He listened as the boy spoke, explained the situation at hand. His mind was trying to work out if what he was hearing was the truth or some sort of lie. Body language was what he normally used in the waking world but this wasn’t the real world, it was a dream, the other’s subconscious and everything that he relied on in one world was useless in this one. And Eames hated that he had nothing to really rely on. He could forge one of the things walking around. It wouldn’t be perfect but it would be close enough that he could slip into the asylum without much problem. If they spoke to him then there would be an issue but something told him they rarely spoke to one another which meant he should be able to get into the asylum without much issue.
There was just a part of him that hated leaving the two boys outside. Even if they were nothing more than advanced projections they felt pain, they knew what was going on in the asylum. Eames knew they’d be useful. Very useful but he couldn’t just take them with him. “Hey, hey look at me,” he said, resting his hand on the darker haired boy’s shoulder. He couldn’t even imagine the pain that he was going through. Yes, he’d been shot before but that was nothing to basically having surgery done while you were awake. “It’ll be okay. I just need your help, okay? I need to know what I could be walking into once I step through the doors. Think you can help me with that?” If not, he was going to be in far more trouble than he imagined.
Though seeing the boy in pain, knowing that the source of it was so close had him thinking of just abandoning any sort of common sense and rushing into the building. Eames knew that Loki was a prisoner of SHIELD and that once he dragged him from this dream world he’d be turning him back over to another torturer. But seeing the two boys, one in obvious pain, made him forget that that’s what he was there for – to drag Loki back so that they could question him. It wasn’t the first time he’d forgotten what waited for him topside. Most of the jobs he took on were easy, didn’t require him to do much other than forge and convince their mark to turn over what they knew. This was unlike any job he’d done and there was a part of him that regretted taking it.
But he had no choice. He was there and he would finish it one way or another. Even if it meant turning over Loki to someone who would most likely torture him in similar fashion to what he was currently going through. “I want to help you, yes,” he told him, offering the boy a hint of a smile. And he did – want to help him. Eames just wasn’t certain how he could. Not when he had no idea what Chitauri were or if they had any weakness that he could exploit. “I don’t know how, though. I need your help. Think you can do that?” If not, they were all in trouble. More trouble than he could realistically get them out of. But then again, this was a dream. Anything was possible and he could toy with the architecture, put things back to where he would have the advantage. Even if it meant getting their attention and focusing their efforts on him and not the original in the asylum.
"….I need you to help me….But…This is going to hurt, so please…..Listen closely…I may not be able to do this again…" The child close his eyes, trying to reconnect with the other copies of himself that had been sent out….first he ran into the mind of the closest, the one in the yard…It’s mind was shattered, empty, save for the knowledge of the pain it was in. Quickly, he jumped out, into the thoughts of the next closest - one that had been captured on the steps, and dragged back inside…..It was laying near the doors, eviscerated…The boy whimpered, feeling the projection’s intestines as they had been pulled from his body, and used to suspend him against the wall. This one had retained his limbs, but it’s hands had been bound and secured above it, with it’s own entrails, so it could do nothing to save itself.
”..The…There are three more inside, still playing with the one they captured…” He whispered, sounding terrified as he did so. As copies, they could not die - only suffer endlessly until the original was allowed to call them back…Clearly however, the Chitauri had done something to him to keep Loki from retracting the copies…
"…Beyond that…One of us has fallen…I…I can feel a knife, in my head..I can’t move…But…there…are no Chitauri around me…" The blond boy reached out, slowly putting a hand to the dark haired child’s shoulders, as though trying to soothe him…It did not appear to help.
"…Beyond that, there are stairs…another one of us…..Is pinned to the wall by blades….dozens of them…" The child began to weep as he felt the agony of the copies left inside the building…He wanted to pull back, but he knew that he had to keep jumping from mind to mind of the others, to grant this stranger as much information as he could, if there were to be any chance that his mind might be saved… "Two Chitauri sit near by, though they pay me little attention…"
The boy cringed then, feeling two minds at once. “…Up the stairs…they have….two more of us…I…I have…Three Chitauri…and a knife…in…inside…” The boy’s eyes widened - clearly he had not dared venture into the minds of the other nine until this point, but now that he had, he was struggling to process it. How could his tormenters still be playing with their captured copies? Why would they not leave the boys to ruin…? None of them could move, he could tell as much as that, so why would the aliens continue to maim the motionless children? The boy could not understand it.
Three of the versions of himself remained, the three that had been captured closest to escape…And the boy was terrified to go any closer. “Please…Please don’t make me go any further…” He begged, knowing that if Eames were to have any kind of shot at saving him, he should give the forger as much information as he could…but he hurt…so much did it hurt, he could not bring himself to try. All he wanted was to retreat, into this copy - the last that was whole, healthy and safe…The only one not burdened by constant agony….He did not know if he could stand to continue.