Agent Marshall

No problem.

Gordon gives him a thumbs up while Blanchard adds, we're on it.

Marshall enters the bathroom, closes and locks the door, then rests his hands on the sink as he takes several deep breaths.

Yes, he's the son of one of the foundation's most prominent research doctors.

Most of his colleagues see that as making him lucky.

For Marshall, it's a nightmare.

He looks in the mirror, recalling the phone conversation he and his mother had just before he headed to Bellamy with his team.

You need to get over your childhood fears, Graham, his mother had said.

You need to put those dreams behind you and move on.

They weren't dreams, they were nightmares, Marshall snapped.

And I barely slept for most of my teen years.

I am well aware.

My sleep was disturbed almost as much as yours.

Not even close, mother.

Oh, grow up, Grant.

You are a Foundation field agent.

If you can't handle what lurks in your own mind, how can you handle all the nightmares that lurk out there in the field?

They will eat you alive.

Some literally.

I can handle myself fine, Mother.