This is just a little fanfic on Cobb and his kids :) its not great, but leave a review and tell me what you think ;)
Hope you like it x x x
My heart thumped in my chest. A wave of apprehension and desperation threatened to break through my mask of calm.
I glanced around to see Arthur, Ariadne, Eames, Saito and Yusuf at the conveyer belt collecting their bags. I gave Arthur a departing nod, and pulled my suitcase over to the security stewards.
I tried to suppress the ragged breath of anticipation. The steward merely glanced at me whilst scanning my passport.
"Welcome to L.A, Mr. Cobb." He nodded. I grinned; the relief that was obvious in my brows smoothed my etched face. I walked down the final aisle; my footsteps sounded like a drumbeat. They were echoed only by themselves, and their beat could've gone on forever, just a soft, rhythmic thump.
But I came to the end of the aisle, and there was a huge, blinding light from the adjoining room. I took one glance backwards; it seemed so much darker there. I could make out the rest of the team doing the same as me. I smiled, and continued walking.
"Miles," I whispered. There stood the lean figure of my father in law; his face was carved into many different lines; mostly from worrying, grieving, and working. Like everyone else in the world.
"Cobb, my man," He patted my back and smiled; his eyes crinkled in affection when he smiled. "Let's go, shall we?"
"Yes. Let's." My voice was clam and polite.
I sat in his old Merc; my fingers gripped the soft, worn leather of the interior. The fields and trees of L.A passed the car too slowly. I could see the birds gliding through the air, and land onto benches. Old men and women sat feeding them. Their eyes were sagged with age and love; one particular couple held hands, and their raisin like faces rested against each other.
A lump of jealousy formed in my throat. Mal and I had grown old together, but she would never be there to watch our children grow up, or to play with our grandchildren. I tried not to think of that, only to remember my children's faces.
An evening dusk was approaching. And very soon, it took over the dying sun; it was the colour of honey. The whole city was covered in a honey like, golden light. It glowed and pulsed beneath us, but most didn't notice it. Yet, if you look hard enough, you can feel the energy of the sun underneath your skin, you can feel its rays humming through each person.
I was relatively calm for the moment, as I could feel the last of the energy shining into my face.
"Cobb, you're not asleep, are you?" Miles interrupted my meditation. My eyelids snapped open. The moment of pure nothingness had been lost.
"No, I'm fine, thanks Miles." I smiled wanly.
"Ok, well we're here." He spoke quieter. I stared at the house where Mal and I had made our beautiful family, and the house where it was also crushed into thousands of splinters. I opened the door and dragged my suitcase with me.
"They're out here." Miles gestured to the back door. I sighed, and smelt the familiar scent of Mal and home.
With a perfectly calm hand, I took out my totem and spun it on the mahogany table. I watched spin, and spin, and spin. A new feeling came over: I didn't care. All I wanted right now was to see my children, and I didn't want to see my totem spin and never stop. I left it to itself, and went outside.
"Daddy!" They both cried. Their faces were so much more beautiful than I ever gave them credit for; Philippa's eyes were wide and blue, her blonde hair reached her waist. James' mop of hair was covered in mud, and his eyes were wet with tears. Their little cheeks were flushed from the sun, and as taut and plump as apples.
A father's love for their children should never be deprived. Both sides get a win-win; the children get to hug their father, to feel safe and protected. And the father gets to stroke their daughter's hair and kiss her sweet cheek, throw their son into a giant bear hug and never want to let go of your cherub.
So why should that ever be left dormant for so long as that both sides are confused and heartbroken?
An overwhelming feeling of love and devotion overcame every stressful nerve in my body. The last of the sun's warmth brushed our hair into tendrils and welded our embracing selves into a ray of happiness and content. My children's tears were wiped away with my hand, and they thanked me by smiling and laughing.
They thanked me, by breathing and living.