The wail jolts him from sleep, desperation reverberating the walls like an alarm.

Leon abandons the common room couch, ignoring his doctor's orders to take it easy, and he bursts into the only occupied room.

He shouldn't even be on this sublevel. Scattered with cases the D.S.O. deems 'low priority', it's the perfect place to avoid being hounded by agents and media teams. It's quiet, mostly.

Except for the night terrors.

The body trembles on the cot, limbs knotted in a nightmare-induced paralysis.

Leon kneels down, curling a hand gently but firmly around one shoulder.

Dilated pupils meet his.

"Wake up," he coaxes. "It's not real. You're here. You're safe."