A/N: So, it's been a couple of days… sorry! School just started again, and I've been exhaustingly busy. But I'm trying to update whenever I can!
Disclaimer: I have a confession to make. I'm Christopher Nolan. I own Inception. I'm just disguised as a 21 year-old girl that writes fanfiction.
…Just kidding.
…
Ariadne could hear the dripping of water somewhere within the vicinity. The constant drip, drip, drip was slowly driving her insane. It was as if time was slowing to a complete stop. The only escape was when she drifted in and out of consciousness. She was in a basement somewhere, she knew that much. The issue was that Ariadne had no idea where that basement was; if she didn't know, how was anyone going to find her? Arthur. The real question was how Arthur was going to find her.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The Architect cautiously opened her eyes, taking stock of her injuries as she became more aware of her body. She wasn't in good shape- there was dried blood that crusted around her left eyebrow and trailed down towards her chin, one of her eyes was almost swollen shut, she was sure that a couple of ribs were either broken or badly bruised. Ariadne's left ankle was soar, but not broken. The worst, and most noticeable injury was her broken right wrist. Her right arm was her drawing arm- if the Architect's wrist didn't get set correctly before healing, she knew that the doctors were probably going to have to re-break it. Ariadne felt around in her pocket, grasping her totem. She was thankful that they didn't search her pockets- without her totem; she could lose touch of reality. She also felt the weight of her slowly dying cell phone in her pocket. Quickly, she reached down and turned it off- she may need it later.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Cobol kept her fed, and gave her water, but just enough. She was always slightly hungry, and always thirsty. Ariadne hasn't seen Liam or Blackhurst since she'd been taken captive; her only human contact has been with a large henchman-like brute with a gun. All she could do is sleep, and dream about rescue.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
…..
It was time. Arthur was going to apologize to Ariadne; there would be no more jobs without the Architect- Arthur and Eames agreed on that. He held no hope of anything romantic blossoming out of this, which was for the best. Arthur feared that he had hurt his relationship with Ariadne beyond repair. She hit him. The corners of Arthur's mouth twitched up at that thought. It was that fiery spirit that had caught his attention in the first place; he couldn't find himself angry with her, no matter how much he tried. The Point Man leaned his head back against the cushiony headrest of the first-class seat. First class was an indulgence that he never passed up.
Arthur's plan was simple. When he arrived in Paris, he would go to her apartment to find her. He would beg if he had to in order to get Ariadne to dream with him… and Eames… once again. What if she isn't interested? She had to be- she was, above all else, a creator. Ariadne had raw, pure talent, and even she couldn't argue that it was best used in the dream world. That was the only place that she could create without limitations. She will be interested.
When Arthur stepped off the plane, he felt a small hitch in his pulse. He was nervous- a fairly uncommon emotion in his life. Ariadne took his world by storm, though, so nothing was common when it came to her. She caused his logic and emotions to go haywire- a fact that both confused and irked him. He slowly walked towards her apartment, taking time to compose his thoughts before he saw her. As he walked up the stairs, he took deep breaths. Arthur didn't like not knowing what he was walking into, but this situation with Ariadne was entirely unpredictable. When he got to her apartment, he noticed the door was cracked open.
"Ariadne? Ariadne, it's me, Arthur. I know you probably don't want to talk to me, but I want you to come back to dreaming with Eames and I- we need you. I'm sorry about the things that I said- you're irreplaceable. I was wrong, Ariadne. And you know how hard that is for me to admit," Arthur chuckled nervously when there was no response. "Ariadne, are you ignoring me? I said I'm sorry! Please, come to the door."
When there was still no response, he slowly pushed the door open a bit more.
"Ariadne! Ari-" He finally saw her apartment- it was in complete disarray. Picture frames and books were scattered on the floor, a broken vase was lying on its side. Papers were scattered near Ariadne's entrance table- Arthur stooped to pick them up. He picked up the top sheet off the pile and began reading:
Subject Name: Arthur David Robinson…
Arthur dropped the sheets of paper and stared at the pile in shock. It was only at that moment that he noticed the blood.
….
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Ariadne started when she heard the sudden appearance of steps. It wasn't the brute- they sounded different. The door swung open, and Blackhurst quietly stepped inside.
"Good evening, Ariadne. How are you doing?" Ariadne glared at him, remaining silent. "I came here because I thought that you'd like to hear our plans with you. You see, I'd like if we could kill two birds with one stone. We're keeping you here until your dear Arthur comes to rescue you. Since it will probably be a while, Liam and I decided that it would be… educational… to dream with you. More than anything, I'd like to learn how to make an Inception successful." Ariadne cut him off.
"I'll never tell you, you stupid prick." Ariadne heard the slap across her face before she felt it, a raging trail of fire running across her cheek.
"We don't need you to tell us, we can find it ourselves. And we will find it." Ariadne scoffed humorously.
"You're going to try to extract it out of me?"
"We're not going to try, sweet Ariadne. Cobol always succeeds, so trying is unnecessary. Now, back to the plan. After the extraction, and dear Arthur comes to play 'hero,' we plan to kill you. Goodnight, Ariadne."
When the door shut, Ariadne felt her calm façade crumble. With her shoulders convulsing with sobs, she curled into a shaky ball on the floor. Arthur was never going to find her- Ariadne was filled with emptiness as she felt the last of her hope flicker inside her.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
…
A/N: Your responses to the last chapter gave me so much joy. Thank you so much for reading! Please review!