ian.

He snorts and shakes his head a little.  There’s no backing down from a challenge, it’s a matter of pride.  Stupid, stupid pride that he himself doesn’t recommend letting dictate choices but hey, he’s a Gallagher.
“I kinda hate your friends too.”  Ian notes as his eyes follow the largest spider he’s ever seen– this had better be worth it.  Still, he’s smelled worse things, and chances of being bitten by anything just for being down there were pretty low.  “If I get some crawling thing on me I’m punching someone in the face when we’re out of here, just a heads up.”

“Normally?  I’m completely against violence,” unless it’s properly organized and follows a set of strict rules as to who gets hurt and how much but he leaves that out, “but this time I might make an exception and live vicariously through you.  If that happens.  Which it better not.  To either one of his.”  Long fingers twitch and curl into themselves.  He’s fidgeting and doesn’t care if Ian notices.  There’s no other way to work his nerves out and if he keeps them contained?  They’d lose this bet and it’d be his fault.  
“All we have to do is find some supposedly stashed note in this mess to prove that we were here.”  It was no fair that the other Warblers got to come down here during the day time to hide the letter.  If there was one and the group of boys weren’t pulling both their legs.  Should that be the case?  Ian might get a request to swing two punches.  Not just one.