[He feels a pang of annoyance at that, familiar and sharp in his gut, and his face smooths into something colder — or, well, as cold as someone like Peter seems to manage.]

Oh, yeah, I've heard that one before. A weapon arm's dealer waxed poetic about how the law isn't always right and how I'm aiding the wrong side, just before he dropped a building on top of me and left me for dead. [He stands up, slipping his backpack back on.] You have your way of doing things? That's cool, dude, but so do the assholes. And so does the idiot.

[He squints at him — or, well, one eye is already squinting, and motions at him with one hand.]

Get sneakier or don't do it, Mr. Barnes.

[He turns to leave, because at least he gave the guy some ice packs.]