Wow, so thank you to the ever encouraging/enthusiastic miniamelia13! Glad it interests you! And thanks to cinematherapy. Now bear with me readers…it's gotta get worse before it gets better…

Chapter 6- Such Deliberate Disguises

It was her wiggling around in his arms that jostled him awake. Ariadne pushed at his arms to release her and stumbled out of bed limply. Exhausted, Arthur sat up and asked her what was wrong. Her voice was rugged with sleep as it answered monotonously, "I've got blood on me. I have to take a bath."

Arthur wiped his eyes and looked at the clock, "It's 2 am, Ari."

"I feel dirty. I want to be clean." She insisted.

"Just wait until morning," He slurred.

"I need to be clean." He heard the door close and the bath faucet squeak as it turned, opened and rushed water out of it. Then he was back in his peaceful darkness.

He hadn't felt her damp head return to its spot near his. His body was somehow aware that they were still separated and woke him up. Arthur still heard the peaceful rush of water through the faucet. He looked at the clock to read 2:45. It was time to check on her; she never spent forty five minutes in the shower. He slung his legs over the bed and rested his feet on the carpet with a squish. Arthur felt a spongy wetness in between his toes. As he stood and contemplated, it clicked. The sloshing wetness of their carpet and the sound of a continuous downpour of water…The Point Man was wide awake. He flew across the room and pushed the bathroom door open. An ocean covered their tile and welcomed him in its current. Eyes open but slowly coming to a close, sitting in an overflowing bathtub, fully clothed, water rising over her forehead, was Ariadne. Arthur counted how many splashes it took to get to her and pull her out of the bathtub (he didn't even bother shutting the water off). He frantically carried her and set her on their bed and analyzed her condition. Her eyes had shut and she had stopped breathing. Droplets of the evil water were running down her face like tears.

He was certified to perform mouth to mouth resuscitation and so he did. Simulating a heartbeat and giving her all the air he had to give. It seemed like hours in his shaken state before she responded, spit up the water in her stomach and coughed. Arthur hugged her to him in relief, a relief which faded into confusion when she asked, "Arthur, why are we wet?"

"You…" His voice tapered.

"I had a dream that I was drowning and now I'm wet." Her sentence gave way to the pounding of water forcing its way into the bathtub. He left to turn it off and let it drain, to throw all their towels on the floor and soak up the evidence. 'Why' was a good question. Ariadne wouldn't purposefully attempt to drown herself. Would she? And she was too aware and intelligent to fall asleep as the tub was running…and to get in fully clothed? It wasn't her. She must have been sleepwalking. Ariadne's subconscious had been greatly affected by their dealings with Fischer and it would only get worse before it got better. But when it did get better, Fischer would have a hell of a price to pay for traumatizing her like this.

Though still out of the loop, Ariadne had fetched them both a new pair of pajamas and was already fast asleep back in bed. Arthur changed and slid in next to her, tangled his hand in her damp curls and thanked every force greater than humans that he'd caught her in time; that she was still breathing next to him.

xxxxxx

Two hazel-brown eyes fluttered open to the soft yellow sunlight and the chatter of random people. Ariadne yawned as Arthur turned the tv down to bestow a good morning. She sat up against the headboard like him and wiped her eyes in a manner only described as endearing. "I made you pancakes."

"I'm not really that hungry…"

"That's fine," He turned his attention away from the tv and focused it on her, "But they're chocolate chip."

At this, her eyes brightened and she sat up straighter. "Did you bring up the syrup?"

"And the strawberry milk," He set the tray in front of her with a flourish then felt her small fist clench the neck of his shirt and pull him down to her lips. It was rushed; her sole focus was excitedly back on the pancakes, with fork in hand, before she ever released her hold on Arthur's shirt. He chuckled at her pregnant and proud appetite. She was in the process of devouring her pancakes when she stopped and laughed.

"What?" asked Arthur.

"Just thinking about you…" She giggled with another bite.

Leaning seductively close but having no effect he joked, "What about me?"

"How two years ago I never would've thought that the Point Man, of all people, would be bringing me breakfast in our bed."

He countered, "Well I never thought that the Architect would cast her evil spell on me and force me to be with her."

Ariadne knew he was joking but mocked surprise and hurt. "Geeze…Fine then, that's it. After I finish these pancakes I'm leaving you."

"Don't joke like that," All amusement had vanished from his features, "It's not funny."

Continuing, she teased with her mischievous grin, "I'm not joking. We're over."

"Ari, Stop." He kissed her for reassurance and she relented, rolled her eyes at him for taking her so seriously.

"Well I guess I'll go take a shower then." She laid her fork on her clean plate, took a swig of milk and then moved her tray to her bedside table.

Arthur was quickly up in arms, "Why? You don't need one."

"Because I feel icky and I need to wash my hair." She shrugged.

"Wash it in the sink."

"Too much work."

He paused then added, "Let me come with you."

Missing that his tone was serious instead of suggesting, she replied, "Not this morning Arthur. I actually want to get clean," Ariadne detected a hint of worry in Arthur's eyes, "This isn't about that nightmare I had last night, is it?"

"It wasn't a nightmare. It was real. The carpet is still wet."

Ariadne sighed, she'd had an inkling she'd been sleepwalking. She used to as a kid and teenager. When she was too stressed about something, Ariadne would sleepwalk. Last time she sleepwalked was right before finals during her last term at University. However, she'd never woken up so drastically. Normally Ariadne would sleep design or talk to walls or wake up on the couch, show up in her parent's room and just stand in front of their bed looking at them, she'd even peed in the kitchen trash can on accident once. On the whole though, Ariadne had had phases of sleepwalking her whole life and was used to it, so she tried to brush off her near drowning experience as a funny little joke. Arthur, however, had never seen her sleepwalk. He knew enough to know that when people sleepwalk they can talk and act like they're awake which was proven by last night and it scared the hell out of him.

The Architect tried to soothe him, "Well, I was half asleep. I'm wide awake, now. I'll be fine."

Before she swung her legs over the side, she felt Arthur's nose in the crook of her neck, "You almost drowned," he whispered.

"I'll keep the door cracked and talk to you the entire time if that'll make you feel better."

Arthur took a deep breath into her skin and wrapped an arm in front of her. Insistently, she pulled it off and stood to face him. The water collected between her toes and made her wince, "And then I'll make us a big lunch and we can have a picnic at the park. The one with the fountains, we haven't been there in a while…" She coaxed and smiled hopefully. With a kiss on his cheek she was gone and the eerily nauseating sound of gushing water was flipped on.

xxxxxx

She peeked her head around the corner. Red rimmed eyes, trembling.

Arthur was laying on the bed, engrossed in his research. He'd heard the door open and close and heard the rustling of her keys but hadn't felt it necessary to move just yet. When he looked up and saw his fiancée in such a state, his laptop was tossed to the side and he was at hers immediately. "What's the matter?"

"I-I had my check up this morning. Remember? I've been feeling that lump…?"

Arthur's face darkened, "Oh God…they run any tests?"

"Several. I-I don't know how to tell you…" she started hiccupping.

The man took her shoulders and bore into her eyes seriously, daring her to lie to him, "Ariadne, just tell me. It's cancer, isn't it?"

Her eyes widened and she shook her head, "No it—it isn't cancer."

Arthur took a huge breath of relief before she continued, "It's—I'm…Arthur, I…."

"What?"

"I'm pregnant."

She analyzed his eyes. "Mine?"

"Whose else's would it be?" Her voice became timid.

Arthur's eyes lit up, a grin grew, his dimples stamped his irrepressible happiness on his features and he started to tear. He removed a hand from her shoulder to cup her face, "Ari…"

"You-You're not upset?" Her mood was now lifting, her own lips turning upwards. She was so worried that traditional, proper, Arthur would be upset that they'd had a child before wedlock.

His eyes were huge, gleaming. His smile never faltered, it only grew bigger. "How could I be upset? Y-you're carrying my baby, our baby." He was tongue tied, "We-we- made a-a baby, Ari!" He chuckled, "Our love made a baby…"

He pressed his lips to hers gently and then picked her up to twirl her around in their foyer. She giggled when he put her down and closed the space between them once more. Then Arthur jerked away suddenly, eyes wide, scared. "I didn't hurt you did I? That's not going to hurt the baby is it?"

Ariadne snorted at him. Arthur was overly concerned, over protective and super attentive to begin with. He loved her, it was his nature. Now that she equaled two things that he loved, he would take those characteristics and make them even more excessive. "No. I'm barely two months; the baby is the size of a grain of rice." She patted his face, "No need to baby me, yet."

He felt giddy again, "Baby," he repeated, trying to physically shake the grin off his face. Then questioning with his eyes he lowered to his knees. Ariadne raised an eyebrow before he lifted her shirt and rubbed his thumb just across the top of her belly button. Her waist was still thin, stomach still flat. Then he placed a feather light kiss and gazed lovingly at it, almost entranced.

When his eyes met hers again, she saw fresh tears, "You never stop creating beautiful things, do you?"

xxxxxx

The three nights since the incident, Ariadne had been plagued with nightmares worse than the ones of her drowning. She would wake gasping for breath, crying hysterically, phantom pains in various places. She would tremble, her hands would feel bloody and sometimes she would stare into space because her mind would take longer to wake up than her body did. She would call out for Cobb, Philippa, James, even Eames. Only two times of the hundreds did she call out to Arthur and the exact phrases had been "Arthur, please don't!" and "You're scaring me, Arthur!"

Arthur had nightmares, too, when he actually slept. He'd tried five times. (Yes, he counted.) Twice the images were too vivid, too filled with guilt and blood for him to stand closing his eyes. And the other three were because the girl by his side had made sleeping impossible. He wouldn't take the chance of having a peaceful, dreamless sleep and leaving her to wake up distraught and alone. No, he welcomed the responsibility of patiently waiting for her to come to, wiping the beads of sweat away, pretending to wash her hands free of the blood and rocking her back to sleep. He never let on how unnerved he was that she never called for him. That after she woke and before her mind caught up with her, she was terrified of him. Wouldn't let him touch her. He never told the Ariadne who was fully conscious and aware of herself, that every time she yelled for someone else to help her, it stung worse than the guilt and the grief. It cut deeper than his freshly committed sins.

He was tapping a nameless melody on the nightstand when he felt her start to squirm around. They had been frequent tonight. She'd been waking up with phantom pains in her shoulder and back. Sometimes her stomach. Yelling in pain, like normal. Crying hysterically, calling for Phillipa and James the most tonight. This time was no different. "Not the kids! No! James! James is a baby! Please!" Arthur turned and prepared himself. Like clockwork, she bolted up, this time clutching her stomach. She was groaning and hiccupping. "It's ok, Ariadne. Wake up. Come on, wake up."

Ariadne blinked a few times and then looked at Arthur and her eyebrows temporarily unfurrowed, breathing slowed. She'd come to much faster this time. The Point Man smiled sympathetically and tucked a hair behind her ear. They were pros at having conversations with their eyes. He was saying "You're so brave," "It'll be ok," and "I'm so sorry," all at once. Ariadne was in the middle of returning a melancholy smirk when she doubled over in pain again. Grunting through gritted teeth.

"Hey…hey…" Arthur tried to soothe her, "The pain is all in your mind. You're safe now."

She paused. Calmed her terse breathing and slumped with her head in her lap. He couldn't see but her eyes widened. She felt the sickeningly familiar feeling of blood trickling. She leaned back, looked under the covers and sure enough…it was there…but normally it was on her hands when she had these night terrors. What was happening? She threw the covers off of her and dove out of bed, knocking into her bedside table and causing it to topple. She could feel the drip down her limbs…"Oh no…"

"Ariadne…" He called calmly, used to her strange behavior, and got on his knees on the bed. He attempted to cross over to her but she was already making her way across the room.

"I'm bloody. I'm bleeding!"

He sighed and coddled, "I've got the washcloth, sweetheart. Come back to bed. I'll clean your hands."

She yelled at him in full panic, "You don't understand!" She thrust herself into their bathroom and slammed the door shut…the click of the lock taunting him.

Arthur followed to stand at the door. He opened his mouth to try and coax her out and had been cut off by her own voice, talking to herself. "No…Oh no…please, please…no."

A few seconds passed, "Shit. Shit!" He heard her howl like she was being tormented and this, this caused him to finally knock, "Ari?" He called.

She ignored him with a final wail. "Ariadne. Are you ok?"

Arthur heard a gasp. "No! No—Oh my God! Oh my Go—"

"Ariadne! What's wrong?" he knocked harder, only to hear the sound of her retching her guts out. "Shit! Shit—No!" The loud thump of her hitting the wall, her fumbling around, wailing and weeping and he was on edge, resorting to pounding on the door, "Ariadne! What is wrong? Let me in!"

The voice he heard didn't belong to his fiancée. It was broken, breathy, filled with sobs. This couldn't be his future wife. "Go away, please."

Ariadne slid down the far wall and cradled her head in her hands. She foggily heard the door handle jiggle violently, "Let me in. Let me see you!"

"Please. I don't want you in here! Leave me alone!" It cracked and changed pitches without her consent.

Arthur couldn't hide it in his voice. The way her last words had hit him, that she didn't want him in there with her. He was less demanding and more pleading the next time he opened his mouth, "Just let me see you. Let me know you're ok."

He'd had to strain to hear the soft words through the door, "I'll never be ok. I could never be ok after this…" then in contrast a sob bubbled forth. Arthur couldn't take it anymore, he needed to know what she was going through. He backed away from the door, and then launched himself into it. Her head darted up and she looked at him with shock, devastation and embarrassment. He froze upon the sight.

Ariadne crumpled in the corner against the wall, a folded towel next to her. Everything tossed around, the nauseating sight of her blood trailed all over the clean crème tiles. Bloody handprints smeared across the sink, the tub, the toilet, the floor. The ends of her shirt, her pants and her hands stained, ruined with the same crimson liquid. Alarm transported him to her side, cupping her face. "Are you ok? What happened? Did you cut yourself!"

She shook her swollen face and choked out several more whimpers before she could meet his eyes. "Arthur…" she strained.

"What? What can I do? How are you hurt?" His eyes grazed over her tainted clothing and skin.

She shook her head and whispered, catching his attention again, "The baby…"

Arthur went numb from head to toe. He had to lean against the wall as well, analyzing the state of the bathroom and trying to find another explanation. It was then that he saw the miniscule form lying on the towel next to her, and it was then that his eyes shut, his head hung and he began to heave. "Oh God…"

Fresh tears erupted from her, "I'm so, so, sorry Arthur…"

"No…no, Ari…" he pinched the bridge of his nose and composed himself so he could focus on comforting her. "It's not your fault. Trauma is a common cause for…m…miscarriage…"

Ariadne had quieted considerably. Her eyes had glazed over and she stared ahead. Hearing the M word had flipped a switch inside of her. "Come on, Sweetie, let me change you and carry you back to the bed."

The architect shook her head, "The bed is bloody. I'm bloody," she muttered incoherently, detached.

He kissed her forehead and promised to be right back. Sure enough, her side of the bed had a patch of blood and few droplets had fallen on the floor. He changed the sheets emotionlessly and robotically returned the bedside table to its exact previous state. He retrieved her favorite pajama set and a clean pair of underwear. It was like changing a mannequin. She was limp, unmoving, of no help. Her mind had rendered her body paralyzed.

Arthur carried her to the bed and tucked her in. He left her there only because he needed to clean up the bathroom, rid the evidence of loss. He cleaned until his entire body smelled of bleach. The bathroom looked new, would sparkle in the proper light. No trace of blood or bile or tears. The fetus, he gently placed in a shoebox and tied a red ribbon around it. Ari's favorite color. It was a boy, like she'd hoped and he'd begun to hope too. Once she was better, they would bury him together for closure. He laid it by the front door and returned to his fiancée.

She was still awake. Lying on her side, staring at the wall. He kneeled by her and caressed her face, trying to smooth out her worry lines. They didn't suit her. He was tracing her lips when she met his eyes and seemed to come back from wherever her mind had traveled to. "Arthur…?" she sounded hoarse, the result of endless tears.

He reverted back to sweeping the back of his fingers up and down her cheekbone, "What, Sweetheart?" he murmured.

A few more of her tears had shed, "It hurts."

"I know…"

"I-I feel so empty."

Arthur's eyes shined with water, "Ari…" he used his thumb to rid her face of the teardrops that shouldn't grace it.

"I'm so sorry." She breathed. Fresh tears were pooling in her eyes again.

"Stop staying that," he lovingly traced her jawline, "It will never be your fault."

They stayed in silence. Her bloodshot looking eyes stayed clung to his and his hand rubbed itself along her neck. Surprisingly, it was she that broke the quiet. "Will you rock me like you do when I have a nightmare?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course, Ari." He made his way around and crawled in next to her. He waited for her to nestle into him and then he wrapped his arms around her and swayed back and forth lightly, nuzzling his lips in her hair.

Xxxxxx

Well…yeah… that was dark and not so happy. But as always review equals update!