There was a time in everyone's life where they begun to question everything that they had done with their lives, judging themselves mercilessly until they were uncertain that they even knew who they were anymore. It seems impossible for someone to know an individual more than that person knew themselves, but Sebastien didn't doubt that logic for a moment because he was living proof of that theory. At times he didn't feel he even lived in his own head. This line of thinking had coined the term "midlife crisis" with a borderline "identity crisis," but as a man of only twenty-one years-old, he couldn't say for certain that was what you could call it. There wasn't a proper term for the situation he found himself to be in unless it was mere insanity. For someone who could learn anything and everything by simply catching a glimpse of it, this was one question that he simply couldn't find the answers to.

He rubbed the stubble on his jowl in frustration as he walked down the street, looking at the surroundings without actually looking. The logic didn't really make much sense, but nothing in his life seemed to nowadays. Looking at everything as if it was in a fog was the only way to keep the thoughts from overloading Sebastien's mind, but this method only worked for so long; once the fog lifted just for a second, it acted like an overstretched rubber band and the surroundings smacked him in the face from the backlash.

"I'm not getting anything on my end, Parker. Perhaps we should just call it a night?" Sebastien said as he pulled at his collar to loosen it. God, the slightest pressure anywhere near the head made it feel as if it was going to implode; the migraines were the worse part of this whole ordeal.

This was their first official mission in the field after a long year of training and experimentation and they didn't have any time off before being thrown into the bowels of the city, looking for the enemy to destroy or waiting for them to find them first. This was the part of Sebastien's life that had questioned his entire existence, committing the biggest mistake of his life that happened the day he had agreed to join the External Affairs. Of course the choice had been completely his own choice, but there was no way he could allow his best friend to join such a dangerous mission without being there for Parker.

It had always been Parker's dream to be a hero; as silly and idealistic as it sounded, he'd always admired the protagonists in those comic books. They always succeeded, no matter the strife that they had to endure, and in the end, everything would be fine once more. Social order would be restored, the guy would get the girl, and everyone but the villain would be just peachy. Possessing such strength, such courage, was what Parker had always aspired for, but on his own, it was impossible. He was just one of those faceless background characters, the nameless taxi driver or waiter, or, even worse, one of those who the villain killed in order to show just how ruthless he was. He didn't really matter. He was just there to amplify the superhero's persona.
He was just average.
Finally, though, he'd been given an opportunity to be so much more than that. It was all thanks to the Department of External Affairs. He would never be able to repay them for that, but even if it cost him his life in interest, he'd be willing to shoulder that debt.
"Well, I could always stand in the open and wait for something to happen," Parker replied, tilting his head upward a bit in order to meet his taller companion's eyes. He smirked. "Kidding, kidding, before you go into one of your episodes. But I'm not willing to leave until we complete our mission. I'm not going to make a fool of myself before we even have the chance to get in our first kill."

Sebastien sighed in exasperation and shook his head slightly while pulling a bottle from his pants pocket. After unscrewing the lid, he shook a few pills loose and popped them in his mouth, chewing on them. For the last year, aspirin had become his second best friend and must have gone through at least two bottles per week. He knew it was unhealthy, but the pain in his head was unbearable to deal with day in and day out. Though it didn't make it disappear completely, it was relief nonetheless.

He fell into a short silence as he racked his brain for a plan. Despite the pain he knew it would cause, he grabbed his glasses from the pocket on his shirt and put them on. As soon as he did so, the world came into view clearly and exploded around him as his eyes absorbed all the information his surroundings had to offer. It knocked him back a few inches as if he'd been physically hit, but at least he'd learned to stay on his feet when the overstretched rubber band snapped.

"Alright...the ladder residing in that alleyway to our two o'clock leads straight to the roof. It's only three stories up, but if one of us climbs that ladder to the top we will have a clear view of a three block radius. They will see us up there and if we cannot find them, then they will come to us. I will climb to the top and take up an observation post." He smirked slightly and crossed his arms. "It technically was your idea, was it not?"

Almost frantically, Parker said imploringly, "Yes, it was my idea, but only for [i]me[i] to be the one out in the open. You may be smarter than me, but I do still have eyes, you know. If they're near, I'll notice just fine." He unzipped the pocket of his coat, taking out the orange bottle of pills. Unscrewing the cap, he knocked out a couple of the blue capsules. "I'm the one who's designed for the whole "getting shot" sort of thing. If I need you, I'll call you up. Otherwise, stay here and be a good boy, okay?" Swallowing the pills, wishing that he had remembered to bring a bottle of water in his haste, he headed towards the ladder. As he got closer, he safely stashed the bottle back into his coat.

Sebastien cursed under his breath and glared at Parker's retreating form. "Just because you have the healing abilities doesn't mean you have to be the one in danger." It was a selfish thought that was probably only brought on by his annoyance, but if he knew Parker would have the ability to heal himself, then was there really a point for him to have joined in the first place? As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he already knew the answer to that and wanted to kick himself in the ass for even thinking such thoughts. They had been together, stuck life glue since they had met in the second grade and there was no way he could allow Parker to go to war without him doing so as well; that sounded eerily like the Vietnam War to Sebastien, as the rich, smart college students stayed behind while the lesser fortunate had to fight a war that wasn't theirs to fight.

He slowly walked towards the alley to get a better view as Parker begun his ascent to the top. "Don't fall because I'm not carrying your ass back," he yelled at him, only half joking.

"Don't jinx me!" Parker hissed back down, glaring down at him. He immediately regretted looking down, as the vertigo rushed to his head. One hand, becoming clammy, slipped on the rusted metal of the ladder; barely refraining from letting loose a shriek, both of his arms lashed out in order to wrap around it. As he felt himself become sure of his balance once more, he heaved a sigh. Yes, he would have healed after a few minutes, but that didn't mean he exactly liked the idea of landing on the cement below. And yes, he was barely ten feet in the air, but what if he hit his head? "From now on, just be freaking quiet when I'm trying to do something like this, 'aight?"
Huffing, he continued his ascent--more successfully--until he planted both feet firmly on the rooftop. From up there, he could see the bustling city below. The streetlights flickered, cars shadowed each other as they sped past, and on the neighboring sidewalk, a few pedestrians could be seen stumbling home. He eyed them carefully, but ultimately decided that the middle-aged woman in a parka and the drunken businessmen were not genuine threats tonight. Moving carefully to the edge, he said to Sebastien, "I don't see anything unusual. You still don't sense anything?"

"I've got nothing," Sebastien said as he looked around. As his eyes fell upon certain objects, his eyes saw something that could be compared to an invisible matrix of numbers and letters as they calculated in his mind. The ominous shadows that were cast on the other side of the windows as people passed by were observed to make sure their postures didn't pose a threat, empty alleyways were surveyed to make certain there were no possibilities of other hidden in them, observing vantage points that assailants could use to their advantages to attack unnoticed, etc. The world was nothing more than a large mathematical problem to him and it was up to him to solve it. Once his mind was truly put to work, the pains dissipated drastically since he had bigger things to focus on.

After taking one look at the top to make sure Parker made it to the top safely, he walked to the mouth of the alley and leaned against the wall before pulling out a smoke from his worn brown leather jacket. He usually wasn't the type of person to condone the use of drugs and other substance, but the nicotine helped calm his nerves. Once the cigarette was lit, he took one inhale of it before instinct warned him to look down the street.

Just as he looked, a figure wearing a dirty, ragged long coat rounded the corner and was walking straight for him. The figure looked innocent enough, but someone told Sebastien to keep an eye on the figure as it approached, so he did. Though he tried not to, he stood up straight as his own body tensed as he saw noted the tension in the shoulders of the person, knowing that they were a loaded gun about to shoot.

The seemingly homeless individual stopped just in front of Sebastien and looked him directly in the eye; definitely the eyes of deceit. "Could you spare a smoke, friend?"

It took a moment for Sebastien to respond, since he was practically in a comatose state as his mind kept reeling in the information of the current situation presented. His training had taught him what to do and could perform his duty near flawlessly, but upon seeing his first target while on the job it was too surreal. Everything seemed to be happening too fast yet in slow motion at the same time.

"Sure," he finally said as he slowly reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, never taking his eyes off the intruder. "Do you have a light?" Just as his hand grasped the handle of his specially made trench knife, the assailant seemed to notice what he was doing and raised his hand to strike at his chest. Not knowing what type of power he possessed, Sebastien jumped back as far as he could to prevent contact with the hand, slamming his back harshly into the wall as he struggled to get the knife out of his coat pocket.

"Parker!" Just as Sebastien was about to strike, the assailant tried grabbing at his throat and he shoved off the wall to roll to the side of him. As he pushed himself up with the momentum of his feet, he slashed at him, but when he made contact with the blade it came back partially melted. "What the...?"

Upon hearing his partner's cry, Parker rushed down the ladder. At the end of the alleyway, he could see Sebastien and a homeless-looking man facing each other off. Deliberately, he shouted out, "Sebastien, are you okay?"
Immediately, the man yanked his head around; his arm then lifted, one finger on the trigger of his revolver. Though shaky, it remained aimed at Parker, who gave pause about five yards from the two. He then looked back at Sebastien, and said, "You must have had some sort of power to know what I am. So what about your friend here, huh? What can he do? I'm assuming he can't dodge a bullet."
He then smirked, and in one fluid motion, fired.
The bullet sunk into flesh, and Parker released a hiss of pain as he looked down at his stomach. Blood oozed from the wound, soaking through his coat until it began to dribble onto the ground.
"That was just a warning shot. Now--what?" The man's eyes widened as he watched Parker take off his coat calmly, reaching through the tear in his shirt in order to dig his fingers into the wound. Though it was true that he could heal, bullets could be rather tricky in the future; his skin healed, but he couldn't just allow the bullet to stay in there and make a new home out of his intestines, now could he?
"And there we go," said Parker cheerfully as he flicked the bullet onto the ground. He then looked back at the man, smiling. "I've been waiting to meet one of you for so long! And here you are! It's my third biggest dream come true!" He reached for the holster on his hip, taking out the semi-automatic pistol. "But I'm afraid I'm not here to make friends. What's that phrase? 'Shoot first, ask questions later?' Yes, that's what my superiors expect of me."
He fumbled with the gun, brow furrowed in confusion.
"What, boy? Don't know how to use a gun?"
"Sebastien, how do you turn the safety off again?" Parker sighed.

"How did you graduate from training again?" Sebastien said, shaking his head. The guy raised his gun to shoot Parker again, but wasn't going to allow it; just because he could heal didn't mean he wanted to see his friend in pain. He threw his knife to the ground and reached into the back of his jacket to pull his own gun from his holster, taking aim. Now that he had the advantage over him and the guy lined up in his sights, he didn't know if he could take the shot. Utilizing your abilities was one thing, but he honestly didn't know if he was capable of murder; wasn't that part of his job description now, though?

"Drop your weapon or I will blow a hole through the back of your skull!" he said in a demanding tone, gripping the gun with both hands to steady the aim; hopefully he didn't notice the shaking in his hands. "Drop the gun...drop the gun... There had never been a prisoner taken into custody before, but had the DEA even attempted to capture one alive?

The man only grinned, the expression almost feral. He then said, "Drop my weapon? Boy, it's just as your friend said. 'Shoot first, ask questions later.'" He lined up Sebastien in his sights once more, finger itching to pull the trigger again. "Your incompetent partner doesn't know how to properly wield a gun and you are too cowardly to pull the trigger on yours, so I suppose it's my responsibility to take matters into my own hands. I wish you the best of luck in your next life."
Just as he was about to fire, there was a flash of pain and then darkness.
The corpse collapsed first onto his knees, and then fell to the side. Half of his head was just gone, the brain matter splattered on the ground and on the nearby walls. The other half was contorted into an agonized expression, eyes wide and jaw hanging open, as if the man was still in shock even after having lost awareness.
"Are you okay, Sebastien?" Parker asked, rushing to his partner's side. Hastily, he checked for injuries, but thankfully, he found none. He then sighed and, before Sebastien had the chance to answer the first question, he inquired, "What happened? Why didn't you shoot him? He was going to shoot you, and you've never been the type to freeze up before. He would've killed you, Sebastien!"

Time seemed to freeze when the gun was trained on Sebastien, but he could find it in himself to pull the trigger to save his life...quite literally. The only thing he could do was stare into the eyes of the man knowing that he had every intention of killing him because the look in his eyes and the taut finger on the trigger had told him so. The loud pop of a gun going off made my heart freeze in my chest and even as he noted the half-missing face of the man, he thought that he'd been shot himself.

As Parker rushed to his side, he didn't hear a word that came out of his mouth but read his lips, getting the general concept. Could he really admit that he had been too much of a coward to pull the trigger? Didn't that make him a liability and a danger to everyone on his team? If that gun had been aimed at Parker's head, would he have found the courage within himself to pull the trigger to save his best friend's life?

"You were that close to death, Sebastien...your life ending at the end of that barrel...and you froze."

The ringing in his ears of the blood rushing through them was beginning to fade as he took his time putting the gun back in its holster. Finally, he looked Parker in the eye and gave a grim smile. "I had faith that you would pull through in the end. It would have been selfish of me to not let you have the first kill since you wanted it so bad." Even Sebastien could hear the lie in his voice despite his mind screaming at him to believe the words. He quickly adverted his gaze, not able to stand the look Parker was giving. Still shell-shocked from the experience, Sebastien turned away from him in a daze.

Parker considered Sebastien's words for a moment. He knew that Sebastien was lying; that dazed look in his eyes told him everything, considering that he still had his glasses on. Finally, though, he sighed and said, "Should we just head back to base now? Tell them it's done?" Perhaps it wouldn't be wise to push Sebastien about it--he already thought more than necessary, after all. It didn't mean that Parker didn't plan on eventually asking him about it, though; he trusted Sebastien more than anyone else, but he wouldn't be going on another mission with him until he was certain that he wouldn't just throw his life away on a whim like that.

"Yes, let's head back. There's no need sticking around." Without waiting to see if Parker followed, he started making his way back towards the base. He took off his glasses and shoved them in the shirt pocket. He was thankful for the blurry haze that shrouded his vision. Almost immediately, the thoughts begun to slow down and became a dull presence in the back of his mind. The fact that he almost died also seemed to numb the thoughts as well.

Once they were back at base, they turned in their mission report with Sebastien giving as few details as needed to their commander. They had passed their first test, which had served as an initiation into the department officially and as a token, they gave each agent a personal DEA patch that said they were tried and true in combat. Once they had finished the mission report, they turned on their heel to leave.

"Kemp, mind staying in my office for a moment?" Commander Jones said. From his peripheral he could see him standing and Sebastien mentally cursed.

He pivoted on his heel and turned around, standing at attention as he stared at the wall in front of him, staring just above the commander's head. "Sir."

Jones stared at him for the longest, no doubt gauging Sebastien's expressions. He's been in this business for eleven years now, almost since the beginning of when this crisis had begun. "Your mission report was quite empty for someone who is so calculative," he begun. "In training, your reports were equal to that of a college thesis."

"Is there a problem with that, sir?" Sebastien asked. A cold sweat had broken out on his forehead and he wanted to swat at the trickle of sweat that tickled his temple but refrained from doing so.

He paused for a moment. "Look at me, Kemp."

With a deep breath, Sebastien finally made eye contact with him.

"Did the mission go according to plan as the reports suggest?" Jones asked, his tone growing more serious.

"Yes, sir; the mission was a full success with no setbacks." It was hard to look him in the eye without saying more; he wasn't lying, but he wasn't telling the exact truth, either.

"Did something happen that should be brought to light, agent?"

"No, sir. The reports were-"

"I can tell you are hiding something and you will not be permitted to leave this room until you speak."

He felt backed into a corner and honestly didn't know what to say. This was the biggest worry he thought of when he first walked into this room and had to say something to throw him off from his cowardice for the fear that he would be kicked from the department for not being able to perform his duties accordingly. So he said the first thing that came to mind. "It was just shocking experience, is all. Seeing the blood and the head blown apart...it was something that I had only seen in movies and wasn't prepared to witness for myself. Training hadn't taught us that aspect of the fight, sir."

To his relief, Jones nodded his head as if he believed that story and seemed to relax. "That is to be expected on your first kill. Just remember, though, the first kill is always the most difficult. This is war, and no one ever said that it was pretty."

"Yes, sir."

"It will become a normal occurrence to you soon enough. Just remember, the more blood of theirs that you see means the less blood of your own men. You are dismissed."

"Sir." Sebastien waited until he was outside the building until he released the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Sweat had thoroughly soaked into his shirt and he had to pull the leather jacket off to cool himself. God, what would have happened if he'd learned that he completely froze up in combat? Would they have simply kicked him out or would they have done worse? There were stories that circulated about what happened to defected agents and he wasn't bound to find out if any of the rumors were true...

"Hey" came the voice of nick, whom was just run into.

"Man, you knocked over my papers"

The papers he was now just barely holding in the air with an invincible force.
Slowly the pages flow into his hand as though attached by strings that could not be seen even though the motion seemed fluid, he was now frantically putting them all back in order and mumbling things like "Sarge is gunna kill me for this!" and "If anyone could find someone with a description like he's the guy that can heal quickly."

After searching a good minute he finds the paper he's looking for, after a moment of thinking he turns towards his "Assailant".

"Do you know a man that goes by Parker Morton? By any chance, supposedly he has the ability to heal quickly.