Inception/Mysterious Skin - Every Me and Every You (10/30)
Title: Every Me and Every You (10/30)
Author: osaki_nana_707
Fandom: Inception/Mysterious Skin fusion
Word count: 3,043
Pairing: Neil/Eames
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language, allusions to rape,child molestation, and prostitution
Summary: Neil McCormick is fraying at the seams. Then he meets Eames, professional dreamer.
When Neil entered the hotel room, he discovered the same group of people from the other day waiting inside. He sort of felt like he did on his first day of school, standing there and being given once-overs by strangers, not knowing if their reactions would be positive or negative. Neil had never much cared about people's opinions of him, but he knew that these particular ones were vital, so he tried to stand up straight and to present a calm and mature demeanor.
"Mates, this is our new pointman, Arthur," Eames said, indicating Neil. "He's the one who got us the information earlier in the week, so you can already tell he's quite impressive."
"He's so young," the African-American man said, raising his eyebrows before holding out a hand. "Hi, I'm Wyatt. I'm the extractor on this job." Neil shook the man's hand, marveling at how large it was and how large he was. He wasn't fat by any means but built similarly to Eames and intimidating in stature. He was dressed in a double-breasted suit and had an earring pierced in one ear that had a feather dangling from it. It was odd, but Neil had seen weirder fashion statements on a Monday from Eric.
The next to introduce herself was Mrs. Red Hair from the door, and she seemed to remember Neil from that day. "I'm Sophie," she said, taking his hand in hers and scrutinizing him carefully. "I'm the architect." Neil was pretty sure she was from some place in Europe like Eames was, though her accent was a bit harder on the R's. She was small and waifish, dressed in a gray top and a charcoal-colored pencil skirt, and even with her heels on she didn't come up to Neil's eye-level.
Next was the chemist who shook Neil's hand hardily, offering a smile. "Yusuf," he said, quickly. "Chemist." This Yusuf fellow quickly returned to the PASIV device on the table, studying the chemicals he'd placed inside. Neil was pretty sure he liked him best because the man hadn't bothered to make a spectacle out of this meeting. Neil certainly didn't mind the attention, but he wanted them to think of him as an expert like the rest of them.
Neil removed his coat and then his blazer, tossing them over the side of a chair and listened while Wyatt explained the situation to the entire team and what the test run was going to entail. Eames had already given Neil the skinny on the way over, so he didn't feel the need to listen too terribly intently, but he still attempted to appear focused at least. That was hard though because ever since he'd taken off his coat and blazer, he felt like Eames was watching him intently. It made Neil want to slowly shed of all of his clothes, just to watch Eames sweat and squirm. It was always a thrill for Neil to make anyone hunger for him, but with Eames it was particularly delightful. He didn't know whether it was because of the challenge of working with the new clothes or if it was just because he found himself a bit hungry for Eames as well. It was probably a little bit of both.
The extraction seemed fairly simple. The group was only going down one layer (and Neil didn't realize until then that they could go deeper than that, but of course he didn't let anyone know that), and Eames was to distract George while Wyatt searched for his secrets in a vault Sophie had installed on the dream level. Neil's information had changed what they were looking for, but the mission was still basically the same. Eames had also followed around this Cameron person-who was apparently George's best friend-and would be forging as him instead. After all, Cameron was a more likely candidate for George to put his trust in if he knew about his lifestyle on the down-low.
Neil's job was pretty simple at this point since he'd already done the work he needed and the previous pointman had done the rest before, so he wasn't terribly concerned. He decided to look across the room at Eames instead, raising his eyebrows a little as if to ask do you see something you like?
Eames, God love him, was still young enough to see a look like that and blush. Neil would have been embarrassed for him if it was anyone else, but a tint of pink looked good on Eames's cheeks.
"So," Wyatt continued, "the housekeeper is leaving the door unlocked for us this evening. We'll be running the job at eleven forty-five since that's a half hour after George usually falls asleep. Let's go under for a test run and see how the maze looks."
Neil got up then and while the rest of the team was getting themselves situated around the PASIV, Eames approached Neil and pressed a pistol into his hand. Neil recognized it as the same one from the other day that Eames had taken out when he claimed he could shoot him. "For later," Eames said softly.
"You got anything else for me for later?" Neil whispered back, smirking, just to see Eames's face redden again.
"Don't be a cocktease," Eames grinned. "We're at work."
Neil thought about smacking Eames on the ass for giggles, but he decided it was probably best not to do that in front of the others.
Eames had, and hopefully Neil would also have, a reputation to keep.
They arrived about ten minutes early at George Winchester Jr.'s penthouse, taking separate cars so as to look less suspicious. Neil and Eames were in a taxi that stopped at the bar down the street, and as soon as the taxi pulled off they started walking towards the place. As they stepped inside the unlocked door, Neil wanted very much to be impressed, possibly even to think about pilfering a few things, but he couldn't focus on any of that. At the moment, all he could think about was George's cock sitting heavily in his mouth, and that made him feel ill.
"Not bad," Eames said, and Neil was grateful to remember Eames was there. "A bit too modern for my tastes, but that's his fiancée's doing, I'm sure."
Neil wondered why Eames was bothering to talk about the man's house, but he realized quickly that Eames had noticed Neil's sudden discomfort, as subtle as it was, and was talking to keep the rest of the team from realizing it. Eames had said he was good at reading people, and clearly that wasn't a lie.
George's bedroom was at the back of the building, near the windows with the best view of the city. The group of them slipped inside undetected from George's snoozing form.
Neil stood there for a moment or two, staring at the way the alarm clock's red digital numbers cast light over the man's face, and for some reason he thought of Coach. He turned away as Yusuf injected the man with a sedative to make sure he stayed asleep and helped set up chairs and such for the team to gather around him in.
"Good luck," Neil said, once everyone was attached to the machine, and depressed the plunger. A hissing sound emanated from the PASIV, and then Neil was the only one awake in the room, armed with a portable cassette player for the kick music and Eames's pistol.
At that point, there was really nothing to do but wait, so that was what Neil did, wandering the room, looking at the books on George's bookshelf, admiring the view out the window.
He wasn't comfortable here. He didn't like being alone in this room with this man, even if the man literally presented no threat to him. He didn't like the suffocation of the silence, listening only to the breathing of the other people in the room. He didn't like how heavy and cold the gun in his coat was.
The minutes ticked by unbearably slowly, and Neil found himself sitting on the trunk at the foot of George's bed, settling closest to Eames. He checked his watch and checked the PASIV and then stared at the ceiling before doing it all it again. It was taking forever and the longer Neil sat there in the dark silence, the more impatient and uncomfortable he became. He thought about Coach's living room back in Hutchinson, when he and Brian had stepped inside together and Neil had felt so tall and so small at the exact same time. Then, he thought about running his fingers through Brian's soft blonde hair as he cried, and then he thought of Eric's letter.
He hoped Eric had gotten through to Brian.
When it got about time, Neil settled the headphones onto Sophie's ears and hit play, then stepped back. They had about three more minutes, at least on the surface, and then the timer would run out. Neil was glad to know that they'd be out of there soon.
That was when he heard the front door open and close.
Neil turned, holding his breath as he heard someone moving down the hall, and he tried to think of something to do. Who had a key to this place? They'd locked the door on their way in, and they'd been assured that the man's fiancée was in Paris for the week-
Cameron.
It could only be Cameron, Neil thought, and it was. Neil found himself staring down the barrel of a gun at the man, a handsome guy with sharp features but as far from Neil's type as they came. "Oh, good, you're still here," Cameron said, sneering.
Neil just stared back, hand pressed over the gun in his pocket, but too scared to really move. Cameron knew they were going to be there. Cameron knew and he was probably going to kill all of them because going into George's head meant they were going to find proof that Cameron poisoned George's father so that he could run the company with George as his puppet. Cameron had blackmail on George, so George could do nothing but comply.
It was all so clear to Neil in that instant that he was almost dizzy with it.
He glanced at the timer.
A minute and a half.
If he could hold Cameron off for a minute and a half, then the job might not be a bust.
He pulled out Eames's pistol and pointed it back at him. "So… you found out about it?... or did you always know?" Neil asked, stalling for time.
Cameron rolled his eyes. "I suppose it should have been obvious, but no. A little bird dropped by and told me what you were planning, so I came by to make sure to stop it," he cocked the gun, "one way or another."
"A little bird?" Neil said softly, realizing that he didn't quite know how to cock the gun Eames had given him and too worried he'd get it wrong to try.
"Yes," Cameron said lightly. "A young man. He apparently got slighted from his own job and decided to get his payment elsewhere. I'm assuming you're the one he was replaced with."
Neil stayed silent, cursing the previous pointman in his mind. He checked the timer out of the corner of his eye again.
Twenty seconds.
"I got the job done," Neil replied, and his hand didn't shake at all when he went to cock the gun the same way Cameron had done his own. He hoped it worked.
"If you did your job so well, then why are we in a stand-off?" Cameron asked, and then added, "and if you're wondering why I haven't shot you yet, you should know that I'm willing to negotiate first. I don't like getting my hands dirty unless I have to… You're not like that though, are you, Mr. Pointman? See, the man who sold you out may not have known how you got your information, but I do."
Neil felt a muscle in his jaw jump, his stomach twisting a little.
"You are impressive," Cameron said, "to go so far as to suck dick to get your information. I'll admit, that shows some dedication. Oh, and look the rest of the party is here."
Neil turned his head to see the rest of the team had awoken, and he wondered how much of that they'd heard. He turned his eyes back on Cameron.
"Now, I'm willing to make a deal here. You can either get up and get out of here and not tell anyone what you've found out lest I send out the finest mercenaries money can buy to slaughter you and your loved ones, or I can kill you now and save you the trouble of running," Cameron said.
The team stayed silent momentarily, and Neil felt like they were waiting for him to do something… either that or they were just so disgusted with him in that moment that they couldn't speak. Perhaps the jackass pointman who sold them out would have shot and asked questions later.
Then, Neil said, "You do realize that you're basically telling us we have the winning hand here. You don't intend to let us leave at all because as soon as we scatter there's no way you'll find us. The only reason you're even making the offer is because you're afraid we'll kill you first."
Neil lowered his own gun just a fraction. "What makes you think we're going to take that shit from you? Do you realize that you've already lost? Even if George's brain didn't give us the answer we needed the fact that you're even fucking standing here does."
Cameron clenched his jaw and put his finger on the trigger.
"The real reason why you haven't shot us yet is because you're trying to figure out a way to keep it off you. You were pissed off when you found out what was happening and so you came over here without thinking," Neil said, "and now you're in fucking trouble because if you shoot us, you've not only got George's dad's but our bodies on your name. You know they'll trace the bullets back to your gun. You know that they'll look at you for the older George's murder. You know this, and that's why you're fucking waiting. You're bluffing because you have a shitty hand because you can't control your goddamned temper."
Cameron shouted and fired, but the bullet just grazed Neil's cheekbone. Still it made his heart hammer so fast he thought it might break out of his ribcage and on instinct he fired back, the bullet landing somewhere in Cameron's nether regions.
"Shit! Fuck!" Cameron cried out, hands falling over his fly as blood darkened his trousers. Neil wondered if he'd shot him in the dick or balls but instead smacked the gun hard against the side of the man's head, sending him to the floor.
He stepped back and looked towards the team and said, "let's get a fucking move on."
He didn't have to tell them twice. They were already packing up the PASIV and wiping down the areas in the room they'd disturbed. Neil looked down at the unconscious Cameron and took his gun, sliding it into his own pocket before wiping off the one he had and settling it where the other gun had been. People would assume he shot himself, or at least they wouldn't be able to trace it if Eames's gun was ever confiscated.
He felt a hand pushing on his back then, and he just ran as he was directed. The halls and the rooms and then the city lights blurred by as they scattered, Neil being tightly held by the arm the entire time. He ran so hard that it felt like his lungs were on fire, and then he was crammed into a waiting car four blocks away.
A hired driver, Neil managed to process, and then he was leaning back against the leather seat, chest heaving, and pieces of hair falling into his face as blood dripped off of his chin and onto the collar of his dark coat.
He turned towards towards Eames and saw the man in a similar state, flushed from the cold and shaking from the adrenaline.
"You…" Eames panted, "…you fucking… that was the most ridiculous…"
Neil wiped at the blood dribbling down his chin with the back of his hand. He couldn't even feel the sting of the wound, heart still racing from the insanity of it all. "I'll admit… s'not my finest hour…" he struggled to say as he tried to catch his breath, "but… not bad for a… first try…"
Eames stared at him, shaking his head, and then his expression broke into a smile and he was laughing. "Good God… that was bloody genius… You've got one hell of a poker face, that's for fucking sure."
Neil smiled too, letting his head thump against the seat. "Running seems kind of obvious, doesn't it?"
"Eh, no one saw," Eames chuckled, and then they both laughed, leaning close to each other, dizzy and winded from the insanity of it all.
"You think the others will be all right?" Neil asked when their laughter had finally calmed down.
"They'll be fine. We'll reconvene with them in a month or so if we need to, once the fire dies down."
"And what do we do until then?"
"Eh…" Eames shrugged, thumbing at Neil's cheekbone to wipe away some of the blood. "I'll probably go lie low in my flat in Mombasa for a bit."
Neil's smile faded a little, "…and what about me?"
"You… you will go back to being Neil for a bit and keep the PASIV device hidden. No one would expect you to have it, and no one is likely to recognize you in your civilian clothes…" Eames trailed off when he saw Neil's expression.
"So… you're just going to go away then?" Neil asked. "That's it? I might see you in a month?"
Eames's expression softened a little, and he said, "I'll need a place to stay for the night at least."
Author: osaki_nana_707
Fandom: Inception/Mysterious Skin fusion
Word count: 3,043
Pairing: Neil/Eames
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language, allusions to rape,child molestation, and prostitution
Summary: Neil McCormick is fraying at the seams. Then he meets Eames, professional dreamer.
When Neil entered the hotel room, he discovered the same group of people from the other day waiting inside. He sort of felt like he did on his first day of school, standing there and being given once-overs by strangers, not knowing if their reactions would be positive or negative. Neil had never much cared about people's opinions of him, but he knew that these particular ones were vital, so he tried to stand up straight and to present a calm and mature demeanor.
"Mates, this is our new pointman, Arthur," Eames said, indicating Neil. "He's the one who got us the information earlier in the week, so you can already tell he's quite impressive."
"He's so young," the African-American man said, raising his eyebrows before holding out a hand. "Hi, I'm Wyatt. I'm the extractor on this job." Neil shook the man's hand, marveling at how large it was and how large he was. He wasn't fat by any means but built similarly to Eames and intimidating in stature. He was dressed in a double-breasted suit and had an earring pierced in one ear that had a feather dangling from it. It was odd, but Neil had seen weirder fashion statements on a Monday from Eric.
The next to introduce herself was Mrs. Red Hair from the door, and she seemed to remember Neil from that day. "I'm Sophie," she said, taking his hand in hers and scrutinizing him carefully. "I'm the architect." Neil was pretty sure she was from some place in Europe like Eames was, though her accent was a bit harder on the R's. She was small and waifish, dressed in a gray top and a charcoal-colored pencil skirt, and even with her heels on she didn't come up to Neil's eye-level.
Next was the chemist who shook Neil's hand hardily, offering a smile. "Yusuf," he said, quickly. "Chemist." This Yusuf fellow quickly returned to the PASIV device on the table, studying the chemicals he'd placed inside. Neil was pretty sure he liked him best because the man hadn't bothered to make a spectacle out of this meeting. Neil certainly didn't mind the attention, but he wanted them to think of him as an expert like the rest of them.
Neil removed his coat and then his blazer, tossing them over the side of a chair and listened while Wyatt explained the situation to the entire team and what the test run was going to entail. Eames had already given Neil the skinny on the way over, so he didn't feel the need to listen too terribly intently, but he still attempted to appear focused at least. That was hard though because ever since he'd taken off his coat and blazer, he felt like Eames was watching him intently. It made Neil want to slowly shed of all of his clothes, just to watch Eames sweat and squirm. It was always a thrill for Neil to make anyone hunger for him, but with Eames it was particularly delightful. He didn't know whether it was because of the challenge of working with the new clothes or if it was just because he found himself a bit hungry for Eames as well. It was probably a little bit of both.
The extraction seemed fairly simple. The group was only going down one layer (and Neil didn't realize until then that they could go deeper than that, but of course he didn't let anyone know that), and Eames was to distract George while Wyatt searched for his secrets in a vault Sophie had installed on the dream level. Neil's information had changed what they were looking for, but the mission was still basically the same. Eames had also followed around this Cameron person-who was apparently George's best friend-and would be forging as him instead. After all, Cameron was a more likely candidate for George to put his trust in if he knew about his lifestyle on the down-low.
Neil's job was pretty simple at this point since he'd already done the work he needed and the previous pointman had done the rest before, so he wasn't terribly concerned. He decided to look across the room at Eames instead, raising his eyebrows a little as if to ask do you see something you like?
Eames, God love him, was still young enough to see a look like that and blush. Neil would have been embarrassed for him if it was anyone else, but a tint of pink looked good on Eames's cheeks.
"So," Wyatt continued, "the housekeeper is leaving the door unlocked for us this evening. We'll be running the job at eleven forty-five since that's a half hour after George usually falls asleep. Let's go under for a test run and see how the maze looks."
Neil got up then and while the rest of the team was getting themselves situated around the PASIV, Eames approached Neil and pressed a pistol into his hand. Neil recognized it as the same one from the other day that Eames had taken out when he claimed he could shoot him. "For later," Eames said softly.
"You got anything else for me for later?" Neil whispered back, smirking, just to see Eames's face redden again.
"Don't be a cocktease," Eames grinned. "We're at work."
Neil thought about smacking Eames on the ass for giggles, but he decided it was probably best not to do that in front of the others.
Eames had, and hopefully Neil would also have, a reputation to keep.
They arrived about ten minutes early at George Winchester Jr.'s penthouse, taking separate cars so as to look less suspicious. Neil and Eames were in a taxi that stopped at the bar down the street, and as soon as the taxi pulled off they started walking towards the place. As they stepped inside the unlocked door, Neil wanted very much to be impressed, possibly even to think about pilfering a few things, but he couldn't focus on any of that. At the moment, all he could think about was George's cock sitting heavily in his mouth, and that made him feel ill.
"Not bad," Eames said, and Neil was grateful to remember Eames was there. "A bit too modern for my tastes, but that's his fiancée's doing, I'm sure."
Neil wondered why Eames was bothering to talk about the man's house, but he realized quickly that Eames had noticed Neil's sudden discomfort, as subtle as it was, and was talking to keep the rest of the team from realizing it. Eames had said he was good at reading people, and clearly that wasn't a lie.
George's bedroom was at the back of the building, near the windows with the best view of the city. The group of them slipped inside undetected from George's snoozing form.
Neil stood there for a moment or two, staring at the way the alarm clock's red digital numbers cast light over the man's face, and for some reason he thought of Coach. He turned away as Yusuf injected the man with a sedative to make sure he stayed asleep and helped set up chairs and such for the team to gather around him in.
"Good luck," Neil said, once everyone was attached to the machine, and depressed the plunger. A hissing sound emanated from the PASIV, and then Neil was the only one awake in the room, armed with a portable cassette player for the kick music and Eames's pistol.
At that point, there was really nothing to do but wait, so that was what Neil did, wandering the room, looking at the books on George's bookshelf, admiring the view out the window.
He wasn't comfortable here. He didn't like being alone in this room with this man, even if the man literally presented no threat to him. He didn't like the suffocation of the silence, listening only to the breathing of the other people in the room. He didn't like how heavy and cold the gun in his coat was.
The minutes ticked by unbearably slowly, and Neil found himself sitting on the trunk at the foot of George's bed, settling closest to Eames. He checked his watch and checked the PASIV and then stared at the ceiling before doing it all it again. It was taking forever and the longer Neil sat there in the dark silence, the more impatient and uncomfortable he became. He thought about Coach's living room back in Hutchinson, when he and Brian had stepped inside together and Neil had felt so tall and so small at the exact same time. Then, he thought about running his fingers through Brian's soft blonde hair as he cried, and then he thought of Eric's letter.
He hoped Eric had gotten through to Brian.
When it got about time, Neil settled the headphones onto Sophie's ears and hit play, then stepped back. They had about three more minutes, at least on the surface, and then the timer would run out. Neil was glad to know that they'd be out of there soon.
That was when he heard the front door open and close.
Neil turned, holding his breath as he heard someone moving down the hall, and he tried to think of something to do. Who had a key to this place? They'd locked the door on their way in, and they'd been assured that the man's fiancée was in Paris for the week-
Cameron.
It could only be Cameron, Neil thought, and it was. Neil found himself staring down the barrel of a gun at the man, a handsome guy with sharp features but as far from Neil's type as they came. "Oh, good, you're still here," Cameron said, sneering.
Neil just stared back, hand pressed over the gun in his pocket, but too scared to really move. Cameron knew they were going to be there. Cameron knew and he was probably going to kill all of them because going into George's head meant they were going to find proof that Cameron poisoned George's father so that he could run the company with George as his puppet. Cameron had blackmail on George, so George could do nothing but comply.
It was all so clear to Neil in that instant that he was almost dizzy with it.
He glanced at the timer.
A minute and a half.
If he could hold Cameron off for a minute and a half, then the job might not be a bust.
He pulled out Eames's pistol and pointed it back at him. "So… you found out about it?... or did you always know?" Neil asked, stalling for time.
Cameron rolled his eyes. "I suppose it should have been obvious, but no. A little bird dropped by and told me what you were planning, so I came by to make sure to stop it," he cocked the gun, "one way or another."
"A little bird?" Neil said softly, realizing that he didn't quite know how to cock the gun Eames had given him and too worried he'd get it wrong to try.
"Yes," Cameron said lightly. "A young man. He apparently got slighted from his own job and decided to get his payment elsewhere. I'm assuming you're the one he was replaced with."
Neil stayed silent, cursing the previous pointman in his mind. He checked the timer out of the corner of his eye again.
Twenty seconds.
"I got the job done," Neil replied, and his hand didn't shake at all when he went to cock the gun the same way Cameron had done his own. He hoped it worked.
"If you did your job so well, then why are we in a stand-off?" Cameron asked, and then added, "and if you're wondering why I haven't shot you yet, you should know that I'm willing to negotiate first. I don't like getting my hands dirty unless I have to… You're not like that though, are you, Mr. Pointman? See, the man who sold you out may not have known how you got your information, but I do."
Neil felt a muscle in his jaw jump, his stomach twisting a little.
"You are impressive," Cameron said, "to go so far as to suck dick to get your information. I'll admit, that shows some dedication. Oh, and look the rest of the party is here."
Neil turned his head to see the rest of the team had awoken, and he wondered how much of that they'd heard. He turned his eyes back on Cameron.
"Now, I'm willing to make a deal here. You can either get up and get out of here and not tell anyone what you've found out lest I send out the finest mercenaries money can buy to slaughter you and your loved ones, or I can kill you now and save you the trouble of running," Cameron said.
The team stayed silent momentarily, and Neil felt like they were waiting for him to do something… either that or they were just so disgusted with him in that moment that they couldn't speak. Perhaps the jackass pointman who sold them out would have shot and asked questions later.
Then, Neil said, "You do realize that you're basically telling us we have the winning hand here. You don't intend to let us leave at all because as soon as we scatter there's no way you'll find us. The only reason you're even making the offer is because you're afraid we'll kill you first."
Neil lowered his own gun just a fraction. "What makes you think we're going to take that shit from you? Do you realize that you've already lost? Even if George's brain didn't give us the answer we needed the fact that you're even fucking standing here does."
Cameron clenched his jaw and put his finger on the trigger.
"The real reason why you haven't shot us yet is because you're trying to figure out a way to keep it off you. You were pissed off when you found out what was happening and so you came over here without thinking," Neil said, "and now you're in fucking trouble because if you shoot us, you've not only got George's dad's but our bodies on your name. You know they'll trace the bullets back to your gun. You know that they'll look at you for the older George's murder. You know this, and that's why you're fucking waiting. You're bluffing because you have a shitty hand because you can't control your goddamned temper."
Cameron shouted and fired, but the bullet just grazed Neil's cheekbone. Still it made his heart hammer so fast he thought it might break out of his ribcage and on instinct he fired back, the bullet landing somewhere in Cameron's nether regions.
"Shit! Fuck!" Cameron cried out, hands falling over his fly as blood darkened his trousers. Neil wondered if he'd shot him in the dick or balls but instead smacked the gun hard against the side of the man's head, sending him to the floor.
He stepped back and looked towards the team and said, "let's get a fucking move on."
He didn't have to tell them twice. They were already packing up the PASIV and wiping down the areas in the room they'd disturbed. Neil looked down at the unconscious Cameron and took his gun, sliding it into his own pocket before wiping off the one he had and settling it where the other gun had been. People would assume he shot himself, or at least they wouldn't be able to trace it if Eames's gun was ever confiscated.
He felt a hand pushing on his back then, and he just ran as he was directed. The halls and the rooms and then the city lights blurred by as they scattered, Neil being tightly held by the arm the entire time. He ran so hard that it felt like his lungs were on fire, and then he was crammed into a waiting car four blocks away.
A hired driver, Neil managed to process, and then he was leaning back against the leather seat, chest heaving, and pieces of hair falling into his face as blood dripped off of his chin and onto the collar of his dark coat.
He turned towards towards Eames and saw the man in a similar state, flushed from the cold and shaking from the adrenaline.
"You…" Eames panted, "…you fucking… that was the most ridiculous…"
Neil wiped at the blood dribbling down his chin with the back of his hand. He couldn't even feel the sting of the wound, heart still racing from the insanity of it all. "I'll admit… s'not my finest hour…" he struggled to say as he tried to catch his breath, "but… not bad for a… first try…"
Eames stared at him, shaking his head, and then his expression broke into a smile and he was laughing. "Good God… that was bloody genius… You've got one hell of a poker face, that's for fucking sure."
Neil smiled too, letting his head thump against the seat. "Running seems kind of obvious, doesn't it?"
"Eh, no one saw," Eames chuckled, and then they both laughed, leaning close to each other, dizzy and winded from the insanity of it all.
"You think the others will be all right?" Neil asked when their laughter had finally calmed down.
"They'll be fine. We'll reconvene with them in a month or so if we need to, once the fire dies down."
"And what do we do until then?"
"Eh…" Eames shrugged, thumbing at Neil's cheekbone to wipe away some of the blood. "I'll probably go lie low in my flat in Mombasa for a bit."
Neil's smile faded a little, "…and what about me?"
"You… you will go back to being Neil for a bit and keep the PASIV device hidden. No one would expect you to have it, and no one is likely to recognize you in your civilian clothes…" Eames trailed off when he saw Neil's expression.
"So… you're just going to go away then?" Neil asked. "That's it? I might see you in a month?"
Eames's expression softened a little, and he said, "I'll need a place to stay for the night at least."