A Man of Courage Chapter 1
Title: A Man of Courage
Summary: Inception KM Prompt: Eames is hurt on the job and Arthur is left to play mother hen. Set post-movie.
Charaters: Eames, Arthur, Dom, Ariadne, Yusuf, Mark Stanford
Pairings: Eames/Arthur
Ratings: NC-17 for mentions of rape.
Words: 3,565
A/N: The title comes from the quote; "A man of courage is also full of faith" by Marcus Tillius Cicero. This is my first Inception ff so please let me know how it is. Beta'ed by the lovely obsessionful
It wasn't his fault. It wasn't. Eames was a big boy and could take care of himself and he didn't need to hover over him. Arthur had warned the man that the mark had training, as if the attacking projections were not enough of a warning, and to be careful. Naturally, the man had laughed it off and told him to relax in that lilting accent of his. It infuriated him to no end that the man couldn't take anything seriously, but in the end there was nothing he could do, even though he did beg Cobb to switch jobs with him. Actually, he preferred murderous projections with high powered weapons chasing him all over the city than sitting and watching Eames have a heart-to-heart with their mark. If he had pushed the issue a little harder, then maybe it wouldn't have happened.
How was he to know, as he sat at the counter inconspicuously watching the mark and Eames’ blond, curvaceous figure, that it was all a set up. That the man was on to them from the start. And that he had no intentions of letting them get out.
The first sign that something was wrong was when their mark, a high powered and rather ruthless CEO of some company of a whole sale food store by the name of Mark Stanford, laid a hand on Eames. At first it seemed innocent enough, but then Stanford's hand gripped on the hand tightened and when the blond tried to pull away, he simply clung even tighter. Though Arthur may not have gotten along well with the con man, he would not stand by and let his team be handled in such a way when it was within his power to stop it. While technically his job was only research of the mark and to help with the actual theft Arthur considered himself to be the team muscle, funny considering he was physically the smallest minus Ariadne. Out of the team, he was the only one with real combat training, and excelled in hand to hand combat. If anyone had to get roughed up on the mission, it should be him.
He stood up, but that was enough. The mark's head turned towards him and Arthur understood: it was a trick to get him to give himself away. No projection would come to the aid of an intruder. The blond woman who was Eames turned to look at him, wide-eyed, as he, too, figured out the trick. Barely a moment passed, but it seemed much longer as the three looked at each other.
And then Arthur was falling.
The floor opened beneath his feet and down down down he went. If he had to estimate he would guess he would say he only fell two floors but all he knew for sure was that it hurt. When he landed he screamed as one of his legs shattered on impact. Arthur writhed on the floor, clutching his injured limb tightly. His breath was harsh and ragged as he struggled to control his breathing and his pain. Once he has some semblance of control, he cracked his eyes open and looked around his landing point. It looked just like every other hotel room in the place save for no door or window. Looking up, he could see that the hole he dropped through had closed up and he was, in fact, trapped.
He still had his gun, and it would be easy enough to pop himself and wake up but he couldn't in good conscious leave Eames. Even though he disliked the man he was a member of his team and he looked after his team members, always. Using the bed he had been so close to but not close enough to actually land on, he pulled himself up, keeping all his weight off his bad leg. As hard as he tried to hold it in, he couldn't help the soft cries of pain that escaped as he tried to hobble his way towards where the door should have been.
Arthur fell against the dresser and used it to hold himself up while his other hand pulled out his pistol. The one good thing about dreams; unlimited ammo. Chunks of wall went flying as he unloaded into the wall, long after the gun should have run out of bullets. With a now door-shaped hole in the wall he had his exit and hobbled as quickly as he could towards it. He was barely out the 'door' when the projections started swarming. With no more pretenses, he unloaded into them. If they got close enough to get hands on him he was screwed; his combat skills were severely compromised.
It was slow and painful work to hobble to the elevator, leaning heavily on the wall and trying to shoot at projections coming from all sides. They were starting to swarm too close for comfort, when the door opened behind him and he fell in. He fought off the reaching arms as he hit the door close button and couldn't help but go limp when the doors closed and shut him off from the murderous projections. His leg hurt so much and he doubted he would be able to go far once the adrenaline wore off, but he was quickly approaching the next floor so he had to pick himself up and get to work.
By the time the doors opened, Arthur was already on his feet, jacket adjusted, and hair back in its normal place. The only thing out of place was that he was putting all his weight on his good leg and was paler than usual. He limped heavily as he made his way back to where he had last seen Eames and could only be grateful there were no projections in sight. No doubt they had gone to the next floor down to chase after Arthur. Thank God for small favors.
Still, it had taken him a long while to fight his way through the crowd of projections with a bum leg, far too long to leave Eames alone with a sadistic CEO. Hopefully the man had the sense to shoot himself, but that seemed unlikely considering nobody had kicked him awake. Even Eames wouldn't leave him in here if he felt it necessary to kill himself to wake up.
The hotel restaurant was empty, but he knew in which room the mark was staying. His leg wouldn't tolerate any weight and his adrenaline was fading fast: it was only a matter of time until his body gave in despite himself. Arthur grabbed onto the back of each chair he passed as he made his way across the room. His breathing sounded harsh even in his own ears. Maybe that was why he didn't hear the footsteps behind him until he was suddenly lying on his stomach, gasping in pain. Even though his body was quickly giving out around him, he brought his gun up and shot the projection.
The hole in his shoulder was bleeding heavily and he was tempted to kill himself, but he would be damned if he came so far only to end here. With one good arm and one good leg he pushed himself upright and determinedly. His teeth were grit against the pain as he entered the hall and leaned heavily against the wall.
His still bleeding arm left a long bloody streak down the hall and any projection that walked by would have an easy trail to follow. It was getting to be too much for him: the farther he walked the heavier he leaned against the wall and he stumbled more and more. Still, he needed to get his team out. The penthouse was at the end of the hall, but it might as well have been on the other side of the country. Arthur couldn't help the small gasp of pain followed by a louder cry when he slid down the wall and collapsed again the floor in ungraceful pile.
'Get up! Get up!' Arthur yelled in his head but it was to no avail. His eyes were steadily falling closed despite his best efforts. He wasn't sure how long he laid in a hazy half-consciousness and even though he was aware of sudden footsteps heading towards him, he couldn't bring himself to move or even or open his eyes.
It wasn't until a hand gently touched his face that he managed to peel open his eyes. His eyes were blurry and didn't want to focus but finally managed to look up at Eames. The man's face was bloody from what looked like a serious nose bleed but his eyes refused to focus enough for him to see more. “Eames? Are you alright?” His voice came out as little more than a dry croak, but Eames seemed to understand him and nodded. That was good. Arthur's pain addled mind didn't question it or Eames’ unusual silence.
He started push himself upright; it was painful but necessary. His hand fell on Eames' name knee when he tried to push himself upright and the larger man jerked back so suddenly, that Arthur fell back to floor with a sharp gasp. The point man curled in on himself for a moment as he tried to will the pain away. When he opened his eyes again, he looked over at Eames who was staring at him with a expression he could not place.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” he asked, with a slightly pained smile. Eames continued to stare with that odd expression, but again finally nodded.
Finally he got to put his gun to use in the way he had been wanting to do since the fall. “See you on the other side.” He sent Eames back first, and with Eames safe, he could finally put himself out of his misery. Just as he put the barrel to his temple, he heard the door at the end of the hallway open. Mark Stanford stood at the end of the hall staring first at Eames and then moving his eyes to the bloody mess that was Arthur.
Stanford's face was bruised and he had a split lip, but he still had a cocky grin on his face as he approached, walking with slow, measured steps.
“I see you got out of the room. Pity.”
When the man kept getting closer, Arthur turned the gun from his own temple towards him.
“Don't,” the point man warned, but it only made the man grin wider. Stanford stopped, and put his hands up. Arthur knew that he should just wake himself up, but dammit if he wasn't curious.
“You could imagine my shock when your friend here turned out not to be that lovely lady after all. Well, he was still lovely.” The sadistic grin made Arthur want to shiver, but he wouldn't betray his discomfort like that. Instead he kept the gun level and narrowed his eyes at the man. It only seemed to encourage him. “I had hoped to have some time with you as well, such an interesting crew. It makes me curious what the rest of you look like. Yes, I know you're not operating alone. Really, it is too bad; you are a pretty little thing. And young.”
This man was really starting to freak him out. His stomach started to knot up and he felt sick when he thought what the man was insinuating and his lingering eyes confirmed. Arthur wanted nothing more than to make the man suffer, but for the good of the mission he couldn't kill the bastard. It was really tempting, though.
“He wouldn't tell me anything. Maybe you would if I asked nicely.” There was that grin again. It disappeared quickly when Arthur put a bullet through his shoulder. “You little bastard!” Stanford yelled, as he clutched his now bleeding shoulder. “I'm going to fuck that pretty little face of yours up. See if you’re as good as your friend.”
Arthur sent him the darkest look he could muster and raised the gun back to his own temple. He didn't get a chance to pull the trigger.
One second he was giving Stanford the dirtiest look he could muster and the next his eyes snapped open and he was falling backwards. He flailed around in a attempt to keep him balance but it was too late for that. Arthur sprawled out on the floor from the kick and looked around wildly as he tried to readjust to the real world.
There was the normal disorientation of walking up as was well as the added confusion that came with waking up wall falling gracelessly towards the ground. Before he had even fully adjusted, there were hands tugging him up. “Come on, we got to go. Stanford it waking up and Eames took off.” The slight sting of the IV pulling out of his arm helped his mind focus, and he used it to take stock of the situation. Cobb had been the one to pull him off the floor while the rest of the team scrambled to collect their gear. Stanford tossed and turned, in the beginning stages of waking. It would only be a few moments before he woke and the team was panicking.
Eames had taken off as soon as they had awoken, and while the team usually liked to take their marks in transit, today they had been forced to do it in Stanford's hotel room. It was decorated differently than the hotel in the dream had been as well as having a different layout but still it made him uncomfortable to even be around the man especially in a room. If what he suspected happened actually happened, then it was not surprising why Eames had booked it as soon as he was awake. The con man always said Arthur lacked imagination, but he wasn't stupid and could put two and two together.
And just then Stanford woke up.
Oh, and he was armed. Joy. A shot grazed his ear and hit the wall not far from Ariadne's hand. He had to get them out of here. Out of the group Arthur was the only one with official combat training as well as the fact that Ariadne was a woman (what could he say? He as old fashion like that) and Cobb had children to get home to now. He may have been the second youngest member of the team but as far as he was concerned their well being was his responsibility.
Yusuf was crouched behind the arm chair that Cobb had been sitting in, clutching the sliver case to his chest and looking between the gunman and the door. Arthur wasted no time in grabbing the chemist and shoving him towards the door when the man had the sense to run. Cobb could hold his own decently in a fight but Arthur didn't want Cobb in the line of fired against a pissed off sadist. Normally, the extractor was in charge and he let the man do as he pleased, but right then Arthur felt no qualms in more or less throwing Cobb from the room.
Drawing his weapon, he clicked off the safety, and fired a shot back at Stanford. It hit him in the shoulder right where he had previously shot him in the dream. Stanford called him several inappropriate names and yelled threats, but he didn't stick around to listen.
Arthur turned and ran down the hall, hurrying towards his team who were huddling by the elevator doors. When the doors opened, the three of them all but fell inside, and he rushed in after them. He kept his gun poised and ready in case Stanford came after them, but he was pleasantly surprised when the man didn't.
“What do we do now? Eames… he just left. What are we going to do now?” Ariadne sounded frantic and was still huddled in the corner by Yusuf, shaking slightly as she looked among the men.
“We'll head back to the warehouse and start packing up; we need to get out of town and fast.” Dom said quickly, not mentioning Eames and what they would do if they weren't there.
There were was a long silence before Ariadne spoke up. “Arthur, you’re bleeding.”
Dom immediately turned to look at his point man, concern in his eyes. Yusuf looked up as well and pointed to his own ear since Arthur seemed slightly confused by the declaration. The point man raised a hand to his ear and looked shocked at his red stained fingers. His injured side was facing away from Cobb so when the man saw the blood but not the wound he all but jumped on him.
Cobb grabbed Arthur’s face with both hands and turned his head to see for himself. For a few tense moments, Dom examined the injury and Arthur stood still, knowing that that there was no point in arguing with Cobb when he got like this and ever since Dominic got back to his kids, his father-mode kicked into overdrive and started overlapping to the team. The extractor exhaled in relief and pulled a handkerchief from his suit pocket, pressed it to the scratch, and started wiping away the blood. Arthur had to bite back a huff as he was fussed over, but allowed it.
It wasn't until Ariadne giggled that Dom realized what he was doing and stepped away, clearing his throat. “We don't want to attract attention,” he said, and the young woman only grinned while the other two tried to act like nothing happened.
The walk to the car and the drive back to the warehouse were surprisingly uneventful. The team was tense and expecting an attack at any moment. When they arrived, no worse for wear, Yusuf and Ariadne shared nervous chuckles. When they went inside and saw that Eames wasn't there they stopped laughing.
“He probably took off when he realized the job was going south. Every man for himself, just like always.” Dominic said, trying to comfort them as well as remind them that they had to flee as well.
“Right,” Arthur agreed. “We'll split up and meet back up in two weeks.”
The others nodded and Ariadne and Yusuf went off to collect their things. Arthur and Cobb turned towards each other. “Arthur what the hell happened? Yusuf said when Eames came out he gave me the kick then just walked out. Didn't say a word.”
The point man could only sigh and run a hand through his hair while he collected his thoughts. “I don't know,” he said finally. “Stanford knew, and we got separated. Honestly, Cobb, I tried to get to him but I was almost dead when Eames found me. He didn't say anything but I was pretty hazy by that point.” He had never lied straight to Dominic's face before. He found it distasteful, but if his suspicions proved correct, it really wasn't his secret to tell. It took all his self control not to fidget under his friend’s firm gaze, but he held it together until Dom was satisfied and looked away.
“Well, I don't like it. We need to find him before he blows town.”
“I'll find him,” Arthur blurted before he could even fully process the thought. Dom gave him an odd look and nodded. “Look you've got kids to take care of now. You can't go chasing after a rogue thief who specializes in blending in. Go home, and I'll take of it, I promise.”
Again he was subjected to that look, like Cobb was trying to read his mind. “Fine, but when you find him, call me. And for God's sake Arthur, if you think Stanford is onto you, get out.”
“Of course.” The extractor nodded and turned without another word. An hour later Arthur was the only one left in the building.
Summary: Inception KM Prompt: Eames is hurt on the job and Arthur is left to play mother hen. Set post-movie.
Charaters: Eames, Arthur, Dom, Ariadne, Yusuf, Mark Stanford
Pairings: Eames/Arthur
Ratings: NC-17 for mentions of rape.
Words: 3,565
A/N: The title comes from the quote; "A man of courage is also full of faith" by Marcus Tillius Cicero. This is my first Inception ff so please let me know how it is. Beta'ed by the lovely obsessionful
It wasn't his fault. It wasn't. Eames was a big boy and could take care of himself and he didn't need to hover over him. Arthur had warned the man that the mark had training, as if the attacking projections were not enough of a warning, and to be careful. Naturally, the man had laughed it off and told him to relax in that lilting accent of his. It infuriated him to no end that the man couldn't take anything seriously, but in the end there was nothing he could do, even though he did beg Cobb to switch jobs with him. Actually, he preferred murderous projections with high powered weapons chasing him all over the city than sitting and watching Eames have a heart-to-heart with their mark. If he had pushed the issue a little harder, then maybe it wouldn't have happened.
How was he to know, as he sat at the counter inconspicuously watching the mark and Eames’ blond, curvaceous figure, that it was all a set up. That the man was on to them from the start. And that he had no intentions of letting them get out.
The first sign that something was wrong was when their mark, a high powered and rather ruthless CEO of some company of a whole sale food store by the name of Mark Stanford, laid a hand on Eames. At first it seemed innocent enough, but then Stanford's hand gripped on the hand tightened and when the blond tried to pull away, he simply clung even tighter. Though Arthur may not have gotten along well with the con man, he would not stand by and let his team be handled in such a way when it was within his power to stop it. While technically his job was only research of the mark and to help with the actual theft Arthur considered himself to be the team muscle, funny considering he was physically the smallest minus Ariadne. Out of the team, he was the only one with real combat training, and excelled in hand to hand combat. If anyone had to get roughed up on the mission, it should be him.
He stood up, but that was enough. The mark's head turned towards him and Arthur understood: it was a trick to get him to give himself away. No projection would come to the aid of an intruder. The blond woman who was Eames turned to look at him, wide-eyed, as he, too, figured out the trick. Barely a moment passed, but it seemed much longer as the three looked at each other.
And then Arthur was falling.
The floor opened beneath his feet and down down down he went. If he had to estimate he would guess he would say he only fell two floors but all he knew for sure was that it hurt. When he landed he screamed as one of his legs shattered on impact. Arthur writhed on the floor, clutching his injured limb tightly. His breath was harsh and ragged as he struggled to control his breathing and his pain. Once he has some semblance of control, he cracked his eyes open and looked around his landing point. It looked just like every other hotel room in the place save for no door or window. Looking up, he could see that the hole he dropped through had closed up and he was, in fact, trapped.
He still had his gun, and it would be easy enough to pop himself and wake up but he couldn't in good conscious leave Eames. Even though he disliked the man he was a member of his team and he looked after his team members, always. Using the bed he had been so close to but not close enough to actually land on, he pulled himself up, keeping all his weight off his bad leg. As hard as he tried to hold it in, he couldn't help the soft cries of pain that escaped as he tried to hobble his way towards where the door should have been.
Arthur fell against the dresser and used it to hold himself up while his other hand pulled out his pistol. The one good thing about dreams; unlimited ammo. Chunks of wall went flying as he unloaded into the wall, long after the gun should have run out of bullets. With a now door-shaped hole in the wall he had his exit and hobbled as quickly as he could towards it. He was barely out the 'door' when the projections started swarming. With no more pretenses, he unloaded into them. If they got close enough to get hands on him he was screwed; his combat skills were severely compromised.
It was slow and painful work to hobble to the elevator, leaning heavily on the wall and trying to shoot at projections coming from all sides. They were starting to swarm too close for comfort, when the door opened behind him and he fell in. He fought off the reaching arms as he hit the door close button and couldn't help but go limp when the doors closed and shut him off from the murderous projections. His leg hurt so much and he doubted he would be able to go far once the adrenaline wore off, but he was quickly approaching the next floor so he had to pick himself up and get to work.
By the time the doors opened, Arthur was already on his feet, jacket adjusted, and hair back in its normal place. The only thing out of place was that he was putting all his weight on his good leg and was paler than usual. He limped heavily as he made his way back to where he had last seen Eames and could only be grateful there were no projections in sight. No doubt they had gone to the next floor down to chase after Arthur. Thank God for small favors.
Still, it had taken him a long while to fight his way through the crowd of projections with a bum leg, far too long to leave Eames alone with a sadistic CEO. Hopefully the man had the sense to shoot himself, but that seemed unlikely considering nobody had kicked him awake. Even Eames wouldn't leave him in here if he felt it necessary to kill himself to wake up.
The hotel restaurant was empty, but he knew in which room the mark was staying. His leg wouldn't tolerate any weight and his adrenaline was fading fast: it was only a matter of time until his body gave in despite himself. Arthur grabbed onto the back of each chair he passed as he made his way across the room. His breathing sounded harsh even in his own ears. Maybe that was why he didn't hear the footsteps behind him until he was suddenly lying on his stomach, gasping in pain. Even though his body was quickly giving out around him, he brought his gun up and shot the projection.
The hole in his shoulder was bleeding heavily and he was tempted to kill himself, but he would be damned if he came so far only to end here. With one good arm and one good leg he pushed himself upright and determinedly. His teeth were grit against the pain as he entered the hall and leaned heavily against the wall.
His still bleeding arm left a long bloody streak down the hall and any projection that walked by would have an easy trail to follow. It was getting to be too much for him: the farther he walked the heavier he leaned against the wall and he stumbled more and more. Still, he needed to get his team out. The penthouse was at the end of the hall, but it might as well have been on the other side of the country. Arthur couldn't help the small gasp of pain followed by a louder cry when he slid down the wall and collapsed again the floor in ungraceful pile.
'Get up! Get up!' Arthur yelled in his head but it was to no avail. His eyes were steadily falling closed despite his best efforts. He wasn't sure how long he laid in a hazy half-consciousness and even though he was aware of sudden footsteps heading towards him, he couldn't bring himself to move or even or open his eyes.
It wasn't until a hand gently touched his face that he managed to peel open his eyes. His eyes were blurry and didn't want to focus but finally managed to look up at Eames. The man's face was bloody from what looked like a serious nose bleed but his eyes refused to focus enough for him to see more. “Eames? Are you alright?” His voice came out as little more than a dry croak, but Eames seemed to understand him and nodded. That was good. Arthur's pain addled mind didn't question it or Eames’ unusual silence.
He started push himself upright; it was painful but necessary. His hand fell on Eames' name knee when he tried to push himself upright and the larger man jerked back so suddenly, that Arthur fell back to floor with a sharp gasp. The point man curled in on himself for a moment as he tried to will the pain away. When he opened his eyes again, he looked over at Eames who was staring at him with a expression he could not place.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” he asked, with a slightly pained smile. Eames continued to stare with that odd expression, but again finally nodded.
Finally he got to put his gun to use in the way he had been wanting to do since the fall. “See you on the other side.” He sent Eames back first, and with Eames safe, he could finally put himself out of his misery. Just as he put the barrel to his temple, he heard the door at the end of the hallway open. Mark Stanford stood at the end of the hall staring first at Eames and then moving his eyes to the bloody mess that was Arthur.
Stanford's face was bruised and he had a split lip, but he still had a cocky grin on his face as he approached, walking with slow, measured steps.
“I see you got out of the room. Pity.”
When the man kept getting closer, Arthur turned the gun from his own temple towards him.
“Don't,” the point man warned, but it only made the man grin wider. Stanford stopped, and put his hands up. Arthur knew that he should just wake himself up, but dammit if he wasn't curious.
“You could imagine my shock when your friend here turned out not to be that lovely lady after all. Well, he was still lovely.” The sadistic grin made Arthur want to shiver, but he wouldn't betray his discomfort like that. Instead he kept the gun level and narrowed his eyes at the man. It only seemed to encourage him. “I had hoped to have some time with you as well, such an interesting crew. It makes me curious what the rest of you look like. Yes, I know you're not operating alone. Really, it is too bad; you are a pretty little thing. And young.”
This man was really starting to freak him out. His stomach started to knot up and he felt sick when he thought what the man was insinuating and his lingering eyes confirmed. Arthur wanted nothing more than to make the man suffer, but for the good of the mission he couldn't kill the bastard. It was really tempting, though.
“He wouldn't tell me anything. Maybe you would if I asked nicely.” There was that grin again. It disappeared quickly when Arthur put a bullet through his shoulder. “You little bastard!” Stanford yelled, as he clutched his now bleeding shoulder. “I'm going to fuck that pretty little face of yours up. See if you’re as good as your friend.”
Arthur sent him the darkest look he could muster and raised the gun back to his own temple. He didn't get a chance to pull the trigger.
One second he was giving Stanford the dirtiest look he could muster and the next his eyes snapped open and he was falling backwards. He flailed around in a attempt to keep him balance but it was too late for that. Arthur sprawled out on the floor from the kick and looked around wildly as he tried to readjust to the real world.
There was the normal disorientation of walking up as was well as the added confusion that came with waking up wall falling gracelessly towards the ground. Before he had even fully adjusted, there were hands tugging him up. “Come on, we got to go. Stanford it waking up and Eames took off.” The slight sting of the IV pulling out of his arm helped his mind focus, and he used it to take stock of the situation. Cobb had been the one to pull him off the floor while the rest of the team scrambled to collect their gear. Stanford tossed and turned, in the beginning stages of waking. It would only be a few moments before he woke and the team was panicking.
Eames had taken off as soon as they had awoken, and while the team usually liked to take their marks in transit, today they had been forced to do it in Stanford's hotel room. It was decorated differently than the hotel in the dream had been as well as having a different layout but still it made him uncomfortable to even be around the man especially in a room. If what he suspected happened actually happened, then it was not surprising why Eames had booked it as soon as he was awake. The con man always said Arthur lacked imagination, but he wasn't stupid and could put two and two together.
And just then Stanford woke up.
Oh, and he was armed. Joy. A shot grazed his ear and hit the wall not far from Ariadne's hand. He had to get them out of here. Out of the group Arthur was the only one with official combat training as well as the fact that Ariadne was a woman (what could he say? He as old fashion like that) and Cobb had children to get home to now. He may have been the second youngest member of the team but as far as he was concerned their well being was his responsibility.
Yusuf was crouched behind the arm chair that Cobb had been sitting in, clutching the sliver case to his chest and looking between the gunman and the door. Arthur wasted no time in grabbing the chemist and shoving him towards the door when the man had the sense to run. Cobb could hold his own decently in a fight but Arthur didn't want Cobb in the line of fired against a pissed off sadist. Normally, the extractor was in charge and he let the man do as he pleased, but right then Arthur felt no qualms in more or less throwing Cobb from the room.
Drawing his weapon, he clicked off the safety, and fired a shot back at Stanford. It hit him in the shoulder right where he had previously shot him in the dream. Stanford called him several inappropriate names and yelled threats, but he didn't stick around to listen.
Arthur turned and ran down the hall, hurrying towards his team who were huddling by the elevator doors. When the doors opened, the three of them all but fell inside, and he rushed in after them. He kept his gun poised and ready in case Stanford came after them, but he was pleasantly surprised when the man didn't.
“What do we do now? Eames… he just left. What are we going to do now?” Ariadne sounded frantic and was still huddled in the corner by Yusuf, shaking slightly as she looked among the men.
“We'll head back to the warehouse and start packing up; we need to get out of town and fast.” Dom said quickly, not mentioning Eames and what they would do if they weren't there.
There were was a long silence before Ariadne spoke up. “Arthur, you’re bleeding.”
Dom immediately turned to look at his point man, concern in his eyes. Yusuf looked up as well and pointed to his own ear since Arthur seemed slightly confused by the declaration. The point man raised a hand to his ear and looked shocked at his red stained fingers. His injured side was facing away from Cobb so when the man saw the blood but not the wound he all but jumped on him.
Cobb grabbed Arthur’s face with both hands and turned his head to see for himself. For a few tense moments, Dom examined the injury and Arthur stood still, knowing that that there was no point in arguing with Cobb when he got like this and ever since Dominic got back to his kids, his father-mode kicked into overdrive and started overlapping to the team. The extractor exhaled in relief and pulled a handkerchief from his suit pocket, pressed it to the scratch, and started wiping away the blood. Arthur had to bite back a huff as he was fussed over, but allowed it.
It wasn't until Ariadne giggled that Dom realized what he was doing and stepped away, clearing his throat. “We don't want to attract attention,” he said, and the young woman only grinned while the other two tried to act like nothing happened.
The walk to the car and the drive back to the warehouse were surprisingly uneventful. The team was tense and expecting an attack at any moment. When they arrived, no worse for wear, Yusuf and Ariadne shared nervous chuckles. When they went inside and saw that Eames wasn't there they stopped laughing.
“He probably took off when he realized the job was going south. Every man for himself, just like always.” Dominic said, trying to comfort them as well as remind them that they had to flee as well.
“Right,” Arthur agreed. “We'll split up and meet back up in two weeks.”
The others nodded and Ariadne and Yusuf went off to collect their things. Arthur and Cobb turned towards each other. “Arthur what the hell happened? Yusuf said when Eames came out he gave me the kick then just walked out. Didn't say a word.”
The point man could only sigh and run a hand through his hair while he collected his thoughts. “I don't know,” he said finally. “Stanford knew, and we got separated. Honestly, Cobb, I tried to get to him but I was almost dead when Eames found me. He didn't say anything but I was pretty hazy by that point.” He had never lied straight to Dominic's face before. He found it distasteful, but if his suspicions proved correct, it really wasn't his secret to tell. It took all his self control not to fidget under his friend’s firm gaze, but he held it together until Dom was satisfied and looked away.
“Well, I don't like it. We need to find him before he blows town.”
“I'll find him,” Arthur blurted before he could even fully process the thought. Dom gave him an odd look and nodded. “Look you've got kids to take care of now. You can't go chasing after a rogue thief who specializes in blending in. Go home, and I'll take of it, I promise.”
Again he was subjected to that look, like Cobb was trying to read his mind. “Fine, but when you find him, call me. And for God's sake Arthur, if you think Stanford is onto you, get out.”
“Of course.” The extractor nodded and turned without another word. An hour later Arthur was the only one left in the building.