Ghost in the Machine (2/2)
Things became stilted between Eames and Arthur after that. The interface was clearly avoiding Eames, working with the Cobbs almost exclusively and refusing to even look at Eames the entire time. Their after work conversations stopped completely. Eames, recognizing the rejection for what it was, threw himself into his work. He was making progress, and was sure that he was close to finding a way to create a full skin. All he needed to do was find the key to connecting all the changes together.
He finally got it two months after having come aboard the Inception. He was down in the dreamscape by himself (save for the Bulsomn who had helped to take him under), mirror in front of him as per usual, trying to become Mal. He had almost everything perfected-the shade of her hair, the shape of her mouth, the grace of her movements-but he wasn't able to piece everything together. Still, he was hoping that going through the motions might eventually help.
Eames moved to laugh like her-head tilted slightly back, hand up to lips just so-when a memory flooded him. He was watching Mal laugh again, noting not just the movement but also the sheer joy in it, the happiness that emanated from her with the motion. As he focused on the emotional impressions of the act, his form flickered in the mirror. For a split second it was Mal laughing, and not just him copying the motions. The illusion then faded out of existence as soon as Eames noticed, leaving him gaping at his own reflection.
The method was so simple that Eames was amazed that he had missed it. Simply imitating a person's movements wasn't enough to create the skin. The emotional and mental ties of each movement had to be considered, needed to be present for the skin to stick. In other words, Eames couldn't simply take on the form of another person, but also had to acquire the personality.
Thrilled that he had figured it out, he focused on trying to make Mal again. Her form once more flickered into existence, but it didn't last for longer than a few breaths. Apparently Eames didn't know her well enough to get the skin to hold. That wasn't surprising, really-after the first couple of days, he and the Cobbs had drifted apart, too interested in their separate research to interact. In order to get this to work, Eames sensed that he was going to have to use someone he knew better.
Unwillingly, his mind began to bring up the vision of dark hair and eyes, of a lithe frame and perfectly tailored suits. Eames knew the stories behind almost every feature, knew the movements by heart after seeing them every day. He felt a slight mental twist, similar to the one needed to shift the dreamscape and yet completely different. Eames' reflection shifted rapidly, changing until it was Arthur who was looking back at him.
The skin held. Eames looked down at Arthur's hands, flexing them experimentally. Looking back at the mirror, he did a small twirl, arms outstretched. He was given a three hundred and sixty degree view of the interface, perfect down to the last detail. When he was facing front once more, Eames grinned, watching as dimples appeared on Arthur's cheeks and his eyes crinkled with happiness. Marveling at seeing such an expression on Arthur's face, Eames accidentally lost his concentration and dropped the skin, becoming himself once more.
Before he could try to bring the skin back, Eames felt the familiar sensation of falling that always accompanied the Somnacin wearing off. Soon enough, he was blinking up at the ceiling as he woke up. He sat up as soon as he could and looked down at his hands. He grinned, elated.
"I did it," he murmured. He flexed his hands into fists and relaxed them once more. "I finally did it."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar form blink into existence. "You managed to create a full skin?"
Eames knew he should be upset at Arthur for virtually ignoring him for the last month, but in his excitement he couldn't care less. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."
"How did you manage it?" Arthur asked. "What was missing from your past attempts?"
"Apparently it didn't matter how well I copied what I observed," Eames explained. "Without getting into the personality of the other person, without knowing their thoughts and feelings and motivations, I was never going to make a skin-a forgery, really, with all the details that have to be taken into account-work. I had to know someone well enough to truly become them."
"Who did you use, then?" Arthur leaned forward the slightest bit, attentive. "Who did you become?"
Eames looked up at the interface, joy fading out into solemnity. "You," he said softly. "I forged you."
Surprised, Arthur leaned back once more, his expression wary. "Eames."
"You were the only one I could think of that I knew well enough to sufficiently copy." Eames stood and stepped closer to the interface. "I know your background, I know your personality, and I know your movements better than anyone else. I know you, Arthur."
The interface stepped back, but soon enough his back was against the wall. Leaving would be easy-he could simply turn off the hologram of his form-but he stayed where he was, watching Eames. He said the other man's name again, with an edge of warning this time around. Eames stopped advancing on Arthur a couple feet away, close enough so that he could reach out and touch, but not close enough to make it seem like he was cornering the interface.
"I know you," Eames repeated, "and I still want you. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Hell, I want you more than I originally did. All I want to do is-"
He reached out. "Don't," Arthur said, but Eames ignored him. His fingertips brushed against the interface's cheek before slipping through the hologram completely.
With a sigh, Eames dropped his hand and stepped back a little, giving Arthur more space. Arthur, however, didn't seem inclined to move. He instead laid his own hand on the spot Eames had tried to touch. His gaze was unfocused, and his expression was one of faint confusion.
"Arthur." Eames wanted the interface to say something, anything, about what had just happened, even if it ended up being "Never do that again." Instead, Arthur's eyes snapped onto his face, and the confusion on his face melted into something much more vulnerable.
"I need to," Arthur started, before swallowing. After a moment he managed to say, "I need to think about this."
Then, with a faint flicker, he was gone.
~*
A week passed, and there was no word on whatever decision Arthur had reached. The interface remained distant, but he was no longer blatantly ignoring Eames. Whenever they made eye contact, Arthur would nod in acknowledgement. It was enough to give Eames hope, but he still kept his distance with the interface. He didn't want to push Arthur, and was content to wait for him to make the first move.
One night, when Eames was reading in the lounge, Arthur appeared. He looked like he was trying to hide how nervous he actually was, but Eames could see the tension in his jaw and the way he kept on shifting his weight. Setting his book down, Eames turned so that he could give Arthur his full attention.
Arthur was quiet for a long moment, watching Eames. "Come with me," he finally said, before turning and heading for the door. His image faded as he walked out of range of the hologram projector before disappearing altogether. Eames quickly rose and followed, stepping out of the lounge and into the corridor. Arthur was waiting for him near the end of the corridor, and when he saw Eames he turned and walked around the corner. Curious, Eames continued to follow.
As Arthur led him further into the ship, Eames realized they were going to an area that he hadn't been to before. He guessed it was somewhere close to the center of the ship, but besides that he wasn't entirely sure about where he was. He was completely dependent on Arthur, who continued to give him directions from a distance. If Eames lost sight of the interface, he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to find his way back.
When Eames finally caught up with Arthur, the interface was standing in front of a door. Eames gave Arthur a questioning look, but Arthur didn't say anything to explain himself. Instead, he waved his hand over the keypad next to the door. The keys on the pad pressed themselves, punching out a code before letting out a cheerful chime. The door slid open without a sound. Arthur glanced over at Eames and tilted his head, silently inviting the man to go inside.
After a moment's hesitation, Eames stepped through the door. He found himself in a room that was bare of any decorations, save for the screens and control panels that lined the walls. In the middle of the room, amidst a tangle of wires, was a man.
Realizing where he was, Eames shot a startled glance at Arthur. The interface, however, had disappeared-it was likely that he couldn't create a hologram within his own room-leaving Eames to his own devices. Nervous, Eames hesitantly stepped towards the man in the room.
It was Arthur-as if it could be anybody else. This version of him, the real version of him, was pale and thin, his dark hair loose and falling into his face. He was standing, but his eyes were closed and his posture was relaxed, as if he was asleep on his feet. Wires were embedded at the nape of his neck and down his spine at regular intervals. Arthur looked vulnerable like this, in a way that tugged at Eames' heart.
"Arthur," he murmured, "you, you're-"
"I know." Arthur's voice came from every corner of the room. His actual body remained silent. "I warned you that I didn't look-"
"Lovely," Eames finished. "You look lovely, Arthur."
Eames reached out, cupping Arthur's face and tilting it up so that he could get a better look. He ran his thumb along the line of one of Arthur's cheekbone. A soft sound, almost like an unsteady breath, echoed through the room. Unable to resist, Eames leaned forward.
"Don't," Arthur admonished, voice soft. "I'd lose my concentration and we'd drop out of orbit."
Eames laughed gently and settled for merely brushing his thumb along the curve of Arthur's lower lip. He then let Arthur go, allowing the other man's head to droop back down. After one last moment to look Arthur over, Eames turned and left the room.
The interface was waiting for him outside, looking slightly apprehensive. Eames gave him a reassuring smile.
"Thank you," Eames said. He meant it. It couldn't have been an easy decision for Arthur to show this part of himself.
"As long as I didn't scare you off," Arthur said. He gave Eames a searching look. "Did I?"
Eames grinned. "Not a chance, darling."
~*
For the next several days, things settled back into their normal pace. Eames and Arthur talked to each other in the evenings again, going over work or whatever else came to mind. The only difference was that sometimes, during the brief pauses between conversations, Eames would catch Arthur giving him a fond look. It wasn't an obvious expression, and mostly showed through his eyes. Eames was still able to catch it, though, and every time he did he felt a surge of happiness. Eames was less subtle with his affection, using pet names for Arthur and, while touching wasn't possible, he lingered closer than usual to the interface's form. It was enough to make Eames content, and Arthur seemed to be happy about the situation as well.
Two weeks later Eames woke up from trying to forge his brother to find Ariadne and Arthur talking to each other. That wouldn't have alerted Eames-Ariadne and Arthur talked often while helping the Cobbs-but they were speaking in low, argumentative tones. Curious, Eames stepped closer and listened in.
"If Yusuf cleared the extra dosage, I don't understand what the problem is," Arthur said.
"The problem is that they should have woken up half an hour ago," Ariadne said. "So unless you got the timer wrong-"
"You know I'm never wrong."
"Then why aren't you more worried about all of this?"
"About what?" Eames asked.
Ariadne turned to him, looking exasperated. "Dom and Mal are testing out multi-level dreaming and they should have woken up thirty minutes ago. And yes, they did clear the extra Somnacin dose they wanted to use with Yusuf," she shot a glare at Arthur, "but it should've worn off by now."
"Then why not just wake them up?" Eames asked. "That should be simple enough."
"I've tried," Arthur said. "Nothing's worked. I think they're too deep for anything to work."
"Then I think we're stuck waiting for them to wake up," Eames said, with an apologetic glance at Ariadne.
Arthur nodded in agreement. "I'll watch them," he told Ariadne. "I'll tell you when they wake up."
"Thank you," she said, and left the lab.
Eames watched her go, and then looked over at Arthur. "You're worried," he said.
"Yes," Arthur replied, his voice steady. "Ariadne's right; they should have woken up by now."
"They will soon," Eames said softly. "I'm sure of it."
Arthur smiled at him, but he quickly sobered up and glanced at the room the Cobbs were in. "You can go, too," he said. "I know forging tires you out."
Eames frowned slightly. "Will you be fine on your own?"
"Yeah," Arthur said, "I will. Go on."
Eames wanted to reach out and comfort Arthur, but he restrained himself. Instead he nodded. "You know where to find me," he said, and walked out of the lab. When he glanced back, he found Arthur watching him. The interface then walked toward the Cobbs' room and faded out of sight.
~*
"Eames."
Eames groaned, rolling over and checking the clock. It was three in the morning. He squinted blearily up at the silhouette of Arthur standing over his bed. "What is it?" he mumbled.
"Dom and Mal have woken up." Arthur hesitated, before adding, "We may have a problem."
Rubbing a hand over his face, Eames sat up. "What sort of problem?"
"It's not something I think I can fully describe. Meet us in the lab; Ariadne and Yusuf should already be there." With that, Arthur's form vanished.
Eames scrubbed the last remnants of sleep off his face and quickly got dressed, wanting to get to the lab as soon as possible. He didn't think he had been imagining the edge of nerves in Arthur's voice, and that made him nervous as well. Whatever was waiting for him wasn't going to be good.
Ariadne was standing near the lab doors, nervously glancing farther in every now and then. "Arthur got you, too?" she asked when she caught sight of Eames.
"Yeah," Eames said. "Whatever's going on must be serious."
"All I know is that Yusuf's been in the other room with Mal for almost an hour now," the young assistant said, "and Dom hasn’t moved from that spot since they went in there."
Following the direction of Ariadne's nod, Eames saw Dom standing next to the door leading to one of the side rooms. He was shifting from foot to foot, raking his hands through his hair and tugging on his shirtsleeves. There was an odd air to his movements, Eames noticed. It was as if Dom was being careful with how he moved, like he had become delicate. Or old.
Shouts erupted from the side room, startling everyone in the lab. It sounded like Mal, but her words were indistinct through the wall. A moment later the door slid open, and Yusuf backed out of the room. For a few seconds Mal's yells became clear.
"-understand! Nothing's here, nothing's real! We're still dream-"
The door slid shut again, cutting off Mal's words. Looking shaken, Yusuf walked over to Dom and said something in a low tone. Dom's expression sharpened for a moment and he spoke, voice turning up into a question at the end. Yusuf shook his head the slightest bit. Stunned, Dom took a step back and covered his mouth with his hand. The doctor gave him a look full of pity and made his way towards Ariadne and Eames.
"What happened?" Ariadne demanded. "What's going on with Mal?"
"It seems like Dom and Mal went down far too many levels," Yusuf explained, weary. "They arrived in a place of pure subconscious and lost themselves in it. They spent the equivalent of a lifetime down there."
Ariadne flinched, and Eames' stomach clenched. The Cobbs had only been asleep for a few hours. What was it like to live a lifetime and then wake up to find yourself young again, aged hours instead of years? How does someone adjust to that? "And Mal?" he prompted.
"There was some…disorientation upon waking up," Yusuf said. "While Dom adjusted well enough, Mal didn't. She's still convinced that she's in a dream, that she needs to wake up. I tried to explain that this was reality, but, well, you saw her reaction."
"Christ." Eames wiped his lips with a shaking hand. "That's terrible."
"You're forgetting the Bulsomn." Arthur had appeared behind Yusuf, making them all jump. "When Dom and Mal went under that far, so did the Bulsomn connecting them."
"I don't see him," Ariadne murmured, glancing around the lab. "What happened to him?"
"He went insane," Arthur said, voice flat. "The rest of his people took him back to the planet on their shuttle. There was talk of possible retribution for his affliction."
"Do the Bulsomn have the technology to attack us?" Eames asked, startled.
"Yes. And what's worse, they're probably serious. They're a very tight-knit culture. An attack on one, no matter how unintentional, could be seen as an attack on all of them."
"We could leave before they attacked," Ariadne said. "Arthur, is that possible?"
The interface tilted his head in thought. "I can move the ship, but it will have to take a couple days to prepare for something like that-we've been sedentary for a long time." He hesitated. "I'd also need Dom's permission."
"I'll talk to him," Ariadne said, and left the small group.
"I'm going to stay with Mal," Yusuf said. "I may be able to do something about her condition, but I need more data."
"I'll prep the ship for departure," Arthur told Yusuf. "Hopefully Ariadne will have talked Dom around by that point."
The doctor and the interface nodded to each other before parting ways, Yusuf going back to the other room and Arthur flickering out of sight. This left Eames standing in the middle of the lab, alone. There really was nothing he could do about the situation, he realized. Everyone else had everything covered. Shrugging, he stepped out of the lab, intent on returning to his room.
A voice stopped him in the corridor: "Eames."
Arthur was standing a few yards away. He was pale, and his jaw was clenched in what looked like irritation. "What is it?" Eames asked.
"When we're attacked-and there will be an attack-I want you to get on the shuttle as soon as you can," Arthur said. "Leave with the others."
"What about you?"
Arthur smiled, and there was a bitter edge to it. "I'll go down with the ship."
There wasn't a trace of emotion in his voice. If it weren't for Arthur's expression, Eames would have thought that the interface was completely fine with dying for the sake of the rest of the crew. Stunned, Eames' mouth worked as he tried to figure out what to say. He finally settled on the most prominent question on his mind: "Why?"
"Someone has to keep the ship in orbit for as long as possible." Arthur shrugs. "Since I'm this ship's computer, that someone will be me."
"That's-" Wrong. Ludicrous. Not going to happen. Eames wanted to say something to that effect, but the look on Arthur's face kept him from finishing his sentence. He nodded weakly instead, letting out a quiet, "Okay."
"I'm serious, Eames," Arthur said, locking eyes with him. "I don't want you pulling any heroics. No coming after me. Got it?"
Eames clenched his hands into fists, wanting to refuse, to argue the point, but he could tell it was a lost cause. Arthur was determined to do this the way he had set it up-to doom himself. "Fine," he muttered.
Arthur's expression softened the slightest bit at Eames' tone. "There's no other way to do this," he said. "You see that, don't you?"
"Sure," Eames snapped. "Of course I see why you have to set up a suicide mission for yourself. I'm perfectly willing to watch you die for this."
"Eames-"
"Don't. Just…don't."
He stalked off in the direction of his room, needing space. Arthur, luckily, had enough sense to leave Eames alone. Right now Eames had to figure out all of the thoughts swirling through his mind, and he couldn't do that and deal with the interface at the same time.
When he reached his room, he closed and locked the door, hoping that would be an obvious message to everyone else. Lying down on the bed, Eames tried to sort through his thoughts.
He didn't get any sleep that night.
~*
The attack came three days later.
Four Bulsomn ships boxed the Inception in and opened fire, taking down her shields almost immediately. The alarm to abandon ship flashed on, and Eames scrambled down to the hangar as fast as he could. Yusuf and Ariadne were already there, both looking panicked about the situation.
"Where's Mal and Dom?" Eames asked as soon as he was close enough to be heard.
"I don't know," Ariadne said. "Dom said he was going to get Mal, and I haven't seen them since."
"And Arthur?"
The young assistant hesitated. "He can't come," she said. "He needs to keep the ship in the air-"
"At this rate there won't be a ship to keep in the air." Eames thought at a furious pace before reaching a decision. "Are the hangar doors open?"
Yusuf nodded, jerking a thumb at the open doors, where only a force field was keeping the air within the ship. "That was the first thing Arthur did. The force field should keep any Bulsomn ships from getting in, but we can get out."
"Good. Get the shuttle ready for takeoff. When the ship goes onto auxiliary power, wait for ten minutes and then go."
Ariadne gave Eames an alarmed look. "But what about you?"
"Go without me if I'm not back in time." He gave a stern look to both Ariadne and Yusuf. "I mean it."
Ariadne looked frightened for him, but Yusuf nodded. "Good luck, mate," he said.
Eames nodded in return, then turned and ran out of the hangar. He took the lift up to the center of the ship and stepped out, looking at the corridors that branched off from his location. After a moment of contemplation he tilted his head towards the ceiling.
"Arthur," he said. "Arthur, I could use a little help."
The interface's hologram appeared, but it continuously flickered and fuzzed out, like a bad signal. "You promised not to," Arthur said. He sounded tired.
"I lied. So either point me in the right direction, or leave me to wander around until we both die."
Arthur seemed to consider him (it was hard to tell with the constantly shifting hologram) before finally pointing down one corridor. Eames ran down it, not even pausing to thank the interface for the help.
With Arthur leading the way, Eames made it to the central room in five minutes. Just as he caught sight of a familiar-looking door, however, the ship rocked violently, causing Eames to lose his footing and go sprawling on the floor. At the same time the lights went out. As Eames shoved himself back to standing, the auxiliary lights weakly blinked on.
"Shit." He now had ten minutes to get Arthur and return to the hangar. Sprinting down the final length of hallway, Eames stepped through the open door and into Arthur's room.
The blow to the ship had apparently jarred Arthur out of his position, because he was now stretched out on his side on the floor. Most of his wires were still in their place, but they were stretched taut, at their limit. Arthur was weakly pawing at the floor, trying to move forward and failing.
"Oh, darling," Eames breathed, before rushing over and kneeling next to the dark-haired man. After studying the situation, he said, "I'm going to unplug you, alright?"
Arthur shook his head. "No," he rasped. "It'll take too long. Just go."
"If I hadn't made it clear yet, love, I'm not exactly planning to leave without you."
Grasping the wire at the base of Arthur's spine, Eames pulled. The wire separated from its port with the faint sound of metal scraping on metal. Arthur made a small noise that almost sounded like pain, but he didn't tell Eames to stop. Eames went up Arthur's spine that way, removing wire after wire. Soon enough he was at the thickest one, located at the base of Arthur's skull.
"I've a feeling this one will hurt," he said. "Brace yourself."
After Arthur curled his hands into weak fists, Eames yanked the wire out. Arthur gasped harshly and writhed, eyes squeezed shut in obvious pain. After a few moments he finally relaxed again.
"Okay," the dark-haired man breathed, "okay. Get me out of here."
Eames was happy to oblige. He didn't even try to get Arthur to walk, and instead hefted him over his shoulder and ran back down the halls. Another tremor made Eames lurch when he was almost to the lift, but he managed to keep his footing. After that the ship continuously shook underneath him, intensifying every now and then to a shuddering jolt.
"What's going on?" Eames asked, setting Arthur on his feet in the lift.
"The ship doesn't have enough power to stay in orbit, since it's been heavily damaged and I'm gone," Arthur said. "We're going down, it seems."
Cursing, Eames picked Arthur up again as soon as the lift stopped and bolted out of the doors the moment they opened. He was in the hangar in seconds, and saw that the shuttle was still there. It looked moments away from taking off, though, so Eames didn't slow his pace across the hangar's floor.
The door on the shuttles side slid open and Ariadne leaned out. "Hurry!" she called, holding her hands out.
Eames took the invitation and handed Arthur open as soon as he could, making sure Ariadne could carry the other man's weight before fully letting go. He then pulled himself on board and slammed the door shut.
"Get us out of here," he yelled at Yusuf, who was in the pilot's seat.
"You don't have to tell me twice." With a punch of a few buttons and a nudge of the throttle, the shuttle was airborne and making its way out of the hangar.
They made it out just in time. Seconds after they left the Inception, the broken ship reached the Bulsomn planet's atmosphere and began to burn. Eames watched it for a moment, solemn, before moving away from the window and bringing his focus back into the shuttle.
Ariadne was laying Arthur out on one of the shuttles beds, being mindful of his delicate state. "Dom and Mal," Arthur asked, clutching at Ariadne's sleeve, "did they…?"
"They never showed up," Ariadne murmured. "They went down with the ship."
Arthur went completely still, his hand falling limp from Ariadne's sleeve. After a few second's pause, he rolled onto his side and curled up into a ball, a clear sign that he wanted to be left alone. Ariadne gave him the space he required, stepping up to the front of the shuttle to keep Yusuf company.
"The Bulsomn aren't attacking," she said as she sat down. "Why?"
"I think they only wanted us to leave," Yusuf answered, "and since it's obvious that that's what we're doing…"
Filtering them out, Eames stepped over to Arthur's bed and took a seat next to it. He did nothing beyond that, waiting for Arthur to make the next move.
A few minutes later, Arthur broke the silence between them. "Dom and Mal are dead."
"Yes," Eames said, as gently as he could.
Arthur curled up into a tighter ball. "All because of me," he whispered.
Eames snorted. "You didn't ask for a Bulsomn to attack the ship and knock you offline. You didn't tell Dom to go after Mal."
"I saw him agree to stay, though," the other man said. "I saw them decide to go down with the ship. I could have stopped them."
"How? They loved each other too much, Arthur. They weren't going anywhere without each other and you know that."
Arthur was silent, but he had uncurled his body a little bit. He closed his eyes, and Eames couldn't tell if it was because of pain or exhaustion. Tentatively he reached out and laid light fingers against Arthur's cheek.
"You alright, love?"
The dark-haired man leaned into Eames' touch. "No." A ghost of a smile. "My head feels too small."
Eames chuckled. After being plugged into a ship's database, Arthur was sure to feel a little big within the confines of his own skull. "You'll get used to it," Eames said, brushing a thumb across Arthur's cheekbone.
Arthur reached up and covered Eames' hand with his own. "I'm glad you're here," he murmured. He squeezed Eames' hand. "I'm glad I'm here. With you."
Tilting Arthur's face up, Eames leaned forward and did what he had wanted to do the first time he had laid eyes on the real Arthur: he brushed his lips against the other man's. He pulled back after a lingering moment to give Arthur a soft smile and murmur, "So am I."
EPILOGUE
A year after the destruction of the Inception, Arthur was barely recognizable. Eames had nursed him back to health, helping him gain weight and patiently strengthening his muscles. Now Arthur looked like anyone else, save for the small, round port at the base of his skull. When he slicked back his hair, though, it was difficult to see, which pleased Arthur quite a bit. He liked blending in, liked being part of a crowd, and would do anything he could to make that possible.
Eames had gone back to lecturing, talking about the research he had done aboard the Inception and talking about dreams in general. Arthur never became an interface again, content with becoming a data analyst for a large computer company. Both men settled into their routines quickly, until they became everyday and uneventful. It was a satisfying, albeit slightly boring, way to live.
Their relationship grew with the passing months. It probably helped that they started living together after immediately after returning to Earth, since Eames had wanted to take care of Arthur. So now, one year after the Inception was attacked, they were still together and going strong.
Eames stood in the living room, watching Arthur. The younger man was sitting on the back porch, head tilted back so that he could look at the darkening sky. From this angle Eames could only see Arthur's back, and therefore couldn't see whatever expression was currently on the other man's face. After studying Arthur for another minute or so, Eames opened the back door and stepped out onto the porch.
"What are you thinking about?" Eames asked, noting the slight frown on Arthur's face.
Arthur glanced at Eames before returning his gaze to the sky. The older man sat down next to Arthur and waited for him to speak. One thing Eames had learned over the last year was that without the acceleration of being plugged into a computer, it took Arthur a longer while to gather his thoughts. He was getting better at it, though, and was responding faster now than he had been a few months ago.
"About the year," Arthur finally said. "About…the Inception."
The older man studied Arthur's face. "You miss them."
Arthur nodded, but said nothing beyond that. He had gotten past his mourning of Dom and Mal with Eames' help, but sometimes he would simply miss their presence in his life. Things seemed a little less exciting without the Cobbs and their experiments in dreamshare.
When he shared this thought with Eames, it made the older man smile. "Actually, that's why I came out here," Eames said. "Ariadne just called."
The younger man tilted his head, a silent prompt for Eames to continue.
"Well, it seems like our young colleague has been working with Yusuf on recreating dreamshare without the use of a third party. It seems like they just figured it out. They call it the PASIV device." Eames grinned. "They're looking for test subjects."
Arthur was silent. He could probably see where Eames was going with this, but he seemed to want Eames to say it.
"Well?" Eames asked. "Would you like to finally try out dreamshare yourself? With me?"
Arthur looked up at the sky again, thinking it through. Eames didn't pressure the other man and sat there, watching. While Eames himself was eager to try dreamshare again, he was also aware of Arthur's associations with the subject. He had only recently recovered from Dom and Mal, and Eames didn't want to unintentionally reopen that wound.
Finally, after a full five minutes, Arthur looked at Eames again. He was smiling. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, let's do it."
Laughing a little, Eames leaned forward and kissed Arthur thoroughly. "Yes, darling," he said. "Let's."
He finally got it two months after having come aboard the Inception. He was down in the dreamscape by himself (save for the Bulsomn who had helped to take him under), mirror in front of him as per usual, trying to become Mal. He had almost everything perfected-the shade of her hair, the shape of her mouth, the grace of her movements-but he wasn't able to piece everything together. Still, he was hoping that going through the motions might eventually help.
Eames moved to laugh like her-head tilted slightly back, hand up to lips just so-when a memory flooded him. He was watching Mal laugh again, noting not just the movement but also the sheer joy in it, the happiness that emanated from her with the motion. As he focused on the emotional impressions of the act, his form flickered in the mirror. For a split second it was Mal laughing, and not just him copying the motions. The illusion then faded out of existence as soon as Eames noticed, leaving him gaping at his own reflection.
The method was so simple that Eames was amazed that he had missed it. Simply imitating a person's movements wasn't enough to create the skin. The emotional and mental ties of each movement had to be considered, needed to be present for the skin to stick. In other words, Eames couldn't simply take on the form of another person, but also had to acquire the personality.
Thrilled that he had figured it out, he focused on trying to make Mal again. Her form once more flickered into existence, but it didn't last for longer than a few breaths. Apparently Eames didn't know her well enough to get the skin to hold. That wasn't surprising, really-after the first couple of days, he and the Cobbs had drifted apart, too interested in their separate research to interact. In order to get this to work, Eames sensed that he was going to have to use someone he knew better.
Unwillingly, his mind began to bring up the vision of dark hair and eyes, of a lithe frame and perfectly tailored suits. Eames knew the stories behind almost every feature, knew the movements by heart after seeing them every day. He felt a slight mental twist, similar to the one needed to shift the dreamscape and yet completely different. Eames' reflection shifted rapidly, changing until it was Arthur who was looking back at him.
The skin held. Eames looked down at Arthur's hands, flexing them experimentally. Looking back at the mirror, he did a small twirl, arms outstretched. He was given a three hundred and sixty degree view of the interface, perfect down to the last detail. When he was facing front once more, Eames grinned, watching as dimples appeared on Arthur's cheeks and his eyes crinkled with happiness. Marveling at seeing such an expression on Arthur's face, Eames accidentally lost his concentration and dropped the skin, becoming himself once more.
Before he could try to bring the skin back, Eames felt the familiar sensation of falling that always accompanied the Somnacin wearing off. Soon enough, he was blinking up at the ceiling as he woke up. He sat up as soon as he could and looked down at his hands. He grinned, elated.
"I did it," he murmured. He flexed his hands into fists and relaxed them once more. "I finally did it."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar form blink into existence. "You managed to create a full skin?"
Eames knew he should be upset at Arthur for virtually ignoring him for the last month, but in his excitement he couldn't care less. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."
"How did you manage it?" Arthur asked. "What was missing from your past attempts?"
"Apparently it didn't matter how well I copied what I observed," Eames explained. "Without getting into the personality of the other person, without knowing their thoughts and feelings and motivations, I was never going to make a skin-a forgery, really, with all the details that have to be taken into account-work. I had to know someone well enough to truly become them."
"Who did you use, then?" Arthur leaned forward the slightest bit, attentive. "Who did you become?"
Eames looked up at the interface, joy fading out into solemnity. "You," he said softly. "I forged you."
Surprised, Arthur leaned back once more, his expression wary. "Eames."
"You were the only one I could think of that I knew well enough to sufficiently copy." Eames stood and stepped closer to the interface. "I know your background, I know your personality, and I know your movements better than anyone else. I know you, Arthur."
The interface stepped back, but soon enough his back was against the wall. Leaving would be easy-he could simply turn off the hologram of his form-but he stayed where he was, watching Eames. He said the other man's name again, with an edge of warning this time around. Eames stopped advancing on Arthur a couple feet away, close enough so that he could reach out and touch, but not close enough to make it seem like he was cornering the interface.
"I know you," Eames repeated, "and I still want you. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Hell, I want you more than I originally did. All I want to do is-"
He reached out. "Don't," Arthur said, but Eames ignored him. His fingertips brushed against the interface's cheek before slipping through the hologram completely.
With a sigh, Eames dropped his hand and stepped back a little, giving Arthur more space. Arthur, however, didn't seem inclined to move. He instead laid his own hand on the spot Eames had tried to touch. His gaze was unfocused, and his expression was one of faint confusion.
"Arthur." Eames wanted the interface to say something, anything, about what had just happened, even if it ended up being "Never do that again." Instead, Arthur's eyes snapped onto his face, and the confusion on his face melted into something much more vulnerable.
"I need to," Arthur started, before swallowing. After a moment he managed to say, "I need to think about this."
Then, with a faint flicker, he was gone.
~*
A week passed, and there was no word on whatever decision Arthur had reached. The interface remained distant, but he was no longer blatantly ignoring Eames. Whenever they made eye contact, Arthur would nod in acknowledgement. It was enough to give Eames hope, but he still kept his distance with the interface. He didn't want to push Arthur, and was content to wait for him to make the first move.
One night, when Eames was reading in the lounge, Arthur appeared. He looked like he was trying to hide how nervous he actually was, but Eames could see the tension in his jaw and the way he kept on shifting his weight. Setting his book down, Eames turned so that he could give Arthur his full attention.
Arthur was quiet for a long moment, watching Eames. "Come with me," he finally said, before turning and heading for the door. His image faded as he walked out of range of the hologram projector before disappearing altogether. Eames quickly rose and followed, stepping out of the lounge and into the corridor. Arthur was waiting for him near the end of the corridor, and when he saw Eames he turned and walked around the corner. Curious, Eames continued to follow.
As Arthur led him further into the ship, Eames realized they were going to an area that he hadn't been to before. He guessed it was somewhere close to the center of the ship, but besides that he wasn't entirely sure about where he was. He was completely dependent on Arthur, who continued to give him directions from a distance. If Eames lost sight of the interface, he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to find his way back.
When Eames finally caught up with Arthur, the interface was standing in front of a door. Eames gave Arthur a questioning look, but Arthur didn't say anything to explain himself. Instead, he waved his hand over the keypad next to the door. The keys on the pad pressed themselves, punching out a code before letting out a cheerful chime. The door slid open without a sound. Arthur glanced over at Eames and tilted his head, silently inviting the man to go inside.
After a moment's hesitation, Eames stepped through the door. He found himself in a room that was bare of any decorations, save for the screens and control panels that lined the walls. In the middle of the room, amidst a tangle of wires, was a man.
Realizing where he was, Eames shot a startled glance at Arthur. The interface, however, had disappeared-it was likely that he couldn't create a hologram within his own room-leaving Eames to his own devices. Nervous, Eames hesitantly stepped towards the man in the room.
It was Arthur-as if it could be anybody else. This version of him, the real version of him, was pale and thin, his dark hair loose and falling into his face. He was standing, but his eyes were closed and his posture was relaxed, as if he was asleep on his feet. Wires were embedded at the nape of his neck and down his spine at regular intervals. Arthur looked vulnerable like this, in a way that tugged at Eames' heart.
"Arthur," he murmured, "you, you're-"
"I know." Arthur's voice came from every corner of the room. His actual body remained silent. "I warned you that I didn't look-"
"Lovely," Eames finished. "You look lovely, Arthur."
Eames reached out, cupping Arthur's face and tilting it up so that he could get a better look. He ran his thumb along the line of one of Arthur's cheekbone. A soft sound, almost like an unsteady breath, echoed through the room. Unable to resist, Eames leaned forward.
"Don't," Arthur admonished, voice soft. "I'd lose my concentration and we'd drop out of orbit."
Eames laughed gently and settled for merely brushing his thumb along the curve of Arthur's lower lip. He then let Arthur go, allowing the other man's head to droop back down. After one last moment to look Arthur over, Eames turned and left the room.
The interface was waiting for him outside, looking slightly apprehensive. Eames gave him a reassuring smile.
"Thank you," Eames said. He meant it. It couldn't have been an easy decision for Arthur to show this part of himself.
"As long as I didn't scare you off," Arthur said. He gave Eames a searching look. "Did I?"
Eames grinned. "Not a chance, darling."
~*
For the next several days, things settled back into their normal pace. Eames and Arthur talked to each other in the evenings again, going over work or whatever else came to mind. The only difference was that sometimes, during the brief pauses between conversations, Eames would catch Arthur giving him a fond look. It wasn't an obvious expression, and mostly showed through his eyes. Eames was still able to catch it, though, and every time he did he felt a surge of happiness. Eames was less subtle with his affection, using pet names for Arthur and, while touching wasn't possible, he lingered closer than usual to the interface's form. It was enough to make Eames content, and Arthur seemed to be happy about the situation as well.
Two weeks later Eames woke up from trying to forge his brother to find Ariadne and Arthur talking to each other. That wouldn't have alerted Eames-Ariadne and Arthur talked often while helping the Cobbs-but they were speaking in low, argumentative tones. Curious, Eames stepped closer and listened in.
"If Yusuf cleared the extra dosage, I don't understand what the problem is," Arthur said.
"The problem is that they should have woken up half an hour ago," Ariadne said. "So unless you got the timer wrong-"
"You know I'm never wrong."
"Then why aren't you more worried about all of this?"
"About what?" Eames asked.
Ariadne turned to him, looking exasperated. "Dom and Mal are testing out multi-level dreaming and they should have woken up thirty minutes ago. And yes, they did clear the extra Somnacin dose they wanted to use with Yusuf," she shot a glare at Arthur, "but it should've worn off by now."
"Then why not just wake them up?" Eames asked. "That should be simple enough."
"I've tried," Arthur said. "Nothing's worked. I think they're too deep for anything to work."
"Then I think we're stuck waiting for them to wake up," Eames said, with an apologetic glance at Ariadne.
Arthur nodded in agreement. "I'll watch them," he told Ariadne. "I'll tell you when they wake up."
"Thank you," she said, and left the lab.
Eames watched her go, and then looked over at Arthur. "You're worried," he said.
"Yes," Arthur replied, his voice steady. "Ariadne's right; they should have woken up by now."
"They will soon," Eames said softly. "I'm sure of it."
Arthur smiled at him, but he quickly sobered up and glanced at the room the Cobbs were in. "You can go, too," he said. "I know forging tires you out."
Eames frowned slightly. "Will you be fine on your own?"
"Yeah," Arthur said, "I will. Go on."
Eames wanted to reach out and comfort Arthur, but he restrained himself. Instead he nodded. "You know where to find me," he said, and walked out of the lab. When he glanced back, he found Arthur watching him. The interface then walked toward the Cobbs' room and faded out of sight.
~*
"Eames."
Eames groaned, rolling over and checking the clock. It was three in the morning. He squinted blearily up at the silhouette of Arthur standing over his bed. "What is it?" he mumbled.
"Dom and Mal have woken up." Arthur hesitated, before adding, "We may have a problem."
Rubbing a hand over his face, Eames sat up. "What sort of problem?"
"It's not something I think I can fully describe. Meet us in the lab; Ariadne and Yusuf should already be there." With that, Arthur's form vanished.
Eames scrubbed the last remnants of sleep off his face and quickly got dressed, wanting to get to the lab as soon as possible. He didn't think he had been imagining the edge of nerves in Arthur's voice, and that made him nervous as well. Whatever was waiting for him wasn't going to be good.
Ariadne was standing near the lab doors, nervously glancing farther in every now and then. "Arthur got you, too?" she asked when she caught sight of Eames.
"Yeah," Eames said. "Whatever's going on must be serious."
"All I know is that Yusuf's been in the other room with Mal for almost an hour now," the young assistant said, "and Dom hasn’t moved from that spot since they went in there."
Following the direction of Ariadne's nod, Eames saw Dom standing next to the door leading to one of the side rooms. He was shifting from foot to foot, raking his hands through his hair and tugging on his shirtsleeves. There was an odd air to his movements, Eames noticed. It was as if Dom was being careful with how he moved, like he had become delicate. Or old.
Shouts erupted from the side room, startling everyone in the lab. It sounded like Mal, but her words were indistinct through the wall. A moment later the door slid open, and Yusuf backed out of the room. For a few seconds Mal's yells became clear.
"-understand! Nothing's here, nothing's real! We're still dream-"
The door slid shut again, cutting off Mal's words. Looking shaken, Yusuf walked over to Dom and said something in a low tone. Dom's expression sharpened for a moment and he spoke, voice turning up into a question at the end. Yusuf shook his head the slightest bit. Stunned, Dom took a step back and covered his mouth with his hand. The doctor gave him a look full of pity and made his way towards Ariadne and Eames.
"What happened?" Ariadne demanded. "What's going on with Mal?"
"It seems like Dom and Mal went down far too many levels," Yusuf explained, weary. "They arrived in a place of pure subconscious and lost themselves in it. They spent the equivalent of a lifetime down there."
Ariadne flinched, and Eames' stomach clenched. The Cobbs had only been asleep for a few hours. What was it like to live a lifetime and then wake up to find yourself young again, aged hours instead of years? How does someone adjust to that? "And Mal?" he prompted.
"There was some…disorientation upon waking up," Yusuf said. "While Dom adjusted well enough, Mal didn't. She's still convinced that she's in a dream, that she needs to wake up. I tried to explain that this was reality, but, well, you saw her reaction."
"Christ." Eames wiped his lips with a shaking hand. "That's terrible."
"You're forgetting the Bulsomn." Arthur had appeared behind Yusuf, making them all jump. "When Dom and Mal went under that far, so did the Bulsomn connecting them."
"I don't see him," Ariadne murmured, glancing around the lab. "What happened to him?"
"He went insane," Arthur said, voice flat. "The rest of his people took him back to the planet on their shuttle. There was talk of possible retribution for his affliction."
"Do the Bulsomn have the technology to attack us?" Eames asked, startled.
"Yes. And what's worse, they're probably serious. They're a very tight-knit culture. An attack on one, no matter how unintentional, could be seen as an attack on all of them."
"We could leave before they attacked," Ariadne said. "Arthur, is that possible?"
The interface tilted his head in thought. "I can move the ship, but it will have to take a couple days to prepare for something like that-we've been sedentary for a long time." He hesitated. "I'd also need Dom's permission."
"I'll talk to him," Ariadne said, and left the small group.
"I'm going to stay with Mal," Yusuf said. "I may be able to do something about her condition, but I need more data."
"I'll prep the ship for departure," Arthur told Yusuf. "Hopefully Ariadne will have talked Dom around by that point."
The doctor and the interface nodded to each other before parting ways, Yusuf going back to the other room and Arthur flickering out of sight. This left Eames standing in the middle of the lab, alone. There really was nothing he could do about the situation, he realized. Everyone else had everything covered. Shrugging, he stepped out of the lab, intent on returning to his room.
A voice stopped him in the corridor: "Eames."
Arthur was standing a few yards away. He was pale, and his jaw was clenched in what looked like irritation. "What is it?" Eames asked.
"When we're attacked-and there will be an attack-I want you to get on the shuttle as soon as you can," Arthur said. "Leave with the others."
"What about you?"
Arthur smiled, and there was a bitter edge to it. "I'll go down with the ship."
There wasn't a trace of emotion in his voice. If it weren't for Arthur's expression, Eames would have thought that the interface was completely fine with dying for the sake of the rest of the crew. Stunned, Eames' mouth worked as he tried to figure out what to say. He finally settled on the most prominent question on his mind: "Why?"
"Someone has to keep the ship in orbit for as long as possible." Arthur shrugs. "Since I'm this ship's computer, that someone will be me."
"That's-" Wrong. Ludicrous. Not going to happen. Eames wanted to say something to that effect, but the look on Arthur's face kept him from finishing his sentence. He nodded weakly instead, letting out a quiet, "Okay."
"I'm serious, Eames," Arthur said, locking eyes with him. "I don't want you pulling any heroics. No coming after me. Got it?"
Eames clenched his hands into fists, wanting to refuse, to argue the point, but he could tell it was a lost cause. Arthur was determined to do this the way he had set it up-to doom himself. "Fine," he muttered.
Arthur's expression softened the slightest bit at Eames' tone. "There's no other way to do this," he said. "You see that, don't you?"
"Sure," Eames snapped. "Of course I see why you have to set up a suicide mission for yourself. I'm perfectly willing to watch you die for this."
"Eames-"
"Don't. Just…don't."
He stalked off in the direction of his room, needing space. Arthur, luckily, had enough sense to leave Eames alone. Right now Eames had to figure out all of the thoughts swirling through his mind, and he couldn't do that and deal with the interface at the same time.
When he reached his room, he closed and locked the door, hoping that would be an obvious message to everyone else. Lying down on the bed, Eames tried to sort through his thoughts.
He didn't get any sleep that night.
~*
The attack came three days later.
Four Bulsomn ships boxed the Inception in and opened fire, taking down her shields almost immediately. The alarm to abandon ship flashed on, and Eames scrambled down to the hangar as fast as he could. Yusuf and Ariadne were already there, both looking panicked about the situation.
"Where's Mal and Dom?" Eames asked as soon as he was close enough to be heard.
"I don't know," Ariadne said. "Dom said he was going to get Mal, and I haven't seen them since."
"And Arthur?"
The young assistant hesitated. "He can't come," she said. "He needs to keep the ship in the air-"
"At this rate there won't be a ship to keep in the air." Eames thought at a furious pace before reaching a decision. "Are the hangar doors open?"
Yusuf nodded, jerking a thumb at the open doors, where only a force field was keeping the air within the ship. "That was the first thing Arthur did. The force field should keep any Bulsomn ships from getting in, but we can get out."
"Good. Get the shuttle ready for takeoff. When the ship goes onto auxiliary power, wait for ten minutes and then go."
Ariadne gave Eames an alarmed look. "But what about you?"
"Go without me if I'm not back in time." He gave a stern look to both Ariadne and Yusuf. "I mean it."
Ariadne looked frightened for him, but Yusuf nodded. "Good luck, mate," he said.
Eames nodded in return, then turned and ran out of the hangar. He took the lift up to the center of the ship and stepped out, looking at the corridors that branched off from his location. After a moment of contemplation he tilted his head towards the ceiling.
"Arthur," he said. "Arthur, I could use a little help."
The interface's hologram appeared, but it continuously flickered and fuzzed out, like a bad signal. "You promised not to," Arthur said. He sounded tired.
"I lied. So either point me in the right direction, or leave me to wander around until we both die."
Arthur seemed to consider him (it was hard to tell with the constantly shifting hologram) before finally pointing down one corridor. Eames ran down it, not even pausing to thank the interface for the help.
With Arthur leading the way, Eames made it to the central room in five minutes. Just as he caught sight of a familiar-looking door, however, the ship rocked violently, causing Eames to lose his footing and go sprawling on the floor. At the same time the lights went out. As Eames shoved himself back to standing, the auxiliary lights weakly blinked on.
"Shit." He now had ten minutes to get Arthur and return to the hangar. Sprinting down the final length of hallway, Eames stepped through the open door and into Arthur's room.
The blow to the ship had apparently jarred Arthur out of his position, because he was now stretched out on his side on the floor. Most of his wires were still in their place, but they were stretched taut, at their limit. Arthur was weakly pawing at the floor, trying to move forward and failing.
"Oh, darling," Eames breathed, before rushing over and kneeling next to the dark-haired man. After studying the situation, he said, "I'm going to unplug you, alright?"
Arthur shook his head. "No," he rasped. "It'll take too long. Just go."
"If I hadn't made it clear yet, love, I'm not exactly planning to leave without you."
Grasping the wire at the base of Arthur's spine, Eames pulled. The wire separated from its port with the faint sound of metal scraping on metal. Arthur made a small noise that almost sounded like pain, but he didn't tell Eames to stop. Eames went up Arthur's spine that way, removing wire after wire. Soon enough he was at the thickest one, located at the base of Arthur's skull.
"I've a feeling this one will hurt," he said. "Brace yourself."
After Arthur curled his hands into weak fists, Eames yanked the wire out. Arthur gasped harshly and writhed, eyes squeezed shut in obvious pain. After a few moments he finally relaxed again.
"Okay," the dark-haired man breathed, "okay. Get me out of here."
Eames was happy to oblige. He didn't even try to get Arthur to walk, and instead hefted him over his shoulder and ran back down the halls. Another tremor made Eames lurch when he was almost to the lift, but he managed to keep his footing. After that the ship continuously shook underneath him, intensifying every now and then to a shuddering jolt.
"What's going on?" Eames asked, setting Arthur on his feet in the lift.
"The ship doesn't have enough power to stay in orbit, since it's been heavily damaged and I'm gone," Arthur said. "We're going down, it seems."
Cursing, Eames picked Arthur up again as soon as the lift stopped and bolted out of the doors the moment they opened. He was in the hangar in seconds, and saw that the shuttle was still there. It looked moments away from taking off, though, so Eames didn't slow his pace across the hangar's floor.
The door on the shuttles side slid open and Ariadne leaned out. "Hurry!" she called, holding her hands out.
Eames took the invitation and handed Arthur open as soon as he could, making sure Ariadne could carry the other man's weight before fully letting go. He then pulled himself on board and slammed the door shut.
"Get us out of here," he yelled at Yusuf, who was in the pilot's seat.
"You don't have to tell me twice." With a punch of a few buttons and a nudge of the throttle, the shuttle was airborne and making its way out of the hangar.
They made it out just in time. Seconds after they left the Inception, the broken ship reached the Bulsomn planet's atmosphere and began to burn. Eames watched it for a moment, solemn, before moving away from the window and bringing his focus back into the shuttle.
Ariadne was laying Arthur out on one of the shuttles beds, being mindful of his delicate state. "Dom and Mal," Arthur asked, clutching at Ariadne's sleeve, "did they…?"
"They never showed up," Ariadne murmured. "They went down with the ship."
Arthur went completely still, his hand falling limp from Ariadne's sleeve. After a few second's pause, he rolled onto his side and curled up into a ball, a clear sign that he wanted to be left alone. Ariadne gave him the space he required, stepping up to the front of the shuttle to keep Yusuf company.
"The Bulsomn aren't attacking," she said as she sat down. "Why?"
"I think they only wanted us to leave," Yusuf answered, "and since it's obvious that that's what we're doing…"
Filtering them out, Eames stepped over to Arthur's bed and took a seat next to it. He did nothing beyond that, waiting for Arthur to make the next move.
A few minutes later, Arthur broke the silence between them. "Dom and Mal are dead."
"Yes," Eames said, as gently as he could.
Arthur curled up into a tighter ball. "All because of me," he whispered.
Eames snorted. "You didn't ask for a Bulsomn to attack the ship and knock you offline. You didn't tell Dom to go after Mal."
"I saw him agree to stay, though," the other man said. "I saw them decide to go down with the ship. I could have stopped them."
"How? They loved each other too much, Arthur. They weren't going anywhere without each other and you know that."
Arthur was silent, but he had uncurled his body a little bit. He closed his eyes, and Eames couldn't tell if it was because of pain or exhaustion. Tentatively he reached out and laid light fingers against Arthur's cheek.
"You alright, love?"
The dark-haired man leaned into Eames' touch. "No." A ghost of a smile. "My head feels too small."
Eames chuckled. After being plugged into a ship's database, Arthur was sure to feel a little big within the confines of his own skull. "You'll get used to it," Eames said, brushing a thumb across Arthur's cheekbone.
Arthur reached up and covered Eames' hand with his own. "I'm glad you're here," he murmured. He squeezed Eames' hand. "I'm glad I'm here. With you."
Tilting Arthur's face up, Eames leaned forward and did what he had wanted to do the first time he had laid eyes on the real Arthur: he brushed his lips against the other man's. He pulled back after a lingering moment to give Arthur a soft smile and murmur, "So am I."
EPILOGUE
A year after the destruction of the Inception, Arthur was barely recognizable. Eames had nursed him back to health, helping him gain weight and patiently strengthening his muscles. Now Arthur looked like anyone else, save for the small, round port at the base of his skull. When he slicked back his hair, though, it was difficult to see, which pleased Arthur quite a bit. He liked blending in, liked being part of a crowd, and would do anything he could to make that possible.
Eames had gone back to lecturing, talking about the research he had done aboard the Inception and talking about dreams in general. Arthur never became an interface again, content with becoming a data analyst for a large computer company. Both men settled into their routines quickly, until they became everyday and uneventful. It was a satisfying, albeit slightly boring, way to live.
Their relationship grew with the passing months. It probably helped that they started living together after immediately after returning to Earth, since Eames had wanted to take care of Arthur. So now, one year after the Inception was attacked, they were still together and going strong.
Eames stood in the living room, watching Arthur. The younger man was sitting on the back porch, head tilted back so that he could look at the darkening sky. From this angle Eames could only see Arthur's back, and therefore couldn't see whatever expression was currently on the other man's face. After studying Arthur for another minute or so, Eames opened the back door and stepped out onto the porch.
"What are you thinking about?" Eames asked, noting the slight frown on Arthur's face.
Arthur glanced at Eames before returning his gaze to the sky. The older man sat down next to Arthur and waited for him to speak. One thing Eames had learned over the last year was that without the acceleration of being plugged into a computer, it took Arthur a longer while to gather his thoughts. He was getting better at it, though, and was responding faster now than he had been a few months ago.
"About the year," Arthur finally said. "About…the Inception."
The older man studied Arthur's face. "You miss them."
Arthur nodded, but said nothing beyond that. He had gotten past his mourning of Dom and Mal with Eames' help, but sometimes he would simply miss their presence in his life. Things seemed a little less exciting without the Cobbs and their experiments in dreamshare.
When he shared this thought with Eames, it made the older man smile. "Actually, that's why I came out here," Eames said. "Ariadne just called."
The younger man tilted his head, a silent prompt for Eames to continue.
"Well, it seems like our young colleague has been working with Yusuf on recreating dreamshare without the use of a third party. It seems like they just figured it out. They call it the PASIV device." Eames grinned. "They're looking for test subjects."
Arthur was silent. He could probably see where Eames was going with this, but he seemed to want Eames to say it.
"Well?" Eames asked. "Would you like to finally try out dreamshare yourself? With me?"
Arthur looked up at the sky again, thinking it through. Eames didn't pressure the other man and sat there, watching. While Eames himself was eager to try dreamshare again, he was also aware of Arthur's associations with the subject. He had only recently recovered from Dom and Mal, and Eames didn't want to unintentionally reopen that wound.
Finally, after a full five minutes, Arthur looked at Eames again. He was smiling. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, let's do it."
Laughing a little, Eames leaned forward and kissed Arthur thoroughly. "Yes, darling," he said. "Let's."