7: Revelations

Tracer almost choked on her words, clutching a hand to her chest.

It couldn't be! Winston had only built the accelerator for her, and yet...

"You're... You're..." she stuttered, still barely able to process what she had just seen.

"...The same, but different," He replied, softly, covering over the microscale accelerator on his wrist "or did you not hear me say that back in Gib?"

Tracer's head spun. There were more questions in her head by the second, and no reasonable explanation for any.

"How come you weren't wearing it there?"

A slight grimace appeared on his face.

"It's why my condition is called an instability, and not a full dissociation. Think of it as a compound fracture compared to a clean break. I wear this on Ops. As a precaution."

She started to come to terms with the information overload that she had just been subjected to.

"Wait a second, how come you don't just blink about like I do then? Surely you can?" It was something that was bugging her. If she was able to do it and he had the same ability then he must be able as well.

"Afraid not. Not as easily as you can anyway. I don't know how painful it is for you, but for me it is agonising to do. Think, 'several million volts and every major injury you've ever suffered, twice over' agonising."

"But... but you can heal that against that. I saw the wounds. That can't have been from the clotting agent you stuffed into it."

He hummed slightly, as though to say "Fair point".

"Yeah, I suppose so. Problem is that it only works to a point. If I take too much of a beating, then it's back to being a plain mortal for me. So the damage attempting to blink would do could kill me if I pushed it too far."

She gasped. "You can die? I thought that an ability like that would have some insurance against death..."

Another hum. "By 'kill', I mean it'll put me in a coma. And there's no way to tell how long I stay under. Sometimes it's a week, sometimes months... if I screw up badly enough it could see me go under for years, or even longer."

"I think you have it a little worse than me love. Mine was only-"

"The slipstream. I know. I was an Intelligence Operative before this, remember?" He interrupted, "Now, are we going to spend the night exchanging stories, or do you want some kip? "

"Yeah, sleep sounds good right now. Wait, are you not going to sleep or is that another mutation?"

He chuckled slightly. "Yes and no. Yes, because one such mutation is slightly better night vision, and no, because it's another bit of training. That and the fact I don't fancy waking up with the sharp and toothy end of a jaguar in my face."

He crawled up to a position by the ledge and took up a watch position.

"Oh, and one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"My name isn't James. It's Ryan. They decided to change my identity after my accident as many people still thought it was my fault. Enjoy your nap anyway."

This is surreal, she thought, as she curled up on the improvised mattress and closed her eyes, I thought nobody could ever understand what I've been through. And yet this guy has been through it all and more. I wonder what other secrets he has.