Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters end up in. Everything else belongs to someone else and that's the way of it.

Being A Parent

After Arthur's car had pulled out of the street Eames turned to his father, expecting that the older man would have plenty to say now that he had met his boyfriend in person. Or at least would have a comment or two that good manners had kept his very British father from expressing within Arthur's hearing. Not that the two hadn't seemed to get along, they'd gotten on amazingly well, but Eames wasn't about to count his chickens before they hatched. So he waited…only his father just continued to sit there with a thoughtful look on his face.

"So….that was Arthur…"

The response he got was laced with amusement. "I did get that, yes."

All but vibrating in his chair, and how could he not, with his dad suddenly going all quiet on him, Eames left like he was on pins and needles, wondering if he was wrong about the two of them having hit it off. "So aren't you going to tell me what you think of him? I've never known you not to have an opinion, Dad. And this is the first boyfriend I've ever had, so really, you should have opinions. A bloody boat load of opinions. Which you should be sharing with me now."

"So what? If I don't like the lad you'll just give him up?"

"Of course not!" He wanted the two to get along, but it wasn't a deal breaker. Heck, Arthur's dad had made it clear he didn't like him already. Though Arthur's dad was a way bigger arse than Eames's own dad, Eames mentally panicked over, so maybe it would matter to Arthur. Then again Arthur didn't seem to really give a fuck what anyone thought of him so maybe not. He was a hard man to figure out at the best of times.

"Teenagers."

His dad laughing at him did not help Eames's mood one little bit. Though in the spirit of being a teenager Eames rolled his eyes at his father. He ignored the urge to stick out his tongue, though. That would have not helped his case, so to speak.

"Fine, fine." The way Eames's father grinned at him made it clear he was enjoying winding him up. "Whether it matters or not, he has my seal of approval, Tom. He seems an intelligent, mature young man. And one who is quite fond of you, which is really what's most important. Not the sort I thought you'd bring home one day, so he's a pleasant surprise there, actually. You have good taste."

"What kind of bloke did ya think I'd be bringing round?" How insulted should he be here?

His father laughed. "Oi. I didn't mean it like that. Mostly. I just meant that I thought you'd bring home a man more like you. An athlete perhaps, but someone easygoing and highly social like you are. Arthur strikes me as more mature and…serious, than would appeal to you."

Okay, that wasn't that bad. And true, come to that. Eames had always seen himself with someone like that right up until he'd laid eyes on Arthur.

"My only concern, Tom, is the fact that from I've been told, he's essentially a single parent with two small children. Which means if you're dating that boy, then you're taking on those children as well. They'd be a package deal."

"I know they come first. Believe me, Arthur's made that clear. And he takes good care of them." Eames bristled, prepared to defend Arthur's parenting skills until he was blue in the face.

"So you're ready to be a parent too, now? Because if you think you can-"

"I don't know." Interrupting before his father could get started, it wasn't like he didn't know what his father was going to say after all, Eames straightened his shoulders and looked his father dead in the eye. "I doubt it. I don't think really anyone is every ready to be a parent until they are one. And even then way too many are shite at it from what I've seen. I just know that I like them, don't mind spending time with them, and I'm okay with sharing Arthur with them…well it will probably be annoying as hell sometimes, but I'll suck it up. Because he's important to me. And like you said, they're a package deal."

A moment to let that sink in, and then Eames asked if his father had any advice while they were on the topic.

When his father sighed and shook his head, Eames suddenly thought that his father looked a lot older to him all of a sudden. "I think we can agree I'm not exactly father of the year material, Son. Just ask your mum."

Rolling his chair closer so that his father was in reaching distance, Eames leaned forward to place a hand on top of his father's, giving the hand beneath his a squeeze.

"She's right pissed at you, Dad." Eames always felt and sounded more British around his father. "She's not gonna be saying anything nice about you until you grovel your arse off. And you aren't a bad dad. You just aren't around as much as we'd like. And we get it, it's part of the army life, but we're still allowed to be pissed about it from time to time. And you should probably look into retiring soon if you want to keep Mum, by the way. You ain't getting any younger either, ya know."

"Oh, she's made that clear."

"Good."

"I did like him. Arthur."

"Well that's good too. Cause his dad sure doesn't fancy me for Arthur one little bit."

Immediately puffing up like the protective father that he was, Eames's father demanded to know what this stupid Yank had against his boy.

"Just being Arthur's boyfriend is apparently reason enough."

"Ah. Well it is normal for parents not to think anyone could possibly be good enough for their child."

"Yeah. I don't think that's it. Unfortunately."

"Some people should just not have children. Dominic Cobb's is one of them." Was Mimi's decree as she came strolling into the room to take a seat across from them, pick up her knitting from where she'd left it. "No good ever comes from spoiling a child, and that boy's parents did it in spades, bless their hearts."

"Who turned her into such a brat?/Who are the culprits?/Who did that?/The guilty ones (and this is sad), dear old Mom and loving Dad." Eames sang, grinning at the two until he realized they were both looking at him like he'd lost his mind. "Ah…'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory'? Mimi's line about spoiling a child, Grandpa Joe…nevermind. And you, British, Dad. Really."

"It's been a while since I've brushed up on my Roald Dahl."

Eames let it go for the moment, but only so he could ask Mimi why she was so sure Arthur's father wasn't cut out to be a father. She'd yet to meet the man.

"Yes, well, while you're making calf eyes at their brother-"

"Oi, Mimi."

Mimi gave him the 'don't interrupt me' look that had Eames sheepishly apologizing.

"Forgiven. For now. But as I was saying, I do spend a lot of time with your young man's siblings while you're having your tutoring sessions. And Phillipa and I do talk while we have her lesson. And from what she's said I've got a pretty clear picture of how life was even before her mother passed away. Not that sticking Arthur in a boarding school when he was only a boy didn't make it clear already that they didn't know how to be proper parents." Mimi sniffed. "And what's worse is the firstborn is the one you're supposed to learn from so you don't mess up as badly with the other ones. The two of them skipped that by passing off Arthur's care to others, and paid for it later."

Both only children, Eames and his father shared a rueful look.

"From what I gather the two of them just dragged their children all over the globe like they were constantly on a holiday. Arthur had to tutor Phillipa to get her ready for school here, she spent so little time in any one school. "

Eames appreciated the fact that Mimi didn't take this opportunity to point out that Eames's parents had 'dragged' him around the world for the first part of his life too, before his mother had decided that enough was enough, and come here to live permanently. Instead, she launched into a monologue about what she'd gleaned from conversations from Phillipa concerning Arthur's parents.

She had quite a lot to say on the matter.

)

Arthur would have much rather read a book in his bedroom or fooled around on his laptop until his brain caught up with his physical exhaustion and let him sleep for the night, but he knew better than to think that was a good idea before he hunted up his father and made sure the older man wasn't doing something stupid. Aside from possibly still sulking like a child, that is. And if that was the case he would leave his father to it because he had already spent hours dealing with two sick, cranky children, and he was done. Unless they woke up again, and wouldn't that be fun?

Swiping a hand through his hair Arthur headed downstairs since he knew his father hadn't come up to the second floor, a quick glance into the living room confirming its emptiness. As was the kitchen, though the window revealed that the back porch lights were on, which clued him in to checking outside next.

Bingo.

His father sat on one of the patio chairs, the small table beside it the current resting place for a bottle that Arthur was going to bet was alcoholic in nature. Great.

Unfortunately, losing one parent to suicide had conditioned him to expect such things from the adults in his life, so rather than turn around and leave the old man to drink himself into a stupor, Arthur walked over and took a seat on the chair that bookended the table. He didn't recline though, sitting on the side instead with his legs turned towards his father as his gaze swept over the bottle before lifting up to study his father's profile, since he was being ignored at the moment.

"Was that bottle full before you started tonight?" There wasn't that much missing, but from what little Arthur knew about that brand, even a little could pack a serious punch. Which was probably why his father was drinking it in the first place.

Silence greeted his question, but thankfully Dom Cobb had never been able to pull off the silent treatment for long, the man only lasting a couple minutes of Arthur staring at him in equal silence before breaking.

"Go to bed, Arthur. You should be inside."

"So should you."

"They want you with them. Not me."

Weighing his father's tone, Arthur concluded that his father was in pity party mode and not just drunk enough that he was being honest for once. So to speak.

"They do want you. You're their father. The only one they have. And I get that you don't know a lot about the whole parenting thing, but you can learn. So how about instead of sitting around drinking, you do what I did and do some research and spend time with them just being a parent, and not the fun person who comes around once in a while to spoil them rotten?"

The patio chair screeched in response to the older man's whole body jerk. "You do not get to talk to me like that!"

"Well who else is going to? Seriously. Because if there's someone out there who can straighten you out I'd welcome their help. I might be perfectly prepared to raise those children to adulthood because someone has to, it would be really nice if you would work with me rather than against me when you're actually around."

"They can go back to living with-"

"Don't even think of finishing that sentence." Arthur made sure his voice accurately conveyed the amount of damage he'd do if his father even thought about sending the children to live with their maternal grandmother again. "If you try I will take this to court. And I will talk. A lot. About you and her, and Maman."

"I know." The softness of the statement took Arthur complete by surprise. "I didn't mean…I shouldn't have said that. I wouldn't do that. I actually…I went to see her before coming here. I know she isn't in any shape to look after them. And that you…you are doing a great job…taking care of them."

Arthur waited for the 'but', but it didn't come.

Swiping a hand through his hair, Dom Cobb's sighed. "I don't want to fight with you, Arthur. Just go inside and get some sleep. I'll turn in soon. And leave before the week's over."

In all honesty Arthur didn't like having his father around. It wasn't just that he was used to being in charge and the man of house, or the fact that they had very opposing personalities, which they did. There was also the bone deep anger he had for the man in front of him who just could not seem to grow up and be the sort of father Arthur wanted him to be for the sake of his siblings. And for himself. Because sometimes love really just wasn't enough.

It wasn't enough for their father to love them if he couldn't love them enough to be what they needed him to be.

So he didn't encourage his father to stay, or protest that things would get better.

He was a realist.

)

It was late, and Eames had been debating about turning in for the night, but the sound of Arthur's ringtone snapped him into wakefulness as he jerked, cursed, and then carefully shifted closer to the edge of his bed so that he could grab his cell off his bedside table and accept the call. Leaning against his headboard Eames smiled as he said hello. He hadn't expected him to call, and how were the sprogs?

"Sleeping. And they don't have anything left in their stomachs to throw up."

"Ugh."

"You have no idea." Arthur's voice sounded worn out and tired. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No. My day wasn't nearly as tiring as yours. I'm surprised you didn't pass out along with them."

"Tempting. But I can't. My father…I've given up on him. I don't expect anything from him anymore and that just…just fucking infuriates me! I hate it! And I feel terrible because I know I should hope, that I should encourage him to do better or shit like that, but I don't. I can't." More angry sounds. "I KNOW that he loves us. He does. Even me. But his love is so fucking stunted and tied into all his bullshit that it's more a string he can yank us around with than anything else. And that's not how it's supposed to be!"

Not knowing what else to say Eames settled for making a sound of agreement. Thankfully Arthur didn't need commentary from him.

"He's leaving at the end of the week and I…should I be trying to get him to stay? He won't, but maybe I should try so he knows I don't hate him. Or at least…argh! I fucking hate this!" A short pause. "You know, I always tell them that as long as they do their best that's all that matters. That being the best isn't everything, and really it all but kills me to say that because this is me we're talking about, and being the best is what I strive for. But this is my father's best and maybe I need to accept that. Because there are things I can't do even if I devoted myself to trying for the rest of my life. We all have limitations and maybe expecting my father to be a proper father is like thinking that if I try hard enough I could….could give birth."

Jaw dropping, Eames was torn between amusement at Arthur's high opinion of himself, to think that that was the best example of things he couldn't do, and…no. He was just amused and trying not to laugh since this was a serious conversation.

"Eames? Are you still there?"

"Yeah, sorry, Darling. The idea of MPreg distracted me there for a mo."

"MPreg?"

"What they call male pregnancy on fanfiction. Don't judge me." He was a diehard Albus/Scorpius fan. So sue him.

"I forgot that term. And no, I'm not judging. That would be hypocritical of me, though it's been a long time since I've read any."

"Darling! You like fanfiction? What are your ships?" Eames winced as the words left his mouth. God, between talking about his mother, having to meet Eames's dad, dealing with his own father and the sprogs, Arthur had had a pretty awful fucking day overall. "Fuck. Sorry. We're having a serious conversation here and I...My bad."

"It's fine. I'm smiling, and I didn't figure on doing that tonight. So thanks for that."

"I wish I was there." And not even because he thought Arthur was likely in his bedroom. He just wanted to give Arthur a hug. He had a feeling his boyfriend really needed one.

"If not for the fuss my father would raise I'd say the same. Hence me calling you. I didn't mean to vent on you."

"One of the bennies of having a boyfriend, Darling. Someone to bitch and complain to when the wankers in the world make us wish that we could lock them in a room with wallscreens that only play 'Teletubbies' and 'Barney'."

"That's harsh."

"True. Death would be quicker and more humane. But I'd rather not go to jail for murder."

"You would still be charged with kidnapping, forced imprisonment, and any competent lawyer could argue torture as well."

"I would be fucked if the majority of the jury were parents." Eames had to agree. "Especially if they were made to watch some of it so that the prosecutor could prove just how evil my revenge really was. Would you visit me in prison, Arthur?"

"Are you asking me to be your conjugal, Mr. Eames?"

"Ah…hadn't quite meant it that way…but yes, that would be lovely too if you're offering."

The laughter that came through the phone had Eames grinning widely as well. Good.