"I had the man right in front of me." Jason complained, pacing back and forth in the large garage. His bike was pulled in, his helmet, armored chestplate, and jacket on your workbench. "I should've just drilled a clip into his mouth, not get distracted by his stupid speeches."

He would eventually turn the topic to you and your day... eventually. But a failed mission to get Black Mask at a shipyard tonight has riled him up. You half-listen, your hands steady as you fix the dents and scratches in his familiar helmet. He's been coming to you for repairs for a while now, but you're not sure when they turned into borderline therapy sessions as well. He was still pacing back and forth behind you, in his baggy pants and only a loose t-shirt since his chest plate was with you. He continued to grumble.

"I had him." He groaned for the tenth time in the last hour, burying his face in his hands. "I had him. And what does he do? He signals his guy and hits me with a goddamn shipping container!" He yelled, his voice seeped in frustration. He was sure he was talking to himself at this point.