Work Text:
He’d broken the course record, but at what cost? For a mere few moments of entertainment, he’d locked himself into a world of business and burdens. He once again found himself trapped by his title as heir to the CEOs of Silva Pharmaceuticals.
Anxious energy was bubbling up in his chest, teeth grinding more and more as he tapped his fingers.
taptaptaptap. taptaptaptap. taptaptaptap.
He automatically started to bounce his leg, but when he tried, he remembered there was no longer anything there. All that remained was the ghost of his glory-seeking mistake.
Something snapped within him at this thought. This wasn’t the life he wanted to live - it wasn’t the life he intended to live. Swallowing thickly, his mind turns to the one person he knew that could help him.
Now, whether or not she would be willing to help him? That was a different matter entirely.
Ajay Che came from the same background as Octavio - it’s why they knew each other. Where they differed, however, is how they handled this. When Ajay discovered the extent of her parent’s gain as war profiteers, she left immediately, seeking to put her medical prowess to use in the Frontier Corps. Octavio just had a thirst for adrenaline, bored by his parents’ business - it didn’t matter how successful it was, he found no joy in it, so he followed his own pursuits.
These choices had caused their paths to diverge long ago, but Octavio had nowhere else to turn here. Ajay had dedicated herself to helping people, so surely she’d help him, right? Right?
He forces his hand to move slowly, pushing open the coarse tent material acting as a door to Ajay’s makeshift office. What he saw was a surprisingly sterile workspace, given the circumstances she worked under, and her, sat at a desk with her back to him as she bopped her head to the rhythm of the song she was humming.
“So, this is where you’ve been all this time, amiga.” Octavio speaks up. The medic before him freezes, turning to meet his gaze with wide eyes. Mouth hanging slightly agape, she continues to stare, before her expression shifts and hardens into a glare.
“Whatdya want?” She practically snarls, fist clenched around her pen in a vice-like grip.
Octavio gestures to his lower limbs, the grin on his face ever so slightly betraying his nerves. “There was only one person I knew that could help me.”
Her expression falters upon noticing his prosthetics. For all the money his family were willing to put towards them, the doctors still professed that the adrenaline junkie wouldn’t again be able to participate in the stunts that he was so passionate about.
“I can’t get ya legs back.” She states bluntly, turning away from him. She doesn’t continue with the work she was doing prior, though, instead pushing at and repositioning her headband. This gave Octavio a sliver of hope.
“But you can get me new ones.” He suggests. He watches her posture shift as she takes a deep breath in, exhaling slowly before she responds.
“Why should I?” She questions. He hesitates.
“We’re old friends,” He searches desperately for the words to convince her. “We didn’t leave on the best terms, but I still helped you get here. I’m just... calling in a favour.”
She sighs, turning around in her chair. Looking up at him, for a few moments all she does is frown.
“I’ll see what I can do,” She gives in, and an ecstatic grin breaks out across his face. She’s quick to glare again, pointing a finger, silencing him before he can get a word out. “But I bed’ not catch ya doin’ anyting stupid wit them.”
“Gracias,” He thanks her, grin still plastered on his face. “You really are a Lifeline.” The corners of her mouth are creeping upwards, too.
Octavio’s seen the Apex Games before - to be fair, who hasn’t - and he’s seen Ajay compete under the name ‘Lifeline’.
He has a feeling online stunts weren’t gonna be enough anymore, especially after literally blowing the Gauntlet record to pieces, and now he has access to biotic limbs - an arena seems like a good place to keep him from boredom.
He just hoped Ajay wouldn’t be on the opposing squad.
No adrenaline rush could keep him from keeping an eye out for her. Stim still running through his veins, the hidden speakers blast some victory song as the cameras zero in on him and his squadmates. They were the champions of this game, having racked up the kills, and not once had Octane caught sight of a head of pink hair. Good.
Nevertheless, though, she had caught sight of him. Her mouth was dry as she watched the games, one fist clenched tightly closed, the other hand resting on her D.O.C drone for reassurance. He’d survived, but that didn’t quell the nerves she faced, and she’d noticed those biotic limbs of his were looking a bit worse for wear.
That’s why Octavio found himself with a particular note in hand.
I told ya to be careful wit those legs, but congratulations on the win. Still, you should visit soon. We need to talk properly. - Ajay