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Do you know the feeling of sensing an upcoming danger? When nothing is out of order, but you feel something looming over like a dark, threatening shadow? Making you stand on edge, waiting for the invisible sign, taut as a drawn bowstring? Well, that’s what Eames is feeling right now, even in his disturbed sleep. He is on a solo mission with Arthur, the two of them sharing a dream in the backseat of a car.Arthur is all deadly grace, like always, efficient without breaking a sweat, concentrating on the mission only, dark eyes glistening with determination. But Eames is like a startled beast, he knows there is danger nearby just cannot see where, making his muscles strain, gaze racing wild. He is surprised to see that even with only half of his mind on the task at hand, he can still manage quite well.And there it is!Eames knows danger reached them, it’s right there up, where their bodies rest, and he has to break free now, from the sweet restrains of dreams, if he wants them to survive. He casts one last glance at his partner; Arthur is so deep inside this dream, sparing no thoughts on other than this mission, an impossible task to shake him out of it. Based on his movements, he wouldn’t even notice that Eames will go missing from his side.There is no music or kick to help him waking up. Nothing else but the fact that he is dreaming, and reality is in danger, or in other words, Arthur is in danger, naked in front of the threat.The dread of losing this man is enough by itself to set him free.Eames shudders awake with a gasp, the sensation of movement reaching his brain at first. They are moving. The fucking car is moving, racing down the hill towards the rails, to plummet into the river below.He has only seconds to analyse and act.His first instinct is not to flee but to protect. Arthur is still sleeping, slack in the chains of the belts, head fallen back- unmoving and unaware, vulnerable. In the split of a second Eames frees him from the seatbelt and pulls the man to rest against his body, into a protective hug.Time seems to slow down and his mind is racing, faster than this fucking metal casket, how to get themselves out of this alive.Someone wants them dead, therefore they decided that drowning after a „car-accident” would be a fitting death for them, a peaceful way to go during sleep. Yuck. The ledge is maximum 20 meters above the water, which means survival is possible, it will just hurt like a bitch. Because he won’t stay inside the car, they have a better chance if they get out of it before it hits the water. Getting out of a submerged car with an unconscious man is waaay harder than falling into the water with one.So Eames gets himself ready, and at the exact moment the car tears way from the rails, at the exact moment they start to fall, he flings the door open and jumps out of the loose vehicle, pulling his partner with himself.Just as they start to plummet, Eames makes sure they are positioned the way that his back is downwards, the first thing to hit water. With one strong arm he holds Arthur close, his other big hand covers the man’s nose and mouth.The fall is shorter than he expected. They hit water with a sickening splash.It hurts like hell.His vision goes white from pain, and it’s just his stubborn, steely resolve which stops him from gasping for air. They sink in a steady pace, while Eames fights off the instinct to inhale, blind and deaf in the silky, heavy embrace of icy water.- Go to sleep, Mr. Eames.- Arthur commands in a soft, lovely voice, and his eyes are fluttering shut, willing to join his partner in the never ending land of dreams.The dreams. They are so calm, so lovely. They feel so real.They betray you.Fall asleep and you are gone. Both of you.Eames breaks the surface, pulling the other man up.He is cold, he is freezing, teeth chattering as he sputters and gasps, sweet, cool air into his burning lungs, and aching all over, which means he won this round. He is still alive.
Arthur is safe in his arms, still deep in slumber, his head rolls on Eames’s shoulder as the man starts treading water. Eames sobs out a sigh in relief, and leans back as much as he can, pulling his partner to lie more atop of him, less in the water. For a moment Eames is just floating, whispering prayers, gathering his strength, and Arthur is breathing, thank God, he feels his chest moving under his palm.Time is against them, as always, the next task is to get out of water before the cold sinks under their skin, stealing all of their warmth. Eames won’t be able to remember how he managed to reach the shores, one moment they were still amongst the waves, the other, heading for the house.He is freezing, clothes stuck to his skin, heavy and ice-cold, making every movement almost too difficult to execute. His body feels numb in the pain and cold, but Eames just shivers and carries on. Step by step. For any other, nonsense, for him, a crucial task.They need to get rid of these soaked clothes and warmth, warmth, warmth...Though his knees are shaking, his mind is focused on the task.For others, it is just a 100-meter-walk. For him, a victory march. A battle won over death.Arthur, the lucky bastard, is still asleep, his long, lithe body a dead weight in his iron-like grip. His breathing even, the water shines on his cold skin like diamond. By the time Eames reaches the house, Arthur is shivering.Finding the door locked, with his patience worn thin, Eames balances the treasured weight in his arms, and kicks the door open.It’s some kind of a storage. Eames wobbles to the opposite wall and slumps down, as exhaustion finally takes over. His lungs are on fire, and every movement that makes the muscles of his wide back strain sends flames of agony down his spine. Shame or not, he is this close to cry.Arthur is tossing in his restless slumber, breathing faster than before, and he is trembling from head to toe. Eames snaps out of stupor, they are far from safe yet. He pries their clothes off, tossing the wet things aside, and drapes their shivering forms in the only blanket he manages to find.Skin-to-skin contact seems to help, the tremors of the slender body subside, and Arthur sinks back into the realm of dreams, to finish this goddamn job. Eames presses his aching back to the hard wall and cradles his partner closer to himself, in a safe, warm embrace of love.They need help.Cobb.Cobb is the first one to come into his mind, and Eames can almost see the man, in a neat and elegant business suit, in front of a skyscraper, a black briefcase in hand. Help us- he whispers, through space and thoughts, and Cobb stops and snaps his head up to look at them, directly into his eyes.The vision dissolves and Eames cannot concentrate on anything else than staying awake and the steady rhythm of his partner’s breathing. Arthur’s skin is still cool, but far from that scary coldness, so Eames just has to make sure he doesn’t get hurt till he comes back.He doesn’t know how many minutes- or hours?- pass till he hears the footsteps. Pulling Arthur closer, he prepares to fight.The man steps out of the shadows, and it’s Cobb, wide-eyed and panting in the light of the setting sun. Eames feels all of his strength melting away. His snarl transforms into a sigh, and darkness follows.