A/N Sorry for the delay- aside from my usual excuses of work and life, I was working on my TDKR fic and Chapter 12 of this story. Then I realized it was time for a vignette! Here's a peak into Matt and Ana and their relationship with Arthur.

The Tremont Twins

Matt

Arthur supposed he'd been waiting for this moment since he told Ana the truth about his college plans.

"You lying shit," Matt said, rubbing his knuckles. Arthur looked up at him from the sidewalk where he'd collapsed after the other boy punched him in the face. "I hope I broke something."

Arthur reached up and touched his cheek gingerly. Matt hadn't pulled his punch and Arthur's eyes watered at the pain that rang through his head. He looked around their quiet neighborhood and knew Matt had attacked him specifically at this time because most of the adults were at work and it was too early for everyone else to be up and about during summer vacation.

Arthur ran in the mornings. Matt had known all of this and more about Arthur.

He loomed over him now, all traces of his characteristic friendliness gone. He was suddenly a very real threat: a six-foot tall jock with a chip on his shoulder. Arthur could fight; at eighteen, he was still growing into himself but his father made sure his only son could defend himself. However, Matt worked out regularly and at that moment, he was pissed off.

"I'm definitely going to have a black eye," Arthur said. He could feel the side of his face already swelling and he wiped his hands on his track pants. "But sorry to say, no cracked bones."

"My baby sister didn't come down for dinner last night because of you," Matt said in a low, dangerous voice.

Arthur closed his mouth, tasting blood, but said nothing.

Ana was always going to be Matt's baby sister and he was always going to be her big brother, no matter how old they were. Arthur knew that his over-protectiveness sometimes frustrated her but it was overlooked because he was so obviously proud of his sister.

"I didn't mean–"

"No, you've done enough talking." Matt pointed his finger at Arthur. "You've done enough lying. You lied to Ana, been lying to her for months! You got her hopes up and then you just stomped all over them like she was nothing."

Arthur drew in a shuddering breath. "Matt, she's not nothing to me. You know this."

"I had to watch her hold back her tears," Matt said. "My sister was trying to be strong in front of me because you hurt her."

For a moment, Arthur stared at Matt's sneakers. They were still untied which likely meant he'd rushed out of his house the moment he caught sight of Arthur.

Ana never cried.

To know that she'd come close because of something he did made Arthur felt sick.

"You know, I actually thought you were a good guy, Arthur," Matt said. "And I thought for sure you'd treat her well but you just led her on this whole time. What was it like? Watching her get all excited, knowing that every single word out of your mouth was a lie. Did you get off on knowing you'd hurt her, you little shit? Did my baby sister entertain you?"

"Christ, of course not!" Arthur cried out. He got to his feet and Matt curled his hands into fists.

Arthur held his ground. He was a few inches shorter and several pounds lighter than Matt but he'd never been one to back down.

"I didn't want to hurt her," he said. "And yeah, I lied but I don't have the same luxury you and Ana have. My father expects things from me, Matt, and you and Ana have no idea what tradition means in my family. You have no idea and you wouldn't understand so that's why I didn't tell her sooner. You don't know the pressure…"

Arthur's voice cracked and he wiped his nose with the back of his hand, grimacing at the mixture of blood and snot that streaked his skin.

"You're eighteen, Arthur." Matt uncurled his fists and now he looked confused as well as angry. Even now, he was reasonable, willing to listen, and it made Arthur feel worse. "We've talked about this. You're an adult now. That means–"

"It means I'm going to West Point, that's what it means," Arthur said. "That's the only thing it means."

"Did you have to lie then? You saw how happy she was. She chose Maryland because it was close to our families, because of you. She could have gone anywhere but she stayed here because of you."

Arthur sucked in a cold breath and closed his eyes briefly. The guilt and shame he felt at that moment was nearly overwhelming.

"She's scared." Matt shook his head and for a moment, he looked defeated. A big brother who could do nothing to help his sister. "Ana's scared she's going to be so homesick but she thought she'd have you and that made everything better. You took that away from her, Arthur. She thought you'd be there."

His face twisted up into anger again. "But I guess she just doesn't compare to tradition right? You could have told her sooner and maybe let her get used to the idea but no. You decided to be a coward. That was your choice to make."

He looked back at his house across the street and clenched his jaw. "She thought you were hiding something from her. For months, she knew something was up. Hell, even I noticed but we figured you were our friend. You'd tell us if there was something wrong. Annie respected you and you just threw that back in her face."

"She has you," Arthur said weakly. "She won't be alone."

Matt's face darkened when he looked back at Arthur. "Shut up. You're going to make things right. I don't care how you do it but I'm putting you on watch right now. You're going to get on your knees and grovel and make things right for her."

"I figured you wouldn't want me to talk to her at all."

"If it were up to me, you'd never talk to her again but it isn't. Ana loves you. It would hurt her more if she thought you were ignoring her, even though this is your fault. You'll break her heart more if you ignored her."

Arthur's eye was swollen almost shut at that point and his throbbing cheek made his head feel as if it were caught in a vice. He needed to get ice on it before it got worse.

He didn't move.

"You have to believe that I would never… The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. But she was so happy and I just… I couldn't. I just couldn't."

"I don't want to hear it," Matt said. The heat and fire in his face disappeared and there was only a deep chill in his eyes. He looked at Arthur, looked through him like he was nothing. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say. But if you brush off Ana, if you hurt her again, I will come after you, do you understand?"

"I won't. I wouldn't."

"Good," Matt said. He studied Arthur for a moment, tilting his head to the side with narrowed eyes. It was a familiar expression; Ana would often stare at people with the same cool scrutiny when she disliked them. Matt was kinder, softer-hearted than Ana though, so to see that look on his face made Arthur uneasy. "Did you think I was blind all these years? I know how you feel about my little sister. This stunt you just pulled? Pretty much proves you don't deserve her. You're garbage, you're nothing to me or my family from now on."

Arthur's chest tightened until he felt as if he couldn't breathe. He drew in a deep breath and then another, but each one he took in seemed to burn his lungs.

His eyes grew hot and wet.

With a satisfied expression, Matt took a step back and then turned around, headed back towards his house.

"Matt, wait!"

Arthur reached a hand out for the closest thing to a brother he'd ever known. Matt Tremont was the boy who'd helped him fix his bike when he ran it into a ditch, the boy who'd always chosen him first for his line-up in gym class, and went running with Arthur in the winter, just so he wouldn't be alone when it got too dark. Ana was his best friend and no one even came close to her, but he knew he could always turn to Matt just the same.

"I'm sorry to you, too," Arthur said. "I'm sorry I lied to you, too."

Matt didn't turn around. He kept walking.

Ana

Arthur knew something was wrong the moment Ana came out of the dream.

He timed it perfectly so that he could keep watch over her when she was just about to open her eyes. Once Ana went under for test runs, he'd set his watch by the PASIV's timer.

This time wasn't any different.

Three.

Two.

One.

Ana's eyes opened and for a moment, everything seemed as it should be. He knew her habits by now – upon waking, she'd take a quick look at her surroundings before sitting up and going through her experience with the rest of the team.

So this time, when Ana turned her head to the side to look at their architect to her left, Arthur felt a sliver of disquiet run through him.

"Hey, that was cool," Loren said, opening his eyes a second later. He turned to Ana and grinned. "Did you like the carousel I added? The unicorns were a nice touch, right?"

Ana smiled wanly at him and Arthur hurried towards her, dropping his notebook on the desk. She turned to him when he knelt down beside her seat, gently pulling the IV line out of her arm.

"You okay?" Arthur murmured, low enough so that only Ana would hear him. She stared at Arthur and he realized with growing worry that she looked tense.

She's frightened

Ana swallowed and shook her head once, before looking back at Loren.

"That was awesome what you did down there, by the way," Loren was saying as he removed his own line. "That trick with the projections? That was cool."

Arthur just barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. Though Loren was the same age as Arthur, he acted years younger, speaking as if he were still a teenager. He was talented and sharp though; even though Eames had offered to play both a forger and the architect for the job, Arthur preferred to keep the two separate.

"Thank you," Ana said. Loren flashed her one more grin before getting up and walking over to his drafting table, presumably to touch up his designs.

"What happened down there?" Arthur said, as he stood up to roll the line back into the device. Ana looked at Loren with a frown and shook her head again, deep in thought.

"I saw something," she said, turning back to Arthur.

"In the dream?"

Ana nodded and stood up, straightening her skirt distractedly.

"He's hiding something," she said, staring down at her shoes. She had worn high heels that day and was eye level with Arthur.

"Should we drop him?" He unreservedly trusted her; if Ana said they needed to pull out, he would without question.

It would be a pain to settle with the client but we'd be better off, Arthur thought.

"Give me a few minutes," she said, frowning again.

Before Arthur could respond, he saw Eames walk towards them from the corner of his eye.

Over the past four months Arthur had found and secured more intricate, complex jobs for him and Ana. He sensed that she was growing distant and Arthur was worried that she was becoming bored with ordinary extraction.

He understood his own motivations, of course – he was trying to keep up her level of interest in order to keep her by his side. He felt that if he didn't, if he once again failed to give her something worth having, then Ana would walk away from him. The initial rush of dreaming was fading; while Ana could get intensely focused on a single subject or idea to the point of exclusion of everything else, Arthur also knew she had a relatively short attention span.

The need to impress, to keep, had made him take on flashier jobs. Jobs that required more than one level at times and bigger teams. Jobs that paid well but had more undesirable elements. It was fine, Arthur could juggle multiple variables at once – all he was really worried about was Ana's lack of enthusiasm towards the jobs he now chose.

"You tell me the minute you think something is wrong," Arthur said. He leaned forward so that his mouth was at her ear as Eames approached, and placed his hand on her arm. "We can let this one go."

"It's something unrelated to the job," she said. He could see the fear in her eyes grow. "I thought I saw–"

"Problem?" Eames said, with a raised eyebrow.

Arthur scowled and ducked his head, leaning back as Ana glanced at the other man.

Eames was the other reason why Arthur was concerned. It wouldn't have escaped Ana's notice that Eames was a natural leader. He effortlessly took command of the jobs they worked on. Arthur was no slouch in strategy but Eames was creative. He preferred to do things with flair than take the straightforward route, as Arthur was more inclined to do.

It burned every time Ana went to Eames for advice or used him as a sounding board for her leaps of deduction. Granted, she still stuck by Arthur and deferred to his decisions over Eames', but Arthur knew the other man was angling for a way into her affections – both personal and professional.

"Ana saw something that was off in the dream," Arthur said.

"Loren bad then, pet?" Eames said, keeping his gaze focused on Ana.

Instead of responding, Ana shrugged and headed back towards her desk near Loren. Eames narrowed his eyes at the brush off. He made as if he were going to follow her but Arthur grabbed his arm.

"Hey, drop it," Arthur said. "She'll tell me if there was really something to worry about."

"It's not just that. She's terrified, Arthur, look at her eyes," Eames said, shaking off his hand. "I think that's definitely something for us to worry about. Unless you haven't noticed, that sort of reticence is wholly unlike her."

"Of course I've noticed," Arthur said. He shook his head, annoyed at Eames' implication. "But I trust her."

The matter was closed until Ana took it up again. It was that simple.

Without another word, Arthur turned his back on Eames, returning to his desk. He picked up his notebook and flipped through it, trying to find where he left off.

It was the reason why Eames was the one who saw Ana attack their architect.

Arthur heard a loud crash, a scream of surprise and pain, and then the stomach-churning sound of flesh being hit. He whirled around and saw Eames moving across the room and before he could think about it, he was sprinting after him.

Ana wasn't a fighter. She knew how to handle guns; she had a steady aim, so she could defend herself if needed. She often came into jobs armed, choosing clothing to ensure her weapons stayed hidden and out of sight. Arthur had tried to make sure each job they had wouldn't necessitate a weapon though, so he'd never really seen what she could do beyond a gym or range.

But he'd never seen her provoked.

Ana was straddling Loren's waist, her skirt hiked up and her shoes kicked off. She had one hand clenched around his throat, fingers digging into his flesh, and Arthur could hear Loren gurgle as he fought to breathe. He was trying to pull Ana's hand off his throat but Arthur could tell that he was more afraid of the Glock 23 pressed firmly against his right eye.

It was obvious that she'd attacked him by surprise and that she'd hit him with her gun repeatedly. There were bits of hair and flesh on the handle and barrel and her fingers were stained a dark red.

She's going to kill him.

Ana had trigger discipline practically drilled into her brain. She knew the only time to put her finger on the trigger was when she intended to fire. Arthur felt his heart stop as he stared at the gun in her hand.

"You bastard!" she screamed, pushing her gun deeper into his eye cavity. "That was my brother! I'll kill you for that, that was my brother!"

Loren bucked up, trying to throw her off. Arthur could see tears and blood streaming down his cheeks. His nose was crooked and his cheek was most likely shattered from the sick, sunken look of his face.

"Ana, calm down," Arthur said, holding up his hands as he approached her. Her mouth was set in a snarl and her eyes looked crazed, as if she was barely in control of herself. "Put the gun away. We'll make sure Loren talks."

He did something to her brother.

Big mistake.

Arthur knew Matt's wife was expecting. Though he hadn't spoken to the man since the summer before college, he'd kept tabs on her family, making sure that they were healthy and happy and completely in the clear of the dreamshare underworld. Matt Tremont was a professor of comparative literature at Georgetown. He'd been married for nearly six years and he and his wife were expecting their first child. Ana's first niece or nephew.

Matt, and now Sandra and the new baby, were the only family Ana had left since their parents' death.

If Loren had done recon on Matt…

She'll kill him before he can tell us why.

"He's seen them!" Ana said, almost hysterical. "He knows about the baby, he's seen their faces! He knows where they live, Arthur. I can't let him go, I won't."

She looked back down at Loren who was now choking, his face turning a dark red. Ana's eyes seemed to burn with rage and sheer terror.

"I won't either," Arthur said calmly. He took a step forward. "But we should ask him some questions. Figure out how he found out and if anyone else knows."

Ana's head jerked up again, her mouth an open O of shock. "Anyone else? Oh God, what if–"

Eames moved from behind Ana and jerked her up, pinning her arms down in a bear hug. Arthur steeled himself for the sound of gunfire but she dropped her weapon. Arthur rushed forward, picked it up and then put his foot over Loren's neck where Ana had gripped him. The other man was in no position to fight back – he looked up at Arthur blearily, gasping as air rushed back to his lungs.

Arthur aimed the gun at his face. "Don't."

Ana kicked her legs back trying to drop Eames, trying to find traction, but Eames crouched over her so that she was bent forward with his body draped over her back. Her arms were crossed over her chest and his hands circled her wrists like cuffs.

"Listen to me," he said with a steady voice, even as she fought against him. "We're going to make sure Loren tells us everything, do you hear? He won't leave this warehouse until he does, and even then we may not let him leave at all. But you've got to stop fighting me and relax. Relax."

For a moment it seemed that Ana was going to ignore him, hissing and spitting like a feral cat. But after a few minutes, she finally settled down. Eames let her go and took a step back though he stayed close. She stood still, swaying slightly, staring at Arthur with eyes so wide they were nearly round.

"Arthur," she said his name brokenly, her chest heaving with the struggle.

Arthur nodded briskly, knowing what he had to do next.

"Eames, get her out of here," he said, turning back to Loren. "I'm going to deal with this."

"Arthur," Ana said his name again and he saw with no small amount of alarm that she was now shaking badly and her face had gone an unhealthy white. Her legs buckled and Eames caught her before she could collapse.

"Looks like it's you she wants," Eames said, too lightly to be truly casual. His gaze settled on Loren and his expression grew sharp. "Never fear, I'll take care of our erstwhile architect."

Arthur added more pressure on Loren's throat with his heel as he watched Eames whisper into Ana's ear. She closed her eyes and nodded once, turning around in his arms so that she could no longer see Loren or Arthur.

When he was sure she could stand on her own, Eames let her go and pulled out his own side arm, gesturing for Arthur to move away from Loren.

"Take her back to the hotel," Eames said as he and Arthur switched places. His face was almost emotionless as he spoke. "I'll come by when I'm done with him and tell you what I know."

"Stanto's close by. He might be interested in the job. You'll play extractor for now," Arthur said. He unloaded the gun in his hand and pocketed the bullets. He wasn't going to give it back to Ana loaded in her state.

Leaning forward so that only Eames and Loren could hear him, Arthur added, "If it comes to it, there's a landfill about two and a half miles east. No surveillance."

Eames nodded and Loren's eyes seemed to bulge from his face.

Without looking back, he walked towards Ana and guided her out of the warehouse, leaving Eames to finish what Arthur felt was his right, his responsibility to handle.

###

"How is she doing?"

Eames locked the door behind him and looked around the quiet hotel room. It was Ana's room but there was no way Arthur would have left her by herself. Arthur leaned back from his place on the couch and closed his laptop, mindful of her feet on his lap. As he took off his suit jacket, Eames' gaze was fixed on the sleeping body nearly obscured by a thick pile of blankets next to Arthur.

Arthur studied the other man, noting that his knuckles were badly bruised and there was a spot of blood high up on his wrinkled sleeve. Otherwise though, Eames was spotless.

He was a professional after all, and Arthur expected no less from him.

"Sedated," Arthur replied. "I thought about heading out tonight but I don't think she's in any condition for a long flight."

Eames frowned. He looked away from Ana and pressed his lips together when he saw the half-empty mug of hot chocolate on the side table closest to her. There was a plate of untouched pastries and Eames let out a loud breath.

"Was that necessary?" he asked.

"I know what I'm doing, Eames."

Ana hadn't stopped shaking, even after they were safely back in her room. In fact, her hysteria intensified. Arthur helped her change into warmer attire and wrapped her up in all the blankets he could find, afraid that she was going into shock.

She babbled hysterically about Matt and Sandra, staring at Arthur with a face that suddenly looked years younger. It was as if fear had turned her back into a child. She couldn't stop moving, couldn't keep herself from twisting her fingers together or from looking around the room as if ready to bolt and Arthur could tell that she was working herself up into a full blown panic attack.

She would have fought him if he'd given her pills or a syringe so Arthur had called up room service and ordered her favorite sweets.

Watching her drink hot chocolate from the mug as he held it up for her had made something inside Arthur's chest twist and tighten. She trusted him and when the sedative he slipped into her drink began to work, Ana simply laid on the couch and fell asleep without a fuss.

So yes, Eames, it was necessary.

Don't question me when it comes to Ana.

"Do you?" Eames asked. He narrowed his eyes. "Ana and her brother wouldn't happen to be twins, would they?"

Arthur blinked in surprise. As far as he knew, Eames didn't know anything about Ana's background. He'd made sure that her information was buried just as well as his own history was.

"Yes," he said carefully.

Eames went on. "He has a wife. She's four months pregnant, barely showing."

"Loren knew all this?" Arthur asked and Eames nodded. "How? Who was he working for?"

"Fortunately for us he was in business for himself. Thought he could pull our dear little Ana in for a job. High stakes stuff in Egypt but he knew you wouldn't go for it," Eames said. He took a step towards the sleeping figure and stopped, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand tiredly. "So he decided to take the direct approach."

"And how'd he know about her brother?"

At this Eames looked at Arthur and grinned nastily. There was something mean in the expression, as if Eames knew something Arthur didn't and it was bad.

"When Ana was a child, she wore her hair back in a ponytail. And they held hands when they could, when they walked side by side – little Ana and little Matthew."

"How did you–"

"You need to keep your projections in check, Arthur," Eames said. The smile disappeared and the odd, blank expression returned. Arthur knew what it meant; Eames was angry.

"The job you did in Iceland. You were the dreamer on the second level, weren't you?"

"Get to the point and stop asking questions you clearly know the answers to," Arthur snapped.

"Alright, then," Eames said. He sat down on the low coffee table and stared at the back of Ana's head, rubbing his lips with the tips of his fingers. "There was a park on that level but it wasn't what Loren had planned and he noticed. You created it from a memory, one that was strong enough to supersede whatever design you were meant to use. I bet you didn't even notice."

Arthur said nothing but a dawning horror washed over him.

"So he went exploring while the rest of your team was actually working. He saw two children, a boy and girl and it didn't escape his notice that the little girl looked very, very familiar."

Loren found them through me.

Because I'd been sloppy.

But the rational part of Arthur knew that wasn't the entire truth. For all science knew about the mind, unpredictability was the only real constant in dreams. Sometimes, ideas or even memories were more powerful than consciousness and lucid dreaming was forced to take a back seat to the older, stronger unconscious.

"When he went to question her though, her brother shot him," Eames said. He glanced at Arthur and snorted. "Vicious little brat, no? Still, Loren saw the logo on the sweater Matthew had been wearing. It was for a grade school in Virginia state. Didn't take much more than that to track him down."

"And Loren didn't tell anyone else?" Arthur asked, swallowing down the lump that had formed.

"He didn't," Eames said. "And he knew there was no point in lying to me. I know where his own boy lives, after all."

"Jesus Christ, Eames," Arthur said.

He heard Ana sniffle then and her feet twitched. Arthur gently stroked one sock-clad foot, looking over to her face, half covered in blankets.

In a quieter voice, Arthur said, "What did you do with him?"

"He's been handled," Eames said, after a short silence. "Clean up's done. Have you taken care of everything else?"

"Stanto's in," Arthur said. "We'll move our work to another space, farther downtown tomorrow. The sooner we can wrap this up, the sooner I can get Ana home. I don't want her traveling alone."

"No rush," Eames said, almost breezily. "Like I said, it's been handled. We're in the clear."

Arthur shook his head at Eames. While Arthur was no stranger to violence, he and Eames held different opinions on dealing with threats. He couldn't say for sure what he would have done to Loren to ensure his silence but Eames always favored the permanent solution.

Eames opened his mouth to say something else when Ana began to fuss, moving sluggishly as she rose to consciousness. Before Arthur could react, Eames leaned forward and placed his hand on her cheek.

"Easy there," he murmured. "You're alright, just open your eyes. There you are."

Ana blinked up at Eames, her full lips parted. Her eyes were glassy and Arthur could tell she was still very much under the effects of the sedative. She'd go back to sleep in a few minutes, whether or not she wanted to.

She leaned forward and looked at Arthur, who squeezed her ankle. "Hey," he said. "Go back to sleep."

"Staying?" Ana asked. Her eyes were so dilated they were nearly black.

"Yeah, I'm not going anywhere," Arthur said. He ran his hand over the length of her leg over the blanket and back. "We're good."

"Matty?" Ana frowned. Her words slurred together as if her tongue was too thick for her mouth. "Matt. We need to make sure… Make sure he's…"

"He's safe, too," Eames said. Ana turned back to look at him as if she'd forgotten he was there. He ran his fingers lightly though her hair, tangled as it was. "No one's going to find him. Loren will never go after him."

"Loren won't?" Ana asked. Her face was already becoming slack again and Arthur could tell she was struggling to stay awake. Her head dropped back onto the pillow but she stared up at Eames. "He'll leave us alone?"

"Loren will never come after you or your family," Eames said firmly. "And no one else will, either. Everyone's safe, Ana."

His thumb traced her hairline and Eames' face looked almost tender as he looked down at her.

"Your eyes feel heavy, don't they?" he said, dropping his voice down a note. "Don't fight it. It's alright to go back to sleep. Loren's gone and your family is safe. Don't you fight. Close your eyes."

Ana blinked again and she licked her lips. "But how? How… How did he… He know..."

Eames gave Arthur a sidelong glance before turning back to Ana.

"He got lucky. And for the most part, he was bluffing. He didn't really know anything." The lie came out easily, smoothly, but most importantly – convincingly. "I promise I'll tell you all about it later, my brave girl. For now, you just close your eyes."

Ana gave Eames a small, painfully sweet smile. She turned her head towards his hand and slowly, slowly fell back to sleep.

Eames continued to stroke her brow with his fingertips even though Arthur knew his hands were probably aching. The knuckle on his left hand was beginning to swell but still, Eames stayed focused on her face until it was clear she was out.

"You can wash up in the bathroom," Arthur said.

To his surprise, Eames bent down and pressed his lips against her cheek. He closed his eyes briefly, whispering something in her ear before standing up and walking to the bathroom, rolling up his sleeves as he left.

For a moment, Arthur could only curl his hands into fists and try to calm the angry beating of his heart by breathing in and out, in and out.

###

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