Lights will guide you home (and I will try to fix you) 2/2
Written for i_reversebang.
Title: Lights will guide you home (and I will try to fix you)
Artist: aya_no_hako
Rating: PG
Summary: Post-movie fic. Inception doesn’t go according to plan. Robert falls apart, and Saito has to catch him.
Word Count: 9,744
IX. On my feet and staggering, through misplaced words and a sinking feeling
Jun allows himself a moment of grim satisfaction as he gazes after Robert’s retreating form. It had ended as he’d known it always would - in ignominious failure, in the slamming of doors and the betrayed look on a young man’s face, as the reality of his world cracked and crumbled. Inception had been foolish from the very start, but - he supposed, making his way up to Saito’s office - love made fools of man and beast alike, and Saito was no exception, invincible as he’d once believed he’d been.
“I’m sorry, sir. It was my fault he found out.” Jun bows, eyes fixed on the carpet. Mentally, he’s bracing for the worst. Saito’s usually not the sort to lose his temper, but this is different. Jun certainly wouldn’t want to be in his position, not after all that’s happened.
“Did I do the wrong thing?” Saito asks, and it’s pensive, rather than angry.
Jun risks a glance at him. It’s impossible to read Saito’s expression. The man’s turned away from him, gazing down at the streets below, but the tension is clear in his frame.
He straightens, “You know I was against it from the start.”
“It needed to be done. That’s what I tell myself, every time he lapses, and it’s... The nightmares he has, Jun, I can’t - can’t bear the thought that I was responsible for it. For everything he’s going through.” Saito clenches his fists, a gesture that is all too alien on him.
“It wasn’t - isn’t justifiable. You may have done it in his best interests, but - you did betray him, sir.” If Saito is looking for absolution, he won’t find it in Jun’s words. Jun is not the person he must seek forgiveness from.
Shit. Had he actually said that to Saito? Oh fuck. Brilliant. The day is just getting better and better.
Jun bites his lip. If he’s lucky, getting sacked is going to be the least of the repercussions.
“I know.” Saito paces restlessly, like a caged panther. “And there’s nothing I can do to make it right.”
His response isn’t typical, but it’s not every day inception comes back to bite them in the arse.
Not trusting to speak any further, Jun watches silently. He’s never seen Saito like this - all simmering anger and frustration and grief. He’s seen this same look countless times on the faces of other CEOs just before Proclus wipes their companies out - it’s the impotent fury of a helpless man, desperate and overwhelmingly lost, not knowing what to do, or how to react. He’s never thought that he would see Saito, of all people, in this exact state. It’s an odd feeling, watching his mentor grasp at straws like a drowning man.
It’s pride, he realises, suddenly. Pride, that keeps Saito from admitting that he was wrong, pride that keeps him from being truly sorry.
Jun sucks in a breath, unsure of how to proceed. He’s gone too far already, on every count, and what he should be doing is walk away. This goes far beyond what his job scope entails, and it’s not business. It’s Saito’s problem, and if he really values his job, he’ll shut up and get back to some actual work. He knows for a fact that the numbers from Norway have already come in, and the pile in his in-tray is growing with every hour he’s away from his desk. On top of that, there’s the ... issue with Noguchi that’s still to be dealt with. No paperwork, thankfully, but there’s likely to be quite a bit of blood and body disposal to do at the end of it.
Oh, what the hell. He’s already started it. He might as well end it. On the bright side, it’s not like there’ll be any more market reports to wear his eyeballs out with after this.
“You’re wrong. There is. You’re just too damn stubborn to do it.” There. He’s said it - his death sentence, in three phrases.
Saito’s expression is thunderous. Jun keeps talking, against his better judgment, “You know you’re wrong. It’s never been anyone’s place to dictate anyone’s future. Maurice Fischer was wrong, but that doesn’t mean you could just swan in and take over from there. It’s not like running a company. Robert needed you, yes, but you gave him the wrong kind of help. What he actually required was a guide, a confidante, a friend, someone to support him and be there for him. You got it at first, but then you fucked up. And now you’re pretending it isn’t your fault. It’s okay to make mistakes. We all do. You just have to admit it, and see Robert’s side of the argument. You owe it to him.”
Saito pinches the bridge of his nose with a finger and thumb, breathing deeply. His eyes are closed, but his voice is hard, “Takenaga Jun. Get out of my office and don’t come back.”
Yeah. Definitely screwed.
“Yes sir.” Jun legs it.
Wonderful, a voice in the back of his head snipes, Five years of hard work gone down the drain, and all because of one stupid rich kid. Why can’t you have learnt to mind your own damn business?
Jun ignores it. He’ll live. Hopefully.
X. I regret not knowing when to put an end to all this madness
You know you’re wrong. It’s never been anyone’s place to dictate anyone’s future.
Long after he’s left, Jun’s words continue to mock Saito. He takes another draught of whiskey, but all it does is burn his throat and leave him smarting. No comfort in drink tonight, it seems. He shoves the tumbler away and sits up, running his hands through his hair distractedly.
You owe it to him.
Saito knows he does. Admitting it is harder. It’d been so much easier to convince himself that what he doing was right, that the end justified the means. End of the day, the profit margin mattered, not what Proclus did to achieve it.
It’s not like running a company.
Run a family like you try to run a business, and it becomes like Saito’s family. Or Robert’s family. Family in all but kinship, lacking warmth and love, lacking, well, everything that makes a house a home, a place to return to, day after day. It had become a place to get out of as fast as possible, and Saito had made sure of that. He’d bucked the trend - his father was a poor man, a shoe maker by trade - and struck out on his own, left his own mark on the world, and was still shaping it, even now. And then... he’d done the thing he’d sworn never to do - make someone he loved suffer, just as his father had done.
It’s okay to make mistakes. We all do.
No, it wasn’t.
Robert’s voice this time, raw and hurt: But what the fuck, Saito, I fucking trusted you. You didn’t have to do it.
Robert had trusted him, opened up to him. And this - this was how he’d repaid him.
He’s such a fool. The only good thing Saito had ever had, and he’d single-handedly messed it up. Jun had been right all along. How had he been so blind, so stupid?
He needs Robert in his life. Needs to apologise, needs to see him smile again, needs everything that Robert will give him.
“Jun - “he starts, then realises that his aide isn’t his employee, not anymore.
The word dies on his lips. Feeling oddly hollow, Saito grabs his phone and leaves.. He’ll set this right. He will (has to).
XI. Here I stand pouring my heart onto your floor
“Go away.” Robert mutters at his phone. Obviously, the ringing doesn’t stop, Saito’s caller ID blinking on and off insistently.
He’s angry, and miserable, and really he isn’t in a mood to talk.
His phone beeps as a new text message comes in.
SENDER: SAITO [20:15]
Please. We need to talk.
Robert deletes it and flings his phone elsewhere. It hits the floor with a clatter; he’s pretty sure the battery cover just came off. Oh well. He’ll regret it tomorrow, but right now, he doesn’t care.
He’s been an idiot to believe that Saito would see him any differently from his father. Saito had seemed to understand when no one else did, but then he’d sought to change Robert as he deemed fit. He chokes back a sob. Would he ever be good enough for anyone?
There’s a knock at the door. Robert hesitates. Part of him hopes (stupid, oh so stupid) that it’s Saito. Worthless sentiment, he reminds himself, and remains where he is on the sofa. The lights aren’t on; hopefully whoever it is will assume there’s no one home and leave.
His phone starts ringing again. Dammit. Can’t Saito take a fucking hint and leave him alone?
Another knock, louder than the first, “Robert!”
So it is him. He stays obstinately silent. Maybe if he doesn’t answer, Saito will go away.
“If you don’t answer the door, I’m not leaving.” Saito warns.
Fuck off, he wants to shout, d’you even know how fucked up you’ve made my life, but he doesn’t. Saito’s quiet, but Robert knows he’s still there - the man means what he says, and not moving means he’ll stay outside Robert’s door until Robert opens it. For a moment he toys with the idea of making Saito wait outside indefinitely, but it’s not feasible - Browning is coming over to visit tomorrow, and he doesn’t want to have to deal with them both at once.
He fumbles for his phone under the sofa, types “Nothing to talk about. Go away.” and hits send.
SENDER: SAITO [20:22]
Just 5 minutes, and then I’ll go. I mean it. Please, Robert.
Robert blinks at the message. This - it’s as close to pleading as he’s ever seen Saito, and it ... isn’t as satisfying as he’d imagined it’d be. Seeing Saito hurt makes the ache in his chest intensify, too. And it isn’t fair.
SENDER: ROBERT [20:24]
Just 5 minutes. Then you leave and I don’t want to ever see you again.
It’s a bad move - he knows it, but he still does it, opens the door and lets Saito in, “Talk. 5 minutes start now.”
“I’m sorry.” Saito rasps. He looks terrible; his hair’s dishevelled, and his shirt’s plastered to his back that suggests he’s done a fair bit of running to get here.
“Too late.” Robert retorts, “If that’s all - “
You just have to admit it, and see Robert’s side of the argument.
Saito makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, “No, no, you don’t - I mean, what I wanted to say was - “
Why was it so hard to just say it?
He takes a deep breath, acutely aware that his five minutes are ticking down dangerously fast, “No. I’m sorry, Robert. I’m an idiot. I thought - I could solve it for you. I never considered your feelings, if you’d even wanted my help in the first place. I didn’t even stop to think about the consequences, either. This... I own it. It’s my fault.”
It’s hard to speak through the lump in his throat, but Saito continues, “Even when you... the nightmares, oh God, the flashbacks, I thought... I refused to even consider the possibility that I might have been wrong. I wanted... I was so sure it was the right thing to do. Now I hate myself for being so damn selfish.”
“I would give anything to undo it, Robert. Everything. I just want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Saito pauses. There’s moisture tracking down his face, and his surroundings have gone blurry. Was he crying? Saito can’t remember the last time he’s cried. It seems... no, it was a long time ago, when he was eight. He’d lied to his father about something insignificant, and the man had struck him so hard he’d fallen to the floor. He’s almost forgotten what it was like to sob, to drop the mask and let go of his emotions.
“Changing you... or trying to change you through inception, that was wrong. I was wrong. I don’t want to change you, Robert. I like you just as you are. And... I know that you don’t want to see me after this, so I’ll just... go. But I wanted you to know that.”
Something white is shoved into his face. Saito stares.
“Tissue.” Robert sighs, “You know, I really want to throw you out, but you’re making it so damn difficult.”
Saito must have a hopeful look on his face, because Robert shook his head, “No. That doesn’t mean you’re forgiven yet, either. I just... need to take a break. To think about this, and us. Where we stand. Whether I can even trust you even, for that matter.”
His words cut, even though Saito knows Robert doesn’t mean them to - he’s just stating the facts as they are.
“Will you... be all right?” Saito ventures cautiously.
“I don’t know.” Robert looks away, refusing to meet his gaze. Saito immediately regrets asking that question. You’re a bloody fool. Why’d you have to remind him of what happened? He certainly doesn’t need that from you .
“If there’s anything I can do...” Saito tries again. He’s way out of his depth; he feels like he’s wandered blindfolded onto a minefield, and that if he’s not careful, the whole thing could blow up at any moment.
Robert rubs his eyes tiredly, “Thanks, but it’s been a long day, Saito and I really need to sleep.” He’s lying, of course - it’s unlikely that he’ll get any sleep tonight, or the nights after this, but Saito doesn’t need to know that. He just wants to be alone.
“I... okay.” Saito sags, “I’ll... just be going now, then.” They’ve both run out of words, of so-called ‘safe’ things to say to each other, and now neither of them know quite what to do next.
He pauses at the door, looking back at Robert, “I love you.”
“I know,” Robert replies wearily. That’s the problem, really.
He watches the door swing shut behind Saito, and wonders if they’re ever going to be okay.
XII. Forever’s never seemed so long when you’re not around; it’s like a piece of me is missing
The next few months are hell for Robert. The nightmares aren’t any less real, even though he knows it’s all just a dream, smoke and mirrors and illusions to trick his mind, and he fights through two lapses until he gives in, and goes to see a psychiatrist.
Browning, predictably, is worried when he finds out. Robert spares him the details, and lets him believe he’s sorting out the emotional toil of his relationship with his father. Well, there’s that, too, but that comes later.
Apparently, the nightmares are a good sign. His mind is trying to process what’s happened, which means he’s slowly getting over it. I don’t know how long it’s going to take, though. You’ll have to be patient, his psychiatrist - Clara - says. They don’t know exactly what happened, or how to do undo it, since he’s the only living person inception has been performed on. But we think it’s similar to mental trauma and PTSD, the symptoms are very alike. Robert isn’t too reassured by that, but by now he’ll do what he can.
He calls Saito, a few times, in between sessions, and they talk. Not for long - Robert is never quite sure what to say, and Saito is busier than ever without Jun to help him - but mostly they sit in companionable silence. It’s oddly soothing, until Robert finds out Saito’s been drinking, and then they have a screaming match and he refuses to talk to Saito until he quits.
“Look,” Robert says, “You can’t do this. Well, you can, but it’s not - you have to stop blaming yourself, Saito. It’s not healthy.”
Saito scoffs on the other end of the line, no doubt already halfway through another bottle of Macallan.
“Touch one more bottle, and I’m not going for any more sessions.” Robert growls, “And then you’ll really have something to blame yourself about.”
“Why should you care?” Saito slurs, “I hurt you. Betrayed you. And you still bother calling.”
“Shut up.” Robert snaps, patience wearing thin, “That’s because I fucking love you even after all the shit you pulled! So don’t you dare fuck up again, Saito, because I swear to God I will kill you if you do. And,” here the grin is evident in his voice, even thousands of miles away, “I found Jun, and he’s coming back, so if you don’t buck up he’ll probably gut you first.”
True to Robert’s words, Jun turns up out of the blue one Monday morning, perfectly coiffed and dressed, and proceeds to whip things into shape with single-minded precision and focus. He finds the remaining bottles under the desk and bins them all. He drags Saito out of bed in the morning and forces him to actually get work done and is generally a terror in the office. (He gets the Noguchi job done, too - Saito’s office gets sent the drycleaner’s bill after; apparently it was very messy.)
Saito quits the bottle. Robert continues going for therapy. It’s not smooth going. For every step Robert makes forward, he invariably slides several back. When he jolts awake, shaking and sweating from another bad dream, he focuses on breathing. One step at a time, he thinks. He’ll do this and get better for himself and for both of them.
Please, let me recover from this.
XIII. Don’t forget, we’ve got unfinished business, stories yet to unfold, tales yet to be retold
Saito walks into his office one day and almost spills his green tea all over the floor. Robert’s here. In his office, smiling up at him as if it’s something he does every day. The relief in his chest is tremendous. Robert still loves him, still wants to see him. Despite everything.
“Let’s start over,” says Robert. He looks better. More rested. The dark circles around his eyes have faded, along with the haunted look that used to dog him.
He sticks out his hand, half-smiling, the corners of his eyes creasing, “I’m Robert Fischer and I’m studying at RISD*.”
Saito’s only answer is to pull him close into a fierce hug and bury his face in Robert’s neck. He fights the prickle of tears in his eyes, and tightens his grip. Don’t go. Please don’t go.
“Hey.” Robert murmurs softly, “It’s okay.” He rubs circles on Saito’s back soothingly, “I’m better now.”
I don’t deserve you, Saito thinks, fingers bunching in Robert’s jacket, but I can’t let you go, either.
“I missed you,” is what he says instead.
“I know.” He leans in, fingers cupping Saito’s cheek, “I thought we made a deal. I was gonna get better and you were gonna stop beating yourself up.”
“So.” Robert’s eyes are a clear, bright blue, and Saito can’t bring himself to look away. He is beautiful like this, self-assured and fearless, the sunlight catching off the bright gold of his hair, “We good?”
“I -“ Saito chokes on the words, “Yes.” Now and always. Forever. He’ll be Robert’s as long as Robert wants him, will take whatever is Robert is happy to give him.
It’s not perfect when they kiss. Their teeth catch when Robert moves in at the wrong angle, but they fall into the rhythm easily enough, sharing each other’s breath, relearning each other all over again.
“I love you.” Saito says, when Robert finally pulls away.
He rests his forehead against the younger man’s, “Will... will you stay?”
Saito tries not to sound so hopeful. Robert is his own man now, and they haven’t seen each other for three years. It’s been a long time. Anything can happen in three years. He braces himself for Robert’s refusal. It’ll hurt, but it’s better to see Robert moving on and choosing his own path, than sticking with him. Stop being selfish for once, he thinks savagely to himself. It’s not about what I want. It’s about what’s good for him, and what he’s happy with. I won’t stand in his way, if he’s not - if he changes his mind.
“You’re thinking too hard. I can hear you.” Robert grins, “Of course I’ll stay.”
He kisses Saito again, and it’s less urgent than the first time, softer and sweeter. Robert is warm against him, pressed up against the door like this, his mouth deliciously red, and Saito wants this to last forever.
Later, much later, Saito finds a post-it stuck on the outside of the door, detailing how many meetings he’s missed in Jun’s neat writing. At the very bottom, he’s added: P/S: I told them you were ‘otherwise occupied’. ;)
Saito groans. He’s going to have rather a lot of explaining to do. That’s going be later, though. After he and Robert have properly finished catching up.
XIV. Our song has not been sung, long live us
“Proclus is yours. I don’t really care what you do with it.”
“What?” Jun can’t believe his ears. Saito has never made a mention of the company’s successor - he’s much too young (in CEO years, at least) to retire and Jun is more of a second than an actual leader. He doesn’t want a company. He wants the chase, the hunting down of contacts and information, and the occasional extraction, not a desk job, and certainly not to pander to the opinions of the old fogeys seated on the company board.
Saito reads the protest in Jun’s eyes, and laughs. “You’re capable enough, and you’ve earned it, Takenaga-shachou**.”
Jun makes a strangled noise in his throat. He doesn’t think so. This is not happening.
Saito’s mouth twitches mischievously, “Unless you’d rather take orders from Sawakita in Finance?”
Jun shudders, “No. Definitely not.” Sawakita has a penchant for loud, flamboyant, shapeless shirts, sprinkling company statements with sparkling emojis, blasting K-Pop 24/7 in his office, not turning up for meetings and making fun of Jun’s suits. He may be brilliant with numbers, but no. Jun would rather take a running leap off the company building than work for him. At least his demise would be swift, and relatively painless in comparison.
“That’s settled, then.” Saito claps Jun on the shoulder, and turns to leave.
“Sir. How are things with you and Robert? You’ve been looking better and... ” It’s not his place to ask (not really) but Jun figures he might as well use his newfound CEO-status for something to start with.
Saito’s answering smile is all Jun needs to know. He looks happier, more settled in his skin, and Jun can’t help but grin back at him.
“Oh, before I forget.” Saito hands him an envelope. “I thought you might like this.”
Jun tips it over, and a ticket falls into his palm.
DREAMSCAPES
An exhibition by Robert Fischer
2012/10/25 (Friday) - 2012/10/28 (Sunday)
To admit one only.
More art, Jun thinks glumly. But - he looks at the name again and chuckles - it looks like it’ll be quite the evening after all, seeing who it’s done by.
And it is.
*RISD - Rhode Island School of Design
**shachou - President