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He'd seen her home to safety. Lurking in the shadows behind her every step, keeping just out of sight until the door was slammed behind her.
He took one last look at the quaint little home before turning away, descending from the roof top and dropping into the alley below. He took a moment to breath, his steps slow and slightly shaky.
A sound had him pushing away form the wall he'd leaned on, eyes snapping open to glare down the mouth of the alley. Black and purple mist swirled, a bone white mask floated in it's center before it began to dissipate, reforming into a man. Thick shoulders rolled as the masked male took a threatening step forwards, taloned fingers moving for his hips only to stop. Despite the eyeless mask, he could feel the eyes behind it trained on his own visor.
"I'm getting to old for this shit." 76 muttered under his breath as he straightened, hefting his pulse rifle when the masked man took another few steps towards him.
"I see your still as soft as always Jack." The voice that rolled off the males tongue was cold and dark, almost mechanical. 76 went ramrod stiff, eyes widening when his name was ground out. Then he was jerking forwards, the gun trained on the mans head now.
"I don't know you, but you've got your information wrong. My names not Jack." He spat, taking a step forwards himself. Barely a foot separated them now, He could make out the details in the mask, a few scars, the eyes void pits of nothing. He was taller then 76, whether that be the steel plated boots or his actual height, he had no idea.
"You don't remember me? Or even know my new name?" He murmured, gesturing to himself and then snorting. "Yea, sure your names not Jack. Jack." He growled, voice biting as he crossed his arms over his chest. "It's sad that your not keeping up with the time gramps, figure that's all you'd have the time for." He rumbled, and Jack eye'd him.
Now he head a thought forming. Reaper, the asshole supposedly hunting former Overwatch Agents. He felt himself only grow tenser. If the man knew his name, then he knew what he'd been. So that meant he had one course of action.
He lashed out, catching Reaper totally by surprise as his fist connected with the mask. Reaper stumbled to the side, one clawed hand coming up to make sure his mask as secure before turning on Jack with a snarl.
Faster then Jack could track, a clawed hand shot outwards and slammed into his throat. His already bruised and aching back spasmed with pain when it slammed into the alley wall. His toes could barely touch the ground as Reaper held him, mask tilted up so stare at him.
"Shouldn't have done that Jack, I'm not the kind of thing you want to piss off." Reaper hissed, talons digging into the sides of Jack's neck. Jack grunted, the Pulse rifle clattering to the ground as he brought both hand up to try and pry Reaper's fingers off his neck.
"Let me go!" Jack snarled, earning a dark chuckle from Reaper. The hold tightened and he felt panic slip over him like ice water being dumped over his head.
"Death never lets go, Jack. Not until he'd gotten his marks soul." Reaper stated coldly, stepping so close that their masks nearly brushed. "Are you afraid Jack?" He asked, and Jack, breathing panting and shallow now, snarled at him.
"Of you? Hell no." He snorted, and then let one of is hands drop from Reaper's wrist. He balled it up and then lunged forwards against the hold, swinging weakly at him. Reaper's free hand came up, snapping down over his fist and stopping it mid punch.
"Face it Jack, you didn't beat me the first time. How could you hope to now." He hissed, and a loud, confused sound left Jack as his eyes brows drew together above his mask. But instead of questioning him, he frantically tried to think of a way out of this. When he finally landed on a choice, he honestly felt bad for the asshole holding him at arms length.
"I said, my names not Jack." He snarled, before swinging his leg forwards as hard as he could. His shin connected firmly with Reaper's crotch, earning a howl as the man dropped him and stumbled away, cupping himself as he crashed down onto his side. With a cough, Jack leaned back against the wall, knees shaky as he supported himself against it.
Reaper lay, cape pooled around him and hood half knocked off a few feet away, groans and whimpers occasionally rising into the air. Rubbing a hand over his throat, Jack bent to retrieve his gun, movements slow and painful. He moved past him quickly, boots slapping over the cement as he made a break for it.
He was barely a foot past him before a pair of hands closed over his ankles and yank him down. He hit the cement with a grunt, his gun skittering out of reach. The hands left his ankles and began to climb up his body, one hooking around the back of his thigh while the other hooked over a hip, Reaper dragging himself up his body. The hand on his thigh moved up to right under his arm pit and the one on his hip snagged on his shoulder.
To much of his body covered his own tired one for him to stand a chance of knocking him off. A pair of steel plated knees came to press on either side of his hips and the hand on his shoulder is gone, only to have it closing over the back of his neck as Reaper sat up. He could feel the man breathing heavily above him, Reaper's other hand pressing onto his back now. He jerked to the side, attempting to free himself and failing. 4
"That was a dirty move Jack, never thought you'd be one to go below the belt in a fight." Reaper hissed, sounding breathless and still a little pained. Jack merely grunts in answer, then letting out a growl when the hand on his neck moved and Reaper's arm came to circle his neck.
The weight on his back vanished and the hand on his back gripped his shoulder, one of Reaper's legs nudging his own as he forced Jack onto his back. Then he was pulled into Reaper's body, back pressed against his front. The arm around his neck isn't strangling, more a guiding hold. Jack wants to fight it, but he's honestly to tired. He stays ridged, his legs sprawled out in front of him. Reaper's drawn up on either side of him, keeping Jack effectively caged.
"Reaper, what the hell are you doing?" 76 asks, fingers hooking around Reaper's bicep. He can't see Reaper, but he can feel him shrug. Feels each breath his takes and everything feel so familiar. The comment that Reaper had made earlier slips back into his mind and one of the most ludicrous thoughts slips into his mind for a split second before he brushes it off.
He couldn't think like that, because there was no way in hell it was true. After a few moments of tense silence, the arm around his neck slips off, coming to dangle loosely down his front. The hand on his shoulder dropped to wrap gently around his hip.
For a few moments, Jack keeps a ridged frame, but his muscles are tried, he can't remember the last time he had a proper sleep. He finally relaxes into Reapers touch and body, letting his head rest limply against his shoulder. It's quite between them, a silence that brings back to many memories at once. Then Reaper's voice is sounding off next to his ear, a quite, metallic whisper.
"Just like old times, eh Jack?" The man rumbled, instantly Jack was stiff as a board against him, eyes snapping wide behind his visor. He tried to pull away from him, but Reaper's arms and hands clamped down. His legs pressing in on either side and brushing off his weak struggles like they were nothing. "Hey, take it easy old man. Don't hurt yourself." He muttered, and Jack collapsed back against him, panting ever so slightly from exertion.
"You can't be him. You were in the building when it went up..." Jack murmured, voice cracking at the end. He felt Reaper's frame shiver with a soft chuckle, felt him shake his head as he tugged Jack's body into a more comfortable position.
"So were you asshole. I was shocked as hell to find you still alive. But I guess it makes sense. You were never one for surrendering, not even to death." Reaper murmured, and Jack just snorted, a bitter chuckle leaving his lips.
"How did you make it out. That building came down on top of us Reyes." The words were soft but the name was harsh and broken, choked upon. He felt Reyes's arm and hands flex around him, the hand on his hip moved up, his arm snaking around his midsection while his other arm came up to his neck and then slipped into his hair, musing the snow white locks with gentle, sweeping motions. His talons scraped tenderly over his scalp and he relaxed farther into the touch, letting his body melt and mold to Reaper's.
"Mercy saved me. I don't know how but when I woke up, I was like this." Reyes murmured, letting his head drop down onto his shoulder. "I should be killing you, not offering you comfort and solace." He muttered, and another bitter chuckle was torn from Jack's tired throat.
"You never were one for following those kind of notions. You weren't soft, but you had morals." Jack grunted, and another chuckle rippled through Reyes's body. "I shouldn't be letting you do this to me, I should be fighting." Jack then quips back, letting his head tip to the side and brush against Reyes's, the leather hood stiff and thick, a pillow against his head.
"Yea, well you were ever letting your emotions get the better of you. Never could hold the damn things in check." Reyes answered, earning a little snort from Jack. Reyes's mask nudges aside the collar of his tattered jacket, the cool finish brushing against the skin tight material swathing Jack's neck. "I remember when we used to sit, neither of us would say a word. I'd just snuggle up close and you'd relax against me. You were always so tense, it was one of the few times you'd actually loosen up." Reyes murmured, the edge of the mask digging in lightly against the black under suit.
His head tilted to the side a bit, exposing his neck so that the edge of the mask could bite tenderly into the skin before receding. He could feel himself drifting, falling asleep to the sound of softly murmured words and the feeling of him breathing behind him. His eyes keep dropping behind his Visor, slipping shut for a few seconds before flicking back open.
"Sleep Jack. Your tired, I can fell it." Reyes whispered against his neck, this time it was no longer that muffled, metal like voice. It was then he noticed the absence of the arm around his midsection. Before he could speak a word, the arm was back, the bone colored mask held in the silver talons of his hands.
He tried to turn his head, to actually look at the man holding him but he couldn't. His muscles wouldn't respond to his commands and suddenly he had nearly no control of his body, just laying there, being dragged farther into the void of sleep, something that for once was no eluding him.
"Gabe?" He managed weakly, trying to pull away but barely managing a shift in position.
"Shush, just sleep Jack." His voice was gentle, tender as was the hand running through his hair. The last coherent thought was that he hadn't gotten to see his face, even if it was just one last time. Then he was dropping off, blackness welling up and drowning him as he fell unconscious in Reyes gentle arms.
When he finally woke, dying sunlight fluttered between the drapes of the nearby window. He blinked slowly, still groggy as he sat up and rubbed his hand over his eyes. His pulled his head from his hands, taking in the fact that he was in one of his safe houses.
His eyes caught on the small, folded up piece of paper on his nightstand. He scooped it up, pulling it open and letting his eyes trail over the few words scribbled on it.
'Don't look for me and stay out of trouble Jack.'
Jack blinked, eyes wide until the events of the day before crashed down on his head. Reap-. He shook his head, no Reyes was still alive. Bastard must of done something to siphon off his energy.
He forced himself up, nearly tripping over his own two feet in his grogginess. He shoved the drapes aside from the window and caught the flash of smoke and red light as Reyes vanished. He let out a snarl, slamming his hand down on the windowsill and turning back into the room, letting the drapes fall shut behind him.
He was going to track down that smog spewing asshole if it was the last thing he did.