It had been a stressful case, you had ended up getting hurt pretty badly and everyone was taking sympathy on you but all you wanted to do was get home and cry while other people were telling you that it was normal, being an FBI agent. You sat in one of the seats at the back of the plane, looking out the window trying not to cry.

“Wanna talk about it?” Luke said, placing a drink of whiskey in front of you while sitting opposite you, also looking out the window.