Fic: Dreamer Boy (2/?)
Title: Dreamer Boy
Rating: PG-13 for now
Warnings: Angst, Memory Alteration
Pairings/Characters: Arthur/Eames, OFC/Eames/OMC, Dom/Mal, Ariadne
Word Count: 2,469
Summary: A world where Mal isn't the one that Dom had tried inception on. And yet the consequences are still disastrous.
No matter how he fell asleep the night before Arthur always managed to wake up facing the empty side of his bed. It was as though he was unconsciously trying to search out his bed partner, somehow not being able to remember that that person hadn’t been there for years now.
But that wasn’t something that Arthur wanted to think about. Or at anytime, really, but that didn’t stop the memories from invading anyway.
Arthur pushed himself up from the bed with a sigh, directing his mind back to the routine instead. It was the best way of coping he had found so far, after all. Perhaps because having to focus on the details of it didn’t give his mind too much time to think about anything else.
And he hadn’t been working himself into the ground, despite anything Mal might say. He was pretty sure that he had been dragged into this whole arrangement in Paris so that she could force him into a respite of sorts. He had thought about complaining to her about it before thinking better. After all, if he got through this it would at least put her off his case for a little while.
If she tried to hook him up with someone, however, than he couldn’t promise that he would maintain his composure. It wasn’t like there were any shortage of people for him to pick up when he wanted someone to tumble into bed with in any part of the world that he traveled to.
There were times when he would wonder if one of his hook ups could turn into something more, if he could have someone to wake up with tender kisses and breakfast in bed before they had to start out on their day; together, always together. But the moment he would try to imagine it his mind would instantly be filled with memories of a bulky British man standing in his kitchen, pressing a mug of coffee into his hands with a brilliant smile before whispering, “Darling,” into a kiss pressed to the corner of Arthur’s mouth.
He couldn’t be that way with anyone else. And he knew he couldn’t because the only the one he wanted to be with like that was Eames.
But Eames was gone. Eames had been gone for five years.
---
The warehouse was already filled with its usual occupants by the time Arthur arrived, which made him frown. He tended to like to be the first one there so that he could prep the space in question to his standards, making sure that his teammates would have everything they needed on their selected desks by the time they came in. That was the job of a point man, after all, or at least the job of a good one.
“Am I late?” he asked as he approached the little circle of chairs. He arched a brow as their heads all whipped towards him almost as one.
Mal was the first to speak, of course, just like always. “Oh, no, Arthur, of course not!” She flashed him a smile, quick and gleaming. “We just wanted to get started a little early.”
Arthur wished that he knew some way of probing around her expression so that he could know whether she was telling the truth or not. It gave off all signs of being impenetrable, but there had to be a chink in it somewhere. Eames would have been able to find it in a heartbeat, would probably have leaned over to whisper it Arthur’s ear later with a grin...
Fuck.
Arthur took a deep breath, refocusing himself by directing himself towards Ariadne, the college student that this whole thing was focused around.
He would admit that he had had his reservations when Mal had called him to inform him of someone who was basically still just a kid and how she needed to be trained right away before anyone else had the chance to get their hands on her. The only thing that had convinced him to come out had been the fact that Mal’s father, Miles, had been the one who had vouched for the girl. Miles had been the one who had showed them all how to use the PASIV back when it was still for research purposes, so if he said that something was good when it came to the business Arthur tended to trust him.
Mal had made it pretty damn clear that she would fly out to New York City herself to drag him kicking and screaming to Paris if he tried to turn the offer down as well.
And after meeting Ariadne, Arthur found that he couldn’t really regret his decision to come. She was everything that Mal had promised and more. Arthur really didn’t think he had ever seen someone integrate themselves into the dream world that fast.
Well, except perhaps with Eames, but that had been with forging not architecture and he wasn’t suppose to be thinking about the man so that didn’t matter.
He offered her a small smile, unable to stop it from widening when she returned it at full force. “So whose head are we taking you into today?” he asked.
He should have known that he wasn’t going to like the answer when Ariadne’s smile dropped from her face and her eyes bounced anxiously from Dom to Mal to back again.
Dom leaned back in his chair with a sigh, rubbing a hand across his face. “We were thinking of going into yours, Arthur.” He shot Arthur a glance, brow crinkling slightly. “Is that, okay?”
The laugh Arthur let out in response to that question felt as brittle as it sounded. “Do I really have a choice in that?” He sighed, feeling a bit bad when Ariadne squirmed in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with the situation as a whole. “No, no, it’s fine. You need to get all the experience you can with different kinds of dreamscapes anyway, Ariadne.”
“If you’re sure…” Ariadne snapped her mouth shut the instant Arthur nodded at her sharply. She was the clever sort that picked up on things quickly, so she knew how to read him by now.
Arthur got the feeling that Eames would have liked that about her, only to feel like punching himself immediately after.
He was so very, very done with this.
---
Arthur wasn’t all that surprised when the busy streets of New York City unfurled around them after Dom had pressed down the button on the PASIV. He didn’t even react when Mal bumped her shoulder against his.
“Feeling homesick, Arthur?” At least this he was able to read, capable of hearing the hint of worry beneath the teasing tone.
“Perhaps,” was all Arthur would say. He knew that that hadn’t helped her worries at all by how her brow furrowed, but he really couldn’t help it. He did miss the city, after all, but at the same time being back there was rather like torture because of all the bits of
Eames that still lingered around the apartment. He hadn’t been able to bear the thought of throwing them away and he knew from
Eames that there would be no one to send them too anyway.
Mal turned away from him with a huff, dark curls bouncing off her shoulders. “I suppose we should go find Dom and Ariadne then.” She glanced at Arthur out of the corner of her eye before extending her arm.
Arthur managed half of a smile as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, which made her smile at least.
They didn’t attract much attention as they walked down the street, blending into the other smartly dressed people without even trying. It was something that Arthur liked since it meant that he got to take in as much of the scenery around them as he wanted (alright, so maybe he was more than a little home sick after all).
It meant that he didn’t even realize that something was wrong until he heard Mal gasp at his side and felt her nails digging into his arm.
His head snapped towards her immediately, body already tensing in preparation to go on the defense or offense depending on what was necessary. “What is it?” he asked. He raised his voice when Mal didn’t answer him immediately. “Mal, what is-”
“Nothing!” Mal rose her head to look at him, a too bright smile plastered to her face. “I just realized that we were going the wrong way. Dom is sure to have brought Ariadne to Central Park. You know how fond of it he is. So why don’t we just…”
She was babbling Arthur noticed, which was the first sign that something really was wrong. The next sign came when she tried to straight out drag him so that he would turn around to walk in the other direction.
Arthur planted his feet firmly on the ground ignoring Mal’s sharp hiss of, “Arthur!” to twist his body back to see what lay in wait for them on the street ahead.
Mal was actually clawing at his jacket now with both of her hands, sending a button flying free as she fought to gain enough leverage to turn him around. “Arthur, please, you don’t want to see it. Just turn back around. We need to go now. We really, really do. Arthur, please!”
But Arthur couldn’t hear her anymore because a strange sort of rushing noise had filled his ears, like the fierce rhythm of a waterfall but somehow even stronger.
Ariadne was standing at the end of the street with Dom, but she had stopped to talk to a projection. A projection that was making her laugh so much that she actually wound up tossing her head back while clutching at her sides.
And the projection was grinning at her with those beautiful, full lips that Arthur knew so well. The clothes were even the last ones that Arthur had seen on that day before Eames had headed off for that damn job, a suit that had very obviously come store brought from how it wasn’t tailored, straining against the broad shoulders and bulky chest. Arthur could remember going into a lecture while selecting one of his ties to go with it so that there could at least be something that looked good about it. He had been laughed at and kissed before being told…being told…
The projection was Eames. Eames. And he was standing at the end of the street as though he was just another harmless part of Arthur’s subconscious.
As Arthur watched Eames-no, no, the projection-lolled his head to the side, smile turning into a smirk when he saw who was watching. Arthur felt his stomach rolling at the same time his throat tightened when the projection winked at him and then its mouth was starting to form the words-the last words Eames had ever said to Arthur.
“I love you, my darling.”
Arthur was whipping out his gun, forcing it so hard into his mouth that he chipped a tooth and pulled the trigger before Mal could stop him.
---
Arthur woke up panting, out of breath, on the lawn chair not even a moment after, sweat rolling off every inch of his skin and turning it clammy. He was already ripping the canola out of his arm by the time the others woke up, relishing in the sting that came with it and paying no attention to the pinprick of blood that emerged.
“Arthur? Are you-”
Arthur batted Mal’s hand away when she tried to place it against his forehead, bursting up from his lawn chair. He didn’t stop until he was at his desk, shoving desperate fingers into his pocket until they curled around the cool, plastic feel of his dice. He tossed it down onto the desk so hard that it bounced, but it still came up on four. He rolled it again and then again and again, not able to feel any measure of comfort when it came up on the same number each time.
A ragged laugh escaped from him. Maybe he should be hoping that this was the dream instead. After all, if it were than he could still have Eames with him, couldn’t he? The forger wouldn’t be a dead body rotting away in some unknown place. He would be here, here with Arthur like he belonged.
He snatched the dice up from the table when he heard the others approaching. No one was suppose to see the trick that was a part of your totem, after all. That was the whole reason why you weren’t suppose to check it in front of people. Not that Arthur had had much of a choice in this matter.
“Arthur, is everything okay?” Arthur wasn’t sure if the fear in Dom’s voice came from having to approach him in such a state or the situation as a whole. “I know it seems bad now, but it’s not like-”
Arthur whirled around at that-he had to-while trying to ignore just how much it made his head spin to do so. “It’s not like what, Dom? Eames was there. Eames was there inside my fucking head!”
Dom, to his credit, didn’t flinch under the force of those words. “We don’t know anything for sure yet. This could just be a one time thing, you know? Maybe you just need to work on thinking about something else for a while.”
“I have been,” Arthur muttered. He had been trying so fucking hard, but it was as though everything in his life reminded him of Eames in some way whether large or small. It was like the man was as determined not to be blocked out in death as he had been in life.
He scrubbed a hand across his face. “Just… Just give me a chance to sort it out, okay? I promise to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“We can help you,” Mal said. “This isn’t something you have to face alone, Arthur.”
Arthur felt his throat tightening again and he had to blink rapidly so he wouldn’t wind up crying. “I know, I just want to try it on my own at first. If I can’t fix it then I promise to come to you.”
Mal regarded him for a long, drawn out minute, examining every bit of him that she could before striding forward to wrap her arms around him. “Alright, mon brave garçon. I only ask of you to be careful.”
Arthur swallowed thickly, knowing just what it was she meant without her having to say-“Don’t get lost in the dream and forget to live.”
“I will, Mal, I promise.” He gave her one tight squeeze before offering up what he could manage of a smile for Dom and Ariadne.
He was glad that no one else made any efforts to reassure him on his way out.
Rating: PG-13 for now
Warnings: Angst, Memory Alteration
Pairings/Characters: Arthur/Eames, OFC/Eames/OMC, Dom/Mal, Ariadne
Word Count: 2,469
Summary: A world where Mal isn't the one that Dom had tried inception on. And yet the consequences are still disastrous.
No matter how he fell asleep the night before Arthur always managed to wake up facing the empty side of his bed. It was as though he was unconsciously trying to search out his bed partner, somehow not being able to remember that that person hadn’t been there for years now.
But that wasn’t something that Arthur wanted to think about. Or at anytime, really, but that didn’t stop the memories from invading anyway.
Arthur pushed himself up from the bed with a sigh, directing his mind back to the routine instead. It was the best way of coping he had found so far, after all. Perhaps because having to focus on the details of it didn’t give his mind too much time to think about anything else.
And he hadn’t been working himself into the ground, despite anything Mal might say. He was pretty sure that he had been dragged into this whole arrangement in Paris so that she could force him into a respite of sorts. He had thought about complaining to her about it before thinking better. After all, if he got through this it would at least put her off his case for a little while.
If she tried to hook him up with someone, however, than he couldn’t promise that he would maintain his composure. It wasn’t like there were any shortage of people for him to pick up when he wanted someone to tumble into bed with in any part of the world that he traveled to.
There were times when he would wonder if one of his hook ups could turn into something more, if he could have someone to wake up with tender kisses and breakfast in bed before they had to start out on their day; together, always together. But the moment he would try to imagine it his mind would instantly be filled with memories of a bulky British man standing in his kitchen, pressing a mug of coffee into his hands with a brilliant smile before whispering, “Darling,” into a kiss pressed to the corner of Arthur’s mouth.
He couldn’t be that way with anyone else. And he knew he couldn’t because the only the one he wanted to be with like that was Eames.
But Eames was gone. Eames had been gone for five years.
---
The warehouse was already filled with its usual occupants by the time Arthur arrived, which made him frown. He tended to like to be the first one there so that he could prep the space in question to his standards, making sure that his teammates would have everything they needed on their selected desks by the time they came in. That was the job of a point man, after all, or at least the job of a good one.
“Am I late?” he asked as he approached the little circle of chairs. He arched a brow as their heads all whipped towards him almost as one.
Mal was the first to speak, of course, just like always. “Oh, no, Arthur, of course not!” She flashed him a smile, quick and gleaming. “We just wanted to get started a little early.”
Arthur wished that he knew some way of probing around her expression so that he could know whether she was telling the truth or not. It gave off all signs of being impenetrable, but there had to be a chink in it somewhere. Eames would have been able to find it in a heartbeat, would probably have leaned over to whisper it Arthur’s ear later with a grin...
Fuck.
Arthur took a deep breath, refocusing himself by directing himself towards Ariadne, the college student that this whole thing was focused around.
He would admit that he had had his reservations when Mal had called him to inform him of someone who was basically still just a kid and how she needed to be trained right away before anyone else had the chance to get their hands on her. The only thing that had convinced him to come out had been the fact that Mal’s father, Miles, had been the one who had vouched for the girl. Miles had been the one who had showed them all how to use the PASIV back when it was still for research purposes, so if he said that something was good when it came to the business Arthur tended to trust him.
Mal had made it pretty damn clear that she would fly out to New York City herself to drag him kicking and screaming to Paris if he tried to turn the offer down as well.
And after meeting Ariadne, Arthur found that he couldn’t really regret his decision to come. She was everything that Mal had promised and more. Arthur really didn’t think he had ever seen someone integrate themselves into the dream world that fast.
Well, except perhaps with Eames, but that had been with forging not architecture and he wasn’t suppose to be thinking about the man so that didn’t matter.
He offered her a small smile, unable to stop it from widening when she returned it at full force. “So whose head are we taking you into today?” he asked.
He should have known that he wasn’t going to like the answer when Ariadne’s smile dropped from her face and her eyes bounced anxiously from Dom to Mal to back again.
Dom leaned back in his chair with a sigh, rubbing a hand across his face. “We were thinking of going into yours, Arthur.” He shot Arthur a glance, brow crinkling slightly. “Is that, okay?”
The laugh Arthur let out in response to that question felt as brittle as it sounded. “Do I really have a choice in that?” He sighed, feeling a bit bad when Ariadne squirmed in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with the situation as a whole. “No, no, it’s fine. You need to get all the experience you can with different kinds of dreamscapes anyway, Ariadne.”
“If you’re sure…” Ariadne snapped her mouth shut the instant Arthur nodded at her sharply. She was the clever sort that picked up on things quickly, so she knew how to read him by now.
Arthur got the feeling that Eames would have liked that about her, only to feel like punching himself immediately after.
He was so very, very done with this.
---
Arthur wasn’t all that surprised when the busy streets of New York City unfurled around them after Dom had pressed down the button on the PASIV. He didn’t even react when Mal bumped her shoulder against his.
“Feeling homesick, Arthur?” At least this he was able to read, capable of hearing the hint of worry beneath the teasing tone.
“Perhaps,” was all Arthur would say. He knew that that hadn’t helped her worries at all by how her brow furrowed, but he really couldn’t help it. He did miss the city, after all, but at the same time being back there was rather like torture because of all the bits of
Eames that still lingered around the apartment. He hadn’t been able to bear the thought of throwing them away and he knew from
Eames that there would be no one to send them too anyway.
Mal turned away from him with a huff, dark curls bouncing off her shoulders. “I suppose we should go find Dom and Ariadne then.” She glanced at Arthur out of the corner of her eye before extending her arm.
Arthur managed half of a smile as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, which made her smile at least.
They didn’t attract much attention as they walked down the street, blending into the other smartly dressed people without even trying. It was something that Arthur liked since it meant that he got to take in as much of the scenery around them as he wanted (alright, so maybe he was more than a little home sick after all).
It meant that he didn’t even realize that something was wrong until he heard Mal gasp at his side and felt her nails digging into his arm.
His head snapped towards her immediately, body already tensing in preparation to go on the defense or offense depending on what was necessary. “What is it?” he asked. He raised his voice when Mal didn’t answer him immediately. “Mal, what is-”
“Nothing!” Mal rose her head to look at him, a too bright smile plastered to her face. “I just realized that we were going the wrong way. Dom is sure to have brought Ariadne to Central Park. You know how fond of it he is. So why don’t we just…”
She was babbling Arthur noticed, which was the first sign that something really was wrong. The next sign came when she tried to straight out drag him so that he would turn around to walk in the other direction.
Arthur planted his feet firmly on the ground ignoring Mal’s sharp hiss of, “Arthur!” to twist his body back to see what lay in wait for them on the street ahead.
Mal was actually clawing at his jacket now with both of her hands, sending a button flying free as she fought to gain enough leverage to turn him around. “Arthur, please, you don’t want to see it. Just turn back around. We need to go now. We really, really do. Arthur, please!”
But Arthur couldn’t hear her anymore because a strange sort of rushing noise had filled his ears, like the fierce rhythm of a waterfall but somehow even stronger.
Ariadne was standing at the end of the street with Dom, but she had stopped to talk to a projection. A projection that was making her laugh so much that she actually wound up tossing her head back while clutching at her sides.
And the projection was grinning at her with those beautiful, full lips that Arthur knew so well. The clothes were even the last ones that Arthur had seen on that day before Eames had headed off for that damn job, a suit that had very obviously come store brought from how it wasn’t tailored, straining against the broad shoulders and bulky chest. Arthur could remember going into a lecture while selecting one of his ties to go with it so that there could at least be something that looked good about it. He had been laughed at and kissed before being told…being told…
The projection was Eames. Eames. And he was standing at the end of the street as though he was just another harmless part of Arthur’s subconscious.
As Arthur watched Eames-no, no, the projection-lolled his head to the side, smile turning into a smirk when he saw who was watching. Arthur felt his stomach rolling at the same time his throat tightened when the projection winked at him and then its mouth was starting to form the words-the last words Eames had ever said to Arthur.
“I love you, my darling.”
Arthur was whipping out his gun, forcing it so hard into his mouth that he chipped a tooth and pulled the trigger before Mal could stop him.
---
Arthur woke up panting, out of breath, on the lawn chair not even a moment after, sweat rolling off every inch of his skin and turning it clammy. He was already ripping the canola out of his arm by the time the others woke up, relishing in the sting that came with it and paying no attention to the pinprick of blood that emerged.
“Arthur? Are you-”
Arthur batted Mal’s hand away when she tried to place it against his forehead, bursting up from his lawn chair. He didn’t stop until he was at his desk, shoving desperate fingers into his pocket until they curled around the cool, plastic feel of his dice. He tossed it down onto the desk so hard that it bounced, but it still came up on four. He rolled it again and then again and again, not able to feel any measure of comfort when it came up on the same number each time.
A ragged laugh escaped from him. Maybe he should be hoping that this was the dream instead. After all, if it were than he could still have Eames with him, couldn’t he? The forger wouldn’t be a dead body rotting away in some unknown place. He would be here, here with Arthur like he belonged.
He snatched the dice up from the table when he heard the others approaching. No one was suppose to see the trick that was a part of your totem, after all. That was the whole reason why you weren’t suppose to check it in front of people. Not that Arthur had had much of a choice in this matter.
“Arthur, is everything okay?” Arthur wasn’t sure if the fear in Dom’s voice came from having to approach him in such a state or the situation as a whole. “I know it seems bad now, but it’s not like-”
Arthur whirled around at that-he had to-while trying to ignore just how much it made his head spin to do so. “It’s not like what, Dom? Eames was there. Eames was there inside my fucking head!”
Dom, to his credit, didn’t flinch under the force of those words. “We don’t know anything for sure yet. This could just be a one time thing, you know? Maybe you just need to work on thinking about something else for a while.”
“I have been,” Arthur muttered. He had been trying so fucking hard, but it was as though everything in his life reminded him of Eames in some way whether large or small. It was like the man was as determined not to be blocked out in death as he had been in life.
He scrubbed a hand across his face. “Just… Just give me a chance to sort it out, okay? I promise to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“We can help you,” Mal said. “This isn’t something you have to face alone, Arthur.”
Arthur felt his throat tightening again and he had to blink rapidly so he wouldn’t wind up crying. “I know, I just want to try it on my own at first. If I can’t fix it then I promise to come to you.”
Mal regarded him for a long, drawn out minute, examining every bit of him that she could before striding forward to wrap her arms around him. “Alright, mon brave garçon. I only ask of you to be careful.”
Arthur swallowed thickly, knowing just what it was she meant without her having to say-“Don’t get lost in the dream and forget to live.”
“I will, Mal, I promise.” He gave her one tight squeeze before offering up what he could manage of a smile for Dom and Ariadne.
He was glad that no one else made any efforts to reassure him on his way out.