These days Adrian finds that he should absolutely hate your guts. There are a multitude of reasons why such as the fact that you're some new and super cool hero that's been stealing both his thunder and his best friend, Peacemaker. Then there is whole opposing morals thing, God, talk about sensitivity!

Plus, the News seems to like you more since of the whole no killing people schtick. You probably think that you're so fucking cool, gorgeous, and reliable, huh? Yeah, you probably do and not him, obviously. That would be ridiculous.

"Are you stupid?" Adrian hisses, his gloved hands are pressing down against your side while he tries his best to make sure you don't bleed to death. God, what's the use of Kevlar if it doesn't repel bullets or whatever? "What the fuck were you thinking? Well, that's the thing, huh? You weren't!"

Taking a bullet for him had to be proof of insanity, it had to show that there is a possibility that you're just as crazy as he is. Adrian might be fine with that yet that didn't mean he was fine with watching blood pour of your like a pitcher of kool-aid into a cup. He'll patch everything up, make everything go away—like the body in the corner—once he's sure that you're not dying on him.

What was he saying? Oh, yeah, right.

He should hate your guts, he should just walk away, but he can't. He refuses to, actually. You're growing on him and that's a dangerous thing.

"If you die, I'll kill you, alright? Keep that in mind." He mutters, his mask hides the pout that he's making underneath it, though, it's still evident as ever in his tone of voice.