#ebhavoc

Trent's sat in the briefing room when the rest of Bravo arrives, looking rather like death warmed up. Jason opens his mouth, presumably to ask him what's wrong, but Trent fixes him with a steely glare over his mug. Brock cracks a grin at the mug; printed on the side is WORLD'S BEST DAD with the DAD being crossed out and Sonny's handwriting scrawling MEDIC next to it. It's old, already in use by the time Brock had joined Bravo, from Trent's Bravo Six days.

Trent sips his black-as-ink coffee and waits for Bravo to settle down. Blackburn and Ellis are running late and so is Metal, it would seem. When all of Bravo is sat, Trent brings the mug away from his mouth.

"When Scott gets here, I get the first say." Perhaps Metal is hiding? Brock wouldn't exactly blame him, because inducing Trent's pre-coffee wrath was rather like wearing a necklace of steak and walking into a cage full of starving lions. An uneasy look passes between Ray and Jason. Behind them, the door clicks open and in walks Metal, a cup of coffee in hand. And he's a sight to see.

A bruise runs from his cheekbone to his temple, purple and black with yellow edges. He locks eyes with Trent and freezes for a second before his hands come up defensively. "I can explain."

"Oh, can you?" The threat in Trent's tone makes Metal wince before he strides up to the table. Written in block letters across the side is SAWYER and Trent accepts it with a glare to rival Metal's signature one. "Can you explain why I had to talk some lovely officers out of arresting you last night?"

That's news to the rest of them, who look over to Metal, who in turn straightens his back and replies with a surprisingly steady "They weren't going to arrest me."

"Scott, you were in the back of a police car."

"Coincidence."

"Oh really!?"