Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!
Arthur ran his hands over his face, pushing water out of his eyes. The shower was hot, and on full blast, but he still felt sluggish, lifeless. Ten hours on a plane...he shuddered.
Cassandra had checked them in, using her credit card. She'd left him in the room, whilst going out shopping.
"You need clothes, I need clothes," she'd informed him. She'd told him she'd be back in a couple of hours. Arthur reached for the faucet, and turned it off. Much as he liked and respected the female Point, he appreciated the time to himself.
Climbing out of the shower, he reached for a towel, wrapping it around his slim waist. As he left the shower, he suddenly felt a wave of dizziness. Gripping the side of the sink, he tried to steady himself.
"Get a grip," he muttered. Swallowing, he peered into the mirror. His skin was flushed pink from the shower's heat, and his eyes looked bloodshot. Frowning he walked into the bedroom, and sat on the bed. Sighing, he swung his legs round, and stretched out.
Arthur took a deep breath. A wave of nausea was building at the back of his throat. He began to sit up, but a fresh wave began to slice through him. As his heart started to pound, he took a deep breath. Leaning over the side of the bed, he vomited. Choking, he tried to sit up, but suddenly felt weaker. He reached out, groping wildly for the phone. Picking it up, he pulled it to his ear, hearing the polite tones on the other end.
"Front desk."
"Hi...I need..."
"What's the problem, Sir?"
"I need..."
The phone grasped from his fingers. Feeling too weak to continue, Arthur closed his eyes, letting darkness wash over him.
Ariadne struggled. Eames' grip on her upper arms was painful, causing bruising. She tried to pull away.
"Let me go!" She shouted. "Eames!"
"Oh, come on," he crooned. "You know you want to. You need a real man, Ari, I'll show you what you've been missing. Never had any complaints, I'm not some skinny little tightarse like Art-"
She lashed out. Her hand collided with his cheek; one finger nail scratching a deep groove into the skin. He stopped, stunned. As he put his hand to his face, he could feel the coolness of a trickle of blood.
"You...little bitch," he snarled, his anger breaking through his shock. "How could you? Oh, maybe thats what Arthur likes, but you've just made a very big mistake."
His face dark with rage, He turned and stalked out of the room. Ariadne felt a deep shuddering breath exhale from her. As the door slammed, she felt her bravado burst, and the tears began to fall.
"Mmm, you're good at that."
Smirking, he propped himself up on the pillows. "Am I?"
"Yes." She giggled. "You made me-" she blushed, and fell silent. He leaned over, and kissed her.
"Your pleasure is what matters," he told her, sincerely, the smirk gone. She reached up, and pulled him closer.
The memory waved in Arthur's head, blissful, trancelike. He barely heard the door opening and closing.
"Art!" Cassandra called. "Art! I got you some casuals. I know you don't like casuals, but to be inconspi-"
She stopped. Her eyes widened with shock as she saw the almost catatonic Point Man. He was lying on the bed, the vomit on the floor beginning to sink into the thick carpet. His skin was taking on a grey pallor, and she could see salivia forming at the corner of his mouth. His forehead was cool, but a sheen of sweat was beginning to form.
"Art?" She hurried over. "Art!" Taking his wrist, she felt for his pulse. With relief, she could feel it, but her worry increased at its weakness. With no hesitation, she reached for the phone. She thought back, suddenly remembering.
Saito. She'd left him and Arthur alone. She cursed herself for having been so naive. "I'm sorry," she whispered to the Point Man. She lifted the receiver.
"Front desk."
"Hi. This is room 412. Please get an ambulance. Now."