[a merry chase introspective] eyes without a face
The first time he forges, it's nearly an accident.
Nearly, because he's standing in front of a bathroom mirror in a dream, hiding from his teammates (playing a hunting game, and Eames has the luck to be the target today). He's dressed in fatigues, he's a little bit panicked, he wants to hide. Dream sharing is still new, still unsafe; compounds are raw, untested, and sometimes they're not here long enough and sometimes they're here too long, and it's a living nightmare.
He passed the fan dance, he can break a man's neck with just his hand, has been waterboarded, but being hunted in a dream makes his adrenaline spike and his panic button triggered.
Eames hears footsteps outside, and the flight response seizes. He just wants to get away, he wants to be safe -
and when he looks in the mirror he nearly yelps to find Arthur staring back at him. Arthur, with his black eyes and bloody mouth, bruises all along his arms. He's skinny and young looking, in his ripped up shirt and waistcoat, in slacks.
Eames raises a shaky hand to the mirror. He doesn't know how he did this.
One of his teammates - Morris - breaks the door in. Eames yelps again, and Morris raises his Sig Sauer, then hesitates.
“Who are you?” he demands.
“I don't know,” is what tumbles out, in Arthur's voice. Morris looks confused; Eames feels that way too.
He glances at the mirror, panicked, and suddenly he's Eames again.
Morris chokes, starts to raise his pistol but Eames is faster, bigger, and knocks the gun out, throws Morris to the ground. He breaks his arm with his hands and then his neck with his foot.
Breathing hard because of the adrenaline rush, Eames stands again, looking down at Morris, then at the mirror. He steps closer.
He thinks of Arthur. Nothing happens. He thinks of Arthur and wanting to be safe, of the way Arthur would smile and laugh, the way he winced in pain the night he came home, and suddenly he's staring at Arthur again, a blank expression on his face. He's still bloody and beaten.
Eames punches the mirror and lacerates his knuckles.
When he wakes up, Morris has already told the brass what he's done. And that's when he's told to start practicing his forging.