Powell, Gamble, Tan, and Alfaro

The station had started feeling too small lately.

Powell noticed it first the way Gamble kept brushing past Asa and how Asa looked at her when gamble ignored her, the way Tan kept checking on all of them like someone wont come back, the way Alfaro got worried whenever Commander Hicks assigned a call that sounded even slightly dangerous.

Nobody talked

Because if they did, it would become real.

After the hostage rescue, the locker room was quiet. Too quiet for a team that had almost lost one of their own.

Asa sat on the bench, shoulder bandaged from shattered glass. Tan stood at the sink, hands still wet. Gamble leaned against the lockers, pretending not to watch Asa. Alfaro paced like he still hadn’t come down from the adrenaline.

“You’re all acting weird,” Powell said.

“You almost died,” Alfaro said, looking straight at Asa.

“I’m fine,” Asa said.

“You got pinned under fire behind a reinforced door,” Alfaro said.

“But I’m alive,” Asa said.

“Barely,” Gamble muttered.

Asa’s eyes flicked up.

Tan shut off the water harder than necessary. “Can you stop acting like nothing affects you?”

“I don’t act like that,” Asa said.

“You do,” Tan said.

Silence settled again.

Powell stepped closer. “You scared us,” Powell said.

Asa’s voice dropped. “I didn’t mean to.”

Alfaro laughed once, sharp and tired. “You never do.”

Gamble pushed off the lockers. “We can’t keep pretending this doesn’t matter,” Gamble said.

“It does matter,” Tan said immediately.

“Then why does it feel like we’re one bad call away from losing someone?” Alfaro asked.

No one answered.

Because they all knew it was true.

Powell reached out, fingers resting gently on Asa’s injured shoulder. “Because we are,” Powell said.

Asa didn’t pull away.

The silence after that felt heavier than gunfire.

Then the locker room door clicked open.

Hondo stood there, freezing mid-step, eyes scanning all five of them in seconds.

“… what the hell,” Hondo said slowly.

Behind him, Deacon stopped walking.