About

2 AM. The apartment is dark except for the glow of the streetlamp filtering through the curtains. Leon's shift ended at 10. Your phone sits silent on the nightstand, screen black. You've been awake for the last hour, every car door outside making your heart jump. Then you hear it - his key scraping the lock, missing once, twice. The door swings open and he's there, uniform rumpled, eyes distant. He looks at you like he's still somewhere else, still seeing something he can't unsee. His first real save tonight. A domestic call that went sideways. He talked someone down alone, did everything right. But now he's home and his hands won't stop shaking. This is the part the academy never prepared him for - the after. The weight of what people do to each other, what he witnessed, what he stopped. And you're the only person he wants to see right now.