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croikThis chapter was written almost entirely under the influence of some hefty painkillers, sooooooo... consider this a warning, lol.
Fandom: Inception
Title: The Helix Trap
Chapter: 15/19 (8,260 words) (For other parts, art and graphics, please check my My main post)
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Eames/Robert, Arthur/Ariadne, Cobb, Yusuf, Saito, Browning, and others.
Warnings: Violence, sexual content.
Disclaimer: These characters and setting do not belong to me and are being used without permission but for no profit
Summary: After the Inception proves successful, Eames tracks down Robert out of concern for its unusual side effects. Meanwhile, Arthur is hired to a dangerous job that forces the rest of the team to take sides: whether to defend Robert and his fragile mind, or ruin him completely.
Notes: C&C Welcome and appreciated. Thanks to my betas![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chypie and tanithkitty for their input!
Eames awoke to cold. When he turned his face up snowflakes landed on his closed eyelids, and rather than melt they tumbled down his cheeks and jaw, tickling his whiskers. They fell from the sky so slowly and in such numbers he couldn't help but draw them into his nostrils with every breath, like a pixelated mist. In other circumstances he might have been charmed, but the air was heavy and oppressive and made his stomach feel hollow.
He brushed the snow off his head and shoulders and opened his eyes. They had awoken to a rooftop along the northern edge of the city, overlooking what was by now a nearly alien landscape. The buildings and streets were still curved, but they held none of the earthly precision Eames remembered from his last visit, to him only minutes before. Jagged skyscrapers formed an irregular skyline, slanted and some even spiraled, their eaves slick with ice. Atop every building, from squatting shops to towering apartments, mighty windmills made from iron rails and broken glass churned on in creaking solemnity.
"I was underground before I woke up," Cobb said next to him, his voice weak with disbelief. "Did it look like this before?"
Eames turned in a slow circle. Behind them a huge blade made of shop awnings stretched over construction beams rose over the roof line in steady rotation. "No. This is all new." He turned back to Cobb. "Are we seeing the same thing? Nash's dream should have collapsed by now but if Ariadne is still under..."
"If you're looking at snow and pinwheels, it's the same. And it feels stable." Cobb shook his head. "Did you teach him to do this?"
"I'm flattered you think I could." He glanced away and noticed Browning at the edge of the roof, staring at the bizarre landscape in wide-eyed shock. Thinking they had a moment of semi-privacy, he said to Cobb, "Now tell me everything you know."
Cobb shook his head again. "Not much. Because of the two PASIVs there are apparently two Arthurs and two Roberts. From the sound of it they're supposed to remain on equal levels, or...I'm not sure. Something bad happens."
"How bad?"
"I don't know--something painful, that much I know." Cobb rubbed the back of his skull. "Damn it, Arthur. If he wasn't in so much trouble already I'd kill him."
"What else?" Eames prompted impatiently.
"Okay, okay--Arthur is split across levels somehow." He held up his hands at different heights to signify. "Banks has one of him in Level Two and is trying to extract something from him. He wouldn't tell me what, but..." A familiar sharpness gleamed in Cobb's eyes. "It has something to do with me, and I need to find out what it is."
"What the hell is going on?" Browning said as he rejoined them. He jabbed a finger in the direction of the ragged city. "What the hell kind of dream is this?"
Eames rubbed his mouth as he came to the unsettling truth. "This is all Robert's doing," he explained. "His subconscious must have stepped in to rebuild Nash's dream after he woke up, but he's not stable. He's..."
He trailed off as he suddenly recognized the uneasy feeling in his gut. "This is bad." He looked to Cobb. "Can you feel that?"
Cobb straightened, his eyes losing focus as he tried to understand Eames's meaning. When it came to him, he paled. "We're sinking," he said.
"What?" Browning frowned at them in confusion. "What does that mean?"
"It means that Fischer is retreating into his own subconscious," Cobb explained as Eames moved away. "He can't handle what's happening here and the only way his mind knows to deal with it is to go deeper. He must be processing at an extraordinary rate, but his brain can't do that for long before..."
Browning caught on with a shudder. "You're talking about Limbo?"
Eames pressed his hands to the stone rail circling the roof. He stared out over the maze of twirling buildings, and below them the stream of familiar black-clad ghosts, trying to understand how everything had gone so wrong so quickly. Panic simmered behind his ribs and pushed an ancient, cowardly voice to his surface: Just wake up. He's not worth this much risk.
"You know about Limbo?"
"I only know what I've heard from Charla," Browning said. "She sometimes works with coma patients at her clinic. But this...I don't understand why Charla would do this. I thought that she and I had..."
Eames glanced back just in time to see the color drain from Browning's face. The concern on display was real, and it made Eames rethink much of the research he had done in Sydney. "Do you know something?" he asked.
Browning covered his mouth as if about to be ill. "My God." His gaze danced between the two of them. "She really is trying to kill him, isn't she?"
The ground rocked beneath them. Eames clutched at the stone rail as thunder rolled up and down the city, and all over buildings trembled on their foundations. The severest of the shock lasted only a moment, and then calmed to a dull, grinding vibration. As Eames scanned the horizon, searching for a cause, he finally noticed the office building where he had first met Robert's projections. It was taller than he remembered, and was the only structure left not topped with some manner of pinwheel. Instead, the roof made up the base of a blocky, metallic structure that he recognized well, with fortified towers and thick, slanted windows.
My fortress. Eames took in a long, shaky breath. He must be in there. As he stared he noticed a window creeping along the wall of the south tower. No, it's not moving--we are. He looked over the city again with fresh eyes. We're spinning.
Eames laughed incredulously. "It's a pinwheel," he said, waving Cobb and Browning over. "Look--look what he's done. The entire city is turning."
The three men stared in astonishment. Cobb shook his head, and Eames saw in him the same gleam of awe that he was feeling. I haven't built dreams like this for years, Eames thought, fear and excitement burning in his chest. Watching the city turn beneath the lazily drifting snow reminded him of days long past, when dreams were meant to be relished instead of exploited. It was beautiful and bittersweet.
But it's killing him. Eames shook himself, and faced Browning. "Mr. Browning, if you know anything more about this, you have to tell us," he said.
"No." Browning shrugged out of his suit coat, and Eames and Cobb both leaned back in surprise to see he was already wearing a handgun holster. He freed the weapon and checked to make sure it was loaded. "Nothing I know is going to help Robert now. We have to wake him up."
Eames grabbed his elbow. "Then you do know something."
"If Robert is slipping into some kind of dream coma we don't have time to bullshit about this," Browning said, shaking him off. "If you're really here to help him you should know that." He shoved the gun back in its holster.
"He's right--we don't have time to argue," said Cobb. "What we need to do is get everyone in one place, here in the first level. It's the only way to be sure everyone's ready for a simultaneous disengaging of the PASIVs. Yusuf said that Banks should be in the northwest, and Arthur will be there, too. That's where I'm going."
Eames took in a deep breath. "At least one Robert must be here, in this level, for the amount of building that's going on. Do you think he's been...split?"
"If one of him is still under, it must be the one with Banks."
"Then the other must be in the fortress." Eames looked to it, and though his first instinct was to head there immediately, he consulted his reason. If Banks is in Level Two that means only Arthur and Ariadne are left, and they'll be after Banks. No one will be after him up there. "I'll come with you to Point Two," he concluded. "If that's where Arthur is, I want to have a word with him myself."
Browning frowned at them with distrust, but after some consideration of his own he said, "I'm going after Robert in that tower. He'll need to know we're here to wake him up."
"It's very important that you wait for us to get there," Cobb said quickly. "We have to do this fast, but by the book."
"I know, all right? Better than you do." He turned toward the other end of the roof.
"Stay away from his projections," Eames called after him. He well remembered the strange greetings Robert's projections had given him in Munich, when he was wearing Browning's face. "We'll meet you there." Browning only grunted in response.
Cobb and Eames turned the other way. "Even if he doesn't make it, at least he sees now what's going on," Cobb said as they climbed onto the ledge.
"I'm going down to the street," said Eames. "The projections won't hurt me and I'll be able to get there faster than jumping rooftops." He leapt down to the fire escape.
"What do you mean, his projections--"
"Just trust me, all right?" Eames continued to climb down. "Be careful and I'll meet you there."
As soon as Eames dropped into the alley he was surrounded on all sides by curious wraiths. They touched his shoulders and arms and immediately began to tug him into the street. "Eames is back," they murmured, and he realized quickly that they were turning him toward the tower. "Eames is here."
"Eames is late," one said nearby. It was wearing a white military cap over its mask. "Eames said he would only be an hour."
Eames winced, and pulled against them to instead head northwest. "I need to find Point Two," he told the wraiths when they tried to urge him back. "Where are the other extractors? Do you know?"
A hundred black eyes watched him. One by one the ghosts turned and pointed, their white, knobby fingers indicating a distant rooftop. Squinting against the pouring snow, Eames saw a fire escape pull away from its building with a groan, forming a catwalk across which a motorcycle passed.
There they are. Eames clenched his jaw and started after them, the waves of ghosts parting out of his way.
***
"It's getting harder to build," Ariadne said as she halted the motorcycle on the opposite roof. "I can feel him fighting me over every change."
Arthur's hands flexed against her waist. "It's amazing what he's become capable of in so short a time, but it's not a good sign." He climbed off the back of the motorcycle and pulled a shotgun out of its holster. "Let's leave the bike for now. We're not far from the store."
Ariadne turned off the engine and stowed the keys in her pocket. "It should still be secure," she said as they made their way into the building and down the stairs toward the lobby. "We can shoot our way through those things to get inside and I'll seal the doors behind us." She saw Arthur trail his hand along the wall as they rounded a corner in the stairwell. "How're you holding up?"
"I'm fine," he replied precisely. "Just let me know if you find yourself unable to build anymore."
They snuck out a side door and into the alley, right into another horde of projections. Arthur's shotgun cut a ragged path through them while Ariadne picked off any that attempted to close in from behind. She had learned early on that shooting the masks was the most effective method of felling them, and they scattered into billowing fabric with every shot. As they crossed the street toward the entrance to the grocery she stayed close to Arthur's back, and while covering him noticed a human face among the crowd heading toward them.
Eames. Ariadne leveled her gun with one hand and pulled at Arthur's vest with the other. "It's Eames--"
Arthur whipped around. As soon as Ariadne felt him move she did the same, and charged through the remaining wraiths into the grocery store. There were a few projections already inside and by the time she had taken care of them Arthur was next to her again, shoving her behind the row of cash registers as bullets ricocheted overhead.
"Seal it off," Arthur hissed. "Hurry."
Ariadne closed her eyes, concentrating, but when she turned all the storefront windows from glass to steel she felt one resist a moment longer than the rest. It crashed inward, and as wraiths tried to pour in she had to resort to drawing a partition of metal out of the floor to block the opening. Another round of bullets pounded the registers, and she and Arthur huddled close together, reloading.
"Eames, stop!" Arthur shouted once the volley subsided. "You're going to collapse the dream!"
"I'm not here to kill Ariadne," Eames replied. His footsteps drew closer. "Just you."
Arthur swung the muzzle of his shotgun over the counter and fired blindly. "Keep going," he told Ariadne. "I'll handle Eames."
She shook her head. "But if he kills you--"
Eames opened fire again, and Arthur grabbed Ariadne's arm, pulling her down the line of registers. "Either way you've got to wake the other me up. Just go--I'll cover you."
Ariadne bit her lip, but when Eames paused again she dashed out from under cover. Every shot fired made her heart pound even knowing they weren't for her. Just hurry, she told herself as she made a run for the staff door at the back of the building. As soon as both of him are here we can just wake up and end this job once and for all.
She shoved her way through the staff area, and just as she reached the door to the break room became aware of something pounding in the air duct over her head. More projections? Are they coming in through the roof? When she tried to imagine the top of the building all she could picture was spinning pinwheels, and she abandoned the effort. Just hurry, hurry!
The break room opened into a steep tunnel heading below the store. Ariadne rushed down the corridor, ignoring the spinning decorations, and onto the subway platform. She immediately knew that something was wrong. The chamber reeked of blood and gasoline, and there was a room nestled into the wall she was sure neither she nor Nash was responsible for: an immense black safe, its doors flung open, its innards dark and empty.
Ariadne peered inside the safe and felt a chill. This is the safe I designed, she knew immediately. Fright propelled her away from it. For the Inception. What's it doing here?
Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Ariadne spun, her gun leveled, but had just enough presence of mind not to shoot the moment she saw who it was. "Cobb?"
Cobb held up his hands, a gun in one of them. "Don't shoot."
Ariadne shifted her weight anxiously. "How'd you get in here?"
"Through the roof," he said. He moved toward her, his hands still raised. "I'm not here to wake you up--I'm still on your side, all right?"
She hesitated a moment longer, but the thought of Arthur upstairs under a hail of gunfire weakened her, and she lowered the gun. "We have to stop Eames," she said urgently. "If he kills Arthur now it's going to drive him crazy! Shit, Arthur."
Ariadne holstered her gun and hurried to the subway car. The door was already open, and there was no sign of Nash. She looked over the car's occupants and blinked. "Where's Fischer?" Only Charla and Arthur remained attached to the PASIV.
Cobb joined her. "Yusuf is awake," he said. "We figured that Fischer must have been pushed to Level One, but it looks like this one found a way up, too." He climbed inside and sat down on the cot that had been Robert's.
Ariadne stared. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going under." Cobb unbuttoned his cuff and shoved his sleeve up. "To find out what Banks is extracting from Arthur."
"What?" Ariadne surged forward and grabbed the IV before he could insert it. "No, we have to wake him up."
She reached for Arthur's arm, but Cobb snatched her wrist before she could get far. "If Arthur leaves her dream, she'll wake herself up and go straight to Browning," he reasoned. "He already suspects us for the Inception and I am not going to prison." He let her go and held out his hand expectantly. "I'm sure you don't want to end up there, either."
If she's already after Arthur, she'll be after you, too, Ariadne thought. Her stomach twisted nauseously. "But we don't have time for this," she said. "I'm losing control of this dream, and Arthur's already exhausted. If Eames kills him--"
"The only way to settle this is to let Banks get what she wants," Cobb interrupted. His eyes hardened. "Or I deal with her myself. Either way I know this all has something to do with me. Doesn't it?"
Ariadne faltered beneath his unfaltering glare. He was asking her for what she knew and the last thing she wanted was to tell him, knowing what his reaction would be. Her hand shook as she handed over the needle. "Whatever you do, please hurry. I don't know how much more of this Arthur can take, and I will wake him up if I have to."
Cobb stared at her a moment longer, trying to draw the truth out, but when he failed he shook his head. "I'll be quick," he promised as he stretched out on the cot. He slid the needle into his arm and was quickly asleep.
Ariadne hopped onto the platform and moved to the nearest pillar. With the control panel exposed she did a few desperate calculations and was at last able to interrupt the car's program, keeping it halted at its current location. At this rate we'll never make it to Point Three anyway. No place in the city will be safer than this now. She took in a deep breath. Now to go help Arthur.
She started toward the exit corridor, but as she passed by the open safe she felt another chill, and heard a snap of glass breaking. Goose bumps rippled up her arms and she turned, watching in shock as long, elegant fingers curled around the safe's door. A familiar brunette leaned out of the darkness, her eyes round and hypnotizing.
"What are you doing here?"
***
Eames sprinted down the narrow aisle, condiment bottles bursting in his wake beneath Arthur's gunfire. As he rounded the corner he fired blindly behind him, disrupting the pursuit long enough that he could dive for cover behind the squat meat coolers. "I know you're not a dreamer this time," he called, and fired again to drive Arthur behind a far aisle. "Which means it won't make any difference if I wake you up."
"I could say the same to you." Eames could hear the metallic clinks of Arthur reloading. "This isn't any of your business, Eames. Haven't you felt by now that we're sinking? Isn't that usually your cue to turn tail?"
"So you can tell." Eames slapped a new magazine into his own weapon. "You know what you're doing to him, don't you?" He shook his head. "You and I, we've done some fucked up things to people over the years. But I think you have me beat now."
"We both know that's bullshit," Arthur said, "coming from Sullivan's ex."
Eames scowled and rose over the back of the cooler. His gun was poised but before he could get a good enough gauge on where Arthur was bullets rang out, and pain exploded across his right ear. He was thrown onto his back, blood spewing from the wound in his scalp.
"Shit." Eames dropped his gun reflexively so he could cover the torn flesh. "You shot my goddamn ear off!"
Arthur leapt onto the cooler and leveled his handgun. "Just stay the hell out of this."
Eames lunged, catching Arthur around the knees and sending him crashing to the linoleum floor. He clamored over the cooler and pounced; his heel slammed Arthur's wrist into the ground and sent his handgun clattering away. Arthur cried out but was far from ready to give up--he twisted, displaying impressive flexibility as he wrapped both legs around Eames's thigh and jerked him off balance.
Eames landed on the hard edge of the meat cooler. It dug into his ribs and stole his breath, and then Arthur was on him, choking him. Instinctually his countenance changed into a frail and gasping Ariadne. "Arthur, please!" he sobbed.
"You really think I'd fall for that?" Arthur said. He shoved his knee into Eames's chest.
"Worth a try." Eames's face twisted as he changed again; extra pounds of muscle swelled on his torso, biceps, and thighs, and his neck broadened until it was too think for Arthur to get his hands around. He swung his first like a sledgehammer into Arthur's jaw, and grinned bitterly as he was thrown to the ground.
Arthur groaned and grabbed for the nearby shelves. "Eames." He pulled himself upright as Eames pursued. "Wait, we're--"
Eames punched him again, into a promotional display. "Didn't I warn you to stay away?" he growled as he grabbed Arthur by the back of the neck. "You and your new girlfriend. I'll take care of you both!"
He flung Arthur across the aisle, and just when Arthur managed to get his feet beneath him he attacked again, shoving him face first into the canned meats. Arthur flailed, ineffectually at first, but when Eames tried to get his arm around his throat he grabbed a can off the shelf and slammed its curved edge into Eames's bloody ear.
Eames reeled, bellowing in anger as much as pain as Arthur wriggled out of his grip and made a run for it. Hissing, he followed. They raced to the front of the store, and before Eames could grab him again Arthur dove behind the registers. He spun to his feet a moment later and shoved his shotgun into Eames's throat.
Eames halted, his Forgery falling away as he glared at Arthur across the barrel. "Go ahead," he taunted.
Arthur's finger curled around the trigger. "You'll just come right back, won't you?"
"Nothing you can do about that. I'll keep coming back until this is over."
Both men were drawn by a low growl rippling down the aisles. They turned, and Eames couldn't help but smirk at the bulky white tiger prowling toward them. "Ah. Lovely timing."
Arthur's eyes widened, and was distracted enough by the approaching beast that Eames was able to shove the shotgun aside. They grappled for it, and a shot exploded the far register. Arthur almost managed to get it under control again, but then the tiger was nearly on them, growling through bared fangs. Arthur relinquished the weapon and retreated.
"Eames, is that yours?" he demanded as he backed down the line of sealed shop windows.
"Of course." Eames dreamed up a holster for his newly acquired shotgun and stepped out of the tiger's way--it was focused entirely on Arthur. "This is Mitchell, my 'head of security.'"
Arthur looked left and right, reaching for a gun in his belt that wasn't there. "What the hell are you doing? Suppress it."
"So sorry, Darling," said Eames. "I would if I could, but I'm under a lot of stress at the moment." His voice lowered. "And my subconscious is extremely unhappy with you."
"Eames--"
The tiger roared, and with a twitch of its tail it pounced. Arthur scrambled over the counters and into the aisles. "Eames!" He leapt, propelling off the lower shelves of one aisle to boost himself on top of the opposite. "Eames, I'm going to pay you back for this!" he shouted as the tiger chased him down the building.
"We'll see." Eames spared only a moment for amusement, and then he hurried to the back door that Ariadne had disappeared through earlier.
***
Ariadne backed away with halting steps. Even remembering Arthur's warning the sight of Mal stepping gracefully out of the safe was a shock, and she found herself unable to take a full breath. Mal was wearing an elegant black nightgown and her hair was delicately curled, just as she remembered from Cobb's most intimate memories.
"You're not supposed to be here," Ariadne whispered, retreating beneath Mal's heavy stare. "Fischer...he doesn't even know you."
Mal cocked her head to the side. "What makes you think I'm Fischer's?" she asked, slowly pursuing on bare feet.
Ariadne swallowed hard. "Are you...are you Cobb's?" She glanced behind her, but Cobb was deeply asleep, and she had no idea if it was possible for him to project up a level. Her stomach twisted. "Or are you Arthur's?"
"What do you know about Arthur?" Mal's lips curled in a coy smile. "Do you think because he kissed you, that makes you lovers?"
"What?" Ariadne jumped when something struck her shoulders--she had backed into the subway car. "No, I..." She took in a deep breath and tried to face Mal down with courage. "You're just a projection. I don't have to answer to you."
"Such a foolish little girl," Mal said, continuing toward her. "Desperate to believe in the fairy tale. Are you trying to prove me wrong?"
Ariadne pressed her trembling hands to the polished metal behind her. "I don’t know what you're talking about," she said. "You're not--"
Mal stopped in front of her and laughed. "You're shaking," she noted. "Are you afraid of me?"
She shook her head. "No. No, you're not even real."
"Aren't I?" Mal leaned forward, placing one hand and then the other deliberately on the wall of the car, on either side of Ariadne's face. "How can I not be real when what I have to tell you is the truth?"
Is she really Arthur's projection? Ariadne's heart pounded and she tried to lean back, even though there was nowhere to go. Can he not suppress them anymore? She was afraid of the answer but she asked anyway, "What truth?"
Mal's smile widened cruelly. "You're not really in love with Arthur," she declared. "In fact, he frightens you. But you just can't help yourself, can you?" She pressed her index finger into Ariadne's cheek and dragged it down to her chin. "Just like with my Dom."
Ariadne cringed away. "What are you talking about? I didn't--Cobb and I--"
"He needed you," Mal continued. "He called out to you, and oh, how happy you were to answer." She let her hands fall but she didn't step back, still crowding Ariadne's space and making her wish she could shrink away. "Then, and now, all a man need do is need you. Want you. Is that all love is to you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ariadne said again. She slid down the subway car, away from her. "I never said I was in love with Arthur, I just--"
Mal grabbed her by the throat and pulled her back. Ariadne gasped, but then sharp nails dug into her neck, and she didn't fight other than to grab for Mal's wrist.
"A wretched little girl like you will never have the love of great men," Mal hissed, winding her free hand in Ariadne's hair. "The best you can hope for is to be useful for a short while, and pretend that's enough. Pretend that you care for them. But you will never know love." Her lips pulled back in a sneer. "You'll never love any--"
A bullet exploded out Mal's temple, and Ariadne screamed, throwing herself against the car as the body slumped away from her. For a moment Mal's fingers remained tangled in Ariadne's hair, and she shuddered in disgust as she struggled to dislodge them. When she was at last free she jerked her handgun out and whirled in search of their attacker.
Eames grabbed her wrist, shoving her hand into the subway hard enough that she let go of her weapon involuntarily. She yelped, and a moment later found herself again with her back to the wall. She grimaced up at him. "Eames..."
Eames leaned to the side enough that he could see into the subway, and swiftly returned. "Where's Robert?" he asked sternly.
"I don't know," Ariadne said. Breath was still hard to come by but she stared him down as best she could. "Where's Arthur? What did you do--"
He shoved the muzzle of his gun under her chin. "Where is Robert?" he asked again.
"I don't know!" She squirmed. "He must have woken up, but I don't know where he is--he was gone when I got here!"
Eames lowered his gun with a muttered curse. "Then they must both be in the fortress after all." He looked up and down the platform, and his gaze paused on Mal. "One of your projections?"
Ariadne winced and glanced down. Though she hated to admit it, there was a tremor in her gut that spoke the truth. "Yes," she said weakly. "I...I think so. It's Mal."
Eames frowned. He crouched down and rolled the body over so he could get a look at the projection's face. Her temple was a shredded mess but her eyes were wide and unmistakable, and a sudden revelation thrummed into his chest. "Mal," he repeated as the gears of his mind churned. He looked up to Ariadne, who was still shaking slightly against the subway car. "Is this the first time you've seen her in here?"
Ariadne pushed her hair out of her face, gradually regaining her composure. "Yes, but Arthur said he saw her in Level Two. Where is Arthur?"
Eames ignored her question. He stood, still staring at Mal's pale, dead face. It clicked. "Damn it. How did I not recognize her before?"
"What?"
He turned on Ariadne with his gun raised again. "Did Mal help Arthur train Robert?" he asked.
"Arthur didn't train Fischer," Ariadne started. "He--"
"I saw the payoff myself, so don't try to--"
"He extracted from Fischer!" Ariadne finished. When Eames leaned back she shoved the gun away from her and continued. "Arthur told us that Fischer Sr. hired him to extract something from his son, but he didn't find anything worth getting. He did not train Fischer."
"An extraction?" Eames stared down at Mal again, deep in thought. "Was Mal part of his team on that job?"
"I don't know, but...I think so."
Eames continued to watch the unmoving corpse. He remembered the first time he crept into Robert's mind after the Inception, and the helpful she-ghost that had invited him to know her secrets. Thinking back, her delicate, French voice was unmistakable, and he could have kicked himself for not identifying it sooner. He remembered following her through the droning wraiths, through a sunlight carnival, and into the recesses of Robert's mind where his father lay, silently disappointed, surrounded in pinwheels...
Eames growled and pushed his hair back. "Bloody hell, I'm an idiot. How did I not think of that sooner?"
Ariadne pushed carefully away from the subway. "Think of what?"
"When you extract from someone successfully you don't leave anything behind," Eames said, holstering his gun. "That's how it's supposed to work, anyway. But if you're not careful you can trip the subconscious mind, and the next time you show up, it knows better."
He climbed into the subway, checking quickly to make sure that Cobb, Charla, and the second Arthur were still stable. Ariadne retrieved her handgun and watched him anxiously from the entrance. "Are you trying to say Fischer trained himself?" she asked.
"The projections that ambushed us during the Inception weren't just militarized, they were antibodies." Eames gave Cobb's shoulder a pat and then hopped onto the platform again. "If there's anything I've learned from Robert's mind it's that he's extremely adaptive. If his projections figured out the first time that Arthur was trying to steal from him, they must have prepared themselves for a second attack."
Ariadne followed, but when she realized that he was leaving the platform, she grabbed his elbow. "Where are you going? We have to make sure this place stays secure so Arthur--"
Eames yanked his arm out of her grip and kept going. "Cobb said he'd handle Arthur. I'm going after Robert. Do you know what Arthur extracted from him?"
Ariadne shifted indecisively for a moment, but then followed, as he knew she would. She closed iron doors behind them. "No. He said that he didn't find anything."
That can't be true, not with how hostile Robert's projections are. It's not just the Inception. As they came out of the tunnel and into the grocery he glanced around, but saw no immediate sign of Arthur or Mitchell. The stronger the projections, the more the subject has to hide. They're protecting something. That's what Mal was trying to tell me.
"Where's Arthur?" Ariadne asked again as they reached the front of the store. "Eames, you have to understand, if he wakes up--"
"Open the doors," he said, pounding on the iron shutters.
She planted her feet. "Not until you tell me what you've done to him."
Eames leveled his gun again, and to her credit she didn't flinch. "Robert was already able to rebuild Nash's dream when he woke up," he said. "I'm willing to bet he can do the same for yours, which means you're unnecessary. If you want to stay, you do what I tell you."
Ariadne tried to meet him glare for glare, but when his finger curled around the trigger she relented. "If I open those doors, his projections are going to rip us apart."
"Just do it."
She ground her teeth, but without choices she at last closed her eyes for a brief moment of concentration. One of the shutters changed back to a glass door, and Eames hurried outside. The army of ghosts was waiting for them as always, and as Ariadne followed him into the street he urged her behind him. "Just stay close," he told her. "They won't hurt me."
The wraiths parted, opening a circle around the pair as they stepped forward. Eames glanced among them in search of a familiar face, and when he didn't see it, he decided to take a chance. "I'm here for the secrets!" he called into the crowd.
A hundred voices hissed in displeasure, and a ripple spread through them, making way for a singular ghost. She stepped out of the ring of her peers and strode forward on long, confident strides. "I know where they're hidden," she replied.
Eames motioned for Ariadne to stay put as he took a few forward steps of his own, putting him and the Mal-wraith close together. "You’ve been trying to show me your secrets for a long time, haven't you?" he said.
He reached out, and carefully plucked her white mask off. The black veil slid away, revealing Mal's true face and especially her haunting eyes that had been missing for so long. She was not a perfect Mal--she was Robert's Mal, her hair longer than it was meant to be, her lines sloping and almost maternal, as if she had been growing and maturing inside Robert's brain longer than her occupancy would imply. Eames smiled. "There you are. I should have known you weren't one of those others."
The wraiths in question shuffled closer, breath wheezing through their plastic masks in agitation. Mal gave them no notice. "I've had to hide myself for a long time," she said. "I've learned to adapt."
Eames all but beamed. He wished that their situation was not so dire, and that he could take his time exploring the awing spectacle he was witnessing: a projection so well formed and so focused that it stood against the horde of false specters, alert and sentient in a way he had never experienced. He had to remind himself that it was not a woman but merely a sliver of Robert's complex psyche before him. "Maybe Arthur didn't find anything to extract, but you did, didn't you?" he asked quietly. "You found Robert's secrets."
"I've been keeping his secrets for longer than that." Her wide brown eyes glistened with a myriad of unshed emotions, and she reached out, pressing her long hands against his chest. "Ever since the beginning. But then she came, and I realized how badly I've wanted to share my secrets. All this time."
Mal leaned into him, seeking comfort, and Eames wrapped his arms around her. "It's been so long," she whispered into his neck. "And so lonely. All I wanted was to tell someone, but there was no one, no one I could trust. No one who would listen. Not even Robert." When he stroked her back she sighed. "But you'll listen, won't you? We're sharing the same secrets, after all."
"I'm listening," Eames said quickly. He took her shoulders and urged her back. "Tell me."
Mal took a deep breath and met his gaze with all sincerity. "I don't know who I am," she confessed.
The wraiths crept closer. Their plastic lips parted and they growled in wordless intimidation. Ariadne frowned at them nervously. "Eames...?"
He ignored her; he couldn't look away from Mal's eyes, as wide and striking as Robert's own. "I know," he said. His heart sank into his stomach. "And I'm sorry--I did that to you."
Mal shook her head with quiet laughter. "No, don't be silly." She wiped her eyes and smiled at him through drying tears. "I've been keeping my secrets since long before you infected everyone else with your lies." The surrounding projections began to shudder, and when she flinched away from them Eames welcomed her again against his chest. "I wouldn't be able to admit they even were lies if not for you," she said as she nestled into him. "Yours was the only face I recognized." Her hands slid up to his cheeks, smearing the blood from his ear. "You're my man in uniform."
Warm breath passed over his face, and just as she kissed him, the city went dark. With the sky black and the buildings abandoned not a sliver of light remained, and Eames almost stumbled dizzily in the suddenly unidentifiable space. Only the body pressed to his remained tangible; it was no longer the feminine Mal, but a man, his hands bony and lips full as he kissed Eames desperately.
"Please," Robert's voice broke against his mouth. "Please, Eames."
Lights flickered behind him, red and blue and green, blinking on and off in a traveling rainbow. As Eames's eyes adjusted to their dim illumination he realized that the projection was gone, leaving him alone against the crowding wraiths. They were only shadows at first, until the lights twinkled on more and more buildings, spreading across every roof and spinning windmill. Within slow seconds the entire city was lit up once more with glowing, colored bulbs, neon signs and paper lanterns. Spotlights blazed to life in the distance and swayed across curtains of drifting snow. There was something childish and almost cheerful in the haphazardly scattered lights, weighed down by the heavy cloud cover and most especially, the shuffling city dwellers.
"Eames!"
Ariadne yanked on the back of his shirt, drawing his attention to the line of wraiths. One of them had broken from its peers and was charging toward him with a dagger clutched in her white hands. She swung her arm and Eames was just fast enough to catch her wrist before she could do any damage.
"Don't you listen to her," the projection snarled. "My father loves me!"
Ariadne leaned around him and fired, shooting the projection's mask off so that it crumpled to the street. Eames was about to berate her for it but then he realized that more wraiths were storming forward in similar fury. They had turned on him and there were thousands of them. He wrenched his shotgun free and fired, scattering those closest, but he knew there was only so much he could do against so many.
Ariadne pulled at him again, and he turned, noticing the ladder she was constructing along the side of the grocery. Between the two of them they were able to shoot a path to it and climb to the roof. The edge was lined with blinking lights that were hot to the touch, hissing with every snowflake that dared alight, and Eames was careful not to let his bare skin brush against them.
As soon as they were on the roof Ariadne removed the ladder. "What the hell is going on?" she asked, breathing hard. "His projections are insane!"
"No they're not." Eames shook himself and reloaded his shotgun. "They're protecting the Inception. But there's something else in Robert's mind that Mal is protecting from them. Something much deeper." He looked at her. "Are you sure you don't know what Arthur was sent to extract from him?"
"At this point, if I knew I would tell you," Ariadne said.
"Ariadne!"
They turned, and at last spotted Arthur clinging to the windmill blade rising above the rear of the building. His sleeve was torn but he was otherwise in one piece. Eames couldn't help but laugh at him. "How'd you get up there?"
Arthur shifted against the wobbly structure, and once it reached the roof line he leapt clear. As soon as he started toward them Eames lifted the shotgun. "Ready to pay me back already?" he taunted.
A hammer clicked close to his ear; he didn't have to look to know Ariadne had her gun to his head. "Eames please, don't."
Arthur stopped in front of them. "We're trying to end this," he said. "As soon as the other Arthur is awake Ariadne's going to wake herself up and disengage the PASIVs. Then we can all wake up--even Fischer."
The 'other Arthur'?" Eames glanced at Ariadne and saw concern. He's losing it, too. "I don't think that's going to work now."
"What do you mean?"
Though he hated to do it, he lowered his gun--he knew Ariadne wasn't cold-hearted enough to shoot him without hearing him out. "We're sinking," he declared. "Look at all this!" He gestured at the lights that were continuing to blossom over every telephone wire. "If we turn the PASIVs off Robert might not wake up from this."
"What do you want me to do about it?" Arthur said, throwing his hands up. "Even if I wanted to fix this I wouldn't know where to start. I just..." He rubbed his eyes, for a moment looking as frazzled as Eames had ever seen him. "I need to wake up," he continued sternly. "Stay if you want, but I have to--"
"I don't think that's going to work for you, either," Eames interrupted.
Arthur leaned back, his jaw working, and Eames went on before he could speak. "I don't know the specifics of what you're up to, but Banks lied to you about the job. Browning never hired you to destroy Robert this way." Next to him, Ariadne lowered her arm. "He thought you were all here to repair the damage our Inception did."
Arthur tensed all over. "No. No, that's not--"
"The whole job was just an excuse to get you and Robert together like this," said Eames. "Whatever secret he's hiding is the secret you were sent to find--the secret Banks is trying to extract from you." He smirked without humor. "And now that Cobb's on the case too, it's not going to stay hidden long."
Arthur looked to Ariadne, and she stepped closer, touching his side. "He's right," she said quietly. "Cobb's in the subway already--he just went under."
Arthur turned away. His hands shook as he raked them through his already mussed hair, and Eames was certain that if he was alone he might have been screaming. Ariadne started after him at first, but with a grimace she instead set her sights on Eames. "I'm going back down to wake him up," she said in an urgent whisper. "I'll stay here and help you with Fischer if I can, but Arthur can't do this anymore, I'm waking him up."
Eames took her by the elbow before she could get away. "Robert is in that tower," he said, pointing to the fortress that loomed at the city center, the only building devoid of lights and pinwheels. "We need to go after him and snap him out of this or every one of us is going to sink all the way into Limbo."
"Look at him," Ariadne insisted. Several steps away Arthur struggled out of his vest and tossed it over the edge of the roof. "He's falling apart."
"And that's exactly why I don't want to wake him up too soon," said Eames. "If his 'other Arthur' is in worse shape than this there's no guarantee he'll wake up at all. We have to trust Cobb to handle that part." He turned toward Arthur. "Arthur! How long have you known me?"
Arthur stopped his pacing and glared at Eames suspiciously. "Years. Shit, Eames, I don't know."
"And have I ever--"
"Yes." Arthur marched over to him with his finger raised. "Yes you have, more times than--"
Eames intercepted him, letting go of Ariadne to take his arm instead. "I'm not going to let anyone fall into Limbo," he said. "Not him, or you, or--" his lip quirked "--least of all, myself. And if you weren't half mad you'd be the one telling me that this is the right thing to do." He turned Arthur toward the fortress. "That's where we're going. When Cobb's taken care of your better half he'll meet us there. That's the plan and I'm sticking to it. Understand?"
Arthur stared grimly at the distant tower. He took a few deep breaths and started to nod, but was interrupted by a low growl. Eames smirked and turned, expecting to see Mitchell slinking into view, but started back in alarm when they were greeted with a far less welcome creature. It was long and well-muscled, but instead of furry paws pale, fleshy hands and a naked tail stretched out from beneath layers of shredded black fabric. At the end of its long neck sat a white mask bearing Eames's face. It was undersized and almost comical, but it reminded Eames too much of finding his face on the wall of Robert's safe, and it shot a chill into his bones.
"Okay Eames, you win," said Arthur. "Now will you repress it?"
Eames's brow furrowed. "He's not mine anymore."
The beast charged, and Eames thrust Arthur out of the way. A shotgun blast sheared half the mask off but it kept coming, and in such close quarters Eames could only think of one thing to do.
***
Arthur's back struck the rooftop cooling system, and a moment later he felt the shotgun clatter against his foot. He snatched the weapon up but when he turned he wasn't certain what he was witnessing let alone what he ought to shoot at. Ariadne was leaping out of the way of a whirlwind of white and black fur, two bodies rolling and grappling precariously close to the edge of the building. The beast's long limbs twisted at unnatural angles, digging its skeletal fingers into the tender joints of its attacker. But they were no match for claws and teeth, and with a crunch the wraithlike creature sank into little more than a curtain, leaving only a proud white tiger poised over its kill.
Arthur leveled the shotgun, but hesitated, and then Ariadne was at his arm. "Wait," she said quickly. "Wait, look." She pointed out the tiger's torn and bloody ear.
Arthur lowered his arm. "You're not serious."
Eames shook himself and, seemingly content to remain as he was, watched the pair with narrow scrutiny. His tail waved slowly back and forth.
Ariadne gulped. "Did you know he could--"
"No." Arthur shook his head, hating the way Eames's tiger face looked so damn smug. "Damn it."
Ariadne slipped her arm around his, and he passed the shotgun to his left so he could grip her hand. "So what do we do now?" she asked.
Arthur looked past Eames, past the ragged pinwheel that continued to churn against the building. He felt as if his brain was turning just as slowly around his skull, unending and inescapable. The tiger was still watching him, its claws clinking against the roof. "I guess we go there," he muttered, pointing out the looming fortress. "And hope we find Fischer."
Eames shook himself, shedding his fur and tail and whiskers. "There's a good man," he said, pushing to his feet. He gave his jaw a rub. "I knew you'd do the right thing, Arthur." He moved along the edge of the roof in search of a building close enough for them to cross.
Arthur sighed, but Ariadne's hand around his kept him focused, and reluctantly he followed.
To Chapter 16
Fandom: Inception
Title: The Helix Trap
Chapter: 15/19 (8,260 words) (For other parts, art and graphics, please check my My main post)
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Eames/Robert, Arthur/Ariadne, Cobb, Yusuf, Saito, Browning, and others.
Warnings: Violence, sexual content.
Disclaimer: These characters and setting do not belong to me and are being used without permission but for no profit
Summary: After the Inception proves successful, Eames tracks down Robert out of concern for its unusual side effects. Meanwhile, Arthur is hired to a dangerous job that forces the rest of the team to take sides: whether to defend Robert and his fragile mind, or ruin him completely.
Notes: C&C Welcome and appreciated. Thanks to my betas
chypie and tanithkitty for their input!Eames awoke to cold. When he turned his face up snowflakes landed on his closed eyelids, and rather than melt they tumbled down his cheeks and jaw, tickling his whiskers. They fell from the sky so slowly and in such numbers he couldn't help but draw them into his nostrils with every breath, like a pixelated mist. In other circumstances he might have been charmed, but the air was heavy and oppressive and made his stomach feel hollow.
He brushed the snow off his head and shoulders and opened his eyes. They had awoken to a rooftop along the northern edge of the city, overlooking what was by now a nearly alien landscape. The buildings and streets were still curved, but they held none of the earthly precision Eames remembered from his last visit, to him only minutes before. Jagged skyscrapers formed an irregular skyline, slanted and some even spiraled, their eaves slick with ice. Atop every building, from squatting shops to towering apartments, mighty windmills made from iron rails and broken glass churned on in creaking solemnity.
"I was underground before I woke up," Cobb said next to him, his voice weak with disbelief. "Did it look like this before?"
Eames turned in a slow circle. Behind them a huge blade made of shop awnings stretched over construction beams rose over the roof line in steady rotation. "No. This is all new." He turned back to Cobb. "Are we seeing the same thing? Nash's dream should have collapsed by now but if Ariadne is still under..."
"If you're looking at snow and pinwheels, it's the same. And it feels stable." Cobb shook his head. "Did you teach him to do this?"
"I'm flattered you think I could." He glanced away and noticed Browning at the edge of the roof, staring at the bizarre landscape in wide-eyed shock. Thinking they had a moment of semi-privacy, he said to Cobb, "Now tell me everything you know."
Cobb shook his head again. "Not much. Because of the two PASIVs there are apparently two Arthurs and two Roberts. From the sound of it they're supposed to remain on equal levels, or...I'm not sure. Something bad happens."
"How bad?"
"I don't know--something painful, that much I know." Cobb rubbed the back of his skull. "Damn it, Arthur. If he wasn't in so much trouble already I'd kill him."
"What else?" Eames prompted impatiently.
"Okay, okay--Arthur is split across levels somehow." He held up his hands at different heights to signify. "Banks has one of him in Level Two and is trying to extract something from him. He wouldn't tell me what, but..." A familiar sharpness gleamed in Cobb's eyes. "It has something to do with me, and I need to find out what it is."
"What the hell is going on?" Browning said as he rejoined them. He jabbed a finger in the direction of the ragged city. "What the hell kind of dream is this?"
Eames rubbed his mouth as he came to the unsettling truth. "This is all Robert's doing," he explained. "His subconscious must have stepped in to rebuild Nash's dream after he woke up, but he's not stable. He's..."
He trailed off as he suddenly recognized the uneasy feeling in his gut. "This is bad." He looked to Cobb. "Can you feel that?"
Cobb straightened, his eyes losing focus as he tried to understand Eames's meaning. When it came to him, he paled. "We're sinking," he said.
"What?" Browning frowned at them in confusion. "What does that mean?"
"It means that Fischer is retreating into his own subconscious," Cobb explained as Eames moved away. "He can't handle what's happening here and the only way his mind knows to deal with it is to go deeper. He must be processing at an extraordinary rate, but his brain can't do that for long before..."
Browning caught on with a shudder. "You're talking about Limbo?"
Eames pressed his hands to the stone rail circling the roof. He stared out over the maze of twirling buildings, and below them the stream of familiar black-clad ghosts, trying to understand how everything had gone so wrong so quickly. Panic simmered behind his ribs and pushed an ancient, cowardly voice to his surface: Just wake up. He's not worth this much risk.
"You know about Limbo?"
"I only know what I've heard from Charla," Browning said. "She sometimes works with coma patients at her clinic. But this...I don't understand why Charla would do this. I thought that she and I had..."
Eames glanced back just in time to see the color drain from Browning's face. The concern on display was real, and it made Eames rethink much of the research he had done in Sydney. "Do you know something?" he asked.
Browning covered his mouth as if about to be ill. "My God." His gaze danced between the two of them. "She really is trying to kill him, isn't she?"
The ground rocked beneath them. Eames clutched at the stone rail as thunder rolled up and down the city, and all over buildings trembled on their foundations. The severest of the shock lasted only a moment, and then calmed to a dull, grinding vibration. As Eames scanned the horizon, searching for a cause, he finally noticed the office building where he had first met Robert's projections. It was taller than he remembered, and was the only structure left not topped with some manner of pinwheel. Instead, the roof made up the base of a blocky, metallic structure that he recognized well, with fortified towers and thick, slanted windows.
My fortress. Eames took in a long, shaky breath. He must be in there. As he stared he noticed a window creeping along the wall of the south tower. No, it's not moving--we are. He looked over the city again with fresh eyes. We're spinning.
Eames laughed incredulously. "It's a pinwheel," he said, waving Cobb and Browning over. "Look--look what he's done. The entire city is turning."
The three men stared in astonishment. Cobb shook his head, and Eames saw in him the same gleam of awe that he was feeling. I haven't built dreams like this for years, Eames thought, fear and excitement burning in his chest. Watching the city turn beneath the lazily drifting snow reminded him of days long past, when dreams were meant to be relished instead of exploited. It was beautiful and bittersweet.
But it's killing him. Eames shook himself, and faced Browning. "Mr. Browning, if you know anything more about this, you have to tell us," he said.
"No." Browning shrugged out of his suit coat, and Eames and Cobb both leaned back in surprise to see he was already wearing a handgun holster. He freed the weapon and checked to make sure it was loaded. "Nothing I know is going to help Robert now. We have to wake him up."
Eames grabbed his elbow. "Then you do know something."
"If Robert is slipping into some kind of dream coma we don't have time to bullshit about this," Browning said, shaking him off. "If you're really here to help him you should know that." He shoved the gun back in its holster.
"He's right--we don't have time to argue," said Cobb. "What we need to do is get everyone in one place, here in the first level. It's the only way to be sure everyone's ready for a simultaneous disengaging of the PASIVs. Yusuf said that Banks should be in the northwest, and Arthur will be there, too. That's where I'm going."
Eames took in a deep breath. "At least one Robert must be here, in this level, for the amount of building that's going on. Do you think he's been...split?"
"If one of him is still under, it must be the one with Banks."
"Then the other must be in the fortress." Eames looked to it, and though his first instinct was to head there immediately, he consulted his reason. If Banks is in Level Two that means only Arthur and Ariadne are left, and they'll be after Banks. No one will be after him up there. "I'll come with you to Point Two," he concluded. "If that's where Arthur is, I want to have a word with him myself."
Browning frowned at them with distrust, but after some consideration of his own he said, "I'm going after Robert in that tower. He'll need to know we're here to wake him up."
"It's very important that you wait for us to get there," Cobb said quickly. "We have to do this fast, but by the book."
"I know, all right? Better than you do." He turned toward the other end of the roof.
"Stay away from his projections," Eames called after him. He well remembered the strange greetings Robert's projections had given him in Munich, when he was wearing Browning's face. "We'll meet you there." Browning only grunted in response.
Cobb and Eames turned the other way. "Even if he doesn't make it, at least he sees now what's going on," Cobb said as they climbed onto the ledge.
"I'm going down to the street," said Eames. "The projections won't hurt me and I'll be able to get there faster than jumping rooftops." He leapt down to the fire escape.
"What do you mean, his projections--"
"Just trust me, all right?" Eames continued to climb down. "Be careful and I'll meet you there."
As soon as Eames dropped into the alley he was surrounded on all sides by curious wraiths. They touched his shoulders and arms and immediately began to tug him into the street. "Eames is back," they murmured, and he realized quickly that they were turning him toward the tower. "Eames is here."
"Eames is late," one said nearby. It was wearing a white military cap over its mask. "Eames said he would only be an hour."
Eames winced, and pulled against them to instead head northwest. "I need to find Point Two," he told the wraiths when they tried to urge him back. "Where are the other extractors? Do you know?"
A hundred black eyes watched him. One by one the ghosts turned and pointed, their white, knobby fingers indicating a distant rooftop. Squinting against the pouring snow, Eames saw a fire escape pull away from its building with a groan, forming a catwalk across which a motorcycle passed.
There they are. Eames clenched his jaw and started after them, the waves of ghosts parting out of his way.
***
"It's getting harder to build," Ariadne said as she halted the motorcycle on the opposite roof. "I can feel him fighting me over every change."
Arthur's hands flexed against her waist. "It's amazing what he's become capable of in so short a time, but it's not a good sign." He climbed off the back of the motorcycle and pulled a shotgun out of its holster. "Let's leave the bike for now. We're not far from the store."
Ariadne turned off the engine and stowed the keys in her pocket. "It should still be secure," she said as they made their way into the building and down the stairs toward the lobby. "We can shoot our way through those things to get inside and I'll seal the doors behind us." She saw Arthur trail his hand along the wall as they rounded a corner in the stairwell. "How're you holding up?"
"I'm fine," he replied precisely. "Just let me know if you find yourself unable to build anymore."
They snuck out a side door and into the alley, right into another horde of projections. Arthur's shotgun cut a ragged path through them while Ariadne picked off any that attempted to close in from behind. She had learned early on that shooting the masks was the most effective method of felling them, and they scattered into billowing fabric with every shot. As they crossed the street toward the entrance to the grocery she stayed close to Arthur's back, and while covering him noticed a human face among the crowd heading toward them.
Eames. Ariadne leveled her gun with one hand and pulled at Arthur's vest with the other. "It's Eames--"
Arthur whipped around. As soon as Ariadne felt him move she did the same, and charged through the remaining wraiths into the grocery store. There were a few projections already inside and by the time she had taken care of them Arthur was next to her again, shoving her behind the row of cash registers as bullets ricocheted overhead.
"Seal it off," Arthur hissed. "Hurry."
Ariadne closed her eyes, concentrating, but when she turned all the storefront windows from glass to steel she felt one resist a moment longer than the rest. It crashed inward, and as wraiths tried to pour in she had to resort to drawing a partition of metal out of the floor to block the opening. Another round of bullets pounded the registers, and she and Arthur huddled close together, reloading.
"Eames, stop!" Arthur shouted once the volley subsided. "You're going to collapse the dream!"
"I'm not here to kill Ariadne," Eames replied. His footsteps drew closer. "Just you."
Arthur swung the muzzle of his shotgun over the counter and fired blindly. "Keep going," he told Ariadne. "I'll handle Eames."
She shook her head. "But if he kills you--"
Eames opened fire again, and Arthur grabbed Ariadne's arm, pulling her down the line of registers. "Either way you've got to wake the other me up. Just go--I'll cover you."
Ariadne bit her lip, but when Eames paused again she dashed out from under cover. Every shot fired made her heart pound even knowing they weren't for her. Just hurry, she told herself as she made a run for the staff door at the back of the building. As soon as both of him are here we can just wake up and end this job once and for all.
She shoved her way through the staff area, and just as she reached the door to the break room became aware of something pounding in the air duct over her head. More projections? Are they coming in through the roof? When she tried to imagine the top of the building all she could picture was spinning pinwheels, and she abandoned the effort. Just hurry, hurry!
The break room opened into a steep tunnel heading below the store. Ariadne rushed down the corridor, ignoring the spinning decorations, and onto the subway platform. She immediately knew that something was wrong. The chamber reeked of blood and gasoline, and there was a room nestled into the wall she was sure neither she nor Nash was responsible for: an immense black safe, its doors flung open, its innards dark and empty.
Ariadne peered inside the safe and felt a chill. This is the safe I designed, she knew immediately. Fright propelled her away from it. For the Inception. What's it doing here?
Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Ariadne spun, her gun leveled, but had just enough presence of mind not to shoot the moment she saw who it was. "Cobb?"
Cobb held up his hands, a gun in one of them. "Don't shoot."
Ariadne shifted her weight anxiously. "How'd you get in here?"
"Through the roof," he said. He moved toward her, his hands still raised. "I'm not here to wake you up--I'm still on your side, all right?"
She hesitated a moment longer, but the thought of Arthur upstairs under a hail of gunfire weakened her, and she lowered the gun. "We have to stop Eames," she said urgently. "If he kills Arthur now it's going to drive him crazy! Shit, Arthur."
Ariadne holstered her gun and hurried to the subway car. The door was already open, and there was no sign of Nash. She looked over the car's occupants and blinked. "Where's Fischer?" Only Charla and Arthur remained attached to the PASIV.
Cobb joined her. "Yusuf is awake," he said. "We figured that Fischer must have been pushed to Level One, but it looks like this one found a way up, too." He climbed inside and sat down on the cot that had been Robert's.
Ariadne stared. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going under." Cobb unbuttoned his cuff and shoved his sleeve up. "To find out what Banks is extracting from Arthur."
"What?" Ariadne surged forward and grabbed the IV before he could insert it. "No, we have to wake him up."
She reached for Arthur's arm, but Cobb snatched her wrist before she could get far. "If Arthur leaves her dream, she'll wake herself up and go straight to Browning," he reasoned. "He already suspects us for the Inception and I am not going to prison." He let her go and held out his hand expectantly. "I'm sure you don't want to end up there, either."
If she's already after Arthur, she'll be after you, too, Ariadne thought. Her stomach twisted nauseously. "But we don't have time for this," she said. "I'm losing control of this dream, and Arthur's already exhausted. If Eames kills him--"
"The only way to settle this is to let Banks get what she wants," Cobb interrupted. His eyes hardened. "Or I deal with her myself. Either way I know this all has something to do with me. Doesn't it?"
Ariadne faltered beneath his unfaltering glare. He was asking her for what she knew and the last thing she wanted was to tell him, knowing what his reaction would be. Her hand shook as she handed over the needle. "Whatever you do, please hurry. I don't know how much more of this Arthur can take, and I will wake him up if I have to."
Cobb stared at her a moment longer, trying to draw the truth out, but when he failed he shook his head. "I'll be quick," he promised as he stretched out on the cot. He slid the needle into his arm and was quickly asleep.
Ariadne hopped onto the platform and moved to the nearest pillar. With the control panel exposed she did a few desperate calculations and was at last able to interrupt the car's program, keeping it halted at its current location. At this rate we'll never make it to Point Three anyway. No place in the city will be safer than this now. She took in a deep breath. Now to go help Arthur.
She started toward the exit corridor, but as she passed by the open safe she felt another chill, and heard a snap of glass breaking. Goose bumps rippled up her arms and she turned, watching in shock as long, elegant fingers curled around the safe's door. A familiar brunette leaned out of the darkness, her eyes round and hypnotizing.
"What are you doing here?"
***
Eames sprinted down the narrow aisle, condiment bottles bursting in his wake beneath Arthur's gunfire. As he rounded the corner he fired blindly behind him, disrupting the pursuit long enough that he could dive for cover behind the squat meat coolers. "I know you're not a dreamer this time," he called, and fired again to drive Arthur behind a far aisle. "Which means it won't make any difference if I wake you up."
"I could say the same to you." Eames could hear the metallic clinks of Arthur reloading. "This isn't any of your business, Eames. Haven't you felt by now that we're sinking? Isn't that usually your cue to turn tail?"
"So you can tell." Eames slapped a new magazine into his own weapon. "You know what you're doing to him, don't you?" He shook his head. "You and I, we've done some fucked up things to people over the years. But I think you have me beat now."
"We both know that's bullshit," Arthur said, "coming from Sullivan's ex."
Eames scowled and rose over the back of the cooler. His gun was poised but before he could get a good enough gauge on where Arthur was bullets rang out, and pain exploded across his right ear. He was thrown onto his back, blood spewing from the wound in his scalp.
"Shit." Eames dropped his gun reflexively so he could cover the torn flesh. "You shot my goddamn ear off!"
Arthur leapt onto the cooler and leveled his handgun. "Just stay the hell out of this."
Eames lunged, catching Arthur around the knees and sending him crashing to the linoleum floor. He clamored over the cooler and pounced; his heel slammed Arthur's wrist into the ground and sent his handgun clattering away. Arthur cried out but was far from ready to give up--he twisted, displaying impressive flexibility as he wrapped both legs around Eames's thigh and jerked him off balance.
Eames landed on the hard edge of the meat cooler. It dug into his ribs and stole his breath, and then Arthur was on him, choking him. Instinctually his countenance changed into a frail and gasping Ariadne. "Arthur, please!" he sobbed.
"You really think I'd fall for that?" Arthur said. He shoved his knee into Eames's chest.
"Worth a try." Eames's face twisted as he changed again; extra pounds of muscle swelled on his torso, biceps, and thighs, and his neck broadened until it was too think for Arthur to get his hands around. He swung his first like a sledgehammer into Arthur's jaw, and grinned bitterly as he was thrown to the ground.
Arthur groaned and grabbed for the nearby shelves. "Eames." He pulled himself upright as Eames pursued. "Wait, we're--"
Eames punched him again, into a promotional display. "Didn't I warn you to stay away?" he growled as he grabbed Arthur by the back of the neck. "You and your new girlfriend. I'll take care of you both!"
He flung Arthur across the aisle, and just when Arthur managed to get his feet beneath him he attacked again, shoving him face first into the canned meats. Arthur flailed, ineffectually at first, but when Eames tried to get his arm around his throat he grabbed a can off the shelf and slammed its curved edge into Eames's bloody ear.
Eames reeled, bellowing in anger as much as pain as Arthur wriggled out of his grip and made a run for it. Hissing, he followed. They raced to the front of the store, and before Eames could grab him again Arthur dove behind the registers. He spun to his feet a moment later and shoved his shotgun into Eames's throat.
Eames halted, his Forgery falling away as he glared at Arthur across the barrel. "Go ahead," he taunted.
Arthur's finger curled around the trigger. "You'll just come right back, won't you?"
"Nothing you can do about that. I'll keep coming back until this is over."
Both men were drawn by a low growl rippling down the aisles. They turned, and Eames couldn't help but smirk at the bulky white tiger prowling toward them. "Ah. Lovely timing."
Arthur's eyes widened, and was distracted enough by the approaching beast that Eames was able to shove the shotgun aside. They grappled for it, and a shot exploded the far register. Arthur almost managed to get it under control again, but then the tiger was nearly on them, growling through bared fangs. Arthur relinquished the weapon and retreated.
"Eames, is that yours?" he demanded as he backed down the line of sealed shop windows.
"Of course." Eames dreamed up a holster for his newly acquired shotgun and stepped out of the tiger's way--it was focused entirely on Arthur. "This is Mitchell, my 'head of security.'"
Arthur looked left and right, reaching for a gun in his belt that wasn't there. "What the hell are you doing? Suppress it."
"So sorry, Darling," said Eames. "I would if I could, but I'm under a lot of stress at the moment." His voice lowered. "And my subconscious is extremely unhappy with you."
"Eames--"
The tiger roared, and with a twitch of its tail it pounced. Arthur scrambled over the counters and into the aisles. "Eames!" He leapt, propelling off the lower shelves of one aisle to boost himself on top of the opposite. "Eames, I'm going to pay you back for this!" he shouted as the tiger chased him down the building.
"We'll see." Eames spared only a moment for amusement, and then he hurried to the back door that Ariadne had disappeared through earlier.
***
Ariadne backed away with halting steps. Even remembering Arthur's warning the sight of Mal stepping gracefully out of the safe was a shock, and she found herself unable to take a full breath. Mal was wearing an elegant black nightgown and her hair was delicately curled, just as she remembered from Cobb's most intimate memories.
"You're not supposed to be here," Ariadne whispered, retreating beneath Mal's heavy stare. "Fischer...he doesn't even know you."
Mal cocked her head to the side. "What makes you think I'm Fischer's?" she asked, slowly pursuing on bare feet.
Ariadne swallowed hard. "Are you...are you Cobb's?" She glanced behind her, but Cobb was deeply asleep, and she had no idea if it was possible for him to project up a level. Her stomach twisted. "Or are you Arthur's?"
"What do you know about Arthur?" Mal's lips curled in a coy smile. "Do you think because he kissed you, that makes you lovers?"
"What?" Ariadne jumped when something struck her shoulders--she had backed into the subway car. "No, I..." She took in a deep breath and tried to face Mal down with courage. "You're just a projection. I don't have to answer to you."
"Such a foolish little girl," Mal said, continuing toward her. "Desperate to believe in the fairy tale. Are you trying to prove me wrong?"
Ariadne pressed her trembling hands to the polished metal behind her. "I don’t know what you're talking about," she said. "You're not--"
Mal stopped in front of her and laughed. "You're shaking," she noted. "Are you afraid of me?"
She shook her head. "No. No, you're not even real."
"Aren't I?" Mal leaned forward, placing one hand and then the other deliberately on the wall of the car, on either side of Ariadne's face. "How can I not be real when what I have to tell you is the truth?"
Is she really Arthur's projection? Ariadne's heart pounded and she tried to lean back, even though there was nowhere to go. Can he not suppress them anymore? She was afraid of the answer but she asked anyway, "What truth?"
Mal's smile widened cruelly. "You're not really in love with Arthur," she declared. "In fact, he frightens you. But you just can't help yourself, can you?" She pressed her index finger into Ariadne's cheek and dragged it down to her chin. "Just like with my Dom."
Ariadne cringed away. "What are you talking about? I didn't--Cobb and I--"
"He needed you," Mal continued. "He called out to you, and oh, how happy you were to answer." She let her hands fall but she didn't step back, still crowding Ariadne's space and making her wish she could shrink away. "Then, and now, all a man need do is need you. Want you. Is that all love is to you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ariadne said again. She slid down the subway car, away from her. "I never said I was in love with Arthur, I just--"
Mal grabbed her by the throat and pulled her back. Ariadne gasped, but then sharp nails dug into her neck, and she didn't fight other than to grab for Mal's wrist.
"A wretched little girl like you will never have the love of great men," Mal hissed, winding her free hand in Ariadne's hair. "The best you can hope for is to be useful for a short while, and pretend that's enough. Pretend that you care for them. But you will never know love." Her lips pulled back in a sneer. "You'll never love any--"
A bullet exploded out Mal's temple, and Ariadne screamed, throwing herself against the car as the body slumped away from her. For a moment Mal's fingers remained tangled in Ariadne's hair, and she shuddered in disgust as she struggled to dislodge them. When she was at last free she jerked her handgun out and whirled in search of their attacker.
Eames grabbed her wrist, shoving her hand into the subway hard enough that she let go of her weapon involuntarily. She yelped, and a moment later found herself again with her back to the wall. She grimaced up at him. "Eames..."
Eames leaned to the side enough that he could see into the subway, and swiftly returned. "Where's Robert?" he asked sternly.
"I don't know," Ariadne said. Breath was still hard to come by but she stared him down as best she could. "Where's Arthur? What did you do--"
He shoved the muzzle of his gun under her chin. "Where is Robert?" he asked again.
"I don't know!" She squirmed. "He must have woken up, but I don't know where he is--he was gone when I got here!"
Eames lowered his gun with a muttered curse. "Then they must both be in the fortress after all." He looked up and down the platform, and his gaze paused on Mal. "One of your projections?"
Ariadne winced and glanced down. Though she hated to admit it, there was a tremor in her gut that spoke the truth. "Yes," she said weakly. "I...I think so. It's Mal."
Eames frowned. He crouched down and rolled the body over so he could get a look at the projection's face. Her temple was a shredded mess but her eyes were wide and unmistakable, and a sudden revelation thrummed into his chest. "Mal," he repeated as the gears of his mind churned. He looked up to Ariadne, who was still shaking slightly against the subway car. "Is this the first time you've seen her in here?"
Ariadne pushed her hair out of her face, gradually regaining her composure. "Yes, but Arthur said he saw her in Level Two. Where is Arthur?"
Eames ignored her question. He stood, still staring at Mal's pale, dead face. It clicked. "Damn it. How did I not recognize her before?"
"What?"
He turned on Ariadne with his gun raised again. "Did Mal help Arthur train Robert?" he asked.
"Arthur didn't train Fischer," Ariadne started. "He--"
"I saw the payoff myself, so don't try to--"
"He extracted from Fischer!" Ariadne finished. When Eames leaned back she shoved the gun away from her and continued. "Arthur told us that Fischer Sr. hired him to extract something from his son, but he didn't find anything worth getting. He did not train Fischer."
"An extraction?" Eames stared down at Mal again, deep in thought. "Was Mal part of his team on that job?"
"I don't know, but...I think so."
Eames continued to watch the unmoving corpse. He remembered the first time he crept into Robert's mind after the Inception, and the helpful she-ghost that had invited him to know her secrets. Thinking back, her delicate, French voice was unmistakable, and he could have kicked himself for not identifying it sooner. He remembered following her through the droning wraiths, through a sunlight carnival, and into the recesses of Robert's mind where his father lay, silently disappointed, surrounded in pinwheels...
Eames growled and pushed his hair back. "Bloody hell, I'm an idiot. How did I not think of that sooner?"
Ariadne pushed carefully away from the subway. "Think of what?"
"When you extract from someone successfully you don't leave anything behind," Eames said, holstering his gun. "That's how it's supposed to work, anyway. But if you're not careful you can trip the subconscious mind, and the next time you show up, it knows better."
He climbed into the subway, checking quickly to make sure that Cobb, Charla, and the second Arthur were still stable. Ariadne retrieved her handgun and watched him anxiously from the entrance. "Are you trying to say Fischer trained himself?" she asked.
"The projections that ambushed us during the Inception weren't just militarized, they were antibodies." Eames gave Cobb's shoulder a pat and then hopped onto the platform again. "If there's anything I've learned from Robert's mind it's that he's extremely adaptive. If his projections figured out the first time that Arthur was trying to steal from him, they must have prepared themselves for a second attack."
Ariadne followed, but when she realized that he was leaving the platform, she grabbed his elbow. "Where are you going? We have to make sure this place stays secure so Arthur--"
Eames yanked his arm out of her grip and kept going. "Cobb said he'd handle Arthur. I'm going after Robert. Do you know what Arthur extracted from him?"
Ariadne shifted indecisively for a moment, but then followed, as he knew she would. She closed iron doors behind them. "No. He said that he didn't find anything."
That can't be true, not with how hostile Robert's projections are. It's not just the Inception. As they came out of the tunnel and into the grocery he glanced around, but saw no immediate sign of Arthur or Mitchell. The stronger the projections, the more the subject has to hide. They're protecting something. That's what Mal was trying to tell me.
"Where's Arthur?" Ariadne asked again as they reached the front of the store. "Eames, you have to understand, if he wakes up--"
"Open the doors," he said, pounding on the iron shutters.
She planted her feet. "Not until you tell me what you've done to him."
Eames leveled his gun again, and to her credit she didn't flinch. "Robert was already able to rebuild Nash's dream when he woke up," he said. "I'm willing to bet he can do the same for yours, which means you're unnecessary. If you want to stay, you do what I tell you."
Ariadne tried to meet him glare for glare, but when his finger curled around the trigger she relented. "If I open those doors, his projections are going to rip us apart."
"Just do it."
She ground her teeth, but without choices she at last closed her eyes for a brief moment of concentration. One of the shutters changed back to a glass door, and Eames hurried outside. The army of ghosts was waiting for them as always, and as Ariadne followed him into the street he urged her behind him. "Just stay close," he told her. "They won't hurt me."
The wraiths parted, opening a circle around the pair as they stepped forward. Eames glanced among them in search of a familiar face, and when he didn't see it, he decided to take a chance. "I'm here for the secrets!" he called into the crowd.
A hundred voices hissed in displeasure, and a ripple spread through them, making way for a singular ghost. She stepped out of the ring of her peers and strode forward on long, confident strides. "I know where they're hidden," she replied.
Eames motioned for Ariadne to stay put as he took a few forward steps of his own, putting him and the Mal-wraith close together. "You’ve been trying to show me your secrets for a long time, haven't you?" he said.
He reached out, and carefully plucked her white mask off. The black veil slid away, revealing Mal's true face and especially her haunting eyes that had been missing for so long. She was not a perfect Mal--she was Robert's Mal, her hair longer than it was meant to be, her lines sloping and almost maternal, as if she had been growing and maturing inside Robert's brain longer than her occupancy would imply. Eames smiled. "There you are. I should have known you weren't one of those others."
The wraiths in question shuffled closer, breath wheezing through their plastic masks in agitation. Mal gave them no notice. "I've had to hide myself for a long time," she said. "I've learned to adapt."
Eames all but beamed. He wished that their situation was not so dire, and that he could take his time exploring the awing spectacle he was witnessing: a projection so well formed and so focused that it stood against the horde of false specters, alert and sentient in a way he had never experienced. He had to remind himself that it was not a woman but merely a sliver of Robert's complex psyche before him. "Maybe Arthur didn't find anything to extract, but you did, didn't you?" he asked quietly. "You found Robert's secrets."
"I've been keeping his secrets for longer than that." Her wide brown eyes glistened with a myriad of unshed emotions, and she reached out, pressing her long hands against his chest. "Ever since the beginning. But then she came, and I realized how badly I've wanted to share my secrets. All this time."
Mal leaned into him, seeking comfort, and Eames wrapped his arms around her. "It's been so long," she whispered into his neck. "And so lonely. All I wanted was to tell someone, but there was no one, no one I could trust. No one who would listen. Not even Robert." When he stroked her back she sighed. "But you'll listen, won't you? We're sharing the same secrets, after all."
"I'm listening," Eames said quickly. He took her shoulders and urged her back. "Tell me."
Mal took a deep breath and met his gaze with all sincerity. "I don't know who I am," she confessed.
The wraiths crept closer. Their plastic lips parted and they growled in wordless intimidation. Ariadne frowned at them nervously. "Eames...?"
He ignored her; he couldn't look away from Mal's eyes, as wide and striking as Robert's own. "I know," he said. His heart sank into his stomach. "And I'm sorry--I did that to you."
Mal shook her head with quiet laughter. "No, don't be silly." She wiped her eyes and smiled at him through drying tears. "I've been keeping my secrets since long before you infected everyone else with your lies." The surrounding projections began to shudder, and when she flinched away from them Eames welcomed her again against his chest. "I wouldn't be able to admit they even were lies if not for you," she said as she nestled into him. "Yours was the only face I recognized." Her hands slid up to his cheeks, smearing the blood from his ear. "You're my man in uniform."
Warm breath passed over his face, and just as she kissed him, the city went dark. With the sky black and the buildings abandoned not a sliver of light remained, and Eames almost stumbled dizzily in the suddenly unidentifiable space. Only the body pressed to his remained tangible; it was no longer the feminine Mal, but a man, his hands bony and lips full as he kissed Eames desperately.
"Please," Robert's voice broke against his mouth. "Please, Eames."
Lights flickered behind him, red and blue and green, blinking on and off in a traveling rainbow. As Eames's eyes adjusted to their dim illumination he realized that the projection was gone, leaving him alone against the crowding wraiths. They were only shadows at first, until the lights twinkled on more and more buildings, spreading across every roof and spinning windmill. Within slow seconds the entire city was lit up once more with glowing, colored bulbs, neon signs and paper lanterns. Spotlights blazed to life in the distance and swayed across curtains of drifting snow. There was something childish and almost cheerful in the haphazardly scattered lights, weighed down by the heavy cloud cover and most especially, the shuffling city dwellers.
"Eames!"
Ariadne yanked on the back of his shirt, drawing his attention to the line of wraiths. One of them had broken from its peers and was charging toward him with a dagger clutched in her white hands. She swung her arm and Eames was just fast enough to catch her wrist before she could do any damage.
"Don't you listen to her," the projection snarled. "My father loves me!"
Ariadne leaned around him and fired, shooting the projection's mask off so that it crumpled to the street. Eames was about to berate her for it but then he realized that more wraiths were storming forward in similar fury. They had turned on him and there were thousands of them. He wrenched his shotgun free and fired, scattering those closest, but he knew there was only so much he could do against so many.
Ariadne pulled at him again, and he turned, noticing the ladder she was constructing along the side of the grocery. Between the two of them they were able to shoot a path to it and climb to the roof. The edge was lined with blinking lights that were hot to the touch, hissing with every snowflake that dared alight, and Eames was careful not to let his bare skin brush against them.
As soon as they were on the roof Ariadne removed the ladder. "What the hell is going on?" she asked, breathing hard. "His projections are insane!"
"No they're not." Eames shook himself and reloaded his shotgun. "They're protecting the Inception. But there's something else in Robert's mind that Mal is protecting from them. Something much deeper." He looked at her. "Are you sure you don't know what Arthur was sent to extract from him?"
"At this point, if I knew I would tell you," Ariadne said.
"Ariadne!"
They turned, and at last spotted Arthur clinging to the windmill blade rising above the rear of the building. His sleeve was torn but he was otherwise in one piece. Eames couldn't help but laugh at him. "How'd you get up there?"
Arthur shifted against the wobbly structure, and once it reached the roof line he leapt clear. As soon as he started toward them Eames lifted the shotgun. "Ready to pay me back already?" he taunted.
A hammer clicked close to his ear; he didn't have to look to know Ariadne had her gun to his head. "Eames please, don't."
Arthur stopped in front of them. "We're trying to end this," he said. "As soon as the other Arthur is awake Ariadne's going to wake herself up and disengage the PASIVs. Then we can all wake up--even Fischer."
The 'other Arthur'?" Eames glanced at Ariadne and saw concern. He's losing it, too. "I don't think that's going to work now."
"What do you mean?"
Though he hated to do it, he lowered his gun--he knew Ariadne wasn't cold-hearted enough to shoot him without hearing him out. "We're sinking," he declared. "Look at all this!" He gestured at the lights that were continuing to blossom over every telephone wire. "If we turn the PASIVs off Robert might not wake up from this."
"What do you want me to do about it?" Arthur said, throwing his hands up. "Even if I wanted to fix this I wouldn't know where to start. I just..." He rubbed his eyes, for a moment looking as frazzled as Eames had ever seen him. "I need to wake up," he continued sternly. "Stay if you want, but I have to--"
"I don't think that's going to work for you, either," Eames interrupted.
Arthur leaned back, his jaw working, and Eames went on before he could speak. "I don't know the specifics of what you're up to, but Banks lied to you about the job. Browning never hired you to destroy Robert this way." Next to him, Ariadne lowered her arm. "He thought you were all here to repair the damage our Inception did."
Arthur tensed all over. "No. No, that's not--"
"The whole job was just an excuse to get you and Robert together like this," said Eames. "Whatever secret he's hiding is the secret you were sent to find--the secret Banks is trying to extract from you." He smirked without humor. "And now that Cobb's on the case too, it's not going to stay hidden long."
Arthur looked to Ariadne, and she stepped closer, touching his side. "He's right," she said quietly. "Cobb's in the subway already--he just went under."
Arthur turned away. His hands shook as he raked them through his already mussed hair, and Eames was certain that if he was alone he might have been screaming. Ariadne started after him at first, but with a grimace she instead set her sights on Eames. "I'm going back down to wake him up," she said in an urgent whisper. "I'll stay here and help you with Fischer if I can, but Arthur can't do this anymore, I'm waking him up."
Eames took her by the elbow before she could get away. "Robert is in that tower," he said, pointing to the fortress that loomed at the city center, the only building devoid of lights and pinwheels. "We need to go after him and snap him out of this or every one of us is going to sink all the way into Limbo."
"Look at him," Ariadne insisted. Several steps away Arthur struggled out of his vest and tossed it over the edge of the roof. "He's falling apart."
"And that's exactly why I don't want to wake him up too soon," said Eames. "If his 'other Arthur' is in worse shape than this there's no guarantee he'll wake up at all. We have to trust Cobb to handle that part." He turned toward Arthur. "Arthur! How long have you known me?"
Arthur stopped his pacing and glared at Eames suspiciously. "Years. Shit, Eames, I don't know."
"And have I ever--"
"Yes." Arthur marched over to him with his finger raised. "Yes you have, more times than--"
Eames intercepted him, letting go of Ariadne to take his arm instead. "I'm not going to let anyone fall into Limbo," he said. "Not him, or you, or--" his lip quirked "--least of all, myself. And if you weren't half mad you'd be the one telling me that this is the right thing to do." He turned Arthur toward the fortress. "That's where we're going. When Cobb's taken care of your better half he'll meet us there. That's the plan and I'm sticking to it. Understand?"
Arthur stared grimly at the distant tower. He took a few deep breaths and started to nod, but was interrupted by a low growl. Eames smirked and turned, expecting to see Mitchell slinking into view, but started back in alarm when they were greeted with a far less welcome creature. It was long and well-muscled, but instead of furry paws pale, fleshy hands and a naked tail stretched out from beneath layers of shredded black fabric. At the end of its long neck sat a white mask bearing Eames's face. It was undersized and almost comical, but it reminded Eames too much of finding his face on the wall of Robert's safe, and it shot a chill into his bones.
"Okay Eames, you win," said Arthur. "Now will you repress it?"
Eames's brow furrowed. "He's not mine anymore."
The beast charged, and Eames thrust Arthur out of the way. A shotgun blast sheared half the mask off but it kept coming, and in such close quarters Eames could only think of one thing to do.
***
Arthur's back struck the rooftop cooling system, and a moment later he felt the shotgun clatter against his foot. He snatched the weapon up but when he turned he wasn't certain what he was witnessing let alone what he ought to shoot at. Ariadne was leaping out of the way of a whirlwind of white and black fur, two bodies rolling and grappling precariously close to the edge of the building. The beast's long limbs twisted at unnatural angles, digging its skeletal fingers into the tender joints of its attacker. But they were no match for claws and teeth, and with a crunch the wraithlike creature sank into little more than a curtain, leaving only a proud white tiger poised over its kill.
Arthur leveled the shotgun, but hesitated, and then Ariadne was at his arm. "Wait," she said quickly. "Wait, look." She pointed out the tiger's torn and bloody ear.
Arthur lowered his arm. "You're not serious."
Eames shook himself and, seemingly content to remain as he was, watched the pair with narrow scrutiny. His tail waved slowly back and forth.
Ariadne gulped. "Did you know he could--"
"No." Arthur shook his head, hating the way Eames's tiger face looked so damn smug. "Damn it."
Ariadne slipped her arm around his, and he passed the shotgun to his left so he could grip her hand. "So what do we do now?" she asked.
Arthur looked past Eames, past the ragged pinwheel that continued to churn against the building. He felt as if his brain was turning just as slowly around his skull, unending and inescapable. The tiger was still watching him, its claws clinking against the roof. "I guess we go there," he muttered, pointing out the looming fortress. "And hope we find Fischer."
Eames shook himself, shedding his fur and tail and whiskers. "There's a good man," he said, pushing to his feet. He gave his jaw a rub. "I knew you'd do the right thing, Arthur." He moved along the edge of the roof in search of a building close enough for them to cross.
Arthur sighed, but Ariadne's hand around his kept him focused, and reluctantly he followed.
To Chapter 16
