Glad to get some feedback from you all :D Yeah, on a roll here, I love seeing great movies and then getting the chance to work with them. Forewarning friends, this relationship isn't flash bang immediate. Andromeda is seriously fucked up and Eames, we all know he hasn't got everything together. But yeah, all the same I hope you enjoy the ride.
Arthur and Andromeda.
At first she was alone, it wasn't a life that suited her. At the tender age of five she'd always felt the need for a companion, one true friend. She supposed the listlessness and the constant imaginary friends let her parents know this fact.
She remembered pressing her cheek against her mother's belly, remembered soft hands in her hair as she felt the baby kick.
"I can feel you, little baby,"she said softly. She heard her mom chuckle and then they both went to the kitchen for lunch.
...
He followed her everywhere, up the stairs, down the stairs, into the living room, outside. She loved it. She was older than him and knew that meant that she was to be his teacher. There was a whole world of dangers he had to know about, how to eat peaches without getting the roof of your mouth grated on the pit. How to spit really far and show up the other kids at the bus stop. How to walk backwards without running into anything, and the list went on.
...
She didn't understand father's personality, his need to yell at her and Arthur. Mother was often quiet during these times and Andromeda would never ask for her mother's defense. It would seem wrong. However, she often sent Arthur for various treasure hunts, errands, and to the drugstore for candy when these times arose. She was her brother's shield, she understood.
...
"Light it up for me wouldja?"
"Yeah,sure."
She inhaled the smoke, held it in, looked upwards as the drug took affect. She passed the joint to her brother. He took a drag, coughed a bit and then passed it back. They didn't have to talk, rarely ever did. Their language consisted of looks, sighs, chuckles, sometimes a soft touch to the shoulder. Words were last, because they were practically one and the same, they just happened to be two bodies.
She breathed the smoke through her nose and then winked at Arthur. He frowned but took back the joint practicing to do the same.
...
Arthur was on the porch outside of their home. His hands were on his knees and he was waiting for her. His hair was combed back, his shirt neatly pressed. Andromeda remembered the gradual change, despite her efforts. Their father had managed to change Arthur. The man's words cut the young boy, chipping away at parts that the older man deemed errant.
Andromeda decided from that day on, her father would never shape her future. She joined the military. She'd considered college but there was really nothing she'd taken an interest in, nothing that mattered more to her than her ability to protect.
...
She remembered the death of her first enemy combatant. She had expected to feel some kind of remorse, some sympathy for the man or his family. She felt nothing. She wondered if it was strange, her lack of feeling. No doubt she felt things but none of it was guilt related. During her downtime she wrote to her brother. In his last letter he'd told her about mom being in the hospital. She'd tried to feel something, she really did but there had been nothing. She wondered if Arthur knew how she was, probably did. He loved her anyway and she figured that was the most important part.
...
He'd gone on his own military stretch, Arthur. He'd been in MIT and then mysteriously dropped out. She wondered if he was happy. She'd progressed much farther than a soldier. In the military her lack of spirit, her stunted sense of camaraderie, drew a certain kind of attention. She was discharged and immediately scooped up for more dangerous things.
Apathetic, cold, withdrawn, these were only a few of the words used to describe her. She understood the fear she invoked. Mind, she did feel a twinge of sorrow at the idea that her fellow soldiers had never really understood her. It was during those moments she'd brew green tea and think about Arthur.
She'd stopped writing and had decided to keep tabs on her younger brother. Through various contacts she'd followed his nefarious yet brilliant acts all over the world. She was pleased to know that he remained a dreamer, that her father's actions had not completely hindered him.
...
She wiped the last of blades clean, then moved on to disassembling her gun. It was soothing, taking things apart, putting them back together. She enjoyed the smaller parts becoming a much greater machine. However, she missed her brother. There was a dull ache in her chest, something heavy that troubled Andromeda. Rarely anything troubled Andromeda and so she decided one day to pick up the phone.
It rang, three times and it was all she could do to keep the excitement out of her voice.
"I wanna know where he is."
And of course, the voice told her.