Hold On As Long As You Can
Title: Hold On As Long As You Can
Pairing: Arthur/Cobb
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Based on this prompt from the kink meme "arthur gets badly hurt during a job (bonus points if mal's the culprit!) but doesn't tell anyone, even as he gets progressively weaker deeper into the dreamscape. you can choose what happens next, and if, by the time cobb figures it out, it's too late. i just want major whumpage + stoic, badass!arthur! double bonus points for unrequited love / ust on arthur's part, and a happy ending!"
Two levels down and knee deep in swamp water probably isn’t the best time for Arthur to make Cobb aware of his predicament. They’re making their way through generic rice fields in Vietnam, trying to extract old war secrets for a grandson that wants to sell his grandpa’s legacy to Hollywood studios. The army fatigues are uncomfortable, the weaponry is unreliable and this whole place smelled. Arthur hates it, but the pulsing pain in his lower back does a great job in keeping his mind off it.
He should have been more careful. He knew Mal was around more often than not, but he didn’t expect an ice pick to the kidney. At least he thinks she hit a kidney. It felt like she hit a kidney. He’s grateful for his black suit as it hid the blossoming dark blood long enough for Cobb and him to keep on schedule and go down into the second level of dreaming, but he’s sure that Nash must’ve noticed he’s bleeding out by now.
The puncture wound is reasonably small if deep and Arthur figures he has enough time down here to complete the job before bleeding out completely up above. It’s not like he’s ever calculated dream time in liters per hour before but-
“Look out!” Cobb slams into him and suddenly the world is a brown swirling mess of swamp water, mud and gun fire. Arthur inhales a lungful of muck. Even as he’s retching he surfaces, crouched low and looking for enemy fire. Cobb nudges him further into the tall grass and a moment later the gunfire stops.
“I counted four.” Arthur whispers to Cobb and he puts his gun away. “Gun shots will give us away. Stay low, I’ll clear our way.” Before Cobb can protest Arthur goes after the projections. His reflexes are slower than normal and the knife feels heavy in his hands but it still finds its mark again and again. The projections gurgle and die at Arthur’s feet, the blood mixing with the brown water.
The exertion makes him keenly aware of the red hot pain in his back that’s spreading out through his body slowly but ruthlessly, leaving certain parts numb and cold. He’s winded and stumbling by the time he sloshes back over to Cobb. He gives a single nod and they continue on their way.
Cobb takes lead.
At one point, Arthur isn’t sure when, he looses his knife. His fingers went too numb to hold on to it anymore and it disappeared somewhere in the water. So focused on that fact, it’s not until Arthur runs right into Cobb’s back that he realizes the other man has stopped moving. Unable to catch himself he grabs at Cobb and tears them both down into the water with an undignified splash.
“Jesus, Arthur, watch where you’re- Arthur?” Cobb’s hands are on him and they’re dragging him out of the water. He tries to get his feet under him, but now that he’s fallen Arthur’s body has decided that it would much rather stay down. He notes the red swirls mixing with the brown. The bleeding must have started.
“Arthur?” The shake in Cobb’s voice makes Arthur look up. Concern is etched into the extractors face. “What happened?”
“Stabbed.” Arthur forces out, grabbing at Cobb again and for a second he thinks his legs might cooperate but a moment later they give out under him anyway. Cobb’s arms around him are the only things that keep him from going underwater again and he feels himself being cradled.
“Where?” Cobb asks, his hands already searching Arthur’s body. Arthur sees him wince in sympathy as he finds the wound. Arthur barely feels it. “When you went after those projections?’
Arthur shakes his head. “One up. Mal.” The part of his brain that’s still functioning notices that his teeth are shattering. With a start he realizes he’s freezing.
A familiar look flashes over Cobb’s face, one of regret and guilt. Then he frowns down at Arthur. “You’re bleeding out in the chair one level up?” when Arthur nods he frowns deeper. “We gotta wake you up.”
“No. I can keep it together. You go finish the job.” When Cobb tries to protest Arthur takes a hold of his jaw firmly, or what he hopes is firmly. “Go finish the job, Dom, I’ll keep the dream going as long as I can.”
Arthur expects Cobb to keep arguing, but the older man nods and next thing Arthur knows he’s being dragged and propped up against a tree trunk. He doesn’t ask where the massive oak tree came from.
“I won’t be long.” Cobb promises as he presses a handgun into Arthur’s hands.
“I’ll be here.” Arthur answers and offers Cobb a thin smile. Cobb’s fingers are gentle as they ghost down his face and his lips are soft as they press against the side of Arthur’s lips.
Then he’s gone and Arthur is alone.
---
Arthur forces his eyes open as he hears crashing footsteps splash their way towards him. He doesn’t remember having closed his eyes. Doesn’t know how long he’s been out. The gun is a dead weight in his hands and suddenly two projections are on him. A hand is in his hair, forcing his head underwater as a knee drives into his back. He screams his pain into the water, surprised he can still feel anything at all besides the numb.
How long was he out? Did Cobb finish the job yet? No way of knowing. Has to hold on as long as he can.
He raises the gun, not sure where to aim and fires blind until the clip is empty. Suddenly the weight is off him and he drags his head out of water, gasping in air. But then the hands are back and he’s spun around, disoriented, doesn’t know which way is up or down. Knuckles connect with his nose and he vaguely feels fingers wrap around his neck, forcing his head under water again.
Has to hold on as long as he can. Maybe a few minutes before he drowns. Hopes it’s enough time.
Good luck, Dom.
---
Arthur wakes up to a dull ache in his lower back. He blinks up at the cracked ceiling, mind trying to orient itself. He’s not where he went to sleep. With a start he sits up, hands going for the gun he carries, but he’s unarmed.
“It’s okay, you’re on my bed.”
Arthur looks over and his eyes focus on Cobb sitting in a chair, slowly working away at a bottle of scotch. Cobb’s bed? Then the facts all click back into place. Prague. Hotel. Cobb’s room. Right.
“How did I get to your room?” Arthur asks as he rubs at the phantom pain in his back.
“I carried you.” Cobb drains the glass and gets up, hands going into his pockets as he looks at Arthur. “You were out for two hours.”
Arthur frowns and his own hand goes into his pocket, his fingers close around his die. “Two hours?”
Cobb nods. “Ya, we don’t know why.”
“Did you get the information?” He asks and Cobb frowns.
“Ya, I did.” He steps forward and leans down so he’s right in Arthur’s face. “Never do that again. If you’re hurt you let me know.”
“We didn’t have time to-“
“You were unconscious for two hours. A fucking Hollywood movie isn’t worth you risking yourself like that.” Cobb hisses out and Arthur wrinkles his nose slightly at the strong smell of alcohol. They stare at each other in silence a moment before Cobb takes a hold of his jaw, hand surprisingly gentle. “Never do that again, you hear me?”
“Okay.” Arthur agrees with a nod and Cobb leans in to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.
“Good.” Cobb straightens up again and his fingers caress Arthur’s jaw a moment. “You can stay here tonight if you want.”
With an internal sigh Arthur lets himself drop back onto the bed. He pillows his head on his arms and stares at the cracks in the ceiling again. “Fine, but I’m not getting off the bed.”
He turns over surprised as the bed shifts and Cobb lies down next to him, facing him.
“That’s fine.”
Pairing: Arthur/Cobb
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Based on this prompt from the kink meme "arthur gets badly hurt during a job (bonus points if mal's the culprit!) but doesn't tell anyone, even as he gets progressively weaker deeper into the dreamscape. you can choose what happens next, and if, by the time cobb figures it out, it's too late. i just want major whumpage + stoic, badass!arthur! double bonus points for unrequited love / ust on arthur's part, and a happy ending!"
Two levels down and knee deep in swamp water probably isn’t the best time for Arthur to make Cobb aware of his predicament. They’re making their way through generic rice fields in Vietnam, trying to extract old war secrets for a grandson that wants to sell his grandpa’s legacy to Hollywood studios. The army fatigues are uncomfortable, the weaponry is unreliable and this whole place smelled. Arthur hates it, but the pulsing pain in his lower back does a great job in keeping his mind off it.
He should have been more careful. He knew Mal was around more often than not, but he didn’t expect an ice pick to the kidney. At least he thinks she hit a kidney. It felt like she hit a kidney. He’s grateful for his black suit as it hid the blossoming dark blood long enough for Cobb and him to keep on schedule and go down into the second level of dreaming, but he’s sure that Nash must’ve noticed he’s bleeding out by now.
The puncture wound is reasonably small if deep and Arthur figures he has enough time down here to complete the job before bleeding out completely up above. It’s not like he’s ever calculated dream time in liters per hour before but-
“Look out!” Cobb slams into him and suddenly the world is a brown swirling mess of swamp water, mud and gun fire. Arthur inhales a lungful of muck. Even as he’s retching he surfaces, crouched low and looking for enemy fire. Cobb nudges him further into the tall grass and a moment later the gunfire stops.
“I counted four.” Arthur whispers to Cobb and he puts his gun away. “Gun shots will give us away. Stay low, I’ll clear our way.” Before Cobb can protest Arthur goes after the projections. His reflexes are slower than normal and the knife feels heavy in his hands but it still finds its mark again and again. The projections gurgle and die at Arthur’s feet, the blood mixing with the brown water.
The exertion makes him keenly aware of the red hot pain in his back that’s spreading out through his body slowly but ruthlessly, leaving certain parts numb and cold. He’s winded and stumbling by the time he sloshes back over to Cobb. He gives a single nod and they continue on their way.
Cobb takes lead.
At one point, Arthur isn’t sure when, he looses his knife. His fingers went too numb to hold on to it anymore and it disappeared somewhere in the water. So focused on that fact, it’s not until Arthur runs right into Cobb’s back that he realizes the other man has stopped moving. Unable to catch himself he grabs at Cobb and tears them both down into the water with an undignified splash.
“Jesus, Arthur, watch where you’re- Arthur?” Cobb’s hands are on him and they’re dragging him out of the water. He tries to get his feet under him, but now that he’s fallen Arthur’s body has decided that it would much rather stay down. He notes the red swirls mixing with the brown. The bleeding must have started.
“Arthur?” The shake in Cobb’s voice makes Arthur look up. Concern is etched into the extractors face. “What happened?”
“Stabbed.” Arthur forces out, grabbing at Cobb again and for a second he thinks his legs might cooperate but a moment later they give out under him anyway. Cobb’s arms around him are the only things that keep him from going underwater again and he feels himself being cradled.
“Where?” Cobb asks, his hands already searching Arthur’s body. Arthur sees him wince in sympathy as he finds the wound. Arthur barely feels it. “When you went after those projections?’
Arthur shakes his head. “One up. Mal.” The part of his brain that’s still functioning notices that his teeth are shattering. With a start he realizes he’s freezing.
A familiar look flashes over Cobb’s face, one of regret and guilt. Then he frowns down at Arthur. “You’re bleeding out in the chair one level up?” when Arthur nods he frowns deeper. “We gotta wake you up.”
“No. I can keep it together. You go finish the job.” When Cobb tries to protest Arthur takes a hold of his jaw firmly, or what he hopes is firmly. “Go finish the job, Dom, I’ll keep the dream going as long as I can.”
Arthur expects Cobb to keep arguing, but the older man nods and next thing Arthur knows he’s being dragged and propped up against a tree trunk. He doesn’t ask where the massive oak tree came from.
“I won’t be long.” Cobb promises as he presses a handgun into Arthur’s hands.
“I’ll be here.” Arthur answers and offers Cobb a thin smile. Cobb’s fingers are gentle as they ghost down his face and his lips are soft as they press against the side of Arthur’s lips.
Then he’s gone and Arthur is alone.
---
Arthur forces his eyes open as he hears crashing footsteps splash their way towards him. He doesn’t remember having closed his eyes. Doesn’t know how long he’s been out. The gun is a dead weight in his hands and suddenly two projections are on him. A hand is in his hair, forcing his head underwater as a knee drives into his back. He screams his pain into the water, surprised he can still feel anything at all besides the numb.
How long was he out? Did Cobb finish the job yet? No way of knowing. Has to hold on as long as he can.
He raises the gun, not sure where to aim and fires blind until the clip is empty. Suddenly the weight is off him and he drags his head out of water, gasping in air. But then the hands are back and he’s spun around, disoriented, doesn’t know which way is up or down. Knuckles connect with his nose and he vaguely feels fingers wrap around his neck, forcing his head under water again.
Has to hold on as long as he can. Maybe a few minutes before he drowns. Hopes it’s enough time.
Good luck, Dom.
---
Arthur wakes up to a dull ache in his lower back. He blinks up at the cracked ceiling, mind trying to orient itself. He’s not where he went to sleep. With a start he sits up, hands going for the gun he carries, but he’s unarmed.
“It’s okay, you’re on my bed.”
Arthur looks over and his eyes focus on Cobb sitting in a chair, slowly working away at a bottle of scotch. Cobb’s bed? Then the facts all click back into place. Prague. Hotel. Cobb’s room. Right.
“How did I get to your room?” Arthur asks as he rubs at the phantom pain in his back.
“I carried you.” Cobb drains the glass and gets up, hands going into his pockets as he looks at Arthur. “You were out for two hours.”
Arthur frowns and his own hand goes into his pocket, his fingers close around his die. “Two hours?”
Cobb nods. “Ya, we don’t know why.”
“Did you get the information?” He asks and Cobb frowns.
“Ya, I did.” He steps forward and leans down so he’s right in Arthur’s face. “Never do that again. If you’re hurt you let me know.”
“We didn’t have time to-“
“You were unconscious for two hours. A fucking Hollywood movie isn’t worth you risking yourself like that.” Cobb hisses out and Arthur wrinkles his nose slightly at the strong smell of alcohol. They stare at each other in silence a moment before Cobb takes a hold of his jaw, hand surprisingly gentle. “Never do that again, you hear me?”
“Okay.” Arthur agrees with a nod and Cobb leans in to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.
“Good.” Cobb straightens up again and his fingers caress Arthur’s jaw a moment. “You can stay here tonight if you want.”
With an internal sigh Arthur lets himself drop back onto the bed. He pillows his head on his arms and stares at the cracks in the ceiling again. “Fine, but I’m not getting off the bed.”
He turns over surprised as the bed shifts and Cobb lies down next to him, facing him.
“That’s fine.”