"Yeah, bullets and contracts on my life are easier to deal with than l..." He stopped, sighing softly. "I'm being a greedy bastard, Eames. I can't..." He shook his head slightly, not wanting to move.

No, that wasn't true. He utterly wanted to move out of the alley, and bath. Perhaps in bleach. But moving meant possibly never having this again. "I never set out to hurt her. Or you." Except he knew he had hurt Eames. Twice now.