Sweet Child of Mine

by PrettyPrettyPlease

Cut off from his family all his adult life, Arthur's not much of a family man and that proved detrimental to his marriage. But when his brother dies and his 8 year old niece shows up on his doorstep, he's obligated to become her caretaker. Can this little girl make Arthur see in a whole new light? And can she help bring Arthur and Ariadne together? T for language. Cameos by team.

25. Sun And Moon And Stars

Julye: Thank you! Here's your next chap! Bookwormgirl: Yeeeeaahh! She did! Idk, you're about to find out. Lol I love complication. L: I agree he deserves some sort of mercy from Ariadne. What he's done is incredibly selfless and just proves his unconditional infinite love for her and his children a million times over. But we'll see, won't we? DudeNamedDude: Hahaha I, too, enjoyed calling Arthur 'Arthole'. Thanks for reviewing dude! Lauraa-x: Thanks for reviewing both chapters, you're the best! Lol it's never that easy but maybe they'll talk? I would argue that things might get even more complicated now that the woman Eames and Arthur are fighting for is actually conscious. LuluMeng: Exams! hope they went well for you. And hope my story didn't add too much more stress lol. Guest: OK. HERE'S SOME OF THE REST! ;) 221biggestfan: Thank you! Here's an update since you said please. 262626TARDISfan: First...go Doctor Who! love that fandom too. Second, thanks for binge-reading and reviewing. It's mucho appreciated. FiveTwoEightFourNineOne: Thank you :) I doubt that but I feel honored by the compliment just the same. Glad I've been able to sway you on this pairing! Like literally I'm SO EXCITED I've even temporarily converted to a semi A/A shipper. I'm obsessed with these two. Yay! I'm the same way about OC's. I don't normally get attached to them either so to know that you love him and Chloe feels like a big accomplishment. Here's the update! Hope to hear from you again. nObody: I'm sorry! Here's another chapter, please take the nails out of your figurative coffin and do some homework or something lol.

Special thanks to: FiveTwoEightFourNineOne, Hanae M, 262626TARDISfan, HPLucyWeaver and LyraDragonfly for the follows and favorites of both me and my story. It means a lot :D And Hanae M and : for your kind words in my inbox!

xxxxxxx

Chapter 25: Sun And Moon And Stars

Chloe hugged Ariadne's waist with a blissful smile, so glad to hear the woman's voice again. "He's getting Daddy..."

Ariadne's face twisted in confusion. Chloe didn't know Arthur...or she wasn't supposed to. And there was certainly no way he was there in London. She looked at Eames in shock. Was the child talking about him? "Daddy? Who are you calling, Daddy?"

"My Daddy." Chloe emphasized. She wasn't sure what part of that Mommy didn't understand. Why would she call anyone but her dad 'Dad'? That'd just be silly. But to be extra clear, Chloe smiled at her mom and uttered, "Arthur Nicholas Talesco," proud that she knew his full name.

The Architect's face went pale as snow (proving it was indeed possible for the gray pallor of her skin to look even bleaker). "He's here?" Chloe nodded enthusiastically in response. Just like Arthur, she had started to imagine what it'd be like when her parents reunited. She thought Ariadne would be ecstatic and that there'd be hugs and kisses (and heart confetti exploding out of nowhere. Hopefully some celebratory cake too). To the child's great surprise, however, it wasn't a grin that spread across her mother's face but horror...and a little bit of anger too. "What is he doing here?" Chloe opened her mouth before realizing she didn't know what to say. Her pre-meditated clapping and hip-hip-hooray's didn't fit the mood Mommy was in. Ariadne fixed an accusatory stare at her parents first, "What did you do?"

Gerard knelt by her bed, rubbing her hand reassuringly, "We didn't do anything, Ariadne. We didn't even know Chloe had found him until he show—"

"Chloe found him?" she grimaced as her head swiveled to her daughter. Partly because her neck was super stiff. Partly because— how on earth did Chloe track down and bring home a man she never knew about? Ariadne never even told the child his name and Ender was loathed to share any information he knew with his sister.

Squinting, the little one confessed, "When I went to my ballet camp, I kind of...pretended to be Madison and asked him to take care of me while I was there." At the raise of Ariadne's brow, she sat up worriedly, "Don't get mad at them, I kept it from everyone."

"You lied?"

"I'm sorry, Mommy!" rushed out of Chloe's mouth. Ariadne couldn't help but soften when Chloe got misty eyed and bit her lip. "I missed you. And if I couldn't have my Mommy, I wanted my Daddy." The child dove back down to hug the Architect, squeezing her tight to remind herself that she was awake and everything was ok now. "I wanted my real Daddy and he wouldn't have known who 'Chloe' was." She felt Ariadne swallow at that but couldn't see her mother's guilty glance at Shannon. At least when she spoke, the rumble of the Architect's chest gave Chloe a smidge of comfort. "But he knows now...?"

Chloe nodded against Ariadne in time with Shannon's solemn, "He knows everything, yes." Another thing Chloe didn't understand was what Mimi and Mommy were telling each other with their eyes. Did it have something to do with Uncle Eames? Because she caught Mimi's eyes flickering his direction. And sensed the tension in Mommy's body when he lovingly put his hand on the back of her head and kissed the top of it, "I think he understands, Love."

The Architect cursed inwardly. It took her a few minutes to spot the PASIV hidden by everyone's feet on the ground but when she finally did, she was able to piece together that Arthur must've gone under. And when Yusuf emerged in pleasant surprise that she was awake afterall, she figured he, Arthur and Eames had triple-teamed it. That in mind, she wondered if Eames had seen anything about her decision to marry him. He was acting as if he knew...And when Shannon pointedly said Arthur knew everything, Ariadne assumed he knew of her and the Forger's on and off, complicated, relationship. That alone made her uneasy...but now there was a huge possibility he knew about her intentions before the crash too and that made the unease churn about and make her nauseous. (Or maybe that was her empty stomach and the intensity of light after closing her eyes for months). Either way, she wasn't ready to deal with this.

"We're having a long talk about this later," warned Ariadne.

Chloe returned with a pitiful bat of her eyelashes, "Are you upset with me, Mommy?"

"No, I understand why you did it," Ariadne smoothed the hair back from her daughter's forehead to the best of her weak ability. "But I don't like the situation."

To everyone's shock, it was Gerard who swooped in with praise for the Point Man, "It's a blessing in disguise Arthur showed back up, Sweetheart. None of this would be possible. Ender and Eames couldn't have gone under without his help."

"Ender was under?"

Immediately, Eames knew he was in for it. He jumped to defend his motives as she stared him down crossly, "We needed five people we could trus—"

"Could everyone leave?" her eyes narrowed on the Englishman, "I need to speak with Eames privately." Chloe was reluctant to leave her mom so soon after being reunited but Ariadne promised it would only be a few minutes and she'd be very much awake and alive when Chloe was allowed back in. That being agreed, Shannon took Chloe's hand and everyone filed out.

xxxxxxx

"I trusted you," Ariadne breathed in disbelief once the door was securely closed. She made an attempt to push herself up with her hands but her arms were useless. Eames help her sit further up while simultaneously using his lilt and his gentle touch to pacify her temper, "Ari..."

Instead of thanking him for his assistance, she childishly moved her head to keep from making contact with him (even though he had to touch her to adjust her position) until he was standing up and away from her again. "I thought that if anything happened to me, you would protect, watch over and take care of my kids."

Eames looked drastically taken aback. Protecting, watching over and taking care of Ender and Chloe (physically and emotionally) had been his life for the past six months. Every decision he'd made was based on their wellbeing. On how they'd be affected. Of course, Araidne was unconscious during all of it so the only evidence she had to go by was what she woke up to. And admittedly, the confessions spewing from left to right like streamers from a confetti cannon did make the past few months look like a hot mess. He held to what he knew was true though and insisted, "I have."

As scratchy and unreliable as the chords in her voicebox were, the muscles in her face were certainly working perfectly and without strain—As seen by the dumbfounded gape and creased eyebrows sent his direction, "You sent Chloe off to New York alone." Sure the plan was for Ariadne to accompany her but when that fell through, they shouldn't have sent her off to one of the biggest and most dangerous citites in the country all by her lonesome. She would've been wary about sending Ender off alone much less Chloe. Idealistic, friendly to everyone, Chloe. If she'd tracked down the wrong 'Arthur', she could've been kidnapped or sold into gross kid slavery or killed and left in the gutters or all of the above. What was anyone thinking when they put her on that plane? Oh yeah...they probably WEREN'T.

"I made sure she had a legitimate dorm and chaperone at the ballet school," Eames added coolly. He was more responsible than she chose to acknowledge. He'd had a solid and safe plan of action for Chloe. She was going to stay in the school with a bunch of other little girls under a 24/7 watchful eye. He background checked the instructors that'd be chaperoning her. He made sure her meals and anything else she might need or want was paid for. He called the child regularly. It wasn't his fault Chloe undermined him. "How was I supposed to know she'd found out about Arthur, much less hunted him down?"

Again, Ariadne looked at him like he was the most idiotic neanderthal to grace Planet Earth, "She's eight years old! How could you not know she was up to something? She's always up to something! You should've kept better track of her. Or called the Miles' or my parents if you weren't willing to." If he was paying enough attention to her, Chloe would've never gotten away with it. How hard is it to realize a shuttle from the airport and a dorm room were cancelled? He never spoke with her teachers? Because surely they would've mentioned a suited man dropping Chloe off and picking her up.

"I was willing. More than, and you know it." He paced to just under the tv so he could pull the plug and get it to shut up. "I did my best!" Eames pulled at his hair (which very obviously needed washing from the way it remained upright), "You have no idea how utterly overwhelmed I was; I was trying to save you—"

Ariadne raised her voice and jolted her upper body forward, "By neglecting my children?!" The move proved to take too much exertion out of her. Despite the argument, Eames rushed to guide her back against the headboard as she blinked from the dizziness and fought to catch her breath. "Why would you let my son use the PASIV? You know I would never under any circumstances want him exposed to that."

"I didn't w—" stuttered the Forger, as his comforting hand on hers was denied. As her fingers stuttered to pull into a fist at her side. He sighed, "Ender insisted."

"So naturally you were forced to obey my thirteen year old," the shrapnel-like sarcasm of hers was as sharp as ever but it didn't hold a candle to the piercing edges of her eyes.

He raised his eyebrows and pointed to her. No way was he taking the brunt of this. He had fought longest and hardest to keep Ender from being involved. He'd been the sole person championing her would-be thoughts on that idea. He didn't deserve to be berated for being outnumbered. "Everyone agreed it was a risk worth taking. Even your parents. Everyone was on board. "

Ariadne went into panic mode with the 'what if's. Something that always seemed more suited to the Point Man than to her. She was the laid back one. (Careful when it came to her children but not anal or overprotective). "You know how many weird things he's allergic to, what if he had a reaction? What if he went into anaphylactic shock? What if the sedative doses were off and he never woke up."

She delved head first into overreaction. Over things that hadn't happened. Everything was alright, there was no need to go back and rehash what never was. Still, Eames understood her fears. Understood it was a lot to take in. Understood that anyone would go batshit with nerves and anxiety after waking up and finding out six months had past. And that they were at death's door. And that the ex they've been hiding from was now miraculously there. And their kids were put in danger's way for their sake...Ok...her what if's were justified. Less defensive, more informative, he ploughed on, "We were very careful about it. Yusuf calculated it meticulously. Even gave E a lighter dose than required, in case. I'm sorry but we needed him."

"I don't care," her head shook.

"He was on one of the bottom levels. They were blank anyway. No projections, no anything. He was a placeholder. All he did was sit and wait to wake up."

Huffing both from lack energy and agitation, Ariadne lashed out again, "I don't care if he was napping, sipping lemonade or riding projected ponies and having a grand ole time...the point is I never wanted him to go under. I never wanted Somnacin in his bloodstream. Period. And you knew that. We've talked about that."

xxxxxxx

Hospitals weren't the most joyous places on earth in general (unless you were visiting a healthy newborn) and Arthur didn't add any hope for the people trickling in and out to see loved ones. He was huddled near one of the side entrances in an outside seating area that stretched out into a carport. The concrete pillar keeping the carport from collapsing on unsuspecting patients, personnel and visitors was the Point's only source of strength. It was very visibly, the only thing keeping him halfway on his feet. The column was doing its part but Arthur's legs weren't working with it.

His jacket was neatly folded somewhere up in Ariadne's room—the only piece of clothing that still looked decent. His tie was wrenched off and lying in the walkway, muddied. Very few people took care to step around it as they shook their umbrellas clear of raindrops. The top buttons of his shirt were scattered in one of the hospital's stairwells. He ripped half his shirt open in desperation to breathe before he realized that without Ariadne there was no oxygen thus he could pull out his lungs, manually pump them with air and still suffocate. He'd ran in the rain before latching onto his pillar so he was thoroughly soaked. Clothes sufficiently wrinkled. And the nasty red clay chosen to fill the plant beds with was hardening on the hem of his pant legs and once shining shoes. He was passed the point of throwing and knocking things over (the waiting room by the emergency entrance looked like a hurricane hit it. They'd be mopping the coffee off the floor for days) and he was passed the point of wracking with sobs and making every person that glanced at him uncomfortable to the point of sympathy tears.

Now he was limply propped against the pillar. His arms dangling at his sides. Numb. Looking as braindead as he believed Ariadne to be. It felt like he heard his son from underwater. "Dad? Dad!" The boy's footsteps got closer and louder but Arthur couldn't bear to meet Ender's eyes. Even if he could, he felt too heavy to move. Too lethargic. Like he was doped up on Nyquil or something. "Dad!"

"I'm so sorry, Ender—It wasn't enough." He croaked, his forehead pressed into the concrete cylinder, "I wasn't enough. I failed her. I failed you..."

"No—" Ender pulled him up by the collar and forced him to see his smile, "she's awake." Arthur blinked. Clutched at the pockets of his pants for an object that gave him comfort. When instead of jumping up and down for joy, Arthur sucked in a huge breath and gripped at the column for dear life, Ender was perplexed. What part of that happy news didn't he understand? The teenager stared in confused horror as Arthur heaved hysterically. Like he was being choked by an invisible assailant. The fingernails of one hand started to bleed from digging into the concrete pillar and his other hand clutched his exposed chest. Was he having a heart attack or a stroke? "Dad, it worked," repeated Ender, scared out of his wits at the strangeness, "We did it; it worked. Mom's awake." The boy frantically sifted through a list of other ways he could phrase it for Arthur to grasp what he was trying to excitedly tell him. "It's ok. Everything's ok, now..."

Arthur finally stood for Ender to see an ocean of relief and happiness draining from his father's eyes and a smile so big it was the only thing you could see when you looked at him. He pulled Ender into the tightest bear hug he'd ever experienced but the boy didn't mind. He was just as happy; he returned the constricting squeeze and clapped his father on the back. When Arthur let go, Ender wasted no time seizing his sleeve and pulling him inside. "She's still super weak physically. But her mental capacities are functioning at a normal level," informed Ender pleasantly as they stepped out of the elevator on her floor.

The Point Man was ecstatic to hear that. Knowing that in worst case scenario she was awake but paralyzed or awake and nothing but a body housing a cooked vegetable. Arthur promised her in the dream that he'd be there when she woke up and maybe he wasn't there the second she opened her eyes but he was still there. She doubted he'd come for her but he couldn't wait to prove her wrong. Couldn't wait to step into that hospital room and see the surprise on her face. He couldn't stand the minutes, the hallway of steps between imagining her, dreaming of her, and meeting her eyes with his. In reality. Both of them conscious. In an afterthought, he re-tucked his shirt into his pants and did his best to improve the appearance of his outfit. At first, Ender didn't pay much mind to the group of people locked outside his mom's room. He was busy sharing in Arthur's anticipation over his parents' reunion, "I can't wait for her to see you and realize you were actua—"

"You were DYING, Ariadne!" Eames' robust tone boomed.

"I don't care!" a more labored voice disputed, "I'd rather be dead than watch my son turn into Arthur."

The Point stopped on a dime. While it took Ender longer to process what he'd heard and skid to a halt, his face fell into despondency just the same. On his way to gaze back at his dad, Ender exchanged glances with his Mimi. It was simple enough to put together that Ariadne was livid Ender entered the dream. They all knew she would be; who told her? Oh...Mimi cut her eyes towards Papa who grimaced and kept silent by sipping coffee. Ender sighed at Arthur, "She didn't mean that."

"He's not going to, Darling," Eames coaxed on. His intonation haggard from going round in circles with her. "He went under out of necessity. Out of worry for you. Not out of any desire to dream."

The stubbornness they all loved her for (or despite of) reared it's head. The lack of solidity in her voice made it sound like more of a whine than a protest when she countered, "But the desire will come. He's had a taste of it. And he was a natural, wasn't he?" Silence. Because she was right. Andrew was every bit as born to dream and create and destroy as his mother. And that meant he was most likely every bit as obsessive compulsive and prone to adrenaline addiction as his father. In Ariadne's logic, if Ender inherited Ariadne's tendency to be dangerously curious, he also inherited Arthur's tendency to abandon. "He has me and Arthur in him...he's got the perfect genetic makeup to get swept away by that world and his inevitable success in it."

The boy leaned against the door frame and blew out his cheeks when Eames jumped to nullify her fears, "Ender's not going to run away with the PASIV and join a life of mind crime. First off, he's too young; no one will take him. And Second, he's seen what it does to people first hand. He loves you and Chloe and the rest of his family too much to run away and become a ghost for dreaming." For once, since Uncle Eames started speaking for and annoying the boy, Ender agreed with him. And was thankful for the faith he had.

"Love isn't an anchor! It holds no security or promise." Ender winced when Ariadne spat that out. Because bitter as it was, it was the truth. And when she sourly added: "Especially not for Talesco's. Our broken home is proof of that," he shot his gaze worriedly towards his dad to gauge how he was taking it. Arthur's face left little to be analyzed aside from the barely traceable crease between his eyebrows. Ender didn't need to witness a scene of tragic flailing or weeping. A simple close of Arthur's eyes and hard swallow were all the clues Ender needed to know it stung. How could it not? "What's to say that at eighteen or twenty-one, he won't go seeking out dream-work? Who's to say my baby boy won't walk out that door with a silver briefcase one day and never come back?!"

"He's not Arthur!" it sounded like the words were ripped from his rib cage.

"THE HELL HE'S NOT. JUST LOOK AT HIM." Chloe flinched on the bench. All at once, every pair of eyes in the vicinity took note of Arthur and Ender. The similar way they were dressed. The similar way they stood. And while the stares weren't scrutinizing, they were awkward and unwarranted. "The slicked back hair, the three piece suit, the steel in his eyes. YOU let that happen!"

Ender and Arthur's eyes fell on each other. What once made Arthur proud, made him feel ashamed. "I should go."

"No, Dad," Ender grasped at the man's wrist, "Wait."

("Get out of my room.")

Arthur's head shook with melancholy but acceptance, "She doesn't want to see me. She's not ever going to want to. She hates me and forcing an audience with her will do nothing to help or change that."

("Darling...please just list—")

"She doesn't hate you. I know she doesn't. She's upset about me." Ender shrugged hopefully, "I'll go in and I'll fix it and she'll talk to you. Just wait."

"I can't look at you. Please leave before I say something we'll both regret," Arthur and Ender stepped back to give Eames space as he slumped out of the room and down the hall.

xxxxxxx

"Alright, I'll be back with more ice chips. And I'll let you know when the doctors have decided on a PT schedule."

"Thank you so much," Shannon enthusiastically shook the nurse's hand as the Miles' and Yusuf said their goodbyes to the Architect (and the kids in bed with her). Yusuf was scheduled to get on a plane the next afternoon (he offered to stay and help keep an eye on her medically but she insisted he go back to his wife) and hadn't re-packed a single pair of socks. Due to the urgency of the job and his dismissal of anything that wasn't chemicals or beakers, his belongings were scattered all over his room without rhyme or reason. He hoped he could find all of it.

Miles and his wife were nothing but a train ride away. If they were going to catch the next one and be home in time for dinner, they needed to leave promptly. They promised to visit twice a week at the very least (Miles was increasingly nervous and hesitant to leave her so soon despite doing his best to act cavalier).

When the room was mostly vacated Ender brought it up again. He spent a long while assuring his mother he had no plans or ideals about growing up and living a life of mind crime which she was happy to hear him stress but when his conversation (not so suavely) transitioned into the matter of her and his father needing to talk, Ariadne danced around the subject. She had Chloe surf the channels for a good movie and complained of a headache so he'd leave it be. An hour of fairy tale motion pictures, two tylenol and a styrofoam cup of ice chips later, Ender tried a second time. "Just let him see you awake, Mom," he suggested, eyes fluttering towards the door. Arthur had been sitting outside her room on that uncomfortable waiting bench all day. Staring at the floor. Hanging on the scraps he could hear of her voice around the corner and through the thin walls. "Like let him peek his head in for a second or something."

"No."

Ender felt guilty. He begged his Dad to wait and let him smooth Ariadne's fears out. Told him (basically promised) that Ariadne would like to see him once she calmed down and settled in. It'd been hours and Mom hadn't so much as asked about him (after she woke up, Ender ran off to 'get Dad' and then Dad never appeared. Ender came back in without him. You'd think she wonder about that...) "But—"

"I'm content to sit here, cuddle with my babies and watch tv. We've been through enough, I don't want to complicate today any more by having your father or Uncle Eames trudge in." She rubbed where they had pulled her arms around their shoulders. Kissed the top of Chloe's head, "I want it to be just the three of us for now." And tilted her head sideways to rest her cheek against her son's temple, "Any objections?"

Chloe had a one-track mind at the moment. And it was all about Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. She couldn't stand herself, she had missed Ariadne so much. And she was so overjoyed that she was glued to Ariadne's hip and breath and every word. So for the moment, her Mommy (who she thought she was gonna lose but miraculously didn't! Yay!) was all that mattered. Chloe nestled against Ariadne's chest and hugged her waist cheerily. "Nope!"

Ender struggled to let it go. Don't get it wrong: he missed Ariadne just as much as Chloe. And he was dreading leaving her at the end of the day just as much as his little sister. But he also couldn't help thinking about the man responsible for bringing her back to them. And the fact that he was sitting pitifully alone and heartbroken in the hallway. Ariadne and Chloe were in the middle of sharing a surprised face at the events onscreen when Ender blurted, "You just don't realize how much he's put himself through the past few weeks for us to be together again."

"Enough about it. The coma, the crash, this fault and that fault...unless it pertains to Snow White and the Huntsman, I don't want to hear it." She urged Chloe to turn the volume up.

"But it's not fair to shut him out without any gratitude for what he's done. It's not like you."

"I will thank him, Ender," Ariadne assured, full of irritation, "just not today." Chloe lifted her head and sent a look of warning her brother's way. He ground his teeth, forced himself to watch the movie.
xxxxxxx

"Arthur?" Ender rapped on the guest room's door. Mimi and Papa both stayed at the hospital that night and Uncle Eames was spending the night with Mr. Yusuf to help him test the sedatives. Chloe and Penny fell asleep on the couch while watching Annie (much to no one's surprise). "I had some questions on what we went over in training today," he murmured through the crack of the door, the cool air from inside the room hitting him in the face. "Arthur?" he pushed the creaking door open, "Can I come in?"

Ender bit the bullet (and his lip) and tip-toed into the dark room. The only light came from the cracks of the adjoining bathroom's door. He could just make out a man's figure slumped against the side of the bed, his chin rested against his chest and his arms limp at his sides. There was a steady hiss in the corner of the room which Ender concluded was the PASIV (that's what it was called, right?) as he got closer. Curiosity hit the boy like a freight train. He'd always been more logical and cautious like his father, at least more so than Chloe, but sometimes his mother's side won. Before hooking himself up, he crept back to the door and made sure Chloe was still blissfully asleep. Then he locked himself in.

He should've paid more attention when they hooked him up before. He wasn't sure which vein they punctured but he guessed it was the most prominent one? Not one of the tiny purple or green that were barely visible. Shouldn't there be a welt from earlier? Oh, his other wrist. Carefully (because he had no idea what the heck he was doing), Ender inserted the cannula. The piercing pain (shoot, he must have put it in too roughly or at the wrong angle...) didn't last long before the wave of sleepiness (and drugs) washed him to sleep. He wasn't used to the sudden change in altitude—going from lying down to standing up abruptly—but he regained his footing sufficiently. He was in a long hallway...stretched out like laffy taffy. A version of somewhere he remembered from a dream. Or a dream within a dream. Or his childhood? He took a step forward, accidentally breaking a toy model of Tony the Firetruck. Ender remembered him...

Ender also remembered the table in the middle of the hall with that green, geometric-shaped lamp sat on top. He remembered the constant smell of French pastry and the feel of the royal blue rug beneath his feet, between his toes. This was their house in Paris. It looked so much bigger when he was five...Something in his gut, kept him from calling out for the Point Man. Something told him that staying quiet and observing his surroundings was the smarter thing to do. After shoving his hands in his pockets, he slinked down the hall without goal.

"ARIADNE, ANSWER ME DAMMIT!" Out of the blue, he heard Arthur's voice coming out of one of the rooms so he headed towards that. "ARI! ANDREW!" The boy stopped just short of the doorway. He heard pacing and doors opening and closing. "NO, NO, PLEASE. DON'T DO THIS TO ME!" Ender held his breath and stuck his head around the corner. It was Arthur but a holographic version of him. And the room extended into a replica of their living room, and their kitchen and hallway. The ones in Paris. Ender jumped back when the projection flipped over one of the love seats, "ARI!" and doubled over, grasping his head.

Ender backed away and peeked into the room on the other side of the hall...it was a closet. A half empty one at that and Arthur was curled up inside it with a bunched up yellow note in one hand and a phone in the other. He ignored Ender even as he stood openly in the doorway, choosing to put his entire focus on his phone call, "Me again. Ari, please pick up and talk to me about this. I just want—I just need to—I need your voice." The man hung up, took a swig from a bottle, and redialed.

"Arthur..." Ender recognized another familiar voice from his childhood. Uncle Dom. Somewhere behind him? No in another room. In the next room up. The little boy would recognize the greasy blonde hair and tired looking stance from anywhere. Ender remembered Uncle Dom happier than Ariadne and Arthur knew him to be but even a happy image of Uncle Dom was one swirled with a cloudiness a child couldn't place. The Extractor was always cheery in front of the kids but even as a little boy, Ender picked up on the sorrow hiding behind the glass of his eyes. The droop of his posture when he thought the children weren't paying attention. Adults had such a habit of that, didn't they? Or at least all the ones Ender ever knew. They carried weights of worlds on their shoulders and thought they were sneaky enough that they could collapse from that weight where and when the kids couldn't see. Ender was never a normal child though...somehow he always caught the sorrow. He always picked up on the tiny details. "Arthur, you need to go to bed. It's been days since you've even closed your eyes." Uncle Dom pulled at the man sitting on a couch. Arthur deadpanned, "I can't sleep." Dom huffed, "You won't try." When Arthur ignored him, Uncle Dom marched to stand in front of Arthur and block his view of the door he was staring at, "Ariadne's not—" The Point Man covered his ears and doubled over, "Don't say her name. Please don't say her name..." Sympathetically, Cobb took Arthur's shoulders, "Staring at the door won't make her walk through it."

Were these memories? And where was the real Arthur? Turned out, he was down in the last room of the hallway, straight ahead from where Ender first appeared. Unfortunately, the boy had to pass rooms and rooms filled with Arthur's locked away anguish and it was a tad traumatic. The stillness of the last room was a welcome change from the frantic agony inside all the other ones. But where Ender expected Arthur to be sitting...instead it was Ariadne. On the edge of the bed. Hands in lap. In all white pajamas and her favorite red robe. Patiently listening to the man at her feet. Arthur was knelt in front and sort of to the side of her, idly picking at the foot of her pants leg. One hand on casually placed on her knee. Whispering, "I'm afraid I'll find you and you still won't wake up. Or you can't."

"All you can do is try, Arthur," she combed his hair back.

"If you can't wake up, I won't want to come back. I'd rather let my brain rot next to yours."

Watching his parents be mushy and romantic should've grossed Ender out. And it did to a point...but he was also in awe of what they had. Sure, it wasn't really Mom. It was a projection (a fake copy basically). But the sweetness, the tenderness...they were sides of his parents he hadn't seen (at least in a long time). Mom never smoothed Uncle Eames' hair like that. And he'd never seen Arthur so quiet. So malleable. So entranced...

Ariadne sighed and traced his cheek, "You have to. The kids. Don't do it for me, do it for them. Even if I wake up, I can't guarantee the kids won't still be all that's left of us."

Ender remembered moments like this from when he was little. Waking up in the middle of the night and lazily padding into the living room. Seeing his parents whispering with small smiles. Usually doing nothing but holding hands and watching tv or falling asleep on each other. Chloe never saw them happily married. Ender could barely recall it himself. But seeing his parents together again made him feel more at home and at ease than he'd felt since he didn't know when. His house in London with Mom and Chloe was always what he thought about when he thought of home and he loved it. It was comfortable and happy. But with Arthur back in the picture (even just for a moment), he realized something had been missing. And he wanted it back for all of them.

Arthur leaned into her touch, "I wish you still loved me. I'd do anything to go back and—"

"I know," she cut him off, "She knows."

He rejected, "She doesn't. Or she doesn't believe it."

"What are you doing?" hissed a little girl from behind Ender as she whipped him around by the wrist.

Did she wake up? How did she get into Arthur's room with the door locked? How'd she hook herself up to the PASIV, no way she knew how. "Chloe?"

"You shouldn't be here," she sneered. To be stabbed in the gut (literally) by your little sister is an out of this world experience. Being stabbed at all was. He was surprised he was able to realistically imagine what it would feel like. Though he admitted it was probably influenced by tv shows or movies he'd seen. He dropped to the floor, coughing blood dramatically, before keeling over. Initially the blade hurt like any cut would. Like a paper cut times one hundred but after that...he had nothing to go on. So he went numb, collapsed and voila, he was awake.

xxxxxxx

It was so upsetting. Ender witnessed both sides of the coin. And they had no idea that they basically felt the same way. They did the same things. They both had grief and regrets. They both blamed it on themselves. Just thinking about it, Ender couldn't hold conversation in. "I've seen him go to pieces over you—over us." He gestured to Chloe, "We both have." Then the room and the door, "Everyone has."

"I'm sorry," she genuinely apologized and kissed Ender's head then Chloe's again. Her face hardening slightly while trying to stare intently at the movie. "It's wrong for him to do that in front of you."

Ender sat up and crossed his arms, "He doesn't. He does it behind closed doors when he thinks no one's around. Like you..."

Ariadne blanched, "Andrew."

"I just—" he began to recant. Understanding he was being disrespectful.

"Whatever is between your father and I, is between your father and I. You're the kid; it's not your burden. It's not your burnt bridge to fix. Leave it. Or go home for a bit." He chose to stay, of course. He was paranoid about leaving and coming back to find she slipped back into a coma or that he'd dreamed the whole thing. He scooted down to rest his head on her shoulder and shut up, catching Chloe pursing her lips. She was just as disappointed her parents hadn't run into each other's arms and re-declared their love again as her brother was.
xxxxxxx

As expected, when it was time to go, saying Chloe was reluctant was a colossal understatement. She cried and clung to Ariadne like a baby koala. If this was what it was like once Ariadne was awake and well, she couldn't imagine the stress and turmoil for her children when they thought she was dying. It broke Ariadne's heart. "No! Mommy please let me stay!" Ariadne did her best to wipe Chloe's tears from her cheeks and calm her down, "Baby, I need to rest and so do you. The bed isn't big enough."

"Is too," Chloe shoved her face into the crook of Ariadne's neck, "All three of us fit in it earlier."

The Architect was at a loss for a denial of that, "Yes but how hard would it be for us to sleep like that all night?" Rubbing her daughter's back seemed to make the child only cry harder, "Then I'll sleep on the floor, Mommy, please don't make me leave you..."

Shannon took Chloe's shoulder and tried to peel her off even as the kid coiled away and swatted her off, "We'll be back again tomorrow, Birdie." Her soft tone was in vivid contrast to the prying apart of Chloe's fingers after she indignantly clasped them behind Ariadne's back.

Tears streaming down her tomato-colored face, the little girl rested her chin on Ariadne's chest, "I have to watch over you! What if you can't wake up again after you go to sleep?"

"I promise I will," Ariadne kissed her forehead, "I promise, I promise. Sweetie, go home and get some rest, please, for me." Following two more kisses on the child's head, Chloe sniffled and went limp so her Papa could pick her up off her Mommy...but she still reached for Ariadne's hand and held it until her grandpa moved too far away from the bed for her to keep holding on. "Have sweet dreams, Mommy," she hiccuped. Really poking at Ariadne's bleeding heart and softening the woman's resolve, "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Ariadne smiled comfortingly, blowing the girl kisses while she waved and cried, defeated.

Ender swung his backpack on his shoulder then leaned down to kiss Ariadne's cheek, "Love you." And she returned it. "Love you, Booger." As he was heading out, he stopped in the door and looked back at her over his shoulder. Ariadne could sense his anxiety. Could sense that while he was too old make the same scene Chloe did, he felt the same way on in the inside. So she forced her lips to upturn, "I'll be fine."

He jogged back and dove to hug her all while she reassured and pet the back of his head, "Everything's going to be ok, now. It's over. The scary part is over and I'm going to be just fine. Trust me. I'll be just as awake as I am now, next time you see me." He nodded against her. She laughed and joked, "Unless I'm napping but even then I promise you, I'll wake up with a tap or a pinch." Ender promised back, wiping at his face while he stood, "I'll make sure Chloe's ok." With one last pat of his cheek from Ariadne, he braved to leave.

Shannon was the last out. Or rather, the last 'almost' out. She paused with her hand on the handle before her foot crossed the thresh hold and poked her head out the door, "You guys wait in the hallway, I need to talk to Addy." She was buttoning her light sweater after she closed the door and turned around. With her face of determination on, no less.

But before she opened her mouth, Ariadne wrapped her arms across her waist, "No, Mom."

"No, what?" Shannon asked trying to sound innocent. Though the look on her face gave away that she knew exactly what Ariadne was rejecting.

To be fair, her mom had closed the door. Meaning she didn't want the people in the hallway to hear what she was saying. Thus it was most likely about someone in the hallway. Thanks to Ender's earlier prodding and constant reminders of who was out there, Ariadne could guess who. She looked at her feet, or rather the humps that pinpointed where they were under the covers. "I'm not ready to see him."

"He's been waiting out in that hallway all day," Shannon put her hands on her hips, "He hasn't moved from that bench since you woke up."

"No one's stopping him from coming in. I can't exactly throw him out in my physical state. He could waltz in here if he wanted to."

"He refuses unless you 'expressly call for it.'"

Ariadne chided, "He's dreaming if he thinks I'm going to ask him to come in here. I'm not going to ask him for anything." Oh really? He didn't deign to grace her with his presence unless she asked him nicely? Screw that, she thought. They weren't doing this on his terms. Why should they?

Shannon shot her daughter a critical look, "You know he doesn't mean that in any way but that he doesn't want to force his presence on you."

"Then why are you trying to?" retorted the Architect. "Mom, I'm not—I'm not—" she was affronted and indignant at first. But as she was speaking, her train of thought switched and she realized that her confidence wasn't confidence. It was nerves. Thinking about seeing him didn't make her feel angry or vengeful or sad...it made her feel nervous. A little embarrassed even. Her head shook for no reason, "I never thought I'd see him again. And now he's here and I'm—I'm not ready to answer all his questions." Her head fell back against the headboard so she could stare at the ceiling rather than her mom as she revealed, "I don't think I'm strong enough to even look him in the eye much less...explain things to him. Hear his explanations. I'm not ready to talk about the past or the future or anything. I'm not so sure I can—or want—to give him what he might ask for."

Shannon didn't see the harm in a quick, in and out, visit out of courtesy. After all he'd done...it wasn't as if she was trying to convince Ariadne into having a heart to heart about their old marriage. "Visiting hours are almost over. At the most he'll be in here five minutes."

"I just woke up from a six month coma," Ariadne slapped the mattress at her side like a teenager haven't a fit, "can I not have a day?!"

"He didn't do any of this expecting something from you," reminded Shannon, moving to take a seat on the side of Ariadne's hospital bed. "He's been extremely selfless...He's not going to come in here and demand you repay him or make it up to him in some way—"

Ariadne sighed. Her mom had a point. "I know."

"Do you?"

"Yes. Because I know him. He wouldn't expect but he would hope...and there's no hope for us. It was hard enough to break it to him the first time. And even then I couldn't do it to his face. I had to run away and leave a note."

Even though she had it herself. Even though she's where Ariadne got it from, Shannon was still aggravated with her daughter's hard headed-ness. This wasn't about past mistakes or feelings or anything like that. This was about the principle of the thing. Arthur brought Ariadne back to life for them all and he deserved to be thanked for it. "He hasn't slept in weeks. He has put countless hours, sweat, tears and money into doing whatever it took to bring you back to us. He saved your life and not for his own gain but simply to reunite the three people he loves most. All this and he still sits outside your room through lunch, through dinner, like a puppy dog, waiting on your beck and call. You may not owe him a lot, but you owe him a thank you, Ariadne Grace." With her two cents said, Shannon up and marched out.

"Wait." Ariadne huffed. "Send him in."

xxxxxxx

Shannon told him Ariadne asked for him to be sent in and yet he still second-guessed himself as his hand turned the doorknob. The rest of the family was heading down to pull the car around but he caught Ender's eye just before he disappeared around the corner, giving him a boost of encouragement. His hands were almost too clammy to properly twist the knob and even after he'd accomplished that feat he froze before he could push the door open. Composure. He needed composure. He couldn't open the door and fall at her feet. He couldn't burst into tears or song. He had to follow her lead. Let her steer the conversation. He had to be modest, collected and silent. Just take what little she felt comfortable enough to share.

Ariadne was overwrought with tension which couldn't be good for her healing process. Her muscles were weak enough, she didn't need to add stiffness to the mix. It felt like she was fixing to be interviewed and it was terrifying; The awful anticipation of having questions spouted out at you with no time to formulate a sensible answer. To keep her nerves at bay, she focused on getting a slight head start at physical therapy: wiggling her toes and pointing and flexing her feet while she waited. Hot damn, how long did it take to stand up from a bench and open a door? She couldn't decide which she'd prefer. Him to continue taking his sweet time or him hurrying up and getting this the hell over with.

Then boom.

He was in her peripheral vision. And heaven help her, just the silhouette of him—more shadow and vague blur of colors than anything—was enough to make her heart stop. It was enough to jump back fifteen years and feel his thumb rubbing her wrist after a nightmare for the first time. It was enough to remind her how tight her chest constricted, watching her beloved Paris sink farther and farther beneath the clouds the day she left.

Arthur sidestepped against the wall. Unsure of what to do. She had to have sensed him enter but she refused to look at him. Did Shannon lie just to get him in there? He shifted on his feet, rubbed his index finger along the edge of the note in his pocket. Her note. Steadfastly sawing himself a paper cut just to have some other pain to think about. Then boom. She looked up. Goodnight and goodbye, he heard her repeat in his head. The last words she'd spoken to him (not counting the dream of course). Maybe it should've amped up his nervousness. Perhaps her gaze should've scared him or guilted him or made him recoil. Maybe he should've felt self conscious under her stare. But no, he felt..

Alive again. Pulled from a grave he'd been buried alive in. Everything about him relaxed and calmed to a stillness that could rival the eye of a storm in the middle of an ocean. He felt warm, safe, and home. He'd been wandering through this country and that, been sleepwalking through the streets of New York, like a gypsy. A man who materialistically had everything but might as well live in a cardboard box behind a dumpster. Her eyes, her eyelashes, that was home. That was his home. He breathed, "Hi."

And she whispered back, "Hi." However, whereas Arthur couldn't get enough, couldn't take all of her in quickly or completely enough to feed his hungry, yearning, soul...Ariadne couldn't take it at all. A look in his eyes was all she needed to be reminded how much and how deeply she still cared for him. But that care, that sentiment, that love...it was inter-weaved with insurmountable pain and regret and sadness. Gazing at her, Arthur remembered things could be built and rebuilt. Gazing at him, Ariadne could only remember that things crumble. Thus, her gaze darted back to her feet so she could diplomatically say what she called him in to say: "I wanted to thank you for saving my life."

"Of course," his eyebrows raised as he took a step forward. Thinking that perhaps a lesser distance would demand her beautiful caramel eyes to return to him.

"Not just for me but for Ender and Chloe. And my parents..." her feeble hand reached for the cup on the tray beside her and put it to her lips. She needed water. Lots of it. The sound of his breathing made her throat dry. "I can't tell you how grateful I am for all you've done, really." She did mean it. She was grateful. How could she not be? But it certainly didn't sound genuine. More like she was fed the lines and told to restate them in under ten seconds. (Because frankly she just wanted to speed this along and get him out of there).

Arthur didn't mind. He only cared about her words at this point, not how they were delivered. He jumped to apologize (another failed ploy to earn a glance), "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke like I promised. I mean, I was here but I—when you didn't wake up right away, I feared the worst and—"

Ariadne shook her head, a polite upturn of lips and a dismissal, "No, it's ok. I didn't expect you to be here for me." Unfortunately, Arthur got the glance he was so desperate for in the same second his gaze dropped to the ground dispiritedly. It took a split-second after Ariadne uttered it that she realized he could've taken more of a connotation from it than she meant. That he might've taken it as a dig about abandonment (and hell she had no room to talk. She abandoned him just as he had her). So she stammered to correct herself, "And by that I mean I didn't realize you were actually there in my dream. I thought you were a projection so I didn't assume you'd..." her words died out. Timing would have it, that she rolled her eyes at herself and fixed her stare back on her feet in the same moment he hopefully raised his stare from the ground. The woman sipped more water, "Are you staying...where are you...?"

"I've been staying on your couch," right away he lifted his hands and fought to deflect any possible offense she might take, "I hope that's alright. Your mother and Ender insisted." He took another two steps forward. He would've taken more but she pressed back into the bed as if his movement made her uncomfortable. Arthur offered, "I can go somewhere else if—"

"No, no," refused the Architect with another shake of her head. "The least we could do is give you somewhere to stay." Ariadne's eyes fluttered to the ceiling, feigning interest in something Arthur knew wasn't interesting in the slightest. Just an excuse not to meet his looks of longing. "How long are you planning to be here?"

Arthur took a deep breath and smoothed his hair back as part of a nervous tick, "Until you're clear. I wanted to be available to help with the children—or anything, really— so your parents could go back home, if and when need be."

"Oh." Ariadne definitely wasn't expecting that. Then again, she didn't know exactly what response she was expecting. The guess at the most forefront of her mind was that he'd probably be hopping on a plane that night or sometime the next day. That he had some kind of job or task he needed to be anywhere else but there for. And that wasn't bitterness talking just a legitimate idea. "Thank you. That's kind of you."

God, if she only knew how bad he needed her to look at him...his skin was crawling. Every second that passed without locking eyes with her was another paper thin slice across his chest. Could she not sense it? That he was bleeding all over this hospital room for her? When she gave him his freedom, she took everything else. He had nothing but a collection. A collection of shattered pieces of himself swept into a pile and then folded up into the note in his pocket. And yet, here he was. Willing to give and give and give just so she'd feel the obligation to look at him. Two weeks without sleep, several billion dollars...he saved her life and he didn't care to claim any debt from her besides a flash of golden brown. "I—If there's anything else I can do..."

Ariadne was adamant but at the same time modest, "I couldn't ask you to do anything else for me."

But there it was. By some miracle, that sentence gave cause for to cast him a glance. A glance which only made him want to peel the firmament from it's place and hand it to her on a silver platter. He only wanted to give more. And more. And more. Until it hurt. Then again, until it didn't hurt anymore. "No, please do," he furrowed his eyebrows and beseeched, grabbing onto the rail foot board of her bed, "Please ask me to do something for you. Anything." Arthur marginally leaned forward in anticipation. Not only did her line of sight remain trained on him but she licked her lips in thought as well and damn, it felt like he was free falling.

"Well could—"

"Yes," he agreed—vowed—instantaneously. Too eager; he kicked himself in the ass for it two seconds later.

"What?" Ariadne reeled back, confused.

Honestly, Arthur was too caught up to follow what was happening either, "What?"

"I didn't—"

"I'm sorry." He grimaced. Wow, it'd gotten awkward. "Go ahead."

No no no no no no, her turned peek out the window idly and sip the last of her water, "I know the kids will want to visit a lot but they've spent enough time in a hospital. Could you make sure they have some fun in what's left of their summer?"

He nodded, "I'd be happy to."

"Thank you," her lips pursed politely in some weird form of a half-smile. Shakily, she labored to stretch her arm and return her cup to the tray but her muscles were tired enough from holding the cup so long. Arthur swooped in, "Here, let me get that."

The world stopped for both of them when their fingers brushed. Arthur saw a flicker of change in Ariadne's face. Saw some of her walls melt. Then boom. Or crash rather. The cup slid between both their hands and broke into bits on the floor. Now it wasn't glass so it wasn't too dangerous but it was still a hard plastic and still all over the place. Ariadne flinched back while Arthur reflexively squatted to collect the bigger pieces with a curse. "Dammit. I'm sorry, it's—"

"It's ok; I'm sure the nurses can get it."

The few larger sections that he was able to gather, he placed on the rolling tray by her bed and that's when they met stares again. Arthur just couldn't help but blurt it. It was inevitable, "God, I love you..."

Right away, she frowned and her head shook, "Arthur—"

The man assumed her discouragement had something to do with her (sort of recent) marital decision and it's effect on her loyalty to Eames, "I know, I'm sorry. But it's the truth. I regret it not being the last thing I said to you that night. I never thought I'd lay eyes on you again but here you are and I have to say it. I love you—"

"I don't want to do this right now."

"You're still my sun and moon and stars—"

"Arthur we're not getting into all this tonight."

"—and I've dreamed of you. Every single night. You don't know how much I've missed you—"

"Stop. I don't want to hear any of this!"

"God, Ari, I just love—I love you—"

Thank God (for Ariadne at least), a nurse barged in and kindly stated, "Visiting hours are now over, Sir. I need you to head out."

He supposed it was punishment for his outburst of unsolicited affections when the Architect tore her eyes away again. When she stared at her feet instead of into him as she murmured, "Goodnight and goodbye." Cutting him with their last words to each other purposefully out of spite.

He couldn't bring himself to say it back as he was ushered out.
xxxxxxx

Ok. Thoughts? Obviously, they still love each other but loving each other was never the question. Don't be fooled by her fight with Eames. He's still in the picture and will be back next chapter.