Deepest apologizes for not working on other stuff. Some personal things came up and kinda ruined my mode. I'm doing better now. I will continue to bring you the latest and greatest Mercy76. But, until then, "enjoy" this.
Her hand tightened around the edges of the chair in which she sat. Holding her breath, she forced the tears in her sad azure eyes to stay put. If they broke free, rolled down her cheeks, all that hard work would be put to waste. And Fareeha? Well, she would be displeased. It was the fifth time she'd done up Angela's makeup that morning.
A hand gave her shoulder a good squeeze.
"I promise I won't be mad," Fareeha whispered to her. "I know this is hard, especially for you." Her darker orbs panned over to Lena. Lena, the usually upbeat, chipper one. The one who now sat still as stone on a chair. Eyes focused on just the floor. Saddest look on her face.
"Lena," Fareeha went to step to the brunette, but Angela's hand caught her off guard. She flinched. She wasn't expecting Ang to react. The exasperated look on her face cuing Angela.
"Please," her pleading blue eyes swallowed Fareeha whole, "don't let go. I… I can't…." The tears crested the edges of her lids. The clear liquid fell down her cheeks, marring all that powder into a mess of trenches.
"Ange," the Egyptian's hand fell loosely around Angela's soft, shivering hand, "I'm here. I won't leave." Their eyes met. "Promise."
Standing from where she sat, Lena's hand fell on Angela's opposite shoulder. "Me too." Again, Angela sought out eyes. Her eyes. When they met, Lena nodded. "Promise."
Lip quivering, Ang forced a smile on her face. "Th-thanks," she managed to mutter out despite her throat being a burning hot mess of phlegm and stomach acid.
"Hey," Lena's tender touch erased the troughs on Angela's face, "that's what friends are for. We'll always be here." She seized both hands and graced her saddened friend with a pretty smile.
"Damn straight."
A man's voice caused all three head's to swivel.
"How's my angel doing?" Jesse stepped forward, a small box wrapped in black paper ever present in his hands. "I know it's not traditional, but… well," he passed it to her, setting it gently in her lap. "I think you need this."
Brows furrowing, Ang looked up from the square gift to Jesse. A look of confusion evident in her sapphire orbs. A gift? What… what could he possibly be giving her?
Not wanting to be rude, she turned her attention to the box on her lap. Slowly, she peeled back the black paper. As it fell haphazardly to the sides, her brows furrowed further.
It was an unmarked kraft box. It was smooth with flecks of color, likely recycled material.
What… what was within those brown walls?
She poked at the top. Pathetically, her fingers wrapped around the edges. With a slow teeter totter, she coaxed off the lid.
A gasp filled the silence that engulfed the room.
"I know it's not the same but," Jesse's hand ranked through his hair. "Jack… hell, you know it. He loved you. He picked this out and begged me to hold onto it."
Angela's fingers danced lightly around the edges of the box. She pawed lightly at the rippling fabric that swarmed around this delicate little item of pale gold and diamonds.
It was beyond beautiful. It was absolutely breathtaking to the point where Angela forgot to breathe. Sucking in a gasp of air, she swallowed the lump in her now dry throat.
"W-why?" Her eyes looked to Jesse's for answers.
The cowboy in the black suit shrugged. "He kept saying he didn't want to do it too soon. Said if he kept it in his pocket, he'd ask you immediately." There was a fleeting smile on his lips. "I…" The smile faded. "I don't know if this is right but…." He chewed his lip. "You deserved to know. This, this is rightfully yours."
Dropping to his knees, Jesse wrapped his hands around Angela's. "And I know I'm not Jack, but," he seized the engagement ring from the box, "would you do him the honor of accepting this and knowing that, despite the unspoken words, he loved you. Wholeheartedly. And without a hint of doubt."
At this point, Angela was a mess of tears. Whatever blush and foundation clung to her face was now caking on the edges of her jaw. She couldn't contain herself. This… this was beyond anything she could imagine.
Jack Morrison. An engagement ring for her.
He… he wanted that future. He wanted her.
Hand covering her trembling lip, Angela looked down at Jesse with a crestfallen expression. Pulling her hand to the side, she slipped from her chair to kneel beside the cowboy.
"I do," she smiled. "Yes."
Eyes ablaze with shimmering tears, she accepted the lithe ring on her finger. Even if she could never actually kiss him at an alter, even if she could never indulge in a honeymoon, even if she could never have two beautiful babies–Leona and Jr, she couldn't say no.
Jack was hers. Forever hers. In health and sickness. Through heaven and hell. Even life and in death. He was hers.
A firm squeeze on her shoulders sent her head twisting up to see Jesse's extended hand. He flashed her a smile. "C'mon," he cooed, "lemme help you up so Fareeha here can fix your face."
Ang's brows fell together. "Fix my face?"
"You uh," he gestured to the running makeup, "look more like a horror movie actress than Overwatch's beautiful angel."
Her brows crashed against her still sad blue eyes. "You sayin' I look ugly?"
"Nooo," he scoffed. "I'm just saying you might want to tidy up. There's a crowd gathering out there."
Ang's fist landed lightly against Jesse's chest. "Jesse," she made herself smile, "thank you."
His shaking head broke her smile. "Don't thank me, Ang. This isn't how it was supposed to be." Stepping back, he bowed to the three girls. "I'll, uh, see you out front. Once you," he gestured a mess on a face, "you know, work on that." Skedaddling before Ang could throw something at him, Jesse rounded the corner, leaving the girls alone.
"You know he's right," Lena bit her lip. "You look like one of those horror movie stars."
Ang rolled her eyes. "Good to know my tears are good for something," she chided. Though Fareeha was quick to nip her attitude in the butt. "Sorry," she muttered.
"How about less is more?" Fareeha took a cloth to her face. Slowly, she pulled away the color. Pulled away the mask.
"Less is more?" Ang's brow hiked.
"Makeup." The raven smiled. "You don't need much. Jack fell in love with you when you were a sweaty mess. The world can see him as he saw you. Perfect. Not needing this stuff." To reiterate her statement, she pushed the whole mess of cosmetics off the table. "You do your eyes and I'll fix up your hair."
Hands trembling, she couldn't stop the wave of emotions that poured down and out. Each silent tear a knife that cut her deeper.
Jack was gone. He wasn't coming home.
She'd never see him smile.
She'd never hear him laugh.
She'd never get to breath him in.
Kiss him.
Make love to him.
Her finger burned. Her eyes fell on the ring.
Never get to marry him.
Wrapped up in her thoughts, she remained frozen before his grave. That open hole in the earth. His casket, a fine mahogany, just the way he liked it, surrounded by nothing but dirt.
He was alone. All in his plot, his hole in the ground.
A light nudge caused her to gasp. It was a painful breath of air, one that tore into her core. She felt dizzy. Weak. Numb.
A hand steadied her.
Jesse. His sad eyes reminded her of so many happier times. Brighter days. Days where Jesse would tease Jack that he was going to steal his girl if he didn't kiss her already.
Eyes scrolling down, she looked at the single white rose in her hand. Her fingers curled around its thorn-less stem.
Chest tight, eyes burning, and heart in pieces, she stepped forward. The tip of her black boot parallel to the edge of his grave.
"I love you," she whispered breathlessly so that no one could hear her.
Kneeling, she escorted the single rose down to its resting place. Right there, across the casket where his heart would be, had they found a body.
"May you rest in peace, my hero. I'll fight for your tomorrow and, when the time comes, fly home to you. The hero needs his angel. I promise. I'll find you. I'll always find you." Again, her silent words fell deaf to curious ears.
Swallowing hard, she rose slowly from his side. Head turning, she looked over her shoulder to the crowd. A sea of nameless people. Faces she'd never known, never would know. Strangers who all came to grieve. Mourn the loss of a hero. A friend. A son. A should-be husband.
Without thought, her hands wrapped around each other.
With a slow blink, she turned back to his grave.
"Goodbye, Jack Morrison."