Idle hands are the devil's playground. He remembered his father telling him this before he passed away.
By retiring from being an extractor he had definitely went "idle". He loved his children dearly and all that time he was away from them and running away from Mal he could only think of getting back to them, to a normal life. But now he had all this free time.
He was sitting outside on their patio wondering how time passed so quickly. It wasn't like in a dream where you had so much more time than in the real world. He rubbed at his arms marveling at how it was slighter cooler out now. It was fall. His children weren't around to fill the void, the loneliness. He berated himself time and time again for not picking up a hobby or trying harder to get a part time job. His heart just wasn't in it. He wanted the PASIV device, long hours working in the warehouse in Paris, Arthur at his side to help him do the research for the next job, rushing off to meet clients in exotic locations, all of it. He rubbed at his face feeling guiltily. He was feeling that a lot too these days. Guilt of having done something awful to Fischer to fulfill his own desires and needs, wanting to jump back into the dangerous business of extraction when he was safe with his children and moving past Mal to find someone else.
He talked to Miles about it. Miles never seemed to care that Dom forgot what time it was in Paris when he rang-needing someone to vent to. He listened to him as he painfully spoke of his again guilty conscious and if it was a stupid idea to go back to extraction.
Dom never knew how Miles did it. He lost his wife and daughter, was still teaching at nearly 65 and still had time to listen to Dom's problems while seeming to be content. But they were close-sharing the same passions and Miles frequently telling him that he was the son he never had.
Miles wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea that Dom wanted back in at least at some point but understood it on some level as well, paralleling it to someone that had fought in a war. "It's addictive, it's a rush. It's like nothing anyone could ever imagine until they did it themselves and you wouldn't want them too because of the addictive qualities. It's really a double edged sword. You want to share the experience with someone but don't at the same time. When you enter the mind it is like a warzone-totally unpredictable and one is never the same as the next. It really puts you in a difficult position but whatever you decide I stand behind you. As far as finding someone else," Miles sighed heavily into the phone. "Dom, it's been years now. She's gone. It's still difficult for me too but at some point we need to reach a point with these things and say: 'I can't do anything else for them since they are passed away. Death is a part of life. I have to move on.' So move on Dom. You're still young. Find someone else to make you happy. You owe it to yourself and your children."
Dom had to fight back some pent up tears of relief. He appreciated his support and he had explained it beautifully. He WAS addicted, a war vet obsessed with getting back out on the field because the real world had become strange. He appreciated the reality for what it was but it wasn't for him. He had invaded too many minds to back out now. The only things rooting him here were of course his children and something else he couldn't admit to himself let alone anyone else. Maybe by doing extractions again he would snuff that idea out completely.
He knew his friends and old comrades were supportive of his decision to retire. He spoke to Arthur when he could spare a moment for his old friend. Arthur couldn't turn it off either and still went out in the field with Eames and another extractor. He would tell Dom stories and Dom had to bite down the jealousy he felt bubbling inside him when Arthur would relay the successful extractions-thinking smugly of how he would have done it better.
He felt in some ways he was going out of his mind insane. How does one reenter society to be a normal, middle class citizen with a 9-5 white collar job, driving a mini-van, living to get to the weekend and spending all your free time with your children?
Dom shook his head disgustedly. He couldn't. Bottom line. He was in the extraction business for nearly ten years. You can't just flip a switch.
It had been almost two years since the last job. He couldn't say he was miserable but some days he felt it was pretty close to that.
He had set up so many rules in his mind just like the rules of extraction/inception. He was to devote all his time and energy to his children, no relationships and no dangerous jobs.
He knew his children were kept happy but what was he doing to keep himself happy?
He didn't know. He watched sports and liked to read. And he also liked to dream.
Sometimes he daydreamed while reading with the sports on in the background just to change it up. Wow, some life he had.
He also liked to keep tabs on him but this was something he couldn't really admit to himself.
He read last week that he gained custody of his son and that since Fisher Marrow was no more he had built a new home in Hollywood presumably to hide from the world. Dom envied him in some ways.
He reached his breaking point one evening. He had barely left the house that week-it was raining cats and dogs and the children were being unruly. He felt he was going stir crazy. He had half thoughts of jumping in his car and driving somewhere far, far away just like the riddle Mal and him liked to recite. He imagined catching a flight to London, Paris or New York to stay with one of his friends if they'd have him.
He missed his helper-someone to help him watch over the children-to give him a break every once in a while. And boy did Dom need a break.
Instead of running away he instead planted the children in front of the television with a movie and escaped to the shower where he had his wild sex daydreams about him and his fantastic fantasy life-them escaping together. He didn't know if the inception job was a cruel joke or a sweet gift he brought upon himself but as he came in the shower moaning he didn't really care.
He wasn't crying as much and the preschool teachers said that he was using English more and more.
Robert felt pleased that his son was adjusting to his new life as slowly as it was going.
He still cried out for his mother or nannies-sometimes using Russian confusing Robert who had to run to the Russian word dictionaries he had literally scattered all over their new house and asking Julian to please use English. At least he wasn't crying all the time now like he did when he first arrived in the States and Robert had left his hotel to collect him from child services. Natalia was long gone after the final hearing-not even sticking around to say goodbye to her son. Robert felt even better about his decision to gain full custody after that.
Julian didn't remember him of course. He was only two when he went to Moscow to see him for the first time. He was four now and was startled to find out that he looked even more like him though his eyes were darker and hair longer-jet black and slightly curly like his mother's. Robert changed Julian's last name to Fischer-he didn't want him tied to his mother any longer and he felt a certain surge of pride knowing that he had his last name and would until his death.
Since Natalia refused to return his calls Robert had to figure out on his own what Julian liked and what his regular routine schedule was. This was a long, difficult, uphill battle process. He bought many parenting books and researched Russia until he felt his mind would literally collapse. There were lots of sleepless nights, calling the little friends he had for advice since they had children, calling pediatricians, online research, many trips to the store and Julian's nonstop crying-lots and lots of crying. But through it all he still felt vindicated and satisfied. But not completely satisfied. He had let the research of Mr. Charles go by the wayside for the first couple months when he got Julian.
He tried gaining his trust with gifts just like his father had done with him but spoiling him was not going to make Julian love or trust him. He wanted a different kind of life for him than what he had growing up. For starters he would go to public school and not be home schooled like he was. He wanted him to build social relationships with kids his own age and he knew this was especially important for him coming from a completely different country.
It was tough for him at first and Robert contemplated pulling him out of preschool to go to someplace for more one on one attention first so he could get used to the English language more and become accustomed to the lifestyle. But the teachers encouraged him that he was getting better and more adjusted day by day and teasingly said that he was just being a first time parent-worrisome and over protective. Robert was immensely glad that they thought he was so-he definitely was not making the same mistakes as his father.
This worried him a lot and it was a constant internal battle of him thinking he was smothering him or not giving him enough attention. He resolved that he indeed was a first time and single parent-he was bound to make mistakes.
But he didn't want to be a single parent for the rest of his life and as Julian warmed up to him slowly over the months they were together and he would hug him or take his hand he realized he wanted another child.
Robert thought this was absurd. He wasn't even married! He tried to shut the idea out of his mind but he realized he wanted Julian to have siblings-another thing that Robert never had growing up. He would worry about adoption some other time though. He had a full time job of being a parent and researched Mr. Charles in his infrequent free time.
What he did find was interesting.
He invested a lot of money into private investigators and some not so legal tactics or by the books people to find the man that haunted his dreams and fantasies.
He only had one real solid piece of information or theory-that Mr. Charles was most likely on his flight coming back from Sydney and that he was at the airport with him that same day as well.
That and his physical description was really not a lot of information to give investigators and other illegal informants. They told him as much as well. They all thought that Mr. Charles was using an alias which Robert grimly suspected as well. He felt he was striking out more than gaining any real information.
But then the informants did research on the plane that Robert used. The results were more than just surprising. The competitor for his father's company who now had no competition at all-Mr. Saito had bought the plane. Robert couldn't believe it was just pure coincidence. His life had showed him lately that nothing was a coincidence anymore but he had trouble filling in the wholes of his theory.
They weren't able to come up with the flight manifest which could have been the key to finding out what his real name or full name was.
They had hit another brick wall and for a couple months he didn't hear a peep from the people he was paying to find him.
To say he felt frustrated would be an understatement.
But Julian made him very happy and after six months of living together he had finally started to settle down and accept him. He was starting to understand that Mommy was gone and not coming back and that he was here to stay.
He had taken Julian out for dinner-celebrating that he was doing very well in school now coming home when he received a call from a restricted number. Robert hesitated before answering. He was still getting a lot of publicity calls-requests for interviews and so forth and as a general rule he usually did not answer the phone unless he knew who was calling. But he had a feeling.
He answered it without giving himself more time to doubt it.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Fischer? I have some information for you."
Robert didn't recognize the voice. He knew the people's voices he hired pretty well by now since they had been working together for nearly a year.
Robert looked around nervously. His bodyguard who acted as a driver as well had his eyes trained to the road and Julian was content in his car seat staring out the window looking sleepy.
"Who is this?"
Robert's eyes flicked to Rick, his bodyguard but he wasn't paying him any mind.
"No names. Do you want the information or not?"
Robert didn't like his tone and his business schooling came bubbling up threatening to overtake him as he would barrage him with questions, using his former status symbol or dance enough around the issue until he told him but he suppressed it. He was a slave to finding Mr. Charles and deep down he knew he would go to no limits to find him.
Robert sighed deeply feeling defeated.
"All right."
"Tomorrow. Eight pm. The Midnight Tavern and come alone."
Before Robert could protest the caller hung up. Robert stared at his phone stupidly for a few seconds, blinking with disbelief.
He thought it was a bad joke and at first dismissed it as such-trying to laugh it off. "The Midnight Tavern"? It sounded like a strip club to Robert. The whole thing was absurd. But as the day rolled on he got a gnawing feeling in his gut he couldn't ignore and he realized he may be going completely bat shit crazy but he was going to do it. He was nervous however since he couldn't have Rick come along though he supposed he could have him wait in the car for him, cell phone at the ready if he didn't come back after an hour.
The thought placated him enough though he got no sleep that night-the thrilling idea of finally finding Mr. Charles kept him up. Robert didn't really mind.