The Rescuer (Alternate Title: The Rescuer and Her Family)
Disclaimer: I own none of Christopher Nolan's works. But I really want to hug the living daylights out of him for it. I also don't own the songs at the end.
1 (One; Un; Uno)
Of course, the first time they'd met, Veda instantly liked Eames. This was years ago, before Phillipa was even born, before her tremors began. Eames- she liked his joking, she liked his clothes, she liked the odd way he flipped his casino chip totem through his fingers. She was only nineteen, newly discovering the power sensuality could wield, and meeting new men still frazzled her and made her feel very much a woman, even if he was just being a gentleman. As she observed him, however, she realized that the man was far deeper (and therefore, more mysterious) than the average person. This made his mind more interesting to think about, which made him more interesting in general. And Veda needed interesting things and people in her life.
The first time she'd met Eames, they all went out to dinner- she, he, Cobb, and Arthur; they'd chosen to eat at a Japanese grill, one that made the food in front of you. They were going over the procedures of this job; they'd only been working together for a day or two. As the chef sliced, diced, and fired their food, Eames' eyes grew wide, and he began flirting with the chef. He was flirtatious with everyone, he was one of those types, but it seemed like he really meant it. He was excellent at what he did, the chef. Veda found herself staring at the movements of his hands, his boldness at handling the fire. And that was it. Eames was in awe.
So, after dinner, Veda said, "He was beautiful." Eames contemplated her for a moment, staring at her- not her face, but her. And finally, he smiled faintly and nodded.
"Isn't he, though?" He put his hand up to her ear, stroking the side of her face; his fingers finally landed on her dangling earring. He said, gazing with his odd, stone-colored eyes into her own, "These are beautiful, love."
"Thanks." That was the first night they slept together. Which was odd- Veda wasn't the type to just sleep with someone so carelessly, but she never needed someone so badly before. The door had been opened, and on the other side were waters with untold depth. She wanted to know what was in those waters that were Eames' persona.
It was cliché for someone to say that they were meant to be with another person. But oh, it was true in this case. His arms made the perfect cradle to hold her body while her head fit into the crook of his neck properly. Even their hands navigated their bodies with a strange innate knowledge, yet holding a bizarre sense of hesitancy. Their lips and hips and legs and arms molded exactly into each other's, and it felt too right. They nipped and groped at each other in the night for what seemed like days, trying to commit the other to memory and knowing they could never dream this up or replicate it.
And afterwards, when she thought maybe she'd done something horribly wrong, she felt his lips on her hip; it sent a surging tingle up and then back down her spine, landing between her legs. And she needed his body. Again.
"This tattoo. It's nice, love." His sore, reddened lips traced the winding, tree-like inking from her lower hip all the way up to her shoulder blade. Smiling goofily, Eames wrapped a muscular, warm arm around her, forcing her into him. She lifted her face, luring him in for another kiss; she realized she didn't care if it was wrong. And it couldn't be wrong, could it? All she wanted was what he had. But what it was that he had, though, was an enigma.
8 (Eight; Huit; Ocho)
Eames strolled idly into the lobby of the hotel; he'd just received a message from Yusuf that Cobb had woken from his coma. Out of habit, he scanned the area while heading for the elevators; someone caught his eye. Frowning, Eames took a detour to the café just off of the lobby. The smell of hot coffee and bakery goods filtered through his nose; the temperature was almost frigid as the vents were spewing air-conditioning into the establishment. He was almost to the object of his destination when he realized that there was something wrong.
Veda, sitting at a circular corner table, faced looking out the window, but Eames knew from her bare shoulders that she wasn't right. Her fingers traced the rim of a mug of steaming hot liquid. Eames guessed tea.
"Veda?" His fingers touched her shoulder's skin- sweaty, cold. She jerked to look at him. Veda was on the verge of tears. She took her whistle totem from her mouth.
"I don't know how I got here," she whispered, her big doe eyes were more tired, more wide than normal. She looked down at her cup. "I don't- I don't remember ordering this, putting sugar in it, or even- I don't- Thought I was dreaming-" She looked back up at Eames, tears streaming freely from her eyes that were now twitching. Her hand went up to her hair, for her sunglasses. She let out a sob. "I forgot them, didn't I?" She buried her face in her hands.
Swallowing back a strange, unwanted lump in his throat, Eames took a crisp ten-dollar bill out of his wallet and put it on the table. He shluffed off his sport jacket, seeing that Veda was shivering. He put it around her frame. He cleared his throat.
"C'mon, love. Let's get you back up to the room," he whispered. She held up a hand, telling him to wait. He knew she wanted the tremors to pass before they went into the lobby. A few minutes went by, and she stood, loosely taking his hand. Without a word, Eames moved her along. He entered the elevator and pressed the button for it to shut before anyone else could board. Eames took a sideways peek at her; Veda stared straight ahead, probably lost in thought. Eames followed her lead and looked ahead.
"Thanks," she finally said; they passed the third floor.
"I'm sure if Arthur or Ariadne saw you-"
"No, I mean, thanks. For being a constant in my life." She smiled up at him. His cheeks grew hot. He was a bit shocked, to say the least. "Everything just moves so fast, you know? Changing, moving, constant flux. I haven't had a house since me and Mal shared that stupid apartment in Paris." Fourth floor.
"I'll always be your anchor, love." He stroked her cheek. Veda stared at him seriously, mouth in a thin line, trying to figure out what he meant. He was always so convolutedly unclear with her. He swallowed, knowing that if he said what he was about to say, he couldn't go back. "You're the only woman that I'd want to have my children."
"You're the only man whose children I'd want to carry." Veda said this like it was obvious. But Eames was always slow to catch on with her (and vice versa), so this was news to him. Fifth floor.
"But I can't-"
"Marry me, I know that." Veda softened. "You're already married. Very married."
Eames nodded, thinking fleetingly of his docile, sickly wife in London. "But I can still be your anchor, love."
"It's okay. I'm the only person you call your love." Her grin widened, showing the entire top row of her pearly teeth. She grew serious again. "All I want is what you've got." Sixth floor, and the elevator dinged, letting in a couple and their three children. They'd just come in from the pool.
"Press the button with an eight on it, Hayley." The girl in pigtails smooshed her thumb into the button.
"Mommy, can we get ice cream?"
"Yes, Jay, after we have dinner."
"But first we've got to get all this chlorine off you guys."
"Papa, what makes elevators go up?" The small boy enunciated elevators, like he'd just learned the word. Veda and Eames simultaneously smiled. The father shifted his youngest son on his back while trying to explain to him what made elevators go up. The boy pretended like he understood.
The family left, leaving Veda and Eames in silence.
"What's your first name?" She asked suddenly.
"What's your last?"
"Brighton."
"Really? That's where I was born."
"Oh." Veda waited. "Aaand?"
"And what?"
"What's your first name?" Ninth floor.
"Ugh. Walter," he grumbled. Veda burst into giggles, putting her hand to her mouth. He was going to regret telling her.
"I wouldn't've pegged you as a Walter."
"You think my name's funny?"
She nodded. "It's definitely an old man name. Middle name?"
"David."
"Oh good. That's a much better name." Her face screwed into laughter again. "Walter David Eames." They arrived at the tenth floor, and she took off his jacket, handing it to him. "Thank you. Didn't realize I was cold 'til it was warm."
"You're welcome, love. Shall we see what the rest of the team is up to now that Cobb's awake?"
"Yes." They stepped out the elevator and went to the door. Eames faltered before opening it.
"You're alright, right?"
"I will be. Once I get some sleep. Really, I'm fine. Walter." She wiggled her eyebrows.
"Oh, God." Eames rolled his eyes. Yes, he regretted it.
"Don't worry, my middle name's Denali. Because that's where my parents conceived me. On the cliffs of a giant mountain in a flipping tent." Eames let out a giant heap of laughter as Veda rolled her eyes.
"Now that's bad." He pointed and laughed at her. "You're named after a place where your parents had sex."
"I like my name, thanks. Can we go in now?" Eames collected himself and exhaled.
"V, love, you know I love you, right?"
"I know. And I love you too, Eames." He bent down to his her lips. She tasted sweet, always sweet. Like honey.
"I will marry you some day. I promise," he breathed.
"I'll wait."
17 (Seventeen; Dix-Sept; Diecisiete)
Finally, Veda was able to relax; the party was going well. She sat down next to Ariadne, smoothing out her sundress. This table, set far back from the pool, had a shade.
"This is a nice party." Ariadne's eyes darted around. "The people, however."
"Yes."
"Do you hear what they say? I mean really. This town is so weird."
"Have I been called a tramp yet?" Veda had heard quite a bit. Mostly it was about the house, since this was the first time she'd held a real party.
"An escort. A very rich prostitute. Someone was trying to tell someone else that your twins have different fathers." Veda's eyebrows raised. "It was the bitch in the red halter top."
"Oh, she's just mad. I just told her child not to push other kids the pool. She gets points for creativity though."
"She's mad? Well if she wants her kid to kill someone, then okay." Veda smiled. "The caterer's good," said Ariadne, popping something into her mouth.
"Mhm."
"What's wrong?"
"Um- well, he's coming our way. Three o'clock." Mr. Edwards, the twins' teacher, carried flowers.
"Well then." Ariadne gave Veda a look. The hostess stood, smiling.
"Hi, William," greeted Veda.
"Hello, Veda. These're for you."
"Oh, these are pretty!" Veda took them. "Thanks. How are you?"
"Fine. You?"
"I'm good. Please, sit down. Oh, Ariadne, this is Mr. William Edwards, the kids' teacher. William, this is Ariadne, the twins' godmother."
"Oh, pleased to meet you."
"You too."
"Nice flowers," said Arthur. He came from the pool with the twins behind him.
"Arthur, this is Mr. William Edwards, their teacher. William, this is Arthur, Ariadne's husband."
"A pleasure," said Mr. Edwards, extending his hand. Arthur shook it.
"Likewise. Sorry to get your hand wet."
"It's fine. It's a pool party."
"Hi, Mr. Edwards," the twins said in unison.
"Hi." He smiled widely at them, eyes crinkling at the corners. Cayenne winced, her hair becoming twisted in her goggles when she tried to pull them off. Grayson's hand went up to her head and got it out.
"Auntie Ari, what time is it?" asked Cayenne, her fingers pulling on her platinum casino chip totem that hung around her neck. Grayson was touching his too.
"Three-oh-two," said Ariadne, glancing at her watch.
"Damien keeps saying Daddy won't come. I keep telling him he's wrong," said Grayson.
"He's very wrong," said Arthur suddenly, kneeling to Grayson. "Because he's right over there." Arthur pointed, his eyes going toward the side of the backyard away from the pool and nearer to the house.
"DADDY!" The twins gasped. A sudden hush fell over the party goers as little feet weaved through everyone. The people's eyes went to Eames who strode in large steps across the concrete, arms outstretched.
"PUPS!" When they met, Eames picked them both up in a way only he could achieve, sloppily hugging them and having a kiss for each one. The children began fawning over him as he lugged them back to where everyone else was.
"You broke his arm? Well, pup, that's just not fair, is it?"
"I guess not."
"Daddy, I wanna talk like you. All buttery."
"Me too!"
"Oh, pups, how you flatter me…"
"We're being honest," nodded Cayenne. Eames was very aware of the eyes on him from all angles, trying to peer into him and figure him out. He chuckled to himself, thinking that it was he who usually did the figuring.
"Alright, you have to come down now. I have to say hi to your mum." Veda was standing now, and she took a step forward. The twins squiggled out of their father's grip. Eames, still a few yards away from Veda, smiled a very devilish smile. Veda rolled her eyes, knowing he was going to do something-
"The beautiful mother of my children!" He announced, putting his arms around her and swooping her down to kiss her. Veda was laughing as he did it, as her legs were in the air. But he had her secure in his arms.
"Oh, Mr. Eames, put me down!" She heard her children giggle.
"As you wish, love." He put her down and winked at her. She shook her head and went back to sitting.
"You're such a showoff," Arthur disapproved.
"And you're no fun, darling." Eames turned to the Architect. "Hello, pet." The people around went back to partying, keeping an eye on him. "And these are nice flowers. Who're they for?"
"I gave them to the lady of the house," Mr. Edwards spoke up, getting to his feet.
"You did, did you?" Eames looked to Veda for an explanation.
"Eames, this is their teacher, William Edwards. William, this is-"
"Eames. Charmed." The two shook hands, gripping a little too tight.
"Mhm. It's nice to finally meet you." Mr. Edwards stepped over to the side. "I suppose I should be going. I'll be late for the evening class I teach."
"Bye, Mr. Edwards," said the twins.
"Bye. See you in school." He nodded to Veda, slowly turning pink, cleared his throat, and went on his way.
"What was his issue?" Eames asked.
"I think he liked Veda," Arthur replied, staring after Mr. Edwards.
"Really?" Eames scoffed. "Oh that is funny. He is so not your type."
One of Veda's eyebrows rose. "And what is my type?"
"Me, love. Who else?" Veda smiled.
...
Arthur bent down to kiss Ariadne's cheek, saying good morning. He looked around.
"Why aren't they in school?" wondered Arthur upon seeing the twins watching TV. It was a bright, sunny Monday morning. He went over to the coffee pot.
"Grayson was suspended, and Cayenne won't go anywhere without him," explained Veda. Arthur nodded, remembering. He put the mug of hot coffee to his lips and watched Ariadne and Veda talk in French. He only caught snippets of it, as he wasn't really paying attention to them, only the strange glittering coming from one of Veda's fingers; she kept moving it. Arthur's eyes widened, and he almost scalded his tongue upon realizing what that glittering meant. He set down his mug and cleared his throat.
"Where's Eames?"
"Porch." He gave Ariadne a knowing look before he strode out of the kitchen.
Eames was sitting on the long concrete bench, body turned and looking out on the beautiful wine country that was Sonoma. Arthur saw that he was smoking.
"You really should stop," advised Arthur, taking a spot next to him.
"I know. I don't do it quite as I much as I used to, though."
"Give me one."
"Arthur, dear, you smoke?" he asked, surprised. He pushed the pack on the banister over to Arthur.
"On occasion. Socially, I guess."
"Hm. The more you know." Arthur lit up and took a drag; he leaned on the back of the bench and concentrated on Eames' face.
"I'm sorry about your wife." A very shocked expression painted itself on Eames' face.
"And who told you about her?" He recovered.
"Ari and I were watching BBC News last night and they reported her funeral- we saw your face in the funeral processions, and they mentioned your name." Eames nodded. "Her name was Emma, right? I'm sorry she passed."
"Ah, don't be, darling. She'd been sick for years."
"And I also apologize-" Arthur caught Eames' eyes and stared directly into them- "for giving you such grief about you not marrying Veda. All these years, I didn't know."
"Hmph. Some Point Man you are-" Arthur cut his eyes at him- "But it's alright. I only told Veda. How did Ariadne take it?"
"She wasn't surprised- said she knew you both had reasons."
"Perceptive pup, isn't she?" Eames chuckled depreciatingly. "I was really forced into marrying Emma. When I was twenty, I'd been in the military for two years already when I was asked to join MI6. Couldn't say no- it was MI6. After a while, I was the best spy they had. And when I was twenty-three, I was put under some tests. Emma- she was Emma Maycombe then- was second in command of the testing facility. The head man was one of Miles' colleagues. Emma was the protégé of the inventor of dreamsharing. I forget his name. I had an aptitude for dreamscape, and you know where that went. Out of all my contemporaries- who were the best in Europe, mind you- only I could do what I did. So Em and I pretended to date, covering up what was really going on. I think for her, some bits of it were real. Things happened, my parents got involved, and I was stupid- I bloody listened to them- and I married Emma. Biggest fuck-up of my life. Shortly after, she got sick and couldn't dream anymore. Her body actually became allergic to the compounds. MI6 discharged us both honorably, saying they had others who could take over. I started dabbling in the criminal side of things. Then when I was twenty-five, when we were doing that one job, I met Veda. If I'd waited two years, I swear to God, I'd be married to V right now. I couldn't divorce Emma. That'd've been wrong- she needed me. So we were married eighteen years. Eighteen fucking years, and I was with Veda for sixteen of those." Eames put out his cigarette. "But I'm marrying her now." He lit up another.
"I saw the ring," nodded Arthur, feeling something like heartache for Eames. Veda too. For a criminal, Eames was truly an honest man.
"Yeah. We want a ceremony- for the kids' sake. You're gonna be my best man, right?"
"What? Me?"
"Oh come on, darling. You're a fantastic person, one of the smartest, most loyal men out there. Surely you knew we were friends?"
"Eames, I'm honored-"
"Oh hush, it's really because I don't know anyone else." Anyone else he trusted with his life, anyway.
"Hm, well, sure I'll be your best man."
"We don't know where it'll be yet. But it's definitely gonna be in December- new year's at midnight. I love fireworks."
"Mhm."
"Speaking of the future, we're going to pull the twins out of school."
"Good. I don't think they need it." Arthur shrugged. "Not public school, anyway."
"My sentiments exactly. As much as I love wine country- and you know how I love wine country- we're going to move. Veda's getting restless, and so am I. We don't know where yet, but the issue is-"
"-where do people like us go." Eames nodded wearily, running a hand through his hair. "Because there is no set place for us. We can't have deep roots- we've seen the world. All of it. And you can't just skip around, not with children." Arthur sighed, hesitating. "Ariadne's pregnant."
"Oh, congratulations, dear! Didn't know you were capable," he added mischievously, winking at Arthur.
"Ha. Ha."
"But you're right. Where do we go. And once we get there, how do we do what we do? Will we always want to be dreamers? Criminals, even?"
"Whatever it is, I hope that when we die, the profession dies with us." None of them had taken on protégés, even though they'd had offers. Arthur took a last drag of his cigarette and put it out.
"It won't." Eames turned around to face the house, gesturing toward the room with the TV in it. "They'll be dreamers. The somnacin did something to them. Everyone knows it. When they were in the hospital, the brain scans revealed heightened- very heightened- brain activity. You two- your baby'll be like that too. After a while, the somnacin binds with your blood. Yusuf told me- it's what he used his money from the Fischer job for. Mass trials of the effects on fetuses and children with dreaming mothers."
"Then James and Phillipa-?" Arthur thought a moment. "Hm, no. Cobb didn't let Mal dream during pregnancy… Ariadne was dreaming just this Friday. Fuck." Arthur thought of this unborn child, and the pain that was inevitable for him or her. "It'll never stop."
"No, darling it won't." A lump rose in Arthur's throat. "But, if it's any consolation, we'll love that baby like our own." It was.
"Because that's just how it is," murmured Arthur. He sighed. "We'll never belong."
"Well, that's not true, pet." Eames put out his cigarette and smiled mostly to himself. "We belong to each other." Eames looked as if he'd just stated something quite obvious. Arthur thought on it a moment and felt a wave of relief bathing his swirling emotions. They'd be alright.
"Daddy!" The door slid open, and the twins were there, holding hands. Ariadne and Veda were just steps behind them.
"Yeah, pups?" No answer from them. They just skipped over and hugged him. Tight. "Oi, what's this?" They loosened.
"'Cause we love you," replied Grayson, grinning in a way that only a child could. Cayenne nodded, big doe eyes looking up at her father.
"Oh, come here." He hugged them tightly. Ariadne wrapped her arms around Arthur, settling onto part of the bench and curled one of her legs around his. His lips brushed against her forehead. Veda slipped in between Eames and Arthur, pulling Grayson on her lap and linking arms with the two men beside her. Cayenne scrambled into her father's lap as well.
"We make such a great family, don't you think?" Veda said softly.
"The best, love." Eames leaned over and kissed her cheek. Arthur nodded, and Ariadne's face was shining with a smile.
A family of dreamers sat together in silence, unafraid of their uncertain future. Finally, it seemed like they'd filled the hole that they'd so desperately wanted to fill when they started dreaming. The irony of it all lay in the fact that the dreamers were very much awake.
End
Closing Remarks: I hope you enjoyed it. Please review. I like those things. Some things I'd like to say:
I've got a playlist for this story, with these songs: "Creator" by Santigold ... "Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien" by Edith Piaf (of course) ... "Dreaming with a Broken Heart," "Assassin," and "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room" by John Mayer ... "After You Fall Asleep" and "Just a Feeling" by TaeYang of BigBang ... "There Is a Light that Never Goes Out" by The Smiths (500 Days of Summer elevator song) ... "Canvas" and "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap... and then two other songs.
These two other songs are basically the poster songs for the story:
"Speeding Cars" by Imogen Heap: This song, to me, is beautiful in its sad way. This exemplifies the relationship that all of them had together. And in the last scene, I thought of "I've watched you slowly winding down for years; You can't keep on like this; Now's a bad a time as any" as a dialogue from Eames to Veda. And the "None of us were angels, and you know I love you, yeah" is how I felt everyone felt about everyone else.
"All I Want" by Ahn Trio & Susie Suh: The song demonstrates the relationship between Eames and Veda. I saw the dance on So You Think You Can Dance (Kayla and Brandon!), and I cried. Eames disappointed Veda; he knew he couldn't give her what she wanted. But all she wanted was what he had.
So yes, this is done, my dears! Thanks for reading. Much love.