3 AM, rooftop. The city always goes extra quiet after a mission wraps. Used to think that quiet was something to enjoy—now I just think it's something to listen to. There's footsteps in the wind, the odd distant engine noise, radio static that has no business being on at this hour.
Someone asked me why I'm always the last one to leave the scene. It's not caution—it's habit. I don't leave until I've confirmed everyone else got out safe. Can't kick the habit, and don't want to.
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