Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.
Arthur lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly, there was a gentle tap on the door. He blinked, and turned his head, the door coming into focus. As it opened, he saw one of the male nurses - Brett - come in. He was holding a bath robe, and wearing an apologetic smile.
"Hey, Arthur. Time to get weighed." He offered the robe. "Here."
Arthur swallowed. He swung his legs over to the side of the bed. "OK."
"Listen, you don't have to only wear the robe," Brett said, his tone calm, "but you might get searched if you were anything with pockets." He smiled, apologetically, and Arthur frowned.
"Searched?"
"Some of the doctors assume ED patients hide weights in their pockets, anything to make them think they're heavier." He nodded. "Of course, its entirely you're-"
"Oh, no," Arthur said, quickly, as if to reassure the man. "I'll only wear the robe, and my underwear."
Brett nodded. "OK, good man. I'll swing by and get you in a couple of minutes."
Arthur smiled, to give his consent, and proceeded to undress, placing the pants and top on the bed. He looked down at himself. Getting weighed. He already knew he was nothing but a mass of blubber. Even Robert's diet regime hadn't fixed that.
He sighed, and reached for the robe. After a few minutes, another gentle tap, and Brett re-appeared. "All set?"
Arthur nodded. Brett smiled. "Come on."
Ariadne checked that she the piece of paper carefully folded, and placed it in her backpack. Clothes. A torch. Her wallet. She smiled to herself, thinking of how she'd gone to the ATM the previous day to withdraw $300. It might not last very long, but at least they'd have money.
They. Her and Arthur.
She could hear the men moving about. Trent's voice. Eames. No sound of Cobb. Hesitating, she wondered if she should say something, but decided against it. They were part of the reason she and Arthur - especially Arthur - were in this mess. They'd convinced her to participate in the inception, only for Arthur to believe she didn't love him.
She swallowed. A wave of bitterness had bubbled up; it was now forming into a wall of ice, dividing her from her teammates. She and Arthur had no future in the team. They needed to be somewhere else.
Somewhere together.
Shouldering her backpack, she began to head for the door. As she opened it, she suddenly heard Eames' voice.
"That you, princess?" She swallowed, a rush of nerves starting to take hold. "Yes," she replied, easily.
"You going out?"
"Yeah, just for a walk."
"OK, see you later!"
"Of course!"
Smiling to herself, she opened the door, closing it carefully behind her.
"Step on the scale, please."
Arthur complied. He looked down as deft fingers slid the weight along the metal bar. He then lifted his eyes and watched.
"150...148...146...144...142...140...138..."
Keep going.
"134...132...130...128..."
Arthur swallowed. Finally, the weight came to rest.
"124lbs." The doctor scribbled something on a chart, and frowned slightly. "Mr Ogilvie - Arthur- would you follow me into my office, please?"
Ariadne waved as the cab pulled up. The driver nodded as she opened the front door, and slid into the passenger side.
"Where to?" the driver looked at her. She swallowed.
"Could you take me to here?" she showed him the address. He nodded. "Of course. Should take about an hour."
She smiled. "Thank you."
Cobb sat patiently in the waiting room. The attractive young receptionist kept looking at him, nervously, as though she didn't know what to expect. Finally, a buzzing sound erupted from the speakerphone on her desk. Swallowing, she pressed it.
"Yes, sir," she said, her voice sounding dignified. "I'll send Mr Cobb in now." She nodded at the Extractor. Smiling grimly, he got up, smoothing his black suit as he did so. As he entered, Robert Fischer looked up, his expression cold.
"Dominic. Have a seat." His face was impassive.
Cobb swallowed, sitting down. "Thank you." He looked at the younger man. Arrogance was etched firmly into Robert Fischer's features - the Australian was clearly used to getting everything he wanted. Businessess. Contacts. People.
"Where is Arthur?" Fischer leaned forward, his head thrust forward, as though to try and intimidate. Cobb didn't blink. He merely matched the cold gaze.
"Somewhere safe," he replied, politely. He leaned forward. "Somewhere very safe, in fact."
Fischer smirked. "You can't hide him forever. Let me guess - you've finally decided to shove him in a clinic?"
"Even if we had," Cobb replied, careful not to give anything away, "It'll be better for him than being here. What were you doing to him?"
Fischer smiled, cruelly.
"Let's say I decided to - aggravate his condition." He looked at Cobb, his eyes narrowing. "And try and facilitate the idea that you and your team no longer wanted him."
Cobb felt himself bristiling. "That's not true, and he knows it."
"Really?" Fischer raised an eyebrow. "Then why have you hidden him away? Dom-" he leaned forward again - "Give Arthur back to me. For me, he could be very useful. For you, he'll never be anything but a problem."
"I'll be honest." The doctor looked at Arthur, rubbing his forehead. "Your weight is low. Very low. Your minerals are out of balance. Arthur - if you continue down this path, you may not live to see 35."
Arthur blinked, and swallowed.
"Its just-" his voice was soft, defeated. "Its so hard."
"It is," the doctor said, his voice kind. "Arthur, bulimia is one of the most dangerous illnesses that exist. And you probably don't even realise how ill you actually are. But we want to help you. Help you recover."
Arthur swallowed.
"You'll be following a programme of therapy, and nutritional counselling." The doctor smiled, kindly. "We are trying to help you. Really."
Arthur nodded. "I know."
Fischer pressed a buzzer on his desk. "Yes, sir?"
"Get Allie. Tell her to get here now."
"Of course sir."
A few minutes later, Allie arrived in his office. She smiled at the young magnate. "What can I do for you?" she asked, flirtatiously.
"Arthur's gone," he informed her, coldly. "And I suspect he's in a clinic. You need to find out which clinic. And then get him."
She raised an eyebrow. "Do I tell them I'm the distressed girlfriend?"
Robert looked at her. "Now, Allie, that would be lying, wouldn't it?" Getting up from his chair, he walked round and took her chin in his hand. "But you've done such a convincing job of convincing him you care-"
Her face twisted. "It was repulsive. He's a bag of bones." She shuddered. "Getting close to him-"
"But you only have to do it again, once, I promise," he said softly. Leaning forward, he kissed her.
"Can I get you anything?"
Arthur looked up. A young female nurse had looked in. He looked at her, pausing.
"Anything?" She replied. "Ice cream? Strawberries?"
Arthur swallowed. "No, thank you."
She looked at him, sympathetically. "OK."
He swallowed. He did want strawberries. He did want ice cream. More than anything else, he wanted - squeezing his eyes shut, he curled up on the bed.
Ariadne thanked the driver. "Would you mind waiting?" She smiled.
He switched the engine off. "Not a problem."
Nodding, she walked into the clinic. The nurse looked up. "May I help you?"
She smiled. "I hope so. I'm a friend of Arthur Ogilvie."
"Oh, our newest patient." The nurse smiled back. "He's a sweet young man. Are you a friend?"
She blushed. "Girlfriend." She said it firmly, with confidence. The nurse nodded.
"He's in room 32. Go right ahead. Its down that corridor."
Ariadne shouldered the bag, and walked purposefully towards the end of the corridor. She swallowed as she put her hand on the doorknob.
Arthur hugged the pillow. He felt alone, and weak. Swallowing, he heard the door opening.
"I really don't-" he broke off, astonished, as he saw Ariadne appearing.
"Ari?" His voice was hushed. "Are you-?"
She looked at him, and her heart sank. He looked weaker and more vulnerable than he had previously. She walked forward, and began to lace her fingers into his. To her surprise, he didn't pull back.
"I've come to get you, Arthur," she said, decisively. "We're leaving. Together."
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