Some days it was better than others. Today was not one of those days. Some days it was a minor annoyance at the back of his mind. Today, it felt like lightning was pouring through his nerves. Another day in the dark, fingers clutching at the remote as he scanned for something to distract him, when he knew full well that what he sought to avoid would be doing the distracting. His fingers balled into fists, even that motion betraying his frustrated gravitas by evoking a soft groan. He’d given so much of himself. He’d served his country in so many capacities, gained so many skills, saved so many lives, and ended so many more. He did things that he would never, ever confess to, even if he weren’t sworn to secrecy. And the moment those skills became obsolete, the very week that his injury removed his capacity to serve, he was discarded. Set back at home with a brief tribunal, a half-hearted salute, and a quarter of the money he needed to survive. And he was only likely to survive for so long, if nothing changed. Luckily, that’s exactly what happened. It all seemed like a blur. A man in a suit, a briefcase with a tech corporations logo on it, and promises of an experimental nervous system surgery that would make him never care about his pain again. He smiled that day. And there would never be another day that he -didn’t- face his work with a smile. Because loyalty can be a fickle thing, but sometimes, the price is high enough to earn it forever. After all. It’s Only Business.