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

[falsify]

[Eames hasn't even bother to get undressed or anything, he's just crawled into the bed, curled up on his side, and immediately fallen asleep.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur gets down to a t-shirt and underwear for comfort's sake, slipping into bed and pressing himself to Eames' back, arm around his waist, trying not to jostle too much. As important as it is to keep an eye out for the Empire, Arthur has determined that the chances of them being spotted are low enough that Eames can get priority.]

[falsify]

[Arthur's presence is a comfort that Eames responds easily to in his sleep. He curls up a little smaller and presses his back to Arthur's chest to try and get as many points of contact between them as possible. It won't stop the dreams, but for now before he's in a deep sleep it feels good, safe.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur gives the back of Eames' head a soft kiss before he sighs and lays his head down to sleep. It'll be a light nap but that's better anyway; if Eames starts thrashing around because of a nightmare he'll need to react quickly.]

[falsify]

[It doesn't take a long time before he's obviously having a nightmare again, body tense and the occasional murmur of some protest before it really gets its hooks in and he's writhing slightly, worming out of Arthur's grip.]

[specifiercity]

[It takes Arthur a minute or two to wake up, but when he does he immediately pushes himself up on an elbow and puts his hand on Eames' shoulder, shaking him very gently and murmuring his name to try and get him to wake up.]

[falsify]

[He doesn't shout or lash out, but there's an obvious panic when Eames finally wakes up. His whole body tenses up and Eames' eyes snap open, darting around to take in what he can of the room and figure out where he is. He's like a cornered animal trying to figure out how to escape, not at all moving but clearly ready to launch himself out of bed if he has to.]

[specifiercity]

It's okay, I'm here.

[Arthur puts his hand on Eames' chest, trying to strike a balance between a calming weight and making sure he doesn't feel restrained.]

[falsify]

[It's slow. He's so low on sleep these days that it takes a bit for his mind to catch up and tell him he's fine. He's on the ship with Arthur and he's okay. When it does kick in, Eames curses softly and rolls onto his back, breath short as he presses his palms against his face in tiredness and frustration.]

[He's so sick of this.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur frowns and sighs, rubbing his hand back and forth now.]

Well, at least you got a little bit of sleep.

[falsify]

Yeah.

[He pushes his hands through his hair and sighs heavily.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur withdraws, looking around the room as he considers their situation.]

Is there anything I can do about this? There's got to be someone you can see or... I don't know, some drug you can take so you can at least get some rest.

[falsify]

I don't know.

[And even if he did, that all sounds awful to him. Like admitting weakness. He's fine, this is fine.]

It's fine, they'll go away soon.

[specifiercity]

[Arthur clenches his jaw, catching himself before he says out right that they won't or that Eames is being proud. He sighs as he tries to choose his words a little better.]

I don't know, I don't think they've gotten that much better...

[falsify]

I think they're less frequent.

[Probably because he's sleeping less too.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur rubs his eyes with one hand and sighs yet again, wondering for a moment if there's anything he could say to get Eames not to be so bull-headed about this, but he decides that there isn't. He sits up, feet slipping off the bed.]

I'm gonna go check everything's okay.

[falsify]

Okay.

[Eames stays where he is, contemplating trying to get a bit more sleep without Arthur here.]

[specifiercity]

[ARthur throws himself down in the captain's chair with a huff, thoroughly unhappy with the fact that Eames will neither help himself nor let Arthur help him. He knows there's no quick cure for this kind of trauma but there has to be something that can start the healing process, even if Arthur doesn't know exactly what that is yet. For no he's just going to wait Eames out, putting all his attention toward the ship and its progress toward their next destination.]

[falsify]

[Eames eventually does go back to sleep. It's not good, it's fitful and uncomfortable and his face is constantly twisted in distress, but at least he's not bothering anyone.]

[specifiercity]

[Arthur just waits, eventually finishing his calculations for their resupply needs and sending a transmission ahead of them to make sure it's ready to load up when they arrive. He's pretty determined not to bother Eames until he absolutely needs to.]

[falsify]

[Eventually Eames emerges, significantly more rested and entirely unwilling to talk about it. He puts a hand on the back of Arthur's chair when he comes up abd leans on it like everything's fine.]

How are we doing?

[specifiercity]

Good so far.

[As in there has been no sign of the Empire.]

[falsify]

Good.

[He knows the only ones who might chase them down were left in that ship, but it's still a relief every time.]

How long until we make the station?

[specifiercity]

Forty minutes, give or take.

[He glances at another monitor.]

I sent an order ahead so they'll have it ready.

[falsify]

[Eames nods and puts a hand on Arthur's shoulder.]

Anything you need me to do?