ruffians | maybe we show some mercy

Do I have a choice.

[If he wants to get off this ship he doesn't, and in this moment there isn't much Eames wants more than to be on his own ship. If it comes down to it, he surrendered for Arthur's sake once, he'll do it again, but it sure would be nice if they both made it home.]

[It's why he's forcing down the panic and gritting his teeth through the pain, reaching for Arthur with a hand and holding himself up with the other.]

You're going to have to help me. I've been on my knees for... Since they brought me here.

Okay.

[If Arthur sounds and looks like he's recalculating, it's because he is, but he quickly slips an arm around Eames' back, tucking himself under Eames' shoulder to hold him up. The gun he's using can be wielded with one hand, but he still stops to consider whether he should switch out to the pistol for some ease of movement.]

[An alarm suddenly goes off, signalling that word of Arthur's break-in has finally reached and been verified by the ship's command. It catches his attention but doesn't change his disposition at all.]

I already broke all the locks between here and the ship. It's a straight shot. Come on.

[He starts to move, careful not to push Eames too fast.]

[Eames slips an arm around Arthur's shoulders to put some of his weight on him. He desperately doesn't want to slow them down, but his legs feel like dead weight and every movement sends shocks of pain through his body.]

[But if he's slowing them down, he can at least be useful. Eames looks up at one of the alarms and then at Arthur.]

Give me your pistol.

[Arthur hastily gets the pistol back out from its holster at his belt and hands it to Eames, resuming his position supporting him as he tries to get going again, looking up and down the halls with something that falls just short of being panic.]

[His hands are shaky from being bound for so long, and he's pretty much only got one eye right now, but a lifetime of military training helps him compensate for everything that's wrong with him right now.]

[Either that or it's dumb luck that has Eames shoot the first guy that comes around the corner behind them in the face. Regardless, Eames tries to keep looking around them so Arthur can focus on moving forward.]

It's a small crew, they wouldn't waste more people than necessary on a prisoner transport.

[So hopefully they shouldn't have much of a problem getting out of here. Especially with Arthur taking out security on his way, all anyone knows for sure is a Terran was in the detention centre.]

[The way back is much quicker even with Eames slowing him down, and they finally turn the corner into the hallway toward the airlock that Arthur broke in through. Their ship is helpfully attached to the outside of the Skrull vessel with some modified mining equipment like a very large tick - it'll only release its hold on the busted airlock door if it's controlled from the cockpit and Arthur's managed to rig it to be an airtight doorway into their hull, locked on both sides via voice command.]

[It took a lot of modifying to get this plan over 50% certainty of success. At this point adrenaline is the only thing keeping Arthur's eyes open. It's also the only thing that keeps his gun somewhat stable as he starts shooting the guards already trying to pry off the the huge mining claws designed to dig into solid metal asteroids.]

[And here he was hoping the rest of the crew would be running around the ship confused and they could escape into space with no problems, but obviously that's asking for too much. Still, Eames follows suit, shots slow but accurate for it. He'd be impressed bu Arthur's ingenuity if he could really take it in, but right now all he's aware of is the soldiers between him and his ship.]

[When they finally make it to the airlock, Arthur shouts some nonsense (Lake Michigan) and the door into their hull opens. He starts to push Eames through and turns around to cover them.]

Get up to the cabin if you can - we're ready to make an NLS jump as soon as I make it back up to the deck and detach this thing.

[It's slow going, but Eames makes it up and practically throws himself into the cockpit. Almost falling on the console when he tries to get into the seat, leaving a nice smear of green blood all over everything in the process as he rushes to boot up the weapons array.]

[Arthur follows Eames through as soon as he's clear, shouting his voice command to get the door to close again and getting to the cockpit just after Eames. He sees what Eames is doing just as he hits the button to start the mining equipment's detaching process and slips back into the captain's chair.]

We don't need those.

[He starts flipping switches to get the engine engaged again. He doesn't want to brag but he has this down to less than a minute, the most time consuming part of which he begins now; an agonizing fifteen second search for the clearest route out of here back to a system they'll be hard to track back to.]

I'll feel better with the weapons on, just in case.

[Even if it's taking just about everything he's got to focus on this instead of just passing the fuck out. They have pretty much the most advanced weapons you can put on a ship this size, and right now knowing he's got that at his fingertips is doing wonders for keeping Eames from giving in to the panic sitting in his chest.]

[Arthur glances that way as if to assess how Eames is actually doing, but he has to look back to finally find a route a route, setting up the ship to automatically reorient itself as soon as the mining equipment is stowed.]

Strap in, we've got about twenty seconds.

[Eames does as he's told, buckling up and reclining in the chair with a deep frown on his face. He should probably be laying down instead of here, the pain is making that abundantly clear, but he's here now so he's just going to have to sit through it.]

[Arthur watches their security systems closely, but as he suspected the broken airlock has prevented anyone from trying to get in the same way he and Eames did and it takes a little while for their ship's defense systems to activate, much less find a smaller, still cloaked ship so close to the surface.]

[He counts down the seconds before they go and then they go, reaching near light speed far quicker than a Skrull transport ship has any business being able to follow or track, probably melting off a significant part of the hull behind them. The journey's set to be about an hour, and once they're underway the ship's steady enough to undo seatbelts, so that's what Arthur does, practically leaping out of his chair to help Eames get out of his.]

Do you think they put a tracker on you? We'll need to ditch it and move again if they did.

[He's already patting down Eames' clothes for anything they could have put on him, and then he wraps an arm around him with every intention of getting him to their main cabin where he can lay down on a bunk and Arthur can look at his wounds.]

I don't know-- Probably not. It's not like they expected me to try and escape.

[He grimaces with the jostling, and then Arthur's getting him out of the seat and Eames doesn't have the energy to protest so he just goes with it all.]

[Arthur gets him to a flat surfaces and tries to lay him down, turning away immediately to pick up a small tool that'll cut through the handcuffs and get them off, stopping just to get a damp cloth so he can start washing away some of this blood as well. He's not planning on slowing down to stop any time soon, not until Eames is at least looking better than he is right now.]

[He didn't have the energy to protest, but that changes when Arthur starts cleaning him up. Especially when his cloth passes over a cut and Eames hisses in pain, immediately trying to push Arthur's hands away. He's fine this is just a temporary problem.]

Eames, let me do this.

[His voice is a little bit on the panicky side, going right back in with the cloth to keep cleaning Eames' face.]

[He keeps flinching away from Arthur, groaning weakly in protest.]

I'm fine, I just need to sleep.

You look awful.

[This is delivered as if it's meant to be some sort of justification for him to continue.]

They injected me with power inhibitors. I can't shift.

[It sucks.]

That's not what I'm talking about.

[He does relent with the towel, and for some reason that's what makes his whole body slow down and he looks away from Eames face to manage the sudden lump in his throat. This is happy, or it should be - he pictured this reunion as overwhelmingly positive but there's still so much to deal with. Eames has been through so much and Arthur's put himself thorugh hell to get him back and it fucking sucks and there are so many emotions happening at once right now that Arthur didn't want to deal with.]

I can't heal if I can't shapeshift.

[He watches Arthur, frowning. He just wants to be fine, to kiss Arthur and thank him and go back to how it was before this.]

[Instead he flinches and curses under his breath when he moves the wrong way and sends a sharp pain up his side.]

Right and you'll get infected or something, I--

[There's a wobble in his voice an dhe has to cut himself off before he says anymore and betrays too much of how he's feeling. Sitting still here has really brought it all to a screeching halt and he looks down at his hands where he's worrying the wet cloth.]

[He looks at Arthur for a long moment, wondering what's best to do. He can't express how much he hates this, hates being taken care of like this, hates feeling weak this way. But carefully he reaches for Arthur's hand to bring the cloth back to his face, jaw clenched in an attempt not to complain or make any pained noises.]

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