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.
reviewers are out of this world fabulous- PrettyPrettyPlease: there's a lot of hate for New Arthur, so you're not alone! that's so neat you love Helena, I love that… Lauraa-x: yes, exactly correct on what Arthur is thinking. do you think it changes Micah's opinion? thank you for the kind words re: my AN. it truly means so much to me. Knuckiducki: ESKIMO. That was a long review, I loved all of it. thanks for catching up on the other chapters! I wondered where you'd gone… and great job at catching the farmers market reference! In. Blue. 85: NYC at Christmastime is, no other word for it, magical. just wonderful. I don't disagree with Micah's assessment of Arthur's cowardice, but definitely understand why it enraged Arthur so. realizing Micah's right would be very emotionally difficult for Arthur. Lazarus76: thank you! hope you're doing well. x . : epic bromance! which do you want to go to? do you live on the east coast!?
204 REVIEWS! Thank you thank you thank you. your encouragement and thoughts are something I treasure greatly, and I especially love how your comments can inspire me! I'm not even kidding; some parts of this story may never have happened if not for your reviews. xx
and the DELAY. ugh. I think after you read this chapter you'll see why it took so long. lot of thinking...
chapter title from the song by Rihanna; I've noticed that the older I get, the more I enjoy her music. whatever that means. especially this song…
Stay
Friday, July 12, 2013: New York City, New York: Helena Cross' House: Ariadne
Ariadne surveyed Helena as the old woman poured herself a cup of boiling hot tea. Even though the thermostat outside read 92 degrees (and was climbing), Helena remained undaunted in the face of hot beverages. She'd offered Ariadne a cup of tea, but she'd declined, stating that water was just fine.
Normally, after putting their drinks together, Helena would immediately jump into whatever lesson she was giving Ariadne that day. They'd begin with discussion, where Helena would essentially lecture Ariadne on what was ahead, and allowed Ariadne to ask questions. After she was certain Ariadne understood, Helena would get out her PASIV and they'd enter Ariadne's mind for a demonstration.
Today, however, was different.
Ariadne had just breathlessly told Helena about what Micah had learned the day before, on a trip to Arlington National Cemetery with Arthur. For Ariadne, this revelation was nothing short of a real breakthrough. Literally; Old Arthur, her Arthur, was clawing away at whatever prison Volkov had created for him. He was fighting, to make his way back to her.
"Promise me something."
"Yes?"
"Tomorrow. Promise me that you will try. That you won't just lay down and let them kill you. Try to survive."
"I will. I'll try."
He was still trying to live, for her. Even lost in his mind, he refused to give up, to leave her for good. The very thought made her eyes water and her heart swell.
In the hours since Micah had dropped this game changing revelation, Ariadne had felt lighter. She'd felt more relaxed, more confident, more rejuvenated. She knew the reason why was that she'd just been given her first solid piece of hope that Arthur could be saved. But to someone else, the reason behind her sudden cheeriness was debatable.
Eames.
What was she to do about Eames? She definitely didn't regret sleeping with him, not at all. And he'd certainly made her feel better, warmer, just generally more… human. It'd been four days since that night, and she'd seen Eames at least once every day, and had only seen Arthur when she'd come by Micah's apartment to meet the student for dinner. Arthur had been lounging on the couch, watching a generic crime drama. He'd looked up when she'd entered and had nodded. That'd been the day before he and Micah went to Washington…
Eames, of course, knew what had happened in the capital. Cobb did as well, as Micah had gathered them all together to launch into explicit detail of what Arthur had done in front of the graves of Seth Erickson and himself. She, Cobb and Eames had all been anxious and bewildered, waiting at her apartment for Micah to return from Penn Station. When he'd called Ariadne and said he had something to tell her, all he would say was, "New Arthur isn't anything at all that we thought he was."
That had been a very vague statement, but Micah refused to elaborate, explaining that he'd enlighten them when he could give more complex and thorough answers. Which he'd done, at one a.m. in the morning, in Ariadne's apartment.
The shock of Micah's revelation had hung over them for hours. Arthur was remembering? Why those memories? What exactly triggers them, and is there more than one?
Will he remember more? Will he remember how close he was to Micah, the power plant, Ariadne-
When Micah had gushed to them, his tone one of awe and wonder, that for one tiny moment he knew that Arthur had recognized him, known him, Ariadne's heart had stopped.
There was nothing in the world she wouldn't give for Arthur to know her, no matter how short the time. To see the recollection in his auburn eyes, followed by a split second of the love and commitment she'd missed so much. She felt almost bitter towards Micah. They all knew that Arthur and Micah had a special bond, but why had the Old Arthur come out for Micah? After the concentrated efforts she'd made to jog his memory?
Was he hiding? She wondered. Was he aware, even now, of what his new counterpart was doing to her? The constant hurt he inflicted upon her? Did her Arthur know, and just couldn't bear to acknowledge it, knowing he had no power to prevent any of it?
Ariadne's mind could go over these questions for hours on end. She had to force herself to become distracted, whether through reading or watching television or sleeping.
In the present, Helena set her cup of tea down. Ariadne reflected once more on how unusual her response was.
Normally, after Ariadne offered a tidbit, Helena would talk nonstop, giving her own opinion. But now, after Ariadne had thoroughly told her what had happened yesterday- he's regressing, he's still there- Helena was silent.
Ariadne coughed meekly. "Helena… Did you-"
"I heard you, of course," Helena muttered sharply. She rested her face on veined petite hands.
"Do you know what's happening?"
Helena's lips twisted. "Unfortunately."
Ariadne froze. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"
"If what your friend says is true," Helena said slowly, "if Arthur is, in fact, regaining some cognition and recalling things that happened to him, memories that Nikolai should've buried… Well, it means that it's time."
"Time," Ariadne repeated, confused.
Helena looked up at her. "It's time. If you are going to attempt to save him, you must do so immediately."
"What?" Ariadne gasped. "But why? Isn't this good? I mean, shouldn't I let him continue to do this on his own? Maybe he doesn't need me…"
She trailed off. She wanted to believe that Arthur could do this himself, recover himself, drag himself out of his mental hell… All the better. She still didn't know how she would even go about convincing New Arthur to undergo the process Helena had been faithfully teaching her. Any chance of not doing it-convincing Arthur, not to mention the actual task- would be wonderful.
"You fail to grasp the true peril of what is happening here," Helena murmured. "Arthur's sanity is in grave danger."
"Then explain," Ariadne snapped.
Helena paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Then she stood, shuffling to the large bookcase that dominated the room. Ariadne watched as she plucked a small box from the shelf and returned to her chair. The box was orange and made of wood, inscribed with foreign symbols.
Helena smiled. "I got this in Panama. A memento."
"Okay," Ariadne said slowly. "But what does-"
"This does." Helena opened the box and lifted out two silver cylindrical shaped objects that were so dark gray, they appeared black. She rested one in each palm and held them out to Ariadne.
"Do you know what these are, my dear?"
"Um…" Ariadne frowned. "They look a little like these toy magnets my brother used to have."
Helena smiled. "Toys. To children only. These are called rare-earth magnets. The strongest type of magnet the planet has to offer. They are found in everyday items, like hard drives, wind turbines, flashlights. They make sure these items work.
"Now," Helena continued. "The thing about these magnets is that they are not only strong, but strong with each other." She tapped the magnets together by their tops and lifted one; the other hung off the end, perilously, but sturdily. "They can co-exist like this forever, barely touching. But, if you were to change their alignment…" She flipped them around so they were side by side and attempted to push them together. The force between them prevented her from doing so. Helena sat back with a sigh, looking at Ariadne expectantly.
Ariadne frowned. "Magnets."
Helena smirked. "I am not making myself clear. The magnets are a metaphor for Arthur's two… let's say, personalities. The Old Arthur and the New one."
"They can't exist together?"
"Oh, no, you misunderstand me," Helena said sharply. She got up again and returned to the bookcase, this time opening a cabinet and procuring a three-dimensional model of a human brain. Ariadne pulled the table so it rested between their chairs, and Helena placed the brain on it. It was fully diagramed, sections designated with what looked like Sharpie, titled with things like "temporal lobe" and "hippocampus."
"How much do you know about the brain, Ariadne?"
Ariadne smiled sheepishly. "Not much. I took a few psychology classes when I was doing my undergraduate degree, and then I've learned some from Cobb and Arthur."
Helena smirked. "Do you understand the theory of the two hemispheres of the brain?"
"Yes," Ariadne said. "The creative side versus the logical."
"An admirable theory," Helena agreed. "But mistaken when stated like that. One side of the brain is not the sole place that houses creativity. And vice versa. What I want to draw your attention to is this."
She ran a finger over the center of the brain. Ariadne leaned over, noticing that there appeared to be a small space separating the two halves.
"This is the corpus callosum," Helena explained. "A band of nerves that joins together the two parts of the brain. In severe cases, usually to do with epilepsy, the corpus callosum is severed, breaking off the connection. The patient will continue to live as normal, for the most part. Except the two parts of the brain will no longer be able to react together. Depending on where in the brain one's speech-control center is located, the patient may not be able to physically say what they are seeing on one side of their body. And in very extreme cases, sometimes doctors must remove one half of the brain."
Ariadne stared. "That… That happens?"
"Sometimes. The patient can survive with minimal impact. Some people are even born without one half of the brain and they are, typically, just fine."
"Why are you telling me all this?"
Helena lifted the two magnets, aligning them with one side of the brain each.
"We previously believed that Arthur's memories had been completely destroyed," Helena continued. "The metaphor here is that would mean Arthur was living with one half of his brain. He was, for all intents and purposes, stable, but missing part of himself. A part that he knew he missed, having once had it.
"However, the point is he could live like that."
"And now?"
Helena frowned.
"Your friend, Micah, is now suggesting that the Old Arthur is in fact still present in the brain, just laying dormant. Until recently, he could not interact with his New self. He could see everything that was happening…" She set the box in front of the right area of the brain. "But he could not describe or truly interact with it." She indicated the right side of the brain. "Like his corpus callosum had been severed, separating these two halves of himself."
Helena continued, "Which, again, would've been fine, something he could've lived with. But your friend now believes, and I worry that he is right, that Arthur's selves-the Old and the New-are not quite so separate." She ran her finger down the line again.
Ariadne blinked. "But what's wrong with that? Doesn't that mean he's just… full? Really himself?"
"It would be. If it were not two separate Arthurs."
Ariadne frowned. "Explain."
"As I said, logic and creativity are not exclusive to one side of the brain. There are bits and pieces of each in the other. But there are not any, none, similarities between Old Arthur and New Arthur. They are, for all intents and purposes… different people."
She lifted the magnets again. "If Old Arthur had stayed dormant and unresponsive, like this…" She touched the tips of the magnets together. "There would be peace in his mind. It would be one, controlling, or rather, ignoring, the other." She dragged one magnet down the table, the second one still attached and following. "He could live normally for the rest of his life.
"But we now believe that not only is Old Arthur resurfacing… He is fighting for control."
Helena broke the magnets apart and attempted to force them together.
"Just like you cannot recreate the corpus callosum and reconnect the two hemispheres of the brain, and like you cannot force two opposing magnets to stay in serenity with each other… You cannot combine the two Arthurs."
Ariadne sat in deep thought, pondering what Helena had just told her. "So you're saying…"
"If it was just New Arthur, he'd be fine," Helena murmured. "Or just Old Arthur. But Old Arthur is breaking through, forcing himself to join New Arthur in the conscious mind." She smiled darkly. "This is not Dissociative Personality Disorder. These are not just personalities. These are the same identities, with inherently different functions."
"Because Volkov has made Arthur a different person."
"Exactly," Helena confirmed. "With different goals, dreams, decisions. New Arthur sees the world very differently. I'm sure I do not have to offer you examples."
Ariadne scowled, thinking of how Arthur was behaving differently, with her, their friends, Bethany… Hell, he even looked different.
"Two people, in one mind…" Helena shook her head. "He faces only agony, if the two share one conscious mind."
"Mentally?"
"Physically too, I imagine," Helena said thoughtfully. "The brain was not made to host two people. Obviously I can't say for certain what is happening in his brain… But I imagine there could be dire things occurring. Blood clots, tumors… The brain trying to right itself, to block out one of the offending forces. In this case, I think the only safe thing to assume is that it is rebelling against the Old Arthur, the lesser one, the one that is pushing to get through. Setting up forces, whatever lone corner Old Arthur has been hiding…"
Helena touched the brain lightly. "The funny thing about memory is that we know very little about it. We can understand the basics; the process of encoding, retrieving… But as to the physical location, it's a mystery. The hippocampus seems to act as a train station for memory, but it is not the lone place for storage. Old Arthur is, essentially, an errant clot of memories. I doubt he is only sectioned off in one area of the brain. Especially now… He would be trying to insert himself in as many places as possible, in the hope that he will have enough control to make himself physically present."
Ariadne's mind went into overdrive, imagining Arthur waking up one day as his old self. She imagined the joy on his face, how he'd race to shave off that stupid beard, and then immediately set off to find her.
And then the revelation of Helena's words struck her.
"His brain is…"
"Essentially destroying itself," Helena agreed. "Keep in mind, this is mere conjecture. But I do believe Arthur is in very serious danger."
"What would happen, if…"
"If Old Arthur continued to break through?" Helena sighed. "Assuming his brain could physically handle it, the mental connotations are… alarming. Speech, thought, memory, vision… It could all be usurped, upended. No clear controller, two different points of view, desires… He would be insane. No chance of recovery."
Ariadne bit her lip. "Couldn't we just… just force one of them back?"
Helena smiled. "If only. To do so would require doing what Nikolai did in the first place, and then some. Nikolai only had to bury Old Arthur, creating a New one in the process. You would have to destroy the Old one, and hope that you left enough to have the New one. In the process of annihilating Old Arthur, you could sever his ability to function in different ways. He could become, essentially, a vegetable." She sighed. "Assuming, of course, that his brain could handle another hijacking like that. Which I very much doubt it could."
Ariadne's throat was dry. "What can I do?"
"What I've been training you to. Ariadne, it's time. If you are going to enter Arthur's mind, you will need to do it now."
"Now? But…" Ariadne shook her head. "I'm not ready!"
"No, you aren't," Helena agreed. "But this is your only shot. Now that your Arthur is beginning to break through… It won't be long before her creates enough damage to ensure he can never be repaired. Not you, not me… Not anyone."
"How about you?" Ariadne asked desperately. "You know exactly what needs to be done. Could you do it?"
Helena laughed. "Not at all! I have told you this, Ariadne. It's much easier to ruin the mind, to create chaos and upend it, as Nikolai did. The challenge is putting it back together. That requires someone familiar with the subject, who knows the subject enough to bring back the memories, to guide…"
Ariadne sighed, recognizing the truth in Helena's words. "I know."
"I am sorry."
"When?" Ariadne croaked. "How much time do I have?"
"I would wait no more than… forty-eight hours."
"That's just two days!"
"Long enough as it is. Arthur has implied that the memories are beginning to come more frequently, and judging by the physical reaction he had with Micah… Well, it sounds to me like your Arthur is getting close. He could burst through any day now, and shatter what little sanity he has left." Helena looked at her very seriously. "The smallest splinter could send it all crashing down. Then, he would be lost. And no amount of somnacin, no number of levels, not even Limbo… would bring him back."
Ariadne swallowed. "Oh, God…"
"Go home," Helena said gently. "Rest, take some time to process what I have just told you. Talk to your friends, and most importantly, Arthur. And then, when you have decided, call me. Remember, Ariadne; no matter if you fail or not, you are accompanying me to Russia, to find Nikolai."
On her way to Arthur and Micah's, she sent out the text: I'm telling him. Please come.
Ariadne knew they would understand, that she was finally going to confront Arthur, to tell him what she'd been doing. She needed the support from them now, to help her convince Arthur that this was something he needed. And to try to convince him that it wasn't just for her benefit.
Thinking along those lines, she suddenly realized what she really needed to show him. She took a quick detour, returning to her apartment.
Ariadne had barely knocked on the front door of Arthur's apartment when Micah opened it, looking solemn. His expression changed to one of concern when he saw her hopeless expression, the tears that had barely dried on her face.
"Ariadne," he murmured. "What... Are you okay?"
She sniffled. "Uh huh. It's just, uh... Helena told me some things..." She bit her lip, forcing herself to meet Micah's eyes. "It doesn't look good, Micah."
Micah immediately pulled her into a hug. She clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder, taking deep breaths in an effort to quench her tears. The sound of feet made her look up, peering over Micah's shoulder.
Arthur was facing her, hands in the pockets of his jeans, wearing a plain blue t-shirt.
"Hello," he said softly.
She twisted her face into a grimace. "Hey."
Micah let her go and she reluctantly did the same. Right on cue, Cobb stepped through the door behind her. He caught one glance at her face, and his turned to one of bewilderment.
"Wait," Ariadne said before he could speak. He swallowed his exclamation and nodded.
While Micah and Cobb went into the kitchen, Ariadne hesitantly approached Arthur, who was surveying the scene warily.
"What's going on?" He asked.
"There are things we need to talk about," Ariadne said gently. "And it isn't going to be fun, or pleasant, for any of us, but it needs to happen." He looked like he was going to speak, but she cut him off. "Please, Arthur. Just listen, please. You will get to give your opinion and make your choice, but... For now, just listen to me."
He studied her, taking in her watery eyes and quivering lip, and gave her one slow nod.
She exhaled. "Thank you." They continued to stare at each other, until Eames arrived.
"I've got half a bottle of whiskey, and..." He fumbled into his jacket pocket. "Two bars of chocolate. Enough provisions for this discussion?"
Ariadne half-laughed. "There isn't any thing that would be enough, but I appreciate your effort."
"I try," he said warmly. He kissed her on the cheek and went into the living room. Ariadne glanced at Arthur and noticed his raised eyebrows before he looked away, walking after Eames.
As soon as they were all settled (everyone cradling glasses of whiskey, save for Arthur, who continued to abstain from alcohol) Arthur spoke.
"What is this about?"
Everyone looked at Ariadne. She took a deep breath, and spoke.
She reminded Arthur of Helena, that Helena had been teaching her how to save him. Arthur calmly nodded, recalling the conversation where she'd told him this, the same one that had led to his self-stabbing. As she spoke, Ariadne recalled a small comment Arthur had made then that resonated now:
"He's not coming back."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I'm here, now. And I don't remember him at all."
Two halves, indeed.
Ariadne skated over the specifics, saying that she couldn't divulge the exact process, as the crux of the plan was that Arthur's unconscious didn't know how to thwart and attack her. He nodded in understanding.
"So you see," Ariadne finished. "I can save you. I can bring your memories back, and I can cure you of all your problems. Like the insomnia, and the headaches, and... well, the revulsion towards me, and Micah."
Arthur considered this. "But, you said... we could die. You, and me."
"But you said you didn't care," Micah interjected.
"I never said that," Arthur snapped. "I said that should I face death, I wouldn't fight, that I would accept it. This isn't anything like that. This would be knowingly going into something that could very well kill me."
"You'd have your memories back," Cobb said quietly. Ariadne glanced at him. She knew how torn he was, now that he could realize what having the Old Arthur back meant; once Arthur remembered his betrayal, he could very well lose his best friend, again.
Arthur looked at Ariadne. "And you know how I feel about that."
Her heart twisted, remembering his suggestion that they were better off without each other. "I remember. But that was then, and now..."
They noticed the way her face fell, how she looked down. Eames reached over and squeezed her hand.
"Ari?" He asked softly.
"What did Helena say?" Micah wondered.
Ariadne shook her head, turning to Arthur. This was his reality, after all. "Basically, you are a walking time bomb. Old Arthur is breaking down whatever confines Volkov put him in, chipping away at whatever separates him from you. If he breaks through, your brain could split. You can't exist together. You're two very different people, not personalities; one brain couldn't handle it. Your brain would literally shatter."
Silence fell. She ignored the shock and horror she could imagine on the others' faces and focused solely on the man she spoke of. He stared back at her, digesting her words.
"Why can't I push him back?" He wondered.
"Helena described it like memory," Ariadne said. "She doubts Old Arthur is just inhabiting one space of your brain, but he is in fact, several spaces. If we tried to bury him, we could bury those areas of your body he is beginning to have control of. You could lose your ability to function." She frowned. "She also compared the situation to magnets, and the... corpus callosum."
The Psychology majors all nodded in sudden understanding, while Cobb still looked confused. Ariadne raised an eyebrow, indicating she'd explain more later.
"There isn't really a choice then, is there?" Arthur said quietly. "I refuse to let you into my mind, and eventually, it destroys itself. I agree, and let you attempt to return the memories, and I die anyway."
"Maybe not-" Micah snapped, but Cobb shushed him, turning to Ariadne.
"What's the difference? Bringing back his memories your way- wouldn't that be like bringing the Old Arthur back into the front, essentially putting the two halves together again?"
Ariadne shook her head. "Volkov's separation was brutal and concise. He stripped the memories away, taking Old Arthur with them, and crafted a new one. I would bring back the memories, and Old Arthur, and... mesh them together."
"Create a brand new one?" Eames asked.
"Yeah."
"That's a lot of Arthurs," he commented. Arthur smirked.
"I don't want you to think you have no choice," Ariadne said, facing Arthur. "This isn't an extraction, or an inception. I will have to walk you through your mind, through everything. You need to want it, too."
He frowned. "I'm not sure I can do that. Not since..."
Since that fight in her apartment, where he'd decided he was better without her. Since that visit to Arlington, where he'd revealed that he was leaving so he could survive. He had broken himself from her, torn the connection between them, demolished any desire to keep them together. And he'd done so, in such a way, that he'd made it seem possible and the best option.
Ariadne looked at the other three. "Could you give us ten minutes?"
Micah and Cobb immediately stood. Eames was slower, more nervous. He gripped her hand.
"Is it safe?" He looked at Arthur.
"We'll wait in my room," Micah said. "That way you can have privacy, while we're close enough if..." He frowned. "Well, you know what I mean."
"Yes. Thank you," Ariadne said.
She and Arthur watched as the three disappeared down the hall. Ariadne waited until Micah's bedroom door had closed before rising to her feet and darting to the television, her purse swinging around her.
"What are you doing?" Arthur asked.
She reached into her bag, pulling out the DVD case. "Sit on the couch, please. There's something I'd like you to see." She waited until she heard him sink onto the cushions behind her before she pressed play.
On the screen, the Arthur from nearly two years previously smiled. "Hello, Ariadne. If you're watching this, then it means I died."
Ariadne slid to the side, folding her arms around her legs. On the couch, Arthur looked shocked, taking in the image of his past self with wide eyes.
Ariadne refused to watch the video. She'd only viewed it a handful of times, and each time had ended in calamity, with her a sobbing wreck. She couldn't be that weak girl now. Not when Arthur's life hung in the balance. She watched the real Arthur instead, as he stared at the television in silence.
"I feel like I could talk to you forever, but I'll stop now. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you; always. Bye, Ariadne."
The DVD shut off, and Ariadne turned off the television. She swallowed, twisting to face Arthur from the floor.
He was looking at his feet, hands in his hair, rocking softly back and forth. Alarm rushed through her, as she realized she might've triggered a memory in him, and she staggered to her feet, sprinting to his side.
"Arthur-"
He lifted his head, and her hopes were dashed. No recognition; not her Arthur. But there was something else...
"I loved you," he murmured.
"You did," she confirmed slowly. "And I loved you. Still do."
"Always?"
Her throat felt very thick. "Always."
He looked devastated. "I want so badly to be happy, Ariadne."
Ariadne looked away, her heart cracking. This was his rejection. This was him telling her that he was leaving, choosing whatever time he had left, until he succumbed to a long-postponed death that he welcomed...
His hands on her face forced her to look back at him.
"I see now," he murmured. "Maybe that's what it took. Their words, your emphatic expressions... They weren't enough. I had to see it from myself."
"See what?" She croaked.
Arthur looked sad. "That he loved you. That even now, he's crawling back to you, trying to survive, so he can see you again. To ask for your forgiveness, and..."
"And?"
He swallowed, his eyes shimmering. "To tell you that he loves you."
"He told me that he would try to survive," Ariadne said. "That he would try to come back to me. He promised that he would never leave me, that he'd always be with me."
Arthur nodded thoughtfully. "I think we can agree that he's keeping those promises."
Ariadne sobbed, and Arthur lifted her face again. They looked at each other. Ariadne memorized his face, the creases around his eyes, lone freckle on his cheek...
"He died for you once," Arthur whispered. "Do you think he would risk it again?"
She sobbed again, smiling. "Well, I think he just told us."
"'I don't regret a thing,'" Arthur quoted himself from the video.
Ariadne nodded, sniffling. "Yeah. Something like that."
They continued to stare at each other. Ariadne drank him in, wondering if this was it, if this was truly the end of them, no more loopholes, no more dreams or levels, that they would end their relationship here, in a dingy little apartment in Manhattan, the truth finally laid bare...
Very slowly, Arthur pressed his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes. The next, single, word he spoke froze her heart and opened a new door, into a blistering, unknown future:
"Okay."
review, please
hopefully all that wacky psychology and magnet metaphors made sense. if not, don't be afraid to send me a PM. I'll explain as best as I can.
next chapter: and we enter Arthur's mind, and all that entails. note: the character POV for the next chapter or two will jump from character to character.