Dr. Emmeline Kiplinger was formerly the head bioresearcher at EcoPoint: Amazon Rainforest, formerly known in some circles as 'The Demon Doctor' for her controversial and borderline unethical experiments on the native wildlife, and formerly number six on Reaper's hit list. Now she lies cold, pale, and soulless on the floor of her hideout in the Andes Mountains.
Reaper looms over her body. Her mouth hangs open, the ghost of her last scream is still plastered on her face, and her glassy, blue eyes look up at him in horror. A quiet feeling of distaste forms in his stomach. Even in death looking at this woman makes his blood boil. After all the vile things she did in the name of science, she deserves a fate worse than this.
When he can't stand to look at her any longer he morphs into a cloud of thick, black smoke and slithers out through a tiny crack in the bedroom window. He doesn't return to his corporeal form until he's floated all the way up the mountainside. The peak overlooks a set of high-speed railroad tracks, and he can hear a train whistle off in the distance. He estimates his getaway will arrive in a few short minutes.
Reaper listens for Sombra's footsteps, her feet light and nimble as they barely kiss the ground. All he can hear is the whistling wind and the train in the distance. He glances behind him, though he knows it's a wasted effort to look for her. The rising sun provides only enough light to see a few feet in front of him, and her thermoptic camouflage makes her damn near impossible to spot.
Reaper scowls at his accomplice's absence. The next train won't arrive until the afternoon. If she doesn't show up soon she's going to be stuck out here alone because he sure as hell isn't waiting for her.
When Sombra found out his plan to kill Dr. Kiplinger (Because she always finds out his plans. He's swept his hideout for bugs at least a dozen times but she still somehow always knows.) she invited herself along for the trip, and laughed in his face when he told her absolutely not. He wanted to do this alone. His quest for revenge is solitary and personal. He doesn't need anyone tagging along and slowing him down. Bringing Sombra would only add unnecessary complications to what was supposed to be a quick, clean, easy job.
"Boo." Sombra whispers into his ear as she materializes behind him without warning. He doesn't flinch. Antics like this are why it's a pain to work with her. She claims to be in her late twenties, it would be nice if she would grow up and act like it.
"You're late." He snarls out, making his voice sound low and gravelly.
"Lo siento." She sticks out her bottom lip and traces a fake tear down her cheek. "It took a little bit longer than I expected to find those journals."
Sombra is without a doubt the most skilled hacker he's ever met, but even she can't hack her way into the Demon Doctor's research journals. Ten volumes, all handwritten, never uploaded to a computer. What she needs the information for he doesn't know, or care, but it's critical enough in value to make her leave her hacking den to retrieve it.
"But you got them, right?"
She rolls her eyes. "Of course I did. I'm not an amateur. Plus I picked up a little something extra especially for you, but that can wait 'til later. Like you always say, 'Stick to the mission'." She drops her voice to do a poor imitation of him.
Reaper crosses his arms and shifts his weight to his other leg. He doesn't press Sombra further on this extra bit of information. What else is there about him that she hasn't already dug up? She could write his biography.
She knows he's Gabriel Reyes, the forgotten Omnic war hero and former leader of Blackwatch. She knows he's the whistleblower who leaked Blackwatch's existence to the world and he's partially responsible for turning the Swiss Headquarters into a pile of rubble. She acts smug about knowing all this information, like she's holding some big secret over his head that could damage his reputation if it got out. He goes along with it, though in reality he couldn't be more apathetic. His identity and his sob story are a more open secret than she realizes.
It's actually the small, inconsequential things she knows about him that make him wary and uncomfortable. Little details about his life he's never told anyone, or hasn't let himself think of in years. Like how she knows his sister is fond of strawberries, or his nephew has a son he named Gabriel, or the only person who he let call him Gabe was his ex-husband.
From below the train's headlights glow bright blue as it approaches them at lightning speed. Sombra hurls her translocator onto the train's roof (he has to admit, she's got a hell of an arm) and he teleports after her in a cloud of purple smoke. When he reemerges a strong wind blows across the train rooftop, causing his coattail to billow out behind him. He shivers at the sudden rush of cool air.
Sombra wastes no time getting to work. She plops down cross-legged next to him and reaches into her black satchel to retrieve her holopad, a small cylindrical device reminiscent of a flashlight, and one of the journals. She holds the device over one of the pages. It projects a bright purple beam which scans the page and uploads it to her holopad.
"So how long until someone notices Dr. Kiplinger kicked the bucket?" Sombra asks him as she works.
"At least a week. Probably longer. Didn't look like she got visitors very often." He says. He tries to peek over her shoulder the read one of the journal pages. His attempt doesn't go unnoticed and she readjusts her position so he can see. "You took care of the security cameras?"
"Of course. The only proof we were ever there is the dead body on the floor and the missing journals. Oh, and this." She reaches into her bag and retrieves a clear bottle of expensive looking liquor. She takes a quick sip before offering it up to him. "Want some, or can you only drink soul juice these days? Y'know I've always wondered what's underneath that mask of yours."
"Sombra!" He seethes.
"What? She's dead. It's not like she's gonna be using it anymore." She takes another, longer swig and smacks her lips together. "C'mon, lighten up a little bit Widowmaker."
Widowmaker. She says it so naturally he almost doesn't catch it, but when he does he puts his hand on his hips and stares at her in bewilderment.
"Excuse me?"
She smirks at him. "You heard me, Widowmaker."
"How much of that have you had?" He points at the bottle and sniffs the air around her for alcohol.
"Widowmaker please, I don't get drunk." He's not sure if she means 'My cybernetic enhancements prevent me from getting intoxicated' or 'I can hold my liquor'. He doesn't ask for clarification.
Sombra clicks off her holopad and scanning device, stands up, and stares at him with a confident, all-too satisfied smirk. "Tell me Gabe, how did Amélie get the name Widowmaker?"
"Shouldn't you know this already?"
She frowns at him. "Humor me."
He crosses his arms over his chest. "Because she was brainwashed by Talon to kill her husband Gérard while he slept."
Sombra takes a step closer to him and presses one of her long fingernails onto the center of his chest. "And who else tried to kill their husband?"
Gabriel misses the days when he could use his whole face to express his emotions, because no matter how long and drawn out his sigh is, it can't properly communicate his intense frustration.
"Ex-husband."
Sombra raises an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
"We were divorced."
"Again, you sure about that?"
He scoffs. "Did your information leave out all that damn paperwork?"
"Nah I saw the papers - cute dog by the way- it's just that you two only filed for divorce. You never bothered to finalize it." She lets out a cold, high-pitched snicker. "Geez, you wanted to kill that man so bad you couldn't wait to go to your final hearing first? I mean, it was only a week away."
Reaper clenches his bloodstained fists and doesn't say anything in response. Sombra doesn't get it. She can't get it. She wasn't there. The documents she's hacked her way into don't give her full context and understanding of their situation. He never forgot about their divorce, he stopped caring about it. It was so trivial and insignificant in comparison to bringing Overwatch to its knees. A squeaky floorboard in a house on fire. It didn't fucking matter anymore.
Jack was worried about what would happen if one of them died? Well, that happened a lot sooner than either of them anticipated.
"We were divorced." He says again, this time with a finite stiffness in his words.
"Right, you keep telling yourself that. That'll make it legally binding." Sombra rolls her eyes and looks down at her nails. "I guess you're right though. You're not really a Widowmaker. More like a wannabe Widowmaker. I mean, you didn't even kill the guy after all."
Sombra gives him an expectant stare, waiting for his shocked and bewildered reaction. But Gabriel taps his metallic claws against his forearms and cackles to himself. It's cute how she thinks she's dropping some kind of bombshell on him.
"Well it's about damn time he popped up on your radar. It took him long enough to crawl out of whatever hole he's been hiding in."
Sombra pouts at him. "So you already know, huh?"
"I've known for years. Ever since I found out that grave in Arlington is empty."
It was just like Overwatch to give their golden boy a grandiose memorial, even if they didn't have a body to bury. But the empty grave was their only lie. Overwatch did believe him gone. That his body had been too damaged, too burned-up, and there was nothing left of him to find.
Gabriel's gut knew they were wrong.
He and Jack were super soldiers. They were genetically designed to withstand perilous conditions like a bomb detonating on the floor above them. Together they had seen far worse. If he had taken the brunt of the explosion and survived (more or less) Jack had to be out there somewhere too.
There were holes in his theory. It was uncharacteristic of Jack to stay hidden so long. He's never been good at laying low or being patient. But Gabriel never doubted that he was right. Not even once.
Maybe the explosion changed Jack's outlook on the world, the same way it did his.
"But how? The news only broke an hour ago." Sombra stammers. She stares at him with knit brows and a flummoxed expression. He chuckles, enjoying this sensation of having the jump on the woman who supposedly knows everything.
"What news?"
Sombra smirks at him and taps her chin. She's regaining some of her footing. "Hmmm… should I spoil it for you now, or should I wait and let you see it for yourself? It's going to be all over the morning headlines." She flips her holopad back on and swipes past headline after headline, showing them off faster than he can take them in. Words fly by him in languages he can't understand. The rapid-fire movement makes him dizzy and ill-at-ease.
"Enough games Sombra, just show me already."
"Okay fine, you're no fun." She pouts. She swipes once more and lands on a newspaper titled La Voz de Dorado.
Arma Experimenta Robada del Antiguo Complejo de Overwatch.
Below the headline is a photograph taken from a shoddy security camera. It's grainy and obscure, but clear enough for him to make out a man in the foreground. He stands with has back to the camera, his head turned to the side and cast in a silhouette. He's wearing a mask to hide his face. All efforts to conceal his identity don't fool Gabriel. He knows. The same way he knows his own name, he knows the man in the photo is Jack Morrison.
Gabriel lets out a sharp breath and balls his fists up tight. There's a sudden rush of blood to his head, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest. He's been waiting for this day for years, but he wasn't prepared for this emotional overflow. Gabriel reaches out a clawed finger to touch the photograph, but stops short when he sees Sombra's soft, almost knowing expression.
Reaper shoves his feelings away, and continues reading the article. The stolen weapon was an experimental pulse rifle with a remarkable similarity to the one Jack used to use. The masked intruder also took a duffel bag with the name 'Morrison' printed on it. He resists the urge to smack himself on the forehead. As he reads that the items were stolen from Watchpoint: Grand Mesa a flash of inspiration strikes him. He snatches Sombra's keyboard away from her and starts typing.
"Hey!" She snarls at him with a surprising amount of ferocity. "Don't touch that!"
"I need to check something." He says as he sifts through files on her holopad. "Can you access American police reports on this thing?"
"Sure, yeah." She grabs the keyboard back from him. "What are you looking for?"
"Check the Grand Junction, Colorado PD to see if there was a break in at an unoccupied civilian residence last night."
"Hang on." Her fingers fly over the keyboard as she pulls up the police reports, and her eyes glaze over the words on the screen as she searches. "Uh… yeah, looks like there was something. A burglar alarm went off around midnight at 176- hey wait a sec- that's your old address, isn't it?"
He doesn't bother responding. He's sure she already knows the answer.
"You thinking of going after him?" She asks.
He shakes his head. "I'm half a world away. By the time I get there he'll be long gone."
"Then we'll just have to figure out where he's headed next." Sombra grins at him and cracks her knuckles. "With my hacking skills and your decades worth of personal knowledge, we'll find him before the sun finishes rising."
"I'm not interested in your help."
Sombra frowns at him. "Fine, I'll find him on my own then. But y'know it'd be a lot easier for both of us if we pool our knowledge together."
"What's in it for you?" He asks, eyeing her with suspicion.
"I have my reasons." He continues staring at her, and she rolls her eyes. "Oh come on Gabe, you can't honestly think you're the only one interested in tracking down the Jack Morrison?"
Sombra doesn't wait for his response. She closes out of the police report and projects a globe into the air. She gives him an expectant look. "Tell me Gabe, where do you think he's going to go next?"
Reaper sighs. If he's going to be stuck on a train roof for hours in the middle of the Andes Mountains with only Sombra for company, he may as well do something useful. He squats down on the rooftop next to her and circles over the southwestern United States.
"He's probably going to head south to take on the Deadlock gang. Then he'll keep going for Los Muertos."
She snorts. "Him? Singlehandedly take down Los Muertos? Oh I'd pay good money to see him try." She taps on Dorado and a few cities in the southwestern United States, causing tiny, blue flags to sprout up.
"Anywhere else?" She asks.
"It's unlikely, but he might go east to Switz City."
"You mean Switzerland?"
He shakes his head. "No, I mean Switz City, Indiana."
Recognition flashes across her face. "Oh yeah, that's where his Dad and dog live."
He scoffs. "Isaac might still be alive, but Roger's got to be long dead by now."
"Actually, he's doing just fine." She types a chain of commands into her keyboard and pulls up a document on her holopad. "Here's a vet record from his checkup a few months ago. He's blind and overweight, but otherwise everything looks good."
Reaper feels a pang of annoyance that Sombra once again went sifting through details of his old life, but it's overshadowed by a wave of relief and euphoria. A warmth surges through him because Roger is alive. He's safe and unharmed, and with an owner who cares about him. The dog didn't die, which means his and Jack's story can't be a complete tragedy.
Jack.
Gabriel's thoughts drift to his ex-husband, husband, once again. He's struck with the uncomfortable flood of emotions from seeing his photograph. All of the feelings he's kept locked away, hasn't let himself feel since he became this nightmarish thing, come barreling out faster than he can control or put a stop to. It's almost too much for him to bear.
He wonders if this surge of emotions is going to keep reoccurring whenever he thinks of Jack now that his hunch has been confirmed. That it's not a question of if they meet again, but when. He wonders if people can think about their old lover and not feel anything. He wonders, like he's wondered hundreds of times before, if it's possible to hate and love someone at the same time.
But mostly, he wonders what Jack is going to do when he sees him for the first time in half a decade. When he sees what he's become.
He'll find out soon enough.
I originally planned to give this more of a downer ending, but thought- that's really depressing- even for an angst-potato like me, so I opted for something more open-ended. Do these two sad grandpas realize they're still in love each other and make up? Don't they? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ that's not this what this story is about.
To everyone who left comments and favorites: Thank you so much! Words can't express how much I appreciate your kindness! Sorry for breaking your hearts!
If you ever want to say hello or chat about Overwatch/r76 with me I tumblr as perichat