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Jesse walks to the beach to clear his head. The lights are too bright, the people laughing too loudly, and he needs to get away from the unctuous charm oozing out of the pores of every single politician in the room. The night is breezy and a slight chill in the air makes him grateful for the first time all day that he's in full dress uniform.
He sees a familiar figure sitting at the ocean's edge and hesitates before going over. Gabriel sits hunched, elbows on his knees, staring into the ocean like it holds all the answers he's looking for. He's chewing contemplatively on an unlit cigar, and if he hears Jesse approaching, he doesn't turn around. Jesse sits down, close enough to brush against Gabriel's shoulders in greeting.
"Hey ingrate," Gabriel says without any heat. "You ditching the party?"
"Could be saying the same thing about you," Jesse replies easily, pulling a cigarillo of his own out. He doesn't light it, turning it over in his hands instead. "This shindig is being held in your honor, you know."
"In Overwatch's honor," Gabriel corrects him. "For the Strike-Commander," he says, with the slightest hint of bitterness. He looks at Jesse. "You know it's not for me."
"Well," Jesse drawls, drawing out the word as he looks for his lighter. "They pinned some medals on you today didn't they? Can't say anything because the media's there, but everyone that matters knows the truth." Jesse regrets sitting down on the sand in his uniform as he accidentally fills his pockets with sand and finds no lighter for his efforts. "Can't find my goddamn lighter."
"Here." Gabriel shifts, pulling a lighter out of his inside breast pocket and handing it over.
The lighter snicks, flaring up in the silence between the two men. Jesse nods in thanks as he hands the lighter back to Gabriel, humming in satisfaction as he sucks in a lungful of smoke and salty sea air. He rolls the smoke around the back of his throat, savoring it as he listens to the sound of the waves.
"Awful nice of the higher ups to come to Gibraltar instead of us going up north."
Gabriel grunts.
Jesse watches Gabriel covertly while smoking, trying to gauge his commander's mood. It's not unusual for him to be agitated when command comes to visit, stressors intensifying with every mile closed between him and his superiors. Gabriel usually becomes louder, explosive, and tightens up discipline in every area imaginable. Jesse tends to steer clear of Gabriel and his impossible demands during those weeks.
This time, it's different. Gabriel is quiet, drawn into himself and his own thoughts. He didn't even snap at Jesse for sitting too close, not bothering to widen the distance between them. Jesse can feel on the tip of his tongue-
"It's rude to stare," Gabriel says suddenly.
"What are you scared of?" Jesse asks at the same time. He feels an odd twist in his chest at having been caught watching.
Gabriel flinches imperceptibly. "Who said anything about scared?" he growls, turning to glare at Jesse.
"Hey, hey, I don't mean scared like those guys that almost pissed their pants last week 'cause you looked at 'em funny," Jesse raises his hand in protest. "Just that y'know you're supposed to be at the party but you're a thousand yards off on the beach in full kit."
The moon is hanging low and heavy on the horizon, bright enough for Jesse to see Gabriel relax and reach for something hidden from view.
"Yeah, I might be worried about something," Gabriel admits, uncorking a bottle with his teeth. The moonlight glints off them, strong and white. Jesse pulls himself from the thought of how bright they are against dark skin as the bottle is shoved in his direction.
Jesse takes the bottle and raises it automatically to his nose. He recoils at the sharpness, not prepared for how strong the drink is. "You steal this?" he asks, brow raised.
"And a few more," Gabriel smiles, sharp toothed. He shows Jesse the other three bottles lined up next to him. Jesse notes that one is already empty, and the one he's holding is less than half full. "That SEP shit burns through alcohol too fast."
Jesse sips from the bottle and shudders. "Dunno how you do it but absinthe isn't exactly my thing," he wheezes when he catches his breath, passing it back with a grimace. " 'Specially straight up like this."
Gabriel looks personally offended. "It wasn't my first choice either," he says defensively. "Supplies haven't come in yet this month. Damn continental Europeans don't carry enough tequila or even some goddamn whiskey for me to take four bottles for personal use and they had absinthe from catering in the kitchen. What the hell do you need seven cases of absinthe for?"
"Beats me," Jesse shrugs. "Europeans."
"You know what I used to be scared of?" Gabriel asks.
They've been sitting outside for an hour, silently smoking and passing the bottle back and forth while music and laughter float out from the base behind them. Jesse hums in inquiry.
"Used to be scared that I'd never make a name for myself. Dunno what the rest of America is like, gotta ask you or Jack for that, but Los Angeles is a divided city. Always has been, always will be. The ultra rich and famous living just blocks from the sort of desperation that only the poorest and the invisible can feel." He scoffs, spitting out a few shreds of tobacco leaf that came loose from the cigar.
"Three guesses which side I came from and the first two don't count," he says, leveling a stare at Jesse. "Most everyone I knew ran with a gang, or wanted to be in a gang, or was in jail or dead because of a gang. Mamá found out I was going to join one when I was still a kid. Thought I was going to die that day from the weight of disappointment she had in me."
"In case you couldn't guess, I've always been a mama's boy," Gabriel grins suddenly.
The moonlight is bright enough by now to bounce off the fine lines around Gabriel's eyes as he smiles and Jesse feels faint.
He gawps at Gabriel in disbelief, mouth hanging open, considering.
"Yeah, ya don't look like it at first glance but when ya think about it, I guess so?" Jesse stumbles over his words, still dumbstruck by how young Gabriel looks with a smile on his face.
"This mama's boy right here cleaned right up and kept at school. Got good grades, graduated near the top of the class, but my parents didn't have any money to send me to college. So I did what every poor boy from the inner city does," he continues, ignoring how punch drunk Jesse looks. He looks like that a lot around Gabriel. "Applied to college and joined up with ROTC so they could pay for my schooling."
"Hey, you ok with all this talking?" Jesse asks, suddenly nervous. "Jus' sayin' since you've been-"
"It's ok kid," Gabriel cuts in dismissively. He looks vaguely irritated at being interrupted. "I can kick your ass from here to kingdom come and back and you know it."
Shifting uneasily in the sand, Jesse rubs his chin. He's finally able to grow a full beard, and the stubble prickles against his palm. "Yeah, that's for sure," he concedes. " 'Sides, who else would I be talking to about your business?"
"Anyway," Gabriel continues, "I might've had a few but I'm fine. Just listen."
He pauses to light a fresh cigar. Gabriel inhales and closes his eyes, tipping his head back to release a large plume of smoke. Jesse absently notes the long line of his throat, working to- he shakes his head. Now really isn't the time or place, he admonishes himself.
Gabriel glances out of the corner of his eye, smiling lazily. "Look while you can, kid," he drawls. "I ain't saying anything about it tonight."
Jesse flushes scarlet red. "I- uh- what? I- I wasn't- what was I looking at?" He's aware that Gabriel knows about his not-so-covert crush, but it's still embarrassing to have it come up.
"Hell, today's an off day. I'll let you off the hook just this once but don't expect anything else." Gabriel takes another drag, exhaling deeply.
If his face were any hotter, Jesse thinks dimly, he could probably give the sun a run for its money and light up the base for a year.
Gabriel sobers up and lies back, staring straight up at the stars. "I know what it's like to be a name now."
Jesse waits in silence.
"Back home, I'm a Lieutenant General," Gabriel continues. "Started out enlisted. OCS was part of SEP, and then suddenly I'm one of the fastest rising soldiers in the history of the goddamn United States Army. Well, me and Morrison. Betcha didn't know that," he grins humorlessly at Jesse.
Gabriel stubs his cigar in the sand.
"Then the Omnic Crisis happens and we're lent to the UN. When it's over, we're not sent home free. I'm roped into this goddamn Overwatch business and I'm in charge of Blackwatch," he spits out the name like it's a bitter taste in his mouth. "And it's covert missions day in and day out and when you read the news it's former unofficial Overwatch commander Gabriel Reyes this and former unofficial Overwatch commander Gabriel Reyes that until even those trickle into nothing." Gabriel sighs.
Gabriel looks into the far distance, unseeing and uncaring what he looks like to Jesse. His face is completely open, worn down and tired like Jesse has never seen before. It shakes him more than he cares to admit, realizing that even the great Commander Reyes could admit to feelings of insecurity and doubt. It scares the shit out of him.
"I've been on both sides now, but I don't know what's worse, the high profile or being completely forgotten," Gabriel says. He's still far off, speaking more to himself than to Jesse. "On one hand, I had too much media attention, too little room to do things that really mattered. On the other hand, I'm on the sidelines now and my achievements are unrecognized by the public."
He refocuses, coming back to the present. "I know, the nature of the job means that things should be hidden. The less people know, the better off they are and all that. But sometimes, you just want people to tell you thanks." Gabriel stares at the ocean morosely.
"I'm real sorry, boss," Jesse says finally. "I dunno what else to say. It's a shit job and it's fucked up that you're the one that has to deal with it. You deserve better."
Gabriel smiles faintly. "I know," he says. "Thanks for the sympathy. You're a good kid, even if you skip out on training every time you have a hangover."
"Hey!" Jesse protests. "I can hit whatever target you throw at me and I think that's good enough for anyone, dontcha think?"
"Ever heard of cardio?" Gabriel asks dryly. "My dead great-grandmother could run faster than you, God rest her soul."
Jesse subsides into good natured grumbling, pulling out another cigarillo to chew on absentmindedly.
"So what are you going to do about it?" Jesse asks, breaking the silence.
Gabriel sighs. It's a bone deep weary sigh, utterly incongruous coming from such a young face. Jesse is struck again by how young Gabriel really is, to be in such a position of power. Barely 33 when he was tapped to be the Blackwatch head, Gabriel is still a few years shy of 40. Barely 40 and he's had several lifetimes' worth of experiences, visible only by the dark circles under his eyes and the scars scattered across his face.
"There's some funny stuff going on in Overwatch," Gabriel says quietly to Jesse. He sits up, leaning closer to Jesse to impart the information. Jesse can feel Gabriel's breath against his face and he has to make a herculean effort to keep his mind on the topic.
"Some real funny stuff in Overwatch," Gabriel repeats. It's a statement, not a question. "It's barely five years old and there's already some strange things going on. Small things, like misdirected intel and people I haven't personally picked being shoved onto the team without proper security clearances."
Jesse nods. "You mean like that Chung lady a month ago." Sara Chung had shown up unannounced to the Grand Mesa base and declared in front of all personnel that she was part of Blackwatch. The breach in security protocol and lack of proper clearances had her in a holding cell for 24 hours until Strike Commander Morrison had stepped in and ordered Gabriel to take her on.
"Yeah," Gabriel confirms. "I don't think that the Strike Commander was being malicious, but there's definitely something about the chain of command that's getting under my skin. Still don't know who exactly is pulling the strings here, telling Jack — the Strike Commander — what to do, and he never answers my questions."
He stretches, taking another long swallow out of the forgotten bottle before wincing. "Christ, I don't think I can drink this stuff anymore."
"It took you three bottles to decide you don't like absinthe?" Jesse asked incredulously, jarred out of the serious moment. He peers at the bottles in the sand next to Gabriel.
"No, I decided I hated it from the first sip, but I didn't want to walk all the way back to find something else now," Gabriel tells him with the patient air of a person talking to someone exceptionally dense. "Plus I'd have to mingle again and I hate mingling. Took me until the third bottle to realize I can't stand it anymore."
Jesse considers the explanation. "Fair enough," he concedes. "You gonna head in anytime soon boss?"
"Nah, don't think so. I think the Strike Commander still has a speech to give and I must've heard it seven times this week while he was practicing. Don't think I can listen to it again." Gabriel grimaces.
"I ain't one for speeches neither," Jesse says. He stretches out on his back, laying flat to squint at the stars. He's been learning some astronomy, and he can make out the Big and Little Dippers in the sky. "Rather do cardio than have to be in that room for more'n five minutes."
"That can be arranged," Gabriel replies immediately. He looks down at Jesse. "Training grounds are right here and so's your locker. Suit up and be ready in fi-"
"Whoa, hey!" Jesse scrabbles, sitting up hastily. There's sand in his hair, but he ignores it as he stares wildly at Gabriel. "I didn't actually mean it you know. Uh, sir."
Gabriel laughs. Jesse's never heard a real laugh from the Commander before. It's hoarse, creaky from disuse, like the user hasn't had a chance to practice in a while. It pulls a tentative smile from Jesse, his gut twisting. There's such little joy in Gabriel's life that he'll laugh at his subordinate being a pain in the ass.
"Well," Jesse pretends to consider for Gabriel's sake. "If we're training, does that mean we get a free pass when the Strike Commander comes around later asking why we weren't there?"
"Nah, kid," Gabriel says dismissively. "I know you don't want to train and I sure as hell don't wanna supervise you on my evening off. I'll cover for us later if he comes after our asses."
"How?" Jesse asks curiously.
"Probably just tell him to fuck off," Gabriel shrugs. "It's worked before and I'm pretty sure it'll work again."
"You told Strike Commander Morrison to what?" Jesse asks incredulously, grin spreading across his face. "Why Commander, isn't that insubord-" he breaks off, hands raised in surrender as Gabriel glares even harder at him.
"Careful there," Gabriel warns menacingly. "I can still pin you down even with three bottles of this shit in me."
Jesse is smugly pleased to note that Gabriel hasn't shredded a cigar nervously in the last hour. "Yeah boss," he says mock placatingly. "You've already kicked my ass four times in training in the last two days, I know."
The ocean stretches out before them as they settle comfortably into the sand again. The moon watches high in the sky as the tide creeps up the beach. In a couple of waves or so, Jesse will have to move his feet to avoid ruining his shoes. He leaves that problem to future Jesse, tipping his head back again to search for more constellations.
"Gonna need some help from now on," Gabriel says, breaking the silence.
"Hmm?" Jesse asks, absentminded. He's just about picked out five of the seven stars that make up Andromeda.
"Listen to me Jesse." Gabriel is serious now, and Jesse pays attention.
"Whaddya need, boss?" Jesse asks. He's uneasy whenever Gabriel uses his first name. It only happens when he's fucked up real bad, or when there's something serious at stake.
"Gonna need your help from now on," Gabriel repeats, once he's sure that Jesse is paying attention. "Like I said, there's been some real funny stuff going on lately in Blackwatch, and in Overwatch too. Jack won't tell me everything, but I know there's some stuff that's been catching his attention."
Gabriel pauses and frowns.
Jesse waits.
"I don't want to bring unnecessary alarm," Gabriel says slowly. "It's small, whatever's going on. I've been watching, and maybe hopefully, I'll find out who's doing this before it gets any worse. But if I don't?" He looks at Jesse, intent on making his point. "I'm going to need you to help me out."
"How d'ya know I'm not in on whatever's going on?"
Gabriel fixes him with an unimpressed stare. "First of all, tonto, no one would trust someone like you to carry out an international plot of intrigue," he says dryly. "Plus, I'm the one that personally bailed you out of supermax and brought you into Blackwatch. No one else cared about some seventeen year old kid joining up, not even Jack. If you've been playing the long game for the last five years, I'll give you my own shotguns to shoot me in the back."
Jesse blushes suddenly, overwhelmed by the unexpected praise that Gabriel is showering on him. That and the drink is delaying his reaction time. "I could be a double agent," he tries to counter.
"Tough being a double agent when you wear your bleeding heart on your sleeve for the world to see," Gabriel shoots back, eyebrow raised.
"I- I-" He can't think of anything else to say. "Thanks," Jesse says instead, lamely. He's acutely aware of his ears burning.
"You don't have to do this," Gabriel says, studying him closely. "I don't want you to feel obligated to-"
"My commander's asking me for help," Jesse cuts across him. " 'Sides, this way you know for sure I'm in your camp, right?" He grins at Gabriel.
"One of the least obvious ways," Gabriel says under his breath.
"What?" Jesse squints in suspicion.
"Nothing," Gabriel says quickly. "Right." He's taken aback by how readily Jesse agrees to join him, though in retrospect, he shouldn't be. Jesse is a quick study and an even quicker draw, assessing the situation before making his decision and sticking by it for better or for worse.
"Could get nasty," he warns, giving Jesse another chance to reconsider. "Like I said, I don't know who's making all this happen but they gotta have some major clout. They're pulling strings at the United Nations and with senior United States military officials. Anyone with that kind of power can back it up with bodies if they wanted to. Could be dangerous on a scale that you haven't faced yet, not in Deadlock, not even in Blackwatch."
"Sounds like you're going to need someone to watch your back," Jesse says promptly. "You can watch mine too," he grins cheekily at Gabriel.
Gabriel relents, nodding.
"Listen, it's getting late so I'm heading back. You comin'?" Jesse asks, climbing unsteadily to his feet and brushing sand gingerly off his uniform. He bumps up against Gabriel as he turns his pockets inside out to get rid of the sand inside.
Gabriel considers. He looks at the crumbled remains of his cigar being washed away by the waves lapping at his boots. "Yeah." He stands gracefully, like he hasn't drunk enough to kill a normal person twice over from alcohol poisoning.
He wraps an arm around Jesse's shoulders, solid and steadying in its warmth. "Let's get back."