Author's Note: Finally was able to upload this chapter! I had a million issues with FF. net today... Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Don't forget to leave a review when you're done!
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the romping plot bunny.
"I haven't experienced what you've been, but this is something serious."
Arthur made a not in his small leather book and looked back at Ariadne.
"There's more than just me and Cobb?" She shrugged off her jacket and laid it at the edge of the bed.
Arthur had asked her to meet him in a hotel near the quieter bank of the river in Paris. He told her he'd been heading this way originally when Cobb gave him a call, asking him to check in with Ariadne. Thankfully, Cobb had explained the situation to him, saving Ariadne the job.
Behind her, she saw the familiar silver case laying on the center of the mattress, and she wondered what he had in mind.
"Yes, Eames, of all people, contacted me a few days ago. To say he was upset would be putting it lightly... The man's not afraid of much."
Ariadne's mouth hung open for a moment. With a chuckle, Arthur reached under her chin and pushed it back up, closing her mouth.
"Eames... Called... You? Wow."
He grinned wryly. "He didn't want to disturb Cobb at home with his kids, Yusuf is unavailable, as he usually is, and most others in our business wouldn't be as...trustworthy."
"Since this is, technically, all a crime network?" she smirked. Arthur nodded. "I wonder if Yusuf or anyone else linked to Fischer has had the dreams," she wondered aloud.
Helping himself to the small refrigerator in the room, Arthur looked over to the architect. "The chances of this are unlikely, but this whole situation doesn't sit right."
"You don't have to say that twice. I'm honestly afraid to sleep now." Arthur watched her for a moment, silent. She couldn't tell what was going through his mind. "Are you worried that you'll dream like this, Arthur?" Afraid to look at him as he answered, Ariadne busied herself with the hem of her shirt.
"I don't know. I don't understand what the point of these dreams are. If they're meant to scare us or if they're just random dreams. The only off thing about them is that, with the exception of you, none of us dream anymore. Ever. And to randomly dream these...nightmares, and all so close to each other, it seems wrong."
Ariadne ran her fingers along the cool sides of the silver case on the bed with her and thought. "What do you have planned?"
He stared at her hand, quiet for a moment. "Honestly, nothing." She gave him a startled look. "Hey, I have my theories and such, but I can't do much when I'm just grasping at straws. There's no specificity for me to work with," he paused when there was a knock on the door. "Speaking of specificity..."
He saw Ariadne tense on the bed as he went to the door and told her to relax.
Eames walked in the room, already starting to make himself at home. He paused when he saw Ariadne on the bed.
"Ariadne, love. Didn't expect to see you here." He cast a long look at Arthur, who glared.
"She's here for the same reason you are, Eames." Arthur closed the door with a snap and followed the man into the room.
Eames' smile dropped slightly hearing this, the teasing gone from his voice. "Oh, well that's a shame... Less fun for me, as well."
"Not now," he was warned.
He gave Arthur a quick look, then smiled at Ariadne. "Yes, later then. Why didn't you say our little architect was having some of these problems, too?"
"It's recent, Eames," Ariadne spoke up for the first time since his arrival. She'd watched their interaction and filed it away for later. But for now, she was tired and wanted to sleep without fear. "Arthur, why are we here?"
"Cobb asked me, as we figured this out, if you two wanted to go under and sleep with the influence. It would be more restful compared, and you would—should—be able to control the dreams."
"We would only get five or ten minutes of real sleep, though," Ariadne said, standing and walking to the large window in the room. She watched the busy Parisian street below them as she thought.
"No, Ariadne. He means we'd be under for several hours." Eames looked to Arthur, who confirmed this. "Which means quite a while in our dreams."
She bit her lip in worry, knowing the other two were watching her. Was he suggesting she share a week-long dream with Eames? Sensing her indecision, Arthur spoke up.
"Come look at this, Ariadne. You took, Eames. I doubt you've seen one of these in a long time."
The three of them crowded around the bed and watched as Arthur opened the case. Eames muttered something as the other watched for the architect's reaction.
Instead of the familiar little machine that put the under usually, she found herself looking at two smaller versions, side by side.
"There aren't many of these left. No real need. But they can put you both under and you don't have to share the same dream. You could, if you wanted, but it's not a necessity like the usual device."
"And this will work?" Eames asked, crossing his arms in disbelief.
Arthur looked at him, them to Ariadne, who was staring at the machine. "Yes. No outside influence, other than someone hooking up and entering your dream the typical way, can affect you. Assuming this is all an outside influence at all."
"I'm proud of you, Arthur. Looks like you but a lot of thought into this. Imagination and ingenuity aren't usually your thing." Eames laughed and shrugged his jacket off. Arthur just glared at him, keeping silent. "Are you in, Ariadne?"
Arthur busied himself with the suitcase, turning it on and handing Eames a needled tube. Eames was out quickly, eager to sleep restfully for the first time in a week. He was surprised to see Ariadne so hesitant to dream. But since he wasn't familiar with what she was dealing with, her doubt must have been justified. "Ariadne?" He handed her her needle when he saw determination flash across her eyes and followed her to the bed.
"How long are we going under?" she asked, pulling out her chess piece, checking on its weight and drawing from its reassurance.
"I've set Eames for nine hours, as he requested this morning. Do you have a specific amount?" When she told him seven hours, he set the timer and watched her lay down. "Don't worry. You have your totem, you should know you're dreaming. Worse case scenario, you can kill yourself to come back early."
Her hand holding the needle shook for a moment before she inserted it into her wrist.
"I'll be here," he told her, worried. She gave him a weak smile before letting the sedatives take over.
Arthur watched her for a few moments before taking her vitals and doing the same to Eames. Now he just had to find a way to occupy the next nine hours or so.
A/N: So... Whaddya think? Reviews are lovely, lovely things!
Story recommendation this go around is In Somnis Veritas by Kitera.