“Don’t get used to it,” I shoot back, even as my arm trembles again.
His gaze shifts immediately, scanning me in a way that feels more thorough than it should in the middle of this.
“You’re hurt,” he says, already moving closer.
“I’m functional,” I reply, adjusting my stance.
“You’re barely upright,” he counters, stopping just below the rock.
“I’ve been worse,” I say, though the words come out tighter than I want.
“Yeah,” he says, looking up at me. “And I’m guessing you ignored that too.”
Another movement shifts at the edge of the basin, and he fires without looking, the shot dropping it before it can close distance.
“Get down here,” he says, his tone shifting from dry to firm.
I glance at the remaining movement, then back at him.
“They’re still circling,” I say.
“I’ve got it covered,” he replies. “You don’t need to win this, you just need to not die here.”
“That was the plan,” I mutter, shifting toward the edge.
The descent is worse than the climb, my balance unreliable, my strength inconsistent, and I lower myself carefully, one hand braced against the rock as my foot searches for stable ground.
“Careful,” he says, stepping closer.
“I’ve got it,” I snap, even as my footing slips.
He catches me before I can argue about it, his hand locking around my arm, steadying me as I drop the rest of the way down.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “Looked like you had it.”
“Don’t start,” I shoot back, though the edge in my voice softens just slightly.
He doesn’t let go right away, adjusting my stance until I’m stable, his grip firm but controlled.
“You’re bleeding,” he says, his gaze dropping to my side.
“I noticed,” I reply.
“More than you should be,” he adds.
“I’m still here,” I counter.
“For now,” he says, lifting his gaze back to mine.
The moment stretches, something heavier settling in beneath everything else, and I feel it even through the exhaustion.
“You came,” I say, quieter now.
“Yeah,” he replies, just as steady. “I did, so don’t make it pointless.”
Another sound shifts at the edge of the basin, and both of us turn toward it at the same time, weapons rising in sync as what’s left of the threat starts to reposition.
“Later,” he mutters.
