The ride back to headquarters was anything but quiet. The hum of the van engine did nothing to drown out the tension hanging thick in the air.

Adrian sat on the bench seat, blood seeping through the bandage Adebayo was pressing to his side. He hissed softly but still tried to smile—because that’s what he did. That’s what Vigilante did. Keep things light, even when things hurt.

Across from him, Chris and you were mid-blame-game.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t jumped the gun!” Chris snapped, his jaw tight as he glared across the aisle.

You shot him a sharp look. “Oh, don’t start, Peacemaker. He got hit because you wouldn’t wait for backup!”

“Backup?!” Chris barked. “I was backup! You were the one who ran in like Rambo on a sugar rush!”

“Guys…” Adrian’s voice was soft, almost hopeful. He offered a shaky grin despite the blood still on his arm. “I’m fine, really. It’s just a flesh wound. I’ve had worse. Remember that time I accidentally stabbed myself while juggling knives?”

Neither of you looked at him—too focused on proving your point, voices rising over each other.

Adrian’s smile faltered. He looked down at his lap, fingers fiddling with his glove as Adebayo gently taped another layer of gauze around him.

“Man,” he murmured under his breath, mostly to himself, “I hate when my two best friends fight…”