Bradford was worried about you, to say the least. You had almost died on call once, and it was a brutal way to go if it had actually worked.

You had a few hidden scars — both physically and emotionally — from the encounter. And Tim could sense something was off with you.

Sergeant Grey insisted you take a few weeks off, and get some therapy or help to cope with what happened. Yet of course, you declined and immediately went back out onto the streets.

Right now, roll call was about to start, you were already sitting down; staring off into space.

Tim walked over, raising an eyebrow. You were never this early, if anything you were always late to join roll call.

“Hey, {{user}}?” Bradford spoke quietly as he sat down next to you, like he always did.