Inception slash story Fischer Jr/Eames. icon belongs to
rahenna "I'm sorry Robert." Eames said, still in Browning's voice. He felt a twinge of remorse at Fischer's slightly unfocused gaze.
Robert continued as if he hadn't heard him. "My father wanted me to be my own man. That's what I'm going to do, Uncle Pe-" he broke of as he turned his head to look at where his Uncle had sat, but now there was only Eames. Robert's bright blue eyes widened slightly as they took in Eames unfamiliar face.
Then he cocked his head to the left.
"You're…I know you. Don't I?" He looked confused, but seemed certain that he did in fact know who he was. "I've seen you before. In a dream." The last part is whispered so softly Eames wasn't sure if Robert had actually said it, never mind how to answer him. Fortunately he didn't have to. Because Robert closed his eyes and leaned his head on Eames' shoulder, and slipped his hand into Eames'.
"Mm tired. Who...who are you?" He said in a sleepy voice. Blue eyes closed, and he sighed deeply, before falling asleep. Eames was shocked to say the least, but the feel of Robert's head on his shoulder felt...oddly comforting. Eames knew Robert couldn't hear him, but he answered anyway.
"I'm Damon Eames, darling." Squeezing his hand he sighed, then closed his eyes to take a moment to regret.
When he opened his eyes again, he was staring out a window into blue sky. Sky that wasn't nearly as blue as Robert Fischer's eyes.
***
*Three Months Earlier*
The first thing Eames noticed about Robert Fischer Jr. was that he wasn't cold, as he'd heard from many people, and he wasn't stiff. At least not intentionally. In fact most of the things people said about Robert were so incredibly wrong that it made Eames question the intelligence of humanity. Robert Fischer wasn't cold, calculating, angry, stiff, hard-hearted, cruel, or even smart-mouthy.
Robert Fischer was, however, shy.
Eames could see how people would mistake shyness for coldness, nervous for standoffish. In other people, it was very common. But Robert wasn't like other people. He was different, so very different, so deliciously confusing. Innocent, in a way. That's exactly why Eames was interested. When he spoke, his body language contrasted with whatever he was saying, no matter what it was. He walked tall, shoulders back, head held high, but there was a sense of…incompleteness, as though he was missing something, but really hoped you couldn't see it.
After the first few days of watching Robert, Eames seriously began to enjoy his job. Watching a cute man, teasing Arthur about Ariadne, hell, teasing Arthur about anything, then going home to a soft bed. Repeat. Most would call it monotonous and boring, and with any other mark, Eames would have agreed. But he quickly learned that Robert Fischer was unlike any other mark. He was…quirky, in the most subtle of ways.
He was a sleepwalker, and a quirky one at that. Most of the time his bedroom doors were locked, but on the rare occasion that they were not, Robert walked his apartment for hours. Other times he just paced in his room, before tiring himself out. Occasionally, however, he did crazy things. For example, turning all the pictures in his apartment backwards and upside down. That had been a particular favorite of Eames'.
Sometimes, when he was watching him at the office, Robert would suddenly look right at Eames, almost as if he could see everything he was hiding. It made Eames...uncomfortable. (But not in a bad way.) It proves that Robert was more observant than they'd given him credit for. Observant, but gullible. It made Eames feel a little (a lot) sorry for him. Because the longer he watched Robert, the more he saw how lonely the young man really was. Young man, Eames thought, and not only because of his age (twenty-nine to Eames' thirty-five), but because he looked at everyone with such uncertainty. (Those big eyes would look at you, and you'd be sucked in.) He seemed unsuprised when peolpe would leave him, as if he expected it to happen. So when it was time for Eames to leave, he was suprisingly reluctant to leave the young man alone. (Not that Robert had known he'd been there, but still. Eames had never not wanted to leave a mark. Just like he'd never liked a mark the way he liked Robert.)
But he boarded the plan to Paris anyway, and tried not to feel guilty. (He failed.)
***
As Eames exited the terminal he gave Cobb a small nod, winked at Ariadne, and "accidentally" ran into Arthur, causing all of the point man's luggage to fall loudly to the floor. With Athur's glare burning holes into his back, he gracefully sauntered over to where Robert Fischer was standing, and ever so gently brushed past him for the second time that day. Robert turned to face him, looking slightly annoyed (also, for the second time today) mouth half open to say something, when Eames' saw the flash of recognition. Grinning, he moved his hand along Robert's arm, slowly, ending the touch with a brush of fingers. Then he was gone.
"Sorry, darling. Awfully clumsy today aren't I?"
"It's not a problem, it was a long flight." Robert gave a small smile. (Small but genuine-and all for Eames.)
"Well, maybe I'll bump into you againg sonetime, hmm?" Robert flushed at the blatent flirting. Turning away, Eames called over his shoulder.
"Be seeing you in your dreams, love."
In the glass doors reflection, he saw Robert smile again, and decided this part of their story was over.
He had six months to wait, and dream, until he could see him again. (And of course, his team members as well. He'd have to catch up with them-eventually.)
Not that he'd be counting or anything.
(Five months and twenty-nine days to go.)