Quite AU? I would say it is. I don't think it's even romance, *pinches my nose* so please forgive me. Thank you if you give it a chance.

Disclaimer: There are multiple generic quotes that have been integrated within the story. I do not take credit, yet I do not know who or if anyone has ownership over those quotations. Also I do not own Inception, as I am positive everyone knows!

I'd rather have a life of 'oh wells' than a life of 'what if's .

A young man who went by the name of Eames was proper and a charmer even at his age of 15. He waved hello to the young nurses who pushed patients in wheelchairs, and always greeted the receptionists. A daily burst of sunshine, they had nicknamed the lad himself. A welcomed source of entertainment to staff and the cared for alike.

Eames had just turned the corner when he knocked into a young small boy, who looked up at him immediately with a guilty face. Dressed in what seemed to be like regulatory patient clothes, Eames raised his eyebrow at the fact he was rather displaced from his room where he probably should've been. He was awfully young to be left uncared for. "Hello there," He kneeled down and looked the brown-haired child in the face, "Are you lost?"

The boy shook his head and looked back at him with crystal blue eyes that engraved Eames to the core of his mind. "Just wandering around," the little boy said softly, pursing his lips.

"I don't think you're supposed to be doing that, especially without anyone bringing you around," Eames mentioned, with a laugh behind his words. "Come on, I'll bring you back to your room," he extended his hand to bring the young boy back to his room, smiling to himself as the boy sceptically grasped at him. "Where is your room? You should take me there."

The little boy nodded, and pulled at the taller stranger of a man to follow his lead. A few turns of lefts and rights with the same blank walls, and eventually they ended up in a more exclusive section of the hospital. Eames opened the door and peeked in to a very empty and impersonal room. 'Not even a single toy or bouquet of flowers…' he noted. The boy took his place on his bed and hugged his knees to chest, as he sighed. 'Not that I blame him, this must be awfully boring.'

Eames chose to sit on the bed, figuring that since he was here, he could at least keep the young boy company for the moment being. "So how long have you been here?"

The boy wrinkled his nose, and pouted. "Too long," he mumbled and he shot a curious look at the man he did not know.

"Why are you here?" Eames' curiosity really did get the better of him, but these were just simple innocent questions.

"What are you, a doctor?" A sharp retort blurted out of the boy, a trait that probably got him in trouble often. "And no lying!" The lack of a big white coat made the boy think otherwise, and he wrinkled his nose immediately.

Eames could only laugh at this, shaking his head. "I'm not a doctor. I'm just a helper here in the hospital. My name is Eames."

"Eames, I've never heard that before." The boy murmured the name multiple times, trying out the foreign word on his tongue. "You talk funny too…" He said rather tactlessly, but the boy was not older than age of six, he couldn't possibly know any better. (Although many would say that parenting played a big role in situations such as this…) "Oh and I'm Robert." The boy offered shyly with a tiny smile and reached out to shake his hand.

He gave a big grin in return, and took his hand for the second time in the tiny span of time they've met. "Well Robert, I talk funny because…" And he dove off into the rest of the afternoon in conversation with the young boy.

The two easily lost track of time, especially with Eames being the man of entertainment, such as his re-enactment of various characters that kept Robert amused all night. Eventually the young boy had to go to bed; the nurse who checked in on Robert gave Eames an odd look, but after attending to her duties, left just as quickly.

He hadn't realized the time had passed by so fast, and he looked at Robert and bit his lip, "I guess I have to get going, buddy. It's really late—" Robert face fell quickly, and he stared at him with such a crestfallen expression that Eames couldn't help but reach forward and pull him into a big hug for a goodbye. "And you, young man, have to go to bed." The nurse had given him some medicine that would certainly make the boy drowsy within moments.

Eames had started to leave, when he felt tiny hands attempt to grasp at his own, and he could feel his heart falter a little when Robert mumbled out in a small, tired voice. "Will I ever see you again, E-Eames?"

"Yes," he stood still, and smiled uneasily, as he gave an empty promise. "I'm sure you will, darling."

Eames was no longer a volunteer at the hospital, but a part-time worker throughout his years. He hadn't been able to commit to any other thing in particular, other than his stay at the hospital. Schooling majors, other jobs he half-assed, you name it. He found his calling in acting, playing other characters, he supposed, but it wasn't getting him anywhere yet, even if he located in California. No phones ringing off the hook with jobs for him, amongst millions of others.

It wasn't for another few years the two ever met again. Same setting, different situation.

An alarming blare of ambulances came in bringing two persons on stretchers, the usual chaos upon them all. "And what did you say their names were?" Eames had his pen ready to write out the usual forms despite all the havoc wreaked. "The Fischers? A younger boy and a lady. Mother and son, presumably. I think I heard the mother calling out his name, Robert was it? Can't be sure." One of the ambulance drivers mentioned, before getting back to his vehicle.

Later rather than immediately, Eames found out that the family had gotten into a pretty rough car accident. Although it couldn't mean much, the name Robert hit him like a rubber band snapping onto skin. There were a million 'Robert's all over the world, and this was probably just another one of these…

For the next few days, he heard little gossip about the hospital, especially popular with the younger ladies. "The Fischer? Maurice Fischer's wife and son? No way!" Now he wasn't one to keep up with whatever gossip of new celebrities, or even read the common news, so he had no clue who the two patients were. The two were probably out of intensive care by now, Eames thought, and he looked through the lists of patients to see where the Fischers were located. On this little hunt, he went to look for the rooms listed, and found a slightly injured brunette boy in a secluded room. 'Where is his mum?' Eames wondered to himself, gazing over the boy who had an arm wrapped in a cast, and a few scratches here and there.

The young boy Robert, noticed someone by the windows and sat up in the bed, looking with curious eyes. 'Those eyes-" Eames felt his breath hitch, and his heart beat a little faster at the recognition. "There's no way." He backed away from the window and left as if he'd never been there.

Curiosity did get the better of him again later, and he asked one of the doctors regarding to where the boy's mother was. Unfortunately, it wasn't a positive answer, and he found out that the mother had passed on from the accident.

They must've mentioned the news to Robert, because that night, Eames had crept over to the boy's room again. With no response or sound of alarm, a confirmation that the boy was asleep when he slipped into the room, he heard the boy crying in his sleep and although there were conflicting emotions within him that made him feel like a creep, he reasoned with himself that he wasn't a complete stranger. He simply felt compelled to, so he pulled up a chair, and sat by the boy's bed until sleep took him away.

Luckily, he'd woken up before any staff walked in on him being in the boy's room.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

There was a note that said the boy Robert Fischer Jr would be dismissed today. Eames had read up a little bit more on the boy since, finding out he was the son of some man who owned an Australian company. He acted normally in the halls, walking the familiar path to Robert's room. To be honest, he hadn't even spoken to Robert once his entire 'trip' here at the hospital. He felt a little guilt, but couldn't find a reason for bringing himself to say hello. 'He probably doesn't even remember me,' Eames convinced himself. 'He was only five or six last we met.'

He was right by the door of Robert's room, the boy getting ready to be dismissed. There was a man in a suit with his back to Eames, and Robert was clearly frustrated, a face about to break down any moment now. He was still fragile from his mother's death, or whatever this man was saying to him. It was quiet when Eames heard slight sniffles, and a voice that said sternly, "Robert," the man sighed. "There's really nothing to be said." He left the room easily, nodding his head as he murmured a polite 'excuse me' to Eames.

Robert held his head down low. It wasn't until his shoulders started shaking up and down that Eames realized the boy was crying. Instinctively, he rushed forward and gave the boy a pat on the shoulder. The boy lifted his head up, probably in hopes of seeing his father. But when these hopes were dispelled, and in front of him was this vaguely familiar yet unrecognizable man, he looked up in shock. He let out as a sliver of a whisper, like a tiny gasp from the wind that Eames couldn't quite capture.

Robert hastily tried to wipe his tears away, and gather himself together in front of the man who was practically a stranger, but even so, Eames couldn't help himself but to gather the younger male into a big hug. "You'll be okay, darling, you'll be alright yet. Just you wait and see."

With that, Robert just cried out all the tears that he wouldn't have been able to cry out otherwise.

Eames never saw the boy again.

Well, Eames never saw the boy directly, in the flesh again. On television, and newspapers? That was another story. Robert and his father were on the news from time to time, and Eames always managed to be watching the telly when this did happen.

It's been a little over ten years since the two last met, and while Eames did his best to dismiss any situation that happened with the boy, little slivers of memories came back to his mind.

"Don't go. I can't do this on my own," Robert said softly, while tearing up. His chauffer was waiting for him rather impatiently, looking at his watch. He grabbed at the edge of Eames' shirt, and tugged lightly in sorrow-tinged annoyance. Ironic that he was telling Eames not to go, when Robert was the one who had to dutifully leave.

Eames lifted up young Robert in an embrace and the pair hugged tightly. Almost like father and son, some would think if they hadn't known any better. "You'll be great. Be strong for me, yea?" Such personal things between two very impersonal characters, Eames thought to himself. Was this more in self-denial of the deep-rooted impressions the two had left in eachother?

The two shared an uneasy final expression before parting. "Will I ever meet you again?" Deja-vu.

"I'm sure life has its ways of working, Robert." The last thing Eames saw before he entered the black limo that took him away, was Robert's genuine smile.

One that he wouldn't see for the many years to come.

Some memories never fade.

Before there were freight trains in dreams, and deceased wives that would haunt the dream world, when Cobb and Eames had worked together previously, there would always be a little young boy that popped into the dream scenarios, regardless of the situation. Eames would shake his head, and mumble a small apology, blaming it on a false excuse of a deceased nephew, a child, something of the sort. Since it never became a blatant distraction, Cobb usually let it go. The projection was never a 'problem'.

Even when he wasn't on a job, the young boy still appeared in his dreams.

When Cobb approached him in the smoky casino within Mombasa with an offer he couldn't refuse… Another chance at Inception and perhaps, such a well-built team that would possibly successfully do so- He leapt at the chance.

It wasn't until later that Saito had passed on the files to Cobb and himself, mentioning the mark. None other than Robert Fischer Jr. Life definitely had a funny way of twisting itself to situations like this.

Eames knew he should've backed out at this point, but he- Something was keeping him in it. Perhaps it was the fact that he really wanted to see the boy again, even in a method like this. After all, he was a thief in some ways, right? A boy, he'd called Robert. Not even the case, as Saito mentioned that the young Fischer was 32, and an heir and whatnot.

Having blocked out the conversation, as his own mind and heart raced at the idea. A little pull within at his heartstrings, and he managed to bite out a very indifferent, "How's Robert Fischer's relationship to his father?"

As if he didn't know better than everyone else here.

'This is not part of the plan,' Eames winced the second the younger Fischer locked eyes with him. Age has claimed his younger, sharper features, but it was quite obvious that he was still distinctively himself. There was no doubt Fischer would recognize him, or was this wishful thinking? Fischer was probably one who's way too many blank faces in his time, and his was probably just another left in the dust.

'Did I not use an alias or decoy on purpose?' He thought in a panic to himself; it wasn't as if he did not already put the team's plan in jeopardy just by participating. But in the end, he was a one-man team within a team, and his interests were truly prioritized with his truly on the top of the list.

If Robert Fischer Jr. had recognized him in that moment, when Peter Browning had callously opened the doors to dispell the border between the makeshift hospital room and the office, he didn't act on it.

It wasn't until the entire legal team had left, and Eames had tried to make a clean exit as well, that he found pattering footsteps after his trail. 'Do not turn around, do not turn-'

"Wait!" Robert's voice clearly spoke through the crisp air, Eames' resolve faltering quickly. "Do I know you?"

'Lie, just lie like you always do.' Eames turned and looked at the younger male carefully in the eye. "…I am part of your linguistics team, sir. Or your father's, technically speaking." He fidgeted within his pocket; nervously as the boy's bright blue eyes looked him down.

Robert took a step back, and hesitated. "I guess I was mistaken. Forgive me. I could've sworn you were this man I-" his face clouded over with uncertainty and self-doubt as he backtracked, "Nevermind." He began to walk back to the office, but couldn't help but look over his shoulder back at the man, and blinked innocently when the lawyer still stood there, staring right back at him.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I can't do this," Eames muttered, even while he was a perfect double for Peter Browning in practice.

"Yes, you can." Cobb rolled his eyes, and stared him down. "You don't know what's riding on this, Eames. My life, my children…"

"I know, you can finally go home." Eames sighed miserably, and placed his fingers on his temples, massaging his tired mind. "But I'm not the right man for the job."

"Yes, you are. I don't see what the problem is, Eames."

Eames stayed silent, not divulging any further information. He'd try to commit the best he could, but there was only so much he could do before reality would take control.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Fischer had just been notified that his private jet would be in for unscheduled maintenance. The entire team and Fischer were waiting momentarily for the other aircraft to get ready, when Eames decided to pop over for a coffee.

What he didn't know what was that Fischer was waiting upon one too, and the two stood in odd silence. Fischer had gotten his drink before the other man, and was ready to leave, but his mouth was open agape, hesitant to speak. "I-I.."

Eames couldn't ignore this, and looked curiously at the younger male heir, waiting on what had to be said.

"I can't help but think that… I know you."

"You can't believe everything you think, darling—" Eames bit his tongue at his habitual method of speaking and cursed himself in his head. Hoping that Robert wouldn't notice, he thanked the attendant for the coffee, and looked away.

Robert froze, and moved to look better at Eames right in the face, the pair being a little too close for comfort. "Look at me," he instructed, "Look at me, please." A little more hasty, he set down his drink and courageously grabbed Eames right in the jaw to face himself. "Eames?"

'This is really, really, not good.' Eames thought to himself, his eyes closed as he mentally grimaced at the imagined expression of Cobb's face. He could feel it now, the rage he'd get later… Oh he'd regret this. Or would he? "…Yes?" He bit his lip the second he responded.

"It is you." Robert's eyes were wide and lively. "I knew I couldn't be wrong again, I just couldn't—" He grasped at the older male's arm tightly for a second, before stepping back and grabbing his drink again. "W-where, how… I mean." His excitement bubbled away in his words, and astonishment couldn't leave his physical state even if he tried. "Where are you off to?"

"Oh, um. LA specifically, I'm on a private jet, I believe,"

"No kidding, I am as well," Robert made a face as he pointed out to his own personal jet being maintained. "Maybe we'll be on the same flight."

The look on Cobb's face of horror-stricken anger couldn't be held back, when he saw the young Fischer Jr. carrying on a solid conversation with his own Forger. "This can not be happening. Not now, not ever. I can't believe this. He's going to ruin the entire plan."

"I told you, you should've found another." Arthur stated simply.

"I believe we should abort until we find another," Cobb groaned, running a hand through his golden hair. He wasn't going to risk his entire life behind bars, even if it meant another couple of months of planning. Pulling Saito aside, they carried on to a detour of an agreement.

Eames was positive he could feel the glares of the rest of his team, shooting daggers into his skull. Trying to ignore this the best he could, he focussed on the bright, and delightfully cheerful man in front of him. In the months he'd spent in Maurice Fischer's company, he'd never once spied on his young friend with any other emotive response other than courteous ones of professionalism. 'Very refreshing.'

The wheels had been turned, and plans have changed when an Airplane staffer came by to notify Fischer that his own personal jet was clear to fly. Eames took a careful look around at the terminal, and not a single member of the team was left. Fischer had continued on talking to the official when Eames had turned back, and the brunette was smiling brightly at him. "What did I just miss?"

"We'll be flying to L.A. on my plane, and since it's private… The other flight got delayed, and my plane got checked out much quicker than it did. You're free to join me, you know." A twinkle in his baby blues, and Eames knew it was more of an affirmed statement rather than a request.

He followed Robert a little bit too easily into the aircraft, but nothing held back his genuine smile.

Don't look back.

Never look back.

A/N: I think I could go a little bit further with this, but I'm not too positive. I'm just a little confused at myself and… hope you enjoyed the read, if you could.