tabi_essentially | Life During Wartime - 10 - WIP Warning: homophobia, implied torture

Life During Wartime - 10 - WIP Warning: homophobia, implied torture

The pain becomes a dull roar as Eames lies down on his side in the bed, Arthur fussing with blankets and pillows and looking worried and distant. Eames finds his fussiness weirdly soothing. So efficient and fluid. Watching Arthur get fussy like this has always either amused him or distracted him from his own troubles, and this is no exception. Sometimes he would push Arthur's very obvious buttons just to see him get like that.

But exhaustion is also weighing him down. He's lost track of all time; it could be morning or night for all he knows, and the clock is turned away from him.

Arthur bothers him with a glass of warm water yet again, making him lean up on his elbow to drink it. Eames does so with the air of one long-suffering, even though he secretly knows better. Arthur has done everything right. He usually does, whether he wants to admit it or not.

"Any better?" Arthur asks, when he's done drinking. He looks pale, bruised, so tired that he might float away.

"Yes," Eames says, even though he doesn't think he'll be 'better' any time soon, at least not without pain killers. But then, a little pain never hurt anyone, after all. "Very much, Arthur."

Instead of lying down with him, or even in the next bed over, Arthur paces, checking the window, checking the lock on the door, and then the window again.

"You're making the air nervous," Eames says. "Can't you be still? Come here to me."

Arthur does. After checking the window one more time (Eames isn't sure what he expects to see out there; it only leads to a small court and not the parking lot,) he comes to the bed and sits on the edge. His shoulders drop and he scrubs his hand over his face, the picture of exhaustion.

"It's not done yet," he says.

"I know." And he does. Kelly's not dead; Arthur would have told him if he was. Instead he's been quiet about it. "But in the mean time, what can you do?"

"I can go look for Yusuf. I tried his cell."

"It's only been a little while." Eames isn't sure if that's true or not, but it feels like it. Yet even as he says this, he knows he's lying. A little while or not, Yusuf is in trouble. He knows it the way he always knows trouble. "And where would you look?"

"I don't know."

Eames scoots over on the bed, making room. Every move sends a hot throb of pain through his back, his legs and his neck, but he doesn't let it show. Arthur doesn't need his troubles now; he's done enough. "Come on," he urges, patting the bed.

And Arthur, who never likes sharing a bed or even sharing space sometimes, lies down next to him, staring at the ceiling. Eames carefully drapes an arm across his stomach. Arthur utterly surprises him by laying his cold fingers over his hand. In all the years they've known each other, they've playfully fooled around, fucked once in a while, and not-so-playfully fought over issues great and small; they've each had a turn saving the others' arse and they've worked together as a team, and sometimes apart, as rivals. They've looked inside each others' minds and even shared totems. Yet in all that time, they've always shied away from actual intimacy. Since he's known Arthur, his body language has always read "keep out", and he has always bridled at physical contact that he didn't initiate himself.

This new Arthur—the one who kisses him in front of mirrors and rests his hand over Eames's—this creature worries him a little.

"All right there, Arthur?" he asks. He still can't get his voice above an annoying fucking whisper.

"Yeah." Arthur's voice is a whisper, too. "Why are you asking me? You're the one I'm worried about."

"I've crawled home from worse," Eames says. He's lying. He hasn't ever been hurt this badly. He hasn't ever come so close to dying. He doesn't let it get to him though; it's pointless to dwell on it.

He's just about letting his eyes close when he hears a soft knock. Arthur jumps up like he's on fire and goes to the side door, the one that adjoins the rooms. Eames feels Cobb's presence in the room before he hears him speak; he's always good at identifying a person by vibe alone.

"Did you get the call from my connection?" Arthur asks.

"Yeah. Arthur..."

"Did you tell him everything?"

"Yeah. Arthur listen."

"Are they on their way?"

"Arthur." Cobb's voice is sharp. Eames hears alarm in it, and he pushes himself up one one elbow. The two of them are behind him, and he can't turn his head to see them without his neck and back screaming in pain.

"Come around this way, you lot," he says, waving his hand. "Let me in on it."

The two of them make their way to the other side of the bed, Arthur now holding his own cell phone and looking not just worried, but actually upset.

"What is it?" Eames says. "What's Kelly got to say? Read it to me."

Arthur glances from the phone to Eames. Then back at the phone. "'I know the extractor called in the feds by now. Call them off if you know what's good for you. Cobb forgot I know where his kids are.'"

Cobb sinks down on the edge of the bed and drops his face into his hands.

"Get the feds out to your kids," Eames says.

Cobb says, "I called first thing. They were curious why I was involved with someone like Kelly."

"I can take care of that," Arthur says. "We're not on the wrong side anymore, Cobb. The guy I know there, he..."

"I know," Cobb says.

"Why aren't you heading home?" Arthur asks.

"Because the kids are already on a plane to Paris with their grandfather. Go on, tell him the rest."

Arthur's mouth is a tight line, as if he can't do enough to rectify this, when none of it was his fault to begin with. Cobb's grief and worry are lying across his shoulders again. Arthur looks back down to the phone and continues reading the text.

"'Also, did you think I couldn't track my own fucking car? You kidnapped my son, so I'm getting reacquainted with your chemist.'" He opens his mouth as if to continue, then closes it again with a cursory glance to Eames.

"Go on," Eames says. If Arthur thinks that he doesn't know all of his tells by now, he's a fool.

"It's not important." Arthur grabs a jacket out of the hanging wardrobe and begins to put it on.

"Take that fucking coat off and finish the text, Arthur."

Cobb offers no input; he just sits on the edge of the bed, worried eyes watching Arthur make his decision.

"You're not leaving," Eames insists.

"You know I have to."

"The fucking feds will be on him less than an hour if Cobb called it in already."

"And Yusuf might already be dead by then," Arthur snaps. "That matters to you, right?"

The words sting like the whip did. "Of course, you arsehole, but you going after him is not going to stop him. You know that. He'll have men waiting for you, an army of them." His voice is beginning to run dry; his throat burns like he's swallowed bleach and glass. "You're one man, Arthur. You forget that sometimes." In more ways than one, Eames thinks, but doesn't say out loud. He doesn't need to confront Arthur That Was right now. Or really ever.

"I'll be back in a little while." Arthur grabs his Glock, refusing to look at anyone. "Cobb, stay here until I get back."

He grabs one thing from his suitcase: A kevlar vest. And then he's out the door.

Eames feels a fury that he hasn't felt in a long time. The pain makes it worse, pounding behind his eyes, hot and bright. He wants to hit something, shoot something in the face. But he can't even turn over yet.

"Why didn't you fucking stop him?" he rasps at Cobb, his own voice making him even angrier because he can't yell like he wants to. "What do you think he's going to accomplish aside from getting killed?"

Cobb doesn't turn to face him as he answers. "I've known Arthur since he was in college," he says, his voice low. "There's never been a time when I could stop him from doing anything. Anything. Mal used to try. Sometimes she could get him to listen. But not if he was really set on something. That's who he is, Eames. You should know that by now. Arthur wouldn't be Arthur if he was even remotely stoppable. And he also wouldn't survive."

Eames knows that's true, but still. Dread finally sinks into his bones and he falls sideways onto the bed. "He's just one man," he repeats. "Tell me what the rest of the text said."

Cobb takes a second to think it over. "Basically that he wants Arthur to come alone, and he would trade Yusuf for him. He mentioned that Arthur had hurt him. Which he did." Finally Cobb turns to him. His eyes are bright and he doesn't look as concerned as he should. "See, that's the thing," he says. "Arthur knocked Kelly's teeth out. But not only that, he totally annihilated his pride. He shot out his windows, took out his thugs, freed you, and just... Kelly's totally humiliated. He's not going to kill Arthur right away. He wants to even the score first."

"Even fucking better," Eames says, but he kind of already knows what Cobb is telling him by now.

"It is better," Cobb says. "It will buy Arthur and Yusuf some time. If he can stall long enough, the feds will get there before any real shit goes down. And, Eames, you know that Arthur has a few last minute tricks that he keeps to himself. He fights better at close range. He could take care of it."

"Could," Eames repeats. "Could is not enough."

** ** ** **

My hair combed back like a raven's wing
My muscles hard and tight
And curling from the business end of my gun
Was a query-mark of cordite

When Arthur gets into the car that Eames had stolen for them, he looks down to the plug that says "AUX" and thinks of the trip up here. It's not Talking Heads he's thinking of now, not Rachmaninoff even, or Pink Floyd. He's just mildly wondering what he'll play for Eames on the way back down.

Leonard Cohen, he thinks. Or – no - maybe Nick Cave. Murder Ballads. He could be in the mood for that, once this is over.

And after this morning, it will be over. He's so fucking through with this.

He starts the car and heads off to the ruined warehouse, where Kelly said to meet him, one on one (which he knows is bullshit.)

The sky is still dark when he kills the headlights and turns the corner, but a fluorescent glare illuminates the sides of the building he's pulling around. Floodlights, it looks like. He parks the car and walks the rest of the way. The morning is bitter cold but a coat would only be bulkier and slow him down. He hates the kevlar to begin with, if anything it makes him feel even more exposed. And nothing can protect against a headshot.

Kelly is waiting for him at the ruined door of the warehouse. He seems to be alone, but a quick glance up into the windows of the Towers and onto the nearby rooftops reveals his backup. Just shadows, but shadows with guns trained on him.

"Ahaha," Kelly laughs, when he sees him. "Knew you come." His mouth is a black hole and he can't form words with it. He's cleaned up the blood but the jagged edges of what remains of his real teeth give him the appearance of having small fangs.

"Send Yusuf out," Arthur says.

"Row down your weh-hon. All uh 'em."

Arthur takes out the Glock and puts it on the ground in front of him, kicks it a few feet away, then raises both hands. He's done this scenario enough times that he knows what's expected of him. He also knows he's in way over his head. And that he doesn't have a choice.

Hopefully, Kelly will want to play a little first. And with any luck, Arthur can keep his interest for a while.

Kelly comes forward and takes the Glock, pocketing it. Then he walks a few steps more until he's about a foot in front of Arthur. He smiles, purposefully, and licks the shards of teeth he's got left.

"Know how muh' 'is cos' me?"

"I never actually looked into the cost of cosmetic dental work," Arthur says. "Sorry." He smiles himself then, to make a point.

Kelly laughs again, an empty sound. Arthur realizes that he's on pain killers, and thinks maybe he's got an edge if that's the case.

Kelly comes even closer and brackets Arthur's waist with his hands, slipping them under his jacket. Arthur holds perfectly still, wondering what the fuck he has in mind and if he means to do whatever it is with all of his thugs looking on – this, he will absolutely end now, even if it kills him.

Except Kelly just frisks him for another weapon, checking his holsters and belt first. He's thorough about it, and way too fucking handsy. He takes Arthur's phone out of his pocket, his fingers moving a little too slowly. He has to drop to his knees to check his pants, and he does so with that cracked, empty grin that Arthur thinks he might see in his dreams for a few weeks.

"Having fun?" Arthur asks.

Kelly just keeps on grinning.

"I'm clean. Send Yusuf out."

"You in no huh-sition oo gi' orders. I coul' kill oo righ' here."

Arthur knows this perfectly well and forces a smile. "But that's not what you want to do. I'm willing to be reasonable with you, Mr. Kelly. Send Yusuf out and I'll go where you want me to go." He can see Kelly thinking it over, his eyes dancing with madness. The look in those gleaming eyes, the brutal excitement, almost drains Arthur of his nerve.

Then Kelly backs off a step and signals with his hand. After a few tense moments, Yusuf walks dazedly out of the ruined warehouse, shielding his eyes from the glaring floodlights.

"I want to see him turn the corner, get into the car I left, and drive away without being followed, Kelly. It's that, or you just shoot me here and we never get to go wherever."

Kelly makes a pretend bow with a flourish of his hand, as if he's granting Arthur a gentlemanly wish.

"Arthur!" Yusuf calls, when he sees him.

"Go on, Yusuf," Arthur says. "Get in the car and drive." Yusuf stares at him, looking unsure. "I got this," Arthur says. Even though he knows no such thing.

He watches carefully until Yusuf is well around the corner.

"Lead the way, Mr. Kelly," he says.

Kelly gestures with the gun for Arthur to go ahead, indicating the warehouse. Arthur knows what's up there on the loft. He's already had a look around there, and he knows the layout, where things are placed. Things he can throw, or hit someone with.

But once inside, Kelly pushes him toward the back. There's a double-door built into the cement of the floor. He makes Arthur open it, revealing cement steps leading into a basement. An instant later, the smell of waste and rot hits him so strongly that he pulls away, fighting not to retch. This was what he had smelled earlier, and assumed it was from the years of torment that had gone on in Kelly's "entertainment room." Now he understands that it came from down here. Where the real action is, he thinks.

Panic tries to shudder up through his bones; he fights it down. They'll get here in time. The feds will get here in time and they'll figure out where they are. In the meantime, he picks his way carefully down the steps by the dim light that seeps in from above.

Once at the bottom, Kelly hits a light-switch. It bathes the surroundings in a sick, dull yellow glow. Chains hang from the walls here, and from the ceiling. Leather, metal-pronged items that Arthur can't even imagine uses for sit rusted on long tables. An X-shaped rack dominates the entire room in the center, and next to it, what looks like a recycled autopsy table, grated on the bottom to let blood drain out, with straps built into it.

But none of this is the worst of it. The worst is the pile of human bones in the corner.

Above, someone slams the double-doors shut. Someone who will stand guard up there until Kelly is finished doing whatever he wants to do.

The room is sound-proofed, too. He can see it in the walls.

Arthur is shaking now, fighting against revulsion and panic that make the dream they'd shared look like a dinner party.

Then Kelly starts talking again.

"I liked you pah-ner, mis-er Eames. Had a goo' 'ime wi' him. He trie' kee' quiet. 'Oo bad I ne-er go' him down here."

A very old rage builds up at the base of his spine; the kind of rage that had caused him such trouble as a teen, when he was careless with his fists, when no one suspected that the lanky, quiet kid with glasses who pulled the good grades could put any weight behind his fist. How good it had felt to let that rage go, sometimes. The confidence that came with throwing that first sucker punch.

Arthur turns around to Kelly and says, "God, I am so fucking done with you."

Kelly just smiles with his red gums and jagged fangs and aims the gun.

NEXT PART

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

guuuhhhh i love & hate the suspens you put me through >

Yeah, that makes me happy! ^_^ I really hope the next part satisfies. :D

Oh crap. Cliffhanger much? lol. I look forward to the next chapter!

I'm a big fan of writing open-ended chapters but I get frustrated when I read them. Sorry. ;D I will absolutely have the next one up soon! Thank you!

I've hit you with an F-bomb explosion before, so this time... Goddamn it all to hell, but you know how to twist the damned knife with cliffhangers. I mean, Christ. And I knew there was trouble with Yusuf. Had to be. But I really hope Arthur makes it through this...

LOL awesome, I loved the F-bomb explosion! :D You know what's funny, I didn't even really plan on this chapter or the following one. Though by now I kinda know how it ends. :D I hope you'll like it!

Thanks, as always!

FFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

D:

LOL! Awesome. :D

ahrg how can you post a new chapter when i have to go >-<
ahrg i could read it at least
I LOVE IT
but you
are so
MEAN >-<
Arthur kill him now please D:

Haha, sorry for my sucky timing! ^_^

I actually only JUST decided what Arthur has to do to end this. Hmm. *strokes chin* I hope you'll like it! :D

no problem :D

uhh I'm excited already :D

I am so fucking done with Kelly too. He creeps me the hell out - and that image of him smiling with his broken teeth and his gums is going to haunt my imagination. Gah.

You are crazy with the suspense, good god. I can't wait to see what happens next. With Eames/Arthur, who are SHOWING SIGNS OF INTIMACY (which brings up the saying: you never appreciate what you have until you've lost it...or in this case, almost lost it.). With Arthur and Kelly.

I am terrified for Arthur, because HE'S panicking now. And I know Arthur wouldn't panic if there wasn't a serious reason for it. Please please please don't hurt him TOO badly.

(When Arthuer gets into the car that Eames had stolen for them, he looks down to the plug that says "AUX" and thinks of the trip up here. It's not Talking Heads he's thinking of now, not Rachmaninoff even, or Pink Floyd. He's just mildly wondering what he'll play for Eames on the way back down.

Leonard Cohen, he thinks. Or – no - maybe Nick Cave. Murder Ballads. He could be in the mood for that, once this is over.

-That made me smile so widely. So so widely.)

Oh, thank you for that! I'm so cheap, Arthur's and Eames's playlists are essentially my own. ^_^ Maybe it's sort of sad that when I was listening to that handful of lines from that song I thought, "Oh, Arthur!" LOL.

I will try not to hurt him too badly and I hope you'll be happy with what comes next. :D

Thanks!

Oh my god. What a cliffhanger! I literally held my breath through the end of this chapter. Oh, Arthur, stay strong.

I'm so glad! :D I was hoping it would be exciting. Thank you so much!

Ooh, Juggernaut Arthur resurfaces. When he does that emotional disconnect, you know the person on the receiving end is in trouble. Kelly's gonna be picking out organ music ;)

Loved him fussing over Eames too, and also "But then, a little pain never hurt anyone"- duh Eames, that's kind of the very definition of what pain does ;)

Gahhh I love when you say that, it makes Arthur seem so hot. :D Oh man, it was only just today that I decided what Arthur has in store for him. I really hope you'll like it. ^_^

"A little pain never hurt anyone" is something I often find myself saying, in martial arts and stuff, but yeah, it's usually in those "OMFG, this hurts like a bitch" kinds of moments. Which is quite concerning. :)

Thank you as always!

Destroy him, Arthur! WITH FURNITURE! :D

The tension you've built is amazing!!

Oh man, the things I have in store. I really hope they'll satisfy. :D I'm glad that the tension is working out! I always question that. Thank you! ^_^

Oh. Oh, you are EVIL. You and cliffhangers, gah! My teeth hurt just thinking about Kelly. Kill the bastard already ! D:

Oh man, I hate teeth stuff! It's like nightmare fuel for me. Oh, I have such an idea for Kelly, I hope it isn't too creepy or whatever. Hope you'll like it! ^_^

Thanks!

KELLY'S TEETH, or his gums with pointy fangs, HOLY FUCK, GIRL. You should write horror. I WILL have nightmares.

Oh, Arthur! Please be okay....

Still loving this story Tabs. It's my favorite thing that I'm reading right now.

Thank you! I am a huge horror fan but I never consider myself that scary. Gross and disturbing maybe. :) It's cool if someone finds it scary!

Thank you, I'm so glad to hear it!

*wimpers*

Kill kill kill Arthur! Destroy them.

Well, I'm nearly finished re-reading the next section and I should have it up tonight, and we'll see what Arthur is getting up to. :D

Thanks, as always!

You and your cliffhangers. They kill me, they really do. BAAAAAMF!ARTHUR!!!!

Hehe, so sorry! ^_^ It is kind of mean, I'll cop to that. :D

Nothing I love more in this fandom than rageful!Arthur.

Thank you!

So many new chapters and then I reach a goddamn cliffhanger! Guess it had to happen at some point.

All this tender intimacy is killing me more than anything. I hope they'll be reunited soon.

Aww, sorry! I will probably update tonight. :D Won't keep you waiting that long, really! ^_^

I'm trying not to make them schmoopy but I do so love this pairing.

Thanks so much!

Oh no. I can only hope that Arthur's hand-to-hand combat will work in his advantage.

I just wanted to say that your insights into the characters are really well-placed within the prose & dialogue.
Lines that stuck out to me (that I particularly liked):
~"You're making the air nervous," Eames says.~ ^_^
~A little while or not, Yusuf is in trouble. He knows it the way he always knows trouble.~
~[H]e rasps at Cobb, his own voice making him even angrier because he can't yell like he wants to.~

~Arthur wouldn't be Arthur if he was even remotely stoppable. And he also wouldn't survive.~ So true. No way that he could have done that crazy flying-through-windows-without-aide-of-a-broomstick without an unshakable determination.

What made me grin and think *this* is why Arthur is so BAMF was this line: ~ He's just mildly wondering what he'll play for Eames on the way back down. ~ Hehehe. ^_^

Oh man, how did I miss this comment for a whole month? I'm so sorry. Wow, I really love it when people find specific things that really worked for them. (SPECIFICITY! :D ) It gives me a clue of how to write in the future, knowing what sounded cool. :D

Thank you so much for this. I'm sorry I missed it until now!

ou have no idea how much courage i needed to read this part, because Kelly getting Yusuf definitely SLAYED me... And you end it here?!? So glad i don't have to wait for the next part!!!

*points up* All this being of course a tribute to how good your writing is!

Thank you so much! Yeah, it's cool to read something already finished so you odnt' have to wait. :D I get that. hehe. &_& I know I tend to do cliffhangers. :)

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Life During Wartime - 10 - WIP Warning: homophobia, implied torture

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