Work Text:
Nights in Dorado were warm, humid, and always carried the faintest tang of something heavy and reminiscent of lush plant life. As a seaside town, the tang of salt crept in with the faint breeze that would filter through the shuttered windows, offering no relief from the unending humidity. This was summer in the Latin city and despite the overhead fan spinning lazily overhead, Jack couldn't sleep.
He knew the rest of the Overwatch team was sleeping peacefully in their rooms, the faint rumble of Reinhardt’s deep snores could be heard over the soft chirp of nighttime insects. Things had been tense since the recall, people who were long thought dead rising to the call once again. Perhaps he was a fool for coming back, but he had no illusions now of grandeur or an ideal of saving the world.
That was gone along with his voice, his sight, and the man he knew as Jack Morrison. He was just a soldier after all, and he'd do what he could to support Winston and his version of Overwatch. But things had become more complicated once certain individuals had come to the call, people who he was certain still wanted to wipe previous Overwatch operatives clean from the face of the earth.
He felt something twist in his stomach at the thought of Amelie and Gabriel. How he had failed them both, failed to see that by accepting his position as leader it had torn Gabriel away from him forever. How he'd neglected to get Amelie back from Talon faster, hadn't pushed as hard as he should've, and in the end lost her and Gerard. It was stupid to think on what he could have done and what he should have done. All he had was what he could do from here.
Drawing a deep breath he listened to the night around him, the soft snores, the crickets, the idle hum of the ceiling fan as it continued it's lazy arcs around its pendulum. It was then he heard the soft music, gently picked notes in a familiar melody that he hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime. The guitar sang its song so softly but familiar, like a lovers caress across his soul.
Closing his eyes he focused down on just the melody, a faint smile rising at the familiar progression of notes. It wasn't until the soft baritone voice joined that Jack felt his heart tighten in his chest. Sitting up he reached for his visor, fitting it over his eyes and letting the world filter back into crisp focus. His room appeared around him as he rolled from the bed and slowly made his way toward the windows. He hadn't bothered to pull the shutters, trying desperately for a cross breeze but getting none. Now it was useful as he listened and positioned himself to try to catch a glimpse of who he suspected was up so late.
At first he had been expecting to see the man that had given the new Overwatch so much grief, the man who had come to their cause because of his desire for Angela to fix what she had done. He expected leather and steel, owl mask and talons, but what he saw made his breath freeze in his chest. Gone was the persona of death and in it’s place, enveloped by the gentle moonlight, was the man that Jack remembered. Gabriel Reyes, with his old worn guitar that had a dent in the bottom from a vicious bar fight and the mother of pearl inlay through the handle that Jesse had called gaudy only once before he'd regretted it. It made Jack shiver despite the heat of the evening, seeing a ghost of the man he knew so well for so many years.
The song continued on, Gabriel’s voice carried to him from where he sat in his bedroom window, leg dangling down against the bright blue plaster as he lazily played into the night. It brought a memory to Jack that he'd thought he'd long forgotten. A small bar in the south of Spain, a warm night, sitting on the sandy shore of the Mediterranean while Gabriel played and sang to him. Waves lapping at their feet, campfire linking into the inky sky, and sleeping rolled together in an old creaky hammock.
It hit him harder than he expected, and looking up at the spectre he realized that Gabriel’s eyes were no longer the rich and beautiful brown he remembered but a seething deep red that seemed to shift along with the rest of his body, skin constantly changing in different patterns. So much had been taken, pulled from both of them, that he wondered why Gabriel would sing this song; one that Gabriel had purposely picked to get him to smile and shove him over in the sand. It was a love song, one that he knew Jack would remember; both of him and their love. Now it twisted his heart, making him close his eyes behind the visor and fight the wave that threatened to bring him to his knees.
But still Gabriel played, his voice a little louder, hands more sure and powerful on his strings. Jack had always been amazed at how Gabriel could get the instrument to sing with his touch, transcending it from just a song to something intimate.
Lost in his thoughts it took a second for him to register that the music had stopped, as had the soft baritone voice. It felt like the entire night was standing still in the wake of such a confession of emotion, of the intimate tones of the music that had filled it and caressed it. He could hear the soft scrape of fabric on the windowsill, and the long sigh that came from Gabriel. Jack didn’t dare more or even draw breath where he was. He didn’t want the magic of the night to end, the bittersweet memories of a time when they were happy, before everything had gone to hell and left them as the two shells they were now.
“Dammit Jack, I miss you.” Gabriel’s gruff voice caught on the breeze, and something that Jack could’ve sworn was a sniff and a rough clearing of a throat before the soft tune of lazy guitar chords filled the air once more. Jack felt his chest compress, surely this was the worst torture, taking a chance he peeked around the edge of the windowframe, watching Gabriel play. He could’ve sworn the man was crying, but Reaper wouldn’t cry he was certain of it. He was death, and death didn’t mourn any man, certainly not an old soldier.
Closing his eyes, Jack let the music wash over him once more. He didn’t dare move a muscle, listening to the the familiar chords of songs that Gabriel would sing to him so long ago. He wasn’t sure if this was heaven or hell, but if it was as close to paradise as he’d ever get then he’d take it, if only for the soft memories of Gabriel’s smile and the feeling of that warm baritone vibrating soft words against his back.
Letting himself slide to the floor, he pressed his back against the wall, listening and remembering. But the music didn’t stop, carrying on into the dark, quiet confessions seemingly lost on deaf ears as two souls cried for the loss of the other, trapped in their private purgatory that would only fade from sight with the rising of a new day’s dawn.