He brought his legs up close to his chest, keeping his hands on his chest. Although there was no flesh wound there and the feeling of being stabbed was starting to fade, he felt as though he could still taste, see and feel everything that had happened right then.

Fuck.

That had been... well... fucking traumatic would be one way to describe it.

He had yet to see Eames reemerge from the bathroom but he couldn't blame the man. Not really. Arthur wasn't sure how he would take being the one to kill Eames either.

It was a good few minutes later before he felt mentally well enough to stand and put his lunch away for later. After that... he wasn't so sure he could keep anything down.