorder." Arthur looked disgusted. "I feel sorry for anorexics and bulimics. They're sick, and they need care. But I'm not one of them."
"Yes, you are," Greenwood insisted. "Don't you sometimes feel those urges, Arthur? The urge to eat uncontrollably, and then throw up? The urge to binge, the urge to gorge? All due to feelings of insecurity, feeling that you're not good enough?"
Arthur went slightly pale. "I don't know what you-"
"Yes, you do," Greenwood said smoothly. "You do. Follow me, Arthur."
His face paling slightly, the Point Man nodded. "OK."
Cobb ran into the clinic, Elise behind him. As he entered, a male nurse approached. "Can I help you?"
"Yes," Cobb said, willing himself to stay polite. "I need to see Arthur Ogilvie."
"You can't," the nurse said abruptly, turning away. He stopped. Cobb had pulled out a gun and was pressing it to his back.
"I'm prepared to use this," Cobb said, evenly, "if you don't tell me where he is. Understand?"
The nurse nodded. "Okay. This way."
Arthur followed Greenwood. He pushed open a door, remembering what Saito had told him about manipulating the dreamscape. He had opened the door to a dining hall.
Arthur walked in behind him, and swallowed. The table was covered with food, ranging from savoury to sweet. He blinked, and turned.
"Have a seat." Greenwood's voice was soft, and persuasive.
"I'm not hungry," Arthur said, coldly, and turned to walk out.
"Yes, you are, Arthur." Greenwood's voice had a sibilant hiss. "You're hungry for love, and its feeding time for you. Sit down."
Arthur shook his head. "This is insanity."
"I said, sit down."
Arthur looked at Greenwood. "No, I won't. I don't need anything."
"Arthur." Greenwood looked at him, hard. "You have been incepted by Dom Cobb. You see, you're a bulimic. You're bulimic, and you can't control it."
Arthur exhaled. "I can't be."
"Just try a piece of this, Arthur." Greenwood slyly slid a chocolate gateaux over to the Point Man. "Give in to that inner monster."
"Stay here," Dom told Elise. They were standing inside the nurse's office, two of the men sitting on chairs. Elise had the gun trained on them.
"Where are you going?"
"To find my Point Man," Dom said, curtly. Turning, he hurried through the door. On instinct, he went straight to Greenwood's office.
"Look," Arthur said, his face suffusing with crimson. "I don't need this. I'm not hungry. Look, just-"
He heard a click. Greenwood was pointing a gun at his temple.
"Eat it." His voice was soft. "Just give in, Arthur. You're not different to every other bulimic I've encountered. Thinking you're in control, but it controls you. You plan your whole day around food. Eating it, purging it, avoiding it. You can't think of anything else. Just give in, and eat it."
Arthur swallowed. "I –"
"You want to. You really want to. Dom Cobb has made you think you're ok, but you're not. Not at all."
Cobb's eyes widened as he saw the two dreamers. Swallowing, he walked to the PASIV, and pulled out a third IV. Sliding it into his arm, he lay down, and closed his eyes.