I know what you're thinking. That wasn't my body Jeff found. I never died fighting Big Blue in some blaze of glory. Hell, halfway through saying goodbye to Jean I could already hear that voice in the back of my head. By the time I actually saw Big Blue, I was in Bumfuck Nowhere, Iowa, with orders to kill some poor kid who went on the run. The choice was out of my hands. Brained him, took his food and water, started headed back to my place via bus. No police tape, no potholes in the ground, the house itself was in perfect shape. I must've hallucinated pretty badly during that time. There's barely any trace Nessa was even there.
Look, this is pretty much how things are: He's got his claws in me, so to speak. No isn't an option anymore. So I'm going to memoralize the people I end up killing. They deserve better than what they're getting, at least this way part of my conscience will shut up.
Time to put my nose to the grindstone.