Every Traveler Please Come Home
Title: Every Traveler Please Come Home
Fandom: Inception
Series: Three Is More Than Just Company
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur/Eames
Rating: R for language, again
Disclaimer: No, not mine.
Summary: Arthur confronts his past, but he's not doing it alone this time.
So turn and turn again
We are calling in all the shares
Every traveler please come home
And tell us all that you have seen
Break every lock to every door
Return every gun to every drawer
So we can turn and turn again - Turn and Turn Again, All Thieves
Arthur leans against the kitchen counter, scowling at the wall opposite him. Of course, it's not the wall which is making him so irritated; rather it's the person he's speaking to on the phone.
“Look, officer, I appreciate your concern, really. I doubt many parole officers actually give a damn about their parolees, but this really isn't any of your business,” he says, only just managing to keep his voice even.
“Mr. Levine, most of the guys I get stuck with are career criminals who either enjoy hurting people or don't care one way or the other. Your father... He's a guy who can't seem to pull himself out of trouble, but the only person he hurts is himself.”
“You're forgetting my mother. Miranda Levine? You do know how she died, right? That's because my father was driving drunk, like he did so very often.” Fuck an even tone; Arthur can hear the bitter sarcasm lacing his own words and he doesn't care. Not at this point.
“I'm sorry, I should have remembered... Look, I'm calling because Jacob has late-stage liver cancer, and if you don't see him soon, you won't get another chance.”
Arthur blinks, for a moment stunned into silence. “I... I didn't know that. I'm not sure what exactly I should say to that, but I'll keep it in mind. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go.”
“What was that about?” Ariadne's voice makes him jump, and he spins around to see her and Eames in the doorway. Christ, he didn't hear them come back from meeting with their latest client; he really is distracted. He opens his mouth to say it's nothing, but he knows that look, on both of them. If he says that, they won't buy it.
So he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “That was my father's parole officer, believe it or not. He's been in and out of jail since he killed my mother, mostly shit related to being drunk, but he's out again. And I don't think he'll be back in; apparently he's got late-stage liver cancer.” He can hear the lack of any real upset in his own voice, and wonders if he should feel guilty about that.
“What did the parole officer want?” Eames asks. “Just to tell you that?”
“He thinks I should go see Jacob. I said I'd think about it, but I...”
“Do you want to see him?” Ariadne wants to know, her voice quiet. Arthur shrugs.
“He never wrote to me. I wrote to him, for the first two years I was in the system. I knew the accident that killed my mother was his fault, he was drunk again and driving too fast even for a sober person, but he was still my dad, you know? He never wrote back, not once. I never planned to see him, but... I don't know. If I don't go now, I might not get another chance, and I might regret it.”
~ ~ ~
It's clear that Arthur doesn't really want to be here. Ariadne can see it in the rigid way he holds himself, the tight lines of his face. She's not Eames, to pick up on the body language of everyone she sees and read it like a book, but when it comes to her boys, she knows them very well. And speaking of Eames, he glances at her behind Arthur's back and she knows that if she can see this, he probably picks up even more, because it's a skill of his. The same worry she feels is reflected back in gray eyes, but there's nothing they can do but be there.
Arthur knocks on the door, and it's a hell of a shock when the man answers. He's tall and broad - Arthur clearly got his height from his father, if not the build - but the real shock is his eyes. That wide, ravaged face doesn't look a thing like Arthur's and Ariadne suspects Jacob and Arthur never did look that much alike, but the eyes are the same. Arthur's eyes, dark and guarded, in a stranger's face. It's more alarming than Ariadne would have thought, but maybe that's because otherwise Arthur and Jacob look nothing alike, so it feels sort of... wrong.
“Arthur! I didn't think you'd... I... Well, I'm glad to be wrong.” Jacob sounds almost pathetically happy, it makes Ariadne feel a little bad for him. She can't imagine what it must be like to live with the guilt he has to be carrying around. But she also knows he brought it on himself.
Jacob lets the three of them in, and it's clear he wants to ask who she and Eames are, why they're with Arthur, but he doesn't. He's probably afraid that if he asks, if he says anything that could be seen as confrontational, Arthur will leave. And she can't blame him for that, since Arthur's so tense that he looks like he might bolt at any minute. She wants to grab his hand, and she sees Eames check the same impulse, because they're not sure how to handle this. Arthur introduced them, but only by name, no explanation of what they are to each other, so they don't know if Arthur even wants his father to know.
But Jacob is apparently like his son in at least one more way, and those familiar eyes fill with an also-familiar sharpness as he looks at their left hands. “You three... You're together then, all three of you?” It's clear he wants to disapprove, or at least ask more questions about how that could work, but he doesn't dare to.
Arthur nods, jerkily, and then his eyes land on a photo. The man in it is clearly a younger Jacob, floppy dirty blond hair falling into his eyes, and the woman... God. It's the same woman in the only childhood photo Arthur has, a woman who looks a lot like her son except her eyes, even in the photo, are a clear, brilliant blue. “You have a picture of Mom.” Arthur's eyes travel around the room. “You have a lot of pictures with her. And with me.”
“I do. I... I never wanted to hurt her, I loved her. And I didn't want to hurt you either.”
“You killed her. All because you couldn't quit the drinking. She asked you to slow down and you fucking sped up!”
“I know, and I've hated myself for that every day of my life since. You can't possibly hate me more for it. I'm sorry, I've always been so sorry, and then I wasn't there for you, and I - ”
“I wrote to you.” Arthur doesn't sound angry now, his voice is flat. “When they first put me in the system, when you got locked up for killing Mom. I wrote, and you never wrote back. I didn't hate you then, because I knew she wouldn't have. Why did you ignore me?”
Ariadne suddenly feels like she shouldn't be here for this, and she moves slightly, wondering if she and Eames should go. “No, don't go, you two, please don't...” Arthur's voice is still flat but there's an undercurrent of something, she's not sure what. It scares her, though, in a way she can't put into words.
Jacob's staring down at his hands, but he finally says, “I couldn't. It was all my fault you were there, and you didn't even seem angry with me. I felt so guilty, I couldn't... I thought it would be better for you if I just let you go.”
“So what the hell do you want from me now? What are you looking for, some kind of absolution?” Arthur's voice is breaking, and he looks wild. Ariadne forgets her uncertainty and grabs his hand; Eames is gripping his shoulder and he looks as scared as she is right now.
Jacob doesn't answer, but it's clear that yes, that is what he's looking for, and Arthur laughs. It's a harsh sound with no real mirth in it, and then he's shaking off Ariadne and Eames, standing up. “I... I can't do this. I can't be here.”
He walks out, and Eames takes off after him. Ariadne lingers for a moment, looking at the tired old man in his lonely apartment, surrounded by the past. He did this to himself, but that only makes it even more tragic.
“I loved them both,” he tells her. “My boy doesn't believe that anymore and I can't blame him. I'm not going to ask you to bring him back, but... Tell him I'm sorry, please?”
Ariadne nods, but she's angry all of a sudden, because she's realized something. It's this man more than any of the foster families, wallowing in his guilt and ignoring his son, who started the chain reaction that ended with Arthur running to Miami, nearly two years ago now. And she can't forgive this man for that. If she can't, how can Arthur? She turns away and leaves Jacob Levine alone, because he's not her problem.
~ ~ ~
Arthur gets to the car, and by the time he does he knows where he needs to go. But a familiar hand grabs his wrist as he goes to open the door. “There is no way in hell you're driving like this,” Eames says.
“Fuck off.”
“No, I don't think I will, because I prefer you breathing.”
“Eames...” Arthur stops, because he's right. But... “I need to go somewhere, I have to...”
“So give Ari or me directions, and we'll go. But you're too upset to be behind a wheel right now, Arthur.”
Ariadne joins them at that point, and Arthur finally gives in, moving away from the driver's side. Eames gets in, and Arthur takes the shotgun seat, since it's easier to direct from there. Ariadne's in the backseat behind him, and none of them speak except when Arthur's giving directions. What is there to say, really?
When they arrive at the destination Arthur just needed to go to, Eames glances at him worriedly, and Ariadne asks, “Why are we at a cemetery, Arthur?”
“I... My mom, I need to...” Arthur stops, takes a deep breath, and then continues. “I need to visit her grave. Could you two... just stay here for a few minutes?”
They both agree and he gets out of the car, walking quickly to where he knows his mother is buried, despite the long years since he's been here. It's March, the familiar cool bite in the air that he's missed in San Francisco, despite himself. San Francisco might be far enough north to not follow the cliché of sunny California that L.A. has inspired, but it doesn't feel quite the way early spring - or autumn, for that matter - does here on the East Coast. He can't explain it, but it's true.
He's surprised when he gets to the plot - she shares it with her brother, Brian - because there are flowers there. Arthur makes sure that his mother's grave is always kept clear, but he doesn't have flowers placed there because he knows they die quickly. These flowers are fake, but still bright enough that they must have been left recently. They're a little to the left, more for Brian than Miranda, but still centered enough to be for both of the Hartford siblings.
Arthur can think of only one person who would be putting flowers here besides him, only one other person who would care about these two, and that's Brian's daughter and Arthur's former coworker, Jules Sinclair, but he pushes those thoughts aside for the moment. “Hey, Mom,” he says quietly, kneeling on the grass and tracing his fingers over the letters of her name. “I know it's been a long time, and I'm sorry. I could blame it on work, but...”
But it wasn't work. He's been happy, for the first time really since before she died, and he hasn't wanted to come back to all this pain. “I met someone. Well, actually, I've met two someones. I told you about Eames, before, how I ran away from him. But you don't know about Ariadne, I didn't have a chance to come here last time I was in the city. They're amazing, I can't even... I love them so much, I didn't know it could be like this. I guess it has to be how you felt about Dad, because you forgave him everything. And now he wants me to do the same thing, but I don't know how, Mom. He's the reason you're here, and how am I supposed to forgive that?”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He'd gelled it today and worn a suit, trying to distance himself from what was happening. He'll probably have grass stains on the pants now, and his hair's a mess, but he doesn't care. “I wish you were still here, that I could have brought Ari and Sean - that would be Eames - to meet you instead of him. They're waiting in the car for me, I asked them to give me a few minutes, I needed it.”
He sighs, falling silent, and he stays that way for a few minutes before standing, brushing the grass and dirt from his pants. His fingers brush along the top of the headstone, and he feels eyes on him. Glancing around, he sees Ariadne and Eames, and he can't help but smile. “I'm OK,” he says, seeing the way they're watching him.
“Miranda Levine. That's your mum, right?” Eames asks when he and Ariadne get closer. Arthur nods.
“Yeah. I was just thinking that I wish she could have met you two. It would have been interesting.”
“You don't think she might have been uncomfortable with us? I mean, coming from a different generation, and all?” Ariadne wants to know.
“Probably, but she'd have dealt with it, and even so she'd have liked you.”
Ariadne smiles, putting her hand over his, which is still resting on top of the headstone. “Well, maybe you can introduce us then. It's not quite the same, but...”
~ ~ ~
Arthur doesn't go back to see his father a second time. He does write Jacob a letter, in which he says that he can forgive his father for the wrongs Jacob did to him, but he can't offer the older man true absolution. It's not his right, and it's not even in his power. He does make sure his father is buried on his mother's other side, though; she would have wanted it, and the one thing Arthur knows to be true about his father is that Jacob did love Miranda.
The same day he arranges his father's burial, he makes another phone call.
“Sinclair.”
“Jules? Hi, it's Arthur.”
“Arthur? This is a surprise.”
“Yeah. I... I visited my mom's grave a month or so ago, and there were flowers. I'm guessing you put them there?”
“Yeah. I know I never knew either of them but it felt... right. Are you really just calling for that? You knew it had to be me.”
“No, actually, I... Are you going to be in San Francisco anytime soon?”
“I'm supposed to interview someone for a position with the Institute next month, why?”
Arthur takes a deep breath, and then says, “I thought we should meet for coffee. We never really talked before, you and I. Maybe it's time we did.”
He's told himself for years that he has no family left, and it was almost true. He's found his own family in Ariadne and Eames, but maybe it's time he reached out to the only blood relative he still has. Jules was as alone in the world as he was, he knows that. So maybe they can find something of what they either lost or never had in each other. He doesn't know, but it can't hurt to try.
Link to the next installment: fae-boleyn.livejournal.com/14155.html
Fandom: Inception
Series: Three Is More Than Just Company
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur/Eames
Rating: R for language, again
Disclaimer: No, not mine.
Summary: Arthur confronts his past, but he's not doing it alone this time.
So turn and turn again
We are calling in all the shares
Every traveler please come home
And tell us all that you have seen
Break every lock to every door
Return every gun to every drawer
So we can turn and turn again - Turn and Turn Again, All Thieves
Arthur leans against the kitchen counter, scowling at the wall opposite him. Of course, it's not the wall which is making him so irritated; rather it's the person he's speaking to on the phone.
“Look, officer, I appreciate your concern, really. I doubt many parole officers actually give a damn about their parolees, but this really isn't any of your business,” he says, only just managing to keep his voice even.
“Mr. Levine, most of the guys I get stuck with are career criminals who either enjoy hurting people or don't care one way or the other. Your father... He's a guy who can't seem to pull himself out of trouble, but the only person he hurts is himself.”
“You're forgetting my mother. Miranda Levine? You do know how she died, right? That's because my father was driving drunk, like he did so very often.” Fuck an even tone; Arthur can hear the bitter sarcasm lacing his own words and he doesn't care. Not at this point.
“I'm sorry, I should have remembered... Look, I'm calling because Jacob has late-stage liver cancer, and if you don't see him soon, you won't get another chance.”
Arthur blinks, for a moment stunned into silence. “I... I didn't know that. I'm not sure what exactly I should say to that, but I'll keep it in mind. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go.”
“What was that about?” Ariadne's voice makes him jump, and he spins around to see her and Eames in the doorway. Christ, he didn't hear them come back from meeting with their latest client; he really is distracted. He opens his mouth to say it's nothing, but he knows that look, on both of them. If he says that, they won't buy it.
So he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “That was my father's parole officer, believe it or not. He's been in and out of jail since he killed my mother, mostly shit related to being drunk, but he's out again. And I don't think he'll be back in; apparently he's got late-stage liver cancer.” He can hear the lack of any real upset in his own voice, and wonders if he should feel guilty about that.
“What did the parole officer want?” Eames asks. “Just to tell you that?”
“He thinks I should go see Jacob. I said I'd think about it, but I...”
“Do you want to see him?” Ariadne wants to know, her voice quiet. Arthur shrugs.
“He never wrote to me. I wrote to him, for the first two years I was in the system. I knew the accident that killed my mother was his fault, he was drunk again and driving too fast even for a sober person, but he was still my dad, you know? He never wrote back, not once. I never planned to see him, but... I don't know. If I don't go now, I might not get another chance, and I might regret it.”
~ ~ ~
It's clear that Arthur doesn't really want to be here. Ariadne can see it in the rigid way he holds himself, the tight lines of his face. She's not Eames, to pick up on the body language of everyone she sees and read it like a book, but when it comes to her boys, she knows them very well. And speaking of Eames, he glances at her behind Arthur's back and she knows that if she can see this, he probably picks up even more, because it's a skill of his. The same worry she feels is reflected back in gray eyes, but there's nothing they can do but be there.
Arthur knocks on the door, and it's a hell of a shock when the man answers. He's tall and broad - Arthur clearly got his height from his father, if not the build - but the real shock is his eyes. That wide, ravaged face doesn't look a thing like Arthur's and Ariadne suspects Jacob and Arthur never did look that much alike, but the eyes are the same. Arthur's eyes, dark and guarded, in a stranger's face. It's more alarming than Ariadne would have thought, but maybe that's because otherwise Arthur and Jacob look nothing alike, so it feels sort of... wrong.
“Arthur! I didn't think you'd... I... Well, I'm glad to be wrong.” Jacob sounds almost pathetically happy, it makes Ariadne feel a little bad for him. She can't imagine what it must be like to live with the guilt he has to be carrying around. But she also knows he brought it on himself.
Jacob lets the three of them in, and it's clear he wants to ask who she and Eames are, why they're with Arthur, but he doesn't. He's probably afraid that if he asks, if he says anything that could be seen as confrontational, Arthur will leave. And she can't blame him for that, since Arthur's so tense that he looks like he might bolt at any minute. She wants to grab his hand, and she sees Eames check the same impulse, because they're not sure how to handle this. Arthur introduced them, but only by name, no explanation of what they are to each other, so they don't know if Arthur even wants his father to know.
But Jacob is apparently like his son in at least one more way, and those familiar eyes fill with an also-familiar sharpness as he looks at their left hands. “You three... You're together then, all three of you?” It's clear he wants to disapprove, or at least ask more questions about how that could work, but he doesn't dare to.
Arthur nods, jerkily, and then his eyes land on a photo. The man in it is clearly a younger Jacob, floppy dirty blond hair falling into his eyes, and the woman... God. It's the same woman in the only childhood photo Arthur has, a woman who looks a lot like her son except her eyes, even in the photo, are a clear, brilliant blue. “You have a picture of Mom.” Arthur's eyes travel around the room. “You have a lot of pictures with her. And with me.”
“I do. I... I never wanted to hurt her, I loved her. And I didn't want to hurt you either.”
“You killed her. All because you couldn't quit the drinking. She asked you to slow down and you fucking sped up!”
“I know, and I've hated myself for that every day of my life since. You can't possibly hate me more for it. I'm sorry, I've always been so sorry, and then I wasn't there for you, and I - ”
“I wrote to you.” Arthur doesn't sound angry now, his voice is flat. “When they first put me in the system, when you got locked up for killing Mom. I wrote, and you never wrote back. I didn't hate you then, because I knew she wouldn't have. Why did you ignore me?”
Ariadne suddenly feels like she shouldn't be here for this, and she moves slightly, wondering if she and Eames should go. “No, don't go, you two, please don't...” Arthur's voice is still flat but there's an undercurrent of something, she's not sure what. It scares her, though, in a way she can't put into words.
Jacob's staring down at his hands, but he finally says, “I couldn't. It was all my fault you were there, and you didn't even seem angry with me. I felt so guilty, I couldn't... I thought it would be better for you if I just let you go.”
“So what the hell do you want from me now? What are you looking for, some kind of absolution?” Arthur's voice is breaking, and he looks wild. Ariadne forgets her uncertainty and grabs his hand; Eames is gripping his shoulder and he looks as scared as she is right now.
Jacob doesn't answer, but it's clear that yes, that is what he's looking for, and Arthur laughs. It's a harsh sound with no real mirth in it, and then he's shaking off Ariadne and Eames, standing up. “I... I can't do this. I can't be here.”
He walks out, and Eames takes off after him. Ariadne lingers for a moment, looking at the tired old man in his lonely apartment, surrounded by the past. He did this to himself, but that only makes it even more tragic.
“I loved them both,” he tells her. “My boy doesn't believe that anymore and I can't blame him. I'm not going to ask you to bring him back, but... Tell him I'm sorry, please?”
Ariadne nods, but she's angry all of a sudden, because she's realized something. It's this man more than any of the foster families, wallowing in his guilt and ignoring his son, who started the chain reaction that ended with Arthur running to Miami, nearly two years ago now. And she can't forgive this man for that. If she can't, how can Arthur? She turns away and leaves Jacob Levine alone, because he's not her problem.
~ ~ ~
Arthur gets to the car, and by the time he does he knows where he needs to go. But a familiar hand grabs his wrist as he goes to open the door. “There is no way in hell you're driving like this,” Eames says.
“Fuck off.”
“No, I don't think I will, because I prefer you breathing.”
“Eames...” Arthur stops, because he's right. But... “I need to go somewhere, I have to...”
“So give Ari or me directions, and we'll go. But you're too upset to be behind a wheel right now, Arthur.”
Ariadne joins them at that point, and Arthur finally gives in, moving away from the driver's side. Eames gets in, and Arthur takes the shotgun seat, since it's easier to direct from there. Ariadne's in the backseat behind him, and none of them speak except when Arthur's giving directions. What is there to say, really?
When they arrive at the destination Arthur just needed to go to, Eames glances at him worriedly, and Ariadne asks, “Why are we at a cemetery, Arthur?”
“I... My mom, I need to...” Arthur stops, takes a deep breath, and then continues. “I need to visit her grave. Could you two... just stay here for a few minutes?”
They both agree and he gets out of the car, walking quickly to where he knows his mother is buried, despite the long years since he's been here. It's March, the familiar cool bite in the air that he's missed in San Francisco, despite himself. San Francisco might be far enough north to not follow the cliché of sunny California that L.A. has inspired, but it doesn't feel quite the way early spring - or autumn, for that matter - does here on the East Coast. He can't explain it, but it's true.
He's surprised when he gets to the plot - she shares it with her brother, Brian - because there are flowers there. Arthur makes sure that his mother's grave is always kept clear, but he doesn't have flowers placed there because he knows they die quickly. These flowers are fake, but still bright enough that they must have been left recently. They're a little to the left, more for Brian than Miranda, but still centered enough to be for both of the Hartford siblings.
Arthur can think of only one person who would be putting flowers here besides him, only one other person who would care about these two, and that's Brian's daughter and Arthur's former coworker, Jules Sinclair, but he pushes those thoughts aside for the moment. “Hey, Mom,” he says quietly, kneeling on the grass and tracing his fingers over the letters of her name. “I know it's been a long time, and I'm sorry. I could blame it on work, but...”
But it wasn't work. He's been happy, for the first time really since before she died, and he hasn't wanted to come back to all this pain. “I met someone. Well, actually, I've met two someones. I told you about Eames, before, how I ran away from him. But you don't know about Ariadne, I didn't have a chance to come here last time I was in the city. They're amazing, I can't even... I love them so much, I didn't know it could be like this. I guess it has to be how you felt about Dad, because you forgave him everything. And now he wants me to do the same thing, but I don't know how, Mom. He's the reason you're here, and how am I supposed to forgive that?”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He'd gelled it today and worn a suit, trying to distance himself from what was happening. He'll probably have grass stains on the pants now, and his hair's a mess, but he doesn't care. “I wish you were still here, that I could have brought Ari and Sean - that would be Eames - to meet you instead of him. They're waiting in the car for me, I asked them to give me a few minutes, I needed it.”
He sighs, falling silent, and he stays that way for a few minutes before standing, brushing the grass and dirt from his pants. His fingers brush along the top of the headstone, and he feels eyes on him. Glancing around, he sees Ariadne and Eames, and he can't help but smile. “I'm OK,” he says, seeing the way they're watching him.
“Miranda Levine. That's your mum, right?” Eames asks when he and Ariadne get closer. Arthur nods.
“Yeah. I was just thinking that I wish she could have met you two. It would have been interesting.”
“You don't think she might have been uncomfortable with us? I mean, coming from a different generation, and all?” Ariadne wants to know.
“Probably, but she'd have dealt with it, and even so she'd have liked you.”
Ariadne smiles, putting her hand over his, which is still resting on top of the headstone. “Well, maybe you can introduce us then. It's not quite the same, but...”
~ ~ ~
Arthur doesn't go back to see his father a second time. He does write Jacob a letter, in which he says that he can forgive his father for the wrongs Jacob did to him, but he can't offer the older man true absolution. It's not his right, and it's not even in his power. He does make sure his father is buried on his mother's other side, though; she would have wanted it, and the one thing Arthur knows to be true about his father is that Jacob did love Miranda.
The same day he arranges his father's burial, he makes another phone call.
“Sinclair.”
“Jules? Hi, it's Arthur.”
“Arthur? This is a surprise.”
“Yeah. I... I visited my mom's grave a month or so ago, and there were flowers. I'm guessing you put them there?”
“Yeah. I know I never knew either of them but it felt... right. Are you really just calling for that? You knew it had to be me.”
“No, actually, I... Are you going to be in San Francisco anytime soon?”
“I'm supposed to interview someone for a position with the Institute next month, why?”
Arthur takes a deep breath, and then says, “I thought we should meet for coffee. We never really talked before, you and I. Maybe it's time we did.”
He's told himself for years that he has no family left, and it was almost true. He's found his own family in Ariadne and Eames, but maybe it's time he reached out to the only blood relative he still has. Jules was as alone in the world as he was, he knows that. So maybe they can find something of what they either lost or never had in each other. He doesn't know, but it can't hurt to try.
Link to the next installment: fae-boleyn.livejournal.com/14155.html