Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.
Arthur blinked, and looked round. Ariadne had disappeared, and so had the projection. Swallowing, he pushed his glasses up, beginning to feel a tremor of concern. This was Ariadne's dream - and it was darker than he'd thought possible.
He shuddered, then readjusted himself. He needed to find her, to help her. Turning, he caught a glimpse of his reflection. He couldn't help but think that this casual ensemble made him appear more youthful, and carefree.
Maybe that was the approach he had to take. Swallowing, he began to walk, and pushed open the door.
To his shock, he was standing in the warehouse. He looked round, and blinked. Cobb was mulling over a computer page, Eames tinkering with a file. Ariadne was nowhere to be seen.
Arthur took a step forward. Eames looked up. "Oh, Arthur." He raised an eyebrow. "Nice clothes. Not really you...or is that all that fits now?!"
Arthur frowned. "Meaning?"
"Oh, come on, do you think we haven't noticed how much Ariadne likes to feed you?" There was a mocking tone in Eames' voice. "She always offers to cook for you, and brings you brownies, and-"
Arthur blinked. These were projections of his team mates - Ariadne's projections. This is what she thinks we say about her behind her back, he suddenly realised, sweating slightly. He walked over to Eames.
"Now, come on, Eames, Arthur doesn't have to worry." Cobb looked up. "You're just jealous."
"Yep. Jealous that Arthur's dating someone who feeds him so she can get through a door."
Arthur looked astonished. That was not the sort of thing he had ever heard, or would ever expect Eames to say - in fact, the Forger had once commented he thought the Architect was too thin. "You should take care of her," he'd commented to the Point Man. "She looks...fragile."
Arthur swallowed. The dichotomy between what Eames thought, and the toxic words dripping out of the projection's mouth, were unsettling. He took a step forward. "There is nothing wrong with Ariadne, Eames."
"Really? I thought she was looking a bit...chunky."
Arthur bristled. "Oh, you do?"
"Yes. Still, maybe you just like something to grab onto?"
Arthur looked at him, furious at the projection's crudeness. "Eames."
"Its all right, Arthur, you need to tell her you like some flesh. I mean, two skeletons grinding away together- must be uncomfortable-"
Furious, Arthur raised his fist, punching the projection in the face. Stunned, it staggered backwards, tipping over a table in the process. "Shut up," he hissed, taking another swing. "Just-"
"Whoa, Arthur!" Cobb was on his feet, grabbing his arms. "Hey! Eames didn't mean anything by it-"
"Look," Eames spluttered, blood streaming from his nose, "if it really bothers you, go and talk to her!"
"Where is she?" Arthur demanded.
"Downstairs."
Arthur hurried, not caring about the projections spluttering behind him. He headed downstairs, and found Ariadne in the basement.
He blinked, slightly stunned. She was sitting in front of her drafting table, spooning ice cream into her mouth. He looked at her, his lips tightening. She was pale, and he could see that despite her baggy clothes, she was too thin.
"Ariadne?"
She blinked, and looked up, trying to hide the ice cream pot.
"Ari, you don't have to hide food from me, I-"
"But you think I'm fat," she muttered, clutching it. "I heard you, talking to the others."
Arthur shook his head. "Ariadne, this is not real. I promise you. They don't think like that!"
She looked at him, and swallowed.
"I don't believe you."
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