Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!
Dom shifted uncomfortably in the hard plastic seat. Sitting in front of him were two figures, a man and a woman. He looked at them. Both were pale, virtually expressionless.
"Dom," the man said, leaning forward. "We need to ask you something."
The teenager swallowed. "OK."
"We've been led to believe that you're in here due to your suffering from psychotic delusions. Apparently, you think you posess the ability to control people's dreams."
Dom looked at the man. "I can't control people's dreams. I-" he broke off, unwilling to expose himself to these strangers. He looked at the floor.
Neither of the strangers said anything. As a torturous silence began to open up, Dom realised they were prepared to wait.
Arthur blinked. He was sitting on the steps of a school. His school. He got up, noticing the stained stone steps, the tired looking sign. A bus drove away from the curb.
"This is real, isn't it?" He looked over. Miles was standing on the front steps. Arthur nodded. "Yes."
"OK." Arthur got up, and ran up the steps. "What are we looking for? Whats in this dream?"
Arthur turned, and looked at the older man. "She is, hopefully."
"Arthur!" Miles called after him. "Remember this – what you encounter, are not real. They're your projections. You may see her, but she won't be her. Remember that!"
Eames pulled against the restraints. The room he was in was dark, and he felt vulnerable, and exposed. He swallowed, trying to stay calm. Suddenly, the door burst open, and a woman walked in. She looked at him, coldly, dispassionately. Eames suddenly started to have an empathy with insects under microscopes.
"You can help yourself," she said, coolly, "by not struggling. It won't do you any good. Not in the long run."
Eames opened his mouth. "What do you want?"
"You claim you can become different people. We want you to prove it."
Ariadne waited in the room she'd been placed in. It felt hot, and uncomfortable. She pulled at her neck scarf, trying to cool her skin.
She tapped her fingers on the edge of the desk she was leaning against. Then she noticed the paper, and pen. She shifted a couple of sheets, and spotted a note.
DRAW A MAZE.
Blinking with surprise at the strange request, she picked up the pen, and began to tentatively sketch.
Arthur wandered down the hallway. The lockers gleamed with a bright, metallic harshness. He blinked, trying to focus. Suddenly, he heard voices. Loud, taunting voices.
"Oh, look at her, she's new," he bristled as he realised who was speaking. He turned a corner, and saw Ariadne. She was holding a few books, and trying to ignore the leering jocks. Swallowing, she tried to walk away.
"Hey, come back," one of them called. "We only want to talk to you!"
She started to walk, quickly. Arthur, keeping in the shadows, swallowed and watched her. He then turned his attention to the two jocks, who were sniggering. He stepped forward.
"Problem?"
Eames looked at her. "Different people?"
"In dreams," she finished. "That's why you're here. Upstairs, your friend Arthur is currently in a dream. Go into it with him. Become him."
Eames' eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"To prove you can do it."
The teenager nodded. "OK."
"I don't control people's dreams," Dom began. "I can walk around in them, find things, take things from them." He coughed, and reached for the glass of water.
"You take things? Be specific."
"In dreams, people are vulnerable," Cobb began. "They open their minds and let you in. The subconscious can cease to protect itself."
The man leaned forward. "Do you think you can do this for us, Dom?"
Dom swallowed. "Why?"
"Its not you place to ask why," the man said, crisply. "But we'll ensure you get a clean bill of mental health."
Eames looked at the two sleeping forms, his eyes widening slightly as the IV was pulled out and attached to his arm. He looked at Arthur, studying him intently. His eyes narrowed, a smile playing around his lips. This could be fun.
The woman smiled at him. "Sleep well," she said softly, and hit the PASIV button.