Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.

Robert sighed, and burrowed down in the bed. The mattress was firm - too firm, and his ribs pressed into it. Wincing, he pulled the blanket around him.

Suddenly, he heard another knock on the door. "Robert?" it was a pleading, pitying voice. "Robert, let me in."

He turned, heard, and felt himself stiffen. Closing his eyes, he waited for Summer to leave.

"Robert. If you don't let me in, I'll call Browning. Tell him where you are!"

He ignored her.

"Robert!"

Gritting his teeth, he reached for the receiver, and grabbed it. Pressing 0, he called reception. "Yes sir?"

"Hi, its Robert Fischer in suite 491. A woman is harrassing me by banging on my door-"

"No problem Sir. Security will be there right away."

"Robert! Don't you dare call security, I'll-"

He blinked. Summer sounded infuriated. Hating himself, he began to get out of bed. The banging persisted, and he opened the door. Summer stood there, her face twisted with anger.

"Oh, so you finally drag yourself out of bed?"

"Leave me alone," he whispered, hoarsely. "Now."

"All alone?" She practically pushed past him. "Where's that trashy little piece you've been hanging around with?"

Robert flushed with anger. "She's not trashy," he practically snarled. He sat down on the bed, and opened a packet of cigarettes. Putting one in his mouth, he struck up a lighter. "She's incredibly sweet."

Summer looked disgusted. "What happened to you?"

He glared at her. "I fell in love. All right?"

"So why are you here?"

Robert shrugged. "Not your business."

Suddenly, there was another knock on the door. "Security!" called a male voice. Robert smiled. "Please, come in!"

A uniformed guard entered. "May I help you?"

"Yes, please." Robert gestured to Summer. "This is a deranged fan. Please remove her."

Security nodded. "Certainly." He reached over, and took Summer's arm. "Please, come with me."

"You-" her face darkened, and she glared at Robert. "You-"

He smiled at her. "Please. Just go."

Summer glowered at him as she was pulled away. "You'll pay for this, Robert Fischer," she snarled.

Robert shrugged. "I've already lost my health, my career, and the only people who ever cared about me." He put the cigarette in his mouth. "Nothing else for you to do, trust me."

The door slammed. Taking the cigarette out if his mouth, he mashed it into an ashtray. Getting up, he began to gather his clothes, and dress.


Arthur sighed, and shifted in the bed. He felt a weight of misery settling in his stomach, which would not dissipate. He turned over, and let his face rest on the pillow.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. "Arthur?"

He blinked. "Yes?"

Ariadne opened the door, and peeked in. "Arthur, are you..." her voice faltered. "I thought you might want some-" she stood, blushing. He swallowed, and nodded.

"Please." He turned down the cover of the bed. "Please."

She slipped off her robe, and huddled in next to him. He turned, looping his arm around her waist. She was wearing soft pyjamas, and he inhaled the scent of her skin and hair - a delicate floral smell, no doubt the shower gel she used. He let her cuddle next to him.

"Its not your fault."

Arthur swallowed, feeling comforted by her words. "Ari...its just..." he moved closer. "Its just Robert is so alone. So alone. Browning just uses him. Summer used him. He's surrounded by hangers on, but because he's Robert Fischer, Jr, they've let him have his own way all this time. And its killing him."

She let his head rest on his shoulder. "Please promise me you were never like that."

Arthur sighed. "I was offered diet pills once."

"Arthur!"

"I said, offered." His voice was mild. "I never took them." He swallowed. "Eames once told me I needed to watch it, but I told him that I'd rather not model than become hooked on something."

"Arthur, if you ever do start taking anything...I will leave you." She turned to face him. "I mean it. I'd rather you weighed 400lbs than ended up like Robert!"

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "I don't think I'll ever get that heavy," he said, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face. "But, I'm not as thin as I was."

She curled into him. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're you. That's why I'm with you. You don't make me feel like some short, drab little thing. You don't make me feel like a freak because I'd rather go to a museum than go shopping for clothes. And you don't make fun of me because of my-" her voice faltered - "lack of experience."

Arthur leaned over and kissed her. "Ari, I would never do that. Trust me."

She nodded. "I do."

His arms tightened around her, and her eyes closed. Slowly, they began to drift into sleep.


Jules lay in bed, too confused and angry to fall asleep. Closing her eyes, a montage of images washed through her mind. Robert. Accusing her, shouting, angry.

"Yeah, should have just bought a cage and shoved you in it, and pushed food at you through the bars" she muttered. "Then you would really see me as the wicked witch." She hugged her pillow, burying down into the bed.

Suddenly, her cell phone began to bleep. Annoyed, she snatched it up. "Yes?"

"Jules. Robert. Can we...talk?"

She frowned. "Where are you?"

"I'm outside your building. Please. I need you."

She blinked. His voice sounded broken, desperate. She bit her lip, desperately fighting an inner voice. He's manipulating you.

Jules swallowed. "OK. I'll let you in."

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