Disclaimer: Nope, don't own.
Arthur plans everything. Cobb certainly can't be expected to plan the funeral, not in the state he's in. So Arthur calls up the funeral homes, calls up the relatives and friends and makes sure everything is perfect because Mal deserves no less.
Arthur looks after the children. James is too young to understand what has happened but Phillipa cries and cries until she wears herself out and falls asleep. Arthur holds them close and tells them that it will be okay and that someday it will hurt less and that daddy will be home soon. They watch movies and play games and over the course of the week, Arthur feels more domestic than he has in his entire life.
He orders bouquets of roses and lilies because Mal liked them best. Cobb won't meet his eyes when he tells him this. He just nods listlessly, brokenly and goes back to staring out the window of the second floor. Arthur wonders what he sees when he looks out of it. He has a feeling that he knows what he sees.
The morning of, the sky is grey and threatening to unleash torrents of rain upon them. Arthur decides that it is fitting.
He helps James and Phillipa into their best clothes, even goes as far to braid Phillipa's hair the way Mal used to and then they're off. The ride is quiet, broken only by James quiet monologue in the back seat as he plays with his toys.
They have visitation. The casket remains closed. Arthur stands firmly by Cobb's side, shakes hands and makes small talk and tries to encourage the other man to do the same. Arthur's gaze bounces around the crowd but time passes and he doesn't see the one person he's looking for.
At two o'clock they gather around the casket. A light drizzle has started and a few bring out umbrellas in a vane attempt to keep dry. Arthur ignores the rain, holds James hand and listens as Cobb steps forwards, says a few words, thanks them all for coming and places a red rose on the casket. The words fall flat, Arthur had known they would when he had handed Cobb the cue cards.
One by one mourners step forwards and place flowers on the casket, saying their goodbyes.
Arthur takes a breath and squares his shoulders. He steps forwards and places his rose reverently on the smooth surface; helps James and then Phillipa do the same. There are tears trailing down Phillipa's face and James seems to realize that something is wrong and begins to wail, loud and piercing.
And then Cobb is there and his gaze that had been so intently focused on the window now holds that same intensity but focused on his children, as though just realizing how much they need him. How much they need each other. He scoops up James, holds him in one arm and holds Phillipa's hand with the other.
And then they're gone with barely a nod at Arthur.
And Arthur. Arthur just stands there.
Because he no longer has anything to focus on; no longer has any distractions. And as people file away one by one or in small groups, Arthur is left standing next to the fresh grave unsure of what to do.
The rain starts to fall harder. His suit clings to him, uncomfortable. It runs down his face, past his eyes, down his cheeks, off his chin. A shudder goes through him. The rain feels warm on his cheeks and it stings his eyes.
He wipes a hand over his face, distracted and realizes he's crying. Oh, he thinks.
"Love." Hands land on his shoulders, gently turning him and pulling him in until he's held protectively in strong arms. Part of him hates how weak he feels. "I am so sorry." Eames presses a kiss against his temple, against his cheek, against his nose. It's ridiculous and sentimental and he absolutely loves it.
"You're late." Arthur presses his face into Eames' neck, feels his pulse, and feels the warmth radiating from him.
"I know," Eames runs a hand up and down his back, soothing. Arthur's eyes flutter shut and some of the tension begins to seep out of his shoulders. "I couldn't get an earlier flight."
And it's okay, really, because Eames is there now and Arthur doesn't have to do it all on his own anymore. He wraps his arms tighter around the other man just to remind himself that he's there. That there isn't another grave waiting for him; Arthur feels like he's been torn to pieces by the loss of his friend, but losing Eames would kill him. He has to stay strong for Cobb. But maybe not as much when it's just him and Eames.
"Let's go home." Eames murmurs into his hair and pulls back. Arthur panics, reaches out and latches onto his hand like a lifeline. He feels scared, feels small and still can't wrap his mind around the fact that she is gone, that he'll never hear her laugh again or smell her perfume or see her smile.
But there's understanding in Eames' eyes, like he knows exactly how Arthur feels, like he feels the same but he's holding it inside so he can be strong for Arthur. He squeezes Arthur's hand and leads him away from the grave, away from the funeral home and into their car. And as they're driving home he keeps his hold on Arthur's hand as if to say, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere.