Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.

"Ari!" Arthur almost shouted. Standing outside the bedroom door, he pounded on it angrily, with his fist. "Ariadne, please! Just open the door!"

Ariadne couldn't speak. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she cradled her baby daughter to her, her tears falling onto the top of the infant's smooth, soft head. As the tears began to streak her daughter's face, she sobbed even harder.

Cobb walked over to the PASIV, and nodded to Andy. The nurse carefully wiped his hands, and nodded.

"The Ogilvies?" Cobb asked, softly. Andy nodded towards the hallway. "One of the nurses is taking care of them." He looked at Cobb, directly. "Listen, are you really sure this is a good idea? What if-"

"I have to," Cobb said, looking at the prone figure of Arthur. "They're lost in a dream, and I have no idea if they even know its a dream anymore." He shuddered. "I have to do this."

Andy didn't protest. He watched as Cobb sat down in the new seat, and carefully inserted the PASIV. Leaning back, he nodded at the other man, who reached over, pressed the button.

Cobb closed his eyes and plunged into darkness.

Arthur slumped down outside the door. He glanced at his watch. Ariadne had been locked inside for at least an hour. He rubbed his throat, carefully checking to see if he was still breathing correctly. His eyes felt raw, and he brushed the traces of tears from his cheeks.

The door was a barrier, blocking him from his wife and child. He stood up again, and leant against it. Swallowing, he began to speak, slowly, and clearly.

"Ariadne. You have to open this door." He paused, waiting for a response. At the silence, he began to speak again. "Please. It getting late-"

No reply.

His anger starting to spiral into fury, Arthur began to pound more forcefully on the door. "Ariadne! Open this door!"

He heard a shuffling noise, and the door opened a crack. His wife peered out, her eyes swollen with crying. "Stop it," she whispered hoarsely. "You'll upset the baby."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "And you think locking yourself in here won't upset her? I need you to come out, and talk to me!"

Ariadne flinched. "Please. Arthur." She swallowed. "Please, don't be-"

He took a deep breath, picking up on the cues. He softened his voice. "Look, I'm sorry. But-" he looked at the floor. "But it was before we met, ok? Before you and I even-"

"But you-" Her voice cracked, and a tear began to trail down her cheek again. "You signed a living will. How could you-"

Arthur sighed, heavily, and rubbed his face. "Look, please come downstairs, let's talk. Properly." He checked his watch. "Its nearly 7pm, and none of us have eaten. Come on."

Ariadne nodded, wanting to trust him, wanting him to make the decisions. It seemed so comfortable, simple. "OK," she whispered.

Cobb opened his eyes, and began to look around. He was sitting on a park bench, and noticed the melding tones of green, the lushness of the grass, and the sky. He heard laughter, and conversation, and began to get up and walk.

The detail of the dream was impressive. He realised, walking along, that Ariadne had wanted it to be perfect. The perfect setting for the perfect family life that she and Arthur would never have in reality.

He continued to walk. He looked at the paper in his hand, giving him their address. Ariadne would make sure that he would have their address. He consulted the map in his hand, and continued on his way.

As he moved down the sidewalk, he noticed the projections. Pedestrians. High schoolers loaded up with books and skateboards. Elderly couples walking small dogs. And a woman - a beautiful woman, clad in a long coat, standing at the side.

Cobb felt his heart begin to accelerate. "Mal?" he asked, almost nervously, as he saw her turn to him.

She nodded. "Dom." Reaching out a hand, their fingers touched. Without thinking, he let her long slim hand wrap itself around his.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, urging himself to stay calm. She nodded, and pointed in the direction of one of the streets. He squinted, looking ahead. It was a row of elegant town houses, and he cast a quick glance at the address in his hand.

"They're over there," she said, gently. "Lost. Lost like-" she paused, the silence beginning to settle like a weight. "Lost like we were."

"I know."

"Let me help you." Mal looked at him, beseechingly. Her dark eyes glowed, luminously in her pale face, and despite himself, Cobb reached out, and gently traced his finger along the outline of her jaw.

"Why should I?" he breathed.

"Because- I know what its like to believe a dream is real."

"Please. Have a seat."

Ariadne nodded, and settled down at the kitchen table, their daughter cradled in her arms. Arthur leaned over, and gently kissed his wife on the cheek. "We do need to talk," he said, quietly.

Ariadne looked at him, traces of tears still visible on her cheeks. "Arthur- why-"

"I thought," Arthur said, sitting opposite her, glasses of water placed in front of them both, "that if I ever fell into limbo, and couldn't return, it would make everything easier. But that was before-" his voice faltered - "before I met you."

"You never thought you'd-" she stopped, preventing herself from saying the word stroke. He shook his head.

"Never. I'm barely 30. I never thought it would - happen to me."

"Arthur, your parents, what if they-"

He sighed. "Well, they might."

"Even here-" she found her voice growing slightly louder. "Even here, I could lose you. I thought we were here to be safe."

"We are safe," he said, soothingly. "Very safe. No-one can reach us."

Ariadne shook her head. "But they can. What happened-"

"Look," Arthur said, wearily. "It may happen, it may not. But-"

"Maybe we should return-" Ariadne said hesitatingly - "to reality."

"What?" Arthur's eyes widened in surprise. "Why?"

"Arthur, I can't stay here, knowing that at any minute you could-" she couldn't bring herself to say the next work.

"This was your idea," he said, quietly, an ominous sign. She shivered slightly. "We're here, and we have a child, and you want to-"

Ariadne got up, clutching their daughter, feeling her emotions threatening to get the better of her. "I'm sorry." Her voice was barely a whisper. "I'm sorry."

Cobb carefully unlocked the door, Mal standing close to him. As they entered the house, he noticed the blend of warm sand tones and light pastels. Mal nodded. "Whose taste?"

"Ariadne's," Cobb replied. He swallowed, and began to walk further in. "Stay close."

The projection nodded, and without warning, wound her fingers through his. As they continued to walk, he spotted a door. "Lounge," he muttered.

Putting his hand on the door, he pushed it open. Blinking, he let out a gasp.

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