Dream a Little Dream (Inception: Arthur/Dom) For Me

Dream a Little Dream (Inception: Arthur/Dom) For Me (Chapter Twenty Six)

            “I’m not going to faint,” I said as clearly as possible, though I was well aware that my words were slightly slurred together. I felt Arthur’s hands leave, and Dom’s replace them, lifting me to my feet. The black was slowly disappearing, but my head still spun. I tried to keep my eyes locked on Dom’s. They were my focal point. “Just don’t move. Don’t go.”

            “I’m not going anywhere,” was his reply, compassionate and calm. I wanted so badly for that to mean more than just standing there. I wanted it to mean that he would be there forever. The thought made my heart pound and my face heat up. This couldn’t be happening to me. This was me. I didn’t need anyone. I never needed anyone.

            “We need to go,” I said, trying to make my voice clear. Dom hesitated, looking over to Arthur. “No, I’m not staying here. You know as well as I the pain will be less in the next level, and so on.”

            “Fine,” he allowed. “But that’s the only reason. You’ll stick with me, you won’t try and use a gun, and you will do exactly what I say. Arthur, carry her back, would you?”

            I was lifted into Arthur’s arms and we began the trek back to the meeting spot. I was aware that we fell far behind the group, probably because I was weighing down Arthur so much. I sighed and settled in against him, staring at the hollow of his neck. “Arthur…”

            “Yes?”

            “Why do you like me?”

            “Pardon?”

            “Truth.”

            I heard a sigh exit his body, and he was silent for a moment. I wondered if he would even respond. As expected, he countered, “Why do you think I like you?”

            “I really don’t know. I’m pretty terrible. I’m not saying that so that you’ll tell me otherwise. I know it’s true. I strung you and Dom along, and didn’t even end up with one of you. I went with Richard, who I didn’t even love. And I come back and do the same thing. You read about those people in books, or see them in the movies, and hate them, but…I am one. And I just don’t know why you would like someone like me.”

            “I don’t know where you’re with this,” he told me. I could feel my heart pounding in long, slow beats. Could I tell him what I really thought, or would it push him away forever?

            “I just worry that you don’t actually love me. That…that I’m just someone who was convenient because I fulfilled everything that people claim you’re not. I’m outgoing, I’m blunt, I’m rude, I’m obnoxious sometimes. I’m adventurous, and I hate order. Arthur, we have nothing in common.”

            Arthur’s face showed none of the tension that I knew he must be feeling just about now. “I don’t think this is the time for this conversation.”

            “After this, I’m going to choose. I promise,” I whispered. I wasn’t even sure he heard me, but when I saw the line on his mouth grow tight, I knew he had. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but maybe hurting them now was the only way to not hurt them more, if that made any sense? I still wasn’t even sure what I was going to do. Go with Arthur, the safe, logical man who I knew would dedicate everything to me, and treat me like a queen, or with Dom, who would still be ever loyal, though more rebellious, and with kids. Could I handle kids? I wanted kids, I knew that. But could I love someone else’s kids? I didn’t know.

            “In here!” Eames shouted, waving us in. Arthur picked up the pace, bringing us into the safety of the locked room. We wasted no time injecting the sedative, and like that, we were in Chandler’s level.

CASSIE’S POINT OF VIEW

            “Around here, maybe?” Cassie mused, pulling away the old wood that led to an old tunnel under the house. Not her style, but hey, Robert seemed like the type to have a creepy tunnel thing.

            “I don’t think so,” Eames said skeptically, but followed her in immediately. It ended up being a dead end, blocked off by rocks. No Chandler. Cassie wanted to cry out with frustration. They had been searching for nearly twenty minutes, and they only had ten left before they were pushed back out of the dream. She sat on the ground, head in hands, trying to think. Where would Chandler go? Where would he go?

            Cars, Cassie realized. Chandler loved cars. Where was the garage? She got up immediately, dodging past Eames without him noticing. It felt like she was almost in a trance, weaving her way around the house until she was facing the four-car garage. She pressed the garage opener button, and the door opened, revealing four old cars, possibly ferrari’s. It was dark and dusty, like no one had been in there in a long time. But she knew better, when she spotted a hand print in the dust on the windowsill, sliding down as if one was injured.

            “Chandler?” She called out, voice echoing. A low moan answered her. She nearly gasped out loud, falling over her feet to grab the handle of the fire red car next to her. There, lying on the seat was a bloody and beaten Chandler. His blonde hair was stained pink, and he looked worn out and older. That didn’t stop her from throwing herself over him, sobbing, kissing his cheeks, his forehead, any area of skin she could reach. “Oh, Chandler, you’re alright!”

            “You’re hurting me, woman,” came the muffled response. Cassie nearly bawled. She had been waiting, dreaming, listening for that lovely voice. The voice of the man she loved. Yes, she loved him, she knew it now.

            Chandler’s arm came up around her, holding her close to his chest as he breathed in deeply, breath slightly shaky.

            “Hang on, Chandler,” she whispered. “We’re getting you out of he