Brick/Inception: Après Moi, le Deluge
Title: Après Moi, le Deluge (20/24)
Author: osaki_nana_707
Fandom: Brick/Inception fusion
Word count: 3,875
Pairing: later Brendan(Arthur)xEames, mentions of BrendanxEmily and BrendanxLaura
Rating: R
Warnings: currently violence, language, mentions of character death
Summary: Brendan should have known better than to tug on loose threads. He should have known that one loose thread was all it took to make everything unravel, but he’d been tired and just wanted things to be done. He should have known well enough that things were never done.
Special thanks to wadebramwilson for betaing! <3
TWENTY
Brendan didn't last long, but Eames didn't either. He waited until Brendan was close and left him whimpering long enough to get his own fly down. Eames jerked himself off in time with his mouth, fingers digging into Brendan's thighs. He came only a few pumps after Brendan did, having watched as Brendan shook and fell apart, sending ropes of it across Brendan's stomach. Brendan's fingers were tangled in the short hairs at Eames's neck, half of his face pressed into the pillow, so he hadn't really seen Eames come so much as he'd felt it, and for some reason that made it a hell of a lot more intense.
There was a moment where Eames just leaned against Brendan's inner thigh, his hot breath ghosting against the flesh there, but then he proceeded to take Brendan's t-shirt and use it to clean them both up before flopping down next to him on the bed with his typical cheeky grin.
"You're real proud of yourself, aren't you?" Brendan tried to say flatly, but it came out more sleepy than agitated. He just couldn't manage agitation right now, still floating on endorphins. He was more relaxed than he had been in a long time. He thought about mentioning that Eames had set out what he'd come here to do one way or another, but for some reason it just didn't feel right.
"Mm, a little," Eames hummed, pressing a kiss to the hinge of Brendan's jaw. It was an oddly affectionate move, one Brendan didn't really know how to respond to, even after all they'd done. It just seemed like the moment had passed and the sweetness was no longer appropriate. He wasn't in the mood to bring it up though, so he just settled against the pillows and watched as Eames found his deck of cigarettes and lighter in his jacket and light one up. Brendan had watched him do this as if the world was moving in slow motion, his large hands reaching over the bed to fumble for his clothes even though it would have been easier to leave the bed. Eames seemed perfectly content to stay where he was though, smoke settling in around him in tendrils just as languid as his smile. "So, how was your first experience with a man? Not too bad, eh?"
Brendan smirked. "I've had better."
Eames could have insulted him, but instead he just blew smoke in Brendan's face, making him cough.
"Don't even pretend like it wasn't good," Eames snorted, lying down next to him. He was close but not too close, and Brendan wasn't sure if that made him feel at ease or not. He watched Eames form an 'O' with his lips and release a couple of smoke rings into the air.
"I don't know if that necessarily qualifies as genuine sex, mind," Brendan said lazily.
"You've got a lot more to learn about sex then, sprog," Eames chuckled, taking another drag off of his cigarette. "Let's just call it a starter pack or whatever. Next time it'll be different."
"What makes you so sure there'll be a next time?"
"Changing your mind about the boys? It's the beard burn on your thighs, isn't it-"
"You know why I said it," Brendan interrupted, and though his voice was soft, it quieted Eames instantly.
They spent a long, silent moment just watching one another. When Eames finally moved, it was just to take one of the empty glasses off of the bedside table to tap his ashes into. "Your fascination with death is a bit morbid," Eames said lightly, setting the glass down on the opposite table that was closer to him so he wouldn't have to reach over Brendan to reach it. Brendan couldn't help but realize it was his own glass Eames was using as an ashtray.
"It's kind of a very real threat right now, isn't it?"
"It always is, especially in our line of work."
"Yeah, but…"
Eames smiled, but the joy behind it was far away. "It'll happen when it happens, love. There's no way to know for sure, so might as well make plans for the future. If we spend all our time worrying, we'll waste the hours we've still got."
Brendan sighed through his nose, rolling onto his side and plucking Eames's cigarette from between his fingers before taking a long drag off of it. Eames just stared in a bit of shock as Brendan handed it back, smoke sliding out through his mouth.
"I thought you didn't smoke."
"I don't. Doesn't mean I haven't."
"Really, now?"
"I used to share them with my first high school girlfriend. I smoked them because she told me to."
"Someone as independent as you taking orders? I would have loved to see that."
"I was a Freshman and Kara was my ticket into the circles. I went into it to use her and ended up getting used. Story of my life."
"She was quite a dish then, mm?"
"Sure she was, but that wasn't what made her so much of a temptress. She was fucking crafty. At least once I got wise to her games I didn't get fooled again. Not by her at least."
"A crafty woman will be the death of you, darling."
"Actually, at this point I'm starting to think everyone's out to get me."
"You do have a certain allure."
"Well, what's your excuse?"
"Hey, you're the one who kissed me back. You tell me. Is it the accent? It's usually the accent. Most people find me charming and handsome too, so it could really be any of those things."
"Well, I find you a little insufferable, so I think I'll go with the fact that I could die soon and you were available to help me get my rocks off."
"You wound me," Eames said, though he didn't sound terribly wounded. It was hard to tell with Eames, however, since his poker face was so sublime. "It seems like that girl you brought back with you, Laura, likes you well enough. Why not her?"
"We have a history," Brendan sighed. "She was in with the Pin when I was working him. It's complicated."
"How complicated are we talking here?"
"Emily's body is on her name as much as it is on mine." It even amazed Brendan how easily he said it now.
"Oh…"
There were a couple of minutes where Eames was silent. Brendan was pretty sure he'd actually managed to genuinely surprise him.
"You're wondering why I let her in."
"A tad."
Brendan rubbed his hands over his face, staring up at the ceiling. "I didn't really have a choice… and I think… I think I came to the realization that she was just trying to get out. Emily was her ticket out, and she took it. Not everyone cared about her as much as I did… To this day it enrages me, but… if I'd been in her position and there was a body there to put the blame on, someone I didn't give a damn about, I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing… It's not a very heroic thing to say, but… that's what I figure. I'll never forgive her, but I'm the one who put Emily in front of the bullet. Laura was just the one who yelled fire."
"I guess we're only as heroic as our opportunity allows."
Brendan swallowed. "Yeah… I guess."
He wasn't sure where the wave of uneasiness had come from, but there was nothing to be done about it… not right now, at least.
"Can I ask you a question?" Brain asked as he stared down at the tabletop. He'd found a map of Nevada including the mostly uninhabited parts of the desert and gone about with Russell and Charlie to mark off locations they could use for the war. It was down to a few different abandoned buildings not too far from Reno off of I-80, and currently Brain was discussing with Brendan the pros and cons of each one. Frankly, Brendan didn't really see any difference in any of them and was under the impression that they should just pick one, but Brain seemed to think that this needed to be handled as delicately as anything else, so Brendan humored him.
"Sure," Brendan said, leaning his chin onto the palm of his hand, a bit bored and ready to go into action. The waiting was getting unbearable.
"It's nothing really," Brain said as casually as he could muster which was admittedly not much. Brendan watched him cautiously, curious as to what he was going to say. Brain wasn't typically the type to get flustered. "Just uh… I couldn't help but notice when I came back to the room this afternoon that it sort of smelled like cigarettes and cologne."
"Eames tends to bring a certain scent with him whenever he comes by."
"Yeah, I know. I mean, trust me, I definitely know that. That's why you never have to tell me when he's been here. It's just. I don't know. Something else."
"What else?"
Brain cleared his throat, eyes thoroughly locked on the map across the table. "Look, I know I'm not the most social of creatures, but I know what sex smells like."
Brendan quirked an eyebrow.
"I do!" Brain complained.
Brendan shrugged a shoulder, looking back down at the map.
"Okay, so… when did all that happen? Since when are you into guys?" Brain asked after he didn't get a confirmation or denial.
"Just passing the time, Brain," Brendan said vaguely, dismissively. "There's no need to start building up crazy theories about what's going on in my head, and I'm sure you don't want to hear the details of my sex life."
"God, no. Just… I guess I just didn't expect it. Ever since Emily, and then Laura I guess-you never really told me what happened there, but I'm pretty sure I got the message… you just didn't seem interested in that kind of stuff. Then there's the fact that you and Eames kind of squared off from the moment you met. It surprises me a little, is all."
"Yeah, well… you were the one who said before we even got involved with all this was that it was time I shifted gears and focused on someone who wasn't Emily."
"That's true, but I'm pretty sure I didn't mean you should set your sights on the first person you came across once we reached Paris." Brain huffed when Brendan rolled his eyes and added, "Look, I'm not saying it's that cut and dry. I know it's not simple. Hell, the very fact that you're involved in it is proof enough that it's not simple. I can't help but show a little concern though, Brendan. When I told you to shift gears, I meant it, but I wasn't saying to switch genders. You can get busy with whoever you want, but I know you've got a tendency to lean towards those who have the potential to destroy you. I don't know if that's some sort of complex or something, but I just want to make sure that's not what this is. I'm just looking out for you."
"I didn't ask you to look out for me, Brain."
"No, you didn't, and as long as I consider you my friend, you'll never have to."
Brendan sort of wanted to argue with that, but he doubted Brain would let him. "Well, you don't have to worry, all right? This… thing… with Eames. It's not really. Well, it's not really anything. I've got my eyes open and more important things to deal with than that."
"I trust you," Brain assured him, "despite all of the shit in the past that should lead to the contrary. You've always walked away from things alive, things you shouldn't have walked away from, so…"
"I'm the only man you've got left to bet on," Brendan said, smirking.
"Kind of… but for what it's worth, I'd still bet on you regardless. Just don't die, got it?"
"I can't make any promises, but I'm certainly going to try not to."
"You'd better," Brain said, "or I'll find a way to bring you back, dig your up, and kill you again myself."
"Knowing you, you'd actually manage it."
Brain just shook his head, laughing a little to himself. "It's weird to see you smile, like actually smile. I don't think I've seen you do that since Em was still around. I was about convinced I'd never see it again."
Brendan couldn't help but feel awkward, as if he'd just been complimented by a stranger. It wasn't really like Brain to notice things like that, at least as far as Brendan knew, but perhaps he hadn't given his friend enough credit. Brain was as observant as they came, but maybe he just wasn't very vocal about it. In a way, Brain had stayed in the background, doubling up as Brendan's guardian and conscience when necessary, quick to dryly remark when Brendan let his emotions cloud his judgment. He'd never told Brendan what to do, but he'd been there to pick up the pieces when it inevitably went bad. For such a long time, Brendan had been so sure he was alone in all of this, that everyone he put faith and trust in would ultimately leave him hung out to dry, but that wasn't true, not really.
Brain had always been there, and if Brendan had any say in it, he always would be.
So, no, Brendan hadn't given Brain enough credit, not nearly enough, but he hoped to make up for it. Now that he was in on the dreamshare community, he wasn't entirely sure he could get out of it. With each day passing, he was getting more and more tangled in their wires, so he knew he'd have to make the best of it, and one thing was for damn sure. Brain would be getting a huge cut of his paychecks for quite a while. It wasn't nearly enough, but it was all Brendan could offer. He was sure Brain would sleep easily at night (when he did sleep), knowing that Brendan was still depositing that money into his account because that meant that Brendan was still alive.
That was Brendan's plan, and if this John Wells thing worked out, he had full intention of sticking to it. There was no backing out on it this time…
Of course, there was still the very real possibility that this job wouldn't work out, so he had to have a plan B.
"Brain," he said, reaching over and squeezing his shoulder, making him look at him. "Look, I swear I will try and make it through all this. I'm not going to go in there with a death wish, I promise you that. I owe you more than to get my skull blown off over something I can't change, all right? Still, these guys are pretty damn bad. They're bigger fish than we've ever faced down."
"I know that," Brain said softly, brow furrowing a little. "It wouldn't be you if it wasn't stupid and reckless."
"All I'm saying is that if something happens in there, I want you to get out of it all, okay? Wipe your history, hop on the first plane out of town, and get somewhere safe where you can live a normal life. Don't get mixed up in all of this, not like me. Promise me that if all of this goes south you'll do that. Promise me."
"There'd be no fun in it without you," Brain replied.
"I just… I know what vengeance can do to a person. It destroys you, and you don't get anything out of it. At the end of the day Em is still dead. Justice for her death… it didn't taste any different than the misery. The only thing to do is to let it go and try to be the kind of person they would have wanted you to be. I'm not strong enough to do that, not really… I'll always be this. I'm in too deep… but you're not. You've got a lot more greatness in you than I do, Brain, so don't run it through the mud. Promise me. Say you promise."
"I promise, Brendan."
"Good," Brendan sat back, looking back down at the tabletop. He decided, circling the old warehouse where they'd lay their trap with a black marker.
"Just one thing though," Brain added as an afterthought. Brendan looked up at him, about to protest, but Brain interrupted. "You've got a whole hell of a lot of greatness in you, Brendan. Maybe if you saw it, you'd see that you're a lot stronger than you think. Em's still dead at the end of the day, yeah, but you're not, and you have to remember that she saw something in you once. I know that, even if you're over her, you hold her memory to your highest standard, so keep in mind that she chose you back then. She saw it, I see it, and hell, maybe even Eames sees it too. Don't beat yourself up."
Brendan snorted. "You're a good friend, Brain."
"I'm the best friend you've ever had," Brain replied, grinning.
Brendan could do nothing but nod, smiling a little solemnly. It would take a little more than a pep talk to convince him he was worthy of Brain's friendship, but he wasn't selfless enough to abandon it now.
For as slowly as things had been moving, suddenly it all seemed to be going too fast. Things were moving into motion, people were arriving to fight, and it worried Brendan that things were spinning too quickly to keep control over it. Brain had assured him that everything would work out, but he hadn't been able to look Brendan in the eyes when he said it, so he knew that there were doubts all around. Even Eames seemed to have lost a bit of his casual indifference, though Brendan didn't know if anyone else could see it. It was astounding how much easier it was to read a person after sleeping with them.
Brendan couldn't sleep, so he got up, checking Brain's bed before going to the door. Brain had passed out sitting up in front of his computer, and Brendan had no intention of disturbing him. He left a note, saying he'd be back soon, and slipped out into the hall. He was impatient, but he thought that maybe he could get a little air and feel a little less nervous.
Something just didn't feel right. He was too conscious of his heartbeat, too fidgety. This was supposed to be the calm before the storm, but something just kept nagging at him, something he knew he should remember but couldn't quite recall. It made him feel nauseous.
He turned a corner, sighing, and then found himself stopping short. He took in a breath, let it out slowly. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but something just…
It just wasn't right.
He slowed his pace, moving down the hall at a snail's pace, hand sliding to where he kept his gun concealed in the waistband of his jeans. He stayed close to the wall, blinking as little as possible as he took in the hallway, trying to find out what had caused his paranoia to spike. He tried to tell himself that the fact that it was quiet wasn't odd considering the time of night it was. If people in the hotel weren't asleep, they sure as hell wouldn't be bumming about in their rooms after all, not with all Vegas had to offer them… but he couldn't shake it.
This wasn't a quiet brought about by absence. He knew this silence. Something in the air had shifted, become tense, and the feeling still lingered even though the ones involved were gone.
It was the same silence he'd heard when he'd shot that man in the alley, the same silence he'd heard when he found Emily's body lying face down at the mouth of that tunnel.
He turned another corner, and then he could see the elevator, its doors being held open by something blocking the entrance. It looked like…
"No," Brendan breathed, running the rest of the way down the hall, pulling out his gun, prepared to fire if he needed to. When he reached the elevator, he felt like he'd been punched in the gut.
For several seconds, time seemed to stand still as he stared into the open elevator, at the body lying face down on the floor, the blood spattered against the back wall. He didn't understand how he couldn't have heard it. He had been awake. He was just around a couple of corners. She had to have struggled, had to have screamed, right? How could he have missed it? The blood dribbling down the wall hadn't even reached the floor yet, so she hadn't have been there long. She had to have been coerced somehow, maybe, or…
Brendan knelt down next to the body, rolled it over, pushed the short blonde hairs back off of her forehead.
Laura was like ice, but he checked for a pulse anyway. He couldn't find one.
"Shit," he hissed, standing up and looking up and down the hall, readying his gun to fire. Whoever had done this was still here, and he had a feeling they'd be taking down the rest of the team anytime now… That is, if they hadn't already.
Part of him wanted to stay with Laura's body, but it wouldn't serve any purpose now. He needed to warn everyone that they'd been made, possibly find out the traitor in their midst, and he needed to do it fast. His breath was shaking, even as he looked down at his hands, finding Laura's blood stained there from when he'd rolled her over, and he knew he couldn't have been standing here for more than a few seconds, but it felt like hours.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
His heartbeat thumping in his ears, he bolted back down the hall towards their rooms. He wasn't sure he believed in God, but in that moment he was praying for him to be on his side just this once. He couldn't necessarily say he was surprised when he rounded the corner and found doors wide open.
He didn't waste time, shoving his way into Mal and Laura's room first, only to discover it empty. He turned around to look around, see if maybe Mal was hiding somewhere, only to find him nearly running into a body that had sneaked up behind him. Brendan shouted, aiming his gun, and he very nearly fired it before he heard a familiar voice saying, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, don't shoot, don't-it's me!"
"Eames?" Brendan said shakily. Even in the darkness of the room, he could tell something wasn't right.
There was blood spatter across his shirt, for one.
Brendan set his jaw, lowered his gun only a fraction so that it pointed at his chest, and said, "You've got ten seconds to explain, so you'd better start now."
also available on AO3
Author: osaki_nana_707
Fandom: Brick/Inception fusion
Word count: 3,875
Pairing: later Brendan(Arthur)xEames, mentions of BrendanxEmily and BrendanxLaura
Rating: R
Warnings: currently violence, language, mentions of character death
Summary: Brendan should have known better than to tug on loose threads. He should have known that one loose thread was all it took to make everything unravel, but he’d been tired and just wanted things to be done. He should have known well enough that things were never done.
Special thanks to wadebramwilson for betaing! <3
TWENTY
Brendan didn't last long, but Eames didn't either. He waited until Brendan was close and left him whimpering long enough to get his own fly down. Eames jerked himself off in time with his mouth, fingers digging into Brendan's thighs. He came only a few pumps after Brendan did, having watched as Brendan shook and fell apart, sending ropes of it across Brendan's stomach. Brendan's fingers were tangled in the short hairs at Eames's neck, half of his face pressed into the pillow, so he hadn't really seen Eames come so much as he'd felt it, and for some reason that made it a hell of a lot more intense.
There was a moment where Eames just leaned against Brendan's inner thigh, his hot breath ghosting against the flesh there, but then he proceeded to take Brendan's t-shirt and use it to clean them both up before flopping down next to him on the bed with his typical cheeky grin.
"You're real proud of yourself, aren't you?" Brendan tried to say flatly, but it came out more sleepy than agitated. He just couldn't manage agitation right now, still floating on endorphins. He was more relaxed than he had been in a long time. He thought about mentioning that Eames had set out what he'd come here to do one way or another, but for some reason it just didn't feel right.
"Mm, a little," Eames hummed, pressing a kiss to the hinge of Brendan's jaw. It was an oddly affectionate move, one Brendan didn't really know how to respond to, even after all they'd done. It just seemed like the moment had passed and the sweetness was no longer appropriate. He wasn't in the mood to bring it up though, so he just settled against the pillows and watched as Eames found his deck of cigarettes and lighter in his jacket and light one up. Brendan had watched him do this as if the world was moving in slow motion, his large hands reaching over the bed to fumble for his clothes even though it would have been easier to leave the bed. Eames seemed perfectly content to stay where he was though, smoke settling in around him in tendrils just as languid as his smile. "So, how was your first experience with a man? Not too bad, eh?"
Brendan smirked. "I've had better."
Eames could have insulted him, but instead he just blew smoke in Brendan's face, making him cough.
"Don't even pretend like it wasn't good," Eames snorted, lying down next to him. He was close but not too close, and Brendan wasn't sure if that made him feel at ease or not. He watched Eames form an 'O' with his lips and release a couple of smoke rings into the air.
"I don't know if that necessarily qualifies as genuine sex, mind," Brendan said lazily.
"You've got a lot more to learn about sex then, sprog," Eames chuckled, taking another drag off of his cigarette. "Let's just call it a starter pack or whatever. Next time it'll be different."
"What makes you so sure there'll be a next time?"
"Changing your mind about the boys? It's the beard burn on your thighs, isn't it-"
"You know why I said it," Brendan interrupted, and though his voice was soft, it quieted Eames instantly.
They spent a long, silent moment just watching one another. When Eames finally moved, it was just to take one of the empty glasses off of the bedside table to tap his ashes into. "Your fascination with death is a bit morbid," Eames said lightly, setting the glass down on the opposite table that was closer to him so he wouldn't have to reach over Brendan to reach it. Brendan couldn't help but realize it was his own glass Eames was using as an ashtray.
"It's kind of a very real threat right now, isn't it?"
"It always is, especially in our line of work."
"Yeah, but…"
Eames smiled, but the joy behind it was far away. "It'll happen when it happens, love. There's no way to know for sure, so might as well make plans for the future. If we spend all our time worrying, we'll waste the hours we've still got."
Brendan sighed through his nose, rolling onto his side and plucking Eames's cigarette from between his fingers before taking a long drag off of it. Eames just stared in a bit of shock as Brendan handed it back, smoke sliding out through his mouth.
"I thought you didn't smoke."
"I don't. Doesn't mean I haven't."
"Really, now?"
"I used to share them with my first high school girlfriend. I smoked them because she told me to."
"Someone as independent as you taking orders? I would have loved to see that."
"I was a Freshman and Kara was my ticket into the circles. I went into it to use her and ended up getting used. Story of my life."
"She was quite a dish then, mm?"
"Sure she was, but that wasn't what made her so much of a temptress. She was fucking crafty. At least once I got wise to her games I didn't get fooled again. Not by her at least."
"A crafty woman will be the death of you, darling."
"Actually, at this point I'm starting to think everyone's out to get me."
"You do have a certain allure."
"Well, what's your excuse?"
"Hey, you're the one who kissed me back. You tell me. Is it the accent? It's usually the accent. Most people find me charming and handsome too, so it could really be any of those things."
"Well, I find you a little insufferable, so I think I'll go with the fact that I could die soon and you were available to help me get my rocks off."
"You wound me," Eames said, though he didn't sound terribly wounded. It was hard to tell with Eames, however, since his poker face was so sublime. "It seems like that girl you brought back with you, Laura, likes you well enough. Why not her?"
"We have a history," Brendan sighed. "She was in with the Pin when I was working him. It's complicated."
"How complicated are we talking here?"
"Emily's body is on her name as much as it is on mine." It even amazed Brendan how easily he said it now.
"Oh…"
There were a couple of minutes where Eames was silent. Brendan was pretty sure he'd actually managed to genuinely surprise him.
"You're wondering why I let her in."
"A tad."
Brendan rubbed his hands over his face, staring up at the ceiling. "I didn't really have a choice… and I think… I think I came to the realization that she was just trying to get out. Emily was her ticket out, and she took it. Not everyone cared about her as much as I did… To this day it enrages me, but… if I'd been in her position and there was a body there to put the blame on, someone I didn't give a damn about, I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing… It's not a very heroic thing to say, but… that's what I figure. I'll never forgive her, but I'm the one who put Emily in front of the bullet. Laura was just the one who yelled fire."
"I guess we're only as heroic as our opportunity allows."
Brendan swallowed. "Yeah… I guess."
He wasn't sure where the wave of uneasiness had come from, but there was nothing to be done about it… not right now, at least.
"Can I ask you a question?" Brain asked as he stared down at the tabletop. He'd found a map of Nevada including the mostly uninhabited parts of the desert and gone about with Russell and Charlie to mark off locations they could use for the war. It was down to a few different abandoned buildings not too far from Reno off of I-80, and currently Brain was discussing with Brendan the pros and cons of each one. Frankly, Brendan didn't really see any difference in any of them and was under the impression that they should just pick one, but Brain seemed to think that this needed to be handled as delicately as anything else, so Brendan humored him.
"Sure," Brendan said, leaning his chin onto the palm of his hand, a bit bored and ready to go into action. The waiting was getting unbearable.
"It's nothing really," Brain said as casually as he could muster which was admittedly not much. Brendan watched him cautiously, curious as to what he was going to say. Brain wasn't typically the type to get flustered. "Just uh… I couldn't help but notice when I came back to the room this afternoon that it sort of smelled like cigarettes and cologne."
"Eames tends to bring a certain scent with him whenever he comes by."
"Yeah, I know. I mean, trust me, I definitely know that. That's why you never have to tell me when he's been here. It's just. I don't know. Something else."
"What else?"
Brain cleared his throat, eyes thoroughly locked on the map across the table. "Look, I know I'm not the most social of creatures, but I know what sex smells like."
Brendan quirked an eyebrow.
"I do!" Brain complained.
Brendan shrugged a shoulder, looking back down at the map.
"Okay, so… when did all that happen? Since when are you into guys?" Brain asked after he didn't get a confirmation or denial.
"Just passing the time, Brain," Brendan said vaguely, dismissively. "There's no need to start building up crazy theories about what's going on in my head, and I'm sure you don't want to hear the details of my sex life."
"God, no. Just… I guess I just didn't expect it. Ever since Emily, and then Laura I guess-you never really told me what happened there, but I'm pretty sure I got the message… you just didn't seem interested in that kind of stuff. Then there's the fact that you and Eames kind of squared off from the moment you met. It surprises me a little, is all."
"Yeah, well… you were the one who said before we even got involved with all this was that it was time I shifted gears and focused on someone who wasn't Emily."
"That's true, but I'm pretty sure I didn't mean you should set your sights on the first person you came across once we reached Paris." Brain huffed when Brendan rolled his eyes and added, "Look, I'm not saying it's that cut and dry. I know it's not simple. Hell, the very fact that you're involved in it is proof enough that it's not simple. I can't help but show a little concern though, Brendan. When I told you to shift gears, I meant it, but I wasn't saying to switch genders. You can get busy with whoever you want, but I know you've got a tendency to lean towards those who have the potential to destroy you. I don't know if that's some sort of complex or something, but I just want to make sure that's not what this is. I'm just looking out for you."
"I didn't ask you to look out for me, Brain."
"No, you didn't, and as long as I consider you my friend, you'll never have to."
Brendan sort of wanted to argue with that, but he doubted Brain would let him. "Well, you don't have to worry, all right? This… thing… with Eames. It's not really. Well, it's not really anything. I've got my eyes open and more important things to deal with than that."
"I trust you," Brain assured him, "despite all of the shit in the past that should lead to the contrary. You've always walked away from things alive, things you shouldn't have walked away from, so…"
"I'm the only man you've got left to bet on," Brendan said, smirking.
"Kind of… but for what it's worth, I'd still bet on you regardless. Just don't die, got it?"
"I can't make any promises, but I'm certainly going to try not to."
"You'd better," Brain said, "or I'll find a way to bring you back, dig your up, and kill you again myself."
"Knowing you, you'd actually manage it."
Brain just shook his head, laughing a little to himself. "It's weird to see you smile, like actually smile. I don't think I've seen you do that since Em was still around. I was about convinced I'd never see it again."
Brendan couldn't help but feel awkward, as if he'd just been complimented by a stranger. It wasn't really like Brain to notice things like that, at least as far as Brendan knew, but perhaps he hadn't given his friend enough credit. Brain was as observant as they came, but maybe he just wasn't very vocal about it. In a way, Brain had stayed in the background, doubling up as Brendan's guardian and conscience when necessary, quick to dryly remark when Brendan let his emotions cloud his judgment. He'd never told Brendan what to do, but he'd been there to pick up the pieces when it inevitably went bad. For such a long time, Brendan had been so sure he was alone in all of this, that everyone he put faith and trust in would ultimately leave him hung out to dry, but that wasn't true, not really.
Brain had always been there, and if Brendan had any say in it, he always would be.
So, no, Brendan hadn't given Brain enough credit, not nearly enough, but he hoped to make up for it. Now that he was in on the dreamshare community, he wasn't entirely sure he could get out of it. With each day passing, he was getting more and more tangled in their wires, so he knew he'd have to make the best of it, and one thing was for damn sure. Brain would be getting a huge cut of his paychecks for quite a while. It wasn't nearly enough, but it was all Brendan could offer. He was sure Brain would sleep easily at night (when he did sleep), knowing that Brendan was still depositing that money into his account because that meant that Brendan was still alive.
That was Brendan's plan, and if this John Wells thing worked out, he had full intention of sticking to it. There was no backing out on it this time…
Of course, there was still the very real possibility that this job wouldn't work out, so he had to have a plan B.
"Brain," he said, reaching over and squeezing his shoulder, making him look at him. "Look, I swear I will try and make it through all this. I'm not going to go in there with a death wish, I promise you that. I owe you more than to get my skull blown off over something I can't change, all right? Still, these guys are pretty damn bad. They're bigger fish than we've ever faced down."
"I know that," Brain said softly, brow furrowing a little. "It wouldn't be you if it wasn't stupid and reckless."
"All I'm saying is that if something happens in there, I want you to get out of it all, okay? Wipe your history, hop on the first plane out of town, and get somewhere safe where you can live a normal life. Don't get mixed up in all of this, not like me. Promise me that if all of this goes south you'll do that. Promise me."
"There'd be no fun in it without you," Brain replied.
"I just… I know what vengeance can do to a person. It destroys you, and you don't get anything out of it. At the end of the day Em is still dead. Justice for her death… it didn't taste any different than the misery. The only thing to do is to let it go and try to be the kind of person they would have wanted you to be. I'm not strong enough to do that, not really… I'll always be this. I'm in too deep… but you're not. You've got a lot more greatness in you than I do, Brain, so don't run it through the mud. Promise me. Say you promise."
"I promise, Brendan."
"Good," Brendan sat back, looking back down at the tabletop. He decided, circling the old warehouse where they'd lay their trap with a black marker.
"Just one thing though," Brain added as an afterthought. Brendan looked up at him, about to protest, but Brain interrupted. "You've got a whole hell of a lot of greatness in you, Brendan. Maybe if you saw it, you'd see that you're a lot stronger than you think. Em's still dead at the end of the day, yeah, but you're not, and you have to remember that she saw something in you once. I know that, even if you're over her, you hold her memory to your highest standard, so keep in mind that she chose you back then. She saw it, I see it, and hell, maybe even Eames sees it too. Don't beat yourself up."
Brendan snorted. "You're a good friend, Brain."
"I'm the best friend you've ever had," Brain replied, grinning.
Brendan could do nothing but nod, smiling a little solemnly. It would take a little more than a pep talk to convince him he was worthy of Brain's friendship, but he wasn't selfless enough to abandon it now.
For as slowly as things had been moving, suddenly it all seemed to be going too fast. Things were moving into motion, people were arriving to fight, and it worried Brendan that things were spinning too quickly to keep control over it. Brain had assured him that everything would work out, but he hadn't been able to look Brendan in the eyes when he said it, so he knew that there were doubts all around. Even Eames seemed to have lost a bit of his casual indifference, though Brendan didn't know if anyone else could see it. It was astounding how much easier it was to read a person after sleeping with them.
Brendan couldn't sleep, so he got up, checking Brain's bed before going to the door. Brain had passed out sitting up in front of his computer, and Brendan had no intention of disturbing him. He left a note, saying he'd be back soon, and slipped out into the hall. He was impatient, but he thought that maybe he could get a little air and feel a little less nervous.
Something just didn't feel right. He was too conscious of his heartbeat, too fidgety. This was supposed to be the calm before the storm, but something just kept nagging at him, something he knew he should remember but couldn't quite recall. It made him feel nauseous.
He turned a corner, sighing, and then found himself stopping short. He took in a breath, let it out slowly. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but something just…
It just wasn't right.
He slowed his pace, moving down the hall at a snail's pace, hand sliding to where he kept his gun concealed in the waistband of his jeans. He stayed close to the wall, blinking as little as possible as he took in the hallway, trying to find out what had caused his paranoia to spike. He tried to tell himself that the fact that it was quiet wasn't odd considering the time of night it was. If people in the hotel weren't asleep, they sure as hell wouldn't be bumming about in their rooms after all, not with all Vegas had to offer them… but he couldn't shake it.
This wasn't a quiet brought about by absence. He knew this silence. Something in the air had shifted, become tense, and the feeling still lingered even though the ones involved were gone.
It was the same silence he'd heard when he'd shot that man in the alley, the same silence he'd heard when he found Emily's body lying face down at the mouth of that tunnel.
He turned another corner, and then he could see the elevator, its doors being held open by something blocking the entrance. It looked like…
"No," Brendan breathed, running the rest of the way down the hall, pulling out his gun, prepared to fire if he needed to. When he reached the elevator, he felt like he'd been punched in the gut.
For several seconds, time seemed to stand still as he stared into the open elevator, at the body lying face down on the floor, the blood spattered against the back wall. He didn't understand how he couldn't have heard it. He had been awake. He was just around a couple of corners. She had to have struggled, had to have screamed, right? How could he have missed it? The blood dribbling down the wall hadn't even reached the floor yet, so she hadn't have been there long. She had to have been coerced somehow, maybe, or…
Brendan knelt down next to the body, rolled it over, pushed the short blonde hairs back off of her forehead.
Laura was like ice, but he checked for a pulse anyway. He couldn't find one.
"Shit," he hissed, standing up and looking up and down the hall, readying his gun to fire. Whoever had done this was still here, and he had a feeling they'd be taking down the rest of the team anytime now… That is, if they hadn't already.
Part of him wanted to stay with Laura's body, but it wouldn't serve any purpose now. He needed to warn everyone that they'd been made, possibly find out the traitor in their midst, and he needed to do it fast. His breath was shaking, even as he looked down at his hands, finding Laura's blood stained there from when he'd rolled her over, and he knew he couldn't have been standing here for more than a few seconds, but it felt like hours.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
His heartbeat thumping in his ears, he bolted back down the hall towards their rooms. He wasn't sure he believed in God, but in that moment he was praying for him to be on his side just this once. He couldn't necessarily say he was surprised when he rounded the corner and found doors wide open.
He didn't waste time, shoving his way into Mal and Laura's room first, only to discover it empty. He turned around to look around, see if maybe Mal was hiding somewhere, only to find him nearly running into a body that had sneaked up behind him. Brendan shouted, aiming his gun, and he very nearly fired it before he heard a familiar voice saying, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, don't shoot, don't-it's me!"
"Eames?" Brendan said shakily. Even in the darkness of the room, he could tell something wasn't right.
There was blood spatter across his shirt, for one.
Brendan set his jaw, lowered his gun only a fraction so that it pointed at his chest, and said, "You've got ten seconds to explain, so you'd better start now."
also available on AO3