The rain fell parallel with the tears from his eyes. He would have laughed at himself for doing such a childish thing, but there's nothing funny about when a soldier cries, especially when it's over a loved one he lost due to his selfish actions.
He remembers everything about her like it was yesterday. Her fair, soft skin, dreamy blue eyes and melodic voice. Her silky platinum blonde hair and her laugh of pure gold. She was utterly perfect. How he got lucky enough to steal her heart he would never know. He always believed his Angel could obtain someone much better, and this further proved his point.
Honestly, sometimes Jack wished he would find someone who would love her just like he had. He didn't want her to hurt because of what he did. He beat himself up on the daily because he felt as if he was the sole reason for any suffering Angela ever encountered. He didn't want her spending sleepless nights in the arms of nobody, longing for someone she would never get to see again. He wanted her to feel the love she deserved again.
Jack wouldn't call himself a stalker. He just wanted to make sure she was safe. He truly hoped that Angela didn't think to much about the sightings of the vigilante named Soldier 76 near whatever city she was in. He tried his hardest to stay undetected, but there were always young punks somewhere that needed a good beating and stuff like that wasn't so easy to hide.
The fact that he was so close to her, yet couldn't touch her or be with her was difficult to get used to. Some days were easier than others, but some days he could almost feel her loving touches ghosting over his skin in mockery. So close, but so far away. Keeping her safe was tearing him apart, but he was ok with that. As long as his Angel was out of harm's way. He knew she could defend herself well enough and that she probably didn't need someone else to be watching out for her, but he couldn't see her suffer more than she already had. He would never forgive himself for that. Hell, he still hadn't forgiven himself for all the pain he had put her through with the downfall of Overwatch, and he'd be damned if he ever did.
Sitting in this safe house in the middle of Dorado, Mexico, the blood of the Los Muertos fresh on his hands, he felt utterly and completely lost. A call had just been sent out. He was surprised that the old gorilla still had his phone number, let alone was brave enough to recall the same organization that had produced so much controversy in the world. Part of him despised Winston for it.
He could only imagine the strain that was put on Angela's shoulders from the recall. Her lover's organization, being pulled back together again without their leader. It would be a difficult decision for her. He didn't want her to join again, in all honesty. He wouldn't be there to keep her safe. Side by side with her on the front lines of the most dangerous battles, keeping an eye out for her well being. What if she was killed? He couldn't live with that. If she found it in her to join again, he would have to follow her. How he would get himself into Overwatch, he didn't know, and how he would keep his identity would be an even bigger challenge, but if it meant protecting his beloved from the dangers of the world, he would do it.
It was three months later. The night after the first mission the newly reformed Overwatch had completed. They had won, no doubt, but it was a pretty rough battle. Mercy almost had to revive from the dead, and although the healing technology was helping her recover, she was still in pretty rough shape. The mission was extremely difficult for him. He did what he usually did, keep Angela safe, but he had to make it as discreet as possible. Not only did he have to struggle with keeping his identity concealed, he had to adjust to not being the leader of the team.
It was difficult watching others make decisions that he normally made, and even more difficult watching them make decisions he knew would lead to negative consequences. He knew when Lena called for them to move forward into an unknown circumstance somebody would get hurt, and when it turned out to be Hana, he was even more angry. Something about that girl brought out a fatherly instinct in him, and while he didn't know why, he felt the need to protect her almost as much as he needed to protect Angela. The whole mission had been taxing on him, as it had been on everybody, but his old muscles were complaining. This work wasn't as easy as it used to be.
He knocked on the door frame of the open door leading to Angela's office. "Mercy?" he asked in the gruffest voice he could muster. "Yes?" she asked, and as soon as he heard her voice, he knew she had been crying. Rounding the corner and walking into the room, he confirmed his suspicions. Her eyes were swollen and the tip of her nose was red. A few tissues were strewn across her desk, and next to them was a framed picture.
Jack's heart dropped in his chest when he saw the picture in the frame. It was him and Angela, arms wrapped around each other, on the day of his promotion to Strike Commander. There he stood in Overwatch blue, the same azure color as Angela's sparkling eyes. She was so proud of him, he remembered. Their smiles were the brightest and they looked so genuinely happy. That day was so hard for him. Reyes was hostile and the responsibilities he was going to carry seemed like they were already crushing him, but coming off the stage and being promptly enveloped by Angela's beaming form was enough to make him smile too.
His hand quickly flew to his chest pocket, tracing over the image he knew was hidden in the fabric. The same exact image that he was staring at on her desk. His very favorite picture of them. A lump formed in his throat and he tried his hardest to swallow it. The tears that rimmed his eyes threatened to spill and he was grateful for the mask covering most of him face. "I… I came for some pain meds." He said, voice slightly wavering. "This body ain't what it used to be." He attempted chuckling, but it wouldn't come out. He felt so extremely guilty.
"Ah... " Angela said, quickly wiping the tissues into the waste basket besides her desk and returning the photograph to its corrects place, "Before I'm allowed to give you anything, you need to complete your blood tests." Shit.
"Um… I might be ok then." he said, making his way back to the door. He had been avoiding this for so long. Mercy insisted on it, telling him they wouldn't been able to treat him if they didn't know vital information that would be revealed by his blood work, but he continued to dodge the tests. He wouldn't let them figure out who he was. They had to have his blood still in the medical database. There was always the chance that they weren't able to recover the data from after the explosion, but he knew the records had to be stored somewhere else.
"Please tell me it isn't because you're afraid of needles or something." she grinned slightly. God. Even when she had been in tears just minutes previous, her smile was still so damn gorgeous.
"No, that's ridiculous." he scoffed.
"Then what's holding you back?" she asked.
Oh how he wished he could tell her. He wished he could just hold her and never let her go, tell her he's sorry, ask for her heart back again. He wanted her to understand why he had to go away, and why it was for her good, but he couldn't let her know. He couldn't put her in that position. He kept her safe and sound for so long, but watching her cry made him question his motives. Looking from the picture on her desk, back to her still-glassy eyes, he figured he had nothing to lose. Maybe that data wouldn't even be there anymore, and John "Jack" Morrison would be erased for good and replaced by Soldier: 76, just like he should be. "Alright." he grumbled.
"Come on then." she gestured, leading him to sit down on one of the exam tables in the medical bay she called her office. "I'll need you to take of your jacket, please." Peeling off the leather material that had become like a second skin to him, he cursed himself in his mind for letting emotions take control of this situation."It will only hurt a little bit, I promise." she joked, wiping the inside of this arm with a small alcohol wipe.
Tying his arm off above the elbow, she uncapped the needle and slowly slid it into his vein. He winced as it broke the skin, and she stroked the side of his arm. "It's only a twenty two gauge needle Soldier," she laughed, "Is it really that bad?"
Jack couldn't even answer her question sarcastically. The small touches had sent electricity up his spine. Oh, how he missed her and the feeling of her skin on his. He was so enthralled in memories of her body flush against his that he didn't even feel the needle being pulled out of this arm. "Hold this." she said, placing his hand on the square of gauze held over the sight of where the needle had been placed, "And apply pressure."
He took a deep breath as she walked over to the nearby counter and placed the vial of his blood into a small machine that whirred to life at the push of a button. "In a matter of minutes we will truly know who is behind that mask." she joked. His knees felt weak at that saying. She didn't know how literal that saying was to him.
"Those pain killers?" he asked, attempting to take his mind off of the fact everything he was trying to hide may become revealed in only a few minutes. "Oh yes," she said, opening a cabinet to the left of him, "Give me a second…"
"That picture…" Jack blurted out. He regretted saying that the moment the words came out of his mouth. He almost slapped himself at that. Why did he bring that up. Did he want to make Angela more upset, or reveal who he was. HIs heart pounded so loudly in his chest, he was surprised Angela couldn't hear it. Looking towards the photo on her desk, her face fell.
"That's Jack." she mumbled, "He… We…" she stuttered.
"You guys were together." Jack finished for her.
"Yes…" she took a deep breath, "before he passed."
Jack just nodded, and watched Mercy come undone in front of him. She let the tears fall down her cheeks, and she let out a quiet sniffle. Angela never broke down like this in front of strangers. Hell, she would barely let herself through even when she was with Jack. Of course, he saw right through her tough facade and would tell her it was ok, and she would finally let down her walls. In front of strangers though, the world around her could have been ending, and you would have thought everything was ok. Jack knew that because she was willing to let her tears out in front of someone so foreign to her, she was in a whole world of pain.
"I didn't even get to bury him." she said, shaking. "There's so much that I want to say to him. So much more I could have done to let him know how much he really meant to me." Her shoulders trembled as her eyes cried and all Jack wanted to was grab her and hold her tight and take of his mask. His breathing was unstable and guilt came and filled him like a flash flood. At this moment in time, he yearned to be Jack again. Maybe this was his chance, and just maybe he would take it.
"I just wish I could get the chance to tell him how much I really love him. She choked, a sob escaping her throat. As she leaned up against the cabinet and let her knees buckle, the machine reading Jack's blood let out a tone.
"Data recorded. Match found." It read.
"Well maybe," Jack said, grasping the edge of the mask covering his face, making a decision that would forever change things, "You'll get that chance."
"Strike Commander John Morrison. Blood type: A+"
Angela's jaw dropped as the cold, metal mask hit the floor. Jack was practically shaking. Now Angela knew, and there was no take backs. Regaining her balance, Angela advance towards him with caution. Jack wasn't sure how to read her face. There was definitely surprise in her expression, and he saw love and longing, but he wasn't sure what else he saw was.
The sting across his face and the sharp sound that echoed throughout the room confirmed what emotion he saw. Yup. Definitely anger. The slap had taken him by surprise, but what surprised him even more was what she did next.
Falling into his chest, arms wrapped around his neck, she let her knees give out as she clung to him for dear life. She went from disdain to yearning in a matter of seconds. He didn't blame her. Finding out your lover was alive after grieving for many years had to be an astonishment for anybody.
"Why?" she choked out, as he held her up with his strong arms. She kept asking herself this over and over as she wept in his embrace.
"I love you, Angel." he whispered in her ear, stroking her blonde hair that was now a slight mess due to her upset.
"Do you Jack?" she pulled away from him and met his eyes with her tear-filled ones. "You let me suffer for five years. I mourned you, I never had closure and I went through so many things alone only wishing you could be there."
The venom that laced her voice concerned him. Did he do the right thing?
"You are my everything Jack, and not a day went by when I didn't feel guilty and heartbroken for what happened in that building. You left me with so many doubts, so many regrets and so many words left unspoken. I love you, god damnit, and I had to live without you. How can you tell me you love me when I had to endure all that because of you."
Her voice cracked at that statement, and the melancholy that filled her tone shattered his heart. "You know I wouldn't do something like this if I didn't have a motive." he practically whispered. He couldn't bring his tone any louder, or he would break down too.
"After Overwatch fell, if I was alive, they would have been after me. The UN, terrorist organizations, people who hated the work I did. They would have blamed that explosion on me. Blamed me for the lives lost that day. I know you wouldn't have left my side, and when they came after me, they would be after you too.
"I could never let you be killed in the crossfire of a battle between me and the rest of the world. You came to Overwatch to help save lives. You never asked for all of what happened. You weren't a killer like they accused us all of being. You were so innocent.I was not going to let them take you and use you against me. I did it to keep you safe."
A few tears leaked from his eyes, but he was quick in wiping them away. "You are here, Angela, and you are safe. And now I don't have to hide from you anymore."
She sobbed in silence. Her sorrow, relief and anger poured out of her and the sound of it filled the room. He did not know how much time had passed before she looked up at him and wiped her eyes, sniffling slightly.
"Jack?" she asked in a tired, broken voice.
"Please don't ever leave me again." More tears ran down his scarred face at the sound of her voice.
"Never again, Angel." he said, wrapping her still-trembling form tightly in his strong frame, as if to make sure he would never be able to lose her.
Gently touching his face and drinking in the differences that would take her a while to recognize, she pressed her lips to his.
This kiss could not be defined as gentle or graceful, for it held five years of longing and desperation. It was in this kiss she understood his desire to keep her safe and sound. Time seemed to melt away and it felt like just yesterday she had been kissing him and congratulating him for his newly received and hard-earned promotion. All anger left her and all apprehensiveness left him. Nothing stood between them.
That night, laying with his beloved wrapped tightly in his arms, reveling in the feeling of bare skin on bare skin after enjoying each other with unsuppressed passion, he realized that he had done the right thing.