“You’re unbelievable, Meachum.” You slam the glove box shut, the sound sharp in the silence of the car. Outside, the alley is dark and damp. Inside, it’s worse, thick with tension and sweat and the adrenaline that hasn’t worn off yet. Mark leans back in the driver’s seat, jaw tight, staring through the windshield like if he doesn’t acknowledge you, he won’t have to deal with the fact that you’re right. “You were supposed to wait for my call,” you snap. “Two minutes. That’s all I asked. You ever hear of backup? Teamwork? Basic communication?” He lifts a hand to his temple, eyes squinting slightly. “Can we not do this right now?” “Oh, we’re doing this now,” you say, jabbing a finger toward his chest. “You pull that lone wolf bullshit again and next time, I will let you get shot.” His fingers press tighter to the side of his head. “Great. Love the support.” “I am the support,” you shoot back. “You just refuse to use it.” That’s when you see it. He shifts slightly in the seat, his eyes squeezing shut for half a second too long, breath held like he’s waiting for something to pass. “Meachum,” he grunted softly. “Mark,” you say again, voice sharper. He sucks in a breath through his nose and mutters, “Just… give me a second.” You freeze. “You okay?” “Yeah,” His eyes are squinting like the light hurts. His pulse is visible in his neck faster than it should be. “Is it another one?” you ask, already reaching into the backseat for water, for something. “You said they were migraines. You said-” “They are,” he snaps, too fast. You stop moving. “You don’t look okay,” you say, quieter now. He exhales, tries to pull it together. Like if he breathes deep enough, it’ll stop. Like the pain hasn’t been building for weeks. Like you don’t already know something’s wrong. “I’m fine,” he mutters. You narrow your eyes. “You keep saying that. But I’ve seen you take a bullet with less reaction than this.” He doesn’t answer. “Mark.” Still nothing. “Talk to me.” “I told you-” “Tell me the truth.” His hand curls into a fist. His face is pale now. He looks out the window like maybe if he doesn’t meet your eyes you’ll move on.