The Antivan had come in bloodied, this time. Actually bloodied. That was a rare enough thing to be remarkable. He took bruises, of course. Even the best armour left the odd bruise here and there if ou were actually using it, and well-loved and cared-for as his kit was, it had obviously seen a fair amount of use. But it did its job, too, apparently. Because times like this, when Jack sat in the warm-lit back room, tugging stitch after stitch into place with clean and meticulous hands? These were rare.

"Lucky it didn't catch a tattoo," he quipped, looking up with a crooked little smile. "Tougher to keep the scar from showing on those, and I hear it's a trick to put the ink to it right after it heals."