Battered and Bruised [2/2] - Inception
Title: Battered and Bruised, [2/2]
Pairing: Arthur/other, Arthur/Eames
Summary: Part One here. Arthur falls for the wrong man and gets abused. Will Eames find Arthur and pull him back to the world he once knew? Or will he continue being lost?
Warnings: Abuse & mentions of rape
A/N: Sorry if this was really bad- unbeta'd! Feel free to leave comments and reviews.
Nothing startles you any more.
You don’t even flinch as Daniel comes up behind you and wraps his free arm around your slim waist, a whip in the other.
“Hungry, baby?” he snarls, the term of endearment rolling off his tongue in that accent that reminds you of another, so smooth, words dripping over the other like melted butter. “How’s my Arthur doing today?”
With that, he bends you over with a jerk and the next thing you know there’s a loud crack and a red welt forming across your already bruised back.
Daniel laughs, the fucking sadist, and rips away what’s left of your favorite pair of trousers. He doesn’t even bother prepping you, just slams into you with a guttural grunt, and you cry out in pain. You’re almost sure you’re bleeding.
You want to whip around and snap his neck, but you tell yourself that no, you left that life behind, and this is your reality. Death doesn’t solve anything here, except maybe bring you peace-- if you were the one dying.
**
Ariadne is almost certain that they, whoever they are, have him hidden near wherever they did their last job, but Cobb and Eames don’t listen.
Cobb goes on about scouring Europe- Paris, Amsterdam, Rome- “They always hide captives in big cities, cities where there’s too many places to seek in,” he says.
And Eames goes on about Mombasa, Kenya, Mumbai, Phnom Penh, places covered in dust and grime, places too foreign and crime-ridden, places where a mere disappearance will go by unnoticed.
One thing is for sure, though-- all of them agree that Arthur wouldn’t have disappeared without a trace, wouldn’t have disappeared without saying goodbye, at the very least. He owed them-and the world that they shared-that much.
**
Afterwards, you ask yourself why you let yourself be that naïve.
Daniel, after all, isn’t your first boyfriend, if you would still call him that now.
There was Michael, blond and in his late ‘teens-it made you feel like you were ruining him, but he always told you that he was “already ruined anyway, so why bother?” You broke up with him because Cobb had called you in for a six-month job-you were too loyal to refuse, and you didn’t want to dangle poor Michael from a string.
Then there was Sam, very witty, very opinionated. He certainly was the one who wore the pants in the relationship. He wouldn’t understand whenever you wanted to meet up with Cobb to discuss the intricacies of a job; he always complained, and you knew that he was jealous, but you couldn’t do a thing, after all. You knew your job-- which ultimately meant Cobb, and the rest of whatever team the two of you put together-- came first.
When Eames came into your life, you hadn’t been in a relationship for years, throwing yourself into the world of dreams wholeheartedly without skipping a beat. You didn’t even allow yourself the occasional one night stand.
So when Eames, witty Eames, intelligent Eames, an Eames that would not quit getting “your knickers in a twist, darling” as he would always say, came into your life, you fell for him headfirst without knowing. And when you finally knew, he was under your skin-he was a living, breathing part of you. You’d never met anyone else-except Cobb-who truly understood what it was like to be a dreamer, who truly understood the consequences: consequences that meant you had to stay away for the sake of the team.
You allowed yourself dreams of him, though. You would hook yourself up to the PASIV machine at home, despite a long day of planning, needles and sedatives at the warehouse, and dream that he was the one hovering over you, pushing into you, touching you with a gentleness that made you whimper and wish that your projection of him were real.
**
You hear footsteps above you, one night, when you’re curled up on the floor in the basement that that monster of a man locks you in. Then you hear screams.
At first, you’re thinking, fuck, Daniel’s got another victim, Daniel’s got another man whose life he’s been ruining, when another bloodcurdling scream pierces the air, and then you realize that it’s Daniel who’s the one screaming. You’re too tired to be scared- you’re too tired to care.
Someone kicks open the basement door with a bang- you don’t even flinch.
And then there are warm hands, warm arms cradling you, and a gasp.
“Oh Arthur,” says the voice, and you freeze. You’d know that voice anywhere. You force your eyes open, and you stare back at Eames’ brown ones and smile, thinking, for a projection, you're so beautiful-and then you don’t remember anything else.
**
You’re sure it’s all probably a dream when you wake up on a bed so soft, dressed in a pair of silk pajama pants so exquisite and buttery under your fingers. You almost want to slap yourself awake when you find a heavy arm draped lazily around your waist that belonged to a heavily tattooed body that you’d know anywhere.
“S’ real, Arthur,” he mumbles sleepily when you shake him awake. “S’ real. Just go back to sleep. ‘Splain later.”
**
He cradles you close, kisses your jawline, cuddles you into him protectively, whispering "I'll never let him hurt you again, Arthur. I swear."
And then he kisses you so gently, like the Eames in your dreams but only so much better, that you're finally certain that you're awake.
**
a/n: didn't mean for the sudden schmoop in the end, idek how to write a protective!Eames. at first i wrote him hovering over Arthur and Arthur getting annoyed but it spun into something else that i really didn't like so i cut that bit out and just left it at that. hope you like, still! D:
Pairing: Arthur/other, Arthur/Eames
Summary: Part One here. Arthur falls for the wrong man and gets abused. Will Eames find Arthur and pull him back to the world he once knew? Or will he continue being lost?
Warnings: Abuse & mentions of rape
A/N: Sorry if this was really bad- unbeta'd! Feel free to leave comments and reviews.
Nothing startles you any more.
You don’t even flinch as Daniel comes up behind you and wraps his free arm around your slim waist, a whip in the other.
“Hungry, baby?” he snarls, the term of endearment rolling off his tongue in that accent that reminds you of another, so smooth, words dripping over the other like melted butter. “How’s my Arthur doing today?”
With that, he bends you over with a jerk and the next thing you know there’s a loud crack and a red welt forming across your already bruised back.
Daniel laughs, the fucking sadist, and rips away what’s left of your favorite pair of trousers. He doesn’t even bother prepping you, just slams into you with a guttural grunt, and you cry out in pain. You’re almost sure you’re bleeding.
You want to whip around and snap his neck, but you tell yourself that no, you left that life behind, and this is your reality. Death doesn’t solve anything here, except maybe bring you peace-- if you were the one dying.
**
Ariadne is almost certain that they, whoever they are, have him hidden near wherever they did their last job, but Cobb and Eames don’t listen.
Cobb goes on about scouring Europe- Paris, Amsterdam, Rome- “They always hide captives in big cities, cities where there’s too many places to seek in,” he says.
And Eames goes on about Mombasa, Kenya, Mumbai, Phnom Penh, places covered in dust and grime, places too foreign and crime-ridden, places where a mere disappearance will go by unnoticed.
One thing is for sure, though-- all of them agree that Arthur wouldn’t have disappeared without a trace, wouldn’t have disappeared without saying goodbye, at the very least. He owed them-and the world that they shared-that much.
**
Afterwards, you ask yourself why you let yourself be that naïve.
Daniel, after all, isn’t your first boyfriend, if you would still call him that now.
There was Michael, blond and in his late ‘teens-it made you feel like you were ruining him, but he always told you that he was “already ruined anyway, so why bother?” You broke up with him because Cobb had called you in for a six-month job-you were too loyal to refuse, and you didn’t want to dangle poor Michael from a string.
Then there was Sam, very witty, very opinionated. He certainly was the one who wore the pants in the relationship. He wouldn’t understand whenever you wanted to meet up with Cobb to discuss the intricacies of a job; he always complained, and you knew that he was jealous, but you couldn’t do a thing, after all. You knew your job-- which ultimately meant Cobb, and the rest of whatever team the two of you put together-- came first.
When Eames came into your life, you hadn’t been in a relationship for years, throwing yourself into the world of dreams wholeheartedly without skipping a beat. You didn’t even allow yourself the occasional one night stand.
So when Eames, witty Eames, intelligent Eames, an Eames that would not quit getting “your knickers in a twist, darling” as he would always say, came into your life, you fell for him headfirst without knowing. And when you finally knew, he was under your skin-he was a living, breathing part of you. You’d never met anyone else-except Cobb-who truly understood what it was like to be a dreamer, who truly understood the consequences: consequences that meant you had to stay away for the sake of the team.
You allowed yourself dreams of him, though. You would hook yourself up to the PASIV machine at home, despite a long day of planning, needles and sedatives at the warehouse, and dream that he was the one hovering over you, pushing into you, touching you with a gentleness that made you whimper and wish that your projection of him were real.
**
You hear footsteps above you, one night, when you’re curled up on the floor in the basement that that monster of a man locks you in. Then you hear screams.
At first, you’re thinking, fuck, Daniel’s got another victim, Daniel’s got another man whose life he’s been ruining, when another bloodcurdling scream pierces the air, and then you realize that it’s Daniel who’s the one screaming. You’re too tired to be scared- you’re too tired to care.
Someone kicks open the basement door with a bang- you don’t even flinch.
And then there are warm hands, warm arms cradling you, and a gasp.
“Oh Arthur,” says the voice, and you freeze. You’d know that voice anywhere. You force your eyes open, and you stare back at Eames’ brown ones and smile, thinking, for a projection, you're so beautiful-and then you don’t remember anything else.
**
You’re sure it’s all probably a dream when you wake up on a bed so soft, dressed in a pair of silk pajama pants so exquisite and buttery under your fingers. You almost want to slap yourself awake when you find a heavy arm draped lazily around your waist that belonged to a heavily tattooed body that you’d know anywhere.
“S’ real, Arthur,” he mumbles sleepily when you shake him awake. “S’ real. Just go back to sleep. ‘Splain later.”
**
He cradles you close, kisses your jawline, cuddles you into him protectively, whispering "I'll never let him hurt you again, Arthur. I swear."
And then he kisses you so gently, like the Eames in your dreams but only so much better, that you're finally certain that you're awake.
**
a/n: didn't mean for the sudden schmoop in the end, idek how to write a protective!Eames. at first i wrote him hovering over Arthur and Arthur getting annoyed but it spun into something else that i really didn't like so i cut that bit out and just left it at that. hope you like, still! D: