This Doesn't Look That Much Different From Home by theskywasblue (PG-13)

[laceymcbain.livejournal.com]

Fandom: INCEPTION
Pairing: Arthur/Eames (mostly implied)
Length: 1472 words
Author on LJ: theskywasblue
Author Website: theskywasblue's stories on AO3
Why this must be read: I find the concept of Limbo fascinating. It's at once somewhere that seems to offer limitless possibilities and yet it's a prison of sorts. A place where trapped dreamers go to play amongst the debris of other people's broken dreams. The story offers no explanation for how Arthur and Eames end up in Limbo, nor is it a story about being rescued from there. What it is, though, is a beautiful rendering of Limbo itself - the attraction it holds, the wondrous things it can provide, and the dark undercurrent of madness that is the inevitable result of too much time there.

This is one of those short pieces that hasn't received the attention it deserves. The writing is beautifully lyrical, and manages to capture the almost surreal nature of Limbo. There are layers of metaphor here, and it's a perfect choice for describing somewhere that isn't exactly a real place, and yet is more than a subconscious thought. I fell in love with the language of this piece, the poetry of it, and when I think of the boys in Limbo, it's this version I most often imagine.


They spend their first few hours sitting on the beach, just trying to think while the sun plays peek-a-boo between the clouds. A few restless gulls circle, a crab dances through the sand, diverting its path around Eames’ shoe. All along the shoreline, on the other side of the rocky hillside that cages in the beach, there are skyscrapers crumbling into dust and the ocean is cutting pathways up through the possibly endless cityscape that lies beyond.

When their clothes are dry, they walk up the beach and into the city, where bridges span long stretches of cold water, and famous landmarks exist side by side with places that Arthur remembers from pictures of Mal’s childhood.

It’s almost like a post-apocalyptic Rockwell painting.

There’s a certain temptation to level the whole place and start over – after all, it’s their limbo now, but every time that Arthur recognizes a tiny trace of Mal tucked into the foundations of a particularly artful construction, or a shadow of Dom in the way that two bridges interlock, he can’t bring himself to do it. Those little postcard-traces are all they’re going to have now that they’re alone.

This Doesn't Look That Much Different From Home

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