Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She kept seeing him, long after the Fisher job, long after dropping into Limbo, long after everything.

A man. A man with dark black hair and a crisp-pressed suit that fit perfectly over his thin frame.

He rarely smiles and she sees him a few more times over months before she dares to strike up a conversation.

”Hello.” He glances up from his glass of whiskey at the bar. He doesn’t react like a normal projection would. Ariadne is tempted to walk away, to wake up when he doesn’t respond immediately and just stares.

”Hello.”

”Who are you?” She sits next to him on his left.

”No one.” He takes another sip of his drink.

”You have to be someone; you’re not a projection. I know you from somewhere…I swear I do.” She trails off and much to her chagrin, he only stares.

”I’m sorry?” He raises an single eyebrow as Ariadne groans in frustration.

She wakes a few moments later in her apartment, no less confused than before.

-:-

Cobb said he was out of the business; he retired. He calls Ariadne for a job six months later despite that.

Walking into an warehouse in California, she spots Cobb along with the ever charming Mr. Eames. His hair is combed to the side and his colorful shirt unbuttoned to his waist where it is tucked into his jeans. He grins.

”Mr. Eames,” she greets him with a nod.

Shaking her hand, he reply that, “Eames is just fine.” He laughs and sits down to wait for Cobb to start briefing them about the job.

-:-

The hotel lights are blinding. Smoke and the quiet hum of people sitting around tables placed before a stage bring the room to life.

Cobb, seated on the other side of the room against a wall, tries to start up a conversation with their mark, the young son and heir of an American CEO. The mark watches the man singing on stage with mild interest. Cobb is gently trying to draw his attention back in.

The singer on stage is rather beautiful, Ariadne muses. She tries to catch a glimpse of his face but is interrupted when Eames falls into the seat next to her with a drink.

”You can’t get drunk here, Eames.”

He rolls his eyes.

The singer continues the song. She looks up once more, finally getting a peek at his face.

The man.

It was the man she kept seeing in her dreams. Who was he? What was he doing here?

Eames follows her line of sight and pales, the color draining from his cheeks.

”Eames. Eames.” She touches his arm to get his attention but he isn’t looking. “Mr. Eames!”

The forger whips around to meet her gaze. His eyes watery and filled with fear and if Ariadne didn’t know any better she would say regret as well.

”Eames,” she whispers quietly as if scared to press the issue. “Who is he?”

Eames doesn’t answer.

Eames doesn’t answer, only slams back the rest of his drink and storms over to Cobb and the mark.

-:-

Weeks later, the man appears in a dream; this time they are in a lush green garden with marble archways and statues of Greek and Roman gods. He gestures for Ariadne to join him on a bench next to a row of rose bushes.

”How have you been?”

”Good.” She murmurs. He nods. They both stay there for a few minutes in silence as the man listens to nearby birds and pretends not to notice her staring.

”How do you know him?”

”Who?” The man avoids her face when he talked.

”Eames.”

”Eames…” he tilts his head, the name spoken in a hushed tone of voice.

”Yes?” Ariadne moves closer, eager for any kind of answer the man could give her. “Did you know him?”

”Long ago. You know him as well?”

”Yeah, we met on a job last year. In fact, we saw each other a few weeks ago.”

”Oh, was he happy?” The man draws himself closer to her.

”Happy?”

”Yes.”

Ariadne thought for a second. “He seemed happy enough. Why do you ask?”

The man hums. “You work with Cobb as well, correct?”

”Umm…yeah?” Ariadne opens her mouth to direct the conversation back to her questions but the man points to the garden around them instead.

”Cobb has told you his rules of dreamsharing then? Ah, memory. Never draw from memory, Cobb is rather repetitive with that notion, but I always liked this garden. Beautiful in the spring and the house nearby has a perfect view of every single marble arch.”

Her next question is lost to her lips. She is pulled away back to reality.

-:-

“Ignore him.” Cobb insists next time she saw the man in a dream. “He’s only there as a distraction.”

“But who is he?” She urges the older man for answers as he pushes her into the office building’s elevator, avoiding eye contact with the man.

”We’ve all lost someone. He’s no one, just a figment, a shade now.”

”Eames recognizes him!”

The elevator dings and said man is leaning against the adjacent wall outside the sliding doors. “Talking about me, Cobb?”

”Eames, aren’t you suppose to be with the mark?”

”Slight problem there.”

”Oh?” Cobb’s reply is sharp.

-:-

Cobb directed her to Eames’ house after Cobb and him had gotten into a fight a few months back and Eames changed his number.

The house although Ariadne would call it an estate had gorgeous spiraling pillars and out of the corner of her eyes behind the house she spots a large garden with what she can only guess were marble arches far away. Ariadne steps closer to get a better look when the door to the estate open and Eames steps to greet her at the threshold.

”Ariadne, lovely to see you as always.”

”Eames,” she smiles. “Can I come in?”

The doors opens up to a foyer with high clerestory windows and a grand staircase that curls around and up the circular room.

”Cobb sent me to see if you’re willing to work another job with us.”

Eames thinks for a moment before pulling a pad of stationary out of an end table near the door. He scribbles down a string of numbers and hands it to her.

”Tell Cobb to call me when he has a meeting place set up. See you then?” It’s a question; Ariadne can tell it was definitely an invitation to leave. She doesn’t move though. She takes a leap of faith just as Eames turns around to walk away.

”Who is he?”

Eames twists around to meet her eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

”The man I see in my dreams! You and Cobb both know him. Who is he?” She steps toward the forger.

Eames shakes his head. “No one. Thanks for stopping by. I’ll contact Cobb.” He doesn’t look pleased.

”I know he’s important to you! Cobb told me you both lost someone and how he lost Mal. The man I see, is he the one you lost?”

”Get out.” He hisses.

”What…?”

He stalks closer like a threatened animal. “I said, GET OUT!” Eames roars, barring his teeth. She races to the door and skitters away fearfully back to Cobb’s place.

-:-

She’s back at the bar again.

”He got angry…”

”Angry?” The man pauses. “I never knew Eames as one to get angry, especially not like that.”

”You must be someone really important to him.”

The man laughs. “He certainly is to me.” He sighs a moment, deep in thought. “You should bring him here, Ariadne. I want to see him again. I need to see him again.” 

Chapter Text

It’s an airstrip this time with silver planes and a cloudless sky. Ariadne knows she messed up the moment Eames steps off the airplane, down the ladder.

”Where am I?”

”I’m sorry.”

Eames chuckles, but it’s hollow. “No, you’re not.” He stops to stare at a figure across the field, one Ariadne is very familiar with.

The man.

He grows closer. Eames backs away until he is nearly against the ladder. Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

”Please.” She can’t tell if he’s begging her or the man.

”Eames,” his name whispered with a smile as the man reaches out to cup the forger’s cheek.

”Arthur…please don’t do this.”

The man’s—Arthur’s—face twists in confusion. “You usually call me darling, Eames, are you okay?” Arthur brushed the hair away from the other’s eyes. Eames flinches, pulling himself backward, trying to escape his lover’s grasp.

”Arthur, you’re not real.” He sounds more like he is trying to convince himself.

”What do you mean ‘I’m not real?’ I’m right here.” Arthur moves to touch Eames again, but Eames won’t let him. “Look,” he offers his wrists “you can feel my pulse. I can tell you the very words you said to me when we first met. Eames, fucking look at me!”

Eames doesn’t. Instead, he inches closer to the glock at Arthur’s side. “You’re not real.” He grabs for it, and Ariadne remembers only a bullet, a gasp, and nothing.

-:-

“Eames.” She says a final time. “Who is he?”

The forger runs a hand through his hair not unlike how Arthur did. The warehouse is empty except for two chairs and the PASIV between them.

”His name was Arthur Chase. He was beautiful. He was perfect. He was mine. But now he’s gone and it’s all my fault.

”Arthur was always careful. He thought everything through and he knew things you couldn’t even fathom. He performed every job with precision, hyper aware of the dangers.

”I told him I wasn’t going to do anything rash since there was a bounty on my head. This was two years ago. But I was trapped in our hotel room for days and I just needed a few minutes of fresh air, I meant no harm! So I went for a walk and the people who were hunting me managed to find me. I don’t remember much between the torture and the threats, yet I can remember, distinctly remember, him. Arthur. Bathe in golden light. My savior come to rescue me.

”And he did but it wasn’t enough. They- they killed him. They killed Arthur, my Arthur. Dead.” He laughs, his eyes dead. It’s not funny. Nothing about it was funny.

”You know, when we met in ‘01 I didn’t believe in love at first sight, but Arthur, oh, he was an angel from heaven. Something I could only dare imagine. I married him three years later. How could we have only seven years in each other’s company? How could I lead him to his death like that?” He sobs.

Ariadne vows never to take him back to see Arthur. Best to ignore the man who haunts her dreams. The destruction and pain he leaves in his wake with only leave Eames in greater disarray than she would ever want. 

Chapter Text

Eames opens his eyes.

He doesn't want to at first, mostly afraid of what he would find. Working in dreams for half of his life had started to affect how he saw the world. 

The fabric around his arms felt soft like sheets he used to keep on his bed. The kind that Arthur hated. The kind that was bright blinding colors like puke green or an unbelievable shade of orange. He knows the moment he turns his head toward the nightstand that this was a dream. After all, he had lost that framed photo long ago. He had thrown it away in fact. Straight into the trash near the kitchen sink. It had been a photo of his mother when he was just a kid. He told Arthur he just didn't want the awful reminder once she had died.

The sound of the bedroom door breaks him away from his thoughts. Ariadne stands in the threshold watching him rip the sheets trying to pull himself out of bed. "Let me go."

"He wants to see you."

"I don't want to see him. Ariadne. Let. Me. Go." Eames tries to close the door, but she stops it with her foot. 

"Eames, he wants to see you." She urges, pointing toward the living room of his home. Eames shook his head, tears threating to fall from his eyes if he would dare to speak a word. "Eames." No. No. No. He couldn't see him. It was too soon.

Ariadne pushes him out the door and onto the couch. A familiar pair of shoes face him on the carpet. He doesn't look up at the person across from him, seated in the armchair.

"This is a dream." Eames insists.

"Yes Eames, I know." His voice-as sarcastic as ever-replies. And well, Eames shouldn't have but curiosity killed the cat; he glances up. Just a quick look, just to check. 

Across of him is Arthur Chase, eyes as bright as the last time he saw them open, and there was no injury in sight. Arthur was ok. Arthur is ok. He reaches out and pulls the man close. Arthur laughs with a sigh, letting himself he brought closer until their foreheads touch.

"Are you-"

"I'm awake." That's all the answer he needs.

-:-

The hospital in New York is cold. Ariadne doesn't know where she's going anymore. All she knows is that Eames is desperate to see someone. They stop in front of room 534. Eames' hand hovers right above the door handle before a nurse nearby interrupts.

"He's awake, dear." The look of relief floods Eames' face, and he swings the door open with a confidence she had only seen him fake once before.

"Eames." The man from her dreams is propped up on a bed with the smallest smile spread across his face.

"Arthur." There was that name again. The English man rushes toward him, placing kiss upon kiss on his lips. "Arthur, darling, you're awake. You're ok."

"Yes." A kiss. "Yes," another kiss. "I'm ok." Another. "I'm alright. What happened?"

"Long story. The mission didn't go well after you got hurt. I couldn't leave you...but you're ok now."

"I am." The man nods before looking in her direction. "Now, who are you?"

"My name is Ariadne. I work with Eames."

The man raises an eyebrow. "and how exactly did you get in to that mess?"

"Cobb recruited me for inception actually."

The man playful hits Eames' shoulder. "Cobb convinced you to do inception, really? You really do have a death wish." Eames murmurs a little "ouch" but moves to hug the other man around the torso anyway. "I'm Arthur." The man from her dreams offers his hand to her. "Since Mr. Eames over here didn't bother to introduce me."

"Oh, and you know each other from dreamsharing?"

"Yes, that's how we met." Eames answers her this time. "Arthur is my husband."

Ariadne widens her eyes and blinks a few times. She tilts her head in confusion. "Wait, you're married?"

Arthur laughs, loud. "Oh funny story, actually, we-"

Eames points a finger at him, threating. It doesn't look that scary with the huge grins on both men's faces. "Don't you dare, Arthur." Arthur looks him in the eyes and after kissing him gently on the knuckles, turns back to the young women.

"Now, like I was saying, Mr. Eames doesn't mention it because he doesn't like to talk about his sappy proposal. It started with..."