Every Atom of My Blood by tomato_greens (PG-13)

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Fandom: INCEPTION
Title: Every Atom of My Blood
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Length: 4,266
Author on LJ: tomato_greens
Author Website: fic listing on author's journal
Why this must be read:

So far I've recced several fics that deal with the mindfuck of Inception--with the possibility that the world of Inception is a dream and that those caught in it exist in various states of awareness that they are either not awake or not real at all. But reading the film literally, taking the events that happen at face value, still unearths endless possibilities for character backstories and dynamics--nearly all of which have the potential to be shattered by Mal's actions during the film. When Mal is well-written, fics that read the film literally can tap into how powerful her absence is and the way it changes the people she leaves behind.

Typically in Inception fic, Arthur is assumed to have known the Cobbs for a long time and to be an old family friend. In this fic, that trope is reversed, and it's actually Eames who's known the two of them longest, though he and Arthur meet years before canon. tomato_greens draws fabulous characterizations in this fic, told from Eames' pov in non-linear fragments and stretching from several years before canon through to its conclusion. She lets you feel how much Eames loves Mal and her whole family, and his relationship with Arthur is full of hesitation and fascination and love.

He whirls around, and yes, there Arthur is, all seventy lean inches of him, wearing his usual dress shirt and jeans––Eames is going to fall apart and die of lust in front of a baby, it's really very shameful.

"Hello, Eames," Arthur says. "Casting aspersions on my character again?"

"I have never done anything of the sort," Eames protests, which is patently untrue.

"Not without due cause, I'm sure," Arthur counters, which is actually quite right. He comes up behind Eames's chair and asks, "Can I hold the baby?"

Mal heaves a sigh and indicates the empty space on the bed next to her. "Only if you are sitting, and only if I can still touch her. Everybody wants to hold her all the time. I want her all to myself."

Arthur comes around and sits down, reaching for Phillipa and smiling down at her, Mal's hand still resting on the small pinkish bundle. Phillipa is too small to smile back, of course, but Eames can imagine it in future years, Arthur's dimples, Phillipa's answering toothy grin, well-loved. It makes him ache.

"Isn't this nice," he says, not bitterly, and leaves to get drunk at a bar three towns over.

Every Atom of My Blood