1. Checking/Savings account. Current balance: $4532.44. Petitioner asks to close account and split balance evenly between parties.
Gabriel's come to expect that Torbjörn's omnic intelligence reports will always be a little off, but never before has he been so wildly inaccurate. The few dozen omnics he reported to be using the enormous shopping centre in Addis Ababa as a fortress turned out to be a few hundred. Gabriel's original plan to sneak past enemy lines and take them by surprise went amiss the second he and Jack stepped into the abandoned mall. The omnics' motion sensors and infrared scanners locked onto them almost immediately, and they were forced to make a mad dash for the exit.
With their enhanced speed they're able to outrun the horde of omnics, but they aren't nearly equipped to take them all down alone. As they charge forward Gabriel formulates a plan in his head to get them both out safely. Prior to their mission he studied the mall's layout, so he knows there's an emergency exit at the end of the next corridor and down a few flights of stairs. They just need to make it there without getting turned into Swiss cheese first.
Gabriel thinks Jack is following behind him until he turns around to see he's taken cover behind a turned over table. He's got a wicked grin on his face as he returns fire. Gabriel scowls and lets out a loud groan. Jack's going to run out of ammo before he even makes a dent in their numbers.
Sometimes he can't believe he's married to this reckless idiot.
"Hey! What the-" Jack shouts as Gabriel yanks him up by the scruff of his jacket. He drags him around a corner and behind a display window of what looks to be an old bank. There's an ATM in the lobby that's broken down and stripped for parts, and posters advertising different financial services plastered all over the walls.
Gabriel puts a finger to his lips. "Stay quiet and don't move. The glass will block the infrared, just be careful not to touch it."
They watch and wait in petrified terror as the horde of OR-14s pass by their hiding spot. Their glowing red eyes scan the air for movement. Gabriel's afraid the sound of his own pounding heart will be enough to give them away. Jack slowly grabs his hand, and holds him tight enough for Gabriel to feel the cool press of his wedding ring on his skin. He returns the gesture with a light squeeze and his pulse slows down just a little.
After a few moments that pass by like years the OR-14s pass them by without discovering their location. Gabriel listens closely, not daring to move until he can no longer hear their footsteps clacking down the marble floor.
Jack lets out a relieved breath. "Shit, that was close."
Gabriel scowls. "I am going to strangle Torbjörn the next time we see him. His supposedly accurate intel almost got us killed. And you-" He lets go of Jack's hand to point accusingly at him. "The fuck were you thinking trying to shoot down all those tin-cans single handedly?"
Jack bites his lip and scratches the back of his neck. "I- I wasn't thinking, really. Good thing I've got you to save my sorry ass." He smiles and claps him on the shoulder affectionately. "What's the plan now, boss?"
"Get the hell out of here and run til we get back to the ship. From there we'll call on reinforcements and get this place taken care of."
Once they're sure the coast is clear they make a run for it. As they scurry down the corridor they keep passing by advertisements for that same bank they took cover in, like it was the only store in this entire mall. Somehow, even in the heat of all this chaos, Gabriel's reminded of something domestic he'd been meaning to talk to his husband about.
"Hey, how much money do you have?" He asks.
"Huh?" Jack asks, turning to stare at him with a dumbfounded expression.
"How much money do you have? Like, in your bank account?"
"I dunno, a couple hundred dollars maybe?"
"How many couple hundred dollars?"
"I don't know? What the fuck does it matter?" Jack hisses at him as they fly down the narrow staircase that leads to the exit.
"Well I've been thinking, since we're married now we need to combine our bank accounts. And I saw this –"
"Duck!" Jack shouts, and shoves him away before he runs headfirst into a low hanging iron beam.
"Woah, thanks." He says, and once he's regained their footing he continues. "I saw this ad for SunPacific Bank that said if you open a savings account with a $1000 deposit they'll throw in a free laser coffeemaker."
"Really? I've always wanted one of those things. I'm so sick of the shitty stuff they brew up at HQ."
"I've got about seven hundred fifty bucks saved up. Think you can cover the rest?" Gabriel asks.
"Probably, yeah."
They reach the exit at the bottom of the stairwell. Gabriel kicks down the door with a flourish and bright sunlight streams in. He smiles as he looks off into the distance. "I'll race you back to the ship. Last one back has to file the post-mission paperwork?"
Jack smirks at him. "You're on, Babe."
2. Residence: 1764 Grasshopper Lane, Grand Junction, CO 80501. Petitioner asks to sell house and split profit evenly between parties.
Instead of disbanding after the war, Overwatch set out with a new mission statement to become a major global peacekeeping force. The organization Gabriel poured his heart and soul into to build from the ground up has a new chance at making a difference in the world, and his heart is overflowing with pride.
Major renovations are already underway to refurbish the Swiss HQ, and the construction of smaller bases, Watchpoints they're calling them, have sprouted up all over the globe. Watchpoint: Tasmania, Gibraltar, and Okinawa are nearly complete, and today marks the beginning of construction on Watchpoint: Grand Mesa, the very first of hopefully many US Watchpoints.
Jack, Gabriel, and a few other Overwatch officials have all gathered on site for the groundbreaking ceremony. They stand on stage behind the newly appointed director, a tall, imposing man by the name of Petras, as he delivers an address to the crowd of journalists and civilians. Gabriel tries to pay attention, but finds himself drifting off after only a few minutes. His eyelids feel heavy, and if he weren't standing he's certain he would fall asleep.
Petras' speech is met with a mild applause from the audience. He turns around to motion at Jack and Gabriel and they join him at the podium to pose for a few photos. Director Petras throws his arms around both of them and beams at the cameras. Jack wears his usual charming grin while Gabriel stretches his mouth wide and hopes he doesn't look like someone's holding a rotten onion under his nose. His friends love to tease him because he always looks like a surly, hardass who doesn't know how to have fun in photos, which is pretty much in stark contrast to his actual personality.
The director opens up a sturdy, black case next to him to reveal a golden shovel. He hands it to Jack, who in turn hands it to him, and together the two of them press it into the earth.
After the ceremony they have a few hours to kill before their next flight leaves, so they wander through the streets of downtown Grand Junction, discreetly holding hands as they peer into shop windows. Their strolling eventually leads them to an old-fashioned ice cream parlor. The scent of freshly made waffle cones comes wafting through the open door, and they're reminded they haven't eaten anything since their light lunch before the ceremony. They each order a sundae piled high with chocolate syrup and whipped cream, and take a seat at a wrought iron table on the patio outside.
"Y'know, this town is kind of cute." Jack says, holding his plastic spoon idly in his mouth and staring off at the mountains in the distance. "Wish we could stick around a little longer before we leave for- wait, where are we headed for again?"
"DC for a Congressional hearing, and the unveiling of the new war memorial in the National Mall." Gabriel says as he stirs his melting chocolate ice cream. "Then Bloomington for your Mom's family reunion thing, then New York to meet with the UN and catch the Mets/Cardinals game if we can spare the time, then it's back to business at HQ."
Jack whistles. "And we're supposed to cram all that into three days? I thought with the Crisis over things would slow down, not speed up."
"I know right? I was hoping we could finally settle down." Gabriel looks down at his hands and fidgets with his spoon. "Y'know, buy a house, maybe start thinking about kids?"
"And drive them around to soccer practice and violin lessons in our minivan?" Jack laughs. "I don't think the domestic lifestyle suits us, Gabe."
"Yeah, right." He laughs half-heartedly and frowns into his lap. Maybe he doesn't yearn for something so stereotypical, but he doesn't want to devote his entire future to nothing but solving the world's problems either. He wants to have both. A family and a career. And it seems he was wrong about Jack being on the same page.
"I do agree with you on one thing though." Jack says with a mouthful of ice cream. He swallows. "We need to get a place of our own. I'm sick of hotel hopping and using my parent's house as a civilian address. Question is, where in this big old country should we settle down?"
"How about Indiana?" Gabriel teases.
Jack guffaws. "Fuck no."
"Why not? We could get a little farmhouse right next to your parents. You know they'd love that."
"No, no, we are absolutely not doing that." Jack says in between bouts of joyful laughter. "What about LA? I'd love to have a movie star for a next door neighbor."
Gabriel scoffs. "You say that like we're not already kind of celebrities."
"Well we'd also be closer to your Sister and Brother-in-law."
"Ha! Not if we're living in Beverly Hills by the movie stars we aren't." Gabriel eats a spoonful of ice cream and looks out at the snowcapped mountains that dominate the skyline. "Why not live here in Grand Junction? You just said yourself it seems like a cute town."
"I mean yeah but - are you sure you want to live so close to where we work?"
"Hey, it means less of a commute. Which will come in handy once Petras makes you Strike Commander." Gabriel says. He smiles and reaches across the table to nudge his hand affectionately.
Jack doesn't register his touch. He just stares at him as though he spoken a language he can't understand. "Me? Strike Commander? You're kidding, right?"
"No, of course not." Gabriel looks at him with knit eyebrows. Jack has to know, or at least suspect. Gabriel can see it plain as day. The way Petras and the other suits have been so warm and friendly with him. How they're always asking for his opinion and input during the peace negotiations, and ignoring him as though he's not in the room.
"I- well- what about you?" Jack asks.
"What about me?"
"You were commander during the Omnic Crisis. You're pretty much the whole reason the war is over. You're so much more qualified than me and-"
Gabriel cuts him off. "They aren't going to ask me, Jack."
"What? Sure they are. They'd be crazy not to."
Gabriel shakes his head. "I think I've pissed off too many important people to even be considered at this point. Besides, I'm not the type of person they're looking for."
"What do you mean by that?" Jack asks.
Gabriel looks down, fiddles with his spoon, and doesn't respond. During the war Overwatch could act bolder, be more experimental with their tactics, all without garnering much criticism. Now everyone's eyes are on them as they try to piece the world back together from the Crisis that tore it apart. The suits in charge want their Strike Commander to be outwardly optimistic and approachable. Someone who will smile for the cameras and play nice with the diplomats. Someone the world will trust without having to crack through their tough outer shell first.
Gabriel doesn't have Jack's natural charm and charisma. He's shy and guarded around strangers, and he's barely fumbled through every public address he's ever had to give. As much as he wants to be that affable guy everyone immediately falls in love with, he can't be. And the crushing truth of it all makes his bones ache.
"I mean, they want to switch things up a bit. Y'know, make a fresh start and all."
"I guess that makes sense, kinda, but that's still not fair to you. After all the blood, sweat, and tears you put into Overwatch, you deserve the top spot. Plus, I mean, what are people going to think if I, a white guy, takes a job that was supposed to go to a Latino man?"
Gabriel frowns down into his hands, because of course that thought had occurred to him too.
Jack slams his hands down on the table, rattling both their empty sundaes dishes. "You know what, if they offer it to me, I'll just turn them down. I'll stare Petras square in the eye and say 'Thank you sir, but I'm not interested.'"
Gabriel sighs and shakes his head. "Jack, don't be an idiot. You don't need to turn it down to defend my honor, or whatever. When Petras asks you, say yes. I'll be fine. It's not like they're kicking me out of Overwatch, they're just going to give me a different job. And I know you'll make a fantastic Strike Commander."
Jack stares at him with a sheepish grin. There's a boyish look in his eyes and a dollop of chocolate syrup on his nose.
"You really think so?"
"Yeah, I do."
He tries not to sound bitter.
3. Roger, 10 year old Old English Sheepdog mix. Petitioner asks for sole ownership.
Gabriel knows that extremist groups like Talon don't throw around empty threats. When they extort you for money or intel you either give them what they want, or you negotiate. Ignoring their demands completely is how situations like this happen.
The scene of the explosion is complete chaos. Ecopoint: Kodiak Island is almost entirely in ruins. Gabriel winces at all the dust and smoke floating in the air. Overwatch Agents and first responders dash around like mad helping the injured and recovering what they can from the file cabinets and computers that haven't been destroyed.
Gabriel shuffles around awkwardly in the blue and gold uniform. It's one of Jack's spares. Even though they're the same size it still feels like skin that doesn't fit him right. This is probably the first times since the Crisis he's been asked to step out of the shadows to publically assist Overwatch. He can't parade around in his Blackwatch uniform. It's especially important to hold up Overwatch's wholesome image when they're in crisis mode.
"Excuse me! Sir excuse me!" He hears a man's voice call from behind him. Gabriel turns around, thinking it's a victim in need of assistance, but instead he has a microphone shoved in his face. His pulse quickens and his whole body tenses up as he stares at the half dozen cameras now pointed directly at his face.
"Do you know what was behind the explosion? Was it accidental or was it caused by outside forces?"
He gives the reporters a stern look and repeats the stock phrase he was given if anyone hounded him for questions. "Strike Commander Morrison will be making an official statement this evening. I have no further comment at this time."
"But-" Before the reporter can finish his question Gabriel swats the microphone away from his face, and returns back to his job.
After nearly an hour of assisting with the rescue effort, with the sun hanging low in the sky, Gabriel comes across Jack standing alone on the edge of all the destruction. His face is blank and emotionless, and the stress lines and crow's feet around his eyes are more pronounced than ever. He's not helping the rescue efforts, just watching everything unfold in a dazed, stupor.
It was Jack's decision to call Talon's bluff. He didn't give in to their demands and decided to simply keep a closer eye on things, thinking if Talon tried anything he'd know. As evidenced by the rubble surrounding them, it didn't go in their favor.
Gabriel warned him repeatedly that this was the wrong course of action. He pleaded with him to let him try talking to Talon. But Jack always frowned and said that his hands were tied. If he had just let go of his pride and let him do his job, maybe this tragedy could have been prevented.
Gabriel runs through versions of something comforting to say in his head. 'Everything's going to be okay.' It probably isn't going to be. 'It's not your fault.' No, it is. 'You did the best you could'. Maybe, but if he was in charge he could have handled it a whole lot better.
"Things could have been worse." Gabriel says as sincerely as he can.
"How?" Jack replies with a hollow, coldness in his voice. He doesn't look at him.
Gabriel pauses a moment. He tries to think of a response, but comes up dry. "Come on, there's press all over the place, you don't want them to catch you not helping right?" He says in lieu of an answer.
Jack follows him back into the destruction and together they scour the remains for any sign of life. As they go through what looks to be an old test chamber Gabriel thinks he hears a faint whimper coming from beneath a pile of rubble. He squats down to take a look and lets out a small gasp at what he finds. Beneath the ashes is a tiny puppy that looks to only be a few weeks old.
He claws through the rest of the rubble to see if its mother is around, but he doesn't find any sign of her. The puppy squirms and whines, and looks desperately cold. With gentle, untrembling hands Gabriel picks up the puppy from the wreckage. It's white and black fur is matted, but it looks up at him with a dopey grin and big, black eyes.
"Jack!" He calls. "Come here!"
Jack turns around and looks at him. He points at the puppy in his arms and tilts his head in confusion. "Where did you find-"
Before he can finish his sentence, Gabriel thrusts the puppy toward Jack. He takes the dog and cradles it close to his chest. A soft smile spreads across his face. "Well hey there little guy." Jack coos.
Jack doesn't take his eyes off the puppy as they head over to the makeshift first aid station. There Jack finds a towel and swaddles the puppy in warmth. Gabriel watches him for a few minutes as he bounces the dog in his arms and whispers gentle, loving words into its ear.
"Jack, we should probably get back to the rescue effort." Gabriel says. "Let's see if there's any more survivors."
"No. I want to stay here with him." He pauses a moment. He finally takes his eyes away from the dog and looks up at him. "And after all of this is through I think I want to adopt him."
Gabriel purses his lips. He'd meant for this to be a way to cheer him up. As much as he pities the poor, orphaned puppy, they aren't qualified to raise it. "Jack we can't-"
"Gabe, please." There's a pleading look in his eyes, and Gabriel hesitates. He decides that with everything that happened today, plus all their arguments they've had over the past few months, he can't deny Jack the one thing that's made him smile in a very long time.
"We'll talk about it later okay?" He says.
Jack nods, and Gabriel leaves them both behind to continue on with the rescue effort.
4. Black four door sedan. Petitioner asks to give sole ownership to Respondent.
Jack and Gabriel bought their first car together after the war. A solar-powered hatchback with a sunroof and leather seats. Old Reliable, Gabriel had grown fond of calling it. Even when everything else was falling apart, their holopads, their dishwasher their marriage, they could still depend on Old Reliable.
At least they could until about two weeks ago.
When Gabriel returns home from the Swiss HQ he finds the garage empty and a note from Jack on their kitchen countertop reading 'Gabe: The car broke down. Please buy a new one. Blue, preferably. - Jack PS: Stop smoking in the house. Or at least clean out your ashtray so I can't catch you doing it.'
Gabriel groans loudly and calls a cab to drive him back into town. Before he leaves he lights up a cigarette and scrawls out a note to Jack in response saying: 'You couldn't have told me this in person?'
Gabriel wishes buying a car was as easy and quick as ordering a burger at In-N-Out. He'd blissfully forgotten how arduous and convoluted the whole process is. He can't believe he has to spend his entire day haggling with car salespeople because his idiot husband broke their car and couldn't be bothered to replace it.
When he walks into the dealership he knows exactly what kind of car he wants (A Mercedes E600, the same model Blackwatch uses), that he wants to buy and not lease, and that he wants it in black (because it looks a helluva lot better than blue and it screams 'fuck you' to Jack). The sales people ignore his directness, and he's forced to waste his time looking at the other models, hear sales pitches about all their great features, and take them out for a test drive.
When it finally comes time to sign the papers and purchase the car it takes another year to get through all the pricing options and apply for the right financing. He has to explain at least three times that no, he doesn't have an old car to trade in because it's probably rusting in a junkyard somewhere.
"Congrats Mr. Reyes. Your financing has been approved. Now all you have to do is sign." Hannah, the sales woman taking care of him, says with a grin. With her baby face and big saucer eyes, she barely looks old enough to be out of high school. It's enough to make him feel ancient.
Hannah slides over the paperwork for him to read. She's added colorful markers in all the places he has to initial and sign. As Gabriel looks over the fine print he doesn't see Jack's name anywhere, and it dawns on him that's probably because he failed to mention Jack at all.
He hisses under his breath. "Ah shit. I forgot to ask you to add my husband's name to the title."
"Oh no Mr. Reyes, it's my fault for not offering first. It's just- I didn't realize - usually couples shop together for-" A blush creeps across her face and she stops talking. She turns back to her holopad. "I'll uh…draft up some new papers for you. What's your husband's name?"
"John Morrison."
Her rapid-fire typing ceases and she stares at him with an awestruck expression. "He's not the John Morrison, is he?" She asks. "I've heard rumors that he lives around here somewhere."
Gabriel grimaces and clenches his fists into tight balls. Of course it's Jack that's got her all starry eyed. He wonders if she even knows who he is. Has his name been erased from history completely?
He frowns at her. "No kid, it's just a coincidence."
