Chapter Four

Ariadne knew the minute that Arthur entered the dream. Ariadne also knew that there was no way in hell that he was going to spoil this for her. So, arms crossed, she continued onto the paradoxical rollercoaster in the amusement park she had conjured up, and gladly settled into the seat offered to her by a projection.

And though she was nearly sick by the time she stumbled out of the exit, she haughtily crossed her arms and almost turned up her nose at him.

"Arthur...fancy seeing you here." She didn't bother going any closer than two feet away from him, and her body language made it clear that he shouldn't try to get any closer.

Arthur smirked. "Yes...strange, indeed. I like the roller coaster you've made here. The Pentrose steps, in a backwards roller coaster? Nice touch." Ariadne saw him finger the dice that he carried in his pocket, and couldn't stop her hand from fingering hers, in her back pocket. "Habit, isn't it?" Arthur said casually, nodding towards her arm.

Ariadne glared. "Yeah, it is. Even after all these months of no dreams."

She couldn't bear to look at his eyes anymore. His eyes were screaming for forgiveness, pleading with her. But she couldn't acquiesce. Not this time.

Not after all he did to her.

"Yes, even after all these dreams..." said Arthur softly. He settled on waiting for her to strike.

He didn't have to wait long.

"How could you do this to me?" yelled Ariadne, unable to contain her hurt anymore. "How could you? You know how much it was hurting me, how long it took me to get back to normal!"

The plea in his eyes became stronger. "Yes, and that's precisely why I did it. Because you can get back to normal. I was-"

"Trying to protect me, I know. But I'm not a child, Arthur! You can't just force someone to give up dreams just because you're operating under farcical notions of-"

Arthur couldn't prevent himself from yelling anymore. "Notions? Notions? You think this is because of some idea that I have of myself? Some egotistical-"

"Well it better be that, Arthur, because there's nothing else that could-"

"You have no idea, Ariadne! You have no idea of what could-"

"What could happen? I know very well what could happen, and even if I didn't, you have no right to hide something like this from me just so you can go off and have dreams in secret!"

"This is so much bigger than that, Araidne, and you damn well better believe it!" Ariadne, stunned at Arthur's irate yell, suddenly fell silent—as did the rest of their world. No longer did the joyful music blast from speakers, no longer did the rides ferry gleeful children and adults, no longer did projections merrily buy cotton candy from vendors. No, the only people, the only sounds that left in the park were the silent Ariadne and Arthur, glaring at each other.

"Ariadne, I didn't tell you this before because I didn't want to scare you. I told you I was just about as far along as I was in my dreams as you were, but the truth is, I don't dream at all anymore. I've dreamt about twice in eight years. I knew that if I had told you that, you would have viewed me entirely differently. You would have never done another extraction. I didn't know until about three weeks until after the inception that you were sure of never doing another, and I didn't want to sway you in any way just because I couldn't," began Arthur quietly.

"No, let me finish," he interrupted, as Ariadne tried to cut in. "I didn't mind not having to dream much during those years. You know me when I have a job to do: I'm the famed Point Man," he said sarcastically. "No emotions, just facts. Nothing to do with emotions. I was getting along well with just an extra five minutes on the PASIV.

"But then you came along, Ariadne. And I started to want to dream again. I didn't before, but then I dreaded having blackness every night of my life. You never noticed it, because mostly you weren't at the warehouse late, but almost every other night I was logging in at least 12 hours of time in the PASIV. I was getting close to those men in Mombasa, the ones who need to dream every night or get withdrawal symptoms. After the inception, I promised myself never to do another job in the dream world, as you know. But I knew that I would have to take the PASIV with me, that I would have to start dreaming regularly on it. I thought maybe you could, too—after all, I knew how hard it was to stay away.

"When I saw you at your apartment, though, I knew I couldn't. You were already too addicted; if you started again, I knew you wouldn't stop. You would end up just like the men in Mombasa. I couldn't let that happen to you. I couldn't let you become so dependent. For that I loved you too much. So I tried to stop you. I gave you all of me, so that you could start having normal nights. And you have—you're having one or two dreams a week now, I know that, and soon, within a month maybe, you'll have three or fourth. In another half year, it'll be like you've never been in a shared dream—with the exception of one or two nights, you'll be having regular dreams.

"It's too late for me, Ariadne. I know that's a sorry excuse for the betrayal I've put you through, for the lie and the hardship I've made you go through, but it's true."

Ariadne was quiet for a long time, looking down at the ground, at the totem in her hand—anything but Arthur's pleading eyes. Even though she wanted to stay angry, she couldn't. Not after what he had just told her.

"But we could have dreamt together, this whole time. We could have glorious dreams like this, every night of our lives. We could spend a million lifetimes together-" she started softly.

Arthur was shaking his head. "That was what Mal thought, too. But it doesn't work that way. Relationships aren't meant to be built on dreams. You've seen what happens to those relationships: they began to crumble, just like Mal and Cobb's did. You had to learn how to dream again, Ariadne, because you needed to, and because you could."

"But so do you Arthur! I can't have you become a vegetable, having to be put under for I don't know how many hours, just so you can function like a normal human being!"

Arthur sighed. "It's too late for me, darling. It's too late-"

"No, it's not! If I can relearn how to dream, then so can you!"

"It's not that simple-"

"Yes, it is Arthur. We could make it work. I could help you through it, just like you did with me. You could learn how to dream again-"

"Ariadne, darling, as much as I love you, you can't commit yourself like that. You can't spend so much effort on me. Think of school, of-"

But Ariadne didn't want to listen to it anymore. She didn't want to hear Arthur commit himself, didn't want to listen to his suicide note. No, with two quick strides, she closed the space between them and kissed him, long and hard.

"I want to take care of you, Arthur. I want you to dream again. I don't want to see you become an addict yourself," she whispered, not bothering to let her arms uncross from behind his neck.

"But you've never have to make the choice."

"I'm making the decision now."

Arthur was shaking his head as she stepped away, but she closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, then conjured up the item that she wanted. Very calmly, as if merely handling a small animal, she cocked the Glock 77 and then pressed it against her forehead.

She barely heard Arthur shout "NO!" before a calming darkness claimed her.