Shades of Gray

by OneWhoSitsWithTheTurtles

After Inception, the team splits up. Arthur takes on a private job but is betrayed and forced to lock down his subconscious, dropping him into a coma. In the war-torn world of Arthur's mind, will Eames be able to save Arthur before he slips away forever? Arthur/Eames

14. Part XIV: Cobb

Part XIV. Cobb

Cobb stepped into the hospital room slowly, concerned about walking in on his two former team members and interrupting something. The room was dark and silent when the door clicked shut behind him though, except for the methodological beeping of the machine Arthur was hooked up to. Feeling like an intruder on a private moment, Cobb made his way as quietly as he could towards his chair and makeshift bed. Although he could have gotten accommodations at a nearby hotel while Arthur was under, he had been unwilling to be far from the man's bedside in case something happened.

The Extractor took his seat unhurriedly, muscles protesting the return of the uncomfortable chair moulding his back, arms and legs to its unyielding shape. He slipped his mobile phone back into his jacket pocket idly as he glanced over the mass of blankets that was Arthur's hospital bed. He could see the Point Man's soft black hair, tousled affectionately, and his relaxed face. Cobb could also see the Forger's light brown hair sticking out noticeably from the crook of Arthur's neck. Even though the rest of the dream workers' forms were covered by the hotel blankets, Cobb thought he could make out the distinctive shape of an arm wound securely around Arthur's waist.

He couldn't stop the small amused smile that curled his lips upwards as Cobb glanced down at his hands, which were resting in his lap. He pulled his phone back up and began fidgeting with it to keep his hands busy as a whirlwind of thoughts cropped up at the sight of Eames curled protectively around Arthur while they both slept peacefully for the first time in days – or, if Cobb was right about their feelings before this incident, since they had parted ways after Inception. He was grateful that the two had finally gotten over their stubbornness and fears and admitted their feelings for one another; it saved the rest of the team from the avid desire to lock them in a room together until they figured it out. It was also relieving to know that both of his friends and teammates were back in reality and safe, and knowing that they would do everything in their power to keep one another safe.

Things had changed so much since he had first met Arthur, a young, unattached man just out of university. He had clearly been running from something, whether that something was physical or in his mind, but Arthur had been too distant and skilled at what he did to warrant any questions he didn't feel like answering. Dom still remembers watching Arthur from afar, wondering how he had had the misfortune of getting this...this kid as a mark. And then Arthur had swiftly and efficiently taught the Extractor to never judge a person by their appearance. Dom had taken him under his wing – with a little struggling here and there - and introduced him to dream work, gave the kid something to direct his talents on while also providing a means of escapism that wouldn't have Arthur running away into dangerous territory.

He had done his best to be a friend and brother to the new dream worker despite the fact that Arthur seemed to do everything in his power to show he was fine on his own. He had eventually warmed up to Cobb in his own way, but everything had changed when Mal had committed suicide. Arthur had done his best to pick up the pieces and help him move on, and that was when Dom had really started to make his mistakes.

After Mal was gone he hadn't known what to do with himself. The only thing keeping him stable and focused was Arthur, doing his best to help the Extractor return to his children. It had been wonderful in a way – Arthur was very protective of those who gained his trust despite looking as friendly as a thorn bush – but also heartbreaking; it just reminded him of what he had lost. His reliance on the man had grown though, as had his contempt and bitterness for that reliance. When Cobb had finally returned to his children, how had he repaid Arthur? By cutting him out of his life. What a fantastic coward he had turned out to be.

There was also a pinch of jealousy in his heart as he watched the two sleeping dream workers. Memories of Mallorie, of their years together as a couple and then with their children began swarming back en mass. A part of him hated it all, wondering why he had lost the love of his life and Arthur had just managed to find his other half to create their bizarrely unique whole. But Dom forced himself to swallow all of these sad, angry thoughts down. It would not solve anything, and he knew that both Arthur and Eames deserved it – deserved each other, finally. Cobb could watch their love bloom and be happy for them, because at least he still had his children back – thanks to Arthur, yet again.

The thought of his children had him flipping his phone open, but when he took note of the electronic clock on his phone's main screen, he flipped it closed again. His children and Melissa were all undoubtedly asleep at this late hour. He slipped his mobile back into his pocket to ensure it wasn't broken, promising himself that he would have his children in his arms again soon, and settled back in his chair. A few minutes passed with the lulling sounds of even breathing and measured beeps as he searched for a comfortable position on the chair. But as soon as he found it, his eyes were slipping closed to take advantage of as much sleep as he could get before the bustle of a new day arrived in a few hours.

When he was woken a few hours later, he blamed the sun sneaking through the windows and into his eyes as it peaked over the roofs of a few buildings in the near distance. He rubbed sleep from his eyes as he stretched out his cramped muscles, yawning tiredly. As he settled back down, hoping maybe for another hour or two of sleep before Dr. Maxwell would no doubt come back in and demand Arthur and Eames undergo their tests, he paused for a moment. He had not been quiet when he first woke up so he knew Eames was aware of him, but that did not seem to be stopping the man from leaning up on his left elbow and petting Arthur's mussed hair with his right. Eames was smiling lovingly down at Arthur each time the Point Man gave tiny sighs of happiness and snuggled closer to him in response to the touches.

They looked perfect together, moulded against one another as if they had been made to fit despite all of their odd quirks and issues. The sunlight filtering in through the window helped as well, lighting up Eames's eyes while bathing Arthur's skin with a healthy glow Dom hadn't seen in far too long. Eames met his gaze overtop of Arthur and Dom did his best not to glance away, guilty for having been caught. But the Forger just sent him a proud, slightly possessive smile and returned his gaze to Arthur's sleeping form, face softening immediately.

The moment didn't last long, Eames still yawning near constantly. Dom watched as Eames eventually reinserted himself against Arthur's back, threaded the fingers of his right hand between Arthur's again, and lay back down against the mattress. It wasn't long before he could hear the other man's breathing even out and slowly match Arthur's pace – they were nearly in sync with one another in sleep. With a small smile of his own, Cobb managed to doze again once the sun was out of his eyes.

The next time he woke up, Dom felt much more rested than he had since he had received the phone call from Dr. Maxwell. Some of his anxiety over his friends' safety had finally begun to slip away now that he knew they were both in reality and – more or less – intact. He saw no sign of the doctor when he glanced around the room, which looked very large now that three of the beds had been removed, but the sound of whispers still caught his attention. He groaned in confusion and sat up fully in his chair, looking for the source of the noise.

Arthur was lying on his back now, glaring up with pursed lips at Eames, who had resumed leaning on his left arm while on his side, looking down at Arthur's face with a similar look of challenging determination. "And I'm telling you, pet, that changing out of the hospital pyjamas and into a suit is pointless. You're going to be here for at least one more night while they check you over and wait for the test results. Sleeping in a suit will not be comfortable and you probably shouldn't move more than you have to anyway."

"You slept in...those," Arthur raked his gaze with disdain down Eames's form and back up to his unshaven face, looking aghast at the thought of calling the attire a suit.

"I never said I was comfortable," Eames reminded the man, looking slightly exasperated.

"Then you should take the pyjamas and I'll change into a suit," Arthur retaliated, stubborn as ever. Dom knew that the frequency of clashes between the two dream workers would not diminish now that they had come together as a couple. In fact, they would probably begin arguing more. They were both stubborn and determined, but they also knew how to fight; he wasn't concerned about them because he knew they were skilled at arguing in a way that riled them up but delivered results. The issues only arrived when a couple argued in circles without ever coming across a solution. That, and Dom knew Arthur and Eames respected one another greatly, both as professionals and individuals, so he was sure they would not fall into destructive fighting.

"Why are you so set on getting back into a suit?" the question was paired with a small shiver from Arthur when Eames brushed his lips and rough stubble against the Point Man's ear. "Maybe I like you like this, looking comfy and at ease."

"After everything..." Dom heard Arthur trail off for a moment, clearing his throat. "I need something that I had before all of this began. Some staple that will help me feel like myself so that I can be at ease as I deal with this. That," he continued, "and I refuse to trot around the hospital to my tests in something as horrendous as what they deem suitable for patients here."

"I like them," Eames teased mercilessly. He raised his free hand that had previously been tracing leisured designs across Arthur's skin through the fabric of the hospital shirt, plucking at the fabric while feigning curiosity. "I think the blue stripes suit you." There was a moment of silence where Dom couldn't quite see what was going on, but then he heard Eames coo down at Arthur. "Aww, darling, you're blushing!"

"Shut up!" Arthur snapped with a groan, purposefully rolling away to look away from the Forger with only a quiet grunt of pain at the exertion. "I'm not some kitten for you to cuddle and tease after it got scared by a shadow."

"It's not my fault you purr, love," Eames chuckled as he followed the other man's retreat, sprawling his body over Arthur's as much as he dared.

"I do not...purr," the protests from Arthur's mouth trailed away for a moment, losing their bite when Eames began nuzzling his neck and petting his hair again. There was another long, expectant moment of silence, and then a blissed-out sigh escaped from Arthur's lips.

Feeling like an intruder once again and knowing he would be unable to escape without the two dream workers realizing he was now awake, Dom cleared his throat somewhat apologetically. Arthur's eyes flashed open to pinpoint the source of the sound, elbowing Eames away slightly as he leaned up on his hands for a better look. Despite what Arthur argued, the man truly had the reflexes of a feline, and was nearly as skittish. It was almost disconcerting having those sharp brown eyes rest on him, assessing him for threats for the briefest flash of a second. The look was only broken when Arthur gave a small whine of pain and settled back onto the mattress, massaging his wrists with a wince. Cobb was disappointed to note that even though Arthur had not looked at him as an enemy, the man had definitely not completely relaxed.

"Here, doll," Eames had pulled himself into a half seated position now, leaning back against the section of the mattress you could adjust to a certain angle. "Let me."

Eames reached for Arthur's wrists but got his hands slapped away before he could do much good. Dom was thankful that the glare Eames received had not been sent towards him as Arthur silently pulled himself up into his own seated position. It was clear that the lithe man was still in some form of pain even though he had been out of the dreamscape for at least half a day now. He wondered whether it was psychosomatic or if the enemy dream workers had actually managed to scar some part of Arthur's subconscious that would keep the pain there. He hoped that it would fade with time, and not just because he knew Arthur would go insane if he was confined to a bed for long; Arthur had spent most of his life running, so staying idle was never met with approval.

"It's fine," Arthur hedged, "They don't actually hurt that much."

"Bullshit," Eames huffed as he made another careful grab for the Point Man's narrow wrists. Arthur narrowed his eyes in annoyance but didn't speak again as he watched Eames begin massaging one and then the other wrist skilfully. "After what Louis did..." Cobb's interest peaked with the angry scoff from the Forger as he focused his attention on Arthur's skin. "I know you're accustomed to being independent and taking care of yourself, darling," Eames spoke calmly, ceaseless in his movements. "But I wish you'd let me help you. There's no sense getting embarrassed when it's just us here with you; everyone needs help sometimes."

"Exactly, Arthur," Dom cut in quickly, trying not to sound like they were trying to gang up on the other man but wanting Arthur to finally let go of the barriers he had in place to keep everyone else away. Far away. "We're both here to help you and we won't think any less of you if it takes some time for you to recover from this."

Arthur looked over at him but dropped his gaze to the blankets when Dom attempted to meet his gaze. It seemed like the other man was incapable of holding his eyes at the moment, which was bizarre in itself. In the past, if Cobb had screwed up, he could be sure Arthur would confront him about it. "Speaking of helping," Arthur spoke the word as if it left an unappealing taste on his tongue. "Tell me everything. How long have we been asleep? What happened to the others?"

Two sets of curious eyes landed on him then, hardened by the experiences that the two had just endured together. He informed both of them what Dr. Maxwell had told him when he had first called and arrived at the hospital, explaining quickly since Eames had already been told the same information and Arthur looked restless and impatient. Eames had continued massaging Arthur's wrists while he listened, while Arthur seemed to have entirely forgotten about the contact once he was focusing on Dom's words. Unfortunately, it seemed like the physical contact and massages were doing a lot less to soothe the man now that Arthur was fully conscious and aware of the reality around him.

"The hospital found the key card for your hotel in your jacket pocket and the hotel had your stuff sent here once they were contacted," he continued to explain. Arthur seemed somewhat pleased to hear that all of his personal effects were with Dr. Maxwell, most likely to be relinquished when the doctor returned today for testing. But the news still did very little to brighten the storm cloud that Arthur's face had become as Dom continued to relay information to the two dream workers; pale skin seemed to almost go translucent and deep frown lines caught shadows as the sun rose higher into the sky. "You were under for nearly three days, which is lucky since they weren't expecting you to last much longer under the strain. How..." he trailed off, wondering how to word his questions about the dreamscape, "How long was it for you?"

Arthur was sitting as still as a statue, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he stared down at his lap while Cobb spoke. His awareness of the reality around him seemed to be fading slightly, quieting the man considerably. Arthur was a relatively silent individual when he was acting normal, always lost in his thoughts and withdrawing himself from those around him, but this was a new type of silence. Just by looking at him, it seemed clear that there was some sort of weight resting on the man's shoulders, holding and binding him down. Arthur seemed listless in his silence, lacking the determination and goals that had always driven him forward. It was almost as though Arthur was lost so deeply in his own thoughts that he didn't know how to connect to Dom and Eames anymore. Like his experience down in the dreamscape had caged him in a dark corner of his subconscious where light simply couldn't shine.

"A little over a week," Arthur finally spoke, seemingly unaware of how long it had taken him to answer Dom's question. The Extractor did not miss the worried sidelong glance Eames sent his new partner, no doubt sensing a similar weight pulling Arthur into a downward spiral. "What happened to the others?" the question was forcefully calm, though there was an angry edge to the words.

"Well, they all woke up, Louis just a short time before Eames, with their memories completely wiped," he explained, unsure of how to break the news. Arthur was radiating hatred and guilt in equal amounts, right leg tucked closer to him while his left one remained straight out on the bed. "Dr. Maxwell and the nurses panicked when Nikolas woke up in that condition but they were slightly more prepared to deal with the results when Amelina and Louis woke up later." He did his best to recall how the medical staff had responded to the bizarre memory loss, and how they had cast increasingly hopeless glances at Arthur and Eames when the others had woken up in that state. "They were almost positive you two wouldn't wake up, at least not with your memory, by the time the others had woken up. From what I know, they got taken for some tests to assess their condition, get a brain scan, and see a psychiatrist."

Arthur nodded slowly, as if this was all old news. "If they haven't yet, the doctors will soon realize they'll need to begin teaching the dream workers anew as though they were infants. Nikolas should be fine..." the man's voice was quiet and thoughtful, calculated as he worked through whatever was running through his head. "He's still young enough for the knowledge to take. I don't know how Amelina and Louis will manage though...their brains are past their prime for learning..."

"Don't blame yourself, love," Eames chimed in a moment later, once Arthur had drifted back into his thoughts and was giving no clear indication of re-emerging anytime soon.

"I don't," Arthur spoke through clenched teeth, gently tugging his hands away from Eames to rub his temples tiredly. But then the man's face fell into his palms, heels digging in against his cheekbones. It looked like Arthur was just resting, but Dom had a sinking suspicion with the man's curled white knuckles that he was pressing hard enough for it to hurt.

"It was us or them, darling," Eames spoke again, wrapping an arm delicately around narrow shoulders. Dom felt useless as he imposed upon the moment, frozen as he relived his guilt over altering Mal's mind while watching the Point Man struggle.

"That doesn't make it right, Eames!" Arthur snapped, voice harsh in the quiet hospital room.

The large man recoiled slightly as Arthur shrugged his arm away. Eames took a deep breath, probably searching for patience. "I didn't say it was right, Arthur," he heard the other man attempt to reason, "but they were the ones who attacked you. It's your right to fight for your own life."

"But I went down into that dream ready to steal information from Louis's mind," Arthur retaliated, body tensing up noticeably on the bed. "How is that any better? Any more ethical? Because I get paid, rather than calling it an accident?" Arthur was practically snarling now, more livid than Dom had ever seen him. He could tell the dream worker was on the verge of breaking, the air around him practically vibrating with upset tension. He could see his own surprise and confusion echoed in Eames's face, both of them wondering if this was hinting at Arthur quitting dream work. The Point Man was the best at what he did and loved his job; would he really give it up?

"Arthur," he spoke as soothingly as he could manage, pushing himself out of his chair slowly. He approached the bed carefully as Arthur's attention whirled on him, eyes razor sharp and furious. "I understand what you're feeling after what I did to Mal, seriously," he pressed when the other man gave a sceptical look.

"I am no longer your prodigy, fit for moulding only to be cast aside when I fail to meet your version of perfection, Dominic," the way his name spilled off the man's tongue had him flinching backwards. Before he or Eames could react to that, the words and tone so completely out of character for the man he thought he had known so well, Arthur was hoisting himself up and over the edge of the bed after precisely ripping out his IV. Just as quickly as Arthur had pulled himself over the edge of the mattress, his left leg crumpled beneath his new weight and the man went down with a frustrated curse. "Stupid fucking leg," Arthur continued to swear under his breath as he grappled for the bed frame to hoist himself back up, sending Dom a deadly glare when he moved to help. "Just leave me alone! Both of you! I can do this on my own!"

By this point, Eames had rushed out of bed to crouch by Arthur's side, toppling backwards onto his ass when he was shoved away from helping. He admired the man's clear love and adoration when Eames simply picked himself back up and shuffled closer to Arthur on his knees. By this point Arthur had given up on trying to get himself back up and had abandoned himself to the cold floor. Dom guessed Arthur would have managed to stand and walk on his left leg if he had not rushed it, but now the weight and angle necessary to get up would be too much. The Point man was not crying; he simply had his forehead resting on his right knee, which was tucked up against his chest.

"Arthur," Eames spoke seriously but soothingly, settling on his knees and gently gripping Arthur's chin between his fingers to draw the man's gaze upward. "I love you." Even Dom shivered at the weight put behind each of those words; Arthur blushed and tried to look away, but didn't seem terribly upset when Eames kept a careful grasp on his chin. He watched as Eames's thumb stroked whatever skin he could reach, trying to calm Arthur down from his feral moment. "Do you know what that entails?"

"Eames..." Arthur seemed to whine, fighting the man's hold with minimal force while Dom stood a short distance away awkwardly.

"It means that I adore you, and trust you, and will do everything in my power to make you happy and safe. I understand that you are used to running and relying only on yourself, even if I don't know all of the reasons for that yet. But I want to know. I want to understand. And then I want to help you move on." Cobb was utterly astounded at Eames's words. He had always known the man had a soft spot for Arthur, always bringing him coffee and sweets despite the lack of necessity or reciprocation. But he had never imagined the man leaving himself so vulnerable as he opened himself up to Arthur and gave up everything just to make his companion content.

"I want to move on," Arthur sighed, finally leaning into the touch of the Forger's deft fingers on his skin and sparking all the right nerve endings. "I want to confront my past. I want to."

"You said you love me too, Arthur." Dom blinked and glanced between his two teammates at those words, again shocked. Arthur, the aloof, poised, independent Point Man had openly admitted love towards the previous 'bane of his existence'? He had never quite held the hope that Arthur would figure out what it was he actually wanted – recognize his true feelings for the British man. "Did that change between the dream and reality? Was I dreaming?"

"No, Eames," Arthur shook his head quickly, hair falling into disarray. "I love you. I've loved you since..." those dark eyes blinked and narrowed for a moment. "I don't know how long. But it's not going to change."

Eames nodded and leaned closer, keeping his balance with one hand on the bed frame while the other tilted Arthur's face to the side so that their lips could brush. Once again, Dom felt like a trespasser but couldn't leave; now that Arthur was beginning to calm down again with Eames's sweet touches, he really had to speak his mind. "Then will you let me be there for you, love?" the request was tentative, ready to retreat and try again at a later moment if there was an ill response. "You are already dealing with so much, Arthur. Just let that shame and guilt about appearing weak in front of me fall away, because I'm the person you can be entirely open around."

"I don't understand, Eames," Arthur confessed, dropping his gaze to the tiled floor. "Why?"

Arthur's eyes were drawn up again to meet Eames with the fingers beneath his chin. "You're not really living up to your intelligence," the man quipped, trying to bring more humour back into the sombre atmosphere. "I love all of you, which includes those weaknesses, oddities and quirks that make you who you are."

It was like magic. There was no other way to describe what Cobb had just witnessed. The exchange of words and promises had been far more mushy and sentimental than Arthur would normally endure. It was so hard to explain how you felt about someone and justify your reasoning for wanting to help someone without going over the top and making the confession seem corny. In any other situation, he would have been mocking Eames's romanticized words and Arthur would most likely have stalked away, embarrassed by this point. But this time it was perfect – exactly what needed to be said. The weight he had seen weighing down the other man, curling his shoulders, neck and back forward, seemed to suddenly lighten. It was as though Eames had carefully extracted one of many blocks of weight that would need to be dealt with over the next while with great care. It was clear that both of his teammates were aware of the improvement as well, no further words on the topic necessary for the understanding between Arthur and Eames to be clarified. They knew.

"Arthur," Cobb began as strongly as he could manage, knowing he had to say what was on his mind even though he didn't wish to spoil the moment. Both dream workers glanced over at him when he crouched down by Arthur's right side in order to leave room for Eames, who had begun massaging Arthur's left shin and ankle. Arthur finally met his gaze for a more normal length of time. "After Mal died because I altered her mind, I did a lot of thinking about our profession because it is anything but ethical. At first I could only hate myself for my choices and blame myself. I still do," he admitted quietly. "But then I began to realize that dream work did not always have to be bad; we could use it to help people. Remember that woman in Athens who had been raped? We found her attacker and helped her confront her fears and nightmares."

"That still doesn't give us the right to decide what is right and wrong," Arthur countered, voice more level now. He seemed to be mellowing out as Eames massaged his left calf as gently as he could manage. "Tyson...I don't know if I ruined his life or liberated him, gave him a second chance. Who am I to decide?"

"Tyson?" Eames prompted encouragingly, looking confused and unsure despite a flash of recognition in those eyes focused on Arthur's own brown ones.

"The first person I did this to," Dom listened as Arthur retold the story, words laced with a biting guilt. "At first I thought I had done the right thing in the end when I read the news clippings about him being adopted into a better family and being given a second chance. But then Louis forged him and told me that I had no right in deciding what was right for the teen. He said I had actually put him in a worse position the second time around."

"But Louis was saying these things," he stated cautiously, trying to grasp what had truly happened down there in the dreamscape from the few snippets he gathered with Arthur's talking. "He was just saying whatever would upset you most, I assume."

"It doesn't matter," Arthur shook his head sadly, meeting his gaze again. "He was right; I don't have the right to determine what is best for someone. What if that woman in Athens would have been better off if we had not submerged her back into her deepest fear and reintroduced those thoughts to her?"

"Darling," Eames spoke under his breath, drawing Arthur's eyes to him slowly. "You're the best Point Man in the world; the most apt man I know. Once we get out of this hospital, why don't you do some research on Tyson for yourself? Not just the news clippings this time, but truly confront your past the way I know you wish to – the way I know you can." Dom watched somewhat protectively as Eames skimmed his lips over Arthur's jaw for a moment; it wasn't sexual, but rather managed to cause Arthur's anxiety to melt further away from his initial outburst. He knew he didn't have the right to be protective of Arthur after hurting him and treating him so poorly, but he couldn't help it. Though he doubted he had anything to worry about with Eames by Arthur's side.

He watched Arthur curiously as the man shivered and relaxed at the contact, silent as he considered the Forger's words. And then he gave a mental sigh of relief when Arthur nodded strongly, chocolate eyes still caught up with Eames's eyes, which never strayed. "Beyond what my past self was too scared to know, and beyond what my enemy suggested to my subconscious. I need to know...And then I need to promise myself never to use those barriers again."

The desire to ask more about the dreamscape seemed heavy and unbearable, chipping away at his resolve. Finally, with all of the random bits of information regarding the encounter, Dom felt his resolve crumble. "What happened down there?" he asked both dream workers, not entirely sure if they had been together for the whole time or whether they had been forced to split up.

Arthur began retelling what he had experienced during his duration in the dreamscape, pausing occasionally or drifting through horrible descriptions in a monotone as though he were reading a dull script. It was quite clear that even though Eames had managed to draw out Arthur's trust in him, Cobb was still on probation. He could understand the man's hesitance to divulge the secrets of his tortured subconscious to him, who had disappointed and abandoned Arthur far more times than deserved forgiveness. He could tell that there were some aspects of the encounter that Arthur did not even wish to tell Eames, curling in on himself further as though he wished to disappear.

He could see the look of fury and heartbreak he knew was on his face reflected in Eames's face, jaw clenched and lips downturned. Arthur was meticulous in his description of how he arrived down in the dream, what had happened when the three enemy dream workers had turned on him, and how he had begun to plan his retaliation. This was what he was skilled at – planning, strategizing, and sharing these details in a cohesive manner – and Dom had no doubt that Arthur was approaching this section of his story as though he were reading his notes on a previous job, detached and callous.

However, when the planning stages of the encounter passed into the more painful and emotional moments of the dream, Arthur's explanations began to taper off. There were some holes in the story where it was clear Eames had been in a different section of the dreamscape, but the Point Man did not pause long enough to give the other man a chance to speak. It was likely that Arthur might just lose his motivation and drive to speak if he was interrupted, which he and Eames carefully worked around. When Arthur explained how it had affected him when the dream workers had tortured and extracted information from his projections and how tiring it had been to maintain the projections, Cobb wanted to gather his friend up into his arms. Eames beat him to it though, wrapping his arms around Arthur's shoulders and pulling him against his side.

He nearly cried when Arthur admitted that Nikolas, Amelina and Louis had attacked him in order to gain knowledge about how to complete inception and his team members during that job. The dream worker described the experience as though he were explaining a surgery gone wrong, detail almost medical as he described the more gruesome forms of torture. Beyond the fact of hearing that his friend had suffered such physical pain, it was difficult to swallow the knowledge that Arthur had experienced this in order to keep others – keep them - safe. This was not just an issue of Arthur choosing to work with the wrong people because he had been dealing with his past and feelings poorly. Dom had no doubt that the three enemy dream workers had specifically caught the Point Man's attention, dancing around him at a distance until they thought they had a viable chance of success.

Arthur had suffered – been broken – to keep his former team members, the people who had abandoned him even if they hadn`t realized what they were doing, safe. Cobb himself could understand how he and his other team members had made the mistake, heartlessly assuming that Arthur was distant and independent naturally and would not be hurt when they moved on with their lives and left him behind. He had thought Arthur would be happy to have Dom stop relying on him for information and support, that he was doing the man a favour when he cut Arthur out of his and his children`s life. It was only now as he sat and watched the man struggle with the attack on his subconscious that he began feeling nauseous as his stomach twisted into guilty knots; he finally realized how truly wrong he had been. And not only had Arthur experienced more pain than Dom thought possible, Arthur had won over Louis; he had never broken and compromised his former team members.

He found it hard to swallow as Arthur admitted Louis's final attempt to extract the information from him. Dom knew Arthur wasn`t telling him everything, but he found himself either unable or unwilling to push for more information. Despite his curiosity, he did not want to push the man over the edge again or overstep his bounds. But beyond that, Cobb truly did not know whether he would be capable of handling knowledge of the full scope of Arthur`s torture; he wouldn`t know how to respond or deal with that information. "...he forged Tyson and Eames...and you, Dom..." Arthur admitted, glancing up at him nervously.

"Me..." Dom whispered, almost disbelieving, not wanting to believe the other man's words. "What...what did Louis say as me?"

"It doesn't matter anymore, Cobb," Arthur tried to brush the topic away, already appearing as though he regretted his decision to tell him that the enemy forger had used his persona to hurt Arthur.

"Of course it matters!" he ground out through clenched teeth, still aware of the invisible barrier between himself and Arthur. What had Louis said to cause this, or would this same avoidance have been apparent without this encounter if the two dream workers had simply visited one another? He watched as Arthur bit his lip, internally debating with himself. Then the man, suddenly looking much younger than him, muttered something dejected under his breath. Eames's eyes widened at the words, close enough to hear, and Dom felt his heart clench painfully. "What was that?"

"You—I mean Louis said that I couldn't be trusted to do anything right, not to betray the team and flee when things went wrong." Dom was halfway to speaking, ready to remind Arthur that those words were obviously incorrect, but Arthur spoke over him with a hard voice. "You said you made the right choice in cutting me out of your life to protect your children. You...you said..." Arthur was physically and emotionally withdrawing from them now, curling in on himself as his face became edged with pained frown lines. "No one could ever love me. I was poison."

"That's bullshit, Arthur!" he snapped angrily, a new hatred boiling up inside him at the mere thought of Louis. Arthur might still be feeling guilt for what happened to the man, but Dom wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't slit the man's throat in his sleep later that day after what he had heard. Unfortunately, he forgot himself in the moment with the knowledge, raising his voice and moving towards Arthur to embrace him or...something; he didn't even know what he could do to help his friend get past those words. With a choked off sob, Arthur scrambled away from him as best he could, jostling the bed frame loudly. Dom immediately froze, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender, and dropped the volume of his voice. His horror was evident in his words as they fell off his tongue even though he didn't want to know the answer. "Did he hurt you as me?"

The way Arthur was curled up was answer enough. The man's back was bowed forward over the rest of his body with his right arm holding his right knee close for protection. At the same time, Arthur's left arm was wrapped awkwardly around his side and spread across as much of his back as he could manage, fighting off further phantom attacks. Dom watched as violent tremors flowed over Arthur's form, devastated at the vision before him. What had Louis done? "Eames," Arthur's voice broke on the name as he struggled for air, blinking away tears. Dom hated that the Point Man had not only experienced this once, but was now being forced to relive the torture. "Am I bleeding?"

The Forger was there in a flash, covering the few inches of space Arthur had created between them before giving up on movement. "Where, darling? Your back?" Cobb put a few extra inches between himself and Arthur, not wanting to cause anymore flashbacks. The realization that he legitimately terrified Arthur was heartbreaking, and he couldn't help but wonder if this could have been avoided if he had stayed in the business, or at least stayed in touch with Arthur to potentially steer him away from these enemy dream workers. While these destructive thoughts swirled around his head, he watched as Arthur nodded weakly and Eames carefully pulled the back of his shirt up slightly to check for any manifested damage. "There's nothing physically here, Arthur."

"Don't touch it," Arthur flinched away when Eames attempted to skim his fingers across the smooth expanse of exposed skin. "God, it hurts."

"What can I do, love? What can I do?" Eames kept asking again and again, frantic with his concern but trying to turn it into something productive. But Arthur was merely shaking his head and pulling away further, muttering 'nothing, nothing, nothing' again and again under his breath, sounding forsaken.

After what felt like an eternity, feeling like he himself was experiencing Arthur's pain as the man expressed it so openly, Arthur finally began to calm somewhat. He didn't pull away anymore when Eames brushed cautionary fingers over bare skin, aiming to massage away the pain as he had been doing before. And Arthur, for all of his intelligence, began apologizing to him. "It's not your fault, Dom. Please don't blame yourself. I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything..."

"The fault is mine, Arthur. Mine and Nikolas, Amelina and Louis's," Cobb refuted immediately, inching closer again as the other man's exhausted eyes turned on him. "You have always been my friend and the closest thing I've ever had to a brother. I care about you dearly but I have made so many mistakes. I am the one who should be apologizing, Arthur," he continued to edge closer when he did not receive any adverse reactions to his increased proximity. "And I do apologize with my whole heart."

Arthur was blinking at him in confusion, probably too lost in his memories of his torture to comprehend such conflicting messages. "You're having one of your dense moments, darling," Eames kissed Arthur's neck comfortingly, the only skin he could really reach at Arthur's odd angle of sitting, turned away from both of them slightly. The words were not mocking or insulting; Eames was just trying to help Arthur return to his former self – the Arthur who would be able to assess Louis's words critically and scoff, brushing them off with a bored eye roll.

"I distanced myself from you after Inception because I hated myself, Arthur," Dom admitted, feeling a small ounce of relief at finally speaking the words aloud. "I was so jealous of you for being so strong, and so angry at myself for not being able to take care of myself. I have always trusted you Arthur, more than you know, and I value your determination to stick by a friend's side until the bitter end." He took a deep breath, seeing a flicker of awareness in those eyes as Arthur finally took his words in consciously. Dom just hoped he could say the right words. "James and Phillipa adore you, and there is no one I would trust with them more than you. I know you enough to know you would do everything in your power to protect them as though they were your own. You aren't poison, Arthur," he shook his head, a few tears spilling from his eyes when he clenched his eyes closed at the thought of Arthur even thinking that about himself. "And it seems quite obvious that you are anything but unlovable," he gave a pointed gesture to Eames, who was nuzzling Arthur's neck to enhance his words.

And just like that, it was as though another weight – heavier than the first – seemed to fall away from Arthur. The man was still very stiff with a phantom pain Cobb hoped would soon pass, but his back and shoulders straightened despite that. Confidence began soaking back into the man's eyes and face, his face no longer pinched with pain or self hatred as he considered and accepted Dom's words. The Extractor breathed an internal sigh of relief, unsure of what they would have done if Arthur had not accepted his words. Arthur took his own deep breath of air, sighing loudly as he constantly seemed to banish more tension and weight from his mind and body.

Their timing couldn't have been better since Dr. Maxwell breezed into the room a minute later, calling out their names in confusion when he found an empty bed and couldn't see the three dream workers behind the bed frame. Eames met his gaze for a moment, relief between them that the doctor had not arrived when Arthur was having his breakdown – before the man was ready and able to move onto his testing and other aspects of recovery. "We're down here," Arthur spoke up before either he or Eames could speak up.

"Why would you all be sitting down there?" Dr. Maxwell questioned them with a raised eyebrow as he came around the foot of the hospital bed. When they came into view, Arthur was the first of the three to begin moving towards standing. Dom scrambled to his feet to aid the Point Man, earning himself a reassuringly familiar glare as Arthur's independence shone through in its healthy form once again. Eames, by comparison, remained seated on the cold floor as a silent and stable base for Arthur to use if he wished. Arthur looked unimpressed with his own struggling but did take the Forger's aid silently by pushing himself up and balancing himself with Eames's shoulder.

"I stood up from the hospital bed and my left leg collapsed beneath my weight," Arthur informed the doctor meticulously as though he was another doctor discussing a nameless patient. "I grew rather emotional and Mr. Eames and Mr. Cobb were helping me through my moment of weakness." Dom watched with quiet amusement as Arthur smoothed out the shirt of his pyjamas as though he were dressed in the most expensive suit currently in fashion. Despite Arthur's previous argument, he knew for certain that Arthur's confidence had never depended on his attire.

Luckily, Dr. Maxwell seemed to recognize Arthur's form of coping as he approached his own struggles and weaknesses like a job, with professional interest, aims and focus. Rather than treating him as a patient or as someone who need to be handled with care, the doctor responded to Arthur as an equal, as someone whose experiences and thoughts were as valid regarding his condition as the doctor's views. "How are you feeling beyond that?"

By this time, Dom and Eames had picked themselves off the floor and stretched out their cramped muscles. Even as they shifted their weight in search of a more comfortable position, Arthur fell still; his steadying grip on the bed frame was the only visible indication of Arthur's discomfort and pain. "I seem to be experiencing some psychosomatic pain in the places I was wounded while dreaming; however I seem unable to overcome this despite my awareness." Cobb would have been amused by the clinical tone if he wasn't so impressed by Arthur's own self awareness and ability to distance himself from his own pain in search of a solution. "I found it difficult to fall asleep until Mr. Eames helped me," Arthur continued to explain without looking too bashful. "I get flashbacks and I feel rather paranoid, anxious and emotionally distressed."

"Alright," Dr. Maxwell nodded, adding a few notes to the chart attached to the foot of his bed. "Well first things first, we'll need to walk you through a physical and get your brain scanned. It seems that you are having no issues regarding memory – on the contrary, actually," the man waved his hand to indicate Arthur's flashbacks while he continued to jot down notes. "But I'm still concerned about long term effects. After that, I would like to speak with you privately about your experience and possibly have you seen by a therapist if you agree."

Arthur visibly hesitated for just a moment before he nodded. "We'll see about the therapist," he remained uncommitted, still not even moving to shift his weight or stretch out a muscle.

Dr. Maxwell seemed to consider arguing the point but decided otherwise. Instead, the doctor nodded again and slid the medical chart under his arm. "Mr. Eames," he turned his attention onto the Forger, who had been standing close behind Arthur in a protective manner. Once the attention was on him though, he seemed to shrink behind Arthur's form, drawing comfort while before he had been giving it. "You will be going through a similar schedule of testing today as well. My head nurse will be overseeing your physical and brain scan, but then I will be speaking with you personally about your own experience." Dom watched in amusement as Arthur suddenly became the protector in the couple, his weakness momentarily set aside. "Since this is such an issues regarding confidentiality, I do not wish to bring anyone else into the situation."

Dom nodded in agreement in time with Arthur and Eames. He was thankful that they had been lucky enough for Arthur to receive a doctor who was aware of, and understood the requirements of doctor-patient confidentiality. There still might be some issues if someone wished to point fingers and blame about the current condition of Nikolas, Amelina and Louis. But at least it seemed unlikely that he and his two team members would be forced to run or enforce their privacy after being discovered with connections to an active, illegal PASIV device. "That sounds appropriate," he spoke for the group, knowing without speaking that the others agreed.

"Excellent. Well, shall we, Mr. Tilmont?" Dr. Maxwell motioned towards the door. "Mr. Eames, my head nurse will be here to work with you shortly," the man informed the Forger, who looked visibly agitated at being split from Arthur so soon after they had both made it back to reality safely. Dom understood the feeling, similarly concerned and protective of Arthur going off on his own so soon. It didn't help that Arthur's limp with his left leg was terribly obvious; Arthur's thin face tightened in disappointment as he forced himself to begin walking towards the door without the aid of the bed frame or anyone's offered arm.

Once Arthur disappeared through the hospital door behind Dr. Maxwell, only sending one quick glance back towards him and Eames, the room fell silent. Eames began pacing back and forth beside the vacant hospital bed like a caged animal, clearly distressed and trying to calm himself down. It was endearing to see Eames so attached to Arthur; the person he had been infatuated with for at least a year was finally his and now the Forger was acting like a teenager in his first relationship. There was more to it than that between them of course; both Eames and Arthur were adults involved in a dangerous profession. They both understood the costs and benefits of a relationship and respected one another. But it was still somewhat adorable to see that novelty and desire for physical closeness blossoming in front of his eyes.

In order to calm the man down, Dom asked Eames to explain what else had happened down in the dreamscape since Arthur had never given him a chance to explain his experiences. At first it seemed an effective means of distracting Eames from his pacing. Unfortunately, as the man began describing what he had seen when confronting Nikolas and Amelina in the dreamscape, as well as what he had briefly seen of Louis's methods, both of them began getting agitated again. The mere thought of one of Arthur's projections being strung up for public torture, the trauma Eames no doubt experienced at being forced to hurt and kill the projection. The thought of an enemy extractor tearing apart Arthur's subconscious in hopes of finding some flicker of memory useful for Louis's torture. Eames's own vulnerability to the extraction and the fact that he had to kill three individuals in a very personal, close manner. The Forger had not been physically injured, but Dom was amazed at how well he was holding up despite the psychological trauma. He guessed Eames was holding himself together and forcing himself to deal with everything in order to keep Arthur safe; it helped that he could remind himself that he had done everything to save the man he loved, and that it had been a successful feat.

He did his best to calm Eames down, only partially succeeding by reminding the man that Arthur was safe and would be back soon. Soon after that, when Eames had abandoned pacing to sit tiredly on the edge of Arthur's bed, Dr. Maxwell's head nurse entered the room. "Mr. Eames?" the young man checked the medical chart in his hand briefly before glancing between the two dream workers, looking for some response.

"That would be me," Eames raised a hand before rubbing his face, clearly exhausted, and stood from the bed. "Let's get these tests over with," the man suggested, heading for the door after giving a farewell nod in Cobb's direction. "I could really use some food and sleep after this is finished."

The door closed behind Eames and the head nurse a moment later, leaving Dom alone to his thoughts. He was not sure how long the testing would take, though he guessed it would be quite extensive before Dr. Maxwell was confident about their apparently luck in escaping the dream with their memory intact. Eames's mention of food had his stomach churning eagerly at the thought and he headed down to the hospital's cafeteria before anything else. The food was expensive and not all that appealing to look at, but each bite tasted wonderful to him now that he could finally sit back and relax; Arthur and Eames were safe.

It did not take him long to finish his food since there was no one at the table to converse with. Instead, he was left with his thoughts to mull over everything Arthur and Eames had told him about the encounter in the dreamscape. There was a lot of anger running through his head, interlaced with confusion and a never-ending string of questions. Would Arthur quit dream work after this? Would Eames quit with him? Would Arthur ever manage to get past his torture down in the dream or would the pain haunt him? Would he ever be able to overcome the other guilt piling on top of his shoulders? Would Eames be able to help him through that?

Finding no answers in his lukewarm coffee, Dom chucked the last dregs and the cup before heading outside. He highly doubted that Arthur and Eames would have their testing and questioning done after only an hour, which made it the opportune moment for him to finally get some fresh air. The sun was still high in the sky and the breeze was warm on his skin as Cobb stepped out of the hospital and meandered over to one of the benches set on a small expanse of grass beside the hospital building. The beautiful warm weather seemed juxtaposed to his stormy thoughts and Dom couldn't help but feel a little bitter at the sky. He knew he was supposed to be overjoyed and grateful that his two friends were alive and safe – and he was, without a doubt – but the simple thought that they had ever experienced such pain in the first place, that their safety had ever been something to question, had him displeased with the weather. It seemed rude of the sun to be shining so brightly when people were suffering and dying in the hospital behind him.

Before he fell too far into his darker thoughts, Cobb pulled out his phone and flipped it open. There were a few unanswered texts from Ariadne asking whether she should fly in to New York that day or that second, as well as a few added thoughts from Yusuf and Saito after his phone conversations with them earlier. Dom responded back to Ariadne, telling her that she should probably wait for Arthur's confirmation that he was ready for visitors before she flew in. He still had no idea how willing Arthur was to converse with other team members considering how out of character he was already behaving as he dealt with his trauma.

Once that was complete he selected Melissa's number and brought the phone up to his ear. There were a few sets of long rings before the phone connected and Melissa spoke cheerfully. "Hello?"

"Hi Melissa," Dom greeted happily, forcing some of the exhaustion and worry from his tone. "How are things? I just called to speak with James and Phillipa briefly."

"Things are fine," Melissa promised, a smile audible in her words. "But unfortunately Phillipa and James are in school right now."

There was a long pause of silence across the phone as Dom blinked, watching the scenery around him. "It's a weekday..." he stated questioningly.

He could hear Melissa chuckle lightly through the phone. "Yes, it's Wednesday. Don't worry about it; that often happens when you are stuck in a hospital and worrying over someone for days on end. How is your friend, by the way?"

He couldn't believe that he had actually lost track of the days. He was normally so skilled at keeping track of time; it was a requirement when you manipulated your own perception of time so often for work. It took him a minute to register the question. "Oh, he's great actually. He's awake. He's getting some tests done but that was actually why I was calling; I should be home in a few days."

"Oh that's wonderful to hear!" Melissa responded, sounding pleased.

Her words suddenly had Dom smiling as well, reminding him what was truly important. Yes, he still wanted to hurt the three enemy dream workers for what they had done to his friend, but they had already received their own form of punishment. What was important was the fact that Arthur and Eames were both awake, aware, had their memories, and seemed to possess the devotion to one another and motivation to themselves to overcome this encounter and come out stronger in the end. "Yes," Dom breathed, clutching the phone a little tighter when his eyes started to sting with unshed tears. His relief and gratitude just seemed to wash over him then, and he found it hard not to let the tears spill down his face. "Yes, it is wonderful."

They spoke for another few minutes after that, Melissa updating him on how James and Phillipa had been doing in his absence. The conversation eventually ended with him promising to text her when he knew when he'd be returning home, and a rather emotional goodbye. Cobb decided to remain on the bench for another little while, soaking in the sun and breathing in the refreshing breeze before stepping back into the sterile hospital. He eventually ended up pulling out the cheap paperback he had purchased at the hospital gift shop to keep himself sane, beginning the last chapter when Eames slipped back into the room unaccompanied. "How did it go?" Dom asked curiously, dropping the book back into his bag without bothering with a bookmark.

"I don't think we'll have to worry about running unless Arthur's discussion went much different from mine," Eames stepped into the room as a professional Forger, assessing threats to his team and companion. "They can't prove anything in the first place and they only seemed to be interested in understanding what happened to try to find some solution for the bastards' conditions."

"I meant health-wise, Eames," Cobb reminded the man, feeling as though he was suddenly back in the leadership role on a job, checking in with his team members.

"Oh," Eames blinked. "Right." He ran his fingers through his hair abashed. "I got a clean bill of health. Or at least as healthy as I can expect after everything I've ingested," Eames chuckled lightly, shrugging. "I didn't experience any real physical pain down in the dream so nothing is manifesting. The rest of what I had to do wasn't exactly enjoyable," Eames added, "But I've experienced it before and know how to get myself through it. Right now I'm just sleep deprived and a little dehydrated."

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the door being pushed open. Both dream workers turned in time to see Arthur stride into the room, pace and posture unhindered by the remaining limp in his left leg. Dom saw that he was still sporting the hospital pyjamas and looking very unimpressed with that, especially considering the fact that the bag held in his right hand was most likely his personal effects from the hotel. "...If you refuse to keep the IV for another night, you'll have to make sure you drink a glass of water at least once an hour," Dr. Maxwell pressed as Arthur came to stand by Eames and dumped his bag on his bed. "Your body is still recovering from dehydration and there's no sense in making that worse just to be stubborn."

"That's fine, doctor," Arthur spoke in a level tone, not yet acknowledging Dom or Eames beyond a quick moment of eye contact. "I understand your demand for me to drink water, catch up on sleep, eat healthy, and exercise daily to loosen muscles. I already do that every day," the Point Man drawled, and Cobb had no reason to believe he was lying. "What I disagree with is the necessity for me to be seen by a therapist."

"I require that you attend the trial session tomorrow afternoon for assessment, Mr. Tilmont," Dr. Maxwell warned precisely, probably unaccustomed to having his authority challenged or brought into question. "After that we can discuss the possibility or necessity of further sessions. Now get some rest and I'll be back tomorrow at eleven in the morning so we can discuss your results. Oh, Mr. Eames," the man stopped in his tracks on his way towards the door, taking note of the state of the room. "Will you be requiring another bed?" he asked courteously.

"I'm sure it can be put to better use, doctor," Eames waved the offer away and Dom caught the sidelong wink he sent towards Arthur, who sent a silencing glare back. Without another word, Dr. Maxwell nodded his understanding and purposefully glanced away to slip out into the busy hospital corridors. As soon as it was just the three of them in the room together, he watched as Eames crossed the short distance to wrap his arms loosely around Arthur's shoulders. "How did it go, darling?"

Cobb watched as Arthur slid away from Eames's loose embrace carefully before stepping over to the bed and unzipping his bag. It was clear that Arthur was still in his defensive mindset, viewing everything as a job to be assessed and completed, every individual as a team member with their own strengths and weaknesses. He hoped that Eames would not take it personally, knowing the Forger needed Arthur's comfort as much as Arthur needed Eames's even though they were both too stubborn to outwardly admit it.

"I am the epitome of health," Arthur proclaimed as he slipped his laptop out of his bag, doing a quick scan of the rest of the contents, taking inventory, before zipping it up again. Seeming to note that everything was in order, Arthur slid back onto the hospital bed with as little vocal protest as he could manage. Dom watched, exasperated as his friend did not take precautions to avoid causing himself further pain. "In fact, except for the psychosomatic pain and the anxiety and slight depression, I'm beyond healthy," the other man continued to state as he settled back against the raised back of the mattress and powered up his laptop. "My cognitive abilities and memory surpassed normal levels."

"Arthur," Eames drew even with Arthur's left elbow, towering over the man as he stood by the bed.

"Eames," Arthur retaliated blankly, as if unaware of any reason for further discussion. His gaze did not leave the laptop screen as he typed in his passkey.

He could see the Forger cupping a palm beneath Arthur's jaw, turning and tilting that emotionless face upward. When Eames leaned closer Arthur fell partially out of view behind the bulkier man, but Dom could still see the rather sweet, chaste kiss being planted on Arthur's thin lips. Eames pulled away a moment later, leaving the other man to blink dazedly and lean up for another kiss. The affectionate smile on Eames's face when he saw the movement and dipped down for a deeper kiss was priceless. It had Cobb's heart bursting with enough happiness to overwhelm the sting of jealously.

He was just considering sneaking for the door when the kiss ended with a protesting groan from both men, even though they both seemed to pull away at the same moment. Arthur was blushing profusely, sending Dom a nervous glance before looking back up to Eames, biting his bottom lip uncertainly. Eames, in comparison, was leaning forward again, but this time to speak softly and seriously into his companion's ear. "You are not a mark with case files to be analyzed before a job, love," no doubt commenting on Arthur's behaviour during the day.

"You're right," Dom was surprised to hear Arthur admit, looking at least partially relieved over the slight change in subject from the topic of kissing. "I will never overcome this if I don't approach it as myself. I need to face my past in order to surpass it."

"Right," Eames beamed, dropping another quick peck of lips to Arthur's forehead and causing the skin to wrinkle into a frown there. "And I'll be there every step of the way to remind you how human you truly are, and are allowed to act. And first item on the agenda..." his proclamation was interrupted by the distinct sound of a stomach growling as it demanded food, "Is dinner."

After another lingering kiss, Eames rifled through the bag he had left Dom in charge of guarding to pull out his wallet before disappearing in search of the hospital cafeteria. The room was permeated by silence and the clatter of Arthur's fast typing on his keyboard for a few minutes and Dom was dumbfounded by the lightning-fast transformation the Point Man kept shifting through. He was not even sure if Arthur was consciously aware of what he was doing, but he was seamlessly shifting between professional Point Man and emotionally expressive boyfriend depending on Eames's proximity. It was stunning to see Eames's presence tear away and melt the professional persona Cobb had grown so accustomed to he had come to assume it was Arthur's norm; he had been mistaken. Seeing Arthur openly express himself – everything from his adoration of Eames to his vulnerabilities and annoyances –was like a rare gift of enlightenment.

"I spoke with our old teammates," he heard himself speaking, suddenly curious to see if Arthur would drop his mask for Dom as well.

"Oh?" Arthur raised a questioning eyebrow but never paused in his typing, eyes still fixated on the glowing laptop screen as the sun began to dip lower in the sky.

For a moment, Dom would describe himself as miffed. He had known Arthur for longer than Eames and, despite his mistakes, certainly annoyed the Point Man to a lesser extent. Why was he still being limited to Arthur's professional mask? It might have had something to do with Arthur's feelings for his companion, or what they had experienced and sacrificed for one another down in the dreamscape. Maybe it was because of Dom's mistakes or simply the fact that Arthur knew this was the mask he had grown to expect from the Point Man. Either way, he realized that he didn't truly mind Arthur still being somewhat distant for him; or at the very least couldn't fault him for that. He was just pleased that Arthur had found someone he could share his deeper self with, someone who would not only accept that very private aspect of Arthur, but would cherish it as the gift it was.

"Yusuf sends his regards and demand you call him at your first available moment," he explained lightly, feeling the same awkwardness he had experienced when calling their old teammates on Arthur's behalf. "Saito informed me that you should check your bank accounts," he repeated from the previous phone conversation, mystified and suspicious of the words. Likewise, Arthur glanced over at him in confusion before focusing on his laptop again, eyebrows furrowed as he made a few pointed clicks. He watched with curiosity when those eyebrows extended into Arthur's hairline as the man's eyes widened. But rather than receiving an explanation, Arthur simply clicked a few more times and glanced back at him expectantly. "Ariadne was going to fly in but I told her you'd call her when you felt up to a visit. She's gone very long-distance-mother-hen on you, I'm afraid."

Arthur gave a tiny snort of laughter, one corner of those narrow lips quirking upward. "I'm six years older than her."

Dom laughed as well. "Like that would ever stop her."

He watched as Arthur ran his fingers through messy black locks of hair – Cobb more than slightly surprised that the other man had not yet hunted down some hair gel by this point. He was somewhat confused when he saw Arthur's smile falter and fall, morphing to sadness and then determination. "I'll give her a call when I'm ready; I feel I shouldn't have let us all grow so distant over the last year, though at the time I did not handle things well."

"It's never too late, Arthur," Cobb reminded the other man, trying to maintain his attention as Arthur began glancing back at whatever was currently on his computer screen. "And on that note, you and Eames are both welcome to come to my place once you are released from the hospital. The kids would love to see you."

Arthur glanced over at him with mild surprise, this time looking somewhat shy as he momentarily abandoned his laptop. "Thank you, Dom, but I think I need to take care of myself first this time. I'm sorry. There is somewhere else I have to visit before I can put this encounter behind me."

"I understand," he spoke quickly, trying to reassure Arthur that he was not mad at the Point Man for rejecting his offer.

Arthur nodded his thanks and took a minute to look out the window, a considering glint in those dark eyes. "When are you planning to leave for home?"

"I'm not sure," he shrugged. "I plan on staying until your test results come back confirming everything is alright. After that, I was just planning on waiting to see if you would come home with me or in case you needed anything."

He could hear the other man hum in thought for a moment, like the gentle hum of a running computer. "You should leave tomorrow. I'll have the test results back by then and I'm sure James and Phillipa miss you terribly," Arthur reasoned. Dom noted that his friend did not sound detached or angry – Arthur was not trying to get rid of him. The Point Man was just considering his own future plans and mystery travelling he had mentioned, as well as mentally calculating how many days he had been away from his children. Despite acting like a selfish egoist when working, Arthur truly was almost too altruistic for his own good.

"I may," Dom admitted, unwilling to deny how much he missed having his children in his arms. "Though I wouldn't want to leave pre-emptively only to have something happen, even if I would just be a phone call away."

"Do as you wish," Arthur reasoned, somehow managing to sound comfortingly knowledgeable in his words. "But keep in mind that I will be getting out here as quickly as I can manage and there will not be much for you to do here." Arthur began typing again but paused. "Just think on it."

From then on, the room fell into a contemplative, comfortable silence as Dom internally debated on going home before busying himself with booking a flight for the afternoon after Arthur's test results were due back. Eames returned shortly afterwards with Styrofoam bowls of soup and noodles, a salad, and a few bottles of water tucked precariously under an arm. There were three of everything, surprising Cobb, and they all ate in companionate silence.

It wasn't long after the food was finished before Dom pulled out his paperback to finish the last chapter and Eames sprawled out on his proclaimed side of the bed. Arthur remained seated on the mattress for a while, still typing away, but the Extractor's attention was drawn by a pause in keystrokes and a mock-annoyed huff of air. He glanced up to see that Eames had stolen Arthur's right hand away from the keyboard and begun peppering kisses along that pale expanse of skin between yawns, focusing greatly on the wrist area. Arthur eventually gave up on work and packed away his laptop before adjusting the mattress flat and curling up under the blankets beside his companion.

It seemed like no time at all before Dom could hear quiet snores and even breathing coming from the bed, both dream workers still terribly exhausted from their encounter. He was not far behind though, feeling his eyelids droop warningly as he skimmed the last few pages of his book. Knowing he only had one more day of dealing with the uncomfortable sleeping accommodations, Cobb abandoned his book and found a washroom before curling up in his chair to follow his teammates into sleep, silently thankful that it was summer.

The next day passed in a blur, all three of them sleeping until Dr. Maxwell burst in with Arthur's and Eames's test results. Just as they had both proclaimed the day before, they were both generally healthy. Their brain scans also showed no anomalies, leaving them all with a cautionary belief that they would not experience any latent consequences. Cobb was pleased to hear the good news from the doctor himself, rather than someone who might be influenced by wishful thinking, but he had to leave to get to the airport before Arthur was forced to endure his preliminary therapy session.

"Arthur," he spoke quietly to draw the man's attention as Eames and Dr. Maxwell debated some methods of helping Arthur work through the psychosomatic pain, the Point Man eavesdropping shamelessly. His friend turned to him curiously, giving Dom his full attention. "I've made a lot of mistakes," he confessed guiltily, stomach twisting into painful knots as his words dragged up various memories. "I'm really sorry, and I'm just thankful that I have the opportunity to try to rectify them now."

Arthur nodded, an understanding in those eyes that few could ever manage after so much trauma and disappointment. "I'll call you after I get everything sorted." Arthur offered his hand but Cobb pulled the man into his arms for a quick hug instead. The Point Man stiffened in his arms automatically, shifting away from him slightly to avoid physical contact on certain areas of his back, but Dom was relieved to feel Arthur reciprocate with an awkward but well-meaning hug. "Thank you for watching over me and Eames."

"Anytime," he promised as they pulled away from one another. Cobb had then wished farewell to Eames, thanked Dr. Maxwell, and rushed into the nearest taxi for the airport. He had been running late and just barely caught his flight, having hesitated at the thought of abandoning Arthur again after such a traumatic experience. But he hoped he had managed to part on better terms this time around, and that this would not be a permanent separation. He was also confident with his knowledge that Arthur would be more than alright with Eames by his side.

He was grateful that the flight was only a few hours in duration and that he was moving back across time zones, meaning that he still had a few hours of sunlight once he landed even though it felt like evening to him. Once he had a taxi, Cobb went directly to Melissa's place, having texted ahead to let her know that he would be arriving shortly after dinnertime. Even though it would only take him a few minutes to rush over to his own house to drop off his stuff after the taxi arrived, he couldn't help but dash directly up to Melissa's door, dropping his travel bag onto the porch without a care.

When he knocked and heard eager feet rushing towards the door, he couldn't help but grin in anticipation. He was already on his knees by the time the door got yanked open, arms spread to collect his two children as James and Phillipa squealed happily and rushed into his embrace. After just a few short days away from his children for the first time after being reunited with them, and after witnessing two of his closest friends nearly die, Dom found it impossible to let go of his children even when they began leaning away to talk excitedly over one another. Even though he thought he had seen the worst that the world could be during his time in dream work, Cobb had finally been forced to truly see the worst of humanity. He had been forced to recognize that it could happen to those he cared about.

He remembered his fear for Arthur and then Eames when they both went down under into the dream – the debilitating terror after Nikolas, Amelina and then Louis had all woken up in turn without their memories. Dom remembered his concern for Arthur when he saw the man limping and flinching away from a phantom pain, and the overwhelming relief that had washed over him when his teammates had woken up mostly in tact – supporting one another – and had their test results come back safe.

He was only aware of the fact that he was crying when James and Phillipa each reached forward with warm, delicate fingers to brush away the tears from his cheeks. "Why are you crying, daddy?" Phillipa asked him, looking sad at his tears. "You came home."

"I did come home," he nodded, sniffling because he was unwilling to release his hold on his two children quite yet. When he had left for New York and Arthur's bedside, he had been besieged by the challenges of raising two children on his own; it had seemed impossible and very unfair. But now the thought of getting to make food for his children, to share his knowledge and help them with their homework, and to tuck them into bed each night seemed like a privilege – a blessing. And after what he had seen Arthur suffer through and sacrifice to keep his old team of friends safe, as well as what Eames had risked to save his beloved, Dom doubted he could ever find another reason to complain when things got a little difficult. "And I'm so glad to be home. I love you guys so much."

"Love you," James pulled close again for another hug, twining his little arms around Cobb's neck. "Uncle Arthur?" he asked curiously, blinking up at him after leaning backwards, partially dragging Dom's body forward with his arms still twined around the Extractor's neck.

"Uncle Arthur is good," Dom simplified with a relieved smile, knowing James and Phillipa were still too young to entirely understand what had been at stake if he tried to delve further into Arthur's experience and current condition.

"We wished for him to get better every night. We wanted to help you help Uncle Arthur," Phillipa admitted with a shy smile, also stepping forward into his embrace again. "We love you, daddy."

"I'm sure your wishes helped Arthur a lot. Thank you both for helping him," Dom kissed each of them on the forehead before pulling them close again. Hugging his two children close was like an addicting drug he would never grow tired of. It was after a long moment of holding them close, cherishing the sensation of them breathing in his hold as their hearts fluttered, when he realized Melissa was standing in the doorframe with a bright smile as she held James and Phillipa's tiny travel bags. "Thank you so much for everything, Melissa," he thanked his neighbour as he finally straightened from his crouching position.

"Anytime, Dominic," Melissa graced him with a brilliant smile, offering up the children's bags when he reached for them.

"Let's go home!" Phillipa shouted excitedly, smiling lovingly and proudly up at him.

"Home!" James agreed with a loud giggle, small hand clutching loosely at Dom's pant leg as those big blue eyes looked up at him, sparkling in the late afternoon sunlight.

Cobb reached down and lifted his own bag, sliding the straps for all three bags over his right shoulder before sending one final grateful nod at Melissa. Then he glanced down at James and Phillipa, almost disbelieving in his luck, and took one of their hands in each of his own. "Yes, let's go home."