Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.
Arthur sat on the bed, waiting. Waiting for the nurse that would lead him down the hallway to Ariadne. He could feel the tension rising within himself, and took a deep breath.
Control your emotions, he told himself, firmly. As he exhaled slowly, he heard the key turn in the lock. The clinic's habit of locking him in was something he accepted. He looked up, to see Tom standing in front of him.
"Right, come on." He grabbed Arthur's upper arm, and before the Point Man could move, hauled him to his. He chuckled. "Jesus, you're really piling it on!" He smiled at Arthur, cruelly. "I guess all that bed rest is doing you good!"
Arthur swallowed, and kept his temper. He smiled placidly at Tom. "Let's go."
The nurse raised an eyebrow. "Not sure I like you being so co-operative." He pulled out his baton. "I'm warning you, Ogilvie - any funny business, I'll have you flat on the floor. Understand?"
Arthur nodded. "Of course."
"Right. This way."
Ariadne sat, waiting. She was already hooked up to the PASIV. Greenwood smiled at her, kindly.
"You don't need to worry," he said, gently. "All you'll be doing is going into Arthur's thoughts again. Seeing how he is. You understand, don't you?"
Ariadne nodded. She knew the only way out of this nightmare was to agree to everything that was said.
"Good." Greenwood nodded towards a table. "I'd relax if I were you. Lean back."
She did so, back into the lounger. Suddenly, another nurse darted forward, and laid a tissue over her face. She gasped and struggled, but slumped, her eyes closing. Greenwood observed her with a look of satisfaction.
"Perfect." He turned back to the nurse. "Completely vulnerable."
Cobb blinked. He'd been woken by the vibration of his cell phone. Picking it up, he brought it to his ear. "Hello?"
"Hello, Dom," a smooth voice slid from the tiny device. "Good of you to answer."
"Robert?" Cobb frowned, and began to sit up, remnants of sleep sliding away. "What is it?"
"I'd just like you to know that Arthur and Ariadne are safe." Robert's voice was gentle. "Which, considering what he did, is very generous of me."
"Which was what?" Cobb's anxiety was beginning to mount.
"Well, he tried to escape, and locked me in the motel that he was hiding in." Cobb could hear the barely suppressed anger in Robert's voice. "He does have courage."
"He's the Point Man. He has to." Cobb lowered his voice. "What are you doing to him?"
"To them."
Cobb's blood began to freeze. "You've got Ariadne as well?"
"Oh, they're both safe...for now."
Cobb felt a white hot surge of anger. "You had better not hurt them-"
"Oh, stop the macho posturing," Robert interrupted. "It doesn't work. They are both safe, and I guarantee one will be returned to you. But which? See if you can work it out!"
Cobb blinked. He was left with a buzzing noise of a dead connection.
Arthur swallowed as he was led into the room. As he saw Ariadne, his eyes widened. He turned to Greenwood. "What have you-"
"Calm down," Greenwood said, coldly. "And sit down!"
Arthur did so, looking at the young woman. She was fast asleep, the IV trailing out of her arm. He proferred his own, and let the IV be plugged into it.
"Remember," Greenwood said, his tone cold. "You are to go in, and extract any trace of you from her. She'll forget you even exist."
"But I'll remember," Arthur said, looking at Greenwood. "I'll remember her."
"You will." Greenwood smiled. "It will be the worst punishment ever. Someone you actually love...and they have no idea who you even are." He looked at him. "But you and your bulimia will be very happy together, Arthur. That is the real love of your life."
Arthur flushed red, and glared at the psychiatrist. "If you say so."
"Lie down."
Arthur did so, and Greenwood picked up the IV, and pushed it into his arm. "Sweet dreams." He pressed down the centre of the PASIV.
Arthur blinked. He was sitting in a garden. As he got up, he realised he was wearing a suit - a soft grey one. A smile tugged at his mouth - he knew how much Ariadne liked him in suits. He then noticed that he was in the garden of a suburban house. Standing up, and brushing himself off, he began to walk towards the back door. He pushed it open, noting that the air was scented with cinnamon and ginger.
Cookies. Freshly baked cookies were sitting on the table. He looked at them.
"I can have one," he told himself. "I don't need to eat them all!" He bit his lip, pausing, and then reached for one. Suddenly, it was snatched out of his hand. He blinked, and turned.
"Arthur! They're still hot!"
Ariadne stood next to him, shaking her head. "Can't you wait?" she scolded, playfully. She looked at him, his reflection mirrored in her large brown eyes. Leaning over, he kissed her on the forehead. "No," he said, grinning. "I can't!"
She shook her head, smiling. "Really, Arthur, you're just too bad!" She held up the rack that contained the cooling biscuits. "They'll be ready in a couple of minutes, I promise!"
He nodded. "Great."
She turned to him, biting her lip. "Arthur, am I being-" she paused, and flushed.
"What?" he asked, looking at her, intensely. "Are you being what?"
"Cruel," she said, sitting down. "I mean, I bake you cookies, and you're-"
"Ariadne, I can control it," he said, looking at her. "I don't need you to baby me. I can eat without having to gorge."
"But, what causes it?" she burst out. Arthur blinked, and rubbed his forehead.
"I don't know," he said, honestly. "Feeling inadequate. Feeling as though I'm not good enough. Feeling as though any minute, I'm going to screw it up. Thats probably what helps cause it."
"But Arthur..." Ariadne felt her voice fade. "But, Arthur, you're so-" she shook her head, unable to finish the sentence. Sitting opposite him, she swallowed.
"So, what do you want to do?"
"Shall we-" he paused, the enormity of what he had to do suddenly settling on him. He could feel tears prickling the back of his eyes. "Go upstairs?"
She smiled. "Lets."
He got up, leaving the cookies behind him, and slipped his arm around her waist. As they walked through the hallway to the stairs, he noticed the decor. Tasteful, but cosy. He kissed the top of her head. He could almost feel his heart wrenching itself apart.
They reached the bedroom. Ariadne opened the door. Arthur swallowed. "Ari, listen, please. There's something you should know."
"Whats that?" she asked, pulling him close.
"This is a dream," he said, flatly. "Its a dream. And we're in it because I have to do something."
She looked at him, her eyebrows lowering. "What?"
"I have to perform an extraction." His hands were shaking, and he gently disengaged her grip from around his waist. "Ariadne, listen to me. We can't be together. Its too dangerous. I'm a risk. I'm sick, I need care, and I can't burden you anymore. I'm going to remove any trace of me from you, and the, you're free to go. So are the others."
She took a step back. "No," she said, her voice quiet. "You are sick, but you need to let me help you."
"Ariadne, look at where we are!" Arthur's exasperation was rising to the surface. "We're currently in a clinic that Fischer is bankrolling. If you let me do this, he'll leave you alone. You'll have no connection to me anymore. But to stay with me-" he swallowed. "If you stay with me, you'll be with a sick man who is under Fischer's thumb. Is that what you want?"
She opened the door, and led him into the bedroom. "Arthur, I know you're sick." She looked at him. "I saw you bingeing, and I want to help you." She swallowed. "But, I won't let you go to Fischer. I just won't."
"Then what do you suggest?" Arthur turned his head. He was half afraid that Greenwood, or one of his goons, would walk in on them at any moment. "Being with a bulimic will be hell for you. Half the time I'm trying not to binge, the other half I want to." He looked at her. "Is this what you want? Being with someone you have to monitor? Someone whose life is ruled by his weight,because he can't confront the issues he's buried? Being with someone who will never be content? Is that what you want?"
She nodded. "I'll cope." She looked at him. "We'll have to."
"How will we survive?"
She shrugged. "I'm an architect. You can research. We'll get normal jobs, live like normal people." She looked at him. "You can get treatment. I'm not letting you go. You've coped with this long enough."
He kissed her. "If you're sure-" reaching past her, he opened the door. Past the bedroom, he saw the safe. His skin prickled, and he looked down into her eyes. Deep brown, laced with gold. He swallowed.
I have to do this, please forgive me.
He kissed her forehead, and began slowly tracing a line down to her jaw. She responded, wrapping her arms around him. He began to pull her over to the bed, and started to lie down. "Come on..."
She didn't hesitate. He stroked her side. "Oh, Ari-" he nibbled her neck. She responded by kissing him. Suddenly, he pulled away, and went for the safe.
"Arthur!" She looked at him, her jaw dropping. "Arthur, you wouldn't!"
"You deserve more than this!" He shouted. "You can do better than a sick, twisted bulimic who kowtows to Fischer!" He began to fumble with the combination. Her birthday. He started twisting the dial, desperate to pull her memories of him out, and destroy them.
"Arthur!" Ariadne's voice was desperate. "Don't do this!"
"I don't have a choice!" he snapped. He began to open the door, immediately spotting the envelope inside, marked "confidential." He reached for it.
Suddenly, he felt a burning pain in his shoulder, and screamed. He turned Ariadne was holding a gun, and lowering it. Her large brown eyes were full of fear. She'd shot him, directly in his left shoulder. He turned to her, the envelope still in the safe. He fell on his knees to the floor.
"You-" he looked at her.
"Improvise," she said, shakily. She reached past the wounded man, and grabbed the envelope. Taking it with her, she began to run.
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