Placebo – Meds

The wall was melting. "Weeeeell, not really melting, per se," Arthur thought. But it was definitely doing something very strange. "Maybe, maybe dripping is a better word. Yeah, dripping. That's better. No, melting is better. She likes words that starts with the 'Mmmm' sound," Arthur pondered to himself, staring at his apartment wall, trying to think of verbs.

He was distracted by the sound of footsteps echoing outside his door. Arthur jumped up, almost tripping over his open briefcase in his haste. He practically ran to the door, swinging it open with flair. "Ariad-" he started enthusiastically, stopping mid-word when he saw who it was: Cobb.

Arthur immediately sobered up in the intimidating man's presence. Arthur struggled to remember all that had happened to the man he reported to, but he didn't let it get to him.

Cobb had stopped in the middle of the doorway, looking expectantly at Arthur. He had just thrown open the door to him after all…

Cobb watched as Arthur straightened a little and cleared his throat.

"Cobb."

"Uh-oh," Cobb thought. He could see the look in Arthur's eyes. He'd done it again. "He's off his meds."

"Please, Arthur. I told you to call me Dom." Dom had a pretty good idea what Arthur he was talking to: The Point Man. Focused, intense, in control, on-top-of-things Arthur.

Arthur ignored the last statement. "So, do you have any idea what we are going to do for the final kick with Fischer?" Arthur closed the door behind him, beginning to walk slowly down the hall to the stairs with his partner. He hoped Ariadne wouldn't show up while he was gone.

"Oh no, some poor sap's been added to the gang," Dom thought. When Arthur was like this, which happened to be quite a lot lately, he simply played along. Secretly, he was fascinated by this world Arthur had created – where people can go into another's dreams, take things away, plant ideas. Just think – Ideas! It was amazing to him. Dom just didn't understand why Arthur thought that Mal had – even the thought brought a sharp pang of pain to Dom's heart. Anyways, the storyline Arthur had unintentionally fabricated was incredibly deep and complicated, but Dom had figured it out over the course of a year's worth of conversations. That's when he, his wife, and their two children had moved into the beautiful old building at almost the very center of Paris.

"Well, the force of the other kicks all combined should be enough to shock us out of the sedative. And if not - if something goes wrong - the flight attendant should just be able to inject us with the counter-kick and we should wake up within minutes."

Dom had been through this scenario a handful of times. From what he gathered, a one Mr. Saito had propositioned Dom with the task of inception, which is apparently even more difficult than extraction. If they succeeded, Dom would be able to return to his children.

They reached the entrance to the stairs, opening the doors – coming face-to-face with Eames, a man who rented downstairs.

"Arthur, just the man I was looking for."

"Yes, well. What do you need, Eames? Weren't you about to go under?" Arthur answered, obviously annoyed.

Eames shot a glance over to Dom, who answered his silent question with a slight nod and a sorry, pitying look in his eye.

"Yes, so I was. Thanks, mate. Almost forgot," Eames said, seeming a bit cheekier than he had been when they first encountered. He was slipping into his role. "Say, where's lovely Ariadne, mate?" Eames said with a wink. "Thought you'd have already snagged her, yeah?"

Arthur visibly stiffened. "Eames, go plug yourself in – I'm busy."

Dom stood there, arms crossed, watching the two banter easily back-and-forth.

"Oh, darling, I'm offended. But, now that we're on subject – What did you need Ariadne for, anyway?"

"I wanted to go over her paradoxes again," Arthur answered curtly.

"Oh-ho-ho!" Eames laughed boisterously, making Arthur jump and turn to glare at the brit. "Whoever said you weren't afraid to dream a little bigger, darling!"

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed, a sure sign he was not amused. Cobb sent Eames a disapproving glare for egging the poor man on. Eames always did this.

Before Arthur could get a word out, Eames cut him off with a wave of the hand, "Anyhoo, I must be off. Got to go, eh," he stammered, seeming to search for the right word. "Research… Browning?" He looked at Dom, who nodded at him. Eames turned to the stairs and started to go back down, having to move aside as a small boy made his way up. Dom saw him waved to James as he made his way over to the two men.

"Hey, James. What're you doing up here?" Dom reached down and scooped him up, a warm smile on his face.

"Cobb! Where did that kid come from? The warehouse is locked!"

Dom refrained from slapping his forehead. "Shit, he doesn't remember. Meds."

"Uh, I don't know, but I'll check it out," Dom said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Arthur patted the back of his waistband, where he usually kept his gun. If the warehouse was unsecure, Cobol could have gotten in. Hell, anyone could've if this kid did. Coming up empty, Arthur realized that he had left beside his bed, on the table, in his apartment. "Well, shit."

"Hey, Uncle Arthur," a small voice brought him from his thoughts. Arthur looked down at the child in Cobb's arms, speculating where he could have come from and how in the hell did he know his name? "What a sick, dirty, trick, Cobol. This is low."

"You look funny." James giggled. "Are you sick, Uncle Arthur?" the small boy asked, sinking further into Cobb's embrace, away from the scrutiny of his so-called-Uncle's gaze. Uncle Arthur was funny sometimes. Daddy told him not to say anything. Daddy said that Uncle Arthur was just silly, and that if he said anything he would hurt Uncle Arthur's feelings. And he didn't want to do that – He loved Uncle Arthur. "Why do you wear suits all the time?" James asked, his child-mind already forgetting his first question and onto the next.

"I like penguins," Arthur said cooly, turning away. "Cobb, if you could," he said, making his way back to his flat. Arthur rounded the corner with his fast gait and wasn't seen again.

Dom followed the Point Man with his eyes as far as he could. "Ah, well. He's a good kid."

He looked down at James, Daddy-mode again. "C'mon, James. Mommy's making you and Phillipa dinner."

The child's eyes lit up. "Is she making me a dinosaur sandwich?"

"I don't know, buddy."

"Is she making me dinosaur macaroni?"

"Maybe."

"Is she making me Dinosaur –"

"We'll just have to wait and see, won't we," Dom cut off, carrying him easily down the stairs.

~vOvOvOvOvOv~

Arthur reached his apartment, closing the door behind him and turning to find that the melting – dripping? – melting thing had spread to another wall. He sighed. He lay back on the couch, feeling that nagging sensation come back to bother him. It's as if he had forgotten something - something really important. But what good was that when you couldn't remember what it is that you'd forgotten? He watched as the setting sun made a line along his wall. The one that wasn't doing whatever it was that the others were doing, anyway. Feeling to alone for his liking, Arthur strode up and out the door. He strode down the dim hall, coming to the stairs and taking them two at a time, feeling as though he was falling. Reaching the first floor, he walked briskly out of the lobby, ignoring Yusef, who was staring at him from behind a low table, his cat slinking through his legs.

Arthur crossed the large room and went through the rotating door, looking for Ariadne.

He walked briskly down the sidewalk, ignoring the looks the passersby shot him – as if they had seen him before. As if this was abnormal, yet all-too-familiar behavior. And there's the nagging thing again," he thought to himself as he stuffed his hands hurriedly into his pockets. He regretted just walking out in his shirt and now, the night was getting chilly. Arthur's shoulders hunched against the wind as he kept his head up, looking for another head, one covered in soft brown curls.

After a few minutes of walking he saw her familiar form striding closer to his. Arthur ran over to her, coming to stop right in front of her, making Ariadne jump a little and quickly pull her ear buds out. "Arthur," she smiled brightly, reaching to pull him in for a hug. Arthur slightly leaned back, surprised at her unusual show of affection. He almost immediately got over the initial shock, and he happily relaxed into the hug, wrapping his arms around her short, tiny body and resting his head atop her beanied-one.

Ariadne smiled into his tie, breathed him in. Her Arthur. She backed up and Arthur let go of her a little reluctantly. Looking into his eyes, Araidne's gleamed with realization. Oh. He'd done it again. Oh.

"Oh, shit. Again. Goddammit, Arthur!" But she couldn't stay mad at him – he had his reasons, whatever they may be. And now she'd gone and made it all weird, because he was just staring at her. They were both just standing there on the street, starring at each other. Because Ariadne and Arthur had gotten to this point. But not Ariadne and the Point Man.

"You said you needed help with paradoxes, Ari."

"Oh, yeah. Proffessor Myles is kicking my butt with all the Escher, and I know you're interested in them, so I thought you would be the best person to ask for advice."

"Quite right, too," Arthur said, quickly turning and making his way back to the building. He turned to see if Ariadne was following, which she was, and there was that nagging sense again. Arthur had forgotten something and it was like a bug crawling across his scalp, right under his skin, scratching some memory away.

He pushed the feeling aside. They only had one more week before the plane from Sydney to Los Angles would be taking off with Fischer in it. And Eames had forgotten the name of his forgery. Idiot.

A/N: Eh, I guess this could be taken as an AU fic. Or maybe all the others are AU... Think about that.