A/N: …and when I looked up, it was two months later. Sorry about that delay, everyone. Thanks so much for those of you who've left reviews- you keep me going and thinking about this story, even when I'm at work, stressing over emails.

In fact, I've written most of this at work so if there's a mistake let me know. I'll clean this chapter up a bit later today.

A lot happens here. I didn't want to focus too much on the romance stuff- I see this story as more of a mystery/drama fic- but it kind of went in that direction. Let me know what you think! By the next chapter, they'll be getting ready to go into the dream. Fun times ahead, I tell you!

Chapter 19

Ana finished reading the sheaf of papers that Arthur put together for them to read and let out the breath she'd been holding. It was a lot to take in; there were passages taken from a draft of her brother's book and Arthur's sharp analysis of each one.

My brother's thoughts.

She felt an odd mixture of pride and sadness. Her brother was so smart and so clever and it stung to know she would never really know him now. Even if her memories returned, Matthew was gone. She would never again get the chance to talk to him.

She shook her head and frowned, trying to focus on Arthur's point instead of the sudden sense of loss she felt. More than ever, it was not the time to get sidetracked.

I can read the rest of Matthew's work later, she thought and pushed her feelings aside.

Arthur had distilled her brother's writing into simple concise terms, drilling down to the core idea behind each theory. A part of her, the part that wasn't scared of what he was telling them now, was impressed with how quickly he had evaluated her brother's words and what that meant to their job.

She would have been more impressed if there wasn't such a glaring oversight.

"Twins featured heavily in your brother's writing," Arthur said, after a moment. "Being part of a set like that, spending your life as a twin; it was part of the lens through which you saw the world. Dualities, a world of balance… It made you who you are. When Matt died, it became the only way you saw the world. It consumed you."

Not quite right, but almost.

Ana could feel both men staring at her as she placed the papers on the counter next to her unfinished dinner and she looked up, first at Eames and then at Arthur.

He had freshened up and was now sitting at the end of the counter, near the entrance to the kitchen. The pale blue shirt he wore was newly pressed and he had shaved and combed his hair back. His face was once again all hard lines and stern angles, and there was no trace of emotion in his dark, clear eyes. His armor was perfectly in place once more.

Arthur was back in control of himself.

He'd come to them as they were having dinner and Ana hadn't wanted to wait to hear what he had to say. Eames had been annoyed but she was glad he hadn't pressed. If Arthur sought them out, if Arthur had come to herafter his confession, then whatever he had to say was important.

Still…

She understood how Eames felt. For a moment, just during the brief time they spent alone together in the kitchen, it had been nice to pretend. Ana had almost been able to trick herself into believing they were having a normal dinner, normal conversation- that the stolen kisses and warm smiles, the brush of his hand against her cheek and the sound of his laughter, were part and parcel of their entwined lives.

The need to belong to someone, to have a shared experience, was growing stronger. Ana was beginning to look forward to the future. She was willing to try and carve out a life for herself in the aftermath.

Focus.

But right now Eames was a distraction; something that pulled her mental focus away from what was really important. The more she was around him, knowing what his lips felt like on hers, knowing how soft the skin just underneath his jaw felt, the less she could think clearly.

"It's why the paintings you had Eames create were so significant- why you remembered them," Arthur went on and if he'd noticed that she drifted off for a second, he didn't mention it. "They were tied to your emotions towards Matt. It's likely there'll be representations of these ideas, these concepts, in the dream. They may not necessarily be in the same form, but they will be there."

Eames snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. He was standing beside Ana and had finished reading far more quickly than she had, murmuring to himself as he did.

"Thank you for stating the obvious, Arthur," he said. "Clearly if Ana remembered those paintings, they would appear in her mind in some way. We can speculate all we want now but we'll have to improvise when we go under. We'll simply have to keep our eyes open for how these concepts are interpreted and react accordingly."

"Based on Matt's writing we do have a starting point," Arthur said. He frowned, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Just knowing that they'll appear won't prepare us. If you know it's going to rain, you bring an umbrella- not hope you can outrun the weather."

"I'm not saying we go under without a plan," Eames began testily but Ana shook her head and turned to him.

"Eames, please," she urged him. "Just hear him out."

He closed his mouth with an audible snap. It seemed to take some effort for him to lower his shoulders and relax his stance but when he looked back at her, his mouth quirked up in a small smile.

"Of course, love," he said in a calmer tone. He drew forward, sliding his arm around her waist. He pressed his lips against her temple in a quick kiss before settling beside her.

Blood rushed to her cheeks and Ana forced herself not to jerk back or move away. It took everything she had at that moment to look over and meet Arthur's gaze without flinching. If anyone else were watching, it would have seemed that Arthur barely reacted but she saw the way his mouth tightened. She could see the dawning realization in his eyes.

For a moment, Ana felt angry: at Eames for flaunting her, for using her to get a dig back at Arthur without saying a word. At Arthur for…

For not reacting.

For continuing to pretend.

"You think you know what the representations are going to be, don't you?" she asked. She angled her body towards Arthur and felt Eames' arm tense. "What else did you find in my brother's work? What do you think we'll find in my dream?"

Arthur glanced briefly at Eames- a momentary flicker of triumph crossed over his features- and then nodded back at Ana. "The underlying theme here is twinship, the idea of a dual nature, dual roles. The sanctuary, the obstacle, the throne and the citadel- we have to be prepared to encounter their analogs. After all they're only part of the complete whole, only one side of the concept they embodied.

"For example, a sanctuary is generally known as a resting place but according to your brother, it could also be seen as a place of worship or a shrine. A place where dead things are kept and revered."

Ana shivered involuntarily and Eames tightened his grip around her. Arthur's face hardened as he noted the action but said nothing about it.

He went on. "According to Matt, its counterpart is the battlefield. The living obstacle could mean various things but its equivalent is what Matt called the dead blessing. The shadowed throne and the laughing slave. The citadel and the grave. We might see them as they are in the paintings- a house of flowers, a glass tree, a dark throne and a castle- but they might be embodied by a projection or something completely different."

Arthur sighed heavily. He sounded tired, weary down to his bones.

"But you asked me what I think," he said. He looked down at his hands on the counter. "You didn't play in theory; that was Matt's way. You're literal. You think in concrete terms. So I think the living obstacle will show up as someone you see as a protector, someone alive who you trust. It might be Peter- you were fairly close before he left the FBI. The dead blessing could be either one of your parents- maybe your father or even Matt himself."

Ana stared at Arthur but he kept his head down.

"The sanctuary might be your childhood home and the battlefield is probably where Lewis took you. The throne and the slave…" Arthur trailed off and looked up.

To Ana's surprise, he shrugged.

"Yeah, that one's a mystery," he said with a faint smile. She noted that his dimples didn't appear but his eyes seemed a little clearer.

"And I guess the citadel is the castle that Eames is building and the grave is what it sounds like," Ana said. "Matthew's grave, maybe?"

Arthur nodded. "That's as much as I could figure out but it's a start. I'll do more digging though. I'm sure I missed something- maybe it's in the paintings, some clue that you didn't even know you were leaving behind."

Eames stirred next to her. "You can look in the original sketches too," he said and Ana was relieved that he seemed to be trying to rein himself in. "Ana was heavily involved in the planning process. There are things I left out in the finished product that were in the first drafts."

"Great," Arthur said. He stood up. "I'm going to-"

"Wait, Arthur," Ana said. She stood up and moved away from Eames, trying as gracefully as she could to put some space between them. "Arthur, there's a problem."

Arthur turned around at the door with a frown. "A problem with what?"

"The idea of duality," she said. "It's not… I don't think that's the way we should be thinking about all of this."

She glanced back at Eames, who had walked up behind her, and tried to look apologetic before facing Arthur again. There was no way he wouldn't consider the distance she put between them a sign; Eames watched people too closely to think she'd done so carelessly.

Too close, too fast, she thought. I need space. I need to think.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur said. His frown grew deeper. "Matt wrote all about duality. Twins, Ana- the book was really about your relationship. It was…"

Ana studied his face and she could tell he was struggling to understand where she was trying to lead him.

You're almost there.

Not quite right, but almost.

"But that was Matthew's book. His point of view, not mine," she said slowly. "You were right when you said I was literal. I think in concrete details. Things I can see and witness. You see, twinship in itself is a theory. It's an idea."

She held up her hands so that her bandaged palms were facing the ceiling, side by side, as if she were holding something out to Arthur.

"Duality is about balance, right?" she said. "Making sure the scales are even. That's what I got from Matthew's text- that one can have a dual nature that essentially composes a whole. But if we're entering my mind then we need to bring that theory back down to the literal. I think you're on the right track. We'll likely encounter those four main concepts from Eames' paintings, as well as their equivalents but Arthur, you're missing the obvious."

"Which is?"

Ana turned her hands up so that her palms were facing each other, a few inches apart.

"It's not about duality," she said. "Duality implies balance and I don't think that was my concern. Remember what I was so afraid of, Arthur? Think about it. Turn the concept of duality on its head, make it literal, make it physical. You get-"

But it was Eames who spoke next; it was Eames who said what Ana understood from the onset.

"A mirror image."

Without really being conscious of it, Ana reached up and touched the locket on her necklace.

###

With trembling fingers, Ana took the small chisel and inserted the edge into the opening of the locket, balancing it as best she could on the bathroom counter. She raised the hammer with her other hand and then stopped.

After a moment, she put the hammer back down and drew in a deep but shaky breath.

A mirror image.

The moment she heard the words, Ana knew with absolute certainty what her totem hid. She had grabbed Eames and begged him for a tool, something that would reveal whatever it was her necklace hid.

To her gratitude, he seemed perfectly willing to wait outside as she forced open her locket. He'd broken the chain using strong clippers from his supplies and for the first time, she'd been able to hold her necklace in her hand and really study the locket.

Ana looked around the counter, hoping to find something ceramic and picked up a soap dish, weighing it in her hand. Carefully, so as not to ruin the locket, she dragged it across the white surface of the dish.

Likely pure gold, she thought, looking at the golden streak left behind on the dish. An heirloom maybe. Carefully maintained over years.

M & M

She stared at the engraving, noting the clean edges, sharp and clear against the soft surface.

Miranda and Matthew.

The engraving was a new addition to the locket.

When did I get this done? Before or…

Or after Matthew died?

She touched the hammer on the counter and picked it up again, curling her fingers around the handle. The chisel was placed back into the small opening but again, Ana hesitated.

She forced herself to breathe again, feeling dizzy and almost faint.

Something inside of her rebelled against opening the locket- like a siren going off in her mind. Even the sensation of holding the necklace in her hand felt wrong. It was a deep and jarring sense that something was amiss in the world around her and Ana was unnerved by it.

My totem.

My link to reality and I'm about to break it.

But now she needed it for proof that they weren't going in the wrong direction. It seemed a small sacrifice to make, to open what couldn't be opened before, so she could make sure that Eames and Arthur were prepared to step into her mind. She felt no regret at breaking the chain but her hands just wouldn't stop shaking.

"Ana?"

Eames' voice outside the door was muffled but she could hear the concern in his tone. It was enough to help her steady her hands and she adjusted her stance, bending slightly at the waist to get better traction.

And, truth be told, she didn't want to look at herself in the mirror above the counter space.

"I'm fine, I'll be fine," she called out.

"If you need me …"

Ana smiled to herself. His voice, knowing that he was just outside the door, ready to help was reassuring. Eames seemed perfectly willing to dive back into the former nature of their relationship and his presence was so solid, so undeniable, it was overwhelming.

He could be my new life.

But she knew that meant there was no place for Arthur. It was one or the other, full stop. They could hold it together for jobs, for relatively short periods of time, yes. Eames and Arthur were professionals, after all.

But beyond dreams?

Perhaps Arthur would have accepted Eames' presence. Though he may have seemed inflexible, he was fairly agreeable and far more easy-going than he let on. But Eames would never tolerate Arthur having a major role in her life. Not when he likely suspected how she'd felt-

Loved. I loved Arthur.

-about the other man.

But then again, Eames had been the one to offer her a future in the first place. And it was so important, essential to Ana that she have a future. With no past, she had nothing else.

If Arthur were to say something, anything about the day after tomorrow, I…

"Still wouldn't know," she said out loud. "You still wouldn't know what to do so stop thinking about the wrong things and focus!"

"Alright in there?" She heard Eames knock once on the door and Ana jerked a little, startled.

"Perfect," she said.

Without further delay, Ana lifted the hammer and brought it down on the chisel.

One.

Two.

Three.

The locket broke apart and she let the pieces fall to the counter, putting the hammer down beside them.

I was right, she thought as she stared at what was left of her totem.

"Matthew and Miranda," she muttered. "Mirror images. Turned backwards and over like negatives."

Boy. Girl.

Dead. Alive.

Word. Deed.

She reached down and touched her broken locket. There were no pictures, no smiling faces or happy memories. Instead she'd kept her greatest fear wrapped around her neck without a working clasp, close to her chest.

Her locket had held two small mirrors that faced each other when closed-

"I'd find you looking at your reflection sometimes as if you didn't recognize yourself."

"I think you were trying to find what was hiding behind your own face."

-and now the mirrors were shattered.

###

"That was a stupid thing you did, you know. Destroying your totem like that."

At the sound of Arthur's voice at the doorway of her bedroom, Ana tugged the sleeves of her pajama top over her hands like a child and looked down at her bare feet. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, facing the wardrobe.

"I wanted to prove I was right," she said, curling her toes against the cold floor. "We're dealing with opposites, not counterparts. It's a minor distinction but important."

"I know," Arthur said. "But it was a dumb move. We didn't need proof like that- I already believed you."

"Did you?" Ana said, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Arthur smiled mirthlessly. He had rolled his sleeves up again and his bare forearms flexed as he pushed himself off the door frame he'd been leaning on and walked into her bedroom, closing the door behind him.

After breaking her totem, she'd shown Eames and Arthur what lay inside and they'd gone back to the studio to work out a viable plan while in the dream.

At least, that's what Ana thought they did.

She'd been sent away, albeit gently, because they couldn't have her know the parameters of the dream. Though she was a willing subject, they still couldn't risk her projections cutting the dream short. Arthur would be trapped in the deepest level of her mind if that happened, not to mention the threat of splitting her consciousness apart at its core.

The truth was that Ana was more afraid of the former than the latter. She could accept the repercussions for herself, but not for Arthur. She would arm him with everything she could, every certainty she could give him, to make sure of it.

Except for calling it all off. I can't do that, even for him.

So she'd spent the last few hours back in the library, reading bits and pieces from Eames' treasure trove of books. But now it was late and Ana's eyes felt raw. Though she'd taken a nap earlier, she needed rest and had just finished getting ready for bed when Arthur appeared.

"You know I believed you," Arthur said. "I always do."

"Then I needed to prove it to myself," Ana said. She shrugged one shoulder. "Besides, my totem meant nothing really. I'll find something else in the morning or not, it doesn't matter."

"It does matter. I don't want you losing your grip on reality, I've seen it happen before," he said. For a brief moment, Arthur looked annoyed but then his shoulders sagged and he shook his head. "But what's done is done. There's nothing else for it."

He sat down on the bed beside her and then passed his hand over his face. "Christ, Ana, are you sure you want this? Are you sure? The risks outweigh the rewards- you have to realize this by now."

"I don't want you or Eames to get hurt," Ana said, turning towards him. "But I want to try at the very least. If I can remember one thing about my family, about my brother, it will have been worth it. And then I'll move on, I swear. But I can't do it without you."

Arthur leaned his elbows on his knees and raised his head. She could see the ends of his hair curling against the nape of his neck, coming loose from the gel he'd used to tame them.

"I was seventeen when I finally learned how to say no to you for the first time," he said. "You had me wrapped around your little finger for years. Even now, saying no to you is hard so why do you think I'd back out now?"

"I know you won't. You're a man of your word," Ana said. She felt warm and her heart seemed to beat a little harder. "Arthur, the gentleman. Always willing to help a lady in need."

He smiled. It was a little rueful, a little resigned, but sweet. It was a genuine smile, one that reached his eyes.

"Sure, if that's what you want to believe," he said. "But the simplest explanation is that I would do almost anything you asked me to because I love you."

She blinked in surprise, suddenly wide awake.

"You just…" But she couldn't finish her thought, didn't know how to respond to such a casually dropped bomb.

"I wasn't entirely truthful when I said I came to you for dream-share because I knew you wanted more out of life," he said with an even, steady voice, as if he hadn't just tipped her world off its axis. "That was part of it. But the truth, the real truth of it was that I just wanted to be with you again. I denied myself for years but a man's gotta give in sometimes, right?

"But then I fucked up. Got you into messes I should have been able to avoid. And I was a coward."

He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and then chuckled sadly. "That's all I came here to say really. Just that I can't believe you broke your goddamn totem to make a point. And that I love you. I probably always will."

She laughed almost helplessly, knowing she sounded almost hysterical but she couldn't help it.

"Was that the first time you've said that to me?" she asked.

He nodded slowly. "First time I've said it to your face. Long overdue, though. Sorry."

"So why now?" Ana asked. "I mean..."

"I'm a realist, or at least I'd like to think so. I can see the writing on the wall," Arthur said. "I just might not get the chance later, that's all. You and Eames- I've made my peace with it. But I thought I should just say it out loud, once and for all."

That snapped Ana out of her shock.

"I'm not with Eames," Ana said firmly. "God, it's been three days? Four? How can you expect… Arthur, look at me."

She turned and drew one leg up on the bed so she could face him fully. He sat up and turned towards her with a grim set to his features.

"I kissed him," she said. She looked into his eyes, trying to make him understand. "He kissed me. That's all. I haven't planned my life out beyond tomorrow."

"I know that, I just meant-" Arthur stopped and then smiled, self-conscious. He seemed younger then, almost boyish. "I don't want there to be any confusion about where I stand."

"You keep getting me wrong, Arthur," she said. She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "You know me so well but when it comes to how I feel, what I want, you just keep getting me wrong. I wish you'd stop letting fear cloud your perspective. I wish you could look at me and see just me."

"That's never been a problem," Arthur said. He ducked his head like a grown man suddenly turned into a child, making Ana shake her head at him.

"Then listen to me. Don't just hear my voice, really listen this time."

Arthur nodded, his eyes widening slightly as he raised his head to look at her again. He looked so serious and solemn at that moment that Ana couldn't help but sigh. She slid her hand down his arm, taking his hand in hers and holding on as best she could.

"Nothing is set in stone. I honestly don't know how I feel about Eames or you. It's all mixed up and I need some time to sort it all out. I don't know what my future looks like but, Arthur, I know I want you there with me. No matter what happens, I need you there with me."

She shifted closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body.

"Eames isn't shy about what he wants," she said. "But I need you to tell me what you want. Arthur, tell me what you want."

Arthur seemed to hesitate and she could see the conflict in his eyes, in the way his brow wrinkled and mouth turned down.

"Be selfish," she said. "For once, please. Just be selfish."

"I want you to be safe," Arthur said quietly. He turned away again, staring at the wall across the way. "I want to turn back time and keep Matt away from what happened. I want you to get your memories back without hating me. I want you to be happy."

She waited for more but as the silence grew longer, heavier, she realized it was all he was going to admit to.

That's it then.

He'll never give in.

Disappointed but not surprised, Ana nodded. She swallowed down her frustration and decided to accept Arthur's words for what they were.

It's enough.

She bent forward with her chin on his shoulder, putting her arm on his lap and circling his waist so that she was practically leaning on him to stay upright. Despite his long, lean frame, Arthur was sturdy and strong- he was solid and warm in her arms and Ana thought-

You can be my rock.

She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against his jaw, and took in a deep breath, taking in his familiar, comforting scent.

This can be enough.

I won't push for more than you can give.

"Okay, Arthur," she said dejectedly. She just couldn't help but be sad. He loved her… but the words were all he could offer and she would take it for the gift it was. "I don't know why you don't see how good you are but you deserve-"

"I want a chance."

For a moment, the words didn't make sense. Ana opened her eyes and sat up, drawing back a little but then his hand gripped her arm, keeping her in place so that she had to stay pressed against him. He looked back at her, earnest and open, and she could feel the shift of his muscles as he moved.

"I want my chance," he repeated. He looked small and uncertain as he spoke next. "If you'll have me."

Thank you, Arthur.

Without saying a word, Ana leaned forward and placed a small, shy kiss against the corner of his mouth; she was afraid that he would change his mind and leave her again or push her away, but he didn't. Instead he let out a breath and then turned, tilting his head so that he could brush his lips against her cheek.

She shivered at the sensation, at the barely-there touch of an almost-kiss, and then she felt his mouth slide over hers.

It was slow and gentle, maddeningly so, the way he kissed her.

Her heart beat a swift hummingbird's pace in her chest as he let go of her arm and reached up to run his fingertips over the side of her face. She shivered again as she felt him, sweet and warm and perfect, sucking gently on her lip and she made a small noise of pleasure when he pulled her closer.

The room seemed to grow smaller, so much so that Ana felt as if she were surrounded by Arthur. She could smell him, taste him, hear him and Ana wanted nothing more to be lost in him.

She wanted more. But all too soon though, Arthur leaned back, shifting slightly so that he could look down at her face.

"You should get some rest," he said.

Ana blinked.

"Are you kidding me?" she asked, incredulously. "Rest is the last thing I-"

He pressed his finger against her lips and she fell silent, seeing the heat in his dark eyes and the flush in his cheeks. His breath was slightly ragged and she could feel his other hand at the small of her back, aware of his palm against her bare skin, right above the waistband of her shorts.

He's just as undone as I am, she thought with some satisfaction.

"You need to get some sleep," he said. His voice was hoarse and low as he traced her bottom lip with the tip of his finger. "And I need to finish up with Eames. If I don't leave now, I don't think I'll be able to later."

"Okay. You should go," Ana said.

Arthur sat still for a moment and she knew he didn't want to leave. It made her smile to see the expression on his face and know what he was feeling.

She reached up and cupped the sides of his face, running her thumbs over his dimples. "You're not getting up."

"You're making it very difficult for me to leave," he said, his smile growing wider.

Ana pressed her lips against his in a quick kiss before shifting backwards, letting him go completely. Arthur huffed out a small laugh and then sat up, straightening his shirt. When he got to his feet, he smoothed down his pants and glanced at the door.

Slowly, she could see him rebuilding his walls, brick by brick. He looked like a man readying himself for a fight and it made her chest hurt, knowing that he saw Eames as a threat.

Because he is, Ana thought.

She looked down at her hands, at the bandages on her palms and pressed her lips together. She would have to make a choice eventually and she wondered what she would have done before, if Matthew hadn't died. If Eames and Arthur had stayed in her life.

Which one would I have chosen?

"Eames is planning to pick Yusuf up at around nine tomorrow morning," Arthur said. "But we don't have to go under until you're ready. If you want to sleep in…"

"No," Ana said. "I want to get it over with. I don't want to wait."

"Then we won't wait," Arthur said softly, "if that's what you want."

He bent down and kissed her on the cheek before moving away again. "Sleep now," he said. "We'll be in the studio if you need anything."

The door closed behind her but Ana didn't move. She stared at the space where Arthur had been, suddenly feeling empty and cold.

###

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