Note: Thanks for all of the great reviews of chapter two. FYI, only one chapter is left after this one. Also, this marks my first dream attempt. I'm not exactly sure how "correct" it is when it comes to the rules for dreaming, but I tried to make it dramatic and interesting. Hope it's okay!

"Excuse me," Arthur said getting the attention of both Mal and Dom All they could do was stare at him at first, perhaps unbelievingly at their bad luck. As soon as Dom gained his head, he took a step forward, covering Mal with his own body. Arthur studied Dom's face for a moment, as if he was trying to remember someone. "It was you wasn't it? Outside of the office earlier today?" Arthur asked with no anger or even annoyance. If there was any emotion on his face it was straight curiosity.

Dom needed to get Mal out of here. Now. "Look, can you please let my wife leave? She's pregnant." Mal's fingernails attached themselves to Dom's side telling him that she wasn't going anywhere without him, pregnant or not.

Arthur gazed at Dom for a few moments before saying, "I'm not...holding you hostage. The door is still open. Both you and your wife are free to go." Dom stared at this kid in amazement. He didn't know whether to be comforted or terrified by the fact that this man was so indifferent about the whole situation. If Dom didn't know better, he would say that Arthur was having a normal conversation with them. Maybe he'd ask about the weather next.

"So we can just go?" Dom asked in disbelief. Although it was starting to look like that there was a way out of this mess, his body was far from relaxed. Dom's left hand could reach for his gun at any moment. The only thing that worried him was that he didn't know if he could draw faster than Arthur could.

"You both can go. Just you got to do something for me, okay?" He asked while taking a few steps into his apartment. "I need you to not say a word about this. Not a word, not even to each other ever again. Because I'm pretty sure you know what I can do if I need to do it," Arthur explained without detail, all he had to do was meet eyes with Dom. Yes, Dom could fill in the blanks.

"You...you won't follow us?" Mal questioned behind her husband.

"No," Arthur said shaking his head, glancing at the wall for a moment. "I kinda have more pressing things right now. So go ahead." He took a step to the side so they could head right for the door. Calm as can be.

Dom, turned back slightly to hold Mal's hand, and slowly inched towards the door. He kept Mal's body to his side now, away from Arthur. His eyes stayed on Arthur, though, who only watched them in return, making no movements to lunge at them. When Dom reached the doorframe, he made sure that Mal was on the stairwell. Satisfied, he turned to the other man. "You're good at what you do," He murmured, "But you don't clean up what's left behind I'm sure anyone would tell you it's bad for business." Dom knew now that Arthur wasn't working for the mob. The mob would waste anyone who came near to knowing the truth. No, it seemed that Arthur was working for one person, himself.

Arthur tilted his head to the side like a confused dog. "I don't like killing people, mister, but some people deserve it. Others don't. Now if you don't mind, I have some tidying up to do." It was Arthur who closed the door on Dom. Mal stood by not sure whether to kiss her husband or smack him for talking to Arthur after all of that. Turning to leave, she caught a glimpse of the inside of the apartment through a narrow opening in the drapes. Arthur was peeling down each paper from the wall carefully and placing it in a box. The man didn't rip it down with anger or obsession. He treated each letter, each map, each photo as if it were an old friend. The box he was stacking it in was labeled 1985-1999.

"It's over," She whispered to herself. "He's done."

"What do you mean?" Dom reached for her, to remind himself that she was really there. God knew that they were spinning that top as soon as they got in the car.

Mal just nudged her head forward. "Look. He's taking it down. He even..he looks sad. Didn't you say after he killed Adam Goode that he said aloud that he was done. I guess he is...with all of this." When Mal stopped speaking she seemed to notice just how crazy all of this was, "Okay, I need a drink." Which was then followed up by an angry, "Damn, I'm pregnant."

Dom let the slightest bit of a smile grow onto his face, holding Mal's hand and leading her down to the car. All the while, he knew that he should be glancing over his shoulder. To make sure that Arthur kept his promise, to make sure that he wasn't going to come after them. But somehow, he knew that Arthur wasn't. He had no interest in them.

After getting into the car, Dom stared back at those drapes. Not exactly looking for Arthur, but musing on his existence. "He didn't even hurt us. Didn't even have an interest."

Mal licked her lips before saying, "Those papers that he had on the wall. Some of them were from ages ago. He's been planning this for years, not days, years. Did you see the year on the box? 1985. He would have been five or six years old then." Mal looked over at her husband and found his hand with hers. It was such an overwhelming feeling for Mal. Not being able to go into dreams anymore, not being able to the risk taker that she was all her life. She had to hold back now. That baby of theirs deserved to live and experience the world, but that meant that Mal had to leave her husband behind with a stranger. On the surface, their occupation was so harmless. After all, if you were killed in a dream you would wake up. But it was when you woke up that the danger really began. Mal and Dom created quite a few enemies from jilted employers, vengeful marks, and even jealous dreamers who believed themselves to be the better than the infamous Cobbs. Mal didn't want to leave Dom with someone who was just learning the ropes. But if she had to leave him with anyone, she wanted it to be someone who knew how to shoot a gun. Someone who knew how to protect someone else, and how to stay hidden.

She was convinced, Arthur was her replacement.

"Dom, we have to go in," Mal murmured her fingers interlacing with Dom's. "We need to see why this happened to him...just to make sure that he's the one. But I think he is...we need to go in."

Dom leaned over and kissed Mal's forehead. "I will. Tonight. Tonight, we'll learn all about Arthur."

"Arthur," A girl whispered passing Arthur a note over her shoulder.

A teenage Arthur leaned forward slightly so he could take the note and maintain an eye on Mr. Kent. Granted, Mr. Kent's biology class wasn't the most exciting, especially when he was discussing the beauty of cells, Arthur needed to focus on his work. But there was always that one person who always seemed dedicated to distracting Arthur.

Looking two desks over from his own, Arthur saw Adam Goode. Adam decided to wave to his friend rather animatedly.

"Adam," Mr. Kent's voice echoed through the tiny classroom. "Would you like to share with us the different qualities of the cell wall?" His eyes narrowed perhaps hoping that he caught that Goode kid for once.

Adam turned to the front and cleared his throat. "Sounds so much better when you explain it, Mr. Kent."

The students of the class tried to stifle their laughter. Arthur, did not laugh at all, instead, he opened the note and read, "Artie, SNOOZEFEST, huh? Who cares about cells as long as they're making me up yeah? Or Michelle. Did you see those cells around her boob area today? I mean, c'mon. How can I concentrate? You still on for Friday? -Goody."

Arthur wrote his response on the paper, "yep," and passed it back. No need to get into detail. Mr. Kent was writing on the board again, which meant that Arthur had to go back to his notes. Everything he wrote on the board was always on the test. Arthur had to write down the notes word for word...if for no other reason, Adam would need them later. He was one hell of a good friend.

"Now!" Mr. Kent orated, "We shall begin-" There was a knock at the door. An interruption.

"Yes!" Adam hissed loud enough for the entire class to hear him.

A thirty-something man poked his head in the classroom door. "Hi there. I'm William Charles, new guidance counselor here. Hi everyone."

The students seemed less than interested in Mr. Charles although they were thankful that Mr. Kent's lecture was cut short for the moment. Arthur flipped to the back of his notebook, and saw those four names that he had written over and over again. Adam Goode. Charlie Mara. Jack Sorrento. Francis Liotta. Absently, he ran his pencil over the "A" in Adam again before turning to the "d." It was his habit, he would do so again and again until his pencil pierced through the light cardboard. Adam asked him about the names once, and Arthur simply said it was the names of all of his best friends. The other names belonged to friends he had before he moved closer to Las Vegas. That was what he said anyway.

"I'd like to see Arthur and Adam outside please," The new guidance counselor announced.

Adam groaned and pulled himself from the desk. "At least I don't have to listen to this shit anymore."

Mr. Charles raised his brows. "Charming. Coming Arthur?"

Arthur took a deep breath and slipped his books into his book bag before following Adam outside. The guidance counselor closed the door so the three of the could have complete privacy. "I'm going to be honest with you boys," He started crossing his arms. "We just got word at the guidance department that the two of you may be gambling on school property."

"What! No way, man. That's ridiculous," Adam lashed out right away, knowing full well that gambling on school grounds was suspension worthy. "It's because my parents owned a casino isn't it? So fucking stupid."

"Mr. Goode, please let me remind you of your language," Mr. Charles commented although he kept his cool. His eyes transferred over to Arthur. "What do you have to say about this?"

Arthur put his hands in his pockets and paused.

Mr. Charles raised his brows. "Arthur, what do you have in your pocket?"

Arthur glanced at his friend, Adam was shaking his head. Rebel against authority, yeah that didn't always work well. Arthur tightened his fingers around the small object. Then he slowly pulled the object out from his pocket, and opened his hand. It was a red die. "I...we weren't gambling though. I just...it means something to me."

"I'm sorry boys, we're going to have to search your lockers. Can I have the die, Arthur?" Mr. Charles held his hand out to the boy.

Arthur glanced down at the die in his hand. A tightness was forming in his chest, he didn't want anyone to touch it. No, he couldn't let him have it.

"I'll give it back, Arthur," Mr. Charles assured him.

Hesitantly, Arthur allowed the die to drop into Mr. Charles' hand. "As long as I can have it back."

"This is ridiculous man," Adam complained his face getting redder and redder by the moment. "I don't know why the hell he has a die in his pocket. You shouldn't even showed to him, Arthur. What are you retarded?"

"Mr. Goode, why don't you go back into the classroom and I will come see you later. All right?" Mr. Charles offered, gently pushing the loud child towards Mr. Kent's classroom

Adam didn't seem to be too fond of the idea, but he knew he had no choice. "Can't believe this man," He muttered. Then he seemed to have an idea, "You know it was all Arthur's idea! Yeah, yeah it was all his idea."

"Good bye, Mr. Goode," Mr. Charles said obviously not interested in his confession. Neither Mr. Charles or Arthur bothered to look back at Adam as they headed toward the lockers. The lockers though, Arthur took notice of them. They were...wider than he remembered them. He was pretty sure last Tuesday he couldn't get that Biology textbook out of his locker because it was so narrow. Maybe he was mistaken...and weren't they a red color not green? Other students strolling down the hallway all seemed to snap their heads to glare at Mr. Charles.

"Arthur!" Mr. Charles put his hand on Arthur's shoulder. "You and Adam have been friends for a while haven't you?" The other students continued on their way now, without taking notice of either of them.

The boy shrugged. "Since about fourth grade, yeah. We got closer when we were in middle school though."

"Didn't seem to mind throwing you under the bus," He recognized aloud, glancing down at Arthur to see his reaction.

Arthur's reaction? Poker face. "He does that sometimes. Still, I gotta stay friends with him."

"Social reasons? Because he's popular with the other kids," Mr. Charles suggested.

"Kinda," Was Arthur's reply.

Mr. Charles didn't seem too enthusiastic about Arthur's response, almost annoyed really. "This is your locker?" He asked pointing towards a locker which was numbered 1985.

Arthur stood in front of it and nodded. "Yeah, that's mine."

"The combination?" Mr. Charles asked while taking the lock into his hands to input the four numbers.

"1999," Arthur said without a hint of hesitation.

Mr. Charles' lips curled up slightly into a melancholy smile. "Why don't we see what you're hiding, Arthur?" He tugged at the lock and opened the latch. As Mr. Charles opened the locker, Arthur's eyelids suddenly felt heavy. He was forced to close them. When he opened them again, it was pitch black. There was a warm familiar hand on his own, and a terrible feeling in his gut which was also familiar.

"Shh..." A voice murmured beside him. The person who was holding his hand. "We'll be fine. They won't find us in here."

There were other voices as well, but there were far from him. And they were loud. And they were mad.

"Can you believe it, Mr. Liotta? I mean, really. Did you think that you could waltz into the Sunstone and pull this shit? A loaded die on the craps table. Counting cards? Really? Maybe you should have tried that out at Atlantic City before your tried for the big leagues," A gruff angry voice laughed aloud, coughing immediately afterwards. Arthur sniffed and remembered the smell of cigars.

"I know it Mr. Sorreno. It's disgraceful."

"We didn't know what else to do!" It was Dad. He was out there with them. "We had no choice. I've been out of work for a year now, no one will take me cause of my bad back. I just can't work anymore. I had to find a way to put food on our table. Please. We'll pay you back. Every penny, we'll pay you back."

There was a smack. Arthur's mother screamed. "Leave him alone!" The person who held Arthur's hand, tightened her hold on him.

"Mr. Mara, I don't know about you, but I think maybe it's all this bitch's fault. She was the one with the loaded die. Weren't you? Nice and red, think we wouldn't notice? It's really just pathetic isn't it?"

"Horrible."

"You're right about one thing though, Jeremy boy. You are gonna pay us back. You and your wife. Just not in the way that you intended."

"We'll work for you," His mother offered, by just listening to her voice Arthur knew she was crying. "Anything. Please. Have mercy."

That was met with four roars of laughter. Three were old men, one was of a child. "You think that's funny, Adam? You're right. It is! Patheticness is always funny. And these two are hilarious. The two of you need to be wiped out."

"No please-"

"Do it, Mara. Adam, pay attention."

Two gun shots. Two bodies hit the ground.

Arthur huddled close to the person who was holding him. Arms circled around him tightly, almost squeezing him so much it hurt. A quiet whimper of internal pain came from her lips. Although Arthur could not see in the darkness, he knew that her eyes widened in utter fear.

"Did you hear that?"

"Fuck, did anyone look these guys up? Maybe they had someone else working for them or something?"

"I heard it!" A young voice chirped sounding incredibly proud of himself.

"Did you, Adam? That's great, kid. You're a natural. Could you tell us where it came from?"

Arthur felt her fingernails dig into his skin. They hurt, but he knew not to cry out. She told him not to. That they needed to stay silent. That Mommy and Daddy would be okay, but they needed to be silent.

"You heard it in the kitchen cabinets? Well let's see what's behind door number one shall we boys?"

It happened before Arthur could react, before he could understand what was happening. She pushed him away from her. Far away. So when Mara opened the cabinet door, all he could see was a girl. A lean, young girl with dark hair. Mara thrust his fist into her hair, and dragged her out of the cabinet.

"They had a kid! Good find, Adam. We don't want little scum getting out either do we?"

There was another gun shot.

It felt like hours later when Arthur finally climbed out of the cabinets. All of the men were gone. Adam was gone. All that was left behind was his family. His mother, his father, and his sister. He was alone.

Arthur dropped down to their sides, tears streaming down his face.

"Arthur."

He snapped his head up. Mr. Charles. His guidance counselor? It was then that he recognized him. The man in his apartment. "Who are you?" He started to ask standing up to face him. "What's happening?"

"It's your future," Mr. Charles said with a deep warm smile. He knew this was right. "It's time to wake up."