Brick/Inception: Après Moi, le Deluge

[osaki_nana_707]

Title: Après Moi, le Deluge (4/24)
Author: osaki_nana_707
Fandom: Brick/Inception fusion
Word count: 3,676
Pairing: later Brendan(Arthur)xEames, mentions of BrendanxEmily and BrendanxLaura
Rating: R
Warnings: currently violence, language, mentions of character death
Summary: Brendan should have known better than to tug on loose threads. He should have known that one loose thread was all it took to make everything unravel, but he’d been tired and just wanted things to be done. He should have known well enough that things were never done.

Special thanks to wadebramwilson for betaing! <3



FOUR

"Brendan. Brendan, wake up."

Brendan stirred from sleep at the gentle shaking of his shoulder and lifted his head off of the pillow, taking a quick glance at the clock. "It's four in the morning," he grumbled.

"Malorie Miles emailed me back," Brain informed him, expression nothing but interested. It was moments like these where Brendan couldn't help but question if Brain was indeed human. Two nights without sleep hadn't seemed to have fazed him at all.

"Right," Brendan sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face before grabbing his glasses and limping to the computer. He was still favoring one leg, but at least the pain had subsided for the most part. He'd always been a bit ridiculously resilient. He settled in front of the computer, finding the email waiting for him on the screen.

All it said was:

Please return the device. They will leave you alone once it is no longer in your possession. -Mal

Brendan snorted. "I didn't have it when they came after me. What makes her think they'll let it lie just because I handed it over to them?"

"That was pretty much my response at first," Brain said, "but I thought about it, and I think maybe she just didn't want to say anything online. Perhaps there will be more information to be had if you meet her in person."

Brendan hummed thoughtfully and then typed a reply.

Come and get it.

The phone booth at Sarmentoso and Del Rio in San Clemente, California, USA. Be there in three days and at twelve-thirty P.M. or you aren't getting it back. I don't expect a reward, just information.-B

"You think she'll show?" Brain asked.

"If she doesn't, then I guess this thing isn't as important as I thought."

"And if she does show?"

Brendan studied Brain's face for a moment, thinning his lips. "I'll need to have an escape plan in case things go belly up. Can you get the car?"

"I don't know. That's a Tuesday, and my mom goes to work. As far as she knows, I'm at school during that time."

"Well, it's lunchtime," Brendan said as he mulled it over. "Perhaps we can borrow some keys. Keep your specs on, see if you can dip into someone's pocket and meet me at the phone booth no later than twelve forty-five."

"So you want me to steal someone's car."

"Borrow it. You can have it back in the parking lot before the bell rings and just leave the keys in the seat."

"You do it."

"I'm not about to show my face at the school and take another bullet to the leg."

Brain sighed, leaning his hip against the desk. "You know, for all the things I do for you, you should really be paying me."

Brendan smirked. "I'll keep that in mind."

On Tuesday, Brendan threw on a pair of Brain's jeans, a t-shirt, and a gray hooded jacket. He wore his own shoes and decided just before leaving the house to comb his hair back off of his face to the best extent that he could and then throw up his hood. A pair of sunglasses completed his nonchalant ensemble as he made his way to the phone booth, PASIV crammed inside a duffel bag so that it would look less suspicious.

He hadn't gotten a reply from Mal after he'd sent her one, so he really wasn't sure what to expect. All the background checks he'd had Brain run on this Mal Miles had turned up nothing out of the ordinary, but he didn't want to take his chances considering his own background check would probably come up pretty clean too. He had Brain on standby but there was no guarantee he'd get there in time if things turned ugly. It was entirely possible that he wouldn't be able to pilfer someone's car keys even if he was basically invisible to their peers, and if that was the case Brendan would probably have to run. His leg still wasn't in the best of shape for that kind of exertion. The only thing he had to defend himself with was a pocket knife. He supposed it was better than nothing, at least.

He arrived at the phone booth about ten minutes early and set the duffel bag down next to the curb. He sat next to it, shoving his hands into the armpits of his jacket as he waited. He couldn't help but think of Emily's panicked babbling from that day, the desperation in her voice as she'd begged him for help. It didn't matter what she had said afterwards; he just couldn't stay away.

All of that was over, but he was still causing trouble it seemed. Perhaps Brain was right in supposing that he'd gone looking for it. When things got quiet, all Brendan had were his thoughts and those were far more painful than a blow to the head.

He moved his hands to his pockets, right hand fiddling with the knife: flicking open the blade, gently pressing his thumb against it to test its sharpness (it was a bit dull), closing it. A car passed. Light blue sedan, San Clemente plates, driver talking on her cell phone. He heard police sirens go off in the distance only to stop after a few minutes. A few birds flew overhead, their shadows casting across the asphalt.

Then a car pulled up on the curb, classy and black, an expensive sort of brand with unassuming plates (obviously a renal), and all Brendan could do was stand up and stare as Malorie Miles exited the vehicle.

Her pictures didn't do her justice. Mal was absolutely stunning as she stepped out onto the sidewalk, dressed in a black skirt-suit and a wide-brimmed hat. Her hair had been pulled tight against her head and her eyes shielded by sunglasses. He would have almost guessed she was dressing incognito, if he believed that sort of thing was possible with someone like her. Instead she looked like a glamorous movie star from the black-and-white era of filmmaking. He felt oddly plain standing across from her, but he wasn't about to let something like that cloud his judgment.

Besides, underneath all of the glamour and beauty, he could pinpoint a fire, and in his experience that fire would swallow him up if he let it burn out of control. She was more dangerous than he could comprehend.

"Are you the one?" she asked, voice lilting with an accent.

"Maybe," Brendan replied, standing protectively in front of the bag. "I think that all depends on what you've got to say."

A smile ghosted across her lips. "Would you like to go for a ride?"

"I think here is just fine," Brendan replied.

Mal glanced around. "It's awfully open, don't you think?"

"The better to see you with… and anyone else who might be around."

"Ah, monsieur, are you trying to imply that you're the wolf here?"

"Are you trying to imply that you are?"

A smile spread across Mal's face, radiant and mysterious. "I suppose that depends now, doesn't it, Monsieur Frye?"

Brendan raised his eyebrows.

"What? You didn't think I'd do my own research? All I had to do was look. Your name popped up a few times and was the only one that made sense. You aren't quite what I expected though, I'll admit. I knew you were still in school, but I suppose I just didn't picture you so young."

"I think you and I both know that age doesn't mean a thing."

Mal nodded, tilting her sunglasses down on her nose to observe him a bit more thoroughly. Her gaze was as sharp as a gunsel's, trained and exact in what she was looking for. Brendan stood perfectly still, hoping he had given her nothing she could use.

"So, Monsieur Frye-or perhaps I can call you Brendan, yes?" Mal asked, but she didn't wait for him to answer before continuing. "Brendan, I was under the impression that I was here to retrieve something taken from me, but it seems that you have an interest in grilling me for answers."

"You've got a wise head on you, I can already tell," Brendan replied blandly, keeping his cards close to his chest. "Do you honestly think these fellows who took your precious PASIV device are going to let me walk just because I don't have it anymore? Before I give it to you, I want to make sure I won't be chilled off over some stupid misunderstanding. They may have pegged me wrong when they thought I was the dope runner, but they didn't exactly let me have this thing, and I don't need another bullet in my leg."

"You're quite a pill," Mal said, smiling.

"You're not the first doll to ever tell me that."

Mal was silent for a moment her head tilted in consideration. The quirk of her lips said she was impressed by him though Brendan wasn't out to win her approval.

"So, what do you want from me?" she finally asked. "Protection? I don't believe I'm capable of giving that to you."

Brendan shook his head. "I can protect myself just fine if need be, but I need to know what I'm up against. I need details. I already know this is bigger than the Pin's circle of jake buyers, that this is big enough that the government itself could put me in the big house for a long time just for knowing about it. I've got criminals sniffing me out already, and if the bulls get wind of it they're not going to leave me be either."

"Seems to me like you've gotten yourself into quite a jam. A girl can't help but wonder what a fellow like you was doing associating with this town's kingpin in the first place."

Brendan knew she was baiting, but he wasn't going to bite just yet. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover? What makes you think I wouldn't associate with gees like him?"

"Because every dope runner you've ever associated with has been put in the penitentiary or the ground," she replied lightly. "It seems to me like you're in it for something else. Perhaps if you told me just what it is you've been trying to do, I'd be more willing to open up to you. What's your angle? Why put yourself in the crosshairs in the first place if you knew how it would end?"

"What makes you think I knew how it would end?"

"No one goes looking for trouble if they don't expect to find it."

Brendan watched her for a beat, expression carefully blank. "I had to take care of something, and when it was done I wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything."

"Take care of what?"

"Someone that I couldn't save."

Mal's expression softened minutely, almost as if she could see straight into his memory and pull out all the important parts he wasn't spilling. It was like she could see Emily, her blonde waves of hair floating in rainwater as she laid face down in a drainage ditch.

"I don't know what to do to help you, Brendan," Mal said softly. "You're involved now, whether by accident or not, and I fear there's no way to keep you out of it. You're not safe if you stay where you're at, but I fear there's only more danger ahead of you if I bring you into this world."

"It doesn't really sound like I have much of a choice."

Brendan listened as a car pull up around the corner, could hear it idling. He would just about guarantee that it was Brain.

"Look," Brendan said, taking a step back and shoving his hands into his pockets, "I honestly don't care what these guys are using this device for whether it's good or evil or what. If they want to steal secrets then that's their business. I don't have any interest in getting involved in a war to try and save your father's device from thieves or whatever it is you want them to stop doing. I'm not the middle man being coaxed into picking sides here. All I want is my name cleared and a chance to get back to my normal, mundane life. Clearly, these goons who fired at me and tried to hold me hostage aren't going to allow me to do that, so that leaves you. I can play cards with the big boys if that's what it takes, but I need to know what we're playing here. Tell me what I need to do."

"I'm not sure yet," Mal admitted, crossing her arms. Her eyes were trained towards the sound of the waiting car, suspicious and uncomfortable. She was entirely dangerous. "You'll need to be trained with the device, militarized in order to protect your thoughts should they capture you again. Even still though, they've got your name, and now that they have that it's only a matter of time before they track down you or the people that you care about. My father and I can help you with the first part, but I'm not so sure about the second. There's nothing to stop them until their particular crime ring and everyone associated with it is completely brought to its knees."

Brendan clenched and unclenched his fingers from inside of his pockets. "Well, then, I guess that's what I'm going to have to do, now isn't it?"

"Then I suppose your best bet would be to stick with my people, since we're both after the same thing."

"What makes you think I trust you?"

"I never implied that you did… nor did I imply that you should, Monsieur Frye."

Mal tapped Brendan's lips with the tip of a manicured finger. "Come to Paris. We'll take care of your mind."

"I can't exactly afford a trip to Paris."

"Give me an address and I'll send you tickets," Mal said, "for you and for whomever it is that's helping you."

"You're awfully confident that I'm not going to cut and run."

"I believe the thing you need most right now, Brendan, is someone on your side. You'll be safer in Paris, at least for the moment, but do be smart and not put your actual name on your passport."

"You're putting an awful lot of faith in someone you just met."

"Not faith," Mal laughed, as if the very idea of faith was ludicrous. "I simply am choosing my best options. You've still got the PASIV after all, though it'd be wiser for you to hand it over to me now rather than try and get on a plane with it without my father's name, and you're also the only person who's successfully managed to retrieve one from the crime ring. We may not trust one another, but you're certainly someone I'd like to have on my side for the moment. Don't think, however, that you can screw up and no one will come after you. I could just as soon send government men and criminals onto your trail as anyone else could, but I'm choosing not to. You're more useful than that. You're far from a patsy."

"No, I'm not a patsy, but what if I'm insane?"

"All good dreamers are," Mal replied with a shark-like grin.

Brendan was having a very hard time not liking Mal.

"Leave the tickets in the phone booth," Brendan said. "I'll check back here first thing in the morning."

"Then I'll see you in Paris, Brendan Frye. I'll have someone meet you at the airport when you arrive."

Brendan lifted the duffel bag with the PASIV inside of it up onto his shoulder. "You'll get your toy back when I make it there alive."

Mal left him with a gentle smack on the cheek and a red lip impression on the corner of his mouth. When Brain pulled the car around after she drove off, he quipped, "What is it with you and beautiful, dangerous women?"

"I have no idea," Brendan said as he climbed into the passenger seat of the car.

"Well, if you figure it out, you should bottle it and sell it. By the way, where do you want me to drop you off?"

"Back at your place, I guess. Whose car is this?"

"Who do you think? Who's stupid enough to let his keys get lifted in front of a whole crowd of people and no one notices?"

"Brad Bramish?"

"What can I say? He has a nice ride, and I sort of feel like he owes you one after sending a trained killer after you just for beating him in a fight."

"The high school reputation is a powerful thing, I guess."

Brain snorted.

By the next morning, Brendan had two plane tickets to Paris in his hands and Brain had two perfectly scratched passports to take with them. "You know, Trueman caught me at my locker just before I nabbed Brad's keys, asked about you. I didn't know what to tell him."

"There's no story to tell. All this is beyond him. We're not dealing with students anymore, so what he has to offer can't help me."

"It's possible he's just worried about you. You know, there could be some people who actually care if you go missing or not."

Brendan narrowed his eyes at Brain thoughtfully. "Regardless of his intent, it means my missing presence is starting to cause a stir. A phone call to my mom isn't too far away."

"What does she think is going on?"

"As far as she knows I've been in class and staying with a friend to work on a science project. She's disconnected enough that it convinced her, and fortunately she's obvious enough that no one would put any heat on her even though she's got a thin connection to me. She's never kept track of where I am or what I'm doing, so she'll be safe no matter what happens."

"If you completely take a bunk though, people are going to start talking more loudly than whispers. I guess all I'm asking is if you're sure dusting off to Paris like this is the best idea. This Mal could be playing you for sucker, have your throat slit as soon as you get there, and no one in France knows who you are."

"That's why I've got you. It's less likely anyone's going to be doing anything if there are two of us, but I understand if you don't want to op this time. There won't be any hard feelings if you want to sit this one out at home."

"It's definitely more action than I'm used to," Brain admitted. "Flying under the radar is more of my thing. All the same, I've operated for you twice in the past now, and it's not like it isn't partly my fault that you're in this jam anyway, so I'm not bowing out now when the good part is just starting. Besides, I wouldn't want these passports to go to waste."

"How is any of this on you?"

"I could have told you I didn't find anything. I could have told you I wouldn't even look into it. I didn't do either of those things, so blame is shared."

"I would have just done it myself if you hadn't done anything."

"Yeah, but then if you died your body wouldn't be on my name. It is now."

Brendan hesitated for a moment and then clapped Brain on the shoulder. "So what are you going to tell your mom?"

"Nothing. I never come out of my room anyway. She probably won't even notice I'm gone. Like I said, I'm good at flying under the radar. I blend into the background. No one notices me. It's a pretty comfortable spot compared to yours. You might get all the credit, but they're not firing bullets at me."

A corner of Brendan's mouth tilted upwards. "You're absolutely sure you want to do this?"

"Paris is supposed to be lovely this time of year."

That settled that.

Brendan slipped over to his own house in the middle of the night only long enough to cram a suitcase full of clothes and other provisions and then hurry to his and Brain's rendezvous point. Their flight left in about two hours and Brain had been spending most of the time between learning of the tickets and now to tweak the PASIV until its mechanics weren't detectable to the average airport scanners. Brendan didn't know how he managed it and frankly didn't want to know, so they both stayed silent when they reunited outside of Carrows to catch a taxi to the airport.

"What if someone's waiting for us?Someone… unsavory?" Brain asked softly.

"Then we fight our way out."

"I hope by 'we' you mean 'you'."

Brendan almost laughed.

"If all of this hits on all eight and we don't end up in dutch, you owe me. It's about time I got the girl at the end of all of this."

"Brain, if I got the girl at the end of things, I'd have the girl now."

"Not true. Happily ever after is horseshit, but I think I'd like to see how it feels for a bit."

"I'll see what I can do. Maybe you could win Miss Mal over."

"I'd have more of a chance with Kara than with a lady like her."

"That would be because Kara skates around with whatever yeg of the month can get her what she wants."

"Like you?"

"You live, you learn. My advice is to never date a skirt that even shows a hint of interest in a guy like me. It all turns out curtains in the end."

"Maybe it's time you shifted gears on what you're looking for. Someone who's not Emily."

Brendan gave Brain a look to let him know he was pushing it, and Brain promptly shut up.

also available on AO3