drear | OPEN SEASON 2.

...no.

[ It's a lie, but Heine makes the pause long enough to pretend that it isn't one. He always builds a way out into his architecture, even if it's hidden and involves a force kick anyway. As they continue, Heine's lips press together and his steps speed up. ]

I made it hidden, but this is—fucking ridiculous.

[ Aggravated now, he speedwalks to the end of the next hall and stops, staring at the door. He dreamed it, but in an emergency, he has to rethink it. After a pause, during which footsteps overhead stop, he turns around to go back toward the door they came through. The material of it has changed to dark green plastic—a utility door, not a janitor's, but it'll do.

Through it is a final, dimly lit stairwell down to a landing so bright that it's blinding by contrast. Heine hurries down the steps and almost sighs in relief when he sees the small waiting area before a door marked PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE, a window in the back of the room looking back on the outside. ]

Here.

[Most architectures worth their salt know better than to not leave a passageway out or to not put in place a few short cuts just in case the worst scenario happens. He wasn't sure if perhaps this man didn't have as much experience as he had initially led Eames to believe or if he was lying.

He was more than relieved when it was the latter, following Heine down the stairwell, clapping the other man on the shoulder briefly once the principle's office, grinning. While they weren't home free by any stretch, at least they were here.]

Here we go.

[He opened the door warily, sighing slightly. Empty, but that didn't mean they had time to mess around.]

Let's get the information if it's actually here and get out.

[ Heine twitches away from the friendly gesture, but as they enter the principal's office he's back to business, starting to rifle through the desk drawers. ]

Should be in a labeled file.

[ There are a hell of a lot of files, though, and Heine's expression darkens as he finds more and more of them. ]

[The twitch didn't go unnoticed, and Eames would make sure to refrain from such gestures later on. He wasn't half as nice when it came to finding the files, instead, rifling through things quickly, tossing them out onto the floor if it wasn't what they were looking for. Considering they might be caught by projections or perhaps other dream-sharers, time was of the essence.]

There may not be a file. If this was a set up, we might be wasting time.

[What a very optimistic thing to say, but he was still going to look just in case.]

There should be something in here—

[ Heine grumbles again, tossing a file out and almost crawling under the desk to reach the back of the drawer. Finally, he sees one that's different from the rest.

He grabs it and flips through it. ]

Found it. [ Holding it to his chest, Heine stands up, looking around quickly. ] But if Elena gets it—

What does it say?

[As soon as Heine said he found the file, Eames was over his shoulder, peering down at it. Words like 'state secrets' or 'classified: top secret' did not belong in the mind of a school teacher, and Eames was nearly kicking himself for believing that cover story.]

Rip it up as we run, we need to get out of here.

[The footsteps of the projections were loud as booming thunder at this point.]

Stuff.

[ He can't read that fast. Heine snaps it shut almost as soon as Eames speaks, taking out a few pages and holding the rest under his arm and standing up again. ]

They're too close. We can't outrun them— [ Looking around, Heine moves toward the window. ]

C'mon. Out here.

[The suggestion wasn't a bad one, except that when Eames pushed open the windows, instead of being on the ground floor or even one charitable floor up, they were on the sixth floor. Shit.]

Any rope?

[No, of course not, it was a principle's office. Instead, he grabbed at the nearest piece of furniture, already imaging it as rope in his hands, tying it around the sturdiest looking desk. No point in trying to be subtle when the projections were already onto them.]

I'll go first or find your own way down.

[Without waiting for an answer, he was already sliding down as fast as possible.]

I'm coming—

[ Eames is already going. Dammit. Heine almost complains, but he's more practical instead, closing the door and jamming a chair under the knob. Eames is maybe a floor down when Heine follows, climbing out the window and starting to skid his way down, rope burn immediately streaking his hands.

But it's an escape route. Even though, as they're passing the third floor, a burst of bullets sprays through the window. ]

[The burst of bullets was going to make Eames swear colorfully under his breath as he tried to speed up the process without his hands protesting too much, but a few bullets grazed at his legs.

As he hit the ground he took shelter underneath a nearby awning, waiting for Heine to get the rest of the way, trying to fire back at the projections.]

It might be best if we do get caught! We'd wake up then!

[He couldn't trust Elena to wake them up, after all.]

[ Heine jumps down the rest of the way, hissing in pain when he lands hard and his leg buckles. It's not broken, but his ankle protests as he stumbles under the awning as well. ]

And then what? Elena's still there.

If the both of us can't take Elena, we might have to consider a new profession.

[Though they might be sluggish upon waking, doubly so if Elena had tampered with the sedative at all.

He glanced over at Heine, mouth in a thin grim line.]

It's better than dodging these projections, unless you have a better idea?

...no. Fine.

[ So now's the problem of waking up. Heine glances around briefly. The sound of the projections is rising again. Despite his best instincts, Heine starts to move toward them. Getting shot always sucks, but at least it'll be quick. ]

Be ready for Elena when you wake.

[Eames called out cheerfully after Heine as he seemed to choose getting shot by projections instead of taking matters into his own hands. Understandable. Even if it was a dream, some people had difficulty shooting themselves.

It had been a long time since Eames had that problem, and the pain was minimal after he pulled the trigger, eyes opening slowly as he woke, mouth cotton dry, awareness spreading sluggishly to his limbs. So the compound had been tampered with a bit then, but why?

The room seemed to be empty of anyone but their subject and Heine, but even so, Eames quietly detached himself from the PASIV device, winding it around his knuckles slowly as he tried to orient himself. It looked like the subject's house, but where was Elena?]

[ Heine waves a hand back in acknowledgement. He wakes up a little after Eames, jerking upright in his seat with sharp intake of breath. He works quickly to take the PASIV needle out, shuddering a little at the feeling of it leaving his body. ]

The teacher— [ Well, she's probably not really a teacher. Heine looks at her, then back at the PASIV device. They could just leave it on for now; the drugs should keep her under for long enough. ] —where's Elena?

She can't have gone far.

[His head felt too groggy to figure out when the tremors had started in the dreamscape and calculate it into real world time, and he glanced around the room for any sort of noticeable traps or weapons. Nothing.

Straightening, he padded over to the window, squinting out of it.]

Her car is still here- fuck!

[He ducked down again in time to just miss getting shot in the face by the woman in question, glancing over at Heine.]

I can play decoy if you want to try and snag her before she runs.

[ Heine twitches when glass shatters, rolling out of his seat so he's crouched down and out of sight. ]

Your trust in me is really touching.

[ He's surprised Eames doesn't suspect he'll just run given the opportunity. But Heine wants to get back at Elena, too, and he nods. He takes his gun out of where he'd hidden it after arriving at the house, keeping low to the ground before getting a quick look out at the lay of the parking lot. ]

...right. [ Heine jerks his head at the door. Time to get out there, Eames. ]

Unless you want to switch?

[Eames wasn't above using deadly force in dreams, but reality was a much different story. If he didn't have to, he'd take the path of with the least amount of violence. 'Trust' was probably the last word that came to mind, but if that's what Heine wanted to believe, Eames wouldn't fault him.

He followed the other man cautiously, digging into his pocket. Maybe Elena had been in a rush or had gotten sloppy, but he still had the key to his rental vehicle, just in case they needed to give chase.]

After you.

[He wasn't the one who was armed, after all.]

[ Heine barely has to think about it before shaking his head. If someone's going to be holding a gun, it'll be him.

At the door, he takes only a moment to judge distances, and to glance back at Eames to make certain he's ready before he says— ] Now [ —and fires once, at Elena's car window, before stepping out into the lot. ]

[Not needing to be told twice, Eames was already in the parking lot, head down as he headed straight to his car. He heard Elena returning fire as she quickly ducked into her own vehicle, her car starting up.]

Heine!

[Unlocking his vehicle, he got in just in time to see Elena peeling out, and cursing under his breath, he drove up to the other man, waiting for him to get in. His expression was focused and serious, a small scowl on his face.]

We need her alive.

[It may be some sentimental thoughts talking, but also his need for answers. He had gotten along with Elena just fine until all of this. He wondered what would have made her sell him, or Heine, out so quickly or what her motives had been.]

[ Heine keeps his gun up and aimed, popping off another shot and hitting a tire. The bullet isn't large enough caliber to puncture it completely, but it's enough to at least slow the car down. ]

Do we?

[ It's sort of rhetorical, but not really. Heine gets into the passenger seat and slams the door shut before they chase after her car. ]

She has to have information stored somewhere.

I would prefer not to murder someone, if we can help it.

[The words came out pretty dryly, ducking as Elena fired a few wayward shots out the window towards them, cursing creatively under his breath.]

Yes, probably in her mind.

Yeah, yeah.

[ Heine stays low in his seat, but peers out long enough to get a better look at Elena's car. The side on which the tire he'd shot is seems slightly lower than before, but he can't be certain yet. ]

Get in closer. —you mean you want to Dreamshare with her?

[Since Heine was so generous in complying with his request, Eames floored it to try and close the distance between their cars, weaving in and out of traffic recklessly.

It was a while before he answered, he was so focused on his task.]

Not necessarily 'want' to but it might be the quickest way to get an honest answer. It's not without its risks though. Elena is highly trained and will know we're there as soon as we get there.

[ Heine grunts in agreement, leaning slightly out the side window so he can get a better look at the car. He fires off another shot, clipping the side mirror. ]

Or we could just convince her.

[ Through violence, is the implication. ]

I ALSO FORGET SOME INCEPTION LOGIC THINGS... SRY

do not worry who needs logic

definitely not inception

definitely not but sssh you can steal things from people's minds

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