Chapter Text
Arthur twitched and snuffled in his half-asleep trance as the beginnings of the sunrise peeked through the crack between the curtains. He tried to fall back into the cosy slumber, but gave up as the heat of the day began to make his skin prickle with perspiration. Rolling his back to work out the cracks that developed from sleep, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror hanging on the other side of the room.
Three months. It had taken only three months to wear him away into this skeletal version of himself. Arthur tugged his shirt back down to cover his prominent hipbones and ran a hand over the pasty skin of his face. His dark hair was untamed on his head, ruffled over the course of the night and sticking up at all odd-angles. It was still early in the treatment, but his usually thick locks were slowly fading away in patches, frustrating him as he tried to comb it under the rest of it.
Arthur was just debating the merits of staying in bed all day when a loud voice pierced his attention. "Hey prick, are you up yet?"
"No, fuck off!" he shouted back to his sister.
"Well if you're not down here in 10 minutes, I'm going to eat all the food and you'll have to fucking starve!"
Arthur groaned and rolled out of bed, stumbling a little as he got caught in the ankles of his sweatpants, now loose enough to bag around his feet unless he tugged them back up constantly. Almost time to start investing in a new, smaller-sized wardrobe. He shuffled his feet downstairs to where his ever-charming sister was waiting with a plate of pancakes and bacon.
"Morning, ass-hat."
"Morning, skank." Charlotte smiled up at him from her spot at the bench. "Coffee's fresh, help yourself." She gestured to the coffee pot in the corner with her fork and Arthur shuffled his way over, breathing the rich scent in as he poured a mug. He'd forgotten how much he loved the feeling of being at Charlotte's, one of the very few places in the world he ever felt totally safe. They'd always been close, but after the car accident that killed their parents had seen the siblings move across the country to live with their Aunt, they'd become inseparable. Art-and-Char, Aunt Debbie called them, my head and my heart.
Arthur drank deeply from his coffee as he sat down next to Charlotte, and the pair chewed in silence, watching each other carefully, sizing each other up.
Charlotte broke first. "You know, I love having you here Art." Arthur snorted and raised an eyebrow at his sister. "But it's just that it's been three months and apart from two sentences as you rolled in with your suitcase, you haven't told me what you're doing back here in the middle of ass-fuck nowhere."
“I’m getting treatment.” Arthur couldn't help the grunt that punctuated his pronouncement as he speared a bit of bacon more viciously than intended.
“Which you obviously couldn’t get in any of those big cities you usually frequent?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Then how about you try and un-complicate it for your darling dimwitted sister?”
Arthur spared her a glance and snorted at the forced innocence he saw there. Charlotte was without a doubt the most devious person he'd ever met... besides himself, of course. She had the dubious pleasure of being the only person in the world who could could make Arthur feel guilt through sheer adoration and love. Or at least she had before Eames had stumbled into his life.
He sighed, knowing that this conversation had been 3 months in the making, and if Charlotte didn't get her way now, there was no way she'd stop until she had every answer to every question in her funny head.
“... There are a lot of people in those cities who would be happy for me to continue without treatment. And there’s not much chance I could stay in those cities without those people finding out. So I needed to be somewhere where no-one from my profession would ever come looking for me.”
Charlotte’s fork froze momentarily on it’s way to her mouth as she processed it. She blinked once, then continued eating. “Okay. So you’re a mobster?”
Arthur tugged at the baggy collar of his t-shirt. “No, but what I do is not legal. Strictly speaking.”
“Strictly speaking?”
“Or even loosely speaking.”
At this, Charlotte let out a loud whoop of laughter. “Well fuck me! Little straight laced Arthur is a criminal! Mom and dad would be so proud!” She gave him a wide smile and dug into her pancakes again. “Well then, brother-mine. Why did it take you so long to come out here?”
Arthur grimaced. “Well, Char. There’s this guy.”
The clanging of Charlotte’s fork hitting her plate echoed around the small kitchen. She closed her jaw quickly and followed up with “There’s a WHAT?”
“I’ve been seeing someone for a while now and-“
“How long is a while?”
Shrugging, Arthur refused to meet his sister’s eyes, becoming intently interested in the goings on of the neighbourhood outside her kitchen window.
“Um. A few years now. We met at work.”
Charlotte held up her hands and closed her eyes. “Art, you’re going to need to give me a few minutes here. First you tell me you’re a criminal and are possibly wanted by other criminals in a lot of cities around the world. Then you mention you have a boyfriend. And you’ve been with him for years and never bothered to tell your loving, well-wishing and never judgemental sister about him. And then you go and tell me he’s a criminal too.” She inhaled calmly. “Is there anything else you’d like to mention to me.”
Arthur huffed a laugh. “... we might be married?”
Stunned silence reigned.
“What do you mean might?”
“Well. We were in Kenya for a job and-“
“No wait. I changed my mind. I don’t think I want to know.”
“Okay." Arthur chuckled at his sister’s horrified expression. “It’s a pretty funny story actually. I’ll tell you next time we go out for drinks.”
“Assuming there is a next time.”
And just like that, the mood was sombre again.
“Okay. So this guy...?”
“Eames.”
“First name or last name?”
Arthur smiled softly to himself. “He’d have you believe it was both.”
Charlotte took in the smile and nodded carefully. “Where is he?”
Looking anywhere that wasn’t meeting his sister’s gaze, Arthur nodded back. “I left him at our old home in Santa Monica. A few months before I came out here.”
“And he’s why you didn’t come out straight away? Because this is the first place he would have looked?”
“Yeah.”
"So he's special enough to you that you'd not only keep him around for a few years, but you deigned to tell him about me too?" Arthur nodded, eliciting a low whistle from Charlotte. "Wow, Art. Hold him close and don't ever let him go."
"I wish it was that simple, Char." The two sipped their coffee in companionable silence for a few minutes.
"So what are you going to do? I mean... I know your job is dangerous so I'm guessing you can't stay here forever, can you?"
Arthur dropped his eyes to his plate. "No, I can't. Eventually someone is going to come after me, and I can't put you at risk." He looked up through his lashes at Charlotte, who nodded thoughtfully.
“You should call Eames.”
“Not an option. I left for him for his own good. I was a burden, and he didn’t deserve to be held back and tied down. He’ll be better off without me.”
“But you’d been together for years. Sounds like he was okay with being tethered to you.”
“You don’t understand. I’m weak and I would put him at risk. In our business he’s just as well-known as I am, and that’s far too dangerous.”
"And you don't think he's capable of making that choice for himself?"
"Char. Eames isn't like me. He's... he's like you. He loves so much and so hard that he can't make a rational decision about our relationship anymore and it's going to get him killed." He looks up to find her assessing him carefully, eyes narrowed.
"I wonder if you're ever going to learn that there's no such thing as 'rational' when it comes to relationships."
"Of course there is." Charlotte shrugged as she got up and walked into the kitchen and rinsed off her plate.
"You're all brain - thoughts, analysis, planning are all second nature to you. But you never think about emotions. About why he loves you. Have you ever asked him?"
"No, I know why he loves me. We have very similar life goals, we're both competent enough that we trust each other when working, we're compatible as partners in business and as friends, and there's obviously the physical side of things."
"That's it?" Arthur’s eyebrows knit together as he considered.
"Yeah. What other reason is there to love someone?"
Charlotte threw her hands up in the air. "Oh, I don't know, Art! Maybe your cologne reminds him of his favourite teacher at school, or the way you make him laugh reminds you about his childhood pet that he used to have adventures with. Maybe you make him feel good about himself and that’s exactly what he needs in his life. Maybe your stuffy, uptight personality blends so well with his that you’re basically one person now.”
"Those aren't reasons to love someone. Those are just delusions about love that we have forced down our throats every time we watch a romantic comedy.”
"Of course they are! They're some of the logical reasons to love someone."
"Didn’t you just say there was nothing logical about love??”
“No, I said that there was nothing rational about love! And you're a robot, Art. I love you, but God help me, you're an honest to God machine sometimes, I have no idea how you continue to function in this world.” She sat back and fixed him with a withering look. “Do you love him? I mean, really love him in a stupid roses and chocolates and Meatloaf ‘I’d do anything for love’ kind of way?”
Arthur snorted “No, but-“
“Arthur.”
He rolled his eyes. “I suppose so.”
“Does he make your life happier? Do you show those cute dimples of yours when you’re around him?”
“Yes, but-“
“And you’re married?!”
“Technically, but-“
“Well then, Arthur-Fucking-Darling. Go call your fucking boyfriend and haul ass back to his place right fucking now. Because you’re an idiot who doesn’t know the first thing about emotions and messy things like love and I’m here to tell you that clearly this guy sounds like he’s good for you and since he’s been able to keep up with you, he’s clearly not a dumb guy and he can make his own decisions. You’re a fucking ass-clown.”
Arthur slapped his hands against the bench as he pushed his seat back. "Great talk. Char. You have a real way with words that makes me feel wonderful about myself."
"Yep. Now get lost. I've got a friend coming to stay in a couple of weeks and I'd promised her the guestroom." Charlotte stood behind her own chair, arms crossed and eyebrow cocked, and Arthur felt his heart swell with a deep love that he hadn’t felt for a few months. He swooped forward suddenly and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Thanks Charlotte. I think I needed that.”
“You did. I was actually serious about my friend though, and this seemed like a good time to bring it up. Besides, you’ve got a bed being kept warm by a pretty special man. Go back to it.”
Arthur hummed his agreement. “I’ll pack and get my treatment and files transferred so I can be out of your hair tomorrow.”
“Great. Well. I’m off to work. So I’ll see you tonight, right? Final dinner together, I’ll get beer.”
Arthur couldn't help his nose crinkling in disgust. “I’m more of a wine person these days, you know.”
“Well, I’ll get wine then, you pretentious fuck.”
“Not the cheap kind?”
“Oh, you know me. I’ll get the cheapest.” Arthur groaned and made his way back upstairs to start packing.