When You Grow Up Your Heart Dies 20/20
Fandom: Inception x Dark!Breakfast Club
Pairing(s): Arthur/Eames, Cobb/Mal
Length: 65,016 words
Summary: They went into detention with nothing in common. They witnessed something frightening that may or may not have actually happened: a dead body and blood on the walls spelling 528491. Can a nerd, a jock, a criminal, a pampered prince, and basket case, brave crossing the social cliques in order to stick together and solve this mystery?
Chapter 1 Chapter 11
Chapter 2 Chapter 12
Chapter 3 Chapter 13
Chapter 4 Chapter 14
Chapter 5 Chapter 15
Chapter 6 Chapter 16
Chapter 7 Chapter 17
Chapter 8 Chapter 18
Chapter 9 Chapter 19
Chapter 10
“NO!” Arthur shouted as he barreled through the barn door. They had been able to hear the fight from outside; the jock was really giving it his all. Above them, they entered just in time to see Eames go over the edge. The girls screamed as the rope caught him.
The jolt hurt, but Eames had been able to hold his body weight since he was twelve years old. For a second, he hung by the jaw and his fingertips, but he climbed the rope until he had the slack needed to get the noose off his neck. Then he stood in the loop and allowed the swing to stop swaying.
His arms shook, his throat burned, and his eyes stung, but one thing was more important.
“Guys get out of here!” he told them. “Run!”
“We’re not leaving you!” Arthur insisted, even as Bobby, Saito, and Ariadne started to move back outside as bid. They stilled and turned their faces back up to him.
“Is he armed?” Yusuf asked. He had a pencil and a notepad. Such a reporter.
“No.”
“Who is it?” Mal asked.
“Dunno,” Eames panted, staring his attacker down. The man had retreated to the shadows. “He’s in a mask.”
“He hasn’t said anything?” Bobby asked.
“Beyond how he was going to make me kill myself because of what I did to Yusuf? No.”
“So it IS an anti-bullying thing!” Ariadne cried triumphantly.
“Yeah, he’s a janitor or something,” Eames said. “He reads our notes in the trash, that’s how he knows everything about us. That’s how he knew to lure me here. Hey, Yusuf, I’m sorry for what I did,” Eames twisted to get the nerd in his sights, “Not just because of this. I mean, I was sorry before it nearly got me killed.”
“I know,” Yusuf laughed and waved a hand, smiling up at Owen. “You’ve only told me five hundred times.”
“I am,” Eames insisted.
Craning his head back to look up at Eames, too, Arthur pushed his hand through his hair and gasped for breath. “I thought you were going to be killed!”
Eames’ shifting on the rope had it swinging a little bit, but he kept his eyes locked on Arthur’s and he grinned his usual grin despite his position, “What? And leave you? Never.”
A huff left Arthur and he looked away for a moment before looking back up with a big, wide, dimple smile, and commanded, “Get down here.” His tone made it clear there was going to be a huge kiss the moment Eames was in reach.
“Um,” Eames adjusted his grip and said, “Can’t, love. Not without swinging over into the loft, which I’d rather not do until that fellow there is dead.”
“What’s he doing?” Cobb asked. From down on the ground none of them could see anything in the hayloft unless he was on the very edge, which he was not. Eames looked over and reported, “He’s crouching in the far corner.”
“I don’t like that,” Ariadne said. “He’s up to something.”
“He’s just trying to get where he can’t be shot at,” Eames scathed.
“We don’t have guns,” Bobby said and the sound of Mal hitting him punctuated the sentence and she hissed, “Don’t tell him that!”
“You do have a gun,” Eames said and pointed, “Dad keeps a shot gun loaded and ready in the saddle room. In case the bull flips out or something. It’s how his uncle died or whatever.”
Exasperated, Arthur asked, “WHY DIDN”T YOU USE IT BEFORE HE GOT THE ROPE AROUND YOUR NECK?”
“I thought I was climbing that ladder to you!” Eames snapped. “I made sure I had condoms, not shotgun shells. Christ.”
Cobb snorted and Bobby guffawed. Blushing from having the whole of his group of friends plus one stranger in a psycho mask hearing about his love life, Arthur looked down and cleared his throat and only just then noticed that the others were busying themselves positioning the ladder against the wall opposite the hayloft.
Mal climbed up it nearly to the top, “Can you swing this way, O?”
“Nah,” Saito said, “Rope’s too short to reach that wall.”
“At least let him try it!” Mal snapped.
“No,” Arthur cried. “Owen, don’t. To swing that far to the left you have to swing that far to the right and that’ll put you over the loft.” Where HE might grab you, but that last part was understood by all so he didn’t say it out loud.
“Give me the gun,” Mal said and Eames looked down to see that Yusuf had apparently rushed off and retrieved the gun the moment he heard about it. He now carefully handed the long heavy gun up to the girl on the ladder. She held it in the crook of her arm and climbed a little higher (Cobb saying, “Christ, don’t fall, sweetheart.” To which she said, “Shut up”) and at the top of the ladder, she aimed the gun at the masked man.
“There, now if he leaves that corner, I’ll kill him.”
Ariadne groaned, “But now you’re on the ladder! He can’t land on it with you in the way!”
“Like hell he can’t,” she retorted, inching over as if there was plenty of room. Instantly Dom started in on how dangerous it would be for Eames to try it because it could knock Mal off and Yusuf was agreeing and Mal was telling Owen to just to it, she wouldn’t fall.
“Everybody shut up,” Eames cut in. “I’m not swinging over there. Saito’s right, the rope won’t even reach.”
“Told you,” Saito said and Eames went on to explain, “Why would I make a swinging rope that was long enough to slam me into the opposite wall?”
Mal gave him an evil look for having been proven to have poor special awareness.
“We have to you get you down somehow, Owen!” Arthur said and he was moving around, looking for things to stack until he had a pile high enough for Eames to step onto.
The athlete’s arms were getting a little tired, but he could hold on for a little while longer. “I’ll get down when the cops show up. Someone called them, right?”
As Saito laughed, Ariadne cried with heavy sarcasm. “Oh, no we haven’t! We completely forgot to call the police when we saw you hanging on a rope in the middle of your barn with a psycho trying to kill you.”
“Alright, jeez,” Eames murmured even as Arthur gave the little nerd a brotherly shove and told her to stop making fun of him because he almost died.
“Mal, what’s he doing?” Cobb asked. Mal was still diligently training the gun on the killer and she answered without looking away.
“He’s just sitting there, staring at me through his mask.”
“You evil fuck!” Bobby cried up at him.
“Shoot him already,” Arthur insisted.
“Mal,” Cobb cut in here, the voice of reason despite how justified it would be for a serial killer to be killed. He said no more and she apparently listened to him because she didn’t shoot anyone.
“Who are you?” Ariadne demanded up into the loft. They waited for his answer, but none was given.
“We know you can talk,” Bobby said, “O said you were talking earlier.”
“What did he say again, O?” Cobb asked.
“He said I deserved to die for being a bully and he was going to set me up like a suicide and then go after Saito. And he’s the one that threatened you Bobby.”
“What did he sound like?” Saito asked, pale as a sheet at the news that he was next on a mad man’s list.
“I don’t know. He’s a man. He’s from around here. I don’t know.”
Bobby swore under his breath and silenced everyone, chin lifting into the air. “Maurice?” he called. “It’s you isn’t it?”
“Shit, man, that’s his name, he freaked when you said it!” Eames reported. Mal gasped. “I knew you were an evil man!”
“Fuck,” Bobby breathed, kicking up some hay. He paced in a circle and took a deep breath. “I can’t believe it-I thought you were my friend!” Bobby shouted. “How could you?”
Silence was the only answer they got and Mal said, lowly, “He’s just sitting there.”
Eames looked, and cried, “God, his head is tilted like a dog’s and he’s just looking at her. You’re a freak, dude. I hope she does kill you!”
“Owen!” Ariadne and Yusuf cried and the athlete disturbed his rope into a gentle swing as he looked down at them, “What? He’s an emotionless robot psycho killer.”
The girl visibly trembled and adjusted her aim again.
“Mal, come down,” Cobb said, eyes still on her as he went over to the ladder. “You’re seventeen. You don’t want to kill someone when you’re just seventeen. Even if it’s him.”
“Yeah,” Arthur said, then pitching his voice up at the loft, “I mean if he tries anything, by all means blow his head off; it’ll be in defense. But if he’s just sitting there, it’s not right.”
“Exactly,” Cobb said, eyes still fixed up on Mal.
She looked down at Cobb and seemed to relax and she nodded, looked back at the killer. “I’m okay.” To him she said, “I will kill you if I have to.”
“But the cops will be here in a minute,” Cobb assured, and even then Eames thought he heard the sounds of cars on gravel and the blip of sirens from a squad car.
“Is that them?” he asked eagerly. Ariadne poked her head out the door and reported, “Yes! You’re parents are coming too!”
“Go! Go tell them what’s happening!” Saito said, ushering her out the door. The pair raced off, and Bobby took vigilance at the door. Arthur stayed with Dom at the foot of the ladder, anxiously watching every movement his boyfriend made, while Yusuf scribbled away.
“OWEN!” Sarah screeched outside.
At the thought of his parents, Eames swallowed and his arms shook more. He felt a pang of homesickness he hadn’t experienced since he tried summer camp when he was little. He considered jumping down onto the ladder after all, just so he could run into their arms and it could be like before all this shit started happening, before he came out and everything changed. But when the real rescue party arrived a second later, he ended up just following orders like everyone else.
“POLICE! NOBODY MOVE!”
Those on the ground desperately directed the cops to the killer, and Eames just tried not to fall off as he promised his parents he was okay. In a blur of action and tension, Maurice was apprehended and unmasked. The aging janitor gave them each murderous glares, but he spat at Bobby as he passed.
“You sicken me, man,” Bobby said, his chin hard with the kind of angry defiance he showed to his parents. “I can’t believe I called you a friend.”
“You’re no better than they are! After all you went through as a kid, too!”
“That’s enough out of you,” the cop leading him said. Det. Miles ordered his niece off the ladder and carefully took the loaded gun from her, but patted her on the shoulder and said, “Good job.”
Mal wrinkled her nose and Cobb kissed her cheek.
By the time Eames had worked his rope into a swing wide enough to deposit him in the now safe hay loft Arthur had scampered up right behind the police officers. Eames let go of the rope and landed on his feet on the loft floor and virtually in Arthur’s arms. But the athlete was off balance and down they went. Arthur landed on his rump and Eames fell against him, between his knees back to Arthur’s front.
Not caring in the slightest, Arthur wrapped his arms around his still alive boyfriend and Eames lifted achy, heavy arms to pat Arthur’s forearms that were barring his chest as he mumbled, “Mohkay, mohkay,” Suddenly being in an embrace was doing funny things to the teen who had just faced his death and his eyes pricked.
“I love you so much,” Arthur whispered in his ear. Eames’ throat was too thick to form words, but he nuzzled his burning eyes in Arthur’s arm and gave what parts of him he could reach a squeeze so that maybe Arthur could know he returned the sentiment.
“O!” The shriek filled the barn and then his father’s voice was booming for him in frantic shouts and within moments, his parents were in the hay loft. Upon seeing his mother, he lost it, breaking down into tears and trembling and allowing his mother to smother him in hugs and kisses and questions and curses and more hugs and kisses.
They were pried apart by medical examiners to deal with the bruises around his throat, the sever rope burn in his hands, and a pretty decent sized splinter from the fight. Dad got him just as soon as the medics were done with him.
“Son,” he said, crushing him to his chest. Eames choked on the smell of farm work and aftershave, but hugged back. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
“No I am,” Dad said. “I am. I love you, son. I almost lost you before I said it to who you are now. I--...You’re my boy. That’s not gonna change.”
Tears soaked through the flannel work shirt, and Dad ruffled his hair like he used to do when he was little. They laughed and parted, drying their eyes, embarrassed. Arthur met Eames’ eye and smiled softly.
It’s okay? he mouthed silently.
Eames nodded. It was okay.
...
The End