A Series Of Souls.
Title: A Series of Souls
Rating: R (for part three)
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Disclaimer: Not mine! The characters belong to Nolan, and I'm just playing with his toys. I'll put them back where I found them until next year. :)
Spoilers/Warnings: Written for the Ariadne/Arthur fest on Tumblr, with a presence over at LJ and also on AO3. Based on the this tumblr post regarding soul mates. Violence and death in part three, more or less on par with canon, even though this is an AU.
Summary: People stopped aging at age eighteen until they met their soul mate. At that time, they grew old together. For most people, this was accepted and a normal part of living. For some, this was the worst case scenario.
Souls were fractured things, pieces of a whole that were scattered across the globe. They took up residence in humans, and it was a known truth that souls could only age and grow when all of its component pieces were together. Only a whole soul would be able to grow and move beyond the mortal realm. Soul mates weren't always romantic pairs; platonic, antagonistic and familial relationships could also form the bond. It was important to find the other half of a soul. Some souls seemed to wither or grow diseased if left fractured for too long.
One
Ariadne and Arthur knew they were soul mates. As much as their families thought they were too young to be talking about soul mates with certainty, they were absolutely convinced that they knew exactly what they were talking about. How could they not be soul mates? They were whip smart and loved the work that they did. Their kisses and touches unerringly brought them to the height of passion. Their talks lasted for hours, and they still constantly found new things to talk about. There were no boring days between them, nothing that they didn't look forward to sharing with each other.
Wasn't that the very definition of a soul mate?
They moved in together at age eighteen, right out of high school. It was like being two halves of a whole, as Mal and Dom liked to say; Dom was Arthur's friend from school, and Mal was his soul mate. There were already conspicuous age lines around both of their eyes. The crows' feet were identical matches on their faces when Ariadne compared them in pictures she put into their photo album.
Lovingly putting in a new set of photos into this year's album, Ariadne smiled and let her fingers rest on Arthur's face. She remembered this photo, taken at the pier one sunny day a few weeks ago. Mal had held the camera at an artistic angle, making smooching faces at them and telling them to smile and be silly. Arthur thought it was a stupid idea, but Ariadne had made him do it. Mal had taken pictures of the resultant laughter, not the funny faces. Suddenly, Ariadne noticed something about Arthur's face in the photo.
It was as unlined as the day she had met him.
She must have screamed, because Arthur came running in from the laundry room. All she could do was point to the photo, screaming "Eyes!" until she was hoarse. Arthur held her and rocked her gently until she was calm enough to speak.
"We haven't aged a day, Arthur. You look the same as when I first met you. You haven't aged at all. I haven't aged!"
They weren't soul mates. They weren't what they thought they were.
"I still love you," Arthur said quietly, rocking her and pressing his lips to her temple. "You're the other half of my soul, no matter what that picture seems to prove. Now it just means that we'll be together forever, just like we promised."
But they weren't soul mates. Someone else out there would complete Arthur, and she would eventually be replaced. Someone out there was supposed to be her true other half, and what would happen to her feelings for Arthur? How could she lose him? How could he even think that she would allow their idyll to change?
Ariadne didn't know what that really meant, what she would be capable of in order to keep him in her life. There were tales, of course, where soul mates hunted each other, refusing to make the bond and complete themselves. There were stories of people deliberately avoiding their soul mates. Some people thought they could live forever, and that was condemned by most people in the world. Even if someone had that thought, people were supposed to find their soul mates. They were supposed to be happy, grow old together, die and make room for the next generation to find their way. If Arthur wasn't her soul mate, what was she going to do? She'd never planned to live forever, never thought she wouldn't grow old with him and die in his arms.
She didn't know what to do, how to feel, what to expect. Nothing in her life up until now had ever prepared her for this, and it was terrifying.
The pictures still haunted her.
Two
"Move it, loser," Ariadne taunted, running ahead of Arthur. She was tiny and he was such a tall, lanky thing, but she was faster on her feet as they jogged through the park.
"You know the shortcuts!" Arthur complained, coming closer as she took a break under the big weeping willow tree. "It's like you built the frigging park or something!"
She snorted, but was inordinately pleased with herself. One day, she would be able to design parks like this. There was getting through school first, and all the stupid hoops that she had to jump through after she got her architecture degree, but it was something she loved to do. Arthur was stuck in one dead end office job after another, but he hated admitting defeat and going back to school or moving back in with his parents. It was the reason why he had opted to move into her duplex, after all. Splitting the bills down the middle had helped them both financially, and he had his own entrance to the apartment so she didn't have to see the skanky girls he brought home for his booty calls. I'm waiting for someone special, he would tell her whenever she rolled her eyes at his antics. But in the meantime, I can still have fun.
Leaning against the tree, she took a swig of water and offered the bottle to Arthur once she was done. "Should I take it easy on you on the way home?"
"There's something very, very wrong on so many levels with that statement," he huffed, but his grin was in place so she knew he wasn't that upset. He rarely was, and could be relied upon to catch even her obscure jokes, given that their senses of humor were pretty similar.
They wound up walking home, going into the house through the back garden and talking about the upcoming weekend. Arthur wanted her to come with him to the movies, she wanted to stay home and work on her model for school.
"Suuuuure," he drawled, drawing out the vowel sound and wagging his eyes in a mocking manner. "Your model. So how built is he? Or is it a she this time?"
Ariadne laughed and smacked his arm. "Idiot. Want a salad for dinner and lose that paunch you're getting from sitting on your lazy ass and snacking all damn day?" she asked, poking him in the gut playfully.
He swatted her hand away. "You're just afraid of dating. C'mon, how hard is it to meet someone and talk to them about stupid day to day crap?"
"Not hard at all," she replied easily, moving to the fridge. "But why bother? I'm busy. And if I'm that hard up for conversation, I can lower my standards and talk to you."
Arthur snorted and tossed the empty water bottle at her as she laughed. She got out the fixings and set about to make dinner while he took the first shower. As she headed upstairs to her part of the duplex, she passed Arthur heading into the kitchen to finish setting the table. "Oh my god, Arthur, you have a gray hair!" she chortled.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, confused. "I didn't think it was that bright in here..."
"No way, light shining off of your hair doesn't look gray. Are you going prematurely gray? Have you been dyeing your hair all this time, you loser?"
He touched his head self consciously. "What are you talking about? Of course I don't dye it."
She bounded to his side gleefully and then gestured for him to stoop down. When he did, she teased out the gray hair she had noticed and plucked it from his scalp. She ignored it when Arthur winced, holding it out triumphantly. "Take a look at that, then. Just like the gray hairs my mom has."
They both seemed to realize what that meant at the same time. "That's a real gray hair," she said, looking at him dumbly. "That means..."
"I'm aging. And you must be, too."
The only consistent person in each others' lives were each other. There was no one else who could possibly be their soul mate.
Ariadne recovered first, handing him the gray hair. "There are worse things in the world, I'm sure," she said, smiling.
"There are?" he asked dubiously, taking the gray hair to inspect.
"Yeah." She linked her arm through his and rested her head against his shoulder gently. "Like going through my whole life never knowing you. I could live without your horrible taste in girls, though. As your official soul mate, you are now required to have all your potential dates screened through me."
"Oh, come on, now..."
"I'll weed out the losers. Only the best for my soul mate. Deal?"
Arthur pulled her into a tight hug, sweeping her in a wide circle and off of her feet. "Deal. You're still my best friend, Ariadne. That's never going to change."
Ariadne gave him a grateful smile, returning his hug. His presence in her life was steady, a comfort she didn't want to lose. They knew everything about each other, were comfortable around each other, teased each other about their foibles. In retrospect, it seemed obvious. Of course they were soul mates. Of course they were meant to be together.
"And I'll have to pick out your boyfriends or girlfriends, got it? If I can't have horrible dates, neither can you."
She laughed and nodded. "I can live with that. Now set the table while I shower and we'll have dinner and figure out who you're fixing me up with."
Three
Arthur was been the head of PASIV, Inc. for the past five hundred years. He was callous and hard edged, and interested in getting the job done. He was a stickler for details, with meticulous plans and plans within plans his employees had to follow. There were times where improvisation were called for, but for the most part, he preferred having everything lined up and clearly defined. He wasn't a big believer in surprises.
Some of the romantics in the mail room said that he had lost his soul mate centuries ago, and that was what led him to climb the corporate ladder at PASIV and rule it with an iron fist. He missed her, they said, and constantly looked for her so they could be reunited.
The cynics in the mail room said that he wanted to avoid her and live forever. Those in middle management knew better than to gossip, and shut the hell up whenever the topic came around to be discussed.
New to PASIV, Ariadne went through orientation and got accustomed to her new office mates and duties. She was on the Building Floor, where the dreams PASIV constructed would be put together from the inside out, then taken to the Analysis Floor, on to the Distribution Floor before sent out to Reenactment Centers all across the world. She was proud of being part of such a sprawling enterprise. Dreams were tightly regulated now, custom built and able to help the masses get through the awful monotony of the night.
Ariadne didn't even see the reclusive CEO until the holiday party a few months after she was hired on. She had done amazing work according to her supervisors, and was looking forward to a positive evaluation and possible raise, so this was her chance to kick back a little with her suitemate Yusuf. She'd made an extra effort to appear polished and groomed, and was looking pretty awesome even if she said so herself. She had dressed with just the right level of formality for the occasion, her hair curled just so, her makeup impeccable, her stockings without runs. She'd stopped to grab a plate full of canapés while Yusuf was off somewhere talking with another of their coworkers, then she felt a sudden chill roll down her spine. Turning cautiously, she found Arthur staring at her intently, almost with a physical force behind his gaze. Ariadne hadn't felt alone until right that moment, and the sensation clutched at her throat in constricting panic.
Arthur's eyes bored into her skull, and she felt fear accompany that chill. "Is everything all right?" he asked, but there was no caring in that tone.
those dark eyes holding her down under the water face wavering as it moved as she thrashed around and tried to get air but no he wouldn't let her up wouldn't let her breathe her lungs were on fire and oh my god why was this happening she just started yesterday-
A deep breath, but it seemed to burn in her chest-
the knife between her ribs twisted and caught on bone and it hurt so much and the blood was everywhere that was why there was tile in this office to catch the blood and make it easier to clean but he wouldn't say why he was doing this other than living forever was worth the pain it would cause them both-
-and her side hurt, and then-
her insides spilled over into her outsides as she fell to her knees while the silver flash of the knife caught her gaze and he didn't answer why he was doing this and why he seemed to hate her so much and why was he so satisfied looking when she had never even seen him before in her life why did he hate her-
-her abdomen hurt, like a stabbing cramp, and Ariadne backed away from the table, her plate of canapés falling from her hand to fall on the floor. "I'm not feeling well," she mumbled.
He didn't believe her, but memories fluttered in the back of her mind and her body reacted as they streamed through her, years peeling back. The same face stared back at her, never masked, never remorseful, never looking as though it mattered what she went through. Stabbed, shot, strangled, drowned, thrown off the roof... He kept killing her, over and over and over, not always on PASIV grounds, sometimes wherever she happened to live in that lifetime, sometimes in areas he happened to corner her in.
She was going to die. He was going to make sure of it.
Terror seized her, and Ariadne found herself unable to turn and run. She had to know if he was coming for her. He wouldn't kill her in a public place, would he? Would he?
Stumbling into Yusuf, she clung to him and babbled something about wanting to get home. But surely Arthur would know where she lived. He was nearly six hundred years old, if not even older than that. He had countless years to refine his technique, endless resources at his disposal to kill her if he so chose. And he kept finding her, reincarnation after reincarnation, and her stupid self was still drawn to him, over and over and over, a moth to the flame, as if seeking her own destruction was the only fate she could ever have.
"You enjoy the party," Arthur was telling Yusuf, smiling smoothly. "I've been to this kind of shindig thousands of times," he said, reaching for Ariadne. "I can take her home."
Ariadne shrank back from his touch, shaking her head. And just shaking. Was she even babbling an appropriate excuse? She didn't even know.
"You must be coming down with something," Yusuf said, patting her arm fondly. "It's going to be all right once you get a good night's sleep."
Good night's sleep? When Arthur had been killing her for centuries? But she couldn't say that out loud, it sounded crazy, even crazier than the soul mate thing, and how could she accuse the CEO of murder? No one would ever believe her.
Somehow Arthur got Yusuf to bow out gracefully, heading directly to the bar to get drunk on too much champagne. Even if it was high end stuff, shouldn't he have realized she was freaked out at the thought of leaving anywhere with Arthur? His grip on her arm was tight, and she wasn't even able to peel his fingers off of her arm. "Let go of me," she hissed, trying to yank herself away from him. This wasn't what she wanted when she came to work at PASIV. She had just wanted to build dreams, to create entire worlds...
"Don't make a scene," he replied coldly. "I've got you."
That wasn't comforting at all.
Arthur dragged her down the hall from the party, jaw set and eyes flinty as she stumbled along the way behind him. When Ariadne turned around to look behind her, she saw one of his guards blocking the exit from the ballroom. He was tall, powerfully built, with blond hair and blue eyes, an air of cleverness around him. His hand was over his sidearm, and there was no softening of his gaze when he took in her distress.
Of course they knew about him. How else could they have gotten away with it?
She was in tears when he slammed her up against the wall. "I'll just go away," she promised, hiccupping. "Please, I just want to build. The pure creation..."
Something softened in his eyes, and she had a moment's flare of hope inside her chest. "I know," he said softly, caressing her cheek gently. "It's always been that way. But you never stay away, Ariadne. You don't have it in you. It's not in your nature to leave something alone once you get your hooks into it. You don't leave a stone unturned, a mystery unsolved, another half of your soul unclaimed."
His hands closed around her throat, and she looked at him in desperation. "Please, Arthur. Please. Don't do this. Please don't," she begged, holding onto his wrists. She couldn't pull him away, and her panic burned bright and hot in her chest. "I just want to live..."
"And so do I. I won't die for you, Ariadne. Not now, not ever."
Her vision swam and her breath burned in her chest as his hands tightened around her throat, his pitiless gaze on her the entire time. Ariadne kicked out and flailed, wishing she was stronger, that she had paid attention in those awful self-defense courses her mother had made her take in junior high that she had laughed off. The world was safe, she had said. Who would want to hurt her? That made no sense.
The world was descending into a blur, her vision tunneling as she gasped to breathe, when the sharp report of a gun went off, and suddenly Arthur's hands slipped from her neck. Ariadne tumbled down to the floor, breath rushing painfully back into her lungs. Arthur had whipped around, incensed, glaring at the blond guard. "You'll regret this," Arthur snarled, staggering forward toward him.
"You first," the guard replied smoothly with a British accent.
Three more bullets to the chest, and Arthur crumpled, a pool of blood widening around him. The guard approached, a grim look to his face, and then shot Arthur in the center of his forehead when he twitched and reached out to grasp the guard's ankle.
Ariadne backed away from them both, arms in front of her in a warding posture. The guard's eyes softened when he took in her pose, and he put up the gun. "Hey, poppet. I got here in time," he said gently. "I saved you."
"Wh-what?"
He smiled then, eyes crinkling in the corners. "He's been doing this for hundreds of years, the tosser. Didn't recognize me, no matter how long I've worked for him, but he was always a step ahead of me." He approached slowly, telegraphing every move so that Ariadne clearly knew what his intentions were. Extending a hand, he waited patiently until she grasped it so he could help her to her feet. "But this time, I knew who you were before he did. So I could hang about until he made his move." Fishing out a handkerchief from his pocket, he gently tied it around her throat. "We'll just say you have a chill, eh? Nice dress, by the way."
Feeling a little silly, Ariadne nodded and flashed him a wan smile. "Thank you. I'm Ariadne."
The guard smiled a little wider once she held out her hand for him to shake. "I'm Eames. Glad to finally meet you."
"So... Um... Arthur..."
"I'll take care of this mess. You go back to the party. Get roaring drunk. I'll find you tomorrow, explain how I got involved in all this mess."
"Can I get the short version now?" she rasped, voice still raw.
Eames sighed, then nodded. "The first Ariadne was my sister. PASIV was her dream, her idea, way back in the beginning. But Arthur knew the markets, had the contacts. He sold it as his idea, and he didn't want to let it go. He wanted to live forever. Scared to death of dying. The only way to live forever-"
"-was to get rid of me," she whispered.
Nodding, he gave her a tight hug and patted her head. "Go on now, Ariadne," Eames said softly. "I'll take care of everything. This time, you get to live."
On impulse, she stood on tip toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Full story tomorrow. And then you train me to take care of myself. He'll be reborn sooner or later, and when he comes back, he'll be pissed."
The words made him laugh and hug her again. "Just like the first Ariadne," he said fondly. "All right," Eames agreed. "Tomorrow."
The future was going to be different now, Ariadne could feel it. She wasn't going to be the vulnerable prey any longer. This time, she was the one that would come out on top.
The End
Rating: R (for part three)
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Disclaimer: Not mine! The characters belong to Nolan, and I'm just playing with his toys. I'll put them back where I found them until next year. :)
Spoilers/Warnings: Written for the Ariadne/Arthur fest on Tumblr, with a presence over at LJ and also on AO3. Based on the this tumblr post regarding soul mates. Violence and death in part three, more or less on par with canon, even though this is an AU.
Summary: People stopped aging at age eighteen until they met their soul mate. At that time, they grew old together. For most people, this was accepted and a normal part of living. For some, this was the worst case scenario.
Souls were fractured things, pieces of a whole that were scattered across the globe. They took up residence in humans, and it was a known truth that souls could only age and grow when all of its component pieces were together. Only a whole soul would be able to grow and move beyond the mortal realm. Soul mates weren't always romantic pairs; platonic, antagonistic and familial relationships could also form the bond. It was important to find the other half of a soul. Some souls seemed to wither or grow diseased if left fractured for too long.
One
Ariadne and Arthur knew they were soul mates. As much as their families thought they were too young to be talking about soul mates with certainty, they were absolutely convinced that they knew exactly what they were talking about. How could they not be soul mates? They were whip smart and loved the work that they did. Their kisses and touches unerringly brought them to the height of passion. Their talks lasted for hours, and they still constantly found new things to talk about. There were no boring days between them, nothing that they didn't look forward to sharing with each other.
Wasn't that the very definition of a soul mate?
They moved in together at age eighteen, right out of high school. It was like being two halves of a whole, as Mal and Dom liked to say; Dom was Arthur's friend from school, and Mal was his soul mate. There were already conspicuous age lines around both of their eyes. The crows' feet were identical matches on their faces when Ariadne compared them in pictures she put into their photo album.
Lovingly putting in a new set of photos into this year's album, Ariadne smiled and let her fingers rest on Arthur's face. She remembered this photo, taken at the pier one sunny day a few weeks ago. Mal had held the camera at an artistic angle, making smooching faces at them and telling them to smile and be silly. Arthur thought it was a stupid idea, but Ariadne had made him do it. Mal had taken pictures of the resultant laughter, not the funny faces. Suddenly, Ariadne noticed something about Arthur's face in the photo.
It was as unlined as the day she had met him.
She must have screamed, because Arthur came running in from the laundry room. All she could do was point to the photo, screaming "Eyes!" until she was hoarse. Arthur held her and rocked her gently until she was calm enough to speak.
"We haven't aged a day, Arthur. You look the same as when I first met you. You haven't aged at all. I haven't aged!"
They weren't soul mates. They weren't what they thought they were.
"I still love you," Arthur said quietly, rocking her and pressing his lips to her temple. "You're the other half of my soul, no matter what that picture seems to prove. Now it just means that we'll be together forever, just like we promised."
But they weren't soul mates. Someone else out there would complete Arthur, and she would eventually be replaced. Someone out there was supposed to be her true other half, and what would happen to her feelings for Arthur? How could she lose him? How could he even think that she would allow their idyll to change?
Ariadne didn't know what that really meant, what she would be capable of in order to keep him in her life. There were tales, of course, where soul mates hunted each other, refusing to make the bond and complete themselves. There were stories of people deliberately avoiding their soul mates. Some people thought they could live forever, and that was condemned by most people in the world. Even if someone had that thought, people were supposed to find their soul mates. They were supposed to be happy, grow old together, die and make room for the next generation to find their way. If Arthur wasn't her soul mate, what was she going to do? She'd never planned to live forever, never thought she wouldn't grow old with him and die in his arms.
She didn't know what to do, how to feel, what to expect. Nothing in her life up until now had ever prepared her for this, and it was terrifying.
The pictures still haunted her.
Two
"Move it, loser," Ariadne taunted, running ahead of Arthur. She was tiny and he was such a tall, lanky thing, but she was faster on her feet as they jogged through the park.
"You know the shortcuts!" Arthur complained, coming closer as she took a break under the big weeping willow tree. "It's like you built the frigging park or something!"
She snorted, but was inordinately pleased with herself. One day, she would be able to design parks like this. There was getting through school first, and all the stupid hoops that she had to jump through after she got her architecture degree, but it was something she loved to do. Arthur was stuck in one dead end office job after another, but he hated admitting defeat and going back to school or moving back in with his parents. It was the reason why he had opted to move into her duplex, after all. Splitting the bills down the middle had helped them both financially, and he had his own entrance to the apartment so she didn't have to see the skanky girls he brought home for his booty calls. I'm waiting for someone special, he would tell her whenever she rolled her eyes at his antics. But in the meantime, I can still have fun.
Leaning against the tree, she took a swig of water and offered the bottle to Arthur once she was done. "Should I take it easy on you on the way home?"
"There's something very, very wrong on so many levels with that statement," he huffed, but his grin was in place so she knew he wasn't that upset. He rarely was, and could be relied upon to catch even her obscure jokes, given that their senses of humor were pretty similar.
They wound up walking home, going into the house through the back garden and talking about the upcoming weekend. Arthur wanted her to come with him to the movies, she wanted to stay home and work on her model for school.
"Suuuuure," he drawled, drawing out the vowel sound and wagging his eyes in a mocking manner. "Your model. So how built is he? Or is it a she this time?"
Ariadne laughed and smacked his arm. "Idiot. Want a salad for dinner and lose that paunch you're getting from sitting on your lazy ass and snacking all damn day?" she asked, poking him in the gut playfully.
He swatted her hand away. "You're just afraid of dating. C'mon, how hard is it to meet someone and talk to them about stupid day to day crap?"
"Not hard at all," she replied easily, moving to the fridge. "But why bother? I'm busy. And if I'm that hard up for conversation, I can lower my standards and talk to you."
Arthur snorted and tossed the empty water bottle at her as she laughed. She got out the fixings and set about to make dinner while he took the first shower. As she headed upstairs to her part of the duplex, she passed Arthur heading into the kitchen to finish setting the table. "Oh my god, Arthur, you have a gray hair!" she chortled.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, confused. "I didn't think it was that bright in here..."
"No way, light shining off of your hair doesn't look gray. Are you going prematurely gray? Have you been dyeing your hair all this time, you loser?"
He touched his head self consciously. "What are you talking about? Of course I don't dye it."
She bounded to his side gleefully and then gestured for him to stoop down. When he did, she teased out the gray hair she had noticed and plucked it from his scalp. She ignored it when Arthur winced, holding it out triumphantly. "Take a look at that, then. Just like the gray hairs my mom has."
They both seemed to realize what that meant at the same time. "That's a real gray hair," she said, looking at him dumbly. "That means..."
"I'm aging. And you must be, too."
The only consistent person in each others' lives were each other. There was no one else who could possibly be their soul mate.
Ariadne recovered first, handing him the gray hair. "There are worse things in the world, I'm sure," she said, smiling.
"There are?" he asked dubiously, taking the gray hair to inspect.
"Yeah." She linked her arm through his and rested her head against his shoulder gently. "Like going through my whole life never knowing you. I could live without your horrible taste in girls, though. As your official soul mate, you are now required to have all your potential dates screened through me."
"Oh, come on, now..."
"I'll weed out the losers. Only the best for my soul mate. Deal?"
Arthur pulled her into a tight hug, sweeping her in a wide circle and off of her feet. "Deal. You're still my best friend, Ariadne. That's never going to change."
Ariadne gave him a grateful smile, returning his hug. His presence in her life was steady, a comfort she didn't want to lose. They knew everything about each other, were comfortable around each other, teased each other about their foibles. In retrospect, it seemed obvious. Of course they were soul mates. Of course they were meant to be together.
"And I'll have to pick out your boyfriends or girlfriends, got it? If I can't have horrible dates, neither can you."
She laughed and nodded. "I can live with that. Now set the table while I shower and we'll have dinner and figure out who you're fixing me up with."
Three
Arthur was been the head of PASIV, Inc. for the past five hundred years. He was callous and hard edged, and interested in getting the job done. He was a stickler for details, with meticulous plans and plans within plans his employees had to follow. There were times where improvisation were called for, but for the most part, he preferred having everything lined up and clearly defined. He wasn't a big believer in surprises.
Some of the romantics in the mail room said that he had lost his soul mate centuries ago, and that was what led him to climb the corporate ladder at PASIV and rule it with an iron fist. He missed her, they said, and constantly looked for her so they could be reunited.
The cynics in the mail room said that he wanted to avoid her and live forever. Those in middle management knew better than to gossip, and shut the hell up whenever the topic came around to be discussed.
New to PASIV, Ariadne went through orientation and got accustomed to her new office mates and duties. She was on the Building Floor, where the dreams PASIV constructed would be put together from the inside out, then taken to the Analysis Floor, on to the Distribution Floor before sent out to Reenactment Centers all across the world. She was proud of being part of such a sprawling enterprise. Dreams were tightly regulated now, custom built and able to help the masses get through the awful monotony of the night.
Ariadne didn't even see the reclusive CEO until the holiday party a few months after she was hired on. She had done amazing work according to her supervisors, and was looking forward to a positive evaluation and possible raise, so this was her chance to kick back a little with her suitemate Yusuf. She'd made an extra effort to appear polished and groomed, and was looking pretty awesome even if she said so herself. She had dressed with just the right level of formality for the occasion, her hair curled just so, her makeup impeccable, her stockings without runs. She'd stopped to grab a plate full of canapés while Yusuf was off somewhere talking with another of their coworkers, then she felt a sudden chill roll down her spine. Turning cautiously, she found Arthur staring at her intently, almost with a physical force behind his gaze. Ariadne hadn't felt alone until right that moment, and the sensation clutched at her throat in constricting panic.
Arthur's eyes bored into her skull, and she felt fear accompany that chill. "Is everything all right?" he asked, but there was no caring in that tone.
those dark eyes holding her down under the water face wavering as it moved as she thrashed around and tried to get air but no he wouldn't let her up wouldn't let her breathe her lungs were on fire and oh my god why was this happening she just started yesterday-
A deep breath, but it seemed to burn in her chest-
the knife between her ribs twisted and caught on bone and it hurt so much and the blood was everywhere that was why there was tile in this office to catch the blood and make it easier to clean but he wouldn't say why he was doing this other than living forever was worth the pain it would cause them both-
-and her side hurt, and then-
her insides spilled over into her outsides as she fell to her knees while the silver flash of the knife caught her gaze and he didn't answer why he was doing this and why he seemed to hate her so much and why was he so satisfied looking when she had never even seen him before in her life why did he hate her-
-her abdomen hurt, like a stabbing cramp, and Ariadne backed away from the table, her plate of canapés falling from her hand to fall on the floor. "I'm not feeling well," she mumbled.
He didn't believe her, but memories fluttered in the back of her mind and her body reacted as they streamed through her, years peeling back. The same face stared back at her, never masked, never remorseful, never looking as though it mattered what she went through. Stabbed, shot, strangled, drowned, thrown off the roof... He kept killing her, over and over and over, not always on PASIV grounds, sometimes wherever she happened to live in that lifetime, sometimes in areas he happened to corner her in.
She was going to die. He was going to make sure of it.
Terror seized her, and Ariadne found herself unable to turn and run. She had to know if he was coming for her. He wouldn't kill her in a public place, would he? Would he?
Stumbling into Yusuf, she clung to him and babbled something about wanting to get home. But surely Arthur would know where she lived. He was nearly six hundred years old, if not even older than that. He had countless years to refine his technique, endless resources at his disposal to kill her if he so chose. And he kept finding her, reincarnation after reincarnation, and her stupid self was still drawn to him, over and over and over, a moth to the flame, as if seeking her own destruction was the only fate she could ever have.
"You enjoy the party," Arthur was telling Yusuf, smiling smoothly. "I've been to this kind of shindig thousands of times," he said, reaching for Ariadne. "I can take her home."
Ariadne shrank back from his touch, shaking her head. And just shaking. Was she even babbling an appropriate excuse? She didn't even know.
"You must be coming down with something," Yusuf said, patting her arm fondly. "It's going to be all right once you get a good night's sleep."
Good night's sleep? When Arthur had been killing her for centuries? But she couldn't say that out loud, it sounded crazy, even crazier than the soul mate thing, and how could she accuse the CEO of murder? No one would ever believe her.
Somehow Arthur got Yusuf to bow out gracefully, heading directly to the bar to get drunk on too much champagne. Even if it was high end stuff, shouldn't he have realized she was freaked out at the thought of leaving anywhere with Arthur? His grip on her arm was tight, and she wasn't even able to peel his fingers off of her arm. "Let go of me," she hissed, trying to yank herself away from him. This wasn't what she wanted when she came to work at PASIV. She had just wanted to build dreams, to create entire worlds...
"Don't make a scene," he replied coldly. "I've got you."
That wasn't comforting at all.
Arthur dragged her down the hall from the party, jaw set and eyes flinty as she stumbled along the way behind him. When Ariadne turned around to look behind her, she saw one of his guards blocking the exit from the ballroom. He was tall, powerfully built, with blond hair and blue eyes, an air of cleverness around him. His hand was over his sidearm, and there was no softening of his gaze when he took in her distress.
Of course they knew about him. How else could they have gotten away with it?
She was in tears when he slammed her up against the wall. "I'll just go away," she promised, hiccupping. "Please, I just want to build. The pure creation..."
Something softened in his eyes, and she had a moment's flare of hope inside her chest. "I know," he said softly, caressing her cheek gently. "It's always been that way. But you never stay away, Ariadne. You don't have it in you. It's not in your nature to leave something alone once you get your hooks into it. You don't leave a stone unturned, a mystery unsolved, another half of your soul unclaimed."
His hands closed around her throat, and she looked at him in desperation. "Please, Arthur. Please. Don't do this. Please don't," she begged, holding onto his wrists. She couldn't pull him away, and her panic burned bright and hot in her chest. "I just want to live..."
"And so do I. I won't die for you, Ariadne. Not now, not ever."
Her vision swam and her breath burned in her chest as his hands tightened around her throat, his pitiless gaze on her the entire time. Ariadne kicked out and flailed, wishing she was stronger, that she had paid attention in those awful self-defense courses her mother had made her take in junior high that she had laughed off. The world was safe, she had said. Who would want to hurt her? That made no sense.
The world was descending into a blur, her vision tunneling as she gasped to breathe, when the sharp report of a gun went off, and suddenly Arthur's hands slipped from her neck. Ariadne tumbled down to the floor, breath rushing painfully back into her lungs. Arthur had whipped around, incensed, glaring at the blond guard. "You'll regret this," Arthur snarled, staggering forward toward him.
"You first," the guard replied smoothly with a British accent.
Three more bullets to the chest, and Arthur crumpled, a pool of blood widening around him. The guard approached, a grim look to his face, and then shot Arthur in the center of his forehead when he twitched and reached out to grasp the guard's ankle.
Ariadne backed away from them both, arms in front of her in a warding posture. The guard's eyes softened when he took in her pose, and he put up the gun. "Hey, poppet. I got here in time," he said gently. "I saved you."
"Wh-what?"
He smiled then, eyes crinkling in the corners. "He's been doing this for hundreds of years, the tosser. Didn't recognize me, no matter how long I've worked for him, but he was always a step ahead of me." He approached slowly, telegraphing every move so that Ariadne clearly knew what his intentions were. Extending a hand, he waited patiently until she grasped it so he could help her to her feet. "But this time, I knew who you were before he did. So I could hang about until he made his move." Fishing out a handkerchief from his pocket, he gently tied it around her throat. "We'll just say you have a chill, eh? Nice dress, by the way."
Feeling a little silly, Ariadne nodded and flashed him a wan smile. "Thank you. I'm Ariadne."
The guard smiled a little wider once she held out her hand for him to shake. "I'm Eames. Glad to finally meet you."
"So... Um... Arthur..."
"I'll take care of this mess. You go back to the party. Get roaring drunk. I'll find you tomorrow, explain how I got involved in all this mess."
"Can I get the short version now?" she rasped, voice still raw.
Eames sighed, then nodded. "The first Ariadne was my sister. PASIV was her dream, her idea, way back in the beginning. But Arthur knew the markets, had the contacts. He sold it as his idea, and he didn't want to let it go. He wanted to live forever. Scared to death of dying. The only way to live forever-"
"-was to get rid of me," she whispered.
Nodding, he gave her a tight hug and patted her head. "Go on now, Ariadne," Eames said softly. "I'll take care of everything. This time, you get to live."
On impulse, she stood on tip toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Full story tomorrow. And then you train me to take care of myself. He'll be reborn sooner or later, and when he comes back, he'll be pissed."
The words made him laugh and hug her again. "Just like the first Ariadne," he said fondly. "All right," Eames agreed. "Tomorrow."
The future was going to be different now, Ariadne could feel it. She wasn't going to be the vulnerable prey any longer. This time, she was the one that would come out on top.
The End