Title: Eyes Snap Open
Fandom: Inception
Word Count: 2,279
Rating: PG
Summary: They all wake up. With eyes snapping open. The dream didn't break them, they broke themselves A/A

Disclaimer: I do not own Inception, although I wished I did...

A/N: Hope you all enjoy this story! I thought I didn't see a lot of stories were they wake up from the plane. Just my little imagination taking control in this story.

Paradox. Non, Je ne regrette rien. No, It's too soon. Floating wires and bodies. Gripping on to the rail of the elevator, knuckles turning white. Squeezing your eyes shut. A splash of water. Drowning.

Eyes snap open.

His eyes snap open. Eyes wandering up and down. He's back in his grey suit that has changed several times throughout the course of the dream. In front of him was a grey plastic seat. His hand instinctively reach out and touches the cool plastic. He lets out the breath he doesn't remember keeping. And closes his eyes. Remembering to breathe.

A waft of tangerines and woodsaw drift his way.

Eyes snap open.

Hair. Tangled mass of expresso hair strewn across the grey plastic. Hair that was very distinctively familiar. As if from a half remembered dream. He reaches for his suit pocket. Pulls out a red die. The weight of it settling in his hands reassuringly. He fumbles for the folded table. He opens the table gingerly and the die, as if knowing what he was thinking, tumbled out of his hand elegantly. He closes his eyes. Praying. Praying that it's not a dream. Praying that he's awake. Praying that he won't become an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone. A gentle thunk snaps through his prayers.

Eyes snap open.

His eyes turn hesitantly to the die. Prayers and half remembered dreams forgotten. His eyes land on the dots. Six. He breaths with ease. So he did wake up. He slips the die gently back into his pocket. The past events come flooding back into his conciousness like a splash of cold water. He eases back into his seat. A thruming headache begins to start. His eyes closed and the skin between his eyebrows wrinkled in an attempt to close out the noise in his head. His long, calloused fingers pressed circles around his temples.

He was hit by another wave of tangerines and woodsaw. Like déjà vu.

Eyes snap open.

Her. Her head spun around and her hair flicking to the left. Her face facing him. Lines of worry and concern line her face. He contains the urge to lift his fingers from his temple to her face. To ease the creases on her face. She opens her mouth.

"Are you alright, Arthur?"

Arthur. Arthur. Right. His name. That name he's hated ever since he was 5 years old. Ever since his neighbour, Lily, called it old-fashioned and ancient. The name that holds so much pain and grief over his father and grandfather. Both ran and both passed. The name that Eames so likes to make fun of, that annoys the hell out of him. But when she says it. It sounds like music to his ears. It sounds like green meadows and blue sea. It sounds like the tinkling of children laughing and the hum of his mother's (who's also passed) lullaby. It moves so gracefully off her lips.

He looked into her caramel eyes. Something like a hint of regret and relief flashes through her eyes. Eames always said that she wore her heart on her sleeve. He couldn't help but agree.

"I'm alright. How are you, Ariadne?"

Ariadne. Ariadne. That name. That name he could say over and over again without getting tired. It suited her well. Mistress of the Labyrinth, the love that saved Theseus from the doom of the Minotaur's Labyrinth. With the red thread she spun. She was smart and clever. Not like any other architect, he and Dom have ever worked with. She had him wrapped around her finger like red thread. She was fresh and new yet innocent and untainted. She was unaware of the dangers and pain that underlined the dream world. He wanted to protect her and shield her from this. But the consequences will catch up to her eventually and he did not want to imagine how it will wear her down.

But for now, he could see her clearly. For now she was safe. For now they were back to reality. As safe as they could be in reality.

His eyes focused back on her face. The creases on her face disappeared and now replaced with a gentle visage. As if his voice calmed her senses. She nodded her head gently but turned her head towards Dom's unconscious body collapsed on his chair. His gaze followed in her direction.

Dom had a serious face when he slept. He was always serious during jobs. Never was he fazed or out of control. He didn't try to break Dom though. Dom broke himself. He didn't dare to question what Dom was hiding. He never thought Dom would become what he was today. But then again, this isn't where he perceived himself to be either. Under these circumstances. In this position.

If eight years ago, you told him that he would be on a plane performing inception on a multimillionaire with a superpower company for another multimillionaire, through dreams, he would have told you that you were crazy. But now that he finds himself in this situation, he couldn't help but wonder what he did to bring himself here. What absurdity that is his life. What danger he has brought on to himself and others. But it was crazy. This predicament he is in is crazy but wonderful.

He was distracted from his thoughts once again by her voice.

"Do you think he'll wake up? Do you think he'll come back?"

He glances at her face. Her face that holds a sliver of hope but more fear than hope. He wonders how she broke into Dom's cold, hard exterior. To find what was lurking underneath freight trains and shattered wine glasses. How she could open him up like a book in matter of weeks while it took him years of prying without succession. It hurt him just a little to know that Dom trusted the new architect with his secrets instead of his long-time point man. But he was more relieved that Dom could tell someone, anyone, what was plaguing him. It made Dom seem, a little human.

He turns back to Dom's face again. Deciding that it was better to ease her than worry her, he replied promptly.

"It depends if you have faith, if he has faith."

And if we all have faith. For a while he was actually fooled by Dom to think that he had everything under control. But he may have been silent through the whole Mal ordeal but he was not stupid. He knew that Dom had buried something nasty and disturbing down in limbo, but he trusted that Dom would tell him if he couldn't keep it under his control. Because he's never actually seen Dom out of control. Because Dom trusted him with his life, at least he thought he did.

Thinking back on the colossal mistake he made in his research for this job and down under in the first level. How could he have not included that Fischer's mind had been trained before? Now, he wouldn't even trust himself. How could he leave out such vital information on a job that held so much elation for Dom? Perhaps he was distracted by her presence. The way she smelled when she walked by his table. The way she smiled while she was explaining her mazes and structures to him. As if she knew she did an outstanding job but still yearning for his approval. The way she would look up to him with respect and admiration when he gave her advice or complimented her. The way she trusted him and had so much faith in him.

Yes, faith. Faith that he, himself has never planted in anyone. He learned early that anticipation was easily destroyed, hope easily suppressed, promises easily broken and dreams easily shattered. Dreams and hopes like his father coming back for him were tossed into the wind. From then on, he held himself differently. Better to feel nothing at all than be hurt. Since then, always the blank visage, the poker face, this also proved beneficial when he entered extraction. He didn't think he could ever feel anything again, let alone feelings for women. The notion of Love that he did not believe in. There were the quick flings and one-night stands, each meant nothing. He couldn't remember half of the girls' names and always woke up to an empty bed and a melancholy after taste. This job did not provide luxuries such as a long-term relationship or a family. Dom was the perfect example of it.

But her. She brought out an odd feeling in him. The want to protect her, the need to be close to her, the desire to make her happy. All these feelings jumbled together like a bag of chips, enough to make him terrified of it. The usual tactics where approached: denying it, shaking it off, punching bag, taking a very cold shower etc... These feelings that were bursting through his mind were so loud to him, he thought at times that Eames could hear it. Hell, everyone could hear it. But he was always good at hiding it. Nevertheless it frightened him excessively. These feelings that he had sworn off of since he didn't even remember when. And he made dead sure that she will never know about these feelings.

But the little kiss during the second level was something that was out of his control. He was possessed by the idea. And it grew on him until he could no longer block it out of his head. So he decided to hell with it and carried it though. She was surprised when the kiss didn't work. He wasn't. He even smiled a barely noticeable smile because she trusted him so much to let him steal a kiss.

He smiled now when he thought of it. She turned her head back to him. He caught another waft of her individual scent. She caught the smile on his face. She raised an eyebrow at him and he quickly wiped the grin off his face. She frowned back at Dom. He looked around the cabin. Everyone seemed to have returned to consciousness except for Dom and Saito. Eames was flirting with the blond waitress working for them and coaxing a glass of champagne and a giggle from her. The forger caught his eye and winked at him. He frowned at Eames and turned his gaze to Yusuf. The chemist was hurriedly getting out of his seatbelt to go somewhere. Undeniably to go to the washroom of course. It was raining cats and dogs down in the first level. He gave another satisfied grin watching the chemist struggling with his seatbelt and cursing in a foreign language. He sobered up immediately once he saw Saito's senseless body.

He heard a rustling in front of him. She slid down her chair and he heard the static the chair made when her hair rubbed against it. Slightly disappointed with the loss of her smell and warmth, he leaned forward and clasped his hands together. As if wanting to conjure some warmth from her again. A slight twitch in Dom's direction directed his gaze to his seat.

Eyes snap open.

Dom's bright blue eyes snapped open. He sighed a breath of relief. The blond waitress came by asking Dom if he would like immigration papers or a wet towel. He shook his head. Another sigh of relief. It was a good sign he didn't lose his mind down in limbo. Dom looked his way and he just smiled and shook his head. Then Dom glanced at her. Then stared straight at Saito. There was the irrefutable age in Saito's eyes. He most likely spent a lifetime down there. He could not fathom how that would affect Saito. But he was glad to see Saito pick up the airplane phone and make true on the promise he made Dom. Saito didn't entirely lose his mind in limbo, but he knew that Saito will never be the same from now on. His experience and age will stick with him forever and will take its toll like it has on Dom.

It was finally all over for Dom. He couldn't help but feel a little somber and wistful about losing an excellent partner and a good friend. He knows that Dom will not be able to stay away from the dream world forever but he knows for a fact that Dom will not be taking any more jobs. It would be the best for him and his children. Despite him and Dom being very close for such a long period of time, he will not be calling Dom in the future. Nor will he be having contact with Dom. It was all for the best if Dom wanted a life with his family. But if ever Dom wanted to contact him, he would know what to do. He always did.

She turned around again. Looking at him straight in the eye. He could see the question in her eyes.

It's over isn't it?

He looked straight at her.

For now.

She opened your mouth.

"What are you going to do Arthur?"

That name again. Time and time again.

"Tie up some loose ends. Lay low. I'd advise you to do the same thing, Ariadne. Go back to Paris, to your normal life."

He knew the look in her eyes. The look of defiance and exhilaration. The same look he had so many years ago on his first job.

It said

No way, you're not getting rid of me that fast. It's just the beginning.

And he couldn't wait.

A/N: Did you enjoy it? If you did, please review! It would really make my day..! I'll give you some cookies :D:D