Not mine, but i hope you like it and please review! 3 and here we go...

"It's alright, sweetheart. I'm going to fix it, everything will be alright." The calm of his voice wars with the pain and concern in his eyes.

This is a type of pain Arthur has never encountered before. He's been shot, stabbed, and experienced countless other things in order to initiate the kick. Being set on fire? That's new. His clean, pressed suite is now stained an odd charcoal color and shredded, seeping into the open burns covering his body. This job paid a great deal of money and was supposed to be easy. So much for the best laid plans.

Eames pulls a gun from within his jacket. His grip flexes anxiously around the handle while a combined look of pain, dread and love cross his face. A look of fierce determination takes its place when his hand steadies.

"We're too deep, you shoot him and he'll drop into limbo." Yusuf says as if Eames didn't know.

Ariadne is crying. It's an odd sight, but Arthur can't deal with her pain and his own. His own pain is like a volcano of fire pushing shards of glass through his veins with each movement. 'Make it stop, please make it stop.'

A kiss to his forehead makes Arthur open eyes he doesn't remember closing.

"Look at me sweetheart, you listening? I'm going to come and get you, alright?"

Arthur feels the beginnings of panic make its way through his pain raddled body. No, not limbo. He doesn't want to go into the dark. That pit of nothing where he can wander in any direction for a thousand years and never again find that beach he'll wash up on.

"No," the soft voice does nothing but break Eames' façade. His eyes are glossy as he sets the gun on the ground.

He takes Arthurs face between his hands and leans in, their noses almost touching.

"I will not leave you there. I know you're scared love, but you're in too much pain. I can't keep you like this if I can do something, anything about it, I won't. I know about the dark Arthur, but I promise you darling, I swear, nothing will stop me from getting you out of there. I won't leave you alone in the dark."

Eames leans in and gives Arthur a gentle kiss, running his hand through that head of hair he always loves to play with on lazy mornings. Arthur tries to take as much comfort from the touch as he can. Eames grabs the gun,

"I will find you, bring you back and love you for the rest of your life. Do you want to know how to tell it's me coming to get you and not a projection? That projection will be something your mind creates and not even your brilliant mind knows what I would do for you, how much I adore you."

Eames pulls the trigger and all goes black.

It's been years, decades. He's tired of walking. How did he get here? Where is he going? He can't remember. The man doesn't even show up anymore. He's alone and it's dark, so dark. All he can do is keep walking.

His skin is wrinkled, eyes weak. The clothes that used to look so regal are now tattered, littered with holes and hanging from his emaciated frame. He keeps walking.

"Arthur," his head snaps up from its constant parallel position to the black, black ground. It's the man again. Many years have passed since he last saw this man, but he hasn't changed at all.

The man runs to him, taking his weathered face between the man's strong hands. The hands are gentle, the eyes soft.

"I told you I'd come for you, darling." There is a choked air around the man.

He knows he can't trust this man. In his thousands of visits he always said the same thing, 'keep walking, you're almost done.'

"Darling, sadness and resignation do not belong on a face as beautiful as yours." The man puts his lips against the thin skin of his forehead.

"You keep telling me to keep walking, but I'm so tired. I can't walk anymore." Tears fall from his old, weak eyes. 'Beloved eyes,' the thought shoots across his mind, but it's gone before he can grab ahold of it.

"Well sweetheart, let's stop walking and how about a change of scenery?"

Now he is in a cozy library filled with the smell of books and the feel of a roaring fire.


"Anything for you, dearest. You don't want to walk? No more walking." The man slides his hand through the old man's thinning hair, "I told you, I'd never leave you alone in the dark. And no projection could love and adore you as much as I do."

Adore. That word means something, something important. It connects him to an important man. A man that adores him; his lips, his eyes, his hair. This man calls him darling and love, sweetheart and dearest. A relationship, that's what he has with this man. After much hair pulling and dancing around the subject he, the old man, Arthur pushed this man against the wall and kissed him. That's all it took for this man to protect him, love him, adore him.

"Eames," the old man whispers.

The man, Eames, smiles wide and kisses him on the lips with a passion Arthur's body could never forget.

"Yes darling, now let's get out of here so I can keep my promise," he says with a mixture of love and determination in his eyes. "I'm going to love and adore you for the rest of your life."

Eames puts both hands on Arthurs face and then…kick.