[Rooftops. The sounds of birds echoing in the false dawn. Al's up high, very high -- on the roof of a building that doesn't look familiar, at least not to anyone that's still here. It's rickety and looks like some of the things inside of it have buckled, but by the traces here and there, Al's reinforced it.
A battered tent is in the corner of the
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Just...don't mind him.]
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... are you all right?
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I'm fine.
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What's wrong?
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[It's none of his business anyway.]
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All right.
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... oh.
[He glances a way, running a hand back through his hair.]
... sorry. I didn't mean for... sorry.
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It's not my business, anyway.
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I know, but it can't have made you feel good.
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Didn't we go over this months ago?
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... it isn't weird?
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[... it's hard to tell if he's joking or not.]
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