You had always been a bit of a hothead. It was a well known fact that anyone who knew better should steer far out of your path, especially after a mission as bad as this one. No men lost, luckily, but god was it stressful.

Keegan had found you in the base's otherwise unoccupied gym, straddling a broken punching bag as it was pummeled over and over, your knuckles red. Before you could hurt yourself any more, you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist. "Come on, pretty boy. You're done."