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[personal profile] tabi_essentially
These are older suggestions, some of them even from the beginning! But eventually I will get to them.

[ profile] orgasmblush said, I would very much like for Arthur, however much of a BAMF he may be, to just not be able to save himself, like, once. And, yeah: Eames can totally take care of himself and Arthur AND Michelle. I'm talking, like, whipping boy Arthur, here: bloody, bruised, confused and completely paranoid about just what the hell is going on in his mind and, because of that, not exactly trusting Eames anymore. This hits just about all of my kinks. :D

[ profile] fae_boleyn - I really want to see Michelle helping the boys out with this situation somehow In fact, almost everyone wanted to see this scenario! :D [ profile] twilightthief: I definitely want to see Michelle do some bad ass stuff too. [ profile] towel_master - So maybe Michelle will have to prove herself outside of Eames's patronizing view of her? Maybe she steps in to try and protect him?

[ profile] wirrrn - I'd love to see Eames get in trouble, Arthur BAMF out to rescue him, only to find that Eames has already handled the situation. He's a BAMF to, after all :) A lot of people agreed with this!

[ profile] twilightthief - Maybe Eames has to defend himself without the help of his gun or Arthur. IDK I think I just want Eames being caught in a tight spot using what he has available in the "shoot out" or whatever. And also, I also would like to see Eames like fighting his way through the train. I keep seeing him rush through the corridors and aisles of seats with Michelle protectively behind him as he's shooting. Great image! I'm going to try it.

[ profile] gelbwax - And then he tries to get Eames to do something to Arthur? But he resists! And then Eames TAKES THAT FUCKER DOWN. Using only items he can find in the dining car, which is where he's been trussed up and left for dead. And on top of that, [ profile] skyvehicle said, what if tremors give way to like, Dr. Strangelove hand? lol, until it tries to choke Arthur after Arthur tries to break into their train car? oooh. Umm. :D Hope this is what you were looking for, it's sort of brutal though. ^_^

[ profile] twilightthief also says, I like the idea that Michelle really isn't who she seems. There's something more to our Pokemon lovin' friend. Also, [ profile] we_reflamingos says, Michelle has got to be the key to something. A revelation, inspiration, information - she's aces and needs a part to play. Perhaps her parents do too, maybe in that so-clueless-don't-know-what's-going-on-but-it-helps kind of way. I kinda maybe semi-sorta know of something I want to do with her, actually. :D

Anonymous said, How about if Eames turns into a killing machine after getting beat up? I'd like to see that. I WOULD TOO. :D

[ profile] mydeerfriend - I'd really like to see Eames go through some sort of shit but NOT get saved by BAMF Arthur. Because Eames is awesome enough to save himself from danger (and then maybe Arthur would feel bad that he didn't/couldn't help Eames). It is time for Eames to save himself, eh? :)

[ profile] astheytick - Arthur says to Eames "Just wait. Wait for me." I think I can use this in the next chapter, finally. :D

[ profile] twisted_ream there's this huge spider on eames' back and he can't get it off and arthur just laughs Actually? I kind of think this is going to come somewhere near the end. :)

[ profile] efcia a broken mirror, possibly a small one. I can see the shattered glass, maybe even a small amount of blood on them? This gave me a really cool idea! We already know which mirror this could be. :D And I sorta have an idea now on how that might play out. Actually, as of now I'm REALLY certain. ^_^

Anonymous suggests, One having to carry the other.

[ profile] gelbwax says, WHAT IF the wind whips the fedora off Arthur's head and into the siberian wasteland. OMFG, horror, right? AND THEN. AND THEN. It comes BACK TO HIM. THE FEDORA COMES BACK. RIGHT WHEN HE NEEDS ITS POWERS OF BADASSERY IT COMES BACK TO HIM.
I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. Not in this chapter, but probably the next! :D

[ profile] hazysea - A line for Eames to say to Arthur? "Stay at my level and keep to the shadows.

Here are some new suggestions.

You overwhelmingly wanted them to somehow work this out between them. I'm relieved. :D

When I asked how I could possibly resolve this thing that's happening between them, [ profile] we_reflamingos suggested,
I wonder if, for some reason, Arthur & Eames were deep enough together again, Eames might recognise a certain ray gun or a bottle of healing. Or perhaps in Eames hospital (where all the important stuff is) - Arthur only went to the the top floor ... but I'm sure that glass elevator could stop at other floors. Oh, and what goes up, usually also goes down.

[ profile] gelbwax Tiny request- can you give Eames a solid face beating? And Arthur can kiss it better? LOL I can't guarantee that I can ruin his prettiness too badly. But I do promise to throw in some abuse from which he can in turn be a total badass and of course at some point, Arthur can kiss him better. Maybe. If it works out. :D Well, everyone says they want them to work this out, so. ^_^

[ profile] safaiagem - a scene with Arthur sitting on a chair looking out a window when someone sits next to him shoving a gun in his side. They have to act like nothing is wrong or it will start a panic while discussing, idk, how they are going to kill each other. This gave me at least an idea for something I can use later. :)

[ profile] sparrow_hubris said I want this but with Eames instead of Laura.
OMFG you don't even realize! ^_^ My fetish for Arthur's hair!

[ profile] twilightthief agrees, Agreed on the hair playing/smoothing! ME TOO BB.

This chapter is a little shorter than the last. I debated putting in another part and posting it later, but that would be kinda mean (although, this one sort of is too,) and the chapter just naturally ended here. :)

Here we are!

** ** ** **

Eames was a mess, and when Arthur tried to put his hands on him, finally alone together in their room, Eames shoved him away and sat heavily on the bottom bunk. He dropped his head into his hands.

"Care to explain to me what the fuck is going on?" Arthur asked. Because anger was better than fear; it was easier. It also came on stronger, changed the shivering into more manageable shaking, and overall just felt better. It made him strong instead of weak. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew it could get out of control. But he let it go on. "Because I swear, Eames, I don't know what I'm seeing here."

When Eames looked up at him, with that sickening mix of guilt and hurt in his eyes, Arthur felt all of his bravado drain out. He didn't know how to deal with shit like this. He made it a point not to work with this kind of drama, ever. Well, not since Cobb anyway, and back then he had overlooked much of that bullshit, for Mal, for the kids and for everything the Cobbs had done for him. He and Eames had been solid for so long, this was a new landscape for him. He didn't know what to do with it.

"Just tell me," he said. His voice sounded small, not nearly as angry as he'd meant for it to. He fought to hang onto his irritation, to the anger. He clung to it like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood.

Eames just stared up at him with red-rimmed eyes.

Arthur felt like he was in the room with a stranger. "He drugged you. How bad is it?"

"Yes," Eames said, finally. He didn't sound sluggish or drugged, though. "Yes, they did at first, but the effects have worn off."


"Come here to me, Arthur."

For the first time in many years, Arthur pulled back from that focused gaze – and he did so out of primal mistrust. Strangers were unpredictable. He didn't know how to act, how to respond; he couldn't read this person or glean his intentions. He glanced to Eames's hip for a weapon and didn't see one.

"Please," Eames said. This time he held out his hand, palm up.

This is fucking ridiculous, Arthur thought, and took the two strides that brought him in front of Eames. He slid his hand into Eames's and gripped tight. Eames tugged him a little closer, still looking up at him.

"You gave me to SomniCore," he said.

Arthur froze. "Eames. SomniCore is gone. We took care of that. Remember?"

Eames nodded, dazed. "I know. I meant before. Twelve years ago. Do you remember that?"

His breath caught in his throat. Yes, of course he remembered. It had been when he'd first started tracking him, and his overseers had wanted the information on this new talent, this forger out of England. Luke Bishop.

"That's right," Arthur said. "I located you for them. I tracked you down for years, you were my biggest project."

"Quite," Eames said. "I just never knew that it was you who handed me to them the first time."

"Of course it was. Eames, why are you bringing this up now?"

"Do you have any idea what they did to me?"

Arthur tried to pull his hand away, but Eames held tighter. "I don't – no, I don't. I didn't give it much thought."

"Well it doesn't matter," Eames said. "It really doesn't, because what I did to you was far worse."

"Okay." He tried to calm his stuttering heart. This was leading to something terrible, something that Arthur didn't want to hear about. Eames had betrayed him. They were coming to kill him now, right here, on this train. "When? And how? Please." The hand gripping his started to shake. "Eames?"

Eames's hand trembled harder, the same kind of spasming it had been doing that morning; christ, not even twelve hours ago, and already everything had changed. It had only taken a few hours.

"God, I can't even touch you," Eames said. He pulled his hand back and cradled it in his lap.

Arthur got to his knees in front of him. He didn't know what else to do, so he snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Hey," he barked. "What is this shit? Yes you can." He took that same hand and put it against his face. It felt cold and strangely alien. Eames pulled back as if he'd been burned.

"I can't, because you're not mine. You never have been and you can't be, after what I did to you."

"What did you do?"

"It was called Project Voodoo," he said. "It started fourteen years ago, two years before you caught up to me actually. And Arthur, for all that they tormented me for weeks, it is still nothing close to what I inflicted on you."

This all sounded like babble, and now, on top of his panic and anger, he was getting really fucking annoyed. "You're really going to have to explain this to me," he said. "Now."

Eames told him the story, staring at the wall behind him as if he was telling it to no one, or simply recording it without emotion. Arthur felt like his brain was coming unraveled. How could this be? He didn't remember a thing. None of this sounded familiar; yet it made sense. It filled in the gap that Ann had described to him, those lost four months of school. He'd made his grades and kept up with his classes, but he could not remember a single day of that time.

"Because they erased it," Eames said, nearing the end of the story. "Like they did with all of us, they erased the project, and Arthur, they were going to erase you, too. And I was going to let them. It was Ann who saved you. She called in a favor to spare your life, while I walked away like nothing had happened. I spent months forging your darkest secrets, worming into your head, fucking around with your fears and failures and then I threw you to the dogs. I'm sure you are well aware of what all that mind-rape did to you after that."

And that, Arthur could remember. The night terrors, hell, night psychosis, for nearly a year after that lost winter. How he'd nearly failed out of college, and no one could share a dorm with him, the psychologists and psychiatrists and, fuck everything, the cops and the FBI, the hypnotism and the endless meddling by the system to find out what was wrong with him, what he had done that was so terrible that it had turned his dreams into living horrors. And all they could come up with was that he'd lost his girlfriend in high school and he should not be having such an extreme stress reaction to that.

He pulled his hands over his hair, trying to smooth down his edges. He took a breath. Fourteen years ago. And after that, Dom and Mal had come along and had finally, blessedly, helped him. And then SomniCore.

He dropped his head against Eames's thigh and came to a decision.

"Whatever," he said. "It's all right."

"What's all right?" Eames sounded mystified.

"Everything. What you did. What ,they did. It has to be. I'll talk to Ann. Thank her, give her whatever she wants, and ask her to just leave us alone. It's okay, is what I'm saying. Eames." He looked up at him, gripping his calf and giving him a little shake. "I mean it. It's all right. Is... I mean is it... Do you forgive me for what I did to you?"

"Yes," Eames said. He still sounded, and looked, lost. As if he had not expected this.

"Then what the fuck?" Arthur said. "It was fourteen years ago, I didn't know you, you didn't know me. How many times did we work for separate people, even work against each other? It's over. Why does this surprise you?" He thought of Dinclusin's hand on Eames's back, and considered, for a second, It isn't over. Then he banished the thought as useless. Dinclusin had tried to put his hands all over Eames since day one on the train; that last time a few minutes ago was really no different.

"I guess... I don't know," Eames said. "It shocked me--shocks me still—that I could hurt you like that and then throw you away. And I suppose it shocks me also that you handed me over for a few rounds of torture."

"Torture?" His ribs felt too tight for his lungs, like he was being squeezed by a giant, cold hand. "With – with SomniCore?"

"Yeah." Eames sounded hollowed out and cold.

"I didn't know. I swear to you. I didn't."

"Would it have stopped you?"

Yes. "I don't know," was what he said. "I was pretty good at following orders. I didn't ask questions. Let me think." And he did, he really thought about it, because lying to end this quickly would only further ruin him. He pictured Eames, ridiculously young and thinking he was some kind of tough guy, finding out quickly that he wasn't so tough. Cracking under constant pain. No, of course Arthur would never set him up for that. Not now. But back then?

"I think," he said finally, "that if I knew they were torturing people, I wouldn't have even worked for them. I probably would have run. Cobb and Mal would have, too. They didn't know. Eames, we brought down SomniCore. Twice. The four of us the first time, you and me and Cobb swept up the dirty remnants last year. Yes it would have stopped me."

Eames ran his hands through his hair, over his eyes, over his face. He looked tireder than Arthur had ever seen him. He looked defeated.

"Nothing's changed," Arthur insisted. "Okay, we found out some truths, but we're still the same people we were this morning. Nothing had changed."

"Arthur," Eames said. His voice was flat, without the usual purring fondness that Arthur pretended to put up with. "Everything has changed."

"You're tired," Arthur said. "Listen. Get some rest, I'll stay up and take first watch. Just in case anyone decides to come in, try to hook us up or whatever. Tomorrow I'll just go to Ann, ask her what she wants and cut a deal. Get the train moving and then we'll get out of here and forget about this. Eames." He got up onto his knees and cupped the back of Eames's head, bringing their foreheads together. "Come on. Let this go, at least for now."

Eames rested against him, his eyes closed, but only for a second before pulling away. "Right," he said, all business. "You'll stand guard?"

"Of course I will, for fuck's sake." The suspicion, unspoken but clearly there, hurt worse than anything.

This time Eames didn't answer. He just settled back against the bed, exhausted, and folded his hands across his stomach. He stared at the top bed while Arthur stared at him, until he clearly grew uncomfortable and shifted his face the other way, to look at the wall.

Arthur sat back against the bottom bed. He found suddenly that he was starving; he hadn't eaten in too long and he didn't dare risk leaving Eames alone to beg for food from their captors. As quietly as he could, he dragged over his briefcase and clicked it open. He had a half-eaten bag of pretzels which he picked at until they were gone. He tried to chew them quietly.

"Eames," he said, turning around, "do you want some pretzels before I finish them?"

His answer was a soft grunt and a shake of the head.

He sighed and turned back. The only other edible thing in the compartment was the box of chocolates he had stolen for Eames on the first night. Despondently, he picked one up and unwrapped it. It was stupid, actually, that remembering how pleased Eames had been with stolen chocolates was what finally got to him. It wasn't like Eames had gone anywhere. He was right there, behind him on the bed for fuck's sake.

"Eames," he whispered, turning around slightly.

Eames was awake, he could tell, but this time he didn't answer. He simply lay there with his eyes closed, looking bruised and oddly frail. Arthur took his hand and pulled it to his shoulder, settling it there before turning back around. He waited for the firm grip of fingers, or even a reassuring slide over his neck, or anything. Eames just kept feigning sleep.

Arthur didn't feel hungry anymore. He sat back and waited it out, feeling more alone than he had when he'd been actually alone.

** ** ** **

Eames tried to rest with Arthur sitting guard, but sleep eluded him. Arthur was a good point, maybe even the best, and he'd always had his team's back, but something was off. No matter what he told himself, Eames didn't feel safe behind Arthur's watchful eyes.

He heard him sigh, and eventually heard him pull his briefcase across the floor. Eames wondered what he was going to try to do, what he was looking for. Something to repair his cell phone connection, or maybe he was reaching for something more sinister? Which was logically ridiculous, and he knew it. Arthur had no reason to act out of character. He realized that his fear was irrational, but that didn't get rid of the thrumming adrenaline, the pointless suspicion.

Instead of the clicking of gadgets, Eames heard the rustling of a plastic bag, and then a moment later, muffled crunching of whatever Arthur was eating. Pretzels, he remembered. Arthur always brought pretzels when he traveled.

Arthur asked him, almost ridiculously, if he wanted some pretzels. No he did not want any goddamn pretzels, he just wanted to feel like himself again. He wanted to be able to sleep. Or at least to think clearly.

Another few moments passed and then he heard a foil wrapper, and knew immediately that it was one of the chocolate truffles that Arthur had stolen for him. The knowledge sent a pang through his chest, almost of mourning.

"Eames?" Arthur's soft voice surprised him.

He didn't trust himself to answer, so he kept his eyes closed and his face turned away. Yet another surprise came when he felt Arthur's cold hand on his, pulling it to him. He didn't know what to expect. When Arthur put his hand against his shoulder and then settled back against the bed, it took a few seconds before it started to hurt.

It hurt to touch Arthur, the same way it had hurt to try touching Ann's mirror. After a few moments, his hand went entirely numb. Yet he still didn't remove it. Arthur wanted it there. A little numbness wasn't going to make him further break Arthur's heart. Because for all that he felt he had lost something vital, he still didn't have it in him to hurt Arthur. To hurt him worse, as it were.

Eventually, he was able to more or less ignore the feeling—or lack thereof—and keep his eyes closed.

The things that Jack had showed him played through his mind. The way he'd fucked around with Arthur, who'd been just some poor, messed up university kid.

The way that SomniCore had fucked around with him. He'd mostly put that behind him. It was years ago, ages ago, before he was even Eames. For so long, it had seemed like that had happened to someone else. Yet suddenly it was right there at the surface again, where he could see it so clearly.

He had certainly been afraid at different times in his life before his time at SomniCore. He'd gotten hurt, even badly hurt. He'd even cried over it, maybe once or twice, privately, when he'd been just a kid. But until he'd landed in their hands, he'd never, not once in his life, ever begged. They'd gotten that from him.

He thought he'd long since forgotten the faces of those people, too; the ones who had held him down and hurt him, truly damaged him for the first time ever. But he found, on reflection, that he hadn't buried those faces so deeply after all. He could, in fact, call them up into his conscious memory with ease. It wasn't that he wanted to, yet, there they were. Looming over him in the semi-dark.

As if it was happening currently, all at once. He wasn't Eames on a train somewhere in the middle of Siberia. If he let his mind wander (and wander it did seem to want to do,) he could so easily be that terrified boy again, at that very moment.

They came towards him and he couldn't move. They shined lights in his eyes, screamed at him, and threatened him with cold, sharp, metal things that they eventually used. Drugged him up, and broke a few of his fingers, but only after the drugs wore off.

The worst was being locked up. He was in that room, alone, with nothing but the ticking of the clock and the flashing of the lights, and there was no way out. They were going to kill him and there was no way out, if he ever saw daylight again it would be through the haze of insanity, they were going to break him, were breaking him, and the next time one of them came to drag him out of that room, he would be ready. He would have to be. Fighting back was his only option, while he was still able. He'd have to do it before they broke his legs.

The door opened and a sliver of too-bright light blinded him. All he saw of the man was a silhouette. He stood up, disoriented. Even though he was on his feet, his proprioception told him, somehow, that his body was still reclining. Well. That was the drugs.

"Eames," the man said to him, menacing, dominating him with just a shadow. It was wrong, that wasn't his name, his name most certainly was not Eames but what did it matter? It was time to end this. He had to save his own life.

"Come on," the voice said. "Wake up."

He threw himself at the shadow of the man (wrong, again, wrong, because he didn't even feel like he was upright,) and landed on top of him.

Of course, the shadow of a man fought back, struggled against him because the idea was to keep him there in that room forever, until he went out of his mind. So the man struggled and Eames struggled back harder. He fought, pinning his assailant with all his weight, and finally got his hands around the man's neck.

The choked cry and cold hands gripping at his wrists might have invoked pity, if he hadn't spent a week in the dark. If he wasn't fighting for his life. But no, this man had tormented him and was coming to finish the job. He had to die.

"Eames..." a strangled voice croaked. After it he heard the labored drag of breath that he wouldn't allow again.

A sudden and painful pressure right up against his balls startled him. It wasn't so sudden or so hard that it crippled him – it was just there, like a warning. Someone's hand gripping, threatening. Why did they stop, he wondered? He could have so easily been toppled by that.

"Pl-- Ea--" Choked, crushed half-sounds came from the man below him. The pressure eased up a little. He was almost there. In another minute he'd have a dead man crushed underneath him.

Please, Eames, was what those words were meant to be. He could almost hear them in his mind. Why would someone who had tortured him be asking 'Please'? And why would he be using a name that Eames wouldn't use for at least another year?

Cold, trembling fingers trailed delicately at his cheek, and slid down over his nose and lips. The touch was familiar. Maybe the most familiar touch he knew.

The world slipped into focus. Blood buzzed into his head and his limbs, making him heavy, weak, and hot. Everything tingled, from his lips to his toes, as if his entire body had pins and needles. He was aware that he was about to faint. He removed his hands from the person beneath him and braced them on the floor. A loud, raspy, pained intake of breath came from beneath him. Horror dawned in him; he didn't yet know why.

Another breath, and he finally made the effort to focus. Grey spots fled from his vision and he was afraid to look, but he did anyway.

Arthur, blotchy with returning color, his eyes still rolled up into his head, was dragging in breaths beneath him. His hand fell away from Eames's wrist and went to his own throat, which was a bright, angry red. In the whites of his eyes, Eames could discern tiny red flecks. Arthur struggled to turn over onto his side. Eames saw his own nail marks on the back of his neck.

He scrambled backwards away from Arthur, thinking only No, no, no. Possibly he was saying it aloud but he couldn't tell. Arthur lay on his side coughing and struggling to breathe.

Help him, call for help, get him water, anything, anything, he thought, but was unable to move. He felt paralyzed.

He was paralyzed. He couldn't move his legs, his arms, and he couldn't even move his eyes to look away from Arthur. Everything went heavy and dead.

This was followed by a sick, slithering sensation that seemed to crawl through his veins and bones, and into his muscles. It was so foreign, so alien inside him that he sucked his breath in sharply and tried to twist away from it. For a moment he saw Arthur get to his hands and knees and look over his shoulder at him. His eyes were watering, his mouth was an unnatural red. He looked afraid and Eames felt terrible pity for him. He wanted to go to him, damn his shaking, traitorous hands, and wind his fingers through Arthur's hair and tell him Please, if I ever hurt you again, I'm yours to dispose of, and most of all he wanted to say I'm sorry and but his mouth didn't work. Nothing worked.

He fell, or so it seemed, because next he was looking at the ceiling and it was moving, or the floor was moving or he was moving. He didn't know. He was nothing more than a hand-puppet being moved from the inside.

Dimly, he heard Arthur rasping for help.

** ** ** **

Eames's hand remained on his shoulder, a dead weight. After a few minutes, it started to feel uncomfortable and unwanted. But he thought maybe Eames was still awake, and to move away from him would have been wrong and confusing. He felt like their finely-honed signals, the same ones that had kept them functioning as a team for all these years, were misfiring.

He stared at the door. Shadows lurked across the gap under the door, footsteps tapped outside. It was clear that they were being guarded in here, probably even listened to and possibly watched. He wanted to throw the door open and punch whoever it was in the face. It would probably get him shot. Logically he knew that, but it didn't dull the burning desire he felt to destroy someone.

After a few tense moments, Eames stirred behind him, properly asleep now. Arthur felt the shift in consciousness. It was a relief, with him asleep, because at least the pretending was over.

The silence didn't last long. Eames started muttering something in his sleep, some kind of distress plea. Arthur didn't need a hell of a lot of imagination to figure out what it was. 'Stop, please,' and 'no' made it pretty clear. It burned through Arthur's chest, the knowledge that Eames was reliving something that he himself had orchestrated. What had they done to him? Arthur had fallen under the hands of SomniCore at least twice. He had a pretty good grasp on their methods.

"Eames," he said, turning around on his knees to face the bed. He wasn't sure if he should touch him or not. Before this mess, he would have known exactly what to do. But he knelt there, watching Eames struggle with something that wasn't there. Or that was there, in his reality. "Come on," he said, "wake up."

Eames turned over. His eyes were open and empty of recognition. There was fear, though, primal and dangerous. Arthur had about two seconds in which he tried to stand up, but it wasn't enough. Eames tackled him to the floor of the compartment and wrapped his hands around his throat.

Stunned, at first Arthur just lay there, struggling to breathe but not doing much else because this couldn't be, it couldn't be, Eames would wake up in a second. He was staring right at him, looking right into his eyes.

When Arthur finally registered the actual, murderous intent, and that it was directed at him, disbelief gave way to fear and action. He grabbed Eames's wrist in one hand, but that was futile. In a fair fight they were about even. With leverage, he could break the hold and even break Eames's wrist. But Eames was pinning him hard, one knee on his hip, digging in painfully, and the other tight beside his ribs.

Panicking, Arthur flailed, tried to speak, tried to breathe as the compartment, the ceiling, and Eames's face started to dull around the edges of his vision.

Please, Eames, he tried. The pressure was unbearable; he was under the ocean, under the earth. Desperate, he tried his dirtiest trick and grabbed at his balls; he could crush him this way, cripple him for at least a few minutes. It was a warning: Let me go. But his hands were already numb and weak. He felt himself arching, fighting like a land-bound fish. Fuck, fuck, he was going to die, Eames was going to kill him.

He could hardly see anymore, but he reached with his free hand and touched the side of Eames's face. His mind went back, years back, to when they had first met. 'May I touch you?' Eames had asked him, on waking from a bad compound. Later, Arthur had asked him the same thing.

He didn't know what he was doing. He ran his fingers down the familiar slope of Eames's nose, his mouth, a face he knew better than anyone's, maybe even his own. His hand fell away.

And then Eames let up. Not slowly, but all at once, the pressure was gone.

Arthur couldn't see, but he dragged in a painful, glorious, aching breath. It burned like acid, ached all the way down to his chest, but the oxygen was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. His eyes were streaming and he was shaking all over as he tried to get out from under Eames.

Eames started away from him like a frightened animal. He scurried backwards into the corner. "No, no, no, no," he repeated, sick with fear.

Arthur got to his knees and looked over his shoulder. Eames may have looked worse than Arthur felt. His hands were clenching and unclenching without his conscious control, and he kept pushing himself backwards as if he could disappear through the wall.

Then he tipped over onto his side and arched, and Arthur thought, Seizure, immediately, and knew he was in no condition to help.

But if it was a seizure, it wasn't like any one he'd ever seen – and he had seen his fair share, in the business. This was just a helpless twisting, writhing, as if pain wracked his entire body. He didn't thrash or shake; he looked more like a man possessed.

Arthur was terrified. He'd never seen anything like this. Still coughing, choking on air and spit, he crawled over to Eames and he didn't know what the fuck to do, he knew what to do with seizures but this wasn't, this was something else he had never seen, and Eames's eyes were rolled back and he was saying please in a watery keen.

Arthur tried to yell 'HELP' but his throat was ruined probably for a few days. It hurt like fuck but he tried again, 'help, help,' as he banged on the door.

Because fucking malevolent those people out there might be, but Dinclusin wanted Eames alive. That much he knew.

Arthur, still on his knees and watching Eames toss his head from side to side and grasp at nothing, banged his palm against the door. "Help!" he called. "Help, Jack!"

** ** ** **

Whew, that was pretty rough. I don't know what's going on here.

Okay, so now that I have an idea of how to get Arthur off the train and a way to use some of those suggestions up there, my main question to you guys is, what would you like to see happen between them? Most of you voted for "FIX THEM" so I will go by popular vote. I've gotten one really solid suggestion as to how that can begin.

Anything else you've got in mind?

Oh, here's another interesting question for you. Which two body parts would you like to see come in contact? LOL if you try to make it filthy, I will probably try to find a way to make it funny instead. If you give me something random, I might try to make it dirty. Heh. I have no idea. With something like this, I've got to take only one, maybe two suggestions or it will become ridiculous. :D So, Arthur's --- to Eames's ---? Or vise versa? Throw me some body parts, people. ^_^

Okay, that was a weird question.

Sorry this update was so brief and angsty. I actually felt very sad when I was writing about the chocolates. But then I have issues.

What do you guys think? Should I throw Arthur out into the blizzard and get Eames locked up and tortured or what?

Again I want to thank you all, so much! ^_^

10 - The Virtuous Among Us
Page 1 of 2 << [1] [2] >>

Date: 2011-03-24 09:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh my God, holy fuck. Bloody fucking hell. (And you've turned my profanity levels up again.) I find it interesting that Arthur's the one looking at it more rationally, though his amnesia probably helps considerably with that.

Eames nearly killing Arthur is so not going to help them fix this, though it was a twist I didn't see coming. I'm wondering, though, even if everything they've been told is true - and I'm not entirely sure of that, I do not trust Dinclusin or Ann - just what our new 'friends' have to do with what's been happening to Eames and Arthur, and this latest symptom on Eames' part. Why on Earth would Dinclusin, if he cares about Eames, want to do this? Or is it Ann, who doesn't seem to like him much? And is Dinclusin the one fucking with Arthur, for a similar reason?

Again, I vote to FIX THEM!!! *urgent flailing*

Date: 2011-03-25 03:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Hey! :D Hmm, good point. Actually, now that you mention it, I wonder if Ann's and Jack's (etc.) memories are just as screwed up. They obviously can't remember everything, right? And they've probably colored it with their own experiences. Good point! I wonder if there's a way I could work with that. Like, Arthur could figure that out and be like, "Yo, it wasn't as bad as you remember it" to Eames or something. Well, in so many words. ;D

Or is it Ann, who doesn't seem to like him much? And is Dinclusin the one fucking with Arthur, for a similar reason?

*Applause* And I'll tell you something else. Early on when I started writing this, someone suggested something else that I haven't written down but have kept in the back of my mind the whole time. :D I'll just leave it at that. ^_^

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Date: 2011-03-24 09:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Okay, I am obviously a little fragile today, because you had me to honest-to-god tears with this chapter. Oh, boys, and Eames being so broken, and Arthur dutifully trying to make contact. Eep. I am terrified of what's going to happen next to them! D:

I have my tablet hooked up finally! I had an image prompt I wanted to make for the past few chapters, but I didn't have any tools, and I was so worried that its time would pass! But it's just getting closer and closer to where it might fit in! I hope I can get it done for you. <3

Date: 2011-03-25 03:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I feel the same way lately. Everything's getting to me. I was honestly feeling kind of weepy when I was writing it so don't feel too bad. It's clearly one of those times! :D

IMAGE PROMPT YES. Just, me, on the floor rolling around in catnip! I mean, that's how I feel about an image prompt. In case that wasn't clear. ^_^


Date: 2011-03-24 09:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
> Whew, that was pretty rough. I don't know what's going on here.

That's an understatement! Sweet cheese on a cracker, this is INTENSE. I liked how the POV switched - it's important that we see what is going on for both Eames and Arthur.

Is this all a dream, then? Not an actual vacation? Oooohhh spooky! And then they come out of it, grateful for each other but still mistrustful. Eames' symptoms are very interesting - that he believes he feels pain when touching Arthur. As for body parts? Ummm... Eames' nose to Arthur's ribcage.

Date: 2011-03-25 03:46 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
MMMmmm cheese on a cracker! Now I'm hungry. :D

I'm really gald the POV changes worked. I try to make them coherent and clearly delineated, so that's really great to hear. :)

I'm not thinking it's a dream though - I mean, I guess it could be, in that anything could be. ^_^

Eames' nose to Arthur's ribcage.

I don't even know why that's hot, but it is. THANK YOU! :D

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Date: 2011-03-24 09:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Omfg i lovedc every second of this update. I couldnt wait until i got home so i read and am replying whilst walking on a treadmill LOL. You already know my suggestion from last chapter lol. As for body parts... i would say Arthur's face to Eames's ass. In a completely non-sexual way. OR Arthur's elbow to Eames's crotch. Not on purpose of course =) CAN'T WAIT FOR MORE <3

Date: 2011-03-25 01:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Apologies for typos... I was really worked up over the chapter and walking much faster than I normally do on the treadmill lol. It's not easy to speed-walk and type! I'm surprised I didn't fall off =P

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Date: 2011-03-24 09:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I'm suggesting this before I even read the story because OMG Eames' hand on Arthur's throat. I don't care if it's gentle or dangerous. I just love his neck.

Date: 2011-03-24 10:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
And this is what I get for not reading first because OMG EAMES CHOKING ARTHUR!!!!

"But if it was a seizure, it wasn't like any one he'd ever seen – and he had seen his fair share, in the business. This was just a helpless twisting, writhing, as if pain wracked his entire body. He didn't thrash or shake; he looked more like a man possessed. "


And Arthur asking Jack for help?! That must sting. Jesus.

I love it Tabi! I love it so hard!

Ok, different body parts then? I love the idea of someone (preferably Eames as always) playing with Arthur's ankle. The fine bones, and it being delicate in of itself but attached to strong calves being super sexy and all.

And the hair Tabi, the hair. Play with it!!!

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Date: 2011-03-24 10:07 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I don't have anything constructive to say, but I haven't commented in a while & I just wanted to say how much I am loooving this.

Broken boyyysss =(

as for the body part question.. I sort of have a thing for the backs of knees? Maybe a hand and the back of a knee or lips! >>

Date: 2011-03-25 03:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh man, I just have a thing for men's legs, I don't even know. :)

Oh, did the parts with the chocolates get to you too? It got to me as I was writing it. I have this weird hang up about food + comfort and sadness and, I don't know. Sometimes people being sad about food really gets to me. WTF. I can't' explain. O_O

So glad you like this! Thank you! ^_^

Date: 2011-03-24 10:40 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
As much as I want these boys to get fixed I want to see Eames completely throw Arthur to the dogs.

As far as the touching? Eames' hand on Arthur's upper arm with violent intent is better.

Date: 2011-03-25 04:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
OUCH! ^_^;; That would be really painful but yet, very interesting. I will have to see if I can fit that in. So far everyone seems to be voting for him to have to go rescue Arthur, so I may have to go with popular vote. :)

yet violent intent in fic always turns my crank. ^_^;;

Date: 2011-03-24 11:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
DUDE you are on a roll. SO GOOD. I LOVE YOU. I've been having a very bad day (nearly broke my finger and my dog ate my favorite peacock) but I got to come home to this and while it is angsty and depressing as SHIT it is still the best thing ever so ♥ for that.

Arthur's elbow to Eames's crotch? Lol. Arthur's hand grabbing the back of Eames's leg. No, Eames's hand grabbing the back of Arthur's leg. IDK. ARTHUR GRABBING THE PERSON WIELDING THE THING THAT IS SMASHING EAMES'S FACE.

Also yes to throwing Arthur out to the blizzard and having Eames get locked up and tortured.

Date: 2011-03-25 04:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

I'm sorry you're having a bad day; wait, what? Your dog ate your what? I would not be shocked if you had an actual peacock. I used to work at a wildlife place, we had a peacock too. Oh man, I am so sorry about that.

You're the second "elbow to crotch" person, lmao! I wonder why! I think I could work in some leg grabbing; in fact I may even have to.

Oh, poor Arthur. Poor Eames! It seems like such a tragedy. ^_^

Date: 2011-03-25 12:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

I can't stop getting misty eyed and weepy!

This fic is going to be the death of me but in a good way!

I love angst, tension and buildup so this is great! I love that things aren't too easy for them so when they do work things out (please say they do eventually) it'll be that much sweeter!

"I can't, because you're not mine. You never have been and you can't be, after what I did to you."
*lip trembles* But...Eames! He's your Arthur! But I like the twist that he can't touch Arthur anymore without it hurting.

"Everything has changed." No!

It was stupid, actually, that remembering how pleased Eames had been with stolen chocolates was what finally got to him. It wasn't like Eames had gone anywhere. He was right there, behind him on the bed for fuck's sake.
That part got me too! :( Like Eames was right behind him but really a million miles away.

I LOVED the references to A Soul Awake! Loved that.

Oh goodness-suggestions for future parts? I do like the idea that Arthur is forced off the train and Eames has to fend for himself.

I have a feeling the boys need to go under again. Someone else suggested it but I love the idea that they remind each other of the deals they made and the ideas they incepted each other with.

I'd like for Arthur to bring up some of the things that him and Eames have gone through in the past like they're good times/memories to help Eames get through all this since he's the one having problems letting it go.

As for the two body parts? I'd like to see thigh and face.

Date: 2011-03-25 12:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
OMG Arthur trying to have Eames hand on his shoulder. I was all:

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Date: 2011-03-25 12:12 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh fuck.
I'm sorry but really I can't say anything else right now. This is so intense! And, being me, I ended in tears. It's so..
Ok, a deep breath.
First of all I did expect something angsty, but I would never expect something like that. Not Eames trying to kill Arthur, not the pain coming with touching Arthur. And definitely not Arthur yelling for help to Jack.
So no, it's not rough, it's fucking amazing.
Yes, you need to fix them, it's too heart-breaking to read about them like that. What I really want to see, tough, it's more interaction between Arthur and Ann. We already know he was important to her. On the other hand she seemed pretty calm while drugging him, so a little closer look on this matter would be great.
Two parts of body. Yeah, it is a weird question, but I'm gonna answer it anyway;) Arthur's knee and Eames's shoulder. I know that technically it's not really comfortable, but I can totally see it.
Throwing Arthur out into the blizzard... Hmm. Arthur hates cold... Yes, definitely throw him out (oh, how I love being a heartless bitch. Khem, nevermind.)On the other hand I'm not sure about Eames being tortured. I mean, I can't see a reasonable resason (it sounds bad, but whatever) for that. No, no I need something else. Maybe something connected with other people in the train? I mean, right now Jack and the rest can think that their aim is gained. But if Arthur and Eames would be fixed, then it means they simultaneously can do everything in their power against their enemies. Which, going further, means that Jack and the rest need to have a new argument, a trump card. I'm not sure if I'm making sense right now.
Anyway, amazing job. And I'm sure the next chapter will also be amazing.

Date: 2011-03-25 04:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I LOVE YOUR COMMENTS. They always make me think. I'm always so grateful for juicy comments like this. :)

Thank you so very much. I'm really pleased that you're enjoying this.

I actually have something in mind for Ann that might surprise a few people, even the one person who suggested it early on. I don't want to say anything else about that, though. :) I'm kind of interested in how she feels about Arthur, too. He's a memory to her, but maybe her emotions colored how she remembered it. Hmm.

I'm glad you mentioned something else having to do with others on the train. I've got an idea for that which I hope will slot nicely into this plot and I hope you'll like it. :) I'll start working on it tomorrow.

As always, thank you so much for your amazing comment! It really inspires me. ^_^

Date: 2011-03-25 12:55 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I'm loving this! Though you're breaking my heart, but I'm okay with that :D... as long as you put it back together pretty please. I've loved all your fics, but I'm particularly liking how you're doing this one, taking ideas from everyone, that's so cool. I can't wait to find out what happens next!
can I jump in on the body part suggestions Aurthur's hair Eames' nose?
If it's not too late to vote I'd also like to vote to fix them, but feel free to run them through the wringer before that lol.
and if you don't mind suggestion from a first time commenter. I agree with those who feel we need a BAMF Arthur who might not be able to help himself for once and need some saving
anyway can't wait to see whats next!!!!

Date: 2011-03-25 04:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Hi hi! Of course I don't mind any suggestions, new people or ones I know. It's all good! Also, I LOVE your suggestion, unnnngggg. Well, all of your suggestions really, they all sound like something I would like to write into this. :)

And another vote for it all to work out in the end, too. Cool! But yes, of course it has to still be a little owie for a while, hehe. :D

Thank you so much, I'm glad you commented! ^_^

Date: 2011-03-25 01:37 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
In the last couple days, I've had some time, so naturally I spent it all (re)reading all your stories.

So, first I just want to say that, as much as I loved your stories before, I am infinitely more impressed with them after reading them all together, one right after another.

I love the way you tie your stories together with phrases and actions, and familiar jokes. (I love that you did the face-feel thing in this chapter; it is a beautiful moment).

You have developed Eames and Arthur so well. I am just in awe at your skill, because, while they are definitely the same people they were in your very first story, here we are years later and they act like it's years later. You've aged them so realistically, it's unbelievable. They are still the same people, but you've shown that they've grown and developed gradually through the timeline. There's no sudden alteration or random change; everything is accounted for, and that is just amazing. You know these characters so very, very well.

My one and only request for this story is that after this is all over, and they come through the other side of whatever you've got planned for them, I would love to see an epilogue or something where they finally get to go on vacation, and no one tries to kill them or torture them or torture-then-kill-them. Just...vacation.

Anyway, this chapter was utterly heartbreaking, and I loved every moment.

Thank you for this wonderful update, and this series.

Date: 2011-03-25 04:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Whoa, thank you so much! It's really cool to hear that someone is reading the older stories too. I had so much fun with them. :) I feel nostalgic even though they were only a few months ago. And I'm so pleased that you got the "touch" moment, too. Umm I may or may not have a weird thing for Tom Hardy's nose. ^_^;;

It's so cool that you feel they've aged in the span of the fics. That really means a lot to me. It's strange because they were written over such a short period of time but the fics span so many years. That you can "feel" the time passing truly makes me happy. :D

I was thinking about them getting an actual break, too. I think that would be nice. I will fill that request.

Thank you so much for this comment! ^_^

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Date: 2011-03-25 02:03 am (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)

i want dinclusin to get punched in the throat >:O

Date: 2011-03-25 04:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Haha, you know, I do too. That would be quite satisfying! ^_^

Date: 2011-03-25 02:13 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I don't think Eames needs to be tortured again, especially as he's now reliving the first bit of torture at the moment. And kinda torturing himself over Arthur at the same time while the mistrust settles in. I guess it'd be ok to lock him up and leave him to relive it over and over and over again though. Arthur needs to go out into the snow, definitely.

Body parts, body parts ... The sole of Arthur's foot on Eames' TRICEP! No shoes or shirt.

Date: 2011-03-25 04:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Hmm, conflicting suggestions on this, about half saying "BREAK HIM" and the other half like "Aww he's had enough, leave him alone." :D I will try to find a happy medium. Remember, everyone wants him to get crazy angry and fight his way through the train, so. He needs a reason. ^_^ I just need to give him one.

And everyone's like "GTFO, ARTHUR, AND FREEZE!" I love it! ^_^

Interesting body parts! *copy paste*

So glad to read your comments as always. Thank you! :D

Date: 2011-03-25 02:32 am (UTC)
epithalamium: (Default)
From: [personal profile] epithalamium
'May I touch you?' Eames had asked him, on waking from a bad compound

That broke my heart, coming in the middle of such a violent action. Arthur trying so desperately to reach out to Eames (and the pretzels!), and noooo! I still think they are together. They are!!

Date: 2011-03-25 04:26 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I'm so glad you liked that part! I felt a little choked up. Umm, pun more or less intended. ;D Hehe.

Votes are mostly for them to be okay. :) I'm kind of glad. But, a little more pain first, I think. Right? ^_^;;


Date: 2011-03-25 03:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
holy fucking christ

Date: 2011-03-25 03:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Okay, I think I can use proper sentences again. You should know that I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you had posted another chapter. And then my heart was pounding the entire time. Tiiiits. This chapter was intense. I absolutely loved how Arthur's familiar face touching snapped Eames out of it. I'd kind of like to see more things along the line of that. Clearly, they're both broken and being pried apart, but they're trying desperately to cling to each other by repeating small actions like that to remind themselves of who they really are to each other. Wait, does that make sense? I don't know, I'm still a little incoherent.

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Date: 2011-03-25 03:25 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
WHHAAAAAAAHHH! *SOBS* Oh my god! This is killing me! I mean that in the best way possible! And you say your just making this up as you go along?? Amazing! I cannot get enough of this story, its that fucking good! Oh Eames! Oh Arthur! How do you know exactly what makes my heart go crazy?! I love this kind of confused, romantic angst and you do it so goddamn well. I will seriously be checking daily (numerous times!!) until the next chapter is posted! Thank you so much for writing this, you wonderful thing! :)

Date: 2011-03-25 04:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I'm sorry for killing you! But I'm glad it's in a good way. :D We are obviously of a similar mind because I more or less write to indulge myself, and I'm always so thrilled when people agree with that indulgence. ^_^

All my fics, aside from one-shots, have been WIPs and I have never known how they were going to end up. It's kind of exciting that way, not to plan anything. I sort of like the challenge, and adding in to that taking suggestions, it makes it so much fun. This way, I end up writing things that I never would have thought of. That whole Lake Baikal part, the Romanovs, everything. I learned a lot from this. :D

I am so pleased that you're enjoying it! Feel free to make some suggestions as well and I'll try my best to include some.

Thank you so much! ^_^

Date: 2011-03-25 04:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

Anyway, I'm going to go along with a poster above me and vote that Arthur and Eames go back under (are sent back under by our Ambiguous Sister/Brother Duo?) and end up resolving their issues with one another through the Inceptions they performed on each other (and all the other good times they've had together, whatever, I just need some catharsis at this point).

THEN THEY PROCEED TO KICK EVERYONE IN THE FACE WITH THEIR FISTS. And...Michelle and her Mom and Dad can do some things too. I really like the involvement we've seen from the other passengers thus far, especially considering how little Eames thought of them all in the beginning of the story.

Also, the body parts involved should be ~ears~ and ~toes~. So cute!

Also also, for some reason I'd really like to see more interaction between Arthur and Ann. She's such a ~mysterious lady~ with all her talk of ~punishment~ this and ~suffering~ that.

...Okay, you got me, I just like punishment and suffering. But with a happy ending for all!

Date: 2011-03-25 04:37 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

Okay, I really like the idea of them going back under again. I think it might be cool if towards the end they did that, like, holding hands or something cheesy like that. ^_^;; It's a little schmoopy but maybe they will have earned it.

I'm really glad you like the involvement of the others, because I'm pretty sure I have an idea about how the next chapter is going to go, and if I'm going to get Arthur off the train, I will need some other passengers. :) Cool.

ALSO very glad you'd like to see more of Ann. I think it's necessary for her to do another certain thing or two. It's something that got mentioned early on but I'm not going to say what. :D

OMG, who doesn't love Arthur's ears, they are too cute. ^_^

Thank you so much for this comment, and the suggestions! :)

Date: 2011-03-25 06:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

Yes Fix them fix them fix them! I'm quite worried as to where this is going, which is testament to your kickass writing!

What Jack and Ann told them doesn't necessarily have to be true, does it?! Maybe they Incepted them to believe it. Or maybe Dinclusin and Ann themselves are being used and tricked by an even greater evil on the train itself (Zombie Rasputin! :)

Body parts- Eames' knee and Dinclusin's balls :)

Date: 2011-03-29 03:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
LOL I'm a little worried, too! I'm putting the next part up, but it doesn't actually resolve anything yet. I'm still not sure how it's going to play out, getting them even physically together again. But I don't want to give too much away. ;D

Oh, thanks so much! ^_^

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Date: 2011-03-25 04:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

I'm still not really sure how this is going to be repaired, I really don't.

Date: 2011-03-29 03:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
"OH THE HUMANITY OF IT ALL!" / Ren and Stimpy. :D Sorry, I jsut dated myself, lol!

I'm not sure either, but I am posting the next chapter tonight. Err. Tomorrow morning if you go by midnight. ^_^

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Date: 2011-03-25 04:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
this hurts sooo good & bad! pls fix them for they are meant to be!

Date: 2011-03-29 03:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I'm going to try! Got a few good suggestions. ^_^ Next chapter will be soon, in a few minutes really. But nothing's resolved yet! ^_^;;

Date: 2011-03-25 05:03 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
narghhhhhhhh so intense! T_______________________________T and i still vote for FIX THEM! somehow. =/ please?

and Eames being.... idk.... he seems to have been intercepted to me (with his reactions towards Arthur). I hope he gets well soon T_T

as for body part to come into contact... um... hands?

Date: 2011-03-29 03:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I will try to fix them but I think it's going to be a process. A lot of sadness. But I did get some good ideas from people, so. Next chapter is going up tonight. :) But nothing is resolved yet, I should warn you! ^_^

Date: 2011-03-26 03:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Finally got around to reading this (as well as the previous segment) and just want to say that I am joining the FIX THEM chorus) and this is some ANGSTY SHIT YOU GOT GOING ON, HEAVY, AND OMG DID YOU JUST MAKE BRICK CANON?!?!??!? Here I am, on the edge of my seat, and hanging on your every word.

Date: 2011-03-29 03:45 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
BRIIIIICK. Umm. I'm still kinda playing around with that, yeah. ^_^ But for anyone who doesn't want to think that, then it could be anyone. :) So I try to leave it a bit open.

Next part is going up soon! Nothing resolved yet, just some sleazy people doing sleazy things to them. ^_^

Date: 2011-03-26 07:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]

Basically whenever you have a suspenseful train story, you need to have people climbing along to top of the moving train. It's just kind of a rule. <3

Date: 2011-03-29 03:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
WOOOOOOT! OMG, I'm so glad you prompted this! You know, I really love the eerie, cold colors. I especially love that one guy up there who's either flipping the bird or holding a dildo, that's gotta be Eames. Hehe.

Oh man, let me tell you. You just gave me such an idea, one that I absolutely love. Now, there's a fire under my ass to write this part.

*eternal snugs* THANK YOU.

Date: 2011-03-26 05:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
D: This chapter made me so sad. Although I was insanely pleased that Arthur was looking at it rationally. I just thought "Awww... They really love each other..." And then Eames! Poor darling. I did not see the strangling coming. And then my heart clenched when Arthur started pleading for Jack. D: What happens next?

Arthur and Eames's knees should come in contact. And I really don't want Arthur getting chucked off the train into Siberia, but I suppose it would be totally badass for him to survive that and come back.

Date: 2011-03-29 03:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
It made me sad, too, tbh.

And Arthur having to go out into the cold... let's just say it's freaking cold here and it feels like the worst thing that could happen to a person! ;D So of course it has to happen. I'm putting the next chapter up in a few minutes. ^_^

Thanks, as always!
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