Well, I don't know where to start:) After seeing Inception last week I thought about writing a fanfic and here I am doing just that. It's not hard to get inspired by such a mesmerising movie. I chose to write about my favourite characters. I hope you enjoy it. You could leave a review and tell me what you think:)

Tell me now so I know

There are so many things that I could do

If you tell me now then I know what to do

Tell me now so I know...

Holly Golightly - Tell me now so I know

/

It was a perfect day for a funeral. The sky was turning into a sickly grey. The trees had no colour. The sun had died. But it wasn't that kind of funeral.

This funeral belonged to a man she did not know personally.

She had never even seen him on TV.

The crowd of photographers and reporters in the graveyard.

They looked ready to bite from the man's own flesh. They didn't care what they were doing as long as they were in the middle of things.

Everyone was wearing dark shades and black coats.

She was watching from a considerable distance. There was no point for her to be there. In fact, if she recalled well, she was not even allowed to be there.

She should have been somewhere else.

The wind was dry. The summer wind was dead. She collected the last green leaves under her dirty boots.

The sound of cameras was vaguely similar to termites biting into old wood.

Robert Fischer threw the first clod of earth over the casket.

His face was full of pain and love. Ariadne knew that they were the only reason he still loved his father.

She wished that the bishop would not fall. If this was a dream, it would make sense. But as it was, she saw Robert's death, not his father's.

His godfather was standing further in the back, weeping quietly (maybe even not weeping) in a handkerchief.

It was official; she had ruined his one good relationship. Robert would go through life alone and helpless, separated from the man that cared for him.

A choir of children started singing as the priest initiated the service. An old woman was clinging to Robert's arm, sobbing hysterically. Robert was patting her on the shoulder reluctantly.

He had a small, resigned smile on his face. It spoke a lot more than the sobs.

Ariadne put on her own dark shades. She felt a false tear slipping down her cheek (only one) and she wanted to hide it, just in case.

The summer wind was dead.

She thought it would take entire months, maybe a year, before the grave would be deserted. But it happened in three weeks.

In three weeks, she visited most of Los Angeles. Until she was sick of it. Sick of its nice shady trees, its soft, wet beaches, its buildings that would never touch the sky.

Her buildings always touched the sky. It was a given thing. If they didn't, she tore them apart, block by block. Until only cinder was left. And maybe some lost thoughts.

This place, busy as it was, offered her only dark times. There were moments when she simply sat in her hotel room, next to the window, looking at the kidney-shaped pool in the back yard and the airplanes taking off on the runway.

After three weeks, she decided to visit the grave. She bought a dozen red roses and made sure to wear a black dress and black shoes.

She went to see the dead man late in the evening, close to midnight.

Ariadne found no one at the grave. She placed the bouquet in front of his headstone.

She touched the engraved words. Wonderful Father and Extraordinary Leader. Then some bleak numbers that showed the span of his life. There was also a picture of him, smiling expectantly into the camera. He was flashing his teeth it all he was shaking with rage and fear. Had he ever suspected that this picture would crown his grave? When he had taken it ( such a long time ago), had he thought of using this picture for his grave? Had he given any thought to his death and the picture he would use to put on his grave? Had he ever thought it wasn't good enough?

'I wish you could be like we imagined you to be,' she whispered, remembering the dream.

'Excuse me, did you know him?'

She jumped back when she heard the voice. Even though there was only the light from the lamppost some steps away, she knew who he was, because he would be the only one here at this hour, besides her.

'A little bit,' she replied, looking down.

Robert Fischer walked closer to her.

'I haven't seen anyone at his grave for a while,' he said.

'I'm sorry about that,' she whispered.

'At least there is one,' he said smiling sadly, pointing at her. 'Where did you know him from?'

She rummaged her brain for a good enough excuse. The right words wouldn't come to her. She had been silent about it for so long that talking now seemed like an impossible feat.

'I dreamt of him once...after watching him on TV,' she said. It was not a complete lie.

In fact, it was the most honest thing she could tell him.

'You dreamt of him?' he asked, intrigued. He thought it must be some kind of joke.

'Yes. I don't know why. I saw him once or twice, but his eyes stuck to my mind,' she said.

She actually meant what she had said. When she went to bed each night, she saw Robert's sad, watery eyes and his eyes were his father's eyes.

Robert stared at her with the expression of a man that was trying hard to believe what she was saying.

'I was curious why his eyes had such a powerful effect, so I tried to know more about him. I wanted to talk to him. Then I found out he died. So I came to show my regrets,' she replied.

Robert frowned, unable to say anything to that. It seemed to honest to be doubted. A part of him wanted to know more about her.

'You brought red roses. And you are wearing black,' he observed.

'Yes, I guess I was late for the funeral,' she mumbled.

'I'm his son, Robert Fischer,' he said extending his hand. She took it hesitantly and shook it.

'I guessed as much. You have his eyes,' she observed, nodding.

He held her hand in his, mystified.

'And you are?'

'Ariadne,' she replied.

He waited patiently for her last name. But it never really came. Maybe she whispered it, he couldn't tell. Just when he was about to ask her she opened her mouth.

'I think I have to go now. But it was nice meeting you,' she said, smiling. He saw her teeth glittering in the soft light but nothing else. He wanted to see her face.

She walked away and he followed her. When they reached the corner of the street he could finally see her auburn hair and her large dark eyes, that expression of curiosity mixed with kindness, the inexistent but yet persistent smile at the corner of her lip.

Her face reminded him of something comforting. He remembered seeing that face in a dream.

Just like she had seen his father's eyes.

'Wait,' he said grabbing her arm. 'Would you...like to get some coffee?'

'Um, I don't think...'

'I'd just like to talk to someone. I haven't done that in...months.'

'Oh, you need to talk to someone?' she asked, kindness seeping into her voice again. 'But I'm a stranger. You know nothing about me.'

'You're the only other person who has visited him in a while,' he said pointing at the grave. 'I'd rather talk to you.'

She shuffled her feet.

Robert's grief was doing strange things to him. In the beginning, he couldn't even share a cab with a stranger and now he wanted to go have coffee with one.

'Really? Because I might bore you.'

He had heard that line before. He just couldn't remember where.

'I doubt you could. So... how about coffee, on me?'

'I prefer tea,' she replied meekly, holding on to her black scarf like it was the last pole before the tornado came and whisked her away.

'Tea is good with me,' he replied, not smiling, just smiling with his eyes.

They slowly walked away from the graveyard into the dark, summer wind that was dead.

The city had its lights on.