Three years.

Gabriel Reyes sat back in his desk chair, unable to absorb the information Angela had told him. He'd known he was dying, that the culprit was a genetic issue for quite some time. But he hadn't realized just how little time he had. It was a combination of the damage the SEP serum had done to his genes and his genetic predisposition for dementia that was killing him, Angela said. The SEP serum, which had once boosted his muscle mass and strength to near-inhuman levels, had damaged his cells in such a way that his body couldn't keep up with the dying ones. In short, his body was literally rotting. He had three years before the damage devoured his sanity, and another six months, maybe, before it claimed his life.

She suggested putting him on indefinite medical leave and keeping him at the Overwatch base while she did her best to help him, but warned him that she could only do so much for him. She didn't know how long he had until he became dangerous to himself; further tests over a longer period of time were needed. He'd have to resign his active post at Overwatch; arming a potentially unstable soldier with a gun was a recipe for disaster. I didn't sign up for being a paper-pusher, he'd snapped, cutting the line.

He shouldn't have gotten angry with her.

But he couldn't help it. It was so frustrating, knowing that his companions would be fighting Talon and he couldn't help them. It wasn't just that; his degenerating condition made him a straight-up liability, an easy sentimental target for Talon to disrupt the team's strength. His failing mind would make it ever-easier for Talon to catch him off guard. His capture and/or death would upset his team's mental state; they'd blame each other or themselves for not being able to protect him. Even if Overwatch kept him safe, he would still be much more of a hindrance than a help, as he would need valuable attention that was much better spent on wounded, capable soldiers.

He pulled up his medical records and rubbed at his forehead. Going to Moira was a gamble, a hope that he'd throw a lucky seven in the savage dice-game of life. But he was almost out of time and definitely out of options.

He shook his head. No, he'd need more time to figure this out before he took that leap.

But,murmured a small voice in the back of his head, she has to know eventually. You did hire her for her knowledge, didn't you?

He closed his records and rubbed his forehead. He could at least tell her the basics of what was going on…

A knock at the door nearly made her drop her pen. Moira hadn't planned for people to come knocking so soon. She debated not answering it; getting the lab set up was more important. But not answering would stir animosity before she'd even finished inventory, and she couldn't afford to have her employers hate her right now. She put down her pen, rearranged her expression into something that hopefully wasn't annoyed at being interrupted, and palmed the door open.

Reyes stood in the doorway, his face drawn, the circles under his eyes more pronounced than she'd seen on the dropship.

"Commander. I didn't expect anyone so soon."

His gaze flickered around the boxes and open cabinets. "I know you're busy, but I need to talk to you."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Is this about our agreement?"

He shifted, not meeting her eyes. "Not quite."

"Mr. Reyes, I'm a very busy woman, and I don't have time to play twenty questions with you. I advise you be forthcoming if you want to talk with me right now."

"I need some counseling."

She scoffed. "I'm afraid I don't do that, Commander. You'll have to look elsewhere." She stepped back, but Reyes stuck his hand on the door, stopping it from closing.

"You know I wouldn't be here if I had anywhere else to go."

"And what makes this particular issue so pressing that I have to know now?"

"I'm on limited time. But I thought you should know…" he took a deep breath, then let it out, sagging against the door like a deflating balloon animal. "I have some genetic issues I need help with. Thought you might be able to help me."

Ah.There it was.The real reason Reyes had picked her specifically. If he was coming to her instead of Dr. Ziegler, he must put a lot of faith in her abilities. That, or he was desperate. She gave him a cursory once-over, beginning to ponder his mystery condition. He looked fine, if a bit tired, but she knew that physical appearance alone wasn't enough to determine such things. "I'm still unpacking, unfortunately, which severely limits my ability to do major work. But I will let you know when my lab is set up if you decide you still want to consult me."

"Thank you, Doctor. By the way, I'll need your measurements."

She smirked. "Looking to do a little science of your own, Commander?"

Reyes let out an inelegant snort. "Hardly. We need to get you fitted for a proper uniform and body armor. I don't think any of Blackwatch's current gear with fit you. At least not well." He cleared his throat and straightened. "I'd tell you about dress code until then, but-" his gaze flicked up and down her, "just keep wearing this. Or similar. At least until we get your uniform in."

"Of course." She turned away and picked up her list.

"Oh, and I expect you to start hitting the gym. You're Blackwatch now, so I'm going to have to train you. Tomorrow, 1600 hours. Gym's on the second level, third door on your right. Don't be late."

A sigh rose in her throat, stifled by instinct. Waste of time."Good day, Commander." She stepped back into her lab space as the door closed, rolling her eyes, and returned to her inventory.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Hi folks; I'm making major updates to this to help it flow/hone the characterizations a great deal. I feel like this fic in particular really needed it. So don't be too upset if chapters go missing; this is intentional, and they will return soon.

This chapter's a bit shorter; sorry. But there will be more to follow soon