FANFIC--INCEPTION
Title: Escape
Author: deesarrachi
Summary: Sometimes, the best plans are the ones that fall through.
Fandom: Inception
Characters/pairings: Original characters (Beth/Owen)
Rating: PG
Word count: 1499
Warnings: Use of IV needles.
Notes: Written for the Girl Saves Boy challenge. Also, jfc writing this was like pulling teeth. I've been writer's blocked on it pretty much the whole time I was working on it. :/
It was only years of practise that kept Beth from gasping when she woke up. She still winced slightly as she sat up, unconsciously rubbing her stomach with her free hand. No matter how many times it happened, getting shot was never fun. Unhooking herself from the PASIV device, she checked the timer. The bright red numbers were still counting down steadily from an hour and a half, and she scowled. "Zero to hell in five hours," she muttered, pulling out the IV needle our of her wrist and rubbing the spot absently. She shot a dark look at the man still lying on the bed, fast asleep. Owen always did tend to complicate things, which was the reason she'd been sceptical about taking a job that was just the two of them. At least with other team members, there was a chance for his unruly influence to be diluted.
Beth sighed, letting the tubing coil back into the device. It hadn't been completely Owen's fault that the mark's projections had noticed their presence. The real world was never that simple, never mind the dream world.
She stood, stretching out the kinks in her back as she surveyed the room. She still had plenty of time before Owen and the mark would wake up, and she was determined to use it to ensure that no trace of this extraction job remained.
Not that there was a whole lot there to begin with. The PASIV device was self contained, ready to have the last two IV tubes coiled into the case and shut. Both she and Owen had been careful not to disturb anything in the young woman's summer home, not wanting her to suspect anything when she arrived and went to sleep off her jet lag from the transatlantic flight. Beth picked up her jacket from where she'd settled it on the bed, shrugging into it and smoothing the fabric. In just over an hour, Owen would wake up--and probably laugh at her for getting herself shot and needing him to deliver a shot to the head to kill her and wake her up--and they could unhook the mark and leave in just under a minute. It had all been carefully planned, and while the dream part had gone wrong in a moment, the real world had much more rigidly defined rules.
Bored after her circuit of the room, Beth sat in the only chair in the bedroom and grabbed the book from the bedside table. Even a trashy romance novel would be better than twiddling her thumbs for an hour, and she soon settled into the narrative.
It seemed like only a moment later that she was pulled out of the surprisingly engrossing story by an odd scent in the air. She set the book back down exactly where she'd gotten it and stood, senses on the alert in a second. A quick check of the PASIV's timer showed that there was still an hour and ten minutes until the other two would wake up, and meanwhile the smell was getting stronger.
"Shit," Beth swore as she suddenly recognized the smell of smoke as it thickened in the air. A glance out the large bay window showed that the townhouse to the left had flickering orange flames starting to show on the upper level, near the wall that it shared with this house.
Their time had just run out.
There wasn't time for the usual procedure of allowing the PASIV device to taper the amount of somnacin and allow for a smooth awakening, not if they wanted to get out of here alive. She started with Owen's IV, pulling it out quickly and nestling the tubing back into the case. It would take about ten minutes for the aftereffects of the drug to wear off and leave him alert enough to escape from the fire, but it didn't seem like they were in any immediate danger, at least not yet. Getting the mark out of here without getting caught would take more work, but it was certainly doable. Owen could handle the PASIV device and she could carry the mark, and leave her on the sidewalk to wake up.
That was the plan until Beth heard the sirens.
Letting out a frustrated growl, she checked on Owen. He was still out, though it seemed like he was starting to come around. He definitely wasn't in any condition to help her brainstorm a plan on the fly, though. On the plus side, firefighters would be able to take care of their mark. On the negative side, there really wasn't any legal reason for Beth and Owen to be inside the young woman's house with or without a PASIV device.
Beth shut the device's case with a snap, making a quick decision. No matter how annoying he could be, and how tempting it was to let him sit in a jail cell for a few hours while his contacts worked out how to get him free, Owen was still a member of her team. Grunting softly with effort, she manoeuvred him into a sitting position against the headboard before slinging one arm around her shoulder and hauling him inelegantly to his feet. He was heavy against her side, still not awake enough to even walk.
"If we get out of this all right, I'm going to work out more, and you are going on a diet," Beth muttered, shifting his weight to sit more comfortably across her shoulder. By stretching, she was just able to reach the mark's arm and tug out the IV needle with a quick jerk. The tubing retracted into the case with a whirring noise that went almost unheard over the fire engines, and Beth grabbed the handle with her free hand. One last sweep of the room confirmed that everything looked the same as it had when they'd broken in, and she started to make her way downstairs.
The stairs were the tricky part, and Beth thought a silent apology at Owen with every bump of his feet against the polished hardwood. There was still no physical evidence of the fire, only the pervasive smell and the sound of the fire engines getting closer and closer. It meant that there wasn't much of a chance of the mark dying before help arrived, which was always a bonus. Beth hated killing people if she didn't really have to, and if everything went according to plan, she'd never have to at all.
The back door of the townhouse lacked a deadbolt, which meant Beth could lock it before heading outside, dragging both Owen and the PASIV device down the stone path, out the side gate, and a few yards down the street until she came across a suitable alley to duck into. He was starting to stir finally, prying his eyelids open and moving his limbs under his own power.
"Whass'appened?" he slurred, trying to stand up and almost immediately falling back against her. "Why's there an alley?"
“There was a fire in the townhouse next to the mark's,” Beth explained, setting down the case before carefully lowering Owen against the wall. "I had to pull the IV out of your arm and drag you out."
"Oh." He accepted this with surprising calm, rubbing one eye. "Explains why I feel as though I've been dragged halfway across a football field." He glanced down at his feet, splayed out in front of him. "Did you have to ruin my shoes, though?"
Beth barely looked at the scuff marks and dirt covering the top of Owen's shoes. "Those were ruined long before I even got hear them," she informed him archly. "Are you ready to go?"
He seemed to take stock of himself, going over the mental checklist to make sure both his mind and body were still all right. "Should be," he replied, pushing himself up to his feet. He stumbled a bit, and Beth reached out to grab his arm until he caught his balance again. "I've walked home from the pub in worse condition," he informed her with his usual grin.
"Then you can handle yourself now," she said, pulling back and picking up the PASIV case again. "And did you manage to finish the mission, or are we in for a nasty surprise once we're Stateside again?"
Owen raised an eyebrow. "Are you doubting my extraction abilities?" he asked. "Remember, I'm not the one who got shot."
"I should have left you to burn," she told him, turning and heading for the mouth of the alley. "And because I didn't, you get to inform Avicorp that we didn't get the formula for them."
Following behind her, Owen chuckled. "It might have been kinder to let me burn."
Author: deesarrachi
Summary: Sometimes, the best plans are the ones that fall through.
Fandom: Inception
Characters/pairings: Original characters (Beth/Owen)
Rating: PG
Word count: 1499
Warnings: Use of IV needles.
Notes: Written for the Girl Saves Boy challenge. Also, jfc writing this was like pulling teeth. I've been writer's blocked on it pretty much the whole time I was working on it. :/
It was only years of practise that kept Beth from gasping when she woke up. She still winced slightly as she sat up, unconsciously rubbing her stomach with her free hand. No matter how many times it happened, getting shot was never fun. Unhooking herself from the PASIV device, she checked the timer. The bright red numbers were still counting down steadily from an hour and a half, and she scowled. "Zero to hell in five hours," she muttered, pulling out the IV needle our of her wrist and rubbing the spot absently. She shot a dark look at the man still lying on the bed, fast asleep. Owen always did tend to complicate things, which was the reason she'd been sceptical about taking a job that was just the two of them. At least with other team members, there was a chance for his unruly influence to be diluted.
Beth sighed, letting the tubing coil back into the device. It hadn't been completely Owen's fault that the mark's projections had noticed their presence. The real world was never that simple, never mind the dream world.
She stood, stretching out the kinks in her back as she surveyed the room. She still had plenty of time before Owen and the mark would wake up, and she was determined to use it to ensure that no trace of this extraction job remained.
Not that there was a whole lot there to begin with. The PASIV device was self contained, ready to have the last two IV tubes coiled into the case and shut. Both she and Owen had been careful not to disturb anything in the young woman's summer home, not wanting her to suspect anything when she arrived and went to sleep off her jet lag from the transatlantic flight. Beth picked up her jacket from where she'd settled it on the bed, shrugging into it and smoothing the fabric. In just over an hour, Owen would wake up--and probably laugh at her for getting herself shot and needing him to deliver a shot to the head to kill her and wake her up--and they could unhook the mark and leave in just under a minute. It had all been carefully planned, and while the dream part had gone wrong in a moment, the real world had much more rigidly defined rules.
Bored after her circuit of the room, Beth sat in the only chair in the bedroom and grabbed the book from the bedside table. Even a trashy romance novel would be better than twiddling her thumbs for an hour, and she soon settled into the narrative.
It seemed like only a moment later that she was pulled out of the surprisingly engrossing story by an odd scent in the air. She set the book back down exactly where she'd gotten it and stood, senses on the alert in a second. A quick check of the PASIV's timer showed that there was still an hour and ten minutes until the other two would wake up, and meanwhile the smell was getting stronger.
"Shit," Beth swore as she suddenly recognized the smell of smoke as it thickened in the air. A glance out the large bay window showed that the townhouse to the left had flickering orange flames starting to show on the upper level, near the wall that it shared with this house.
Their time had just run out.
There wasn't time for the usual procedure of allowing the PASIV device to taper the amount of somnacin and allow for a smooth awakening, not if they wanted to get out of here alive. She started with Owen's IV, pulling it out quickly and nestling the tubing back into the case. It would take about ten minutes for the aftereffects of the drug to wear off and leave him alert enough to escape from the fire, but it didn't seem like they were in any immediate danger, at least not yet. Getting the mark out of here without getting caught would take more work, but it was certainly doable. Owen could handle the PASIV device and she could carry the mark, and leave her on the sidewalk to wake up.
That was the plan until Beth heard the sirens.
Letting out a frustrated growl, she checked on Owen. He was still out, though it seemed like he was starting to come around. He definitely wasn't in any condition to help her brainstorm a plan on the fly, though. On the plus side, firefighters would be able to take care of their mark. On the negative side, there really wasn't any legal reason for Beth and Owen to be inside the young woman's house with or without a PASIV device.
Beth shut the device's case with a snap, making a quick decision. No matter how annoying he could be, and how tempting it was to let him sit in a jail cell for a few hours while his contacts worked out how to get him free, Owen was still a member of her team. Grunting softly with effort, she manoeuvred him into a sitting position against the headboard before slinging one arm around her shoulder and hauling him inelegantly to his feet. He was heavy against her side, still not awake enough to even walk.
"If we get out of this all right, I'm going to work out more, and you are going on a diet," Beth muttered, shifting his weight to sit more comfortably across her shoulder. By stretching, she was just able to reach the mark's arm and tug out the IV needle with a quick jerk. The tubing retracted into the case with a whirring noise that went almost unheard over the fire engines, and Beth grabbed the handle with her free hand. One last sweep of the room confirmed that everything looked the same as it had when they'd broken in, and she started to make her way downstairs.
The stairs were the tricky part, and Beth thought a silent apology at Owen with every bump of his feet against the polished hardwood. There was still no physical evidence of the fire, only the pervasive smell and the sound of the fire engines getting closer and closer. It meant that there wasn't much of a chance of the mark dying before help arrived, which was always a bonus. Beth hated killing people if she didn't really have to, and if everything went according to plan, she'd never have to at all.
The back door of the townhouse lacked a deadbolt, which meant Beth could lock it before heading outside, dragging both Owen and the PASIV device down the stone path, out the side gate, and a few yards down the street until she came across a suitable alley to duck into. He was starting to stir finally, prying his eyelids open and moving his limbs under his own power.
"Whass'appened?" he slurred, trying to stand up and almost immediately falling back against her. "Why's there an alley?"
“There was a fire in the townhouse next to the mark's,” Beth explained, setting down the case before carefully lowering Owen against the wall. "I had to pull the IV out of your arm and drag you out."
"Oh." He accepted this with surprising calm, rubbing one eye. "Explains why I feel as though I've been dragged halfway across a football field." He glanced down at his feet, splayed out in front of him. "Did you have to ruin my shoes, though?"
Beth barely looked at the scuff marks and dirt covering the top of Owen's shoes. "Those were ruined long before I even got hear them," she informed him archly. "Are you ready to go?"
He seemed to take stock of himself, going over the mental checklist to make sure both his mind and body were still all right. "Should be," he replied, pushing himself up to his feet. He stumbled a bit, and Beth reached out to grab his arm until he caught his balance again. "I've walked home from the pub in worse condition," he informed her with his usual grin.
"Then you can handle yourself now," she said, pulling back and picking up the PASIV case again. "And did you manage to finish the mission, or are we in for a nasty surprise once we're Stateside again?"
Owen raised an eyebrow. "Are you doubting my extraction abilities?" he asked. "Remember, I'm not the one who got shot."
"I should have left you to burn," she told him, turning and heading for the mouth of the alley. "And because I didn't, you get to inform Avicorp that we didn't get the formula for them."
Following behind her, Owen chuckled. "It might have been kinder to let me burn."