I didn't realise how short this chapter was. Oh well; here you go: Chapter 21, Eames (13) :)

Eames (13)

10:34 pm

He landed with an undignified grunt on his backside. A whisper of ragged breath in the corner caught his ear, and he whipped round to see a more familiar looking man, tangled in white sheets.

"Arthur!" Eames whispered harshly, scrambling to his feet. They rubbed against the cold, rough concrete that was littered with sand. Sand that, when Eames caught the Point Man's face in his hands, coated his cheeks. Arthur's eyes were so similar to the New Arthur's that Eames almost dropped his hands in immediate distrust. But there was something else in them, something more human. The regret that stared back at him pulled his heart into his throat.

"Arthur, I didn't mean to leave." He said, in a low voice. Arthur rocked backwards and forwards slightly, shocking white fingers curled around his knees.

"You fucking flirt, with your pet names and shit, you were just trying to get me into your bed. Well you know what? Look, it worked...Too well." Arthur said quietly, through clenched teeth. Both men leant forward into each other; Eames wrapped his fingers around the back of the Point Man's neck, Arthur reached and dug his nails into the Forger's shoulders. Eames could feel his throat constricting as he stared into chocolate brown eyes, fuelled with pain and hate because of him.

"Arthur I came to help"-

"You want to know something, you did help. After Ari came, I thought I was dreaming. Why would I have iced coffee in my fridge? Why the fuck am I on a beach? Why is my fucking hand bleeding? Why did you show up last night when I needed it? I thought my totem was lying, but it was telling the truth the whole time. You. You come here, expecting me to just be one of those other pieces of trash you use. This is fucking reality, and you fucking proved it. Thank you, Eames."

A sudden shove sent Eames flying: Arthur was surprisingly strong.

He put his hands on his face, over his eyes. What have I done... I'm meant to be trying to convince him to leave this dream world… what else can I – his eyes widened. Death.

"Arthur you're wrong. Your totem doesn't work because you're in your own dream. You were hurt because the real reality is bleeding through. You were shot." He put his hands up protectively, looking ashamedly away from Arthur. He couldn't bear to see the hurt anymore.

"Darling… I left because I woke up."

"NO." A primal shriek ripped from Arthur's body as he stood, still wrapped in his sheet, trembling. "THIS ISN'T A FUCKING DREAM, EAMES. THIS is reality. YOU are real. THE HURT is real. And I KNOW this is real because this, Eames, this is what you do to people. You FUCK them and then LEAVE them."

Angry tears streamed down Eames' face. Angry at himself, because he knew that was what he did, but also anger at Arthur because this time, it wasn't like that.

The metal barrel of his gun pressed uncomfortably against the small of his back. He reached behind him to retrieve it. Arthur stepped backwards, his sheet trailing behind him.

"Eames – what are you doing…" he hissed, and the Forger noted the fear coating his voice. Sometimes it didn't help being a forger – all those tiny details, those emotions. He saw them all. Another sob cracked in his chest as he realised that Arthur – poor, beautiful, traumatised Arthur – thought the man he loved was about to shoot him.

Swallowing audibly, Eames swivelled the gun in his hand and pushed the cold metal against his temple. He closed his eyes.

"…Eames…"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his tattered totem, rubbing the small craters with his thumb. Arthur stumbled towards him, hand outstretched.

"…Eames I…"

"I came back for you. I love you."

As he flicked the red chip into the air, Eames felt cold arms envelop him.

"EAMES I CAN'T LOSE" –

"You have to believe, darling. See you soon."

Plastic clattered against concrete. He squeezed the trigger.

Dun dun DUUUUUUUUUUUUUN! Hope you enjoyed reading :)