The Ghost Network, 10/13. A/A. NC-17
Title: The Ghost Network
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17.
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Disclaimer: Everyone here belongs to Christopher Nolan and not to me. I like making his toys do naughty, naughty things.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. For the
inception_kink meme prompt: Serial killer or Assassin Arthur, victim or FBI agent Ariadne, and Stockholm Syndrome. It's an AU fic, folks, but I tried to keep them as IC as possible! Also written for the "wild card" box on my
hc_bingo card.
Summary: Someone has been killing people involved in sleep labs. As part of the Sleep Crimes Unit of the FBI, Ariadne has to help track down the Dream Killer. Things go very wrong very fast, and she's exactly in the last place she wants to be.
Prior chapters:
One - Entering The Dream
Two - Building The Maze
Three - Going Under
Four - A Different Point Of View
Five - A Hole In You And Me
Six - Catching The Princess
Seven - Inside The Maelstrom
Eight - Ephemera
Nine - Under The Edge of Abandon
Nathan passed out, and the room became blissfully quiet. He was lying in a pool of his own blood, but he wasn't quite dead yet. Ariadne stood over his limp form, knife clutched almost desperately in her hand. She looked up at Arthur, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She didn't feel like throwing up or running out of the room screaming, didn't feel like slitting her own throat to make herself wake up from the dream.
She wondered what that said about her.
Arthur quietly took the knife from her hand and watched as the blood disappeared from her hands. "Feeling better?"
"A little."
"That one hit home, didn't it?"
Ariadne wanted to look away, but she was drowning in that understanding gaze. Nodding, she released the breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. "It was like it was happening all over again. He did all those things to that girl that happened to me, and it was like it wasn't even him anymore. It was the bastard that had taken me."
Arthur slid a hand up to cup the back of her neck. He pulled her closer, and she wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry, Ariadne."
"Not your fault," she said, the words muffled against his chest.
"I'm still sorry."
She looked up with a watery smile and touched his cheek gently. "I need to take a break. You can continue until the kick, but I need to get out for a bit."
Arthur nodded and kissed her forehead. "Do you want to do it, or do you want me to?"
Taking a deep breath, Ariadne closed her eyes. "You do it."
She didn't see the gun, didn't see the bullet. There was a sharp report as the Glock fired, and then her eyes snapped open in the real world.
Ariadne pushed herself up into a seated position. She carefully unhooked the IV that connected her to the PASIV. It had been three days now, though it felt like three months, at least. There were a dozen different track marks in the subject's arm. She couldn't think of him as Nathan, as a person. She couldn't reconcile what she was doing with what she should be doing. He was evil and vile and disgusting, her stomach turning even at the sight of him. Going through his list of victims and extracting every vile act to make him pay for it was taking its toll on her.
She stood over Arthur's sleeping body. He trusted her enough to let her out of the dream without him, to watch over his sleeping body as he continued to work on Nathan. She could slit his throat as he slept; she was sure he wouldn't feel a thing, and the dream would simply collapse. She could run and find a phone, could call Eames or the SCU and let them know she was in Trenton and a mind crime was in progress. She could simply run and disappear, take the out that Arthur had given her. She could do anything.
What she did do was kiss Arthur's slack lips and make herself a cup of tea.
He found her in the kitchenette area of the warehouse. "You feeling okay?" Ariadne nodded as he sat down across from her. Nathan was still sedated in the larger area of the warehouse, his raspy breathing the only sound for several minutes. "I was almost afraid you wouldn't be here."
"I could have killed you."
"Yeah."
She looked at his impassive expression, knowing that the flat gaze was hiding what he truly felt. "I'm not leaving."
"I'm glad," he murmured, his hands resolutely remaining still in his lap.
"I don't know what I'm doing," Ariadne said abruptly, putting down the mug of tea. "I shouldn't be doing this. It's wrong, but if I stop, he walks free. How is that fair?"
"It isn't," Arthur said carefully, that blank look on his face almost chilling.
"This feeling... Is it real? Does this even make any sense? It hurts, Arthur. I'm going off the deep end, I know it," Ariadne muttered, running a hand through her hair in frustration.
Arthur reached out and pulled on her arm to take her hands in his. "I wish I knew what to say to make it better. I wish I could make it all go away." He rubbed his thumb in slow circles across the back of her hand. "I want to make this easy for you, but I don't know how."
Ariadne turned away, eyes bright and shining with unshed tears. "What am I becoming?"
"What you were meant to be."
She turned back to him and hastily withdrew her hands. "No, I don't believe that."
"I think things happen for a reason," Arthur said slowly. "There has to be a reason for things, why we're put on the path we're on. There has to be a reason why. I refuse to believe that it's just chance. You didn't just fall into the FBI. I didn't just fall into security. This between us didn't just happen. I refuse to believe it was just chance that threw us together like this. This is what was meant to be."
"I'm meant to be a killer?"
"You were meant to dispense justice," Arthur corrected. "You didn't go into the FBI to shoot a gun or file paperwork or whatever they were having you do. You went into it to catch criminals, to bring them to justice."
"This is murder," Ariadne whispered, shaking her head rapidly.
Arthur scooted closer and took her hands in his again. "You know that you couldn't do enough before. Perpetrators got off from the crimes they committed because there was no proof, no physical damage. It was all a dream. Courts don't find that evidence admissible in court. You have to use kidnapping or obstruction or any other constructs that simply don't fit mind crimes, so perpetrators never actually get caught for what they did. They're never actually punished. There's no justice for the victim, no recourse under the legal system." He stroked the back of her head gently and leaned in to touch his forehead to her temple. "I wish there was. I wish we didn't have to do this, but there's no other way. He won't ever be punished otherwise, and the victims won't rest."
"I feel it under my skin," Ariadne nearly sobbed. "Every sick thing he did. It brings it all back, like it's poison."
He pressed his lips against her temple. "It is poison. We just have to drain it out."
"God, I thought I dealt with this. I thought I was done."
Arthur's sigh was a soft exhalation of breath. "Something like this never goes away. You know that. It lingers until you transform it into something else."
She turned so that her lips were hovering close to his. "Like you did."
"Like I did. It's a dull ache now, nothing so sharp or painful. It's there, waiting, but I can use it if I have to. I can ask the right questions."
Ariadne shivered and he kissed her gently. "I can't believe I'm doing this."
"I can. Therapy buries trauma," he said quietly, standing. "I'm telling you to set it free, to look at it and own it." He held out his hand to her. "Ready?"
"No." She took his hand and stood. "But I'll go back in anyway."
Arthur shot her a pleased smile and led her back to the work area.
***
"I've got a hit on the Network," Yusuf told Eames in quiet tones. "I sent a message to Cobb, but I don't think he's forwarding everything to you."
Eames nodded absently before he realized that over the phone, Yusuf wouldn't be able to see it. "No, he's effectively cut me out of the loop. What is it?"
"Talk of a man in Trenton going missing three days ago."
"Fuck."
"Yeah. Not a clue why, but it's a girl saying she's glad he took off, even if he never said where he was going the way he usually does."
"Fuck."
"Eames," Yusuf rebuked him testily, "that's not helping."
"I'm thinking out loud."
"I don't need those kind of thoughts."
"Three days he's been missing. Any word on where in Trenton? It's a big fucking city."
"It's not even necessarily the guy," Yusuf protested.
"You wouldn't call me about this if you didn't think it was," Eames pointed out.
Yusuf's sigh conceded the point. "It could be a fluke."
"It could be his next hit."
"I think Cobb's looking into it."
"Did a team go out, then?"
"I'm in the lab, Eames. I don't know. Fischer's still here."
"Doesn't mean much. Cobb doesn't respect the guy's intelligence."
Yusuf snorted. "I admit, I didn't think much of him in the beginning either. But when he's off the clock, so to speak, he's not so..."
"Shirty?" Eames laughed.
"You know, I have no idea what that even means, but I'll agree with you for the time being," Yusuf laughed. "I was going to say he's not a complete asshat."
"Same thing," Eames laughed. "Yeah, we talked the other day."
"Ah."
"I wonder why it took so long for him to say something, though. It feels like he's avoided the lot of us."
"I think he has. The thing with Ariadne shook him up pretty badly. He even forgot to be a fuckwit for a while."
"Go on, Yusuf. Tell me what you really feel," Eames snarked.
"Shut up. You know what I mean. He lost the role for a while, didn't show up for almost a week."
"Huh."
"Even stopped with the racial comments, which was nice. That had been a particularly fucked up part of this whole thing, in my opinion."
Eames drummed his fingers on his desk. "So Cobb likely sent a team up to Trenton?"
"Cobol and Thompson aren't hooked in today, so yeah. I think they're up in New Jersey now."
"Do they even have anything concrete to work on?"
"The missing guy worked for a legit sleep lab, so they're probably starting there."
Eames smiled slowly. "Tell me he worked another lab on the side, Yusuf. Make my day."
"He worked for the Carduccis, I'm fairly certain. That family has a monopoly for most of the illegal shit down in the area and all the way down to Philly. I was in South Philly before I went to LA, and holy shit, their grip is tight. If the missing guy had done anything on the side, he would've worked for the Carduccis."
"Gimme a name, Yusuf. I'll see what I can do."
"Nathan Bruss. His legit job, from what I was able to Google for you, is for Delta Tech. But if the Dream Killer went out after him, Delta's a dead end. That place is tip top and utterly legitimate. I knew a guy that worked for their Seattle lab and he got his ass fired for toking up once or twice too many."
"For shame," Eames said with a grin.
"Shut up. The guy was brilliant at what he did and really shouldn't have been tossed out on his ass. But the guy found a job in Toronto, so it all worked out."
"You really do know everybody, don't you?"
"I know the regulars on the boards, yes." Eames could hear Yusuf's grin. "Hey, when people are sleeping in front of you all day, you get bored. I'm on the forums and I tinker with shit. Gotta keep the mind active, you know?"
"Hell, yeah," Eames agreed with a laugh. "So I need to talk to the Carduccis, then?"
"Don't know how you'll get an in with them, but yeah."
"Who's the one that leaked the news Nathan was missing?"
"There's a girl on the board that worked in a lab with him. Goes by KissMeKate on the Ghost Network," Yusuf added helpfully.
"Cute. Definitely a chick handle."
Yusuf laughed. "Anyone ever tell you that you're one rude son of a bitch?"
"All the time. Did Cobb's team get anything on her?"
"It's the Ghost Network, Eames. You can't trace a damn thing. That's the point."
"Send her a message, then. A private one," he amended, thinking of Arthur's comment regarding private messages on the boards. He had forgotten about the possibility of that, and had limited his focus to public posts. "Tell her you have a friend that wants to meet up with her about a job she worked on. Give her my cell number."
"You're heading to Trenton?"
"Cobb's team won't think of the Carducci angle."
"They should. I told them about it."
"If you really thought they would, you wouldn't have called me."
Yusuf was silent for a while. "Yeah. I suppose so. He cares," Yusuf added quietly. "Don't think that I think he doesn't. But it's different for him. I don't know if he cares about the rest of us as people, you know? It's like we're all tools to him, just pieces to move around on a chessboard."
"Never underestimate a pawn," Eames murmured, almost to himself. "When it gets across the board, it can become anything."
"That's why I like you, Eames," Yusuf said slowly. "You never act like my opinion doesn't matter, just because I was on the wrong side of legal."
"Of course your opinion matters. You know how the shit comes down. I think Cobb forgot what it's like out in the field."
"Good luck out there. The Carduccis are vicious bastards."
"I love you, too, darling," Eames cooed playfully. Yusuf made a choking sound and Eames merely laughed. "I'll watch my back, Yusuf. Don't you worry. We'll find the bastard, and we'll find Ariadne. She needs to come home."
***
Tick. Tick. Tick... Tick.
There was a slight pause in the sound of his watch's second hand. Nathan cracked an eye open. He wasn't dead yet, but Scarf was standing over him. There was a troubled look in her eye, as there had been for the weeks she had been here doing this.
She had that paring knife in hand again. Fuck. And Khaki was standing behind her, that grim expression on his face again. That never boded well.
"Tell me about Sarah," Scarf said, something dark in her voice. Light glinted off of the blade, and Nathan broke out into a cold sweat.
"What do you want me to say?" Nathan asked, voice cracking.
"Tell me what you did to her. Tell me why."
He let his eyes fall shut. It didn't matter anymore, none of it. "Because I could. Because she was asking for it. Because nobody gave a shit."
Nathan welcomed the slide of the blade across his throat, even if it wasn't deep enough to bleed. He could hear his voice distantly, words tumbling down, lips moving of their own volition. He was emptying himself out, the words pulling out his insides for their inspection. He knew Scarf and Khaki found him wanting, knew that he didn't deserve the air he breathed. He knew this was depraved and wicked. He knew this.
It had been part of the appeal.
Scarf cracked his ribs wide open, exposing the pulsing heart inside his chest, the vulnerable lungs. Her hands slid inside and wrapped around his heart. Nathan's vision grayed out as he saw their faces hover close. "You know what you need, don't you?" Scarf asked, a warble in her voice. Once upon a time he would have pounced on that, he would have dragged her under with somnacin and had his way with her psyche. Now he just felt numb and gray, splayed out in front of her. Now he was vulnerable as she must have been, as broken as every girl he'd ever fucked or violated in dreams.
"Kill me," Nathan said, his voice breaking.
"Maybe this time, I really will," Scarf whispered, pulling his heart out of his chest.
"Oh, thank you," Nathan breathed. "Thank you, thank you."
Tick. Tick. Tick.
***
***
To chapter 11!
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17.
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Disclaimer: Everyone here belongs to Christopher Nolan and not to me. I like making his toys do naughty, naughty things.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. For the
inception_kink meme prompt: Serial killer or Assassin Arthur, victim or FBI agent Ariadne, and Stockholm Syndrome. It's an AU fic, folks, but I tried to keep them as IC as possible! Also written for the "wild card" box on my
hc_bingo card.
Summary: Someone has been killing people involved in sleep labs. As part of the Sleep Crimes Unit of the FBI, Ariadne has to help track down the Dream Killer. Things go very wrong very fast, and she's exactly in the last place she wants to be.
Prior chapters:
One - Entering The Dream
Two - Building The Maze
Three - Going Under
Four - A Different Point Of View
Five - A Hole In You And Me
Six - Catching The Princess
Seven - Inside The Maelstrom
Eight - Ephemera
Nine - Under The Edge of Abandon
Nathan passed out, and the room became blissfully quiet. He was lying in a pool of his own blood, but he wasn't quite dead yet. Ariadne stood over his limp form, knife clutched almost desperately in her hand. She looked up at Arthur, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She didn't feel like throwing up or running out of the room screaming, didn't feel like slitting her own throat to make herself wake up from the dream.
She wondered what that said about her.
Arthur quietly took the knife from her hand and watched as the blood disappeared from her hands. "Feeling better?"
"A little."
"That one hit home, didn't it?"
Ariadne wanted to look away, but she was drowning in that understanding gaze. Nodding, she released the breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. "It was like it was happening all over again. He did all those things to that girl that happened to me, and it was like it wasn't even him anymore. It was the bastard that had taken me."
Arthur slid a hand up to cup the back of her neck. He pulled her closer, and she wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry, Ariadne."
"Not your fault," she said, the words muffled against his chest.
"I'm still sorry."
She looked up with a watery smile and touched his cheek gently. "I need to take a break. You can continue until the kick, but I need to get out for a bit."
Arthur nodded and kissed her forehead. "Do you want to do it, or do you want me to?"
Taking a deep breath, Ariadne closed her eyes. "You do it."
She didn't see the gun, didn't see the bullet. There was a sharp report as the Glock fired, and then her eyes snapped open in the real world.
Ariadne pushed herself up into a seated position. She carefully unhooked the IV that connected her to the PASIV. It had been three days now, though it felt like three months, at least. There were a dozen different track marks in the subject's arm. She couldn't think of him as Nathan, as a person. She couldn't reconcile what she was doing with what she should be doing. He was evil and vile and disgusting, her stomach turning even at the sight of him. Going through his list of victims and extracting every vile act to make him pay for it was taking its toll on her.
She stood over Arthur's sleeping body. He trusted her enough to let her out of the dream without him, to watch over his sleeping body as he continued to work on Nathan. She could slit his throat as he slept; she was sure he wouldn't feel a thing, and the dream would simply collapse. She could run and find a phone, could call Eames or the SCU and let them know she was in Trenton and a mind crime was in progress. She could simply run and disappear, take the out that Arthur had given her. She could do anything.
What she did do was kiss Arthur's slack lips and make herself a cup of tea.
He found her in the kitchenette area of the warehouse. "You feeling okay?" Ariadne nodded as he sat down across from her. Nathan was still sedated in the larger area of the warehouse, his raspy breathing the only sound for several minutes. "I was almost afraid you wouldn't be here."
"I could have killed you."
"Yeah."
She looked at his impassive expression, knowing that the flat gaze was hiding what he truly felt. "I'm not leaving."
"I'm glad," he murmured, his hands resolutely remaining still in his lap.
"I don't know what I'm doing," Ariadne said abruptly, putting down the mug of tea. "I shouldn't be doing this. It's wrong, but if I stop, he walks free. How is that fair?"
"It isn't," Arthur said carefully, that blank look on his face almost chilling.
"This feeling... Is it real? Does this even make any sense? It hurts, Arthur. I'm going off the deep end, I know it," Ariadne muttered, running a hand through her hair in frustration.
Arthur reached out and pulled on her arm to take her hands in his. "I wish I knew what to say to make it better. I wish I could make it all go away." He rubbed his thumb in slow circles across the back of her hand. "I want to make this easy for you, but I don't know how."
Ariadne turned away, eyes bright and shining with unshed tears. "What am I becoming?"
"What you were meant to be."
She turned back to him and hastily withdrew her hands. "No, I don't believe that."
"I think things happen for a reason," Arthur said slowly. "There has to be a reason for things, why we're put on the path we're on. There has to be a reason why. I refuse to believe that it's just chance. You didn't just fall into the FBI. I didn't just fall into security. This between us didn't just happen. I refuse to believe it was just chance that threw us together like this. This is what was meant to be."
"I'm meant to be a killer?"
"You were meant to dispense justice," Arthur corrected. "You didn't go into the FBI to shoot a gun or file paperwork or whatever they were having you do. You went into it to catch criminals, to bring them to justice."
"This is murder," Ariadne whispered, shaking her head rapidly.
Arthur scooted closer and took her hands in his again. "You know that you couldn't do enough before. Perpetrators got off from the crimes they committed because there was no proof, no physical damage. It was all a dream. Courts don't find that evidence admissible in court. You have to use kidnapping or obstruction or any other constructs that simply don't fit mind crimes, so perpetrators never actually get caught for what they did. They're never actually punished. There's no justice for the victim, no recourse under the legal system." He stroked the back of her head gently and leaned in to touch his forehead to her temple. "I wish there was. I wish we didn't have to do this, but there's no other way. He won't ever be punished otherwise, and the victims won't rest."
"I feel it under my skin," Ariadne nearly sobbed. "Every sick thing he did. It brings it all back, like it's poison."
He pressed his lips against her temple. "It is poison. We just have to drain it out."
"God, I thought I dealt with this. I thought I was done."
Arthur's sigh was a soft exhalation of breath. "Something like this never goes away. You know that. It lingers until you transform it into something else."
She turned so that her lips were hovering close to his. "Like you did."
"Like I did. It's a dull ache now, nothing so sharp or painful. It's there, waiting, but I can use it if I have to. I can ask the right questions."
Ariadne shivered and he kissed her gently. "I can't believe I'm doing this."
"I can. Therapy buries trauma," he said quietly, standing. "I'm telling you to set it free, to look at it and own it." He held out his hand to her. "Ready?"
"No." She took his hand and stood. "But I'll go back in anyway."
Arthur shot her a pleased smile and led her back to the work area.
***
"I've got a hit on the Network," Yusuf told Eames in quiet tones. "I sent a message to Cobb, but I don't think he's forwarding everything to you."
Eames nodded absently before he realized that over the phone, Yusuf wouldn't be able to see it. "No, he's effectively cut me out of the loop. What is it?"
"Talk of a man in Trenton going missing three days ago."
"Fuck."
"Yeah. Not a clue why, but it's a girl saying she's glad he took off, even if he never said where he was going the way he usually does."
"Fuck."
"Eames," Yusuf rebuked him testily, "that's not helping."
"I'm thinking out loud."
"I don't need those kind of thoughts."
"Three days he's been missing. Any word on where in Trenton? It's a big fucking city."
"It's not even necessarily the guy," Yusuf protested.
"You wouldn't call me about this if you didn't think it was," Eames pointed out.
Yusuf's sigh conceded the point. "It could be a fluke."
"It could be his next hit."
"I think Cobb's looking into it."
"Did a team go out, then?"
"I'm in the lab, Eames. I don't know. Fischer's still here."
"Doesn't mean much. Cobb doesn't respect the guy's intelligence."
Yusuf snorted. "I admit, I didn't think much of him in the beginning either. But when he's off the clock, so to speak, he's not so..."
"Shirty?" Eames laughed.
"You know, I have no idea what that even means, but I'll agree with you for the time being," Yusuf laughed. "I was going to say he's not a complete asshat."
"Same thing," Eames laughed. "Yeah, we talked the other day."
"Ah."
"I wonder why it took so long for him to say something, though. It feels like he's avoided the lot of us."
"I think he has. The thing with Ariadne shook him up pretty badly. He even forgot to be a fuckwit for a while."
"Go on, Yusuf. Tell me what you really feel," Eames snarked.
"Shut up. You know what I mean. He lost the role for a while, didn't show up for almost a week."
"Huh."
"Even stopped with the racial comments, which was nice. That had been a particularly fucked up part of this whole thing, in my opinion."
Eames drummed his fingers on his desk. "So Cobb likely sent a team up to Trenton?"
"Cobol and Thompson aren't hooked in today, so yeah. I think they're up in New Jersey now."
"Do they even have anything concrete to work on?"
"The missing guy worked for a legit sleep lab, so they're probably starting there."
Eames smiled slowly. "Tell me he worked another lab on the side, Yusuf. Make my day."
"He worked for the Carduccis, I'm fairly certain. That family has a monopoly for most of the illegal shit down in the area and all the way down to Philly. I was in South Philly before I went to LA, and holy shit, their grip is tight. If the missing guy had done anything on the side, he would've worked for the Carduccis."
"Gimme a name, Yusuf. I'll see what I can do."
"Nathan Bruss. His legit job, from what I was able to Google for you, is for Delta Tech. But if the Dream Killer went out after him, Delta's a dead end. That place is tip top and utterly legitimate. I knew a guy that worked for their Seattle lab and he got his ass fired for toking up once or twice too many."
"For shame," Eames said with a grin.
"Shut up. The guy was brilliant at what he did and really shouldn't have been tossed out on his ass. But the guy found a job in Toronto, so it all worked out."
"You really do know everybody, don't you?"
"I know the regulars on the boards, yes." Eames could hear Yusuf's grin. "Hey, when people are sleeping in front of you all day, you get bored. I'm on the forums and I tinker with shit. Gotta keep the mind active, you know?"
"Hell, yeah," Eames agreed with a laugh. "So I need to talk to the Carduccis, then?"
"Don't know how you'll get an in with them, but yeah."
"Who's the one that leaked the news Nathan was missing?"
"There's a girl on the board that worked in a lab with him. Goes by KissMeKate on the Ghost Network," Yusuf added helpfully.
"Cute. Definitely a chick handle."
Yusuf laughed. "Anyone ever tell you that you're one rude son of a bitch?"
"All the time. Did Cobb's team get anything on her?"
"It's the Ghost Network, Eames. You can't trace a damn thing. That's the point."
"Send her a message, then. A private one," he amended, thinking of Arthur's comment regarding private messages on the boards. He had forgotten about the possibility of that, and had limited his focus to public posts. "Tell her you have a friend that wants to meet up with her about a job she worked on. Give her my cell number."
"You're heading to Trenton?"
"Cobb's team won't think of the Carducci angle."
"They should. I told them about it."
"If you really thought they would, you wouldn't have called me."
Yusuf was silent for a while. "Yeah. I suppose so. He cares," Yusuf added quietly. "Don't think that I think he doesn't. But it's different for him. I don't know if he cares about the rest of us as people, you know? It's like we're all tools to him, just pieces to move around on a chessboard."
"Never underestimate a pawn," Eames murmured, almost to himself. "When it gets across the board, it can become anything."
"That's why I like you, Eames," Yusuf said slowly. "You never act like my opinion doesn't matter, just because I was on the wrong side of legal."
"Of course your opinion matters. You know how the shit comes down. I think Cobb forgot what it's like out in the field."
"Good luck out there. The Carduccis are vicious bastards."
"I love you, too, darling," Eames cooed playfully. Yusuf made a choking sound and Eames merely laughed. "I'll watch my back, Yusuf. Don't you worry. We'll find the bastard, and we'll find Ariadne. She needs to come home."
***
Tick. Tick. Tick... Tick.
There was a slight pause in the sound of his watch's second hand. Nathan cracked an eye open. He wasn't dead yet, but Scarf was standing over him. There was a troubled look in her eye, as there had been for the weeks she had been here doing this.
She had that paring knife in hand again. Fuck. And Khaki was standing behind her, that grim expression on his face again. That never boded well.
"Tell me about Sarah," Scarf said, something dark in her voice. Light glinted off of the blade, and Nathan broke out into a cold sweat.
"What do you want me to say?" Nathan asked, voice cracking.
"Tell me what you did to her. Tell me why."
He let his eyes fall shut. It didn't matter anymore, none of it. "Because I could. Because she was asking for it. Because nobody gave a shit."
Nathan welcomed the slide of the blade across his throat, even if it wasn't deep enough to bleed. He could hear his voice distantly, words tumbling down, lips moving of their own volition. He was emptying himself out, the words pulling out his insides for their inspection. He knew Scarf and Khaki found him wanting, knew that he didn't deserve the air he breathed. He knew this was depraved and wicked. He knew this.
It had been part of the appeal.
Scarf cracked his ribs wide open, exposing the pulsing heart inside his chest, the vulnerable lungs. Her hands slid inside and wrapped around his heart. Nathan's vision grayed out as he saw their faces hover close. "You know what you need, don't you?" Scarf asked, a warble in her voice. Once upon a time he would have pounced on that, he would have dragged her under with somnacin and had his way with her psyche. Now he just felt numb and gray, splayed out in front of her. Now he was vulnerable as she must have been, as broken as every girl he'd ever fucked or violated in dreams.
"Kill me," Nathan said, his voice breaking.
"Maybe this time, I really will," Scarf whispered, pulling his heart out of his chest.
"Oh, thank you," Nathan breathed. "Thank you, thank you."
Tick. Tick. Tick.
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To chapter 11!