~One of the longer chapters but…bear with me! I hope you enjoy, will update ASAP. Love all who read-MsArtemis~

Part 8-Apathy Aftermath, Piece II

The air was cooler than she'd expected, as if it'd been in wait for her after all this time. It was the kind of surprise you expect from an old book-the dusty pages creak open, unfold, the words and textures jumping out at you in a rush of stiff air; the kind of sensation that a person will forever relish. Her footsteps echoed-she had no idea why she'd chosen this particular space, but, if she remembered correctly-Cobb had said anywhere. But this wasn't even technically a real place, though she wouldn't tell the team that. She'd made this.

It was an adobe missionary that rose upon a grassy hill overlooking the waves. The sky was an unmatched, endless blue that reflected against the jovial sea. Long, rich yellow-green grasses caressed her calves through the fabric of her skinny jeans, (she'd decided to stick with the outfit she'd worn as she'd fallen asleep) the sun's heat comfortable as the breeze stroked her cheeks. Turning her back on the scenery, she decided to explore her little abandoned abbey.

The creamy adobe brick meshed softly with the warm browns of the tiled roof; fuchsia roses and jade ivy climbed the walls, the spots of color adding life to the already bright building. Open arches stood in front of her now-the arches displayed a hallway that led deeper inside the mission-and since she was itching to explore her creation she went down the brick hallway and to the garden. She seemed to forget that the rest of the team would appear there soon enough.

She'd drawn this in class one day-Professor Miles had caught sight of it, shaken his head and walked away, continuing his lecture without pause. From the outside, the abbey was normal enough, sure. But these were dreams-and she wasn't bound to waste the creative space. The hallway led to a crosswalk that led in four directions-she smiled, remembering where to go so easily she yearned to laugh out loud. Taking the straight path she made towards the garden.

The garden lay in the center of the abbey-it was designed to be the heart, the one place where you'd end up no matter which direction you turned. The tunnel finally opened up-and there was the garden. It was a square, really, surrounded by hallways that led to various other places. Balconies overlooked it from each cardinal direction-there was no roof however, and the sun leaked down and made the whole place glitter. It was full of every type of flower and/or plant she could think of-the colors were enriched several degrees higher than normally, making her eyes burn. In the middle of the garden was a pool that noiselessly rippled, the surface smooth and translucent. Smirking Ariadne allowed herself to reach out and touch the hard surface of the nearest tulip, her smirk fading into awe at its texture.

What made this not an ordinary abbey was the random places that ended up appearing normal, but weren't. The garden was no exception-for it was made entirely out of glass. Each leaf, petal, piece of grass-it was smooth, watery glass.

"Beautiful-but not quite original."

Eames stood at the tunnel entrance, stepping out of the shadows as she turned towards him. The sunlight cradled his gleaming white grin, the sparks behind his green-blue eyes. He wore a careless, white button-up shirt and black suspenders. It gave him the total appearance of a school boy; Ariadne restrained the impulse to reprimand him for not being in class.

"Really? Well, what do you suggest Mr. Eames?"

Hands in his pockets he strode to her side, towering over her rather unconsciously as he looked around, the sea breeze ruffling his tawny hair.

"Maybe a secret passageway of some sort-something to spice the place up-"

Until that moment, the hallway across from them had been empty. Now Arthur slipped out of the obscurity of the hall's cool shadows, allowing the sun to stretch across the dark outfit he'd worn to sleep. Hands in his pockets he stepped into the golden glow of the garden, allowing it to swallow him completely. Ariadne's mouth dried temporarily-for he was taking on the appearance of the Arthur she couldn't begin to understand. The Arthur who looked as if he was made out of shadows, starlight, and mystery-that deep semblance of knowledge, stealth, and power that brought up pictures of panthers. And, ever so quietly, she allowed the thought to slip into her mind, allowed it to form-the single whisper that dictated that he was absolutely beautiful.

His chocolate brown gaze met hers as he reached them, standing before them both. Almost immediately Ariadne could feel the kiss of heat in her cheeks that signaled a blush-but this was a dream, she could control anything. So she solidly hoped, that as she threw her eyes to the frozen grass beneath their feet, that the blush disappeared.

Eames caught on, his eyes passing between the two of them quickly before completing his sentence. "And more things that meet the 'more than meets the eye' quota and all that." Ariadne's head jerked upward at the 'more than meet the eye' reference-she met Eames laughing eyes-oh, yes, he had definitely just seen that whole moment and, oh most certainly, was he attempting to play it up. It made her feel cornered somehow, so she lashed out accordingly.

"Do you always sneak out like that?" she accused, crossing her arms as she fixed her glare on the Point-Man.

"It appeared as if you two were talking. I didn't want to interrupt." He was so smooth when he talked-it was if nothing affected him, absolutely nothing. It was singly the most irritating thing Ariadne had ever experienced in her entire 24 years.

"We were. And too bad, you did interrupt it."

"I did not. You stopped talking when I entered. Not my fault."

"Not your fault? Why don't you just make an entrance next time instead of being creeping i-"

"Children, children must we, really-" Eames had stepped in between them, arms raised as if in surrender, when Cobb strode in, concerned.

"Arguing on the job? You two had no problems during Inception." He came to Arthur's side, his golden hair and tux emanating a glow.

"Things were different during Inception. Maybe having your kids on the line made it different for them." Yusuf mused, his hair blown ebony as he came to a stop on Ariadne's right. Ariadne was growing extremely embarrassed-how many people were speculating on her and Arthur's relationship? There was nothing, never would be anything-it was so obvious a blind bat could've figured out. Why people continued to insist there was anything there…Ariadne's ranting was cut off.

"Really, Arthur, from what I knew about you, you weren't one to cause fights often, especially while working. This is something new…" Lacey slid out of the darkness of the hallways like a snake-Ariadne's mouth fell open at the sheer beauty. Lacey hurt the eyes-her hair was the color of burning embers, her eyes the color of the ocean. She was wearing the same outfit as before-but the garden seemed to set it alive, making the dress swirl nonsensically around her, the turquoise fabric rippling like waves. Unlike in reality, however, her hair was down, the long, silky, flaming curls allowed to wander where they pleased. Oh she was absolutely gorgeous-some vengeful angel that Arthur had once known…

"Very bad-boy." She crooned-she passed Arthur so casually, allowing her fingers to skim the length of his shoulders. Arthur stiffened very discreetly as her hand dropped off, her smile dripping poison as she hissed: "I like." Ariadne's heart skipped as Arthur turned, looking Lacey in the face with burning eyes. Their faces were so near, the tension so tight you could hear the whole group breathing. Why were Arthur's eyes burning? Was it because there was something there, still? That him and Lacey were never finished, never had been and that whole kiss on the Inception job was just what it was, work. A way to finish the job, nothing more-but was Lacey really the only one who could make him feel?

Because the way he was looking at her now-there was most certainly emotion there, something Ariadne rarely ever saw when she was with him. And her heart sunk as it occurred to her, that Lacey was the only one who could make him feel anything. Why her? Why was Lacey the one to make ice turn into kindling flame? Why was it this woman, of all of them? The one who was undeniably one of the prettiest things anyone had ever laid eyes on-Ariadne was mud in comparison. And why was this even bothering her? If there was something there still, it was none of her business whatsoever. It still scorched her-and it was about at that moment that Ariadne decided that she didn't like Lacey, and she wouldn't attempt to change her opinion. And, of course, this decision had nothing, absolutely, positively- nothing to do with Arthur.

Arthur turned away from Lacey-she nodded curtly, her smile snide as she wandered to Eames' shoulder, which happened to be at the head of the circle. Eames stepped aside, joining the outer circle-and just like that she was the center of the attention.

"Who's the mark?" Cobb demanded, peering at Lacey with surprising distaste. This comforted Ariadne-she briefly had the childish urge to run to his side, and hug him-he didn't like Lacey, he could see through her too. She was not alone in this.

Lacey regarded Cobb with respect-it was a look that was foreign on her, and Ariadne found herself briefly wondering if her judgment on the woman was too harsh.

"The mark is Andres Hernadez. He's an Arms Dealer from Cuba that…let's just say knows people." Her eyes glittered in excitement at this-she waved her hand dramatically as she continued, receiving a raised eyebrow from Ariadne. The rest of the team stared on blankly, unsurprised, as they had met Lacey before.

"His business is quite successful. Lately, however, it has been going downhill. He has an…obstacle blocking him from reaching the top."

"What would that be?" Ariadne heard herself ask.

Lacey glanced at Ariadne, scouring her up and down twice-and seeing that she was not enough of a threat, Lacey moved on with hardly the flick of an eyelash.

"He has a weed addiction." She announced. "His father introduced him to it at a young age. He's very much struggling to make ends meet due to the fact it's overtaking his life…he can't seem to stop spending outrageous amounts of money in order to get exactly what he wants. And, in order to stay on top in Cuba…he's hired us, to get rid of the addiction completely."

Ariadne's eyes widened, her lower lip opening and shutting despite herself. She had not expected this whatsoever. A weed addiction? And they were expected to…deal with it?

"And you would know how to do this?" Arthur broke the temporary silence, his voice summing up the teams questions.

"Of course, Arthur." She smirked at him. "Just like I told you over the phone."

Arthur stared at Lacey with a mixed expression-his eyes screamed out loud something Lacey was obviously ignoring yet his lips stayed straight and tight. Lacey made the phone call sound personal…Ariadne's stomach sunk at the thought. A reoccurring pattern was showing up; she was just a child to everyone. A newbie, a plaything, something to constantly protect; something to ignore, something that wasn't every inch of the woman she knew she was. And Ariadne-all this staring, and the thought of the job ahead-it was overwhelming.

Without another care she strode toward the pond in the center of the garden, the shards of grass gentle beneath her boots. This was her dream after all-she didn't have to stick around and watch Lacey and Arthur's moments. Pausing by the pool edge she cast a glance over her shoulder; the whole team was watching her, seemingly questioning her sanity. Cobb stared on-his eyes growing concerned as her foot slipped, crystal rocks slipping into the clear water without a sound. He took a step in her direction, his eyes widening briefly-Ariadne felt a pang of sympathy for him. Was her being so close to the edge reminding him of Mal on the hotel roof? The way she hadn't let out a warning, merely letting her whisper float on the air: "If I fall…will I die?"

"Ariadne-"he began, his voice dripping lavender honey. The sympathy wore on her heart, and so she turned to Arthur, who stood nearest. He was looking around Lacey, his chocolate brown eyes fathomless. Hearing her name on Cobb's tongue his gaze switched from the Extractor back to Ariadne-she could almost see the gears click in his mind, could see him catching on to Cobb's fear.

"Ariadne-"

Eames cut the both of them off: "Oh, you two Ariadne's a smart girl she's probably just-"

Lacey flipped her glossy hair over one shoulder, her sea-foam eyes locking with Ariadne's as she placed her hands on Arthur's chest, the nails making a scritch noise on the crisp fabric. Ariadne stayed frozen for a long moment, fire setting her face into a temporary snarl. Arthur, distracted, glanced down at Lacey sharply as she continued to stare at the Architect, challenging her. And, fed up, and somehow feeling caged-Ariadne turned her back on all of them and stepped onto the surface of the pool.

Like real water, it swallowed her up-and then she was falling. One second she could feel sunrays, taste the salt of the sea, and hear Cobb cursing…and then there was the absence of all sound, a silence as she plummeted downward. Closing her eyes she counted the beats of her heart, ignoring the way the wind seemed to scream her name…she'd known this would be frightening. She'd designed this part as well.

With a thump and the stench of dirt Ariadne's back hit stone. Coughing aloud she rolled to the side, waiting till the fit subsided before getting to her feet. As soon as she stood she was concerned-she could have hurt herself even further…but when she looked down could feel no bandage underneath her shirt, no eating-alive sensation that the bullet wound normally gave her. This was her world-she made the rules. She knew she shouldn't enjoy dreaming this much-somewhere deep down, she knew this was as much as a problem as Cobb made it out to be. But in this dream…she pulled back the sleeve of her left arm, exposing the winter-pale skin ever briefly-no pink puncture wounds existed-so she didn't have a problem.

It was when she finally slid her sleeve back down and glanced around that her breath caught. Beneath the pond she had designed a chapel. She had spent most of her effort on the room-it had taken her countless hours to get the details right and she had been so looking forward to taking in the spotless arches, stained glass, and the projections that served as church-goers…

Instead, there was something else. The slate grey stone beneath her boots was covered in layers of brown dirt-grime and ivy decorated the peaked, once colorful windows, throwing the entire room into eerie shadow. The whole place was bare-save for the altar and the mosaic cross that lay above it. And to make matters worse, she was absolutely alone-there was not a single projection to bustle about, no stirring or noise of any sort. It was the kind of silence that perches upon ones shoulders, waiting for the opportune moment to make its weight unbearable... As she gazed around, an awful, familiar feeling crept upon her; the feeling that this hadn't gone as planned.

Arthur thought she was onto something, Cobb knew she couldn't stop dreaming for a reason-they just had no idea why. They had no idea how this feeling haunted almost everyone of her dreams now, how she'd appear and things would be out of place or crumble as soon as she arrived…and the things she'd hear and see. She shivered; this stomach-sinking feeling-it was almost enough to make her want to turn around and run. But as it was, her curiosity was stronger than most metals, so it was with that she called out: "Hello?"

The words seemed to activate something-she didn't have time to scream as all the windows and doors flew open, the dust flying out at her like greedy fingers-and then she was somewhere.

The white tile floor gleamed brightly-until now the projections were so busy they couldn't pay attention. But now, of course, they were staring. Their glares were menacing, empty-it stole the light of intelligence from their eyes, a hint that they were not really human.

"They're still staring."

She felt him next to her, the heat from his body wafting onto hers-wait, hadn't this happened? What was going on-

"Quick, give me a kiss."

Her heart leapt in her throat nearly killing her; in a half second she was peering into his chocolate brown eyes. They were on fire, intent on the kill…she leaned forward quickly, allowing her lips to brush his. Just a simple kiss-but she found herself slipping for control. The taste of his lips was something fresh-of course it would be, it was Arthur-like mint; and she found herself wanting to take this further, her muscles relaxing…she should be pulling away by now. She'd done this before, this was the part where she broke the connection and he said something witty that ended it completely…

His hand slid across, landing on her knee, his fingertips shooting electricity through her body. His lips became fierce-he pressed his body to hers urgently, forgetting about the projections entirely…her hands flew to his face, grasping it as she met him with a fury of her own-this wasn't happening. This didn't happen. This wasn't going as planned…his tongue slid across her lower lip, begging for entrance-this wasn't going as planned. This was wrong. Arthur was smart-this wasn't something he'd do when they needed this whole thing to pull off. She didn't give him the entrance he'd asked for-she yanked her head away, gasping: "Arthur-"

He retracted his hand as she stared at him, as she was left breathing heavily. He wasn't-he wasn't breathing at all, his hand was sliding into his pocket, his gaze shadowy, hostile even; his hand pulled away with a handgun. Ariadne didn't have time to say anything as the tip pressed against her temple, the frosty metal searing the skin…

"What do you know?" His face was so close to hers-but his eyes were black, empty holes.

"How much have you seen?" He demanded, his voice not unlike an infuriated python-it slid into her ears, the anger palpable.

A stab of fear struck her so hard and fast it left her shaking, her hands drawing inward to her lap as he pressed the gun harder, the metal biting her skin with a delicious vengeance.

"You can't kill me. It'll only wake me up."

A frightening grin gave way to a malicious laugh that set her on edge.

"Yeah, that's true. But this'll mess you up for sure. Now-" He clicked the safety off with one, slim finger-she wanted to scream, goddammit-they were not in the garden, where he was beautiful-they were not in the Second Level of Inception, where he was professional-because wherever they were now…he was her worst nightmare. She breathed in shallowly, forcing herself to remain calm.

"why don't you tell me what you've seen? You know too much, you see, and you don't seem to want to stop…"

He trailed off, waiting for an answer-that didn't come. With an exaggerated sigh he looked away-his profile was straight, to the point-God, it was Arthur, it seemed so much like him…whatever the hell he was.

Whipping around to face her again, he seemed stronger-his hand tightened on the weapon, his eyes an incinerating coal-she leapt for an answer, her voice steady, if not quieter.

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Yes you do!" He was growing irritated, his voice having risen to a pitch she'd never heard before. "You know her. You've seen her." Ariadne struggled to grasp his meaning as her eyes dashed around for an escape. The whole place was empty-it was just her and Arthur on the second level of the Inception job, on the bench.

"I've seen you and him…I was told you knew about her. That he'd told you about her…" He seemed doubtful for a moment before he grew exasperated, muttering quickly "I'm getting nothing from you…"

But now she knew: her lungs clamped as she finally understood who this 'her' was and she desperately scrambled for coherency.

"She's dead! She's been de-"She knew her voice was rising on panic; his reply was ironically low and quiet in comparison.

"We know that, Ariadne." Her palms began to sweat in her lap, her stomach dropping as her name crossed his lips. Oh, God, it knew her. He almost seemed sickingly amused, his grin bordering on insane as his eyes leapt like dancing flames. The metal pushed against her skull once again-her eyes flashed to the gun and then to his face. His dark orbs sparkled-and he smirked-Arthur's smirk!-as he murmured: "Sweet dreams."

As the bullet ripped through her head, Arthur's smirk swimming before her eyes, she was sure that somewhere far away, she could hear a glass garden breaking into a million pieces…