I Want To Hold Your Hand
Summary: Arthur knew that if he were to die, he'd want to die holding Eames' hand.
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Note: I don't own Inception. This was done for an inception_kink prompt.
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"You won't be lonely without me, will you?" Eames' voice was soft, lips brushing against the nape of Arthur's neck.
The point man smiled, feeling the forger's arms circling around his waist, "I doubt I will."
"I don't think I've ever seen you act as the lookout," the other man said, smiling now, pressing kisses just below Arthur's ear.
"I'll keep a close eye on you, Mr. Eames. I promise."
"I bet you will."
Then Arthur was rolling his eyes and pulling out of the forger's grasp, yet smiling all the same as he went back to looking over the files he had spread before him.
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Arthur's fingers were gentle as he carefully inserted the needles into his teammates' wrists. They were all situated in a circle, their mark already heavily sedated and under. Cobb had a place right next to the mark, breathing easily as he sat back in his chair. They had an older architect with them, looking ready and enthused, though the job was supposed to be easy. Then there was Eames, smirking and holding out his wrist for the point man.
"Behave yourself in there," Arthur said with a smirk of his own as he took hold of the forger's wrist, inserting the needle with precision.
"I'm not making any promises," Eames' grin turned to a smile, his fingers lightly gripping the other man's before letting go.
The point man gave everyone a once over before approaching the PASIV and pressing the button in the middle. The machine gave the telltale hiss of sedatives being injected and Arthur watched as those around him fell into a chemical induced sleep. He nodded to himself before pulling up a chair. His eyes focused on the timer, which had started to count down from an hour.
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"This is some dream," Eames said with an impressed whistle.
The space they occupied was absolutely breath taking. There was a city, large and distinct spread out before them, skyscrapers reaching so high they threatened to touch the sky. Beyond the city there was a horizon filled with tall, majestic trees. The finishing touch was the snow peaked mountains in the distance, looking as if they popped straight out of a painting.
The forger found himself wishing Arthur could see the sight. It was beautiful and positively romantic.
"Come on, the mark will be moving toward the center of the city," Cobb instructed, his voice calm and filled with confidence, "I want to catch him before he gets distracted by this place."
Eames followed wordlessly, looking around at their architect's handiwork. The man was well into his early fifties, hair graying and thinning. The man's name was Roger and the forger couldn't picture a more fitting name. The architect was practically on his last leg of the dream sharing business and looked it.
"So you and Arthur?" Roger asked as they made their way down busy streets.
"What about it?" Eames answer was cool and casual, not wanting to be fazed.
"I just thought it was interesting," the older man said with a smile, "Knowing you two, I don't think anyone ever expected it to happen."
"Well, you know what they say. Opposites attract."
"That they do."
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Arthur slowly went from one person to the next, checking their vitals and noting any changes he found. Things were running smoothly and he was glad there were no signs of trouble. The sedative had been strong, but stable and that had been the selling point when Yusuf pitched it to them.
The point man's eyes fell on the forger, looking peaceful as anything. Arthur smiled to himself as he approached the other man and gently brushed a strand of hair out of Eames' face. It was so rare that he got a chance to watch over his lover, not one for forsaking action, and that face offered him no regrets from being the lookout for once, even if he was bored out of his mind.
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"The mark looks bored," Roger said with a concerned look, "You think you should help Cobb out with your little blonde number?"
"I think he's handling it fine," Eames answered, watching as the extractor conversed with the mark easily. "Give him a little bit to work his magic."
The mark was a middle aged man, working for a large company, and suspected of embezzling money. The amount that had been taken numbered in the millions and it was their job to find out whether or not this man was the one behind it. Technically, it should have been easy, but the mark had a lot more secrets than they had expected. The most shocking, and yet not surprising, one was that the man had a thing for barely legal women. He liked taking control and using them. Cobb was trying to convince the mark that there was a special place for those types of desires.
Roger's words did cause Eames to grow concerned. He kept watching, wondering if it would be the right time to step out of the shadows. Then the mark was laughing and clapping a hand on Cobb's back, acting as if they had been buddies forever. The forger relaxed, everything was going to be alright.
How are you doing up there, darling? Eames wondered, moving his totem from finger to finger.
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As Arthur checked the mark's vitals, he heard the sound of footsteps. He looked up, his eyes on the door. Shit! He berated himself, he hadn't locked the door after he put everyone under. How the hell can you forget that detail? You ass!
Then the door was swinging open and a woman, mid thirties, tall and wearing a pinstriped pants suit wanted through the door. In her hand was a Beretta 92 FS, her nails were manicured and on her lips was a wicked smile. She stood at the ready, assessing the situation. Arthur knew he was in for trouble. Those sleeping around him were open targets.
"I suggest you wake them and hand the mark to me," the woman said, her voice raspy and low.
"Why would I do that?" the point man asked, keeping his voice steady, his hand already on his own weapon.
"That man is my employer. You managed to get him out from under me. Now I want him back."
"You're not very good at what you do if you can't keep an eye on him."
The woman snarled and raised her weapon, "You'll regret saying that."
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The sky above them rumbled momentarily. Cobb looked up from what he was doing, confusion playing across his features. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and yet that sound was very much like thunder.
"Must have been a plane," the mark said with an easy shrug.
"Must have been," the extractor replied, drawing his lips into a smile, "Let's keep moving."
"Of course. Of course."
As they approached the central building of the city, Cobb's eyes scanned the crowd. He saw his teammates not far from his vicinity and gave them a knowing look. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't tell what it was. Roger, you had better not designed this place to have spontaneous weather changes.
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Arthur could hear himself screaming as he fell to the ground, the pain blooming across his chest and radiating through his body. The only satisfaction he got was the fact that the woman was also screaming, cursing as she slumped against the wall, clutching at her wounded neck. He had missed, but it was still a fatal wound. He braced himself and pushed himself to his knees before taking aim. She saw him before he could pull the trigger.
Two gunshots rang out. Arthur crumpled into a heap on the floor, feeling the second bullet lodging itself in his abdomen. The woman across the room was no longer screaming and cursing. His bullet met the mark, getting her right between the eyes.
"Oh god," he whispered to himself through gritted teeth, "How fucking stupid!"
The point man pushed himself onto his back, wincing at the movement. His hands automatically reached for his wounds, gingerly touching them. He hissed in pain as his fingers made contact. It was real, he had been shot.
"Fuck," he swore, closing his eyes and trying to breathe deep. This wasn't supposed to happen.
He slowly opened his eyes and focused them on the man next to him, Eames, who was still seated comfortably in his chair, completely oblivious to what was happening.
"She tried t-to take a shot at you," Arthur said, reaching out his bloodied hand to take the forger's, "But I… I took care of her. T-Told you I'd… I'd keep an eye on you."
His fingers were slippery with blood, but he held onto Eames' hand, knowing that there was twenty minutes left on the timer. He held on tight, even as the loss of blood started to make him lightheaded. He knew that if he were to die in that instant, he would want to be holding his lover's hand.
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Eames looked up from the mirror he had been staring at, trying to perfect his forge. His hand was tingling. He took a moment to run his thumb over his fingers, smiling to himself. He knew it had to be Arthur. Can't keep the sappiness to yourself, can you? Eames thought as he focused his attention back on the mirror, changing and shifting is appearance.
His hair was long and blonde. His figure was super model thin with legs from here to tomorrow. He had to admit, it was one of his better forgers. He had had a lot of blonde looks to fall back on, but this one, he was sure even Arthur would like. He gave a soft laugh, pushing his hair back as he got out of his seat and prepared to play his part. All the while, his hand felt warm and wonderful.
"I want to see you too, darling," the forger said, knowing the point man couldn't hear him, "The kick can't come soon enough."
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The timer was still counting down with less than three minutes left. It felt like an eternity and Arthur could feel himself slipping from consciousness. Yet his fingers kept a firm grip on Eames.
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"Go! Go! Go!" Cobb was yelling with his hands over his head as bullets fractured everything around them.
They were running, the projections on their tail. The extractor was scanning feverishly through the documents in his hands as he ran, taking in every single detail. Eames swore under his breath as he ran backwards and aimed his submachine gun at the onslaught of projections. He fired, raining ammunition into the crowd.
"I got it!" the extractor yelled.
"Good!" Roger called back, reloading his own guns, "I'm too fucking old for this shit!"
"Someone better start shooting cause we still have time on the clock!" Eames said through the noise of machinegun fire.
The only thing he hadn't expected was to be shot first.
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Eames felt the pressure on his hand before he even opened his eyes. He would have smiled save for the fact that something felt very off. His eyes opened and he looked down at his hand, caked with blood, holding onto Arthur's, who was lying on the floor, bleeding.
"Arthur!" Cobb's voice was filled with panic.
The forger couldn't even bring himself to move, sitting there gripping his lover's hand in his. Then Roger was shoving him away, telling him he needed to get up and start making calls. Hospitals were out if the question, but there were other options in the area.
"Eames!" Roger was shaking him, taking his focus away from the point man, "He's still alive, but if you don't make that phone call, he won't last!"
Then Eames was pulling out his phone, calling every medical contact he had, hoping one of them would be able to make it.
"Stay with me," the forger heard Cobb saying. One of the extractor's hands was pressing on wound on Arthur's chest, trying to stem the flow of blood. The other was on the younger man's face, holding with such care that Eames felt his chest tightening painfully. "Stay with me."
"Eames?" the voice on the other line was in his ear, concern and worry so clear it hurt.
"Please, just save him!"
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"He's lucky to be alive," Monroe, the doctor Eames had managed to call, said as he packed up his things. "If he makes it through the next couple of days, he'll be fine."
The hotel room was a mess. Arthur's clothes had been cut away from his body to reveal the wounds he received. Bloodied gauze and linen cloth littered the floor. Cobb sat in the far corner of the room, brooding, his eyes occasionally going to the point man, lying on the bed. Bandages were wrapped around Arthur's chest and abdomen, spots of blood already seeping through.
"You're going to have to change those bandages regularly," Monroe said, zipping up his bag, "I left some painkillers for when he wakes up. I gave him an extra dose of morphine, but it'll wear off soon."
"Thank you," Cobb said from his corner, "You have no idea how much this means to us."
The doctor simply nodded before walking out the door, Eames watching after him until the door clicked close. The forger set his eyes on Arthur, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of his lover looking so fragile.
"Can I have a moment?" Eames asked, looking over at the extractor.
Cobb sighed, pushing himself up from his seat and raking a hand through his hair, "If he wakes up, you better get me or I'll break your face."
In any other give situation, the forger would have laughed, but instead he simply nodded his head and waited until he heard Cobb leave the room. Then he was turning and approaching the bed, carefully sitting on the edge of it. He trailed his hand along Arthur's exposed arm, touching the cool skin meeting his fingertips. His chest ached terribly.
"Remember that one night we were out?" Eames asked, taking the point man's hand into his own, "We went to some movie I'd never heard of before and I did it because you told me you loved The Beatles. What was that movie? Across the Universe?"
The forger laughed a little, gripping his lovers hand tightly, "You said if there was one song you'd make ours… do you remember?"
There was a moment of silence as Eames tried to steady his breathing, tears pricking his eyes at the thought that he might lose the one he loved. He tried to remember that song that Arthur liked so much, the one they listened to when the point man finally started openly showing his affection.
"Yeah, I'll tell you something," his voice trembled as he tried to remember the words, "I think you'll understand. When I say that something, I want to hold your hand."
He tried to grasp the words, but they escaped him. He laughed at himself, not knowing what else to do. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, feeling the tears streaming down his face, steadily dripping onto the sheets below. Taking a deep breath, Eames decided it was time to let go of his lover and let the point man rest in peace.
As he tried to withdraw his hand, he found the grip around his fingers tightening, as if holding him in place. Eames looked up at Arthur's face, whose expression was unchanged. Yet the other man was holding onto him, refusing to let go.
"I'm not going anywhere, darling," Eames smiled, pulling Arthur's hand to his lips and kissing the other man's knuckles, "I'm right here."
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Note: The end! I know that was sappy! I hope you enjoyed and please let me know what you think! If there are any mistakes, let me know. They will be fixed.