[ When she inches out of the door he feels something loosen inside of his chest, Eames letting out a sigh he didn't realise he was holding. He presses her shoulder to hers and lays his hand on the floor, palm up in invitation. ]

He deserved it. [ He doesn't say it with vehemence, he doesn't want to frighten her back into the room she's made a cell. He wants her out here where he can see her, know she's real and alive and there in a way he didn't know for years. ( If only he'd looked for her, if only, if only ... ) ]

I want to take you somewhere. [ His gaze travels to the ceiling, taking comfort in her presence. ] The big question is, are we too old for Butlins or too young? [ He wishes they could escape. Somewhere, anywhere they couldn't be found. He hasn't worked a job in almost a year since he came back. He hadn't needed the money. But still it's there on the horizon, the phone that might go off one day, or the slim suited man that could knock on the door. ]