Against Us

Part Eleven

Eames managed to clear his head on the way back to the city and realized that he could be leading them to Arthur. For all he knew they had no idea where he was and they were waiting for him to take him straight to Arthur's door. Eames clenched the wheel of the car hard enough that his knuckles turned white because there was nothing he could do. If he went to Arthur he might cause more trouble but if he did not then there was the chance that he could not save his friend. The thought of Arthur dying made something clench in his stomach. It was a feeling that he had not felt since his time in the service when there was a chance that one of his squad mates was missing and could be dead. The man had been his best friend in the squad and his death had torn something apart in Eames. It was the same feeling only so much worse.

In the end he realized that all he could do was wait. If Arthur got away they would meet up but if he went in guns blazing they would either get used as leverage against each other or get each other killed. Eames could hear his teeth grinding together as he clenched his teeth hard as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. The forger gathered all of his fire arms and set up camp next to his cell phone waiting for some sort of contact. He kept his eyes on the door with a gun in hand ready to fire at the slightest movement. The hours passed and there was still no word. Against his own will Eames drifted off to sleep.

The sound of movement jerked him awake but no one came to the door. In the end he dismissed it as his neighbors moving around next door. Eames glanced at the clock and chewed on his lower lip; roughly six hours since he had had Arthur's location extracted from him and another two at least for Louis and his men to get there. For all he knew Arthur could be dead now from four hours of torture and he was napping on the couch. At the same time he thought about Louis sitting outside, watching, waiting for him to give in and go to Arthur's apartment effectively throwing him to the sharks without meaning to. Eames was not sure which one terrified him more. All he knew was that he was slowly going out of his mind trying to figure out what to do next.

Eames sat back and tried to figure out what Arthur would do in this situation. He decided that he would try to find information without being direct about it. Eames had imagination but methods for getting information were not his strong suit. He sat and thought it over many times until he decided that calling Arthur's building was probably the only thing he could really come up with. If there was some sort of shoot out the apartment manager would mention it. Eames was in the middle of trying to find the extremely private number of the apartment when he accidentally turned the television on. The news was on and he was only half listening.

"An apartment on the north side of the city is the scene of a murder," a reporter said which made Eames freeze in place. A picture of Arthur's building flashed by and it felt like someone had dropped a pound of lead into his stomach. "Police were called to the scene to find that a violent attack had taken place. A single body was found, a man named Charles Orwalle, but there was evidence of at least three other people. The owner of the apartment is missing." Eames was not sure if he was relieved or even more worried because it was obvious that something had happened. Charles Orwalle's mug shot flashed on the screen, and Eames recognized one of the men who had been in the room when Louis shot Noah. Either Arthur was being held captive somewhere or he was on the run.

Eames swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to figure out what he could possibly do next. There was only so much he could do. It was not like he had any idea where they could have possibly taken Arthur and he was not sure where to even begin to look. If Arthur was on the run there was no telling when he could show up and if he was hurt he could bleed out on the floor while Eames was out. The forger was ready to rip his hair from his scalp because there had to be something he could do, something, because no matter what Arthur was doing now he needed help.

He busied himself packing up the majority of the things from the apartment. Even if Arthur did show up they were not safe here anymore and they would need to leave the city right away. He packed his computer and a few changes of clothes. Eames was not terribly attached to the place and he would just have his landlord put the rest in storage. When they got their bearings he would move everything to a different storage unit and figure out where to go from there. That was the part that he really was not sure of. If and when Arthur showed up all he could think about was the word 'leverage.'

If nothing else it gave Eames something else to obsess over while he got all of the important things gathered. What was Arthur to him? While they had never talked about what they were to each other it was obvious from the way Arthur looked at him that he was no closer to labeling what they had either. It dawned on him that it November and he had known Arthur for almost two years now. They had been friends for a long time before they started sleeping together but the sex had not complicated anything. The word 'leverage' kept echoing back at him. If one of them got caught and the other gave up information they could have very angry employers after them. They could put other people in danger. The look in Noah's eyes as he fell to the ground haunted Eames.

Someone banged heavily on the door and Eames clutched the gun in his hand. He heard another bang as he made his way to the door. Looking through the peephole meant that someone could shoot him in the head through the door. Instead he stayed off to the side and unlocked the door slowly. Eames threw it open, the gun poised and ready to shoot as a person stumbled in. He thrust his gun into its holster in seconds as he ran to Arthur's side to help him. The point man looked like he had been through hell; his suit was dirty and bloodied, he had a black eye and he was clutching his shoulder. Eames saw blood between the man's fingers and knew that he was still bleeding. Somehow Arthur had managed to hang onto his computer bag and Eames could see the man's hard drive in the bag along with his laptop but it looked like it was weighing him down.

"Jesus, Arthur," he muttered trying to steady him.

"We need to leave," Arthur said and he sounded winded. His face was far too pale and he looked unsteady on his feet.

"Already good to go," Eames said picking up the two bags that he needed.

"Blood," Arthur rasped. "Just give it to me and I'll take care of it." The forger grabbed a can of ammonia that Arthur sprayed it on the blood he had dripped on the floor up to Eames' apartment. "They aren't that far behind me."

"All right, we'll get the fuck out of here, just hang on," Eames said trying to help Arthur through the apartment as fast as he could. They made their way down to Eames' car and wasted no time tearing out of there. The forger managed to get out of the city as fast as he could and headed toward New Jersey. He glanced at Arthur and could see that he was not doing well, that he was losing blood, and that they needed to stop so he could get him help. Eames chose a random exit and pulled into a grocery store. "Arthur, are you still with me?"

"Yes," Arthur said and at least he sounded coherent.

"I need to get something to stitch you up, are you okay to wait?" Eames asked.

"Give me a gun and get to work, Mr. Eames," Arthur said and he almost sounded insulted that Eames had asked if he was okay. Eames chose to ignore it and made his way through the checkout as fast as he could. Thankfully there was a self checkout and he was back in the car in less than five minutes. They drove for ten more minutes, got off at another exit, and Eames rented a motel room with cash. He helped Arthur through the door and wasted no time looking at the wound. It was a deep graze and judging by Arthur's color it had not happened recently. "Don't ask if I'm okay again, Eames, just bandage me up."

"Yes, sir, but you need a stitch or two," Eames said and he put on gloves. Carefully, he stitched the wound up and put a bandage on it. To Arthur's credit he did not flinch once but Eames had not expected him to. Arthur seemed to relax a little in the chair near a small desk and Eames sat on the bed nearby. "What happened?"

"I don't know. I was home for maybe two hours before that hit man showed up. We had a tussle and I managed to get away but they followed me. I was worried they'd get my phone and get to you and the rest of the team so I tossed it. They gave a hell of a chase though and I ended up having to shoot three of them before I got away. They took a chunk out of me too apparently," Arthur said and he sounded frustrated. "I don't know how they found me but I'm just glad you're okay."

"They got to me too, Arthur," Eames said. "Got to all of us actually. Shot Lizzy when she wouldn't give up the information in front of Noah. Then they shot Noah in front of me."

"I still don't know how they could have found me. The only one who knew about that apartment is me and-" Arthur cut himself off and jumped back several steps from Eames.

"No, Arthur, I didn't," Eames said and he also stood but the point man narrowed his eyes. Something inside broke at the sight of Arthur's distrust. "Not intentionally I mean."

"They extracted it from you?" Arthur asked but he made no move to close the gap between them or release the tension in his shoulders.

"Yes, they were going to snatch you and use me as leverage to get you to give up the information or yourself," Eames said. Arthur's eyes widened and Eames knew that his friend was coming to the same realization. "Noah told them that I was the one who would know where you were, that we were close, and that we'd help each other." It was a long time before Arthur sat down on the single bed and Eames sat down next to him.

"I hadn't thought of that," Arthur admitted.

"Neither had I. We could put the team in danger if we talked to save each other," Eames said heaving a sigh.

"And we know too much about each other. We could have another incident like this one and next time you or I might not be as lucky," Arthur said. There was a long silence as they both sat there in the silence of the motel room. Eames knew what they had to do, and so did Arthur, but neither of them were eager to voice it. "We have to separate."

"Yes, we do," Eames agreed without hesitation. "Close connections are too dangerous in this business."

"We have to wipe any history of us ever knowing each other," Arthur said and he sounded like he was reading facts from a text book.

"If anyone ever realized that we were ever close it would undo the point of separating," Eames said. "We have to make it look like we've never met."

"Never knew each other. Anyone who knew that we were together is dead," Arthur said.

"We're separating," Eames echoed and he did not make it a question.

"Yes," Arthur replied. They finally turned and looked at each other. Eames felt something twist in his stomach because Arthur was his best friend, his partner, the one person he had felt that he could trust for almost two years. They had to forget the bond they had shared ever existed because it was too dangerous. Eames understood that, Arthur did as well, because there was no point in lying to each other. "I should go. I have a lot of information I need to change."

"Take the car," the forger said. "I'll hot wire one and get out of here too." They both stood and Eames handed the car keys over. Their fingers touched and for a moment all he could think about was that it felt like someone he cared about was dying. Eames gave Arthur one of his shirts to wear and the point man pulled his jacket on. They walked to the door and Arthur turned around when he was outside.

"Eames," he said and it seemed like he was trying to think of something to say. Eames could not help him with that because he did not know what to say either. "I don't regret meeting you."

"Me neither," Eames replied with a smile because there was really nothing else to say. Arthur hesitated at the door for only a moment longer before turning and walking to the car. As soon as the car started Eames closed the door to the motel because he did not want to watch the car drive away.