A.N: I wrote first installment by hand while I sat beside my friend's hospital bed and it was a way for me to cope with difficult emotions. On the night she died I posted the first chapter because I couldn't sleep. While I don't exactly feel like writing I want to tie up loose ends before my next semester starts and actually finish some of the fics that have gone without updates.
Disclaimer: I don't own Inception or The Sandman. Obviously. I'm sure there are errors that I missed because my eyes are too tired, so I'll fix them tomorrow.
Five Times Eames Meets One of the Endless After Starting a Relationship with Arthur and One Time He Didn't
In the past, Eames hadn't really been popular in the sense that he was invited to every party or went on a ton of dates or even had his pick of friends. But after he'd met Arthur, worked with Arthur, and (why lie about it?) fell for Arthur, Eames began to notice that he'd become oddly popular with perfect strangers, all who mentioned a connection to his darling.
1.
It had made sense to team up after the years Arthur had spent following Cobb and trying to get him back to his children in one piece with a clear name. Cobb was going to retire from dreamshare and both Arthur and Eames's careers had accelerated with the completion of the first successful inception. Why deny the fact that they worked well together or that both were sought after as the best point man and the best forger?
With Cobb taken out of the equation, the jobs they took were relatively free of problems as Arthur carefully researched their clients and marks, even vetting architects and chemists who wanted to work with them and have the opportunity to brag to others in their field or put it on their resumes. He'd not have another mistake like on the Fischer job.
That didn't mean that mistakes didn't happen despite careful planning.
"I'm so sorry," their new chemist said, not sobbing yet because Arthur was out getting lunch and Eames had willingly agreed to test the new mix of Somnacin.
Eames would have reassured the young chemist, maybe patting the guy's hand and promising that Arthur wouldn't murder him for a small mistake in the planning stages of a job, even though it was an inception.
But Eames couldn't talk.
He'd chosen a comfy padded lounge chair, one of the one's he'd wheedled Arthur into purchasing for the warehouse because they were making excellent money now, why get lawn chairs if we didn't have to and why sacrifice comfort in the name of thrift? Eames couldn't lift his head and was having some trouble figuring out what to do with his arms, but didn't care so much because he was seeing some of the most beautiful colors- like little fireworks displays that exploded into being as he tried to keep his eyes open, the after images of neon starbursts appearing on the back of his eyelids as he blinked.
"I'm going to get you something to drink, okay? Just stay calm, relax, and remember that I said this stuff was still in the experimental stages!"
Eames nodded and smiled for the chemist and wasn't bothered when he left to fetch a beverage. He wasn't bothered because there was someone else in the room that the young man hadn't noticed.
"I'm sorry," Eames managed to say after he turned his head and looked at his guest. "I could call him back so he could get you something to drink, too?"
His guest was very young and very fragile looking despite her odd attire- fishnets and bare feet, a coat that looked a lot like something Eames had in his closet. Her hair was wild- its color and style fluctuated and changed, making him dizzy as he watched it shift from short to long to buzzed. It finally settled in a length that was, maybe for her, fairly conservative, but it took Eames a full minute to notice that the colors matched those found in his paisley shirt. He was flattered.
Curled on her side, this oddity smiled at him, staring with eyes two different shades- one was green, the other blue with little flecks of silver that kind of reminded Eames of a marble he'd had as a child.
"Nooo," she answered, drawing out the word. "He- that chemical boy, the one who looks so so frightened- he can't see me. Only you can right now. But I could make you not see me, too. I can do that."
And then as an afterthought, she said, "If you want a marble, I can give it to you. I can find the one you lost before. I can give it to you-," she began to ramble, clasping her hands together, pulling them apart, and reaching into thin air to, improbably, offer him that old blue and silver flecked marble he'd traded to a boy he'd liked who was one grade above him in primary school. Eames wasn't in the state of mind to ask her how she'd gotten it, but there was something that made him not reach out for it immediately.
She noticed him hesitate and her lips trembled, making her smile shudder. "It's a gift," she began, ready to give it to him, reaching out from her spot on her lounge chair as if she'd place it next to his leg, an offering. "Not one of those gifts I would give if I didn't like you- because I do, Mr. Eames- silly man who thinks no one knows your real name, but I do. And so does he. I'd give you a gift just because you offered me a beverage and didn't make me have mango juice even though I liked it once but don't like it anymore."
Eames blinked, not seeing as many fireworks anymore, but frowning over the run-on sentence that spilled from her mouth. Considering that this was a fairly self-aware hallucination, Eames was willing to give it, or her, the benefit of the doubt.
"I wouldn't make you drink mango juice if you didn't want any."
"See, that's why I like you. I could give you a gift that makes you see pretty lights all the time. I could do that, because right now you're one of mine, even though mostly you're one of his. I could make this last forever, even though he'd get upset and make that face at me, the grumpy one that makes me think he hates me and-"
She suddenly stopped, looking past Eames, her mismatched eyes widening for a brief second. The girl, though Eames got this sense that she was truly much older, sat up on the lounge, rearranging herself so she was seated on the side and facing Eames. She smiled for him and leaned forwards, pressing a kiss between his eyes.
"I've kissed a wyvern and now I've kissed a forger and now I'm going to go before he catches me. But now you'll feel better even though you won't see me or the pretty lights."
And that much was true- he'd almost went cross-eyed when she'd kissed him, but once she'd pulled away, Eames felt much more collected, he didn't see those lights, and after a second he noticed that she was gone.
"Here!" The chemist almost yelled, running to Eames's side with a full glass of water and Arthur trailing behind him with a particularly impressive frown; if Helen was the face that launched a thousand ships, Arthur's would be the one that sent them in the other fucking direction. "I've got the water for you- feeling better? I ran into Arthur. Literally, ran into him, but it's okay, everything's fine-"
Arthur shot the poor chemist a look, catching the chemist's eye as the man frantically tried not to incur the wrath of Arthur.
Arthur put their lunch orders on a nearby table and moved to Eames's side, ignoring the chemist in favor of examining Eames.
"How do you feel?" Arthur asked, examining the way Eames's eyes reacted to the light he shined on them using the flashlight app on his cell phone. "When I ran into Baker he'd said you'd been hallucinating after you woke from the test run of the latest Somnacin."
Eames nodded. "I saw pretty lights even when my eyes were closed."
And there was that strange lady. Did I forget to mention the strange lady?
Eames wasn't sure why but he'd not said anything to Arthur about her. He hadn't even gotten her name, though she'd already known his...but if she was a hallucination, a product of his own mind, why wouldn't she know his name?
Watching Arthur continue to frown, clicking off his flashlight app and beginning to turn away from Eames to give Baker a piece of his mind. Maybe it was the decidedly grumpy look on his face that made Eames think of it. Just as Arthur was about to let Baker have it, Eames reached out and plucked at the point man's sleeve with his fingers, saying, "You know, I could use a break- I'm feeling better, but would you mind..."
That was all it took- Baker clasped his hands and frantically mouthed, Oh god, thank you, as soon as Arthur turned away from him and returned his attention to Eames.
"Yes?"
"I think I need some fresh air," Eames lied smoothly. "We could take our lunch outside and take a break."
Arthur nodded and moved to grab their lunch, leaving Baker's portion on the table.
When they passed the cringing chemist, Arthur said, "Fix the mix and we'll try it again on me- next time wait for me to come back."
Eames followed after him, feeling better, but already enjoying the idea of getting some sun. He put his hands inside his pockets and didn't exactly question why he'd picked up a silver flecked blue marble off of his lounge chair and slipped it in his pocket before following Arthur out.
Maybe he wasn't finished hallucinating. Maybe that's why it felt so solid, why he'd been able to pick it up, why it was so strange to have it bumping against his totem.
He couldn't bring himself to remove it from his pocket- it had been a gift, after all. He supposed that once the Somnacin's strange effects had worn off he'd discover that it wasn't there at all. That he'd been silly to pick up a marble he'd hallucinated.
But all through lunch with Arthur, Eames was too aware of the marble in his pocket which seeming to grow heavier with each passing minute till Eames casually reached into his pocket to hold the marble in his hand, squeezing it tightly in the hopes it would disappear.
When he couldn't find it that evening when he changed his clothes before crawling into bed, he breathed a sigh of relief and went to sleep unburdened.
