And the walls come crumbling down - for dreamsofmazes

Eames had shot himself. It might have been in a dream but all that was going on between them had gotten so bad the man would rather shoot himself and end the dream rather than have it out with Arthur. That may have only led to a row to end all they might have shared except for one thing.

Mal.

Even if she was a shade of herself, an invention of his mind to deal with loss and pain and need, Arthur could not bring himself to defame her memory by not heeding her advice.

Right after he kicked Eames' ass for that little stunt.

The warehouse was empty, the lawn chair still warm. Arthur made his choice in a second and a short cab ride later he was banging on Ariadne's door. Angry, upset and determined, he didn't allow himself time to stop and think. If he did he might second guess what he was about to do.