Triptych: A Life in Ten Acts
An Inception Fanfic.
Act IX Part Two:
The job was one of the easiest Dom had ever done. Ariadne didn't know this until Dom mentioned the fact, considering that her extraction experience consisted of one entire job. So, naturally, she'd had to ask him why it was so simple when the Inception job had gone so horribly wrong.
"Well, for starters, Mal wasn't there." Dom had twiddled his fingers nervously. They had sat with Eames in a tiny café, and hour after waking. Ariadne had smiled and remained composed so that Dom would continue.
"We had plenty of information to use, thanks to Arthur." Eames had abruptly dropped his spoon, and it had clattered to the floor. He had sheepishly picked it up and Ariadne had thrown him a dirty look. "And of course we had Eames' excellent forgery."
Ariadne had to admit that it was brilliant. Eames had managed, if only for an hour, to forget the previous night's events, and had settled into his role. He was Roger Dalton, a fellow employee and friend of Donald Macomb, a junior executive for the rival phone company, and the unofficial head of the research and design committee. Over several drinks at a bar Ariadne had designed, Roger and Donald had talked. And Eames was his usual brilliant, charming self, managing to get Donald to tell him everything about upcoming projects, as well as plans for the company in general. It never seemed to occur to Donald that the real Roger would already know all of this information.
But then again, he was dreaming.
They had left the still sleeping Donald in the tiny bistro bathroom, two floors below Donald's hotel room.
Now, sitting in the café, they were trying to relax and concede it was a job well done. Ariadne supposed the job was quite simple. Very in and out, and Eames had done most of the work. Dom had simply played waiter and kept supplying drinks to the "employees." Ariadne had not gone under. She had remained with the sleeping forms of the three men, stuck in the tiny bathroom, all four of them tucked into the handicap stall.
Ariadne's knee gave a twinge at the memory.
But once they had finished their tea, and Dom had gone back to the hotel to call Miles and tell him he was headed home, Ariadne sat with Eames and studied him.
"What?"
She realized she was staring intensely and so looked away. "Nothing. Just trying to figure out what I'm going to do to Arthur when I see him."
Eames smiled. But there was not the same joy that once radiated from him. Now it was a simply the curve of his lips, and it didn't reach his eyes. Man he had it bad.
Which was why Ariadne hurried back to the hotel, packed, and then arranged for herself to be aboard the first flight to Chicago. However, the minute the plane landed, she received a text from Eames that nearly broke her heart.
Ari - thanks for seeing to Arthur, but it won't work. I've accepted my lot in life, and he isn't in it. Sorry for the wasted trip. But when you see him, tell him I'm sorry. For everything. It wasn't really worth the effort. I don't think it ever is. Keep in touch, pet. E
After flying all this way, Eames no longer wanted to fight. He was giving up. And Ariadne realized that despite what he had said this morning, he had already made up his mind when he had woken up alone.
.
Arthur returned to Paris one week after the New York job. Dom had called to let him know things went smoothly, and for that he was glad.
He hadn't spoken to Ariadne. She had called a multitude of times, but he had turned off the phone. He had a new suit made by his favorite tailor on Michigan Avenue, but even the shopping and the glamor of Chicago couldn't help him shake the feeling that something was wrong.
He should be happy. He'd gotten his lust for Mr. Eames out of his system, and then had pulled off one of the best revenge plans in history, without actually knowing he was doing it at the time. But there was a burning in the pit of his stomach that wouldn't give him peace.
So he flew back to Paris, both to pick up his stuff, and also to see where things stood with Ariadne.
The minute he stepped through the front door, he knew he was in trouble.
She didn't say a word; just sat in the little leather chair by the television. She was facing the door, and her eyes bored into him. She was wearing her lounge pants, with a purple t-shirt, as though she was preparing for a nice, relaxing day in. On her face, however, she wore a scowl.
Her eyes tracked his movements as Arthur sat down his suitcase by the door, and removed his suit jacket. He made to go to the bedroom, but she cleared her throat loudly, and with a sharp jerk of her head, gestured for him to sit on one of the kitchen bar stools near the door.
"I suppose you think you're clever," she began, once he had been seated. It was not what he had been expecting to hear.
"What?"
She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. "Oh, I think I'll enact the perfect revenge by leaving the man who loves me dearly just so that I can feel better about myself. Is that what you thought? Because that's pretty fucking messed up, Arthur."
"He did it to me-"
"So?" Her eyebrows were almost disappearing into her faux bangs which she had always said she was going to try, but never got around to. "That makes it okay? Jesus, Arthur, the man loves you!"
Arthur swallowed heavily, and his fingers twitched. He wanted to speak; knew he should be defending himself. But the heavy hurt in his stomach prevented him from voicing his opinion. The pain in his chest wanted him to sit there and take what Ariadne was dishing out: the truth. He deserved every word she was saying.
"He's apologized so many fucking times! How many more, Arthur? How many more before you realize he's serious? Whatever he's told you since the first time you made love, is a lie. He meant what he said then, he loves you!"
Arthur balled his hands into fists. The ache in his chest was spreading. Now he heard blood rushing in his ears, Ariadne's figure swam in front of his eyes. He tried to focus in on what she was saying, but it was as if he'd gone deaf.
"Are you listening to what I'm saying? God, Arthur, I never took you for some cruel asshole, but I've been wrong before. Remember that movie we saw a few months ago? I was wrong about it Arthur. You're the one who's leaving someone behind. And, God, Arthur I don't want you to look back at your life and regret that you let him go!" She was crying now, overcome with emotion. But she wasn't sobbing. The tears simply leaked from her eyes and tumbled gracefully down her pale cheeks.
"Do you know what he said to me? He thinks he deserves to be treated like crap. Because all his life he's acted like he's above people; he's treated his lovers like crap. But now the one person he loves couldn't care less about him!"
Arthur swallowed again, and tried to clear the lump from his throat. When he spoke, it came out as just above a whisper, and it took Ariadne a moment to realize he had spoken at all. "He said that?"
"I'm paraphrasing a little." She let out a laugh that was cracked by a sob. It was an interesting sound. Arthur couldn't help the tiny smile on his lips either. "But he loves you, Arthur. He's loved you since the moment he met you. You changed him from some asshole that goes from lover to lover, fleeing the permanent, to someone who actually wanted to stay. To stay with you."
"I know."
"What?"
"I know he loves me. I believed him the first time." He avoided her eyes, but she searched for them anyways.
"Then why did you leave him?" She stood, and carefully tread towards him, stooping slightly to look up into his face. She clasped his hands in hers, and waited for the answer she already knew.
"Because I love him." She smiled, and waited until he opened his eyes.
"I know."
He gazed at her, his face full of so many emotions she couldn't pinpoint just one. She wiped the tears from her own cheeks, and then wrapped her arms around him in a giant bear hug.
Her next words came out in a whisper, and she murmured them straight into his ear, to be sure he heard them and understood their meaning.
"But he doesn't. You need to fix that." She pulled away, and then pulled out a plane ticket.
"You need to go visit Eames." She straightened out her shirt, and patted his hair back into place from where she had mussed it hugging him. "He's in Mombasa with Yusuf. Make this right, Arthur. You two have waited far too long to accept the truth right in front of you."
She placed the ticket into his hands, and as he wrapped his fingers around it, accepting it, the heaviness in his chest eased a little.
It was time for him to put away all the labels he had unwillingly accumulated over the past few years. Fool. Coward. Asshole.
And it was time to finally accept the one label he found acceptable. The one that fit him best.
Lover.
A/N: Okay people, we're in the home stretch now! Only one more Act left? Will Arthur and Eames work everything out and be together? Why is Ariadne so damn supportive? Will Dom ever figure out what's going on?
Review and let me know what you hope the story will end with! What would you love to see happen?
Also, kudos to anyone who can tell me why the story name is Triptych.
Inception is the property of Christopher Nolan.
Until next time, thanks for reading!
sl
