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"

6. Despair Gambit

Thanks for sticking to this fic! I'm glad that I was able to keep up consistent updates. The process of this fic actually spanned over about an hour a day for a month or so. Near the end, I got a bit into sadistic Bane fanfics and that ended up bleeding into my fic. This is the official last chapter but I will be including an epilogue sometime soon. This chapter title was brought to you by TVTropes who named this gambit as Bane's favourite gambit

BIG WARNINGS: This is pretty much why the fic was rated M. Torture/Rape, Kidnapping, psychological torture. Gets really frequent and intense (At least in my perspective) so I apologize if I offend anyone.

---

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

---

The air was warm and clean unlike the harsh, musty air of the abandoned factory. Arthur woke to soft, plush blankets wrapped around him and an expensive silk pillow nestled under his cheek. He groaned, a dull headache building in his temples. When he reached up to feel his forehead for a fever, a metal jangle and coldness wrapped around his wrist alerted him instantly. He opened his eyes, seeing the handcuffs tightly wrapped around his wrist. A gentle clicking caught his attention. He rolled over in the bed, nearly passing out from a sudden headache that came from the movement. His eyes fell upon Eames, sitting on a wooden chair shirtless with bandages all around his neck and chest, playing with a lighter in his hands.

"Eames," Arthur mumbled.

"Ah, beloved, you're awake," Eames said, smiling as he continued to play with the lighter, his thumb turning the thumbwheel yet producing no flame.

The golden, engraved surface was an instant reminder to Arthur of what had just transpired. Gunshots and blood, too much blood, flashed through his mind. He had a million and one things to cry out but his exhaustion only allowed him to whisper one word, "Why?"

Seeing how Arthur eyed the lighter, Eames assumed he talked about Adrian, "He said he claimed you. I won't allow anyone else who has claimed you to live. You belong to me and me alone," He sat upon the bed and planted an arm behind Arthur, towering over him with his body, "I won't share you with anyone. Adrian, Cobb, Ariadne, Eames, no one."

"Why me of all people?" Arthur whispered, "Because I'm Neil? Because I loved you?"

Eames moved in quickly, too quickly, too close. Arthur let out a quiet whimper unheard to Eames at the sudden proximity, "You were the only remnant that I could find happiness in all those centuries trapped in Eames's mind. At first, I thought the memories were good enough but now that I have you, I will never let you go." Arthur shuddered violently, jerking away from Eames only to be pulled back by the collar of his loose dress shirt, "I only wish to protect you from getting hurt, beloved, and show you how much you mean to me," His eyes were so mesmerizing, so affectionate. Combined with the passion in his deep voice and his alluring musk, Arthur almost wanted to give in and lose himself to Eames.

Images of maggots crawling through the shower of bullet holes in Adrian's body and Ariadne laying lifeless, mangled on some mechanical equipment immediately doused his passion for Eames. Arthur reached up with his left leg and kicked Eames hard in the stomach, forcing him off the bed.

"To hell with you," Arthur hissed, squirming back on the bed. A headache seized his body at the worst time as Eames took his moment's pause to grab him by the shoulders and slam him harshly to the wall. Arthur's vision spun and he nearly threw up, "Protect me from getting hurt? You're the reason I've been covered in bruises for the last month!"

Eames growled, glowering at Arthur, "This is necessary harm. How else will you learn to conform?"

"Conform to what? Your idea of Arthur? This isn't the subconscious. I'm not a projection. I'm not under your control!" Arthur barked back. He twisted his head out of the way, expecting the harsh slap. In response, Eames threw Arthur face down on the bed and held his face against the mattress as he began stripping off the boxers and sweatpants he had given him.

Eames used little lubrication as he thrust into him violently, gripping his hips till his fingers grinded into his hip bone. Arthur bit through his lip holding back his screams. He wouldn't let Eames get the satisfaction of seeing him scream. When the pain was too much and his lips were in shreds, Arthur bit down on his pillow, using his bound hands to steady the position.

Eames slowed as he reached his climax, reaching down to Arthur's half-erect penis to stroke him to completion as well. At the touch, Arthur released the pillow and gasped, "Stop!" He moaned as pleasure began to mix with the humiliating pain. Eames shook his head, smiling as he continued to thrust his curled fist up and down Arthur's erection.

Eames timed it perfectly, both of them coming seconds apart. As soon as he withdrew, he inserted his fingers into Arthur's ass, checking for any tearing. Arthur, shuddering, looked back at him with tears in his eyes, "Beloved, you will conform," With his free hand, he gently stroked Arthur's sweat matted hair, "You will learn to love me just as I love you. It's only a matter of time,"

"Fuck you," Arthur hissed back, defiant even in exhaustion. He cried out weakly as Eames began twisting his fingers inside of him, "Stop it, stop it," He muttered fast. The forger continued relentlessly until Arthur was a sobbing mess on the bed.

Arthur's days became a painful routine. If Eames didn't have a job, he'd drop by and bring him food, all of which Arthur rejected just to spite him. While Arthur sat on the bed or tried to distract himself by pacing around the room, Eames would sit back in the heavy wooden chair and watch him intently, sometimes trying to make small talk. Anytime Eames got tired of Arthur's silence or Arthur shot a spiteful word at him, Eames would strike him hard. Arthur could struggle all he wanted but he was helpless against Eames's strength combined with his bound wrists. After each beating which left Arthur bruised and curled up in pain on the floor or bed, Arthur would stare at his bound wrists and wonder if he could just free his hands then he could do some massive damage on Eames. He was certainly not a former mixed martial arts champion but he'd gone through more than enough training to make him on par with Eames.

If Arthur tried to placate Eames by responding to his words, Eames would instead pin him to the bed and fuck him wildly. It only took Eames a few days to figure out all of Arthur's hot spots and exploit them until Arthur was drowning in hot, steaming pleasure. The one time he shot Eames a small smile after he made a joke about Cobb, Eames spent the entire day copulating with him in bed taking hourly breaks to keep both of them able. Never again did Arthur dare to smile at Eames.

Arthur could take pain. Arthur could endure. But anytime Eames used pleasure to render him helpless, Arthur felt that he was losing himself. A part of him wanted to take all the passion Eames offered and use it to smother the common sense that begged him not to fall for Eames's tricks. No more kind words; no more placating. It was going to drive him insane.

On the days that Eames had a job, he'd leave several plastic containers with food for him to eat for the next few days. He never provided cutlery. Eames must've rightfully suspected that Arthur would consider using them as weapons.

The first time it happened, Eames had been gone for three days and he had left nine plastic containers. Arthur popped open the first one and ate the apple sauce oatmeal Eames had created. Eames was an awful cook. He had to tell Eames that when he returned. When he finished his meal, he reached onto the floor and pulled on his discarded boxers, tossed aside last night by Eames when he ravished him.

The room Eames left him in seemed simple but with careful analysis, Arthur could tell much planning was put into this room. The bed and bed stand was bolted down to the floor preventing him from using either as a weapon. The only other piece of furniture was the leather chair by the bed where Eames usually sat. Arthur tried lifting it but the chair was far too heavy to use effectively as a weapon. The ceiling fixture, a simple multi-headed light, was just out of reach from Arthur. Eames suspected rightfully that he might break the light bulb and use the glass as a weapon.

The bathroom had no door and was furnished with a small sink, a shower stall, and a toilet. Soap and shampoo were all provided in small bottles. The lights were, once again, completely out of reach to him even if he stood on the sink.

There was no windows or clocks. Time was kept only from the sliver of light coming from the door which was sealed with a digital keypad lock. Arthur paid no mind to this but during one day without Eames, he had realized its function. If Arthur had figured out a way to subdue Eames, he'd still need Eames to open the door for him. By the chance that he accidentally killed Eames, he'd be locked in here without the code.

"Smart bastard," Arthur muttered, opening one container and eating the pork pie Eames had prepared. A few bites in and Arthur began formulating the most spiteful way he could tell Eames that his cooking was absolutely horrendous.

When he finally got the chance, Eames merely laughed and promised that he would go out and buy better food. To Arthur's surprise, he really had bought food for him the next time.

Eames was always insatiable whenever he returned from a job. He'd rush into the room, drag him onto the bed, pin him down, and take him mercilessly while murmuring soothing words that contrasted his heinous actions. Arthur hoped that he could endure but after the fifth time it happened, Arthur began dreading the times when Eames had a job even if it gave him days of peace by himself.

After every romp, Eames would take Arthur into his arms and curl up with him under the blankets, mumbling sweet words into his hair and describing his day like a normal lover would. Arthur didn't respond. He couldn't think of anything spiteful to say while Eames casually remarked on his day.

Today was a special case, however. Eames had just gotten back from an assassination job. Blood was still visible on the cuff of his shirt. He looked clearly exhausted but regardless, he was still insatiable for sex. He dragged Arthur out of the shower, threw him to the bed, and stripped quickly as he raped him. Unable to find anything to bite down on other than Eames's shoulder, Arthur cried out from the intense pain and pleasure which only made Eames move faster and harder. He bit down on Eames's shoulder when the thrust became too much for him. Absently, he tilted his head and examined his neck where the butterfly tattoo was.

He was greeted with the sight of scarred tissue without a spot of ink on them.

Arthur broke down shortly after, hysterically crying even after Eames released him. Eames said nothing as well, merely stroking Arthur's head softly and comforting him through the tears. The next day, Arthur was only barely recovered, almost catatonic. Eames decided to bring in something to show him, something to cheer him up again.

"I've collected plenty of totems," Eames said, lifting a box from his briefcase, "Think of them as souvenirs for my job," Arthur shuddered at the way he said those words so calmly. His eyes were fearful; Eames caught it quickly, "Don't be scared, beloved. I'd never kill you even if they paid me all the money in the world," He opened the box, revealing a plethora of little colourful trinkets.

Eames let Arthur search through the box. Immediately, Arthur dove into the box to make sure Cobb's top and Ariadne's chess piece weren't in there. To his pleasure, both totems were not inside. Adrian's lighter was there, however, which always made him shudder and think about horrific torture Bane had put him through in the dream world.

"Would you like to keep one?"

This could be his chance. Eames assumed that the totems were harmless just as he assumed Arthur always had no imagination. That wasn't true, not in the slightest. Arthur nodded and reached into the box, searching through the box for useful totem. His hands fell upon an origami crane that appeared to be made of paper but in reality, was made of sheet metal.

"Ah, I liked that one too," Eames said, touching the head of the crane, "Took that off a Japanese point man," He pressed his lips to Arthur's forehead, tracing up the arm that held the toy crane, "What's in your mind, Arthur? What are you thinking?" He nipped on his ear and put the totem box aside. For this one night, Arthur would let him indulge in his pleasure. In gratitude, Eames would let him keep the totem and that was worth all the debauchery Eames put him through.

As luck would have it, Eames was off on another job for the next day. It was a one-day job which meant Arthur had to work fast. He never knew when Eames would return but judging from the rations, he'd be back before dinner time. With the correct amount of leverage, using one soap bottle as a handle, Arthur snapped off one metal wing. With the wing still attached to the body, he began carving at the severed wing, sharpening it till it was almost a blade.

The thought of slashing Eames's throat with the blade had gone through his mind several times but he refrained from the thought. With the soap, he lubricated the sharpened wing and pressed it between the door and the doorframe, trying to wedge the lock free. For a few minutes, Arthur's hope began to dwindle. The adrenaline rush he had received when he thought he'd finally escape was declining when the lock refused to move.

And then a click came, Arthur wedged the sharpened wing further. A second click came and he jerked the door open. Yes! Arthur shouted in his mind as he stepped out of his room, breathing in the fresh air coming from the open window. There were trees all around him. This must've been a summer home of sorts Eames had bought. It was rather spacious with a studio interior. The kitchen was well furnished. Arthur immediately took a knife from the cutlery cupboard and held it close. Could he stab Eames if the chance arose? Probably not, but he had to take the chance. It was substantially colder than the tiny bedroom he was given. He eventually found a fur lined, tan jacket from the closet and draped it around himself. No pants were provided though, only the barest of necessities were here. There wasn't even a phone or computer. This must've truly been Eames's summer cottage, completely separated from work.

He was horrified when he pulled open the curtain. All he saw was trees and water. In disbelief, he slipped on a pair of sandals too big for his feet and rushed out. Water, everywhere around him, with only a sliver of land to the east. He ran to the dock hidden by several rocky cliffs. As expected, there were no boats. Eames must've taken the only one.

He explored the tiny island, finding only trees and rocks upon it. Arthur couldn't imagine the amount of money he had in order to pay for it. Assassinations paid a lot, a lot more than dream crime. The sound of a boat motor going alerted him immediately. His heart pounded at the sight of a boat coming towards the island. Immediately, Arthur ran back inside, threw the coat into the closet, and placed the knife back in the drawer. He hesitated just for a second. If he killed Eames now, he could escape. No one would have to know. Eames would likely have a phone on him too.

In the end, he couldn't do it. It became harder and harder to remind himself that his Eames was still alive, trapped inside Bane but he stuck to the reminder. Arthur returned to his room, hid the sharpened wing, and lay down on the bed feigning sleep. The sex became less brutal in Arthur's mind as he conjured his plan to escape.

The next time Eames had disappeared, Arthur left his room and began collecting his materials for escape. He took flour and spread it gingerly over the white surfaces, nearly unnoticeable if someone was unaware. With pepper, he spread it over the black counters and with brown sugar, he coated the wooden surfaces. He sealed the windows just a bit so an outside breeze wouldn't blow away his camouflaged powders. If there had been more time, he would have preferred using a coating of dust to figure out where Eames placed the boat keys but he hadn't the time to wait for a coating of dust to build.

When Eames returned and lay with him, Arthur couldn't resist a goofy smirk on his face, "What's so funny, beloved?" Eames cooed into his ear as he continued rutting into him, jerking him off as he did and twisting his nipple with the other hand.

"Nothing," Arthur gasped through a throaty moan, his bound hands wrapping around Eames's neck. You're only playing along. Don't get lost in it.

As he planned, when Eames had left again, Arthur checked all the coated surfaces. Sure enough, on a wooden coffee table hidden behind the couch, the telltale markings of keys interrupted the even layer of brown sugar he had applied. The day Eames was supposed to return, Arthur took hourly doses of heavy caffeine to make sure he could stay awake after Eames had fallen asleep.

The night Eames returned, Arthur had never been more anxious. That night, he played the sweet whore to Eames's desires, indulging him with whatever he wanted. He needed all his energy for tomorrow and he couldn't let Eames beat him into submissions as he usually did. That night felt too good. Eames was slow, Arthur was wanton. The two matched low, throaty moans with their thrusts and when they came, they both savoured it and milked it for pleasure.

"I love you," Eames whispered into Arthur's ear, laying on top of him and shutting his eyes.

Even with his mind hazy from the intense pleasure, Arthur used sheer willpower to force himself to realize that this man is monster. He shut his eyes, feigning sleep till he could hear Eames on top of him. Eames always had a habit of letting his mouth drop open when he was in a deep enough sleep. Arthur used it as his signal to creep out from under his arms and make for the door. With the metal wing, lubricated again with soap, Arthur dislodged the lock and exited quietly.

With silent steps, Arthur snuck over to the coffee table behind the couch. He gasped, no keys. He looked around. There was only the moonlight to guide him; he was too afraid to turn on the light and alert Eames. He spotted Eames's briefcase by the door and rushed to it immediately, fumbling as he unlatched it and searched through it.

Papers, reports, records, nothing! Arthur screamed in his mind, emptying the entire case to find anything he could use. It didn't make sense for Eames to not have his phone on him. How would he receive clients then? His sugar trick worked well enough; he had found where Eames placed his keys. He could only come to one single conclusion.

Eames's hand clamped down on his shoulder, "Aren't you missing something?" He held up the other half of the origami figure, the part Arthur completely overlooked.

Arthur screamed and thrashed when the hand at his shoulder clamped over his mouth while the other circled around his waist, lifting him and carrying him back to the room. Eames hurled him onto the bed and instantly, Arthur flipped himself over and scrambled off the bed. Eames grabbed his ankle, sitting onto the small of his back and grabbing his wrists.

"Naughty, naughty," He said with a chuckle, "I knew you'd come up with some elaborate escape plan, Arthur," He took out a small metal key from his pocket, "What gave you away was how friendly you were the last few nights. I could tell you were trying to save your energy," He undid the handcuffs, immediately catching his wrists after and twisting him onto his back, "I saw that broken totem earlier. I figured you were going to use it to kill me but when I saw the soap on the lock, I knew you must've used it to break out," When Arthur began struggling wildly, Eames grabbed his head and forced his face flat into the blanket, suffocating him. Arthur thrashed around weakly, trying to breathe. Only when his struggling began to weaken did Eames release. He cuffed his hands behind his back shortly after, "See, Arthur?" Eames said, laying flat against him on the bed, "You could've took a knife and killed me when you escaped this room but you didn't. You love me. You need me,"

Arthur spat into Eames's face as he twisted himself around. He had nothing else to lose; there was no reason to play nice anymore, "I will never love you," He growled, "I love Eames. The real Eames, not you! You're nothing but a forgery gone wrong!" The pressure from his back removed itself. The ominous feeling creeping up on him never left, "Eames?" Arthur murmured, his voice trembling.

A belt was wound around his neck, Eames's belt, and jerked backwards, choking him. Arthur struggled violently on his stomach, unable to spit out a single sound as he belt choked him hard. Eames's knee was on his back, pinning him to the bed and nearly snapping his spine. Arthur's vision was beginning to spin, his throat felt like it was being crushed slowly and his lungs were burning hard and threatening to burst. When he was about to lose consciousness, Eames released the belt, letting Arthur breathe but only barely before he tore off Arthur's dress shirt and whipped his bareback hard.

"Ah!" Arthur cried out, flopping around on the bed like a fish as the belt whipped at his flesh relentlessly, "Stop! Stop!" He screamed over and over. On the contrary, the lashes came hard and faster. When his back was an exploding mass of pain and his blood began dripping onto the sheets, Arthur lost himself in hysteria, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," He mumbled fast. He howled in pain as the belt came down against the backs of his knees and then his thighs, calves, everywhere.

The sliver of light under the door was the only thing Arthur could keep his eyes on. By the time Eames was satisfied, the sliver was golden with daybreak's glow. Lashes were littered all over his back, his bound arms, his hands, his buttocks, the back of his legs, everywhere. Arthur lay in bed, lungs exhausted from screaming and mouth dry from pleading. He merely gritted his teeth and trembled violently, twitching from the mere thought of the belt which Eames had now tossed onto the floor.

"Arthur, beloved," Arthur twitched as if Eames had screamed the words at him, "Do you love me?"

He was in too much pain to resist, "Yes," He choked out, biting into the mattress to suppress a sob. Eames grabbed his throbbing arm and pushed him over to the front of the bed, laying his head down on the pillow so his tortured back made no contact to the bed. He felt Eames curl around him, wrapping his strong arms around his body lovingly which made him shudder from the stinging pain. Anytime Arthur dipped into rest, a tremor of pain would always wake him.

The next morning, or whenever Arthur had the energy to stay awake. Arthur sat up slowly, making sure not to put any pressure on his wounds. He took deep, heaving breaths, trying to calm himself from what had just happened last night. The origami totem was gone and Eames would never again risk giving Arthur his means of escape.

His body jolted as the door swung open. Eames held a tray with sizzling breakfast foods that would have made Arthur's mouth salivate had it not been completely dried due to last night's activities, "Good morning beloved, I made breakfast for you,"

Breakfast in bed. The gesture would've been affectionate had the situation been different. Instead, Arthur merely screamed hoarsely and buried his face into his pillow. Will this nightmare ever end?

With his wrists bound behind his back, Arthur became completely dependent on Eames. The most he could do was use the toilet or douse himself with water from the shower. He needed Eames hands to do everything else: scrub his hair, scrub his body, shave his face, feed him, dress him. When Eames left on a job, he always left behind soft foods and soups which Arthur lapped at with his tongue like a dog in order to eat. Bathing was impossible with his bound hands. He doused himself with water and dried himself by rolling onto a towel he laid out on the bed. At the end of every day, Arthur lay on the bed face down, back still throbbing, and prayed for some miracle to save him.

His body was getting weaker. No matter how much Arthur wanted to rebel, wanted to kick Eames right in the genitals anytime he laid his hands on him, his body resisted. Even the mere thought of rebellion sent the painful memory of endless lashes through the frayed nerves on his back. Still, if his body could not revolt, Arthur would use his voice to.

Arthur was harsh with all his responses. He always matched Eames in terms of eloquence in speech, matching Bane would be no problem. Even if it led to a beating or harsh sex, Arthur stopped caring. He was losing his mind. He'd rather have it beaten out of him than have it slowly slip away. Just as Eames knew all his hotspots, Arthur knew exactly how to press all his buttons. He'd start off with talking about Neil and how Neil would never love the man he became. He'd then talk about Adrian, saying how much better he felt in bed. He wouldn't talk of Ariadne despite how sore a topic she must've been for Eames. The last thing he wanted to do was have Eames take out his anger on her. He'd finally push Eames over the edge with 'Tommy' and how Bane was a mere shell of what Tommy used to be. Arthur made it clear to him that he'd never belong to Bane. Even if he brainwashed him and claimed every part of his body, there are pieces of Arthur that will remain safely guarded by others.

After a week of heartbreak and ruthlessness, Eames returned from a job with a leather gag, gagging Arthur and ending his tirade of harsh words. The gag only came off whenever Eames fed Arthur. He kept him gagged even when he went off on a job which meant Arthur could be unfed for days, sometimes an entire week. The holes in his gag provided enough passage for water to flow through but that was all Arthur had to consume for those days.

By the time Eames returned, Arthur was too weak to fight, too weak to talk with the gag off. For the night Eames returns from a job, he had successfully robbed Arthur the ability to resist him at all. Duly noted, Arthur promised to compensate for this, spitting harsher and harsher words whenever he had the energy to before the gag came on again. It only became harder and harder to keep his promises to himself.

When a heavy storm had overtaken the island, Eames was forced to cancel all of his clients for the week. For almost entire days, he spent his time in Arthur's room. His favourite position was sitting on the bed with Arthur laying on his chest, situated between his legs. From that position, he'd do everything with him. He'd trace his fingers over Arthur's body, massaging his sore muscles, grinning whenever Arthur would squeal beneath his gag.

"Would you like to speak?" Eames asked, stroking his face gently.

Arthur, too weak to think of spiteful comments, nodded anyway. The gag left an unappetizing taste of leather in his mouth. Eames removed the gag and set it aside, using one hand to massage his lips and moisten his tongue.

"Say something to me," Eames commanded, wrapping both arms around Arthur's waist, "Beloved, what do you want?"

He wasn't going to submit. He'd never submit. Even if it made life easier, it wasn't worth it.

"Please let me go," Arthur pleaded weakly, "I want to leave. Please, please," He continued babbling on weakly, stray tears falling from his eyes as he did.

Eames laid him down on the bed, stroking his face gently like a cat, "So you're still resisting me. Commendable, you've endured for sixth months. Are you aware of that?" Arthur shook his head. He barely knew the time of day, "So alike to Mr. Eames, I resent that," He reached down, stroking Arthur's cock absently, listening to him cry out, "I am sorry it had to come down to this,"

Eames left him alone for the remainder of the week, dropping off containers of food whenever he slept. The gag remained on the bed stand till Arthur spotted it and kicked it into the corner.

"Did you get all the details you needed about Fischer's inception from his memories?"

"More than enough, it'll suffice as payment,"

"Very well, Barsad, then shall we begin?"

"Of course but I am a bit unsure. They used three levels. The sedation prepared will only be enough to generate two levels,"

"Do not worry. Two levels with suffice as long as we plant the right ideas in the right place,"

"As you wish, you're the expert here. Don't forget my twenty thousand,"

"At the end of each day, I guarantee,"

---

"Eames!" Arthur shouted, slamming down on the gas as a gunman pointed his submachine gun into the car. Like a knight in shining armor, Eames leapt up from his seat and shot the gunman at point blank range. Arthur sped away fast, almost crashing into a bus in front of them, "Are you alright?" Arthur shouted, voice hoarse, too hoarse.

"I'm fine. Fischer's fine too, unless he gets carsick," Relief struck Arthur like a cool breeze. For a second, he thought he would have been lost in limbo due to a critical research error on his part.

...which made it all the stranger when Cobb, shoving Eames against the car, revealed for the first time that they had been heavily sedated. Everyone looked surprised, baffled, but Arthur knew perfectly well what was going on. A command from Cobb distracted him. He tossed his point man a baklava and the two went to shake up Fischer.

With projections closing in and limbo dangling beneath them, Arthur had to make quick work of the armed projections closing in on the warehouse. With his assault rifle, Arthur sniped at the shooter on the roof. Unfortunately, the shooter was equally as skilled at taking cover and timing his shots to avoid Arthur's.

"You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger," Eames's sultry voice distracted him, as it always did, "Beloved,"

"Beloved?" Arthur said. The pet name clashed with his expectation. At close inspection, Ariadne who was frazzled but still stable looked far more nervous than she should have been. Cobb looked angrier, like he was clearly unhappy with someone. He had only seen those expressions in one context in his life: When they had to deal with Bane.

The totem in his pocket, the weight of the die felt right. That was wrong. It shouldn't feel right at all. They were in Yusuf's dreamscape. Arthur took the gun from Cobb's belt and shot himself.

---

"Mr. Riordan, are you ready?" A bearded man said to him. Arthur had never met this man before but he'd heard from reports that he was an excellent extractor. The man sat reclined in a chair beside him, IV already in place.

"Right," Arthur said, "Eames? Are you ready?"

Eames smiled to him playfully, "Peachy,"

"Ariadne?" Arthur looked to their architect. That same anxious expression was on her again. He worked with Ariadne the closest during the inception job. He memorized all her tiny habits: a shy smile when starting the PASIV, a confident nod when she was asked to confirm something. This anxious, frightened Ariadne was not natural.

"I'm ready," She replied, placing her totem on the desk beside her for each reach.

"Shall we then, darling?" Eames said, reaching a hand over to start the PASIV.

"Not yet," Arthur said, reaching for his totem in his pocket. The weight was right; the number he rolled was right; then why did everything feel so wrong? He glanced over to Ariadne's token. He hadn't touched it before but he had seen her use it after going under. It was a bishop chess piece that wouldn't roll when it was tipped over. He had seen the function, Ariadne had seen it, but he doubted anyone else had.

Arthur tore the IV from his arm, reached over, and knocked over the bishop. His eyes followed it as it fell onto the table and rolled onto the ground. He glared at Eames, kicking himself off the lawn chair, reaching for a gun, and shooting himself in the head.

---

"You two-faced slag!" Adrian struck Arthur across the face, knocking him into the kitchen counter. Fine china was crushed beneath Arthur's weight. The shards pierced his skin and made him cry out.

Arthur held himself up on his elbows, pushing away from the counter, "It was a mistake. I'm sorry," He pleaded. Adrian grabbed a handful of his hair and forced him down, pressing his face into a shard of porcelain. He bit down on his lip, swallowing a cry when Adrian pressed his cheek further into a shard with a hand over his temple.

"I turn my back on your for one second and you're out fucking every man in the neighbourhood who looks at you," Adrian hissed, "If you weren't such a good fuck and pretty face, I would've thrown you out years ago,"

There was a loud pounding at the door, "Adrian, open up!" It was Eames's voice, loud and angry, "You bastard, you better not have hurt him!"

Adrian scoffed, dragging Arthur off the counter by his hair. The point man struggled, gripping at Adrian's hands as it pried locks of hair from his head, "Eames? You're fucking that worthless bastard? Pathetic,"

Eames, Eames, Eames...

"You never call him Eames," Arthur murmured. Adrian was a man who preferred a first-name basis. He felt that it helped promote kinship amongst the team as opposed to using formal last names. It didn't take long for Arthur to find a gun and shoot himself.

---

Eric couldn't control his tears as he stood before Brian Lackey's tombstone. His casket was being lowered in slowly. Neil kept his eyes glued to it, unable to pry away. If things were just a little different, it could have been him in there. He could barely imagine the pain of having your innocence torn away in seconds by mere words. It took him a year for the memories to finally take control of him.

Rain fell upon the cemetery. Wendy wrapped her arms around Eric and cradled him, telling him that everything will be alright. It wasn't going to be alright. Neil wasn't going to be alright, ever. He wanted arms around him, protecting him. He knew in seconds, he would crumble and join the fallen angel in his grave.

"Neil?" Tommy's voice cut through the harsh rain. Tommy was dressed only in a grey hooded sweater and jeans. Certainly he was not here for the funeral, "Oh my god, I found you," He said, cutting through the people, "I checked every house looking for you. How have you been?"

At the sight of his true love, Neil burst into tears and covered his face. Wendy looked on, concerned, but already caring for a sorrowful friend, "I can't do this," Neil cried, thinking about Brian curled up on the couch weeping into his lap.

"Neil..." Tommy muttered, wrapping his arms around the trembling man, shielding him from the rain, "Neil, I'll always be here for you. I promise," Neil hugged him tighter and tighter, unable to get enough of Tommy's comforting warmth.

In the midst of the kind embrace, Tommy nudged Neil's shoulder and directed him to Eric, "He's burying something in the grave," He watched at Eric removed his class ring and placed it on top of the casket, wiping away his tears and whispering his final goodbyes to his friend, "You want to put anything in?"

Neil couldn't think of anything. He wanted to put his most treasured keepsake into the grave to show Brian how much he meant to him despite knowing him for barely a year. He reached into his shirt, taking off the dog tag engraved with 'Tommy Conlon'. Tommy smiled sadly, holding Neil close as he played with the dog tag in his hand.

"Is that what means the most to you?" Tommy said, "I'm flattered,"

"Of course," Neil whispered. He held the dog tag above the grave, about to drop it onto the casket. He stopped when he eyed the class ring again. His eyes darted to Eric's hand with completely bare fingers. His eyes returned to the class ring before scanning the crowd for familiar faces.

Neil retracted his arm, holding the dog tag close to his chest. Tommy looked to him, "Neil? What's the matter?"

"Where's Hal?" He said. Eric met Hal during the year Brian still lived. Three months into their relationship, they swapped class rings.

It was harder this time but Arthur eventually figured out a way to die by throwing himself in front of a truck.

---

"Darling," Eames cooed playfully into Arthur's ear, "Time to wake up, sleepyhead," He slipped back under the sheets, nipping at Arthur's skin playfully.

Arthur chuckled, rolling over to smack Eames gently over the head, "Stop that. It tickles," A goofy smile was on his face as Eames stood, stretching as he fetched his pants from the floor.

"What's the plan for today, love?" Eames asked, fixing the drawstring of his pajama pants.

Arthur reached for his blackberry on the desk, "Breakfast at 8:00 AM, and then a play at 10," He looked to the clock, "Maybe we could skip the breakfast, I'm not hungry,"

"Nonsense," Eames said in the sexiest voice he could make, "You're always hungry," He placed a finger to Arthur's lips, smiling when the point man's tongue darted out and suckled on it. He leaned in and kissed Arthur passionately, "Arthur, do you love me?"

Arthur didn't respond, too busy reciprocating the kiss and leaving butterfly kisses all over his face and neck. Butterfly kisses... Arthur's hand reached down to trace Eames's jaw, pressing into the butterfly tattoo there. No, this was gone. He pulled away from Eames suddenly, observing the room they were in. He assumed it was some hotel but at closer inspection, he realized it was Tommy's old apartment only cleaner and brighter. The photo of his comrade Manny was still on the bedstead. No, Tommy sold the apartment. He left it to go to train for Sparta. Had Eames restored the apartment?

No, this is my most secure room. The place where I felt most safe...

Arthur scrambled away from Eames, covering himself with the blanket.

"Darling?"

"Don't darling me!" Arthur barked, backing away from Eames, "You, you're trying to incept an idea," He almost fell for it. He almost fell back in love with 'Eames'. Without a gun on hand, Arthur threw himself out the window, plummeting to the ground head first.

---

Arthur gasped as he awoke, ripping the IV from his arm, "Arthur?" Ariadne said, taking his arm, "Are you alright? What happened?" Arthur scanned his surroundings, watching as Yusuf examined Eames intently while Cobb stood by the side, "Did you find Eames?" She had bandages on her face with old wounds visible beneath her collar.

That was right. He was trying to find Eames, trying to save him. Their first extraction was a completely failure. They ended up losing Adrian in the process. This time, they tried it again but with Cobb as the head and in a public building so there'd be no where to escape to. Arthur couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't had Cobb help in the first place.

"I think I found him," Arthur said, "I panicked and I killed myself,"

"Is there a way we can check that he's the real Eames?" Cobb asked, arms still folded, "Any information that only the real Eames would know?"

Arthur concentrated, trying to remember what Yusuf had told him earlier, "Bane is unaware of any memories that happened after Eames sealed him away. He's also unaware of any time Eames was conscious, just as how Eames was unaware of whatever Bane did when Bane had taken over,"

"Do you remember anything?"

Arthur pondered, thinking about something specific enough for Eames to remember, "During the job with the double extraction, the one with Mal, you, and Adrian, I was the one who signed Eames onto the project."

"We can roll with that," Cobb replied, "Yusuf?"

"I think he's waking," Yusuf said, securing the padded cuffs around his wrists, "Eames?"

The forger groaned, opening his eyes slowly, "Is that you, Yusuf?" He mumbled, looking around the room at everyone around him, "What's going on?"

Yusuf knelt in front of him, talking slowly so Eames could catch up, "Eames, during the extraction mission with Cobb, Mal, and Adrian, who was the one who signed you onto the project?"

Eames let out a short chuckle, keeping his eyes closed, "Arthur, darling, of course. He couldn't resist being away from me," Everyone gasped. This had to be their Eames.

Arthur moved to embrace him, rushing forward only to be stopped by Cobb. Ariadne and Yusuf were taking off the cuffs, nearly in tears of happiness. Eames leaned forward, embracing Ariadne lovingly and patting Yusuf on the back like a long lost brother.

"Cobb?" Arthur said.

"That's not who I am at all, is it," Cobb's voice was a whisper, his face was completely stoic. Cobb was completely serious, "My name is Mr. Charles,"

Arthur blinked, watching him intently, "You're the head of my subconscious security," He quoted Cobb back when the extractor had first introduced this gambit to him during the Stein job.

"Someone is accessing your mind right now. You need to wake up," Cobb withdrew his totem from his coat and spun it on the desk beside them. It didn't stop spinning. He took out a gun next, shooting Arthur in the head.

---

Arthur gasped as he awoke, body soaked in a cold sweat. His forearms were tied face up on the handles of the leather chair he sat upon. He was wearing a bathrobe, covering his naked body. He thrashed wildly, trying to free himself. The IV needle dug painfully into his arm as if it had been applied several times.

Several times. The memories came back quickly. He had sat here for hours as Eames continuously tried prying into his mind with false scenarios, "Stop it," He gasped, "Stop! Stop! I can't take it anymore! Stop!"

"Barsad, that is enough for today. He'll be mentally exhausted if we continue with anymore attempts," Eames said as he removed the IV from his arm.

"He's very good at defending his subconscious," The bearded man beside Eames replied as he took the IV out from Arthur's arm, "Shall I come back tomorrow? I can bring a stronger sedative if need be,"

"That'd be great. Thanks," Eames said as Barsad left the room and eventually the island, "Arthur, beloved, you've got an extraordinary mind," He reached down and caressed his sweat soaked face, "Why don't I wash you off now?" He untied Arthur who couldn't stop trembling from the mental torture they had put him through.

Arthur knew that wasn't the worst of it. They weren't trying to brainwash him. They were trying to pull off an inception. As Eames scrubbed his hair clean, Arthur dug deep into his mind and tried to recall his dreams. Tommy's apartment, Brian's grave, they were using his most secure memories against him. Over and over again, his immaculate ability to spot details saved him from falling into their tricks. It was only near the end when his mind was too tired to concentrate did a secondary protection kick in. 'Mr. Charles', who knew a gambit could translate itself into security?

The next day, after a breakfast of hash browns, eggs, and bacon courtesy of Barsad, the trials began again. Revising their previous strategy, they decided to use horror imagery this time to shock Arthur into mental submission in the first level. By the time he was placed in the second level, Arthur was already mentally broken from the terror of the first. He had no eye for detail, even when he accidentally knocked over Ariadne's totem and it rolled away into an sewer grate.

However, 'Mr. Charles' returned. Cobb, in the middle of issuing commands to Arthur, held out his palm and revealed a permanently spinning top, "Remember where you are," Arthur took the top from his hand and shot himself in the head, bringing the spinning top with him into the first level.

Strategies were changing fast. During a failed job on the CEO of Symbiotic-Technologies, Arthur was quickly packing away his equipment. He had worked solo with Eames before but he had never once failed so spectacularly quickly. Security was coming up fast; they had to leave now. A gunshot rang out, Eames tackled Arthur down but the bullet still managed to pierce his shoulder.

"Darling," Eames shouted, rushing to him and lifting him by his good arm, "Shit, we have to leave now," He dragged the wounded point man through the snow, seating him onto a snowmobile before climbing in front of him, "Hang on," He said, worried, as he started the snowmobile and drove fast, "There's a hospital up in these parts. I'll bring you there,"

The wound in his shoulder was throbbing with excess pain. Arthur could barely concentrate on the floor let alone Eames's words. By the time the snowmobile stopped, Arthur was only just conscious. Eames lifted Arthur into his arms and carried him into the fortress-like hospital.

Cobb greeted them, "Come on, this way!" He shouted, running deeper into the hospital as the two followed.

"Eames," Arthur whispered, clinging to him with his good arm.

"I'm here for you, always here," Had Arthur been able to concentrate, he would've have noticed that this room was another exact replica of the fortress used in Robert Fischer's inception. He carried the wounded point man towards the giant safe, "Here, this is where the beds are," Eames said, opening the safe with a pass code, "525, correct?" Eames said to Arthur who only mumbled weakly in reply.

Before the safe could open, an assailant slid down from the air vent and shot Eames in the back, knocking him out. Arthur gasped, turning to see the assailant and drawing his gun. A head of wild, red hair distracted him, "Mal?"

Cobb had his gun drawn, ready to shoot her down. He'd never shoot her, not even when it meant everything to. Arthur had his gun up already, shooting down 'Cobb'. The extractor fell, flickering back into Barsad's image as he did. Mal turned to Arthur, coy smile on her face.

"Mrs. Charles, I presume?" Arthur said, the pain in his shoulder subsiding. He raised the gun to his temple and shot himself once more.

"Hampering his concentration is not working," The voice sounded garbled, as if Arthur was listening to him through a helmet of jelly, "His secondary security kicks in."

"Isolate him, prevent him from meeting 'Mr. Charles',"

"Dangerous-"

"-worth the-too risky-job done,"

"the-lid-air-"

A ringtone cut through the garbled dialogue, startling Arthur but still not enough to shake him free of the drug-induced haze.

"Give me a second," Footsteps left the room, answering the phone from outside.

The forger has a phone on him

If he'd forget everything else that happened this day, then so be it but he had to keep that one fact engraved in him. The darkness returned to him shortly after, throwing his life into insanity once again.

The day ended unceremoniously. Arthur sat, bound to the chair, panting and sobbing as Barsad packed up the PASIV. When Eames's hand came down to comfort him, Arthur lashed out, biting at his fingers just to prove to him that he still resisted him and that his attempts were futile. Eames retracted, wrapping his fingers in a cloth before smacking Arthur across the face.

Barsad watched from afar, obviously disturbed but paid far too much to back away, "Eames," He said, standing with the PASIV tucked away in a suitcase, "I'm having reservations about how you are treating him,"

"This is not of your concern," Eames replied, "Everything to do with Arthur belongs only to me,"

Arthur locked eyes with Barsad, pleading with him. The mercenary forger , obviously moved in some way, pulled his gaze off him, saluting Eames before leaving the room. The point man looked fearfully up at Eames, squealing loudly as the leather gag was fastened over his mouth again, punishment for biting his master's hand.

At the core of it all, Arthur could only think about how inhumane inception was. He couldn't help but think if Fischer's life truly had gotten better or if he'd ended up crashing and burning after dissolving his father's company. Inception had the ability to take away one's free will without them even know. He swore to himself never to try it again, even if it was for the better of their client.

For the entire night, Eames left Arthur bound in the chair waiting for Barsad to return. In the morning, Eames went to prepare breakfast for all three of them. Barsad entered Arthur's room alone, preparing the PASIV.

A weak, muffled groan came from Arthur's lips. Barsad looked to him, staring into the pained, pleading eyes. He could tell Arthur was far too weak to escape.

"If I unbind you, will you stay still when we prepare the PASIV?" Arthur nodded weakly. There was no point in running, Arthur knew that already. For today, Barsad released his bonds and removed the gag from him. He took Arthur from the seat, laying him onto the bed gently.

"Thank you," Arthur sighed, reclining in the bed and stretching weakly.

The forger has a phone on him

His eyes shot open, looking down to Barsad's pocket to see the outline of a phone just against his outer thigh. His only chance of escape was a mere arm's reach away. He couldn't though, not while Eames and Barsad were awake. He lifted his arm allowing Barsad to insert the needle and seal it in place. He had to work fast despite the exhaustion gnawing at his limbs. The moment Barsad turned away to prep the machine, Arthur grabbed the needle from his arm and jerked forward just enough so the tip no longer rested inside his flesh.

Eames entered shortly after, clearly disgruntled at how Barsad had untied Arthur. No one should give him relief but me. He kept his mouth shut though. Barsad was necessary for his mission, "Breakfast, beloved," He said, settling one tray in front of Barsad and the other in front of Arthur. Arthur almost laughed at the sight of Barsad nearly choking on the oatmeal slop in his bowl.

As soon as breakfast was done, Eames lay down on the bed beside Arthur and secured an IV to his arm, "Barsad, ready,"

"Very well," The forger-extractor said, "We run with the Slate tactic," Arthur had no idea what he meant. He didn't really care. As soon as the forger-extractor depressed the button, Eames and Barsad were asleep leaving Arthur completely awake.

It wouldn't be long before Eames figured it out, noticing the lack of projections around them. Arthur rushed over to Barsad, digging his fingers into his pockets and withdrawing the phone. He considered calling Cobb, telling him what had happened but he couldn't risk Eames waking up before the call could even get through. He sent him a text message in case " Help me -A". As soon as he sent the message, he slipped the phone back into Barsad's pocket.

When he heard the two men stir, Arthur played at tampering with the PASIV. Eames grabbed him and tackled him to the floor, pinning him with his bulk, "Can't breathe," Arthur gasped out, scratching at the carpet beneath him.

"Smart little minx," Eames hissed into Arthur's ear as he further pressed him into the carpet, "Barsad, you're free for the day. I must punish my misbehaving lover,"

Barsad shrugged, packing up his PASIV, "As long as I get my money," His eyes locked with Arthur's once more. Barsad's eyes were cold, calculated, but Arthur could tell that Barsad hadn't accidentally slipped up. Some part of him pitied him, just enough to let him attempt an escape. As soon as Barsad's gaze left, as soon as Arthur heard the forger-extractor exit the cottage, all security dissipated. He looked to Eames, terrifying and menacing, and awaited his punishment. It didn't surprise him that a portion of his mind was praying to god that he'd survive this day.

He had no time to plead, beg, or even spit at Eames. A blindfold was pulled over his eyes, his wrists were handcuffed together, and he was dangled in the shower stall, arms twisted and bound painful around the shower head.

"Beloved, know that his hurts me more than it hurts you," Eames cooed into his ear, stroking his chest.

"Fuck you," Arthur's voice was not as threatening as he had hoped it to be, "You get off on this!" The gag came over his mouth, restraining his ability to speak again.

"If you just accepted my love and gave in, this would be a lot easier for you," Eames said, whispering into his ear before pulling away and starting the shower.

Ice cold water doused Arthur so suddenly that he screamed into the gag. He struggled hard but only managed to flail around from he was hung. The water was brutally cold and felt like icy knives carving into his skin. It only took him mere minutes later before his whole body began shivering uncontrollably. His teeth chattered against the gag, his body became numb fast but he could feel harsh tremors riveting through his body like a glacial earthquake.

By the time Eames removed him from the shower stall, his body was shivering so hard that he couldn't even stand. He crumpled into Eames's embrace. The man's body heat felt like a furnace pressed to his skin. He tried to claw his Eames's shirt to secure his grip. His trembling hands merely twitched at an attempt to clench his fingers. The blindfold was heavy with water, stinging his eyes painfully with its icy touch.

Eames chuckled cruelly as he dragged Arthur out from the bathroom. He tossed him onto the bed, loosening the blindfold so he could stare into his fear-filled eyes, "Learned your lesson, beloved?"Arthur couldn't even nod. A spasm came whenever he tried to move his head followed by numb pain and endless shivers, "I believe you," He said, stroking Arthur's face before handcuffing one wrist to a bedpost.

Arthur screamed through the gag again as Eames began cuffing his limbs to the bedposts till he lay on the bed spread eagle. His body still trembled violently but now the cuffs kept him relatively restrained.

No, no, no, no, Arthur murmured in his mind as Eames took the belt off his pants. He screamed into the gag, Eames! Eames! No one was going to protect him now. He froze when Eames's hand touched his stomach and traced upwards to his chest, the touch was painful despite the warmth it gave him.

"This is a lesson, not punishment,"

"What the fuck did you do to him?" Arthur woke to this familiar voice. It was Barsad's despite the uncharacteristic surprised tone.

"He won't try to escape again. Now, is the PASIV ready to go?"

"You did this to him? Can he even move anymore?" Arthur felt a warm hand at his wrist, feeling it with his fingers, "His heartbeat is barely there. Are you sure he's stable enough to go under?"

"He'll be fine. All wounds are merely surface wounds. The rest of his body is intact,"

"This whip lashes look fairly deep, he might have a few fractured ribs as well," Hands prodded at his swollen wrist. Arthur let out a muffled, raspy grunt at the touch. His wrist was broken, definitely. The lashes on his body were awful, Arthur could tell, but the worst was done to his face. A thick lash from his cheek to his temple had knocked him unconscious during the torture and now throbbed painfully.

"Will those injuries pose a problem?"

"No, but they're disconcerting," A shot of pain came through his arm as the IV was inserted into the torn tissue, "Are you ready, Eames?"

"Ready,"

"Freeze! Get down on the fucking ground!"

"Arthur? Oh my god, Arthur!"

"Get him to the boat immediately. He needs medical attention now!"

"Bane, you bastard!"

"Ariadne? Call Saito. He'll get us to a secure hospital. Restrain him! He's not getting away,"

"Arthur, you're safe now. You're with us,"

"Arthur..."

"Arthur!" Ariadne's voice cut through the darkness. Arthur was welcomed by the sight of a pristine hospital room with Ariadne sitting by his bed, "Cobb, he's awake!" There was a shuffle outside but Cobb had yet to enter, "Arthur, can you speak? Do you know where you are right now?" Arthur shook his head weakly to the second question, "You're at Gotham General Hospital. You've got some really bad wounds on you and there's an excess of somnacin inside your body. They've been flushing it out slowly,"

"Eames?" Arthur whispered, searching the room.

Ariadne was quiet, looking away, "Bane's in the other room. We have him restrained,"

That was right. Bane had taken over Eames's body. Through his months of hell as the madman's pet, he had completely forgotten about this fact. Eames was still trapped inside his mind. The thought of it made him cry. He nearly lost his mind and Eames was still out of his reach.

"Arthur," Ariadne said, wrapping his arms around him gently as he cried. From her pocket, she withdrew a bundle of cloth, "Here, we found your totem in the cottage," The totem was useless by now but the sentiment behind it remained. He took the totem into his hands, rolling it in his palm.

Arthur pulled away weakly, "Am I still dreaming?" He whispered. Bane had repeatedly used this gambit against him, tricking him into thinking he was rescued and that his Eames had returned.

"You're awake,"

"How do I tell?" Arthur gasped, dropping his totem and squirming back in his bed, "I can't tell. I don't know anymore," He tried to concentrate on Ariadne and map the inconsistencies but everything was perfectly in order. Had Bane's forgeries gotten better?

"Arthur, you're awake," Cobb's voice alerted him. The extractor stepped into the room. He was cleanly shaven but definitely looked more exhausted than he used to be.

"Mr. Charles," Arthur whispered, staring straight at Cobb. His gambit had became his totem in the dream world. He really had to thank Cobb for that when he woke up, "I'm dreaming, right?"

Cobb shook his head slowly, "No, Arthur. This is real. Its Dominic Cobb, remember?"

"Prove it," Arthur muttered, "Let me see your totem,"

Cobb withdrew the top from his pocket and spun it on a counter surface. No matter how hard Arthur concentrated, the top eventually fell over. Again and again, Cobb repeated the action till Arthur was completely sure that this was reality.

"Oh thank god," Arthur sighed, shutting his eyes and reclining in the back.

"You're safe now, we promise," Ariadne said.

Arthur looked to both of them, a tired smile on his face, "How did you find me?" He had expected weeks before his rescue. The wounds on his body told him that his rescue came the day after he had sent the text message.

Cobb lifted his phone, "You sent the message, remember?" Arthur nodded weakly, "We've been searching for you for months. Ariadne contacted me shortly after you had been kidnapped. Yusuf and I have been running around looking for sources. No luck at all, unfortunately, Bane covered his tracks well,"

"As soon as I got out of the hospital, I contacted a few extractors I knew," Ariadne explained, "One of them told me of this point man who was also searching for Eames. We collaborated with him to find you," She gestured to Cobb's phone, "When your text message came in, he helped us trace the number and location to find you."

"He?"

"Harold Chen," Cobb said, "Though, he preferred using his real name,"

"You're up?" The voice was smooth, friendly but unrecognizable. Arthur looked up from the bed to see an aged, gruff looking man with a head of wild black hair and frameless glasses. He would have been completely unfamiliar if he hadn't been carrying around his laptop with him. Arthur knew only one man who carried his laptop everywhere.

"Hal," Arthur said.

"Neil," Hal said, fixing his glasses, "Been a while,"

The wedding ring on his finger made Arthur smile, "Sorry I missed the wedding. I was on the run,"

"Fair enough," Hal replied, apathetic if not a bit bitter, "We can catch up later. They're clearing things out from the cabin and I'd like to take a look," He didn't bother with a goodbye; he left the room in a huff.

Ariadne and Cobb were a bit surprised at the clinical treatment of their relationship. Arthur leaned back in his bed, "He used to be friendlier. He's half the reason I got arrested and into the dream business." The other half was Tommy, of course.

"Mr. Riordan? You have a visitor. She says she came all the way from New York to see you," The nurse said.

"Wendy?" No, he couldn't let her see him now, not like this. She didn't want to worry her anymore than he already had, "Can you tell her I'm busy?"

Ariadne nodded, "I'll do it," She didn't back out of her chair. Instead, she grabbed the concealed wheels of the seat and rolled towards the door.

Arthur was shocked speechless. He hadn't noticed at all that Ariadne was on a wheelchair. This was his fault, completely his fault: Adrian dead and Ariadne wheelchair-bound, "Oh my god, Ariadne, I'm so sorry,"

The young architect looked over her shoulder and gave him a small smile, "It's alright," She wheeled out of the room, Arthur's eyes still glued on her.

"Don't blame yourself," Cobb said, patting his shoulder gently, "At least you let her know the risks," Cobb continued to pat his back soothingly as Arthur crumpled in on himself and sobbed dryly into one hand.

"Eames, where is Eames?"

"Secure, thanks to Saito," Cobb said, taking a seat on the desk beside the bed, "He's got a lot of money on his head right now. Saito paid a lot of money to get him a secure hospital and have him admitted anonymously." Cobb smoothed his hair back, "A lot of my old colleagues are trying to get their hands on him. Apparently-"

"He's been working as a hit man, specializing in assassinating dream workers," Arthur finished, "He told me all about it. Kept a box of their totems as souvenirs,"

Cobb groaned, shaking his head, "That sick bastard. Um, sorry,"

The two stewed in silence for a bit. Cobb played with his totem while Arthur stared at the ceiling blankly. He looked to Cobb, sadness in his eyes, "We're never going to save him, are we?"

Cobb looked to Arthur. Ariadne and Yusuf had filled him in on what had happened. A vicious split personality, omnipotent in the dreamscape, had trapped Eames in limbo and took over his entire life. Honestly, Cobb had no idea what to think.

"We never know,"

"Be honest," Arthur said, shutting his eyes, "He's shut us out from limbo. And even if we get there, we have no idea what's happened to Eames. By now, he could be exactly like Bane," He placed a hand to his eye, ignoring the stinging flesh on both surfaces, "Why didn't he tell me sooner? I could've helped him,"

"Maybe fighting against Bane in the dreamscape was the problem," Cobb said. Arthur immediately looked to him, "Maybe you should've fought him here, in reality, where you have the advantage," A spark of inspiration lit up in Arthur's eyes, "No, not until you're healthy,"

"Cobb, I can do it. Every second we spend up here, Eames is spending decades in limbo," Arthur pleaded, grabbing onto Cobb's arm despite the stinging wound on his palm, "Cobb, please,"

Cobb shook his head, "No. You're hurt, you've still got drugs swimming around in your system, and we don't know what damage Bane has done to your mind," Like a child, Arthur gave Cobb an innocent pout that made the extractor cringe, "Oh, god, stop that. You haven't done that in years," He still remember clearly his sad little pout when Mal was trying to convince him to make a simpler totem but Arthur was adamant in making a die.

"I've never been so desperate in years," Arthur replied, straightening his lip again before laying back in bed, "Fine, you're right. But as soon as I'm recovered, you bring me to Bane," Cobb pursed his lips, obviously reluctant, "Promise?" Cobb sighed heavily, smoothing back his hair and nodding, "Alright. I'll hold you to it,"

Ariadne wheeled again, "She left. She said she'll be staying in a motel around here,"

"Thanks Ariadne," Arthur said with a small smile, shutting his eyes.

"He needs his sleep," Cobb said, walking out and pushing Ariadne as he left. When the two were far away from Arthur's room, Cobb leaned down to her and whispered, "Keep an eye on him. I don't want him talking with Bane just yet."

"Fair enough, are we checking on Bane?" She asked. The alias Eames had dubbed his alter-ego was becoming more and more accustomed to their mouths.

"You want to?"

"I'd prefer to keep an eye on him,"

"Whatever you say, I'm going with you then," Cobb pushed her down the hall, wheeling her into the room just by the stairwell. He knocked on the door gently, "Nurse?" The nurse was out. Only Bane-in-Eames's skin was lying on the bed.

Bane looked up, his body and wrists held down with hospital restraints, "Ah, Cobb, Ariadne, what a pleasant surprise," His voice was snarky and sarcastic. He looked to Ariadne first, smirking with a laugh in his eye, "The young architect lives. I knew I should have been more thorough. And Mr. Dominic Cobb, you've foiled my plans in and out of the dream world. Congratulations, Mr. Charles,"

"Mr. Charles?" Cobb said, lifting a brow in query. He hadn't questioned Arthur's "Mr. Charles" outburst when he awakened. This was the ideal time to figure out exactly what had occurred.

"Did Arthur not tell you? Your little gambit became his secondary line of defense after I exhausted his mind. Something you're quite familiar with, right, Ariadne?" Bane smirked to the architect again, making Ariadne glare in return, "Mr. Charles, wandering in, reminding him that it was a dream before shooting him in the head. You made my job very, very difficult,"

Cobb snorted, "You're welcome,"

Bane threw his head back and laughed, loud, humourlessly, startling the two, "There were many hits on you, Dominic Cobb. If I had found you, I guarantee, I would have killed you first," He turned back to Ariadne, eyes wide and threatening, "And now that I know you're alive, I promise I will kill you. I'll take your head with me and your totem,"

"Shut your mouth!" Cobb hissed, reaching to grab Bane's collar only to be stopped by Ariadne.

"Cobb, he's provoking you," Ariadne said, stern-faced, "Bane," Bane cocked one-eyebrow up, impressed by the seriousness in her voice, "We will find a way to save Eames and if we can't, we'll make sure Arthur stays out of your grasp forever. We'll trap you in a world completely beyond your control, all alone, our world. That's my promise to you," She gestured to Cobb, the extractor pushed her out as Bane watched on, smirking.

Ariadne's phone had begun to buzz, she withdrew it from her pocket, "Saito's men have cleared out the cottage. He says there are some records we might find interesting there,"

"Very well, visiting hour is almost up anyway,"

"Cobb, Saito bought out the hospital. Visiting hour is whenever we want it to be,"

"That man has way too much money,"

Cobb and Ariadne hadn't returned for the entire day. Arthur woke up alone in a dark room. The hospital had shut off all the lights for the night except for the hall guide lights. The nurse made hourly rounds, giving Arthur a one-hour interval to look for Bane's room. He slid off the bed slowly, careful not to press his wounds too hard against the floor. With weak grunts and twitches, Arthur fought through the lashes and stepped out of the room in a pair of sandals and a hospital gown. He figured he'd need at least half an hour to get to the other side of the hall where Bane's room was.

The sight of the light on and door shut at Bane's room made Arthur forget his pain and sprint. He tackled the door down, adrenaline masking his pain, and nearly slipped on the trinkets scattered all over the floor. No, not trinkets, totems.

"Eames?" Arthur called out instinctively.

The forger, face covered in bruises and lip split and bleeding, looked to Arthur with a smile, "Beloved, so good to see you,"

"Shut up!" Hal hissed, whipping him across the face again with his pistol.

Arthur rushed forward, grabbing Hal's gun arm and pulling back, "Hal, whoever paid you to do this, it's not worth it!" Cobb mentioned that Eames had plenty of hits on him. Hal had been nothing but aloof as well. Arthur should've called him out.

"No one's paying me anything!" Hal wrestled his arm away, pointing the pistol back at Bane. He reached into his trench coat, withdrawing a ring dangling from a chain necklace. The ring was so familiar. It was hollow; Arthur could see the inside of the metal through intricate carvings made upon them. The ring was notably small, far too small for him to wear now but definitely bigger than a child's ring. It seemed more fit for an age in-between, a teenage hand.

A class ring.

"No, no," Arthur gasped, eyes widening slowly.

"This bastard killed Eric," Hal said through gritted teeth, "Shot him dead, then took his totem," He dropped the class ring into Arthur's hand, letting him holding it close, "You don't even fucking remember, do you?"

Bane shrugged, "He was just another mark."

"Was it because of me?" Arthur choked out, grip tightening on the ring as he stumbled forward, "Because you didn't want to share me. Is that why you killed him?" He dropped over on the side of the bed, supporting himself on his arms while he glared intensely into Bane's eyes.

"No, I promise. It was nothing personal."

"Don't lie to me!" Arthur barked, still glaring.

"I didn't even know his real name was Eric. I was told to assassinate Orlando Lackey."

Hal smacked him hard across the face again, this time dislocating something in his jaw, "Don't you dare say his name. You don't deserve to," He pressed the gun into Bane's mouth, shoving it past his torn lip.

"No!" Arthur shouted, knocking the gun to the ground.

"Neil, what the hell!" Hal hissed, "He killed Eric! Don't tell me you have feelings for this fucking bastard?"

"I love him, no," Arthur said, stuttering as he tried to explain himself, "I love Eames. And Eames is still in there. He's as much a victim in this as anyone," Hal moved to retrieve his gun. Arthur steadied him immediately, "Don't. Please don't."

Hal sighed, exasperated, as he pulled away and picked up his gun. He stood there for a second, contemplating. He could shoot Bane now. In Arthur's state, there's no way he'd be able to stop him. In the end, he stuffed the gun back into his coat and headed to the door. He kicked the fallen totems under the bed; he had knocked over the box when he rushed to Bane with his gun, "I'll walk you back,"

Arthur nodded, holding onto Hal's shoulder and shooting a quick glance to Bane. The man had fallen asleep. His face looked almost peaceful like Eames when he slept. If it wasn't for the heavy burn scars all over his neck and chest and battered face, he would be the perfect sight. Arthur tore away, walking back to his room.

"No nurses or security?" Hal said, looking around.

"Saito bought out the place," Arthur explained, limping back to his room, "So, was this why you were looking for Eames?"

Hal nodded, fixing his glasses, "We were just going out for dinner. Nothing special, some tiny little diner in Kansas. Shot rang out and that was it," His voice went quiet, "He was gone," Arthur shut his eyes, Eric Preston, his best friend, gone forever, "I saw that bastard's face. Just for a second," He let out a dry chuckle, "How could I forget it? Tommy Conlon, we went to jail for looking him up."

Arthur nodded, a sad smile on his face as he fought the urge to cry, "Yeah," He sobbed weakly, "Who knew we'd end up like this?" He took a turn into his room. Hal lowered him onto the bed slowly, pulling the blanket over him and handing him a tissue when he could no longer hold in his tears, "How did this happen?" His voice cracked, losing Arthur's firm tone and sliding into Neil's drawl.

Hal placed a hand on his shoulder, eyes shut. He took the class ring back from Arthur, putting the chain around his neck and tucking it back into his coat, "Who knows," He walked to the door, "And, Neil?" He said, "I've got a lot of work to do so I won't be back for a while. Tell Wendy I said hi,"

"Okay," Arthur said through his sniffles, wiping away his tears.

In the dark, lost in depression, Arthur could only use his thoughts to distraction. What if he never left Tommy back in New York? He would have never said anything to Brian Lackey and that poor soul could've continued living his life oblivious to the suffering he endured. He would have never met Hal, never would have needed to hack government records to find Tommy because his lover would be right beside him. Maybe, Tommy would have decided not to compete in Sparta. Maybe the two would have started a business together.

No, Sparta was inevitable. His brother-in-arms meant too much to him as did the security of his wife. Tommy would go to Sparta; Neil would follow. Wendy wouldn't have had to spend money for his tickets, maybe she could've used the money on a mini-fridge. Tommy would get arrested, that was beyond Neil's control. Neil would cry for an entire day, maybe bond with Tommy's family before leaving for Kansas. He'd go to boot camp after that, inspired by Tommy and finding no joy in anything else. Hal and Eric would get together and go on with their normal lives without government hacking and dream architecture.

This was a contradiction. Neil would never let Tommy go so easily. If Tommy was out of his life, he'd do anything in his power to find him. He loved him more than anything in the world. He'd find and persuade Hal to help him through Eric. They'd hack government records and get themselves arrested. Project SOMNACIN would have saved him just as Hal's computer prowess did for Hal. The two would become professional dream workers.

And the path would no longer diverge from reality. There were only two significant changes, Arthur noticed. Brian Lackey would still be alive but even so, it was only a matter of time before something cruelly jogged his memory. So in the end, the only guaranteed difference would have been his alias "Arthur" which he had picked as a tribute to Wendy's recommendation of English Mythology when he was in college.

It was destiny. Eames was destiny, a cruel, cruel destiny.

Dreaming was a rare commodity. Ever since Arthur began dream working, he had become unable to dream and relied solely on the PASIV to generate fantasies as he slept. Whether from some miracle or the abuse he had taken from Bane, Arthur found himself dreaming tonight. To no one's surprise, the first thing that appeared in his dream was darkness, nothing but darkness.

"Is anyone there?" Arthur called out, walking. His body was fully healed and refreshed.

"Darling," The voice was weak, distant. Arthur found himself running to it.

"Eames!" Arthur cried out. He saw someone huddled in a corner, sitting on a pile of poker chips. It had to be Eames. Arthur ran towards him, circling his arms around the body, "Oh god, Eames, I found you,"

The huddled form looked up. Eames looked so much older, so much weaker, "Darling," He whispered again, pressing his face into Arthur's neck, "You should have ran. You can't let Bane have you,"

"I don't care if he has me. If there's a chance that I could save you, I'd do it,"

"He'll hurt you,"

"I don't care!"

Eames stared, blankly, into Arthur's eyes.

"Arthur, darling, I love you so much,"

A shot of lightning came between them, blasting the two apart. The darkness burned away and Eames crumbled along with the darkness. A hand came around Arthur's arm, grabbing onto it firmly and hauling him up, "Eames!" He screamed, reaching down.

The sunlight broke through the gaps of the blinds and struck Arthur in the face. He gasped, waking from his dream. He reached for the desk beside him, searching for his totem only to remember that it had been horribly violated by Bane's hands and now rendered useless. He reached for the phone instead, calling Ariadne and Cobb.

The two entered together with Cobb pushing Ariadne's wheelchair. Both were evidently still tired, yawning and shutting their eyes occasionally when Arthur spoke, "I need to get into limbo,"

"Arthur, we went over this before. Not while you're unhealthy," Cobb said, yawning.

"I know, but we can start planning now. There's a lot to cover,"

Ariadne yawned, taking in a sip of the coffee she picked up from the hospital cafeteria, "Remind Saito to buy a better cafeteria,"

Arthur folded his arms, "This is serious."

"I know, I know," Ariadne sighed, "Arthur, don't you think Cobb and I have been trying to think of a plan for this? We've ran through more than enough scenarios. We even had Yusuf and Hal on board for a while. There's an underlying problem that can't be solved with dream gambits," Arthur watched her intently, "We have nothing to threaten him with. We tried sneaking around him, he figured it out and stopped us completely."

Cobb nodded in agreement, "We have nothing negotiable. Bane has no reason to listen to us."

"You do have something to negotiate with,"

"Arthur, you're not an object. We're not going to sell you to Bane in exchange for Eames," Cobb said, sitting onto the counter across from the bed, "Eames wouldn't want that,"

"I know that," Arthur snapped back, "Eames tried bargaining like that, look how that turned out for him," He sat up, straightening his hair, "I was thinking of something else. A 'despair' gambit, make him desperate enough to bargain with,"

"Like what he did to you?" Ariadne said, shaking her head, "You can't be serious."

"It's worth a shot,"

"At what cost? Your soul?" Ariadne said, cutting off Cobb before he could respond.

"My soul is worth Eames's life," Arthur replied firmly.

"That's probably what Eames said about you before he let Bane throw him into the pit,"

"He who fights monsters should see to it that he himself does not become a monster," Cobb said, almost embarrassed after the quote. He could practically feel Ariadne rolling her eyes, mouthing 'how pretentious', "You know Eames wouldn't want that either. None of us want you to lose yourself,"

Arthur snorted, slicking back his hair with his hand, "And if you gaze for long into an abyss," He could see the black hole in his mind. He could see Eames reaching for him, pleading, "No matter what I'll go through, it's nothing compared to what Eames is suffering right now," He looked to both of them, determined to stick to his plan, "I'm sorry but I have to go through with this."

"We're really not going to change your mind, are we?" Cobb asked. Arthur shook his head firmly, "Alright then. Count me in,"

"Even if I pretended to be angry, I don't think that will work," Ariadne said, folding her arms, "Fine, I'll help too,"

"Thank you,"

"Don't pretend, Arthur, you knew we'd cave in no matter what your decision was,"

With the door shut and padded so none of their planning escaped the room, the three dream workers began formulating their plan. Cobb stood at the front, directing the briefings as he usually did. Arthur remained in bed, occasionally leaning back when he accidentally rested on injured flesh. Ariadne kept track of notes, taking over Arthur's job.

"What's your idea?" Cobb said, "I get the despair gambit. I don't get how you'll make it happen,"

"We starve him from contact," Arthur said, "Yusuf said that Bane is an amplification of Tommy Conlon, Eames's previous identity. So his rage has become blood thirst, love has become obsession, etcetera," He recalled that night he woke up from bed with Eames sitting at the foot of the bed sobbing. He'd never seen Eames so weak; in his eyes, Eames would always be the invincible hero, "Eames, Tommy, whoever, he was always afraid of losing control of his life."

Ariadne nodded, jotting down the notes, "And you think this is the same for Bane?"

"No, this is definitely the same for Bane," Arthur said, "When he held me captive, he told me to conform and he grew angry if I rebelled. He wants control; he thrives on it. And that is what we use against him."

Cobb and Ariadne were visibly deterred by the idea. Arthur had planned to starve Bane's human interaction. Cobb and Ariadne would no longer visit. The nurses would not speak to him. He'd be given an IV to keep him alive but he'd remain bound to the bed for the entire day. Most importantly, Arthur would remain out of his life. His beacon of light would forever be hidden from him, leaving him to stew in his own darkness.

No one argued that Bane didn't deserve this. He'd done the most despicable acts possible and framed it all on an innocent man he held hostage in his mind. All Cobb and Ariadne were worried about was Arthur's state of mind. They couldn't help but notice a spark of joy in Arthur's eyes as he described the plan. He was enjoying this.

At the end of the day, they finalized their plan and filled Saito's nurses in. Cobb had left the room to fill in all the accomplices for their plan leaving Ariadne alone with Arthur. The light had returned to Arthur's eyes. Cool, confident Arthur had returned at a horrible cost.

"Arthur, don't lose yourself in this," Ariadne said quietly.

The point man nodded slowly, "I know,"

"Eames wouldn't want you to become Bane, even if you only take on a tiny part of him,"

He looked to her, packing away the notes he had made absently, "I'll be alright. I promise."

Day one commenced. Bane lay on the bed, still restrained. He noticed a catheter attached to him along with several other tubes possibly for feeding. He assumed they must've been attached while he had been asleep. He waited on his bed, waited for nurses to enter so he could charm them into favours. No one came. He could barely hear anyone outside his door. He shut his eyes, figuring he'd get some sleep if he'd be undisturbed. He woke up. It was night. No one had come. The room was completely static. There wasn't even a clock to tell him the time. Nothing moved except for the monster lying in the bed.

Bane found himself sleeping for the majority of his time. He had amused himself by heckling those who passed by but with the door firmly shut, he'd have to find a new way to amuse himself. Being bound firmly to a bed really restricted his creativity. When he could no longer sleep, Bane found himself counting the cracks in the ceiling. He counted two, with a possibly hairline fracture right at the corner. This was a very well maintained room. Had the window been closer, he would have counted the stars in the sky. He resorted to counting the leaves on the tree situated outside. He'd always lose track after one hundred and fifty eight.

It took him merely five days to figure out their plan. They were starving him mentally. It wasn't subtle at all but perhaps that's what they had wanted. Still, knowledge of their plan didn't make Bane feel any more potent. On the contrary, it made him feel worse to know of what they were planning and be unable to stop them. Quite like what he had done to Arthur in order to make him his. No doubt this was Arthur's plan, using the devil's tactics against the devil himself. Bane amused himself with that thought for several hours before finally growing bored of it. A small squirrel had made a nest just by his window. For the remainder of the week, he amused himself by cataloging the squirrel's daily life by the tree.

It took him another week before he began struggling at his bonds. The sound of footsteps and rustling outside began to make him restless. They were the only sounds left to him other than his own breathing. Bane would struggle against the medical restraints, straining against them till his wrists turned purple. With nothing else to distract himself with, he'd go on for hours testing his bonds.

It took him two weeks before he began talking. He shouted for nurses and doctors to come to his aid. He feigned pain and screamed as if he was being stabbed. No one came. He knew he became desperate when he began calling for Cobb and Ariadne. He knew he resigned to his fate when he began begging for Arthur's forgiveness. His pleas reached no one's ears.

It took him three weeks before he began talking to himself, talking to Eames. His entrapment only brought back distant memories of being locked away in Eames's mind. He told himself that it would suffice to use his memories of Arthur to amuse himself. He told himself that he had endured far longer in Eames's mind and could continue enduring. He couldn't help but feel that he was lying to himself.

He couldn't sleep anymore. He'd slept too much. His body felt limp against the bed and his wrists were numb from fighting against the restraints. He expected to feel unclean and oily but someone must have been coming into to clean him while he slept. Perhaps they even sedated him and unbounded him to sponge him off. His drip was getting awfully low, the nurse would come change it soon. Finally.

A young man came in dressed in scrubs. He had short, greasy hair that looked like it hadn't seen a good wash in days. The stubble on his chin was unevenly shaved, leaving heavy patches and bald areas in certain places. His eyes were small but fiercely blue, standing out against his tanned skin. Aside from Arthur, Bane had never been more eager to read the features of another human being. He had to savour the contact before another few weeks passed without interaction.

"Ah, finally, I was wondering where the staff had gone," Bane said, jerking at his bonds, "So, what's your name?" The man pointed to his name tag, "West Marley, intern, charming. Now, would you mind passing a message to Mr. Arthur Riordan? I know what he's trying to do. It's not going to work. All he's doing is proving how much he's learned from me. Tell him I'm proud of him, will you?"

The intern raised an eyebrow, slipping a new drip into a fresh needle, "Mr. Riordan discharged himself several weeks ago,"

Arthur left him here, all alone. He abandoned him, "No, no, no, no," Bane muttered quickly, "What of Cobb or Ariadne? That blonde and the brunette in the wheelchair," His voice was hoarse, almost angry but mostly desperate.

The intern shrugged, inserting the IV into his arm, "Haven't seen anyone like that."

"You're lying," The desperation was clear in his voice. This had to be another trick. Arthur wouldn't abandon him. He wouldn't abandon Eames. The genuine sincerity in the intern's words were painfully sharp, "Stop lying to me!" He barked, jerking all at once against his bonds, "Arthur's out there. Isn't he? He wouldn't leave! Bring him to me this instant!" He had to give the intern credit; the man did not look startled in the slightest.

His eyes caught another detail of the intern. His name tag, written right below it, was the department name: Violent Mental Disorder. His breathing accelerated; he was almost hyperventilating. Arthur had left him to the mercy of the hospital. He abandoned him, regardless of Eames.

When the intern left, Bane went from being void of thoughts to being overwhelmed by then. Each stage of his thoughts took up nearly nine days to fully develop to the point where Bane swore he could have written a book about them. His first stage: Denial.

He denied it all first. Arthur would not abandon Eames. Arthur would suffer a thousand deaths just to save him. A nagging voice inside him told him that Bane had really done nothing to prove that Eames still existed inside him. Arthur was running on hope. Bane had also left quite a reminder on what would happen to those who try to enter his guarded mind. There wouldn't be a team in the world who'd dare enter his mind after they hear what had happened to Arthur's team. Bane had spent all this time diminishing Arthur's hope, crafting him into his ideal projection of Arthur, he hadn't considered that Arthur would escape his grasp.

When he had identified his mistake and ran through it several times, Bane began combing through the flaws of his plan that had led him to this moment. He should've continued to feed Arthur hope about Eames to keep him obedient. Perhaps he should have been less harsh, slowly shaping him through pleasure as opposed to forcing him to conform through pain and leashing him down with hope. He was impatient, too impatient. Inception was a last resort; it was difficult to pull off and it demanded that a third party join. Had he known that he'd find a loyal mercenary as his second-in-command, he would have attempted sooner.

With the reflection came regret. It started off simple, like regretting to install a jammer to the cottage to avoid any sort of tracking. His regret began deconstructing his plans, his ideals, him. Had he treated Arthur well as opposed to terrorizing him, Arthur would not have let him go so easily. Had he never antagonized Eames, controlled his undying hatred for him, he could have shared his life. He could have shared Arthur's love. Now there was nothing left for him because he was selfish, because his hatred and rage was uncontrollable. Because he was Bane.

Arthur abandoned him, his one true love gone forever. He couldn't free himself. He was all alone confined in his little white room. There was nothing left for him. No one heard him when he screamed, all of his regrets catching up with him.

"I'm sorry Arthur," He shouted, "Beloved, come back, please," He cried out for hours till he even lost his voice. Now he truly had nothing left.

The team had let him stew with his sadness for a week, resisting the urge to rush in and save him as they watched from the camera. Ariadne left first, refusing to watch. Cobb turned away, shutting his eyes and trying to ignore the desperate pleas. Arthur's eyes never left the screen.

"I'm going to speak to him today," Arthur said, fixing the collar of his suit, "I probably won't be back for a long time," He said to Wendy who sat on the motel couch listening, "Cobb, did Yusuf send the sedatives from his lab?" Cobb lifted the case and nodded, "Good, I've got my PASIV hooked up to this." He reached for the case but Cobb jerked it away, "Cobb?"

He sighed, pressing the case into his hands, "Don't lose yourself in there."

Arthur nodded, "I know. I'll be careful," He looked to Ariadne who couldn't bear to look at him. He understood why; he had forced her to conform with his mental torture plan. Ariadne, still with her morality intact, couldn't stand to look at how far he'd fallen, "I promise I'll be fine,"

"Neil," Wendy's voice was soft and concerned. She stood, resting a hand on his suit, "If it really doesn't work," Arthur had only briefly ran over the plan to her. Dream crime was already something relatively unknown to Wendy. The idea of limbo and split personalities trapped with limbo was absolutely baffling, "Whatever you're doing, if it really doesn't work, please just give up. I don't want to see you hurt anymore."

Arthur nodded slowly, holding her hand close, "I will. This is the last time," He knew he wanted to keep trying till either he or Bane were dead. Just like Bane had done when Arthur refused to love him back. For his own sanity and for the safety of everyone else, Arthur complied to their wishes.

He passed Cobb, giving one friendly pat on the shoulder before walking to the motel door.

"Arthur," Ariadne called to him, "Good luck,"

He nodded in acknowledgement and exited the room.

Bane had his eyes shut tightly. He grew to accept the fact that he'd never leave this room. To the man who had control of the entire universe of the mind, this confinement and restraint tore away at his soul. He needed his freedom again; he needed his command over the world.

He needed Arthur. So very much.

He barely heard the door to his room open. The soft click was deliberate; someone was purposely trying to be quiet. Bane propped his head up, watching as Arthur entered the room sharp as ever in a black suit with a auburn tie. Despite how much it hurt, Bane had to resist the urge to lunge forward and plead for mercy. The sight of Arthur restored his hope and joy, making those agonizing weeks prior to this moment seem like nothing. Arthur returned; he must've always planned on returning.

"Beloved," Bane called out, his voice slightly hoarse from screaming to no one, "Pleasure seeing you. I always knew you'd come back. I trusted you," Arthur watched, face apathetic, briefcase in one hand, "Arthur, beloved, I love you. Please, take off my restraints so I can show you how much you mean to me. I'll treat you better, I promise."

The briefcase clicked open, Arthur reached in and tossed a stack of sheets onto Bane's lap. Straining from his restraints, Bane jerked himself forward and looked down at the sheets. He caught the title of the page but little else: Commitment forms to Arkham Asylum. Bane blanched as he read the sheets; Arthur caught it right away.

"Permanent commitment to an asylum, listed as violently aggressive and necessary solitary confinement. Immunity from the cops as well," Arthur said coldly, "You'll live out the rest of your life alone, tied down, patronized by doctors every hour of the day,"

"No way," Bane sighed in a breathless gasp, "No, you're bluffing. They won't take your word. They'll run their own tests and I can forge as sane a person as I need to get out of there,"

"I'm a point man. I'll find my resources. And a phone call to Saito had you confined here for months without human contact, I'm sure another phone call can get you locked away in an asylum,"

No, no, no, no, This could not be happening. Bane shook his head violently, too violently. No doubt his bluff of being unaffected by Arthur's tactics was crumbling. He breathed deeply, relaxing. He had to gain his composure before he could stand up against Arthur, "Arthur," The name was slurred and dark on his tongue, "I've spent an eternity in solitude within Mr. Eames's mind. Several years is nothing compared to what I endured,"

"You spent an eternity in his subconscious. You spent an eternity as a god of your own domain. Now you're in our world, in reality, where nothing is under your control. Being trapped in the subconscious is nothing like being trapped in reality," Arthur picked up the papers and stuffed them back into the briefcase, "We've played by your rules long enough. Now we play by mine,"

Bane tried to startle Arthur, suddenly thrashing from his restraints and growling. Arthur paid him no mind, "You're bluffing!" Bane shouted, struggling harder, "What about Mr. Eames? You wouldn't leave him."

"I'm giving up,"

Bane was silenced. He wanted to be baffled but all he could feel was impending doom lurching upon him. The darkness was threatening to swallow him again.

"I'm a point man. I deal in facts. I have nothing to tell me that Eames is even still alive in your subconscious," Arthur said, lowering his saddened gaze, "And even if he was still alive, who knows what limbo has done to him by now?" He shut the briefcase, stepping away from the bed, "This is goodbye forever, Bane. Hopefully, asylum will bring you peace," The words cut deeper than the papers. His beacon was drifting away, leaving him in the dark.

Before he could even open the door, Bane cut him off, "Wait," He called out, "Please," Arthur complied but opened the door regardless, making Bane flinch with anxiety, "Beloved, I'll let you see Eames. I'll show you he's still alive,"

"If he's trapped inside you regardless, what's the point?"

Bane saw the trap. He knew Arthur was waiting for this moment. He couldn't stop himself regardless. He needed his freedom. He needed Arthur, "That can be decided later," He delayed any bargain. He learned from Eames that jumping into a bargain blindly would never lead to success, "But for now, I permit you to enter limbo and see him as long as you don't..." He stopped, eyes locking to Arthur's before jerking away. He didn't want him to see the desperation in his eyes, "...leave me,"

Arthur pondered for a moment, feigning deep thought before nodding, "Alright," He took out his Blackberry, calling Cobb, "I will ask Cobb to set us up with a PASIV," That was a lie, of course. He already had one hidden away in the hospital, "I will return in an hour," He had to keep his tone even and cold as he exited.

As soon as the other was out of their view, Bane and Arthur shut their eyes tightly and fought the urge to sob. Arthur pressed his hands to his face, taking deep breaths to regain his composure. He decided to take a short walk around the hospital, walking off the emotions that were weighing him down. Bane decided to nap away his emotions. This could be the last day he'll be restrained. This could also be the last day he'll have freedom.

Both were dead silent as Arthur prepared the PASIV device. He inserted the vials of sedative Yusuf had prepared back in Mombasa. From the cameras, Ariadne and Cobb kept careful watch of the two in case something disrupted the dream sharing. Wendy offered to wait at the hospital for Arthur in case he needed the support afterwards.

Bane remained restrained but Arthur offered to hold his hand before they went other. Tightly gripping into his hand, the two locked eyes as Arthur depressed the button and activated the PASIV.

Arthur awoke in absolute darkness. He knew Bane had the ability to jump between levels of dreams and limbo freely. Had he brought Arthur into limbo directly? He wandered but felt nothing but absolute darkness.

"Bane!" He shouted, still wandering.

"Darling,"

Arthur whipped around, seeing Eames standing before him dressed in a black turtleneck and grey, army trousers. The forger smiled at him, embracing Arthur while the point man was stunned, "I'm so happy to see you. I love you so much darling," He murmured into his neck, "I missed you. You have no idea how painful it was without you," He held Arthur's face gently, smiling sweetly and eyes on the verge of tears, "Love, let's go home together," He pressed forward for a kiss. Arthur pushed him back, eyes shut so he wouldn't be swayed by Eames's heartbroken expression.

"Bane, stop it," When he opened his eyes, Eames was gone as well as the darkness. Bane stood before him on the remnants of a rooftop floating in the sky, still dressed in the exact same attire.

A chuckle came from Bane, a sad, pathetic little chuckle, "How'd you know it was me?"

Arthur shrugged with a lopsided smile, "Just a feeling, really. I mean, it was an excellent forgery but picking out details are my specialty,"

"I respect that," Bane said, stepping backwards away from Arthur, "Before we go to limbo, I wish to bring you someplace first."

"A memory?"

"No, a wish," He took Arthur's hand and walked him down the stairs. By all means, Arthur should have fought his grip and tore himself away. He should've forced Bane's hand and shoot himself into limbo. To this Bane, worn by Arthur's cruel gambit, so docile and human, so like Eames, Arthur couldn't find the heart to.

The stairs led to a door with a plate upon it stating 525. It was Tommy's apartment. Bane nudged the door open, leading Arthur to a wretched looking Christmas dinner on the kitchen table. A plate of sliced turkey substituted the traditional stuffed turkey dinner. Cans of miscellaneous goods littered the table as dressings and side dishes.

Bane took on the forgery of Tommy. He wore a worn polo shirt with a cheap black jacket and grey slacks. Arthur thought the choice of clothes was uncharacteristically formal for Tommy yet not quite as classy as Eames. It was when he realized why Bane had chosen this outfit: Tommy wanted to dress nicely for his Christmas dinner with Neil and this was the best he could do.

"Tommy," Arthur sighed, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He jerked away shortly after. This is Bane. Don't forget.

'Tommy' smiled to him, touching his shoulder and leading him into the kitchen, "Sorry, this was the best I could do. Is it alright?"

His voice was too honest, too sweet. Arthur couldn't resist an answer, "No, it's perfect," He genuinely smiled to Tommy as the larger man pulled out a seat for him.

They were likely lost in talk for hours. Tommy entertained Arthur with informal debates about any topic that came to mind. The intellect behind Tommy's words were a kind reminder that Arthur was indeed talking to Bane and not to Tommy. The wine Arthur sipped was expensive, obviously out of Tommy's price range. When the larger man claimed that he splurged for the bottle, Arthur called him out for stealing it. The two shared a short laugh before Tommy admitting to the truth.

The meal and company was divine. It was only when Tommy reached over to kiss Arthur did the point man resist. He shared one soft, chaste kiss before pulling away, shoving Tommy back, "I can't," He said, "Bane, I can't."

Tommy stared into his eyes, gently pinning him to the wall as he talked, "I've always let people jerk me around. My father, the army, it bothered me but I let them jerk me around. I let life control me because I didn't care. This was the first moment that I wanted to go back in time and change," He leaned in again, kissing Arthur gently.

"No," Arthur said again, pushing Tommy away, "Bane, stop it," He pulled out of his grasp.

"I love you,"

"I don't love you,"

Tommy's forgery faded as well as the room returning them to that floating rooftop under the night sky. Bane watched him. The mask might've obscured his face but his eyes were clearly hurt and upset, "Is it because I hurt you?" He whispered through his mask, "Is it because I tortured you, tried to brainwash you?" Arthur couldn't meet his eyes, "Would you have loved me if I treated you right?"

"No," Arthur said, taking in a deep breath to calm himself before looking back at Bane, "I wouldn't have loved you even if you didn't torture me," He reached forward, holding the sides of Bane's face where the mask covered, "You and Eames are two very different people. Eames had every right to hate me. I fell in love with someone else and I spurned him when I saw him again. I hated 'Neil' even if it meant hating Tommy too. I chose myself over him." Arthur smiled sadly, still holding Bane gently, "But he still looked out for me,"

Bane did the exact contrary to Eames: He choose himself over Arthur's happiness.

"And when you appeared, he distanced himself to protect me. The phone call you made; Eames tried to explain but I wouldn't listen. Even after that misunderstanding with the phone call and when I flirted with Ariadne, he remained loyal to me," Arthur broke out into a sad laugh, hands sliding off of Bane, "I said horrible things to him. I treated him even worse. But still, he loved me and endured it."

"I see," Bane's voice was quiet.

"I love Tommy, I'll always love Tommy," Arthur said, "But Eames is special to me. He's so much more than just Tommy. That's why I can't love you." He backed away, watching Bane. He noticed a twitch in his left eye while he stared blankly into the night sky.

Deep down, he knew Eames was willing to sacrifice more for Arthur's happiness. Bane fought tooth and nail to avoid being sealed in the subconscious again. That was why he never stepped beyond the third level while he tried to incept Arthur; he didn't want Arthur to accidentally stumble to Eames. Bane wanted Arthur even if he had to force him to submit. Eames let Arthur go; he let him find his happiness on his own. He threw himself into the black hole, regardless of what hell awaited him, just to protect Arthur. For this entire time, Bane argued that he loved Arthur more. He couldn't have been more wrong.

Bane nodded to himself, acknowledging Eames's love, "Forgive me, Arthur, for everything I've done to you. I'm so sorry," Arthur's arms encircled him, holding him close. Bane returned the hug, his large hands resting on Arthur's back, "I lost control, I always lose control," He was everything Tommy hated about himself, especially his horrible temper. It was in his nature to lose control.

"I know," Arthur whispered, hugging tightly. He remember that time Eames lost control and killed his little league coach. That part of Bane bled out into Eames to protect him. He couldn't forgive him though, not after what Bane had done, torturing him, crippling Ariadne, killing Adrian, killing Eric. Despite this, he continued to embrace him till Bane pulled away and took a gun from his belt.

"If I had never split from Mr. Eames, would you still love us?" Bane asked, adjusting the safety on his gun.

Arthur shrugged. He honestly wasn't sure. Bane acknowledged his lack of response with a soft nod.

He pointed the gun to Arthur's forehead, steadying his grip on it, "I will meet you down at limbo and restore your memories before you lose yourself,"

"Do you swear to it?" The question was pointless. Bane could do whatever he wanted if Arthur had momentarily lost his memory in limbo. Regardless, he needed to read Bane's eyes to know if he spoke the truth.

"I promise," He fired.

The air was dry, he lay on a bed of sand in an empty desert. Despite the sun beating down on him, the grains of sand were cool to the touch and the air was no suffocating. Arthur stood slowly, surveying the world around him. He rubbed his eyes, yawning as he stretched.

A large hand came upon his shoulder. Suddenly, everything returned. In shock, he stumbled back and fell into the sand. Bane immediately reached down and helped him up, "Has your memory returned?"

Arthur breathed in deeply, his heart was beating rapidly. The shock of his memories all returning at once literally knocked him off his feet, "Yeah, fine. Couldn't you have warned me or something?" There was a smile in Bane's eyes. That was one aspect he shared with Eames: Mischievous, "Where's the black hole?" He answered his own question when he looked at the giant well in the ground just a few steps away. He stepped towards it and looked over the edge only seeing absolute darkness, "What happened here?"

"In exchange for access to limbo and your memories of Fischer's inception, I enlisted the help of Barsad. We constructed this in limbo to contain the black hole so we could explore limbo without accidentally falling in," Bane explained, "He was a very resourceful man with loyalty bought with knowledge. Yet even still, he pitied you enough to let you message Cobb,"

"He let me?" Arthur thought he had tricked him.

"The man hadn't expected you to find his phone so quickly but yes, he wanted to help you indirectly," Bane forged himself a rope from the sand, "Mr. Eames is in there. Shall we go down then?" Bane tied the rope around himself like a harness, securing the other end to a hook on the side of the well.

"Wait, is it safe for you to go down there?" Arthur said, "Then both parts of Tommy will be trapped down there," He grabbed Bane's shoulder, "I should go down alone,"

Bane secured the rope tighter around himself, "No. I experimented with Barsad. It is possible for me to enter the black hole as well as long as I have a foothold outside of it," He reached an arm around Arthur, hauling him up against his chest with one arm secured around his waist and under his knees while the other gripped the rope. To steady himself, Arthur wrapped both arms around Bane's neck and shoulders.

"What are you doing!" Arthur shouted, gripping onto tighter.

"Carrying you down," Bane said, holding the rope and kicking off the wall as he descended into the black hole, "I doubt you are as adept with climbing as I am," He chuckled when he heard Arthur scoff in displeasure.

"If I fall, I'd just die. Wouldn't I? Then I'd wake up,"

Bane withdrew the gun from his pocket and pressed it into Arthur's forehead. The point man struggled but Bane's grip was firm on him, "Bane!" He shouted indignantly, struggling wildly to get away. Bane fired his gun, blood exploded from Arthur's vision as he cried out.

Moments later, the wound disappeared as if it had never happened. The blood still splattered on his face was the only reminder that Bane had just shot him, "Bane, what the hell!" He barked.

"Another experiment we conducted down here. Death is an impossibility in the negative subconscious," Bane explained, pocketing the gun, "So even if Mr. Eames tried to kill himself, he would not escape. The death would not 'register' in this space," He held Arthur tighter, re-steadying his grip when Arthur had jostled around. Reluctantly, Arthur wrapped his arms tightly around his neck to secure his grip.

The two had been descending for a while. The darkness had enveloped the circle of light from the well. All that was left was pitch black darkness and footholds upon walls that were only barely visible. Arthur's eyes permeated the darkness, looking at the multiple footholds and ledges that almost built a staircase to the top of the well.

"Aren't these steps counterproductive?" Arthur said, "Eames could escape, couldn't he?"

"I didn't put them there," Bane said, "I believe Mr. Eames has been trying to forge a way out but given how dilapidated and incomplete these steps are, I'd say architecture in the negative subconscious is not quite as flexible."

As the two slowly descended, Arthur watched as the darkness below them began fading to red, "Bane, what's that?"

The larger man looked down, gripping Arthur closer to him as he descended, "Mr. Eames, it appears," Bane leapt off the wall, gripping onto Arthur tightly and letting the rope fall with them, unravelling as it went. Arthur kept his eyes shut, gripping onto Bane tightly as the two fell together.

Bane's landing was heavy. The floor beneath him was unstable and shifting; his bulk was the only property that kept him from slipping to the ground. Arthur opened his eyes slowly, surveying his surroundings, "Oh my god," The floor was a sea of red poker chips. He slapped at Bane's shoulder, "Let me down," The larger man ignored him at first, still carrying the point man as he walked, "Bane!"

A metallic sigh came from Bane. He lowered Arthur onto the poker chips, straightening out his clothes as he did, "Do not stray too far. Without the rope, you will not be able to return," He pulled at the rope connected to his harness.

"Right," Arthur agreed before turning away and wandering through the poker chips, "Eames?" Arthur shouted as he wandered the sea of poker chips. A figure, half buried in the poker chips caught his attention, "Eames!" Arthur called, running towards the buried figure. He grabbed the man's shoulder and turned him around... greeted by his own face plastered onto a rotting body. Arthur jerked away, stumbling back into Bane's strong back, "What is that?"

Bane chuckled resulting in Arthur seething at the man, "An attempt at a projection of you. He must've been lonely,"

"Shut up," Arthur growled, stepping over the corpse and continuing his search.

When he had stumbled over a cell phone, Arthur knew he was going the right direction, "Eames!" He cried out again, "Where are you?" The faintest sound of a poker chip dropping into a pile that scattered beneath its weight caught Arthur's attention. He looked to Bane first, checking if it was him, before running, "Eames!" He shouted.

The faintest word met his ears, "Arthur?"

Hugging his knees and curled up on a stack of poker chips, Eames looked up and watched Arthur from afar. Arthur recognized him immediately by the salmon paisley shirt he wore and the tan slacks that so dreadfully matched it. There was a concussion on his head, likely from climbing the walls and falling. As Bane said, the wound hadn't killed him but it left blood painted over his face like a one-sided mask.

His left hand never stopped rubbing at the poker chip in his fingers, now an unconscious habit. His eyes kept moving, watching Arthur and the chip in his hands. Another chip birthed from his hands as Arthur approached. Eames curled up on himself and wept into his knees.

"Eames!" Arthur shouted, falling to his knees and embracing Eames with a bruising strength, "Oh god, Eames. You're alive,"

"Are you real?" Eames whispered into his knees. He didn't return the embrace. He didn't look up, "I'm still in limbo, aren't I?"

Arthur nodded quickly, "Yes, you're in limbo but I'm real. I'm here with you right now," Arthur said, lifting Eames's face into his hands and staring straight into his eyes framed with eyelashes dipped in blood, "Eames, look at me," The forger couldn't. He kept tearing his gaze away.

"That's what they all say," Eames sobbed, "And then they decay before my eyes, staring at me like I killed them," He struggled, trying to get away. Arthur held him still, wrestling with him upon the poker chips till the forger was too exhausted to run, "Stop!" He screamed.

A heavy footstep cut him off. Eames and Arthur turned, staring at Bane as he approached them slowly, "Fear not, Mr. Eames. You are not dreaming. This is indeed Arthur," Bane was the god of Eames's world. His word was absolute. Eames immediately stopped struggling and hugged Arthur tightly, soaking in his presence. Slowly, carefully, Arthur took Eames into his arms.

"Darling," He murmured into his neck, pressing his plush lips firmly into Arthur's skin, "I love you so much. I love you more than anything in this entire world. I love you. I love you..." He continued to murmur into Arthur's neck, engraving his declarations of love into Arthur's body.

Arthur sobbed into Eames's neck, memorizing the feel of his Eames. He kissed at his neck, finding the butterfly tattoo intact and still so beautiful to look at, "I'm not leaving you. I'll save you, I promise,"

"You can't. You have a life to live out there," Eames said, pulling away from his embrace to look sternly at Bane. There was clearly weakness in his eyes but having Arthur in his arms put strength back in him, "And you, you better be treating him well."

Bane said nothing. He hadn't just broken their promise. He shattered it into pieces.

Arthur fought against Eames as the forger tried desperately to push him away, "I'm going to bring you back," He turned to Bane, "Please, don't leave him down here anymore," Bane had no reaction, "Bane!" Arthur shouted, "I promise I'll return your love if you save Eames,"

"Bargaining will not help you. You cannot force yourself to love me," Bane said plainly, "I promised to let you see him, nothing more," He reached out a hand to Arthur, "I will bring you back to the surface. Come on,"

Arthur slapped Bane's hand away instantaneously. Eames gasped, reaching forward and grabbing Arthur's forearm, "Don't do this. Go with him. I'm not worth being trapped down here," Eames was promptly silenced when Arthur grabbed his collar and crushed their lips together in a passionate kiss. It felt like centuries had passed since Arthur last felt those warm, affectionate lips upon his own reaching for his in a kiss. When he pulled away, Eames's mind was successfully short-circuited.

The point man returned his attention to Bane, eyes hardening in an instant, "I'm not leaving him."

Jealousy radiated from the man. Now more than even, Bane appeared like a monstrosity to Arthur, envy and hatred slipping out from his body at the sight of Eames. However, when his eyes fell upon Arthur, every shade of loathing faded away into soft sadness.

"Very well," He said, picking up the rope and following it back to the wall, "Then you may remain here with Mr. Eames,"

"Bane, get him out of here!" Eames shouted, "Force him if you have to. Just do it!"

"I've forced him to do more than enough," Bane replied, his back towards them so they couldn't read the regret and melancholy in his expression. Eventually, he faded into the darkness. His footsteps and metallic breathing disappeared soon after.

"What?" Eames turned to Arthur. The point man's humiliated eyes told him exactly what had happened, "Darling, I'm so sorry," Eames whispered.

"It isn't your fault," Arthur said, holding his hands between both of them.

"Of course it is, the only reason Bane exists is because I was selfish and stupid and impulsive. If I had just endured it, none of this wouldn't have happened. You wouldn't have had to suffer,"

"That's in the past now. All I care about now is that you're not alone in this," Arthur lifted Eames's chin again, staring straight into his eyes, "I love you, Eames. I would gladly enjoy spending an eternity in any hell as long as it meant I could be with you,"

"But-"

Arthur pressed a finger to his lips, "No more," He lifted the finger slowly, watching Eames wet his lips with his tongue and ponder over what to say next.

"Forgive me," He still hadn't finished his apologies.

Arthur smiled softly, pressing a kiss against his lips again, "Always," He used his fingers and wiped away the blood upon Eames's face. Eames followed suit and cleaned off Arthur.

His fingers trailed down Eames's body, stripping off the paisley shirt and tan slacks. Eames worked off Arthur's clothes slowly, careful to keep everything neat and orderly just as Arthur liked it. For the first time in a very long time, the two made love. It wasn't primal like having sex for pleasure like Bane had done. This was passion flowing between their bodies and blooming deep inside them. Every movement was confident and calculated, not a single spark of pleasure was missed. And when they climaxed, the two cried out in unison, hands scrambling to find purchase on the other as white hot ecstasy surged through them, melting their hearts back into one just as it was always meant to be.

When it was over, the two lay on a bed of poker chips, happy and so deeply in love. Eames had fallen asleep first, resting peacefully for the first time in the centuries he had spent in limbo trapped in the black hole. Arthur watched him sleep, carefully draping his coat over him while he cuddled deeper into Eames's arms.

Arthur peered up into the air, eyes permeating the darkness to see the poorly constructed footholds that made up the walls of the black hole. A spot of blood on one relatively large foothold caught Arthur's attention. Eames had tried to climb out, probably hundreds of times.

Tommy, Eames, he had always been Arthur's hero. He gripped Eames's hand tightly, kissing his knuckles softly and listening to the pleasurable sighs coming from the sleeping forger. You saved me so please, let me save you.

Arthur wasn't sure how long he had dozed off. Time in the black hole was artificial. Everything was static and anything that could be used to tell the passing of time was fabricated. He woke to the feel of a hand caressing his cheek and carding through his hair, "Eames," He murmured into the hand, pressing his lips to the calloused fingertips when they brushed over his lips. A warm softness cloaked his body. Arthur breathed in the sweet musky scent that enveloped him. A sensation of floating took over his body. Momentarily, he relished in it before snapping his eyes open and struggling out from Bane's grasp.

"Let go of me!" He hissed, naked body wrapped in Bane's fur-lined coat and resting in Bane's arms bridal style, "I said I'm not leaving him. Put me down now!" He gasped as Bane pressed the front of his mask to his neck, kissing him without lips. Arthur groaned softly, shoving at Bane's head, "Don't," He gasped out.

"I'm not leaving you down here," Bane said.

"You were quite content with leaving me behind the last time we met,"

"I've had time to think," Impulsiveness was one of the qualities Eames had wanted to seal away. Arthur could read it too clearly inside of Bane, "I can't let your mind rot down here,"

"I won't leave without Eames. You want me out, you take Eames with me," Arthur said coldly, still trying to wriggle out from Bane's iron grasp.

"As long as Mr. Eames survives, I won't have you," Bane said.

"Then you won't have me, ever," Arthur said, finally wriggling out of his grasp and falling onto the poker chip lined ground. He wrapped the coat around him, covering up his naked body.

"Could you imagine staying down here forever till your mind is reduced to nothing but sludge? When the sedation wears off, when you've lived a billion years and more, you'll wake up a drooling, catatonic husk of the man you used to be,"

Arthur narrowed his eyes, "You don't scare me,"

"And what about Cobb? Ariadne? Wendy? What will they think when you awaken?" Bane noticed the sudden chill rolling through Arthur, "You also realize that once you awaken, once the PASIV ends, Eames will return to my subconscious and you will return to your own subconscious. Even in a state of catatonia, you will not be with Mr. Eames," He reached a hand out to Arthur, happy that the point man didn't pull away, "Come with me. Wake up. This time, I will honour Mr. Eames's promises. I will love you correctly," A smile was in his eyes as Arthur lifted his hand.

The smile faded as soon as Arthur slapped Bane's hand away gently, "I would suffer an eternity for Eames. My mind turning to sludge, losing myself completely when I wake up, that's worth it as long as I can be with him and help him through it," He looked to the footholds on the black hole.

"What if I offered to bring you to him every week?" Bane was bargaining. He was desperate.

Arthur shook his head, "No. I need to be here beside him to share his suffering," He walked towards one of the walls, feeling the loose foothold Eames had crafted, "And who knows, maybe someday, we'll escape,"

"It's impossible to escape the black hole. Memories thrown in are lost forever."

"Memories can never be gone, just buried deep inside your mind. Memories are static. They don't have a consciousness, a will to get out," Arthur moved in close, putting a hand onto Bane's chest, "Just like you had. Eames didn't repress memories or temper, he repressed an entire persona."

Bane nodded slowly in agreement, "So you will stay and try to escape?"

Arthur shrugged, "Of course," He walked away from Bane, back to Eames, "I'll see you on the other side," He heard Bane's steps against the wall, climbing up the rope harness and disappearing into the darkness above them.

Eames had awakened since Arthur left. When he saw Arthur walking towards him, he smiled softly to him, "Good morning. Or afternoon, or whenever," He sat up slowly, taking his pants from the ground and fitting them on slowly. He eyed the coat draped around Arthur's shoulders, "Bane was here?"

"He tried to take me back with him," Arthur replied, sitting down and sliding the coat off, "I refused," There was an obvious sadness in Eames's eyes, "Eames, I wouldn't leave you. I promise,"

"It's not that," He said, reaching for Arthur's clothes and handing it to him, "I wish you went with him. The thought of you as a drooling, comatose vegetable in reality because you chose to stay in limbo with me," His voice went quiet as he shut his eyes, "God, Arthur, I don't want that to happen to you. Please, if Bane comes down again, go with him," He pleaded again. He gasped as Arthur tackled him down, pinning him to the poker chips and hovering over him closely, "Darling?"

"What about you? Did you think I wanted this to happen to you?" Arthur said firmly, "Throwing yourself down here. If I had come any later, you might've lost your mind already. How do you think that makes me feel?" Eames swallowed, staring straight into Arthur's penetrating eyes, "I thought I lost you forever. Do you know how hard it was to convince myself that you were still alive?" He buried his forehead into Eames's chest, breathing deeply as he lowered his entire body onto the forger, "You broke my heart,"

Eames wrapped his arms around him tightly, lifting him so Arthur stared into his eyes directly above his face, "I guess we both are in the wrong, aren't we?" Gently, he pulled Arthur in for a kiss. The point man returned his affection, pressing their bodies firmly together.

When they had finished their kiss and gotten dressed, Eames and Arthur both began wandering the poker chip sea together, mapping out the footholds upon the walls.

"Sorry I couldn't make them any more even," Eames said, climbing up on one large foothold and pulling Arthur up, "It's this space. It just resists any form of manipulation and any that bleeds through ends up incomplete," He took Arthur's jacket off, tossing it into the poker chips along with his tie, "Better for climbing," He reached forward, unbuttoning the first few buttons of Arthur's shirt till a triangle of his chest was revealed. A toothy grin was on Eames's face at how dishevelled Arthur looked.

"Get used to it, Eames, you won't be seeing me like this when we get out," Arthur said with a smirk, climbing up onto another foothold.

With Arthur's precise organization, he had mapped out the safest path upwards, taking a break every once in a while to reassess the surroundings. Eames's experience with centuries of climbing helped Arthur gauge how far they could reach. He was always the first to jump across whenever a risk was to be made, only letting Arthur cross when he was sure that the path was safe.

"This jump," Eames murmured, backing up on the foothold as Arthur climbed up.

"What's wrong?" Arthur said.

"I've never been able to make this jump," Eames gestured to the ledge in front of them, "It's always just out of reach no matter how hard I try. Is there any other path?"

Arthur shook his head, "Only this way leads to a sturdy path. Everything else is too risky or a dead end," He stepped forward on the ledge only to be pulled back quickly.

"Don't jump," Eames said, "You won't make it,"

"I know. I trust what you say," Arthur replied, he knelt down by the edge, holding both his hands together, "I'll boost you over and when you're over, you catch me before I fall." Eames merely stared at him in awe, "Well?"

"That's crazy," Eames said.

"And you say I have no imagination," Arthur said with a smirk, "Come on. We have to try,"

Eames nodded. The worse that could happen was having to make the entire climb again. With Arthur by his side, the climbs were no longer torture without end. He stepped to the very opposite edge, giving himself as long a running start as he could. He ran, he leapt onto Arthur's hands, and jumped, soaring into the air.

His shoulder met the opposite ledge, he rolled forward till he was stopped by the wall. With a giant grin, he got up and punched his fists into the air, "It worked!" Arthur laughed at how childishly happy he looked. Eames knelt by the ledge, reaching his arms out, "Your turn," Eames said. He knew he had to be precise. One slip up and Arthur would be plummeting down experiencing his first death by impact in the black hole.

Arthur leapt from the edge, arms reaching forward for the edge. A rush of adrenaline came through him as his momentum failed him. There was no way he'd reach the edge. Large hands came forward, Eames grabbed onto his forearms and hoisted him up quickly before his momentum died down. They both fell onto the ledge, Eames onto his back and Arthur over his chest with smiles unfitting their current situation.

"Nailed it, darling," Eames cooed into Arthur's ear.

Everything seemed possible now after having completed that leap of faith.

At a later jump, Arthur lost his footing and nearly tumbled down several steps. Eames leapt forward, sliding on his stomach as he grabbed Arthur's arm and pulled him back up, "Darling, be more careful," He said, pulling Arthur into his embrace and hugging him tightly. He almost lost Arthur down into darkness, their progress rendered pointless.

"I will," Arthur said, getting up, "Come on," He pulled Eames up and they continued their trek.

When the stability of the footholds diminished over a path, Eames would always wait for Arthur to go first so he could catch him should he fall. Arthur was a fast climber, often reaching the top way before Eames could even catch up. During one climb, when Eames had finally reached the top, the edge of the foothold crumbled. Eames shut his eyes, bracing himself for a horrible skull shattering impact that he'd have to live through.

"Eames!" Arthur cried out, grabbing onto Eames with one hand on the front of his shirt and the other on his left arm. He pulled with all his strength, tumbling onto his back with Eames trembling on his chest, "Are you alright?" Arthur asked breathlessly. The two broke into a hysterical laugh; they had no more tears to shed. Eames silenced their laugh before kissing Arthur quickly, laying on that foothold for a moment before continued their trek upward.

"Have you ever gotten this high?" Arthur said, peering down and no longer seeing a red blip in the darkness where the sea of poker chips lay. They were resting on a wide ledge. Arthur was busy mapping out the footholds above them while Eames sat by resting.

"Never," Eames replied, "I could always see the poker chips beneath me,"

The path upward became more even and secure. The closer they got to the exit, the more solidified Eames's constructs became. The two felt like children climbing around on a jungle gym trying to catch up with the other. Despite the repercussions of falling, Eames would occasionally pretend to stumble forward, pressing Arthur up tight against the wall and littering his face with butterfly kisses.

There was light above them. It was a gentle blue like the morning sky. Arthur and Eames took a break from climbing, laying down on a sturdy ledge, just to look up at that gentle glow and absorb it. They were so close to the exit. The steps had become far more pronounced and the two found themselves walking up steps more often as opposed to treacherously climbing them.

Eames was humming a song so familiar yet Arthur through his meticulous planning of paths could not recognize it, "That's the pain, that cuts a straight line down through the heart," Eames whispered the words to himself as he continued to hum the song, "We called it love," He said, peering over to Arthur who watched him with a smile, "We wrapped our arms around each other, tried to shove ourselves back together, we were making love, making love," A toothy smile appeared on Eames's face as Arthur smiled, dimples visible on his face.

"So that time at the night club, it was you, not Bane," Arthur said, still smiling with dimples on his face, "I'm glad,"

"Watching you sing was worth every century I spent down here," Eames said, "I've never had a song dedicated to me before,"

"Maybe I'll dance for you next time too,"

"Oh god yes," Eames nearly moaned his words, stretching around Arthur, "Do I get to pick the outfit and song too?"

Arthur laughed, shoving at Eames's face with his hand, "You are unbelievable," At the sight of Eames playfully slapping at his hand, a revelation came over Arthur. Eames had been his true love since they had first met in New York. Despite the filth slathered over Neil McCormick's name, Tommy cherished him regardless. A decade later, even when Arthur tried so desperately hard, he couldn't resist being near Eames. Years later, Eames threw away the most secure job he ever had just to protect Arthur from Cobb's dilemma. And finally, he chose to suffer his mental torture alone forever, letting Arthur find his own happiness as opposed to letting him share his pain. They spent such little time together yet every moment they were with each other, Arthur was overwhelmed by intense passion for him. Even when he hated Eames, it was only because his feelings for him were interrupting his resolve, a resolve he eventually threw away when he realized it wasn't worth it.

His fingers hooked around Eames's pinky finger, pulling his hand close so he could hold it with his entire hand. They had been separated for so long through every single type of problem they could imagine. Now, more than ever, Arthur wanted Eames by his side forever. Eames turned to Arthur, goofy smile fading away at the sight of Arthur's mixed emotions.

"Arthur?"

"Marry me,"

A faint blush appeared over Eames's cheeks. The forger had never blushed in front of him before. Arthur engraved the look of a flushed, baffled Eames into his mind, "What?" Eames whispered.

"Marry me," Arthur said again, "I want you by my side forever,"

Eames wanted to argue. He wanted to tell Arthur what a bad idea that was. He'd only invite trouble onto himself. Yet, the sight of Arthur baring his heart to him silenced Eames. Arthur gestured for Eames to stand so he could kneel before him and propose properly. Eames didn't protest despite how redundant the gesture was. Arthur took his hand, kneeling before him, and kissed the back of his knuckles.

"Thomas Eames, will you marry me?"

Eames knelt down, hugging Arthur tightly and tumbling onto the ledge with him, "Yes!" He cried out, "Yes, yes, yes," He murmured again and again, "Always, darling," He got up on his feet, helping Arthur sit up before letting out a huge cry of happiness, "I love Arthur Riordan!" He shouted into the air, his voice echoing down into the pit.

"You are such a child," Arthur said, pulling him back down and kissing him fervently.

"Arthur," Eames said, rushing onto his knees and taking both of Arthur's hands into his own, "When we reach the surface, allow me to propose to you. Please?" Arthur nodded with a pleasant smile before standing back up and continuing their journey upward.

From then on, the trek was easy. Neither of them fumbled; neither of them missed a step. The light of freedom was clear. The clouds in the sky were visible. At the final step, Arthur boosted Eames up onto the ledge above them. The forger climbed over, tumbling over the ledge onto solid ground.

"I got you, Arthur," He said, reaching back into the pit.

...Only to see all the footholds and structures Eames had constructed falling apart. Leaving the black hole annulled all his creations from the black hole's existence. The ground crumbled beneath Arthur's feet. In horror, the point man reached forward, fingers just missing Eames's hand.

"Arthur!" Eames cried out, heart stopping. He leapt off the ledge, grabbing Arthur by his forearm. He gripped onto the edge of the well surrounding the black hole, his fingers slipping when he couldn't find any grip upon them. The two were falling back down, all footholds and paths crumbling behind them until a strong hand grabbed onto Eames's.

"Bane," Eames gasped, looking at the ridiculously muscled arm that gripping onto him.

"Don't you dare let go of Arthur," Bane said through his mask, effortlessly hauling both men up. He let Eames tumble to the ground, when Arthur's hands reached the ledge of the well, Bane wrapped both arms around him and hoisted his entire body up safely.

"Are you alright?" Eames and Bane said in unison, both staring at Arthur who remained tightly embraced in Bane's arms.

Arthur nodded quickly, "Yeah. Scared me for a second," He swore his heart nearly leapt out of his chest. He looked up to Bane who breathed down on him through his mask, "Thank you," He released Arthur, walking over to the edge of the black hole and leaning against the wall.

Eames immediately rushed over to Arthur, standing between him and Bane, "Bane," He said.

"You may have him. I will no longer interrupt your life," Bane's eyes appeared cold to Eames but Arthur could see the absolute sadness he had in them, "If I cannot cast aside my own happiness for yours then I do not deserve to have you. I will step aside, just as Mr. Eames had for you."

Eames shook his head, putting an arm around Arthur to pull him close. Something had changed about Bane. He was weaker, more human. In his eyes was a soul torn down from his omnipotent pedestal. Someone broke him and despite the horrible things he had put them both through, he couldn't just disregard a piece of himself. Eames already made the same mistake so long ago, he wasn't going to do that again, "The longer you stay down here, the worse it'll get. I have an offer for you,"

"Another bargain? I thought you would have learned by now," His eyes were upturned as if he was laughing, "No. Baiting me with pieces of my beloved will only drive me insane. Go, I will no longer interrupt with your life,"

"My bargain isn't merely moments of reality, its all of reality. All of Arthur,"

"What?" Arthur said, looking at Eames, appalled, "What are you saying?"

"I'm offering to put us back together," Eames said, "Bane and I are two parts of the same person. In the long run, staying apart will only cause more trouble," Eames was not wrong. Bane knew that it was only a matter of time before Eames either withered away in the black hole or figured out how to manipulate it just as Bane had done with his own jail. He had assumed negative subconscious to be nothingness but Eames's ability to build in the hole proved him otherwise. He could have become a greater monster than Bane ever was. Worst of all, he could have become a monster who cared no more for Arthur.

Bane looked to Arthur who remained silent over Eames's bargain, "Would you prefer Eames as he is now?" Or would you prefer us put back together?

The answer was obvious to Arthur. Eames. He wanted Eames without all the sins Bane carried with him. He wanted to take Eames away from limbo, away from the dreamscape, and pretend like everything that had happened with Bane was merely a horrible nightmare. Eames was perfection but how could he neglect everything else about him? If he was to love Eames, love Tommy, he had to love all of him, his perfection, his imperfections, his sins. The right answer was clear to Arthur.

"I prefer to love all of you, your perfections and your imperfections," He said.

Eames nodded, kissed Arthur's cheek and walked towards Bane. He took the gun from his belt, pointing it to Arthur, "See you on the other side," He fired, sending Arthur back to reality. He tossed the gun onto the floor, looking at Bane, "You realize this might not work out the way we think it will. My consciousness could be lost in the process, yours could, or maybe some third behemoth will spawn from both of our minds."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Bane said. If Arthur will only accept me if I am one with you, then so be it.

Eames reached forward, movements matching Bane's hands as they worked to remove the mask together. When two latches fell, Eames took Bane's mask into his hand. He noticed a quivering fear in Bane's eyes. Sweat was sliding down his skin. Eames shared in his fear. He wasn't sure what would happen but he kept it to himself and forged himself a calm persona.

"Now's not the time for fear," Eames said, earning a light chuckle from Bane, "Ready?"

"Ready,"

Arthur took a deep breath as he woke up. He was lying on a stretcher that had been wheeled into Eames's room. He tore the needle from his wrist, retracting the tube back into the PASIV. He smoothed back his hair and immediately straightened up his suit. He checked the clock, an hour had passed which meant the sedation had worn off.

"Eames," He whispered to the body laying on the bed, still restrained. Eames was still asleep, unmoving, "Eames?" He said again, shaking the body weakly. He was still breathing but the man had yet to awaken, "Wake up, Eames,"

As his memories returned, Arthur retracted his remark. It wasn't Eames anymore. Whether or not he kept the name 'Eames', this was a new person that would awaken from Eames's body. After removing his restraints, he waited, watching him fervently for any signs of movement. When he finally began to stir, Arthur's heart leapt out of its chest.

'Eames' looked at him with half-lidded eyes. Arthur immediately reached down and undid all his restraints, freeing him from the bed. Eames greeted his actions with a kind smile, "Darling," He whispered, stretching slowly and sitting up. He wrapped his arms around him and immediately pressed their lips together. When he felt that Arthur's lips were sufficiently pleasured, he moved his lips downward and began suckling marks into his skin.

Arthur laughed a bit at how proactive Eames was. Certainly this behaviour was more akin to Bane but there was a softness to his actions that reminded him of Eames, "Ah, right," Eames said, slowly crawling off the bed despite his aching muscles.

"Eames-," Arthur cut himself off. No, 'Eames' wasn't right. He searched for a name in his head, something fitting for the two halves coming back together, "Thomas," He said, making Eames smile, his eyes upturning like Bane's had when he smiled, "Be careful, you're hurt. This can wait,"

Eames shook his head, "Eames is fine," He said, sitting Arthur down on the bed and taking his left hand into both of his hands. He kissed the back of his wrist, moving up to massage each knuckle with his lips and then ghost over his long fingers, planting a kiss at the tip of each one.

"Arthur, beloved, will you marry me?"

Arthur wanted to respond but he found himself too winded to talk. He nodded quickly before reaching down and hugging Eames tightly, pressing his face into the scarred flesh of his neck. This was Eames. This was Bane. This was Tommy. This was the man he loved, finally back, finally in his arms.

He heard a nurse enter. The sound of heels clacking against the floor alerted him of Wendy's presence. Arthur didn't care though, neither did Eames. Right now, all they wanted to do was hold their beloved as tightly as they could, trying to crush themselves back together, pressing their fractures together like long lost puzzle pieces joining for the first time, like it was their destiny to never be apart ever again.

---

It was a cold, dark evening such a long time ago
when by the mighty hand of Jove
It was the sad story of how we became lonely two legged-creatures
Its the story of the origin of love
That's the origin of love

"Origin of Love" - Hedwig and the Angry Inch

---

The end! I hope everyone enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. "Origin of Love" was pretty much the theme song to this fanfiction. I definitely recommend listening to it and checking out Aristophanes's Speech in Plato's Symposium to see what the song is based off. I fell in love with the song and it pretty much just became a recurring theme over and over again in the fic: "Blood on your face", "Cut us down again", etc.

Scrap notes to this fic:
This was originally supposed to be a lot more light hearted. Up to the first three chapters was my original plan with Arthur and Eames reconciling after the Inception Job. The two were then supposed to go and visit everyone from their past again. And originally, Eric was never an architect. Hal originally was the architect before I moved him into a side job and Eric into his role. Sadistic, inescapable monsters is my guilty pleasure coupled with the idea of a split personality that's omnipotent in dreams pretty much took over the entire fanfic. I think Bane's chapters are far longer than every other chapter.

Another original idea that was changed was Arthur's relationship with Adrian. Originally, Adrian was meant to be an abusive, control freak boyfriend but that was scrapped early on when I thought a logical, efficient man like Arthur would never put himself in an abusive relationship without reason. This was later transferred into Bane and Arthur and kinda justified in that Arthur had been momentarily brainwashed by him.

"The Pit" idea was a last minute addition. Going with the "fractured" idea. Eames was meant to be floating in the space asleep. He's completely lost his memories and is near catatonic when Arthur finds him. By reconciling with Bane, Arthur is able to remind Eames of his life and the black hole was meant to shatter like glass. But, given that I had already pulled in so many Batman references, I thought I should just put the pit climbing part in. I think that was definitely for the better.

Adrian's lighter totem. That's totally my totem. Except now its useless since I told everyone what the function is

Appearances of original characters: Hal was based directly off Otacon from MGS4, right down to the same name. Similarily, Adrian's appearance is based off Ozymndias from The Watchmen movie, also taking the same name (This actually became Hilarious in Hindsight when I watched The Lookout where Joseph Gordon-Levitt is manipulated by Matthew Goode AKA Ozymandias's actor)

Working titles for this fanfic: "Earn your Heart" back before I had decided to split this up into chapters. "The pain down in your soul" was the same as the one down in mine, based directly off a line from Origin of Love since I really tried to emphasize parallels between Neil/Tommy and Eames/Arthur. "Two Legged creatures" also based off The Origin of Love was considered but I thought it sounded strange. "Origin of Love" itself was considered but I felt that it sounded unoriginal. Maybe I'll pop it into the description sometime.

Alternative ending: There were two before, both involving major character death. The first one had Arthur dying which triggers Eames to fully allow Bane to take over and avenge his fallen lover. In this story, Eames was then supposed to meet John Blake, who he obsesses over at first since he looks like Arthur, but eventually acts as his morality pet and pulls him back to reality. This was scrapped when I thought I should leave John Blake out of this. The second one had Arthur accidentally killing Bane on the island. In this ending, the majority of the chapter would have been Arthur mourning with Ariadne and Cobb scattering his ashes into the sea at the end. In the end, I just didn't have the heart to give them a sad ending after putting them through so much stuff.

Possible sequel, depends on if I can think of a decent enough plot. I'm sure there's plenty to write about with the current setup but I've got another idea for a fanfiction which might taken precedence.

Epilogue, I wouldn't consider it canon to the story. It's just going to be a collection of fluffy stories building up to the wedding. The epilogue is the only part of this story that wasn't pre-written so that won't conform to the daily updates I have for this fic.

Please review and tell me what you think! Thank you for reading!