Chapter Text
He looked in a mirror, and saw himself. Identical down to the cufflinks and the barrel of his own gun aimed at his head. Neither took the shot. Neither of them lowered the gun either.
For a heartbeat they stayed like that, motionless.
And then a hand jerked him to the side and Chamber slammed hard into the wall beside him instead. A blast he would recognize in his sleep shattering stone where he’d been and Yoru practically on top of him.
“Next time, shoot faster.”
Chamber blinked, now was the time he should quip. Should brush the other off and laugh. For some reason, nothing was coming to mind. His tongue heavy in his mouth as Yoru glared down at him, looking progressively more like he might be considering concern the longer Chamber stared back at him.
“I’ll take your advice into consideration Monsieur, but I do happen to know what I’m doing.”
Something about it didn't quite ring true. He just had to hope Yoru wasn’t listening close enough to notice.
“Idiot.”
He almost seemed like he was going to continue, brow furrowed in a way that was decidedly different than his usual sneer of disdain. Chamber could almost see it being concern, uncertainty mixed with some level of care for a teammate at the very least.
Somewhere to their left Jett shouted, panic and pain all at once and Yoru’s attention snapped away. The crack of Chamber’s rifle followed soon after and the riflt-walker was gone. Reappearing on the other side of the window with his own rifle already up.
Chamber didn’t realize till the other was gone that his hands were shaking.
For a moment, he wondered if he had looked closely enough that too would be mirrored.
-
When Chamber was young, when he was still just Vincent Fabron, he would sit in his parents parlor late into the nights. Fingers resting on the keys of the grand piano his father had bought more than a decade ago and left to collect dust.
He’d been good at it, a quick study despite his fathers dismissal when his mother had announced he’d be taking lessons.
In a way, he’d made it an escape. Sitting alone in the parlor with his fingers resting on ivory keys he’d been able to lose himself in it all.
When Chamber was still Vincent Fabron he had almost convinced himself that perhaps if he tried hard enough he could fix it all. Vincent Fabron hadn’t lasted all that long in the real world when you thought about it.
In many ways Chamber hadn’t truly been able to leave behind the boy he’d been.
He still remembered his mother’s smile when she’d sat him down beside the grand piano with a deck of cards. He still remembered his father’s disdain when he’d found them there, their stilted house built between them and his sneer when he’d opened the door and watched it tumble.
Vincent had always wanted to be more like his father.
But his father had never been quite efficient enough when he thought about it.
His mother, on the other hand, had always known what she wanted and just how she intended to get it.
Every plan she made was a house of cards.
Chamber had always taken more after his mother, after all.
The danger of cards was that it only took one wrong move for everything to collapse.
-
Chamber had never been the picture perfect image he chose to present. Oh no, that had simply been the first lesson he’d learned as a child. Nothing mattered more than how you were perceived, and Chamber was meant to be the best of the best.
So long as he could push past it, no one else needed to notice. Not the sleepless nights, or the lack of meals on occasion. No, engineers often got lost in their work. So long as he didn’t push too far, no one else needed to notice.
And no one else had.
Perception was everything after all. And Chamber was very good at keeping up appearances.
The issue was that Yoru had seen through it.
Perhaps it had been the mission at Bind, the hesitation to fire. The lack of a proper response when he’d been forced out of the way.
Or maybe it had been one of a dozen other incidents.
He was starting to slip after all.
Too much time spent with allies to watch his back.
He wanted to hate it. But recently he’d found he wasn’t certain he had the energy left anymore.
-
Staring down the barrel of your own gun was an odd sensation. Looking yourself in the eyes and knowing you wouldn’t take the shot was as well.
"You’re losing track of your goals, Chamber.”
His mouth was dry again. His heartbeat pounding in his years. He was already long out of bullets for his headhunter. Rifle discarded somewhere in the alley behind him after Breach’s blast had knocked him off his feet.
“And what tells you that?”
He could read the exhaustion in his doubles shoulders in the same way he was certain it showed in his. Slumped, curled inwards in a way his father had always reprimanded him for as a child.
It had been a bad habit. Apparently even now he couldn't quite shake it.
“You didn’t shoot.”
That was true. He’d stood there just as his double was now, only then they’d both been staring down the barrel of a gun. This time, he alone had the honor.
“Neither did you.”
He almost looked disappointed. As if he had expected something else.
“Yes, but I know what I want from this.”
The other sounded almost smug. Smirking lightly as he stared back. It made his skin crawl. That irrational hate he’d almost forgotten rearing inside his chest.
“Do you?” His voice was rough, shaken.
His double of course was just as unbothered as he was supposed to be.
“I’ve always known. That hasn’t changed.”
His double continued before he could speak. Still smirking back at him.
“Even now? You’re starting to care, Chamber. You haven’t bothered with something like that since you were Vincent.”
“You would know that wouldn’t you.”
He felt like there was smoke filling his lungs, swallowing the words as he snarled them back. The other didn’t seem to notice.
“Don’t let it slip through your fingers.”
This time he didn’t have a response. His tongue sticking in his mouth, his throat closing on the words he wanted to let out. The look on his mirrors face was almost worse than the smug amusement. Something far more akin to pity.
“It took some time, but I’m sure you can figure it out.”
“What are you-”
“You’ve lost this one Chamber, au revoir.”
He didn’t expect the strike to come from behind.
-
The issue with mirrors was that they made it obvious just how much one was faltering.
And no matter how much he’d claimed to know himself, Chamber hadn’t looked that closely in a mirror in years.
There had always been a reason for that.