dream a dream (and what you see will be), by Mizzy, R

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Fandom: INCEPTION / Never-Ending Story
Title: dream a dream (and what you see will be)
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Length: 60,000
Author on LJ: mizzy2k
Author Website: masterlist of fics on author's journal
Why this must be read: This is an astonishing fic. It begins with a complicated idea--that the main character of Never-Ending Story, Bastian, was actually the book's author, and that he grew up to be Arthur--with, er, one extremely serious caveat. When the Inception team attempts to save a little girl's life by building her a dream of Fantasia, the world of Bastian's childhood, they're faced with a terrible truth that could destroy Arthur and everyone he loves. With Ariadne as this story's narrator, Mizzy plumbs all kinds of depths here, achieving remarkable feats of worldbuilding, plot mastery, characterization, and emotional development, all in one scary, gripping, profoundly moving story that will have you on tenterhooks and in tears. Above all, it will make you appreciate Arthur's quintessential Arthurness so much--especially with Eames' love for him and Ariadne's belief in him serving as the driving forces as they embark on a quest that will either save or damn them all forever.

(Quoting a longish excerpts bc the fic itself is so long, and because I'm in love with Mizzy's writing, ahhh.)

So why the hell is Cobb saying Ariadne should take point?

She's missing something. Huge. It's a sad fact that she contemplates how to extract the reason from Cobb before she considers just plain asking him when she gets a quiet moment, or maybe it's just sad that an extraction would hold a greater chance of succeeding than outright asking for the truth.

"I'm fine-" Ariadne says. "I can just sit this one out. Or, y'know. Tourist. Amelia's family trusts me. We don't know why she's not waking up. She's physically healthy. Anything could be causing her to mentally withdraw. A female presence in the dream could be key."

"You're point on this mission, Ariadne." Cobb says, hard. "Don't make me say it again." He doesn't look at anyone in particular when he says, "If anyone has trouble with that, I've got time to replace you all. Arthur, start running Ariadne through her paces. You of all people know how much a task it is to hold something like this in one head."

It turns out to be a complete understatement.

The maps are insane. Ariadne thinks after ten minutes of Arthur explaining the system to her that her head is going to explode, because what kind of physical place shifts its locations around? The main piece of the dreamscape stays in the centre, like a hub, and depending on which direction the dreamers go, Ariadne has to compensate with the landscape. Arthur seems quite happy explaining it to her, and confident she'll be able to manage it. She tries not to be sour that he doesn't feel worried about his job; Arthur and Cobb have been working together forever. It's Ariadne that's the newbie.

She wishes she had Arthur's faith in her that it will fit in her head.

________

And then Arthur makes this keening sound. Low in his throat, like he's been shot.

Eames and Yusuf don't notice at first, too busy still splashing around, but Ariadne does, and her heart clenches at his stricken expression. Arthur turns from her, looking out into the sea with an expression that hurts, and Ariadne nearly reaches out for him automatically without thinking, pulling her hand back when she remembers last second that Arthur isn't particularly touchy-feely.

She tries to follow Arthur's gaze, and he's staring at Eames. He swallows, and it's like he's having trouble scraping oxygen into his lungs, and he says, helplessly, "He doesn't even know what he's asking me to give up."

Ariadne can't help herself. She doesn't understand the moment—she only understands Arthur's in some sort of pain, and that's enough for her to want to act. She can't stop herself this time. Her hand reaches out, touches his elbow and he flinches, looking at her with wide, hollow eyes. And then he shakes himself, and his mouth sets into that thin, heavy line she's more familiar with.

"We should get back," Arthur says, his voice low and uncertain. He shoves his free hand in a pocket and starts to walk back, shoes still dangling from the other. Ariadne watches him go. She wasn't cold before but now she can feel it, down to her bones. The bright sunshine is a decoy to the actual temperature of the day.

"What did you say?" Eames demands, splashing towards her. His expression is set in shadow as he stares after Arthur, a frown on his face. Ariadne can see the frown, and she doesn't understand it for the longest time.

"I didn't say anything," Ariadne says. Arthur's heading for the embankment, and Eames is still frowning at him. Eames can see something she can't. She looks again, focussing. His shoes in his left hand dangle, swaying oddly. "He's less tense."

"He's absolutely pissed off, but you're right. He's looser. And look at his feet."

Ariadne looks, and tilts her head to the side, like a different angle might give her a better appreciation. She hadn't noticed anything different at all, but she does now. She wonders if it's Eames' talents, or if it's because Eames just watches Arthur more than she does. "He's walking toe to heel, not heel to toe."

"Like a dancer," Eames murmurs. Ariadne doesn't know if he realizes he's said that out loud. He shakes himself, and gives her a broad smile she doesn't believe. "Looks like it's time to get back to work."

"It is getting rather chilly," Yusuf says from behind them. Ariadne startles. She hadn't realized he'd been so close, but it makes sense. Something big enough to cause that much of an argument between Arthur and Cobb is something huge, something terribly secret, and they're so closed knit any secret is going to be a focal point of their lives.

They're not as relaxed as Ariadne had hoped they would be as they walk back to their headquarters, but they're also not as tense. She thinks of the emails she's been getting from her friends in corporate operations about their teambuilding exercises, which have mostly included building things from newspaper and abseiling and really odd buffet food. Ariadne much prefers Cobb's version, even though they're all quiet on the way back. Eames seems oddly entranced by how Arthur's walking, swapping between heel-to-toe and toe-to-heel at the oddest of moments.

She thinks maybe Arthur hurt his foot; he's stoic enough not to mention something like that.

The truth is much worse than that.

A few metres away from the front door of the warehouse, Arthur stops. His expression is blank, and he's staring at the door like it's the worst thing in the universe.

Ariadne slows and comes to a stop a few paces behind him. The others stop beside her. It happens a lot in people who work together—the hive mentality. One holds back and the rest do automatically.

Arthur's shoulders are tense, and he looks like he might never move again.

"Do you know they've done studies about memory?" Arthur says. Ariadne almost wishes she could see his face, but she's locked to the spot by her own fear. Arthur is reliable and dependent and doesn't act oddly, but this is out of character. For Arthur to break routine, it has to be something terrible. His voice is cold and flat, like during their briefings, when he's relaying clinical facts. "That feeling when you walk to the kitchen to do something, but by the time you get there you've forgotten what you're going for. We have that feeling when we're dreaming from the very beginning of the dream. Like there's something we've forgotten."

"We use that feeling," Cobb says, "to do our job."
"Did you know that studies say it's perfectly reasonable to go from one room to the next and forget the reason why you even made the move? It's because the brain compartmentalizes everything. Memory's not continuous. Our brains are more like computers. We have to put things in blocks. Doors, thresholds, they're a natural barrier. Our brain automatically uses the sensation of passing through a door to close the door on that block of memory."

"Trust you to research that," Eames says, already rolling his eyes, but he has his hands in his pockets. It's defensive body language. He's just on edge as the rest of them.

"Doors are just symbols. But then, so are totems. And they're sometimes the only thing keeping us grounded."

"We can do this later," Cobb says, edging a little closer, a small frown creasing his forehead like he's only just now figuring out something is wrong. Ariadne wants to slap him round the back of his head. It's a common impulse around him and Ariadne's well practised at holding it back in. She's had more than her fair share of revenge in the dream world. Once she "accidentally" dropkicked him down a well. Good times, she thinks, and feels instantly saddened; this moment feels the farthest from good times she's ever felt.

"The longer we wait the harder it is to make a clean break of it." Arthur squares his shoulders, like moving through the door into the warehouse is going to kill him, and Ariadne swallows hard, tasting acid. She doesn't like this day. She really doesn't like it. She wants to cry or crack apart the sky. She wants to dream up a world exactly like this moment just so she can destroy it. She wants Arthur to stay outside, and go back to the beach with them, or at least stay where he is, because if he moves, Ariadne feels like the world might end if he does. It's melodramatic and over the top, but that's the only way she can describe it.

Arthur steps forward, because wishing that something isn't real means squat in the real world. He pauses, and turns then, and his face is the most terrible thing that Ariadne's ever seen, because there's pain in it. And Arthur never shows emotion, never, and this is worse than being in pain herself-

"It's time for a parade," Arthur says, clear, concise, impossible; he looks at Eames helplessly for a moment, then turns to the door and says, in a much less composed voice, in a voice that's almost a whisper, "I don't want to die."

And then he pushes open the door and steps through.

dream a dream (and what you see will be)