Karlos Krap

The cheers and boos could still be heard as he walked behind the curtain for the last time. A chorus of “Great job,” or “We’ll miss you,” was heard as he made his way further past the gorilla position. While there was nothing more he wanted to do other than shower and get some well deserved rest, duty still called. There were a few final things that needed to be done before he could call it a day.

A quick kiss to his girl and he was off again, heading over to where he’d be doing an exclusive video for the company’s website.

******

He was furious. He was livid. He was every other word that you could think of in the category of angry. He paced as the camera crew approached him, flipping a table topped with water bottles over as they reached him.

“Karlos, could we possibly get a few words?”

The now former employee of the company stopped in his tracks and stared at the man behind the camera. “I just got fired and you want a few words?!” The man’s famous Latin temper was in full force after the match results. “Do you want me to say that I’m thrilled to have had my contract revoked by the likes of Austin Blake?! Do you want me to say it was a great match?! That I’m happy to have lost to him?! Well I’m not going to say any of that! I’m not—” He stopped midsentence. When it came to Karlos at this moment the phrase “if looks could kill” couldn’t even come close to describing the aura given off in this situation.

Down the hall was Austin, leaning against a crate with a towel over his shoulder and a bottle of water in his hand. While just as tired as Karlos his demeanor couldn’t have been more different. He stood there with a somber look on his face. But Karlos didn’t care, his blood was boiling and all he saw was red. The six foot two man stormed over to where his former “rookie” stood, camera crew not far behind, and slapped the water bottle out of the younger man’s hand so to ensure that all attention was on himself before he spoke. “How dare you?! What do you think gave you the right to fire me?! My career in this company has been longer than your entire career! What gives you any right to fire a veteran like me?!”

The somber look never once left Austin’s face as Karlos went on his verbal tirade. “I was drinking that,” were the first words to leave Austin’s mouth as Karlos took a pause.

The simple phrase dumbfounded Karlos but only seemed to add fuel to the fire as he continued his yelling. “Does it look like I care?! My career is more important than what you’re drinking or not!”

A small group of other wrestlers and personnel began to gather as the man from Chicago sighed. “You want to know what gave me the right to fire you? This.” He picked up a small stack of papers that were on the crate he was leaning against. “I won your contract a month ago, I hold your contract and can end it whenever I want. And I did just that tonight. If you had ever valued your contract or your career you would have never said ‘I quit’ that’s what cost you your contract. Like I said out there, you don’t deserve to work in this company.” And with that Austin began tearing up the now void contract of Karlos Charisma.

If Karlos had been furious before there were now no words to describe his state. The brown-eyed man lunged at his former tag team partner, wanting to tear him limb from limb. Unfortunately for Karlos he didn’t so much as get to touch Austin, the group of wrestlers and personnel managed to intervene and grab hold of the Latin man before he got a chance to do any sort of damage. With two men on each side of him there was little the six-two man could do. But the somber look never once left the green-eyed man’s face as he was keep in place by some other wrestlers and personnel, watching as the man he once considered a mentor struggled, kicked, and screamed as he was dragged off back to the locker rooms.

******

The cameras stopped rolling and a storm of applause and cheers broke out in the backstage area.

Another chorus of “Great job,” or “We’ll miss you,” was heard as Carlos, Chris and Randy (two of the four men that had dragged Carlos toward the locker rooms) all walked back to where the crowd was gathered, arms around each others’ shoulders and laughing like the good friends they were. Once with the others the duo formerly known as Armageddon bowed dramatically as was their custom, laughing hysterically as they did, Randy just shook his head at the two.

“Man, I can’t believe you’re actually gonna be leaving!” Chris said, pulling the man he considered a brother into an embrace.

Hugging back the Mexican replied, “It’s just that time, hermano.”

“Gah, why do you have to be so old?”

“Why’d you get so much time off?” Their bantering would have continued had someone not interrupted, the two could easily get lost in banter if left on their own.

The West Coast native turned his attention to those gathered for his final moment, taking a deep breath before speaking, “Guys, thank you all for being a part of a great farewell and an even better career. I really wouldn’t have been able to do any of it without help. My contract actually expired a few days ago but I signed a temporary contract that got me this far and officially expires at midnight tonight, so I’ll just be hanging around sharing the last bit of knowledge that I’ve got for the rest of the night.”

A few chuckles were heard before a mahogany haired woman stepped out from the crowd and toward Carlos. Turning back toward those gathered she winked as she wrapped her arms around the man. “But after that, he’s all mine.” Chuckles turned into cat-calls as the two shared a kiss.

“Alright, alright, go get a room you two.” Chris was one of the few people that could get away with saying certain things to and about Carlos. “Honestly, you date Rocio then breakup with her then get back together and have her as your secret girlfriend then you’re all out in the open again. I will never know what you’re up to next.”

“No one knows what I’ll do next.” Carlos laughed, throwing his arm back around his oldest friend.

“But now’s not the time to get into detail, I need to shower.”

“Damn right you do, you stink.”

The crowd shared a laugh and would then say their goodbyes as they started to head their separate ways to continue their work for the night. As the crowd dispersed the man from SoCal would notice the absence of his match opponent. Turning to the former burlesque dancer he'd say, "Go hang out the girls, I'm gonna go shower and see if I can find Austin."

“Okay, I’ll meet you in catering later.”

******

The locker room was void of the man Carlos was looking for but as always full of others either getting ready for their spot in the show or winding down afterwards. With a nod at the guys there the brown-eyed man walked to his belongings, grabbing a change of clothes and a towel, ready for a relaxing shower.

******

The rest of the night went off without a hitch, then again most nights did. The company was a well oiled machine with every person playing their part that was the beauty and tragedy of it all. Whether a part needed replacing or not there were always spares ready, willing, and able to take their place and unless it was one of the bigger or more important parts of the show people wouldn't even bat an eyelash. But that's how it was and Carlos knew this. After twenty-two years in the business he knew what to expect when his time came.

The man from California hadn't wanted the pomp and circumstance celebrations like others had gotten, hell he wouldn't have even expected it if he had gotten it. He wasn't a big name guy but considering how long he'd been around and how loyal he'd been for the past fourteen years he was respected by virtually everyone. His retirement party was small and intimate and full of confusion. At only thirty-six, due to turn thirty-seven by the end of September, many would argue that he was still in the prime of his life and has plenty left in the tank for more years of work but here, barely a month removed from their biggest show, he was walking away.

No one knew why he was doing it and no one truly bought his excuse of wanting to walk away while he still could to start a family.

Not even Rocio believed him.

Of all the people outside of Carlos' family Rocio was one of the few that truly knew what the business meant to him. The business was in his blood and it was something he lived for. And because of that he wouldn't walk away just like that. Rocio knew what the six foot two man was capable of when it came to staying in the business. Though completely unintentional Carlos had caused Rocio's career to end before its time after he had called things off with her in order to focus on his career and the major push he was about to receive. This act had shake up the mahogany haired woman so much that she could not focus during her match that night and she ended up making a mistake that would put her on the shelf for a year during which she reflected on her career and decided that her time on the big stage was over.

But the fact remains, Carlos had broken things off with the woman he loved just to maintain focus on his career.

******

“Yo.”

“Hey.”

Carlos scoffed as he walked further into the locker room and taking a seat on the bench next to the man he had his final match against. The younger man was still in his ring gear. “Oh lighten up, will you?!” The now former Superstar up his hand on Austin’s shoulder, giving the younger man a light shake before continuing, “It’s over and done. I do not want to see you moping around over this. It was my choice to retire, my choice to have it be tonight, my choice as to how, and my choice to have it be you to retire me. You know you could have said no if you didn’t want to do it, but you didn’t, so I swear if you get depressed or some shit like that I will come back and beat the crap out of you.”

“Please, you’re way too old to beat the crap out of anyone now.” Austin had let a small smile replace the somber look that was previously on his face.

“You wanna bet on that?” The man from Los Angeles stood up and looked down at the man from Chicago.

The man from Chi-Town stood up to face the man from the City of Angels, chest out as he stood his full height. With an exhale the man slouched a bit. “Nah.”

The two men shared a laugh. “Lame, you’re no fun at all.”

“Pfft. You’re no fun, you’re the one leaving this great circus after all.”

“I’ve spent enough time in this circus to last a life time.” Carlos gave a glance to the locker room before throwing the last of his items into his suitcase. “Now it’s your turn dude. Enjoy the ride and try not to get fired.”

“Easier said than done, bro.”

“Well you better try otherwise I’ll still have the boss on my ass. Now get your ass dressed and back on the road, you’ve got shows to do.”

Austin rolled his eyes. “And if I remember correctly, you’ve got a plane to catch and your girl waiting for you. So stop making her wait.”

“So you’re kicking me out of here now?” Bag now zipped shut Carlos pulled out its handle and set it on the floor. “I see how it is. Fine, fine, I’ll go. Just remember, I know your schedule and where you live! I’ll get you back for kicking me out.”

“Oh lower the drama, old man and get on with your retirement.”

“Yeah, alright, I’ll see you around, Rookie.”

“Later, Sensei.”

******

"Hey, Doc."

"Carlos." The company’s physician looked up from a list of the nights injuries as the soon to be former employee walked into the trainer’s office. "Of all the finishes possible you go with one centered on your back? You want me to get in trouble or something?"

"Of course not, but what better way to sell the pain than when you’re actually in pain? The best sells always hurt." Carlos gave a shrug, it was a saying he’d lived by his entire career and this night was no different.

"If the boss doesn't kill me Rocio definitely will. I can't believe I let you talk me into keeping this from the both of them for this long. The boss will kill me for letting one of his best talents get away on such a bad note and your girl will do it for me giving you the clearance to perform in such bad shape."

"Hey, what's done is done. I just want a final evaluation before sailing off into retirement. Then you can tell the boss my real reason for leaving."

The good doctor shook his head at what he’d have to tell the boss. “Alright, turn around.”

******

He stood by the curtain, watching as the night’s crowd began to file out of the arena and as the crew immediately made their way out to the ring to begin tearing it and the set down. He seemed and ordinary man dressed in ordinary clothes: a pair of denim jeans, a graphic t-shirt, a pair of sneakers, and a knitted beanie. This man seemed tall, somewhere around six-two, and had a muscular frame yet earlier in the night he had not appeared as tall or as well built as he as next to others who were both taller and more defined than he. But it is not to say that this man was one to blend into the crowd. While his worn jeans and sneakers did little to help distinguish the man his printed t-shirt and signature beanie both played a part in showcasing him. The shirt designed with the words “Sexy” and “Charisma” in its center while the beanie carried the initials “KC.” Under this beanie the man’s dark curls began to redefine themselves as they dried. His deep brown eyes followed the crew members as they walked back and forth passed him, the tan skin under his left eye now showing signs of a bruise from a hit earlier in the night. The man stood there a bit longer, rubbing his relatively well-trimmed facial hair once more before letting the same right hand fall onto the handle of his suitcase, grasping it firmly as he let a somber yet content sign escape his lips. He turned away from the stage and toward the arena’s indoor parking lot. This was his goodbye.

******

The week that followed Carlos Belmonte’s final night as a big time professional wrestler was a trying week. The morning after Carlos found himself in a haze, he was somewhere between knowing where he was and thinking he was somewhere else. At around six fifteen in the morning he’d made his way out of Rocio’s Las Vegas home and into the garage that held a few pieces of workout equipment, a routine he’d developed during his time on the road. Rocio had woken up thirty minutes later and found him lost in his workout, after diverting his attention from his workout to her she realized that he hadn’t even realized what he’d been doing. After almost fourteen straight years of working on the road he hadn’t been able transition into retirement. Even with the days off he’d had this hadn’t happened, but that was likely because he knew he had to get rested up before the next loop of shows.

Retirement was a whole new experience.

On the second day of his retirement the same thing happened again. At six fifteen in the morning he woke up and went into the garage for a morning workout, at six forty-five Rocio found him there. He knew where he was but the routine he’d built was making him do this. That evening Rocio suggested he get a workout in after closing up the school, maybe like that he’d be able to sleep in and not worry about “having to get a workout in before the show the next night.” It was a routine he had to learn to break, he was retired now and didn’t have to worry about looking his best or getting a workout in before the show or having to return a car and rent a new one to drive to the next city. There was no more loop. And Rocio’s suggestion seemed to work. On the third morning of his retirement Carlos slept in until almost eight in the morning, an improvement to say the least. The fact that Carlos was spending most of his days at the school also seemed to help.

As he walked through the hallway from the main entrance and into the warehouse on the first day everything seemed different. What exactly made it seem different he couldn’t tell you, there was nothing new about the 15,000 square foot warehouse, he’d been in there plenty of times before his retirement. Hell it was half his. Leaning on the door frame he looked about the building with a new appreciation. The metal on the door frame was cool as he leaned against it, the air conditioning was on like most summer days, and as he looked out into the warehouse it was emptier than normal as the steel chairs were stored away properly in the large cabinet to his right. Only two of the worn, blue gymnastics mats were set out in front of the ring. Their ring. It stood eighteen by eighteen feet in the center of the large warehouse, its green and tan cords stretched tight, the dark green apron hanging loosely to cover the ring’s under workings. The black turnbuckle pads and off-white ring mat being set out and laced by that day’s crop of early arrivals. After twenty-two years in the business and five years owning this ring it had never looked more inviting. But that would have to wait until later, his time was over and students were waiting.

******

It’s not that he was out of shape at three months into his retirement but he just hadn’t taken any real time to step back into the ring. Today though it was early and Matt, so far the most promising student, had stopped by to catch some practice before his first class at the University. Being the only two there Carlos saw no harm in getting into the ring with this pupil. That’s why there were there anyways, to learn and to teach.

At a little less than ten minutes in Carlos began to feel winded, three months couldn’t have done all of that, could it?

Then again, feeling winded wasn’t the only problem.

He had felt it all through the training, that little nagging pain, but when Matt had him in a surfboard hold Carlos began to feel that utterly familiar pain like he had during his final match when he had been wrapped around the ring post. He had been stretched and stretched by his former “rookie,” his back aching with a now familiar pain. Carlos had been bent in a way that a human’s back shouldn’t have been bent. All that night his back had been tortured: rammed into posts and aprons, stepped on and stretched. But it had not hurt more than when he was wrapped around the ring post. The fans didn’t know how much it really hurt and neither did his opponent.

And now was no different.

Carlos always trained and taught in the style he knew, still living by the saying that the best sells hurt. So not one of the students could tell that something was wrong with their trainer when they stepped into the ring with him, they all just praised his abilities and admired his selling. To the untrained eye it really did look like he was selling the pain like the best of them but to those who knew better it was clear that something wasn’t right.

At thirty minutes to eight Rocio interrupted the two advising Matt that he’d better head out if he wanted to freshen up before going to class. She’d been there for the past fifteen minutes, watching Carlos with well trained eyes. The mahogany haired woman said nothing as her other half exited the squared circle with their student, clutching his back ever so slightly. One way or another she would find out what was wrong.

******

It was early morning, sometime around three when Carlos stepped back into the warehouse. Why he was even up at that hour he didn’t know, then again Las Vegas wasn’t exactly a city that slept. The bright lights high above flooded the large space at the flip of a switch, illuminating everything including the most important thing to him. The brown-eyed climbed up and wiped his feet on the ring apron before stepping through the ropes, grabbing hold of the top rope to stretch out his back. He winced. There was that pain again, but he pushed it to the back of his mind, it wasn’t anything that a little rope running couldn’t fix. A final stretch and he was off, bouncing back and forth between the ropes.

Carlos went at it for a good half hour trying his absolute hardest to ignore the pain and the thoughts of a possible surgery. He wasn’t one to get injured. No one in his family was. And to his knowledge not one of them had had to get surgery before either, why should he be the first?

The pain in his back was getting worse. He was strong, he could deal with it and no one would be the wiser.

******

She could see he was in pain. At this point they all could. But he was stubborn and short tempered. They all were. In the past few days it had gotten worse, that’s why she’d called in the reinforcements.

Rocio stood waiting in the Las Vegas airport, waiting for one of her “sisters-not-so-in-law” to come down the escalator and hopefully to the rescue. In less than five minutes the fourth Belmonte sibling descended down the escalator, her carry-on in tow as she hurried to meet with the woman she knew would eventually become a member of her family. After a quick hug the two were on their way out of the airport, the faster this situation got handled the better.

“I’m sorry to have pulled you away from everything but he just doesn’t want to hear it!” The blue-eyed woman sighed but continued to focus on the drive back to the school. “I asked Natalie to try and talk to him but it didn’t really do much to help.”

“Don’t worry about it. I spoke with Debby before I left and called ’Drea, we are beyond prepared to hold an intervention if we have to.”

“I really hope it doesn’t come to that.” In truth Rocio hadn’t even wanted to called Beatriz and pull her away from her family across the country, but when Natalie hadn’t been able to convince her younger brother to do anything to better his health Beatriz seemed to be the next best option. Considering Beatriz was also a retired wrestler, like Rocio herself and now Carlos, maybe she could talk some sense into her older brother.

The two women arrived at the Desert Side Wrestling School as Carlos was mid-lesson with their core group of students, Beatriz electing to stay back and watch from afar as her brother demonstrated how to perform and take a specific bump. And right on cue Carlos grimaced, pain visible on his face. The two women watched as he stepped aside and let two of the more advanced students take turns performing the move; he had a hand to his back almost immediately.

After a few more rounds Rocio called a break, instructing her students to exit the ring and allowing Beatriz to enter it and try to talk some sense into her brother.

“No estoy herido.” The conversation had been spoken in hushed tones so not to get the students involved as they sat stretching on the blue gym mats.

“Yeah, right, no seas idiota sabes que no estás bien. And are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Beatriz had her brown eyes narrowed at Carlos through her glasses; she knew he was full of it at the moment.

With his fist clenched the six foot two man repeated through gritted teeth, “I’m. Not. Hurt.”

Beatriz rolled her brown eyes at her brother, arms firmly crossed over her chest as she raised her voice for the students to hear. “Then prove it. You against me, right now.”

A buzz arose from the students on the mat as they sat up a little straighter, hoping to see a great demonstration from a talent pair of siblings.

“Fine.”

The bout had started simply, Beatriz purposely ignoring his back for the first part of the match making him think that she might not know exactly where he was hurting or how much it actually hurt him. But he got a little cocky during a suplex and as he lifted her up she saw how much it hurt him. That’s when the brown-eyed woman began to wear him down.

She began going after his back in an effort to make him break, and the best thing she could think of to end it was trapping him in a little thing she like to call Sedation, a hold that had won her plenty of matches. His arrms crossed straightjacket style and back arched. Her right knee was pressed into his back making him stretch further. He could only take it for so long. “ARGH! Alright, alright! Ya suéltame!”

Within seconds Beatriz released the hold she had on Carlos and threw herself backwards to give him some room. Rocio was instantly at his side to make sure he was alright.

“I knew you weren’t okay,” Rocio huffed. “Why didn’t you listen to me?”

“Get off my back already! It hurts enough without you riding me like this.” Beatriz almost laughed at his choice of words, how very appropriate, but she could tell that this event had hurt her brother’s pride and being the man he was something was about to go down.

The students that were previously on the edge of their seats all decided that class could be finished up another day and that this situation was best left to their instructors. Not one student wanted to be there if their teacher went off the deep end, his Latin temper famous even at the school.

Rocio was thankful that her students were smart enough to leave in that moment as it wouldn’t have been good for them to see either their teachers in a bad light. Her attention however was quickly drawn back to Carlos who was now lying on the mat, fists pounding the canvas. She was kneeling next to him as Beatriz sat against one of the rings corners. “Why didn’t you listen to me?”

Something about the blue-eyed woman repeating the question set him off and made him sit up, his back aching with the sudden movement. “Do you think I wanted this?! Do you think I want to be retired at thirty-seven?! I lost the greatest job in the world because of this?! I’d still be out there if it wasn’t for this injury!”

The mahogany haired woman flinched at the sudden outburst but retaliated easily. “And I wanted to be retired at twenty-nine?! How do you think I felt after I broke my neck?! A year of my career was immediately sent down the drain! A whole year! What are a couple of weeks or months compared to a year?! You could still have had a shot at going back I was done for, I would have almost been thirty-one by the time I got back into ring shape, do you think they would have wanted me at thirty-one when they could pick up a twenty-something year old? Men have a longer shelf life and you know it. You could have been healed and back in the ring by now if you’d taken care of this earlier!”

“I didn’t want to be a washed up has-been grasping onto scraps of fame after a surgery that would put me on the shelf for months! Months that would have been filled up with new talent!”

Beatriz, who had remained quiet during both outbursts snorted, “Oh please, don’t go all self-conscious on me, you’re as talented as any of the younger guys that get brought up! Hell, you’re more talented than a lot of them.”

Carlos eyed his younger sister with anger. “Who are you to have a say in this, you walked away from the business of your own choice!”

“Don’t start yelling at me.” Short tempers were a genetic trait of the Belmonte family. “I walked away to take care of my family, you walked away to take care of your pride. Tu mugre orgullo de hombre.”

******

Pride.

It was one of the seven deadly sins, some even consider it the root of all other sins. It was definitely a root of this evil.

Carlos wasn’t proud of what is pride had led to, in all honesty he hated what his pride had led to. He hated where he was. He hated what he was doing at the moment, or rather hated what he wasn’t doing. For four weeks he had been back in California following a triple back surgery involving a discectomy, a foraminotomy, and a spinal fusion. He was tired and sore and just in an all around bad mood since he had agreed to take a consultation and subsequently agreed to have the triple back surgery. Twenty-two years of being in the business had taken its toll on his body and after almost a year of pushing this inevitable surgery to the back burner the damage to his spine was more than done.

Being confined to his California home began to take its toll on Carlos at around the three week mark with little more than physical therapy to occupy his mind in that time. His swimming pool was his only friend because even the Pacific Ocean, just across the street, was off limits to him. There was very little he was allowed to do, his four sisters each taking turns watching over his recovery and making sure he didn’t strain his back trying to do things he shouldn’t have been.

Rocio hardly visited, she didn’t want to see him at his lowest. In truth he didn’t want her to see him either. He wasn’t the same man. He was distant. He was cynical. He was pessimistic. He wasn’t the Carlos she loved. But that Carlos was still there, it was just a matter of recovery.

He hated where he was. He hated what he was doing at the moment, or rather hated what he wasn’t doing.

******

At six weeks he had made the trip from Los Angeles to Las Vegas. It was late November and he was officially six months into his retirement but more importantly it was Rocio’s birthday. After a quick trip to the LA Flower Market and something over fifty dollars later Carlos and Natalie were on their way back to Vegas.

The four hour drive was relatively quiet, Natalie could see her brother returning to the man he was before but he wasn’t there yet and she wasn’t going to push it. Natalie loved all of her sibling but everyone had a special place for Carlos, he was the only boy among four girls and he protected them all like his life depended on it, it was only fair that they do the same for him. They all knew he hadn’t wanted the surgery but in the end it would be the best option.

The second Belmonte child dropped off her brother at Rocio’s house, helping him arrange the array of flowers he’d bought before heading back to her place.

Carlos had the house to himself for a few hours as Rocio would be running a class at this time. A few hours to reflect on the past six months. He had a school that was running well. He had a great woman by his side that would do anything for him. He had a family that could bust his balls and bring him back up in the same breath. Yet it was still strange to think that he was a retired man, retired at thirty-seven years old how many people could say that? He needed to learn to appreciate the fact that he could still walk, still had the ability to do what he loved. It wouldn’t be easy but he could do it. And he’d have all the help and support he could ever want.

It was a quarter before three when Rocio walked into her home, the aroma of fresh flowers hitting her as she stepped through the front door. The sight of vases full of flowers in her kitchen almost knocked her off her feet and if that hadn’t seeing Carlos amongst them all surely would have. But the mahogany haired woman composed herself as she walked into her kitchen, setting her purse down on a free space of counter.

“How have you been?” The brown-eyed man pulled out one of the kitchen chairs for her.
“I could ask you the same thing.” Rocio sat down after taking two bottles of water from the fridge. “I’m sure it’s more interesting than my story.”

Taking one of the bottles Carlos replied, “I’ve been better, that’s for sure, but I’m almost completely healed.”

“That’s good.” There was a minute of silence as they say there, both not entirely sure of what to say next. “I’ve missed you, you know. The real you.”

“I’ve missed him too. I’m sorry I let this injury get the better of me. I’m sorry I didn’t take care of it sooner. But I promise you that that guy I’ve been for the past couple of months is gone. This is his goodbye.” Carlos took Rocio’s hand in his as he spoke, even placing a kiss on it briefly. “Now tell me how you’ve been.”

“I’d say that I’ve been good, but I should really be saying that ‘we’ve’ been good.”

There was a confused look on the man’s face as his other half spoke. “We?”

The blue eyes of Rocio began shining with tears as she took the hand that held hers and placed it on her stomach. “We.”

******

At two months Carlos was fully cleared. His back had recovered fully and he had fully recovered himself. He had more of a reason to be his old self than normal now, nothing but his absolute best for his future child.