Funerals were an awful occasion. There were too many emotions gathered up in one area and too many unfamiliar faces to go with those twisting feelings.
Arthur didn't handle emotions well. He tried, always tried, to be the shoulder for everyone to cry on, but that's all he could ever offer- just a shoulder. Words were hidden, buried deep within his chest always getting caught when he tried to console.
God, he hated this. He hated this more than anything in the world right now.
He sat in the front row; the casket was just a few small feet away from him, but he couldn't look up. Instead, Arthur stared down at his warped reflection on his slick black shoes.
Two women were seated next to him. "He was never good for her. I knew it all along. There was something about that man that never settled well for me and now-" Her voice broke off as tears began to fill her eyes.
Arthur turned his head slightly to watch the two. The one who had just spoken looked too familiar to be a distant relative or a friend. No, Arthur could remember her from some time long ago like a faint memory from a happier time. She held a tissue to her eyes. They were large and dark. Just like a young doe's only a shade sadder. Exactly the way Mal's had been.
He'd miss her. Hell, he missed her already and the whole incident had only happened a couple days ago.
The same woman- Arthur had decided Mal's older sister- sniffled again, "There was just something in his eyes that-"
Arthur couldn't listen anymore. He hated all of the talk against Dom.
Anyone who thought he was the reason for Mal's death was clearly blind. The two had been infatuated with one another since the moment they had met.
He remembered when Mal had first mentioned Dom.
"Arthur, he's wonderful," she had said distantly, almost dreamily. "He's not like any man I have ever met before."
Arthur had only been half listening at the time. They were at a cafe. She was supposed to be helping him study for an exam. It's funny, though, how looking back he couldn't remember the subject of the test, only the wistful smile that adhered to Mal's lips.
"What does he do?" Arthur asked as he looked up from his textbook amused by the tone of her voice.
Mal's eyes shined with admiration. "He's working on becoming an architect. You should see his designs, Arthur! They are immaculate and intricate- absolute works of art."
Arthur smiled now, back in the present, as he remembered how much she adored him and how much Dom had equally adored her.
Arthur found himself walking to the back of the room, his eyes staying glued to the floor not wanting to make eye contact of any sort. He wasn't sure where he was going or for what reason.
There was no one at the back of the room to make him feel at ease. Dom, of course, wasn't there and neither were the kids. They were most likely at home playing with their grandmother still unaware of the changes in the household. Not realizing that their mom was gone or that they might never see their dad again. Arthur blinked quickly trying to erase the images of Phillipa and James' small questioning faces that began to fill his mind.
He understood that Dom needed to leave without any traces, but he could have let Arthur know. He could have given him some idea that was a little bit more descriptive than a grumbled, "Somewhere different."
If he really wanted to, Arthur could find him. It wouldn't take that long, Arthur was tired and Dom had promised they'd meet up eventually. And what he said, Arthur believed. Dom was the closest thing Arthur had to family now and he would do anything to keep that bit of normalcy in check.
Now, he stood at the back of the surprisingly small room just to the right of the doorway. Arthur leaned against the textured wall as casual as his upbringing would allow him and surveyed the room; his instincts taking over quickly looking for anyone he would possibly know and realized there wasn't. After all of his years of knowing Mal, these faces were no longer familiar to him and he was no longer familiar to any of them.
The actual ceremony was about to begin and Arthur was just about out the door, but his stomach twisted into a guilty knot. He couldn't leave Mal alone in this room of strangers even if it meant he was left to himself.
So he sat down again, awkwardly, in an empty chair at the back of the room and waited for the ceremony to be over with.
A silver haired man came up to the podium near the casket and began speaking in French.
Arthur knew the language, but he didn't feel like concentrating at the moment. He let his attention drift in and out- hearing the words more than listening, enjoying the sound of the fluent accent filling the room.
A slight movement to his left brought Arthur back. He found a slightly embarrassed Eames sliding into the seat next to him.
"I'm late," he said as quietly as his raspy English voice would allow him.
Arthur nodded, "You're here, though." Which was a lot more than he expected.
Eames nodded solemnly. It was unlike him to be this quiet and thoughtful.
"You alright?" he asked Arthur after a couple minutes. There wasn't a hint of sarcasm or condescension in his voice, just true feeling.
"Fine," he said flatly.
"Arthur, I'll miss her, too, you know."
Arthur let out a long breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. Eames speaking about Mal in such endearing tones made his chest tighten. Happy memories of the four of them- Eames, Mal, Dom, and Arthur- flooded his mind and he couldn't help but smile.
"What is it?" Eames had moved closer to Arthur hoping to keep his voice as low as possible.
All Arthur could do though was smile and shake his head. He didn't want to linger on the subject, but Eames nudged him in the side.
"It's nothing," Arthur insisted quietly, hesitated, but then went on. "You remember the way she'd always scold us for bickering? She'd get that cross look in her eyes and just stare us down-"
"Till she finally just turned away shaking her head at us- yeah, I remember." Eames let out a long sigh the faint smell of cigarette lingering on his breath.
It had been years since Eames had last had a cigarette. He insisted he only smoked before a job to keep his nerves at bay. No one believed him because they knew him. Smoking was just a habit he had managed to collect along with the drinking, the swearing, and the hideous way he dressed. Smoking was a habit he had managed to quit, though, but that was only due to Mal's persistence in the situation.
"With what we do for a living, Eames, lung cancer is a stupid way to die," she would say sternly.
But then her expression would change to something sweet and she made sure their eyes met. "We need you around." She'd place a small comforting hand on his shoulder, lingering long enough for Eames to realize someone really did care about him.
If the situation were different Arthur would be making some snide, reprimanding remark, but decided to keep quiet.
It was a weird scene, the two of them sitting quietly together in the back of a small church surrounded by foreign faces.
"Eames," Arthur began quietly, "I miss her."
"Me too, mate."
Arthur couldn't handle emotions well. Neither could Eames, but they managed.
A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed it.
As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!
Thank you to SevenShades and my new friend Sandra for doing the beta on this!