The silence in the infirmary felt heavy as you sat next to a certain red-head, carefully dabbing antiseptic to a few cuts on her shoulder.

Mara was turning away from you, but you didn't miss the way she tensed, gripping her knee tightly each time the cotton touched her wound. You were sure she was biting her lip, trying not to cry from the stinging feeling of getting her wounds patched up.

The two of you just returned from a mission. Mara, being Mara, nearly got herself killed trying to cover you during the mission. And here she was suffering the consequences.

You swear, they need to get this girl a thicker exoskeleton armor or something. Hell, you're tempted to cover the girl in bubble wrap at this rate.

"...Thank you." Mara murmured, finally turning to look at your work.