Straitjacket Feeling
Disclaimer: Still don't own the characters from Inception!
A.N- Final chapter that sort of exploded from four pages to twenty-four. It's not exactly what I wanted it to be but it sort of evolved as I was writing it. For this chapter, we finally get a looking into the mind of Mr. Eames, and also dip into his point of view and Yusuf's just for variety and storytelling. If there is anything that can be done to make it better in your guys opinion,
Chapter 3- In Which Everything Falls Apart
It surprised Arthur in many different ways that it had taken such a short amount of time for this little 'experiment' to go to hell. He had been willing to wait the seven days, the single week, gritting his teeth and bearing the awkward situations and the misunderstandings in the hope of a cure coming along and making it so Eames would be back to normal and if he had any real recollection of what had come to pass, that he would laugh about it with him!
No such luck.
At all.
Ever.
It took only one day together to brush the Forger's romantic feelings aside, even though it was unwilling and sort of an accident.
And, now, it had taken just four days to make even the platonic relationship go to hell.
Arthur was certain that he had set a new sort of land-speed record for breaking the human heart.
To take this back a few paces, we, as the audience of this little tragedy would have to look in on Arthur as he invades Eames' privacy in search of new information.
It was the fourth day. The fourth freaking day, and Arthur was already jumping at little noises and practicing not looking over at Eames every little chance he got. In fact it was giving him this terrible crick in his neck when he attempted to sneakily look over at the other man who was practicing expressions in a small mirror not too far away. At times, Eames would tear his gaze away from his own reflection to look in Arthur's direction. And, in his efforts to prove Yusuf, Eames, Fate, and anyone else wrong, Arthur gave himself neck strain by quickly forcing his attention away from the other man and back towards his work.
Needless to say, towards the end of the day, Arthur had detailed fantasies that involved rubbing Icy Hot onto his sore neck.
And if he thought about it too hard, he'd include that it would be Eames who would be applying it (and yes, he only half meant it when he rationalized that having another person take care of it would be easier).
Plagued by these thoughts, particularly the drawled line of- 'But are you sure that you would like it icy, darling? I would think that you would prefer it to be, ah, hot.'- Arthur decided that he needed to do something to distract himself from these thoughts and get some questions answered.
As of late he had noticed that in the morning during the painfully quiet breakfast they shared, during the car ride to work, on lunch hour, after sessions on the PASIV, and quite possibly before bed, Eames had taken up writing in a journal of some sort.
Arthur didn't make it a point to invade the privacy of his fellow dream workers, but there was something about this journal that begged him to crack it open and see what exactly the Forger had been filling it with.
It was late, the warehouse was empty of all but himself and Eames who was working with the PASIV, trying to iron out the kinks in his forgery.
He would never know, Arthur rationalized. It couldn't hurt. Maybe it could reveal what Eames's dreaming mentality was- he was actually kind of shocked that he hadn't thought about it himself. What if his memories were intact in his subconscious but out of reach while awake?
Fueled with a need for data and confirmation, Arthur slipped silently to the desk where the journal lay so innocently and unguarded, took a seat and flipped it open.
Despite having only owned the journal for a short time, Arthur could see that Eames had devoted a large amount of his time to filling up several pages with dated entries about dreams he had and his day to day experiences.
The dreams, or his recollection of the dreams, or maybe his state of mind concerning the dreams, caused him to write in the third person while he meant to write about himself. Or that was what Arthur was thinking.
'He doesn't know what is happening. He just sits around and mopes without him there. He has no way of escaping the trap he is in- it should terrify him, but it doesn't, because all he does is think about-'
Arthur could see that a word had been scratched out, but despite the sharp slashes of ink, made left to right horizontally, he could see the impressions of a capital 'a', and a 't-h-u-r' towards the end of the censored block of script. He was certain that the completed sentence had nothing to do with 'a Thursday'.
He didn't know why he had the urge to smile when he saw his name written down in this journal- well, that was a lie sort of. He always loved the way that Eames said his name in those rare moments when he didn't use some term of endearment. Eames and his accent had to be one of Arthur's favorite guilty pleasures. The way he said his name- Ar-thuh. One smoothly spoken 'Ar-thuh' coupled with a 'darling' made him feel like smiling like an idiot longer than could be explained away- for all the team, or even Dom knew, Arthur had paralysis of the facial muscles that allowed him to smile. Or he had become so good at being a Heavy Weight Champion Frowner he couldn't drop down into smile without spraining something.
Reading his name on paper, written by Eames, made him feel a little better despite the fact that it had been scratched out.
As he read on, he noticed that there were several moments where his name had been stricken from the record, but then, later on, Eames had given up the ghost and when he did happen to write down the Point Man's name, he let it be. This 'he' also happened to be an 'Arthur expert'.
'Arthur has dimples. Though it takes a quick eye to catch them, he always can. He smiles at Arthur and calls him something sweet, or even just says his name. He knows that if he looks at him out of the corner of his eye he can catch the smile that Arthur doesn't want anyone to know about. It makes him think that he is in the possession of something rare and precious. Because no one got to see it but him, and if he were to count them, he was responsible for every single one of Arthur's hidden smiles.'
As he read this, Arthur couldn't help the smile that bloomed across his face. It was unrestrained, and if he were to admit it out right, it kind of hurt a little because of how little he had been smiling as of late. Without Eames his usual self, it was like this moment was hard exercise done without the proper warm up, and in addition to his neck, his cheeks would be sore for longer than he'd like.
Flipping through the other pages he found more of the same- talk of being trapped, or lost, or talk of Arthur. Could it really be that the Eames he knew, the Eames that remembered him, could be locked away in his own subconscious? That as he dreamed he gave himself this information, or maybe even spoke of it himself to pass the time- the translation to the waking mind could very well be 'I' becoming 'He'. For all the waking Eames knew, he was dreaming of a stranger with all sorts of intimate knowledge of his standoffish coworker.
And that was when the proverbial light bulb went on.
Arthur had peeked over at the still sleeping Forger that was lying on top of a lawn chair, hooked up to the PASIV with the timer going.
The Point Man didn't think it through. He didn't plan. He just acted with little care to the consequences- there was easily another fifteen minutes on the timer and he felt that it could be more than enough time to speak to Eames while he dreamed. There was an empty lawn chair nearby, an extra line to the PASIV and enough chemicals available. Though he didn't make it a habit to invade the dreams of his coworkers (unlike other certain young Architects he knew), Arthur couldn't stop himself from taking this chance with his new knowledge.
After hooking himself up and laying down close to the Forger, all it took was a few seconds to be pulled down into the other man's dream.
As Arthur opened his eyes he found himself in an apartment that he didn't recognize. It wasn't large and gave the first impression of being cluttered- a bookshelf that was practically spilling excess novels or other books, many of which that had been painstakingly stacked up on the ground in neat piles.
The furniture was worn but comfortable, maybe second hand.
And that was about as far as Arthur had gotten in examining his new dreaming environment when he heard the sound of hurried footsteps, was crashed into, and then held in desperation.
"Oh darling," Eames said reverently against Arthur's neck. "Why didn't you gatecrash my dreams earlier in the week? I've been driving myself mad waiting for you to get it into your head that you had to find me in a dream, before you had to dreamshare with me for the job- to be honest, I wasn't quite sure how I would have been able to contain myself if you hadn't!"
Eames ended that flood of words with a kiss to the skin he found there, exposed and unprotected by the neck of his buttoned and perfectly pressed shirt. There had never been a moment that Arthur had wished he wore casual clothing to work more.
At that gentle touch, he felt himself inclining into it- leaning his head slightly to the side, offering up his neck like some cat begging for the attentions of its master.
The smile that Eames pressed into his skin prompted Arthur to say something ridiculous. "I want you to call me darling again. And love. And pet."
The smile widened. "I knew you loved the endearments- you are my darling, love, pet, and whatever else I can come up with!"
"Shut up, Mr. Eames and just kiss me!"
For once Eames did exactly what Arthur had asked- and my god had Arthur wanted to ask for this for awhile! It was lips and tongue and just the right amount of teeth. If Arthur held onto Eames any tighter, he would have passed through him, and since they were in a dream, it was advised to think very hard about being solid.
And, god, at the moment all he could think about was that there was something quite hard and very solid pressing up against him. And, if he was able to just make The Forger's pants disappear, it was quite possible that there would be much more than making out and heavy petting in his future.
Arthur, focused and precise, best damn Point Man in the business, was reduced to a little more than a bundle of want and he didn't care right now.
He had been waiting for this for too long. He had denied himself so much and was more than eager to begin something. And that was how they had ended up on the couch, because with very few words exchanged both had indicated that even in a dream the floor couldn't be all that comfortable.
"I miss you," Arthur managed to say between kisses that felt almost bruising, "You haven't gone anywhere, but I still miss you!"
"I think I understand madness now," Eames said as he forced Arthur's shirt open, scattering buttons across the floor and the couch cushions he pressed Arthur down into. "I feel like two different people- while awake I think that you are a perfect stranger and while asleep you're all I think about!"
"I can't take it anymore," Arthur groaned as Eames did something devilish that involved making the Point Man's slacks and underwear disappear and then a forceful pressing of the hips that would grind their lower bodies together. If Arthur could be likened to anything, he'd be something like ivy that had chosen to curl around Eames, wanting more contact, slipping his legs around the man's hips in anticipation- grateful that the Forger had thought to get rid of such pesky things like clothing. "I'm using the last bit of reason I've got right now; shouldn't we talk about the accident? What's happened so far?"
Eames looked down at Arthur who didn't look quite so proper. Disheveled hair, lips that were swollen from his kisses, and a level of excitement that others would say was impossible for the man to express. Further evidence of excitement was pressing firmly against the Forger's stomach.
"There was an accident," Eames said in response to Arthur, laying a kiss against his lips. "I have forgotten you in the waking world but remember you here." He pressed another kiss against the side of Arthur's neck that garnered him a moan of pleasure. "You are trying valiantly to bring my memories of you back to the surface without compromising what we once had."
Eames ran a hand down the side of Arthur's face and gazed deeply into his eyes. "Did I just about cover it, love?"
When Arthur nodded, Eames chose that moment to sink himself home with one silken push of his hips, thus ending the conversation.
It took Arthur by surprise at first- and then, soon, Arthur could care less that there hadn't been the preparation he would demand while in reality.
He had dreamed of having sex with Eames several times. Okay, more than several. It had become a regular occurrence for him after the Inception and took up more of his thoughts than he would readily admit. But it had a different tone in this dream. It wasn't just happenstance and a dreamed up situation of lovemaking. It was Eames's intention to make love to him, his real wanting to, the affection and desire that fueled their movements wasn't manufactured- it was as real as was possible in their shared dream. That was it. A shared wish, the equal wanting and sharing, and the search for completion that they both required after waiting for each other for so long.
Though he still had questions, still wanted to know what it was like down here, and how he could possibly make the waking Eames remember him any better, he was now driven to slip his legs off of Eames's hips to get better leverage in order to return each thrust. He left crescent shaped marks from his fingernails deep in the flesh of Eames's shoulders and back.
Even as close as they were, sharing each other's breath, pressing their lips together again and again, it was like it wasn't enough.
Arthur squeezed his eyes shut hard, convulsing as Eames found his prostate, making him see stars even behind his closed lids.
"There it is," Eames said with a breathy chuckle and had Arthur opening his eyes even as the Forger pushed harder, his intent appearing to make Arthur dissolve from the repeated thrusts against that sensitive bundle of nerves.
He felt so close, just on the edge, and when he felt Eames reach for one of the hands he had fisted into the material of the couch, he didn't think of letting go. The Forger twinned their fingers together, his palm resting against the back of Arthur's hand. He led their clasped hands down together and pressed them against Arthur's straining length.
Arthur gasped at the first touch and looked up into Eames's face as he felt the pleasure begin to pool in his belly, tightening up his lower back.
"I want you to show me how to touch you, love. What do you like?"
Following what Eames intended, with their joined hands, Arthur grasped himself, feeling a little thrill at the sensation of Eames fingers gripping him as well, allowing Arthur to control the movements as he pleasured himself.
"That's perfect, love," Eames praised, still moving within him, but now pressing his face against the hollow of Arthur's throat. Arthur could feel the quickness of his breathing, the fast beating of his heart, and knew that soon, this was going to be over. "More perfect than I could ever dream," Eames said, moaning deep in his throat and pushing a bit harder. "Darling, I love you," he said in a broken voice as his pleasure began to peak.
Arthur gasped and without giving it another thought, he responded. It was one of the few things he could ever say that he knew with complete certainty. "I love you too, Eames," he sighed, feeling everything building and building, the pleasures taking him higher before finally-
The timer on the PASIV reached zero, and Arthur woke up.
There was a moment where Arthur thought that this had been one of the dreams he had by himself- in the quiet of his lonely and cold apartment. It had felt so powerful, so intense though, that he couldn't think of it as one of his normal dreams.
The illusion of this being an occurrence without consequence vanished when Arthur felt the lead from the PASIV ripped from his arm, the needle stinging as it drew blood.
The flurry of movement and the pain forced Arthur to try and get up, automatically looking over at Eames.
He wished he hadn't.
Eames had ripped his own lead out and was already up on his feet and looming over Arthur. When he tried to get up, Eames forced him back down on the lawn chair, restraining him.
"What in the hell was that you sick bastard!" Eames growled, glaring daggers.
Nightmare, Arthur thought to himself as he watched the face he had previously been looking up at from a similar position but under far different circumstances- there was no relation between those two men. While Eames in the dream had been so loving, so attentive, expressing his love and desire for Arthur without restraint. The only restraint Arthur could see here in the waking world was in how The Forger was trying to master his anger.
He looked quite capable of hurting Arthur at this point, and it gave him that feeling of cresting the roller coaster- and suddenly realizing that there was no more track to roll down on safely- that he was about to go sailing through the air with the momentum of the coaster but then fall swiftly to the ground in several pieces.
"Please let me explain," Arthur began.
"What? What are you going to explain to me? A few days ago you didn't want me! Now you think it's okay to screw me in dreams?!"
Arthur swallowed hard. "You don't understand. You were in an accident, Yusuf exposed you to a chemical that made you forget me- Eames we have been working together for years!"
Eames's eyes narrowed. "You make it a habit to ignore a man in real life and then have sex in a dream? Is that what we do?"
Shocked, Arthur shook his head. "No, Eames! You, god, how do I explain it? We're trying to get your memory back- I couldn't force you back into what you felt before- our slate had been cleaned and we had to work back up to this. When you asked about whether I would go out with you, I panicked because I didn't want to lead you on!"
Eames was giving him a look that held a terrifying weight to it. His thoughts were not kind and his intentions weren't fair.
"Lead me on, eh? Well I'd say that you stepped in it really nicely. Have you been making me have these little dreams about you- the little 'I feel special because I'm the only one who catches Arthur's smiles?' dreams?"
Eames forced his hand down harder against the Point Man's chest as he recited more of his 'Arthur-expert' dreams.
"'Arthur only drinks tea on Wednesday's?' 'Arthur always shares the last cinnamon roll from the bakery when I've had a bad day?' 'If Arthur would just look at me before I catch him pretending to have not been staring, maybe I could get him to agree to go to dinner with me?'"
He laughed. "Have you been trying to lay your own kind of inception on me, darling?" Arthur flinched as the endearment that normally made him so happy, instead made him sick. "Trying to make me think that I like you so much?"
Arthur felt like he couldn't breathe, the pressure on his chest making it hard for him to draw a full breath. In any other situation, Arthur would have stopped this. He would have made the person forcing him down stop- either by trickery or force. Arthur was versed in hand to hand combat and he was strong despite being a slender lean muscled man.
But, because it was Eames, Arthur couldn't do it. He couldn't raise a hand against him even to help himself at this point.
"Eames," Arthur forced the name out and tried to keep solid steely control over his emotions. He was a rock. He was a Point Man. He shouldn't be affected this strongly by what was happening, but in any and all situations that involved Eames, Arthur was lost.
"Shut up," Eames said coldly. He looked over his shoulder at the open journal and smiled cruelly down at Arthur. "Such a good Point Man. You'll pry apart anything to get your data, won't you? I can't believe I even thought for a second that you weren't so cold. That you even were worth trying to start anything with!"
When Eames pulled his hand away and released his pressure, Arthur sucked in a great lungful of air and tried to get up into a sitting position quickly.
Eames was staring at him. It wasn't anything close to how he had looked at him in the past, or in the dream, or anytime they had known each other. He was openly suspicious, even a little disgusted.
"You know Arthur," Eames said sharply, making the other man's name sound like something derogatory or low, nothing like how he had whispered it against his flesh in the midst of their dream together. Nothing that made him feel special or wanted in the least.
"Maybe I was right to forget you!"
At that moment, Arthur felt something deep inside of him develop thin hairline fractures, spider webs of damage that would break apart into heavy fragments at the slightest touch. And it was Arthur's dearest wish that he be outside of this room and away from Eames when it took place.
In a way, he got his wish as Eames grabbed his bag and his journal and left the warehouse without another word to Arthur. When the door slammed shut, Arthur allowed himself to collapse in on himself as he sat on the lawn chair. He hugged himself so tightly that it made him recall the phone call that had led to his involvement in this drama- how he had held himself in a similar way, giving himself the straitjacket feeling.
The straitjacket feeling wasn't helping- he was now truly alone, he didn't even have the hope of Eames to help him through this.
It took days for Arthur to finally come to the proper conclusion. Deep in his heart, amidst the heartbreak, was a feeling of hate so strong that he wasn't sure where it was directed.
He hated Yusuf for enlisted Eames's help with this chemical that took his memory of Arthur away.
He tried to hate Eames, but realized that he hated himself even more for what had transpired in just one week.
On the seventh day, after a few days of not showing up to the warehouse to work, not answering his cell phone, and then ignoring the messages his fellow team members would leave him when he wouldn't answer, Arthur had had an idea that was beautiful in its simplicity.
If Eames had forgotten him because of that chemical focusing on his feelings of lost hope over not starting a relationship so long after the Inception, perhaps Arthur could also expose himself to this drug.
Eames had definitely caused Arthur plenty of trauma in just their last interaction alone. If he used the drug while working with the PASIV, had his memory of Eames erased, perhaps he could move on.
If he went back to work with Dom and Eames was still present as their Forger, he could take his spot as Point Man and return the feelings of animosity tit for tat with Eames, just like they used to.
Or, Eames could leave his position once Arthur showed up with no true memory of the Forger left to haunt him. It would be like he never existed.
The thought made Arthur's stomach twist, but, he felt that he had no recourse. Before leaving his apartment, he spotted the framed photo that he would always look at with such warm feelings. In the photo, Eames hugged him close to his side and looked so content, so wonderful, that it always gave Arthur this hope that the relationship was possible.
It took an extra moment, but he removed the picture from the frame. It was the only photo that featured himself and Eames positioned that close and looking anywhere near happy with one another. It was the picture that could give anyone the idea that they ever could or would be a couple.
The last thing Arthur did before leaving was burn it on the top of his stove so he wouldn't be faced with the evidence later, when it wouldn't matter what a picture could show him when he didn't even know the man anymore.
"I want you to reconsider."
"Not bloody likely."
"My friend, you don't understand what's going on. He has had your best intentions at heart!"
Eames glared at Yusuf while keeping his attention away from Arthur's empty desk. He was still deeply angry over what had come to pass between himself and the Point Man that was now AWOL.
"Next time a perfect stranger comes into your dreams to shag you, we can chat about how good their intentions were, but I think that the subject of Arthur is closed!"
Yusuf looked at him with a particularly hard expression. Like Eames was a problem he was meant to solve.
"He loved you," Yusuf pronounced, emphasizing each word. It gained the attention of the two remaining dream workers who had been politely ignoring the arguing pair until Arthur's name had been brought up.
"He faked the papers for your apartment complex's pest extermination so you could stay with him and have a better chance at recalling him."
Eames made a face as if he were sucking on something sour. "A lot of good that did, for all I know he was the one giving me those dreams before he decided that he should get a little dream sex since he didn't want to 'lead me on'," Eames said, using little air quotes as he spoke.
This made Yusuf raise an eyebrow. "So you were having dreams about Arthur? What were they about?"
"I don't want to talk about it. Don't you have work to do?"
Yusuf only pressed harder. "What else am I to do? You have moved out of Arthur's place and don't seem to remember anything about him from before- for that matter you don't seem to want to after what had happened a few days ago."
Eames didn't regard him with an answer. Yusuf waited a second, and then two, before turning his back and walking away.
"Then I guess there is nothing else I can help you with."
Eames shot a look at Dom and Ariadne, both who worked hard at making it appear as if they didn't care about the outside conversation that had nothing to do with their work as a team but interested them on a personal level.
"Can we talk about this outside?" Eames finally asked, rising to his feet.
Yusuf stopped, turned, and then nodded sharply.
"We'll get coffee. You're buying."
"The truth is that I had been able to return to my apartment after the first couple of days at Arthur's place."
Yusuf raised an eyebrow, sipping at his beverage before placing it down in front of him at the table he had Eames had chosen in the busy coffee shop.
"You stayed two more days even though you didn't have to? That doesn't sound like you disliked Arthur as much as you are letting on now."
Eames let out a frustrated sigh. "I had been telling you what I was going through. I knew that he was familiar, and yeah, I was getting pretty jealous of the others when they interacted with him- specifically Ariadne! And when I broached the subject of even going on a date, he blows me off!"
Yusuf nodded slowly. "And yet, you stayed after finding out that you could go home- how did you find out that you could anyway?"
Eames shrugged and only picked at the pastry he had bought to go with his tea. "I called the manager, asked, and he said that there hadn't been any extermination planned, at least, not yet. I got curious as to why I would have to stay with Arthur if I didn't have to."
Yusuf shrugged. "Yes, it couldn't possibly have been because you enjoyed the man's company and oh, horror of horrors, found that you liked him a bit more than you thought."
Eames was too tired to glare. He was tired of being upset. Of being angry. Of being confused. His dreams were beginning to scare him with their intensity.
"The dreams were getting to me."
Yusuf waited.
"The dreams where I believed I knew things about Arthur. Things that I shouldn't know or even care about!"
Yusuf nodded and took another sip of his drink. "The dreams where all you do is talk about Arthur and think about Arthur. But that still doesn't tell me why you stayed with him even if you didn't have to."
"I-," Eames began and then stopped himself. The truth was that he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure why he did, or what he could possibly gain from it, even if he did admit that he watched Arthur like mad during those times. Watched and watched, waiting for something to click.
"I wanted to know why he was so familiar. He couldn't be so familiar if I hadn't been around him, right? Everyone says so!"
Yusuf nodded heavily. "I'm sorry about the effects of the chemical, I have been working at it day and night but I haven't found a way to counteract the effects of the drug."
Eames sighed and looked into the depths of his mug of tea. Tea…it made him frown because he recalled what he had written down about Arthur and tea. Arthur had tea on Wednesday's- today was a Wednesday. Briefly he wondered, wherever the Point Man was, if he was having tea. He looked at his pastry and shook his head. It was a blasted cinnamon roll. Which made him think of Arthur- who would give him the last one if he wasn't having a good day. How could he have done something so stupid as give himself two reminders of the person he didn't want to think about, and really, couldn't completely remember?
But, even then, it wasn't completely true, now was it?
The dreams where he listened to another person talk about Arthur- that information had to be coming from somewhere. Yusuf had reviewed the journal without criticism or comment, as Eames had tried to ignore him.
He had suspected that he was listening to himself go on and on about Arthur, but, why?
Yes, he had been attracted to the man. He had felt that strange sensation, that niggling little feeling one gets when you meet a person that you haven't seen for years.
The feeling he had experienced while watching Arthur had struck him as absurd.
You don't fancy someone after meeting them once.
You don't get jealous over your coworkers because of that person you have met only once.
You don't have dreams every single freaking night in which you know personal information about that person.
Eames had been of the firm opinion that he was going mad- that he had two personalities that fought against one another.
But it was all too much like a trashy soap opera. Even his reaction when Arthur had entered his dream…he was ashamed of what he had said and done afterwards.
It had needled him that Arthur would just do that! And if Eames had been willing to be honest with himself, he was more disappointed upset Arthur had chosen to do it in a dream rather than in reality.
Apparently, Eames had been sitting with his thoughts for awhile longer than he had thought. When he next thought to take a sip of his tea, it wasn't even lukewarm anymore.
"If you'd like I can try to run a few tests on you to see what your subconscious is up to," Yusuf offered politely.
Eames rolled his eyes. The man was eager to get him into his little lab- wonderful.
"Fine."
When they arrived at Yusuf's both men noticed something was off.
"Your door is open," Eames said as they walked up.
Yusuf swore and raced up the stairs, Eames fast on his heels.
What a disaster it would be if some little punk had chosen his place to raid for items to steal? The thief would find things that were better than TV sets and computers to hock if he got into Yusuf's personal lab to find his chemicals or, worse, the PASIV.
But when they entered, they were surprised to find that it wasn't some hooligan, who had broken in, but Arthur.
Inside the lab, the PASIV had been set up, fired up and ready to go. Laying next to it was Arthur, who had already inserted his needle and only looked up at their intrusion briefly.
"Huh," he said, almost to himself. "I thought I gave myself more time than that."
When Eames was about to race over to stop him from pressing the button that allowed the chemicals to be distributed, Yusuf grabbed a fistful of his shirt and made him stay at his side.
"Arthur, my friend," Yusuf said. "If you needed anything, you could have called…and you know, not break into my place. I'd be happy to help you with whatever you require!"
Arthur did not look well. He had clearly not had much sleep and wasn't himself. The man was dressed and put together as nicely as ever, but there was a blankness to his features and his expression that was foreboding. It was clear that he was about to do something damaging and didn't quite care.
Eames flinched when he met Arthur's gaze, realizing that this had to be his fault. His words came back to haunt him.
Maybe I was right to forget you!
"I had a feeling you wouldn't comply if you knew what I wanted."
"And what would that be, Arthur?" Yusuf asked, even as he looked at the materials around the room that had been moved, used, and replaced.
"I'm going to forget Eames. He'll feel better, because I won't bother him. I'll feel better because I won't remember him at all. Simple."
It seemed that the next warning on Yusuf's lips was deflected with the Point Man's characteristic attention to detail.
"If you try to warn me about getting the dosage wrong, or say that I'm using the wrong chemical, I'll know that you're lying. You keep such concise notes, Yusuf, that it was easy for me to work out the dosage and pick the proper chemical," Arthur said, and then as an afterthought, "Thanks, by the way."
Eames felt something inside begin to react to the Point Man's words. For a moment Eames believed that he would be sick, or faint, or do any number of things that could disgrace him or make him incapable of stopping Arthur from doing something he could come to regret.
But before Eames could put a name to it, Arthur pressed the button, closed his eyes, and was no longer awake with the aid of the PASIV.
"Oh my dear god," Eames said as he rushed to Arthur's side. He did the first thing he could think of and shook Arthur, grasping him by the shoulders and trying to shake him awake.
Nothing.
As his eyes moved to the PASIV and the button that could stop it's working, Yusuf stopped him.
"No, Eames. The chemical isn't stable and it's not safe to just put a stop to it! He won't wake up because the chemical is paired with a mild sedative to aid the process of therapy with the chemical."
Eames produced another lead for the machine without a second thought. "Then I go in after him."
Yusuf bit his tongue against his next reply. There was something firm in Eames's stance- he wasn't going to budge where Arthur was concerned. Not after everything that had occurred.
Yusuf nodded sharply and helped Eames prepare.
Eames laid down near to Arthur and allowed Yusuf to apply the needle.
"You won't have much time Eames. I don't know what a second dose of this chemical will do to you-"
Eames, sleepily, shook his head from side to side.
"Don't care- I need Arthur," he said before his head dropped to the side and he fell asleep.
When Eames opened his eyes he was faced with the beach- its stretches of damp sand without any water rushing across its surface with the waves, the bunches of seaweed, the rocks and cobbles.
Close by was Arthur standing underneath the blinding sunlight, looking out at the ocean, clearly waiting for the wave that must have been in Yusuf's notes about the chemical.
Because he himself had pictured the chemical's reaction as a tidal wave, it stood to reason that Arthur might have the same idea- water washes things clean, and the force and power of a tsunami was supposed to be terrifying with its destruction and power.
"Arthur, you don't have to do this love!"
Arthur barely turned to look at him.
"What does it matter, then? You hate me in reality. I love you, I can't see myself ever giving up on you, so this seemed to be the most logical answer."
"We can work this out," Eames begged, slogging through the damp sand to reach his side.
Arthur looked at him carefully, as if trying to make a decision. "Either you happen to be my projection of an Eames who gives a damn, or you actually did something as freaking ignorant as following me down here," Arthur's eyes flashed with something that went from curious to alarmed.
"Get out of here!"
Eames stood his ground. "No."
Arthur pulled his gun and pointed it at Eames.
"Eames, I will shoot you. I will shoot you, you will wake up, and we can start over once I wake up, after this."
Eames looked out to the sea and saw it- he remembered his dream, how large the wave was, the color of the water, what it felt like to be completely enveloped inside it- his fear as he drowned.
Of course he had woken up, albeit without a memory of Arthur!
He didn't want to see Arthur go through the same.
"Come back with me Arthur and we can start over together- you don't have to erase me from your memory, darling!"
Arthur's breath caught in his throat. "You can't remember me when you're awake Eames! The last time I even spoke to you, you accused me of making you think you're attracted to me and then, of course, screwing you!"
It broke Eames's heart to see the frustrated tears gather at the corners of the Point Man's eyes.
"Darling, please. I'm trying so hard to piece it together in reality. I think that it's coming back together- but I need you. I really do! So, please just come back with me before-," Eames's voice died in his throat as the shadow began to envelope them.
The sound of the water that was a blue color that was so deep that it was nearly black, the monster wave approaching at a great speed, getting taller and taller, ready to fall on them as they stood helpless on the barren shore.
Eames did the only thing he could think of-
As the wave struck them, he took his final breath of air and pressed his lips firmly against Arthur's, pulling him close and holding him for dear life- not allowing the power of the wave to separate him from Arthur who clung to him just as desperately.
They were spun, thrown, and swallowed down by the force of the water, the wave moving farther up the shore where surely it could destroy houses and inundate the land.
Keeping a firm hold onto Arthur, who had long since sent his gun spinning into the surging waters, they shared that scant bit of oxygen.
But soon, their lungs were aching, the strain was getting to be too much, the urge to just take a deep breath of the water that surrounded them grew near impossible to ignore and-
They opened their eyes. Their clothing was dry. They lay not even a foot apart from one another and when they understood what had occurred, they removed themselves from their spots around Yusuf's PASIV and ripped the needles from their arms. They then moved together to hold one another tightly.
Yusuf, who had been sitting near at hand to watch over the pair, stood up and presented them with something familiar.
It was a framed photo, the same one that Arthur had burned.
He first showed it to Eames who couldn't let himself let go of Arthur.
"Tell me, in the photo," Yusuf said, "Who are you standing with?"
"Arthur!" Eames said immediately. "I'm with Arthur!"
Taking this as a good sign, Yusuf asked the same question of Arthur.
"It's…" Arthur paused and looked closely at the photo. Eames held his breath. He had been so sure that he had saved Arthur with his quick thinking! The timer had to have run out at exactly the right moment…or maybe not? It was going to drive him mad if he didn't find out!
"It's," Arthur began again, turning to look at Eames himself, who he hadn't let go of yet. "The stupid man who wouldn't listen to me when I said to get the hell away from the tsunami."
Eames frowned. "Nothing else? Not a name? Or a fact?"
"Your name is Eames," Arthur said promptly, smiling slyly, "And I'm still deciding if I love you after what you just pulled."
Eames gaped at the Point Man.
"That's not fair. It's not even funny to pretend that you don't remember me! Not after what I had to go through when I got hit by the wave!"
Yusuf stared at their interaction and shook his head.
"After a second dose of the chemical, you retain your memory," The Chemist said pointing first at the Forger, who nodded slowly.
"I guess so. I mean, I held my breath when the water hit us so I didn't drown this time."
Yusuf looked to Arthur. "Well? How did you not die in the wave as well?"
Arthur blushed and shrugged. "Eames was holding my breath too."
There was a silence where Yusuf understood that it was easily one of the more romantic ways to have survived the situation.
"I will be contacting you both, periodically, over the next few weeks. We'll check your memories frequently. I'd ask that you both could keep an eye on one another just in case there is a relapse or it comes to light that a different aspect of your memories has been damaged. Is that going to be a problem?"
Arthur looked at Eames with a raised eyebrow.
Eames smiled his best crooked grin.
"I think that it would be rather beneficial for us to spend some time together- your place, not mine!" Eames said quickly. "I have no idea if the pest problem was ever really taken care of between you both fabricating the letter from the management company, and my management company's general laziness." Eames grinned again. "Besides, you're place has the better shower. And, um, if you recall, darling I would like to find out what else you like. If you get my drift, that is?"
Yusuf was fairly certain that Eames thought he was being clever as he made shoddily veiled comments that probably were about sex while winking at Arthur.
Arthur smiled back. "Perfect. You get to test my food for poison, steal my newspaper, and obnoxiously sing in the car. If you even attempt to insinuate that I'm doing Ariadne or Dom, something unfortunate is going to happen that may or may not include a #2 pencil."
As the two men shook on it, Yusuf frowned- not understanding a single thing the Point Man had just said- well, aside from the threat with the pencil.
Yusuf diverted his attention when the friendly handshake turned into a meeting of the lips as Eames leaned forwards and captured the Point Man as he had been mid-word. Arthur didn't seem to mind that he had been interrupted and returned the kiss full heartedly.
They, it appeared, were going to be just fine.
The one thing that was certain was that Yusuf was going to destroy every sample of that chemical before anything like this could happen again. And while it was wonderful to know that that second exposure to the compound ironed out the Forger's problem (quite possibly by making it as if the trauma of forgetting Arthur didn't exist?) Yusuf wasn't willing to have the chemical on hand for the sake of safety.
Life was crazy enough, Yusuf thought as he believed it was safe to glance over at the pair of dream workers, who for the moment had stopped their kissing and were giving each other some pretty loving glances.
Crazy, Yusuf thought with a shake of his head, but good.
THE END!
A.N- So, it came out a little bit different then I thought it would. Pretty heavy on drama and Eames's bad feelings about Arthur's intentions especially after the sex scene! But, I couldn't help but give this story a quirky happy ending, in which many of the jokes are mentioned again. Just for the sake of fun. So, enjoy, read, and tell me what you guys think in the form of a review!
Thanks a bunch!
-slash mania