A/N: After watching this movie I was struck with how I really wanted to do this fic. So i caved and did and I'm loving it so inspired. If i get anything glaringly wrong point it out, merci.
Summary: Inertia - the tendency of a body to maintain its state of rest or uniform motion unless acted upon by an external force. What happens when Ariadne's inertia is thrown off yet again? A dangerous mission, old friends and the continuing question: Is this real?
Disclaimer: Don't own Inception, I am not nearly clever enough to bend minds like that. Also I've only read a handful of Inception fics so this all comes from my messed up mind
Thanks to my lovely beta Haylee for kicking my bum into posting. The chapters are longer than this. Promise.
After the Inception she returned to Paris, to her life, not that it could ever be called normal in the first instance. She didn't expect to hear from the team again but it didn't stop her from hoping. She split her attention equally; the first half on her studies, producing a high standard of work as usual. It was easier now, silly and trivial almost but she completed it without a single complaint. The other half of her attention she focussed on wishing, hoping and fantasising.
She dreamt of all the different ways that her team members would save her from her monotonous existence and whisk her away to a life of pure creativity and adrenaline. She was in no way stupid; she knew Cobb was not coming back for her, for any of them. For the others though she still had hope. She wished, Arthur, Eames and even on occasion Yusef would come and whisk her back into the addictive and slightly immoral world of dream thieving. Even Saito would be a welcoming face, hell after a while she would even admit to herself that she would be happy to see Fisher again.
After a month she immersed herself completely into her school work, spending more time than she thought possible on her work, barely sleeping and going out with her friends just often enough to keep them from worrying. Soon her roommate stops asking where she went.
They still didn't come. Another month passes - then two, then it's been a season. Six months later she began wishing that she'd dreamt it up. It felt like a dream but she knew it happened, her totem is still buried deep in underwear draw and she knew deep within her heart no matter how good she was, she couldn't have imagined it in a million years. She couldn't have created such complex and twisted men. She couldn't begin to fathom the depths of the revenge and angst.
A full year had passed before she felt comfortable spending any of the money sitting in her bank account, another reminder that this was real. She splashed out on a slightly larger apartment for her and her roommate. It was in a nicer area of Paris, and it was beautifully furnished but inconspicuous. They continued to live together until Heather moved in with her fiancé and again it served as another painful and rather blunt reminder that her life held no substance.
Several months after Heather had moved out, she stopped seeing Arthur in every well-groomed man that happened to pass her in the street, stopped hearing Eames in every British accent and stopped envisioning Cobb when she saw children with their fathers.
Exactly 472 days later, she gave up on them ever coming back for her. That is longer than safety's sake. She resigns herself to the fact that she was only on the team for Cobb, that the rest of them didn't care for her or respect her skills. She was alright with this, she has to be.
Ariadne is moving forwards, with no destination in mind.