Title: Betrayed
Chapter 2 – Happy Homecoming?

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. Your feedback is more than important as it will dictate the length of the story and let me know if they are still in character and of course if you're liking it!


Home? This….this can't be Arthur's home, Eames mind races inside. No…he comes from a regular family. He's talked about…he has talked about them right?

Arthur regards both men before him with a small nod before he speaks; wanting to keep his words brief and non-committal. "Cecil, Bryan. Been a long time."

"Not long enough," Cecil sneers as he leans in closer. "You're not welcome here. You never were. Don't you remember what we told you!"

"Never cared then what you thought before so why would I now?"

"You some kinda big shot now?" Bryan asks gruffly.

"It's been how long and you're still trying to goad me into a fight? Really? You never learned your lesson I guess."

"You always thought you're better than us. You're no one! You might fool all those around you with your expensive clothing and sarcastic remarks but you'll always be no one. You even got a family that cares for you? Or are you all alone just as Garth said you might end up?" Bryan leans in even closer with an angry hiss.

Arthur feels his anger starting to surge but given what he remembers about the men before him, he wasn't about to pick a fight when he was outnumbered and had left his gun inside his suitcase – upstairs. Walk away…his brain rightly warns. You didn't come back for this.

"I'm not the same kid you picked on in the past. If you want a fight you'll have one, I promise you!" Arthur glares at them in anger; Eames lips twitching upward in the shadows with an amused smile. I hope you never lose that feistiness love.

"Is that a fact?"

"It is."

Both of them look at Arthur in contempt, Cecil leaning in to offer one last goading remark when two adults and a young boy exit the house and the confrontation disperses.

"We'll finish this another time."

"Count on it!" Bryan hisses.

"Good night gentlemen," Arthur gently nods as he turns on his heel and heads toward the end of the street, not daring to look back; knowing without his gun or some other real life advantage, two against one wouldn't work out well in his favor. It's not like I have Eames here to back me up, his mind instantly ponders. He's gone back to his world. Finish up here and then get back to yours, his mind reminds him. But as he allows himself to dwell on that he now wonders what he's hurrying back to? I am alone.

"I want him to bleed," Bryan growls as one heavy fists pounds into the other thick palm; Eames worry starting to rise. "Seeing that bastard again brought it all back. He set me up…he betrayed me and he has to pay."

"He set both of us up! But now that he's back we'll just have to extend some of our own hospitality and he will bleed. Come on, let's get a drink and talk," Cecil assures him before they pull out of earshot, Eames cursing the fact that he was ill prepared and unable to hear what their evil plan was for dealing unsuspecting Arthur some outright physical harm. He dares to look out once more, watching the two men disappear around the corner and steps out, hurrying across the street to where he had hidden his suitcase and quickly looking around for a place to spend the night. He finally notices a hostel down the street with a for rent sign illuminated and heads toward it; biting back a thought of disdain at what kind of place he might be forced to spend the night in himself. You've been in worse, his brain correctly reminds him.

But as he looks across the street at the darkened house and recalls the hurtful words about Arthur having no one, his own heart starts to feel pain. He's alone…he's always been alone. That explains so much. Why he's so guarded…so closed up…won't let go…won't open up…won't dare to dream bigger. Ever.

"Any single rooms facing the street?"

"You want a single room all to yerself you gotta pay for it," the desk clerk yawns.

"Sure, whatever it takes," Eames answers with a small huff as he takes the key and heads for the stairs; feeling a few sets of inquisitive eyes watching the well-dressed stranger gracing them before he disappears upstairs, reminding himself that this was for a friend and worth the silent hassle he was now enduring.

"Alright Arthur, what has brought you back…home." The last word to escape his lips forces his heart to sink; his mind thinking back to his own delightful childhood where playtime, dreaming and imagination not only flourished but were encouraged to do so by charming and doting parents. He casts a weary gaze outside the window, watching as Arthur's stiff figure rounds the corner and disappears; the two previous troublemakers nowhere in sight.

"So much for a quiet evening," Eames lightly huffs to himself as he grabs a cap and heads back outside, wanting to get a better of the land and see what new trouble Arthur had found for himself.

XXXXXXXX

'Hey Cecil, check this one out. Hey runt you new here?'

'Only here for a visit.'

'To an orphanage? Were you bored? Or did you want to see how the other half lived?'

'Look Bryan he looks sad.'

'What do you two want? My mom and dad said they'd be right back.'

'You're alone got it? They are never coming back! You're stuck here!'

Arthur's lips mutter a small curse in an undertone as he nears the small store, but now wonders if coming back was such a wise idea. Too many memories…and none of them are happy, his brain silently laments as he enters the corner store and offers a small frown to the young cashier.

"Is Rick Towes here?"

"Rick? No sorry man he died a few years back. They still keep the sign for old time's sake I guess. You wanna talk to the new owners?"

"No that's okay thanks I'll just get this bottle of water."

Arthur heads back toward the orphanage, telling himself that he'd only stay one day and then head back to Paris and immerse himself in work. Dealing with sometimes less than reputable companies and people had forced him to always trust his gut and be aware of his surroundings; having eyes in the back of his head. He slows his pace and turns, not seeing the figure quickly duck into the shadows and remain still until he had moved on.

Too...close, Eames mind inwardly gasps as Arthur once again disappears from view nearing the orphanage where he'd remain for the night.

Arthur nears the front door and an image of himself as a small boy hugging his suitcase to his chest as his father's hand pushed him up the stairs to the front door. That's in the past…let it go, he commands himself as he quickly swallows back his rising resentment and heads inside.

At first he had expected to run into Cecil and Bryan but upon not seeing them feels his anxiety starting to lessen; so he knocks and waits to enter.

"Arthur, come on in," Garth entreats the younger man standing in the open doorway to his office with a warm smile. "How was the trip down memory lane?"

"Ran into Cecil and Bryan outside."

"And how was that?"

"Almost feels like old times," Arthur replies in sarcasm.

"Well I know you weren't their biggest fans and I suppose you always knew they weren't yours either but I'm sure as adults they have moved passed petty reasoning's."

"Was more like petty jealousy and outright bullying," Arthur huffs as his brow furrows. "Could never understand why."

"Don't let those two out there ruffle your feathers," Garth huffs as he hands Arthur a half glass of scotch, both settling into easy chairs in the dimly lit office. "They've always tried to get a rise out of everyone."

"Everyone? Always felt like I was their special target," Arthur replies as he takes a small sip of his drink.

"Suppose it was because you never gave in to them. The few times you had me run interference didn't make much of a difference either; you just never gave in to them and they didn't like it. You always kept to yourself."

"Kept thinking my parents would come back," Arthur mentions bitterly. "Inside I think I had given up but outwardly I wanted to keep that dream alive. Gave up on that dream not long after I was left. So do they live around here?"

"They still live in town somewhere and drop by from time to time, usually when they need something. Money mostly."

"What? Garth, do you give in to them? That's not right, especially when you need money for this place. What do they do for work, or whatever?"

"Mostly odd jobs and stuff, nothing that one might typically call a professional success. Cecil got into it with a guy at a bar one night, spent the night in a holding cell until Bryan came and bailed him out. But Bryan has also done a stint behind bars. Oh they're good boys underneath, just got a bit waylaid now and again. But oddly enough they've always remained friends."

"Two of a kind," Arthur lightly grimaces as Garth nods.

"The only two they seem to hurt the most is themselves these days."

"Guess they also grew up. So…who else has come back to visit?"

"Richard Dawkins was back a few months ago."

"Really? How is he?" Arthur asks with the first hint of genuine excitement since he arrived. But as he watches Garth's face cloud over, his heart rate quickens. "Garth?"

"I'm afraid that Richard met with an unfortunate accident a few weeks back."

"Accident? You don't think it was an accident?"

"I don't believe in coincidences. Do you?"

"Sometimes. What happened?"

XXXXXXXX

Eames sharp vision starts to study the landscape closely as if he were scoping out a location for a new job; his mind actually chuckling at the fact that he was doing Arthur's job for him. He had spent the past two hours researching the area, the house itself, those who had lived in it and of course where if he could find them, the adult occupants had gotten to and whose Identity he could 'borrow'.

He had found a Facebook page dedicated to the home and the boys that had lived there over the years. He had aimlessly searched until he found the only one that mattered to him. Eames eyes continue to linger on the picture of a young Arthur, expectant expression, mischievous smile but warm brown eyes that held pain and sorrow and for a few seconds Eames fingers reach out and rest on the computer screen, wanting to take away Arthur's pain and tell him everything would be okay. He presses next and can't help but smirk at a group picture of the boys doing something crazy atop a stationary school bus. But aside from one other group picture, Arthur wasn't to be found.

Maybe he only lasted a few years, Eames muses as he leans back in his chair. Knowing he wasn't about to walk around as himself during the daylight hours and not having the dream space to fall back on, Eames starts to search for someone around his age and who could fit into the brief supply of disguises he had brought; preferably someone who didn't live on the continent but hadn't been active with the others. Tall order and one that wouldn't be easily filled, but it was actually the challenge he could embrace with open arms. Forging someone else's life. I get paid to do this normally, he inwardly ponders. For Arthur, I'd do it for nothing.

He casts a stony sapphire gaze out the window and rests upon the small light across the street. "Why did you come back darling? Business…or personal?"

XXXXXXXX

"You want a hand getting this place ready tomorrow or do you have that covered?" Arthur asks as he and Garth slowly stand up; the scotch all drunk and the two of them ready to call it a night.

"Could always use an extra hand, but don't you have a family to get back to?"

"I travel a lot," Arthur replies with a somewhat strained smile. "No time to settle down."

"And this new friend. You never spoke of him much. What's his relationship to you?"

"Just a friend…maybe brother…in another world, just not this one," a nervous laugh escapes Arthur's lips as he shoves his hands in his trouser pockets.

"Well if you're up for getting a bit dirty, I'd love the help."

"Don't let the attire fool you, I'm more than capable of making a mess with a hammer and some nails," Arthur gently chuckles as Garth pats him on the back.

"Splendid. Well I have a few financial things to tend to in the morning but would love some help after that."

"I think I could use a few hours extra sleep. See you in the morning."

"Goodnight Arthur," Garth states warmly as he watches the young man leave; making sure Arthur's back was turned before he reaches for the phone and exhales heavily.

XXXXXXXX

Arthur pushes the door to his former bedroom open and pauses; it hadn't been reserved for him upon his return, it had been used afterward but was currently vacant. He closes the door and leans against it; his mind showing him an image of himself as a small boy that very first night.

With a heavy breath he slowly heads across the room, covering the small space in a few easy strides and coming to stop at the window, not realizing that he was now being watched by a concerned set of eyes.

Through his binoculars, Eames pauses on Arthur's face, his own heart starting to ache as he watches Arthur's vision start to glisten before he quickly turns away.

"Bad memories love?" Eames whispers in misery as his eyes trace the Arthur's profile. "Tell me what eats away at you in there? What happened?" For a split second he actually ponders the thought of surprising Arthur, sedating him and forcing himself into his tormented dream space, wanting to see just what memory of his past was still haunting him in the present.

'When will you be back mom?'

Arthur hears his voice as a young boy standing in the middle of the very quiet room, holding a small teddy bear in one hand and his suitcase in the other; looking up at his mother as she kisses his cheek and then hugs him tightly.

'We'll be back very soon. You be a good boy now. Always remember your father and I love you and we'll be back very soon.'

'Promise?'

'Trust me.'

"I did trust you," Arthur whispers as he quickly swallows back a lump of emotion and pulls away from the window, heading for his suitcase but forgetting to close the blinds and allowing Eames to watch a bit longer. He slowly opens his suitcase and looks at the gun nestled between two dress shirts before he slowly retrieves it.

"Now I trust on one," Arthur growls to himself as he takes his gun and shoves it under his pillow, a place for safe keeping and swift access.

Oh darling is that the only toy you bring to bed? Eames mind chuckles as he watches Arthur fix the gun under his pillow and then turn back to his suitcase. Tell me you're going to undress for the whole world to see? That would be a waste.

Arthur looks at the open window and turns to close it when there's a knock at the door and he heads to open it; Eames watching as Arthur's body half disappears from view; his mind racing as to who could be calling on him this late.

"Hi…sorry is this your room?"

"Yeah but Garth said you were using it for a few nights."

"Is that okay?"

"Sure," the boy shrugs. "I forgot my toothbrush," the young boy confesses as Arthur holds the door open and smiles as the young boy enters.

"I'm Arthur."

"I'm Allen. Why are you here?"

"Came back for a visit," Arthur replies in truth as he eases himself down onto the bed and looks at the young boy with a friendly smile. "How long have you been here?"

"Since I was little. My mom's dead and no one wanted to adopt me," the young boy replies with a tight lipped smile; an expression that Arthur knows all too well, having perfected the same over the years.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. Garth says I can stay here until I graduate. I'm doing well in school."

"That's what counts."

"Did you used to live here?"

"I did."

"Where's your family?"

"They're dead also."

The young boy grabs his toothbrush and hurries back out, offering a whispered goodnight to Arthur before the door closes once more, leaving the weary point man lone with his troubled thoughts.

'Garth, what if my parents don't come back? Will I get adopted?'

'Let's not worry about that right now Arthur.'

'I can handle the truth. Please tell me, will I ever be adopted?'

'They usually put boys in this house who are past the age of adoption but never say never. Okay come now…'

"Yeah…never," Arthur just mutters to himself as he turns around to get changed for bed, the curtain still open and Eames still watching. But just as he pulls out something to sleep in another soft knock is heard at the door and Arthur hurries to open it.

"Allen did you forge…" Arthur starts with a smile, only to stop short and narrow his eyes as his expression darkens.

"Oh bloody hell what is he doing there?" Eames hisses as his free hand automatically reaches for his sidearm.


A/N: Okay hopefully you are all still liking it and am slowly upping the tension and impending danger but adding past snippets and some future angst. So as always would love your review before you go and thanks so much!