Maia felt more comfortable once she had her belongings back. She turned to face her back and smiled softly. They looked more like themselves, it calmed her nerves a fraction.

She turned to the Joker, "Can we get out of her now?" She hated that a small whine had planted itself in her voice. Her baser instincts were threatening to take over and she was having a difficult time stopping them.

"'Course, doll." He gave her a manic grin. He nodded his head to the corridor, and they all began to follow him out.

Joker didn't like this. He hated it, loathed it to Hell and beyond. He detested being at the front of the group, it meant his eyes were off them, and if his eyes were off them they could get hurt. Still, he had to lead the pack out, as much as he detested every fractional moment of it.

Harley came a dancing to her mate's side, before grabbing his hand. Previously her eyes had been trained on the ridiculous amount of tension in his shoulders. Sometimes her Puddin' could be so silly. She slid her hand into his. Experience told her that this would calm his worrying somewhat.

Joker gave Harley's hand a squeeze of reassurance. Honestly the action probably did more for him than it did for his Queen. Still it helped him focus on the task at hand. Getting his pack out safely. Harley gently squeezed his hand back. The group kept moving.

Floyd could easily see the tension in Joker's shoulders from his view point. He and Croc had taken up positions at the back of the group, protecting the vulnerability of their pack. The hitman considered the positions their pack had taken.

Flagg was with June. They were positioned just in front of Croc and himself. Flagg's gun was rested against his shoulder, ready to be fired, whilst his other hand gripped June's.

June was a bundle of tension that did not help any of his baser instincts. Still her thumb was gently rubbing against Flagg's hand in a calming gesture. She held the hand gun Flagg had given her with little finesse. Despite this, her grip was strong and secure, never faltering. She was prepared to fire if she had to.

In front of the pair walked Maia, with Chato plastered to her side. The two metas were speaking of something in hushed voices, he couldn't pick up what was being said. Maia was twirling one of her knives in one hand, the other she used to brush against Chato, finding security in her pack.

Chato, Floyd noted, had a mildly worried expression on his face. While that could have been a number of things, Floyd couldn't help feeling nervous at the way he was fussing over Maia. Something was wrong there and it made him twitch. But Chato's protective position around Maia chilled him out slightly. She was safe.

Digger was in front of them, both hands filled with boomerangs. His sacks rested on his shoulders and across his back, containing the rest of the pack's belongings. Digger kept spinning the boomerangs in his hands, as if preparing for the second he would need to use them.

Joker and Harley held hands at the front, guns twitching in their other hands. Joker was tense, like a tightly wound cobra waiting to attack. Harley appeared to be doing everything she could to calm the Joker. From Floyd's point of view it didn't seem to be working.

A smirk twitched at Floyd's lips as he realised that their positions rounded Maia to the centre of their formation, in the most protected point. Each member of the pack was ready to protect her, even little June (who most certainly knew less about fighting than the omega). It gave Floyd some pride and satisfaction knowing they would protect their omega. To the last breath.

During all this Maia was dealing with her fiery mate. He was fluttering around her like there was no tomorrow. The actions didn't truly annoy her, in fact the calmed her down significantly. There lied the problem.

"Stop fussing." She murmured to him, giving his arm a gentle squeeze.

"Are you okay? You look pale, loca." He worried, a hand moving to rest on her back.

"I'm just tired and your fussin' ain't helpin'." The more exhausted she became the less she pronounced her words properly, falling back into her natural way of speaking. "I'm only runnin' off of adrenaline. Your fussin' is chilling me out too much. So stop."

"If you're tired let me carry you." He pressed, far too aware of the vibrating shakes in her legs.

"I ain't getting vulnerable in this place, you carry me and I'll collapse into my instincts." She argued in a hissed whisper, cautious about the rest of their pack hearing.

Chato deflated. A frown marred his beautifully tattooed face, "You don't trust us."

Maia couldn't help it, she rolled her eyes. "'Course I trust you, you idio'." She said with soft affection. "I trust you all with my life."

"Then what's the problem?" He grouched. Maia stopped herself from cooing at his expression. His pouting was adorable. Chato would forever deny that he had ever pouted.

"You're all idiots. I don't trust you with your lives." She tutted. "While I'm down and out and all cooky, you're bound to do something stupid- like get yourselves killed in some naive attempt to protect me."

Chato huffed. He couldn't even argue with that. He knew, of course, that if it truly came down to it any of the pack would sacrifice their own lives to save Maia's. And, in spite of Maia's annoyance at the idea, he couldn't find himself regretting that fact for a single moment. She was their omega of course they'd protect her.

Maia sighed as she read Chato's feelings off of his face. 'Dumbass idiot' she thought fondly.

"We're almost out." She told him. The air was lass dense here, they had to be near the outside. "I'll be fine for now."

Knowing better from experience, Chato didn't argue. Damn the stubbornness of omegas.