For verse tentatively called: All on Black
[[What follows is the beginning for a verse inspired by a picture where losing Dom sends Arthur into a downward spiral of crime, pain and possibly cruelty. Not applicable to anyone outside of the verse, which isn't entirely established yet, but dreamsofmazes I'm looking at you.]]
Arthur came to with a start, drawing a sharp breath and looking around. First class. Saito's latest acquisition. Inception, amazingly and stunningly, complete even as the wheels touched down with a muffled squelch of rubbed on the tarmac, and then a second touch down, smoother than the first. For all the money he'd paid, Saito would need to invest in better pilots it would seem.
First the Mark and then see to the PASIV and the others.
Withdrawing the needle, turning to put it away even as he saw movement. A petite flash and he nodded once, not looking up.
"Arthur."
"Minute," he said, working to clean up from their work, just another couple of tubes, Dom's and Saito's and... He looked up at the form over him, taller then Arthur with him down on one knee.
Ariadne stared down at him, expression grim. Opening her mouth, she started to speak, closing her mouth with a shake of her head. The plane turned, making their approach on the runway. Soon they would be disembarking, facing customs, and they were on a place with a man wanted for the possible murder of his wife, and the now comatose body of the infamous head of a major national corporation. And none of that mattered to Arthur in that moment.
Spinning on his heel, he drove to where Dom was, jerking the needle for his arm. No movement, not even the flicker of his eyes beneath the lids. He was deep, lost in limbo, and there was nothing Arthur could do. Not for Dom. Not yet.
His eyes closed, lips moving in a silent prayer to a God he hadn't spoken to his before his childhood had become misspent, and then he was on his feet again. Grabbing his case from the overhead compartment, he pulled out the passport he'd prepared when they'd started this job. Not the one with the name Dominic Cobb on it but one of a number of aliases that Arthur maintained for his partner.
"Ariadne, get Saito unhooked and put the PASIV away," he snapped softly. "Get it stowed and hidden. Now."
Already his hand was delving into Dom's inside jacket pocket, pulling out his real passport and replacing it. Eventually officials would find out the truth but until then, he had to buy them time. Time for him to get Ariadne out of the States, and for him and Eames to be on a place to somewhere. At this time, anywhere.
"Arthur."
No darling, no nicknames that he certainly thought were charming. The teasing lilt was gone as well, though Eames was careful to keep hidden what might well have been compassion in his eyes.
"Don't. Not right now."
It could be fixed. All of it could be fixed. Not on that plane, not with the government soon to breathing down their necks. There was no time for emotions, no time for the man Arthur could be, the friend he had been to Dom for years. If he wanted a snowball's chance in Hell of bringing Dom back, he had to not be in federal prison for use of a controlled substance and assisting a wanted man.
Hiding the real passport in his briefcase, Arthur caught movement from Ariadne. He grabbed her arm. "Whatever happens right now, do what I say. I'll get you out of this," he vowed, a flash of emotions in dark, pained eyes before he gave her a soft shrug. "Get ready for customs."
Arthur's gaze went high as he turned, unwilling to look at Dom's slumped form, chest barely rising and falling with every breath he took. "Eames." A nod of his head and the pointman was moving to the far end of the compartment, the forger on his heels.
"Get her through customs," Arthur hissed, voice low and rough. "Get her to the Air France check in. I'll meet up with her there. Explain this to her. I'm going to make a scene, give her a reason to get on the next plane to Paris. I don't want them questioning why she's leaving so soon."
"Arthur." Again that single word, giving him a very pointed look.
"Don't. Don't do this. Not now."
Their gazes met, almost warring and then Eames clapped Arthur on the shoulder. "When it's time, you know where to find me. I'll go with you. I'll make sure Yusuf is ready for it."
Arthur nodded even as the plane came to a stop. Again those dark eyes closed, shoulder straightening to a near military posture. "Get her out of here. Yusuf, go with them. I'll be in touch."
It wasn't the first time Arthur had rushed from a job, adrenaline pumping and everything trying desperately to fall apart. It was the first time in a lot of years that Dominic Cobb wasn't at his side through it all.
Grabbing his case, Arthur dropped to one knee at Dom's side, hearing the flight crew opening the doors and knowing the others were on their way out. His hand lightly covered Dom's.
"I'll be back for you," Arthur whispered, nearly choking on the words. "I promise, I'll come get you." Shaking his head hard, Arthur made his way to the front of the plane and down the passageway to customs. Soon enough the bodies would be found, lost in their own minds and unable to be woken. If he was lucky, Arthur would be on a plane for South America, Eames on his way to Mombasa, and Ariadne would be on her way to Paris. Except Arthur didn't believe in luck, he believed in planning.
Of course he didn't believe in tears either, no matter how much they stung his eyes as he waited his turn at customs, making his way at a near jog to the Air France counter. Ariadne stood to one side of the crowd, separate from it as it moved around her like a stone in a river. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, already moving closer.
"Arthur..." There was so much to that voice, so much given to a simple name. Pleading, hope, a need for him to say it had changed, that in those moments she had been before him that Dom had woken up.
"I will call you. Soon." He said it soft, pulling her in for a quick hug. Mostly so that he could whisper to her without the cameras catching it. "Do what I say and I will be in touch."
Moving back, he laughed. It wasn't a sound of amusement, but loud and mocking. "You actually thought I wanted you? Here? Are you kidding me?"
Arthur wasn't the actor Dom was but he was good enough. Except that deep down it was hard separating himself from the act, especially when it was Ariadne he was treating so horribly.
"Just... go back to your silly school and that damn city. I don't even know why I came there to begin with," he snapped, voice rising to ensure others were watching as he tossed the roll of bills at her. He'd palmed it from his briefcase earlier. A few thousand, enough to get her back to Paris. If all had gone as planned Eames and Yusuf were already on a plane. That only left her.
"Don't you dare call me. As if I'd want you in my life."
Turning away as even Ariadne stood gaping, Arthur didn't look back. She would get on the plane, of that he had ever faith. She would be on her way to Paris before they identified Dominic Cobb as the one on the plane.
All of Arthur's life had been about plans and planning, compartmentalizing and arranging everything until it was perfect. Putting his emotions and heart into a box until he freed Dom from Limbo was no different, locking away the pain he was feeling. Striding out into the sunlight, one bag over his shoulder and the other in his hand, Arthur drew a deep breath and realized his eyes weren't stinging anymore. His chest wasn't quite so tight either. He wasn't the man that had gotten on that plan ten hours earlier, but he would be again.
Some day.
Arthur came to with a start, drawing a sharp breath and looking around. First class. Saito's latest acquisition. Inception, amazingly and stunningly, complete even as the wheels touched down with a muffled squelch of rubbed on the tarmac, and then a second touch down, smoother than the first. For all the money he'd paid, Saito would need to invest in better pilots it would seem.
First the Mark and then see to the PASIV and the others.
Withdrawing the needle, turning to put it away even as he saw movement. A petite flash and he nodded once, not looking up.
"Arthur."
"Minute," he said, working to clean up from their work, just another couple of tubes, Dom's and Saito's and... He looked up at the form over him, taller then Arthur with him down on one knee.
Ariadne stared down at him, expression grim. Opening her mouth, she started to speak, closing her mouth with a shake of her head. The plane turned, making their approach on the runway. Soon they would be disembarking, facing customs, and they were on a place with a man wanted for the possible murder of his wife, and the now comatose body of the infamous head of a major national corporation. And none of that mattered to Arthur in that moment.
Spinning on his heel, he drove to where Dom was, jerking the needle for his arm. No movement, not even the flicker of his eyes beneath the lids. He was deep, lost in limbo, and there was nothing Arthur could do. Not for Dom. Not yet.
His eyes closed, lips moving in a silent prayer to a God he hadn't spoken to his before his childhood had become misspent, and then he was on his feet again. Grabbing his case from the overhead compartment, he pulled out the passport he'd prepared when they'd started this job. Not the one with the name Dominic Cobb on it but one of a number of aliases that Arthur maintained for his partner.
"Ariadne, get Saito unhooked and put the PASIV away," he snapped softly. "Get it stowed and hidden. Now."
Already his hand was delving into Dom's inside jacket pocket, pulling out his real passport and replacing it. Eventually officials would find out the truth but until then, he had to buy them time. Time for him to get Ariadne out of the States, and for him and Eames to be on a place to somewhere. At this time, anywhere.
"Arthur."
No darling, no nicknames that he certainly thought were charming. The teasing lilt was gone as well, though Eames was careful to keep hidden what might well have been compassion in his eyes.
"Don't. Not right now."
It could be fixed. All of it could be fixed. Not on that plane, not with the government soon to breathing down their necks. There was no time for emotions, no time for the man Arthur could be, the friend he had been to Dom for years. If he wanted a snowball's chance in Hell of bringing Dom back, he had to not be in federal prison for use of a controlled substance and assisting a wanted man.
Hiding the real passport in his briefcase, Arthur caught movement from Ariadne. He grabbed her arm. "Whatever happens right now, do what I say. I'll get you out of this," he vowed, a flash of emotions in dark, pained eyes before he gave her a soft shrug. "Get ready for customs."
Arthur's gaze went high as he turned, unwilling to look at Dom's slumped form, chest barely rising and falling with every breath he took. "Eames." A nod of his head and the pointman was moving to the far end of the compartment, the forger on his heels.
"Get her through customs," Arthur hissed, voice low and rough. "Get her to the Air France check in. I'll meet up with her there. Explain this to her. I'm going to make a scene, give her a reason to get on the next plane to Paris. I don't want them questioning why she's leaving so soon."
"Arthur." Again that single word, giving him a very pointed look.
"Don't. Don't do this. Not now."
Their gazes met, almost warring and then Eames clapped Arthur on the shoulder. "When it's time, you know where to find me. I'll go with you. I'll make sure Yusuf is ready for it."
Arthur nodded even as the plane came to a stop. Again those dark eyes closed, shoulder straightening to a near military posture. "Get her out of here. Yusuf, go with them. I'll be in touch."
It wasn't the first time Arthur had rushed from a job, adrenaline pumping and everything trying desperately to fall apart. It was the first time in a lot of years that Dominic Cobb wasn't at his side through it all.
Grabbing his case, Arthur dropped to one knee at Dom's side, hearing the flight crew opening the doors and knowing the others were on their way out. His hand lightly covered Dom's.
"I'll be back for you," Arthur whispered, nearly choking on the words. "I promise, I'll come get you." Shaking his head hard, Arthur made his way to the front of the plane and down the passageway to customs. Soon enough the bodies would be found, lost in their own minds and unable to be woken. If he was lucky, Arthur would be on a plane for South America, Eames on his way to Mombasa, and Ariadne would be on her way to Paris. Except Arthur didn't believe in luck, he believed in planning.
Of course he didn't believe in tears either, no matter how much they stung his eyes as he waited his turn at customs, making his way at a near jog to the Air France counter. Ariadne stood to one side of the crowd, separate from it as it moved around her like a stone in a river. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, already moving closer.
"Arthur..." There was so much to that voice, so much given to a simple name. Pleading, hope, a need for him to say it had changed, that in those moments she had been before him that Dom had woken up.
"I will call you. Soon." He said it soft, pulling her in for a quick hug. Mostly so that he could whisper to her without the cameras catching it. "Do what I say and I will be in touch."
Moving back, he laughed. It wasn't a sound of amusement, but loud and mocking. "You actually thought I wanted you? Here? Are you kidding me?"
Arthur wasn't the actor Dom was but he was good enough. Except that deep down it was hard separating himself from the act, especially when it was Ariadne he was treating so horribly.
"Just... go back to your silly school and that damn city. I don't even know why I came there to begin with," he snapped, voice rising to ensure others were watching as he tossed the roll of bills at her. He'd palmed it from his briefcase earlier. A few thousand, enough to get her back to Paris. If all had gone as planned Eames and Yusuf were already on a plane. That only left her.
"Don't you dare call me. As if I'd want you in my life."
Turning away as even Ariadne stood gaping, Arthur didn't look back. She would get on the plane, of that he had ever faith. She would be on her way to Paris before they identified Dominic Cobb as the one on the plane.
All of Arthur's life had been about plans and planning, compartmentalizing and arranging everything until it was perfect. Putting his emotions and heart into a box until he freed Dom from Limbo was no different, locking away the pain he was feeling. Striding out into the sunlight, one bag over his shoulder and the other in his hand, Arthur drew a deep breath and realized his eyes weren't stinging anymore. His chest wasn't quite so tight either. He wasn't the man that had gotten on that plan ten hours earlier, but he would be again.
Some day.