ruffians | and you know me

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and you know me

[Eames doesn't know how to feel about things. He never does after this. It's... Easier than it used to be. He doesn't know why. Maybe it's just a matter of trust, but there's other issues, ones that get louder every time. Because he can't ignore that this is part of him anymore, and neither can Arthur.]

[He doesn't want to focus too much on what Arthur must think, but he can't shake it. He lays on the bed, ignoring various aches and pains, trying not to look at Arthur.]

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[Arthur sighs and gazes up at Eames, leaning his head back on the chair and cradling the coffee cup in his lap.]

I'm just worried about you. One of these fights could turn really bad and I think they could be completely avoided if we had just... talked. About why you're doing it. You know I want to help you.

[Eames shrugs a shoulder, looking past Arthur to the doorway. He can't think of a conversation he'd like to have less.]

We did talk.

Yeah and we only got as far as making both of us feel like shit.

[Arthur's eyes settle on the planet again. Perspective. Deep breath.]

I never thought it had to stop completely, I just couldn't keep watching you hate yourself afterwards, and I didn't get why you couldn't just get through that so we could try it again without all the shame.

[There's a strange lump in his throat and his voice stays far away, like he's trying to separate himself from the words and feelings.]

And you seemed so happy and settled when you got back, and when you got up too... that's what I want to make you feel. I don't think you have to risk your life to get that.

You did.

[He shrugs again, honestly not seeing the point in hashing this out again. Arthur doesn't want all the other shit, and Eames doesn't exactly blame him for it, just means he has to go back to this.]

[He shakes his head, starting to feel frustration and something else tighten in his chest.]

So why the hell would you turn over and refuse to look at me afterwards? Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?

Yeah, that's why it's this now instead.

[He shakes his head and pushes off the console to leave. Coming in here was a mistake obviously.]

I don't know why we're talking about this, I told you how I felt wasn't going to change.

Don't, don't leave.

[He turns to give Eames a pleading look.]

Please, I don't want it to be like this.

[Eames huffs and stops in place, shaking his head.]

I don't know what else I can say.

[Shaking his head, he looks back down at his coffee.]

I don't understand why you can't just try.

Do you think I haven't?

[If he didn't sound annoyed before, he does now, working his jaw in frustration.]

Arthur, I've always been like this. It's not going to suddenly change because now I'm not the only person who hates it.

You didn't seem ashamed last night.

[Arthur's starting to get worked up too, volume going up and the pace of his words a little more frantic.]

I just don't get it, if it's the same thing that makes you want it rough or to get beat up, why is it that sex with me is what makes you go fucking catatonic afterwards? I'm not uncomfortable with the sex, not if it makes you feel good, but it's like you're an entirely different person after.

I was also extremely fucking drunk last night. You probably could've pushed me off the ship and taken off and I'd have thought it was a weird joke.

[That feels like a fairly important point to him right now.]

[Arthur shakes his head, taking a deep breath.]

I just want you to let me help you.

I'm fine.

[The emphasis is emphatic, because he's always fine, obviously. It's not like he has lingering traumas from growing up in a militarised empire or suffered anything that negatively affected the way he views himself. Ridiculous.]

Go out, have a punch-up, never see them again. It works.

[Arthur's voice drops again, miserable in his chair.]

You're not invincible. If you're getting that drunk you're gonna make a mistake at some point and get in over your head. It scares me.

[That basically goes in one ear and out the other, because Eames can't conceive of a situation he can't get out of, even drunk off his ass.]

You really don't need to worry about me.

[God he's getting tired of that. Tired of Eames deciding what he can compartmentalize to be outside of what they have.]

Well, too bad, because that's what you do when you love someone.

Then what else am I supposed to do? What's your solution?

[He's definitely reaching a tone that's just shy of actively confrontational, because at this point he feels like he's done everything he can and none of it is good enough for Arthur.]

[Back up the volume goes.]

Just... let me take care of you! Tell me what you need and I'll do it, just don't shut me out!

I did. I told you everything and you didn't want to be part of it.

[He backs up a little, clearly wanting to just leave, but Eames just about stops himself.]

It's not like I blame you, but it isn't fair to have a go at me for it.

[Arthur breathes out hard through his nose and presses his mouth into a line. This should be so fucking easy.]

The shame can't be a necessary part of this, Eames, I saw that last night.

[Eames throws a hand up in frustration, it feels like they're about to start going in circles over this and he wants to be anywhere else on this fucking ship.]

Yeah, and if you were a stranger I never had to look at again then maybe it wouldn't be.

That's you putting something on me that I don't feel. I care way more about making you feel good than judging you for something you think is fucked up. We're all fucked up, Eames, and if this is what you need to do to feel normal then I want to help you.

[He realizes that he's almost yelling but he can't stop.]

What's really fucked up is that you won't even look at me, you make me feel like I've hurt you or made things worse.

I tried to tell you, it always takes a minute or two for--

[He catches himself, not just the frustration but there's some emotion there he's not happy about. He has to take a breath, and when he goes on his voice is a lot quieter, softer. Eyes downcast.]

It takes a bit for me to be sure you're not going to leave.

[That change in demeanour certainly makes Arthur slow down, taking a deep breath before he goes on, very measured. He knows it must be complicated, whatever goes on in Eames' head whenever they've done that, whenever he goes quiet afterwards, but more and more Arthur just felt intentionally, consciously shut out of the process.]

What can I do to make you more sure of that? And don't-- [he cuts himself off to breath, to take his tone down from demanding to pleading] Don't say nothing. Please, think about it. I want you to know I'm not going to abandon you; I love you too much.

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