May or may not, who's to say?

1) Draven tends to be rather reactive.

-> Draven is a Mobile Task Force agent, he has a tendency to react in urgency or with a trigger. He will exhibit a jumpy attitude out of conditioning. After years of waiting for calls, bells, or alarms, it causes some anxiety.

-> Draven grew up taking care of an alcoholic, bipolar parent. This impacted his behavior certainly. He had to react quickly to vomiting or mood swings. A situation that could spiral quickly—one that could happen in a matter of seconds—it causes the behavior of walking on eggshells or 'jumpiness'.

1.2) Draven has some sort of disorder due to this reaction behavior.

-> Paranoia and anxiety, possibly manifesting in need for control. We have seen it 'confirmed' that Draven has OCD from author!Kondraki [1].

-> Fast reflexes could be triggered by fake stimuli. Things such as imagining the sounds of ringing or other external stimuli. When the body strives for a problem—depending on the psyche—it could cause a surplus of endorphins and other signals. Basically, you expect a problem, your brain makes it.

2) Draven has a habit of tending to others.

-> From showing by his care for Benjamin in Portraits of Your Father to showing his care for James in many instances, he can be shown tending to others. No matter what, he has a habit of near coddling those close to him. It could be insistent to do things by himself, rendering himself as the one who can do them. So, he doesn't bother letting them learn.

2.1) Draven doesn't do this intentionally, it's a bad habit he hasn't picked up on. Despite his more level-headed behavior, he has issues. Some from trauma, the rest traits. He attempts to guide rather than do, but many times he's just settled to do them himself.

-> The habit of taking his father's shoes off for him, to do mundane tasks of putting him to bed.

-> Habits sustained from James's recovery phase; some from re-teaching him to do normal tasks.

3) Draven has occasional nightmares.

-> From the hyper awareness bestowed on him due to his job, he has nightmares from it: from colleagues bodies, to breach alarms, and to many other types of dreams.

-> Draven can lose sleep frequently. He ends up sitting in his living room to read, trying not to wake James. Of course, they usually can't sleep either, leading to them both going to the living room to speak or read together. They got used to these encounters and even look forward to them.

Benjamin lingered a few paces latter to Clef, who towed behind him like a deadweight. Three steps lingering to four, then a stumble from Benjamin. Another night, plastered out of his common sense. This gave little falter to Clef, who had been tasked with ensuring his fellow wouldn't bust his ass falling on linoleum tiles; an occurrence becoming far too prevalent to disregard. This had become a sort of rendezvous between the two antisocial men.

Alto hooked too fingers against the hood of Benjamin's sun bleached green jacket. Tugging the broad man back a few steps, making him stumble. He slammed down on the floor, slurred polish profanities fell from his lips, spouting some nonsense.

Perhaps what Alto did was absolutely in bad faith, but it eliminated one more opponent. He shoved the barrel of his hunting rifle to the mop of black strands, silver streaked with age and stress. It had been slicked back in a ponytail just hours prior, Benjamin had took the band out an hour prior. Perhaps a solemn allegory to his fate, as the ponytail had been replaced with the muzzle of a hunting shotgun.

Cocking the gun seemed to make Alto's consciousness reside away, leaving a hollow focus as he delivered a bullet through Benjamin's cranium. A splatter of crimson splattered on the floor, clinging to all it could. Though, looking closer, it was evident there was a yellow tinge to the blood. This couldn't be real, right?

Alto glanced up at the winding platforms, where staff would typically reside at this time of the night. Some agents did appear on the stairs, but the did not move. No breathing, no stumbling, frozen in place. Their heads were turned to the scene. Dead, glossy eyes boring into his. This still was not real, right?

Wandering around the frozen building, Alto stumbled. Staggering his steps just like a drunkard. He had tripped over a tile that had been fixed two years prior. That was not right. As he hit the flooring, his vision dimmed. the feeling of dreariness settled like molasses over each of his senses.