Shattered Beneath Your Fingers (Part 3)
Author's notes: This is a companion story to The Consequences of Trust a.k.a. Eames POV.
Beta(s): queenofinfinite and space_raider182
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.
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Part 1 Part 2
It’s been nearly a year since Eames had worked with Arthur last. Not like he hadn’t tried, it’s just that Arthur wasn’t working any jobs. Not the ones that Eames had been able to find out about at least. He’d only heard of him working a single job, with Ariadne, four months back and there had been no use for a forger. He couldn’t even try and weasel his way in, the job was so simple. Too easy for someone as talented as Arthur, by far.
It’s like Arthur was avoiding work. But that’s just silly. Surely it’s just that Arthur is taking a vacation. Arthur didn’t need money, that’s certain. The man was brilliant with his finances. He never needed to work again with all the successful six figure jobs under his belt. Eames knew that Arthur did it because he loved it. Arthur did it for the challenge, for the dreams, for the creation. He did it because it made him necessary and useful. He did it because he could be the best.
It’s been nearly a year and finally Eames will get to see Arthur again because Ariadne had called needing help. And Eames has to wonder what she’s gotten herself into to sound so tight and panicked on the phone. He’d worked with her several times over the last year, but the real reason he’s here is because Arthur is here. Not that he’d abandon Ariadne or anything, but he’s not lying to himself about his motivations.
When he arrives at the office he’d greeted by Ariadne alone. Arthur is nowhere to be seen. He ribs the tiny architect a little, to break some of the tension that’s built up in the pit of his stomach and then sits at one of the small desks. He idly picks up a few photographs to have something to do when a door clicks open to his right. Arthur emerges from what appears to be a small restroom.
The man seems strained somehow. Tight around the shoulders and much too serious. The Arthur that he knows, while being somewhat of a tight ass, is usually much more relaxed than this. He’s a confident man and when focused, can be intimidating. But he’s never this sharp, all glass edges ready to shatter at any moment. Eames feel like he could just break him by looking at him, so he glances down and cools his voice, which is threatening to break, into a level tone.
“Arthur,” he says, because he doesn’t know what else to add.
And Arthur gives him a broken look. A little flash of pain before he boxes it up again, hardening visibly in front of him. Arthur doesn’t even say anything in return. He just nods curtly and with as much animosity as seemingly possible. Eames doesn’t know what to do.
***
Eames tries only once to fall back into the casual banter they formerly enjoyed, hoping that maybe they just needed to get back into the swing of things. That everything would come back if he just tried to make things normal again. But Arthur shuts him down with such sudden force that Eames gives up immediately.
Things remain tense for the rest of the job. Arthur keeps giving him watchful glances, like he’s tracking him. Eames ignores it, or pretends to rather. He wants to call him on it, but he also doesn’t want to make things worse. Ariadne needs this job to go smoothly. But when, one night, Arthur snaps, sprinting out of the shop and leaving confusion in his wake, Eames knows he needs to fix this. He’ll confront Arthur, after the job is complete.
With the little episode apparently behind him, Arthur bears down. There is never a time that Arthur isn’t buried in his research it seems. Eames finds himself busy tailing his subjects, and when he returns, Arthur is usually out surveying the mark or too wrapped up in research to be bothered. It’s like Arthur plans his day around how to best avoid any contact with him.
Ariadne keeps looking at Arthur worriedly and then looking at Eames, pleading with her eyes. Of course she’s trying her best to hide her thoughts, but she’s not a skilled actress at all. Eames can read people well anyway, and he’s going to have to coach her on hiding emotions. It doesn’t make it easy to manipulate her or anything, but it does make it easy to predict what she’ll do or say, and that’s a disadvantage in this line of work.
A few days before the job, Eames is perfecting his forge. He comes out of the mirror dream to an empty shop. It’s not unusual. Arthur can work from anywhere with his laptop. Wild dicks off as soon as he’s done running drills in the mazes. Ariadne can tweak up until the very end, but with the level pretty much finished, she heads out early more often than not to be with her man.
Eames is packing up the PASIV when he hears the front door open noisily. He squats down quickly, his hand instantly tracing over his pant leg where he has a sock holster with a loaded pistol. He doesn’t think whoever is entering is a threat. No one trying to get a drop on him would be that noisy or careless, but one can’t be too careful. Ariadne walks in from the entry room, one hand clutching the elbow of her arm in an unsure gesture.
“Ariadne, what are you doing here? It’s late.”
“I need to talk to you. About...” she sighs. “Well, about Arthur.”
“Hmmm,” Eames hums, not quite in agreement but not dismissive either. He shuts the PASIV with a click of the locks, turns and flops, defeated into a chair. Ariadne takes a seat, pulling a chair up close to his. She curls into the chair like a child would, legs tucked under her and leaning on the armrest. She’s a tiny thing, sometimes she seems so young.
Then she opens her mouth and she doesn’t seem young at all. Irritating and meddling, Yes. But she’s sharp. He’s often surprised at just how much so. And she’s insufferably to the point when she wants to be.
“What’s wrong with him, Eames?”
“Why do you presume that I know the answer to that?” he deflects. This is going to be severely uncomfortable, he knows. Ariadne levels a cool glare at him. She’s not having any of his bullshit, and Eames, oh he has all kinds of bullshit.
“It’s really not my place. I mean, even less so than with Cobb, because Cobb was risking all of us and Arthur really isn’t, but it’s not my place to butt into his business. I know something is wrong, though. He fucking snapped at me the other day. He’s never been anything but patient before. Something happened to him, Eames, and the way he reacts to you is just unsettling. You two don’t even bicker anymore. The Fischer job, I got that you guys had history and it wasn’t entirely serious and all, but this is different. He genuinely dislikes being around you.”
She’s on a rant. Eames just listens, not stopping her, because it’s true. It’s true and he needed to hear it from somewhere other than in his own head. Arthur can’t stand to be around him.
He’s zoned out in thought until he finds Ariadne is leaning in front of him, her face inches away from his own. She has a fierce look in her eye.
“What happened down there, Eames? He hasn’t been the same since the Weiss job.”
The Weiss job. He’d made a grave mistake. He should have never have left Arthur alone. He should have been stubborn, forced the issue. Even if Arthur never worked with him again, hated him, it would be better than watching him fall apart like this. But he hadn’t expected Arthur, of all people, to break.
“I didn’t think it would affect him like this. Arthur is always the fucking strong one, holding the pieces together with Cobb for so long and all.” He says, and it’s an excuse. Another deflection. This is his fault.
“You didn’t think what would affect him, Eames? I saw him wake up; he was a mess. Did you know he passed out for an hour after vomiting on the floor? I thought he was having a heart attack, Eames. It scared the shit out of me until I checked his pulse and he was still alive.”
“Fuck.”
“What happened? Jackson didn’t know anything. I asked. Why won’t you tell me?”
And then there is a noise at the door. They glance up, surprised to find it’s morning already. Arthur walks in, shoulders set with tension already. He stalks over to the desk. Eames knows he’s heard at least part of the conversation. Arthur never enters a room by broadcasting his position. Every line in his face is screaming anger, his jaw set hard like he could drive his teeth straight through his jaw.
Ariadne’s red with embarrassment. Eames doesn’t even have the energy to berate her on blatant tells in his mind this time. Arthur is a seething mass in the corner, and Eames just feels guilty.
***
The job goes well enough. Arthur disappeared for some reason, but the projections died down at the same time, so Eames has to assume he’s running interference. Wild is good. Not as good as Cobb, but also not as crazy. Eames plays his part and everything works out and he’s content in the knowledge that whatever their client had hanging over Ariadne’s head would be lifted. If it isn’t though, he’ll be sure to pay them a not so pleasant visit.
They’re leisurely cleaning out the shop, and Eames is thinking of ways to approach the situation. Dread is the only thing he feels stronger than the guilt. He doesn’t want to make another mistake, push too hard and make Arthur shut down completely. Before he has the chance though, Arthur is leaving.
A clipped goodbye is all they get before he disappears out the door. It’s so unexpected. Ariadne is goggling at him and even Wild has the good grace to look taken aback. Arthur never leaves first. He’s the fucking point and he is one of the most steadfast and dedicated points Eames has ever known - in his military career, or in dream sharing.
Eames finishes cleaning up, because he just can’t leave things out and about for people to find. And he’s pissed because he should be chasing after Arthur. By the time he makes it to the man’s apartment, it’s been cleared out. He checks the passenger itinerary at the closest airport.
He doesn’t find anyone matching any of the aliases he’s forged for Arthur which means Arthur has gone off grid. He’s using his own fakes and that’s going to put Eames way behind on his trail. He curses under his breath before returning to his small apartment to pack up.
He will find Arthur. He has to. Unfortunately, Arthur has always been good at covering his tracks.
continue to part 4
Beta(s): queenofinfinite and space_raider182
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
It’s been nearly a year since Eames had worked with Arthur last. Not like he hadn’t tried, it’s just that Arthur wasn’t working any jobs. Not the ones that Eames had been able to find out about at least. He’d only heard of him working a single job, with Ariadne, four months back and there had been no use for a forger. He couldn’t even try and weasel his way in, the job was so simple. Too easy for someone as talented as Arthur, by far.
It’s like Arthur was avoiding work. But that’s just silly. Surely it’s just that Arthur is taking a vacation. Arthur didn’t need money, that’s certain. The man was brilliant with his finances. He never needed to work again with all the successful six figure jobs under his belt. Eames knew that Arthur did it because he loved it. Arthur did it for the challenge, for the dreams, for the creation. He did it because it made him necessary and useful. He did it because he could be the best.
It’s been nearly a year and finally Eames will get to see Arthur again because Ariadne had called needing help. And Eames has to wonder what she’s gotten herself into to sound so tight and panicked on the phone. He’d worked with her several times over the last year, but the real reason he’s here is because Arthur is here. Not that he’d abandon Ariadne or anything, but he’s not lying to himself about his motivations.
When he arrives at the office he’d greeted by Ariadne alone. Arthur is nowhere to be seen. He ribs the tiny architect a little, to break some of the tension that’s built up in the pit of his stomach and then sits at one of the small desks. He idly picks up a few photographs to have something to do when a door clicks open to his right. Arthur emerges from what appears to be a small restroom.
The man seems strained somehow. Tight around the shoulders and much too serious. The Arthur that he knows, while being somewhat of a tight ass, is usually much more relaxed than this. He’s a confident man and when focused, can be intimidating. But he’s never this sharp, all glass edges ready to shatter at any moment. Eames feel like he could just break him by looking at him, so he glances down and cools his voice, which is threatening to break, into a level tone.
“Arthur,” he says, because he doesn’t know what else to add.
And Arthur gives him a broken look. A little flash of pain before he boxes it up again, hardening visibly in front of him. Arthur doesn’t even say anything in return. He just nods curtly and with as much animosity as seemingly possible. Eames doesn’t know what to do.
***
Eames tries only once to fall back into the casual banter they formerly enjoyed, hoping that maybe they just needed to get back into the swing of things. That everything would come back if he just tried to make things normal again. But Arthur shuts him down with such sudden force that Eames gives up immediately.
Things remain tense for the rest of the job. Arthur keeps giving him watchful glances, like he’s tracking him. Eames ignores it, or pretends to rather. He wants to call him on it, but he also doesn’t want to make things worse. Ariadne needs this job to go smoothly. But when, one night, Arthur snaps, sprinting out of the shop and leaving confusion in his wake, Eames knows he needs to fix this. He’ll confront Arthur, after the job is complete.
With the little episode apparently behind him, Arthur bears down. There is never a time that Arthur isn’t buried in his research it seems. Eames finds himself busy tailing his subjects, and when he returns, Arthur is usually out surveying the mark or too wrapped up in research to be bothered. It’s like Arthur plans his day around how to best avoid any contact with him.
Ariadne keeps looking at Arthur worriedly and then looking at Eames, pleading with her eyes. Of course she’s trying her best to hide her thoughts, but she’s not a skilled actress at all. Eames can read people well anyway, and he’s going to have to coach her on hiding emotions. It doesn’t make it easy to manipulate her or anything, but it does make it easy to predict what she’ll do or say, and that’s a disadvantage in this line of work.
A few days before the job, Eames is perfecting his forge. He comes out of the mirror dream to an empty shop. It’s not unusual. Arthur can work from anywhere with his laptop. Wild dicks off as soon as he’s done running drills in the mazes. Ariadne can tweak up until the very end, but with the level pretty much finished, she heads out early more often than not to be with her man.
Eames is packing up the PASIV when he hears the front door open noisily. He squats down quickly, his hand instantly tracing over his pant leg where he has a sock holster with a loaded pistol. He doesn’t think whoever is entering is a threat. No one trying to get a drop on him would be that noisy or careless, but one can’t be too careful. Ariadne walks in from the entry room, one hand clutching the elbow of her arm in an unsure gesture.
“Ariadne, what are you doing here? It’s late.”
“I need to talk to you. About...” she sighs. “Well, about Arthur.”
“Hmmm,” Eames hums, not quite in agreement but not dismissive either. He shuts the PASIV with a click of the locks, turns and flops, defeated into a chair. Ariadne takes a seat, pulling a chair up close to his. She curls into the chair like a child would, legs tucked under her and leaning on the armrest. She’s a tiny thing, sometimes she seems so young.
Then she opens her mouth and she doesn’t seem young at all. Irritating and meddling, Yes. But she’s sharp. He’s often surprised at just how much so. And she’s insufferably to the point when she wants to be.
“What’s wrong with him, Eames?”
“Why do you presume that I know the answer to that?” he deflects. This is going to be severely uncomfortable, he knows. Ariadne levels a cool glare at him. She’s not having any of his bullshit, and Eames, oh he has all kinds of bullshit.
“It’s really not my place. I mean, even less so than with Cobb, because Cobb was risking all of us and Arthur really isn’t, but it’s not my place to butt into his business. I know something is wrong, though. He fucking snapped at me the other day. He’s never been anything but patient before. Something happened to him, Eames, and the way he reacts to you is just unsettling. You two don’t even bicker anymore. The Fischer job, I got that you guys had history and it wasn’t entirely serious and all, but this is different. He genuinely dislikes being around you.”
She’s on a rant. Eames just listens, not stopping her, because it’s true. It’s true and he needed to hear it from somewhere other than in his own head. Arthur can’t stand to be around him.
He’s zoned out in thought until he finds Ariadne is leaning in front of him, her face inches away from his own. She has a fierce look in her eye.
“What happened down there, Eames? He hasn’t been the same since the Weiss job.”
The Weiss job. He’d made a grave mistake. He should have never have left Arthur alone. He should have been stubborn, forced the issue. Even if Arthur never worked with him again, hated him, it would be better than watching him fall apart like this. But he hadn’t expected Arthur, of all people, to break.
“I didn’t think it would affect him like this. Arthur is always the fucking strong one, holding the pieces together with Cobb for so long and all.” He says, and it’s an excuse. Another deflection. This is his fault.
“You didn’t think what would affect him, Eames? I saw him wake up; he was a mess. Did you know he passed out for an hour after vomiting on the floor? I thought he was having a heart attack, Eames. It scared the shit out of me until I checked his pulse and he was still alive.”
“Fuck.”
“What happened? Jackson didn’t know anything. I asked. Why won’t you tell me?”
And then there is a noise at the door. They glance up, surprised to find it’s morning already. Arthur walks in, shoulders set with tension already. He stalks over to the desk. Eames knows he’s heard at least part of the conversation. Arthur never enters a room by broadcasting his position. Every line in his face is screaming anger, his jaw set hard like he could drive his teeth straight through his jaw.
Ariadne’s red with embarrassment. Eames doesn’t even have the energy to berate her on blatant tells in his mind this time. Arthur is a seething mass in the corner, and Eames just feels guilty.
***
The job goes well enough. Arthur disappeared for some reason, but the projections died down at the same time, so Eames has to assume he’s running interference. Wild is good. Not as good as Cobb, but also not as crazy. Eames plays his part and everything works out and he’s content in the knowledge that whatever their client had hanging over Ariadne’s head would be lifted. If it isn’t though, he’ll be sure to pay them a not so pleasant visit.
They’re leisurely cleaning out the shop, and Eames is thinking of ways to approach the situation. Dread is the only thing he feels stronger than the guilt. He doesn’t want to make another mistake, push too hard and make Arthur shut down completely. Before he has the chance though, Arthur is leaving.
A clipped goodbye is all they get before he disappears out the door. It’s so unexpected. Ariadne is goggling at him and even Wild has the good grace to look taken aback. Arthur never leaves first. He’s the fucking point and he is one of the most steadfast and dedicated points Eames has ever known - in his military career, or in dream sharing.
Eames finishes cleaning up, because he just can’t leave things out and about for people to find. And he’s pissed because he should be chasing after Arthur. By the time he makes it to the man’s apartment, it’s been cleared out. He checks the passenger itinerary at the closest airport.
He doesn’t find anyone matching any of the aliases he’s forged for Arthur which means Arthur has gone off grid. He’s using his own fakes and that’s going to put Eames way behind on his trail. He curses under his breath before returning to his small apartment to pack up.
He will find Arthur. He has to. Unfortunately, Arthur has always been good at covering his tracks.
continue to part 4