"Up until now I had sworn to myself that I'm content with loneliness"
Come Undone
With: lakoffselephant
Rating: very likely R or NC17
Once upon a time, a few years back, Eames had been stuck under some floorboards in Argentina. He hid under those floorboards, his life resting in the balance, for a week. He came out of those floor boards hallucinating from the lack of food and water, but those who needed to know knew that he was alive. There was always a code, a way to get a message back when everything went wrong. He had texted six specific numbers to every team member before turning off his phone for the rest of that week under the floorboards. I'm alive, was the purposes of those numbers, that quick message out to the world. I'm alive and I'm hiding for the risk of it.
Two weeks, and no one had heard back from Arthur. The job had ended miserably, with the team being split as they ran and hid from men with guns. Real men, not projections, and God help them if they hadn't been unhooked when they came. Someone had screwed up, Arthur probably by all logic, but Eames wasn't thinking about that. All he could think was that Arthur couldn't be dead.
No, of course he could be. That was the risk of their job, right? He always made sure everyone knew, this is what you signed up for. A life alone, possibly one cut short. Still, he wanted to live his own nice and long, and he tried so damn hard to avoid gunfire. A person one on one is simple, but a person with a gun? That's your life in someone else's shaky hands.
Maybe Arthur hadn't been so lucky to avoid gunfire. Probably.
Two weeks, and Eames was finally letting the probable truth sink in. Arthur is dead. Arthur didn't make it, and it was killing him. He promised himself long ago that he wouldn't let this happen to him, wouldn't let himself get attached, and there he was, aching. It was wrong, against everything he had taught himself. He needed to pick himself up and carry on as if Arthur had never been there, but all he could do was sit on his couch, light a candle for a friend and drown himself in tequila.
With: lakoffselephant
Rating: very likely R or NC17
Once upon a time, a few years back, Eames had been stuck under some floorboards in Argentina. He hid under those floorboards, his life resting in the balance, for a week. He came out of those floor boards hallucinating from the lack of food and water, but those who needed to know knew that he was alive. There was always a code, a way to get a message back when everything went wrong. He had texted six specific numbers to every team member before turning off his phone for the rest of that week under the floorboards. I'm alive, was the purposes of those numbers, that quick message out to the world. I'm alive and I'm hiding for the risk of it.
Two weeks, and no one had heard back from Arthur. The job had ended miserably, with the team being split as they ran and hid from men with guns. Real men, not projections, and God help them if they hadn't been unhooked when they came. Someone had screwed up, Arthur probably by all logic, but Eames wasn't thinking about that. All he could think was that Arthur couldn't be dead.
No, of course he could be. That was the risk of their job, right? He always made sure everyone knew, this is what you signed up for. A life alone, possibly one cut short. Still, he wanted to live his own nice and long, and he tried so damn hard to avoid gunfire. A person one on one is simple, but a person with a gun? That's your life in someone else's shaky hands.
Maybe Arthur hadn't been so lucky to avoid gunfire. Probably.
Two weeks, and Eames was finally letting the probable truth sink in. Arthur is dead. Arthur didn't make it, and it was killing him. He promised himself long ago that he wouldn't let this happen to him, wouldn't let himself get attached, and there he was, aching. It was wrong, against everything he had taught himself. He needed to pick himself up and carry on as if Arthur had never been there, but all he could do was sit on his couch, light a candle for a friend and drown himself in tequila.