Author's Note: And I'm back! Yikes, that was a longer break between chapters than you're all used to from me. Sorry about that. A case of writer's block and a sudden realization will do that to you! What was that realization, you ask? Well, after this chapter, we've only really got 2-3 chapters left! How crazy! We might finish up in the next week. I really want to get this done before the holiday, since I'll be out of town. Otherwise, you'll all have to wait for the finale until after I recover from hardcore traveling across the country!

If you all remember the conversation Eames and Ariadne had in the last chapter, I went ahead and wrote a side-story about that crazy time Eames impersonated Arthur in a dream. It's called Genuinely Spooked. And it's dedicated to Cymru na Alethaira, who asked oh-so-nicely for it.

Thanks to all of you readers! Special thanks to those who review! Much love to those who put my on alerts and favorites as well! You're all fabulous!

Shout out to Efcia (who's been leaving monster reviews and having lovely conversations with me about the story. Totally fun hashing out the plot with em!) And also to Soxunorthodox, who's mega awesome!

So please enjoy and leave a review!

Disclaimer: I own only my own plot.

"I thought you knew the way," Arthur said to Eames' back, following the man and a local through the crowded streets. He glanced next to him, making sure Ariadne hadn't gotten lost. The woman, while having a somewhat far-off look on her face, was with them, trying to stay alert to the overwhelming sounds and happenings around them.

"I do, Arthur. But sometimes, getting lost in a place like this isn't ideal. Better to plan ahead." Eames glanced behind him and back. "Besides, the boy's nice. He's a good kid." A moment later, their entourage stopped in front of a plain building, waiting as Eames paid the boy off. When he left, they somewhat eagerly entered, all silently glad to be out of the heat.

Darkly lit, cool, simply decorated—that was to say not decorated at all—the entrance to Yusuf's place was very utilitarian, giving off an air of not quite abandonment. But, rather, humble workings. Something, Ariadne assumed as she followed the men, the chemist had done purposely to throw off any suspicion and keep unwanted people from hounding him.

"I did not think you'd bring our Ariadne."

Yusuf's voice guided them around the corner to his room full of dusty bottles and paper-littered desk. He sat behind it, hands tented, face creased in tiredness. Next to him, a little girl slept, curled in a cushy chair, dark hair spread wild.

"Yes, well, you weren't coming to us, were you?" Eames said darkly, his voice quiet as he glanced at the girl.

"No, no. I cannot leave now," he whispered, gesturing for them to sit. "We can talk here as long as we keep our voices down. I do not wish to disturb Saira's sleep."

Ariadne took the seat set off from the others. It enabled her to watch them all in once glance. She had a feeling she needed to keep her eyes on all of them. "Is she...your daughter?" she asked, eyes glued to her.

Yusuf nodded, but directed their conversation to a different topic. "What can I do for all of you?"

"We've been trying to contact you for weeks now. Where have you been?" Arthur asked, face a blank mask.

"I've been busy, mostly. You know how I am. The last week or so, I've been preoccupied," his eyes flashed quickly to Saira before darting back to the point man. "What did you need?"

Eames spoke up next. "Can we please get to the point? I have the feeling we could be here for hours, shooting the shit before we get down to business." He paused a moment, reading Arthur's face, before continuing. "Yusuf, we've got someone poisoning the minds of our community. Bringing nightmares to those who haven't dreamed in years, scarring us with fear. It all points to a chemist, honestly."

"What makes you think this?"

"There has been nothing in any of the circumstances, save one or two, that could indicate anything else. And even in those isolated incidents, there is even some evidence of chemicals, really. Only drugs could induce these reactions in the mind to bring back dreaming—nightmares—really."

The room was quiet a moment. "You think it was me?" Yusuf kept his voice neutral and his eyes away from their faces.

"We don't want to. But the fact that you've been unavailable and we haven't heard any news from you..." Ariadne said softly, a frown on her face. She hadn't planned on speaking, but she wanted him to tell her it wasn't him.

Yusuf watched her a moment before answering. "I've been hearing what's going on with everyone. And I'm incredibly sorry that we lost several to the madness. I had one as well, just once, though." He looked to Arthur and Eames, staring quietly.

"The fact that you dreamed means nothing to me, Yusuf," Arthur said firmly. "Any good chemist worth his salt and dignity knows to test his products on himself at some point."

Ariadne watched the silent stare shared between Yusuf and Arthur, eyes wide. She caught Eames glance, internally wincing at the hard look on his face. She could see he was drawing his own conclusions between their conversation and silent looks.

Yusuf let his head fall in his hand, sighing. "Yes. That's very true."

A beat of silence.

"So, then..." Eames began, but stopped when the chemist spoke again.

"I was commissioned to make the compound. I was not told who it would be used on and I did not ask. I was told by my employer to not test the formula on myself. But, naturally, I couldn't do that. I kept a single dosage and tried it. But not until much later. I was very cowardly." He sighed again. "I was also asked to mix them with things, hide them in clever ways that you would not find. Things that could not point to me. My guilt would not allow this and I sloppily left clues. Did you find them?"

Eames lifted his bag from the floor, placing it on his lap. "In a way. You left a few loopholes of doubt." He pulled out an empty shampoo bottle, a half-empty bottle of cologne, a prescription container, and a flask. He looked to Ariadne. "Pull it out of your bag, Ariadne."

She gave him a bewildered look. "Pull what?"

"I put it in your bag earlier. You'll see it."

Ariadne unzipped her purse and made a noise in the back of her throat. "Eames, you went through my garbage?" She pulled out an expired air freshener, only a drop or two of amber liquid inside, and passed it to Arthur's waiting hands.

"I did. You made it very easy when you handed the bag to me. Thank you, by the way." Eames motioned for Arthur to set the plastic on Yusuf's desk with the other items. "You spiked our daily belongings with your concoctions. Each day, we would use them and each night, we would get our nightmares."

"It would have been clever, if the circumstances weren't what they are," Yusuf smiled to himself weakly.

Arthur nodded minutely. "Who hired you?"

"They brought me these things. Didn't say who owned them, who normally bought them. Just told me to find a way to mix the sedatives in without arousing suspicion." Yusuf ignored Arthur a moment. "Let me guess? Ariadne is obviously the air freshener, Cobb was the pills—his is obvious, the poor man. The flask, I remember, is very much early post-war Japanese... This cologne is yours, Eames, and this shampoo must be yours, Arthur? You didn't bring all the other items?"

"We would have needed a suitcase for that, Yusuf. Answer the question," Arthur nearly hissed.

"What will you do with me?" Yusuf turned to Saira, the little girl still snoozing. "She's very tired. She's been under for a long time. Rarely came up. She's trying to quit," he whispered, petting her hair with gentle care.

"She was under...with the PASIV?" Ariadne asked, shocked. Yusuf nodded.

"Many things have scarred her in reality. She chose to go to safety. I presume, anyway. I wanted what was best for her, whatever would make her happy."

Ariadne kept her eyes trained on the girl. "But...but she's just a little girl!"

"I wouldn't normally condone using it on a child, either, Ariadne. But...reality became too much for her to handle. I indirectly made life unbearable for her innocent mind to comprehend. But now she has chosen to try and forgive me. Something I don't deserve."

"Who hired you?" Arthur demanded once more, breaking into their conversation.

"They're very good at persuasion. They convinced me that I was right in making this sort of drug. That, whoever was on the receiving end deserved it. That I was cheated. They preyed on my guilt, the resentment in the back of my mind. The petty side, shared with baser emotions. My logical side made sure I didn't torture you too much, though. I made sure you could all try to rest with the PASIVs, if you thought of them. That was my gift to you."

"Yusuf, friend..." Eames started, edging closer to the man. "Tell us who hired you."

Yusuf watched them, bringing himself back to his desk and pulling out a pen. Silently, he wrote on a scrap of paper, folded it, and handed it to Arthur. "What will you do with me?"

The silence that followed his question, laced with barely concealed panic, was unbearable to Ariadne. She squirmed in her seat, unsure. She had no idea what would happen next, what would running through her associates' minds. Her brain told her that most situations called for his death, like the movies. But this was very much real life and she knew them all personally. It was one thing to fill her face with popcorn and watch an actor pretend to die by firing squad and another to watch a friend die by other friend's hand.

"I would very much like to disappear," Yusuf said, looking at his daughter. "The reason she and I are the way we are is because of my hobby. I would like to start fresh, to rebuild our relationship without the complications of crime and poisons."

"Yusuf, can you shut down your laboratory and get off the grid, out of Mombasa, within the next seventy-two hours?" Eames tented his fingers together, placing them on his lips contemplatively. Arthur's face was impassive, but they could all see the wheels turning behind his dark eyes.

"I...I believe so. It is just us, here. We've no one else, so no one should be able to find us."

"Then go," Arthur demanded harshly. "Start over. Don't ever come back into the community again, don't contact any of us. Begin again with your daughter. She doesn't deserve to grow up in an environment like this. It's no place for children. We won't tell the others it was you. Most have other suspects, to be honest. But for all intent and purpose, after we leave here, you're dead." He stood, both Eames and Ariadne following suit.

Before they walked out, Yusuf called out, "You should all be able to sleep now, if you've stopped using these products. No dosage means no drug in your system. At least, any dreams you have wouldn't be drug-induced. But they shouldn't have healed the parts of your brain that cause you to dream."

The men walked out without another word, Ariadne whispered a small "thank you", leaving Yusuf alone with his daughter.

Rubbing his face with his palms, he turned to Saira, who, not surprisingly, was watching him with half-lidded eyes. "How long were you awake?"

"Just a little bit," she whispered, yawning. Sitting up straighter, she asked, "Are we leaving?"

He nodded. "Yes, love. Anywhere in the world, where would you like to go?"

Saira wrung her hands together, nervous. "Um, Austrila."

"Australia?" Yusuf corrected. She nodded. "Well, I'll see what I can do, shall I?"

– –

None of them spoke until they got back to their hotel.

"Are we going to visit that person now?" Ariadne asked, glancing at the paper that Arthur held a tight grip on.

None of them had glanced at the writing yet.

He shook his head, inserting the key to their door and swinging it open. "We'll wait. There are more important things to do now."

"Like what?" Eames asked, shaking off his jacket and fishing out a bottle of water from their refrigerator.

Arthur nodded his head at Ariadne, who stood staring out the window to the busy street outside. "She needs to sleep."

Eames paused, then nodded. "Very true."

They waited for Ariadne's denial, or even acquiesce, but she just continued to stare as if she couldn't hear them.

"Ari!" Eames called, walking over to her. Startled, she looked over to the two men.

"What?"

Arthur frowned at her. "You need to sleep. You're not even functioning properly. When was the last time you went under the PASIV?"

She thought a moment. "Um, Saturday night?" She counted it out in her head. "So, four days?"

"When did that plug in run out?" he asked as Eames tugged her to the bed.

"Two days ago, I think."

"Then you should sleep fine without the PASIV," he stated, crossing his arms.

Ariadne let out a squawk of protest when Eames shoved her onto the comforter. "Hey!"

"Sleep," he said as Arthur went to the small sitting room in the suit. "Arthur and I are going to make some phone calls and the like while you rest," he finished gently.

"What if Yusuf was wrong? I can't keep seeing that every time I close my eyes," her voiced cracked a touch, her hands wringing together quickly.

Eames face softened. "Ari, Arthur and I are here for you if that does happen. But Yusuf's a smart bloke. He knows he stuff." He grabbed her hands, not only to comfort her, but for his own sanity. The nervous habit was driving him mad. "Think of happy things. Think of me!" He winked.

Ariadne let out a stressed chuckle. "I'm so tired. And you know I'm loopy when I find you're funny like that."

"I, ma'am, am offended," he mocked a shot to the chest. "Please sleep. Once you're rested, we can hopefully leave Mombasa and get on the trail of this mystery villain."

"Villain, oh lord. I feel like we're in a Batman movie now."

"That's the spirit!" He gripped her hands gently and stood. "We'll be in the other room. Sleep well."

She nodded to him and slipped off her shoes. Dully, she could feel the excitement starting to roll through her. She'd never really been excited to sleep before. Not like this. It was exhilarating in a way. The thought of dreamless sleep. But it also made her sad. Not all dreams were bad. She hoped that she would at least have the opportunity to have one more pleasant dream before they were gone for good.

Without bothering to turn off the light or shut the curtains, she flopped back and was out before she could finish her yawn.

– –

"She's asleep," Eames said ten minutes later, shutting the bedroom door.

Arthur nodded from his spot on the couch, laptop open, the light glaring harshly on his face. "This...isn't going to be pleasant."

Eames settled in the chair on the point man's side, toying with his now empty water bottle. "I don't imagine it will. Which is why I leave it to you to make the phone call."

"Thanks. How kind of you," Arthur said acidly. Eames nodded in acknowledgment.

They both looked down to the small black cell phone sitting on the table in front of them. Unconsciously, they both leaned away from it a hair, like it would bite. Or it was emitting radioactive waves.

Eames was certain fire would shoot from it at some point during the call.

"Ready, mate?" the forger asked.

Arthur ignored him, steeling himself to dial the familiar number.

Each number was like a hit, making them wince.

They couldn't hear each other breath, the silence roaring in their ears.

"Hello?"

"Cobb, we have to talk."

A/N: Most evil cliffhanger ever, right? Sorry, guys. I don't give you many insane ones, so I thought this would full that quota nicely.

Also, gives me incentive to post again before Sunday to relieve you of the stress!

As always, reviews help unicorns be born... In my experience at Hogwarts at least. (Psh, what am I talking about?) So please leave one!

Story recommendation: Burning At These Mysteries by troubled. writings .x