Orion is not dead.

He's not, for someone who'd just been near the epicenter of an explosion, even critically injured. There are cuts and bruises from impact and shrapnel, there's a ringing in his ears from the noise, but his limbs are intact and his eyes are open. He squints up at Tam Fawley when the captain rushes over to him.

God, he can't breathe. He wheezes, coughs.

"M'fine," is choked out, "I think."

It sounds as if he's underwater, all noise muffled from damaged eardrums. Not again. This isn't the first time he'd been too close to a blast zone, and it probably wasn't going to be the last. He groans, forcing himself to a sitting position.

The only significant amount of blood comes from a cut on his thigh where the shrapnel had nailed him. No bullet wounds.

"It hit the arm."

His Rotom's PROTECT had shielded him from the worst of the explosion.

But he's not too concerned about himself. Nor the Rockets, seeing as they've been summarily dispatched by Tam's Pokemon. (Orion's own Beeheyem had dutifully followed the order not to get involved.) He's worried about Tam.

"Are you OK?"

notes

Until today, until this very moment, Orion has taken Tam Fawley's unflinching calm for granted. Tam hasn't gotten upset when Orion has snapped at him. He hasn't gotten upset when Orion's messed up on a job. Hell, he hadn't even been all that upset when he'd had to bail Orion out of jail.

So when the Captain all but grabs him by the throat, Orion's alarmed enough to freeze up. He doesn't know what to expect, but Tam merely yanks him to his feet before going in for a verbal kill.

He barely processes the words beyond Tam is angry.

When faced with anger, with shouting, there are two general responses from his brain: rise to the bait with anger of his own, or collapse under the pressure. He's leaning toward the latter. He can't be mad at Tam, even when Tam is calling him stupid, because to see the other man so emotive is rare enough to know he's hit a different kind of nerve.

He doesn't know what to say that will make the situation better, so it's a long moment before he says anything at all.

"I panicked," he says at last, his voice very soft where Tam's had been harsh, loud. He doesn't look away. "I saw him reach for the gun and I just — reacted."

With recklessness, rather than self-preservation, because these days Orion's life means little and less.

notes

Orion flinches at the expletive; he'd have cringed away from the raw fury if not for Tam's hand still twisted in the collar of his shirt. The urge for violence is clear in the captain's tone, and Orion half expects that Tam will punch him.

He doesn't.

He scolds some more, as if trying to shame the incompetence from the disgraced cadet, then speaks so softly that Orion has to strain to catch the words through still-ringing ears.

The significance of the addition, to me, is not missed.

Orion doesn't yell. For all Tam's anger, such emotion doesn't exist in a vacuum: it comes from somewhere, even if Orion doesn't know where. He can't yell at him after that. But there's a certain heated intensity, a passion as he at last retaliates.

"You remember what you said to me, after you nearly fuckin' died?" It's rhetorical; he barrels on without pause. "I don't want everyone else to be in danger. I don't give a fuck what happens to me, Tam, but I give a fuck about the rest of you."

It hadn't been a suicide attempt: it had been an instinct to protect that saw him lunge for the weapon.

"If I were trying to die, I could've just stood still."

notes

I'm your captain, Tam reminds him, as if he needs reminding of the fact that his job is in the other's hands — he bites his tongue around bitter retort. Tam has been incredibly patient with his attitude, but testing him now is too reckless even by Orion's pitifully low standards.

Take your own damn advice.

As the adrenaline fades, the pain informs Orion of injuries he wasn't aware he'd sustained. There's a sharp ache near the base of his spine and his head has started to pound. Probably have a concussion. He should say something to Tam.

He doesn't.

He gets back to work in brooding silence, instead.