Wildwing slid onto one of the benches that flanked the mess hall table and picked a sandwich from the plate someone had prepared.

"Who made lunch?"

"That would be me," Duke grinned. "You're welcome. So how's the kid?"

Wildwing chewed thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing and responding. "Oh, she'll be fine. Tanya put a brace on her and says it'll heal completely. She's sleeping off the painkillers right now. I'll wake her up around dinner if she doesn't wake up on her own."

Mallory rolled her eyes and shot Nosedive a look. "And you thought I had a bad temper."

Nosedive snorted, smirking. "At least she only beats up on machines and not living people."

Mallory threw a cheese puff at him. Nosedive threw the tab from his soda can back at her and then ducked behind his brother, who was promptly nailed in the face with half a ham sandwich.

"Guys, come on!" Wildwing brushed a piece of tomato off his beak and reached for a napkin; Duke, Nosedive and Mallory sniggered.

"Sorry, Wildwing. I was aiming for your brother."

"I know who you were aiming for. What I want to know is how you missed when he's less than four feet away from you." He wiped his face clean and glanced over his shoulder. "Nosedive, let go of my shirt, you're stretching it out." Nosedive was still crouched behind his brother, clinging to his t-shirt for balance.

"Aw, you're no fun." He brushed Wildwing's shirt straight as he stood up—quite a bit more than necessary, actually. "There." Brush, brush. "See?" Brush. "Good as new." Brush, brush, brush.

Wildwing swatted at him. "Would you quit and just eat your lunch?"

Duke grinned across the table at them. "Ah, brotherly love. It's a beautiful thing, ain't it, Mal?"

They ate in silence for a few moments before Mallory spoke up. "So, Wildwing... What are you gonna do?"

He looked up. "About what?"

"About that kid."

Wildwing raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, what am I gonna do about her? I dealt with it. She's fine."

Nosedive piped up. "Look, as much as I like having another teenager around, Wing, Mallory's kinda got a point. I mean, she's a little..."

"She needs more help than we can provide," Mallory finished for him. "This destructiveness isn't healthy. And the kleptomania is a magnet for trouble, and Klegghorn's breathing down our feathers enough as it is."

"I've known people who can't control their stealin', Mallory," Duke commented quietly. "It ain't easy t'beat, an' it's dangerous. It gets bad enough, they start getting' sloppy. Like when she tried to steal from me. She's been lucky so far, but she'll get caught eventually. An' then what? She can spend the next twenty years in prison with murderers and rapists? She don't deserve that. Not for somethin' she can't even control."

Mallory was growing frustrated. "We have bigger priorities than always keeping an eye on a kid who doesn't want our help anyway!"

"She wants our help," Wildwing stated immediately, to the startled expressions of his teammates. Mallory snorted.

"Coulda fooled me. Are you telling me that 'I hate you' is her way of saying thanks?"

Wildwing sighed. "Christina doesn't hate any of us. She's just not used to having boundaries and she's not used to people looking out for her. She doesn't know how to trust. She's been on her own too long. We're just going to have to give it time—we're having an effect already. She's trying. She just needs time. Nobody can change overnight." He smiled. "Think what you want about my mental health, Mallory—" she had the grace to look embarrassed "—but I'm not ready to give up on her. She's staying. End of song."