The Origin of Love

by z0mbieShake

An ex-marine and a sex hustler, two broken souls, find each other one cold, dark night in New York. This is the origin of Eames and Arthur's forbidden romance. It was their dream to be together and their destiny to be torn apart. Crossover of Mysterious Skin, Warrior, and TDKR based in the Inception universe. Arthur x Eames, Formerly "A Fractured Dream"

4. fade to BlAckNEss

And this is where the fanfic actually derails and gets a lot darker. The idea of inserting Bane into this actually came far later when I started reading darker, horror-romance fiction so that's why there's a rather jarring change of mood. Pairing list at this point in chronological order: TommyxNeil, ArthurxOC, ArthurxEames, BanexEames, BanexNeil. This chapter is also my "Yusuf role-expansion" chapter. I felt bad that Yusuf had such little recognition in the movie despite being fairly important to the entire Inception plan. The next few parts were written specifically to give Yusuf the spotlight he deserves.

(As an aside, I once told me friend that Inception was a movie that really had no character development, only JUST enough to make the characters passably likable. My friend reasoned that it Nolan intentionally did this because this would make the characters easier for us to project ourselves upon them. Of all the characters, I wanted to project myself onto Eames, I'm pretty sure I actually projected myself onto Yusuf. Hence, Yusuf getting a bigger role)

Warnings: Sex scenes, psychological torture, and psychological rape. Also, Bane makes his apperance here but the resemblance to his Dark Knight Rises counterpart is strictly appearance and mannerisms only. Everything else about him is a completely non-canon, original persona.

---

There's a ghost in my mouth and it talks in my sleep
Wraps itself around my tongue as it softly speaks
Then it walks, then it walks with my legs
To fall, to fall, to fall, to fall, to fall

---

Something reawakened inside of Eames that day. He tried his best to ignore it, keeping up his poker face when he was at a job. However, when he slept or when he dreamed, this inkling never left him alone. It started as a feeling in the pit of his body. Occasionally, it was a mere twitch in his gut like a hunger pang. More often, it felt like hot lead had settled in his stomach and threatened to melt through Eames's bowels.

When he was the dreamer, the world began changing beyond his control. Some daytime landscapes inexplicably became night. The lights were dimmer, the fires were weaker. During intense missions in the dreamscape, Eames swore he heard something mechanical breathing behind him. He could hear footsteps, too heavy to be anyone he knew, following him closely but all he could see when he turned around was pitch black.

During a test run, Eames woke from his dreams and turned to his architect who sat upon her lawn chair clutching at her neck and gasping for air, "What happened?" He said, holding her shoulders gently as he spoke.

"This projection snapped my neck," She coughed, rubbing at her throat.

"What did it look like?"

"I couldn't see. It was too dark,"

Eames hoped this was a one-time occurrence. Unfortunately it happened again and again, until one day, Eames entered a room filled with the mark's projections all with their necks snapped, faces twisted in fear. He threw up immediately.

Another trend that began were safes, vaults, and other secure containers with their doors torn right off. The first time it happened, the extractor was completely in awe. There were clearly grip marks indented into the metal, signifying that someone human had torn the door right off. The information was shredded apart, tossed into the air like confetti.

The metal boxes that popped up everywhere in his dreams tipped him off right away of what was happening. Left in miscellaneous places all over the dream was the metal trick box Eames had sealed away the animalistic rage of Tommy Conlon. Usually, when Eames opened it, the trick box was empty. Sometimes it was filled with shredded paper stolen from the safes. Once, a large mirror shard was in it reflecting Eames's shocked face. If anyone else tried to open it, the case would explode and kill them instantly. These trick cases tended to appear more often when Eames was a dreamer. From the moment he noticed that, Eames avoided being the dreamer for any mission.

In the rare situation where Eames was forced to be the dreamer, he'd find the entire layout of the dream changed. Any attempt to make sense of the layout hadn't worked at all. This was a truly unsolvable maze that was concocted. During one run through an impossible maze, the extractor had actually found the vault they had been looking for. He came forward, opening the safe with the mark's birthday numbers. Eames stood by the door, gun in his hand. Just as he opened the safe, absolute darkness enveloped both of them. When the darkness lifted, the extractor lay on the ground writhing in pain from his broken back. The safe was torn open as usual with all the information shredded. Whatever this being was, it moved far faster than all of them combined.

Luckily for Eames, this entity inside him attacked sporadically enough to avoid him getting caught be higher ups again.

It was only in one of his later missions did Eames figure out the truth. He was not the dreamer, so the layout was entirely safe. The architect was killed early. She was found with her neck snapped by a balcony. The extractor was killed next, his body was hung from the top of a flag pole so they could see it. The point man kept calm and continued his mission with Eames in tow. Eames recognized the point man from a previous mission which had similar occurrences.

When two exited the school they had been searching and stepped into the brightly lit daytime, the point man drew a gun and pointed it at Eames, "I know you're doing this, you son of a bitch. And only in the dark, I've learned,"

Strong, bulky arms came out from behind the point man, gripping his head and snapping his neck before he could shoot. The point man's body fell, revealing the giant behind him. Eames stared in disbelief at the hulking man standing before him dressed in a military-grade armored vest and worn-looking army pants. His most startling feature was the mask upon his head. Thick black straps held the mask in place, revealing only his eyes. The mask itself was metal, ugly, and looked like two hands were tearing the front of it apart. The hulking beast came from nowhere, rising out of thin air to snap the point man's neck.

"Mr. Eames," The beast of a man said, approaching Eames casually while resting his thumbs under the sides of his vest near the collar, the mocking replication of a cultured man with his fingers in the lapels of his coat, "So we finally meet,"

Eames couldn't tear his eyes away. He looked straight into the man's face. That metal trick box twisted into a fearful mask. Those eyes, his eyes, looking back at him, "Who are you?"

"Forgotten about me already, have you?" The hulking man reached forward, resting one hand on Eames's shoulder territorially, "I was a blight in your life which you chose to seal away in the dark, left to fester and rot till the day I was free. I am the blackness in your heart you so shamefully try to hide. I am your bane of existence,"

The instant Eames awoke, he rushed out of the warehouse, abandoning his team despite the point man's cries of condemnation. It wouldn't be long till the point man sent a report on his behaviour to the higher ups, suspending him immediately from work. As soon as he could, Eames took a few days off to investigate. He took a plane back to Mombasa, looking for a private chemist and an available PASIV machine. Luckily for him, he still had Elizabeth's notes with him.

The entrance to Yusuf's clinic was hidden well between fruit vendors and drying laundry. Eames initially believed he had the wrong address till the oh-so-familiar smell of somnacin and other chemicals caught his nose. He pushed open the wooden door, a cat rushed out from between his legs.

"Hey!" Eames shouted to the cat, nearly tripping over it.

"Welcome," Yusuf said, sitting at his counter, "You must be Eames, right?"

"That's right," Eames took a seat on the counter by the side.

"Another set of sedatives then? I improved the compound you used long before, the one that lets you maintain several levels of dreaming all on your own," Yusuf said, dropping a vial of golden fluid onto the table, "Fresh off the lab,"

Eames headed towards the counter, lowering his voice to avoid anyone from listening, "Actually, I need something a bit more...scandalous,"

"Ah, heading into illegal dream work I see. I've got plenty of sources for you-"

"No, I need a PASIV device,"

"Oh." Yusuf paused, blinking several times, "Well, shit,"

Eames laughed, backing up from the counter, "I won't tell a soul. As long as you can hook me up with a PASIV,"

Yusuf chuckled, standing up from the counter and withdrawing keys from his pocket, "Blackmail will get you anywhere,"

Eames followed him into the backroom. His eyes caught a few stray tubes on the floor of the room hidden behind a thick curtain, "What's in there?" The smell of somnacin was pungent and overwhelming even through the thick curtain.

"Something you'd probably not want to see," Yusuf said, "Blackmail me all you want, I'm keeping you away for your own good," He unlocked a wooden cupboard under the desk. To Eames's surprise, the flimsy wooden cupboard was lined with thick sheets of metal on the inside, turning it into a disguised safe.

"Clever," Eames said, "They'd never suspect anything of importance hidden there,"

"And if they did, they're not getting in," Yusuf replied, handing him a PASIV device locked in a leather briefcase, "One of our older models but still good to go,"

"Much obliged," Eames said, taking the case and weighing it in his hands, "Pleasure doing business with you then, Yusuf,"

"The pleasure's all yours, Eames," Yusuf said, eyes narrowing but still smiling as he led Eames out.

With PASIV on hand and a few days to work, Eames lay back in his bed and inserted the IV. He planned a simple layout, a mere hotel room in broad daylight with an open sunroof. When he reawakened in the dream world, he was unpleasantly surprised by the pitch black sewer he found himself in.

"Goddamn," Eames said, looking around. Not a single factor he had previously planned existed in this dream. He should've expected this, just as it always happened when he was the dreamer.

"Indeed," The voice was dark, echoing with an exaggerated English accent as it spoke, "God has indeed damned you," The hulking man, Bane, stepped through the darkness this time shirtless showing off the massive bulk of muscles upon his body.

No matter how hard Eames focused, he could not erase this projection. In dreams where he was in absolute control, this being rejected his power. He wondered if Bane could tell how hard he was trying to banish the projection from existence. When Bane began to laugh, Eames knew the creature had figured it out.

"You think of me as some projection, don't you?" Bane laughed, approaching him, "Don't be silly, Mr. Eames. You know exactly what I am," He stood a mere inch away from Eames, looking down at the man with the same eyes, "I am you. The original you,"

"You're not real. You're just my anger, my temper, locked away,"

"Do not be mistaken," Bane said as Eames stared at him in disbelief, "You'd be surprised what an infinity spent in the absolute darkest corner of the subconscious will do to you. What it did to Tommy," He stepped around Eames, circling him, "You trapped me away, Mr. Eames, so this forgery could live on. And now that I've returned, I wish to claim back what is mine," He reached forward, grasping Eames's neck and slamming him into the sewer walls, "Give me back my life,"

Eames struggled in the air, legs dangling from the wall as Bane crushed him to the wall by his throat. He quickly lifted a fist, slamming it right into Bane's mask, popping one of the pipes off. Bane snarled in pain, dropping Eames as he backed away and fixed his mask. The smell was clearly chemical, almost medicinal.

Eames shouted back, "Tommy grew up, Tommy changed. He became me. You're nothing but raw emotion I locked away," He drew the gun at his belt, ready to shoot Bane in the head and end all this.

Eames wasn't sure when he was disarmed. All he knew was that his hands were empty and he was on the floor with blood dripping from his nose. A foot came down on his back, pinning him to the sewer floor threatening to snap his back, "What..."

"Surprised? Mr. Eames," Bane said, taking apart the gun and letting the pieces drop to the floor next to Eames's head, "I said I spent an eternity here in the subconscious. I know facets of the subconscious you will never even dream of in a single lifetime," He lifted his boot from his back, grabbing Eames and tossing him over against the railing beside a rushing stream of water, "This is merely the beginning. I will ruin you. And when Eames's existence is in flames, I will break you," He grabbed Eames's throat again, shaking him slightly as he spoke to emphasize his words, "Your body and your soul,"

Eames coughed, scratching into Bane's hands as they strangled him. Just before he was about to pass out, Bane released him and backed off. Eames watched him cautiously, fearful of what this rabid existence in his mind could do.

"Unless, of course, you'd like to bargain,"

"With a monster like you? Never," Eames hissed, "I'll erase you. I'll find away,"

"Trapping me in the dark only made it worse. At least back then, your temper wasn't vengeful," Bane said, eyes narrowing in almost a smile. He was trying to tell a joke; it made Eames feel sick, "I'm afraid you have no choice. Unless you want me to sabotage all your missions. Oh, and that was just the beginning. Next time, I'll make your team beg for death. I'll make your team cry and wail at my feet before I snap their necks one by one. And I'll make sure you watch all of it."

Eames shook in fear and indignation. His whole body was tense as he spoke, "Name your terms,"

"Simple enough, you are a forger, are you not?" Bane folded his arms behind his back, "Then for every night, forge me someone to play with," The way he said that statement made Eames shudder in terror, "Someone real, an acquaintance or closer and if I can't recognize them, so if you forge a false person, I will sabotage your next mission,"

"So you want me to treat the people I know as scapegoats?" Eames said in a deep hiss, "They are not your playthings,"

"Yes, they are not but you are, aren't you?"

Eames swallowed, backing away.

Bane let off a low chortle, "What shall it be? Their mental well-being or yours?" His hands were around Eames's neck in an instant, "I will give you till your next mission to decide. Think well and hard on it," He twisted his hands.

Eames woke in a cold sweat.

For those few days he had to himself, Eames spent his time trying to calm himself which, in that case, was gambling endlessly at whatever casino he could find. His mind was blocked. He could barely think with that omnipresent pressure of Bane sitting in the back of his head. He could barely think, no, he couldn't afford to think in case Bane could hear his thoughts.

Why was it that when you were trying not to think of someone, that ends up to be the only thing you can think of?

Arthur

Eames stood from the poker table and left the casino, cashing in his chips first. Never had he been so glad that he had chosen to distance himself from Arthur. The night air was dry and warm, far preferred to the rainy decade he had spent in London. If only he had resolved his issues earlier, if only he had reconciled with his father, his brother, if only he chose therapy as opposed to experimenting, if only, if only, all that control Eames thought he had was merely an illusion. He was right, when he spoke to Arthur, he can't run from his past. Eames certainly couldn't but he tried anyway and it failed in the absolute worse way it could. Forever, he was trapped in a game of roulette: Uncontrollable, random.

After throwing his fists at a brick wall for a few minutes, Eames returned to his apartment and withdrew the PASIV. He had one more night before he had to return and a job had already been lined up for him. Eames cursed himself for being a forger, for advertising himself as the world's greatest forger. The inflation to his ego was not worth the attention he so desperately needed to avoid at this moment. He plugged the IV into his arm, taking several deep breaths before finally gathering the gall to activate the machine.

He didn't bother with a floor plan. Bane had one made already. It was a pitch black forest. Eames found himself with his back to the metal fence. A flashlight was in his hands already, a courtesy from Bane. He contemplated staying with his back to the fence but he knew Bane didn't want that. Bane wanted to unnerve him, stalk him through the darkness. Eames swallowed another deep breath and walked deeper into the forest.

He had been walking for nearly thirty minutes without any sight of Bane. He passed several random landmarks: A truck, a bathroom, oil tankers. Everything made less and less sense to him. Why would Bane put him here?

A branch snapped behind him. Eames whipped around immediately, shooting his flashlight behind him. No one was there, obviously. As he continued down the path, he swore he heard deep mechanical breathing behind him. When he felt a hand press itself flat against his back, Eames ran as fast as he could. He stumbled over a tree root, collapsing against a large tree with twisted branches. He whipped the flashlight in circles, scanning everything around him. No one was there, he'd never miss a figure like Bane. He lifted himself off the tree, stepping around it to continue his path.

And ran straight into Bane's chest.

"Shit!" Eames screamed, backing away. He turned and ran, dropping the flashlight and too afraid to turn back to grab it.

In the pitch black darkness, Eames had no way of navigating. He kept his hands in front of him, using them as guides to avoid running into a tree. By the time he reached a clearing, his hands were scratched and bloody. Lungs burning from exhaustion, Eames collapsed against a solid tree, sliding to the ground slowly, and feeling a pair of boots at the very base. He didn't scream, Bane's left hand tightly secured his mouth while the other hooked underneath his armpit and dragged him up kicking and screaming.

"Had fun, Mr. Eames?" Bane asked with a chuckle, "Now, I hope you aren't here to try and negotiate. I've got plenty more to persuade you that resistance is futile in my world," He released Eames, shoving him into a tree. He turned on the flashlight, tossing it to the floor so both of them were illuminated.

Eames swallowed, staring straight into Bane. His fingers dug into the tree behind him futilely. Never had he ever felt so out of control and helpless, "Who do you want?" Eames asked, submitting to Bane's demand.

"You may decide whom you wish to make a scapegoat first,"

Eames shut his eyes tightly. It had to be someone he didn't particularly care for, someone who he had little emotional attachment if any at all. As a bonus, maybe someone he even disliked, someone who Eames wouldn't particularly mind turning into a scapegoat.

Bane let out a hearty laugh at the sight of Eames forging the slender man who had constantly treated him like a mere tool for the government. Bane applauded, a smile clear on his eyes, "Good choice. I would have done the same," Bane gripped one of Eames's arms tightly. The slender man's bony forearm fit perfectly in Bane's massive grip, "I'm going to enjoy this very much," Bane said before twisting violently, nearly snapping the forearm off right at the elbow. Eames screamed in pain before being silence by a powerful slap to the face.

It had gone on for hours. Bane was like an insatiable child, tearing and pulling at Eames till his limbs screamed and snapped. It took everything in Eames to keep up the forgery through the intense, growing pain. When Bane finally snapped his neck, Eames awoke, scratching at his no longer restricted neck. He fought back tears of absolute horror as he curled up on the side watching the PASIV as if it were a gate to hell waiting for him, watching him.

As Bane had promised, he left Eames's missions alone. As the dreamer, the layouts stayed his own and the metal trick boxes no longer spawned. No more neck-snapped projections appeared and his whole team was content with the progress. In the day, Eames was in control. In the night, in the darkness, Bane took over.

For two weeks, Eames kept Bane at bay with neutral faces he had remembered: Nash, the sandwich maker working beside Neil; Tess Conlon, Brendan's beautiful wife now rendered a mess by Bane. Wendy, whom he never felt much kinship with despite her effort; Frank, his brother's trainer whom Bane felt nostalgic when seeing his face. Mad Dog, this one made Bane laugh, ugly and frightfully. Bane's 'playtime' remained relatively similar, snapping his bones, beating him till he bled, just pain. Eames had wrongfully assumed that this would be the same for all of his tributes to this demon in his mind.

That horrid day, when he ran out of neutral faces, Eames forged Paddy Conlon, his father. The feeling of his skull being beaten into shards by the fists flying into his face was chalked up as the worst pain Eames had felt in his entire life. Brendan was the second face he forged. Bane's torture was still unbearably painful but he had given Eames time to recover halfway through the beating. He had never done that for the other forgeries. When he had the desperation to forge Manny, Bane snapped his neck and ended it quickly.

It was inevitable. Eames had forged all the neutral faces he'd known and all the faces he knew he'd never see again. He even dug up some very old memories of his first boot camp comrades and some obscure memories of that one soldier he had saved from the sinking tank. All that was left were those he knew now: the dream-professionals.

The first one he forged was Henri, his surrogate father. When Bane was finished with him, Eames awoke and punched the dry wall of his apartment. He'd never forgive himself for throwing his true father to the wolves. Elizabeth and Elaine followed after, each making him feel equally guilty. During one incredibly violent night, the instant Eames awoke from the nightmare, he turned to the side of the bed and threw up.

He couldn't keep doing this. His coworkers had begun noticing the tiredness and jumpiness Eames treated everything around him. He was a loose cannon startled by everything that took him by surprise. Even the darkness was beginning to scare him. The extractor watched Eames with extreme confusion as he accidentally shut off the lights to the warehouse while Eames was inside and the forger screamed like he had been shot.

Eames grew introverted, fearing contact with new people whom he would inadvertently add to death row, ready to be executed in his mind's guillotine. When he was too tired to avoid more intimate acquaintances, Eames forged himself into Adrian, staring straight at Bane as they stood in a tiny jail cell with a single candle lighting the room. His father made Bane crush his skull slowly and brutally. He couldn't imagine what Adrian, the man who stole Neil from him, would be subjected to.

Bane said, "No false forgeries, I thought I told you,"

Eames froze. He looked to his reflection in the shallow water basin on the floor. He was Adrian, straight down to his fancy blonde hair and gaudy suit. He looked to Bane again, studying his face. Bane wasn't lying, his eyes said. He doesn't recognize Adrian at all.

"You don't remember him?"

"I am not here to play games," He said, approaching Eames, "Mr. Eames, I recognize every human you recognize. You are aware of what I said about false forgeries," Eames swallowed, he'd sabotage his next mission. He remembered it clearly, "But, I will let you off this one time," Bane said, gripping Eames's neck tightly, "You're losing your mind. Aren't you? It's only reasonable that you'd make mistakes," Bane laughed loudly, kicking him hard in the stomach before wrestling him to the ground.

Bane had gave him a gift. He gave him a list of those he could protect. Through his beating, Eames distracted himself with the fact that there were blanks in Bane's memory which meant there were things he didn't know, people he didn't know, people Eames could protect. It had to be the people he had met after Eames sealed Bane away and before he was released. He had several years worth of people he could protect.

During an intense moment of his torture, Eames shut his eyes and counted off everyone who he could protect. Yusuf, Diane, Orlando, Dom...no, not Dom. Not Mal either. But most importantly...Arthur, he could protect Arthur from him. That single thought brought him solace and made him forget his pain for just a while. When he felt hands curled around his head, Eames felt peace. Snapping his neck which felt absolutely awful before now felt like a blessing. Eames awoke on the bed, usually screaming or sick, but this time, he felt at peace. Phantom pain still lingered in his limbs but the proven knowledge that Bane had blanks in his memory gave him enough peace to rest well.

During a slow preparation, Eames made himself a chart of knowledge he had of Bane. As he was born when Eames sealed away all the negativities that made him Tommy, this means his memory is completely blotted out from when he was sealed and when he was released. Bane hadn't recognized Adrian, which meant the final job he had with Adrian and Arthur must've been prior to his release. Similarly, Eames had been thinking plenty about Arthur and Bane had not questioned that once. Bane couldn't hear his thoughts or see what he was doing during Eames's waking hours even if he dwells in his subconscious.

Even so, with his newfound knowledge, he was still completely helpless.

That night, Eames found himself in an apartment complex still in construction. Eames figured Bane would chase him through it, baiting him with hope that he'd escape only to catch him at the last minute and beat him till he died. He forged himself into the Mal from ten years ago, calmly walking up the stairs till she reached the very top hallway. Perhaps if Eames was lucky, Bane would just hurl him off the building and wake him early.

Eames expected Bane to sneak up on him in the darkness, use his omnipotence in the dream world to catch Eames off guard, so Eames was in actual surprise when he saw Bane merely standing in the middle of the hallway leaning on the wall.

"Bane," Eames said, perfectly mimicking Mal's floral accent.

Bane looked to him, watching as Eames approached slowly, "Not afraid?"

"It's inevitable that I face you whether I'm afraid or not," Eames replied, "So why should I feel fear?"

Bane hummed in agreement, standing from the wall, "I have a proposition for you,"

"A proposition? Since when did you get random whims?"

"Since I realized that you are refusing to forge Neil for me,"

Eames swallowed, his forgery faltered for a second, flickering like a faulty projector, "I'm sure you understand exactly why I refuse to forge Neil for you," Eames folded his arms, crossing one leg in front of the other elegantly as Mal had, "Whatever deal you have, I refuse. I will never make Neil into your plaything,"

Bane's large hand came forward, grabbing Eames's chin firmly but not enough to hurt, "Trapped within layers of dark, heavy, suffocating subconscious, memories of Neil were the only source of joy I had. It was those memories of Neil that gave me hope. I would never harm Neil, not even a forgery of him," Bane released Eames, backing away with his hands folded behind his back, "My proposition, you shall only need to meet me once a week," Eames tried desperately to avoid perking up his head at the enticing new term, "I will not harm you physically but I will do as I desire to gain my pleasure," The way he spoke made Eames shiver. How odd that a man could switch between warm and inviting to cold and disturbing in seconds, "And in return, you must forge Neil and only Neil for me every time we meet,"

Eames could not pretend that Bane's deal had not been attractive. He hadn't been getting enough sleep thanks to Bane haunting his subconscious and keeping him awake with phantom pain and trauma. His performance was lacking and he had begun fearing dreams even when he knew Bane would not interrupt them. Could he reduce Neil to a plaything for the sake of his own sanity? No one would have to know, especially not Arthur.

It pained him to say it but he knew it was the only sane choice, "I accept," Eames said, slipping back into his own appearance.

Bane's eyes squinted upward, a genuine smile hidden behind his wretched mask. He reached a hand forward, brushing the stubble along Eames's chin, "Then do it," The stubble faded away, revealing the smooth skin of Neil. Bane didn't strike out at the forgery as he usually did when he caught up with Eames. Instead, he placed both his hands on Eames's shoulders, slowly stroking them as he moved his hands downward to caress his arms. When his hands fell upon his elbows, Bane shoved, pushing Eames through a door and directly onto Tommy's bed.

Eames whipped his head back and forth, studying the world around him. He was back in his old apartment, Tommy's old apartment. The bed he lay upon was cold, as if left alone for several hours in a poorly insulated apartment. What caught Eames's attention first was the bedstead, one drawer half open and dog tags hanging right at the edge. This wasn't just an imitation of Tommy's room.

This was the imitation of a memory.

Bane came upon Eames, flattening the forgery of Neil onto the bed, "Finally," He whispered through his mask, stroking Eames's cheek, "I can relive that moment in my life the way I truly desired it," Eames shuddered as Bane continued to stroke his cheek lovingly, "Calm down Mr. Eames, now is not the time for fear," He leaned in, pressed his cold, rigid mask into Eames's neck in a mock kiss.

Even as the hands continued to stroke his body intimately, Eames stayed calm taking deep breaths to slow his heartbeat. He tried to maintain his image of a blissful Neil with a doe-eyed expression but he could tell that the face he was making was akin to Neil raped and high from cocaine. When Bane's rough, calloused hands began sliding off his clothing, Eames screamed in his own voice.

"Mr. Eames, you're breaking our contract," Bane said, pulling away and grabbing Eames's chin.

"Right, right," Eames said, repeating it as his voice began sliding back into Neil's lazy drawl, "Right," He shut his eyes, breathing deeply and repeating a mantra in his head. I can do this. I can do this. He mumbled to himself. When he opened his eyes again, he was greeted by the image of Tommy Conlon smiling back at him, hands pushing Eames's shirt past his pectorals. Eames screamed again.

"I'll be gentle," Bane's forgery said in a sickly sweet voice uncharacteristic of Tommy. He leaned in, suckling on the soft flesh behind Eames's ear as he took Eames's left nipple into his hand and massaged it with his fingertips.

Eames moaned weakly, shivering as Bane continued to pleasure him gently as he would if he were actually Neil. Bane's other hand slid down, pulling off Eames's jeans. He stroked his hand down Eames's pubic hair, threading it through his fingers before finally grabbing his half-erect penis. Eames gasped out loud, bucking hard at the touch. The fingers toyed at the head, pinching the top in a way that Eames loved. He covered his face with his arms, too embarrassed as pleasure overwhelmed him.

"Neil," Tommy's voice murmured, reaching up to stroke the side of his face hidden by his arms, "I'll be careful. I promise," At those gentle words, Eames lowered his hands only briefly to look at Bane situated between his spread legs, gripping onto his hips gently as he used his other hand to prepare his own cock.

Relive that moment in my life the way I truly desired it. Eames groaned at the truth behind those words. This was exactly how he wanted to relive this memory. And now he was reliving it, except with a completely fucked up context.

His thought was cut short and the feeling of fingers prodding into him, stretching him. When Bane's erection pushed inside him, Eames thought he'd die from the shame alone. It wasn't the shame of being raped that killed him, rather, it was the shame of being forced to maintain Neil's persona.

That night when Eames had awakened, he screamed till his lungs nearly burst.

Eames thought his work would be easier now that he was no longer Bane's daily plaything. A single night of forcing to lay with Bane under the guise of Neil wrecked an entire month for him. The members of his team were beginning to worry whenever Eames would awaken from a dream simulation screaming and struggling against invisible bonds. At one point, he had actually screamed "Bane" out in absolute terror. Eames also found himself palming his totem more, checking to make sure Bane wouldn't suddenly pop out from the darkness.

As unbearable as his waking hours were, those weekly visits to Bane were far worse. The bastard began toying with him. Bane knew where all his hot spots were. He knew what he loved, what he hated, and he played with those hot spots till Eames was driven mad with ecstasy. Bane was always gentle when he thrust inside him, usually embracing Eames like a lover and kissing the sweet spot on his neck as he did so, disconcertingly marked by a butterfly tattoo he almost regret having. The only comfort Eames could take in was that Bane wasn't doing this for Eames's pleasure; he was doing this to see "Neil" in pleasure.

Eames ran out of somnacin frequently, no surprise as he had been using the PASIV device so frequently. Eames kept most of his jobs in Mombasa so he could stay close to Yusuf should he need his services. Yusuf supplied him generously and without question, even occasionally inviting him to lunch when Eames looked particularly exhausted. The chemist and the forger both found a kinship around gambling, poker to be specific. Even through his hellish experience, Eames found solace in his new friend who kept quiet about Eames's suspicious activities.

A year had passed with Bane haunting his subconscious. Eames didn't know how he survived it. Perhaps he hadn't survived it at all. Maybe he was already dead and Bane continued to torture him. Eames found himself with fewer jobs, being unable to leave Mombasa anymore. This gave him more time to cleanse his mind doing two things: Gambling and forging items. Hours he would spend mindlessly forging poker chips or driver's licenses or anything he had his eyes on. He needed to keep himself distracted or else his thoughts would return to Bane.

Eames also found himself hanging around Yusuf more, the two heading off to casinos during an off-night. However, as the weeks began to pass, Yusuf began prodding Eames with questions, asking about his deteriorating health. It pained Eames to avoid Yusuf, his only friend in Mombasa, but he had to if he wanted to keep Bane a secret.

Another night of Bane's lust passed, Eames awoke sobbing for the first time. Eames was always proud that he hadn't burst into tears due to Bane for an entire year. This night, however, overwhelmed him completely. In the beginning, Bane merely tried to replicate the single moment Neil and Tommy pleasured each other. As time went on, Bane began replicating other memories all inevitably ending with sex on some table or structure. Eames was somewhat disgusted, somewhat impressed with his past insatiability. Had he really wanted to have sex with Neil that badly?

This night was Christmas. This time, it was not a replication of a memory but a completely original construction. That night, long ago, Tommy invited Neil for Christmas dinner but Neil rejected, heading home for Kansas and leaving Tommy behind. That memory was still sore in Eames's heart; it must've felt like a flesh wound in Bane's.

The dinner was normal, eating cheap cuts of turkey and canned goods. Eames listened to Bane, still forging Tommy, talk about how he didn't have much money and how this was the best he could do. Eames played along, reacting like Neil: Flattered, cocky, but sincere. They split a bottle of wine, Bane told him he had splurged for the bottle but Eames knew better; he stole it from the trinket store owner and stored it away to save for Christmas. The day Neil left, Tommy broke out the bottle and drank till he nearly passed out.

The sex began spontaneously. Eames hadn't even finished his meal before Bane gripped his forearm and pulled him over for a rough kiss. He shuffled Eames forward, pressing him against the couch as he continued to kiss him passionately. Eames resigned his fate and shut his eyes, playing along the best he could.

The dream would have ended as usual, Eames would wake up startled but adapted. He'd then fight through his mania to achieve calmness for the remainder of the week. Instead, at the very peak of his orgasm, a tear fell upon Eames's face. He opened his eyes just a sliver and looked up at Bane, out of his forgery, who had wept a tear upon him.

"I love you Neil," He whispered as he pressed close to Eames's neck, "Don't leave me, please don't leave me," He came inside Eames, jerking Eames off as he did making the forger hit his orgasm hard. Bane merely stroked his hair gently, soothing him, "I need you with me. You're the only person I'll ever need in my life, Neil..." Bane pulled away, looking down at Eames as he continued to stroke his face soothingly.

Eames stared back into Bane's eyes, body basking in the afterglow. Eames could only see a reflection of himself as Bane continued his mantra. Don't leave me for Adrian. Please don't leave me behind as you did with Neil. I need you with me. You're the only person I'll ever need in my life, Arthur...

And then Eames woke up, crying just as Bane was.

His mind was completely elsewhere the day after. On his way to Yusuf, a car had almost struck him had it not been for the chemist charging out and tackling Eames out of the way. The chemist quickly helped Eames up, threw a tirade of obscenities to the driver, and walked Eames into his store.

"You look awful today, what happened?" Yusuf said, taking a seat by his desk.

Eames sat upon a stool, rubbing his eyes which were most likely still red from crying, "Had one awful night," He smirked to Yusuf, weaving up an amusing lie, "Ex-girlfriend came to see me. Had a bad time,"

"Eames, you certainly don't think I'd fall for that now," Yusuf replied, raising an eyebrow, "I've known you long enough to know that wouldn't be enough to knock you out. Look, I know it's not my place to ask but what have you been doing with that PASIV I lent you?" Yusuf folded his arms, staring down at Eames who sat with his head down, "You've been ordering enough somnacin to keep yourself under for at least once a week. Are you experimenting in your mind because that's a very dangerous move?"

"Dangerous?" Eames said. Oh, you have no idea. He couldn't tell Yusuf. The man couldn't fix his problem. He'd only tell him to stop dream working, stop giving him somnacin. Eames didn't want that. He already lost one of his true loves; he didn't want to lose another, "I've been practicing forgery. A special kind of forgery,"

Yusuf narrowed his eyes, "You're Thomas Eames. The best forger in the business, what exactly are you practicing?"

"Yusuf, just give me the somnacin I ordered,"

"I can't do that. This isn't safe for you," Yusuf said, standing up, "You look like a mess,"

"You're not my mother. You're just some chemist who sells me somnacin,"

"I'm also a chemist who has watched you deteriorate slowly since the day I first saw you,"

"Will you shut the hell up and give me my somnacin?" Eames growled, kicking off his chair and grabbing Yusuf's collar.

Yusuf panicked at first, struggling before calming down and looking at Eames's eyes. He said nothing, merely staring thoughtfully into Eames's eyes till the forger backed away. Eames leaned upon the side counter with on hand, his other hand stroking at his temples, "Yusuf, I'm sorry."

"What are you doing with the somnacin?" Yusuf asked again, quietly.

Eames shook his head slowly, "There's something in my head, something I put away long ago. I thought it would stay there forever but it came back worse than ever. There's nothing anyone can do about it," Eames looked to Yusuf pleadingly, "I need that somnacin to keep it down. Please,"

"Whatever it is. It's killing you. I hope you realise that," Despite his words, Yusuf relented reluctantly, "You have to find another way to deal with this,"

Yusuf's words stayed in his heart even when he went under for another night as Bane's pet. He sat upon Tommy's bed, out of forgery, waiting for Bane to enter the room.

"Tired, Mr. Eames?" Bane asked, leaning against the doorframe as he watched Eames.

"This is killing me," Eames said, "You realize that if I die, we'll both die, right?"

"I've never been alive. Why would I fear death?"

"I wish to bargain,"

"Denied,"

Bane grabbed his wrist, forcing Eames onto the bed, "I lived on mere memories of Neil for an eternity. Being able to hold him, even if it is merely a forgery, is a godsend," He grabbed Eames's chin firmly, "Forge Neil, now,"

"Three hours,"

Bane cocked his head curiously.

"I'll give you three hours in consciousness. No more somnacin, no more forgery," Eames said slowly, "In exchange, three hours of reality. Every week," Eames could see Bane considering the offer. The twitch by his left eye was a dead giveaway that Bane was pondering hard, "Three hours, to look for Neil,"

"Deal," Bane said, "You will give me three hours of any day of the week. By the time a week passes after my previous three hours, if you have not given me my next three hours, I will take the last three hours of the day by force,"

Eames nodded, "Deal,"

Eames woke up that night, refreshed and calm. Elizabeth, as skilled a point man as she was, couldn't even dig up information about Neil that linked him to Arthur. There was no way Bane would find Arthur through Neil. Bane may have been a god in the dream world but he was no stronger than Eames was in reality. He smiled to himself, happy that he had found a way to rescue his sanity.

All that mattered now was to make sure Bane didn't get into trouble in his three hours. He called up Yusuf the morning after, "Yusuf, I need to ask a big favour of you,"

"Is this about that thing you were talking about last week?"

"...yeah. I've found another way. I don't know if it's more dangerous or not but at least I'll be able to keep my peace of mind,"

"Fair enough, so what do you need of me?"

"For three hours of the week, I'll prompt you a day ahead of time. I need you to keep an eye on me and report if I do anything odd or dangerous as soon as those three hours are up."

"...what the hell?"

"Just, trust me on this,"

Yusuf didn't question, just like had usually had when Eames was serious. Eames really treasured that about Yusuf. The man might not ask questions but he was bright enough to figure things out on his own. Eames had expected Bane to rampage in his body, destroy his reputation just for fun. Instead, Yusuf reported that 'Eames' merely spent his three hours a week doing leisurely activities: walking in the park, going to a bar, watching a movie. Bane was using his time to experience this brand new world. It made him feel human; it disturbed Eames to no end. The arrangement went well. Eames slowly regained his composure and Bane was contently out of his life while Yusuf kept his tabs on him.

For a short while, Eames truly thought he could live like this, until the day Arthur called.

Eames had just woken up after his weekly three hours for Bane. According to a text message from Yusuf, Bane had merely went to a diner for breakfast, boxed at a community gym for an hour, and spent the remainder of his time feeding pigeons before returning to the apartment. The ordinariness of his three hours were so jarringly contrasting to his sadism in dreams.

His thought was interrupted by his cell phone ringing, Eames picked it up and answered, "Hello?"

"Eames, It's Arthur,"

Eames froze, searching his mind for all the words to say and thanking every single god in the world that he had just given Bane his three hours prior to the phone call, "Arthur, to whom do I owe this pleasure?"

"I need your help. It's urgent,"

"What is it, love?"

"I would prefer we communicate face to face. I can't let this conversation be traced by anyone,"

"Is this just another excuse to see me? If it matters, I missed you a great deal as well," There was a knock at the door. Oh hell no. Eames opened the door, looking directly at Arthur who had his phone to his ear.

"Hello, Eames," Arthur said, flatly, putting his phone away, "This is an urgent matter so I'll skip right to the task. I need your expertise with forgery,"

If it were any other situation, Eames would have agreed immediately but with Bane wandering his mental landscape, he couldn't risk putting Arthur into his domain given what Bane had done to a mere forgery of him, "Sorry, I've got a lot of missions planned already. You'll have to find another forger,"

"Not dream forgery," Arthur said, "Actual forgery. I need false IDs, false passports, anything that can be used to start a new identity," He held up his fingers in a mock peace sign, "Two sets: One for me, one for Cobb,"

Eames's eyebrows perked up questioningly, "Dom Cobb? Arthur, what happened?"

Arthur looked away at first, swallowing before turning back to Eames with guilt in his otherwise apathetic face, "Mal, she killed herself. And they think Cobb killed her,"

"Isn't there forensics proof for this?"

"Mal had herself declared sane by three psychiatrists. She set everything up to look like a domestic violence case"

"Bloody hell, can't the higher ups protect him? For Christ's sake, I was protected from deserting the military,"

"No, not in this case. Extractors are no longer a rare commodity. There's no value in protecting Cobb even if he is one of the best," Arthur sighed heavily, "He can't go to jail, not like this. So, I need you to forge him a new identity so he can get away. Can you do that?"

Eames nodded quickly, "No problem. Forgeries are my specialty. But what are you going to do for money? A fake identity can only get you so far,"

Arthur looked around quickly, as if checking for spies in the corners of the room, "We're heading into dream thievery," Eames stared at him, wide eyed, "Dream working is the only thing we've been trained in all these years. It's the only way we'll be able to make enough money to stay on the run from authorities,"

"Dom can't do it alone,"

"I know. That's why I said I'm going with him,"

"But you didn't do anything wrong,"

"I can't let him go through this alone. He's one of the closest friends I have,"

Eames sighed, smoothing back his hair in an exasperated manner, "Very well, I'll get those forgeries done. Give me at least three days," He scribbled down a note on his desk, "I've also got a friend who deals with illegal dream professions. I'll ask him to give me some leads,"

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver,"

"Funny, I thought I was a troublemaker,"

Arthur chuckled softly. Eames turned to look at the smile on his face, so fragile and soft, "What of Orlando or Adrian? Are they going to be joining you?"

Arthur paused for too long before he spoke, "No, they're staying behind. They'd rather stay out of trouble with the government,"

Eames chuckled, "Typical. Adrian's going to be heartbroken, being away from you for so long," He chuckled to himself, turning to Arthur, "Like a dog missing his-," He stopped at the sight of Arthur completely dejected, "Arthur..."

"We broke up," Arthur said, "He said he wouldn't date a criminal."

"Arthur, I'm sorry,"

"-Which is completely understandable," Arthur tacked on, brushing off his sadness and returning to a stoic expression, "I'll be on the run, tracked by the government and anyone out there who wants the secrets to dream working. It'll be too much work to maintain a relationship, especially to someone who has direct ties to the government,"

Eames nodded quickly, "Right, it is for the best,"

"Good, I'll see you again in three days then," Arthur said, heading to the door, "Thank you again, Eames,"

"My pleasure," Eames replied, watching as Arthur left the room. His eyes remained lingering at the door. Despite the sadness of knowing what had transpired with Cobb and what Arthur was willing to do, a part of him was truly happy that he had broken up with Adrian.

He sat by his desk, working on his forgeries with the materials he had on hand. With every little detail he worked on, Eames couldn't help but think of what Arthur had gone through. He imagined his reaction when Cobb told him the truth of what happened; Eames could see the indecision in his eyes before finally resigning to trusting his good friend. He could see Arthur asking Orlando secretly to assist him only to be rejected. What gave Eames a mix of feelings was imagining how Arthur broke the news to Adrian. Did Adrian burn with rage for dating a would-be criminal? Did he beg for Arthur to stay? Did Arthur beg for him to follow?

I guess it doesn't matter. Regardless of how it happened, Eames knew one thing: Arthur was alone. He had Dom Cobb by his side, but that was it, and judging from what Cobb had gone through, he certainly wasn't going to be a shoulder for Arthur to lean on for a very long time.

Eames had worked into the night, pressing a hand to his hair trying to push back stray strands that had fallen through the dried gel. He placed two forged passports aside before shutting off the light, going to sleep early so he could start on the next articles of citizenship later. He leaned back in his chair, huffing deeply as he rubbed his eyes.

"Arthur," He whispered into the air. He tried so hard to keep him away for his sake but even so, Arthur was inevitably destined to be entwined with his life. Eames picked up one passport, Arthur's new passport, and flipped through it lazily. With this final request, Arthur would disappear from Eames's life again. With this thought, Eames turned the light back on, booted up his laptop, and scrapped together enough material for a third forgery.

For the entire day since Arthur re-entered his life, Eames had not once thought about Bane.

"You look tired," Arthur greeted as Eames let him into the apartment. Eames had finished the batch of forgeries late into the night of the third day. He looked absolutely disheveled and tired.

"Forgery is time-consuming work. I should charge money for this,"

"Of course you would," Arthur said in a matter-of-fact tone before withdrawing a cheque from his wallet, "Here, your payment for the forgeries,"

Eames stared at the cheque for a long while. He had meant to do this out of goodwill, nothing more. He batted Arthur's hand aside, "Keep it, I don't need payment for this,"

"No, I insist. Forgery is a service,"

"Forgery is a leisurely activity, in my case," Eames pushed the cheque back, "Forget it, Arthur, consider these a birthday gift. If that will make you feel better," He picked up the two sets, handing them to Arthur, "Here you are, one for yourself and Dom,"

Arthur took them, hesitantly, "Thank you again, Eames," His eyes fell upon the desk, noticing the third set situated at the edge of the table, "Whose is that? Are those master copies?"

Eames laughed loudly, picking up the passport, "Oh please, I'm a master at forgery. You really think I need master copies?" Arthur rolled his eyes at the condescension, "This is my set," He flipped to the identification in the passport, showing a picture of him with brand new information.

"What, why?" Arthur said, honestly surprised.

"I'm leaving the government too. I've always wanted to and now I have the perfect excuse," Eames said, tossing the passport back onto the table, "Now you have a forger on hand. And I have a chemist friend who's more than willing to help us out as well,"

Arthur shook his head, grabbing Eames's wrist firmly, "You can't do this. You don't have to. Forgers are still a commodity to them. If you leave, they'll definitely send their best men to track you down,"

Eames lifted his hand, grabbing Arthur's wrist gently and prying it softly off his wrist, "And I shall lead them on a merry chase," The smile never left his lips. It was almost reflexive when Eames leaned in while Arthur moved forward and the two pressed their lips together with equal strength, neither forcing the other to comply. When Eames pulled away, he still held Arthur's hand in his grip, "I'll be there for you, I promise,"

"Why did you leave then?" Arthur asked in a light voice, "Back at the job with Cobb, Adrian, and Mal,"

Eames shrugged lazily. The answer was obvious; Arthur knew, Eames knew, but Arthur wanted to deny it, "You were trying to let go of Neil. You'd never be able to do that as long as Tommy was there. I respected your promise and stayed away so you could honour it," He lifted Arthur's hand, kissing the back of it as he massaged his wrist softly, "But now, what's most important to me is that you are not alone in this," He smirked playfully, leaning into Arthur, "Why is it that I'm always saving your arse from everything? It'd be nice if you did that for a change,"

"Shut up Eames," Arthur said with a chuckle before kissing him again.

The two spent the remainder of the night together. They had inevitably ended up on the bed, tangled in each other's arms and kissing each other passionately. By the time they had finished, both were absolutely breathless and undone by the other. The two lay side-by-side curled around each other, blanket cocooning both of them together.

"If I wasn't so tired, I'd definitely take you till the sun came up,"

"Maybe next time,"

The two paused, trying to sleep but unable to keep their eyes closed.

"Eames?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you wearing cologne?"

"Ah, yes. Some fancy French brand. I received it from a fellow extractor during Christmas. I was told it had the ability to seduce anyone who caught a whiff of it. Did it work?"

"No, I don't like it. Don't wear cologne."

"You prefer my natural scent of undiluted masculinity?"

"W-What? Idiot," Arthur broke out into a hysterical laugh and continued to chortle till he finally fell asleep in Eames's arms.

Eames shut his eyes, smiling through his rest with his true love nestled in his arms. He knew it'd be a difficult game to dodge the government after he deserts it but he also knew it'd be worth it for Arthur's sake. He brought his lips down to kiss Arthur's temple, smiling, blissful...

Before an image of Bane appeared in his mind.

Eames froze, staring down at Arthur, the object of Bane's obsession. His blissful sleep suddenly became awkward and terrifying.

The next morning, Arthur left early to regroup with Cobb in Paris. Eames said his goodbyes, kissed him on the back of his hand, and went to Yusuf immediately to arrange the dream thievery clients. His fear of Bane and love of Arthur battled constantly. In the end, the fear won out and Eames kept his distance from Arthur, helping him out from afar with new leads, recommended coworkers, and clients mostly through Yusuf.

A new chapter of his life began: Eames the forger, now a fugitive from the law forever loyal to his true love Arthur. The three hours given to Bane became trivial as his life became more and more hectic. On the contrary, Bane began to come in handy. Dream thievery had no standards. The job could be impossible and no one would be able to tell. Whenever Eames was caught in a bind, after the three hours of Bane's time, Eames would awaken with his bind completely undone. Bane was a master of the subconscious, no doubt, and he was certainly enjoying himself with the unconventionality of dream crime and disregard for the well-being of your partners. And of course, Bane effortlessly fighting off and killing hit men from disgruntled clients was a bonus.

During an off day, Eames spent the afternoon in Yusuf's lab, playing with his totem in the corner while Yusuf worked.

"How's Arthur been doing?" Eames asked.

Yusuf set aside the chemicals he was carefully measuring, "Okay. I guess. He said his last job was a bust. I thought you'd know that already,"

"I tend to avoid direct contact with Arthur. The government's all over me, I don't want to accidentally drag Arthur and Dom in too,"

Yusuf shot Eames a questioning look, "But, Arthur called you yesterday. You talked for almost three hours," He returned to his chemicals, mixing them with careful precision.

"No he didn't, I tend to avoid all of his calls," Eames couldn't recall any time he had spoken to Arthur directly. It was always through some liaison they spoke. Perhaps he was drunk, accidentally taking a call from Arthur and managing to keep up a conversation for three hours-

Oh shit.

"Yusuf," Eames said suddenly, "I need to go under, right now,"

Yusuf immediately set up a PASIV device for him in the backroom. Bane's existence had become so commonplace, both men had forgotten all about the three hour arrangement they had. Eames's new work generally brought him overseas so having Yusuf babysit for three hours was no longer an option; he could only assume Bane would not get into trouble.

"Ready Yusuf?" Eames said, fixing the IV onto his arm.

"Got it, sweet dreams," He said activating the device.

The night air was stifling and cold on the roof of an old apartment complex in the middle of the city. Sounds of cars and life were all around him but Eames saw no people on the streets just cars with windows shrouded in darkness. He rubbed at his shoulders, approaching the edge to check if there was anyone by the building. No one. He was alone, as usual.

"Bane!" Eames shouted, circling the perimeter of the roof, "Come out. We need to talk,"

Heavy footsteps behind him alert Eames of Bane's presence. He turned, watching as Bane came up from the stairs leading to the roof with his hands hooked behind the lapels of his fur-lined coat.

"And here I thought our arrangement was becoming beneficial to either of us," Bane said, "I get my three hours of freedom,"

"And I get your superior assistance in dream crime, I get it,"

"Ah, don't forget the pursuers. Had it been you dealing with them, we'd have been captured long ago," Bane chuckled behind his mask, approaching Eames slowly, "So what is the problem?"

Eames bit down on his lip, building up the courage to speak with him, "You know exactly what the problem is,"

The squint in Bane's eyes was terrifying. Eames hated it when he smiles, "I believe he was called 'Arthur', correct? Who is he to you?"

Eames swallowed deeply. Bane hadn't figured out that Arthur was Neil or else he'd never be so calm. Eames expected earth-shattering hatred and rage for hiding Neil from him in reality, "He's a point man. A comrade of mine who's also in dream crime,"

"That's not what I heard," Bane said, "He said he missed you. He said you were avoiding him and refused to stay in contact despite his weekly attempts to call you,"

"He's a friend. I didn't want him to know about you."

"A friend? Mr. Eames, do you think me a fool?" Bane boomed, resting one hand on Eames's shoulder, "For almost half an hour, he spent the time apologizing for anything he might've done to make you angry. And then, when I assured him that he hadn't done something wrong, he spent the rest of the hour wondering if I was in danger. That, Mr. Eames, isn't just 'a friend'."

Eames took a deep breath before brushing off Bane's hand, "I love him. Is that what you want to hear? I quit working for the government so I could protect him. It's because of you that I have to keep my distance. Bastard,"

"Ah, I figured so," Bane replied, stepping back and pacing lazily, "He argues like a lover would, desperate and sorrowful,"

"What," Eames hissed under his breath, "What the hell did you say to him?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself? If he's still willing to talk to you, that is,"

Eames threw a punch at Bane, hitting him in the cheek as hard as he could. Bane barely flinched, "You bastard!"

"He was a strong man! I commend you for finding such," Bane said, completely ignorant of the punch Eames threw, "He denied my words till the very end. What broke him was when I told him I never loved him; I said he was a nice plaything, a nice pet. Since the beginning, I said that I only took pity on him since he looked like such a miserable little creature. I said he was nothing but a sweet, pitiful whore for me to play with," Bane laughed loudly, Eames cringed knowing that those words must've awakened a shameful memory of Neil's, "And then he stopped. He hung up,"

Eames was dumbstruck. He shook his head, backing away, leaning against the railing to catch his breath, "Why? Why would you do that?" He huffed out, "Arthur was none of your business!"

"Arthur is completely my business. After all, I am you,"

"You're not me!" Eames growled.

Bane reached forward, grabbing Eames's neck and shoving him almost over the railing, "Mr. Eames, if I cannot have the man I love, then you can't either!" With that, Bane shoved him forward, pushing him over the railing.

Eames woke from the dream, startling Yusuf who had been checking the timer on the machine, "What happened?" Their eyes locked momentarily before Eames closed his eyes in a squint and laughed humourlessly. Had it been another situation, Eames would have been laughing genuinely. How ironic, that Bane who loves Neil ended up breaking Arthur's heart. How ironic that Eames's effort to protect Neil's dignity ended up tearing apart Arthur's, "Eames, you're freaking me out,"

Eames covered his eyes and shuddered, screaming in anguish, ending his unnerving laughter. Yusuf unhooked him from the device, quickly grabbing a glass of water to help him calm down. After a moment of screaming, Eames settled down in the chair and took a quick sip of water.

"I didn't think you were still going through your 'episodes'," Yusuf said, "If I had known, I would have stopped you,"

"It isn't your fault. I should have expected something like this to occur," Eames sighed heavily, putting his glass aside, "Yusuf, do you have a phone?"

Eames didn't bother using his phone. Knowing Arthur, he would ignore him when he called. He dialed Arthur's number quickly. He used a rigged phone number which ran through Russia before reaching him to avoid traces. Eames was glad to know Arthur had some tech-savvy comrades on his side.

"Hello?" Arthur answered the phone.

"Arthur, it's me,"

Silence came. That wasn't a good sign.

"Arthur, about yesterday, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean any of it,"

"You sounded fairly sober."

"It was a bad week. I had been experimenting with new drugs. There were after effects,"

"Drugs don't put thoughts into your head. They make you more open to voice them."

"Arthur, darling, please let me explain,"

"Don't 'darling' me. I get it. You're sore about Adrian, Cobb, or anyone else you think I'm sleeping around with,"

"No, no, I'm not. Really,"

"That's fine by me. You can sleep with whoever you want. I won't penalize you for it,"

"Arthur, listen to me,"

"I'm done listening to you. I spent hours on the phone with you, trying to reconcile, and all you did was spurn me. I can't believe..."

"Arthur!"

"...that deep down..."

"Please, that's not-"

"...you still think of me as a whore,"

"-true, I love you,"

Arthur hung up before Eames could finish his sentence. He pushed the phone into Yusuf's hands, slumping in his chair with his head in his hands. Yusuf sat beside him, patting his back as Eames stewed in his own anguish.

"Eames? He's in Mombasa, that's Cobol's backyard,"

"Necessary risk,"

"There's plenty of good thieves,"

"We don't just need a thief. We need a forger,"

Eames was honestly caught off guard at the sight of Dominic Cobb tracking him down in Mombasa. In the months that passed, Arthur cut off all communication with Eames but despite this, Eames made sure Yusuf kept an eye on him to make sure he was safe. Eames had no idea Arthur also had an eye on him. He assumed Arthur would've wanted to sever all ties after Bane's little show.

"Inception, now before you bother telling me it's impossible-"

"No, it's perfectly possible. It's just bloody difficult," Eames said. He had firsthand knowledge about inception. Back then, he thought he had merely repressed Tommy. Only with more work in the versatile dream crime field did Eames learn of his own self-inception. He planted an idea deep inside himself. The only problem was that the idea took root and grew till it had a mind of its own.

"Arthur keeps telling me it can't be done,"

Eames snorted, a small, sad smile on his lips, "Arthur," He muttered. Cobb must've known of the rocky relationship between him and Arthur. Eames played along, not wanting to turn Cobb against Arthur, "You still working with that stick in the mud?"

Cobb shrugged, sipping his beer, "He's good at what he does,"

The best point man in the industry, "Oh, he's the best." Eames chuckled at the ancient title awarded to him back in the day, "But he has no imagination. To perform inception, you need imagination," Combining symbolic extraction and memory repression with two levels of dreaming was certainly not an idea cooked up from the unimaginative.

"Let me ask you something, have you done it before?"

Yes and no, Eames wanted to reply. He performed self-inception with catastrophic results but overall, it was a successful job. On the other hand, he performed inception on an actual job and it had failed miserably. It was obvious which story he'd tell to Cobb and which he'd keep locked inside himself.

The conversation with Cobb ended with a visit to Yusuf. Cobb would meet the man who had been looking out for him all this time. For the first time, when introducing Cobb to his most powerful sedative, Yusuf revealed what he had been hiding all those years. He pulled the curtain back, revealing a room filled with people under heavy sedation, using the PASIV device to dream since it was the only way they could.

Cobb and Saito left first to rendezvous at a safe location. Eames stayed behind, watching Yusuf replace the curtain after leaving the room, "Startling imagery,"

"It's how I make a living," Yusuf replied, "Now you see why I never want to show people what's behind the curtain,"

"Fair enough," Eames chuckled, "I respect a man with the gall to stomach a sedation 'camp' like that. Anyway, let's grab lunch before we head up to Saito and Cobb,"

"You can still eat after seeing that?"

His reunion with Arthur was unpleasant at best. The point man had spent most of his time with their new architect Ariadne, a college student and a truly gifted architect. Watching the two share jokes and caress each other playfully made Eames seethe with anger towards Bane. If that bastard hadn't interrupted, he wouldn't have had to stay away from Arthur all this time.

Whenever Arthur turned his way, Eames would give a shy little wave. Arthur promptly ignored him and stuck close to Ariadne, inviting her to another dream simulation so she can practice. All of their interactions, during briefings or information exchange, were professional at best and snippy at worse. Anytime Eames tried to delve into conversation, either about his life outside work or even Ariadne, Arthur promptly shut down the conversation and continued his work.

"Does Eames and Arthur have some history?" Ariadne asked Cobb as he passed by.

"Oh, you have no idea," Cobb replied with a small smile, "They go way back. Way, way back. Arthur told me all about it,"

A warm chuckle from Eames caught their attention, "You want to know? It's quite an interesting story," He touched Ariadne's shoulder gently. The young architect might've been suspicious of Eames due to Arthur's influence but after knowing him for a few days, she was quite open to the forger.

Arthur appeared as if out of thin air and slapped his hand off Ariadne's shoulder. He took her hand and pulled her away quickly, leaving everyone dumbfounded on what had just happened. Cobb looked to Eames, both shrugging when searching the other for answers.

On the final night before the mission, Eames stayed behind searching for Arthur so he could finally speak to him without work getting in the way. He sat by the main desk, swinging his head side to side searching for Arthur.

"Eames, what are you still doing here? We're way past working hours." Yusuf asked, walking over to him with a clipboard in hand.

"I was waiting for Arthur,"

"He left early with Saito to gather information,"

"Ugh," Eames groaned, "I guess I'll be going then,"

"Eames, you should tell Arthur the truth," Eames shot Yusuf a quick glare. The chemist shrugged in reply, "What is the worst that could happen?"

"I don't know. He'll think I'm a freak? He'll get hurt? I don't want him to know my subconscious gets off from snapping people's necks, raping forgeries of Neil, and cold-blooded torture!"

"Neil, you mean Arthur?" Ariadne said. Both men turned to her, startled.

Eames growled in his mind, he told her. Neil was meant to be his secret alone. Arthur hadn't even told Adrian of Neil yet Ariadne knew. Envy bloomed inside him as well as unjustified rage towards the young architect, "You are certainly chummy with Arthur, aren't you?"

"He's my mentor and my friend,"

"Oh, just a friend, I'm sure. And what of Dom? I don't see you joking around with him. I'm sure he's been just as helpful to you as Arthur,"

"Cobb, helpful?" Ariadne lifted one eyebrow, giving him a long, snarky stare before the three broke into a short chuckle.

"Okay, bad example," Eames replied, smoothing back his hair.

"Anyway, what Eames is trying to say," Yusuf interrupted, playing the peacekeeper between them, "He's had some misunderstandings with Arthur in the past. It's a complicated story," Eames nodded in agreement, "And that stuff you heard before..."

"Don't tell Arthur, will you?" Eames said, "He doesn't know and I do not wish for him to ever know."

The young architect gave him a quick nod, "I understand. And Eames?," Eames looked to her puzzlingly, "Arthur and I are just friends, really. He already told me that he's not interested in a relationship right now. He only told me about Neil when I found this dog tag hidden in his drawer. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow then, I guess?" With that, Ariadne left the two in the warehouse.

Eames took a huge huff of air, lucky that it was Ariadne who overheard and not Arthur, "Shit, that was close,"

"If you just told Arthur,"

"What if he's disturbed by it?"

"What if he isn't?"

"Or worse, what if he forces himself to stick with me despite getting tormented by Bane?"

"Don't you think Arthur could be able to handle that?"

"Yusuf,"

"I'm just saying,"

Eames wasn't sure how he had taken on an entire fortress of projections. Perhaps Bane's skill was bleeding through to him thanks to their reality sharing. How frightening, Eames thought. He wanted to distance himself from Bane as far as he could.

The inception job was successful. Eames was the only one who knew. He was the only one there, sitting beside Fischer as he announced to the world that he wasn't going to follow in his father's footsteps. Eames dropped the forgery of Browning. It was no longer necessary now that the idea had been planted firmly in Fischer's mind. There was a happiness in Fischer's eyes now that he was no longer burdened with his father's weight. When Eames awoke on the plane, he could still see that enlightenment in Fischer. Job well done. He resisted saying to Cobb as the man walked passed him warily at the luggage pickup.

With Saito's help, this was the first time a team hadn't needed to disperse due to enemy pursuers. Ariadne was the first one who had to leave, heading to a colleague of Miles who would be teaching her more about dream working. She gave Arthur a quick hug and a peck on the cheek before leaving to the bus. Eames looked upon Arthur as he received the kiss. He had forgotten how Arthur looked when he smiled. Yusuf patted his shoulder; he was second to leave and said his goodbye to Eames before heading back on a plane to Mombasa. Arthur decided to stay for Cobb's sake, watching out for him in case Saito hadn't cleared up all of his record. Eames remained solely because he had yet to give three hours to Bane due to the heavy workload and he'd rather have Bane happily satisfying himself in a city as opposed to a closed up, boring airplane trip.

He found himself a cheap hotel, distracting himself with TV until he could take it no longer. He eventually wound up staring at the clock, watching the minutes tick away. Always, if Eames had neglected to give him his three hours in a week since his last release, Bane would force his way through strictly at 9:00 pm. He watched the clock, 8:15, 45 minutes to himself before Bane could have his playtime.

There was a knock at the door. Eames groaned as he stood from the bed, stretching as he opened the door staring face to face with Arthur, "Arthur!" He shouted, backing away, "What are you doing here?" He cleared his throat, looking back at the clock to make sure Bane had yet to appear, "Anyway, I'm busy. Come back tomorrow," He made to close the door, only to be stopped by Arthur's suitcase wedged between the door and doorframe.

"Eames, we need to talk. Now,"

"No, it can wait. I'm sure," Eames replied, shutting the door tightly and locking it.

To no one's surprise, Arthur picked the lock in seconds and opened the door, stepping in and shutting it behind him, "Arthur. Really, I can't talk right now. Whatever you're angry about, I'm sorry, but can we talk about it tomorrow?" He was silenced by a open-hand slap on the face. His hand reflexively came up and touched his swelling cheek, "Arthur, what the hell!"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"About...about him,"

"Him? Him who?" Eames asked, before realizing a split second later, "Ariadne told you, didn't she?"

"No, Yusuf did. He pulled me over before he went on his plane and told me the truth that you had been hiding this monster inside your mind for years. He told me that in order to keep your sanity, you pledged to give him three hours a week of reality." Arthur explained, "How long, Eames, how long has he been haunting you?" Eames was quiet; this was his worst nightmare, having Arthur know the demon residing in his body, "Tell me,"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Now if you could just kindly leave," He shoved at Arthur's shoulder, only for his wrist to be grabbed and his arm twisted up behind his back, "Ouch, damn it Arthur, what the hell are you doing?"

Arthur shoved forward, pressing Eames face down onto the bed still with his arm twisted behind him, "Was it back when we had that mission with Adrian, Cobb, and Mal?" When Eames didn't talk, Arthur twisted his arm harder.

Eames hissed in pain, pulling his head off the mattress, "Yes! That's when Bane started to appear,"

"Bane?"

"Yeah, I named him. What a great name, right?"

Arthur released Eames's arm, flipping him onto his back and straddling him with his knees, "He could've driven you insane. Hell, he could've have driven you to suicide. Why didn't you tell me?"

"There's nothing you could have done. I've tried everything. As long as I live, he'll live. The best I can do is placate the beast and hope no one else will get hurt because of him," Eames said, staring up at Arthur.

"That's why you never stayed in touch with me, always staying in Mombasa,"

"Yusuf was the only one I told. I couldn't risk Bane freeing himself while you were there. He made me keep up forgeries while he tortured me to death. I don't want to think about what he would've done to you." He didn't mention Bane's second 'hobby' involving Neil. No doubt that would be unpleasant for both of them.

Arthur nodded slowly, "So the phone call that time was..."

"Really bad timing, yes,"

"Why didn't you tell me about Bane?"

"What if you said you wanted to come to Mombasa to help me? What if you stayed and got hurt?"

"Oh Eames," Arthur murmured, moving off of Eames and onto the bed, "I thought you hated me all this time. That time, that call, you said some terrible things,"

Eames shook his head, still laying on the bed staring up at the ceiling, "No, none of that was from me. I'd never hate you," He reached out, taking Arthur's hand gently.

"I can help you. We'll find a way to fix this,"

"I've tried. I've really tried," Eames pulled Arthur down on top of him, crossing his arms over his shoulder blades and hugging tightly, "There's nothing anyone can do," He held him tighter and tighter, burying his face into his neck, "Arthur, you have to stay away from me. As long as you stay out of reach, Bane can't hurt you,"

"Idiot," Arthur muttered, releasing Eames to stare down at him, "You're not going to suffer through his alone. I won't let you,"

"You don't understand. He's obsessed with you. He'll hurt you. I'll hurt you,"

"I don't care! What's most important to me is that you are not alone in this," He leaned in close, using one hand to support his weight and the other one to hold Eames's chin, "Eames, Thomas Eames, I love you,"

The seriousness and stoicism Arthur tried to fit over his visage of worry and sadness made Eames happy. Even now, Arthur tried hard to be apathetic and solemn despite the sorrow clear on his face. Eames gave a sad, little laugh before grabbing onto Arthur and rolling him onto his back on the bed.

"What about Ariadne? You two were getting along quite well. And she can offer you a danger-free romance,"

"She's a friend, a close friend," He reached up, stroking Eames's stubble gently, "Danger has never been much of a deterrent for me,"

Eames smiled as he leaned in, whispering into Arthur's ear, "I love you too, Arthur Riordan," He pressed his lips hard against Arthur's. They embraced as they kissed, rolling around on the bed like high school lovers laying together for the first time.

Arthur easily stripped away Eames's clothing, a simple salmon-coloured polo shirt. He already had Eames's fly half down while Eames was still meticulously removing the buttons from Arthur's waistcoat, then undoing his fancy tie slowly, before returning to button removal on his dress shirt.

"God, why are there so many buttons?" Eames said with a short chortle, "Consider zippers next time. Do I get extra payment for doing all the hard work?" Arthur responded by leaning in, nipping and suckling at the butterfly tattoo on his neck. Eames hummed in pleasure, "Oh, much appreciated darling,"

Arthur's fingertips were soft, so soft, as they glided over his warm, smooth chest. He moaned softly as his tongue glided over Eames's neck tattoo and over to his ear. Eames heard Arthur chuckle when he shivered at the slick feeling of his tongue on his flesh, "No cologne this time?"

"You said you didn't like it," Eames replied, finally stripping off the dress shirt from Arthur, "Please tell me your trousers only have a single button," Arthur laughed against his neck before moving back and pressing their lips together passionately. Eames lifted both hands, holding Arthur's face to deepen the kiss and then-

He woke, laying in the dark hotel room upon the bed. He felt sorrow tug at his heart, had it all been a dream? He would have screamed again had he not felt the tug on his left arm. It was Arthur, laying beside him completely naked, gently snuggling his arm. The blissful expression on his face and the stains upon the blanket clearly revealed what had transpired between them tonight but Eames could not recall a single moment. He remembered kissing Arthur, undressing him, and then...

His eyes fell to the clock: 12:00 AM, "Son of a bitch," Eames whispered under his breath.

"Eames?" A tired mumble came from Arthur. He opened his eyes slowly, a smile upon his flushed face, "Is something wrong?"

Eames swallowed, frightened to see Arthur's reaction if he knew the truth, "No, nothing darling, go back to sleep," He leaned forward, kissing his forehead gently. He nearly growled at the sight of Arthur's pale flesh in the moonlight, dotted with love bites. Bane was marking his territory.

Eames waited several hours till Arthur was in a deep slumber. He shimmied out of Arthur's grip slowly, creeping out of bed and into Arthur's suitcase. As he expected, Arthur had possession of the PASIV device used for the inception. Eames threw one look over his shoulder, checking to make sure Arthur was actually asleep, before inserting the needle into his skin and activating the machine.

"Bane!" Eames growled the instant he entered the dream. It was the same night roof again. Bane must've been feeling stunted in creativity today.

Calmly, quietly, Bane stepped onto the roof using the stairwell. His eyes were soft, almost sad as he walked over to Eames, "You called, Mr. Eames,"

"How dare you," Eames hissed.

"On the contrary, Mr. Eames," Bane replied, "How dare you hide Neil from me,"

"That was our night together. How dare you interrupt it!"

"I had no intention in ruining your night," Bane said in a condescending tone that drove Eames insane, "I was simply following the details of our contract. You had not given me my three hours in a week so I took over the final three hours of the day. It was only poor timing on your part."

In a sense, Bane wasn't wrong. Eames had timed that poorly. With Arthur finally in his arms, Eames had forgotten all about Bane and his contract. Eames really had no one to blame but himself for the miscalculation. Eames felt his anger against Bane settling. Bane, on the other hand, was not so forgiving.

He grabbed Eames by the neck with a single hand, slamming him hard onto the ground and stomping onto his chest hard. Eames screamed but his voice was cut off when Bane pressed a boot hard against his throat, "You," Bane growled. His eyes once sorrowful now burning with animalistic rage, "How did you hide Neil from me for so long?"

Eames laughed, choked, and subsequently coughed hard when Bane relieved the pressure on his throat, "I can't believe you didn't notice. Omnipotence in the subconscious, my arse!" Bane merely intensified his glare against Eames, "From the moment I sealed you, to the moment you awoke, years had passed. You have absolutely no memory of those years including all the people I met during it. Including Arthur!"

Bane let out a roar as he kicked Eames in the ribs, rolling him onto his stomach from the force, "I figured it out when you didn't know who Adrian was. And when I gave you your three hours in reality, I knew Arthur would be safe. You might be a master in the subconscious, maybe even a damn good forger, but you're an absolute shit point man just like me. There's no way you could have found out Arthur was Neil."

Eames had expected Bane to follow up with another attacked. He braced himself for a second, shutting his eyes and clenching his body only to feel the cold night air whistle around him. He opened his eyes again, watching Bane stand there with a melancholy look in his eyes. The breathing of his mask slowed down considerably from its normal pace.

Eames stood, slowly, holding his ribs as a burst of pain went through them, "So that time in Mombasa, it was Neil you spurned. How does that feel, you bastard."

"I was right. Arthur is completely my business," Bane grumbled.

"He knows you exist. Yusuf told him and he accepts me regardless," Eames swallowed, "This is the only night you will hold him. Mark my words, I will never let you have him ever again," Bane approached but Eames stayed strong, "I'll even give up forging for Arthur's sake. Now, you have nothing to threaten me with, nothing at all."

Bane nodded, amused by Eames's words, "If that is what you believe, very well," His words took on an amused tone but his eyes spoke an entirely different story. Eames was always good at reading his emotions but today, it was a complete mystery. His eyes weren't happy, weren't sad, weren't even angry. All Eames could tell was that he was definitely plotting due to the telltale twitch of his left eye.

"Before you awaken, Mr. Eames, does our arrangement still stand? Three hours of reality?"

"Of course," Eames replied, "You've earned that much,"

Bane chuckled hoarsely, "Earned? Interesting terminology,"

"Don't worry, I'll make sure Arthur is out of harm's way before I let you out,"

"I would never hurt Neil,"

"We have very different definitions of 'hurt',"

Bane burst out into cruel laughter, turning his back to the roof exit, "Clever as always, Mr. Eames, good day to you,"

Eames woke up, troubled. That was way too easy.

Eames barely had a wink of sleep that night. He feared that while he was unconscious, Bane would force his way out and take Arthur from him. He found himself cuddling Arthur as he slept, hugging him close like a teddy bear to ward off the boogeyman hiding in the shadows.

The boogeyman had nothing on the real demon hiding in the shadows.

"Eames, you look exhausted," Arthur said, stepping out from the shower in nothing but a towel around his waist.

Despite the haze of exhaustion, Eames still managed a hearty chuckle as he sat up, "Are you trying to make me feel bad for what I've been missing all these years? Because its working," He leaned back in bed, stretching as he continued to laugh. His arm entwined itself around Arthur's waist as the point man sat upon the bed, taking another towel to dry his hair. His fingers reached forward, tracing the bites and bruises along his back, suddenly remembering who had done this to him.

"Arthur, I'm sorry," He said quickly, his finger still tracing the line of love bites down his spine all the way to the swell of his butt.

Arthur turned to him, smiling unexpectedly, "It's alright. You were excited," He lay his head on Eames's stomach, the two making a T on the bed with their bodies, "Eames, our first night together, can you believe it?"

"Just barely," Eames said, trying his damndest to ignore the fact that Bane had stolen that night from him.

"How long has it been since we first met?"

"Almost fifteen years," Eames laced their fingers together, holding Arthur's hand close, "And for most of those years, we weren't even together,"

"I know," Arthur lifted Eames's hand, kissing the back of it, "Did you imagine it back then? What our lives be like? I always figured I'd be out there getting my hands dirty with illegal work and you'd be out there, beating people up for money,"

"That's actually pretty accurate," Eames chuckled, bobbing Arthur's head as he did. With his other hand, he brushed his fingers through the wet strands of Arthur's hair, "Do you believe in destiny?"

Arthur scoffed, knocking off Eames's hand playfully, "That's so cheesy,"

"I'll take that as a yes," Eames laughed again, sitting up so Arthur's head lay in his lap, "The sight of you wearing nothing but a towel with your face so close to my crotch really isn't helping my morning stiffy,"

Eames's heart nearly leapt out of his chest as Arthur flipped around on the bed and pulled down Eames's briefs, still sticky from the night, "B-Bloody H-!" Eames gasped before he broke out into a shrill moan as Arthur began sucking his erection. His hands reflexively found themselves on Arthur's head, threading through his wet hair and combing through them when they lost their grip, "Darling, darling, darling," Arthur's mouth felt amazing. He knew exactly how to stimulate him. Eames felt only velvety heat and a soothing, wet massage against his cock. When he felt Arthur's tongue tangle itself with the head, his hand finishing the rest of the shaft, Eames let out a throaty, uninhibited moan, hips jerking forward. He looked down, still stroking Arthur's head aimlessly, mind blown to pieces from pleasure. That sexy glare Arthur shot back, eyes low and shining with lust, pushed Eames right over the edge. He hit his orgasm, coming right into Arthur's mouth and splattering some onto his cheek. Eames lay back, basking in the afterglow for a long moment, shuddering as Arthur swallowed all his semen and wiped up his cheek.

"My god, Arthur," Eames said in a breathless voice, "That was bloody amazing. Where did you learn how to do all that?" He stopped, instantly. Ah, right, "Arthur, I'm sorry,"

Arthur lay beside Eames, face down so his wet hair wouldn't touch the pillow, "It's alright," He reached a hand forward, tracing the tattoo on Eames's right arm with a finger, "That last extraction, the one last job we had together back in the government. It taught me something important," He shook his head slowly, "I can't throw away my past," He looked to Eames with a sudden sadness that made the forger pull Arthur into his embrace, "Have I ever told you about Brian Lackey?"

Eames shook his head, "No,"

"He was...a friend. Back in Little League, Coach and I brought him back to his house," Arthur trailed off. Eames filled in the blanks himself, "Those horrible memories of Coach, he repressed all of them," A small, sad smile appeared on his face, "He thought he was abducted by aliens all these years. And then Christmas came, I left New York, met him again," He swallowed deeply, sitting up in Eames's arms but staying firmly tucked in his embrace, "I told him everything. And it all came back like a train, running him over,"

"He killed himself, didn't he?" Eames said in a soft whisper.

Arthur nodded, shutting his eyes, "A year later. He let those memories stew and fester for a year till he couldn't take it anymore. He hung himself on Christmas Eve." He felt Eames tighten his arms around him, almost suffocating him, "Eames?"

"God, Arthur, I should've went with you to Kansas," The thought of losing Arthur in the same way, having his awful memories consume him till death was the most pleasing escape route.

Arthur pressed his hands gently against Eames's face, soothing him, "Eames, it's okay. I'm alive, alright? But, that's not the point I was trying to make. What I was trying to say is that I can't leave my past and trying to repress it will only make it worse. It's a part of me and if you could accept that part of me, why shouldn't I accept it as well?" He pulled away a bit, examining Eames, "Eames? Are you okay?"

Not at all, Eames was not okay at all. The story tore at him but Arthur's mention of Brian and memory repression only agitated his already throbbing wounds caused by Bane. The more he held Arthur, the more frightened he was of Bane's escape. Eames almost laughed at the blackness of his humour. Here Arthur was, saying that he had to embrace his past, talking to the man who repressed his past to the point where it grew a consciousness of its own. A small smile was on his lips but died quickly as Eames pulled Arthur close again, "Just hold onto me for a while,"

Arthur returned the hug, snuggling into him and shutting his eyes. Eames stroked his back gently, feeling each lean muscle upon his back, "This might sound a bit dodgy, but back when I was training for Sparta, whenever I felt alone or upset because of my father or just everything in general, I'd dream of you holding me and comforting me," He snuggled deeper into his arms, cuddling him as if he was an actual teddy bear, "This feels amazing,"

A sigh came from Arthur as Eames's hand settled on the small of his back, "We should get up soon. We have fifteen years to catch up on," With the gentleness of a butterfly, Arthur took Eames's hand and walked him to the bathroom.

The two shared the shower together. Eames stood in the shower spray, stroking back his hair and scrubbing the shampoo in as Arthur scrubbed him down with soap. A small moan escaped from Eames's lips as Arthur traced the tattoos all over his body. Some were new, Arthur noticed. there was an England flag upon his chest right above his left pectoral. When he circled around behind Eames, Arthur pressed his lips onto the butterfly tattoo again. Their bond that kept them together even after the most impossible odds was manifested in physical form through this tattoo.

As hard as they tried to just shower, Eames and Arthur found themselves tangled in each other's arms again pressing kisses against every part they could reach. Arthur straddled Eames's lap as he toweled off the forger's hair. Eames distracted himself by sweeping his hands over Arthur's lean body, memorizing every curve and muscle.

"We should get you a tattoo," Eames said as he stroked the sensitive spot between Arthur's stomach and his right hipbone, "Right here, maybe something. So I can remember this is where you're most sensitive," Arthur smacked him playfully on the head before returning to drying Eames's hair.

With a handful of gel, Arthur combed his fingers through his brown locks. At first, he gelled it all back similar to Cobb's signature style. He backed away, shaking his head, "No, that comb over has become a part of you,"

"Arthur, we're not playing dress up here," Eames said, fixing his signature right heavy comb over, "If we were, I'd have you dolled up like a nurse,"

"In your dreams, Mr. Eames,"

"Good thing we specialize in that,"

Breakfast time had ended by the time they left the hotel room, too distracted by each other's presence. Eames was dressed in a leather jacket and simple top. Arthur, as always, dressed like he was going to work at high prestige bank. Every minute they spent together, whether it was merely eating lunch at a cheap diner or playing poker in the middle of a park, felt like heaven had descended upon them crushing them with its absolute bliss. Arthur had Adrian for a while, a serious relationship he hoped to carry on long term. On the other hand, Eames had been involved with one night stands throughout his entire career. Both searched for their soul mate in their own way but only now, when they were finally reunited, did they feel perfectly whole. You are my other half. The two whispered in their minds as they met for a kiss.

Eames never was a man with a plan; he preferred improvisation. Arthur was completely by the book, meticulously scheduling everything they could fit in one day right down to bathroom breaks. Eames played along for the most part, taking a look at Arthur's Blackberry every few minutes to make sure he wasn't overstepping any boundaries.

"Arthur, really, you scheduled time for ice cream too?" Eames took the Blackberry, scanning the schedule Arthur had planned along.

"I want to squeeze in as much as we can. A schedule is the best way to do so," Arthur reached for his Blackberry, growing suspicious when Eames pulled it away from his grasp, "Eames, give it back,"

Eames continued scrolling through it, holding it just out of Arthur's grasp every time, "Oh my, 'drop by sex shop'. You kinky little minx," Eames said, loudly, making sure everyone in their premises heard them. While Arthur was stunned with embarrassment, Eames popped the battery out of his Blackberry and handed it back to Arthur, pocketing the battery for himself, "There you go,"

"Eames, give that back!" He reached into the pocket of Eames's jacket. Eames was swift, always just out of Arthur's reach so he could barely feel his finger tips brush against his breast.

"We've played by your rules long enough, darling, now we play by mine," Eames said with a chuckle, grabbing Arthur's wrist and pulling him down the street, "I know I spotted the store around here somewhere," When he caught sight of it, he ran, dragging Arthur along far too eagerly.

Before Arthur could lay his eyes upon what Eames had found, the forger cupped his hands right over Arthur's eyes, "Eames? What are you playing at?"

"Trust me, love," He whispered into his ears, walking him into the store and down an aisle.

The store was dead silent with only the sound of a single customer meandering in the back. The store smelled mostly clean, like novelty plastic. The answer came to Arthur the instant he caught a whiff of that smell. He laughed, removing Eames's hands and looking upon the trinket store he had stepped into.

"You are such a child," He said, smiling brightly as he examined the trinkets.

Eames loved that smile, so carefree, so innocent, and dimples too, "You're welcome, darling," He picked up a shopping basket and shoveled as many different trinkets he could find into the basket. The cashier was certainly pleased, smiling almost psychotically thinking about the commission he'd finally rake in. Arthur continued to laugh behind Eames, the nostalgia in the air like laughing gas.

Everything felt well with Eames till his fingers grasped a metal box. He froze, Arthur's laughter muted, everything faded straight to black. He jerked his hand away, reality returning instantly. He couldn't look at Arthur, not while his heart pounded so viciously in his chest.

"Eames?"

"I'm fine, darling," Eames said, forging his most calmest persona, "Shall we bring these to check out?"

Arthur forgave Eames fairly quickly for holding his Blackberry battery hostage, won over by the wondrous trinket store Eames had found. They returned to the hotel, sitting on the bed and playing with the toys like children in a sandbox.

"And so, by pressing on the rounded end, a syringe will push fake blood through the supposed blade, mimicking a wound. I see, that's pretty simple,"

"Arthur, darling, it's not fun if you try to explain everything,"

"I figured out rigging the die too. You see, there's a weak lock that secured a moving weight within the die," Arthur was promptly shut up by Eames pressing his fingers to his lips. Arthur responded by kissing the pads of his fingers, "I can tell you about the multiplying poker chips too,"

Eames chuckled, still rubbing the multiplying chips in his hands, "Oh, we've got a whole box of tricks left. I'll find one to stump you," Eames leaned off the bed, reaching into the bag and stuffing his hand in like a boy reaching into a candy bowl.

His hands brushed something metal. What the hell. He hadn't picked up the box. Panic rose in him, engulfing him till all he saw was darkness and all he heard was heavy, metal breathing.

"Eames!"

Arthur's voice woke him, his hands on his shoulders steadied him, "What's wrong?"

Eames swallowed, pushing Arthur back as he took a deep breath, calming himself, "Nothing, darling, nothing," He looked back in the bag, no metal box in sight, "Arthur, before we continue our little game..."

"Bane, right?"

Eames nodded quickly, "There are some precautions we must take," He leaned over the bed, taking out a pen and pad of paper from the bedstead, "I'll write them down for you,"

"It'd be easier if you let me type them into my Blackberry,"

"Oh darling, I'm not falling for that," Eames's smirk hid little of his true feelings, "So, by any chance, if my behaviour changes or my voice sounds strange, stay away from me," Bane's exaggerated accent came to mind a bit too quickly, "Secondly, I made a deal to let Bane out for three hours every week in exchange for leaving my jobs alone. Every time those three hours arrive, get as far away from me as you can. Don't even tell me where you're going,"

Arthur nodded slowly, "You sure that's ideal?"

"Arthur, he's obsessed with you," Eames said, shameful, "He was Tommy. All those years trapped in the subconscious mutated him into a monster. All of his emotions, rage, love, have been corrupted in the darkness," He reached out, touching his fingers to Arthur's chin. He responded by nuzzling his hand, "My love for you, Tommy's love for you, has become a lustful obsession for Bane." Eames knew firsthand the extent of Bane's insatiable lust.

"Alright, just prompt me the day before,"

Eames nodded, scribbling that down for himself, "Thirdly, keep anyone who knows us away as well. That means Dom, Ariadne, Yusuf, everyone. No doubt Bane will do something to them if the opportunity arises. Fourthly, and most importantly, if you ever feel threatened, I want you to shoot me,"

"Eames, there's no way I'm going to do that,"

"I'd rather you kill me than have Bane hurt you," Eames said, quiet, solemn, "It would kill me to know that my hands, my actions led to your pain," He tore the page out from the notepad, handing it to Arthur, "If I remember anything else, I will write them down,"

Arthur's hands took the paper, laying it aside as he leaned forward and kissed Eames. His hands came forward, pressing them gingerly against Eames's shoulders and moving down his well-muscled arms. Eames smiled sadly, his arms wrapping around Arthur's waist and pulling him close. Someday, Bane will escape and exact his revenge against Eames. That much was certain. In that case, if his time with Arthur was limited, then Eames wanted to bring as much joy to Arthur's life as he could before he is torn away.

"Arthur, before we have to get back to work, I want to show you the world," He kissed Arthur's nose playfully, "This will be the happiest time in your entire life, I promise," Eames immediately reached over, shoving the used trinkets into another bag and depositing it into his suitcase, "We'll play with the rest of the trinkets later. Right now, let's go out."

"On a date?" Arthur asked with a coy smile, hanging the bag with the unused trinkets on the bedpost, "How cheesy,"

Eames wrapped his arms around Arthur, hauling him off the bed and right against his body, "Oh, darling, it'll be so much more than a date,"

---

"Oh darling, this wine," Eames moaned in pleasure as he sipped the wine in his glass, "You didn't have to,"

Arthur chuckled, tapping his Blackberry to shut off his wine selection app, "You said you wanted to make this the happiest time in my life. So certainly, I had to," He took his own glass, swirling the dark fluid and catching the wafting scent before taking a sip, "Only the finest for us,"

This was paradise, sitting on the balcony of the finest French restaurant in Los Angeles looking down at the entire city while sipping the finest wine they could afford. Arthur occupied himself with slices of blue cheese accompanying his wine while Eames settled for staring at Arthur gleefully as the point man ate.

"You're freaking me out," Arthur said with a chuckle, "Is there something on my face?"

Eames sighed happily, leaning in and touching his free hand, "All the wine in the world would not be worth a mere moment to gaze upon you," Eames was promptly shut up by a hunk of fancy cheese stuffed into his mouth.

"Cheesy," Arthur replied.

---

Eames was never a big fan of swimming. He was a swimmer when he was younger only because his father believed it was a great way to train the body. His hatred for his father inevitably bled into swimming and he grew to despise it. However, the chance to see Arthur in nothing but swimming trunks splashing around in the water won over his hatred.

Eames himself wore a tight black Speedo, providing little to nothing for the imagination. He sat himself down on a towel, staring up at the sunny, cloudless sky waiting for Arthur to leave the change room. The man must be shy, how cute. Eames giggled sheepishly to himself, thinking of Arthur too shy to expose his entire body.

"Eames, what are you laughing about?" Arthur said, eyes narrowing as he towered over the forger dressed in khaki shorts and a short-sleeved hooded shirt that bared only a small triangle of his chest. His eyes voyeuristically traced the tattoos of his shoulders down his sculpted chest towards the small patch of hair right at the band of his Speedo. He couldn't fight the blush building at his cheeks but luckily, Eames paid no attention.

Eames immediately jumped to his feet, horrified by the sight, "Arthur, what are you wearing?"

"Clothing for the beach," Arthur replied, eyes narrowing, "You told me to pack for the beach,"

"You call this clothing for the beach? You're wearing a shirt and pants!"

Arthur's eyes only continued to narrow, "You didn't bring me here to enjoy the beach at all, did you?"

"Of course I did. Let's go swimming, come on, take off your shirt," Eames said with a toothy smile, grabbing onto Arthur's arm with one hand and grabbing a fistful of his shirt in the other.

"Eames!" Arthur stuttered as the bigger man began dragging Arthur across the sand into the water, "Stop that. I mean it! I prefer being covered up when I'm in public," Eames nearly had Arthur's shirt over his head until a wave crept up from behind them and drenched Eames completely leaving Arthur miraculously dry. Eames merely stood there for a while, trying to absorb what type of magic Arthur had conjured to make that wave appear, "I warned you," Arthur said, chuckling.

Eames immediately retracted his hands, backing away cautiously, "Oh Arthur, the great deity, forgive my insolence,"

"Deity? Of what?"

"A sex god, most likely. Did you know Aphrodite was born from the sea?"

"Figured you'd be a classical mythology fan,"

---

Eames was not sure why he felt so upset at the moment. He was sure Bane had just taken over momentarily and did something in secret to put fear in his heart. Arthur and Eames found themselves in a small Karaoke bar huddled together at a small round table. Arthur sat up tall, watching Eames with his hands wrapped around an iced tea. Eames stayed slouched over the table, eyes locked with the cup of tea beneath him. Luckily, the bar was filled with few people. It was late at night, far too late for students but early enough to avoid the drunkards.

Arthur reached a hand out, stroking Eames's back soothingly as the man sulked over his tea. Eames's back jerked as he let out a dry chuckle, "It's kind of funny,"

"What is?"

Eames took the container of cream provided and slowly mixed it into his tea, "The irony," He tossed the container aside and merely watched as the milk dissipated into the dark drink, "When we met again, I was lecturing you about not hiding your past when all along, I was trying my damndest to hide my past. No, not just hide, I was trying to bury it till nothing traceable was left. Now it has come back to bite me in the arse," Eames let out another heartbreaking chuckle, "What does that say about me?"

"It says that we're very alike," Arthur said trying to lighten the mood, "There's nothing wrong with hiding from your past. You just have to realize that eventually, you'll have to reconcile with it,"

"That's easy for you to say. Your past isn't a sentient being dwelling in your mind," Eames took a sip of his milk tea.

"Do you remember that mission with Adrian, Cobb, and Mal? Do you remember how I lost control and broke into tears,"

"Of course, and I held you. It felt so right yet so wrong,"

"Do you remember my subconscious losing control and my projections started appearing?" Arthur took Eames's hands and lifted his chin with the other, "If you weren't there, I probably would have lost complete control of my subconscious. Don't you understand?" Eames shrugged weakly, "It's because you were there that I was able to get it all under control again. When all this was happening to you, you tried to face it alone, didn't you?" Eames didn't answer but he pouted like a child, "Maybe that's what you need, you need someone to face it with you,"

It's not the same. You didn't put me in danger. Eames wasn't listening at all to Arthur's words.

Arthur stood from the table when Eames did not respond. The forger was startled, immediately reaching for him, fearing that Arthur was leaving him behind. When he saw the point man head towards the stage, his panic became intrigue. He reclined in his chair, watching as Arthur took the microphone from a mousy looking fellow who could barely sing.

"Check one, two," Arthur muttered into the microphone. He withdrew his Blackberry and plugged it into the Karaoke machine, uploading his song list to the machine. When soft guitar began playing, Arthur pulled away from the machine and latched his microphone onto the stand. He held it gingerly with his fingertips as he began, "When the earth was still flat and the clouds made of fire..." Eames was genuinely surprised at the gentleness in Arthur's sharp voice. The softness of his voice somehow reminded him of Neil just a little. There was a vulnerability in his voice that made Eames remember the sweetness of Neil in Tommy's bitter life.

"Folks roamed the earth like big rolling kegs.

They had two sets of arms and two sets of legs.

They had two faces peering out of one giant head

So they could watch all around them as they talked while they read

And they never knew nothing of love

It was before...

The origin of love,"

Eames had never heard this song before. He heard murmurs that it was from a movie called Hedwig and the Angry Inch. One snobbish student sat in the back bragging how it was taken from a speech about love from Aristophanes, infamous for writing Greek comedies. Eames didn't care; he was too lost in this new softness to Arthur that he bet no one, specifically Adrian and Ariadne, had seen before.

The song continued slowly. Arthur serenaded the crowd with stories of how this race of multi-limbed kegs had three genders mixed with men and women. Though the tone was soft as before, the subject matter changed quickly to the gods of mythology plotting to punish this race for their insolence by splitting them in half.

The song slowed before picking up with drum beats akin to lightning.

"And then fire shot down from the sky in bolts,

Like shining blades of a knife and it ripped right through the flesh

of the children of the sun and the moon and the earth"

Eames left the round table, compelled to sit closer so he could absorb the sudden raw emotion coming from Arthur as he sang about the splitting of this race into two beings. The final phrase during that burst of raw emotion spoke of cutting down the beings again: If we don't behave, they'll cut us down again and we'll be hopping around on one foot, looking through one eye. Eames took a handful of his shirt into his fist. To be split into two was something too painfully familiar to him but he knew Arthur hadn't sang this song to mock him and Bane. Arthur's eyes opened as the music became serene again. He locked eyes with Eames, watching him as he sang.

"Last time I saw you, we had just split in two

You were looking at me

I was looking at you.

You had a way so familiar, but I could not recognize

'Cause you had blood on your face

I had blood in my eyes

But I could swear by your expression,

that the pain down in your soul was the same as the one down in mine"

Eames couldn't resist the sadness in Arthur's voice combined with the raw affection in his eyes. He stepped onto stage and pulled Arthur flush against his body. Arthur took the microphone off the stand, holding it against his mouth so the rest of his body could remain pressed to Eames's.

"That's the pain that cuts a straight line down through the heart

We call it love

We wrapped our arms around each other

Tried to shove ourselves back together

We were making love, making love"

Eames released Arthur, wrapping his arms around him from behind so Arthur could place the microphone back on the stand and finish his song with a voice filled with power and heart.

"It was a cold, dark evening such a long time ago

when the mighty hand of Jove

It was the sad story how we became lonely two legged creatures

It's the story of the origin of love

That's the origin of love,"

Applause came from the small crowd as Arthur finished his song and handed the microphone off. Instead of returning to their table, Eames grabbed Arthur and embraced him till he thought the thinner man might break. Now more than ever, Eames knew Arthur must've been his true half, his true love, his soul mate. Now more than ever, he wanted to take Arthur to bed and unite their two halves again.

"This Aristophanes fellow knows exactly what he's talking about,"

---

Fueled with absolute passion for the man beneath him, Eames spent no time stripping off his lover's clothes, promising to buy him new clothing when he accidentally tore the buttons off his fancy waist coat. The weight of his body pressing Arthur's body into the mattress felt absolutely amazing. This was his first time with Arthur. This time Bane would not interrupt. It would be his moment alone.

The love bites left behind by Bane only made Eames more voracious for the beautiful man beneath him. He left bites of his own, licking them over to soothe the ache they left behind. When his entire body was sufficiently claimed, Eames crept back up Arthur's body and proceeded to cover every inch of his face and neck with butterfly kisses.

"Eames," Arthur moaned at the sensation of his plush lips pressing all over his face, "More," A shrill moan escaped his lips as Eames brought his hand down and stroked both of them together at the same time. The heat was so intense and threatened to push both of them to their climax but both men fought to prolong their pleasure.

"As you wish, love," Eames replied, reaching into his discarded pants to retrieve a bottle of lube.

Arthur looked to the bottle in his hands through the haze of pleasure, "You carry that around with you?" He asked. His playful chuckle dissolved into a throaty moan as Eames bent down and began sucking on his cock, hard, "Oh god, Eames!" Arthur moaned. He didn't dare look at Eames. One look at his luscious, plump lips encircling his cock and he'd most definitely hit his climax.

"Just let me take care of you tonight, darling," He said, lips ghosting over the head of his penis. One slicked finger pressed down inside Arthur. The point man moaned again, covering his face as it flushed darker and darker, "Let me see your face. Please, darling?"

Arthur chuckled through the pleasure, moaning again as Eames took one of his testicles into his mouth and suckled on it, "When you're twisting your fingers so cruelly inside me, how could I agree to that?" He broke into a loud moan again as Eames's mouth returned to his now leaking erection, "Eames! I want you inside me! Please, it has to be now, please, please," He was reaching his climax fast. He needed to feel Eames inside him now or never.

"As you wish," Eames took Arthur's hand, kissing the back of it before moving so Arthur's knees were on either side of him, "I love you so much," He whispered into Arthur's ear before thrusting his lubricated cock deep inside Arthur.

He was so tight, so hot. Eames's entire body shuddered as that intense heat spread throughout his body torturously slowly. Their moans intertwined, joining together into a ballad of ecstasy. Arthur's hands found themselves clinging to Eames's back, gripping into the firm muscles that flexed with every thrust. Eames's hands found themselves alternating between jerking Arthur off and holding his hips to steady the angle. He rested his mouth right against Arthur's neck, continuously suckling at his neck and lapping at his ear at random to sent sudden bursts of pleasure through Arthur's body.

Both reached their orgasm almost simultaneously. Neither of them could truly tell, the pleasure completely wiped away their ability to think, replacing it with just primal ecstasy. The two lay together in bed, Eames still crushing Arthur's body with his own, basking in the afterglow that they wish lasted forever. The thin layer where their bodies touched was white-hot and threatened to melt them away. Eventually, when the orgasm passed, Eames rolled off Arthur but kept his arms still wrapped around him. A smile was plastered on his face. His wish from more than a decade ago was finally fulfilled. Arthur was his. Neil was his.

A playful smile was also on Arthur's face. He cuddled close, stroking his chest gently with one hand, "You're usually not this gentle in bed. Did the opera soften you up?" He kissed Eames's chin before shutting his eyes, losing himself to sleep and completely missing the baffled expression on Eames's face.

Opera? What Opera? He looked back down at Arthur, backing up gently so he wouldn't wake the sleeping point man. Usually? This was his first night with Arthur not counting when Bane took over. Wasn't it? He could recount exactly what had happened. They played with the trinkets, they went for wine, cheese, and other snack foods at a French restaurant, they dropped by the beach, and then they finished with karaoke.

No, when recounting the day, Eames could see the blatant inconsistencies. Arthur's Blackberry. The battery should've been tucked away with Eames but Eames clearly remembers Arthur playing around with it. They hadn't gone for dinner that day either, merely snacks at the French restaurant. There was no way they could have gotten to the beach while the sun was still up if they had left after the French restaurant. Most importantly, he could not remember how they had gotten from one place to another. It all just happened like a dream.

He reached for his totem first, rubbing at it. He wasn't dreaming.

His eyes fell upon the unused trinket bag hanging on the bedpost by Arthur's head. It was completely empty. He checked the bag in his suitcase finding it filled with used trinkets as he expected. Quietly, he picked up Arthur's Blackberry from the desk where it was being charged. He flipped it on, finding a folder affectionately called 'With Eames'. He opened it finding seven day schedules checked off.

Eames had lost an entire week's time with Arthur.

Eames didn't wait. He pulled the PASIV out from Arthur's suitcase, plugged himself in, and started his dream.

"Bane!" Eames shouted into the emptiness of the desolate, night beach Bane had created for him, "Get out here this instant!" There was no response, "You bastard, we had an agreement!" Eames began to wander around on the beach, searching for the monster in his mind. When he grew tired, he began surveying his surroundings. The stadium behind him was plastered with images of fighters on a red backing. He was back in Boardwalk on the beach he had met his brother during the Sparta tournament.

Heavy footsteps even against the soft sand alerted Eames of Bane's presence. He turned, looking at the masked man who kept his hands rested on the edges of his armored vest, "Mr. Eames, how was your day?" The bastard was mocking him.

"Marvelous, how was your week?" Eames hissed.

"Marvelous," Bane followed with a deep laugh which only made Eames seethe with anger even more.

"We had an agreement. Three hours a week and you stay out of my job," Eames said stepping right up to Bane, "What the hell was that!"

"Had our previous situation continued, I would have been more than happy to settle with three hours a week. Reality is simple and overall quite uneventful," Bane leaned forward, breathing his chemical breath right into Eames's face, "But our situation has changed, has it not? Do you think I'd really settle for three hours a week while you spend the rest of the 165 hours with my beloved?"

"Arthur is not yours,"

"But Neil is," Bane backed away, dropping his goatskin coat to the ground, "I met him first, after all," And then Bane was gone. In place was Tommy dressed in an ill-fitting grey shirt with jeans.

Eames growled, moving forward and grabbing Tommy's collar, hauling him towards him, "That is a lousy forgery!"

"I'm the forgery?" Tommy barked back, shoving at Eames's chest, "Open your eyes. You're just a forgery who grew a mind of his own and sealed me away,"

Eames shook his head, "You've got it backwards,"

Tommy cocked his head back. He made a face so sarcastic, so cocky that it made Eames's rage ignite, "Oh do I? Who are you, 'Eames'?" Dropping the honorific only made his name seem less natural in Tommy's mouth, "There never was an 'Eames'. There was a Tommy Conlon who grew up with a piece of shit father and inherited his bad temper who then got locked away in his own mind till he became old and vengeful. What's Eames? Where did he even come from?"

"I am Tommy!" Eames shouted back. He couldn't think of anything to say. Was Bane locking him out of his own ability to think? He couldn't be completely sure. Tommy's words weren't wrong and that only made him sting more, "Don't turn this against me. It has been over a decade. People grow up; people change. Just like Tommy did,"

A thick hand clamped around Eames's neck. Tommy was gone; Bane stood in his place, "Indeed. People grow up; people change. Just like Tommy did, into me," He shoved Eames hard into the sand, watching the man scramble for balance, "And now I'm taking back what belongs to me. My life, my body, my beloved," He chuckled loudly, "Mr. Eames, if you truly wished to remain in power, you never should have made a deal with me. All you've done is teach me how to break into consciousness."

"He's not your 'beloved'. He never will be,"

"On the contrary, Mr. Eames. For every day you spend with Arthur, I will have already spent a week with him," Bane said, "And why stop there? Maybe I'll make it month next. Maybe an entire year," He towered over Eames who lay on the ground just barely trembling, "You wanted control. That's why you sealed me away. But you see, Mr. Eames, you've never had control at all," He kneeled to him, using one finger to lifted Eames's chin, "I will take all of Arthur for myself. I will absorb everything about your life into my own. And I will let you awaken just long enough to see how nothing in this world belongs to you anymore. Then I shall prove to you that you are nothing but a forgery,"

Bane disappeared, or maybe he was never there. Eames was left laying in the sand, trembling in fear. There was nothing he could do. Every single morsel of control was ripped away from him. Everything was working out so well. Why did this have to happen?

A soft sound woke Arthur up. He shifted in the sheets, noticing that Eames was no longer beside him. Instead, the forger was seated at the foot of the bed hunched over. The PASIV was sitting on a chair beside the bed sending major caution signals to Arthur. He sat up, brushing back his loose hair as it fell into his eyes.

"Eames, are you alright?" Arthur whispered. He moved closer but Eames didn't respond, "Eames?" He whispered again, reaching out to his shoulder.

That's when he noticed his back trembling weakly. Those soft sounds that woke him up, they were sobs. Arthur immediately rushed over and pulled Eames into his arms. Eames fought at first; he didn't want Arthur to see his tears. However, as soon as his eyes fell upon Arthur's, he dove into the thinner man's arms and hugged him tightly. This could be the last time he held Arthur. He had to make it count.

"Eames, it's okay. I'm right here," Arthur whispered, shushing him as he rubbed at his back soothingly.

"And if we don't behave, they'll cut us down again and we'll be hopping around on one foot, looking through one eye," Eames whispered the verse from Arthur's song that tore through him most.

"Eames?"

"I thought this was our second day together," Eames sobbed weakly, "It isn't, is it?"

Arthur shook his head slowly, "No, it's been a week," The repercussions of what Eames had just said hit Arthur instantaneously. All this time, it was Bane who held him, "Oh god, Eames, I didn't know. He was just like you,"

"He's a master forger after all," Eames said with a sad chuckle, "And I'm his finest forgery,"

"You're not a forgery," Arthur took his face into his hands, staring straight into his eyes, "Whatever he said to you, it's not true."

Eames ignored him as he spoke, "Who's talking to you right now?"

Arthur stopped. He couldn't say. He hadn't felt anything different throughout the entire week. The only difference was in bed. Bane was rough, too eager. Eames was gentle. Arthur swallowed and touched Eames's face gently, "Eames. This one's Eames,"

The two could say nothing more but empty promises and laments. Arthur brought Eames back under the sheets and slept with his arms around him as if his presence could somehow rid the darkness in Eames's mind.

The next morning, Arthur awoke to a finger tracing over his features gently. He opened his eyes slowly, watching at the finger traced over his lips softly and down his chin, "Eames?" He whispered, looking up at the sad smile Eames gave him.

"Morning love," He whispered, planting a soft kiss on his forehead.

Arthur reached over to his bedstead, grabbing his Blackberry, "What time is it?" Eames stopped his hand, resting the Blackberry back onto the wooden surface.

"Can we stay inside today? Please, I don't want to do anything that Bane might take over," Eames said, lower himself so he remained on top of Arthur.

He was still hurting from what had happened. Arthur couldn't blame him. The two curled back under the blankets and pretended to go back to sleep. Every once in a while, Arthur opened one eye and watched Eames. The forger would frequently reach for Arthur's Blackberry, checking the date and time before going back to sleep for another twenty minutes. This one was Eames. It had to be Eames.

When Arthur finally coaxed Eames out of bed, the two ordered room service and ate together on the bed. Arthur managed to get a smile out of Eames when he fed him a spoonful of oatmeal and berries. The forger clamped down on the spoon, swallowing it like a child before reaching up to smear yogurt onto Arthur's cheek.

"Hey!" Arthur shouted, wiping at his face.

"Sorry darling, missed," Eames's dazzling smile appeared again. He held up another spoon of yogurt, "Say Ah," He cooed as he pushed the spoon to Arthur's lips. The point man opened his mouth, lapping away at the yogurt with his tongue seductively, "Saucy little minx," Eames muttered under his breath at the sight. This one was Eames. It had to be Eames.

There wasn't much on the television. Arthur had decided to leave it on The Discovery Channel but neither were truly paying attention. Instead, Eames had initiated a tickle fight instead taking advantage of the thin, easily removed sleeping clothes Arthur had on. The point man almost choked when Eames first buried his fingers into the soft flesh of his belly. He burst into laughter when the pressure continued, tracing almost to the front of his stomach towards his navel.

"Stop! Stop!" Arthur shouted, squealing when Eames's fingers found his navel and jostled his finger inside.

Eames could have stayed out of reach, happy torturing Arthur from afar, but he stayed close enough for Arthur to retaliate. When Arthur's hands came up and tickled the spot right beneath his armpits, Eames broke into deep laughter and flattened Arthur down onto the bed, "Stop that!" He muttered through his laughter, burying his face into Arthur's neck.

"What- You first!" Arthur replied, squealing again as Eames blew a raspberry into his neck.

Using his nimbler body, Arthur gained the upper hand and had Eames pinned to the mattress on his stomach. His thin fingers continued digging into Eames's underarms, forcing him into uncontrollable laughter, "Ah! I give!" Eames shouted, slapping the mattress with one hand.

Arthur relented, rolling onto the bed beside him with a large smile, "As always,"

Eames smiled absently as he shuffled over to Arthur, laying on top of him so he could rest his face next to Arthur's ear, "I love you," He whispered into his ear. Arthur tilted his head, kissing him softly before turning to face him completely. This was Eames. It had to be Eames.

By the time night fell, neither of them had left the room. They spent the entire day cuddling together and doing trivial tasks to pass the time. Eames was already curled up in bed by the time Arthur finished his nightly cleaning routine.

"Darling?" Eames said as he watched Arthur, "How did you take an entire hour to get ready for bed?"

"Cleanliness is next to godliness," Arthur replied, sliding into the sheets.

"You know what else is next to cleanliness? Neurosis," Eames joked, nuzzling his nose against Arthur's cheek.

"Go to sleep Eames," The two entwined their arms together when they slept locked in the other's embrace. Arthur buried his face into Eames's neck, still loving his scent even after all these years. Locked in Eames's embrace, Arthur felt whole.

Which came to be a big surprise in the morning when Arthur awoke with Eames curled up on the bed facing away from him. His arms felt empty without that warm weight against them. Eames was a serene sleeper, barely moving when he rested. Arthur left the bed first without disturbing Eames. He searched the room, trying to find anything out of place. The PASIV device was still strapped into his suitcase without a single vile of somnacin used.

The second item he checked was Eames's phone which was tucked into his leather jacket. Eames rarely used it outside of work so it merely sat in his pocket obsolete except when it was occasionally used as a paperweight. Arthur turned it on and checked the call history. Immediately, a call made to Yusuf late at night caught his attention. It was accompanied by a text message wishing Eames good luck with his next sedative order.

"Arthur?"

Arthur's heart leapt from his chest as he turned to Eames. The forger looked tired, restless but smiled to Arthur nonetheless, "Good morning," He tucked the phone away.

"Is something wrong?"

He wanted to ask Eames of the call. What did he need another sedative for? But as he opened his mouth, he stopped immediately. He couldn't tell if he was talking to Eames or Bane, "No," Arthur said, "Let's go for breakfast,"

The trend continued. In their waking hours, Arthur could tell that Eames was the one in charge. Eames constantly checked the calendar and time to make sure nothing was missing. When he held Arthur, he never tried marking him with his mouth in public. That was one distinct difference Arthur noticed. In that week Eames confirmed to have lost, 'Eames' constantly had his mouth on Arthur's flesh suckling on it till a mark appeared.

However, whenever night fell, Arthur could sense that something in Eames changed. Arthur stayed awake as long as he could, pretending to sleep when he heard Eames crawl out from his embrace with extreme precision, get dressed, and leave the room. Arthur could never stay awake till Eames returned. All he could confirm was that when the sun was up, Eames was back in bed.

One night, Arthur fell asleep early after drinking too much wine. They had only one day left before they had to return to work. Arthur and Eames spent it drinking as much fancy wine they could find and splurging on the most expensive foods in Los Angeles. He woke for the bathroom just at daybreak. The instant he left the bathroom, Eames entered the room with a grocery bag in hand. He wasn't startled at all but he looked to Arthur with definite surprise.

"Arthur, why are you up?"

"Bathroom," Arthur replied, staring at the grocery bag in his hand, "Why are you up?"

"I couldn't sleep," Eames replied, rubbing at his forehead, "I went down to the convenience store. Picked up some coffee for the day," He held up the grocery bag, tapping at the can of instant coffee, "Are you heading back to sleep?" Arthur said nothing, only stared at him, "Arthur, is something wrong?"

Arthur didn't move. He just waited, continuing to stare at Eames patiently. Not once did Eames check the calendar or the clock. This wasn't Eames at all. He stepped cautiously to the bed, reaching for the remote upon the bedstead.

"No, I can't get back to sleep," Arthur lied. He was obviously still tired but he couldn't afford sleeping in the presence of Bane.

"Alright, I'm going to sleep then," Eames said, laying down beside Arthur and pulling the blanket over his head. In moments, the forger began snoring softly lost in a light sleep. Arthur noticed his hair was unkempt, free of gel and loose on his head similar to how Tommy's hair once was.

Arthur shut off the TV and reached a hand over to ruffle the short brown locks. Even after all those years, Eames was absolutely beautiful in Arthur's eyes. He was certainly not as handsome as Adrian or charming as Ariadne but Eames had this allure that Arthur couldn't resist.

I'll help you through this. I'll save you. I promise.

In the silence of the room and warm heat radiating from Eames, Arthur couldn't help but fall asleep. When he awoke again, Eames was still in bed sleeping blissfully. The digital clock by the TV blinked 1:00 pm. Arthur clicked his tongue and stood from the bed quickly. He was supposed to call Ariadne two hours ago about a new job opportunity he had received over the phone. Arthur walked to the kitchen, opening the cupboard to see two cans of instant coffee: His own brand and the can Eames had bought in the middle of the night. The one Arthur had bought was already running dangerously low. There was no way he could brew a comfortable amount of coffee with that amount but he feared what Bane could've possibly done with the other can.

Regardless, Arthur took the tiny amount left over and brewed an incredibly diluted cup of instant coffee. The instant coffee itself was already hard to stomach. Arthur gagged as he poured the bland beverage down his mouth.

"Darling?" Eames said, stretching in bed, "I'm exhausted. Is there any coffee left over?"

As expected, he doesn't remember buying the coffee at all. It truly was Bane who was conscious this morning, "No coffee," Arthur replied. He didn't tell Eames about Bane. There was no point. The man couldn't control it; it would only make Eames worry more, maybe even run away in fear of hurting Arthur.

Something was wrong. Bane was usually completely discreet. For that first week, Arthur could not notice a single difference between Bane and Eames. Only when he concentrated hard did he see the inconsistencies between the two. Bane was too obvious right now, too sloppy. Arthur picked up the empty can of coffee and almost tossed it into the trash until something caught his eye.

Instant coffee powder was settled at the base of the trash. There wasn't much in there, only a little more than a table-spoonful. Just like the amount that was used to brew his diluted coffee. Just like the amount that was leftover in his can.

"Sweet dreams," Eames's voice cut through the silence as Arthur's vision began to spin violently. The point man's knees gave out from under him and he collapsed into the warm embrace of Eames. His last sight before he passed out was Eames, smiling back at him with cold, empty eyes.

Arthur awoke with a violent jolt. His hands were bound behind him with what felt like zip ties. He growled, trying to wrestle his arm free. From where he sat, he appeared to be on a rooftop during a sunny morning. A completely lacking of any other buildings past the railing signalled Arthur that this must've been a dream.

"Arthur, so glad of you to join me," The voice was deep and comically accented. Bane stepped out from the stairs and kneeled to the bound man, "Finally, I can see you in my world,"

"Bane," Arthur whispered. He couldn't hide the terror that birthed from the presence of this man. He had never once envisioned Bane to look like a monster, bald, scarred, masked, and with eyes like a predator. The mask he recognize immediately. It was the trick box that him and Tommy had never figured out how to open. This only confirmed that Bane really was a portion of Eames, not a foreign entity, "Oh god, Tommy,"

Bane chuckled, tracing Arthur's face with his hands, "I knew you'd be able to recognize me," His fingers traced Arthur's lips, dipping down his chin.

Arthur shuddered at the touch. He remembered that day when he awoke with Eames tracing his face. He thought that was Eames, not Bane, "Oh god," Arthur said, jerking away, "How long were you impersonating him?"

"Beloved, I never stopped impersonating Eames since the night he figured out that I stole a week of his life from him," Bane laughed as Arthur screamed in anguish. All of this was planned right from the start. He only needed for Arthur's guard to weaken, making him not even question that his own can of coffee could have been tampered with, "I'm a master forger after all and Eames is but a forgery,"

"Eames is not a forgery!" Arthur shouted, trying to wrestle his arms free. He gasped when Bane pressed his mask against his neck. The cool metal startling him. Now he knew exactly why Bane was so fixated on marking him in reality, in dreams, his mouth could never mark Arthur with the mask on.

His large hands came around Arthur, soothingly stroking him through his suit which Bane had so generously dressed him in, "Beloved, I love you more than Eames ever could. When Eames shut me away in the darkness, your light, your love was the only thing that kept me alive," He nuzzled Arthur's neck affectionately but all Arthur could feel was cold metal grinding against his flesh, "You are my single memory of absolute happiness."

Arthur swallowed, feeling almost too good in Bane's embrace. He couldn't help but feel that the warmth of Bane's arms felt exactly like Eames's, "Is it because of me that you were freed?" He recalled what Eames had said, how he suppressed Tommy's persona deep inside him and how it resurfaced after Arthur's breakdown. He remembered the return of that animalistic rage as Eames gunned down all the projections that wouldn't stop haunting him.

"It was a burst of rage, uncontrollable rage that freed me from my jail. And then the intense feeling of love that made me stay," He held Arthur's face gently, "I don't know what had happened but I knew it must've been Neil. No other person in this world have I ever had some much passion for." His predatory eyes softened. Arthur couldn't help but liken them to Tommy's eyes, "I love you more than Eames ever will,"

"I don't love you," Arthur choked out, "How can I love someone who torments Eames so brutally? You might be Tommy, you might even be the original, but you're also a monster."

Bane held nothing back when he struck Arthur across the face. Arthur felt his body jerked to the floor as pain exploded in his jaw. For a moment, Arthur contemplated shouting at Bane, telling him that Eames would never do something like this. He knew better than that. Eames would never do something like this but a mentally disturbed Tommy was most definitely not above it. He'd seen Tommy lose control and striking Arthur over the face, especially if he really had been mutated into Bane, was definitely something possible for him.

With one hand, Bane lifted Arthur up by his left elbow. Arthur glared at him with all his anger, "What are you going to do to me?"

"Nothing," Bane replied, "Not until Mr. Eames arrives,"

"Eames?" Arthur murmured.

The last memory Eames could recall was sobbing into Arthur after Bane had threatened his life. Now he found himself lying on a concrete floor in a completely empty room. How many days had he lost this time? He sat up slowly, stretching weakly as he examined the room. The room was completely bare except for an arrow which was painted on the ground pointing him down a path.

"Oh god no," Eames gasped when he turned down the path. Arthur was laying on the ground, bullet wound right through his forehead. He rushed to his side and scooped him up into his arms, "No, no, this has to be a dream," He reached into his pocket, rubbing the poker chip in his fingers. Fortunately, chips began raining from his hands. He sighed in relief and pocketed the chip.

As he lifted Arthur's dead body, he noticed a message written directly beneath him. How far are you willing to fall for him? Eames could not comprehend at first till he realized that Bane was nowhere to be seen. There were no other PASIV devices so he couldn't have gone down a level in his dreams. No, he went down the dreams another way.

He was in limbo with Arthur. Eames waited no time in taking Arthur's gun and shooting himself clean through the head.

"Bane!" Eames shouted when he awoke on a rooftop. He had to grab Arthur and get out as fast as he could. If his comrades were right, staying in limbo for too long would wreck one's will to leave it. He could only hope Arthur had not stayed there for too long and hope that Bane had not done anything to him during his time there, "Show yourself,"

"Eames!" It was Arthur's voice.

Eames turned to the source immediately, frightened at the sight of Bane dangling Arthur over the ledge with only a grip on his forearm, "Oh god," Eames gasped as he approached them, "Bane, what are you doing?"

"Forcing your hand, Mr. Eames," Bane replied.

"If he dies from the drop, Arthur will only wake up. There's no point in this,"

"Perhaps if there were only normal dreamers in limbo but I am certainly not normal, am I? We've played by your rules long enough, now we play by mine."

Limbo shook violently, the ground crumbling beneath them till the roof and sky was all that remained. Arthur looked down, watching as a swirling darkness formed beneath where he dangled, "What is that?" Arthur gasped, fear creeping up on his voice.

Through the cracks of the roof, Eames could see the mass of pitch blackness forming, "Bane, what the hell is that?"

"Negative subconscious, a prison in which only nothingness exists. There is no matter. There is no time. Anyone who falls in there will have their minds trapped. They will experience an eternity with absolutely nothing." Bane chortled deeply, dangling Arthur further over the edge, "It is the only true way to erase memories, by repressing them in a way that prevents their escape. I'm not sure what it would do to a consciousness, but we're about to test this, aren't we?"

Arthur wanted to struggle but the prospect of negative subconscious deep inside limbo struck fear in him that froze him. He looked to Eames, trying not to plead with his eyes.

Eames stepped forward, "Bane, you don't want to do this. You love him,"

"You're right. I don't," Bane replied, "But this is a necessary evil." He pulled Arthur back just enough so he could rest one foot firmly on the edge of the roof, "Throw yourself in, Mr. Eames, or I'll throw Arthur in," Bane looked confused at Eames's baffled expression, "You don't really expect me to merely seal you away in the subconscious as you did to me, do you? I learn from your mistakes. If I plan on sealing you away, I won't let you have the opportunity to learn of the subconscious or learn how to manifest yourself in reality as I had."

Arthur shook his head violently, "Eames, don't do it! We'll figure this out together," Arthur let out a gasp as Bane dangled him further over the edge. He swallowed the scream that almost slipped out, "Shit, Eames, get out of here. Now!"

Eames could feel the gun on his hip. If only he could shoot Arthur first and save him from limbo. Arthur wanted him to shoot himself, free himself from limbo and leave Arthur at the mercy of Bane. He took the gun in his hand and tossed it over the rooftop.

"No! Eames! Stop!"

Eames stepped past Bane, stepping onto the ledge.

"Damn it Eames, I love you. Don't do this!"

He locked eyes with Arthur, smiling to him, "I love you too," He looked to Bane harshly, "Bane, you better take good care of him or else I swear to god I'll find a way to kill us both,"

Bane nodded, "Duly noted," He was mocking him.

"Eames!" Arthur screamed as the forger stepped over the edge. His body was swallowed by the darkness, leaving nothing behind. Arthur felt his body racked with uncontrollable sobs as he fought to free himself from Bane's grip, "Let go of me you bastard!" He growled as Bane hooked him into a warm embrace. His armored vest chafed at his front, "Don't touch me. I hate you! I'll always hate you!"

Bane grabbed his chin, lifting his head up so he faced him. Arthur was immediately silenced by the sight of Eames staring back at him. At the sight of his pleasant face, Arthur relaxed. No, it wasn't Eames. Arthur could tell from the coldness in his eyes. This Eames was wrong, plotting something; those eyes felt like they were draining him of his thoughts. Before he could even think about renewing his struggling, Bane reached into Arthur's pocket and withdrew first his phone and then two slips of paper: One was an envelope labelled 'From Yusuf, about Eames', the other was the small note where Eames had written his rules for dealing with Bane. He tossed the phone first, glaring at it as it fell. Bane then tossed both papers over the roof and watched them flutter into the black hole. He turned back to Arthur instantaneously, staring into his eyes till Arthur felt as if his body was being crushed.

Arthur awoke. The sheets were soaked in a cold sweat. He panicked, eyes falling onto the clock beside him. It was 11:00 pm. After a moment of hysterical panicking, Arthur paused and took a deep breath in before he realized, he had no idea what he was panicking about.

"Arthur?" Eames murmured, waking from the bed and wiping his eyes, "Are you alright?" He touched the damp blanket, "Bloody hell, Arthur, are you okay?"

It was on the tip of his tongue. Arthur knew something was wrong. He guaranteed that something horrible had just happened. However, something was blocking his mind. What just happened? Why was he so scared? A pleasant stroke on the back from Eames calmed him down enough to cuddle back into Eames's strong arms.

"Whatever it was, I'll protect you," Eames whispered into his ear, kissing him on the shoulder.

Arthur nodded gently. Even as he pressed against Eames's flesh, something in the pit of his stomach was screaming at him, telling him he should be cautious. Even with the most intense concentration, Arthur could not remember it at all. Bane, he remembered someone named Bane.

"Eames?"

"Yes, love?"

"Does the name Bane mean anything to you? I can't get it out of my head,"

"Sorry, I've never heard of anyone named Bane before,"

"Ah, I see. Alright then,"

The ominous feeling never left. What was he missing?

"Goodnight, Eames,"

"You too,"

Arthur fell back asleep, as planned. Eames would claim that he had a horrible hangover the night before and discard the drugged coffee crystals he had prepared. He replied to Ariadne, telling her that her services was no longer required. After all, Arthur needed him and him alone. Eames smirked into Arthur's hair, continuing to stroke his hair even after he was asleep.

"Beloved,"

---

And I love you so much, I'm gonna let you kill me

There but for the grace of God go I
And when you kiss me, I am happy enough to die

"I'm not calling you a liar" - Florence and the Machine

---

I always wondered if I had diverged too far from my original story by including Bane but I like the idea of Bane being an omnipotent dream being. Tell me what you think! And if anyone is wondering where that whole Bane in the forest chase came from, search up "Bane plays Slender" on youtube for some good times