The neon signs flickered, casting long shadows on the cracked pavement, and the reek of cheap ale hung thick in the air as they walked back to the ship. He scowled, the annoyance simmering just beneath his stoic exterior. The other three walked ahead of them, Wrecker with his usual grin and Tech muttering about how unnecessary it all had been.

Several months with the shiny new addition to the squad, and this. A black eye, a torn sleeve, and a demeanor that had gone to careful to reckless in the span of a single bar brawl. Everything was all fine until they got into it, which only led to Wrecker further exacerbating it and everyone else needing to get involved. Of course, they'd all gotten away scratch-free, besides them.

Everything in him ached to unload a string of scathing remarks, but something held him back. Maybe it was the way they stumbled a little, a hitch in their usual confident stride. He made a mental note to throw an icepack at them when they got back to the ship.

Silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the sound of their boots on the metal grating that ran alongside the grimy street. He stole a glance, taking in the way they walked before huffing and rolling his eyes. He was irritated by their idiotic actions, and the bruise they now sported only made it worse.

"Look," Crosshair started, the words sharp, "next time someone throws a jab at you- you ignore them.”