Re: [Dream Training]
Hannah wasn't sure she understood what it meant to dream pieces of the puzzle together, not at all, and she looked confused, the little bird with ear pressed to shoulder and cornflower blue blinking as she tried to turn the words around, tried to make them dance the right steps in her mind. Pirouette, pirouette, and that wasn't right, and she knew it wasn't right.
"I know people go to the Dream Center to dream, in the basement, in secret, and it's like this," she said, waiting for Arthur to finish, her head straightening and quiet as she considered what they'd each said. "The subject is whoever you're trying to extract something from? Something in their head, or the safe, if we're meaning a real safe? And they think they're the dreamer, but they're not really? So the architect creates the space, and the space is supposed to let them lead whoever the real dreamer is, us, you, to the safe? And to the information there?" It was rambling thought, an attempt to piece things together. Amy had never been expected to be smart. A bauble, she'd never really cultivated anything but a smile, and Hannah was Amy, mostly, and it was a different way of thinking.
"But isn't it counterproductive?" she asked, lying back after the needle was in her arm, "if you need to put a needle into someone to get information from them while they sleep?" She closed her eyes as she waited, and Hannah didn't dream naturally, but she assumed she just need to wait. "Is there something in here to make us fall asleep?" she asked, hoping there was and waiting for whatever was dripping into the tubing to do its work. She thought about the fact that Eames must actually trust Arthur, deep down and somewhere, somewhere, if he trusted Arthur to watch over him while he slept.