Chapter Text
"Traitor," the lad wheezes on sight.
"Realist, you mean." Eames plonks into the padded metal chair beside the hospital bed. It creaks under the sudden weight. "And a savior of martyrs."
Eames spells it out in language the lad can understand: a tidy list. Thumb. "You failed your job." Index. "I had to improvise." Middle. "You chose the hard way." Ring. "I saved your life." Little finger. "You're welcome."
The lad sputters a laugh or a cough, it's hard to tell. "I could've lived with my choice, but..." He gathers another labored breath. "...you couldn't live with yours."
Some living. He's a gasping mummy of gauze, plasters, and stitches.
There's not a mark on Eames. "I didn't make a choice, I made a bluff. Why else would I have stayed in Mexico?"
The door to the room opens. "Oh, are you two going at it again?"
Cobb crosses the room to stand at the lad's left side, with the fog out the window at his back.
Eames grins at Cobb and thumbs at the lad. "King Tut-tut over here is weighing my heart against a feather."
Cobb rests a hand against the rail on the side of the bed. "Arthur." The lad turns his head to Cobb with an expectant gaze. "Look, Eames made the right call. You needed to make smart moves, not emotional ones."
Outnumbered, The lad directs his glare at the unchallenging fiberglass ceiling tiles. "Visiting hours are over," he hisses through his remaining teeth.
Eames levers upright and sets his hands in his pockets. "Well, at least I know an order to retreat when I hear one," he chirps with mirth.
He's out the door in three strides, into the antiseptic and halogen of the hallway.
He stops to the right of the door and lingers, leaning against the white wall.
A staff nurse with her hair up in a messy bun approaches with a look in her eye that says she's about to tell him he can't wait in the hallway.
Before she can, he throws out a desperate "No hablo español," in Texas twang. He thumbs towards the door. "My amigo."
"The waiting room is this way," arm left, tone tired.
His hands clasp together and his eyes plead. "Uno momento, por favor?"
The nurse is too busy for this. She steps back to return to her more pressing duties.
Eames resumes his leaning. He bows his head and keeps his fingers enmeshed.
Five minutes later, Cobb steps out and closes the door. As he spots Eames, there's a flicker of surprise on his features to see he's been waited for.
Eames nods to him. "Thanks for keeping the peace."
He sighs. "You two bicker more than my children."
A pout. "He started it."
Cobb cuts a glance back at the door, then sets off walking down the hall. Eames keeps pace on his left.
"He'll come around," Cobb says with certainty. "It's still fresh for him now. Just give him time."
Messy Bun wheels a cart up the hallway. Eames turns to her with a broad smile and a quick "Gracias, pardner" as they pass on by. She doesn't respond.
Eames scratches an itch on the back of his neck. "I admire him for trying, really. I wish I still had that sense of things."
"You still do. You bailed him out."
"He doesn't see it that way."
"He will."
"Mind holding on to him for me until he does?"
"Yeah, I'll take him back to LA with me. I'll put in a good word for you."
"Cheers. Bikram Yoga ought to realign his chakras."
"His bones need to realign first."
"Kale smoothies, then."
"Where are you headed?"
Eames shrugs. "Oh, wherever the winds pull my sails."
The winds have taken him now to the front lobby of the hospital, onto a floor mat with an upturned corner. He kicks it flat.
"Take care of him," Eames imparts.
"Take care of yourself," Cobb replies.
"Always do."
Eames shoots Cobb a salute. Cobb nods back. Eames turns around. The automatic doors part before him and he steps outside into the light drizzle.