maybe we show some mercy

[falsify]

[Usually, facing your fears means discovering they're not as bad as they seemed in your head. That your mind catastrophises and exaggerates and the reality is nowhere near what it seemed. Eames certainly wishes that were the case here, but it turns out the reality is far worse than anything that crossed his mind. He'd long since come to terms with the idea that getting caught meant death, but the captain of this discreet little crew made a point of talking about "re-education" with such conviction that it seems like a very real possibility. A real possibility that terrifies Eames in ways he didn't even know he could feel.]

[It's hard not to be mad at himself, and in fact he is. He's fucking furious. Years of being meticulous about hiding from the Empire rendered obsolete because some asshole wanted to make some quick money and Eames hadn't spotted the signs even though that's exactly the kind of thing he's supposed to be good at. And now here he is, bound in a cell on a ship, no idea how long he's been here or where they are — no idea about much of anything outside this room, actually — pumped full of power inhibitors to make doubly sure he can't escape.]

[Fucking hell but it hurts. Hands cuffed behind his back, made to stay on his knees for... A long time. Simultaneously can't feel his legs and yet the muscles burn and ache. All of him a mess of cuts and bruises, a mix of injuries from fighting back and some from cruelty passed off as discipline. He thinks his nose might be broken and one of his eyes is swollen into a semi-permanant squint. The longer he kneels here, the more Eames thinks the inhibitor injections were less about preventing escape and more about making sure he couldn't heal away the beatings; making sure he'd suffer through every moment of the trip "home."]

Comments

[specifiercity]

[He feels a pang of sympathy and guilt, shaking his head and looking at the ground. His tone is significantly softer when he speaks again.]

I'm not offering help because I think you need it. I just want to help with the pain.

[falsify]

[He steps a little closer to Arthur, head bowed and voice hesitant as he debates saying what he's about to.]

You know you're the only person I've ever been able to trust.

[There's a small smile at the corner of his mouth when he looks up to meet Arthur's eyes. Trying to make it all a little less tense.]

It's why I'm trying not to fight you on this-- because I trust you.

[specifiercity]

[Being the only person Eames can trust feels like it should weigh him down unimaginably, but Arthur feels the same way. He meets Eames’ eyes and gives him a little nod.]

Still, if you want to do things by yourself - just tell me. I get it.

[falsify]

Yeah.

[Eames sighs softly and pushes his pants off his hips to get out of them without any of the aforementioned help.]

Right now I need you to wash my back.

[specifiercity]

Okay.

[He pushes his underwear down and steps back for Eames to step into the shower stall, getting a washcloth to take with him.]

[falsify]

[Eames does the same and steps under the water, letting out a sigh of pleasure at the feel of it on his skin. Juet standing there for a moment to enjoy it before taking the soap to start cleaning his front.]

[It's strange when he looks down and sees all the green running off him, dried blood mostly though it wouldn't surprise him if some was fresh. It's not a lot, but enough that for a moment he's not sure what he's looking at-- he's been bleeding red for so long now... Eames sort of just stares at it going down the drains, mesmerized by something totally unfamiliar at this point.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur starts right away on Eames’ back, just gently wiping away the blood for now. He looks down at the green mess running into the drain and hums.]

I guess I never really thought about the fact that you changed the colour of your blood.

[falsify]

[Eames laughs uncomfortably and nods.]

Yeah, well. Makes sense, right?

[specifiercity]

I guess so.

[Arthur doesn't sound fully convinced but he doesn't want to push the matter either, so it comes out fairly neutral in tone as he gently brushes the washcloth over Eames' skin.]

[falsify]

[Eames hums softly and lets his head hang. Arthur's hands feel good and he tries to focus in on that instead of the various aches all over his body.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur moves the washcloth over Eames' back and down his arms as well, just letting himself go about this mindlessly.]

[falsify]

[Eames turns slowly to face Arthur and lifts his hands to cup his face, intending to be affectionate and maybe kiss him, but he catches sight of his hands against Arthur's skin and flinches away. Somehow he wasn't fully aware he still looked like this until now and he... He doesn't like it. Suddenly aware it's something he never wanted Arthur to see and now he's stuck like this.]

[Suddenly he doesn't know what to do with himself, frozen with his gaze fixed on his hands.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur frowns but waits a couple seconds to see if it's a momentary thing. When Eames doesn't snap out of it he reaches out to lightly rest his hand on Eames' waist.]

Hey, is everything okay?

[falsify]

[The awareness of what he looks like right now has him shrinking away from Arthur's touch without thinking about it, even as it shakes him out of his trance.]

Yeah, of course.

[He tries for a reassuring smile.]

[specifiercity]

Eames.

[He still doesn't want to push but it is worrying to see Eames so distraught.]

[falsify]

It's fine.

[He keeps the smile on his face and goes to put a hand on his chest, hesitant for a moment before he lets himself actually touch him.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur puts his hand over Eames' hand, not entirely sure what to say. That he doesn't mind the green? Arthur's pretty sure that's not really the point, that Eames seeing himself like this brings up a lot more than just vanity issues. He knows Eames just wants things to go back to normal - Arthur himself would kill a hundred more skrulls if it meant they could erase the whole thing, but they can't and they're here now and they need each other, green skin or not.]

[He takes half a step into Eames' space, slipping his other hand around to Eames' lower back lightly, angling to go in for a kiss but waiting, letting Eames close the gap if he feels comfortable.]

[falsify]

[God, he wants to. He tilts his head to meet Arthur for that kiss, but something in him just won't close the distance. Eames closes his eyes, eyebrows pulled together almost as if it's physically painful not to kiss Arthur.]

[He curses under his breath and murmurs Arthur's name like a plea for help. Because he needs this and he needs him but he can't do it. Not like this.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur doesn't do it for him, but he does let out a soft sigh almost like disappointment when Eames doesn't, frowning in sympathy.]

Eames.

[He brings both hands up to Eames' jaw, brushing his thumbs along his cheeks firmly but affectionately. His tone drops to match.]

I know this isn't what you want to be right now. If you need to wait until you can shift again, that's fine, but I want you to know that I don't think of you differently because of this. I know this isn't you.

[falsify]

[He bites his lip on the pain when Arthur's thumbs brush over the swelling around his eye, sighing through his nose. It's not as reassuring as Arthur wants it to be, because the problem is that this is what he is.]

It is me though, isn't it?

[Eames shakes his head. He almost looks like he could cry, but he doesn't, just looks back at Arthur in a frown.]

Green skin and pointy fucking ears, that's me.

[specifiercity]

[Arthur shakes his head.]

I don't see it that way. You are what you choose to be, and you've chosen to be something different all this time. That doesn't change just because they shot you up with something that takes away your powers.

[falsify]

[He wishes he could articulate what exactly is going on in his head, because it's not being a skrull, not exactly. It's what that means. He only started changing how he looked to get away from the empire, both literally and to avoid that baggage, and the longer it went on the more free he felt. But that's a lot to explain when he's anxious and angry and only just discovering that he feels this way. It's not as if there's a simple way to say "it turns out my sense of self is entirely contingent on divorcing myself from everything I knew until a relatively short time ago because I hate everything I was up until then," when you're still figuring that out.]

Yeah.

[His shoulders sag weakly, and he nods, backing up to get out of the shower. He doesn't know what he needs right now, but he also doesn't think he's going to find it here.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur reluctantly lets him go with a sigh.]

I’ll be out soon. Just need to freshen up.

[falsify]

[Eames makes a noise to indicate he understands as he leaves and picks up a towel as he goes. Carefully he picks up his clothes on his way out and they get shoved haphazardly into the garbage.]

[By the time Arthur comes out, Eames is back in bed in some underwear it took him longer to put on than he'd readily admit, staring at the ceiling in some effort to not think about anything.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur rushes through his shower, just enough to make sure he smells clean when he goes to find Eames in bed. He’s put on some underwear and a shirt and he wanders right up to the bed and takes Eames’ hand.]

Can I lay down with you?