Disclaimer: I don't own it. Never will.
Warning: Fluff alert!
A/N: Just felt inspired before bed. A quick little thing. Hope you all like it. Please, review.
"Take me by the hand, take me somewhere new.
I don't know who you are, but I'm with you."
The feeling wasn't leaving. Not even a little bit. It had sunk into his bones, and he felt that he would forever shiver. Wrapping his arms around himself, he tried to fight off the cold that was seeping in through his clothes, and coax some heat to the surface. It wasn't working.
He glanced about, looking for a familiar face—any familiar face. Though they all seemed fairly recognizable, like he'd seen them but hadn't really noticed them, none of them really caught his eye. None of them sent relief flooding through him. So, he continued on, sleek shoes clipping on the pavement softly. He found himself lonely and on the verge of tears.
"Darling," a baritone had him looking up, cheeks flush from the biting weather and a pet name he was sure he'd been called, but he just couldn't remember. A man in a ghastly paisley shirt hidden beneath thick layers stood before him, blocking his way with the girth of him. "Why so glum?"
He frowned, dark strands of hair falling into his narrow face. "Do I know you?"
The man seemed to smile sadly, and his gaze skimmed over the smaller man's body; it took in the way he tremored. He took off his scarf and draped it around the man's pale neck. "You know me. You just don't remember, darling."
"I want to," he surprised himself by saying, and he felt a twisting in his gut. "I want to remember."
"I know, luv."
He took his hand, their fingers lacing as snow began to fall heavily from above. He drew closer to this man of accents, tweed, and whiskey. He drew near and rested his forehead against a broad shoulder. He found comfort in it. A familiarity. He felt half mad—like he hadn't seen anyone in a million years. Like he'd been walking down that lonely street for five lifetimes and then some.
"Take me somewhere new," he muttered, other hand coming up to grip the rough material of this man's jacket as pain rippled through his abdomen.
A strong arm wrapped around his waist as he cried out from the shock of it. "Darling…"
"Please," he whispered, clinging tighter as a searing heat began to flow out of him, making him shudder worse than before. "I don't know who you are, and I don't care. Take me somewhere new. All that matters is that I'm with you."
His knees buckled, and the other man cursed and pulled him tighter, hot breath ghosting over his unbelievably icy flesh. He felt as though he was leaking out onto the snow that had dusted the sidewalk, and he was going to have to clean it up later. All alone. Again. Tears slipped down his cheeks.
"Please."
"Trust me," the man whispered hurriedly, and he nodded. "Close your eyes."
He felt a frigidness press to his temple as his gaze fell shut. There was a loud pop, and he slumped forward. When he gasped, he realized that he was no longer standing in the snow, but lying down. Not only that, but he was being cradled quite closely to another warm body. Eyes opening groggily, he inhaled deeply, relieved to be back—because he remembered exactly how he'd gotten there. The job that had been botched. The Forger that had tried to pull him out of the dream too late. The wound that had made him drop into Limbo.
A sweet kiss was pressed to his cheek as rough but nimble fingers removed the needle in his arm, urgent to get the Somnacin out of his Point Man's system.
"Eames," he mumbled, still half asleep and thoroughly exhausted from all of the time he'd spent trying to catch back up to reality. "You came for me."
A crooked smile pressed to his neck as arms wound tighter around him. "Always, darling. Always."
Fin.
