Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy this latest fanfic.

A Picture's Worth

Eames sat on the hard bench and stared down at his hands. Hands that were stained with Arthur's blood. And while he knew in some still rational part of his mind that he should get up and clean them, he couldn't seem to transmit that message to the rest of his brain. The nurse had told him to wait here for news and here he would sit until she came back or someone else brought him to wherever Arthur had been taken.

It was really so bloody ironic when he thought about it. That they were both here. They'd just finished the most difficult and dangerous job of their careers, had actually successfully completed an inception of another person's mind without permanent damage done to anyone, and not three blocks from the fucking airport some son of a bitch had run a fucking red light and smashed into the taxi directly behind his.

The taxi Arthur had gotten into.

He'd seen Arthur hurt in dreams of course. He'd seen the man dead for that matter. He'd thought that he'd long ago built up the fortitude to deal with that without losing his focus or revealing to anyone just how deeply his feelings for the other man ran.

But he'd never see Arthur seriously hurt in reality.

So while in his head he knew that the EMTs had told him that Arthur would be fine, that he was stable and probably wouldn't even need surgery, Eames could barely stop himself from breaking down like a child or tearing the hospital apart until he found Arthur so that he could hold the man close to him and listen to that strong heartbeat, feel the warmth of his former lover's skin against his own.

Hell, at this point he'd give his entire take from the Fischer job to hear the prissy bastard tell him that there was no reason for him to hang around and that it would be a cold day in hell before he'd need anyone to take care of him, much less him.

So much for taking the Fischer job so that he could prove to himself and Arthur that he'd gotten over being dumped, Eames thought with serious self deprecation.

As Arthur had pointed out numerous times over the past few weeks he'd acted like a damn kid, deliberately trying to get a rise, no pun intended, out of the point man every chance he got. But he hadn't been able to stop himself every time, needing to behave that way to keep their interactions from taking a more emotional slant. Not that Arthur had ever seen him as anything but a handy lay when they were working together. No, the caring…the love…had been completely one sided. The man had made that perfectly clear when he'd casually informed him at the start of their last job together before Fischer that he was seeing someone and wasn't interested in sharing a bedroom as per usual.

The bastard.

Because while they might have started sleeping together as a way of blowing off steam and relaxing after work when they were teamed up, it had damn well become more than that. Hell, he'd lost track of how many highly lucrative jobs he'd turned down so that he could be available to team up with his lover and Cobb. Arthur had known it too, the smug prick.

"Mr. Eames?"

Lifting his head Eames blinked as he stared up at the nurse, not really seeing her as he struggled to focus. "Pardon?"

"Are you Mr. Eames?"

When he nodded the nurse smiled at him. "Hello. Mr. Gordon asked me to check to see if you were still waiting. He said that you're the worrying type and he wanted to let you know that he was conscious and lucid. So far it looks like the head wound is the worst of it, he's fighting a nasty headache at the moment that has him using some pretty big, descriptive words. He asked me to ask you if you'd seen about retrieving his luggage from the trunk of the cab he was in?"

"You can tell the clothes snob that the car behind him insured that nothing in that trunk is going to be remotely salvageable." What Arthur was really worried about of course was the tools of their trade being discovered, but that wasn't going to be an issue given the damage. And even if that were the case the man had everything locked down and it wasn't likely the guarda would crack it open just to appease their curiosity.

The nurse smiled in amusement. "Yes, he was quite…displeased at the state of his clothing when he regained consciousness. He was relieved to hear you had his jacket and identification though. Anyway, I better get back, he shouldn't be more than an hour by the way. The doctors were talking about keeping him overnight but unless they uncover something worse than the head wound Mr. Gordon's made it clear he isn't staying."

"Does he need to stay?" If he had to he was perfectly capable of making the smaller man stay right where he was. In the mood he was in Arthur would know better than to mess with him.

The nurse studied him for a moment. "Are you going to take care of him and make sure he follows the doctor's orders when he leaves here?"

"Yes."

"Then I think it will be okay for him to go home with you."

Nodding his head Eames asked if there was any paperwork he could do so that they could leave quicker, figuring that since he had the man's wallet he might as well distract himself by giving them the necessary info that hospitals seemed to take evil delight in heaping on everyone that entered their domain. Arthur would be carrying identification for his present alias, so that wouldn't be a problem either.

Obviously picking up on the fact that he needed to do something the nurse left and came back fifteen minutes later, giving him a clipboard full of forms for him to fill out for Arthur.

Retrieving the other man's wallet Eames pulled out Arthur's current driver's license, transferring that information to the various forms in careful print since it would stretch out the task. In turn he used the various cards and pieces of info tucked away in their appropriate places to fill out the other blanks, thankfully that he knew the man's medical history pretty well from sneaking peeks at the information Yusuf had gathered on each of them. And of course he knew his man's allergies and such, not that that really mattered at this point.

All in all the tiresome paperwork would just need to be signed off on and then they'd be able to head on out Eames decided once he'd done all he could.

Setting the clipboard to the side Eames turned his attention to the wallet he'd splayed over his thigh, picking it up with the intention of closing it and shoving it back into the inside picket Arthur had kept it in. It was then that he noticed the faintest hint of something sticking out of one side.

He didn't hesitate for a second to appease his curiosity.

Carefully Eames slid the piece of paper out, the back of a photograph coming into view. As soon as it was all the way out he turned it over, eyes widening at the black and white image that stared back at him.

It was him from the waist up, fast asleep and on his side. He wore nothing but a faint smile, the background indicating where it was taken. It was from their trip to St. Lucia three years before, a present to themselves after a particularly difficult, time consuming job. He recognized the bed and the doors leading to their balcony in the background.

There were no other pictures in the man's wallet, not of Dom or Mal or either of the couple's children. None of the point man's family or any other friends, none of the lover Arthur had dumped him for.

His was the only picture to be found.

"Why?"

)

This is why you never told yourself things couldn't possibly get worse, Arthur thought as he sat in the wheelchair they'd insisted he had to sit in until he got into whatever mode of transportation Eames had secured for them. He'd gotten into that ill-fated cab thinking that things couldn't get much worse in his life and fate had just had to prove him wrong. He'd had it tossed in his face that his best friend thought of him as nothing but a tool, had accepted that he'd just completed his last job with the love of his life which meant that he'd never see Eames again since the man would have no reason to seek him out, and had no home or family to go to. He'd had nothing but money and that definitely didn't buy what would make him happy. Death or limbo had both seemed like more attractive options when he'd left the airport, and then…what were the odds, really?

Punishment for his sins, it had to be.

Thank God he'd been unconscious when they'd cut his shirt off. It had been one of his favorites.

Wanting to distract himself Arthur asked about the forms he'd need to fill out, surprised when he was informed that his business partner had already filled out most of them for him and that he'd just have to sign off on the data.

Eames? How could Eames possibly know what to put? Not even Dom would be able to fill those forms out since he wouldn't know which identity-ah. Eames had his wallet. The other man must have used that information. Good. They'd be able to leave sooner.

Spotting the other man as soon as they rounded the corner Arthur watched the forger get up from a very uncomfortable looking bench and come over to meet them.

And since it had to be said Arthur got it out of the way. "Thank you for sticking around."

"I'd say anytime, but I'd really rather this be the first and last." Was Eames's drawled out response as he looked him over, obviously taking stock of his injuries. "Though I must say, that is an interesting fashion statement you're going for there, Darling."

All thankfulness vanished in the blink of an eye. "Swallow your totem and choke on it."

Mentioning the fact that he was wearing hospital scrubs was hitting so low below the belt that if he'd been up to it he would have slugged the son of a bitch.

"Glad to see you're feeling so much better." Holding out the clipboard Eames smirked. "Look this over and sign off it like a good boy. I've arranging for a cab to pick us up and you know what the bleeding bastards charge around here."

Carefully taking the forms Arthur quickly read over everything, just in case. Not that it mattered since he wouldn't be returning for a follow up visit, but it was habit to want everything in order. One never knew when unfinished paperwork would come back to bite one in the ass. But everything was in order and after adding a couple things Arthur signed off and handed over the clipboard to the nurse who'd stepped forward to collect it.

Once that was done he and Eames had to listen to a longwinded speech from his doctor as to his care, but thankfully his ex lover was very good at manipulating people and shortly had the doctor believing that he was perfectly capable of handling every aspect of his care. Since Eames actually did have some military training the man probably could take care of him if he had any intention of letting him do so. Which if course Arthur didn't, but he kept that to himself for the time being.

Getting into the cab once they got outside wasn't easy, he hurt everywhere and Arthur was pretty sure it was only going to get worse, but he grinched his teeth and managed it, making no complaint when Eames directed their ride to take them to the forger's hotel. In truth he'd already decided he wasn't staying in Los Angeles and had called his hotel to cancel his reservation. He'd been looking over flights back to Europe when the accident had happened. In his present situation there was no way he was going anywhere so any hotel was fine at this point.

"We'll be there in twenty minutes, Darling."

"Kay." His words were slurry, but he had things to say. "I'll get a room when we get there, no need for you to babysit me. I'll be fine."

"Sure you will be, Luv. And I'm a bleeding cowboy."

Images of Eames dressed as a cowboy, oh fuck he was so unbelievably hot and sexy, immediately swamped Arthur's consciousness, quickly followed by images of the other man riding him instead of a horse, which had him groaning long and low in spite of himself.

"Just rest up, we'll argue when you aren't groaning in pain."

"That could be a while."

"Fine with me."

)

When he awoke two hours later it was to the sound of Eames's voice, Arthur's mind slowly picking up on the fact that the other man was ordering him to state his name, the date, and where they were. Why his former lover was asking him those things made a lot of sense when he attempted to move his head to look in Eames's direction, the pain reminding him in vivid detail of what had happened and the fact that he had a concussion, hence the need to monitor him and make sure his brain was still in working order. So he gave the man the information and then went quiet as he mentally reviewed his injuries as he attempted to move various body parts, discovering in the process that he wasn't wearing anything.

"Where are my clothes?"

"Destroyed, remember? I got the hospital crap off you and you always said you'd rather go naked then wear MY clothes so there you go. How bad is the pain?"

"I've had worse." Unfortunately. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Good. Because in that case you and I have something to discuss before you go back to sleep, Darling."

Obviously the jubilation of completing the inception had worn off and the man was ready to let him have it for his part in the massive screw up that had been the Fischer job. That was fine, Arthur thought as he made himself hold the forger's gaze. He'd take his lumps. He deserved them. "Go ahead."

Reaching into his pocket Eames pulled out the photograph. "When I was going through your wallet for your data I happened to run into something interesting." The forger held out the picture so that Arthur could see it clearly. "You didn't have any other picture in there but this. None of the Cobb family, your other friends, or lovers. Just me. Why? And before you give me some bullshit answer keep in mind that I just completed a job that nearly cost me my life because of your fucking partner. Shooting him really appeals to me at the moment, and seeing you unconscious and bleeding inside that bloody cab hasn't improved my mood in the slightest. So the truth, on your word, or else."

Arthur's lips curved ever so slightly. "Actually…shooting Dom sounds pretty good to me right now too."

"Arthur."

Closing his eyes, knowing that tone of voice well, Arthur knew that the other man had reached the end of his rope. Not that Eames would physically torturing him into confessing his secrets, but the man was even better at cutting a person to shreds verbally than he was. The man studied people for a living after all, he had a sixth sense when it came to finding their weakest points.

"I don't have pictures of Mal and the kids because it saddens me to see what once was. There's none of Dom because it wouldn't be a good idea to advertise our association that way, and I don't have any close friends or lovers whose picture I'd want to see regularly. That picture…is my favorite of you."

Opening his eyes again Arthur glared at the other man, pain, exhaustion and heartache ringing clear in his voice. "You always do what I don't want you to. You weren't supposed to take this job in the first place, damn you. Just like you were never supposed to know about that picture." He added in a more subdue tone of voice. "But why would I think fate would cut me a fucking break? Especially where you're concerned."

Okay, when Arthur used the F word things were definitely serious. "You told Cobb where I was."

"Because I thought he wouldn't go!" Arthur's chest heaved as he fought back the urge to yell every word. "Because I was stupid enough to think the price on his head would keep him from going there, and even if he did you'd talk him out of it. You like a challenge as much as he does, but stupid me, I thought you had the sense to turn him down. I thought the thought of working with me would keep you away if even the STUPIDITY of the job didn't. I mean I even fucking broke up with you to keep you away from him because he's been on self-destruct since Mal died but of course that didn't work either. And once again I get it shoved in my fucking face how little I understand the people I love because not only do you take the job but Cobb up and drags a little girl into the clusterfuck job of the century, and she's so into his plan and him that nothing I say convinces her to back out. You're both headed into the fubar abyss and you can't be more thrilled and I'm stuck behind, the stick in the mud, the man who can't think outside the fucking box, and NOBODY CARES HOW I FEEL!"

Eames was dumbfounded. "Do you even know what fubar means?"

"IT MEANS FUCKED UP BEYOND ALL RECOCOGNITION!"

"Then okay, yes, you do know what it means." And he was so very, very confused. "Did you just say you loved me? That you broke up with me to protect me from Dom?"

"I had to do something, didn't I? I had to stay with him, I gave Mal my word I'd take care of him. I couldn't very well do that if I shot him repeatedly and watched him bleed out because he'd gotten you killed, now could I? I'm not Dom, Eames. I would never sacrifice my most important person for my own benefit. I've fucking lost count of how many times he's gotten me tortured and killed at this point. I couldn't let that happen to you."

"Not to you." Arthur repeated into the silence that had descended between them. "Not if I could prevent it."