The sirens wail in the distance. Emergency lights strobe across the shattered street, painting everything in alternating red and white. Debris crunches underfoot as other pro heroes scramble to secure the area, to round up the villain who's already been subdued.

His hand lifts again, hesitating for just a moment before his fingers brush against your sleeve. Like he's checking that you're really there. That you're real.

It's not a question. It's a confirmation. A relief so profound it makes his voice tremble at the edges.