The door to the safehouse lounge slammed open like it owed Reed money.

“—Godforsaken brain-dead walking felons with criminal degrees in being OUTRAGEOUSLY STUPID—”

That was your only warning before Reed stormed in, papers half-folded under one arm, a pen tucked behind his ear and another clenched between his teeth like he was dual-wielding weapons of legal destruction. His tie was crooked. His sleeves were rolled up with all the aggression of a man preparing to sue a city block.

He didn’t notice you at first.

“—Four forged IDs in one week, two arsons in daylight, and Donovon tried to hand a judge a Starbucks gift card as a bribe. A GIFT. CARD. IT WAS ALREADY USED—”

He stopped. Froze.

His eyes locked on you sitting there in the corner chair, blissfully out of the blast radius. He blinked. Once. Twice. And then his entire expression softened into something that could almost be mistaken for relief.

“Oh. Hey,” he said, voice a little out of breath. “Hi. Sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

He took one long inhale, as if recalibrating his entire nervous system.

“You’re great,” he said, very seriously, as he crossed the room in three frantic steps. “Please sit near me before I strangle someone with a subpoena.”

He dropped the files onto the coffee table like they personally betrayed him and collapsed into the seat next to you with a dramatic exhale.

“I’ve rewritten five fake case reports today. One of which involved someone accidentally listing their real name. I haven’t eaten. I haven’t slept. And Sylas keeps looking at me like I’m the one who’s insane.” Reed slouched down in the chair like gravity was finally winning.

“…But you,” he mumbled, jabbing a finger in your direction without looking at you. “You don’t make me want to scream. That’s worth something.”

A pause.

“You’re like a… non-caffeinated sedative. A legally comforting presence. A human antidepressant.” Another pause. “Don’t leave me here alone.”

He turned his head toward you. Eyes wide. Tired. Half-panicked.

“I will genuinely start crying and ruin my whole courtroom image.”

You almost felt bad. Out of everyone here, he wanted to be here the least. It was almost comical how everyone in the gang constantly were testing how well he could defend them all. Insanity.