Shattered Beneath Your Fingers (Part 5)
Author's notes: This is a companion story to The Consequences of Trust a.k.a. Eames POV.
This story is also no longer being beta'd. Please, any mistakes, point them out so that I may fix them! Thank you!
Warnings: Suicide Themes
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by the Christopher Nolan and Warner Bros. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. They are not mine, I just like to play with them.
___
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
“This is Cobb.” The greeting is clipped, impatient. Eames can hear a child shouting in the background.
“Hello, Cobb.” Eames says, he can practically feel the air come to a still through the phone line; can imagine Cobb’s shoulders tense.
“What’s happened?” Cobb’s voice is somber but sharp. Eames realizes, he probably thinks someone has died. It’s close enough to the truth, that it’s not amusing at all.
They hadn’t left off on the best of terms.
Though they made it out of Fischer’s dream safely, Eames was furious that Cobb had gambled with his life, with all their lives. Sure, Eames gambled with his own life regularly, but that was on his terms, when he knew the spread. He he didn’t bloody well tangle other people into it without telling them.
Cobb had tried to set up a job a short while after, something that was short and sweet, just to stay in the game. He didn’t want to leave his kids, but he still wanted to work. Eames had refused flat out; Dom was an adrenaline junkie, always pushing the limits. Eames isn’t surprised that Dom and Mal had found limbo, now that he knows. Those two were like a tornado, swirling around each other, circling danger like it couldn’t touch them. Irresponsible, he had thought, and that was something coming from him.
It was why they were so successful, in their time. It’s why they were the best. It’s why Miles let his own daughter experiment with something so untested, so dangerous. He couldn’t stop them, nobody could.
Eames didn’t want any part of Cobb trying to reclaim a position in dream sharing. He didn’t want any part of Cobb’s love affair of testing limits. He didn’t want to be involved the next time Cobb found himself in danger of losing his children. Thankfully Cobb seemed to take the hint; that is when Eames and Ariadne had refused and Arthur had been too busy. Cobb resigned himself to corporate militarization and teaching architecture then. That was just as well, in Eames mind: safe for the children, safe for Cobb, safe for everyone else.
Eames clears his throat uncomfortably. “I need your help,” he says.
***
Arthur doesn’t get any worse in the three days it takes Cobb to get here, but he also doesn’t get any better. Eames leaves him alone, doesn’t interfere at all. It’s clear what his interference is doing and he can’t, in good conscience, push Arthur any farther. But he won’t leave Arthur in the hotel alone, not for long at least. He goes to get food, because room service has a very limited menu when you stay for longer than a week, but he’s back before Arthur can muster the motivation to do anything stupid.
When Cobb finally arrives, he takes one look at Arthur before giving Eames a truly disdainful stare. His lips purse together in a tight line before he grits out a snappish greeting.
“What the fuck is going on, Eames?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I suggest you start now.”
Eames sighs. This isn’t going to be easy, but he called Cobb here for a reason. If anyone can help Arthur overcome this, it’s Cobb. For all that Eames dislikes how Cobb endangered the team, took unfathomable risks, he respects that Cobb overcame his issues to get things done. Eames doesn’t know how he would handle himself with the memory of someone he loved stalking around in his mind. He’s never been in limbo.
He starts explaining the Weiss job: what happened, Arthur’s reaction, Eames’ decision to leave him alone. He details Arthur’s behavior on the Colombia job, the last months of hunting Arthur down, of his reaction to the crowd at the the basilique, of the hospital, and taking Arthur under only for him to come out worse.
Cobb listens, nodding along, one hand folded across his chest grabbing at the elbow of his other arm. When Eames finishes his summery, Cobb sets his jaw and narrows his eyes before looking up at Eames.
“So, you’re telling me you just left him alone after seeing his reaction in the hotel room? If Arthur was fine he would have been ordering you around, not avoiding you. You’re the behavioral expert, what the hell were you thinking?”
Cobb glances over at Arthur who has seemed to come out if his daze at the raised voices.
“I … I don’t know,” Eames huffs resignedly chewing on his thumb again. He glances over at Arthur as well, the guilt knotting his stomach again. This really is all my fault, he thinks.
“The only reason I didn’t disintegrate after Mal’s death is because I had Arthur to hold me together.”
Cobb’s voice is just barely a whisper now. There’s something vulnerable in it, something Eames hasn’t ever heard before. Everyone could see the cracks in Cobb’s facade when he had been on the run. They could tell he was desperate, reckless, but he’d never let his guard down like this. He never admitted that he was barely hanging on. One statement and Eames knew the exact reason Arthur had stayed with Cobb, even when Cobb was putting him in danger. Arthur knew.
“Sometimes I wonder if he did it for me, or for Mal. She took care of him, you know? Treated him like a brother. He would have run himself into the ground had he stayed in the military. He didn’t trust anyone else to do things right, worked harder than anyone else, took on too much of the burden. They would have tested anything on him and he never would have fought it. They’d have kept using him until they put him in a coma, or worse. He didn’t have anyone until he had us.”
Eames looks at Cobb and sees a lifetime of wariness in every line of his face. He can see every year of limbo in his worried expression. He can see every day without Mal, in the slow bob of his Adam’s Apple as he swallows thickly. Cobb was giving away far too much. Eames doesn’t feel worthy of this knowledge.
“Cobb?” Arthur asks.
It’s the first time he’s said anything in days. Eames can hear the roughness of his unused voice. Cobb walks over and stand in front of Arthur nervously. He seems to be mulling something over, some big decision. Then he sinks down into a squat, bowing his head and whispering. He says something in french so soft that Eames can only pick up words.
Arthur bursts in to tears.
The sound of Arthur crying is the most distressing thing Eames has ever heard. It makes every hair on his body stand on end. He wants to turn away, run away, but he can’t. He doesn’t move. He’s frozen to the spot and chews on this thumb until he tastes the copper tang of blood. His cuticle is demolished, stinging with pain. He doesn’t really notice, because Arthur is sobbing, clutching his head and wailing at the floor.
Arthur cries for a full ten minutes. Cobb has since left his place crouching near the floor to sit and wrap an arm around Arthur protectively. He gently rocks him back and forth until Arthur eventually calms. Eames hasn’t left his spot near the door. He doesn’t trust himself to move; he wouldn’t know where his legs would take him. He stares at the broken tableau before him, and wonders if anything will ever be like it was before. He thinks it won’t.
Cobb asks Arthur if he’ll come with him to California, and Arthur agrees. Just like that, Arthur lets Cobb in. The pang of jealously is only outweighed by the relief that Arthur still has some fight left, some willingness to allow for help. Arthur seems to have calmed enough to look uncomfortable at Cobb’s proximity so Eames calls Cobb away to go over the logistics of the trip. Arthur hasn’t left the hotel once, since they’ve been here. How the hell is he going to handle a transcontinental flight?
***
“What are you doing?”
Eames nearly startles when Arthur speaks behind him. Arthur is silent as the grave lately and the fact that he says anything at all to him is surprising. He turns to see Arthur in the doorway. He tries not to let his nerves show and answers as levelly as he can.
“Packing, Darling.”
“You’re coming with?” Arthur asks, confused.
The question hurts. His chest clenches with indecision. Eames really doesn’t know if he should or shouldn’t tag along. He wonders if he’ll be doing more harm than good. But he decides to stick it out, at least until Arthur seems comfortable, stable maybe, even if it’s only for his own peace of mind.
“Of course I am, Arthur. I’m not leaving you again.” He replies, again trying to sound calm.
Arthur just looks at him blankly as he zips his bag closed. He thinks about packing for Arthur, but decides to let Arthur try. If Arthur doesn’t, he can always pack his bag quickly just before they leave. Eames slips past Arthur to speak with Cobb. He needs to go out to pick something up.
When he returns, Cobb is absently flipping through channels on the television. It’s just under two hours until their flight, they should be heading out now, so he’s a little worried to not see Arthur sitting on the couch next to Cobb. Cobb seems to pick up on his train of thought.
“He’s asleep. It seems like he needs it, so I changed our flight. We have four hours.”
Eames nods his head in approval. Arthur really does need the sleep; he doesn’t get more than a few hours a night it seems. When he does sleep, Eames notices that he often bolts upright in bed from some nightmare. He doesn’t shout or anything, but Eames is a light sleeper. When Arthur startles awake and scrambles for his totem looking like a frightened teenager, like he has no control, it bothers Eames. He hates to think of Arthur as vulnerable, lost, or young.
Eames sets his paper bag down on the desk. He goes to sit with Cobb on the suite’s sofa, sighing as he collapses onto the cushions. He’s exhausted from being on edge. There’s nothing he can do, but he can’t not do anything either. Living with Arthur, twenty four hours a day, just to make sure he stays alive, is daunting. But he would do it for the rest of his life to make up for his mistake. Cobb gives him a worried look.
“Are you ok, Eames?”
Eames isn’t. But that doesn’t matter. Arthur matters. He doesn’t answer. Cobb nods once; he seems to take the hint that Eames doesn’t feel like talking about it.
“What’s in the bag?” Cobb asks instead, glancing up at the desk.
“Sedatives.”
“You think those are a good idea?”
“No. But if Arthur starts having a panic attack … we can’t really risk getting detained.”
Cobb nods mutely, dragging a hand through his hair. Eames notices that he wears it ungelled now. Everything about Cobb is a little more loose. He seems calmer, but then again, the last time Eames saw Cobb was when Cobb’s entire future was on the line.
They sit in silence, letting the sounds of the television fill to room. It’s uncomfortable, but Eames is too exhausted to do anything about it. Cobb seems agreeable enough to let it go. Eames will get Arthur to California, and go from there. Anything has to be better than this.
He mentally goes over a check list for the trip. His identity doesn’t have any warrants here, or in the United States. He’s fairly certain that Arthur’s current passport is clean. He doesn’t have the time to make anything new as it is so he’ll have to trust that Arthur’s months away from criminal activity is enough buffer, if his passport somehow does have a flag. He’s packed; he’ll check Arthur’s bag a little later. He has sedatives of a very strong nature. He’s glad he has a contact in France still. Not many of his mates are still dealing; he’s lucky the one who is specializes in pharmaceuticals and not street drugs.
He needs to call Ariadne.
He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials her number. Cobb gives him an interested glance. He ignores him; Cobb will figure it out soon enough. Ariadne picks up on the second ring.
“Everything ok?” She asks, straight to the point, not even an hello.
“Yes, yes. Just letting you know that we’re heading to California. Didn’t think leaving the country without telling you would be a good idea.”
“California?”
“We’re, staying with Cobb.”
“What?! What the hell, Eames?” He sees Cobb wince at hearing Ariadne’s screech. Ariadne is just as angry and distrustful of Cobb as Eames is. They’d had several conversations about her feelings on Cobb when she got over her sense of accomplishment and satisfaction over Inception. She had known more about how unstable Cobb was at the time, but hadn't known about limbo.
“Calm down, please. He’s not getting better, Ariadne. I didn’t know what else to do.”
She huffs a sigh over the telephone line, not arguing but making her dissatisfaction known. “I’ll be there in a few weeks. I have a job right now, but as soon as it’s over …”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“I am not leaving you to deal with Arthur and Cobb alone. No arguments.”
“Fine,” he relents. He’s in no mood to fight, especially over something he would lose anyway. There’s no stopping her when her mind is set.
“Ok. Ok, Eames. I have to go. I’ll see you soon.” Eames hums confirmation. He feels utterly defeated, like he can’t control anything that is happening to him, or to Arthur. He’s helpless against everything, including Ariadne.
“It will be ok, Eames,” she says. When he doesn’t respond she hangs up, not pressing.
part 6
This story is also no longer being beta'd. Please, any mistakes, point them out so that I may fix them! Thank you!
Warnings: Suicide Themes
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by the Christopher Nolan and Warner Bros. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. They are not mine, I just like to play with them.
___
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
“This is Cobb.” The greeting is clipped, impatient. Eames can hear a child shouting in the background.
“Hello, Cobb.” Eames says, he can practically feel the air come to a still through the phone line; can imagine Cobb’s shoulders tense.
“What’s happened?” Cobb’s voice is somber but sharp. Eames realizes, he probably thinks someone has died. It’s close enough to the truth, that it’s not amusing at all.
They hadn’t left off on the best of terms.
Though they made it out of Fischer’s dream safely, Eames was furious that Cobb had gambled with his life, with all their lives. Sure, Eames gambled with his own life regularly, but that was on his terms, when he knew the spread. He he didn’t bloody well tangle other people into it without telling them.
Cobb had tried to set up a job a short while after, something that was short and sweet, just to stay in the game. He didn’t want to leave his kids, but he still wanted to work. Eames had refused flat out; Dom was an adrenaline junkie, always pushing the limits. Eames isn’t surprised that Dom and Mal had found limbo, now that he knows. Those two were like a tornado, swirling around each other, circling danger like it couldn’t touch them. Irresponsible, he had thought, and that was something coming from him.
It was why they were so successful, in their time. It’s why they were the best. It’s why Miles let his own daughter experiment with something so untested, so dangerous. He couldn’t stop them, nobody could.
Eames didn’t want any part of Cobb trying to reclaim a position in dream sharing. He didn’t want any part of Cobb’s love affair of testing limits. He didn’t want to be involved the next time Cobb found himself in danger of losing his children. Thankfully Cobb seemed to take the hint; that is when Eames and Ariadne had refused and Arthur had been too busy. Cobb resigned himself to corporate militarization and teaching architecture then. That was just as well, in Eames mind: safe for the children, safe for Cobb, safe for everyone else.
Eames clears his throat uncomfortably. “I need your help,” he says.
***
Arthur doesn’t get any worse in the three days it takes Cobb to get here, but he also doesn’t get any better. Eames leaves him alone, doesn’t interfere at all. It’s clear what his interference is doing and he can’t, in good conscience, push Arthur any farther. But he won’t leave Arthur in the hotel alone, not for long at least. He goes to get food, because room service has a very limited menu when you stay for longer than a week, but he’s back before Arthur can muster the motivation to do anything stupid.
When Cobb finally arrives, he takes one look at Arthur before giving Eames a truly disdainful stare. His lips purse together in a tight line before he grits out a snappish greeting.
“What the fuck is going on, Eames?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I suggest you start now.”
Eames sighs. This isn’t going to be easy, but he called Cobb here for a reason. If anyone can help Arthur overcome this, it’s Cobb. For all that Eames dislikes how Cobb endangered the team, took unfathomable risks, he respects that Cobb overcame his issues to get things done. Eames doesn’t know how he would handle himself with the memory of someone he loved stalking around in his mind. He’s never been in limbo.
He starts explaining the Weiss job: what happened, Arthur’s reaction, Eames’ decision to leave him alone. He details Arthur’s behavior on the Colombia job, the last months of hunting Arthur down, of his reaction to the crowd at the the basilique, of the hospital, and taking Arthur under only for him to come out worse.
Cobb listens, nodding along, one hand folded across his chest grabbing at the elbow of his other arm. When Eames finishes his summery, Cobb sets his jaw and narrows his eyes before looking up at Eames.
“So, you’re telling me you just left him alone after seeing his reaction in the hotel room? If Arthur was fine he would have been ordering you around, not avoiding you. You’re the behavioral expert, what the hell were you thinking?”
Cobb glances over at Arthur who has seemed to come out if his daze at the raised voices.
“I … I don’t know,” Eames huffs resignedly chewing on his thumb again. He glances over at Arthur as well, the guilt knotting his stomach again. This really is all my fault, he thinks.
“The only reason I didn’t disintegrate after Mal’s death is because I had Arthur to hold me together.”
Cobb’s voice is just barely a whisper now. There’s something vulnerable in it, something Eames hasn’t ever heard before. Everyone could see the cracks in Cobb’s facade when he had been on the run. They could tell he was desperate, reckless, but he’d never let his guard down like this. He never admitted that he was barely hanging on. One statement and Eames knew the exact reason Arthur had stayed with Cobb, even when Cobb was putting him in danger. Arthur knew.
“Sometimes I wonder if he did it for me, or for Mal. She took care of him, you know? Treated him like a brother. He would have run himself into the ground had he stayed in the military. He didn’t trust anyone else to do things right, worked harder than anyone else, took on too much of the burden. They would have tested anything on him and he never would have fought it. They’d have kept using him until they put him in a coma, or worse. He didn’t have anyone until he had us.”
Eames looks at Cobb and sees a lifetime of wariness in every line of his face. He can see every year of limbo in his worried expression. He can see every day without Mal, in the slow bob of his Adam’s Apple as he swallows thickly. Cobb was giving away far too much. Eames doesn’t feel worthy of this knowledge.
“Cobb?” Arthur asks.
It’s the first time he’s said anything in days. Eames can hear the roughness of his unused voice. Cobb walks over and stand in front of Arthur nervously. He seems to be mulling something over, some big decision. Then he sinks down into a squat, bowing his head and whispering. He says something in french so soft that Eames can only pick up words.
Arthur bursts in to tears.
The sound of Arthur crying is the most distressing thing Eames has ever heard. It makes every hair on his body stand on end. He wants to turn away, run away, but he can’t. He doesn’t move. He’s frozen to the spot and chews on this thumb until he tastes the copper tang of blood. His cuticle is demolished, stinging with pain. He doesn’t really notice, because Arthur is sobbing, clutching his head and wailing at the floor.
Arthur cries for a full ten minutes. Cobb has since left his place crouching near the floor to sit and wrap an arm around Arthur protectively. He gently rocks him back and forth until Arthur eventually calms. Eames hasn’t left his spot near the door. He doesn’t trust himself to move; he wouldn’t know where his legs would take him. He stares at the broken tableau before him, and wonders if anything will ever be like it was before. He thinks it won’t.
Cobb asks Arthur if he’ll come with him to California, and Arthur agrees. Just like that, Arthur lets Cobb in. The pang of jealously is only outweighed by the relief that Arthur still has some fight left, some willingness to allow for help. Arthur seems to have calmed enough to look uncomfortable at Cobb’s proximity so Eames calls Cobb away to go over the logistics of the trip. Arthur hasn’t left the hotel once, since they’ve been here. How the hell is he going to handle a transcontinental flight?
***
“What are you doing?”
Eames nearly startles when Arthur speaks behind him. Arthur is silent as the grave lately and the fact that he says anything at all to him is surprising. He turns to see Arthur in the doorway. He tries not to let his nerves show and answers as levelly as he can.
“Packing, Darling.”
“You’re coming with?” Arthur asks, confused.
The question hurts. His chest clenches with indecision. Eames really doesn’t know if he should or shouldn’t tag along. He wonders if he’ll be doing more harm than good. But he decides to stick it out, at least until Arthur seems comfortable, stable maybe, even if it’s only for his own peace of mind.
“Of course I am, Arthur. I’m not leaving you again.” He replies, again trying to sound calm.
Arthur just looks at him blankly as he zips his bag closed. He thinks about packing for Arthur, but decides to let Arthur try. If Arthur doesn’t, he can always pack his bag quickly just before they leave. Eames slips past Arthur to speak with Cobb. He needs to go out to pick something up.
When he returns, Cobb is absently flipping through channels on the television. It’s just under two hours until their flight, they should be heading out now, so he’s a little worried to not see Arthur sitting on the couch next to Cobb. Cobb seems to pick up on his train of thought.
“He’s asleep. It seems like he needs it, so I changed our flight. We have four hours.”
Eames nods his head in approval. Arthur really does need the sleep; he doesn’t get more than a few hours a night it seems. When he does sleep, Eames notices that he often bolts upright in bed from some nightmare. He doesn’t shout or anything, but Eames is a light sleeper. When Arthur startles awake and scrambles for his totem looking like a frightened teenager, like he has no control, it bothers Eames. He hates to think of Arthur as vulnerable, lost, or young.
Eames sets his paper bag down on the desk. He goes to sit with Cobb on the suite’s sofa, sighing as he collapses onto the cushions. He’s exhausted from being on edge. There’s nothing he can do, but he can’t not do anything either. Living with Arthur, twenty four hours a day, just to make sure he stays alive, is daunting. But he would do it for the rest of his life to make up for his mistake. Cobb gives him a worried look.
“Are you ok, Eames?”
Eames isn’t. But that doesn’t matter. Arthur matters. He doesn’t answer. Cobb nods once; he seems to take the hint that Eames doesn’t feel like talking about it.
“What’s in the bag?” Cobb asks instead, glancing up at the desk.
“Sedatives.”
“You think those are a good idea?”
“No. But if Arthur starts having a panic attack … we can’t really risk getting detained.”
Cobb nods mutely, dragging a hand through his hair. Eames notices that he wears it ungelled now. Everything about Cobb is a little more loose. He seems calmer, but then again, the last time Eames saw Cobb was when Cobb’s entire future was on the line.
They sit in silence, letting the sounds of the television fill to room. It’s uncomfortable, but Eames is too exhausted to do anything about it. Cobb seems agreeable enough to let it go. Eames will get Arthur to California, and go from there. Anything has to be better than this.
He mentally goes over a check list for the trip. His identity doesn’t have any warrants here, or in the United States. He’s fairly certain that Arthur’s current passport is clean. He doesn’t have the time to make anything new as it is so he’ll have to trust that Arthur’s months away from criminal activity is enough buffer, if his passport somehow does have a flag. He’s packed; he’ll check Arthur’s bag a little later. He has sedatives of a very strong nature. He’s glad he has a contact in France still. Not many of his mates are still dealing; he’s lucky the one who is specializes in pharmaceuticals and not street drugs.
He needs to call Ariadne.
He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials her number. Cobb gives him an interested glance. He ignores him; Cobb will figure it out soon enough. Ariadne picks up on the second ring.
“Everything ok?” She asks, straight to the point, not even an hello.
“Yes, yes. Just letting you know that we’re heading to California. Didn’t think leaving the country without telling you would be a good idea.”
“California?”
“We’re, staying with Cobb.”
“What?! What the hell, Eames?” He sees Cobb wince at hearing Ariadne’s screech. Ariadne is just as angry and distrustful of Cobb as Eames is. They’d had several conversations about her feelings on Cobb when she got over her sense of accomplishment and satisfaction over Inception. She had known more about how unstable Cobb was at the time, but hadn't known about limbo.
“Calm down, please. He’s not getting better, Ariadne. I didn’t know what else to do.”
She huffs a sigh over the telephone line, not arguing but making her dissatisfaction known. “I’ll be there in a few weeks. I have a job right now, but as soon as it’s over …”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“I am not leaving you to deal with Arthur and Cobb alone. No arguments.”
“Fine,” he relents. He’s in no mood to fight, especially over something he would lose anyway. There’s no stopping her when her mind is set.
“Ok. Ok, Eames. I have to go. I’ll see you soon.” Eames hums confirmation. He feels utterly defeated, like he can’t control anything that is happening to him, or to Arthur. He’s helpless against everything, including Ariadne.
“It will be ok, Eames,” she says. When he doesn’t respond she hangs up, not pressing.
part 6