[Arthur x Eames] Thief

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I'm not that good in English but when I started writing this in the first place, I just couldn't stop.

สำหรับฉบับภาษาไทย หากอยากอ่านกัน วันหลังจะเรียบเรียงมาให้ใหม่ค่ะ

เนื้อเรื่อง

The Great Thief's Story

            Eames was a free man.
            Literally a free man.
 
            He had no responsibility, no burden, no relative he cares about, no relationship, no certain job, and no home. Yes, he had many accommodations around the world but there's no place he'd call home, not even his hometown. Especially his hometown, England, he still did not call his house a home. And a job? He was good at many things. Sometimes he wandered around, stealing, forging, gambling, lying. But he never stayed doing just one thing. When he was in his late twenties, he was welcomed to dreamshare and made his reputation in just a few years. Not just as a good thief but a great forger. The job in dreamshare business suited him completely. Always move around. Meet people but never stick in just one group.
 
            So he really was a free man.
            Until he met Arthur.
 
            Oh, Arthur. A young lad who was in the business not more than a year and suddenly became the best in the field. Jealous? No. Eames was not that type. Interested? Very. 
 
            Their first meet was from a job, The Cobbs and Eames used to work together sometimes too many, but this time they brought Arthur with them. The said was Arthur was their student, barely graduated yet and still became their point man. There were just 5 people in the team, Dom was the architect, Mal was the extractor, Eames was the forger, Fergus was their chemist, and Arthur was the point man. 
 
            "Hello Mr. Eames." Arthur said it without smiling. His hair was neatly combed. His serious face made him look older and so did his clothes, three-piece-suit and formal coat? That was not what teenagers wear these days. Although he might be the best, he was still young and naive. Eames read him and knew he had effect on Arthur more than he thought.
 
            "Hello darling." And Eames did not get any reply back from him, but he saw his cheek blushed deeply, barely be seen without notice. Luckily Eames was a good observer.
 
            In the job, Eames noticed Arthur almost in every step he took. How his lean, almost skinny body shifted when he lifted the PASIV. How his firmed thigh looked when he sat for hours doing research. Even how his dimples showed when the Cobbs talked to him. Eames could easily saw how protective the Cobbs were toward Arthur, just like Arthur was his own son, so Eames carefully but not-subtly exposed his interest in the boy. 
 
            "He's too precious."
 
            Mal said to him one afternoon when they were alone in the warehouse they use for the job. Her words were protective but could not compare to her tone of voice. She told Eames to step away. Eames had reputation; of course it was not impressive for a mother-like to hear about someone who's interested in her son. A thief. A great independent thief who never cares about people. Eames also had heard the reputation of the Cobbs too, and he did step back. Just only a little less than a half step.
 
            They finished the job in a month. And in one month, Eames had learned some about Arthur. He thought rationally and specifically. He was so good at details but lack of imagination. He worshiped the Cobbs, respected them just like a loyal soldier, but sometimes he acted like a son. And he was also interested in Eames. The way Arthur got annoyed easily only by Eames. The way Arthur mocked back at Eames like he could not hold his patience. It was obvious that Arthur tried to not interest in Eames. And that's what made Eames proud. 
 
            After the job, Eames got a glare from Dominic. Not a scary, hard glare, but it still was a glare, but he couldn't care much. Eames got attached to the young man already. Even he couldn't deny it. 
 
            Eames hadn't heard from Arthur for a year. When he met him again, he was alone. He said the Cobbs were out of the field for good. Mal got pregnant. They quit and did some study about dreamshare instead. So Arthur was alone with his new totem, a red die which surprised Eames a little. He didn't seem to like risks. Again, Arthur was alone, working as a point man with Eames in the team. They still mocked at each other constantly; actually Eames flirted with him constantly. It just made Arthur lose his control.
 
            "Stop playing your game Mr. Eames. It's annoying." Arthur said to him one day during the job after Eames kept calling him darling over and over.
 
            "I'm not playing." Eames used his serious tone and that made Arthur blush. 
 
            After that, they started flirting naturally. Eames always brought Arthur lunch and sat with him. Arthur got Eames coffee every morning. Eames didn't have to tell him how he likes. Arthur knew it all. Young and naive Arthur was in Eames' hand and Eames liked it.
 
            But the job was a terrible mess. Their extractor was not as good as Mal. Their plans were exposed in five minutes after they went under. Amateur extractor. Good things were they had the best point man and the great forger under too. Eames and Arthur seduced the mark and brought the team to topside before it went worse. At topside, their chemist got shot immediately after they woke up. Normally Eames would fight as fast as he could and escape as soon as possible. But then he realized there was Arthur. There was Arthur he couldn't leave behind. Eames was not the best fighter but he can fight well enough. But Arthur, young and naive Arthur, was not the best fighter either. The worse was he wouldn't escape like Eames would, not until he helped everyone. Idiot. And Eames also was one, because when he had a chance to leave, he went back to help Arthur save everyone. 
 
            That was when Eames realized he wasn't a free man anymore. Not with Arthur existed. 
            He couldn't kill Arthur. Good Lord no, he would never do that. All he could do was to step back from Arthur completely. To not get more attached. To not care more than he did. So he stepped back. 
 
            Several months after that job, he got some emails from Arthur. Not about jobs. But they were all about daily messages. Eames never replied any. Before he noticed, Arthur stopped writing too. Four years passed, Eames heard rumor that Dominic Cobb was in the field again, this time as an extractor. There was the word Cobb and Arthur. News about Dom had Arthur's name in it. Months after that, Mal was gone. Eames met the pair again in a job in Hong Kong, they were different. Dominic Cobb looked a little lost and he took more risk than Eames remembered. He extracted as good as Mal ever did. Reckless but exciting. Arthur had grown up and changed. A lot. It was like he lost his naive part completely. He had dead glare, firm muscles, serious looking and his baby young face was always covered by frown. Arthur looked older than Eames expected. Moreover, he stopped caring about what Eames did too. He never blushed even when Eames mocked or teased him, he sometimes snapped back, but mostly Arthur just ignored. Eames felt weird about that. 
 
            "You're going to make your pretty head explode, darling."
 
            "If you have more coffee, no somnasin could get you sleep."
                         
            "Have you ever tried to grow your hair long, darling?" 
 
            A dead glare was all Eames got. It was good, it was what Eames had wanted, but it made Eames' chest tighten. It didn't feel right. He promised himself to step back, to walk out, but he couldn't stop himself to try to get Arthur's attention. He wanted more. He craved more. Even he was the one that gave up on them; he still needed Arthur and Arthur only. And even through his own confusion, Eames did well enough for the job. After the job was finished, he went to the states. He went right to the bar he used to go with Arthur; surprisingly Arthur was there too, alone at the bar, two shots of whiskey in front of him. Eames sat beside Arthur and felt he suddenly stiffed. 
 
            "Hello darling."
 
            "Mr. Eames." Arthur said it sounded like a grunt. 
 
            Eames glanced at him. His hair was still neatly combed, but his suit was loosened. He looked wonderful. No one had spoken for hours. They sat together, ordered more and more drinks, until one of them reached his limit, or both. So they started talking, slurring with words. Some of them made no sense. 
 
            "I don't understand." Eames murmured loudly.
 
            "Me neither." Arthur replied back.
 
            Both of them talked in the same but different thing. Arthur's long, slender fingers were near Eames’ elbow. Neither of them could sit straight without leaning to the bar. 
 
            "I thought we would go further." Eames' words didn't sound like they were from him at all, but Arthur didn't seem to notice.
 
            "You left." Said Arthur.
 
            "You made me insecure." Eames said bluntly and was surprised when Arthur threw his shot at him. Eames was drunkenly confused for a second. His face was soaked but when he saw Arthur expression, he felt slightly more awake. 
 
            "F*ck you and your selfishness, Eames. F*ck. You." Arthur said angrily but not loudly. No one paid attention to them, because neither Arthur nor Eames started punching or nothing had broken yet. Actually they were so calm and quieter than anyone at the moment. 
 
            Eames stared at Arthur's eyes. He couldn't find the young and naive Arthur in them, instead he found deeply wounded Arthur and that he knew he had wounded Arthur himself. Yes, Eames was selfish. Eames was afraid that he would lose his freedom if he had Arthur. Eames was a coward. He knew. It was his fault. 
 
            Eames sat as straight as he could and took one of Arthur's hand in his. Arthur let him. Eames did what he hadn't expected, drunk or not, he just did what he felt he'd like to.

            He apologized.
 
            "I’m sorry, darling. But let me fix this. Please." 

            And Arthur believed him.
 
            "How could you fix five years bullsh*t?" 
 
            "I'll spend my lifetime to fix this. Let me prove it to you." 
 
            "Why should I let you?"
 
            "Because that is my promise, Arthur."
 
            Arthur was silent. His walls were high, but he knew Eames. Even drunk or even as a liar, he'd never make a promise he cannot make. There're always rules in the thieves. There're always limits in the independent ones. 
 
 


 

(They developed their almost secret relationship and been together for 5 years. They were on and off, meeting each other when they were on the same job, sometimes going on a date, calling and messaging. That was how things worked for them.)
 
 

 
            After the Fischer job, Cobb went home to his children and offered everyone a nice dinner together. Ariadne explored the United States with Yusuf. Arthur and Eames had restless sex in Arthur's luxury apartment. Eames stayed with him for the whole month, having a domestic life together for the first time. They were happy. Everything was going well.
 
            Until one day, Arthur left for some business he told Eames, when he came back he said he was leaving for a job. 
 
            "Do they need a thief?" Eames asked.
 
            "They didn't mention. I'll go and do just some research. Nothing interesting." 
            Arthur said while packing his stuff. Eames still lied shirtless in their bed. 
 
            "So you'll come back home soon?" Eames meant back to him, not just the apartment.
 
            Arthur looked and him and gave him a lovely dimples-smile. 
             
            "In a blink of an eye."
 
            And he left.
 
 
 
 

            Three days after that, Arthur sent Eames a message saying he was in Milan and will be off the grid for about a week, so Eames let him. They were adults and Eames was still independent enough to need some space too. That was what Eames told himself to keep his pride. The fact was he trusted Arthur completely. Years of being together had proved it. Arthur was good at what he did. He would come home safely. So Eames waited. He spent the whole week in some casinos, meeting some old mates, stealing some arts and painting a copy of the most beautiful piece of them. Arthur would love it.
 
            A week and three days had passed, Eames started to concern. Arthur was never late. Eames started calling people, began with all of Arthur’s numbers. All of them were unavailable. He called all the teammates. The closest friend to Arthur was Cobb, and he sounded almost panic through the phone. Cobb said he would help Eames find him. Ariadne and Yusuf said the same. Eames started tracking all of Arthur’s unavailable numbers. Their last trails were from all around the world, almost seemed like Arthur didn’t want to be found. Eames just didn’t understand why. They didn’t have any fight. Arthur seemed happy with him. Or was it about the job? Was he in danger? At least he would let someone know. No way had Arthur decided to disappear on his own. Anything could happen in 72 hours in this business. Eames spent the whole night trying to find any of Arthur’s contact. He found Arthur’s 12 apartments in 9 countries, Eames already knew 10 out of them. He checked 5 apartments by phone call and flew to the rest in less than a week to make sure. Arthur was nowhere to be found.
            So Eames tracked more, he tracked from Arthur’s fake names and the real one. Nothing came up. Eames tracked the job in Milan and found the extractor named Ellis. He told Eames the job wasn’t finished yet and Arthur left them in the first three days saying he couldn’t do it anymore. If Eames could be more lost and confused, he surely would lose his mind.  
            Seven days were what Arthur had to cover his trails. That was a plenty of time for him to make himself disappear completely. That was plenty of time for him to make sure that even Eames wouldn’t find him.
            Feeling hurt like he had never felt, Eames moved out from Arthur’s apartment. He went to every casino he found, carrying his latest paint with him.
 
 
 

…

            Arthur was lying in his bed when he heard the bell ring. With some effort, he got up slowly and made his way toward the door. Lately his visitors were limited, but no one came to him without calling first. Arthur grabbed his .77 from under his sofa and opened the door carefully. 

            It was Eames.

            Eames looked horrible. His clothes seemed unwashed for some time, and he hadn't shaved his beard. More than anything else, Eames's grayish blue eyes were hooded, like a wounded dangerous animal. He stared at Arthur. His expression was unreadable. 
 
            "Eames--" Arthur's own voice sounded like a whisper. 

            "How could you do this to me?" Eames' voice sounded angry. Betrayed, and angry. 

            "Eames---" Arthur's voice was trembling, but then he realized that it was not just his voice. His hands also were trembling, his knees were shaking slightly. Eames seemed to notice. He pushed the door open and stepped in Arthur's room without saying a word. Arthur followed him to his own living room. Eames's massive body looked out of place, but he stood there like he had been here all the time. 

            "Sit." Eames said sharply to Arthur. Arthur did what he was told. 
            Eames sat in front of him, eyes barely moved from Arthur's. 

            "Explain to me."

            Arthur inhaled. He didn't prepared for this, but oddly he was calmer with Eames in the room. In the latest two months, he had plenty of panic attacks. Everything felt wrong to him, and he couldn't focus or control anything. Now it felt right. Scary but right. Eames made everything right. Suddenly, he felt so stupid that he left Eames. 

            "I'm sick." Said Arthur. Eames flinched but he kept listening. So Arthur continued. "I've been being sick for a while. I realized it was getting worse when I worked in Milan and then I was scared. Not for myself. I was scared for you. You didn't deserve this, you still don't. And I ran away, hoping you'd go on your way. Just like in the past. I--and I---" 

            Arthur didn't know what else to say.

            "How dare you--" Eames seemed to couldn't continue, but he did. "What did they say?" Eames meant the doctors. Arthur bit his lips a little. 

            "The odds are 20. I may have only months left." 

            Eames stared at him, still angry. "How long has it been already?"

            "Two months." Arthur's mouth went dry. He stole Eames' two months with him away. "I'm sorry, Eames. I'm sorry I did this to you." Then Eames frowned, he somehow got angrier. 

            "You're sorry? You better, you twit!" 

            "I thought it'd be better for you..." But Eames didn't him finish the sentence. 

            "How could you think for me? I don't care if it's logically better for me! And don't you dare trying to protect me from this. Don't you dare stealing my chance to take care of you. Don't you dare, Arthur." 

            Arthur shivered when Eames said his name in his husky voice. It felt like he hadn't heard it forever, and he wanted to hear it more.

            "I guess we were both idiots." Arthur sighed. None of them was good at handling relationship, and both of them f*cked up once or twice. 

            "We were."

            "Would you forgive me, Mr. Eames?" Arthur looked at Eames expectedly. He didn't know what Eames saw in him, maybe a sickly paled skin ex-point man with thinner hair and dark circles under his eyes. But what he saw in Eames what the most wonderful human being he had ever met. The great great thief, Eames might say for himself. 

            "I already did." 

            Then Eames walked to Arthur and kissed him with all he had, like Arthur was the world for him. Indeed he was. 










            Eames never left Arthur since. He usually stayed with him all the time, except when Arthur was asleep, which happened often, Eames went to grocery store or to find something interesting for Arthur. Arthur didn't like taking meds because they made him sleepy. He said when he was asleep, Eames would do something stupid. There was once Eames bought Arthur a hundred of white and red roses. Eames could see Arthur was impressed, but he just smirked and shoved Eames' shoulder playfully instead and said he was not a high school girl. Later Eames found two white and red roses in Arthur's bedside table. 

            Their routine was quite simple. They woke up, had breakfast, read or watched tv. Somedays when the weather was nice, they went out, to the park nearby, or drove to somewhere they want. Then they had lunch, and Arthur would take a nap or just read quietly when Eames painted or read to Arthur. Arthur loved Eames' accent, and sometimes he was too tired to read himself. Arthur usually made dinner, he was good at cooking, with Eames helped. Almost every night they watched movie together, almost every night Arthur fell asleep in Eames's arm. They lived simply. Except when Arthur had to go for the chemo, Eames drove him and waited for four hours to take him home. Those days Arthur wouldn't do so much. He threw up, always had fever, and too tired to stay awake. Those days Eames tried his best not to cry. 

            However, there was something new Eames had learned, Arthur's older brother called every day. Eames had learned that maybe the Cobbs were not the most protective one to Arthur. And when the brother called, mostly he left Arthur some privacy when they talked, sometimes they put him on speaker and talked together, and sometimes Eames talked to Arthur’s brother alone because Arthur was too tired. Eames and Arthur's brother got to know each other a bit. At least Eames knew Arthur was not the only serious man in his family. Maybe his brother was even worse. 

            "How did you know him?" Arthur asked when he waited for Eames to make breakfast. 

            "I didn't. Apparently he knew me first. He let Cobb track him and Cobb told me what he knew."

            "Remind me to smack my brother when I see him next time." Arthur almost growled and Eames chuckled. 










            There were bad days and good days. Bad days were when Arthur was too weak to be himself. But good days were when Arthur could stay awake most of the time. It was rare when Arthur had energy like that, but when something special like Dom and children came to visit, Arthur's enthusiasm always gave him a good day. He drew with the children. Eames called it dimples day, everyone can see Arthur's dimples often that day. He was happy and looked healthier. However, Arthur's drawing was terrible, but the kids loved it. They kept his drawing with them. Dom said they hung it in their bedroom. And Arthur loved the kids' drawings; he hung them on the fridge. With Dom, Arthur would talk and talk, smile and laugh. He never cried. On good days if they were alone, he was regularly himself as Eames saw when they were working, only more relaxed and casual. 

            "Do you miss it?" Asked Eames when he was painting his latest art copy. Arthur wasn't allowed to see it yet. 

            "The job? Sometimes." Arthur replied while typing something on his laptop. When he could stay awake and wasn't be in so much pain, he always made sure to make them stay disappear, even Eames kept telling Arthur that he did it already, Arthur still rechecked again and again. He just needed to. So Eames let him.
 
            "That's why you can't stay away from your device, can you darling?" Eames teased.

            "Just to make sure." When Arthur checked their trail, he looked like the stick-in-the-mud Arthur except this Arthur wore sweat pants and plain tee, and he couldn't stop complaining every now and then because he missed his suits, but Eames wouldn't let him wear them. Keeping Arthur warm and comfortable was important; Arthur just kept being childish about it. He also was skinnier, paler, and had no hair anymore. Arthur shaved his head in a month after Eames moved in. He looked much younger with the clothes and his hat that Eames knitted for him. 

            "I'm offended." 

            "I know you have some tricks in your pocket, Mr. Eames." 

            Eames looked up at him, dropping his brush. "Would you stop calling me Mr. Eames? You make me feel so old." 

            "You are old." Arthur said back. Eames stood up and went to stand behind Arthur. His massive body covered all Arthur's small frame. Eames' eyes lingered on him, remembering every inch of his skin.

            "How young could you be huh, darling?" Eames only said sarcastically, but he was curious too. Eames often forgot that Arthur was still so young, he always looked older with his behavior and taste. When they first met, Arthur looked like 15 no matter how old he was back then.

            "I'm 29, Mr. Eames." 
 
            Arthur took a break from his laptop, leaning his bony back on Eames. He rubbed Arthur's back slowly, feeling the fragile body in his hands. Twenty-nine was so young, so young to even get sick. And then despite how good that good day can be, Eames still wanted to cry, because this wasn't f*cking fair. 
 









            On bad days, Arthur usually had low fever and slept through the day. One evening when Arthur was sleeping, Eames went out for grocery shopping. When he came back, he went to check on Arthur in their bedroom first, but Arthur wasn't there. 

            "Arthur?" Eames looked in the bathroom. Still no sign of Arthur. Until he went to drop the stuff in the kitchen, he found Arthur lying flat on the floor. Eames dropped the bags and rushed to help Arthur get up.

            "Did you fell?" Arthur looked at Eames, he looked confused and frustrated. 

            "No, I was preparing dinner. Then I was tired and I needed to lie down, Eames. I just wanted to make us dinner-I just wanted--I thought--" And Arthur broke down. He started to cry, couldn't stop even when Eames lifted him up and carried him to sofa. He cried so hard, his body was shivering. Eames held him to his chest, rubbed his back softly.

            "Oh Arthur, darling--" 

            Eames kept calling Arthur because he had nothing else to say. He wouldn't say it was okay because it was not. Eames held Arthur until he sobbed and fell asleep in his own tears. The great and the best point man cried like a child because he just wanted to make dinner.

            Eames looked at his darling's face, seeing peace and calm when he was asleep. Eames' tears started to come up, but he didn't let them. He swallowed hard, the great thief like him never cried. It wasn't about being a thief, it was about being him. He didn't cry. Because if he did, who else would be Arthur's strength? Because if he did, Arthur would be sad and sorry again. So Eames didn't cry. He just held Arthur tightly and thought that this wasn't f*cking fair at all. 

            Arthur updated him about every appointment with the doctor. He never told Eames the details specifically. He just told Eames something simple, mostly some bullsh*t Eames wanted to hear.

            "They said I would get worse before I get better."

            He knew even Arthur didn't believe this. But Eames just played along, living in their peaceful fantasy. 

            "I know."

            And Eames kissed him.










            "You know when we worked; I always thought something's gonna happen."

            Arthur said one night when he was lying on top of Eames' half body. Eames' both hands touched Arthur, one held Arthur's smaller hand in his, and one touched Arthur's side. He couldn't stop touching Arthur to feel him, to remember him and he loved when Arthur talked. He loved hearing Arthur's voice. It assured him that the man was alive by side him. Especially lately, Arthur barely went out. He was too tired; it started with him walking slowly, getting up slowly, until finally he just lied in their bed. He said he didn't want to burden Eames when he wanted to go somewhere. Eames didn't agree that he was a burden, but Arthur couldn't keep his eyes open for long enough anyway. So lately they just watched movies and read together. Every paint Eames did was hung in their bedroom walls. Arthur was the one who insisted, he didn't care if they look organized. He just wanted to see what Eames had painted for him when he woke up and before he slept. These paints sometimes helped Arthur calm when he was in agony from joint pain or any pain. Eames was glad he had painted plenty. 

            Eames hummed in response, listening to Arthur's voice and breath. He loved it and was afraid of losing it at the same time. 

            "In the field, we all know we can't expect a normal life to live." Arthur's voice was soft and Eames gently patted his arms.

            "I always thought a bullet would take me down--" And Eames knew where this would go. Arthur was tired, too tired to keep fighting, and it hurt him so much.

            "Shhh. It's been a long day darling. I'm tired, aren't you? Let's get some sleep." Eames tried to sooth him, or to not let him continue what Eames was afraid to hear.

            "I always thought a bullet would take me down, Eames, not this." 

            Arthur's voice was steady but Eames knew from his breathing, Arthur was about to cry already. Eames shut his eyes for a second, wiping away his own tears. 

            "You know what I thought? I always thought we would be cat and dog till our hair turn gray. You’d be wearing your best suit and insulting mine, telling me even I'm sixty two, my fashion still hasn't improved. We would retire and explore the world together. I'd take you to my favorite places, to England." Eames kept saying.

            Then Arthur laughed "You hate England."
           
            "I do." His lips lifted up to a smirk. Arthur laughed a little more. His body shaking on Eames', and Eames continued.

            "But I would take you there, showing you why I hate it, and showing you why I also love it." 

            They were in comfortable silence for a moment.

            "Yeah, I'd love that."

            Arthur said back. And Eames started to tell him stories; he told him everything he knew. He told him about every beauties he had met before, things that Arthur hardly seen. Because Eames didn't know when could Arthur go out and see the world again.

            They are in the park, on a bench they used to sit when there were good days. Today Arthur looks beautiful, healthier and happier. Eames took him here, sitting and admiring the view of green. The weather is nice with clearly blue blue sky. Everything is perfect today.

            "You see the man over there?" Eames pointed to a man who looks like he's in glee, beaming and hovering beside a woman. 

            "Yes, why?" Arthur looks at the couple curiously. He is active and energized. This is the best day of good days for Eames.

            "He's excited. I think it's because his girl said something to him." Watching people was Eames' life, still is. So Eames sometimes brings this topic up, let they observe other's life together, trying to distract Arthur from thinking about his own. 

            "I guess it's something good." Arthur smiles, showing his lovingly dimples. Eames loved seeing him like that. 

            "Well, I'd like to hear it too. Shall you tell me something good?" Eames turns to Arthur.

            "Me?"

            Eames hums and stared sweetly at him. "You look like you have something to tell me all day. What is it, darling?" 

            Arthur leans to Eames slowly. Their noses are a few inches close. Arthur's young face and beautiful brown eyes pins Eames completely. Arthur is his gravity, pinning him to the ground, making him whole. 

            "I'm in remission, Mr. Eames." 

            Eames' eyes are wide and his mouth is open in shock. He sees Arthur starts laughing when he sees his reaction. God, that laughing, is like a bell ring from heaven to his ears. 

            "Bloody hell! Really?"

            "Really." 

            The Eames beams. He can't stop smiling and his cheek starts to hurt, but he doesn't care. He pulls Arthur in his arms. He kisses his forehead, his temple, his cheeks, and his smiley mouth. Eames kisses Arthur desperately, pouring every feeling he has for him, hoping Arthur understands. They laugh and laugh, dance and trip, talk and kiss. The great thief and the best point man are happily in love. 

            Eames wakes up in the house he lived with Arthur. His arm's still connected to the PASIV. He blinks and sees Dom standing over him. His face looks concern and almost angry.

            "Cobb?" Eames' voice sounds confused. He just doesn't know why Dom is here.

            "Come with me, Eames." 

            Cobb sounds sad and a bit angry, but in his eyes, Eames can see understanding. Then Eames remembers why. He regrets immediately that he woke up. He turns to his side and finds a half bottle whiskey, he drinks down what he left off, wishing he never woke up.

            Today is Arthur's funeral. 
            They're going to bury him tomorrow.  
            They're going to bury his darling. And Eames couldn't see it happen.
            He just couldn't.
           
            "No. You know I won't." He pretends to be drunk, but his mind is so clear. His hand is in his pocket, feeling the totem. Reality hurts so badly. 

            "Come on, Eames!" Dom pulled the line of his arm and hold him up angrily. His eyes look hurt just like Eames. He lost Arthur too, just like Eames. 

            "Arthur deserved more than this!" 

            Dom yanks him to the door. Eames knows there's a car waiting outside. Arthur's brother sent it every day, and Eames never got in that car. But Dom is right, Arthur deserved more than this. Hell, he deserved a grand funeral. Hundreds of people come and give him their last salutes. He deserved all the best in the world, including a long life. He was just 29. Eames heart skips a beat thinking about this. Arthur was just 29, young and full of life. He deserved a chance to live. His beautiful darling deserved everything. The least Eames can do is to give him his last goodbye.

            So Eames gets in the car and Dom follows close behind. They ride in silence, drowning in their thoughts. Forty-five minutes ride is too short to prepare for this, but Eames goes out of the car eventually. It's Arthur's house, the one he was born and raised in. Now this three stories luxury house is Arthur's brother, the only relative Arthur had. The house stands tall and proud, presenting how rich and arrogant the family is. Arthur must be so proud of all this. Eames can see where he got his taste from. Then they go inside.

            Standing there is the coffin, Eames can see it the first thing when he steps in the house. It makes his knees weak. The house is crowded but not by too many people, maybe some neighbors, some old college friends, some from the older brother's work, and some from Arthur's. 

            Ariadne and Yusuf are already there, not far from the coffin, guarding Arthur. Even Saito is with them, holding a glass of red wine. And there's Arthur's older brother, he stands with a heavily pregnant woman. He doesn't have baby face like Arthur had. But they still painfully looked alike. 

            Looking at him makes Eames feel sick. Arthur's brother is in his late thirties, surrounded by people who respect him, with a family that soon to have more members, when Arthur had none of them. Eames seems to lose in his mind because he doesn't see when the brother steps closer to him.

            "Hello Mr. Eames." He offers me his hand and Eames takes it firmly. Their sadness links in harmony. The lost breaks them completely.

            "Mr. Cohen." Eames replied, and Edward Cohen leads him to the coffin. His beautiful wife leads other people to another room, leaves Ariadne, Yusuf, Saito, Dom, Edward and Eames in the coffin room. Eames steps closer to the coffin. The white noise of the others is left behind. Eames doesn't blink, not until he stands beside the coffin, which Arthur lays in it. 

            Arthur, Arthur, his beautiful Arthur, he looks so peaceful like he is sleeping. His thin lips lift up slightly. He looks so young in the coffin. Eames touches his face, and it's so cold. 

            "He's not in pain anymore." Eames hears his voice saying it but he doesn't know he did. He also hears Ariadne's soft sobbing, but Eames still focuses on Arthur. 

            "Yes, he's not." Edward whispers. 

            Then Eames sees what Arthur is wearing. It's his light brown chino pants and plain white oxford shirt. 

            "Who dressed him like this?" Eames' voice sounds pissed even to his own ears. "Who dressed him like this? He preferred three-piece-suit than chinos. He liked it with a coat. Who the hell chose this for him? No. Not like this. He shouldn't go like this." 

            He shouldn't go like this.

            He feels Edward's hand on his shoulder, and Eames starts murmuring to himself. "He liked wearing his suit. He said it felt right and he liked to be just like his brother."

            Eames traced his finger from Arthur's neck to his chest, cupping Arthur's hand in his. Then Eames feels the bright red die in Arthur's right hand. Arthur's not going to need his totem anymore. He's not dreaming, never going to wake up. Arthur doesn't have to be careful to not get lost between dreams and reality. Because he is dead.

            Arthur is f*cking dead.

            Eames feels tears running down on his cheek. "He was an early bird, unless he was too tired. He--he used to wake up much earlier than me just to make me coffee, to thank me for taking care of him. That little twit." Eames chuckles a little, tears run down on his face.

            "He was so smart, so beautiful. I wish I could have him forever. I wish I had a chance to grow old with him. I wish he had a chance to see what we could be--" 
           
            Eames fell on his knees, his forehead touches Arthur's coffin. Everyone in the room is silent, letting their tears mourn for Arthur.  

            "I love you." 

            Eames whispers and gets up to give Arthur one last kiss on his cold lifeless lips. 






            And that is it. That is the story of the great thief named Eames. 

            The Great Thief who is now crying because he lost his greatest charm, love. 

             And he would never get him back.

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Notes

Hope you guys enjoy.

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