Author's Note: Words don't describe how sorry I am you guys had to wait for this. I simply ran out of time before I went out of town, then I was exhausted, yet had to work my butt off all week with my job. Not fun.

Good news, my trip was fabulous. If you've never gone to a 30 Seconds to Mars concert, I highly recommend it. Even if you're so-so or not a fan of them. They put on a hell of a show. Spent all last weekend with no sleep, which was exhilaratingly terrifying as I flew on four flights in three airports. But whatevs.

Better news, there will be one more, small chapter after this one. Then we're at the end!

Thank you all to my readers, reviewers, and those who favorite/alert me. You're all awesome.

Don't be shy to leave a review when you're done reading!

Disclaimer: I own my own plot. Nolan gets the real royalties.

The autopsy report, two weeks later, had come back clean. The final verdict was death by natural causes brought on by age and stress. No one bothered to contradict the coroner or anyone else to upset the delicate balance everyone involved had struck. Every breath was baited with tension, dancing with words around Cobb and his family.

Arthur had, just before the report was released, leaked who the apparent culprit was. Most acted as had been predicted; outraged, resentment, disbelief. Upon hearing of Josephine's death, the more mild mannered extractors shook their heads and walked away, thankful that the nightmares were behind them. Only a handful expressed their rage for Cobb's issues having an effect on them.

Which put their plan into motion.

The funeral was held near Cobb's home; Josephine's will stated she wanted to be buried wherever Mal was. Ariadne was sent back to Paris the day after, barely given warning. She was told by Eames as he dropped her and Arthur off at the airport. Arthur guided her through security and left her feet from her gate, mouth open at the last words he said to her.

"If you try to find us, you will die. We'll come to you if we want to."

She watched him turn, small carry on hiding the PASIV he'd paid security off to get through, and head to the domestic concourses. He didn't bother to look back or even say goodbye.

During the flight, she found herself crying quietly, to her surprise. She didn't know why. But she assumed life had added up in the last several weeks, Josephine's death and the haunted glow in Cobb's eyes returning the day before, and she'd just now cracked under the pressure. She huddled close to the window, taking deep breaths, trying to stop.

Most of the flight, she'd felt eyes on her. From what seat she didn't know until she got up to use the toilet.

She hadn't really tried to search them out. They ended up being the speck in the corner of her eye as she passed and she tried to not react to their presence. When she walked back to her seat, she only saw the back of their head, immersed in a Sky Mall catalog. But she recognized Amy's head of curls immediately from her first job without Cobb.

As she buckled back into her seat, her mind raced with the possibilities of why Amy was on her flight. The odds of it being random and complete coincidental were slim to none. The chances of this being a hit or a threat seemed much more real. In her mind, Ariadne calculated the ways and odds of Amy making herself know opposed to keeping in the shadows.

She shuddered at the thought.

Her plane landed at Charles de Gaulle just over an hour later. Immediately, Ariadne made her way through the gate and customs and tried to make an inconspicuous beeline for the exit. Outside at the taxi curb was where Amy caught up with her.

"Ariadne! Hold on, please!" Amy jogged up to Ariadne, who tried to act surprised at seeing her. The woman wore a small smile as her hands nervously patted down her flyaway curls. "Fancy running into you here," she said, chuckling.

"Yeah, odd," Ariadne murmured. "Are you taking a trip?"

Amy laughed. "Oh, girl. We both know why I'm here. I'd like to talk with you. Let's share a cab." She flagged a car down and opened the back door, gesturing for the younger girl to get in. "I'm not here to hurt you. But we need to talk. Please."

Ariadne climbed in and told the driver the address of a cafe near her apartment as Amy followed. As they pulled away, Amy started in.

"Ariadne, we need to know what is going on with Cobb and the others in your little group. What happened and why did they dump you on the first available flight to Paris?"

The cab was quiet a moment, only the semi-muted ramblings of the driver's radio filtered through the car.

"It was suggested that I leave before something happened to Cobb over the entire mess of what happened. Arthur agreed and said he was going to do the same. They wouldn't tell me exactly what would happen," Ariadne said, frowning. "Eames said he had business to take care of before he left."

"They wouldn't tell you what might happen?" she said incredulously, staring at the architect. "You're a smart girl, I don't believe for a second that you don't know what's going to happen."

"I never said I wouldn't guess it. Sometimes they forget that just because I'm not a seasoned professional like the rest of you that I'm smart enough to make my own conclusions. I'm highly underestimated."

"You're not upset?"

"I'm torn apart now, Amy. I am a mess. A mentor of mine is about to be hunted down for something he couldn't control," Ariadne hissed angrily. "And I am expected to just walk away and pretend I don't know its happening and never try to contact the others unless they make the first move. What is that?"

Amy sighed. "I'm honestly on the 'walk away' side, but I'm trying to keep some people in control. Naturally that means I've been asked to tail you. I wish things didn't have to be this way; Cobb is a good guy and one hell of an extractor, but some people can't be mollified by rationality. Is there anything you're not telling me, Ariadne?"

"No. I wish things didn't have to be this way, either. It seems..."

"Barbaric? Simplistic? Beneath us?" Amy looked ahead. "I thought that way once upon a time. And then you see it more and more, in ways you never thought you'd ever really see. Our business is glorified to the new so that you're drawn in with grandeur and when things like this happen, you know too much and it's too late to walk away."

"You're saying I'm in now. For life." She toyed with her scarf, staring at the older extractor before speaking up. "I suppose that's fine. It's a bit of an addiction, the creation, the power."

Amy smiled softly. "Power is not alluring to pure minds."

"I never said I was pure."

A cell phone rang, cutting whatever Amy's response was short. She dug in her bag and pulled out a small silver phone. She gestured for Ariadne to hold on and answered.

"Jav, what's up? What do you mean Will got to him first?" Amy's voice raised an octave, alerting Ariadne, who had a genuinely startled look on her face.

Who was Will and how had he gotten to Dom before Eames?

And it occurred to her that she didn't know Eames' first name. And for some reason, despite the serious situation, Ariadne felt like the name Will was totally absurd and fake. Like much of the front Eames gave off.

Amy's eyes darted to Ariadne. "No, I've already talked to her. I didn't notice anything off. I can go back if you want me to. How did this happen?"

Ariadne didn't need to strain her ears to hear the faceless man named Javier on the other end. She knew exactly what he was telling Amy. Unless their plan had gone wrong. And if that was the case, jumping from the moving cab was a viable option, despite the heavy traffic.

The driver pulled up to the cafe just as Amy finished her conversation. Ariadne threw cash at him and climbed out, praying Amy wouldn't follow her. Of course, because this wasn't the dreamscape, Ariadne's will was not followed through.

"Ariadne, get back here!" Amy called out. "We're not done!"

Ariadne whirled around. "What's left? What? Judging from that call, Cobb is dead. Fucking dead because of some messed up delusion of an eye for an eye. Am I going to have to watch my back now, Amy?"

Amy's mouth gaped a moment. "Uh... No... The issue was only with Dom Cobb. You're clear. We just had to keep an eye on you."

"Who did it?"

"Eames. William Eames did it. Shot him in the head. Javier and Kim Lee were watching them from a distance and Eames just...just pulled out his gun."

Ariadne rubbed at her eyes a moment, suddenly tired. "Was there anything else you needed? Can we be done now? The last two months have been a little long. I'd like to go home." When Amy nodded, face grim, Ariadne turned around and walked away.

– –

When Arthur called Ariadne two weeks later and she told him how she'd been followed, he was livid with himself.

"I'm getting sloppy," he growled.

"Arthur, those two weeks you barely slept an hour each night. Add that to all the shit with Josephine, you're allowed to make mistakes. This one was nothing," Ariadne reasoned with him, setting down her sketch book and pencil. The doodle on the page was just the view outside her window. She'd graduated and handed in her thèse with a flourish to Professor Montag, the replacement for Miles.

She could hear him huff on his line. "That's not how it works. If it hadn't been Amy, it could have been someone else. And they wouldn't have just talked, despite the assurance she gave you over what they wanted from you."

"Still," she shrugged, forgetting he couldn't see her. "It didn't. Why are you calling?"

"You're very blunt today," he commented. "But I'm calling to see how you're doing over everything that's happened. Cobb's death is upsetting to us all."

"I'm okay, I suppose. How is his family?"

"Miles and the children are grieving in peace that they deserve. But they're okay, considering."

There was silence on both ends of their lines. Ariadne could tell he wasn't used to checking in with people he'd worked with like this. But she also knew he wasn't used to circumstances like these. She wasn't sure if anyone really could handle it as well as he was.

"Have... Have you started dreaming again since?" she asked, biting her lip. She had to know if there were any side effects; if she was alone.

"Dreams like before I started going under the PASIV? No, no. It's just like Yusuf said. It would be a bit startling to start dreaming after so long, I think. You were still dreaming before all of this, right? Are you still?"

Ariadne heard paperwork shuffle in the background as Arthur spoke. She wondered where he was at. "No. The dreams stopped after the nightmares did," she said quietly.

A pause. "I'm sorry they had to end like that, Ariadne."

"It's fine," she said briskly. "I'm fine. Dreaming wasn't that important to me, anyway."

"Don't say that. Dreaming is very important. Just because you don't do it in sleep anymore doesn't mean you should give up on it. 'Dreaming is an act of pure imagination, attesting in all men a creative power, which if it were available in waking, would make every man a Dante or Shakespeare.'"

"Who said that?" Ariadne asked. "And why do you have that memorized?"

He chuckled. "A man named H.F. Hedge. I have a lot of things memorized for different reasons."

"Do you have dreams, Arthur?" she asked.

"Everyone has dreams," he said immediately.

Ariadne sighed. "Do you dream?"

"I'm only human," he said wearily. "I'm allowed my dreams and imagination, despite what Eames thinks."

They talked a while longer and just before their conversation wrapped up, Arthur posed one more ultimatum to her.

"I know Amy told you that since this mess, you're stuck, but, if you really want, you could leave. You've got one last shot to leave all of this behind. Build the greatest buildings on Earth without having to watch your back or worry about the dangers of the dreamscape."

Ariadne thought a moment. "Instead of answering your question, Arthur, I have one for you. Why are you so adamant about me getting out?"

"I don't like the idea of corruption, in any form. The fact that we dragged you into this... It just doesn't sit totally right with me," he said, hesitant. He had to tread careful, the wrong words were sure to set her off otherwise.

"Corruption? Arthur, just because I don't know a lot about shared dreaming and the dreamscape does not mean I'm this innocent kid you all seem to picture me as. Granted, I'm young, but give me a little credit here. It's getting old real quick," she fumed.

His words had obviously not been careful enough.

She continued. "I get it that this life is dangerous. I'm prepared to face that. I sure as hell won't get used to it if you keep trying to force me out of this. I cannot leave now. I'm much too far in. Not only with knowing things and people, but with the passion involved. Taking that away from me would be cruel. You and Cobb took away my dreams, do not take these opportunities, too."

She hung up on him.

– –

Their plan had been simply complex.

Watch those who were watching over Cobb.

Cobb had designed several complicated algorithms and angles that allowed the ruse of being shot.

The art of illusion outside of dreams. Using reality to their advantage.

For the first time in years, Cobb's training in architecture and measurement were used to his advantage.

However, the theatrical pistol whips Eames had served to his face were very much real, and, if he was ever able to meet him again, he vowed to serve it back to him one day.

Eames knew he had put himself on another shitlist, but as long as it got everyone in their network settled down, he didn't care.

Cobb was a good man with kids to worry about. It would be years before he got any kind of revenge.

Just as long as he didn't have Arthur help him.

– –

Arthur took some time to sit on the sidelines.

He did the odd job of information gathering for some extractors, but didn't take on the mantle of point man with them. He had to put on the guise of grief at losing his partner and a friend.

After his phone call with Ariadne, he distanced himself with her, Eames and the Cobb family in order to gain perspective. Since his first and last inception job, everything he knew had been turned around. Including his view on Ariadne, who was proving to be made of more barbs and nails than he'd originally thought.

All he knew was that he needed to pay more attention to the details. The details, which were supposed to be his forte, part of why he was in the dream sharing network.

And if he couldn't gather the facts, then who was he?

– –

He was dead.

Dominic Cobb no longer existed.

He had a new name, a new life.

With his children, he lived in a new home in a new area.

This game he and the others had planned out had to be explained to James and Phillipa, who were both like zombies.

While they and Miles all still had each other, they were all very much still broken. Their lives, their realities were shredded and they were lost.

This life was supposed to be a new start for them.

But he had no idea how to explain things, how to build things up off the ground in a way that the children could understand and not hate him for.

While not a nightmare, his reality was very much terrifying.

A/N: Well, now. I think my time spent in airports soaked into this. Not sure how I feel about that. Reviews will get you pocket-sized dragons :)

I'm a bit sad we're coming to end tip top of the mountain... But all good things come to an end.

Story recommendation is my own Our War.