Inception: Like a Stone
Title: Like a Stone
Author: Vashti (tvashti)
Fandom: Inception
Character(s): Arthur
Rating: PG
Summary: The day the die landed wrong.
Length: ~470
comment-fic Prompt: Inception, Arthur, the day the die landed wrong.
Disclaimer: I don't know you. You don't know me. Let's keep it that way.
Dedication: written for lilpocketninja’s comment-fic prompt.
Notes: This didn’t exactly go where I wanted it to. In fact it started in several different places before landing here, but I’m actually pretty happy with this. I may write more though.
§§§
Like a Stone
by Vashti
If nothing else, he is himself. So when Arthur's six-sided die comes up six that morning instead of teetering on two, landing on three, he doesn't panic. Not outwardly. He doesn't even pause.
His heart does skip -- painfully. His palms are moist and there's a fine tremor in his hands, but it's not something anyone watching him would notice. He scoops up the offensive red die and goes into the bathroom as if it is his die, his bathroom.
He dresses quickly, efficiently. Nothing strange. Makes his coffee and reviews his emails, though it's little more than gibberish on the page.
So he's the dreamer. Not a move he would have recommended.
His throat all but closes when he tries to drink his coffee, but he forces himself to it, carefully gripping the cup against the wetness of his hand.
He is himself. He is calm. He is precise. He is dependable. Now is not the time to break, though his mind is racing, moving faster than any real computer could.
The first question is, of course, who has put him under. The second, what do they want to know. He could just shoot himself. His ribs rise and fall against the holster of his gun, a new one he's created for himself, with every breath. He could make this all disappear. But he isn’t sure what’s waiting on the other side.
They had come for him while he was actually asleep, then.
And there is so much more at stake now: not just Cobb and the kids, but Ariadne back in school, and Yusuf returned to his quiet shop in Mombasa... He and Mr. Eames are the only ones in the game right now. Saito knows enough, has enough cash, to protect himself.
He drains the last of his coffee, stands and washes the cup carefully. He glances at the small LCD clock/calendar on the counter out of habit. It's supposed to be Wednesday. And now he remembers. He's to meet with Mr. Eames today. Arthur has a job lined up that could do with a skilled forger if he’s available.
Arthur clenches his jaw. He leaves the laptop up, grabs keys he doesn't need and walks out the door. His hands are dry now, though his heart goes a mile a minute. Adrenaline, he knows, is what's making everything so crisp. His elderly neighbors wave good morning but he ignores them. He can feel their malevolence as he passes. Arthur never ignores his neighbors.
But he's about to meet a man about a thing -- an inferior forger, he suspects. Arthur's steps quicken. He's decided he doesn't want out of this dream so quickly after all. The only thing he regrets is that, when he does press the trigger, he won’t be there to watch the world collapse on these bastards.
[in]Fin[ite]
Author: Vashti (tvashti)
Fandom: Inception
Character(s): Arthur
Rating: PG
Summary: The day the die landed wrong.
Length: ~470
comment-fic Prompt: Inception, Arthur, the day the die landed wrong.
Disclaimer: I don't know you. You don't know me. Let's keep it that way.
Dedication: written for lilpocketninja’s comment-fic prompt.
Notes: This didn’t exactly go where I wanted it to. In fact it started in several different places before landing here, but I’m actually pretty happy with this. I may write more though.
§§§
Like a Stone
by Vashti
If nothing else, he is himself. So when Arthur's six-sided die comes up six that morning instead of teetering on two, landing on three, he doesn't panic. Not outwardly. He doesn't even pause.
His heart does skip -- painfully. His palms are moist and there's a fine tremor in his hands, but it's not something anyone watching him would notice. He scoops up the offensive red die and goes into the bathroom as if it is his die, his bathroom.
He dresses quickly, efficiently. Nothing strange. Makes his coffee and reviews his emails, though it's little more than gibberish on the page.
So he's the dreamer. Not a move he would have recommended.
His throat all but closes when he tries to drink his coffee, but he forces himself to it, carefully gripping the cup against the wetness of his hand.
He is himself. He is calm. He is precise. He is dependable. Now is not the time to break, though his mind is racing, moving faster than any real computer could.
The first question is, of course, who has put him under. The second, what do they want to know. He could just shoot himself. His ribs rise and fall against the holster of his gun, a new one he's created for himself, with every breath. He could make this all disappear. But he isn’t sure what’s waiting on the other side.
They had come for him while he was actually asleep, then.
And there is so much more at stake now: not just Cobb and the kids, but Ariadne back in school, and Yusuf returned to his quiet shop in Mombasa... He and Mr. Eames are the only ones in the game right now. Saito knows enough, has enough cash, to protect himself.
He drains the last of his coffee, stands and washes the cup carefully. He glances at the small LCD clock/calendar on the counter out of habit. It's supposed to be Wednesday. And now he remembers. He's to meet with Mr. Eames today. Arthur has a job lined up that could do with a skilled forger if he’s available.
Arthur clenches his jaw. He leaves the laptop up, grabs keys he doesn't need and walks out the door. His hands are dry now, though his heart goes a mile a minute. Adrenaline, he knows, is what's making everything so crisp. His elderly neighbors wave good morning but he ignores them. He can feel their malevolence as he passes. Arthur never ignores his neighbors.
But he's about to meet a man about a thing -- an inferior forger, he suspects. Arthur's steps quicken. He's decided he doesn't want out of this dream so quickly after all. The only thing he regrets is that, when he does press the trigger, he won’t be there to watch the world collapse on these bastards.
[in]Fin[ite]