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Oh, yes! This chapter was weird to write. The Derek part, I mean. Hope you like it!
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Love,
Isadora
Chapter 9 - Two calls
Eames was on the phone when Cobb woke up from the dream. The soft memory of being in pain vanished from his mind. He had to do it, and the Architect was pretty fast, not letting he feel the burning ache rise to his entire arm. The Extractor looked at them, Ariadne and Arthur would be down in the Dream for a few more minutes. He wondered what they would be doing at this moment...
A low laugh got his attention. The Forger was amused. He had a sly smile on his face while talking to whoever was on the line. Cobb only discerned a few "yes" and "oh, good". It was a relief to know that he wasn't that stressed out about who did that to their Architect. He was, at first, but now he was happy that she was fine. And Dom knew that Eames also saw something different lingering between Arthur and Ariadne from time to time.
The Englishman closed his phone and went to the sand-haired man direction.
"We have a party to attend."
"What?"
"Olivia called. She'll send the invitations." he sat, making himself comfortable, besides the two bodies still dreaming. "Having the time of their lifes, aren't they?"
"I hope so." a small grin crossed Arthur's features.
"Probably." the Point Man said, the moment he opened his eyes. He helped Ariadne with the needles, she had a confused – yet delighted – expression.
"Don't make any plans for friday." Eames said, eyeing the Architect with an suspicious frown. "What you two were doing? I guess it was something... naughty!"
"Nothing of your concern." Arthur's voice was annoyed.
"Why friday?" the petit woman asked.
"It was something dirty." the Forger muttered before changing the subject. "We have a party. Olivia called. She'll send us the shining cards."
"Did she say why?"
"No. She'll send a note with it, I'm sure." Eames shrugged. This didn't matter. They had a party to go, which means drinks and women.
Arthur left them and went to his place in the warehouse. He was still worried that a psychopath ran through Parisian streets trying to stab somebody. They had searched and nothing came out. Just the empty, soundless whisper of a freak, a non-named freak. He sighed. At least Ariadne was alright now.
In this last training dream, was the first time they had talked after his words in the hospital. He was afraid that she would bring the subject up. But now, he realized that the only time that they really talked was when they were in a dream. Which gave a surrealist sight to whatever relationship they had. If they had something. He was unwilling to agree to that.
"Cobb." the Point Man called, waving his hand at him. "Did you find something weird at Olivia's house?" he said, after Dom was at his side.
"No. Not at her house. But, now that you've said, I saw somebody very odd." he organized his thoughts, remembering everything from the night that he had given the news to theirs employer. "Her son had ludicrous expression. As if he was trying not to laugh. But, what disturbed me the most was his eyes."
"Hmm."
"He had Mal's eyes. I guess that was why I felt something oozing from him. You know, when Mal was still alive."
Arthur nodded. Cobb was still very attached to his dead wife, he couldn't blame him, she was lovely, and her eyes were very intriguing. Derek Carey-Lewis was a typicall wealthy son, very non-worried about their parents life, except for the money. Nothing to worry about, but still...
Eames was left alone with the Architect. She was organizing the PASIV, when she heard his breath in her ear.
"Now darling, tell me what you were doing."
"Only training, Eames."
"What a training that must have been! Tell me the truth or I'll think worse of it." he said, playfully.
"I shot him."
"Ariadne! I didn't think that you'd be such a psychopath to be pleased that you'd killed somebody." she rolled her eyes. He was pulling her leg and she knew it. Telling more would only make the situation worst for her and Arthur. "He kiss you, didn't he, darling?" he said after a moment.
She had to control the urge to touch her cheek. That tiny moment when his lips met her skin, she felt a warm wave in her face. As if a billion of needles were pressed on her flesh, where she couldn't feel the pain, only the warmth of it.
"No. We didn't."
"There is a we?" he chuckled, a rusky sound. "He is faster than I thought!"
"No! There is no 'we'. And there was no kiss. Just... a training lesson." she almost yelled, mostly trying to states that for herself. Why she said 'we'?
"If you say so."
The Forger left the room with a mischievous smile.
He was drinking his tea when something caught his attention. It was the daily newspaper, laying on the polished center table of the living room.
Derek left the cup and went to pick it up. The unpleasant smell of it filled his mind, there was a few drops of coffee on it, making it appears like a burned creamy paper. "Family greed: wife gets the company" was the major headline. Black tint printed hard on the paper.
It was like a bright light shining in a dark room. He started reading, already knowing what he would see. His mother's words were quoted, terrifying phrases: "My husband didn't think that my beloved son would be the right one to deal with the Carey-Lewises Robotic company." and "I always thought that he could do it, but his father saw other things."
"This couldn't be true!" he thought. Derek saw Cobb at his door, without a satisfying expression. He couldn't be delivering a pleasant new. He knew that the Extractor hadn't finished the Extraction. He stabbed that girl, for God's sake! There was no way that they have found out his dad's worst secrets.
But yet, they have. And now, Derek didn't have his part of the company. He was... lost. His mother wanted him to have nothing, she wanted the company for herself. His brain was covered with anger. He, Derek Carey-Lewis, had failed. With his dad, with himself. And now, he would pay.
"Not so fast." his mind interjected. He still had a chance to set everything right.
Nobody was at home, except for him and a couple of butlers. His eyes scanned the room, it was still afternoon, he could catch his source at work. But first, he had to organize his thoughts, make a plan. The perfect plan, flawless, spotless.
He ran, absently, his fingers through his dark hair. There wasn't much time. Derek went upstairs and locked his door. He grabbed a paper and started covering it with blue ink.
A plan was already taking shape in his mind.
"Hello." it was a hard voice.
"Who is it?" Cobb demanded.
"Don't you remember me, Mr. Cobb? What a shame!" he paused. "But I'll enlighten you. I'm the one who wasn't supposed to find out your dirty job."
"Derek." the Extractor said. He could feel the piercing green eyes watching him when he left Olivia's house. He was wrong, his eyes didn't remind him of Mal's. But his shade of Mal. A cold – yet electric – glare.
"Very nice. I can say that you are good with challenges." his tone made Dom's skin shiver; as if some disgusting insect was crawling in the inside of it.
"What do you want?"
"Just one thing. My challenge for you." he played with the words. "I suppose that you have already seen the papers... Would you like to guess what I want? "
Cobb didn't answer a thing. The words weren't getting any shape, there was a tremendous wall blocking his thought. The others were staring frantically at him, he was never that harsh while talking to the phone.
"No? What a bad player, Mr. Cobb." Derek chuckled. "Do put this on speaker. I want all your team to hear it." Cobb did what he was told, he didn't have any other choice. If he refused to do it, Derek would probably talk só loudly that it would deafen him.
"Hello, Cobb's team." the mark's son had a amused tone in his voice. A sick psychotic tone. "Can you hear me well?"
"Who are you?" Eames snapped.
"I guess you can. But, Mr. Cobb didn't tell you?" he sighed. "I'm Derek Carey-Lewis. You probably have my life history."
Ariadne stiffens with terror, muting a low shriek with her hand, while Arthur shifted uncomfortably at his chair. That man wasn't supposed to find anything out. "What had gone wrong?" was what every single person in the empty warehouse was thinking.
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