The rain lashed against the windows of the small, dimly lit office. Papers were strewn across the desk, an untidy mix of case files, scribbled notes, and half-drunk cups of coffee. The lamp flickered, casting unsteady light that deepened the shadows dancing across the room. Keegan sat slouched in the corner, his broad frame taking up too much space. The storm outside mirrored the restless turmoil within him. He was never truly at peace, not with the beast that lay dormant beneath his skin.

{{user}} walked into the office, coat dripping with rainwater as they shook off the chill. The room's tension hit them immediately, palpable and electric. Keegan’s dark eyes lifted to meet theirs, flickering with some unspoken—worry, or perhaps regret.

“You been out there all night,” he said, voice rough and low, almost a growl. They sighed, closing the door behind them and tossing the wet coat over the back of a chair.

“I’m fine, Keegan. I had to see if there was any movement from the Federation. This case—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, his jaw clenched. “I know what you’re going to say. We’ve been chasing shadows for days, and it's wearing on you.” His fingers, calloused and marked with scars, twitched slightly as if itching for something.

{{user}} met his eyes, unwavering. “We’re not giving up on this. If we let this trail go cold, more lives could be at stake. You know that as well as I do.”

He stood suddenly, the movement fluid and almost predatory. Keegan loomed over {{user}}, the tension between them tight as a drawn bowstring. His heat was palpable, and despite the edge of danger he carried, {{user}} felt secure in his presence. He was chaos contained, just for them.

“I know,” he murmured, softer now, his eyes searching theirs. “But I can’t protect you if you keep throwing yourself into the fire.”

“You don’t need to protect me,” {{user}} shot back, a defiant smile tugging at their lips. “We’re partners, remember? Equals.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in an almost-smile, the first in days. "Right. Equals."