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"That's pseudo-psychology."
"Somnacin-influenced sleep and natural REM sleep both have the same—"
"That doesn't matter. Anyone can tell you that any dream means anything. It's meaningless."
"It sounds like a pattern."
"If you aren't going to help, then just forget about it."
"Tell Cobb."
"Drop it. You don't know what you're talking about."
-
Arthur doesn't tell Cobb.
He tells Yusuf, since maybe it's an allergic reaction to a chemical in the mix.
Unfortunately, Yusuf's heard the same thing about shared dreams that Ariadne found online about the natural dreams where it happens. It's come up among customers of his dream den before.
It's a pattern.
-
Arthur tells Cobb, "There's something you should know. I've been having a shortness of breath when the two of us dream together. It could be a problem on the Weller job."
"Have you told Yusuf?" Cobb asks, looking concerned, but not aware.
"I told him. It's not the mix. He thinks it's interpersonal."
Cobb squints. "It's something I'm doing?"
"No, it just happens around you."
"You dream with me, and it makes you wake up out of breath?"
"No, it only happens in the dream."
Cobb loses tension. "Oh, okay, I thought it was serious." He stands. "Show it to me. Does it matter who's the dreamer? Did it happen yesterday?"
"It happened yesterday."
Cobb rolls up a sleeve. "Then we'll try it the other way, see if that makes a difference."
-
The marble sculptures of the piazza are crowded around by tourist and pigeon alike.
Arthur exits the cluster and sits on one of the benches facing the central fountain.
He can breathe just fine until he spots Cobb from afar.
"Is it happening?" Cobb calls once in earshot.
"A little. The closer you are, the worse it gets."
Cobb stops mid-step half a dozen feet away and stands there, eyes on the labored heaving of Arthur's chest.
"Would you mind if I see what happens if I get even closer?" Cobb asks.
"Go ahead," comes out as a rasp.
When Cobb gets within arm's reach, Arthur's off the bench and pitching over the lip of the fountain, coughing out snatches of white that the cascade of water from the upper basin churns down to mix with the coins.
-
"How long has this been going on?"
"Since you came back."
Cobb broods for a moment. "So it might be an aftereffect of Limbo, something I brought back with me."
Cobb gets up from his recliner and walks to the rest of the team at the desks near the windows. "Eames, have you got a forge of me on deck?"
"Why? Has sitting on your hand lost its charm?"
"Very funny. I need your help with something. Arthur's behaving strangely, and I want to rule out why."
Ariadne interferes in an innocent tone, "Strange how?"
Cobb tells her, "He gets paper in his throat when he's close to me. You might have to factor it into your designs, to keep us apart. But it shouldn't be an issue most of the time, since I can focus on the extraction, and he can be off handling projections."
Eames asks, "What's the 'Double Mr. Charles Gambit' for?"
"It won't be both of us, just one at a time, and he won't know which of us it is. I want to rule out if it's an effect that my presence is having on others or if his mind is responding to the idea of me."
"I can play you well enough to fool a mark, but it might not work on him." Eames raises his voice to ask, "What do you think, Arthur? Don't you know Cobb too intimately for that?"
Arthur hasn't moved from his chair beside the PASIV, across the room.
Cobb says, "We'll try what you have now. If it doesn't have an effect, you can refine it later."
-
Arthur dreams of a hospital corridor with three empty door frames on one side. There's nothing in the rooms except a single window each, to let light in from the bright white void beyond.
Cobb exits one of the rooms and walks down the corridor towards Arthur where he stands with his back to the wall without exits.
"Cobb," Arthur guesses.
Cobb raises a finger to his lips.
Cobb gets close and Arthur starts coughing. Cobb keeps coming until he places his palms against the wall on either side of Arthur's head. Arthur's eyes water as his throat closes up.
In a bleary blink, Cobb is Eames. He leans back. "So, what's the story for the boss?"
Arthur breathes in and out. "We tell him it happens with the forge."
"Hmmm..." Eames pouts thoughtfully. "And you think letting him believe it's paper will hold water, even after someone tells him what flower-spitting means?"
Arthur wipes white petals off his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's paper. It doesn't mean anything. I don't... You're not going to tell him."
"Did you ever do it when he was with Mal? Or when the shade was with him?"
Arthur glowers. "None of your business."
"Well, if it's a matter of the heart, then by all means, keep it private. But if it's meaningless, then it's relevant to the data we're gathering."
Arthur unholsters his Glock. "It started after he came back from retirement."
"Ah, so you didn't get your hopes up while he was—"
Arthur puts a bullet through Eames' heart.
-
When Cobb hears it happened with the forge, he's appeased. It doesn't sound as contagious as he'd first thought. It's only in Arthur's head.
Cobb appoints Arthur to poll his contact list and find out if anyone else in dreamshare has ever come across something like this before.
In the meantime, Cobb directs them all to focus on the Weller job. Ariadne will redesign the racecourse to accommodate for more space between the safe at the betting window and the "bottleneck" at the entryway.
They've all suddenly started calling it that, when before it was the chokepoint.
-
Arthur keeps away from Cobb outside the dream, too.
Cobb notices. "Do you think that'll help?" he crosses the distance to ask.
Arthur keeps his face impassive. "Can't hurt."
Cobb pats him on the shoulder. "Well, keep looking into it. I'm sure you'll figure it out."