Hello dear readers! Long time no see. Well, not that long but I found this chapter hard to write. I don't know if it's just because I'm so emotionally and physically drained right now (I've had an intense week) but this chapter took me f-o-r-e-v-e-r. Anyways, here it is now so I hope it isn't too dreadful! Also, much thanks to everyone who reviewed; you all make my day!

Disclaimer: I do not own Inception.

Arthur's P.O.V.

He didn't know what was more terrifying. The sight of the torn up street clogged with unconscious people and police, or the sight of a familiar petite brunette lying motionless on the ravaged ground next to a coffee shop. He decided on the latter.

"Ariadne!" Jumping out of the car, he ran to her limp form. He could hear Eames sprinting behind him. He checked for a pulse. As he felt the gentle thud of her pulse he let out a silent prayer of thanks. Scooping her up in his arms he started walking back towards the car.

"Hey do you know what in the blazes happened here?" Arthur could hear Eames questioning a policeman on the side of the mangled road. He didn't hear the rest as he walked out of earshot.

He placed her gently in the backseat. Now that the initial shock of finding his favorite architect lying immobile on the ground was wearing off he took a good look at her. There was a cut on her forehead that was gushing blood, but appeared to be slowing down. He ripped off part of his sleeve to staunch the bleeding anyway. She had minor cuts and bruises on her legs and arms, but nothing as serious as her head. As he was positioning her to a more comfortable position a piece of paper slid out of her pocket. He picked it up.

5911 Waterway Ave. NE. Bring the forger with you. Be there by 1 p.m.

"What's in your hand?" Ah, so Eames had finally caught up to him.

"Take a look at this." He dropped the note into the forger's outstretched hand.

"Well I guess we're going to take a little trip," Eames scathingly remarked.

Stepping out of the car, Arthur scanned their surroundings with a critical eye. Broken down warehouse, check. Sketchy dark alley, check. No signs of life, check. Whoever had brought them here had quite the theatrical taste. He glanced at Eames, who nodded, before they both started heading towards the lopsided door of the dilapidated building. He wondered if Ariadne had woken up yet. They had dropped her off at their warehouse, and Yusuf had stayed to keep an eye on her. One thing was for certain, and it was that Arthur was going to personally beat the hell out of whoever had hurt Ariadne.

A sly voice soon broke through his thoughts, "Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite point man."

"Nash." He spoke the name with cold authority.

"Hello, dear Arthur. And you must be Eames?" Nash turned to the forger.

Eames flashed his trademark smirk. "No, actually I'm the Queen of England."

Nash frowned. "Very funny Mr. Eames, but you can see that no one is laughing."

"Nash, what do you want?" Arthur inquired. "And what happened with Cobol Engineering? I thought you were dead."

"I was just getting to that." Nash's slimy voice echoed throughout the empty building. "After you and Cobb so lovingly let Saito hand me over to Cobol I thought I was a goner. However, I struck a deal with them. You see, they're not very happy that you and Cobb failed to extract from Saito."

"We did not fail! We extracted every bit of information he had in there!"

"Blah, blah, cry me a river. The point is, both Cobol and I wanted you two. I want revenge on you two because although Cobol spared my life I didn't walk away unscathed." Nash pulled up his sleeves; Arthur couldn't even see Nash's skin, it was covered with so many bruises and gashes.

"This is all very sad and heartfelt, but what do you want from us?" Eames asked impatiently.

"Although I wanted revenge on my two buddies Cobol had other plans. They need you, Arthur, and your team to perform extraction on someone."

"I'm guessing I don't have a choice." He was raging inside, but the words came out smooth.

"You're right, you don't. That's why I set up the charming run-in with your endearing architect. To convince you that you don't have a choice, and Cobol will find and kill every last member of your team if you refuse."

"Fine, who do we need to extract from?" The words were forced.

"A dear old friend. Are you still acquainted with a Mr. Dominic Cobb?"

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