"Then... then let me tell you," he murmured. "I think I already told you I have brain damage. It's from something that's called a TBI. Traumatic Brain Injury. I've got scars - my hair's long enough to hide them. Barely. But they came from..."

It hit like a wave, like it always did - but it was a wave he knew too damned well, so he was able to close his eyes and let it wash over him. The voice, the hand, that strange feeling that still tied itself around the very core of who he was and pulled...

"I..." Mike shook his head slowly. "I volunteered for it."