Eames' hands were large and rough. He knew that, yet his touch was delicate as those same calloused hands gently grasped either side of Arthur's face. "Don't you ever dare do that again," he whispered, choking on the words. "You can't do that to me." Losing Arthur would be devastating. Losing him because he gave his life for Eames' would destroy the forger. Utterly and completely.

"Course I did. You were a fool and someone had to care for you," he said softly, his voice tender. "I was pissed that I had to leave." He'd agreed to a job and knew the hell it would be if he didn't make it. Like the kind of that got a person shot. "If there's a next time, I won't leave."