"It could be worse." Eames sounds always cheerful about it and Arthur wants to shoot him for a minute there.
"Really?" Arthur shifts so that he can put more pressure on the bullet wound now adorning his thigh. He winces, but manages to stay silent other than a heavy exhalation.
They're trapped in a bathroom in the back of some business that shares an alley with the restaurant where they'd been expecting a business meeting. Obviously things hadn't gone as expected, because most of Arthur's business meetings don't end in him getting shot. It had been so close, too. He could be bleeding out on the ugly tiles right now if they'd been a few inches more accurate, because he knows that they'd been aiming to kill. To Eames's credit, he'd had his own gun out before Arthur had and Arthur is pretty sure he'd be dead now if he'd come here by himself. Eames had been the one to notice that something had been off.
Eames has his ear to the door, trying to figure out if the men are still nearby. He'd thrown open the back door before shuffling Arthur into next door over where they'd found the cramped little bathroom. There had really been no way they could've outrun those men with Arthur's leg and Eames wasn't going to leave him behind. He might've left others behind, but not Arthur. He'll probably feel foolish for that later--well, no, he'll probably be dead for it later--but at least for now he isn't running free and leaving Arthur to die like a dog.
"That's your problem, Arthur; you're such a pessimist." Eames grins down at him and moves away from the door to offer Arthur a hand. "I think they're gone. Can you make it to the car?"
Arthur looks skeptical, but he takes the offered hand and pulls himself up with Eames's help. "Not much of a choice, is there?"
Eames unlocks the door with a slow, careful precision that reminds Arthur of a surgeon. He knows that the thing about Eames is that he's only loud when he wants to be, but that thought is dropped quickly when Eames turns back to him and they're so close in the tiny space that he can feel Eames's breath on his skin. For the barest second, Arthur swears he can see Eames's eyes drift down to his lips, but then Eames just brings his finger up to his own lips and then opens the door.
Stepping out with quiet footsteps towards the door to the alley, Eames closes it with the same precision. If the men are still nearby, they can't get in this way now and it gives Eames the cover to help Arthur out the front of what turns out to be a hairdresser's shopfront.
It's not until he's got Arthur safely in the passenger seat of the car and they're driving away that he turns down the radio.
"Is it just me or were you going to kiss me back there?"
Arthur doesn't answer, but he tells himself that the lack of a withering look is because of the pain and not being Eames is onto something.
"You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you." Kate shakes Richie's arm, but he hasn't answered since she found him like this. "Richie, come on!"
The thing is they're in the middle of the desert and if he doesn't wake up and get moving soon, the sun is going to come up and he's going to burn.
She's still not sure where the men had come from, but they'd grabbed all three of them shortly after she and Seth had reunited with Richie. Someone owes someone money and that's all she can really be sure of, but she can't tell if it's Seth or Richie that the men were really punishing when they dumped the two of them out here. They still have Seth and they can't possibly know what Richie is, but there's a clear expectation that she and Richie aren't expected to come back from this trip.
"I almost lost you." She whispers the words into his skin and he wonders if it's even possible to be lost when you're so thoroughly found.
He can't remember the last time he felt like someone might actually stay. Maybe he's never felt this way and maybe it's just the alcohol and adrenaline, but it feels so good. He feels cared for in a way he's never been and even with his vomit-soaked shirt against his skin, he knows that there's an angel looking over him.
"It's not your time yet. You have two more years." She tells him and he remembers their deal. He wants to tell her to stay, because he's sick of waiting alone, but she's already gone.
Fergus closes his eyes and dreams of a devil in angel's clothing.
Crowley's trying to pull answers from a particularly stubborn werewolf when he hears Sam's voice at the door. At first, he thinks to scold Sam for wandering where he's asked the boy not to, but he thinks better of it. A curious mind is a healthy mind and he doesn't want to discourage his boys from being smart.
"Come here, sweetheart." He wipes his hands on his apron and beckons Sam closer. "The most important thing you can learn are what parts of the body are most sensitive and what you can do to them to bend, but not break.
Sam moves into the room with a sense of cautious excitement.
"Pick up that knife and come look at the bottom of his foot."
"No one needs to know." The words spill from Crowley's lips without thought and even with his back turned, he can picture the set of Blake's lips in a perfect frown.
"Gotta be kiddin' me. That's what you're worried about?" Blake sounds incredulous, but more resigned than truly angry. "Crowley, you got a problem."
"Do I?" He knows that Blake is right, but he's not sure what the problem is here. Is it that he's addicted to the blood? Is it that the idea disgusts Blake? Or is it simply that he can't feel as much without it?
Blake turns around then, finally locks eyes with Crowley. "Yes! Can't even see what a--what a mess you are."
Crowley pushes himself up from where he's perched on the edge of his bed. He moves closer until he can reach Blake and he reaches for his hand then.
"The Winchesters know how to heal me." It's the blood. He knows it's the blood, because he'd just taken a hit right before Blake had walked in.
Blake's hand is stiff under Crowley's, but he doesn't pull it back. "Think you're still gonna want that in the morning?"
"I don't know what I want, darling. I'm telling you so that you can decide." And there it is. All of his cards on the table, like they so often are for Blake these days. He wants to be healed until he doesn't and he's not really sure what's even for the best anymore, but Blake knows. He has to. "You’re the only one I trust to do this."
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keepcruising2015-03-03 06:01 pm
Arthur/Eames
"Really?" Arthur shifts so that he can put more pressure on the bullet wound now adorning his thigh. He winces, but manages to stay silent other than a heavy exhalation.
They're trapped in a bathroom in the back of some business that shares an alley with the restaurant where they'd been expecting a business meeting. Obviously things hadn't gone as expected, because most of Arthur's business meetings don't end in him getting shot. It had been so close, too. He could be bleeding out on the ugly tiles right now if they'd been a few inches more accurate, because he knows that they'd been aiming to kill. To Eames's credit, he'd had his own gun out before Arthur had and Arthur is pretty sure he'd be dead now if he'd come here by himself. Eames had been the one to notice that something had been off.
Eames has his ear to the door, trying to figure out if the men are still nearby. He'd thrown open the back door before shuffling Arthur into next door over where they'd found the cramped little bathroom. There had really been no way they could've outrun those men with Arthur's leg and Eames wasn't going to leave him behind. He might've left others behind, but not Arthur. He'll probably feel foolish for that later--well, no, he'll probably be dead for it later--but at least for now he isn't running free and leaving Arthur to die like a dog.
"That's your problem, Arthur; you're such a pessimist." Eames grins down at him and moves away from the door to offer Arthur a hand. "I think they're gone. Can you make it to the car?"
Arthur looks skeptical, but he takes the offered hand and pulls himself up with Eames's help. "Not much of a choice, is there?"
Eames unlocks the door with a slow, careful precision that reminds Arthur of a surgeon. He knows that the thing about Eames is that he's only loud when he wants to be, but that thought is dropped quickly when Eames turns back to him and they're so close in the tiny space that he can feel Eames's breath on his skin. For the barest second, Arthur swears he can see Eames's eyes drift down to his lips, but then Eames just brings his finger up to his own lips and then opens the door.
Stepping out with quiet footsteps towards the door to the alley, Eames closes it with the same precision. If the men are still nearby, they can't get in this way now and it gives Eames the cover to help Arthur out the front of what turns out to be a hairdresser's shopfront.
It's not until he's got Arthur safely in the passenger seat of the car and they're driving away that he turns down the radio.
"Is it just me or were you going to kiss me back there?"
Arthur doesn't answer, but he tells himself that the lack of a withering look is because of the pain and not being Eames is onto something.
Kate/Richie
The thing is they're in the middle of the desert and if he doesn't wake up and get moving soon, the sun is going to come up and he's going to burn.
She's still not sure where the men had come from, but they'd grabbed all three of them shortly after she and Seth had reunited with Richie. Someone owes someone money and that's all she can really be sure of, but she can't tell if it's Seth or Richie that the men were really punishing when they dumped the two of them out here. They still have Seth and they can't possibly know what Richie is, but there's a clear expectation that she and Richie aren't expected to come back from this trip.
"Richie! Come on. Seth needs us."
He opens his eyes.
no subject
He can't remember the last time he felt like someone might actually stay. Maybe he's never felt this way and maybe it's just the alcohol and adrenaline, but it feels so good. He feels cared for in a way he's never been and even with his vomit-soaked shirt against his skin, he knows that there's an angel looking over him.
"It's not your time yet. You have two more years." She tells him and he remembers their deal. He wants to tell her to stay, because he's sick of waiting alone, but she's already gone.
Fergus closes his eyes and dreams of a devil in angel's clothing.
Crowley & Sam Yao
Crowley's trying to pull answers from a particularly stubborn werewolf when he hears Sam's voice at the door. At first, he thinks to scold Sam for wandering where he's asked the boy not to, but he thinks better of it. A curious mind is a healthy mind and he doesn't want to discourage his boys from being smart.
"Come here, sweetheart." He wipes his hands on his apron and beckons Sam closer. "The most important thing you can learn are what parts of the body are most sensitive and what you can do to them to bend, but not break.
Sam moves into the room with a sense of cautious excitement.
"Pick up that knife and come look at the bottom of his foot."
This would be a good lesson.
Crowley/Blake darkest timeline
"Gotta be kiddin' me. That's what you're worried about?" Blake sounds incredulous, but more resigned than truly angry. "Crowley, you got a problem."
"Do I?" He knows that Blake is right, but he's not sure what the problem is here. Is it that he's addicted to the blood? Is it that the idea disgusts Blake? Or is it simply that he can't feel as much without it?
Blake turns around then, finally locks eyes with Crowley. "Yes! Can't even see what a--what a mess you are."
Crowley pushes himself up from where he's perched on the edge of his bed. He moves closer until he can reach Blake and he reaches for his hand then.
"The Winchesters know how to heal me." It's the blood. He knows it's the blood, because he'd just taken a hit right before Blake had walked in.
Blake's hand is stiff under Crowley's, but he doesn't pull it back. "Think you're still gonna want that in the morning?"
"I don't know what I want, darling. I'm telling you so that you can decide." And there it is. All of his cards on the table, like they so often are for Blake these days. He wants to be healed until he doesn't and he's not really sure what's even for the best anymore, but Blake knows. He has to. "You’re the only one I trust to do this."