inception fic; the tangent of denial [arthur/ariadne]
inception fic;
the tangent of denial [arthur/ariadne]
prompt: ariadne and arthur's version of cobb and mal's story
Ariadne wants to see him again, but she is well aware of how destructive it could be, both to herself and to the people that she cares about.
Sometimes when she picks up the kitchen knife, the cold slice of pain Mal had dealt her still pierces through her wakeful consciousness, much as she knows it was just a dream. Never happened. But she felt it acutely. Still feels it. The chilling fear that ripped through her. So what if it was just a dream? It happened.
Arthur knew. He always knew. He would smile at her reassuringly, relieve her of cooking duty, and coax a glass of red wine into her hand.
He made the best shepherd's pie, his immaculate vest and dress shirt under the apron.
"Mal. Mal’s not like that. She was lovely, smart, accomplished. Had a good heart." Arthur told her once.
"So why is Cobb's projection of her so...?"
Arthur's mouth pressed into a firm thin line, and he asked her if she would like to visit a independent art exhibition tucked away in a cozy corner of Paris.
She tells herself it's not worth it. She quietly steels her subconscious as best as she can. No projections. Cobb ensures that she has no access to any of the machines. She knows it's for the best.
She takes over Arthur’s job on top of her own. Cobb and Eames help when they can.
On the first job after Arthur died, Cobb stays with Ariadne every step of the way. He doesn't bother to be subtle about it. Ariadne lets him. Arthur, or rather his projection, doesn't show up. She goes back to their apartment and falls asleep on his side of the bed. She doesn't cry.
On the second job, the target becomes aware of the extraction an hour in and the projections turn on them. It doesn't help that the guy play a lot of futuristic video games and his security projections come swooping in with G.I. Joe suits.
An explosion in the middle of the road forces her and Cobb in different directions and she runs into a warehouse that she has designed to be an auxiliary hideout. Except it isn't a warehouse. It's their apartment. Arthur's making shepherd's pie. The smell overwhelms her and for a moment, she forgets how she got there.
Gunfire pelts in from behind her and she feels a sharp burn in her side. She sees the raw seething anger on Arthur's face and his gun aimed at the projections behind her. The white tiles rushes upwards at her.
Eames manages to extract the information and the job is successful. Ariadne lies when Cobb question her, claims fatigue and takes off. She goes back to their apartment and lies on his side of the bed. She doesn't sleep.
The third and fourth time, Cobb doesn't leave her alone. Arthur doesn't appear. Ariadne starts to see the pattern.
The fifth time, she sneaks away before she changes her mind, walking swiftly through cobbled streets, eyes seeking. She finds him in an outdoors cafe, scribbling something on his notebook. He smiles when he sees her. She crashes into him and breathes out his name as he takes her into his arms.
Solid. Warm. Arthur's. Undeniably Arthur. She feels it. She can feel him. Real.
"I miss you." She chokes out, her hands pulls at his clothes, the feel of expensive fabric that she has grown so accustomed to. Real.
"I know." His voice, something she has heard only as ghostly whispers in the middle of the night for the past weeks, now comes as a murmur of warm air sliding gently into her ears. Real.
"Ariadne!" Cobb calls out from across the street, running towards them. "No. Don't do this. Come with me." Eames follows from behind him haltingly, his features an unreadable mask as his eyes dart towards Arthur.
Arthur steps in front of Ariadne, as he had done umpteen times on jobs even as she insisted she could take care of herself, and just like previous times, whips out a gun and deftly shoots them both in the head.
The horror that runs through Ariadne’s body feels real enough.
As the dream starts to crumple around them, Arthur turns to her and places both hands on her cheeks, the gun is gone, but the chill of metal seeps from his skin to hers. He pleads, "Don't leave me." His eyes shines, frantic and mad with desperation. Ariadne has never seen him this way.
When she wakes up, the team leave their target in the private hospital ward and Yusuf drives them back to the hotel. Cobb sits next to Ariadne, but doesn’t say anything, doesn’t reprimand her. Eames ignores her. The ghost of Arthur’s hands lingers on her cheeks. She daren’t move. She might lose that feeling.
There is knock on her hotel door hours later. Eames strides in, throws the machine onto the bed.
"Do it in your own time.” He doesn't offer his trademark smirk, doesn't pepper his words with endearments or sarcasm. He just stands there, looks at Ariadne. She can't hold his gaze so she walks away to find him something to drink.
"Cobb says it’s dangerous."
Eames laughs drily. She hears a soft thump and the crunching of fabric as he falls heavily onto the bed. “You would think Cobb knows what he’s doing, after that whole debacle with Mal. Look where his advice has gotten us.”
"It's not -. That wasn’t Arthur. He won’t - "
"Won't what, love? Kill me and Cobb?" Now he throws himself unceremoniously onto the bed, his hands reaching for a pillow to stuff under his head.
Ariadne bites her lower lip and she fetches a beer from the mini bar. “It's like what Cobb said about Mal. My projection of him would be less than a tenth of what he really is. It won’t be real."
"Don't sell yourself short, sweetheart. You're a much better architect than Cobb was at his age. I think. Wait, don't tell him I said that." He sits up, his smirk sliding back into place. The forger in Eames is slipping back through, the one that puts up a facade of joviality and taunt and tease to hide from the world.
Ariadne sits down beside him, says nothing, in no mood to play his game.
She hears him sigh after a moment, and he says, “It felt real though, didn’t it.” She turns to look at him, but he has thrown his arm over his face.
He continues, "Cobb felt guilty about Mal. That was main reason why his projection of Mal was so aggressive. You, my dear, you feel nothing but love for Arthur. It's little wonder your projection of him is so selfishly possessive and stupidly protective. You want to be with him, no matter the cost. No crime in that."
Ariadne closes her eyes and sees the crazed look in Arthur's eyes as he fired at Cobb and Eames. She shakes her head.
"You think you know a way you can be with the man you love, but you're denying yourself that. Would drive any man crazy, let alone your subconscious projection. Denial is a natural stage of the grief process, but I am quite sure the psychologists don’t mean it like this." Eames continues among more shuffling of fabric as he sits up and opens the case with a familiar metallic click.
Ariadne finally looks him in the eyes.
"You need to see him. Talk to him. Come to terms that this is not a way to be with him." Eames’ eyes darts downwards for the barest of seconds. "You have to slowly let him go."
"You've been through this before," Ariadne says. It isn't a question.
"I can go in with you if you want," Eames doesn’t look away, doesn’t deny it. The forger in him holds her gaze, his smile bordering on a flippant challenge.
Ariadne smiles a little, shakes her head, "I want to be alone with him."
"I’ll take that then.” He takes the beer from her hands. “You better be back before I finish up the entire mini bar. I don’t think Cobb will appreciate the bill.”
--
a/n: it kinda got a little skewed towards eames/ariadne in the middle. but well, what can i say, stories always have a life of their own. and now i have a whole plot bunny about how the one eames lost is arthur as well because he's been ~secretly~ in love with him the whole time. maybe eames' projection of arthur should meet ariadne's projection. or something.
the tangent of denial [arthur/ariadne]
prompt: ariadne and arthur's version of cobb and mal's story
Ariadne wants to see him again, but she is well aware of how destructive it could be, both to herself and to the people that she cares about.
Sometimes when she picks up the kitchen knife, the cold slice of pain Mal had dealt her still pierces through her wakeful consciousness, much as she knows it was just a dream. Never happened. But she felt it acutely. Still feels it. The chilling fear that ripped through her. So what if it was just a dream? It happened.
Arthur knew. He always knew. He would smile at her reassuringly, relieve her of cooking duty, and coax a glass of red wine into her hand.
He made the best shepherd's pie, his immaculate vest and dress shirt under the apron.
"Mal. Mal’s not like that. She was lovely, smart, accomplished. Had a good heart." Arthur told her once.
"So why is Cobb's projection of her so...?"
Arthur's mouth pressed into a firm thin line, and he asked her if she would like to visit a independent art exhibition tucked away in a cozy corner of Paris.
She tells herself it's not worth it. She quietly steels her subconscious as best as she can. No projections. Cobb ensures that she has no access to any of the machines. She knows it's for the best.
She takes over Arthur’s job on top of her own. Cobb and Eames help when they can.
On the first job after Arthur died, Cobb stays with Ariadne every step of the way. He doesn't bother to be subtle about it. Ariadne lets him. Arthur, or rather his projection, doesn't show up. She goes back to their apartment and falls asleep on his side of the bed. She doesn't cry.
On the second job, the target becomes aware of the extraction an hour in and the projections turn on them. It doesn't help that the guy play a lot of futuristic video games and his security projections come swooping in with G.I. Joe suits.
An explosion in the middle of the road forces her and Cobb in different directions and she runs into a warehouse that she has designed to be an auxiliary hideout. Except it isn't a warehouse. It's their apartment. Arthur's making shepherd's pie. The smell overwhelms her and for a moment, she forgets how she got there.
Gunfire pelts in from behind her and she feels a sharp burn in her side. She sees the raw seething anger on Arthur's face and his gun aimed at the projections behind her. The white tiles rushes upwards at her.
Eames manages to extract the information and the job is successful. Ariadne lies when Cobb question her, claims fatigue and takes off. She goes back to their apartment and lies on his side of the bed. She doesn't sleep.
The third and fourth time, Cobb doesn't leave her alone. Arthur doesn't appear. Ariadne starts to see the pattern.
The fifth time, she sneaks away before she changes her mind, walking swiftly through cobbled streets, eyes seeking. She finds him in an outdoors cafe, scribbling something on his notebook. He smiles when he sees her. She crashes into him and breathes out his name as he takes her into his arms.
Solid. Warm. Arthur's. Undeniably Arthur. She feels it. She can feel him. Real.
"I miss you." She chokes out, her hands pulls at his clothes, the feel of expensive fabric that she has grown so accustomed to. Real.
"I know." His voice, something she has heard only as ghostly whispers in the middle of the night for the past weeks, now comes as a murmur of warm air sliding gently into her ears. Real.
"Ariadne!" Cobb calls out from across the street, running towards them. "No. Don't do this. Come with me." Eames follows from behind him haltingly, his features an unreadable mask as his eyes dart towards Arthur.
Arthur steps in front of Ariadne, as he had done umpteen times on jobs even as she insisted she could take care of herself, and just like previous times, whips out a gun and deftly shoots them both in the head.
The horror that runs through Ariadne’s body feels real enough.
As the dream starts to crumple around them, Arthur turns to her and places both hands on her cheeks, the gun is gone, but the chill of metal seeps from his skin to hers. He pleads, "Don't leave me." His eyes shines, frantic and mad with desperation. Ariadne has never seen him this way.
When she wakes up, the team leave their target in the private hospital ward and Yusuf drives them back to the hotel. Cobb sits next to Ariadne, but doesn’t say anything, doesn’t reprimand her. Eames ignores her. The ghost of Arthur’s hands lingers on her cheeks. She daren’t move. She might lose that feeling.
There is knock on her hotel door hours later. Eames strides in, throws the machine onto the bed.
"Do it in your own time.” He doesn't offer his trademark smirk, doesn't pepper his words with endearments or sarcasm. He just stands there, looks at Ariadne. She can't hold his gaze so she walks away to find him something to drink.
"Cobb says it’s dangerous."
Eames laughs drily. She hears a soft thump and the crunching of fabric as he falls heavily onto the bed. “You would think Cobb knows what he’s doing, after that whole debacle with Mal. Look where his advice has gotten us.”
"It's not -. That wasn’t Arthur. He won’t - "
"Won't what, love? Kill me and Cobb?" Now he throws himself unceremoniously onto the bed, his hands reaching for a pillow to stuff under his head.
Ariadne bites her lower lip and she fetches a beer from the mini bar. “It's like what Cobb said about Mal. My projection of him would be less than a tenth of what he really is. It won’t be real."
"Don't sell yourself short, sweetheart. You're a much better architect than Cobb was at his age. I think. Wait, don't tell him I said that." He sits up, his smirk sliding back into place. The forger in Eames is slipping back through, the one that puts up a facade of joviality and taunt and tease to hide from the world.
Ariadne sits down beside him, says nothing, in no mood to play his game.
She hears him sigh after a moment, and he says, “It felt real though, didn’t it.” She turns to look at him, but he has thrown his arm over his face.
He continues, "Cobb felt guilty about Mal. That was main reason why his projection of Mal was so aggressive. You, my dear, you feel nothing but love for Arthur. It's little wonder your projection of him is so selfishly possessive and stupidly protective. You want to be with him, no matter the cost. No crime in that."
Ariadne closes her eyes and sees the crazed look in Arthur's eyes as he fired at Cobb and Eames. She shakes her head.
"You think you know a way you can be with the man you love, but you're denying yourself that. Would drive any man crazy, let alone your subconscious projection. Denial is a natural stage of the grief process, but I am quite sure the psychologists don’t mean it like this." Eames continues among more shuffling of fabric as he sits up and opens the case with a familiar metallic click.
Ariadne finally looks him in the eyes.
"You need to see him. Talk to him. Come to terms that this is not a way to be with him." Eames’ eyes darts downwards for the barest of seconds. "You have to slowly let him go."
"You've been through this before," Ariadne says. It isn't a question.
"I can go in with you if you want," Eames doesn’t look away, doesn’t deny it. The forger in him holds her gaze, his smile bordering on a flippant challenge.
Ariadne smiles a little, shakes her head, "I want to be alone with him."
"I’ll take that then.” He takes the beer from her hands. “You better be back before I finish up the entire mini bar. I don’t think Cobb will appreciate the bill.”
--
a/n: it kinda got a little skewed towards eames/ariadne in the middle. but well, what can i say, stories always have a life of their own. and now i have a whole plot bunny about how the one eames lost is arthur as well because he's been ~secretly~ in love with him the whole time. maybe eames' projection of arthur should meet ariadne's projection. or something.