Disclaimer: I own nothing, nor do I intend on infringing upon other's rights. And I don't know any of the real people in the story nor do I intend to offend anyone.
Warning: Spoilers for the movie, violence, drinking, swearing, character death.
AN: unbetaed. Written on a whim. Italics are dreams.
"No! Don't touch him, don't you touch him. Get away from him!"
He jolts awake on the couch in his living room. He thinks he might have dreamed last night...but that's not possible. He has stopped using the PASIV because of...something, he can't quite put his finger on it right now but it was something. His head hurts a bit when he tries to pin down what it was that made him stop, so he lets the reason slip away from his tenuous grasp. The reason probably doesn't matter so much. It's the fact that he thinks he dreamed last night without the PASIV that is giving him trouble.
He gets up and heads to the kitchen to pour himself something alcoholic, doesn't matter what it is so long as it's strong. He doesn't know why he needs it...he just does. He passes the answering machine on his way to get a glass in which to pour the rum he has found. He sees that he has four messages, sighs, and hits the button to play them.
He has the glass of rum in hand by the time his machine starts playing the messages. He takes large gulps as he listens.
"Dom, I'm in a bit of trouble. I'm sure I can get out of it, but could you find out if Cobol's price on me was for dead or alive? Thanks." Click.
The message is from Arthur. He notes the time and date as two in the morning on Monday. It's Friday, this means he has to make some calls and call back his point man soon. He isn't sure why he hasn't checked his messages before now... He shakes his head and makes a mental note to do as Arthur asked even though the trouble has probably already been resolved (most likely with Arthur kicking some asses).
The second message is from his father in law. "Dom, I don't know if you remember but I took the children to my house for the time being. I don't think they should be around you right now. I took the liberty of doing most of the planning for you...I know you're having a rough time of it. I hope you've managed to come back-" Here, the phone gets pulled away from the speaker's mouth but he can hear the muffled words all the same, "No, I'm not on the phone with Dom, it's another one of those telemarketers, dear. I was just telling him I didn't want to buy a subscription for magazines." Click.
He knows he should be more worried that his father-in-law has taken the kids, but at least their somewhere safe. He stops for a moment, safe from what? Why did Miles take the kids? He shakes his head to rid himself of these thoughts. His children are away...no wonder it's so quiet. This must be the reason he is feeling so off today.
"Hey, Cobb. It's Ariadne." He smiles at the sound of her voice. "I just wanted to say that...that I think you should talk about this before it turns into something like what happened with Mal. And if you can't talk about it with me...than maybe one of the others. Eames? Or Yusuf maybe... Anyways, I'm worried about you. I'll be in town for..." He narrows his eyes when he hears her sobbing. "I'll stop by when I get there, alright? Take care of yourself." Click.
He stares at the message machine for a second in confusion. "What was that?"
The last message leaves him even more concerned, because it's from Saito. He hasn't spoken with Saito since the Fischer Inception that took place years ago. "I have heard from our former associates of this troubling occurrence. I wish to offer my most sincere apologies. If I can be of any assistance, do not hesitate to contact me." Click.
He shakes his head at the message before downing the rest of his rum. He is definitely missing something here.
He tries to ignore the strangeness of what happened before, and does a bit of digging around about the hit out on Arthur. He finds out that Arthur is worth more dead than alive. It shouldn't really surprise him. Yet, he is also aware that he himself is worth more alive than dead, which makes him wonder just what Nash (that lousy architect) told Cobol before outliving whatever usefulness Nash might have had (and is it spiteful or wrong to think that Nash had done so long before Cobol Engineering ever got their hands on the guy?).
He suspects that Arthur is already aware that Cobol wants the point man dead and probably only called to ask so that he would be alerted to it as well. Yet, he calls Arthur's cell phone anyways. The phone just rings and rings until Arthur's prerecorded 'This is Arthur. Leave a detailed message' kicks in. He says, "Hey, apparently you're worth more dead than alive." Pause. "Do you know why everyone's been acting weird? Give me a call."
He hangs up feeling a bit better about the day he's been having, but still settles back onto the couch with the bottle of rum. Why shouldn't he indulge himself in a little bit to drink? His kids are with their grandparents. No one's around to look at him in disapproval. No Mal, no Arthur to tell him he drinks too much. He falls asleep after finishing off the bottle.
He sees Arthur being held by Saito's men. Arthur is bleeding from the leg wound Mal just inflicted. He leaps and slides across the table to his gun and fires a single bullet through Arthur's head. Arthur's body collapses, and in the dream he's close enough to feel the spray of blood hit him in the face and see the life leave his friend's eyes. One minute Arthur's there, and the next...gone.
He startles awake with the distinct feeling that he has just suffered through a bad dream. He fuzzily tries to recall what exactly it was about but his head hurts (probably from all the rum he drank last night) and he can't focus.
He takes a shower to try and relieve the tension and pain running through his body and discovers a diagonal bruise running from his shoulder to chest. It's strange...it didn't even hurt until he thought about it. He tries to think of how he possibly could have got the bruise but quickly abandons that in favor of ducking his aching head under the shower spray. Must have fallen off the couch onto the coffee table in his sleep. Where else would he have gotten it?
He throws his clothes on over his wet body and heads to the kitchen. He begins making breakfast for three before remembering that his children are at Miles' house. So he eats what he can and picks up the phone. He dials Arthur's cellphone number more out of habit than any real desire to talk to the man, and listens to the ringing that comes before 'This is Arthur. Leave a detailed message.'
He says, "Hey, it's me. Answer your phone once in a while, Arthur. Anyways, I'm calling to make sure you're still alive and everything. You have me concerned after that call on Monday. Call me."
As he is pouring himself a cup of coffee, the phone rings. He doesn't move. Ariadne's voice echoes in the kitchen.
"Cobb, it's Saturday and no one has heard from you. I'll be in the L.A. early tomorrow. I know you're probably busy with...everything, but call someone and let us know you're doing...as well as you can be, alright?" Pause. "I will keep calling you until you do as I tell you, you know. So you might as well just do it now and save us both the trouble." Click.
He frowns, squinting at the answering machine. "What is going on with her?"
He shakes off his disquiet before heading for the couch and turning on the television. Maybe Ariadne is having that time of month or something...
A sound comes from the front door. He looks up partway through some movie about a man experiencing amnesia, and turns the volume down so he can listen closely for another noise. The doorbell is ringing. He walks over to the door, carefully pulling out a baseball bat from the umbrella stand near the door, and looking through the peephole. There is a middle aged man outside the door holding a large floral arrangement. He sighs and opens the door with the hand not holding the baseball bat out of sight.
"Can I help you?"
The man smiles widely, "Are you Dominic Cobb?"
"Yes."
"These are for you."
'These' are marigold and...adonis flowers held in an ornate crystal vase.
"Thank you..." He looks at the man's pink shirt for a name tag. "'Dan: the flowerman'...Is there a card?"
"Nope." The man frowns a bit before brightening, "Hey, did anyone die recently?"
His mind automatically flashes to Mal, but she died a long time ago. His squints at the man.
Dan starts to look less happy as if suddenly realizing that a death is not something pleasant. Either that or Dan is disconcerted by his squinting.
He finally says, "No deaths. Why?"
"Oh, these flowers mean grief and sorrowful remembrance."
Eyebrow raise. "Weird. Are you sure?"
"Yes, sir." Dan almost looks offended by his question.
He squints again, this time at the mysterious flowers. "Huh."
"Anyways, I've got a lot of deliveries to make, Mr. Cobb." Awkward cough. "So I'll just uh..."
Nod. "Sure, go." He is busy staring down the vase full of flowers trying to figure out why they were sent to him. When he looks up again, Dan is gone, it's dark outside, and he has a headache from squinting for so long. He goes to set down the flowers and finds that the bottom of the vase has an S engraved into it. Well, that's one mystery solved. Saito sent the flowers.
He goes to the kitchen to make himself some mac and cheese. The light on his answer machine says he has messages. He hits the button and searches around in the fridge for the butter.
"You haven't answered your phone at all since it happened, I've left you two messages and I'm worried for you. You need to call me. Now. Okay?" Click.
The next message begins to play. Eames' voice echoes in the kitchen, "Cobb, Ariadne is concerned that you're not answering the phone. Call the girl back before she shows up on your doorstep frothing at the mouth. I may not be able to stop her if you don't. Seriously, call her." Click.
"Look, if you don't pick up the phone, I'm going to-" Pause. "No I'm not being too uptight. He needs to answer the damn phone! For all we know he could be in trouble...Shut up Eames." Ariadne raises her voice to be heard over the laughing in the back round, "Cobb, I'm telling you. You need to answer your phone. I called Miles and he said he has your kids. He wouldn't tell me much except that he's concerned your going the way of Mal. Call me, or I will not be held responsible for what happens ne-"
He quickly hits the delete button on the message machine. Ariadne's voice is making his temples throb.
"Cobb, I know you're feeling-"
Ariadne again. He hits the button.
"I just don't know, maybe Arthur would-"
He hits the delete button again and keeps his finger hovering over it just in case. The machine is silent. He sighs in relief before heading over to finish making his macaroni and cheese. His headache is now worse than before, and he needs to eat in order to pop a high strength pain pill.
He doesn't bother with a plate. He takes the pan full of pasta over to the couch and mechanically begins to shovel spoonfuls into his mouth. Three quarters of the way through his meal, the phone rings. He stills. The answering machine picks up the call. He doesn't breathe. He is expecting Ariadne, and why not-she's only left half a dozen other messages.
"..." Click.
He starts to relax as the person hangs up. He hopes the lack of a message means that Ariadne has given up, but he suspects she will show up on his doorstep early tomorrow morning. God, he had forgotten how nosey she could be. He goes to the bathroom to get his pain medicine. His appetite is ruined for now.
He stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror for a long moment before sighing and popping one of the high powered pain pills. He has to scoop a handful of tap water into his mouth to wash it down when it gets caught in his throat and nearly chokes him. The pill leaves a bitter, disgusting flavor in his mouth. God, he hates the aftertaste. He squishes and gurgles with minty mouthwash before heading into his bedroom. The clock on his bedside table says that it's a quarter past two in the morning. He rubs his tired eyes and climbs into bed.
He is in a car. Ariadne is seated beside him. It is the first level of dreaming during the Fischer Inception job. They are driving along nicely when they get stopped short by a freight train. A black SUV slams into them from behind. He looks over to his right and Arthur is sitting where Ariadne was seated previously.
"Arthur?"
"We have to get out of here."
He undoes his seatbelt with a wince and grabs his gun, "Right. We'll lay down cover fire as we go."
Nod.
The world blurs for a moment.
He looks up to find himself standing in front of Miles.
"What?"
Miles says, "Dom. I know that this is a difficult time for you, but there are some decisions that have to be made..."
"I don't care. I just...what was the question?"
Miles sighs. "I'm taking the kids for a while, don't try to argue. It's probably safer for them anyways."
"I did everything I could to get back to them, not so they could be taken away from me!"
"Dom, come back to reality...before you lose the children forever."
He can see his children's faces as they are carried away from him.
He wakes up with tears in his eyes and lingering regret. He knows what woke him when he hears a loud banging coming from the other room. He sighs and puts the pillow over his head. It must be Ariadne.
The doorbell begins to ring every few seconds. He holds out for as long as he can before giving up on sleep. He reluctantly climbs out of bed. He toes on his slippers because it's freezing cold, it's early, and he deserves the goddamn comfort, alright?
"Coming, I'm coming." He mutters as he heads towards the incessant ringing.
He throws open the door to see-not Ariadne, like he expected, but Eames. He should have known...only Eames would ring a doorbell that annoyingly at this hour of the morning. Ariadne would have just broken in.
He squints angrily at the man. "What do you want?"
"Well there's gratitude for you!" Eames gestures grandly. "I just barely managed to keep Ariadne from coming here to give you a piece of her mind, and this is the welcome I get?"
"Eames."
Eames sobers. "I'm here to check on your status, and also to help prepare you for...later. Ariadne's orders."
"You know what?" He turns his back on Eames. "I'm going back to bed until this makes sense. Goodnight."
"Do you at least own a tux? Or a black suit?"
"Just the one I wore to Mal's funeral, why?"
"That'll do."
"Okaaaay. I'm leaving now. Don't break any of my stuff." He ducks his head back around the corner to narrow his eyes at the other man. "And don't steal anything either."
Eames raises both hands in the air and shrugs.
He yawns and nods his head before heading into his bedroom to go back to bed. He is asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.
He opens his eyes to the painful bright light before shutting them once more. There is an IV in his wrist. There are people moving around. He is restrained to the bed. He can't get free. The world is under the hazy film of drugs. Everything is distant, muffled, but he is aware of all of it. He has to get free, get away, and call Arthur.
"Cobb!"
He jolts awake.
"Relax, it's me."
His breathing slows. "Eames."
"Yeah, I found the black suit in the back of your closet."
He looks up at Eames, "Why would-"
"Come on, get dressed. We've missed the viewing entirely, but Miles said he didn't think you would want to go. Anyways, we're supposed to be meeting Ariadne now at the..."
He gives up trying to think and heads towards the bathroom to get dressed in the suit Eames found.
Eames calls, "Yusuf sends his regards but can't make it due to having a prior engagement. A job he has been working on for months...can't back out now without repercussions."
He calls back, "Do you know why Saito sent me flowers?"
"Uh, he can't be seen with us in public. You know that the Fischer job makes it a bad idea. It's probably his way of saying sorry for missing it."
"Right," he says, but he doesn't know what Eames is talking about.
He comes out of the bathroom fully dressed. Eames ushers him outside as soon as humanly possible.
"Where is my car?"
Eames looks at him with a suspicious, concerned look. "You got in a crash, remember? Right before..."
He thinks about the bruise he saw earlier, the one running from his left shoulder down to the lower right side of his chest. It makes perfect sense...of course he was in a crash, and this must also be why Miles has his children.
Eames is looking at him expectantly.
"Yeah, I remember." He pauses. "I just didn't think the damage was that bad."
"We'll take mine."
He nods and walks over to the old mustang parked in his driveway. He gets into the car, ignoring the neighbors who watch him like a hawk as he does so, and wonders where they are headed. Eames drives in silence, and he does nothing to break the solemn mood.
They come to a stop at all too familiar a place. His head throbs as his mind races. Why is this place so familiar? What the hell is going on?
Ariadne meets them as they exit the vehicle. She slides her arms around his middle, and he feels so confused by it all. She pulls back, smiles at him, and then punches him hard in the shoulder.
"Answer your phone once in a while, Cobb."
He rubs his arm. "I was...busy."
"With what? Miles did all the planning for you."
He squints at that but doesn't say anything.
"I know it's been difficult for you, but you need to talk to somebody."
He nods but doesn't look at her.
She smiles sadly, grabbing his arm, and pulling him along. "Come on, it's this way."
He is fine until he realizes where they are. He tries to understand what is happening, but all he can think is that this must be a dream. He walks down the long aisle towards the casket in a daze. Dread fills him as he approaches. His mind throbs in pain with every step that he takes. He stops three-thirds of the way there and can't bring himself to continue. Eames grabs his arm and forces him forwards. He grits his teeth against the pain as he let's himself be pulled towards something he once knew to be true...but chose to forget.
His eyes open (and why and when did he close them in the first place?) to see the contents of the black casket. His mouth drops open as he pants heavily, eyes wide and disbelieving. His hand scrambles for his pocket and struggles to yank out his (Mal's) totem. The metal bites the palm of his hand as he frantically searches for a flat surfaces on which to test reality.
Eames notices his panic and quickly moves a floral arrangement off a small stand so that he can see if he is dreaming or not. He crouches there in front of the small stand (and the casket and everyone at the funeral) and spins the top. Round and round the totem goes, and for a second he holds hope that it won't ever fall, but then it crashes to the surface with a soft plink. His only link to reality is telling him that this is it...he's in the real world. He quickly tests again...just to be certain. Plink. He tests again and again and again, until an animalistic and heart wrenching sob breaks his concentration (and can't anyone do something about whoever it is?). He blinks as he realizes that the person whose uncontrollable sobbing he hears...is himself.
Suddenly it all comes back to him in a chaotic rush.
After Arthur's concerning call on Monday, he had done some research and became worried about Arthur's safety due to the heavy price for Arthur's death. He called Arthur again and was told that Arthur was being followed by some suspicious people while in the midst of a job. He advised Arthur to leave immediately and come visit him in California for the time being. Arthur had reluctantly agreed.
Tuesday morning, He had gone to meet Arthur at the airport and bring him home. The car had been run off the road by a black SUV. They sat stunned in the car for a moment before they jolted into action. The heavily armed men who exited the SUV gave them a hint that they were in more than a little bit of trouble. They attempted to escape, firing behind them with their handguns to give them time to flee.
As they ran side by side through the street, Arthur turned to him with a small smile. He smiled in return and started to say something when a shot rang out. Warm blood ran down his face (he hardly noticed) and he watched as Arthur's body collapsed to the pavement, bullet through the head.
Sirens sounded in the near distance as he fell to the ground beside his friend. The cops and paramedics tried to take Arthur's body but he had yelled and waved his gun. He had thrown himself over Arthur in a protective position and screamed, "No! Don't touch him, don't you touch him. Get away from him!"
The surprising prick of a needle and subsequent black out from sedation had almost been welcome at that point. He woke up several days later after having suffered what the doctors called a psychotic episode. He had seemed fine if a bit disoriented and had been released into the custody of his father-in-law. That was early on Thursday morning. By Thursday evening, he had created a place deep within himself to hide away the secret of Arthur's death, in order to deny that it ever happened. When Miles realized that he was having some sort of mental breakdown, Miles had taken the children and left with the soft demand that he "come back to reality."
Now it's Sunday, he has come back to reality, and God it hurts more than anything. His mind is already starting to curl in on itself in order to try and protect the shards of his remaining sanity. He falls back onto his butt and looks up at the coffin in horror.
"Arthur!"
He jolts to his feet, reaching out to touch his point man's expensive suit, and stills almost immediately after making contact. He stoops to pick up his fallen totem and hesitates when going to put it back in his pocket. He brings the shiny top to eye level and twists it between his fingers for a moment. How can he ever get through this without Arthur by his side like always? Arthur had gotten him through the loss of Mal. They just barely survived that. He doesn't think he can survive this. It's like losing Mal all over again.
It would be so easy to just...
"Cobb..."
He doesn't turn around to look at the gathered crowd that is watching him with concern (and some fear). He brings the top to his lips and places a lingering kiss to it's metal surface before setting it on Arthur's chest. He turns around and moves swiftly away from the coffin, from the funeral, from reality. Arthur is fine, somewhere on a job still. Arthur was never shot anywhere other than in dreams. Reality is gone, buried with someone...(who was it?).
Once an idea has taken hold of the brain it's almost impossible to eradicate.
He pops a couple of the pain relievers he has taken to carrying around and heads back towards his house. He isn't sure why he's out now anyways. He should be getting back. He has to call Arthur and invite his wayward friend home even though he knows Arthur probably won't come (always worried about trespassing and stepping over boundaries). Still, he'll make the call anyways. He misses his best friend.
fin