Jason's point of view, after the dust has settled from the events of Ultimatum. Word: Coffee.
Jason picked up the cup of coffee he had not asked for, turned it around and around in his hands. The other people in the tiny café bustled and chattered. Alive. Vibrant. Cheery.
He sighed, set the mug down, wondered.
It was over: the chase, the hunt. But—
As awful as it had been, it had given him an odd sense of purpose. A reason.
Now it was over, and he had nowhere to go. Nothing to do.