An Explanation
Features: Reaper/Reyes. Ana, Jack Morrison and three OC's
Themes: Tragedy/Romance/Family/Hurt
Warnings: Death, Grief, Violence, Tragedy, Child Death, Animal Death, Family Death, PTSD
Reason?: Because Blizzard saying this godly man-hero decided to become a villain because he didn't get command is ridiculous and for Mercy to be this amazing healer and managed to do something so intensely horribly disfiguring to her friend when saving him doesn't seem logical. Have a more reasonable reason for his actions and what is happening to him. I also love theories. Please send those my way too.
Reaper faded into the den of the cottage home, the Irish wolfhound not moving once Reaper materialised fully in the room, the hound lifted his head and tail wagged back and forth but did not move from his settled spot on the rug by the hearth. With the sudden change in the dog's manners, the woman nestled into the hounds chest looked up. Bright emerald eyes brilliant against the flames of the fire that danced beside her, her freckled cheeks flushed to red once her eyes met up to his masked face.
"Hello, Ó Conghaile."
"Shit, that's an old one." the woman laughed, rising from the floor with a defiant glare piercing up toward the hooded intruder with a little more than a foot in height over her, a venomous laugh taunting the woman.
"Where's your boyfriend?" His tone indicated jealousy but if the woman picked up on it she didn't show it.
"Husband." She corrected, "He died six years ago. Ye'r late, pendejo." Though she spoke with a thick Gaelic accent the Spanish insult rolled from her tongue as if it was native to her.
"Morrison."
There was a silence. It lasted a tick longer for Reaper's comfort before the woman burst into laughter. "Ye'r shittin' me? Morrison? Sad sod is dead too, lad. He died with my husband." her fists were clenched, making Reaper push himself back just slightly, not enough to cause suspicion or seem like retreat, but he was going to be sure he was prepared to dodge her.
"Don't lie to me. He was here."
"'E's dead, lad." She laughed.
"Where is -"
"Ma" A male voice called, Reaper pulled back from where he'd been standing even further, his body no longer towering over the woman.
"Hide ye'rself, ya can get to torture and interrogatin' once I get my son out. Do not touch'em." she whispered lowly, her glare piercing him. "The den, Jacques." She called, stepping toward the border of the hall and the den, blocking the other resident from passing and unable to see Reaper.
"Ta cumhacht amach, ma'." The male voice commented, his accent had a very faint hint of Gaelic but not near the strength of his mother's. Gaelic was a rarity to find or hear, especially among younger generations, since the loss of Ireland and most of its population. To hear someone speak Gaelic that was not born until after Ireland's destruction was even more rare.
Reaper peeked over to see the man identified as Jacques, causing his barely beating heart to swell; a muscular boy in his twenties, about six feet in height, darker skin accented by a mane of deep auburn brown hair with light waves that brushed his shoulders. The most drawing feature were his caramel eyes, flaked with brilliant green, they almost seemed to radiate warmth.
"Seems so. It's been a hard day, why don't ya' go back home." The two had matching smiles that were very telling of their relationship as parent and child.
"Really? Are you sure, mami? I can stay here." He asked holding her shoulders and smiling at her with some concern.
"Don't ya' worry, Jackie boy. Now go, lest I change my mind and make ya' stay 'n clean." her smile faded as he moved off again, she shot a glare towards Reaper, making sure he was staying put. "Kitchen." She mouthed, Reaper fading into smoke that pushed toward the kitchen and knelt behind the counter, waiting. The kitchen was clean, few adornments save for a few rather old photos tacked to the fridge and two stools tucked against the counter, Reaper kneeling between them.
A few minutes passed and the man entered the den, Reaper poking his head out just enough to catch him. His attire changed, small tote in a prosthetic hand and hair pulled up now, a dog that matched the sleeping one on the floor at his side. "I'm a phone call away, don't hesitate, mamai." He stated to the woman, she was standing by the fireplace with a book in her hand.
"Of course, mi vida." She laughed, "Comportarse, ok?"
"Si, mamai."
"Tá mo chroí istigh ionat, Jacques. Tá a fhios agat go bhfuil, ceart?" She asked, a sad smile tugged up on her lips.
"Yeah, I love ya too, ma." He gave a quick kiss to his mother's cheek and continued for the door.
"Jacques." The boy turned, "I'm so proud of the man ye'r becomin'. I'm sure ye'r father is too. I love you. So much."
"Gracias, ma'. Couldn't have been this way without you and papi. I love you." He made a quick gesture to the hound, Valkyrie, beside him who followed obediently and Jacques disappeared behind the main door.
"Oh, Jackie!" She called, racing after him. Snatching a card from the counter. "Jackie!" She opened the door and almost collided into her son. "Ya' won't be gettin' far on the tram without this, yeah?" She laughed, kissing her son's cheek and pushing him to go.
"Gracias, ma', try to have a good night. Be by to check on ya' later!" He waved himself off and disappeared behind the closing door, the hound prancing beside him.
"Al'ight, get ye'r arse out 'ere." She growled, Reaper standing up and facing her, his body moved to smoke and materialised over her, looming over the woman who was barely hitting five feet in height. The moment his body became whole a surge of electricity rushed over him, accompanied by a rush of pain in his chest as he was slammed backwards into the wall, feeling the drywall and glass from a frame break behind him and powder his back and shoulders. His head shot up in surprise as he gathered himself again and saw her standing posed ready to fight.
Mierda.
The spiked metal knuckles covering her hands sparking lightly every few seconds, an advancement of Winston no doubt. He hadn't caught when she put them on but it didn't matter, he was just glad it wasn't her hand blades, the CQC master certainly still had as much power as she did twenty years ago and with her knuckles in place he needed to keep distance if she planned to fight.
The hound sat idly by as she and Reaper stood apart from each other in the den room. He hadn't pulled his shotguns out and planned not to, the range he would have to be at to avoid being maimed himself would render them almost useless anyway, the woman glared him down as his back kept to the wall. He knew her tactics, they had trained half of Overwatch and all of Blackwatch personally together, fighting her would give himself away and seeing as she was trying to bait him into giving away something, he knew better than to try. Chances were good he'd already given away whatever she was after. He'd never been good at outmaneuvering her.
"Where is Morrison?" He asked again.
"Ye'r set on thinkin' I know where 'e is? He's dead." She rolled her eyes, fists still ready to throw him back into another wall the moment she had a shot.
"He was here, Ó Conghaile." he surged forward his body dissipating the moment her fist surged forward then Reaper formed behind her, wrapping her arms back behind her and a foot between her legs. His face a hair away from her ear, "Where is he?" The frame that had been broken fell to the floor now that Reaper was not holding its shattered pieces together against the wall, the loud clattering claiming both of their attention.
"Don't ya' be thinkin' for a minute ya' can intimidate me, I know exactly who ya'are." Her statement came out more like a demand or a dare and she put up no resistance to his hold over her.
"Is that so?"
"I'm married to ya', aren't I, Gabriel?"
He could have come back from her statement until his gaze had met the photo that was now on the floor, sending his body into a moment of shock, enough to relax his hold for her to take advantage. By the time he registered he had heard her call word to the hound, it was too late, he was pinned to the floor with Lucien and Valentin, whom had been hiding in the back he assumed, on him. She was settled on top of him with a broken smile, the hounds both had his arms and legs locked by weight of jaws, collectively he had nearing four-hundred pounds sitting on him. He could feel the blood pooling in his chest from her hit earlier and the hounds had enough bite maintained that he could feel blood trickling but they did not apply more pressure than their mistress demanded.
"How?"
"Gabriel. Don't be an idiot. Ya' gave it all away the moment ya' saw Jackie and even before then I suspected it because the boys didn' give a shit 'bout ya' bein'ere." She rolled her eyes. "Not gonna' lie. I've definitely missed bein' on top of ya'." She laughed loudly, almost snorting at her own perversion. She still hadn't seemed to grasped the concept of appropriate and inappropriate timing, obviously.
"Stop fucking around. Where is he?"
"Ya' don't be seein' ye'r wife for six years, come back on the anniversary of our daughter's death and ye'r only askin' about Morrison? What the actual fuck, Gabriel."
He stopped pushing against the weight of the dogs and stared at her the mask blocking his visage from her- thankfully. "I'm not Gabriel. I'm not the man you married. Not anymore."
"But that's why ye'r doin' this. Don't lie to me or ye'rself, Gabriel. Ye'r still you. Ye'r bitter because ya' never dealt with Aoife's death."
"Where is Morrison, Marigold." he demanded, his tone coming out as a low growl though there was some inflection on her name. He refused to admit she was right, mostly because he couldn't admit to himself that it was because of Aoife's death. Because of what happened.
"Ya never call me by my full name, don't be startin' now, I won't play nice if ya' do." Reaper huffed out at her in annoyance.
"...where is he, Rigs?"
"That's more like it." She cheered up, "But, I don't know. Hasn't been 'ere in about six months. He came by for two days and a'vent seen'em since. Ye'r snitch gave ya' old intel." she laughed, Reaper beginning to feel the slick drool from the dog's seep into his clothes and coat over the pierced skin.
"You and Morrison were best friends, even after you left Overwatch. Don't play me for a fool to think you don't know where he is." he needed to remind her who was truly in charge of this situation and it was quickly seeming like it was in her hands.
"Jack was your best friend, mi sol." She laughed, "Besides, who is the fool being pinned?" proving his theory that she thought she had control. Lucien's grip lessened for a fraction of a second giving Reaper an opening to move, fading into smoke again, the hounds both dropped to the floor and Reaper took control of her arms again, his chest pressed tightly to her back.
Even in the position they were, his heart and mind traced this feeling back to a key memory. One of many he had spent six years fighting off.
"You, mi cielo." He felt her shiver at what had once been her term of endearment from him, but she suppressed most of it, composing herself quickly, turning her head but a little so she could see him from the corner of her eye.
"Ó Conghaile." Gabriel coughed, his body wrapped protectively over the woman who laid still in his arms, her back molded against his chest, he felt her breathe in and felt the warmth of her body- she was alive. The Overwatch agent let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and tried to roll her over, finding the action to be nearly impossible with one of his arms crushed under heavy debris from the explosion and the other wrapped around her.
"Reyes?" the small woman asked a few moments later, her voice faint as she tried to twist in his embrace, she looked up at him and gave a pitifully weak smile. The gash on her cheek was wider now, more scrapes and cuts decorated her features from what Gabriel could see, her face covered in black soot and browns and red from blood and dirt. A drop of blood hit her chest that fell from the gash that ran from his lip to chin, giving her an apologetic frown as a response. She winced as her body turned properly to face him from their position, the injury to her torso still didn't seem to be bothering her but he knew it was more than she cared to mention. Ó Conghaile looked side to side, "Thanks." she whispered, noted the damage he'd taken.
In some lame attempt to be funny he commented, "We're even again." she had saved him just a few minutes before, at great risk to her own life, which he was thankful for as he was sure she was thankful for him saving her. She looked like she might have been blushing but he couldn't tell under everything covering her face. "Now, I can't... really... get up from here." he glared over to the debris pinning down his arm, Ó Conghaile furrowed her brow and nodded to him.
"I got'ya." she began shimmying out of his arms, scooting back once she didn't risk kneeing Gabriel's already gashed up face. "Ailbhe, Eoin." two wolfhounds clamouring out from the rubble, having taken shelter behind a broken construct and racing for their mistress. She wobbled behind the debris crushing his arm, grabbing onto two exposed steel beams that were poking out from the bulk of the debris, she called to her hounds in Gaelic and as she pulled from behind, they pushed, eventually giving Gabriel just enough space to tear his arm out from underneath, rolling away from the offending object. He groaned loudly upon seeing his arm but ignored the pain- or tried to. Ó Conghaile hobbled back over to him, settling against the blown out wall he was laying in front of.
Gabriel shoved himself up with his one good arm, leaning against the wall next to her. "Thanks." she commented again, staring at his arm, the bone of his forearm visibly snapped. He said nothing as he pulled a canteen off his hip and passed it to the woman leaned against a bombed out wall with him and her hounds, the four surrounded by bodies and rubble. Emerald eyes hazed over from exhaustion looked at the canteen with some hesitation. Gabriel pulled off the cap with his teeth, both not caring to mention the blood that was steadily dripping down his chin. He pushed the open canteen back and even closer to her now, eyes fixated on the bodies laid out on the ground.
She took the canteen from him, putting it down next to herself as she dug out a clean cloth from her fatigues, dabbing it over his open wound with surprising delicacy. She held the cloth to his chin, taking the canteen up into her free hand and drinking down the contents for a brief moment before her body convulsed, nearly throwing the canteen away from herself and the cloth away from his lip, the canteen being glared at as if it had offended her ancestors. "Is that whiskey?"
"Yeah." his tone made it sound like it was obvious, "What else should I have passed you after this?" Gabriel's arm that wasn't practically shattered swept over the scene before them, earning him a genuine laugh from her.
She looked over the sea of destruction and let out a long sigh, "Irish Whiskey." she muttered, this time earning her a genuine laugh from him.
"Lo siento, I hadn't been expecting to cater to the Irish. In Cali we drink Lost Rep." Gabriel chuckled, as he took back the canteen and down its contents, the cut that tore open his lip burned as the alcohol passed over it, forcing him to groan in displeasure.
"Got'ta be prepared." she gave Gabriel a deviant grin, the deep gash in her cheek tearing against the dried blood at the muscle change, a fresh drop of blood dripped down her cheek. Her smile did not fade as she used her sleeve to wipe away the blood, ash, and debris from her face, exposing her heavily freckled cheeks now that the black and red had been smeared away. Procuring a flask from a pocket in her pants, a small wink aimed his way. "To what remains." she commented, Gabriel repeating her words as they lazily clinked their containers, taking a rather long drink of her flask and he another of his canteen.
"What's your plan now?" Gabriel asked, genuinely curious. He knew she was smart enough to know Ireland had fallen to the omnics and could not return home, what was left of the Irish would have to find refuge elsewhere from their homeland.
The woman's brow furrowed once she thought over the question, she placed the cloth back to his lip and remained silent for a long time. To lose your home, your family, your country in less than twenty hours, Gabriel refused to think of how that would hit him if he was in her position. Her head hit back against the wall, staring at the opening in the ceiling towards the smoke escaping the facility, "Accept Overwatch's offer." her eyes were closed and if not for the fact Gabriel's arm nearest her was of no use, he'd have wrapped an arm around her in some attempt at comfort pushing his head forward a bit and nuzzling his face into her outstretched had that covered his lip, they sat there in silence before she continued, "This cannot happen ta'anyone else." her words choked out, "Ever."
"Ó Con-"
"Rigs."
"Rigs," he corrected himself, "when S&R get here, how about dinner?"
Rigs smile lit up like the fires surrounding them, her eyes still moist from tears she refused to let fall for the loss of her country, "Dinner sounds nice."
He felt her breathe against his chest, the fiery mane of curls tangling into his mask as she let her head relax back slightly breathing in the familiar smell of almonds- she wasn't one to change her hair routine once she found one that worked, and years later she still used the same shampoo. Then again, even as basically the undead he used the same cologne and aftershave he'd used in life. It made him feel more... human to continue his routine. She gave him no struggle, he could feel her body grow heavier from the sorrow in her heart.
His mind still unable to forget the photo that now laid broken on the floor.
"Aoife wouldn't want to see you like this, mi sol." Rigs commented sadly, memories attached to the photo flooding Reaper, unable to fight it off anymore than he had. He was forced to remember just who he used to be. Who he was trying to forget he used to be.
"Oh, dear, Aoife! You certainly do look lovely!" Ana laughed, the young girl of five twirling in her dress happily.
"Thank you, Lady Ana!" Aoife curtsied and Jacques putting Yule and Francis down as he quickly moved behind his twin sister to trip her leg that had extended out behind her, Ana was late to call it out as Aoife began to rise. "Ah!" the little girl cried out, feeling her leg struggle to get free, Yule yapping loudly in tandem with her scream. Aoife lost balance and as she fell forward her father came up and scooped her into his arms. "Papi!" her squeal turned to delight as Gabriel glared at his oldest (by eight minutes, Jacques made sure everyone knew) who shrugged and acted like he did nothing wrong.
"Jacques." his voice was low and demanding of attention that the boy gave instantly. "Comportate." he nodded, embarrassed to get in trouble in front of Ana (whom all of Overwatch knew the boy adored).
"Oh, look at ya' three! My loves." the Irish woman laughed, her husband coming rushing in to save his little girl and Jacques in trouble for something that was the picture of her life day in and out. And it was beautiful. It was perfect.
"Come on, we're going to be late for the parade!" Ana noted aloud, touching her watch lightly once. "Reinhardt, Jack and Torb are already there with Fareeha!" Gabriel went to put down Aoife who let out an ear piercing shriek, everyone turned to the two in surprise unsure of what could have caused such a sound to come from the child, a deep rumble of warning erupting from Eoin's chest before he was even sure what was happening, Yule beginning to yap again in an attempt to mirror his father.
"Carry me, papi!" she cried, her arms gripped tightly around his neck, hanging freely as Gabriel looked to his wife for help. They had both agreed to be more firm with her, though that was easier said than done with Gabriel. From the moment Aoife was born Gabriel had melted for her and he still didn't seem to have the heart to tell her no. While away from her father, Aoife was incredibly shy, well-mannered and reserved... with him... she knew she could abuse the power she had on him and she took full advantage.
Rigs made a call to the hounds, Eoin sitting patiently with Francis and Yule mirroring their father, watching their mistress head toward her husband and child. "Aoife. Ye'r a big girl, princesa." she had a hand lightly pressed to the child's back and her other on her husband's shoulder, "Why don't ya' walk to the parade, papi can hold ya' once we're there- ye'll have the best view." she winked and the child reluctantly released her father, knowing her mother wouldn't be as easy to sway. "Yes, mamaí." she pouted, the small curly red-headed child gripped her father's extended hand and stuck to him like glue as they moved off from the park they had met at just beyond the traffic and bustle of the parade beyond. A few other families and friends had gathered with their respective parties as they had, but it was much easier to find a place to park and get your loved ones together here than among thousands of others.
The five of them headed off, Ana discussing various combat jargon with Jacques who had taken up a heavy interest in the subject after he found out Ana was a world renowned sniper, Francis being carried loosely in the boy's arms, yipping cheerfully now and then. Gabriel walking close behind his wife and Eoin that led their pack into the throng of chaos and confetti, he picked Yule up so the tiny hound wouldn't be lost among it, Aoife would be beside herself if she was without her pup. Aoife trying to occasionally climb up her father's arm and get him to carry her. The team found Reinhardt easily, a small cluster of attractive young women flirting back and forth with him towards the back of the gathering, the young man showing off his muscles, a crowd forming with Reinhardt in the middle of a crowd of civilians. "Reinhardt" Gabriel called to him, garnering the attention of the man. He nodded himself off from the group of women and civilians and jogged toward them. "See you're enjoying the scene." Gabe rolled his eyes at his friend, earning a laugh from the man.
"Torbjörn and Morrison are out by the fudge shop, Torb insists it's because it's a good viewing spot, not that he and Fareeha want to stuff their faces." Reinhardt laughed.
"We all know the truth." Ana laughed.
"I heard you and your brother are about to have a birthday, little lady." Reinhardt commented to Aoife who had tucked behind her father's leg once Reinhardt gave her attention, her arms wrapping around his right knee and poking out just slightly to see Reinhardt and then gasping and hiding back behind him. "Oh, come now, lil'one, I'm your god-papi, I'd never hurt ya'." he reassured her, the thought making Gabriel cringe slightly as he'd never been the biggest fan of Reinhardt but Riggy had been very insistent that he be one of the godparents of the three they picked (the others being Jack and Ana), Gabriel crouching down to her level as well as Reinhardt, Aoife's pup whining to his young mistress from her father's arm, Aoife burrowing herself into her father's chest, hiding her face.
Gabriel whispered something to her that nobody else could hear and she turned to Reinhardt, she'd often expressed this behaviour around him and they'd yet to figure out why as she'd known him her whole life and had only positive memories of him. Rigs had surmised it was perhaps that Aoife was trying to get him to feel sorry for 'frightening' her and would eventually be willing to give her anything she wanted as she did to Gabriel and Jack. Aoife was incredibly intelligent, far beyond her years, Gabriel and Rigs put nothing past her and that was the only likely explanation. Aoife gave him a shy smile and curtsied to him as she had to Ana earlier, earning an 'aw' from the German soldier, the sound of his voice sent her into a full retreat back into her father's arms. Aoife took advantage of her father's crouched position and climbed up easily onto his shoulder, snatching her puppy into her arms from her father. "Aoife." he laughed, he knew he should put her back down but he made no attempt to stop her from getting comfortable, earning him a glare from his wife. "Lo siento, mi cielo."
"No, you're not." she laughed, kissing his cheek softly and her daughter crouching down with her cheek toward her mother, Rigs placing a kiss on the offered cheek as well, a loud giggle coming from the little one.
"Over there," Reinhardt pointed off to the south toward where the parade would begin, "I see'em." Torbjörn was savouring a bite of his fudge, Fareeha standing on top of a bench in front of the fudge shop, Jack rested next to him with his arms draped over the back of the bench.
"Oh! I see them!" Jacques shouted, standing close to his 'uncle' Reinhardt.
"How about I race you to them?" Reinhardt offered.
"You're on!" Jacques put Francis into his mother's arms and the two took off together.
"You deal with this every day?" Ana asked, an exhausted look on her face. "I thought Fareeha was everywhere."
"Wouldn't change it." Rigs laughed, watching as her son and Reinhardt both nearly ran over two elderly women, she winced at the same time her husband did. "Well, except that." she herself looking exhausted for a moment, the puppy in her arms yapping at her and Aoife laughing maniacally.
Gabriel and Rigs had stayed up many nights discussing how they would handle life if Aoife ever became an evil mastermind and lured her twin into doing her bidding- they were sure she'd already started and was well on her way to becoming overlord of the galaxy, her laughter at seeing her brother nearly plow down the elderly was not helping their nerves any.
"Morrison!" Ana called as they met with their group, waving lightly to the men, her daughter lighting up to see her mother.
Jack gave a casual nod, Jacques excitedly blathering to his godfather he was named after about anything that Morrison might have missed since they last saw each other.
"Jack!" Rigs extended out one arm, holding Francis close to her chest with her other, the two friends exchanging a brief hug and a quick kiss to each other's cheeks, Gabriel and Jack embracing each other as brothers and pulling back away.
"Good to see you, brother." Gabriel commented, looking over his friend.
"You're looking well." Jack noted, "You're looking lovely, lady Aoife." he nodded to the dolled up little girl and she blushed, hiding behind her father's head, her arms wrapped around his neck to the point of almost choking him. A loud bang of drums signaled the beginning of the parade, forcing everyone to turn their attention to it as the first float came out and into view.
"Papi! Look!" Aoife squealed, pointing towards the elephant that was coming behind the first float.
"Would you look at that!" Torb shouted back to her in matching excitement as the child, being a child at heart himself.
The parade mesmerised the children, all (and Torbjörn) unable to look away as the floats cascaded by, the adults all engaging in idle chatter among themselves. With each character that waved in Aoife's direction received the most thrilled wave back without fail from the excited child. As it came to a close, Aoife was nearly asleep on her father's shoulders despite her desperate attempt to fight it. The final float passed by and Aoife waved to the very last character, hugging her father's neck and resting her head on his, Yule had found a nook between Aoife's lap and Gabriel's neck to stay put in, Aoife's face buried into his hair (per Rigs request, he'd grown his hair back out on the top into a short undercut, she and Aoife really seemed to enjoy his hair...). "Do you want to take a picture, Aoife?" her mother asked, looking up to the small child whose eyes lit up at the question, a second wind seeming to catch her.
"SI!" she shouted, dancing on her father's shoulders and began trying to wiggle down.
"Ok, bunch up!" Ana called, scooching everyone close together, grabbing a passerby who was more than happy to lend a hand.
Torbjörn standing up front and center with his arms raised, Reinhardt and Ana wrapped next to each other, Fareeha in front of her mother, Jack and Gabriel side-by-side with casual grins, Jack's arm around his good friend's shoulder, Aoife sitting in her father's arms and Yule in hers, Jacques next to Jack with a joyful grin on his face and Francis hanging in the boy's arms, Eoin and Rigs next to Gabriel, Rigs hand lightly rested on her daughter's leg. The passerby was thanked by all and moved off to their party, Ana admiring the photo and demanded one more- just the Reyes family. Gabriel and Rigs standing next to each other giving a small kiss to her husband's cheek, Aoife and Yule staying in their place in Gabriel's arms, her brother in the middle, the wolfhound puppy, Francis, still clutched in his arms, Eoin sitting next to his mistress proudly. It was the last picture they had as a family before Aoife died a month later.
Something in Gabriel seemed more awake and what was Reaper lessened, Reaper was still in control but the man he once was still wanted out, still wanted control but was lost in his own pain to get there. Whatever Angela had done to him... he still wasn't sure, but it was hard to even understand himself as he had the woman he loved pinned in his hold while out hunting for their friends and comrades. Reaper regained control quickly as the memories came through again but with a darker tone.
"Gabriel." Ana called, Gabriel turning to her in surprise- he was out on a mission, very limited NTK with Gerard out in the deep thick of Omnic territory. "You and Gerard need to head to Criss Life. There's been an incident. I'll take over here."
"What happened?" he growled lowly, Criss Life was a well renowned emergency hospital in France, all agents of Overwatch were sent to their facility in Switzerland so he knew it wasn't an incident with his wife who was out on the field presently too. His kids were with Jack at their home in Geneva but he severely doubted that anything would happen in Jack's care.
"I-I... I've been ordered not to tell you, just get there quickly and safely." in very audible and justified frustration, Gabriel took off with Gerard close on him to the landing point just beyond enemy territory a few miles out.
Three hours later, Gabriel's life was shattered, never before had the word "time" seemed so dark until that day. He looked over and confirmed the identity of his daughter's body with his wife who lost all composure upon seeing the mangled body in the hospital bed, a blur of nurses and doctors passed through, some voicing quiet condolences, others averting their gaze completely as tears welled up in their own eyes. Gerard stood behind them, out of the way of the medical team and Gerard holding Eoin back as the hound struggled to get to his distraught mistress. Gabriel held onto his wife as she collapsed into him, her body trembling against him. "Aoife. No. No. No." her hands raised over her face, one hand slowly reached for the lifeless body of the child but was stopped short as Gabriel pulled her hand back and held her close to him, they both knew it would only make it worse if Rigs tried to hold her. Gabriel only nodded toward the coroner, he simply covered up the girl right before a nurse passed him the paperwork they'd gathered about Aoife.
"Jacques." Rigs sobbed, unable to contain her sorrow. "Jacques, e's stable, right? He and Jack ar' still alive, right?" her voice trembled as her body. The doctor's had said Aoife was at the highest risk, so they'd been focused on her to the point of losing sanity the last hour since they'd arrived.
The nurse gave a pitiful look to the both of them and to Gerard. "The young boy she came in with, I assume?" Gabriel nodded, Rigs bursting out 'yes' as soon as she finished. "Let me get one of the acting doctors to explain his... situation..." she bit her lip and ran off to grab the doctor.
"What does that mean?" Rigs called, "Gabriel. What does she mean?" his wife looked up at him with the most heartbroken look in her eyes he'd never thought or imagined he'd see, she looked to him for answers he didn't have and tried to make sense of it in his head as it was happening but nothing was. He just continued to hold her up as she sobbed, "My babies." she blubbered out between sobs.
"Mister and Mrs. Reyes?" a voice said hesitantly, both of them looking to the voice and seeing a taller woman with pristine ebony skin and hair pulled up into a tight ponytail and a thick white coat draped over her, the nurse from earlier standing behind her.
"Where's our son?" Rigs cried, her accent thickened in her pain and made the doctor squint to try and understand her for a brief moment.
"He's stable for now. If he makes it through tonight without incident, I suspect he will live. We... we did have to amputate his legs, and he lost his left hand-" she was going to continue but Rigs asked her quietly,
"May we see him? Please." the doctor nodded and turned to lead them out though she turned back when she saw the hesitance in leaving the body of their other child.
"Let's give them a moment." she commented to Gerard and closed the door behind him and Eoin, leaving Gabriel, Rigs and their daughter's body alone. It was then, as Gabriel looked around the barren hospital room that he noticed the small bodies of Francis and Yule covered up on a gurney across the room from them, Rigs noticed it after Gabriel, her eyes squeezing shut as if to fight off a nightmare. Everything in him wished it was a nightmare, wished he could make it better or change this cruelty somehow.
Rigs began speaking a prayer in Gaelic, Gabriel had learned enough to know the basis of it but he'd not mastered her heritage language as she had his. She kissed the forehead of their child's body, the sheet keeping space between them. Her mass of red curls that mirrored her mother's the only visible proof she was beneath the sheets. Gabriel ran his hand over her head once and kissed her forehead as Rigs had before the two exit. He'd been unable to say anything, he was thankful for Rigs ability to ask what he couldn't seem to.
"This way." The doctor and nurse led them off, Gerard staying back to give them space and keep Eoin calm, they turned at the nearest corner, the first thing they saw was Morrison standing by a the first door on the right of the hall to them. His arm was wrapped in a sling and bruised and bloodied from what could be seen, a thick cut running from the lower of his neck and past what his gown allowed to be seen, a crutch was rested against the wall that would likely go unused by its owner. "Sir-" Rigs stopped the doctor and Jack looked away from the room, his face twisted into a mix of emotions the moment he saw Rigs and Gabriel.
"I-I'm s... so sorry... It happened so fast... I didn't... How is Aoife?" he asked reluctantly, giving up trying to understand what had happened. Gabriel looked away, holding Rigs who had clung back to her husband. Gerard had bit onto his lip and looked to his feet, the need to have a long drink or ten being the only thing keeping him from losing his mind himself. Their reactions were an answer enough and Jack stared at them in disbelief. "No..." his good hand balled up into a fist, blame overwhelming the man- they'd been in his care. He should have been able to do something to stop this.
The doctor, thankfully, broke through the despair. "He's asleep right now. But, I think it will help to see him and for him to have his family close." The doctor let them in and they saw him instantly, Jacques laid on the hospital bed, bandages covering most of him as he slept with difficulty, his breathing ragged and heart rate elevated even in his medicated sleep.
"Mo mhac!" Rigs breathed out, rushing to her son's side, there was an absence of legs under the sheets- as the doctor had said, his arms were rested over the sheets and his left wrist was bandaged over where his hand had once been, the other covered in small cuts and a bruise by the wrist. "Mo mhac..." she repeated, her hand caressing her son's cheek and resting her forehead to his. "Jacques, mo mhac, is mamai anseo." her voice cracked as she spoke.
Gabriel pulled a chair up and gently sat his wife down in it as she maintained contact with their son, her hand over his chest as the other brushed through his hair. "Eoin." Rigs called, the dog breaking from Gerard easily at his mistress' call and was at her side with his head rested on her lap. Gabriel gave a slight nod to Gerard who returned the gesture and walked out, Morrison began to open his mouth to speak and Gabriel held a hand up, shaking his head slightly.
Not yet. They needed time.
Morrison departed off with Gerard instead of staying, the doctor leaving with a heartfelt apology and directed them to the nurse, "If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask." she gave them a soft, pained smile, then turned to leave, extending the same gesture to Morrison and Gerard. They asked for nothing, said nothing and simply watched their son sleep, after four hours and eight evaluations from the doctors, Rigs fell asleep in the chair with her arms and head rested on the bed, holding their son's hand.
Once Rigs had been asleep for twenty minutes and the round left, for the first time in years, Gabriel finally broke down and cried. He fell back into the wall across from them and out of sight of the slitted windows that showed into the room. He felt his heart harden, his soul shatter and sense of self leave him. A part of him had died and though he wasn't complete on details yet, he knew he blamed Morrison- fairly or not- he blamed the man who he called brother for Aoife's death and the pain that was sure to follow Jacques life. Eoin saw Gabriel fall back against the wall, covering his face as he cried over the loss of his little angel and the trauma his son was enduring, the hound moving from his mistress and settling next to Gabriel and allowing him to become a support for the man.
Reaper threw Rigs away from himself, falling back from the woman with a disgruntled glare. He stepped back once more and heard glass crack under his boot. Rigs and Reaper both looked down to see he'd stepped onto the photo of them all at the parade. "Ye've never said her name since what 'appened, Gabriel." she didn't have to tell him that. He knew he hadn't. In all these years, he'd yet to say Aoife's name aloud or even talk about her since she died.
After Aoife passed, Jacques struggles with therapy and Rigs being diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer that occurred from working too closely to hazardous materials Overwatch had been in control of (Jacques thriving over his trials and Rigs, Gabriel assumed Rigs had as well overcome hers as Rig's cancer had come out of remission at the time he and Jack destroyed HQ yet she stood healthy before him), much of Gabriel's work suffered as he watched his dream life crumble around him without any way to repair it. Friends slowly began avoiding him, comrades began to fear him instead of respect him... He was a shell of the man he'd once been. And he blamed Jack, more than he should, likely. Gabriel had been a husband, a father, leader and hero to many and very slowly Gabriel become more like a villain out of necessity than want, a fact he despised about himself. Before he knew it, he was lost and there was no light to pull him out anymore.
That blame he held against Jack did not dissipate, in fact it only got worse once they passed over Gabriel and gave the command of Overwatch to Jack instead. It made sense, it truly did, Gabriel was a logistician after all, he knew they made the right choice, but it didn't help any by shooting more wounds into a bleeding heart. That blame and anger did not go unnoticed by anyone within Overwatch and even among the UN. Nobody said anything, nor dared to try, he did his job and went home to a suffering wife and son, he just as broken as them. He only wanted to get his job done and it didn't matter how, partially praying it would kill him in the process though he'd never realised that he'd actually wished so much for death until he had died and all he felt was peace.
Then he was brought back. Like this.
"Gabriel." Rigs was staring at him, her eyes wide and pitiful- she reminded him of a beaten puppy when she looked at him like that.
"What?" he growled out, glaring at her though she couldn't see it through his mask.
"Don't glare at me like that." his shoulders squared back at the comment, "I've known ya' most my life, Gabriel. I know when ye'r bein' a jackass. Ridiculous mask or no."
"A mask is better than what's beneath, woman."
"Do not get hissy with me, mi sol." she growled, her fists tightened up and his body already began to fade to smoke in an attempt to dodge her blow should one come. "Ye'r still Gabriel, my husband, and the father to our children. Until ya' can even say Aoife's name, ye'r just gonna be a shadow of who ya use'ta be. I know Angela, she didn't mess up. This." she motioned over his appearance, "This is ye'r own personal struggle, Gabriel."
That realisation had never crossed his mind, the thought that perhaps Angela had revived him properly but his heart was so heavy and so clouded with death and darkness that he came back as Reaper and not himself... the daily pain he lived in, the suffering and misery... his body was stuck in limbo between life and death because he himself couldn't decided if he wanted to live or die, to grieve or give up...
Reaper reached out with a clawed hand, lightly grazing over the tattoo covering Rig's left hand, she had gotten the tattoo just before their wedding with a similar one under the glove on Gabriel's left hand. It was a gesture he had done so many times before out of comfort to himself and for her through their many years of marriage. She'd endured all of this with her head held high among their friends and family. At home, he'd held her many nights as she cried but he'd rarely let it show, even to her, that he was in pain, that his heart was broken just as hers.
She knew when he was upset, sometimes before even he really did. She was so damn brilliant and knew him so well. Rigs never said anything about it, they both knew he wouldn't respond if she tried, so she simply made him his favourite tea, a hand touching him gently as she sat next to him humming a soft tune while reading each time- it was the best therapy.
Rigs turned her hand up to take his but now was not the time, not yet. Gabriel vanished into smoke. He couldn't be near her right now, he wasn't near as prepared to face her as he wanted to believe he was. He needed to think on this revelation and needed to decide if this life was worth taking back or not, or if he even had the will to.
Thank you for reading, and, please, I implore you to leave feedback.
Copyrights belong to their respective owners aside from the OC's, Marigold 'Rigs' Reyes, Aoife Reyes, and Jacques Reyes.
