The Price We Pay

Summary: They knew from the start that their relationship would be complicated. It came with the territory, but they're willing to stick it out, no matter what.

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Note: I don't own Inception.

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Their eyes met for just a moment as they stood by the exit to the airport. They lingered, both seemingly unsure of what to do now that the job was over. Eames sighed, his grip tightening on the handle of his luggage, feeling like a child for just standing there and doing nothing.

"Do you have a place to stay?" Arthur asked, so suddenly that the forger almost forgot to answer.

"Not at the moment," Eames replied, hating the way the words fell clumsily out of his mouth.

"Would you like one?" the point man asked, glancing sideways at the other man, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips.

"Are you coming on to me?"

"No."

"Is that a lie?"

"Would you like to find out?"

…~~~~…~~~~…

"You do realize this relationship is doomed to failure," Eames said, his eyes fixed on his cup of coffee. He watched as the steam rose from the hot liquid, wondering if he had been right to bring up the subject currently at hand. "You know as well as I do that our professions have a tendency of getting in the way."

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?" Arthur's question was calm and fluid, his tone giving nothing away as he sipped his own coffee, hands closed tightly around the warm mug, "Because it's not going to work."

"And why is that?" the forger couldn't help but feel his spirits lift when he caught the corner of Arthur's lips quirk up in a half smile.

The point man set his mug down on the table, one hand reaching over and taking Eames', "Because you're a risk I'm willing to take."

The forger found Arthur's gaze then. He felt undeniable warmth spreading through his body as he looked into those eyes, so filled with certainty. If he hadn't been in love in that moment, he knew he would have fallen head over heels just from those words and that single look.

…~~~~…~~~~…

Arthur's hands were on his tie, carefully tightening it and pulling it straight. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and studied himself, all the while wondering why he put so much effort into his morning ritual when he was just going to loosen the tie later in the day anyway. Then Eames was standing behind him, hands smoothing over his tie, carefully exploring the span of his clothed chest.

The point man smiled, "Can't keep your hands off me, can you?"

"Not when you look so put together and gorgeous," the forger replied, smiling into the nape of the other man's neck.

"I'm going to be late."

"Just five more minutes, love."

Arthur placed his hands over Eames', following where they went, his body shivering at the touch of the forger's hands. He bit his lip before turning in Eames' arms, his eyes meeting that face he had gotten so familiar with. He was certain he knew every line and curve on that face.

"Five is all you'll get," Arthur said, his lips pressing against the forger's.

Eames leaned into the kiss, his hands drawing the other man closer, pressing their bodies together. The movements of their lips were slow and meaningful. They both knew they weren't just kissing for the sake of kissing. They were giving declarations of love with every action because Arthur was heading out on a job. They wanted to make themselves known if the worst was to happen.

Then they were pulling apart, smiling, noses touching. Arthur's fingers traced the forger's collarbone, almost as if carefully inspecting it. Eames had no words, unable to even voice what he felt at the moment.

"I have to go," the point man breathed, closing his eyes as he nuzzled Eames' neck.

"I know," the forger said, his hands still on the other man's back, "Come back in one piece."

Arthur gave a quiet laugh, "I'll see what I can do."

…~~~~…~~~~…

"Fuck!" Eames swore through gritted teeth as he crouched behind an upturned metal desk. His shoulder was a bleeding mess, staining the jacket Arthur had gotten him the previous Christmas. The pain was excruciating, but he knew he would survive it if he could only make it out of the room alive. He knew his teammates were in the building. If he could just make it to them, he knew he had a better chance of survival.

The job had gone south so fast he hadn't had time to react. The extractor he had been working with was obviously an amateur, not yet ready for the realities of dream sharing. As bullets were fired off all around him, he regretted not taking Arthur along. The point man had offered, but he had turned him down, thinking it would complicate things. Eames hated to admit he was wrong, but he knew if Arthur had been there, the job would have gone off without a hitch. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that they wouldn't have gotten caught in the act.

Suddenly, the forger heard five very distinct and calculated shots. He tilted his head against the desk, wondering if one of his teammates had gone back for him. Cautiously, he snuck a peek from behind his hiding place, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening by the door. Another shot rang out and he jerked back, not wanting to risk being taken out by his own curiosity.

"You can come out now, Eames," Arthur's familiar voice greeted him.

The forger felt relief and anger flood over him at the same time. He pushed himself to his feet, clutching at his injured shoulder. Eames approached the point man, glaring, knowing that the other man would know exactly what he was about to ask.

"I had to come after you," the point man admitted, putting away his weapon, "I did some research on the people you were working with and found their resumes to be completely lacking."

"I didn't need you to get me out of this."

"Your dead teammates tell me otherwise."

Eames wanted to argue and the words were on the tip of his tongue when he realized that the point man looked pale. Then his eyes were drawn to the dark mark blooming on the other man's chest, "Arthur?"

Arthur smiled weakly at the forger, "I'm fine. It didn't hit anything vital."

Eames couldn't stop himself as he pulled the other man to him, crushing their lips together. Arthur made a startled sound into the kiss, first tensing and then relaxing in the forger's grip. Then Eames' hands were cupping the point mans face, saying, "I'm not worth it, darling."

And Arthur replied, "But you are."

…~~~~…~~~~…

"Can't sleep?" Arthur asked, approaching Eames with a glass of water in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other.

The forger smiled, leaning back against the railing of the balcony, "You know how I am before a job."

Eames plucked the cigarette from the point man's fingers, swiftly pressing the filter to his lips and inhaling deeply. He stood there for a long moment, slowly exhaling. The night air was cool against his skin and the silence around him was incredibly comforting. When he felt Arthur's warm hand on his own, he gave the other man a sideways glance, smiling radiantly.

"You'll be careful this time, right?" the point man asked, his fingertips tracing over the forger's knuckles.

"I promise," Eames answered, taking the other man's hand raising it to his lips.

Arthur nodded before he smiled, sipping from the glass in his hand. He stared out at the city below and his eyes wandered from building to building, watching as lights slowly blinked out. Then he was pulled out of the moment, Eames' hand gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him into a deep and passionate kiss. The cup in his hand fell to the floor and shattered, but he hardly even cared as he felt those hands dragging him back inside, lips still locked.

…~~~~…~~~~…

Arthur's brow furrowed in concentration as he looked over the work he had in front of him. He had been gathering as much data as he could, but there were still bits and pieces missing, pieces he knew he would have to get by different means. The job required more than just hacking, it required high level access that was beyond his reach. Even if he did manage to break into the database, he ran a high risk of getting caught. That would surely spell the end of the job.

"What are we going to do then?" Cobb asked, sounding unsure and concerned. It was his first job since inception and the extractor knew that he was out of his depth with this one. He had never expected to encounter such a hurdle.

"I think I have a solution," Arthur said, carefully weighing his words. He knew Cobb wouldn't like the idea one bit. "Hartman has high level access to government files."

"No!" the extractor snapped and the point man almost jerked back in surprise. "You know as well as I do what he would want from you. I'm not going to put you in that position."

"It could be the only option we have."

"And you're alright with that?"

Arthur hesitated, knowing that his answer would be a lie if he spoke.

"What about Eames?" Cobb asked, his face a mask of worry.

"He knows it comes with the territory."

"Arthur."

The point man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Instead of speaking, he simply grabbed his coat and headed out the door. He needed to clear his head and get away from Cobb. He needed to get away from the mention of Eames because that single name made him doubt all his actions.

…~~~~…~~~~…

Eames' hands were covered in blood when he walked through the door. He immediately went to the bathroom and turned on the faucet, getting the water as hot as he could stand. He hissed when he placed his hands under the running current, watching as the liquid turned pink. The scraps on his hands burned when he grabbed the soap and started to work up lather.

He could hear Arthur, closing the front door, then the sound of the point man's heavy coat hitting the floor. Eames focused on cleaning himself up, even as he heard the other man stepping into the bathroom and turning on the shower. Steam immediately started to fill the room. The forger heard the sound of the shower curtain being pulled back, then the unmistakable sound of Arthur stepping into the tub. With his shoes still on.

Eames turned off the faucet and turned to the tub, his eyes falling on the open curtain and then to the point man, sitting there, huddled under the hot spray with his clothes still on. The forger's heart ached seeing his lover that way. With a sigh, he pulled off his own coat before climbing in behind Arthur, still clothed. He leaned forward and pressed his chest against the point man's back.

"Arthur," Eames whispered, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist.

"I'm sorry," the younger man breathed, his hands gripping the forger's arms so tight it hurt, "I'm so sorry."

"Hush," Eames replied, pressing soft kisses into the side of Arthur's neck, "Hush now."

The forger knew he didn't have to say anything. Just like he knew, when he barged in on Hartman trying to shove his cock down Arthur's throat, he would hurt and kill anyone who so much as tried to touch his lover without permission. Sexual favors were nothing new to Eames. People in the business gave them all the time for a number of services. No, Eames had nothing against Arthur doing what was needed for a job. It was the fact that Hartman had tried to force himself on Arthur that caused the forger to snap.

Cobb had known something of that nature would happen and had called Eames. The forger had been hesitant at first, not wanting to intrude on Arthur's job. But the way the extractor spoke to him made him fear for the worst He thanked all that he believed in that he had taken the suggestion and followed the point man.

"You're alright," Eames said softly, "You're alright."

…~~~~…~~~~…

"You need to stop doing this!" Eames was furious, sitting in a dirty, rundown motel, trying to stitch up a gash in his thigh.

"Doing what, Eames?" Arthur asked, his voice cold and sharp.

"Trying to rescue me!" the forger snapped, "I didn't ask for your help! I can take care of myself!"

"You don't seem to be doing a very good job," the point man retorted, throwing a first aid kit down on the bed Eames was occupying, "You always pick the seediest of people to do jobs for. Why are you even surprised anymore when I come running?"

"I don't need you looking out for me! I'm not a child!"

"And throwing a fit is going to prove that sentiment, how?"

"Fuck off."

Arthur stood there for a long moment, watching as the forger worked to close the bleeding wound. The expression in his eyes shifted from anger to hurt, then back again. The transition was so fast, Eames almost didn't catch it.

The point man shook his head and gave a quiet, bitter laugh, "You're welcome."

"Arthur," Eames could feel regret surging through him. The other man held up his hands, not wanting to hear it. Then he was making his way toward the door and the forger could do nothing to stop him. "Arthur, wait!"

The point man paused at the door, but he didn't look back. When he spoke, his voice was calm, "I'll see you back home."

Then Arthur was out the door and Eames swore under his breath. He had to close his eyes and count to ten to regain his composure. He knew Arthur was just looking out for him, but he couldn't help the way he felt when he saw his lover standing there, fighting his battles for him.

…~~~~…~~~~…

"I'm sorry," Arthur said, the moment Eames had walked through the door. It had been three months since they last saw each other, their jobs having kept them separated.

"What are you sorry for?" the forger asked, putting down his things in the hall and approaching the younger man, hands already reaching out.

"For suffocating you," the point man answered, taking one of Eames' hands, "I just worry."

"I know, darling. You think I don't worry?"

Arthur gave a weak smile, "You don't act like a stalker because of it."

"It's enduring," Eames laughed, pulling the other man to him, "I thought about it and I certainly don't mind you saving my sorry ass once in a while as long as you let me return the favor without complaint."

The point man laughed in return, nodding into the forger's shoulder. They held each other for a long moment, both having missed one another in the past months. It felt good to be home, to be held and assured that everything would be okay.

"Now, how about we go into the bedroom and work off some of that stress?" Eames whispered into Arthur's ear.

The younger man punched the forger in the arm, but didn't turn down the suggestion.

…~~~~…~~~~…

"We should get away for a while," Eames suggested over breakfast one day.

Arthur looked up from his newspaper, "You mean a vacation?"

"I don't know," the forger said slowly, worried how the words would come out of him, "I think we should drop off of the face of the earth. Get ourselves out of this business and start a real life together."

"Yeah?" the point man's face was lighting up, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Eames nodded, smiling at the look on his lover's face, "Yeah."

"Okay, let's do it."

"Really?"

"Eames."

"What?"

"I love you."

In that moment, Eames was sure he smiled like a fool. He immediately got up from his seat and pulled Arthur to him, kissing him deeply. He could feel the point man smiling into the kiss, their arms holding each other tight as they shared that moment together.

"I love you too," the forger answered, scattering kisses along the other man's neck and collarbone, "I really, really do."

"Then show me," Arthur said, raking his hand through Eames' hair.

…~~~~…~~~~…

Arthur was shivering, though he was bundled up in a sweater, heavy weight coat and a ridiculous purple scarf Eames had gotten him from a gift shop. Snow fell all around him and he had to keep himself from complaining about the weather. The forger on the other hand seemed to love it, turning his face up against the falling snow and smiling. Arthur felt he could forgive his lover's choice of destination just by that look alone.

"You know, Norway wouldn't have been my first choice," the point man said, smiling into his scarf.

"Oh you love it," Eames was smirking, feigning innocence, "Besides, I'm sure the idea of us curled up by the fire, reading intellectual romance novels, has its charms."

Arthur gave a thoughtful look, "Maybe, but I can't say I'm a fan of that rug you had them bring in."

"The one with the white fur? Darling, you really do have no imagination."

"I have plenty. I already know you have some convoluted idea of the two of us rolling around on it and having sex until neither of us can stand or see straight."

The forger opened and then closed his mouth, not sure of how to respond, "That's a bit more than what I imagined."

It was Arthur's turn to grin and instead of expressing himself in words, he gave Eames a quick peck on the cheek before pulling his coat tighter around himself.

…~~~~…~~~~…

"I'm alright, Eames," Arthur said through gritted teeth, sitting in an alley, hands clutching his thigh. Blood was steadily flowing from the bullet wound and any movement he made caused only more pain to shoot through him. "Fuck."

"Fine mess we've gotten ourselves into, eh?" Eames asked, trying to keep the humor in his voice. This wasn't how he wanted their vacation to end.

The point man loosened his tie with shaky hands before pulling it off and handing it to Eames, "You have to tie this around my leg, make sure it's tight."

"It's going to hurt like hell," the forger said under his breath before he took the article of clothing and gently eased the other man's leg up at an angle.

With steady hands, Eames wrapped the tie around Arthur's thigh, above the gunshot wound. He looked up at his lover, their eyes meeting for a moment before the point man nodded, signaling he was ready. The forger took both ends of the tie in his hands and pulled it tight, the movement causing Arthur to jerk violently. The point man made a pained sound before biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to keep quiet. Eames worked as fast as he could, tying the fabric in a secure knot. The forger's chest ached painfully as he watched his lover draw in uneven breaths through gritted teeth.

"We have to get out of here," Eames said, hand placed gently on the other's cheek, "Can you make it?"

It took him several moments, but Arthur nodded.

"Good, cause I'm sick of this fucking place."

…~~~~…~~~~…

"Your carelessness almost got you killed!" Cobb was yelling, hands gesturing accusingly, "And this isn't the first time it's happened either!"

"Just calm down," Arthur said, sound wary and tired, "We're okay."

"No, you're not," the extractor retorted, "You always knew to be guarded and careful. Then he walked into your life and you suddenly think you can just wipe the slate clean and walk away."

"Why can't I?" the point man asked, not liking where the conversation was headed, "You can walk away right now and no one would question you. What makes me so different?"

"Because you're the best at what you do! That's why you can't just walk away. Do you even remember how many enemies you've made? How many people you've rubbed the wrong way, simply by being good at what you do?"

"I don't need you telling me this. I know I have enemies, but I know I can also drop off the grid and no one would be able to find me."

"Arthur."

"Cobb, don't."

"You're going to have to walk away from this."

"I won't do that, not even for you."

…~~~~…~~~~…

Arthur looked out at the city below him, a cigarette in his hand. He had gotten into the bad habit of smoking when he was stressed, thanks to Eames. The action alone, simply having a cigarette, reminded him of his lover and he would look at the addiction fondly. Often when he was away, he would imagine the forger was there with him, smoking and chatting, smiling that easy smile no one else had. Strong arms wrapping around his waist gave him a start, but he relaxed immediately, realizing it was just Eames.

"We only have this room for the night, you know," the forger said, pressing a kiss to the back of the younger man's head.

"I'm surprised you didn't use that line earlier," Arthur replied, flicking his cigarette off the balcony and turning in his lover's arms, "You're always so eager to get me to bed."

"Why would I ever hesitate?" Eames asked, grinning from ear to ear.

The point man smiled, but his mind was in a distant place. He put a gentle hand on the forger's chest, feeling the heartbeat there, "Cobb thinks we're getting too used to the idea of being together."

"His opinion doesn't matter."

"Do you think we've gotten careless?"

"Absolutely."

"Eames."

"I'm being serious."

"So, then, what'll we do?"

"Run away together."

Arthur couldn't help but give a small laugh, "Do you think that's possible?"

"Anything is possible with you, love."

…~~~~…~~~~…

The airport was crowded, filled with people trying to reach their destinations. Eames stood by one of the kiosks, getting their tickets. They were really going to do it. They were going to run away together and leave everything behind. They could finally start to feel safe.

"Eames?" Arthur's voice was in his ear.

"Yes, darling?" the forger asked, turning to the other man. The point man stood before him, his expression was anything but happy. Eames could see the lines of worry and possibly hesitation, but he couldn't be sure. He was never good at reading Arthur when the other man didn't want to be read. "What is it?"

"Do you trust me?" Arthur asked, his lips turning up in a small smile.

"Of course."

"Do you love me?"

Eames gave the other man a perplexed look, "What's this about?"

"Do you love me, Eames?" the point man pressed.

"Yes. With all my heart."

"I love you too," Arthur said, breathlessly as he pulled the forger to him, their lips colliding in a needy and desperate kiss Eames hadn't been prepared for.

Then the sound of screaming hit him with full force and Eames couldn't react when Arthur pushed him to the floor, weapon drawn and firing. The forger saw them clearly, moving through the throng of people, their faces were recognizable. Eames remembered where they had encountered those advancing on them. Back in Norway.

"Damn it," the forger swore under his breath, reaching for his weapon.

Arthur cried out, stumbling forward, red blossoming over his back. Eames looked up and saw a man positioned in the rafters with a sniper rifle. The forger immediately took aim. The first shot he fired off missed by inches. His second hit the mark. He turned back to the point man, knowing that Arthur was exposed. He raised his weapon, ready to defend the both of them, but then his lover was standing there, blocking his view.

"Arthur!" the name barely made it out of his mouth.

Arthur was falling, the force of the bullets entering his body knocking him backwards. Eames felt as if time slowed and the volume got turned down. Nothing around him felt real as he looked over the other man, bloodied and unmoving. Then Eames was seeing red, his actions fueled by anger and adrenaline. He readied his weapon in one hand, the other retrieving the one Arthur had dropped. He aimed to kill and hardly even flinched when he felt ammunition hitting and grazing him. He was vaguely aware that he was screaming.

Then, finally, everything was quiet, save for the sirens sounding outside of the airport. Eames looked down at himself, surveying the damage. It was bad, but not as bad as it could have been. His eyes then focused on his lover, lying so still he could hardly stand it.

"Arthur?" Eames placed a hand on the point man's face, before slowly moving his fingers down Arthur's neck to check for a pulse. He gave a sigh of relief when he found one. It was faint, but it was proof of life. "Let's get the hell out of here."

…~~~~…~~~~…

Note: And that ends the story. I'm serious. That's the end. I was just so torn on whether or not I wanted a happy or sad ending. The original ending was supposed to be really sad, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it when the end of the story started approaching. I felt the ending here gives hope. I'm tempted to continue, but I don't know if I'd be able to make it work.

Thank you all for reading and please, leave a review if you liked it. I'd very much appreciate it.