[Before Marina, Reid always thought that he'd pulled a pretty short straw in life. There were plenty who had it worse, of course, and he wasn't feeling sorry for himself in the least - but you still couldn't deny that he'd had some pretty bad luck with a lot of things. From his mother's schizophrenia to his own dilaudid addiction to... well. Anthrax. There had been a lot.
And then Marina happened and suddenly he couldn't think of himself as anything but lucky. Had he met anyone yet that just lead a relatively average life? Mutant child assassins. Men his own age that looked perfectly average until you learned that they hunted monsters for a living. Abused kids who inherited the position as Britain's secret executioner. A whole group of people fighting monsters that were once the souls of the dead.
And now, the Slayer. Yeah, he'd never complain about his line of work ever again.]
That's... rough. [C'mon Reid, you have more to say than that.] When I was sixteen, the only thing I had to worry about was finishing up my dissertation.