A/N- Two updates in twenty-four hours! Not bad for me! I hope you enjoy Chapter Eleven.
Thanks for reading. Reviews are great - Ellen
It wasn't long before Ariadne's legs gave way. Cobb lifted her up and, slightly unnerved at how little she weighed, continued along the brightly lit corridor.
Getting out of the ward had actually been surprisingly easy. Whatever had happened to Cobb, thought Ariadne, had certainly helped their cause and now, perfectly recovered from the disease she was suffering so terribly from, he was able to support both of their weight with surprising ease.
They had begun their search by simply moving from room to room, examining the contents of each. The rooms had mainly comprised of offices: an obvious place to keep a safe, although they had so far found none. They had not yet come across any other wards or, indeed, any more patients than the ones that had been asleep in their own ward. Ariadne wasn't sure whether this should calm her or unnerve her and so she decided to ignore it altogether, dismissing it as unimportant, and instead tried to focus on the more pressing task of not dying. This was not an easy feat and, as Cobb carefully put her down on a desk as he turned to inspect a nearby filing cabinet, she coughed and found the front of her smock covered in a smattering of blood. Cobb turned and, upon seeing the red smear, his face fell.
"I'll be fine," Ariadne wheezed. "Just carry on looking." Cobb nodded and, with a new sense of urgency, continued to search the cabinet.
They searched three more rooms before arriving at a large, deserted operating theatre.
It was dark and, with only the green glow of some of the equipment monitors to illuminate the room, the furniture cast an eerie shadow across the dingy walls. A dull, computerized hum echoed around the large room, making Ariadne's ears ache. There was also another sound: a sort of metallic drilling that sounded somehow unsteady, as if it was going to stop any second. Ariadne suddenly felt a wave of déjà-vu, as if she'd heard it before.
Stepping further into the room, Cobb carefully placed Ariadne on the surgical bed, where she flopped heavily onto the thin padding.
"I won't be a minute," he whispered and she smiled weakly, appreciating his effort to comfort her, even if he was blatantly lying. He smiled nervously and, turning his back on her, started to examine the monitors.
Mr X was going to have a lot to explain, thought Ariadne as she lay on the surgical bed. Whoever he was, he was insane and had very little regard for human life: prepared to sacrifice the lives of thousands just so he could get whatever it was he wanted from the mind of Dominic Cobb. She tried to think of possible candidates. Browning and Fischer seemed the most obvious, seeing as the team had altered their lives recently. Was this a simple revenge stunt? It seemed a bit harsh if it was. Even when scared and in danger, Robert Fischer had never seemed bloodthirsty.
Ariadne rolled over so she was lying on her back – a position she had discovered was slightly more comfortable – and shut her eyes, listening to the shuffling of Cobb's shoes on the laminate flooring. She could still hear the other sound, the strange one. Somehow, it unnerved her and her breathing slowed and hitched slightly. Startled, Ariadne felt her heart hammer and she tasted blood in her mouth. Was this it? Was this what dying felt like? She tried to speak to alert Cobb to her condition, but found her breath caught in her throat, as if someone was strangling her slowly. She clamped her eyes shut and clenched hold of the fabric beneath her, dragging it closer. As she did so, a small remote control, no doubt for controlling the bed, crashed to the floor and slid over to where Cobb was crouched in front of a set of cabinets.
"Ariadne?" Suddenly he was there, stroking her hair. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she gasped and gagged at the air.
"Can't...breathe..." she stammered. Cobb flung open cabinet after cabinet, searching for some sort of breathing apparatus. It was as he opened the last one, nearest the bank of monitors, that he saw it.
A small, metal safe. The metallic noise had suddenly got louder and he realised it must be coming from within the safe.
"I've found it!" he exclaimed, turning to look at Ariadne. She was holding her throat and gasping.
"Oh...right," he continued to throw open cabinets before finally locating a small plastic breathing mask. He grabbed it and ran over to the bed, thrusting it onto Ariadne's face.
"Deep breaths," he murmured as she gasped and trembled, her lungs scrabbling for air. After a few minutes, her breathing seemed to return to normal and, as he removed the mask from her face, Cobb noticed that the mouthpiece was coated with a mixture of phlegm and blood.
"Sorry about that," Ariadne wheezed. "I'll try not to die on you."
"Thanks," Cobb replied, before turning to look at the safe. "What do you think is in there?"
"I don't know," she replied, tucking her hair behind her ear. She watched as Cobb moved forward and span the dial of the safe between his fingers. Of course – they didn't know the combination.
"I'll be a minute," Cobb murmured. Oh yes – Dom Cobb, master thief, wouldn't let a mere combination yet in the way of the most important heist of his life – from himself. Suddenly, Ariadne felt a lurch of terror. What was in the safe? Would Cobb immediately know that they'd betrayed him, that he was stealing from his own mind?
With a dull, metal click, the safe opened. Ariadne realised where she had heard that sound before: as a child, playing with her spinning tops. With a cold feeling of dread, Ariadne suddenly felt like she knew what was in the safe. Cobb reached forward, obscuring Ariadne's view of the safe as he did so.
He seemed to freeze, his arm extended. The noise stopped.
"What?" Ariadne asked. "What is it?"
He turned and, clenched in his fist, was a small, metal spinning top.
Ariadne froze. Cobb stared at it, holding it between his thumb and forefinger.
"I don't understand," he said, turning it over. "I had it with me before. How has it got here?"
"I don't know," Ariadne said truthfully.
"Oh, but I do." The voice came from the doorway.
Slowly, Ariadne turned.
A pair of cold, grey eyes. Eyes she knew. Eyes that had never seemed particularly cold before. Her breath caught in her throat and she immediately knew she was staring at the elusive Mr X.
Only it wasn't Browning and it wasn't Fischer...
