"Arthur's okay, then? Is he asleep, can he join us?" the Forger asked, looking up from studying the pools of darkness at Dream's feet. "Or, uh, any of the rest of them. ...Oh, fucking hell, Danny's not in here, is he?"
Hopping down off the bed and standing up, Eames could only blink as everything flickered around him, and he fought back a wave of fear at the thought that the blindness would come back, even in a dream. Staggering forward, he reached out without thinking and grabbed a hold of something to steady himself. And then he realised that his blurry hand had grabbed hold of Dream's robes and he was getting ink or shadowstuff or something all over it. "Sorry, sorry, I, uh, I thought..." he said as he took his hand back, not noticing the blackness that remained on his skin as he did so, "there's something... There's something in the way, this isn't right."