Work Text:
How long were you going to sit there? What waited for you if you got up?
You had stopped crying however long ago. Honestly you couldn’t remember. That terribly uncomfortable chair was the extent of your conscious at the moment, seeing as you your whole world was just ripped away from you.
“Ma’am?” A deep voice drew you out of your troubled thoughts and you shot out of your chair. It was still weird not having Angela here in this situation but with how sideways everything had gone you were going to take whatever you could get. You had to. Both of you.
“Yes? How is he? Is he going to be okay?” You blurted out the questions in rapid succession. A bad habit you should have scolded Jamison for instilling in you. You still could you had to remind yourself.
“Are you his partner?”
“Yes, but how is he?”
“Jamison came in with a lot of internal bleeding from damage to multiple organs. Normally in these situations, we try to keep the most vital ones working while also trying to stop the bleeding. Jamison however was different from normal cases. By the time, he made it to the table too many of these systems had failed-
“What are you saying? Just spit it out!” Tears had already started to spill down your face.
“I’m very sorry, we tried everything we could but Jamison has died.” You could feel your heart tightening in your chest as more and more tears made their way down your face and turned into full-fledged sobs. You couldn’t hear any more of what the doctor was saying as your sobs turned to screams and you darted to the room they carted him into. You burst in just as a sheet was thrown over his face. He looked calm and peaceful and completely unnatural. It made your heart stop and your blood boil at the same time. You barely registered the hands pulling you out the doorway, but you trashed and kicked hoping to gain a handhold and break free. You wanted to tear off that damn sheet and shake him awake. You needed to see him again. See his crazy, stupid manic face and hear his fantastical laughter.
But he was already long gone before they had closed the door in front of you and you weren’t even there to say goodbye.
You didn’t even notice the loud, thumping footsteps that came your way. It wasn’t until a large hand settled on your head gently. The warmth was familiar and more welcomed than you had imagined.
“He’s gone, Mako.” You choked out the words, your voice still hoarse from your earlier escapade. “What do we do now? What do I do now?” You looked up at his face, your eyes stinging from long dried tears. You looked up into his eyes beyond his mask, hoping for any sort of enlightenment. A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. The first small glimpse of relief you’d had all day. Even before you and Jamie were a thing, Roadhog was a man of few words but knew exactly how to get his point across.
His hand moved from your head and pulled you out of your chair and into a hug.
“You’re right. But first things first. Jamison would be awfully sore if we don’t do this one thing for him.”
The Watchpoint was eerily quiet. Situated on the edge of the point of Gibraltar, one could expect the sea breeze to lend little excitement, but computer terminals sat unused and the usually vibrant cafeteria and barracks were dark and hushed. Even though it was night time, many of its inhabitants worked into the early hours of the morning. But not today.
At least that’s what you imagined them to be. You stood outside facing the cliff, wind from the ocean whipping past your black dress and pushing your hair from your face. You were cold, still unsure how to dress yourself without anticipating a certain warm body next to you always. A cleared throat led you back to reality. You turned to see everyone behind you, each holding a candle illuminating their solemn faces and dark clothes. You gave a small smile at the turnout. Jamison was never really Mr. Popular on base, seeing as he was very recently still a criminal, but if he could see everyone here, he would have been proud.
“Thank you all for coming. Honestly if Jamie could see you all right now, you would never live it down.” A few chuckles ripped through the crowd. You looked back farther at the edge of the cliff where a small urn rested. A silk tie sat around the neck and a picture of Jamison sat next to it. You hoped it would give you the strength to continue.
“We all know that Jamison Fawkes was a man of very many words. A trait that happily rubbed off on me from all the time we spent together. So how do you think I felt a day ago realizing that I had no eulogy. There were no words I could string together to describe what Jamison meant to Overwatch, to us, to me.” You paused slightly at that. “At least not conventionally. And let’s be honest, Jamie did not fit the description of conventional. So, if everyone could please step forward, let’s get this started.”
At that the crowd thinned into one long line. Mako came next to you and handed you candle. You looked to your left and right, all eyes on you. You made a quick nod and walked forward a few steps, everyone following suit. You bent down and padded at the ground until you found the item you were looking for. You pressed your candle to the fuse and hurriedly shot up, your eyes fixed on the urn. In a matter of seconds, the pristine silver urn exploded into an array of sparks and colors. More colors launched into the sky as every fuse lit into a firework. The loud pops and booms shook you to your core and even though tears ran down your face a huge smile was plastered across it. Cheers and claps ran down the line.
“Good Job” Mako said as he put a hand on your shoulder.
A warm breeze pushed its way up the cliff and brushed against your cheek, reminding you of hands and kisses long since gone, and yet your smile did not falter.
It was large and glorious and exactly what Jamison would have wanted.