DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.
Sorry that this story has been so long forgotten, but I'm trying really focus on finishing Can't Be Dreamers with a bang. Please go check that out if you have the chance. Soon, we shall find out who put the team in the Institute.
"Eames? Eames?"
Eames sat staring at the white, shiny surface of the table with a morbid expression. His eyes were blank, the dark circles under his eyes framing them. Cobb stared opposite the Forger, his eyes searching worriedly over his face.
"Eames, are you okay?" he asked.
Eames blinked. "What do you think, Cobb? Do I look okay?"
Cobb shrugged lazily. "No, but you seem more sadly depressed than normal."
He watched as the man let his head fall slightly, his shoulders tensing in frustration.
"I have to go home, Cobb," Eames sighed.
Cobb exhaled, not wanting to be reminded of the two small children waiting for him at home. Phillipa was 8 now, and James just turning 6. Cobb had hoped that after the Fischer job, he wouldn't miss anymore birthday's. That seemed like a pipe dream now. Phillipa was turning out more and more like her mother, perfectly managing to torture and give Cobb pride at the same time. She had a brilliant young mind. James on the other hand, was more creative and imaginative. An Architect in the making.
"So do I, Eames. I have children who need their father." Cobb frowned. "I wish you'd think about what I have to deal with."
"I know what you have to deal with. Maybe you should do the same," Eames retorted.
Now in a slight rage, Cobb's fist curled around the edge of the pristine table. "No offence, but you seem like the lone type. Who would you have to go back to?" he spat.
"I have a wife who's 4 months pregnant!" Eames snapped. "That's who I have to go back to!"
The two grew silent. Cobb blinked back surprise as the Forger's head quickly ducked down. Cobb began to shake his head.
"...If I didn't believe your crap outside this place, what makes you think that I'll believe it in here?"
Eames shot him a cold glare. "No, Cobb. Unfortunately, I'm not lying." The hostile wall he had built around himself had momentarily fallen to reveal something Cobb had never seen in him before. A vulnerability. "My wife, Fiona, is back in England. She's expecting," he said softly.
Cobb felt sympathy for the Forger. He leaned forward silently. "Eames. I...I didn't know that you-"
"Have a life? Well, I do. I have my ways of getting around Arthur's 'research'." He offered a small smile. "I'm like you Cobb. I have my ways of adjusting things. Just to protect the ones I love."
Cobb had found the small humanity in the man opposite him. Maybe it was the strange circumstances they were in, or maybe it was the fact that each and every one of them were slowly pushing apart from each other, but Cobb regarded Eames as a close friend more than anything else in those moments. He knew what it felt like to be missing a loved one, particularly a wife. Cobb grew stronger about Mal's death everyday, but he still missed her dearly. Eames however, had a wife, a lover, a best friend.
And right then, Cobb knew what his new mission was.
"Eames. I promise, I will get you back to your wife."
Eames sighed. "Cobb, you don't have to make-"
Cobb silenced him by holding up his hand. "You brought me back to my kids. Now it's time to return the favour."
Arthur paced the garden, his mind still sour from the previous day's therapy session.
Over his life, he'd managed to carefully supress his unfortunate memories. He'd spent years creating and perfecting his ability to shield himself from anyone else. That was one of the quirks of being a Point Man. The professional image had attracted him so. He could keep a straight face, stay quiet, and hide emotions perfectly, without anyone suspecting anything otherwise. But over the years, he'd let it slip. He'd begun to let people in. Cobb was first. The Extractor had slowly but surely picked his way through the younger man's mind and emotions, until they'd created a friendship far more supporting than any mere Extractor/Point Man relationship. Then it was Ariadne. The sweet, friendly young woman who'd sucessfully created distractions for Arthur until he could no longer work. He'd confess things to her easily, and the countless hours they'd spend working late in the warehouse, swapping stories and secrets had been carefully stored away in Arthur's mind. Even Eames knew more about Arthur than he'd prefer.
But never his childhood. Never that. That was a time he'd like to take to the grave if possible.
Looking around, he'd noticed how today seemed to be a bad day for the rest of the patients (prisioners). But only one stood out to him. A small, brunette, doe-eyed Architect striding across the grass towards him.
"Hey, Ari-" As she walked up, she threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck. Taken back, he stood silently for a moment before placing his hands on her back, and began rubbing comforting circles. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she mumbled quietly into his clothing. She said nothing, but Arthur (being perceptive as he was), noticed something was clearly wrong. The tiny shakes travelling through her shoulders and the way she was pressing herself so hard into his chest that he was sure she could feel his ribs. He pulled back and placed his hands gently on her arms.
"You're upset," he said simply. "What's wrong?"
Her head tilted up slightly, her bottom lip quivering. He searched her face, seeing a fear that he'd never seen in the Architect. A few moments were filled with nothing but silence until she sighed and let her head fall back into his chest.
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong."
I have no idea where the back story for Eames came from, but I feel like everyone else has one. So, why not? Next chapter, there should be some action.
Please review and let me know what you thought! Thanks!
