royal_musings | Reincarnates 03: for NeededForger

One of the reasons that Eames made such a good Forger was that he was a natural chameleon, he could fit in just about anywhere, and though he couldn't pass for a native currently -and especially not after just one afternoon among the locals- he could still easily pass for a transplant, which was exactly what he intended to do for as long as was possible.

He was unpacking the dishes, stacking them on the counter to give them a quick wash before shelving them, while Arthur made the required calls. The question didn't catch him off guard, as such, though it did surprise him a little that Arthur had been the one to broach the subject.

His brow creased, actually thinking that over, finally going with: "I think it probably is, yes. Especially knowing how the odds tend to go when it comes to us and people like us." Dreamers, that was, tended to skew the odds in wholly unpredictable ways even in the real world.

Although he expected that answer - it was something he had already considered himself - he still didn't like it. It wasn't as though it was bad necessarily to think of them as having lives together in.... another time and place. It was just that.... it threw their current lives in to a much different light.

He nodded and walked over to where Eames stood and helped him unpack the rest of the dishes, needing to do something with his hands. "I thought that myself," he admitted and glanced at him. It made him admittedly a little curious what else they would find out about... themselves.

"We should have phone and cable service by the end of the week. The installer will be by on Wednesday -- at some point to get it taken care of." He was told a time of course but he didn't put much stock in that.

He nodded, "We'll survive without until then, I'm sure." He replied with a small smile, tilting his head towards the newly un-boxed dishes, "Do you want to wash or dry?"

Once they'd settled in with the chore he said: "It might be some sort of side effect of long-term Somnacin use." They were still running into strange side effects aside from the loss of natural dreams, not just the two of them, but plenty of people in their profession, "But I doubt it, as I've never done a Bonnie and Clyde job. Not one that realistic and apparently historically accurate, at any rate."

That and he'd had Somnacin flashbacks before, they weren't usually that grounded in reality either, which was the other thing that was throwing him off about it.

He allowed himself a small smile and stood side by side Eames as they worked on washing and rinsing the dishes. "It could be," Arthur agreed and thought about it, handing a dish over to him after washing it. "I haven't either. Nothing like that at all."

It had felt all too real.

"May need to find an internet cafe around here and start doing a little research... see if this is something that people have had experience with before."

Honestly though? He didn't imagine much coming from said research.

"It's worth asking around, if we can do it vaguely enough." A shrug, "At least to start, no need to let people know we may be losing our minds."

Mostly their kind were a fairly secretive lot, though that was by necessity as much as it was by design, but it should be easy enough to find out on general terms if people were talking about side-effects and Somnacin flashbacks that weren't entirely too much like LSD flashbacks crossed with night terrors.

He nodded, stacking the dishes neatly in the cabinets as he finished drying them, "I've a couple Chemists I can ask, they're the most likely to know about new or odd reactions, I would think."

Arthur nodded. It was exactly what he had been considering himself. If they were to ask around, they would have to be sure to be subtle and just vague enough so no one thought they were losing it.

Much like others in the field.

"I'd say they're the best place to start since they have a hand in the making of the compounds. I have a few guys that I can ask - extractors and a chemist."

He quickly washed another plate before handing it over to Eames to rinse off. "This would be the first in my experience that I've heard of something like this. Wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't experienced it myself."

He nodded at that, "Same here, and it's weird enough that anyone else who's experienced it might be thinking the same thing we are, that it's better not to let on."

And that was as likely as anything else, really, because Dreamers were a secretive lot, as they both well knew.

He scratched an ear as he stacked the next plate in with the others, "Have you worked with Pixel before? I'll likely ask her first, this sort of thing is her wheelhouse. Compounds specifically for historical reenactments, that is. Among other odd specifics more to the hallucinatory end of things."

"Exactly and knowing the community, if there was something like this happening, that's exactly what they would think."

They were a paranoid and secretive bunch.

"Yeah, she was on one of the last jobs we took together. If there's any chemist who will have heard something, she would have," he agreed. He paused briefly thinking of how many times Eames and he tended to work together but honestly? Considering their specialties and their job reputations, he supposed it wasn't that surprising that they would work often together. Or at least, as often as possible when the job required a forger.

He started on the glassware and took the time washing them then handing them over to Eames.

"I'm going to take a shot int he dark and say that no one has heard of anything like this before," Arthur finally ventured.

"I suspect you're right about that, as loath as I am to say so aloud." That was definitely a tease, though not a very good one all things considered, "And if it isn't due to Somnacin use, I'm not sure that I really want to know what it is due to."

Because that would be an even wider net to cast as far as gathering information, and was bound to bring in more crazy theories and legitimately crazy people than just searching among the dreamsharing circles.

He dried and shelved the glasses just as carefully as Arthur washed them, "I'll drop Pixel a line once we've finished here, not sure what time zone she's in these days, might be a while before she's able to reply."

Arthur's mouth curled up at Eames' teasing words then shook his head in agreement. "I agree; if it isn't due to Somnacin use, I'm not sure what else it could possibly be. And if I want to know."

He nodded. "That's step one at least - reach out to a few trusted contacts."

It didn't take much longer for them to get the rest of the dishes washed, rinsed and dried. "Hopefully within the week we'll have a better idea of what's going on." Truth was, he wondered if and when the next one happen - emphases on the if portion of that statement.

It was while Eames was putting together sandwiches for dinner that his phone chimed, letting him know that he finally had a reply from Pixel.

"Pixel says she's had a few people with flashbacks, but nothing serious, so I'm guessing not to the caliber that we had, and definitely not without a reenactment beforehand to spawn it, but she'll ask around." If he knew her, she'd just do a follow-up/experience survey for anyone who'd participated in one of her historical rebuild experiments just to gather information.

He had expected that. After what they'd experienced, he had expected that hardly anyone would have experienced something quite like that. Arthur nodded. "I thought as much," he said, pouring both of them something to drink before returning the pitcher to the fridge and hands a glass off to the forger.

"I'm doubting anyone has experienced anything quite like we have. I'm still waiting to hear back from Xavier, the extractor out of Madrid, if he's heard if anything quite like this before." He had asked cryptically enough and trusted the guy. It didn't hurt that the man had access to a private plane should the need ever arise.

"Mm, ta." He said as he accepted the glass, taking a sip before setting it aside so he could continue working on the sandwiches, some combination of cold roast beef and warm fried eggs, with tomato and spinach and sweet white onion.

"We're probably going to run into a whole lot of nothing and have to work this out for ourselves." He shook his head, "Whatever 'this' is. I doubt it's going to be as easy as all that." But being who he was, he was curious enough to keep pursuing any information instead of just pretending it hadn't happened.

The sandwiches not only smelled good but they looked really good but Arthur wasn't too surprised by that. After how much take out he normally date on the job, anything they made themselves was infinitely better.

Arthur nodded and leaned against the counter, taking a sip from his glass. "I'd be more surprised if someone had experienced what we did," he admitted then nodded in agreement once more. "With the two of us on the case, I have no doubt we'll get to the bottom of it."

If it was something they should expect more of, Arthur rather be prepared than left in the dark of whatever "this" was.

"Probably still take a while, even with the two of us." He replied, smiling crookedly, "But we're nothing if not persistent."

Especially when they were working together on something. They'd always pushed each other in the best sort of way, and Eames didn't see that changing anytime soon.

He picked up a plate in either hand, nodding towards the table, "C'mon, let's eat and we'll see about going for a walk or something after." Mostly because Eames still wanted to get a better idea of the lay of the land, cement escape routes if they became necessary.

"Doubt we'd be where we were if we weren't persistent," he responded with a rueful smirk.

Eames wasn't the only one. Arthur doubted anything would ever change between them when it came to work and how they knew how to push one another. In fact, it was something he nearly relied on.

Arthur nodded and picked up a plate then took a seat at the table with him. "I'd like to get a better idea of our surroundings," he admitted with a nod. "Get a good look at what we're faced with in case we need to make a hasty getaway."

It wasn't so much of a 'in case' as it was 'when' because although it may not happen right away, the fact was there that it could happen in the future. No matter who was staying there.

It always amused Eames a little when he and Arthur shared a line of thought even without being on the dream-plane, and he was never sure if it was just their personalities, or if it was echoes of how often they'd shared a mind, how often they'd traipsed through each other's subconscious, or if it was something else entirely.

It was also something that he was going to question, or at least look at more closely, considering recent developments. But not just at the moment, right then he was going to enjoy his lunch and worry about where their minds overlapped later.

"We'll be safe enough here for a while yet, especially once we get the security set up." Though even without they had a few weeks before any of their compatriots tracked them down, and more than that for their enemies, even with their putting out feelers and asking questions, "But a good escape route is always useful to have on hand, along with enough cash to get you to the next country."

"We have at least a few weeks," he agreed with a nod before picking up his sandwich and taking a bite of it.

They had time yet and in that time, he was undoubtedly sure they would question and look into things a lot closer regarding recent developments. He felt safe here, for the time being. Something that he didn't take lightly.

He was silent for a while as he ate and thought through everything that had transpired. "It's times like these that I'm equally thankful for the jobs that don't end in a shootout."

Such as the job they had taken during the winter where they ended up in a snowball fight one late night.

He snorted softly, "More of them don't than do, but it always seems like it's the other way around." He could count the number of jobs he'd had that ended with violence on one hand, well, on both hands, but he'd still have fingers left over, but that was only a small percentage of the jobs he'd been on, with and without Arthur.

He took a bite of his own sandwich, chewing almost thoughtfully before he added, "Unless you've more a habit of getting shot at than I remember." He doubted that, Arthur was generally more careful than Eames was to avoid complications that could turn violent, but sometimes that wasn't always an option, depending on the employer and the job.

"True but regardless of how often it happens, it makes me thankful for every time it doesn't happen," Arthur said before he took another bite of his sandwich. He still felt the wound pull and ache but it was more of a dull pain now instead of the sharpness it started out being. Unless he moved in a certain way.

He shook his head at the question and picked up his glass. "No, I don't make it a habit of getting shot any more than I ever did." He took a drink then sat it back down. Arthur was always careful - he couldn't control what crazy people did though. "As much as I try, I can't control was crazy people will do."

"That's true." He replied, nodding, "And honestly you really oughtn't try to control that sort of thing, only gets frustrating when you aren't able to. Easier just to roll with it in the rare cases that it happens, yeah?" At least that was how Eames generally handled things, and it did seem to work for him.

There was a smile then as he asked Arthur to pass the salt, and he knew as soon as his fingers brushed Arthur's while accepting it just what was going to happen.

It was another flash.

All he knew was that they were crusaders of a sort, though just whose crusade or when, he didn't know, he remembered that their group had been sent to rout out a coven of witches, ones that could call down demons, they had been winning until someone called down a storm.

The rain was torrential and was slowly but surely winning out over the bonfires, smelling of oil and a little bit of sulfur. Most of, if not all, of the rest of the crusaders were dead, and Arthur and himself were staring each other down, Eames so, so sure that Arthur had been possessed that he himself was still untainted. Eames was just faster, knife finding its way easily between Arthur's ribs, finally meeting his eyes as he did so, murmuring an apology.

Of course, he had no way of knowing that Arthur was absolutely sure of the same thing; that Eames was the one possessed and he was the one still pure.

There was a sharp insuck of breath and the saltshaker clattered to the tabletop. Eames looked decidedly gray, and he pushed his chair away from the table, excusing himself quietly before padding away to go be sick in the bathroom sink.

After that, everything seemed to happen so quickly and the next thing Arthur knew was he was mentally transported to another time, another place where rain was falling down all around them. He could feel the lightening in the air and the rain pouring down on him. He felt cold, wet and then a piercing pain came between his ribs. Arthur watched Eames with a look betrayal - absolutely sure that Eames was the one possessed because why else would he possibly knife him like that?

Back in the real world, Arthur inhaled sharply and brought both hands up to his chest as though expecting to feel a fresh wound there. He tried to step away but managed to stumble out of the chair instead. "Fuck -- fuck," he felt his breathing coming in sharp breaths.

It was like the first time only, he didn't have a wound that mirrored this one - at least not in exactly the same place. He leaned against the island, holding his hands to his chest where the wound would have been at that time, resting his head back - images and flashes going through his mind.

Maybe one of them had been possessed. Maybe neither of them had been. All he knew was his life had been over at that moment and he'd never forget the look in Eames' eyes.

Eames had gone about brushing his teeth and then washing his hands, having to turn the water to cold almost immediately because hot was too reminiscent of Arthur's blood spilling across his fingers, something that had happened once or twice in recent memory and wasn't something he ever wanted to feel again if it could be helped.

After that he'd brushed his teeth again because he could still taste bile in the back of his throat, and he had to sit on the edge of the tub just so that he couldn't see his own face in the mirror, because that was something else he couldn't handle just then.

He knew that he should go check on Arthur -it had to have been more traumatic for him than it had been for Eames- but he couldn't quite bring himself to do so yet. Soon, certainly, but not just yet, still trying to wrap his own mind around everything he'd experienced just in those few moments.

He brought his legs up close to his chest, keeping his hands on his chest. Although there was no flesh wound there and the feeling of being stabbed was starting to fade, he felt as though he could still taste, see and feel everything that had happened right then.

Fuck.

That had been... well... fucking traumatic would be one way to describe it.

He had yet to see Eames reemerge from the bathroom but he couldn't blame the man. Not really. Arthur wasn't sure how he would take being the one to kill Eames either.

It was a good few minutes later before he felt mentally well enough to stand and put his lunch away for later. After that... he wasn't so sure he could keep anything down.

Eames did finally emerge after checking his totem three times just to be absolutely sure, still pale and a little drawn. The first thing he did was to draw Arthur into a hug, voice low and more than a little shaken, "I'm sorry, Arthur. I wouldn't... you know I'd never... I am so sorry."

The fact that Eames was at a loss for words was a testament to just how shaken he was, as that wasn't the sort of thing that generally happened to him, Eames who had a comeback ready for almost any situation, but not this time, it seemed.

His hands weren't shaking anymore, though that was through sheer determination more than it was any semblance of having recovered from the shock.

Once Arthur had put away the food, he too had checked his totem time and time again just to make sure this was, in fact, reality and he was still here. He had just pocketed the dice when Eames came back in and pulled him into a hug. He didn't think about it for a second before returning the hug tightly. The way he clung onto him betrayed how shaken he still was.

"I know," he said.

It was one thing when they both died as Bonnie and Clyde; it was another when one of them ended up killing the other.

After a long minute, though he found a part of him really didn't want to, Arthur started to pull away from him. This Eames wasn't the one that killed him those years ago. That was a different time and a different place.

"I put the food up... I didn't think either of us would be that hungry after... that."

Finding that Arthur was reassuringly solid and equally reassuringly present did settle him a little, though he was as reluctant as Arthur was to lose that contact.

He did, however, nod at the statement, "Good idea. I think really what I need right now is a cuppa." Either that or a drink, but it was too early in the day to start drinking, mostly because he knew after a shock to his system like that had been, alcohol was the last thing he needed, because if he started he wouldn't likely stop any time soon.

So instead he stepped away from Arthur to make sure there was water in the kettle, putting it on the stove, leaning back against the counter, "I think we can officially rule out Somnacin hangover at this point." Not that it had really been a serious consideration in the first place, but it had, at least, been somewhere on the list.

Arthur nodded and slid a hand around to the back of his neck and gave it a little squeeze - finding that action soothing for one reason or another. "I think that's a good idea. That or whiskey," he agreed and watched as Eames stepped away to start the kettle up.

"Agreed," he said and looked at him. "That leaves us with... something outside of the realm of normal." Something supernatural? Was that what this would constitute as?

"Though, I don't have the word to describe what exactly it is." Of course, knowing how entwined they were in past lives, didn't really change who they were as people and what they did for a living. Well. Until a flash like that happened when or if they were on a job.

"Well, Arthur, that would be paranormal." It was an attempt at levity, and it almost worked, though he honestly sounded more tired than anything, "Which I know sounds ridiculous, until you take into account what it is we do for a living."

He shook his head then, going about getting mugs for the tea, "Technological advancement and heavy drugs, I know, but we're bloody dream-walkers." He shook his head again, "That isn't something that normal people are capable of. So, taking that into account, is it really that difficult to believe that we've... what? Had other lives before this one? And that we've known each other in more than one of them?"

It was that difficult to believe, and furthermore he knew it, which was part of why he was speaking aloud, just to help sort out his own thoughts on the matter.

"It does sound ridiculous but ultimately, you're right," he granted him with a little nod. He was tired too, especially after that last flash of their shared lifetimes.

Arthur stayed silent for a long moment as he leaned against the counter and gave it a good long thought. "It's hard to believe," he said after a long moment. "But, at the same time," he continued after a slight pause. "At the same time, it's also not. When we work together, we don't even need to talk to know how the other will react." And it had been like that even when they started working together.

He was never sure why but it had been there, at least for him. It had never made sense. He didn't trust those he was just starting to work with but somehow, he did with Eames.

"Have since the beginning." He agreed with a nod, going about getting mugs and tea down from the cabinet, just waiting for the water to boil, "Got under each other's skin right from the start, I think."

Mostly in a way that made people think they wanted to kill each other, and maybe sometimes they had in those early days, it had been easy to push each other's buttons as well, also right from the start, the sort of thing that Eames hadn't even thought twice about, at least not then and only rarely now.

"Still going to contact Pixel, if I know anyone who'd know a past-life-regression therapist who's not a complete charlatan it'll be her." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, shaking his head, "And that says something about my life up to this point, doesn't it?"

Arthur nodded and stood there in silence as Eames worked on their tea. He allowed his mouth to curl up a little. "There is no 'I think', we absolutely did," he said with a chuckle. He hadn't been sure what it was about Eames at first that got under his skin but it had happened and it had happened frequently.

No, that was wrong. He knew what it had been but these days, he found it less noticeable. Now, it worked for them when they were in a tough spot and had each other to fall back on.

"Good idea. She's a handy one, Pixel," he said and slid a hand through his hair, his other in his pocket.

"I think it says a lot more about this land we've suddenly found ourselves in than anything else. After the first couple of years, I became less and less surprised by the people I met in this business."

"This line of work does pull in a certain sort of people." He replied, nodding, "That's a fair point. Of course, even among that certain sort there's all sorts of variety." And that was something that did still surprise him most days, that regardless of the similar vein in people drawn to the dreamsharing business, there were vast differences as well.

While Chemists did tend to be real-world scientists of some stripe, they weren't all, some of them were cooks, some were doctors. Extractors and Forgers alike tended to be thieves of some kind, but just as many Forgers were actors as well and the list just went on. He'd never really tried to map it before, to see if there really was one common thread among them all, that was too much of a task even for him.

"I would be more surprised if there weren't such a variety," he admitted. He was of the honest belief, like Eames, that you had to be a certain sort of person to make it in this business and even then, not all were the same. Some came from military backgrounds, some from the academic side of things and others from the wrong side of the law perhaps hearing a rumor and being drawn into the land of dreamsharing.

The one thing Arthur always figured that drew them all in was both the unknown and uncharted territory that came with dreamshare. Much like the gold rush brought people looking to make a fortune, so true was it for people to drift to mindshare to see what they could make of it.

He took out two mugs from the cabinet and sat them down for their tea once it was finished.

It was another long moment before he spoke again. "It makes me curious what other lives we've met in... what we did, who we were..."

He just nodded at that, turning to lean back against the counter instead of watching the kettle and waiting for it to boil, as he knew it would be three minutes before then anyway, "Myself as well, though I'm not entirely sure I want to know, not if we were always cut down young." That would leave too many lives cut short, and too many chances for them to have left a life unlived.

He also had to believe, he needed to think that they'd had at least one go round where they'd gotten to die old and happy in their beds, but knowing the life they had now, and the glimpses of the lives they'd had, he wasn't entirely sure he could believe such a thing.

God, wasn't that the fucking truth. Arthur wasn't exactly thrilled that in both lives now they've been shot down early. He only hoped that at least one of their lives, they lived longer and happy.

"Agreed," he said with a nod. "All things considered, it doesn't surprise me that we are who we are in this life..."

He leaned against the counter and exhaled a slow breath. "I only hope that at least one of these lives we lived longer than... 35."

Just one life. That's all he was asking... even hoping for.

"Don't know about you, but I've nearly managed that now." He did, in fact, know how old Arthur was, but he still wasn't entirely sure if he was supposed to, since most people assumed Arthur was older than he actually was, and Eames wasn't the sort of person who would out a friend that way.

The statement wasn't as much of a joke as he was trying for, and he knew just how short of the mark it had fallen, shaking his head a moment later, "Oughtn't joke about it, I suppose. Though I don't know if I can really help it."

Arthur glanced at him with a wry look. There was a part of him that knew, or at least very much suspected that Eames was well aware of how old Arthur was. As long as the forger never revealed his true age, he was fine. Truth was, he was just over the 30th mark. "Nearly there," he admitted though in truth, he was five years away from that mark.

"Honestly, I would be more surprised if you didn't try to make a joke of it," he admitted. "Or... more worried, perhaps."

There was a small smile at that, fleeting and thin, but honest at least, he meant it, "Well you aren't wrong there. We could be facing down the Four Horsemen and I'd probably still find a way to crack wise about it."

Because that was just how Eames processed things, sarcasm and a certain sort of gallows humor that he'd had ever since his time in the military, and likely even before then, though it hadn't been quite so dark before then.

"Now that we've experienced what we have, who's to say we won't end up facing them," he said with a small twist of his mouth. Though, to truly be honestly? He didn't suspect they'd come across any variation of the Four Horsemen. Still. Who the hell knew what twist this would make of their lives. How many of these visions would they share?

Arthur appreciated the humor though, dark or not. It made things feel less tense than they were and brought it back to an even keel. "Wonder how many of these we'll end up going through...these visions."

"Somehow I get the feeling we'd already know if that were the case, but perhaps not. This is well out of my realm of expertise at this point."

He shook his head, "Honestly, I'd be more concerned that we're going to end up facing them than the possibility that we already have." A little shrug, "After all, historically, or at least legendarily, this sort of thing rarely goes well for the ones living through it. Though we can't have met that many times, given even a below-average life-span. There are only so many centuries between then and now."

Arthur nodded. "As much as I hate to say it and it comes to no surprise, this is well out of my wheelhouse as well," he agreed.

He tilted his head before he nodded in agreement. Eames was probably right. There were only so many times they could have met in previous lives to warrant seeing too many visions. They were very disorienting if you asked him. He only hoped, on some level, that they had one life where they died not being shot or executed in some way. Considering who they were in this life, it may be a long shot but one he was still half hoping for.

At least that one would be... easier to view.

"We will just have to wait and see." And who knew, perhaps they wouldn't get any more after that one. That could be possible as well, right?

"Hope does spring ever-eternal." He replied, giving a little shrug. Honestly it was hope that they wouldn't have any more, but it was also a hope that if they did they wouldn't be as disturbing as the ones they'd had so far.

"We can also hope that it's just some bizarre hallucination, something brought on by repeated Somnacin usage." After all, natural dreams were the first thing to go, who was to say that they didn't come roaring back as shared waking nightmares? Though he doubted that, and it said a lot that he accepted the possibility of reincarnation over the more easily proven drug interaction.

Reincarnates 03: for NeededForger

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