He was trying to nap. He was perched out of the way, where he was confident it would be difficult to see him unless someone knew where to look. Sparrow was good at being hidden. Part of it was his size; he wasn't an overly large man, and he could fold himself up into very small spaces indeed. But part of it was also that he was simply good at avoiding capture. He'd gotten remarkably, stupidly good at it.
All you had to do was know the right pockets to line, the right places to be.
The right men to hover, just out of sight. Just one, this time. One who knew better than to go walking down the subway tunnels, making noise like a fucking crashing elephant. Sparrow was trying to fucking sleep.
But yet there it was, footsteps on the subway tunnels, then bodies hitting the floor. Dangerous. Sparrow remained perched where he was, eyes closed. But when the footsteps grew nearer, he said, "You know, little rat. Some of us are trying to get some sleep." He didn't slip off the perch, but he did let his fingers wrap, unseen, around the grip of his bow. Simple matter to shoot, even in this interminable dark. Sparrow could do it, if he had to. "Maybe you should be a little more... quiet."