Looking Bach 2
You will never look back.
You look in the mirror and see a monster. Eyes without life, hair finally growing back on your head that barely covers the surgery, and the strange patterned skin. What will they think? What will they do? you ask yourself. You wonder how you will explain it. It doesn’t matter.
This is the person you were; bullet holes and radical surgery, actions without thought or consideration, and death shadowing your every move. You were named Bach because you had a gift at weaving together information and treachery, a gift you utilized until recently. Now you call yourself Tomás de Victoria.
Your smartlink still searches for your pistol. You left it behind.
K-10 still sits calmly in a vial somewhere in your chest.
You still see them die when you close your eyes.
But you are different now.
You knock on their door, wondering what they will say, wondering what she will say. You are in Vancouver, where she lives. You shuffle your feet awkwardly, and practice smiling. It has been a while since you smiled.
She opens the door. Penelope is beautiful, as beautiful as when you married her, though now you are hideous. She looks at you with shock, wonder, amazement, horror, love, relief. You don’t know what to say.
“Tomás! You’re, you’re standing here… I thought… my God, what happened?” Even though she questions it, even though she is frightened of you, she still walks forward and holds you. You hold her and close your eyes. Across your vision, blood splatters and people die, but holding her gives you a moment’s pause.
“Penelope, my dear… I wish I knew where to start.”
“What happened to your skin?”
“I believe that I died and was brought back by a… very strange doctor. It’s a long story, and one I don’t believe you want to hear. But now, I’m back, and Wolfe is gone. You were right about him.” Penelope cries and hugs you. You still don’t know what to say.
“Don’t ever leave me again, God damnit Tomás, you asshole! God damnit. What happened to you?”
You look at her and wonder what to tell her, what to say. You imagine this will be your life for many years.
“All I can say is that I’ll never back. Not on the last two weeks. I’ll never look back.”