To Be A Killer

Chapter 59: Colors

He looks so different.

That's the first thing I realized when I saw the photos. I've looked at them a dozen more times since then, but still, that's the first thing that pops from the picture.

Simon's not wearing his mask anymore, but the places that the mask covered... it doesn't have human skin. It's hard to tell, but it looks like he has scales over half of his face now, and his missing hand is back. It's also covered in scales... I guess they found what they were looking for then.

Amelia still looks the same, although I really couldn't care less about her. My thoughts are only on Simon, and if now that he's gotten what he wanted, he'll come back.

Probably not. Most of the people in Abel still hate him for betraying us to Van Ark. Simon knows they wouldn't welcome him back with open arms, even though I know I would.

I'm not exactly proud of myself for knowing that, but there's no point in trying to deny it.

Chances are I won't ever see him again, and if I do-well, it'll have to be because of something really important. And even then there's a chance I won't see him.

"Is there a reason you wanted to go through all these pictures, again, in the coms shack and not in the dorms?" Sam asks in annoyance.

"If you don't want to be here, you can just leave," I respond, not looking up from the photos. I almost smile at seeing one of Simon playing cards with Trevor, and by the look on his face, is losing terribly.

"You know I can't leave you in here alone. Janine will have my arse if I do."

"As if she doesn't lecture you enough already," I joke, and he scoffs.

"Right? But seriously, why here? If you're hiding from your kids, you should know they'll be in here eventually."

"I'm not hiding from my kids. I'm hiding from Moonchild."

There's a pause. "Moonchild? What's she done to you?"

I shrug, finally looking up. "I mean, she hasn't really done anything really, besides make me feel uncomfortable-"

"That's something." He sits up straighter in his swivel chair, eyebrows furrowing in concern. "What's she done to make you feel uncomfortable?"

I shrug again, not meeting his eyes. "She's just... pushy. She wants to know everything about me a-and she keeps offering me her tea, and I don't want to be rude, but I don't like hot tea. I'm American. I like my tea cold."

"That's just you being weird."

"Shut up. And she... wants to know about my feelings and my past and all that, as if-as if we're friends or something."

"Maybe she thinks you are friends."

"Just because she thinks that doesn't mean we are. I've known you for two years and there are still things I haven't told you about."

He raises a brow. "Like what?"

"Nice try." I smirk, and he gives me an eye roll in reply. "But there's something about her... she just makes me feel uneasy."

"Have you had any visions about her?"

I shake my head. "Nothing I can remember."

"Well, maybe she's just one of those people. I mean, she is a little odd with her whole 'peace, love, and harmony' thing. Maybe that's just... not your thing."

Sweet Sam, always trying to find the positive in everything.

"Yeah, maybe," I say, looking down at the photos. "Uh... thank you, by the way, for not telling Maxine and Paula about me while we were on that mission."