DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.

Little nervous about posting this, so thanks for reading! Special thanks to Lazarus76 and ELi Shikiyori for helping me with the development and review of this chapter. Please, please review if you have a spare minute. It means a lot to hear your comments.


Arthur didn't want to look.

He was terrified of what he might see. But he couldn't tear his eyes away.

He was the first one to see her petite body hit the ground.

"...Ariad-"

A second gunshot rang from behind him. Hearing a grunt, Arthur looked up, just to see Fischer's hands fly to his chest before he fell backwards, hitting the ground with a harder thump.

Arthur couldn't move. Paralysed in fear, he could only hear the movement behind him.

"Listen to me." He heard Cobb's strong voice speak from behind him. "You have ten seconds to run. Work for any of the Fischer family again, and we will find you. Get out of our streets, and you won't have any problems."

Sounds of frantic footsteps errupted from in front, Fischer's men running. Running away. Pure cowards, only relying on their master for commands. Now their boss was dead, it would be pure chaos. When the footsteps died down, Arthur could hear Cobb behind him whisper to Eames, just loud enough for him to hear.

"...Kill them."

There was a hesitant pause from Eames, seeing Arthur's frozen form. Regaining himself, Arthur heard him command the others to follow him. He saw their figures running past him, a faint blur of colours running past. It wouldn't be long before gunshots were echoing in the air.

Arthur's hands began shaking. Furiously snapping himself from his daze, he ran towards the two bodies, skidding to the ground and landing on his knees, the mud and damp grass staining his clothing.

It was bad. He knew that even before he'd had a close look at her. But the think, red liquid quickly spreading across the large hole of torn fabric in her dress confirmed his fears. Her eyes were shut, but he could hear her quickened breaths, her gentle gasps of pain. He reached down and as gently as he could, grasped her torso, lifting her up onto his lap, where he began to cradle her weak body.

"Look at me. Ariadne, look at me," he demanded. His voice was breaking, shaking uncontrollably.

Slowly but surely, Ariadne began to open her eyes, her eyelashes fluttering and her lips parting just slightly.

"Arthur," she breathed, catching her eyes with his. Her beautiful brown eyes were tinted with fear.

He nodded, his eyes scraping up and down her body, desperately avoiding the mangled, disgusting, fearful sight of the gunshot wound. "I'm here. Fuck, I'm sorry-"

A sharp gasp of pain escaped her trembling lips as she looked down, her eyes narrowed. "Shit."

"Don't look," he instructed, gently holding her neck with his hand, trying to support her. "Don't worry. Don't panic, we'll get you to a hospital." He began rambling, his voice the only source of help he could find. "Everything will be okay-"

"-Arthur-" she breathed.

"You'll be fine." He reached down and gently brushed her skin to evaluate the damage. It was a move he instantly regretted, as soon as he touched her wound, a small hiss escaped her lips. He pulled away quickly, a large feeling of helplessness wash through him.

Ariadne shook her head, her breathing quickly becoming laboured. "Arthur. Don't, really. It's-"

"No!" he suddenly snapped, his expression angry. "I brought this on you. This happened because of me, and I'm going to fix it."

She shook her head, weakly. "I... I brought this on myself, Arthur. I deserve...this."

"No, you don't," Arthur replied, barely leaving a second between their voices. He knew, as much as he wanted to deny it, that time was short. "You do not deserve this. Fischer deserved this, but you don't."

"It...really...hurts," she gasped, her hand quickly flying to the blood covered fabric.

Arthur frowned, knowing gunshot wounds too well. Knowing that there was nothing he could do for her. "I know." Grabbing her hand, he let her squeeze it as tightly as she wanted, understanding the pain she was in would be excruciating.

"I need to find someone to help-" he said, his head snapping up. It was pointless, he knew, but his eyes searched the area, still determined to find a way to help her. A weak tug on his sleeve forced him to look down, where Ariadne's hand grasped the material.

Her expression was gentle, calm almost. "...Don't," she assured. "It's okay."

Anger quickly spread throughout his form, unable to understand how calm she was. How accepting she was. "How can you be giving up so easily?" he spat. "Doesn't it matter that you're leaving me?" He didn't mean to be so blunt, so careless in his words. But his mind was too busy to organise his words to his thoughts.

Her gaze softened. "It's alright, Arthur," she said, softly. "There's nothing to do."

Slumping slightly, Arthur grew quiet. Swallowing, he cradled her body tighter to himself. "...I don't know what I can do to help you," he admitted, hateful of how weak and useless he sounded.

"...You don't have to do anything."

Arthur lay on his back, staring down at the figure on his chest, who was tracing small patterns on his skin absentmindedly. He couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe how he'd been so lucky to find her. The small things they shared together. Laughter, kisses, even silence were all reminders of how drab and hateful his world had been before she'd entered it.

"Tell me about your childhood."

"It's nothing interesting," she replied, simply shrugging off the subject.

"I'm sure that's not true," he assured, running his hand softly down the bare of her back. "Regardless, I'd love to hear."

"Well..." She rolled onto her side, propping her head up onto her hand. Arthur watched in fascination, the way she moved, the way she spoke. Everything mesmerized him."I was born in Seattle. It was me, my Dad, and my two younger brothers. Darren and Peter."

"Where was your Mom?"

"She left after Peter was born."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Honestly, I think we were better off without him." A deep sigh errupted from her chest. "Anyway, my Dad always wanted me to be a teacher." From the way her small nose suddenly crinkled in disgust, Arthur could tell her dislike for the idea was quite strong. A small, amused grin spread on his face. She continued, unaware of his reaction."But I was really set on being a painter. I loved art. I attended some classes, and you know what?" A quiet moment was shared before she spoke again, a little smaller than before. "...I was good. I enjoyed it. Darren always wanted to be a Doctor."

"What about Peter?" Arthur asked, his genuine interest leading the subject.

"Dentist. Seriously. Of all the 'effing jobs you can get, he wanted to be a dentist." She shook her head, her expression a picture of astonishment. "Crazy. Anyway, I suppose that's a little irrelevant. Things were good for a while, we were...happy."

The way her face fell told Arthur that the tale was beginning to turn, probably to places she didn't want it to. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand, gently entwining his fingers with hers. "...What happened?"

"When I was around seventeen, my Mom showed up. She was really angry. Started saying all this stuff about how we were her kids too, and she deserved us. I knew Dad couldn't fight her case, so I ran. Tried to get Darren and Peter to come with me, but they refused. So I left and came to the city. But money was hard to get and..." She turned her head and caught his eyes. "...I guess you know the rest."

"You don't know what happened to them?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't regret leaving, though. I think...I think it was better to leave a good life early, than to let it turn into a bad one. Am I a coward? Probably. But I never wanted to see my family unhappy."

"I don't think you're a coward. People have to fight for themselves, Ariadne. We can't control that." He tilted his head up, staring at the ceiling. "I'll never know why Cobb chose his fate with Fischer. But I do know he'll never stop until he's finished."

Ariadne paused, before asking the question that Arthur had been dreading. "What about you? What about your childhood."

"It was nice while it lasted." Seeing the confusion in her narrowed eyes, Arthur explained sadly. "My family died in a car crash when I was eight."

Allowing it to sink in, Arthur waited a moment before Ariadne spoke. "Oh Arthur," she breathed. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It couldn't be stopped." Inhaling a deep breath, Arthur shut his eyes, the vivid images flashing in his head. "My Mom, Dad, baby brother and I were on our way back from dinner. We were celebrating my father's promotion at work. We collided with an oncoming runaway cab. Unavoidable." He opened his eyes once more, the light gentle enough not to blind him. "The only reason I survived is because I was thrown from the car."

"Do you think about it a lot?" Ariadne asked, her voice quiet. Unsure.

"Not anymore. I used to. I used to have nightmares." He turned his head, catching her eyes again. Seeing the sudden sorrow and sympathy she was gazing at him with, he offered her a small smile, never allowing it to fully reach his eyes. "I try not to remember their deaths. I try to remember their lives. The only rememberence of the accident are a few scars."

Ariadne was silent for a moment, her eyes roaming his face. "...Can I see?"

Nodding, Arthur didn't say a word. He simply rolled onto his front, and let his head fall onto his arms, exposing his long remembered scar. A large, ugly angled line ran from the top of his neck down to just under his shoulder. Just out of his sight, but not out of mind. Not yet. He watched Ariadne's light hand reach over, gently running the tips of her fingers over the nape of his neck.

"What are these from?" she asked, her voice quiet.

"Glass. Probably broken metal," he softly replied. "I used to have some burns, but they've pretty much faded."

"Oh." She gently ran her fingers over the dark line, a movement so gentle, so sincere, Arthur let his eye lids slowly fall until they were closed. Completely focused on Ariadne's touch. Nobody knew about the accident or the scars, not even Cobb. Arthur knew that Ariadne would probably never understand why he'd never told anyone about it before her, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she did. Each and every secret, memory and sadness he had, he was willing to pour out to her, something that he would never do to anyone else. He felt her hand move across his neck, a warm feeling spreading down his spine. Moving her fingers over the broken skin, she leaned over and softly kissed the end of the scar, her lips tracing the line lightly in a ghost of a kiss. Arthur lazily smiled and opened his eyes, only to become confused at the image before him. A few small tears had made their way onto Ariadne's cheek as she bit her lip, anxiously.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, his brow furrowing in a mixture of curiousity and concern.

Ariadne sniffed and quickly wiped away her moist cheeks. "It's just...I don't get it. How can someone who's been through as much as you...still be you?"

Arthur pushed himself up from the mattress and quickly wrapped his arms around her petite shoulders, allowing her small body to mould into his in a sad slump.

He spoke gently. "I'm not the person who killed my family." He kissed her cheek lightly. "You're not your Mom. We're our own people. Despite what we've seen or done, we can't let that form us. It wouldn't be right. We have our own lives, and we'll have our own futures."

Pulling away, Ariadne's eyes flickered toward his, her cheeks now wet with moisture. It was an awful sight to Arthur, but a her pretty eyes simply shone even more with the tears brimming. She whispered softly, "Maybe...we could be part of each other's future."

He had to restrain himself from telling her that's exactly what he wanted. He simply nodded, tracing her tears with the end of his thumb. "I hope that's a possibility." He leaned in to kiss her once more, catching her lips and letting his hands return to her hips, pulling her closer to him.

"...I...love...you...so...much," he whispered into her lips between kisses.

He could feel her smiling into his mouth as they both disappeared under the sheets for the second time that night, not to surface until they had gained spent bodies and a reason to sleep.

"This isn't fair." His voice was bitter, his eyes angry. "Neither of us did anything wrong."

"It's okay," she said, gently. Her face growing pale. "You'll be fine."

He shook his head, completely stubborn. "No, I won't. The past few days with you have been more bearable than any other time in the past several years."

Ariadne's eyes narrowed, confusion lacing her expression. Her breaths becoming more shallow by the second. "Doesn't it...bother you...that part...of it was...a lie?"

"No," he said, complete honesty filling his every fibre. "No, it doesn't."

In the distance, more gunshots could be heard. Arthur felt Ariadne's body tense at the sound. He pulled her into him, holding her, comforting her.

Ariadne bit her bottom lip, her eyes quickly squeezing shut in another wave of pain. "I really am sor-"

"Don't," he said, not wanting her breaths to be wasted on unwanted apologies. He didn't care, not at that moment. He wanted her to live, not to feel guilty for what she was forced into. "I know," he assured, tracing a light thumb down her cheek. "You're so brave."

Arthur bit into his tongue, so hard that he could taste the metallic blood in his mouth. It was cold, freezing almost, but Arthur couldn't feel it. He began to feel numb, blunt with the realisation of what was happening. He was losing her.

"I love you, you know," he managed to bite out.

Ariadne let a weak smile trace her face. "I know. I love you, too."

A sudden breath errupted from her chest, her eyes squeezing shut in pain. Arthur grasped her tightly, hushing her gently.

"It's okay. Just hold on a little bit longer, for me."

He knew she couldn't hold on. It was a stupid, selfish thing to ask. A few moments later, barely just a few seconds had passed before her breaths slowed. He caught her eyes, both sets meeting in a wanting gaze. She looked at him, an almost sympathetic look upon her face before she broke away, her shoulders gently falling.

Her eyes slowly slipped shut and her last breath floated from her body, allowing the silence to settle between the two. It was a moment or so before Arthur realised that she had gone.

He blinked, his arms tightening around her body. His chest began to hurt.

"No no no no..." He began mumbling mindlessly. "Come back to me. Please. Please," he pleaded, unashamed of how weak he sounded. A sharp stinging sensation started at the back of his eyes.

She had gone. Her lovely, beautiful mind had slipped away, leaving nothing but the shell of somebody he'd loved. Arthur looked down at his hands, gripping the cold skin of her arms, shaking furiously.

A large, firey feeling errupted in his throat, as tears began prickling in his eyes. Never in his life had he felt more helpless, more angry, more useless. Knowing there was nothing he could now do. Nothing. She was gone, and that was it. The realisation stabbed him in the chest so suddenly, that he thought he might fall back.

"Ariadne? Wake up," he demanded, his voice weak. Perhaps she would open her eyes and begin breathing again. Maybe there was a chance that she wasn't dead, just sleeping. Dreaming. The more he wanted her to wake up, the quieter she seemed to be. Annoyance quickly began pulsing through his veins at the fact she wasn't waking. "Wake. up," he repeated, just short of spitting. Why wouldn't she wake for him? Did she not think he loved her enough? It was his fault after all, he couldn't save her. "Get up, damn it!" he snapped. "Ariadne, wake-"

He grew silent. His voice cracked at the last moment, the lump in his throat finally taking hold. His eyes, now brimming with unshed tears, began to ripple and fall. Opening his mouth to speak, he found the only sound that came out was a small whimper, a weak groan deep from his chest.

Arthur couldn't even deny it. Not now that he was holding her empty body in his arms, now limp and lifeless.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Arthur's shoulders tensed, ready to coil.

"Arthur?" Cobb's voice asked from above him. Arthur said nothing. Cobb kneeled down and placed a light hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Art...we need to go..." He looked at the younger man, who did nothing but clutch the body protectively and bury his face into her hair. Cobb sighed heavily. "Arthur, there's nothing you can do. We have to leave-"

Arthur's head snapped towards him, his eyes filled with hate, glaring at Cobb. "Fuck you, Dom! Fuck all of you! Just leave me alone!" he yelled, his voice breaking.

Cobb said nothing. Understanding. He rose from the ground, gave Arthur one last nod, and turned. Walking away, he didn't say anything, not a word. He simply walked towards the car, leaving Arthur in the once again bitter silence.

He turned his attention to Ariadne's quiet body once more, several beads of tears rolling down his face. Another cry surfaced, as he moaned in sorrow at the pale form. "...I'm so sorry..." He sobbed. "...So sorry..." Leaning down, he pressed his lips against hers, lingering for the smallest of moments. His lips were trembling, and the taste of his tears was evident. He pulled away, and grasped her hand tightly, not caring that his hands were shaking, or that his shirt was now stained red with blood. To Arthur, nothing else seemed to matter. "I loved you," he whispered. "I really loved you."

It hurt. A dull ache in the stomach. that seemed to get worse with every passing second. Arthur had never understood the pain that Cobb had experienced, but now he knew more than he wanted to. It was like an empty tin inside his chest, running on a dim beat that was slowly shutting down. It hurt his heart, because that's where he kept her.