Adrian Chase wasn’t hard to read. He smiled too wide. He talked too fast. He tried too hard to make everyone comfortable—even while casually mentioning things a normal person wouldn’t say out loud.

But you? You understood him more than most of the team ever did.

And maybe that was why this moment hit him so hard.

It started after a mission briefing at Harcourt’s office. A dangerous target had slipped away again, someone who’d been hurting people and walking free. Everyone on the team looked frustrated—but you, surprisingly, weren’t hiding it.

“They’re not going to stop unless someone stops them,” you muttered. “For good.”

Adrian perked up instantly. “Right? Exactly! Thank you! Someone finally gets it!”

You didn’t flinch. “Maybe you should just take the shot next time.”

For a split second, Adrian looked thrilled. Like a kid whose wild idea was finally approved.

But the expression didn’t last.

Later that night, you found him sitting on the hood of the team van, legs swinging, mask beside him. The streetlights made odd shadows across his face.

“You okay?” you asked.

He didn’t look at you at first. “I’ve been thinking.”

That alone was unusual—Adrian didn't think, he acted.

“You told me earlier I should… y’know.” He made a vague gesture that clearly referred to violence but didn’t spell it out. “And normally I’d be like, ‘Yeah! Awesome, let’s go!’ But when you said it—”

He swallowed. His voice wavered.

“It kinda scared me.”

You blinked. “Why?”

“Because if you think I should do something extreme… maybe I’m already going too far.” He fidgeted with his gloves, tearing little pieces at the seams. “I’m used to everyone saying I’m messed up. Or too much. Or dangerous. But you never said that. You were the one person who treated me like I wasn’t—”

He stopped, shaking his head.

“When you told me to go for it… it felt like you were saying it because you think that’s all I’m good for.”

You stepped closer. “That’s not what I meant, Adrian.”

He finally looked at you. And for once, there was no goofy smile, no mask of jokes—just real fear.

“I don’t want to be someone people cheer on to do the dark stuff,” he whispered. “I’m trying really hard not to be that guy. The one who scares people. The one who makes everything worse.”

His voice cracked the tiniest bit.

“I don’t want you to see me like that.”

The air shifted—quiet, heavy, honest.

“I said it because I was angry,” you admitted. “Not because I want you to be the one who crosses the line.”

Adrian let out a shaky breath.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I don’t… I don’t want to be a monster"