I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder, pulling me out of the crushing memories. I felt the wet trickle of tears making their way down my cheeks, and burrowed my face further into the crook of my arm.

The hand on my shoulder gently pushed my body to the side so that I had to look up. Michael was above me, a look of pure devastation on his face. “Luka, don’t ever think that I would criticize you about something as awful as this. You went through something unimaginable, of course you wouldn’t be fine after only a week. It doesn’t matter if he was a complete stranger, or your best friend. It would be traumatizing either way.” He gives me a reassuring smile, and I grin and sit up. I pull him close, giving him a quick hug.

“See, things like this are the reason why you're my best friend.” He laughs, slapping my back and pulling away. Mikey’s smile once again falls away, and I brace myself for whatever it is he is going to say.

“I was actually just going to tell you not to push yourself. I know Coach wants you to become stronger and faster, but you still need to heal. You got really hurt, and it hasn’t been that long. I don’t care that you ‘heal faster’ or whatever the hell it is you like to tell people. Take a breather.” He says this quickly, in one breath, and I cross my arms.

“Did you calm me down just so you could reprimand me on that? Relax, Doc. I’m fine.” Michael grins at the name, brushing off my protests with a stern look that brooked no arguments.

He stands, running a hand through his dark hair and offering a hand to me. I take it, wincing as I stand.

“Come on, Deanne wants to see us.” Michael is making his way across the field, heading towards the nearest building.

I follow, trying and failing to hide the scorn in my voice as I say, “What does she want? I’m barely healed and she’s already trying to give me another job?”

He shrugs, throwing a grin my way and says, “Well, you know the WSA: ‘We’ll get you the information you want, whether or not it kills us.’”

“All this spy business will kill me someday, I just know it. Why did I even join in the first place?” Michael laughs as I scowl at him, slapping me on the back as he herds me inside, past the sign on the door that read: “Worldwide Spy Association.”

“Because, kiddo, if I was gonna become a spy, you just had to, too. Just couldn’t stand to let me do something awesome while you became a boring lawyer or something.” He laughs as I shove him, rolling his eyes at the “Stop calling me kiddo, I’m only a year younger than you!” that I mumble under my breath.

“Well kid, I am an experienced adult, while you are just a young teenager who knows nothing of the world.” I laugh, choosing not to remind him of the fact that I will be an “experienced adult” in about three months.

We make our way through the tinted doors, quickly walking down the halls of the refreshingly cool building. Glancing at the unmarked doors, some of which I still have no clue what they lead to, reminds me of the day I had first come here.