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AN: Inception drabble. Umm possible spoilers? I don't know; I kind of made some stuff up. You can probably still read it without getting too much information that the trailer doesn't show.
"You silly, ignorant girl," Mal said nastily. Her pristine blue eyes were alight with a fury Ariadne had never seen in anyone else, and the scowl on her perfect face made her seem evil and sadistic.
For all Ariadne knew, she was.
"You know you'll never escape me, and neither will my husband," Mal said. "You're trying to take my place."
Ariadne stumbled backwards over clothes and textbooks and every other obstacle that could possibly find its way into her dream. She couldn't control this; why couldn't she control this? She looked around the apartment she'd lived in for the past three years.
It always had a cozy, laid-back feeling to it that made it seem more like home. Ariadne liked nothing more than to spend an afternoon curled up in the ratty armchair with a good book or a sketchpad.
It didn't seem so cozy anymore.
"Do you know," Mal started, and Ariadne knew what would come next without the woman needing to say it. "Do you know what it is to be a lover? A half of a whole?" Her words hit Ariadne hard, wrapping around her like a vice, choking her with their deep and utter despair of the knowledge of something Ariadne knew nothing about.
Then, Mal lunged at her.
Ariadne woke up gasping to find Arthur standing over her with his usual bored expression, although she could detect a bit of concern etching itself into his face. She looked around wildly to find herself in the warehouse at her work bench; she must've dosed off while drawing the plans.
"You okay?" Arthur asked, his hand resting gently on her arm. And yes, to Ariadne's utter delight, he seemed very concerned.
"Fine," She answered, but her voice cracked over the stress. "Just a bad dream," She assured him.
Arthur smirked, but he looked a little envious. "I don't have those anymore, unless of course Eames happens to be with me."
"I heard that, you tight-ass bloke!" The forger snapped from somewhere across the room.
Ariadne tried to laugh a little at their jesting, but she was too focused on what Arthur had just said. "What do you mean, you don't have bad dreams?"
"I don't dream at all," Arthur said. He glanced down at his hand that still rested on her arm, and he quickly stuffed both his hands into his pockets.
"Why not?" Ariadne asked quietly.
"It's the job," He replied. "After a while, you get so used to lucid dreaming, your brain can't function properly without the sedative."
Ariadne tried not to look horrified.
Her expression told him how utterly terrible she thought his lapse of dreaming was, and he felt just as bad thats she would soon suffer the same fate.
He'd tried telling Cobb when she'd first joined the team. He'd made a hundred excuses why she shouldn't. She's too young. She's got too much to hope for. How can you take away one of the very few things that makes her completely human? How can you take away her dreams? But Cobb was insistent, and Arthur had been exhausted.
And the battle was lost.
"How long?"
Ariadne's voice made him glance at her. He frowned; he knew what she was asking, but he didn't want to answer. So he turned around and headed back to his desk. He cursed quietly when he heard her following.
"Arthur," She said, her voice firm. "How long?"
"How long since what?" He played dumb and continued to pack his things into his briefcase; she could chastise him later for being such an ass.
Her voice dropped to a low whisper. "How long since you've dreamed?"
He picked up his briefcase, looked into her innocent brown eyes, and said, "Six years."
Then he quickly turned around and left, not wanting to see what she thought of that.
"Do you know what it is to be a lover? Half of a whole?"
"You silly, ignorant girl," Mal said nastily. Her pristine blue eyes were alight with a fury Ariadne had never seen in anyone else, and the scowl on her perfect face made her seem evil and sadistic.
For all Ariadne knew, she was.
"You know you'll never escape me, and neither will my husband," Mal said. "You're trying to take my place."
Ariadne stumbled backwards over clothes and textbooks and every other obstacle that could possibly find its way into her dream. She couldn't control this; why couldn't she control this? She looked around the apartment she'd lived in for the past three years.
It always had a cozy, laid-back feeling to it that made it seem more like home. Ariadne liked nothing more than to spend an afternoon curled up in the ratty armchair with a good book or a sketchpad.
It didn't seem so cozy anymore.
"Do you know," Mal started, and Ariadne knew what would come next without the woman needing to say it. "Do you know what it is to be a lover? A half of a whole?" Her words hit Ariadne hard, wrapping around her like a vice, choking her with their deep and utter despair of the knowledge of something Ariadne knew nothing about.
Then, Mal lunged at her.
Ariadne woke up gasping to find Arthur standing over her with his usual bored expression, although she could detect a bit of concern etching itself into his face. She looked around wildly to find herself in the warehouse at her work bench; she must've dosed off while drawing the plans.
"You okay?" Arthur asked, his hand resting gently on her arm. And yes, to Ariadne's utter delight, he seemed very concerned.
"Fine," She answered, but her voice cracked over the stress. "Just a bad dream," She assured him.
Arthur smirked, but he looked a little envious. "I don't have those anymore, unless of course Eames happens to be with me."
"I heard that, you tight-ass bloke!" The forger snapped from somewhere across the room.
Ariadne tried to laugh a little at their jesting, but she was too focused on what Arthur had just said. "What do you mean, you don't have bad dreams?"
"I don't dream at all," Arthur said. He glanced down at his hand that still rested on her arm, and he quickly stuffed both his hands into his pockets.
"Why not?" Ariadne asked quietly.
"It's the job," He replied. "After a while, you get so used to lucid dreaming, your brain can't function properly without the sedative."
Ariadne tried not to look horrified.
Her expression told him how utterly terrible she thought his lapse of dreaming was, and he felt just as bad thats she would soon suffer the same fate.
He'd tried telling Cobb when she'd first joined the team. He'd made a hundred excuses why she shouldn't. She's too young. She's got too much to hope for. How can you take away one of the very few things that makes her completely human? How can you take away her dreams? But Cobb was insistent, and Arthur had been exhausted.
And the battle was lost.
"How long?"
Ariadne's voice made him glance at her. He frowned; he knew what she was asking, but he didn't want to answer. So he turned around and headed back to his desk. He cursed quietly when he heard her following.
"Arthur," She said, her voice firm. "How long?"
"How long since what?" He played dumb and continued to pack his things into his briefcase; she could chastise him later for being such an ass.
Her voice dropped to a low whisper. "How long since you've dreamed?"
He picked up his briefcase, looked into her innocent brown eyes, and said, "Six years."
Then he quickly turned around and left, not wanting to see what she thought of that.
