Arion ignored him. "Dax and Chris will be told."
Nero's mouth tightened. "Chris does not need this tonight."
"Chris absolutely needs this tonight," Dean said from the doorway.
Both of them turned.
Dean stood there in a pale hospital coat thrown over field armor that had not been fully cleaned yet. There was dried blood near one sleeve, soot on his collar, and a look that made Arion's spine straighten before his mind caught up.
For a second, no one spoke.
Then Dean looked at Nero, his eyes caught the split lip already starting to heal.
Then at Arion's red knuckles.
He sighed. "I thought I was supposed to be the immature one in this marriage."
Nero, traitor that he was, looked delighted despite being half-collapsed in a hospital bed. "That was my understanding too."
Dean pointed at him. "You are not helping."
"I rarely do."
"You saved half the civilian corridor and invented a biological-political nightmare. Do not start pretending incompetence now."
