And here is the final part. It's been huge fun writing this, even if it was a difficult fic to write. I hope it fills what you wanted, gigundoly! Reviews/comments are love.

The information about the PASIV machines I didn't make up, I just happen to have the shooting script for Inception (did I mention I was obsessed with the film even before this prompt?) and there was a faux-manual for the journal in it.

Disclaimer for the story: Glee isn't owned by me, but by Fox and Ryan Murphy productions. Inception is owned by Warner Bros and Christopher Nolan. I'm just playing in the sandbox.

Two months later, and Anna had taken to playing up at school, leading to the third conference in as many months with her grade teacher and principal. Anna was sullenly silent on the drive home. "How about pizza for dinner, sweetie?" Tina asked, smiling at her in the rear-view mirror, hoping to get her to react to something.

"Whatever," Anna replied. "Pepperoni, though. Daddy's favorite." She'd taken the whole situation with Artie's disappearance far harder than Sam, who seemed to adapt, doing his best to look after Anna, and behave like a model child to help out. Tina was grateful - the days mostly were getting easier, but it was on days like this that all she wanted to do was run away and hide from the world.

"Pepperoni, sure," she replied, trying to keep her voice level as she turned into the street where they lived. She frowned as she saw a car parked outside of their house. "Anna, sweetie, I need you to go inside to your room when we get in, okay? Just for a little while." She was fighting the panic building up inside of her. That car was no good, she thought to herself.

"Mom?" Anna whined.

"Please, sweetie."

"Okay." For once, Anna's reluctance to do much of anything was a blessing. Tina willed her hands not to shake as she pulled into the drive, glancing back at the parked car as she helped Anna out of the back seat. Everything changed as she saw who was getting out of the car.

"Shaft?" she exclaimed, recognizing the familiar form of Matt Rutherford. She opened the door, letting Anna in with a swift 'behave', before going to meet her former Glee colleague, pulling him into a hug.

"Asian," Matt replied, lifting her off of the ground as he returned the embrace. "Looking good there."

"So are you. It's been what, seven years since we last saw you?"

"Eight, but who's counting?" Matt replied, releasing her, then looking down at her. "You haven't changed a bit. Well, apart from the lack of color in the hair."

"Yeah, right," Tina snorted. "Older, definitely. I'd like to say wiser, but I don't think that'll ever happen." She couldn't help the hint of sadness that crept into her voice. The guilt she felt over Artie's disappearance would never leave her. Mentally, she shook herself. Now wasn't the time. "So what are you doing back in Ohio? At least it's not Lima, right?"

Matt gave her an odd smile. "Work, actually. Normally I'm based in New York, but I'm needed over here for a few days. Thought I'd catch up on a few people. I saw Puck and Quinn yesterday."

"Really? How are they?" Tina asked, leading the way into the house. "It's been a while since I've contacted anyone."

Matt followed her through into the kitchen, looking around. "They're fine. Worried, though."

"About what?" It was all Tina could do to keep the casual tone in her voice. Ever since Artie disappeared, she'd deliberately withdrawn from everyone she used to know, apart from Kurt and Mercedes, and they were under strict instructions not to tell anyone. She didn't want to have to explain what happened - especially when she didn't know herself.

"You," Matt said, looking at her carefully, then shrugging. "News gets around fast, Tina, especially in somewhere like Lima. They've left you alone for now, just as you wanted, but they are worried as hell."

Tina stared at Matt for a moment. "You know, that might be the most I've ever heard you say at once," she said weakly, before slumping into a chair. "I couldn't tell them. How the hell do you say 'Hi how are you, Artie vanished a year ago without a trace, and I don't even know if he's alive or dead. Oh, by the way, nice dress'."

Matt took a step closer to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You'd be surprised how easily they get it," he said. "They care."

Tina couldn't help the tears that suddenly overwhelmed her. For the last year she'd done her best to hold herself together for the sake of her - their children, but all of the worry, grief and anger suddenly came flooding out. She collapsed against Matt, sobbing. All he could do was murmur soothing words in her ear, stroke her back and let her cry it out.

Half an hour later, Matt had made them both a hot drink, and Tina was sitting in the lounge. "I'm sorry, " Tina said, taking the drink from him. "I..."

"You needed it," Matt pointed out, sitting opposite her. "Though..."

"Though what?" Tina asked, frowning as she looked at him. "What?"

Matt took a deep breath. "You know how I said I was here for work?" Tina nodded, all the sensations that she'd felt at the sight of the car parked outside coming back. "I work for the DEA."

"You? Government?" Tina said in surprise. "Who'd have thought it?"

"Certainly wouldn't have thought it back in high school, anyway," Matt confessed with a small smile. "But it's a good job."

"So, what does it have to do with why you're here?"

"It's what I've been investigating lately. Look, Tina, I know what I'm going to say will upset you, but bear with me please." Tina nodded warily, though she was confused. "You went to one of those dream clinics a couple of years ago, didn't you?"

"Yeah. How did you know that?"

"The DEA has been involved with slowly closing them down."

"What?" Tina sat bolt upright. "Why the hell has the DEA been closing them down? I would have thought it would have been big news, but I haven't heard anything."

"After their first year of operation, the cost put most people off." Matt explained. "A lot of them simply couldn't afford to keep running. That and the fact that problems were developing - problems with they obviously wanted to keep quiet. You had one of the highly structured programs, didn't you?"

Tina nodded. "I worked with one of their architects for two days, getting thing just right," she said, remembering back. "It wasn't even that complicated a dream, but they wanted to be sure."

"You were lucky. You actually chose one of the good ones to visit."

"Matt. I don't understand. What the hell is going on?" Tina didn't know whether to be angry or upset.

"There were problems with the PASIV machines," Matt said. "Well, the machines and the somnacin drugs used to put people under. In a small number of cases it triggered rapid addictions. For most people it took multiple usage for the addiction to begin, but patterns indicate a high number of addictions to somnacin from just one usage in certain groups of people - generally those who had some kind of problem beforehand. Mental illnesses - a number of people with the likes of eating disorders became addicted quickly because they wanted to remain with their vision of perfection."

Tina felt herself go cold. What Matt wasn't actually saying hit her. "And also people with physical disabilities, right? Especially if they gained a sense of normality when dreaming," she said with growing horror. "I... I just remember how Artie said that he didn't want to leave. Oh god..." She suddenly stood up, then ran to the bathroom where she was violently sick.

It took her nearly ten minutes to pull herself back together, and she slowly walked back into the lounge. She'd caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror before she left the bathroom - eyes red, cheeks tear-stained, hair all over the place. She didn't care. Matt had stayed in the lounge and was looking at a display of pictures of Sam and Anna that Tina had on the wall. He gave her a sympathetic smile as she came back into the room.

"Okay, Matt. You need to tell me what the hell is going on, and just what it has to do with my husband, because at the moment I don't know why you're here," Tina said, trying to stay calm.

Matt nodded and pointed to a seat. "I'll need to give you some background first, though. Stay with me, Tina. I can explain a lot of it, but I'll warn you, it's not pretty." He remained standing as Tina sat down. "We first realized the problems with the machines when someone in the depths of Washington did a study, and uncovered a link to an increased number of suicides. No one quite who's responsibility the PASIV machine was - it was new technology, after all, so they dumped looking at the clinics into the DEA's lap, and I was assigned to the task force to look into it. After the military had tested it initially, it was deemed safe enough for public use, hence all the clinics offering the ultimate dream vacation. But a military mind set, especially those that used the PASIV machines, isn't the same as the mind set of normal members of the public. It started with some ex-military members who used it - there was a sudden increase in violence against family members, friends, colleagues. About ten months after the clinics came into being, we started to notice the same pattern emerging in the normal public who'd used it."

Tina drew in a sharp breath. "But Artie wasn't violent," she said, confused.

"The violence was just one way that people could react. The others tended with withdraw from basically everything. How was he just after the visit?"

"Withdrawn," Tina nodded in confirmation. "He wouldn't interact with pretty anyone outside of the family - only Anna or Sam, our kids, could bring him out of it. After about three months, I persuaded him to see a doctor. He went on anti-depressants, and they seemed to help, at least for a while. Then..." She paused, unsure how to go on.

"Then?" Matt encouraged.

"He was more himself, but distracted. He started working later, then business trips away on short notice." She brushed some tears away. "I thought he might be having an affair," she said quietly. "Then one day - he was just gone. Didn't come home, just utterly vanished. We filed a missing persons report, but the police seemed to think that yes, he was probably having an affair, and just left to start a new life, even though his work confirmed he was working away when he said he was. They only did a basic investigation, and that was fifteen months ago."

Matt nodded slowly. "Consistent," he said.

"Consistent with what?"

"The DEA has set up the task force not only to look at the clinics, but the underground that's sprung up around them. With only a little effort they could build the PASIV machine, offer a similar experience to what they'd had. Feed the addiction."

Tina frowned. "But surely that wouldn't be cheap? I mean from what I've seen on TV about that kind of thing..."

Matt smiled. "Don't believe everything you see on TV, Tina." He suddenly went serious. "But you're right, it isn't cheap." He walked over to the briefcase he'd left behind in a corner of the lounge, opening it up. "Tina, I'm not sure what you've been told by anyone like the police."

Tina started to speak, but the words caught in her throat. "Matt? What do you know? You know what's happened to Artie, don't you?" Matt was still for a moment, then nodded. "Why the hell didn't anyone contact me? Tina was edging towards hysterical now, her voice rising. "He's my husband!"

"Because it's my case, and I wanted to make sure I knew everything before I came to see you." Matt was calm, and it helped Tina regain control. "Okay. Two weeks ago, we got the go ahead to organize a raid on a warehouse where we believed there to be illegal dream machines being used. When we got there, we found the machines, and thirty individuals, all linked up to them."

"Thirty? And how many machines?" Tina asked, horrified. The very thought of it...

"Four machines, all of them spread out between them."

"So... utter strangers were sharing dreams? And this included Artie?" Matt didn't answer for a moment, then nodded.

"I recognized him, of course. Not many small nerds like him in a wheelchair, but yes, he was there. From what you've said, the extra work he was ding before he vanished was to pay for it"

Tina choked back a sob. "But... he's ok, right?"

"Remember when I said that your dream was from one of the better clinics?" Matt said, waiting for Tina's nod. "You worked with an architect, creating a very specific dream. Now, part of the reason we discovered the problem with the machines is that it was discovered there can be several layers to dreams. That's fine if they are structured. Your dream was on the first level, easy to control, time moves at a relatively normal speed, every hour in the dream is just five minutes in reality. But as you move into the lower levels, time moves even more slowly, so every five minutes was now the equivalent of a day, a week... The worst was when we discovered something else. Limbo. It was something outside anything we'd seen before. Completely unstructured dreamspace. Time flows completely differently there. A few moments can seem like months. People were building their own worlds, based on their own memories, which can cause problems. They don't know what to hold back, what to allow in. Psyches can be scary places." He sighed. "Those who have been in Limbo... they generally don't come out the same as they went in. Not after mentally spending years there."

Tina brought her knees up, hugging her arms around them. "You're saying that Artie was in Limbo... and he's changed?" she said eventually.

"Tina, I think you need to come with me to New York, see for yourself, though I should warn you, it's not going to be easy for you."

"Matt, I've spend the last fifteen months trying to figure out what the hell happened to Artie. Any answer is better than none, trust me."

Tina hadn't told Artie's parents much about what was going on, just that she was following up a lead she'd been given. They'd been happy to take the children for a few days, and now she was sat on a plane to New York - somewhere she never thought she'd go back to. As she and Matt walked through the arrivals hall at the airport she was suddenly grateful for his presence. He'd talked more than he ever did at high school, but only when it was necessary. Him being there made this whole experience that little bit easier.

Matt talked to another agent who was waiting for them, who picked up Tina's luggage. "He'll take it to your hotel," he said, before leading Tina outside to a waiting car. Tina spent the car journey looking out of the window. New York seemed so different from the last time she was here. More oppressive. She shuddered slightly, knowing it was all in her own mind, but couldn't shake it off. Matt reached over and squeezed her hand gently. "This is going to be difficult, Tina. Are you sure you really want to do it straight away?"

"Yes. I have to know."

Matt nodded. "Just don't expect him to be as you remember him."

Hospitals were the same no matter where they were, but this... this seemed worse than normal. Tina silently followed Matt, trying to focus on only looking ahead. There were too many people there, too many sick people. After an elevator ride, they exited into another corridor, the only difference here was the way it was set up.

"Some of the money we've confiscated from these businesses go into looking after the people we've found attached to the machines," he explained. "This floor is pretty much only those we've pulled out of them."

"So many..." Tina said quietly.

"Yeah. In many ways, Artie is one of the lucky ones. We actually know who he is. So many of them are simply Jane and John Doe's." Matt led the way, and stopped outside a room. He talked briefly to the nurse who had just come out of it, then looked at Tina. "Ready?"

Tina gave him a wry smile. "No, not really, but I guess I'll never be truly ready, so let's get this over with." She moved past Matt, heading into the room, but stopped just inside it, getting her first glimpse of her husband for over a year.

Artie had always been slight, but for some reason he seemed even smaller now, as if the hospital bed was too big for him. Tina could tell at a glance that the upper body strength he'd built up from pushing himself around for most of his life had gone, the muscles wasted through inactivity. His eyes were closed, his skin paler than normal, hair longer than she had ever seen it, and lank against his head. "Oh, Artie." She moved to the bedside, stroking his hair, then reaching for his hand. It was clasped tightly around something, and she glanced at Matt and the nurse who were hovering around the doorway.

"He's been holding it tightly ever since he was brought in," the nurse explained. "It's a necklace he had on him, something that he managed to keep hold of."

She nodded. "A dragon?" she suggested. When the nurse nodded, she closed her eyes. "Anna and Sam gave it to him for Christmas just before he disappeared."

Matt smiled slightly. "That's good. Considering what he's been through, for him to recognize something, to hold onto it... that's more than most people in this situation can do."

"Will he wake up?" Tina asked, back to brushing his hair back.

"He probably is awake," the nurse said. "He just... can't come out of where he is." Tina glanced up at her, confused. "Mrs Abrams, at best guess when he was found, he'd been in the machine three or so days. Which means that in Limbo, he went through nearly a whole lifetime. We don't know how many times he's done it before. His mind can't comprehend real life now."

Tina sat down, watching Artie's face, refusing to let go of his hand. "So what now? He's like this for the rest of his life... insane?"

Matt came forward, putting his hand on her shoulder, trying to give her some support. "We don't know what's going to happen Tina. He might pull himself out of it, or he might spend the rest of his life like this. It's just completely unknown." He sighed. "I'm so sorry, Tina."

"Does he react to anything?" Tina asked, not taking her eyes off Artie.

"Sometimes he responds to music," the nurse said from the doorway. "A few songs seem to soothe him."

Tina finally turned around. "Is there one song in particular?" she asked, but she had the feeling she knew the answer already.

"Yes," the nurse said, giving her a curious look. "How did you know?"

Tina shook her head, then turned back to Artie and started to sing gently.

Stars shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"
Birds singing in the sycamore tree
Dream a little dream of me