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Eames (dream_bigger) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2012-01-25 20:01:00

Entry tags:

arthur, eames

WHO: Eames and Arthur
WHAT: All manner of unpleasant discoveries
WHEN: Morning of January 25th
WHERE: ~~Ariadne,~~ Arthur and Eames' house
RATING: Angsty, Sad, Full of Angsty Sadness, and also swearing
STATUS: In Progress

Eames blinked awake as the alarm clock started buzzing, and automatically reached out to see who was in the bed with him this morning. Arthur came and went during the week, even having his own room next door to the main bedroom, and Eames himself had a bad habit of falling asleep in the art room at least once a week, half-crippling himself on the crappy armchair he'd insisted on bringing with him. Ariadne was the only one who slept in the bed every night, and even she had shitty sleeping patterns and woke up insanely early sometimes, so it didn't register with Eames that something was wrong when he didn't touch anyone. Sitting up, he knuckled sleep from his eyes, climbed out of bed and padded over to the en suite to go through his usual morning routine, making sure to not trip over the dog as he did so.

Ten minutes later, he walked past the art room on his way downstairs to the kitchen, and pushed the door open to tell Ariadne he was going to make tea. Sticking his head round the door, he frowned when she wasn't to be seen, and then he noticed the gaping hole that her huge drafting table used to fill. "...oh, fuck," he muttered, and then turned and ran back to the main bedroom to check, Escher now following after him as he rummaged through the wardrobes and dressers. Sure enough, all her clothes were missing. Her scarves and her red jacket and the clothes Neal had bought her and her boots and... and everything, all gone. Refusing to accept it, Eames tried to find some of her jewellery, her pendants and oh, Jesus, the mismatched cufflinks he'd got for her, but he couldn't even find the little tray she kept them all in. It should have been on one of their dressers, but it wasn't, it was gone, just like all her belongings...

Her phone, he'd try phoning her... and he got a disconnected tone.

Fuck. Oh, fucking Christ, this was not happening, this was not allowed to happen...

Blinking hard, he tried to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat, and went back out into the hallway. Stopping outside Arthur's door, he paused and wiped at his face with a very shaky hand and then cleared his throat. "Arthur? Arthur, please be in there," he said, wincing at how his voice cracked, and then he knocked on the door before pushing it open. "Arthur?"

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dream_bigger
2012-01-25 10:38 pm UTC (link)

Eames scrubbed at his eyes as Arthur did the same check he'd only just completed, hugging his other arm close to his chest. He didn't know what was going on, and he really didn't want to know what Arthur was going to be telling him unless it was something simple like "all my stuff needs cleaning because of strange arcane known-only-to-me reasons so I am pretending that I live in Sparta until things are sorted."

He didn't move from the doorway into Arthur's room, he just kept looking at the suitcase until the other man said his name, so he turned to face him. "She's... Ariadne, she..." he tried to explain, despite Arthur already knowing. "Where are you going? Why are you going, Arthur?"

A horrible thought occurred to him then. "Is this... Cobb, is this because I... Arthur, I honestly thought he knew, he knew before, I'm sorry..."

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the_pointman
2012-01-26 01:00 am UTC (link)

Arthur turned, shaking his head and reaching out to grab Eames' arm. He couldn't deny the fact that despite his own shortcomings, he still loved them both deeply. "No, Eames. No. It...This has been a long time coming. Oh god."

This was not what Arthur had hoped would happen. This was supposed to be controlled. He had everything planned but now everything was fucked. All over again. "Eames I need to talk to you. I just...can we sit, or something, anything? I need to talk to you."

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dream_bigger
2012-01-26 01:12 am UTC (link)

Long time coming? What?

He looked down at where Arthur had grabbed him, then back up at Arthur's face. "Why do you want to sit to talk to me? Why has your leaving been a long time coming? I don't..."

Escher chose that minute to squirm in between the pair of them, and Eames looked down at the dog. "Kitchen, now," he ordered, and the dog scrambled to obey, thundering down the stairs like he was a baby elephant rather than a small dog.

"I take it you don't want to talk in any of the bedrooms or the art room, then," he said, itching to reach out and pull Arthur close and cling to the man, but he was acting off-limits and God help him, Eames just couldn't think properly to try and put things together himself.

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