Illumination Part One

[fae_boleyn]

Title: Illumination
Fandom: Inception
Disclaimer: You actually need this?
Pairings: Uh... Mal/Cobb, Arthur/Ariadne, Mal/Cobb/Arthur/Ariadne, Mal/Cobb/Ariadne, Arthur/Eames, Fischer/Saito, pre-Ariadne/Arthur/Eames (It makes sense in context, I swear!)
Summary: Cobb jumped that night with Mal, leaving Ariadne as sole guardian of the children. But Social Services declares her an unfit guardian, and Ariadne is out of options. Until a mark from a failed job makes her an offer she can't refuse. Do the impossible and he gives her the children. But to do it, she's going to need to contact someone who left her long ago.
Author's Note: Written forrei17  as part of the inception_poly  fic exchange.

 

It was the wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors to let me in
Shattered windows and the sound of drums
People couldn't believe what I'd become            - Viva La Vida, Coldplay

Ariadne stands there as the coffins are lowered into the ground – it's not a Catholic cemetery like Mal would have wanted because she and Dom killed themselves – James clinging to her left hand and Philippa gripping her right. Her throat burns from the tears she's been swallowing, her jaw aches from clenching her teeth together so she doesn't scream.

 

How could they do this? How could they both leave their children, leave her, like this? Mal she can understand, she knows Mal was broken, convinced that this world was just another dream, but Dom... He knew that jumping would be suicide, that there would be no waking up this time. So why would he do it?

 

A voice from her memory rises unbidden into her thoughts. “It's each other they need, Ari. Not us, not anyone, except each other. In the end, that's all that really matters to them, is that they're together.”

 

She shakes her head to clear it, to chase away that voice she used to love, in the days when three was four. Now three has become one, and she's more lost than ever. It doesn't help when she looks up and sees him, in his black three-piece suit, fedora covering the black hair she knows is slicked back, his dark eyes resting on her for one moment before he turns and walks away. He walks to the parking lot, to a man she doesn't know who is wearing a tweed jacket and leaning against a car.

 

Part of her wants to chase after him, to keep him with her so she has someone and she's not alone, not lost in despair and confusion, in the horrible question of What now? but she can't, because he left them long ago and she has her pride. He always knew he could come back, she's sure he knows it still. And yet there he is, walking away again.

 

~ ~ ~

 

In the beginning, because all stories have a beginning, there are two, not three or four or one. It isn't Dom and Mal, it's Ariadne and Arthur, two college students sharing a dorm room. How that happens is complicated, some kind of computer mix-up that leaves a freshman girl and a sophomore boy as roommates.

 

They get used to it fairly quickly, agreements to change clothing in the bathroom and never in the bedroom making life that much easier. Arthur teaches Ariadne how to make good coffee, and she teaches him how to cook. And they teach each other how to dance, playing music on a laptop – sometimes Arthur's silver one and sometimes Ariadne's purple one. The dances start ending in kisses, and then they don't need to dance to kiss, but they never take it further. It's not that they don't want it, it's that they just aren't quite... ready for it yet. It's like they need some kind of final push.

 

And then there's Professor Miles' class, and then there are Mal and Dom, the professor's daughter and her husband. And that thing, the push they were waiting for, is them. It's this couple who, after dinner at Miles' house, take them into their first lucid dream, the four of them walking along the streets of Venice.

 

That night is the night Ariadne and Arthur become lovers, still riding the high from impossibilities, from how Arthur made things materialize from nowhere and Ariadne twisted the canals of Venice into a labyrinth maze. And it's for comfort too, to remind themselves that they're alive, even after dying for the first time at the hands of projections.

 

Yet even violent death isn't enough to put them off dreaming for long.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The Cobbs' will says that Ariadne is to be James and Philippa's guardian, but the State of California disagrees. Since their grandparents are dead – Dom's parents died years ago, as did Mal's mother, but Miles only died last year of a heart attack – there is no one suitable in the eyes of Social Services, and they take the children away. They take them away and throw them in foster care, and Ariadne is completely alone now.

 

She would give up, except she refuses to let those children go. The problem is, she has no way to fight. As far as the courts know, she's an unemployed twenty-something, because she can't very well point out that she's more than capable of supporting herself and two children. Not when her job is illegal.

 

Nash is an extractor she's worked with only once before, when Philippa was a newborn and neither Cobb nor Mal wanted to work for a bit. She and Arthur had been rebellious and daring – or so they felt – by working with someone else. Except Nash is a slimy bastard. Still, he's a decent architect, and the job has a pretty good payoff. Cobol Engineering wants expansion plans from Kiyoshi Saito, the head of Proclus Global. Should be simple, and maybe she can get enough cash to bribe someone in Social Services.

 

It all goes to hell. Twice. The second time is her fault, in the end, because she messed up the carpet. How was she supposed to know that Nash would slam Saito's face into the ground and the man would recognize that the smell of the carpeting in 'his apartment' was off? She spent the extra time to find out what sort of fiber was used in the rug – wool, not polyester – but the smell? She's not even sure she could have done anything about that. Who the hell knows that kind of thing anyway, even about their own carpets? It's disturbing as hell, Ariadne thinks. Not to mention, Cobol now wants her head, so she can't even justify getting the kids back to herself. What if she gets them killed?

 

That's when Saito arrives in the getaway helicopter, bearing Nash, who tried to sell her out. Saito leaves Nash to Cobol's tender mercies when Ariadne refuses to shoot him, and then stares at her from across the small space in the copter and makes her an offer. She gives him inception, he helps her get James and Philippa back. Really, it's no choice at all.

 

~ ~ ~

 

They finish college, because the Cobbs insist on it, but neither Arthur nor Ariadne has any interest in it anymore. All they want to do is dream, to dream with Dom and Mal. They don't talk about it, because they know; they love each other, but they love Dom and Mal too. It's OK, it's not cheating if you don't do anything, even if you want to – especially not when both of you want to do the same thing.

 

Or so they tell themselves. But the strain begins to show, because the two of them isn't enough anymore, not for either of them, and it's driving them mad. Ariadne's the one who comes up with a sort of solution, who dreams up projections of Dom and Mal that do want them, that are happy to be with them both. And things even out.

 

It goes like this until they've graduated and are working with the Cobbs full-time. It's illegal, what they do, breaking into people's minds to sell the information to their business or political enemies. Sometimes the job does good things, like when they're hired by private detectives to help find out the locations of missing people, or when those desperate enough and rich enough to use lucid dreaming as a drastic kind of therapy are healthier people afterwards, but it's still illegal. But it's not like Arthur or Ariadne has anyone else to answer to – they're both alone in the world, scholarship students who got out of shitty situations to make something of themselves. Who cares if they're criminals? They're happy.

 

But some of that happiness is forged on illusion, and one day it comes crashing in on them, because Mal finds them in the dream. It's not even sex, this one, just cuddling, just quiet domestic bliss. It's stupid, but these dreams are as wonderful as the sex ones, in their way. But the look on the real Mal's face... Ariadne and Arthur don't know what to do, and neither of them want to wake up, but they have no choice.

 

And it turns out that Dom and Mal knew all along. At least that Arthur and Ariadne were in love with them. “We'll go, if you want,” Arthur says, looking at his shoes. Ariadne holds her breath, silently begging Dom and Mal not to get rid of them.

 

“You don't have to,” Dom says, but it's Mal who takes it further.

 

“We can give you what you want, mon chere, ma petite.” She calls Arthur mon chere and Ariadne ma petite sometimes; Dom is mon amour. The younger pair look at the older pair in shock, but Mal is smiling, and Dom doesn't seem to have a problem with this suggestion.

 

And it's better than the dreams, because really, they can't compare with reality.

 

~ ~ ~

 

There's one major downside to this new job. Well, two. The first is that Saito insists on coming along, which is a terrible idea but Ariadne can't talk him out of it. The second is that she isn't allowed to pick their extractor. At least now she knows who trained Saito's subconscious. His name is Robert Fischer; he's the older son of Maurice Fischer, head of the Fischer-Morrow energy conglomerate. He's also been disowned in favor of his younger brother Jeremy and has major daddy issues.

 

It doesn't help that the mark is said younger brother. Maurice Fischer is dying, and Jeremy is set to take over the company. Saito doesn't want his corporation to founder under the strain of trying to compete with Fischer-Morrow. Fischer... She's not sure if he's looking for vengeance or if he honestly wants to get his brother out of their father's shadow. And to be honest, she doesn't give a damn. All that matters is whether or not they can plant the idea to split up his father's company in Jeremy Fischer's mind, so that's all she cares about. And she has to hand it to Fischer, he's pretty good. He says caustically that it's a good thing he got disowned, as he found his calling because of it, and while he's being a smart-ass, she thinks he might actually have a point there.

 

Ariadne tells herself the three of them can do this alone. After all, Fischer can gain his brother's trust in the dream, start feeding him what they need him to believe. Surely he'd listen to his own brother, so no need for a forger. And as for a point man, she's sure Saito's people can give her whatever information Fischer doesn't already have. Chemists don't have to be on-site all the time.

 

And really, she knows she's kidding herself, but it takes Fischer saying flat-out, “We need a point man and a forger, because at this point the only one Jeremy will trust is Uncle Peter, and Yoshi's people can't do the research without setting off alarm bells.”

 

Ariadne is distracted for a moment by the use of a nickname for Saito, though she already suspected that Saito and Fischer were screwing each other's brains out when not working. But she has to concede the point, gritting her teeth. She knows who she needs for point, and he comes with a very talented forger these days, if rumor is to be believed.

 

So sixteen hours after that conversation, she's on a flight to Mombasa, Kenya.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Everything's wonderful after that, or at least Ariadne thinks so. Arthur's not so sure. It's after James is born that he finally confronts Mal about it. “You don't really love us, do you?”

 

“Arthur, I don't know what you mean,” Mal says, but she's toying with her hair like she only does when she's lying, or at the very least evading the truth.

 

“Mal, please, be honest with me. You two care about Ari and me, but you'd be fine without us. You and Dom, though... You can't live without each other.”

 

Mal doesn't answer, just looks at him sadly, and Arthur nods, throat tight. He packs his bags that night, refusing to stay in a relationship where all parties involved are not on equal footing. Ariadne begs him not to go, and he tells her what he's come to realize. “It's each other they need, Ari. Not us, not anyone, except each other. In the end, that's all that really matters to them, is that they're together.”

 

“So who cares? They still want us, Arthur, it's still the best we're going to have!”

 

“Maybe I want more than the best we can get from them,” he says.

 

“But what about me?”

 

“You can come with me if you want.” He hopes she will, but at her crestfallen look he smiles sadly. “I didn't think so.” He kisses her on the cheek and tucks an errant lock of hair behind her ear, then walks away. He has no plan, no idea where he's going, just that he needs to get away from here. And that's what he does. He's got enough of a name for himself in the dreaming underworld that he has no trouble finding jobs. He never works with the same people twice, preferring to move on quickly rather than get attached again. He's just not ready to risk heartbreak a second time so soon after the first.

 

And then he meets Eames.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Mombasa is hot, and Ariadne hates it. Although if she's honest with herself, it's entirely possible that what she really hates is why she's come. Or rather, who she's come to see. She finds Arthur and the bar of a seedy casino, not the place she'd expect him to favor. But he's just walked away from a man in a god-awful pea green jacket and salmon-colored shirt, and is now heading back with two glasses. She moves up to Arthur's side easily. “Arthur.”

 

He bobbles the glasses but doesn't drop them, turning just a little quicker than is wise to face her. “Ariadne, what are you doing here? The kids...”

 

“Are gone, not that you give a damn. Look, I've got a job offer for you and your new business partner.”

 

“Eames is not my business partner, he's my lover,” Arthur says evenly.

 

“Whatever, he's a forger, right? I have a job offer for the two of you, so why don't you introduce me and we can get this show on the road.”

 

Arthur looks at her, and there's a flash of the old Arthur in this man wearing a light blue buttondown and khakis, but it's not enough. It's not enough, because he still left and it doesn't matter anymore.

 

Arthur introduces her to Eames and slate gray eyes narrow as they study her, and Ariadne suspects that Eames doesn't like her any more than she likes him. Not that it matters. She gives him a long once-over, noting despite herself that he's attractive, but still resenting his very presence. From the look he's giving her she suspects his thoughts are more or less along the same vein.

 

“So you're Ariadne. I thought you'd be taller, really.” They've left the casino where Eames had set up shop by this time, and Ariadne is sitting across from them both on the balcony of a rundown coffee shop.
 

Arthur shakes his head. “What's the job, Ariadne? And what happened to James and Philippa?”

 

Ariadne glares at him. “Apparently I'm not a fit guardian by the standards of California. And the job is inception.”

 

“That's impossible.” Arthur doesn't skip a beat.

 

“It's perfectly possible, just bloody difficult,” Eames corrects.

 

“Then why didn't it work last time, Eames?” Arthur asks, exasperated.

 

“The two of you have done this before?” Ariadne wants to know.

 

“We tried,” Arthur says. “It didn't work.”

 

“We got the idea in place, but it didn't take,” Eames clarifies.

 

“You didn't go deep enough?” Ariadne asks. Arthur and Eames glance at each other before the latter answers.

 

“No, it's not just about depth. You need the simplest version of the idea so it'll grow naturally in the subject's mind. It's a very subtle art.”

 

“What's the idea you need to plant?” Arthur wants to know.

 

“To get the heir to an international corporation to split up his father's empire. Oh, and our extractor is said heir's disowned big brother.”

 

Eames looks at her, and she can see the gears turning in his mind.“Well, right there you've got various political motivations, anti-monopolistic sentiment and so forth. But all that stuff, it's at the mercy of your subject's prejudices – you have to go back to the absolute basic.”

 

“Which is?”Ariadne leans forward, eyes narrowed. She might not like this guy, but Arthur works with him as well as fucks him, so he must be good, and he certainly sounds like he knows what he's doing.

 

“The relationship with the father,” Eames says flatly.

 

“What about the brother?” Arthur says, almost absently. Eames flashes him a grin, nodding.

 

“Well yes, that too. Under the circumstances, that should be cleared first. Just how do the poor little rich boys get on?”

 

“They were close as children but haven't spoken since Robert was disowned,” Ariadne says. “In fact, that's why we need a forger; I thought Robert could get his brother to lower his guard, but he said it wouldn't work.”

 

“And what about me?” Arthur asks.

 

“You're a package deal, aren't you?” Ariadne shoots back, bitterness lacing her words. “And my employer can give me all kinds of resources, but not someone with the same skill for finding out what we need that you have.”

 

“Do you have a chemist?” Eames cuts in, clearly not happy with the direction the conversation is starting to go in. Ariadne supposes this is awkward for them all, in one way or another.

 

“No, not yet. Why?”

 

“Eames has a friend here,” Arthur explains. “Yusuf. He blends his own variants of the compounds.”

 

Ariadne nods. “Can you guys take me there?”

 

“Sure,” Eames says. “As soon as you've lost your tail.”

 

Ariadne stiffens, and Arthur says, “By the bar, blue tie. Came in a minute or two after us.”

 

“It's probably Cobol Engineering. They're not happy with me right now,” Ariadne says.

 

“Yeah, they pretty much own Mombasa. And we heard; there's a price on your head,” Arthur says tightly, and she can see the concern in his eyes.

 

“Run interference for me? Meet back here in half an hour?”

 

“Last place they'd look,” Arthur nods.

 

“Say,” Ariadne asks, “that price on my head? Was it dead or alive?” She's asking Arthur, but it's Eames who answers.

 

“Can't remember,” the Brit says carelessly, before getting up. “I'm about to give you your distraction, you'd better go.”

 

Ariadne dimly hears Eames calling something in the direction of the Cobol tail before she jumps off the balcony to the street below. She's not sure what Arthur's doing.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Arthur meets Eames on a job in St. Petersburg. Eames is infuriating and he drives Arthur up the wall within five minutes of their first meeting. But at the same time, Arthur also finds himself enjoying the Brit's company, and he doesn't quite fail to notice that the other man is very attractive. When the job goes horrifically wrong, they end up on the run together with the rest of their team dead.

 

“Didn't you used to run with the famous Cobbs? I heard something about them having a pet point man and architect,” Eames says conversationally as they drive, the road deserted because it's fucking three AM. Arthur clenches his jaw.

 

“Clearly I'm not their 'pet point man' or I wouldn't have left,” Arthur says, bitterness and more than a little pain lacing his words. He forgets that Eames is a forger, which means he is even more skilled in the art of reading people than regular extractors are (though that's what he was doing on this job, not forging). And Arthur's not being particularly careful about hiding his feelings anyway. What's the fucking point?

 

“Christ, mate, what did they do to you?” Eames sounds a bit shocked, and Arthur almost feels guilty. It's not Dom and Mal's fault that they love each other more than anyone else. It's just their fault that they are willing to lead people to believe that this might not be the case.

 

“More like what they didn't do,” he admits, and his voice is so tired, but he can't bring himself to try and change that. He hasn't talked about it, has tried not to think about it, but he can't. He can't forget, can't think of anything but the two of them and Ariadne and he's so damn lonely. He can almost taste it, like something bitter always on his tongue.

 

He's aware that when they fuck, a few miles later, pulled off to the side of the road, isn't about anything. Sex in such a situation is more about reaffirming that you're still alive, and for Arthur it's also trying to fill that emptiness for a little while. But then what ends up happening is that they get cornered the next day and they fight their way out. Once they're free, Eames slants him a look from slate gray eyes, and something catches in Arthur's chest.

 

“I've been thinking about finding myself a partner,” Eames says. “Would you be interested in that?”

 

Arthur is, and while he's not expecting the sex to continue, it does. It's sex, and friendship, until Eames gets shot on a job in Kuwait and Arthur brutally takes down the people responsible. Later, in the hospital, Eames jokes weakly, “I didn't know you cared.”

 

“Of course I do, you idiot,” Arthur says, trying not to think about just how much. This isn't Dom and Mal, this is different, it feels like... Well. Like Ariadne. That means something, but he doesn't care to contemplate it.

 

“Well, so do I, darling,” Eames admits, cutting Arthur's thoughts off. They look at each other, and it doesn't need to be said when Arthur leans in and kisses him – lightly, because Eames is still injured and it wouldn't be fair to start something that can't be finished, not for either of them. But they haven't kissed before, a tacit, mutual agreement because somehow, kissing is more intimate than sex, emotionally at least. So when Arthur kisses Eames, when Eames returns that kiss, they both know what it means, what they're saying without words.

 

But strangely, Arthur still feels like a part of him is missing. He doesn't think it has anything to do with the fascinating couple he'd walked away from, but with the girl still lost in their allure.

Part Two is here