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Jack Morrison is not good with goodbyes. Similar to Reinhardt, Ana, and to a certain extent, Gabriel Reyes, the old soldiers from the golden days of Overwatch share this same problem, a tremendous nostalgia that won't let them move forward. Torbjörn went his own way, in his workshop, busied himself with family and a Bastion—Jack had heard—, while Brigitte and her godfather, Reinhardt, continued to bring justice, little by little. Ana, whom he had recently found and was spending the days with, was doing the same, bringing justice and fulfilling some kind of silent duty to her people, as Shrike. Gabriel Reyes, after his disappearance, had become a complete ghost, taken over by Talon and transformed into an agent on their side, continuing to haunt Jack as Reaper. It's horrible to have someone that knows you so deeply on the other side. Jack feels this firsthand, specifically from a gunshot wound aching on his hip.
—...Any progress with our ghost? — That voice… It was excruciatingly familiar.
— Nothing, he disappeared from the map in the last few days — An unknown person replied, later, Jack recognized him as Hakim.
— Good… Keep looking. When you leave a trap... — Jack looked around, trying to find a route to enter Hakim's compound, since he couldn't enter through the gate. He quickly jumped over the wall — …You never know what might fall into it.
As a guard tried to hit him, he quickly ran over and hit him with his gun.
— Where is he? — Jack said, his visor helping him track the face of the voice.
— Right here, Jack — And a clear shot to his hip — Always rushing... I know your every move before you even think it, always have, always will. I've been looking for you since the incident in Switzerland. I knew it would take more to kill you, and now here you are, this is how things should have been- Arghh!
Gabriel had warned him of the threat, but the soldier had deduced that it was pure paranoia, he’d always been very intense. Actually, he couldn’t be completely sure that the bomb was not planted by him. Among the fights between the two commanders, there was always a fierce and bitter rivalry. He was never able to say goodbye to his memories of his time in Overwatch, especially those moments of discussions with Soldier 24, and he feels like he never will, especially when Reaper continues to be seen right after the cruel murder of all the politicians and people linked to the Act of Petras and the corruption of Overwatch and Blackwatch. It seemed like a bad joke, someone on the other side wanting to get some kind of twisted attention by killing everyone Jack wanted dead. People who certainly had no connection to Talon, or so Jack thought.
These thoughts took him out on the city at dusk. The 76 on his back became a clear target as he scanned his surroundings. He deeply hoped—no, he knew — the Reaper would soon appear.
He heard footsteps that didn't belong to the few people nearby, but played coy—as he always did—, watching as the black smoke appeared out of nowhere next to the sandy dust. When his feet took him to an area remote enough for Reaper to attack him, he saw smoke forming to one side, and heard the voice loud and clear;
— Right here, Jack — he said, just like last time, and the hand on the gun raised itself.
The soldier had already understood his technique from earlier, and as soon as he heard the voice and saw the smoke, he turned to the opposite side, finding the figure materializing in mid-air.
He pointed the gun at his old friend's chest, eliciting a sinister laugh from him. He kept his eyes glued to the hollow eyes of that mask. Reaper passed through him, smoke and all, and Jack felt entirely complete for split seconds, like the smoke had filled in the gaps in his scarred heart. It scared him, but it gave him the upperhand, Reaper didn't seem to want to fight, but to play, and he would give him good sparring for as long as he could. He threw himself against the materialized body. He had spent too much of his energy in that movement, and he certainly wouldn't have that much energy to do the same trick over and over again. He dropped his weapon next to the Hellfire Shotguns that Gabriel always used. He threw his body against Reaper, who pushed him back shortly after, but the gloved hands didn't let go of his strong arms, they ended up falling, rolling on the sand.
— Always so insistent, — he growled, landing punches on the chest of the man below him — Always so determined…
— You were like that too, once… — Hands pushing, and Jack turns them around, standing above Reaper — Don't you remember?
One punch to the visor later, Jack is thrown back against the ground, the old soldier rising to his feet.
The lack of an answer answered Jack's question, but he kept memories fresh enough in his mind for the both of them.
— …Aren’t you tired of planning attacks, Boy Scout? — He pressed his boot against his chest.
— I planned this for too long — He held the boot as if hugging would give him some kind of mercy.
— Did you foresee all this?
— No... I planned to... find you.
The sound of his beating heart was loud in his ears, a reminder that they both were alive—to some extent.
— You didn't even know if I was alive... — A reluctant laugh.
— Exactly — Jack pushed the boot with all his strength, throwing Reaper to fall onto the ground. He breathed deeply and stepped away from him, defensively, feeling as the arenous dust clung to him. He looked around desperately as breathing felt harder and harder to do. He felt like he was back in Switzerland.
The last thing he saw clearly before the explosion was Gabriel's face, angry at him. When he woke up in the middle of the rubble, he found himself desperate, looking around, tears and blood clouding his vision, one of his ears with a loud frequency noise. He coughed, as the dust tried to get through his nostrils and into his lungs. He couldn’t breathe properly.
— Gabe! Gabe, where are you? — He dug and tried to navigate through the bloody wreckage, looking for any sign of life — I'll find you, Gabriel!! Gabe, please.
He searched tirelessly, using everything in himself to lift the metal and concrete. As fatigue got to him, he knelt and saw a silver ring sparkling on concrete. An unharmed, yet blood stained, dog tag with a wedding ring on it. He picked it up and started running his finger over the letters, trying to read it with his fingertips:
“REYES
GABRIEL
06 0000 0024
AB NEGATIVE
NONE"
A singular tear dripped onto the metal,
— I'm sorry. Don't leave me here, Gabe. I can't do it without you — He held the necklace against his chest, and between tears, he took his own dog tags:
“MORRISON
JOHN FRANCiS
06 0000 0076
O NEGATIVE
CATHOLiC"
Morrison only put Catholic on it for his family; he hadn't practiced christianity since he was a child, never found himself in a church as he was older, not even to dress up in his Sunday best, like he used to look forward to. Even so, he found himself praying to that gentle and merciful God to find Gabriel for him. He just wanted to see those eyes again, feel that warm skin, see the scars, the wrinkles that arrived too soon... Dead or alive.
He put the dog tags together like a prayer, a promise that they would be close again, and thought about taking them both with him, but he felt the ring against his fingers, and he didn't need to see or feel the name embedded inside to know that it was Martina’s. The beautiful and kind woman who married the love of his life.
He placed the two necklaces on the floor.
— Maybe then we'll be close to each other... Until they find us, right, Gabe? — he laughed, without humor, his throat was aching, his voice hoarse — if you could hear me, you would think I was stupid... I don't know if I'll be able to be Strike Commander without you. Do you really think I'm a coward?
Silence. Nothing but silence. Deafening silence. Jack stood up on shaking legs, looking around.
— I am. — Jack assumed.
The owl mask seems to take on a confused, even if stagnant, expression. The smoke makes its way to an alley:
— Try to follow me, if you can — His voice echoed, clouding his senses.
When he realized it, his legs were already following the trail to the sandy walls.
— It's true — Jack leaned against one of the walls, groaning, his hand pressed to the wound from earlier — What I said is true.
—...You're stupid, Morrison — He held the collar of his jacket and saw his arms pushing him, gently, his blood making the black cloak gleam with that scarlet glow. Despite everything, he still didn't let him get away.
— …You're not going to hit me? What did you bring me here for?
A deafening beat. His breathing was steady now, adrenaline only making it faster. Reaper looked down, freeing Jack from his grasp.
— …Here they can't hear or see us — He said after looking away.
— You don't need that much privacy to kill me.
The blue eyes through the red visor seemed to be able to see through the eye holes and the smoke that had once formed that body, gloved fingers and metal claws grabbing the collar of the blue and white jacket in anger. He looked at the ghost as if he expected something other than violence, hope watering his eyes with tears. Reaper couldn't keep this up; Expected the soldier to feel anger... sadness, God, even fear! Not those saddened orbs. He pushed him against the wall of the dark alley, so far in the city of Cairo. Jack grunted, feeling his back ache from the injuries that the earlier fight had given the old man. The regeneration and complexion SEP brought out were not like they used to be in their golden days. It really wasn't like the golden days for the two of them. One half blind and the other completely gone in smoke.
Reaper cleared his throat:
— ...You need to think before you end up in an alley unarmed and with a ghost — Two slow steps back, head down — What happened, farmer boy? Sad you fought so hard to end up like this?
Morrison took a deep, careful breath.
—...Don't leave empty threats and go.
— What? — Reyes looked ahead.
— Don't run like you always do. Ana is not around. it's just me this time.
— What do you really want, Morrison?
— Reyes... — he slowly extended his arms towards the mask.
— Tell me what you want, Jack — Reaper grabbed his arms before he could reach him.
Jack found himself remembering the more memorable time Gabriel said this to him, in a much more pious tone, just before Morrison became Strike Commander, before Gabriel's wedding, when things were easier between the two.
They had just returned from a mission, where the blonde had put himself in front of danger without thinking beforehand, acting too carelessly, in the Commander's opinion:
— Don't you dare die for me, stupid boy scout... — he tried to keep the tears from escaping.
— I won't... I won't, Gabe. I'm going to live for a long time... — He laughed, his blood staining everything nearby — You still... haven't gotten rid of me yet...
— You know... I'd better fix you up before the others see you... Stay awake, listen to me — He tried to stop the bleeding with a piece of his clothes — What will they think about the golden boy acting without thinking on the battlefield? As far as I'm concerned, Jack, that's my job for now. After all, no thought of mine is ever good enough. But this one is.
He tried to laugh, pressing both hands against the wound. Jack bit his lip, looking up with teary eyes.
— i... I want... Argh- I want... — Jack brought his hands to Gabriel's face, who smiled sweetly.
— Tell me what you want, Jackie — he placed a bloody hand on the injured man's chin, looking deep into his tired blue eyes.
— I want a... Ugh... — He wanted to kiss him more than anything. — Give me a hug, Reyes.
Jack smiled weakly. He felt sorry for Gabriel when he thought about it: he had never changed, and in his eyes, he had only gotten worse with the longing and yearning part of it.
— I want to talk. That's all.
— Talk? — he mocked, mask turning in the opposite direction — This should have happened decades ago, Morrison. But you’re stubborn. Look where that got you.
The pain in the old soldier's voice was still intelligible, behind layers of modulation and changes in tone.
There would be no way Overwatch could exist as it once did, in a very long time. He failed, and with all the blame on his shoulders, he faked his death like a coward.
If he were at home, in Bloomington, his father would say that's cowardly. That he should have gotten up and returned to the life of a commander.
If he were in the SEP, they would say he has always been a coward, belatedly entering the project, he should’ve been afraid of the experiments. Having faked his own death is nothing more than expected, and, in fact, he didn't even deserve to have survived the experiments. So much strength for a person who doesn't have the courage to keep fighting? A waste of time.
Reyes, on the other hand—not the one who was talking to him in the present day, but the one who was his best friend—, would say that it's a lot of responsibility for one person, and it's okay not to be able to do it alone, without him. Would pat his back and hug him.
— I know — Jack said, and Gabriel turned his head quickly at the sound of this, surprised by the tone — I'm sorry. Really... For everything. I should have listened to you. From the beginning. Realizing what they were doing when they promoted me... Realizing that they were destroying everything inside...
Reyes looked away, looking at the shadow and smoke that had become his half-dead body. He looked around before betraying Talon with his words.
— I know they destroyed more than the base, they took more than just Gérard… — Hs voice cracked, he sighed — But if it weren't for Moira, I would be dead… You never did anything for me.
He looked down, shaking.
— I'm sorry, Gabriel
He was careful with his words, and speaking the beloved name was like a relief. The mask watched the depth of the red visors.
— You have no idea what it's like to see everyone running away from you.
— I know... And I'm forever in debt for it. I understand if you want to smash my skull against the concrete right here.
He laughed awkwardly, taking his hand to the bone-colored mask, Reyes stood still as his fingers passed through the rigid material.
When Reyes looked down and couldn't see his own skin, he felt an excruciating heat bubbling through the cells of his body. Fire like anger taking over his actions like a kind of possession. At the beginning of Moira's experiments, he felt much less of this hunger for violence. Maybe that's why he was used to hurting Jack with words. He didn't remember many things that happened over the years. Talking to Jack he realizes that his memories have been reversed. Some drug or some medicine made for that. Now that he was freer from the doctor, more stable, he could think about it clearly. When he woke up, he didn't remember anything that had happened, just the doctor's face and the last vision he had before going out, the terrified face of a young man with blue eyes and blond hair, while the flames were consuming everything. As the weeks passed, his anger grew, then he remembered Martina and the figure of Jack, who had been the reason all this had happened. He knew they had been friends at one point, but now, he hated him and everyone who was on your side. And now, little by little, was remembering what life was like in Overwatch, what it was like to live with the soldiers… He was slowly remembering more about Jack. And the memories came as if they had never escaped him.
With every second he spent with the man, he felt less and less bubbling anger. Almost as if the chemicals in his brain had found the perfect connection. The mask Talon had created for his reality was slowly falling away.
—...Why can't I feel angry at you? — Gabriel said, low enough for Jack and no one else to hear him.
— You should. I destroyed everything. I'm sorry.
— You shouldn't be apologizing. You should be mad at me... You should give me a fight. Deny everything I say... You should be dead — He could hear Akande's voice in the back of his mind.
— I don't know if you have much say in what I should be doing. I'm tired of fighting you. I've done that too much in our past lives. — As if he was caressing his face, he ran his thumb over the mask — And... you should be dead.
— I am. I’m dead, Jack. Do you know what's under that mask? A corpse. My body is constantly keeping me in a stage of decomposition. Do you know what this is? — and the mask turned to smoke in his hands for a few seconds — it's these nanites that are keeping me alive. Constantly moving... They're also the only reason you touch me and feel warmth.
— Show me — He didn't pull the mask, but asked for permission.
— Ana didn’t like what she saw.
— I'm not Ana... — He took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully — I was your best friend once.
The words made a scenery appear behind his eyelids like a movie. He saw the blonde boy and the other Overwatch members partying. Ana with a girl in her arms, her husband by her side, trying to keep up with the energy of the agents.
— …And that’s when Gabe said: “if giving a fake gun to a 2-year-old girl is irresponsible, what the hell is Ana doing leaving Fareeha in a base full of heavy weapons?” — Everyone was laughing at the story he was telling, especially while he imitated Reyes, but his eyes seemed caught in the expressions, an admiring smile on his face — And we had already removed all the civilians from where the omnics had come... and yet he kept talking about not knowing what gift to give, while I was giving my life to fight. He was talking and beating up hordes of robots like it was nothing, right, Gabe?
— I'm not particularly good at giving gifts. At least I have this idiot to help me... — he playfully elbowed him, hearing him laugh sweetly.
— I think a bird crib mobile and a matching toy are more responsible gifts — Sam said, holding Ana's arm — Although I think she'll have as good an aim as her mother...
Ana made a face, even though she was smiling.
— Here's to Fareeha, Overwatch's newest agent! — The blonde boy raised his glass, smiling, everyone followed him, laughing. Ana silently reprimanded it, no matter how carried away by the light moment she was.
After that, the conversations became quieter as the blue eyes began to entertain him, talking to each other about everything and nothing. That had been back in his Strike Commander days, he remembered lightly.
— ...Just pull it.
Jack held the mask carefully, with both hands steady. Gabriel at this point had already withdrawn his arms.
The once tanned and warm skin was pale and gray, purple and black veins dotting the corners of his face. On the other side, the burn caused by the explosion and his cut cheek showing his teeth, a grotesque and violent sight. His eyes remained bright only from the emotion of the moment, the wrinkles highlighting a man who had lost everything. Time was harsher on Gabriel when they were young, now the wrinkles seem frozen in time. The old scars were still there, the greatest certainty that, standing still, so vulnerable, was Gabriel Reyes, Commander of Blackwatch, Soldier 24 of the SEP, Reaper of the Talon. The love of Jack's life.
He may have talked about Vincent to Ana, but he would never dare confess what he always felt.
Gabriel's hair was longer, different from how it had been since the army until the golden days, shaved or too short to even see the beautiful waves of its strands. His beard was full on one side of his face, not unkempt but not very groomed either. The color was a dark brown mixed with the gray of age.
— I'm dead, Jack Morrison. You killed me.
Jack threw his visor on the floor, and saw Gabriel's reaction as he looked at the blue eyes, the white beard, the scars and wrinkles. He seemed to absorb everything with one long look.
As memories flashed through Gabriel's mind like an avalanche of emotions, he linked the blond man and the gray-haired man to the same blue eyes, the same skin, the same mouth, the same jaw and chin, now with a similarly gray beard. He remembered seeing him at SEP, becoming his friend, trusting and opening up to him, talking about family, how horrible the experiments were. They were already grown men, but spending so much time in the field, they already had too much trauma for just twenty-something years of age.
He remembered spending hours with Jack at the Overwatch bases, talking, training, living next to each other. He feels this fervor inside himself, and he can't recognize it as anger, no matter what he does.
He remembers how he fought with him, never physically attacking him, but using every insecurity as a weapon, and looking at his face full of flaws, he could understand how easy it is to do that. Jack seems like a threat to everything he knows. Like it forces him to be defensive about anything. Despite all this, he can only feel adoration veiled with fear and suspicion. Jack manages to bring out the most sensitive in him with a smile or a kind request. That's why the fights increased, that's why he hates Jack, he manages to manipulate his cold and broken heart. Martina never managed to do that, so she meant security.
Jack brought his hands to his burned face, wanting to feel it now that he could no longer see it clearly, just a blur. Gabriel didn't have the strength to move his hands away from his face.
It didn't take long for him to feel the tears running down his most injured face, and he knew that soon he was also going to be in a similar state. The last time they cried together was at the SEP, after a particularly painful experiment.
— I killed myself too, Gabe, I'm sorry about that.
— …I don't understand what you want from me after all this.
—Ask me what I want.
— Tell me what you want, Jackie — He put his own hands on the soldier's cheeks.
— Give me a hug. That's all I ask. I don't have the heart to, after all this, ask you to... to- come back.
At least in this regard, Gabriel is grateful for his reservedness. Gabriel would drop everything if he asked nicely, big eyes and everything. Gabriel hugs Jack as if they were at the end of the world, interrupting him. And in more than one sense, they were, of course, at the end of the world, with the threats of the Null Sector and Talon increasingly in power. He holds his body back, breathes and asks for air as if he can't breathe without it.
— I hate you — Gabriel says, and he doesn't lie.
— I know. I hate myself too — Jack takes his hands to his gray-flecked hair, patting himself — I love you more than anything.
— You don't love me more than Overwatch.
— Overwatch doesn't matter, not anymore, not to me. You are alive. I can feel your heart beating.
—That's a lie.
— No, it's serious. Here — he pulled his hand out to feel the faint, steady beat.
— N-...not that — His voice was shaking — Overwatch still matters to you. The concept of being a hero will always matter more than me. What is right will always matter more than me.
— ...You hate me, Gabe, why would that change anything?
— Because one day I loved you too, idiot — He still does, with every cell in his broken body — You were the only person on that show who seemed to have a soul... to have a life. Jack, I looked at you and I was jealous. I had no reason to keep trying to survive that hell of experiments, my parents... Anyway... You gave me hope. But I never gave you hope.
— Gabe... When you became Strike Commander I was there, rooting for you and wanting your best and... and I knew everything would work out, because you were in control, you gave me hope.
— Trusting me is different. You can't do this anymore. We are on different sides now.
— Why, Gabriel? — the “Why Talon?” was silent, but heavily implied.
— How can I bring justice if our work simply comes to nothing? The system isn’t flawed, it just works for them. My life before all this was day after day arresting some stupid criminal, then i got to protecting people and things, then surviving experiments to serve the nation and protect more people…leading teams doing right…having my job ripped away for not being the perfect face of an organization like Overwatch, all because of my past... leading teams doing what is necessary... For what? All to die in an explosion? — At that point, he screamed — I want to make a difference, excruciatingly. Akande understands me. Our principles align. And it's better to act soon than wait for things to come to you.
Jack lowered his head, kicking a pebble on the ground. He spoke as if he had had the choice. He didn't have it. Reaper had smoke billowing across his body, anger coursing through his veins like a source of energy, it had altered his memories.
— I agree.
— What?
— I agree... I completely understand. But… — He snapped back.
— But? Don't make this about you... again.
— Let me talk — he cast a sharp look at the former police officer — Terrorism is not the path to justice. What- What would Martina think about that?
Martina. A familiar kaleidoscope of fond and sweet memories. Comfortable love, ice cream, scraped knees. It made him feel like a child, with that kind of innocent love. Martina's sweet scent clouded his thoughts, strong as if it was still there. It was secure.
— Gabi… Sweetheart… What are you thinking about? — Or worrying about her, gentle, twelve.
— Nothing important, my love — He thought about Jack, thought about Blackwatch, about the crisis, if Jack was okay, if he had eaten today, if he was sleeping well... Although he was no longer in a position to send messages to ask him, make sure everything was okay. After all, he was on vacation, spending time with his family, he shouldn't have thought about that.
— If you want to talk about it, I'm here, you understand?
— Gracias, mi amor — more sweet kisses left on scarred skin.
He remembered Echo Park and the time seeing the Jacaranda trees. How she helped him control his growing anger. His son, so young... had the same eyes as when he was younger, with more hope, less of an orphan. She looked at him with fear, as the smoke gradually faded into flesh. The same fear he has when he looks in the mirror.
Every time he feels angry, he thinks about that look in her eyes, that day.
— Don't say her name. it's enough for me to have a voice in my ear telling me that... — He quietly shouted, wincing.
— Everything could have been different... in fact, you still have time to change everything — The soldier pleaded.
— Martina and I were destined to end, going back to this crazy vigilante project won't change any of that. You said you didn't have the heart to convince me to… “switch sides” and look what you're doing — He sighed, now really angry, and Jack flinched — It's not fair for you to talk about her if you don't want me to mention Vincent.
Jack raised his head, eyebrows arched in surprise.
— What do you mean by that?...He has nothing to do with it, never has.
— You're getting the chance to have the quiet life you always wanted... That he always wanted... Away from the spotlight, away from the military... And yet... you're here trying to convince me to come into your Suicide Squad — Jack rolled his eyes at such an old reference, hurt and trying to fight back — What would Vincent think about that?
Jack swallowed hard.
Gabriel remembers perfectly every time he had mentioned the man. One day, the sky was cloudy, it was very windy, and the weather inside the program base was very cold. He remembers seeing the man under the blanket, his old cell phone in his hands, the broken screen lighting up and revealing what he was doing. At that moment, he got under the blanket next to him, scaring the blonde and laughing in response. This kind of banter always puts him in a good mood. He liked playing with Morrison.
— You're so easy to scare, John Morrison — He flicked the identification tags on the lanyard around his neck.
— it's Jack. And shut up, I'm doing important business.
— What? Texting your girlfriend?
— Texting my boyfriend, actually.
— Oh! Wow. Okay, sorry for assuming — I said, and Jack laughed, sweetly.
— Shut up…
— What's his name?
— Vincent.
— Is he pretty?
— Beautiful.
— Tell him that Gabes sent a kiss!
— Ew- No!! — They laughed — I already told him about you... He thinks you're my mistress or whatever...
— Me? Pfft. Why? We don't even sleep together every night.
Jack rolled his eyes, patting the soldier on the shoulder.
— It's not like I have other people to talk to, right...?
— Don't be sad, golden boy, they don't see your shine like I do.
—...He wouldn't think anything of it. He is married... to another man, and lives a good life. A life that I... couldn't give to him. I am perfectly fine... therefore. I wouldn't change anything that happened.
He raised his arms to hide his face, but the ghost was already stopping him, mocking his own face.
— Except you would change, Jackie... — Taking his thumb to wipe away the tears, Jack backed away, trying to push his body away from the hug that was coming to him like a slap — You just wanted someone close to you, didn't you, Jack? Someone to admire you... Understand you. You can't even refuse this hug, so hungry for any touch...
He held him like a lifeline, completely silent.
When things were complicated, before the bomb, Gabriel would sometimes find himself in Jack’s quarters, talking and talking as he finished his paperwork. The night always started the same way:
— Jackie... — Gabriel opened the door without knocking.
— ...Hi, what do you want? — He had deep circles under his eyes, sighed and mumbled, drinking coffee.
— I came to see how our commander is doing, sir. Is it a crime to care about you now? — Gabriel seemed in a good mood, practically dancing around the room, looking at everything as if it were a museum, even though he had already been there more than a thousand times. The door closed behind him with a thud.
— I'm sorry, can we talk later, Gabe? I... I have a lot to do and...
— I'm sure you can leave this for tomorrow. How long has it been since you slept?
—That's not important, i have work to do-
— Athena, how long has it been since he slept??
— it's been 75 hours and 48 minutes since Strike Commander Morrison has slept. — The robotic voice sounds through the speakers installed in the room.
— Jack.
— Leave me, please, I have to finish this. When I finish it I'm going to sleep.
— Jackie... Don't do that... — He sat on the table, holding the commander's face — Please. I'm just trying to help.
— To help? Can you help me by making me another coffee... Do you remember how I liked it?...
— ...8 spoons of sugar — They spoke in unison — That’s why you have energy, right? The amount of sugar... That can't be healthy.
— I like sweets... Dr. Ziegler said this is perfectly normal and healthy.
— I bet she said it's healthy when well distributed in a healthy and well-balanced diet... — She said, and Jack grunted — Morrison, listen to me. Go to sleep.
He held his chin affectionately, smiling at the face that was getting angrier by the minute.
— ...Gabriel, don't you have a wife and a child at home to take care of? — His smile never disappeared so quickly. Morrison had this habit of saying completely insensitive things when he wanted to prove a point to Reyes.
— They're fine, they don't need me to take care of them. You, however... — Still held his chin, his posture stiffening and his eyes distant.
— We're not married, you don't have any kind of emotional duty to tell me to go to sleep or criticize my diet. No one else matters, why would you care? — he wanted to slap him, just to wake him up.
— You are too dramatic. I don't need to be married to you to care about you, or are you just saying that because you want to be married...? — “With me”, he wanted to add, but it was left as a silent statement — You’re jealous of what Martina and I have, aren’t you?
Jack roughly removes his hand from his face.
— Fuck you. How could I be jealous of you? I don't know if you remember, but the last 6 times you complained about your marriage, you cried in my arms. — He felt his teeth grind against each other, fist against the table — I don't want to have a marriage where we fight every two weeks, I've had enough of you asking for more and more resources for Blackwatch, with your risky missions that could make people waste a lot of time and resources, risking my image, and your wild ideas of what you think is best... Every time it ends up in a fight and it's all your fault! You can't hear the truth, so you keep throwing a lot of things in my face that just don't matter. You just don't hit me to avoid hurting some kind of fucked up moral of yours. After all, it's already hurt me enough emotionally.
— The soldiers at SEP were right, you're a fucking coward — He walks to the door.
— I know, Reyes, you made that clear the last time we fought.
— I don't like you anymore — He says and closes the door behind him.
— Okay, lots of people don't like me...
And it always ended the same way: Jack followed Reyes' concerns. He knew this because most of the time he sat outside the room and listened intently for the rustling of paper to stop, and the rustling of sheets to begin. After that, he was careful to leave without making any noise and risk waking Morrison.
— Oh, but it is fair... You can't come back into my life, make me angry and not expect me to torment you. That's not fair... — Reaper laughs loudly — You don't love anyone, you just love being loved. You love the attention, don't you, Commander?
He felt something break as he called him commander.
— Please, no. Not again. I'm sorry, Gabe, I'm sorry... I shouldn't have talked about her, I shouldn't have tried to call you, I just... I'm tired.
It was completely uncharacteristic. He saw his teary eyes and saw his trembling hands pushing him away and it seemed like he had reached his limit.
As if coming out of a trance, Reaper stops laughing, suddenly standing still as he listens to the words. The brutally hugging hand began to move away.
— Jack, i- i didn't mean to-...
— I can't do this... I should leave.
— Jack, I'm sorry- I lost control. I’m serious. Please don't leave me here.
— ...I think it would be less painful for you to kill me. You don't know what you're asking of me, Reyes... — He said, sighing as he walked away from the dark figure and put the visor back on.
— What am I asking of you?
— You're asking me to stay. Once again. The last time you did this…
Gabriel's bachelor party had been perfect. Booze and strippers and even more party things that Jack had no idea how cool they could be. Jack didn't even know what this tradition meant. But in any case, as the groom's best friend and best man for his wedding, he had to help, he had to prepare a party. Gabriel seemed to laugh carelessly as Reinhardt told some story that, frankly, he didn't want to know about, but the drink made everything much lighter, and he believed that if he got up too quickly, he would fall dead on the floor, so for now he was preparing to get up. Slowly but surely. Cassidy had recently disappeared, and in one of the rooms of the giant house that Jack had rented, he must have been wandering around like a lost man. When he managed to get up, and started walking down the hallway, he quickly saw Cassidy's short crop top, the feather boa that was around his neck, and a strange smile, standing in the doorway of one of the rooms, he could hear a little from the conversation:
— If you really don't feel well, I can take you home — A laugh that he managed to guess belonged to Jack — Seriously, old man.
— I can't do that to him, you know that. And you're already walking crooked, brat.
— He would understand it.
— He wouldn't understand me, McCree — He used the fake name more as a joke, making Cassidy laugh. Those closest to Cole only used his real name with him, the facade fell after a few years in Overwatch.
For some time now, Gabe had noticed that Cassidy has been closer to Jack.
— Okay, he wouldn't understand, but- Oh. Gabe.
He had finally noticed Gabriel’s presence there. He saw Cassidy look back at the room and start walking towards him, moving away from both Jack and Gabriel in a strange and clumsy way.
— Hi, Cass — And when he turned to say goodbye, the cowboy was already gone. When he stopped in the doorway, his breath caught in his chest.
Jack was shirtless, cheeks wet, a nearly empty bottle of whiskey at his side and a glass in his hand. He had opened the window to let the smoke from his cigarette blow away with the wind. He was sitting on the bed and looking at him as if he were looking at a deity, perfectly carved from marble or ivory. But it was just Gabriel, really, wearing a black t-shirt with something stupid written on it, and shorts with a unicorn print on them. He didn't even know where this choice of clothes came from.
— Hi, Gabe. Are you enjoying the party?
His voice sounded weird.
— …Were you crying?
— Me? No… No, why would I cry? — He wiped his cheeks in an almost comical way, too clumsy to try to bring back the illusion.
He almost fell when he tried to sit in front of him, closing the door with a slam, and when he managed to climb into bed, Jack was looking at the window, blowing smoke and painting his surroundings a bright gray. Your heart skipped a few beats looking at him.
— I don't know. Why would you cry?
— Well, it’s nothing. There's no reason to cry — Jack's smile at that moment looked like a bad attempt at a scary grimace — I'm happy for you.
“Right. The wedding is in a few days” Gabriel had to remember that mechanically.
— Thank you for doing all this for me, Jackie. I can see you went out of your way to amuse me.
— Yeah, but the strippers weren't the best idea...
— I don't think Genji has ever seen a woman without clothes in his life. Did you see the way he reacted?
— …God… You guys are weird. I liked the music that was playing.
— There was a time when you were almost dancing with her on stage, Jack.
— Shut up- That's a lie, okay?
— No, seriously, I think Torb recorded you getting on the table and-
— Lie! — Along with laughing, he sloppily blew smoke in his face.
— Seriously, I think… — He coughed, taking the cigarette out of his hand to inhale once and put it out against the ashtray on the dresser next to the bed — I’m pretty sure he recorded… When did you start smoking these anyway?...
— It's been a few months. But it's only sometimes.
— I heard Angela complaining about the smoke in your room a few times, Jackie...
— …Yeah… anyway.
— What’s been stressing you out?
— Ah... I don't know... Nothing much — His eyes were watering.
—What was that?
—Nothing… it’s nothing…
— …Thank you so much for being my best friend, Jack. For being here even when you're feeling bad. You can go, okay? It's okay if you want to go — He cried more every second, Gabriel began to despair — Jackie. Jackie? Jackie, I love you. Jackie, please listen to me, stop crying.
— Gabe, it's... better... you- you go-
— I won't leave you alone. I can't. I love you, Jack. Stop crying, please.
Jack couldn't look into his brown eyes.
—Don't do this to me-
— I shouldn’t do what? Jack, look at me — When Jack finally looked at him, he was lost in the ocean that were those two infinite blue irises.
Was he doing the right thing by marrying Martina? Was he making the right choice when Jack was looking at him with the most melancholiy filled teary eyes he'd ever seen?
And scanning the rest of his face, he could see the redness from the constant suffering he seemed to be going through. His lips were red from biting them anxiously. Wet by a thin layer of whiskey and saliva. Jack stopped crying for a second watching it happen in front of him.
And when Gabriel finally touched his lips with the lightest of grazes, Jack closed his eyes and let himself relax, the tears still ran down his face, but they were calmer. Maybe that wasn't what Jack needed, but for that moment, Gabe would be ignorant and selfish enough to have what he wanted for himself. Jack didn't stop the affection. Trembling hands found themselves in his short hair, shoulders and neck. Gabriel looked like a hungry man, drinking from the tears that fell, giving the kiss a salty nuance amidst the bitterness. His own hands were lost on the blonde's torso. When he ran out of air, Jack was the first to pull away:
—That's not right. You shouldn't be able to do this to me.
A quick seal of lips, more teeth than flesh. Jack pulled him closer and closer.
— Then why don't you stop me? — He spoke into the other's lips, leaving a sloppy bite on his red lip — You want me...
— I should go — He said, as soon as he managed to stop crying completely, a good feeling bubbling in his heart.
— Stay. Please.
Jack Morrison couldn't say no to him. He even smiled.
— …We were drunk, Jackie…
— My drunken tongue showed what my sober mind thinks. I don't know about you, but...
— Pardon me, really. Listen to me. I don't know what they did to my head. It seems like I'm forced to remember the worst, always.
— That's what happens when you become a bitter old man. They may have changed something in you, or you just don't want to think about the good. I know what it's like. Gabriel, I see you. I see you in the way you hurt me and others in your life, and I hear you. I've been listening to you for a long time. I'm trying to listen to you, understand you...
Gabriel feels a weight piercing his chest. A sad realization that despite everything, Jack was right, and he was there for him even if he was hurt, even if he hurt him back...
In the most expressive memory of how much he had endured, Gabriel had fought with Martina, once again, when he entered Jack's rooms without knocking. He had already looked around the base since he arrived. He saw Dr. Ziegler jump in fright at the loud sound of the door opening. Jack looked at the door, and had a serious expression, until he looked into the brown eyes and the desperate expression, his gaze relaxed, before taking on an expression of concern:
— Angela, sorry- I'll sort this whole situation out in person soon, just...
— Jack... — Gabriel cried the name like a mantra.
— I'll be back another time... But I need this to be sorted out, agents are arriving from missions and they don't have enough medicine for everyone right now, Morrison... — She looked too serious and too tired, with dark circles under her eyes. He left the room while speaking, looking at Reyes as if to say “think about what you do”, he greeted him, finally — Reyes…
— Gabriel… What happened?
He closed the door behind him, walking to Jack's chair as he began to speak:
— …Martina is incomprehensible, I said I had to help the Blackwatch boys and that I couldn't be with our son today — He stamped her feet against the floor — and she said she was tired and was going back to her mother's house her in Mexico.
— And do you think she will this time? — He held the hand that was shaking.
— I'm not sure… Why doesn't she try to understand me, Jackie? I try everything to make her happy... And… And… She is perfectly happy with me, and then something happens and she treats me like this...
— Gabe, she might be stressed by motherhood... The weight of her work... You need to talk to her — He stood up, running his hand over the Blackwatch Commander's hot, wet face, trying to dry the tears and ending up spreading them against the scarred skin.
— She won't let me talk about it. I try to be the best husband, Jackie. I take care of our boy on the days I can. How is that not enough?
— In a relationship, you need to work together... You need more than chemistry, but companionship.
— I'm afraid I'm not a good enough father — if Morrison noticed the black smoke that took over parts of his body, he just preferred not to get into the subject — If I could talk to my old man... I would try to understand how he managed to take care of me… If taking care of Teen Cass was difficult enough… no mention of Genji… How can I take care of a child?
— You are a good father. I know this when I see you training together with Cassidy.
— He... I'm sorry... — He coughed smoke, turning his face away, Jack looked scared, a hand on his shoulder — He called me dad, some time ago- And he was all embarrassed. And I was happy, Jack... How can I look at a grown man and feel so eager to teach and protect?
— Gabe... There's nothing wrong with being happy about something like that.
— But… How can I not be able to do this to my own son? My own blood... I look at my son and think that everything is going to end badly, he has the same eyes as his mother, his hair like mine, but i keep thinking... Will he grow up to have the same ugly and bitter face that I have? Will he have the same quirks that Martina hates about me? I want him to be kind, for him to be playful… Being a biological father gives me a lot of room to make mistakes! How am I supposed to make this work?
— You can do it, Gabi, you can do it. it's okay to be scared, but you should talk about it with Martina… — He brought a calloused hand to his lips, pressing a comforting seal to the fingers. He heard the nickname that Martina always used for him, and felt a warmth taking over his body, when Jack spoke, his accent completely different from his wife's, he seemed even more affectionate. He found himself getting lost in the blue eyes.
— If only she tried to understand… how you do it… — Gabriel said, and saw Jack's gaze become distant for a second, letting go of his hand while Gabriel tried to hug him — I think everyone should have someone like you by their side, Morrison... I should have thought twice before getting married...
The blond-haired soldier didn't back down, but the brunet could feel him shaking a little, swallowing something before speaking:
— Don't say that. Things will get better between you and Martina — His voice shook a little, but within his own crying, Gabe didn't even realize it at the time — She'll realize she needs to talk to you.
He held his body close to his, as if it were the only safe place on earth. Jack sighed, quietly, listening to the low cries, a hand passing over his strong back as if there was a weak man there. His mind was miles and miles away.
— I love you, Jack. Thank you for being here for me and being my best friend... — He said a few hours, minutes, or seconds later.
Jack didn't respond at first, swallowing hard again. Gabriel had searched the entire base to talk to him. He had just welcomed him. In times like this, Jack thought Gabe knew his feelings and used them to hurt him, envying the Strike Commander title.
— You're welcome, Gabriel — The words seemed to descend like thorns — I love you too, friend.
— I have to go — He walked away, walking towards the door.
Jack thought a little before making a proposal that could save their relationship as well as his head.
— Bye, Gabe. Before you leave today, look for me, you have the equivalent of…. 1 year of accumulated vacation... It's good to enjoy a little as a family. I hear Echo Park has some nice Bungalows for family vacations.
— Oh… Thanks, Jackie.
The last thing he saw in the room were tired and distant blue eyes.
— I love you, Gabriel — He continued — And you don't understand what I mean by that...
— I can try. You can try to tell me... This time... This time I’ll listen to you.
— You already know, Gabi — Jack runs his finger along the worried expression's jaw. His finger tracing the scar tissue, feeling the sharp teeth from the puncture in your cheek — You've known for a long time.
— …Tell me… — And the claws passed through the metal, grabbing the mask with his hand above Jack's lips — Just tell me that you want me…
— …I want you, Gabriel — He says, and automatically, the visor is ripped off his face. One arm hugging his torso and the other, with its claws lightly scratching the side of his face.
Gabriel tilts his face, looking at the chapped lips, the white beard, and the scar.
— I... I want you too, Jackie.
— You're not sure about that...
Reaper seemed out of place, he obviously knew what to do, Gabriel Reyes had worked for years on teams and more teams with similar missions, Olivia had discovered this quickly, but the mind described as focused and serious seemed to be elsewhere.
The doctor had specifically asked Sombra not to test the patience of her patient of years, that being said, Sombra did her research, and everything she found just made her want to do the complete opposite. He responded to grumpy commandos with sarcasm and laughed in the face of danger, he had found the perfect balance to make that mercenary do his job right.
When they reached Siebren, he saw the behavior change at least a little:
— …A botched experiment shattered his mind into pieces. He's just putting the pieces back together — He took a deep breath before continuing — I think you guys have something in common.
Gabriel kisses Jack so hard that their teeth clash, a crunching sound coming from Jack and a growl coming from Gabriel, fading into smiles and another drag of lip against lip.
— I don't even know what I am or what I've become, Jackie, just make the most of what you have.
— What you are never mattered to me. It's still you. You don't know how much I missed you.
When Cassidy was detained during the fateful mission on Route 66, he was placed in an interrogation room. The white light directly above the table was the only light illuminating the entire room, his hands were handcuffed to a bar. The first to enter the room was Jack, who within minutes clenched his fist and left the room with a bloody nose. Ana watched him with a contained smile on her face. Passing through the corridor, Gabriel looked a little hazy, until he saw the blood on Jack's nose:
—That's definitely a vision. What happened, Morrison?
— A stubborn brat from a stupid gang in New Mexico. if he goes to prison, they will end him. I was trying to recruit-
— He's already one of mine. I bet 50 dollars that I can recruit him for Blackwatch.
— You seem too convinced.
Ana remained quiet, finding the playful bet amusing.
— Is it a bet or not?
— Okay, I bet you can't.
— Excellent.
On the other hand, when Gabriel entered the room and saw the teenager looking up with that superior look, he couldn't help but laugh.
— What is it? — He heard the strong accent, and realized that he was pushing his voice to become deeper.
— Sorry. it's just that what you did just now was really funny, brat.
— Do you want to get a broken nose too?
— You think you're a real bully, right? What is your name?
— Jesse McCree. Not that it's any of your business.
He closed his eyes, looking at the boy.
— I think that's a lie — He smiled — But anyway, my name is Gabriel Reyes. I am the commander of Blackwatch.
— What a stupid name.
— Yes, but I didn't choose it — He laughed — And “Jesse McCree”... When did you choose that name?
— It- It's not fake, what do you mean by that? Why do you think this?
— You don't look like a Jesse.
— Ugh. Your good cop act is shameful.
—No, brat, you got it all wrong. I'm not the good cop, that’s Jack — He said with a smile.
— Oh, okay, I understand — He rolled his eyes.
— Do you want to die? — Gabriel said, suddenly completely serious.
— Huh? No!?
— Obviously you don't want to. Little coward shit… Look, listen here. I bet 50 dollars that I would be able to get you on my team, and believe me. Having a place to live and a job is better than robbing around… Or ending up dead in prison.
— Did you bet that with the other guy?
— Yeah. And listen to me. There's no point in locking you up here, the UN doesn't give a damn about a stupid little thief and doesn't want robberies and murders to be the reason for overcrowding in our cells... So you're going to a real prison. Do you know how things work there? They will see a stupid kid and they will finish you off, as a lesson.
— …
— So, what do you prefer?
— Blackwatch… But only because of your bet — He lied.
— Yeah, damn right, kiddo. Welcome to the team.
Gabriel Reyes was the second and last to enter the room to talk to the boy. Jesse McCree left the room and Jack saw the Blackwatch commander take off the teenager's handcuffs.
— You don't…
— Yes, Jackie.
— You're unimaginable, Gabe — Jack opened his wallet, Ana running her fingers over his temples, and Gabe laughing.
McCree remained with a smug smile, next to Gabriel. When the note passed through Gabriel's fingers, his fingers felt calloused and he shivered. He smiled gently before turning back to the boy.
Jesse McCree had a sparkle in his eyes. Reyes could feel the admiration laced in his expression. He ripped the hat off the boy's head and placed it on his own, watching his crumpled hair being fixed by the convinced boy. Beating Jack Morrison put him in a good mood, and he could also feel his eyes on his back, that was the most important thing. He gave the money into the boy's hand as soon as they turned the corner. Jack’s eyes lingered on the corridor, astounded.
— …You… You don't know how much I missed your eyes on me.
— You know I can't see anything, right…? — he laughed without humour.
— But you have your attention on me.
— I've always had my sights on you, Gabe — and he bit his lower lip.
Gabriel rolled his eyes.
— You’re such a dumbass. Yeah, right… Good talk, Jackie — Patted his back, and as he heard the grin, he felt the weight of the conversation go. It was okay, they were going to be okay. He pulled on the jacket once more, earning a grunt and a hug. For once he felt in his own body.