Fic: Who Dreams For The Dreamer
Title: Who Dreams For The Dreamer
Author: Wyndewalker
Xover Fandom: Inception
Series: none
Challenge: twistedshorts August-Fic-A-Day - Day 17, 2013 Trope Bingo Round 2 - Trapped In A Dream
Authors note: None really. Written in about 45 minutes. Stupid family reunion.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Some swearing
Word Count: 1,146 words according to Word
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Inception or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. All rights belong to their owners and I merely borrow the characters for your amusement.
Summary: Cobb and his crew find the tables unexpectedly turned on them.
The moment they opened their eyes in the dream they all knew something wasn't right. The first clue was probably the fact that instead of standing on a street in London the four of them were standing in the middle of a flat grassy plain. They were standing beneath a tall tree with a long bare trunk that didn't spread into branches for close to 40 ft. The grass surrounding the small clearing they were in came to about waist height on most of them; a little higher on Ariadne as the smallest of them.
The second clue was the simple fact they'd all appeared together. That wasn't supposed to happen. Cobb had expected to be in London a few steps behind their mark. Their mark who wasn't anywhere to be found.
"What the fuck?" Arthur was the first one to speak, voicing all their thoughts. "Where the hell are we?"
"Ariadne?" Cobb demanded turning to her but she was just as clueless as the rest of them. She looked back helplessly.
"I don't know. I... This isn't my construct at all. I have no idea where we are."
"I do," Eames answered, frowning fiercely at their surroundings. "We're in Africa. This is a savanna, the Serengeti possibly. I wouldn't do that, darling."
Arthur had moved closer to the edge of the clearing but stopped at Eames words. He frowned at the forger before looking back out at the grass and froze. A short distance away he was certain there were a pair of glowing green eyes staring back at him. He blinked and they were gone. Slowly he backed up to rejoin the group.
"If you want to live you'll come with me."
The new voice had them all spinning around to find a young man in military fatigues holding an M4 Carbine Rifle. It took them a moment to recognize him as a younger version of their mark.
"I don't know how you got in here but it isn't safe. You need to come with me." Without waiting for them to respond he began walking to the Blackhawk Helicopter that had materialized behind him. Taking one more quick glance at where he spotted those eyes, Arthur was the first to follow him with the others quickly falling in behind.
"Who are you?" Cobb asked the moment they were in the air. The young man grinned.
"Protection detail," he responded. "She doesn't like people in her space."
"Who's she?" Cobb tried. The young man just continued to grin.
Moments later the Blackhawk landed. Stepping out, they found themselves in what looked like a school library. Cobb turned to ask where they were only to find the Blackhawk gone and a set of swinging doors behind them.
"Does anyone know what the hell is going on?" Ariadne asked taking a seat at the table in the middle of the room. "I know I don't have as much experience with dream sharing as all of you but this seems really weird. I thought the whole point was that *we* directed the dreams."
"It is," Arthur replied snippily though he too stayed near the table. After seeing those eyes in the grass he really didn't want to know what else their mark might have protecting his mind.
"None of this is supposed to be happening," Cobb said wandering the perimeter of the room. He paused at a caged off area, eyebrow raised when instead of books there were weapons behind the mesh. And not modern weapons either. They were all bladed weapons; swords, daggers and battle-axes with a couple of old-looking crossbows hanging among them. "Anything up there, Eames?"
Eames had moved up the couple of steps to where the actual bookcases were. He'd just started to step into them when yet another new voice stopped him.
"Oh dear, I really don't recommend you do that," a cultured British voice cautioned. Standing behind the return counter, having apparently appeared from the office behind it, was a gentleman in his late 30's, early 40's dressed neatly in slacks and white button down shirt with suspenders and wire-rimmed glasses. "This area is safe but the stacks are patrolled by the Others."
"Others?" Cobb asked even as Eames backed away from the bookcases having seen shadowy movements in their depths. He didn't know what they were, couldn't see anything other than vague shapes but they still gave him the willies.
"Mm, yes, the guardians. Secret keepers, if you will," the man replied absently turning the pages of a book in front of him.
"Who are you? And where are we?" Ariadne asked.
"Of course, where are my manners? We get so few visitors who aren't simply trying to take over the place I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Giles the Librarian and this is Sunnydale Library. Or a facsimile of it. This particular instance of the library was blown up many years ago. The rebuilt one was pulled into the Hellmouth when Sunnydale became a crater."
"Hellmouth?" The four of them echoed. A phone ringing cut Giles off from answering. He picked it up but didn't say anything, simply nodded a couple of times before hanging up again.
"They're ready for you. Right through the doors."
Sharing looks, they cautiously made their way to them. Cobb's hand was on the right door when Giles spoke again. "Do make sure to tell the truth when answering they're questions. They'll know if you're lying and, well, you really won't like the consequences."
Taking a deep breath, Cobb pushed the door open and stepped through. This time they found themselves in the living room of a luxurious hotel suite. Arranged on the couches and chairs before them were four women, two brunettes, a blonde and a redhead, all well-dressed even if one of the brunettes was dressed mostly in leather. There was also an older version of the Librarian seated in an armchair, legs crossed, sipping from a cup of fine china. They were arranged in a U shape around the room. Standing in the open space of the U, was their mark. One Alexander Harris. He was well-dressed as well in a dark gray suit and white shirt open at the collar instead of the khakis and Hawaiian shirt he'd been wearing when they had drugged him into the dream state.
"Welcome to my mind," Xander said. "You four," he gestured at them and they all found themselves seated in comfortable armchairs, "are going to tell us who hired you and just what you thought you were going to get out of my head. Lying would be a very bad idea." The room around them darkened for a brief moment and the whooping cry of a hyena could be heard from a distance. Then it was gone again as if it had never been.
"Let's start with your names, shall we?"
The end