Maggie was waiting for him when he exited the elevator, greeting him with the words my car. It hadn't surprised him, but he still suppressed a sigh. He didn't have energy for a lecture. The word reckless had followed him his entire life, echoed by his mother, teachers, commanders and various others. None of them matched the intensity of which Maggie had confronted him early in their partnership, with a broken voice and eyes harbouring unshed tears. It scared me. Don't do that again. The memory still made his heart twinge, somehow more painful than actually being shot. Especially today. He'd disappointed her, as always.

After he closed the car door, he was only met by heavy silence. The lecture never came. There was no "that was stupid" or "I told you to stay covered". Instead, she fired up the car, and the silence blanketed them all the way till she parked outside of his place.

Somehow, the silence felt worse. At least he could defend himself if he said something. Or he could get angry at her for being angry with him. He imagined that would feel better than the crushing weight of her silent disapproval.

"Thanks for the ride," he muttered, finally breaking the silence.

"Mhm." She turned the keys and turned off the engine and unbuckled her seatbelt. We're not done yet.

"You're mad."

She shook her head, sinking back into the car seat. "I'm not mad, OA." She spoke softly, turning to look at him, making sure he was listening. "I'm worried."

Oh. "Well, I'm not hurt."

"Physically, maybe." But you're still hurting. "Look, you ran into a building with an active sniper and tackled him without thinking." She swallowed, eyes dropping to her hands. "It's a miracle he didn't kill you."

Not a miracle, he wanted to say. It was luck. The shooter hadn't seen him for his angle, limited by the scope of his gun and too focused on the sirens approaching in the distance. Of course, OA hadn't known that at the time, but Maggie didn't need to know that. All's well that ends well, and all that.

"I didn't have three minutes to wait for SWAT," he attempted. It might be a thin defense, but it was something.

"Yes you did, OA." Her voice betrayed her at his name, and she took a few moments to gather her. "Nobody was in danger."

Not right then, but a lot could change in three minutes. The civilians who had taken cover could run into the line of fire out of panic. Someone else could enter the market place, oblivious to the looming danger. OA couldn't be sure the sniper wouldn't take out any of the approaching officers. He couldn't be sure he wouldn't take a shot at her once she arrived with SWAT. After all, she was exposed, only wearing a vest in a sea of armored officers. She would be the easiest target.

In his heart, he knew he'd acted out of fear. There had been too much loss in his life lately, and grief didn't get better with experience. Had she been hurt, had she been killed, he didn't think he could live with it.

Fear led him to risks: He'd rather die trying to keep her safe.

"It was my responsibility," he said, twiddling with his rings. "You weren't there." She didn't have to carry it with her had it gone wrong.

The small twinge of her eyebrows let him know he'd pressed a sore spot, and he immediately regretted it. He hadn't meant for it to be an accusation. It was supposed to be a defense.

"I know." She clenched her jaw, but bit back whatever else she wanted to say.

"Do you want me to apologize?" He tried. If it would make her feel better, he'd do it, even if he wouldn't fully mean it.

She shook her head, and turned back to look at him, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Do you have a death wish?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. What? "No, I-" his words caught in his throat, and he didn't know why it was so hard to say I don't. Because he didn't. At least he hadn't thought so up until this moment.

She placed her hand on his forearm, rubbing her thumb against his forearm. "You what?"

"It's better if it's me, than if it's anyone else." Before he could see the look on her face, he dropped his gaze down to his rings, continuing to twiddle them between his fingers.

She inhaled sharply, continuing to run her thumb across his shirt. "Do you really believe that?" He didn't think he'd ever heard her speak this gently.

I don't know. He'd certainly been told so enough growing up. At some point along the way, some part of him must've begun believing it. The army had inadvertently reaffirmed it. He was expandable. He was less worthy.

"Well, it's not true," she told him, voice a bit steadier now. "Okay?" He didn't even realize he was crying till she cradled his cheek, thumb gingerly brushing away the straying tears. "You matter. Your life matters."

He leaned into her touch and closed his eyes, wondering how she could be so sure of that.

"I know you've been through a lot, especially recently," she continued, guiding him to turn his head towards her even if he couldn't bear to open his eyes. "You don't go through all of that without being burned."

He sniffled, unable to say anything in response.

Then he felt her shift closer, letting her forehead fall to rest against his. "I wish you didn't have to carry all of that. You don't deserve to."

Somedays, it felt like he did.

She shook her head, reading his mind. "You don't," she emphasized. "You are the best person I know, OA. You're my best friend."

At that, he smiled. "I am?"

"You are." At that, she moved to place a kiss against his forehead, and then she pulled back. "You're not expandable." There was her certainty again. "And you are loved, okay?" She took his hand. "Your family loves you. I love you."

Love. Strange, how one word could hold so much power, immediately engulfing him in comforting warmth. Finally, he opened his eyes again, daring to meet her red-rimmed eyes.

"Pretty sure that barista who always gives you extra cream in your coffee loves you," she gave a watery chuckle, and he couldn't help but return it.

"Only because I tip extra," he said, voice quiet. Saving up for college on minimum wage wasn't easy, after all.

"See? You're a good person, OA," she squeezed his hand, smiling at him. "The world is a better place because of you."

He nodded. "Yeah, okay." Even if he wasn't quite ready to fully believe that just yet, some of the knots in his heart were starting to loosen up. For the first time in months, he felt a little better. That was something.

"Have you thought about therapy?" she asked.

He shrugged. Not really.

"You should consider it." She said. "I know it's not a magic cure, but I think it could help you feel better to just...talk about these things."

"I'll think about it," he promised.

"Good." She relaxed her shoulders. "And no matter what you decide, you always have me, okay?"

He smiled. "I know."