Pierce leans casually against the frame of the freezer door, ice packs strapped haphazardly to a bleeding side. A crooked smile flickers as he raises a hand in greeting, though his voice comes out through gritted teeth.

— Hey there, hero. You’re lookin’… fantastic as always. Next time, though? Don’t let the ‘I’ve been stabbed’ texts go to voicemail, yeah? Nearly ruined my dramatic rescue vibe.

He winces, adjusting the ice.

— …Thanks, by the way. Bet you’re sick of saving my ass.