what have i to dread? 3/4 [inception]

[weatheredlaw]

what have i to dread? 3/4
rated r - arthur/ariadne - inception fic
Sometimes there has to be a ledge to fall off of, when taking a leap of faith.



If Ariadne had ever doubted Eames's talent before, she made a mental note now to never do so again. Eames was beyond perfect at his job. He was a master. His patient side was in full bloom as he coached them all on creating a proper forge.

"These are some easy ones I've done in the past. I've picked them for you. Afraid you'll have to do your own voices. Borrow, if you can." He handed Ariadne a glossy photo of a striking red head with full lips and a pale complexion. Arthur raised an eyebrow at his own forge, a rather beefy man sporting a longer hair style. "He's a looker, eh? Might not want Ari here to see you like that. Might scare her off."

"I know how to forge, Eames," Yusuf muttered, sighing.

"Go on then. Show me what you got." Yusuf took his glasses from his jacket pocket and when Ariadne blinked, he was gone. In his place stood a much taller, paler man, with gangly features and a rather pinched expression on his face. He opened his mouth to speak and Yusuf's voice tumbled out, at odds with the older man's appearance.

"See? You taught me years ago."

"Yeah, well, let's see how long you can keep that up. The key," he said to Ariadne and Arthur, "is to know this person inside and out. They're strangers to you, but you have to make them into something in your head. Give her a story. I don't need to know it, but give her a purpose. You'll have a far easier time maintaining your forge if they mean something to you. Connect with them, even if it's all fake."

"You'll have to forgive me for not really being able to make a connection with the hickest forge I've seen in my entire career, Mr. Eames."

"What? Backwoodsman not doing it for you? Not liking the rat tail?"

"You're an ass."

"And you're projecting again, Arthur. Now. Focus. Think for a minute. Who is this person?"

Ariadne looked at the photo of the woman in her hands. She thought about the slight smile on her face, and imagined she was laughing at an only half-way funny joke. As though she were being polite. And then she imagined that the man this woman was smiling at was someone like Arthur. Someone she care deeply for, but could be infinitely complex and confusing, but laid bare all the same, just like everyone else despite what he wanted to believe. Ariadne closed her eyes and put herself next to this woman in her head. She heard Arthur's voice, and she was in Paris and he was telling her a story.

This had happened a few years before, when Ariadne had still been finishing school and she didn't feel that unquenchable thirsting ache she now had when he was near. He was telling her a story. About Cobb. They'd been trying to move past it, and Arthur had a memory, one he'd almost forgotten was there. And he laughed and the noise was wonderful. Ariadne imagined him smiling at this woman and imagined herself being this woman.

"Very good, Ari."

She blinked. Eames was beaming at her. The built, long-haired forge that Eames had given Arthur was watching her curiously. Looking at her hands, she realized they were older and slimmer now, reflecting age and stress and just life.

"You've got it. Really. This is fantastic, love. Even you, Arthur. Hate to say it, but good job."

Ariadne opened her eyes, feeling the familiar, groggy feeling of waking from the dream. She stretched and caught Eames smiling at her. "Good lesson, everyone."

"How hard will it be to maintain a forge in Limbo?"

"Well that's the thing. It's not your dream, is it? So pretty easy I should think. I've done it before. You're not the only one with experience in the field, Arthur. I've busted friends out of Limbo before." Arthur laughed at the word 'friends' but Eames said nothing in response. "How do you feel, Ariadne?"

"Tired. Really tired."

"Your first forge can do that to you. Wipe you out. I think we should head back, get some rest. Think we could drop by the middle of the week?"

"Sooner, maybe. Day after tomorrow, I think." Arthur stood, straightening his vest and running a hand over his cropped hair. "If everyone's comfortable with that." Ariadne swallowed. She wasn't comfortable with anything, but what was done was done. She'd come this far, and the forge made her feel good. Standing, she realized she was more exhausted than she thought, and the idea of just going back to the house and crashing felt good.

Yusuf, of course, made a line for the door the minute they were done. Apparently he'd won a large sum of cash the night before and was eager to do it all again. Eames warned him about gambling in the same place twice, but Yusuf was in a cab and out of sight before much else on the matter could be heard. Arthur very pointedly did not look at anyone on his way out and was in the car by the time Ariadne had gathered her things and went out to meet him.

"You're nervous," he said, the minute she shut the door.

"Great, Arthur. Thanks."

"It's alright. I'm nervous, too."

"No, you're not. You're just trying to make me feel better." He pocketed his phone and watched her for a moment. "What?"

"You're angry with me."

"Yeah, I am, but I don't know, maybe we'll just go to the house and fuck and it'll all be better in the morning? I mean, it was better after last night, right? No talk about feelings or being concerned or anything like that. Just us, enjoying ourselves, passing the time between now and the end of this fucking trip. Right? It's all good."

"You're upset about what I said last night."

"This isn't about last night."

"I think it is."

"It's about everything, Arthur. It's about you making me feel like you wanted me the way I've wanted you, and it's about Cobb and seeing him like that and finding out that you're taking care of his kids and about that fucking woman I have to pretend to be when we're in there and how I just want to kick down the whole fucking room and let it all go and shake him awake and make him see that we need him. So no, you self-serving ass, this is about you. This is about this fucking trip and if I don't get out of this car right now I'm going to scream." Ariadne turned to the driver. "Just...pull over." Without pause he turned onto a side street and Ariadne got out of the car, swallowing deep breaths. Arthur ordered the driver not to move and got out of the car after her.

"What the hell is your problem?"

"Were you not listening? Do you only pay attention to me when I'm bitch about your ungodly alcohol consumption, or do you only hear me when I say something that actually effects you? Fuck this, I'll walk back."

"You don't know where we are."

"I'm not a child, Arthur. I'll find my way back."

"Get in the car. Now."

"Don't talk to me like that. Don't you fucking talk to me like that, do you understand? I am better than this. I am better than a quick fuck with you and a few phone calls and a lesson on when to mind my own fucking business. I am better than all the shit I've done for you. All I wanted, at that airport in LA, was for you to look at me, for just a second. And all I've gotten were stories and you crying in my apartment and trying to pretend it never happened. I came back here because you asked me to. Because I trust you so fucking much that it's sick. I don't know you and I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone my entire life. And that scares me." Arthur didn't move, didn't speak, hardly breathed, as Ariadne spilled her guts to him in that street. He looked away after a moment, because the stillness that eveloped them was thick and angry and he was afraid to touch it.

"Come back to the car. Ariadne?"

"I'll walk."

"I can't let you do that."

"Don't start being considerate on my account, for the love of God, Arthur."

"I will not discuss this with you. I will leave you alone, not speak another word to you if that's what you want, but I won't have you walking through this city angry and upset with me. You can do that in your room at the house where you're safe. Don't be stupid." Ariadne swallowed, nodding and getting back in the car. True to his word, Arthur didn't speak the entire way back, and when they got to the house, he opened the door and followed her silently up the stairs. She strode to her room, shutting the door with an angry snap. Lingering there, she listened for his footsteps, but heard nothing. The floor shifted under his weight and she swore she heard the weight of his arm about to knock on her door. But he paused, and eventually, she heard the quiet click of his own door swinging shut. Pressing her head to the door, she finally breathed, shutting her eyes and trying to imagine herself somewhere else.

In her sleep, Ariadne pretended to be her forge, and it was easier, then, to pretend nothing was wrong.

- - -

The week passed without incident. Ariadne and Arthur spoke, but did not touch. It made her cold. Arthur was less snippy with Eames and it worried the forger.

"I know I said you were signing your own death warrant when you decided to fuck Arthur, but honestly, this whole not having sex thing doesn't seem to be working out. For either of you."

"He's being nice to you, Eames."

"Calm before the storm, love. A kind Arthur is one to be worried about."

Arthur didn't seem different, really. His forge was perfect, his ties were straight. Honestly, he was the same man Ariadne had met that day in Paris, when Cobb had introduced them quickly before handing her the lead and tubing and not really bothering to explain. It had been Arthur who'd gently taken her wrist and showed her how to slide the needle in, warned her about bruising. I'll be here while you sleep. Nothing to worry about as long as I'm here.

Even now, she still believed those words. Even angry, she believed those words.

She wanted to believe them even more, the day they dropped into Cobb's limbo.

Saito insisted they try, but Eames was unsure.

"If we get in there, and we can't hold it, I'm taking everyone out, you understand? We don't go in too deep until I think we're ready. Arthur?"

"I have to, for once, agree with Mr. Eames. If we're not ready, not even in the slightest, we pull out."

"That is fair."

"Good." Arthur fixed his tie and looked at them. "Then we drop."

- - -

It was easier than Ariadne had thought, dropping into Cobb's limbo. The other levels were like distant memories when she opened her eyes. They hadn't known what to expect, but she'd had her suspicions. A more dilapidated version of the last city she'd seen in Cobb's dream had been her best bet - she hadn't thought he'd rebuild it, or give it more thought.

She was certainly very, very wrong.

The city had been rebuilt, and people roamed every inch of the streets. She smelled coffee, a cafe, a restaurant. Men winked at her as they walked past, and it was only when she caught her reflection in the mirror did she remember that she was holding a forge.

She was holding it quite well.

"Right," Eames said, tearing his eyes from the buildings. "He could be anywhere. We start looking. Yusuf? You come with me. You two, head that way. We'll cover more ground. Ask if you can, don't draw attention to yourself."

"With those legs?" Yusuf said, winking at Ariadne before joining Eames. She blushed and followed Arthur.

"I don't like this."

"Neither do I."

"He could be-"

"Anywhere." She nodded, looking up at the window cleaners on the scaffolding above her. "I don't understand. Why? Why would he do this? He's practically drowning in this - it's like he's made a whole new city."

"No. He borrowing, look. That cafe, I know it. It's in Paris, I've been there a thousand times."

"You're right." Arthur paused in front of a bookshop. "This is where I met Cobb, when I was living in Rhode Island..." He faded out, staring at the display of books in the window. After a moment, Ariadne tugged on his sleeve and he met her eyes with a sad smile, following her down the sidewalk. "How can we find him in this? We-" Arthur stopped, grabbing Ariadne's hand tight, tight enough to make her scowl and try to jerk away. "Hush. Look."

Walking toward them, in all her grace and beauty, was Malorie Cobb. She walked with all the grace Ariadne had imagine she would in life, and Arthur couldn't tear his eyes away from her. "You need to stop! Your forge! You'll lose it. Come on." She pulled him into an ally way as Mal walked by, heels clipping tightly on the sidewalk.

"She's just like I remember," Arthur murmured. "Ten years ago. Ariadne, he's remade his life ten years ago, when he married her, that first year. That's when I met them, that's when it was good. Don't you see? He's remade happiness for himself. A moment in time when he was truly happy. The feeling is all over this city - everyone's a reflection of him, everyone's so fucking thrilled to be alive, to be here! Just like he was. This...this is beautiful. This is what a dream should be. Not...garbage and blackness and-"

"Arthur. Listen to yourself. Are you saying we should just leave him behind?"

"I...I don't know. Maybe. I-"

"What about the kids? What about that family? Arthur, you can't pretend he's away on business forever. Saito can't keep him alive forever. Eventually, he's going to die. Arthur, look at me." Arthur looked up, and his forge was gone. Both their forges were gone. Ariadne cursed and pulled them back into a darker part of the side street. "This can't go on forever. You can't leave him here, expecting things to sort themselves out. You either cut this dream short, or he dies, do you understand? Arthur!"

"I...I just want him to be happy. I just want to be happy. And I can be happy if I know he has. I can explain all this away. For the kids, for the professor and his wife, for everyone. I can make this disappear. That's what I do. Ariadne, it's been years since he's been this happy."

"You don't know that he is. Just because your wet dream of Mal comes waltzing down the street doesn't mean he's happy."

"Are you really going to be jealous right now?"

"Yeah. I am. Because my hot forge is gone, thanks."

"You look nicer than she did."

"I...thanks, Arthur. I guess."

"Eames is going to throttle us. Well, he'll throttle me anyway. Not you. He likes you. He wants to kill me."

"What do we do now?"

"We should go. I know how to wake him up."

"Really? Because thirty seconds ago you were talking about leaving him here." Arthur shook his head. "Okay. Lead the way." He nodded now, pulling a gun out of his pocket. Ariadne swallowed thickly. "Arthur..."

"I'm...I'm sorry. About the other night. I shouldn't have said what I said."

"Don't do this. Not here, not like this."

"Close your eyes." She did, watching him fade. Distantly, she heard the safety of the gun go off and felt the cool metal on her temple. She awoke in a reclining chair in Saito's tearoom, gasping for breath and scrambling for purchase on the soft leather of the chair. Arthur awoke quietly not a second later, blinking the dream away. She stared at him as he pulled the lead out of his wrist, rubbing his eyes and looking around the room. Quickly, she pulled her own lead out and pushed herself from the chair. A drink. She needed a drink, or an ice bath or something. Arthur didn't follow her, and for that she was grateful. She slid the doors to the tearoom shut behind her and collapsed into one of the dining room chairs, thankful for the silence.

"You're awake." A smooth voice startled her and Ariadne turned around, ready to pounce.

"Akemi."

"I assume it didn't go as planned."

"There was no plan. Hard to screw that up."

"A good point."

"You, uh, you know? About everything?"

"I know superficial details. Nothing more."

"Right." Akemi handed her a glass of something and Ariadne took it and tossed it back without a second thought. It was vodka, cool and bitter, and it tried to claw its way back up as it burned in her belly, but she held it down. "Thanks," she murmured, feeling her muscles loosed quickly. Akemi raised the bottle. "No, it's fine. I'll be fine. I-" They were interrupted by the distinct bellow of Eames, who, from the sound of it, wasn't pleased they'd managed to drop their forges and leave he and Yusuf behind all in a total of five minutes in the dream.

"You trying to get her killed, Arthur?"

"She's fine. She's in the next room."

"God you're stupid. You're thick, stupid, and selfish and you don't give a damn about anyone but yourself. I'm sure you think you've got some grand plan to wake up Cobb, get him back to normal. I know what happened the last time you pulled a man outta limbo. I heard. I saw the mess you left behind. Don't think I-" Fist met flesh and Ariadne ran to the door in time to see Eames go down hard on the wood floors and Arthur standing still as a statue above him. Yusuf waved his hands for her to go back, but it was too late. Both forger and point man had seen her and were trying to get to her.

"Ari, love, you alright?"

"Eames, I'm fine."

"Next time, you come with me. Won't leave you with-"

"Arthur did fine. Stop treating me like I need a babysitter all the time."

"He's watching out for you. Something I should have done a better job of. He's right, you should go with him or Yusuf next time, it's not-"

"I'll go alone, if it means not having to listen to you two bicker all the time. Get a fucking room already." She turned sharply on her heel and left the two of them at the door. Eames gave a small laugh and turned back into the room.

"She's your gal, mate. You deal with it."

- - -

The driver didn't ask where anyone else was, but Ariadne didn't tell him to move either. She waited in the car, sucking on a lukewarm bottle of water she'd left in the seat before they'd taken off. Arthur tapped on the window and opened to door after some time, telling the driver to take them home.

"You okay?"

"If you ask me that one more time, I will ram this bottle up your ass."

"Fair enough." He cleared his throat. "You did really well in there. I...I needed that."

"Could have done without the gun theatrics in the end, don't you think?"

"I meant that, you know. What I said the other night wasn't true. I...I'm just not good at the whole asking for help thing. Or having people care. It's...it's not how I do things." He cleared his throat again and loosened his tie. "I've been alone for a long time. And you scare me, Ariadne."

"I scare you."

"You scare the hell out of me. And I don't know if it's that energy or the way you touch me or...or the way you make me feel like everything's going be okay, but I believe that when I'm with you. In that dream, I knew that I could wake him up. What you said was right. We don't have a dozen choices. We have two, and that's it. And at the end of the day, we either wake him up, or we pull the plug. And I can't do that. I can't leave him there. I can't kill him." Ariadne reached across the seat as the car stopped and led Arthur into the house. She took the key from his pocket and unlocked the door, tossing it onto the counter and bolting the lock behind them.

"No matter what you choose, Arthur, it is going to be okay."

"I do want you," he whispered as she pulled him into her room. "I do, I want you and I want him to be okay and I want to go home with you. I want to take you back to Paris." He kissed her with everything he had and her stomach turned over at his touch. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This was never supposed to be your life. Cobb...he should have left you alone. He-"

"Don't say that. Not now."

Arthur sighed, sitting on the bed and turning her back toward him, undoing the zipper on her skirt and undressing her almost reverently. His hands ghosted down her spine and followed their trail with his mouth, teeth grazing her skin. Naked, she faced him, pushing him onto the bed and undoing his tie with a flick of her wrist, pulling the buttons undone and stripping his vest and shirt off. He was still half-dressed when she guided him into her, lowering herself onto him and holding her hips there, nails digging into his chest. He was finally naked and above her when she came, legs wrapped around his waist, hips snapping upward into his, fingers gripping the sheets.

And still, he apologized, again and again, until she kissed him into silence and he fell asleep with her arms around him, the sun barely setting and the sounds of the city coming to life in the middle of the night. Ariadne lay awake for a long time, but when she finally slept, she dreamed of coming home to Paris, a hand gripping her own as she unlocked the door to her flat.

Even after she awoke in the morning, she wasn't sure if the hand belonged to Arthur or not, but found as she kissed him until he woke that she didn't really mind. She knew, in the end, it probably would be.