Summary: Marshal Reyes has some explaining to do.
A/N: Firstly, this is not a sequel to the original Rift trilogy. It's not even an epilogue, really. It takes place directly after those events, but it's not so much a conclusion as a short peek into the aftermath, which is the main reason why I waited such a long time to write this. It's just, well... When you just know what happens next, it's tough not to get the words out.
The Rift:Endure
There are celebrations that mean something and celebrations that don't. Sometimes they feel empty and unwarranted. For Marshal Reyes, what makes the difference is how you get that victory. The lows you sank to make it happen, the people you sacrificed.
The monster you became.
As the revelry reaches its apex in the center of the Shatterdome, with tears streaming down the faces of the embracing, shouting, weeping staff around Reyes, consisting of those who can either finally go home to their families or put their memories to rest – there wasn't a man or woman left alive who hadn't lost someone - he thinks that every low-down dirty thing he did, every deal with the devil he made to make sure this happened, was worth it.
Then the Jaeger pilots returned, exhilarated even in their exhaustion, and the cheers reached a deafening volume as they were swarmed and thanked profusely by anyone within range. Riding on an adrenaline high, Fareeha and McCree didn't mind having their arms pumped until their joints began to protest, threatening to pop out of their sockets. Jack allowed maybe a dozen or so to approach before begging off with an audible edge. Deftly taking him by the arm, Ana joined him in navigating away from the worst of the crowd before Reyes had to intervene.
Zarya was similarly protective of her co-pilot, if much more vocal and visibly intimidating than a worn out Boy Scout from Indiana could ever dream of being. In any case, as obviously fatigued and distracted as they all were, relief and happiness shone through. This held true for all except Hanzo freakin' Shimada, who elbowed and pushed and shoved past his brand new fans to make a beeline for his position. The closer he got, the easier it became to make out features contorted with anger, and while Reyes had never drifted with the man before, he also wasn't an idiot. It was plain by the look of his face that the former yakuza wasn't looking for a congratulatory handshake.
It was bound to come to this, eventually. Secrets weren't meant to be kept. So Reyes doesn't flinch at the cold fury cresting off him, or wince at the green-accented Omnic trailing after him, its light frame bombarded by the flow and ebb of the crowd.
"Marshal Reyes," Hanzo Shimada manages once he's reached him, standing tall and regal with his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle at the corner of his cheek twitched, "we need to talk."
"But not out here," Reyes cut in, ushering him towards his office at the same time Amelie was made aware of Hanzo's absence. A worried frown curved her lips as she watched them leave, and felt the blank-faced Omnic hovering at her elbow stand a little straighter, but she resolved to wait, trusting Hanzo to inform her of his conversation with the Marshal, the cause for the seething rage she could know feel seeping through her partner's careful control for the first time, and most importantly, his reason for excluding her, once they could speak in private.
It felt strange to be standing in the Marshal's office once more, with its twin pools of crystal clear water, and the path that led between them to the warm hearth at the end. The stone path, the wooden gate with its golden sigil, the fireplace, and gently rippling pools of what may have been excess coolant. It was an aesthetic which lent itself to balance and serenity, and one Hanzo had even found calming on the rare occasions when the Marshal had spoken to him in his office. Now, however, the murmuring ripples, the whispers of flame, they were all background noise to the roar reaching its crescendo beneath his skin.
Behind them, the door opened once more, allowing a single Omnic to slip in. It's entrance did not go unnoticed – on his metallic limbs, he made the same tinny sound as Hanzo walking in - as the archer glanced over his shoulder, his expression briefly contorting with pain. When he turned back to Reyes, his voice came out strained, "Why didn't you tell me?"
And it would have been so easy for Reyes to pretend he didn't know exactly what he was getting at, except he was tired of the games and subterfuge. The war was over. The Kaiju were trapped behind the Breach.
Really, it was about time his sins had caught up with him.
"You and La'croix are skilled," he began levelly, keeping his expression devoid of any particular emotion. Scowling at the lack of reaction, Hanzo folded his arms over his broad chest. He was still wearing his drive suit. There hadn't been time to change. "That's undeniable. But you had no anchor, no reason to fight for us besides your personal motivations," and here, his tone turned bitterly caustic, causing Hanzo to immediately stiffen as they flew at him like knives, "so you'll have to forgive us if trusting you on your word alone was a little difficult to swallow."
"My honor," Hanzo grit out, curling his fingers, "is not at question here. Do you or do you not admit to conducting unethical experiments on Omnics and humans?
"I was ready to do whatever it took to make sure as many of my pilots came back from their engagements in one piece, as much as humanly and inhumanly possible, and - believe it or not, Shimada - that included you and La'criox."
"That still does not explain why you did not tell me."
"Why didn't I tell you that I was working with a criminal organization to illegally recreate human thought processes and memories in Omnics? To build artificial pilots from the memories of dead people?" The Marshal scoffed. "Guess it must have slipped my mind."
"Reyes," Hanzo growled in warning, traces of cerulean engulfing, illuminating his dilated pupils. Behind him, Genji's lack of presence felt as though it were seared into the back of his skull. He'd never been so quiet in life. He'd been music and dancing and laughter, ruthless teasing and a mischievous glint in brown eyes, bright and darting. Never still. Never silent.
Now, only the scrape of metal on stone gave him away as he shifted.
"Look, to put it simply, it was on a strictly need-to-know basis, and you didn't need to-"
A closed fist slammed against the Marshal's jaw, the impact rippling through his cheek as it launched him off his feet, sending him sprawling. The only reason his jaw was still intact was because some subconscious part of the archer had balked at the thought of harming the man who had given his life meaning, his death purpose. Standing over the one who had promised him a chance of redemption, yet who had also twisted the memory of his brother by trapping his likeness in a shell, Hanzo trembled, "I thought you were better than this." He shook his head, trying to dislodge the ghostly echo of laughter he would never hear again.
"I trusted you."
Working his jaw back into place with an audible crack, Reyes scowled down at the floor. "Yeah, well…" He spat a glob of blood onto the tile. "That's your mistake."
The doors opened a second time, starting them both. Security guards streamed inside, "Marshal Reyes!" And surrounded Hanzo, their weapons drawn and aimed at his chest. Slowly, and with a bitter chuckle, Hanzo let his bruising knuckles fall to his side.
One of the guards looked to Reyes, who still seemed to be processing this latest development. "What are your orders, Marshal?" There was only one order to give, only one he could give. Too many had witnessed the aftermath of Hanzo striking him in his own office for this to be kept under wraps.
Reyes didn't think he could give Hanzo the apology he deserved, especially not now, but even if he could have managed it through a glance or a gesture, the archer had already checked out, as though he'd dismissed everyone in the room from his mind and they were simply outstaying their welcome.
With no small amount of pride, Reyes pushed himself to his feet, before casually dusting off his suit. "Put him in the barracks."
A growl like radio feedback burst forth from the Omnic when the guards moved to surround the archer to grab him by the arms despite his lack of resistance. His eyes narrowed into slits, Hanzo ripped free, "Do not touch me." With his head held high, he strode towards the exit. "I know the way." Then with a smirk tossed over his shoulder, added, "You may follow if you wish."
Reyes watched as they filed out, secretly hoping that the Omnic would follow.
It didn't.
Instead, it turned its expressionless faceplate on him, the judgment nearly palpable.
Frowning, the Marshal allowed his gaze to slide from the flat space where eyes would roughly be on a human. "After striking the leader of humanity's last stand, your brother's lucky to still have a head on his shoulders."
He should have kept his mouth shut.
Instead of calming, the Omnic's posture tended towards feral as it viciously spat incomprehensible vitriol, turning sharply on its heel to leave and slamming the steel door behind it.
Amelie did not like being surrounded by people or loud noises on her best days. Like her partner, she much preferred quiet and solitude, but was prepared to make an exception for the moment. Just when the flood of congratulations and enthused gratitude seemed to taper down to a manageable stream, however, a deep and booming baritone excuse-me'd and coming-through'd to the front.
Staring up at the gorilla making his way to them through the gathered Shatterdome employees in the politest way possible, Amelie felt the beginnings of a smile bite into her cheeks. Then came the second wave, as Mei was nearly barreled over by Lena, a stunned Fareeha and McCree was swept up by Emily, and Angela Ziegler, the girl who discovered the secret to opening the Rift, swayed forward before collapsing into the startled arms of Ana and Jack. Carrying nearly her full weight between the two of them, the pilots shot identical expressions of confusion and concern at Winston, silently demanding an explanation, which he reluctantly provided.
When he was done, Jack gave a short nod before hefting her up into his arms, "Come on, kiddo. Off to the infirmary." He smirked at Ana as the crowd parted to let them through. "I think we could all use a nap."
A sleepy, happy giggle slipped past Angela's lips, followed by a murmured, barely intelligible, "I helped everyone save the world." Her head lolled to look at them, but stilled when Ana placed a caressing hand over her brow.
"Rest now, habibti. You did well." And she relaxed, finally falling into a doze as they carried her away, and the crowd closed behind them.
Amelie watched the proceedings with a twinge of envy, her thoughts drifting to the other half of her own pair, until the mute Omnic at her side slipped its skeletal joints between her fingers, and with a gentle tug, moved to lead her away from the noise and the fuss. It felt oddly familiar to be pulled away like this – the slight strain in her calves and the pressure on her fingertips flit through her thoughts, hovering at the edge of a memory, so she followed, curious as to where the Omnic would take her, and more than a little grateful for the distraction.
They raced up the stairs, the exertion enough to get her blood flowing so that a hint of a flush filled her cheeks by the time they were leaning over the fourth floor balcony, and she gripped the railing with both hands, tilting her head back to enjoy the rush of warmth from the short sprint, and with stars glittering in her eyes, she turned to thank the Omnic, noticing distantly that even the way it seemed to stare felt… not wholly original.
And there was something else, emotions fluttered in the drift, feelings that she'd attributed to her own excitement, yet even as she began to calm, they didn't abate. Frowning down at the revelry below, she pondered whether or not they could belong to Hanzo, although it didn't seem likely. It wasn't until they'd reached the base that she'd been in the state of mind to notice, but there was something he wasn't telling her, a secret he refused to share. When he'd seen Marshal Reyes, though, his control had slipped, just enough for Amelie to be reasonably sure this wash of positive emotion filling the Drift wasn't coming from her partner.
Could it be the other pilots? A kind of run-off effect from the sheer amount being experienced and shared?
Somehow, it felt closer than that, intimate, and directly solely at her, solely for her.
But Omnics weren't supposed to bring anything to the drift.
She stared at the automaton once more, searching its virtually featureless faceplate for any trace of identifiable emotion, though she soon came to realize that she was searching in the wrong place. The Omnic's bare and rudimentary design allowed for a surprisingly expressive range of motion, for its shoulder joints rose defensively, its torso arching away and twisting as though it couldn't quite stand the flintiness of her gaze. In what was probably a mimicry of human gestures, it clapped a hand against the palm of its neck, ducking its head and averting its visual receptors, as though looking away could somehow make the whole ordeal of suffering her suspicion more bearable.
There was a man she'd known once who'd displayed similar mannerisms when he was feeling particularly run down and raw – a confident, intelligent, kind, stupid man – but didn't want her to see. Proud and guarded, yet so obviously hurting that wrapping him in her arms had felt like the most natural act in the world.
But this Omnic was not that man.
To even entertain the thought of anything else was an escapist fantasy and an insult to his memory.
Upset with herself for the momentary slip, she shoved off of the railing, ignoring the way the movement drew its eye-notches back to her, the way the Omnic effortlessly tracked her movement, even shifting its stance as though it intended to follow. For an instant, an urge swelled within her to lash out at the Omnic, to push its chest, to drag her nails across its pristine metal and leave her mark on its expressionless flat face.
A hint of that must have shown in her features, because the Omnic stilled, suddenly going rigid, like prey waiting for a predator to pass. She imagined it as a rabbit, its heart hammering in its chest, threatening to burst.
As quickly as it came, however, the urge for violence past, leaving her feeling drained and emptied out. Shaking her head with a rueful huff, she drifted back to the railing, taking her place once more by the Omnic's side. Leaning against the bar, she rested her head on folded elbows, her gaze trained on the ongoing ruckus below. "I'm sorry," she said at last. "That was no way to treat one's savior."
A glimmer of mirth brought a cruel curl to her pale lips, "Did I frighten you?"
Cool metal touched her skin, its temperature close to her own. Disbelieving, Amelie looked down to see copper joints laid over the slender fingers gripping her upper arm. When it saw that it had her undivided attention, the Omnic slowly shook its head.
Without looking too deeply into what caused it, Amelie forced down a sudden thickness in her throat. She was watching her fellow pilots below when several shouts dragged her from the fog of her own thoughts. A commotion followed as streaks of neon green darted through impossibly small gaps. It pulled up short by the elevator, hesitating long enough for Amelie to recognize it as the Omnic that had both nearly killed and saved her partner. As she watched, it took several steps backwards, then sprinted forward and launched itself at the second floor. Gasps rang out as it flailed through the air - Lena found Emily and they placed themselves protectively in front of the youngest pilots - until finally it collided with the safety bars with a jarring metallic clang. It hung there for a moment, its long limbs entangled with the railing, then propelled itself to the third floor with a single vertical leap.
Dreading what this strange behavior might mean, Amelie doubled over the bar to find the Omnic staring up from the level below, its V-shaped visor aimed directly at her, somehow speaking volumes though the automaton itself was silent. Her fingers curling reflexively over the metal barrier, she shot a brief, considering glance at her own Omnic, in which time the second had scaled the rest of the way to perch gracefully in front of her. A deep humming rumbled from its carapace, and a steady stream of garbled static, filled with a high whine, issued from its defunct vocal synthesizers.
Her back straight and hands clenched, Amelie faced its intensity head-on, "Where is Hanzo?" It's neck swiveled to regard her Omnic expectantly. A melodious whistle flowed from the machine beside her, one that echoed and rebounded between them, becoming more disjointed and sharp with each repetition. The copper and brass Omnic went rigid at the same time a sudden and foreign sense of alarm flooded the connection between her and Hanzo. It was too dull and too close to be him, however. Muffled somehow despite the proximity, as though trapped beneath a veil.
Her curiosity peaked, Amelie distantly heard herself ask the pair, "Who are you?"
Each of them turned sharply to face her, as though they'd forgotten her presence. The perched Omnic's shoulders jumped in a jerky shrug, and ignoring a tone of protest from its companion, it leaped to the ground, landing soundlessly, though its stiff posture belied the storm brewing beneath its carefully controlled demeanor.
Aspects of its movements, its bearing, triggered half-forgotten memories of a boy with shocking green hair, a lonely boy who learned to harness his loneliness, sadness, and fear into weapons when the world proved unkind.
His – It's arm lashed out to grab her, causing her to sneer at the unwanted touch, but though the cold metal wrapped around her bicep was unwelcome, the urgency behind the gesture kept her from pulling away when it crouched to trace a rough shape on the floor. Regretfully, Amelie shook her head to convey her lack of understanding, and the Omnic repeated the action with growing impatience.
The second Omnic approached, laying its palm on her shoulder, and she saw in her mind's eye… a young bird trapped in a cage, singing sweetly to an empty room.
A sparrow.
"That's… not possible," Amelie whispered, her voice breaking. "I've seen you die."
In the beginning of their alliance, it had been the most vivid of Hanzo's memories. Everything that had occurred before, everything that occurred after, had paled in comparison to the brilliant crimson staining his hands, the anguished cries echoing through his thoughts.
They had found solace in their shared fate as the villains of a hero's tragedy, yet this Omnic believed itself to be the fallen Sparrow. It was too convenient to be without purpose. Distantly, Amelie registered that smoldering fury born within her at the thought that such a creature had been commissioned so that her partner could be controlled, but was too distracted by another, more unsettling realization to truly give it presidence.
At her side, the copper Omnic was watching her closely.
"Then you… " Her voice came out strained, sounding so little like her that the Omnic tilted its head with obvious concern. "Who are you?"
And all at once, she felt… love. A consuming, unconditional love that could only ever belong to one man. It made her veins cold, sent her reeling. Without thinking, she scrambled backwards on her palms, conscious of the spike of dismay penetrating the tainted ghost drift.
Curling in on herself, she clapped her hands over her ears, staring sightlessly at the floor, uttering denials on repeat. And she feels... guilt, disbelief, fear, fear-
- fearalonealonealone
Frantically shaking his head, Gerard grabbed her hand. He pointed at his chest, at where his heart should have been.
I never blamed you. I never stopped loving you.
She could almost hear the words. "You say that because you don't know…" Amelie gasped, choking on the tears clogging her throat. "I'm not the Amelie you loved." Her head bowed, she reached out to touch the smooth surface of his faceplate. The chill beneath her fingertips was similar to her own. "She never would have hurt you."
The air shifted. The Omnic lunged. Amelie remained still, her eyes widening with shock when its jointed limbs twined around her neck, its body light – wrong – nothing like the man she remembered holding her under a bridge in Paris, kissing her lips sweetly at the altar. She'd always known, even back at their happiest, that she'd never be enough, not when there was a world for him to save. And still, she'd given him her heart, had promised him her heart. Him and his heroics, her and her dancing.
But now the threat was over, the Rift was closed. It was just the two of them again, and Gerard was stroking her hair, careful not to catch it in the parts of his segmented fingers. She wanted to rest her head against his chest, and sob until her tears washed away all the years she'd spent with nothing but his ghost to haunt her, as she stole love from others over and over just to feel alive.
Omnic or not, real or not, she was a tainted woman. She did not deserve his forgiveness, let alone his heart. That fury, buried under her grief and regret, licked at her insides, revitalizing itself, and she latched into it. "Who did this to you?" Even with her vision blurred, she noticed how Gerard shot a glance at Genji when he rose to his feet, somehow bristling with agitation as he conveyed with frantic gesticulations that they needed to leave.
Frowning, Amelie dragged an arm over her eyes to clear her vision while Gerard, with a low noise of frustration, warily disentangled himself from her, allowing her to stand, after which the Omnic- Genji spun on his heel to break into a sprint.
Her own emotions, tumultuous as they were, had blinded her to the terrifying truth staring her in the face, and now that she was no longer distracted by the addition of alien minds to their connection, it was obvious that something must have happened to drive Genji to such a panic, and Hanzo was nowhere to be seen.
Instinctively, she reached out to the Drift, feeling for his consciousness with her own, but her mind stretched to a void, hungry and terrible.
Forgoing the stairs or the elevator, she vaulted over the bar, dropping four levels to land in an unoccupied space on the floor in an elegant crouch. Without acknowledging her fellow pilots, she took off from the position like a racer at the starting line. It wasn't long before Genji leapt ahead of her, and with Gerard falling into step at her side, she wordlessly followed his lead.
The cell Hanzo found himself staring into was less than impressive. It was one of three in what appeared to be an unused office space, with a concrete floor and no cot, sink, or toilet to be found. It was also roughly half the size of a typical one-person holding area, as unlike a standard prison cell it was never meant to be used a permanent means of containment, but rather a pit stop until the proper authorities could be notified and the prisoner transferred. Since sitting on the ground held no appeal, Hanzo intended to stand for the duration of his incarceration. Feeling rather confident, he didn't foresee any issues ahead, until the guards gestured for him to unlatch his prosthetics. In part to buy himself time to think as cold sweat beaded on his neck, he inquired, "Did Marshal Reyes order this?"
After a moment's hesitation, one of the men replied, "It's proper protocol, sir. Any enhancements are to be considered potential weapons and removed." Overhead, the fluorescent light flickered, as a moth trapped within its bulb repeatedly beat its fragile body against the glass.
A dull ache from the rounded, scarred flesh directly below his knee warned of swelling from overexertion. Removing his aids would be painful when blood flowed free of all constrictions, but even so, Hanzo stepped into the nearest cell, lowered himself to the ground, no stranger to the sensation of shame eating away at his psyche as he pried his prosthesis off one at a time under watchful eyes of an unwelcome audience. By now, his limbs were practically fused to the metal, and he bit down on a wince, before wordlessly handing them over to the nearest guard. Soon, the cell was shut and locked, the guards filed out to return to their posts, and Hanzo was left alone in his cage to await whatever Fate held in store for him.
All at once, there was a distinct pop, followed by a sizzle, and the bulb blazed with a searing brilliance before its coils cooled and the dreary room lost its only source of light. From the ceiling, from the walls, Hanzo thought he could hear a steady, maddening drip, the kind of sound one might expect to hear when they were underground.
His breathing quickened, spiking with irrational fear. His chest tightened, needles pricking the insides of his lungs as a growing ache seized his bones.
Keeping his bearings in the light was a simple matter. He needed only look around to know where and who he was, to remind himself that he was no longer a prisoner of vile manipulation and hate, but without it… Without it, he could be anywhere.
Letting his head rest against the bars, with dangling strands of sea-soaked hair dripping down the sides of his face and bridge of his nose, Hanzo dug his nails into the armored plates of his drive suit, gritting his teeth against the debilitating sensation of a blade poking out from the wall of his heart.
Take a breath.
He's in Shimada castle, huddled in the dark, waiting for the elders to release him or for death to take him.
Take a breath.
He's in the Shatterdome, his head bowed with his regrets as the concrete pressed against his legs worked to cool the inflammation of his freshly exposed stubs.
Though it was much harder to maintain composure without a present audience, it certainly wasn't impossible, especially when his solitude was likely to come to an abrupt end at any moment. However, just as he was beginning to reclaim his bearings, an alien despair swept over him, shattered his defenses like a flood bursting through a dam, leaving the river to swell past its banks and obliterate the crops and homes in its path.
Overwhelmed by the force of confusionguiltragereliefhateloss, the archer doubled over, as the maelstrom of sensations joined and compounded his own.
It was then, with his grip of reality nearly wrenched from him that something on the wall shifted in his peripheral, drawing his attention to an inky black and humanoid mass as it coalesced into a form from his boyhood - a slender, compactly built man in an impeccably pressed suit, with black hair styled to a feathery appearance and texture, and dark eyes that looked down at him, judging. Condemning.
"Hello, young master."
Normally, he wouldn't speak. Memories often didn't. But this wasn't a memory.
Not quite.
As the former head of the Shimada clan's security division stepped forward to carry out his orders, his katana unsheathed and gleaming at his side, the floor opened up like a gaping maw beneath Hanzo to swallow him whole.
When the guards saw her, they shifted nervously, micro expressions of fear abundant on their faces. At any other time, seeing such behavior from her alleged allies might have filled Amelie with doubt – How long before she would cease to be Talon's tool in their eyes? - but for now it only filled her with a grim sense of satisfaction. Marching straight to the nearest guard standing in her way, she effortlessly invaded his personal space, growling, "Let me pass."
He visibly swallowed. "Marshal Reyes has ordered us to…"
Impatient, Amelie cut him off. "The Marshal ordered this?" In her peripheral, she could see Genji and Gerard moving closer, flanking the guards. "Did he order you to guard the cell? Did he state specifically that there weren't to be any visitors?"
"Well, no, but the standard procedure is to…"
Gripping the man by his suit jacket, Amelie yanked him down to stare directly into the glare of her poison yellow eyes, "You know who I am. You know what I can do." Keeping her voice low and composed, she continued, "Now ask yourselves this - is keeping the man who just saved your pathetic little lives in a cage worth dying for?"
They let her pass.
With the Omnics close behind, she burst into a rectangular-shaped room with three cells, one of which was occupied by a man with disheveled black hair slumped on the floor. If he heard or saw her entrance, he didn't react. Behind her, Genji's accent lights flared. The atmosphere became charged as a deceptively gentle breeze picked up in the stale and windowless barracks.
Dropping to her knees in front of the cell, Amelie reached through the bars to brush strands of Hanzo's tousled topknot from his eyes. They were open, empty. Staring without seeing.
Furious as she was, Amelie could barely manage to choke out, "Mon cher, what happened to you?"
Determined to find out, she reached once more for the ghost drift, only to be startled out of her focus by a deep, gravelly baritone, "Now isn't a good time to be inside that head, Amelie."
Turning to face him with a snarl, Amelie spat, "Reyes." He gazed down at her impassively, waiting. "How did this happen? How could you allow this to happen?"
"He struck me in front of my guards." A cranking sound drew his attention to the green-accented Omnic, who somehow managed to look murderous through his body language alone. The Marshal wisely looked away. "I didn't have a choice, La'croix."
Her head heavy with disappointment, Amelie countered, "We always have a choice. Isn't that what you told us?" A mirthless smile curled her bloodless lips, a remnant of the deadly seductress she used to be. "Or do you not believe your own words, Marshal?"
The Marshal didn't let her change in demeanor faze him. "Petras didn't trust you. Any of you. He threatened to have you and Shimada booted unless I found some kind of safeguard. Talon provided a solution."
Betrayal cut through Amelie, sharper than a scalpel's blade. With a low note of warning, she sneered, "You, the great Marshal Reyes, made a deal with Talon?"
"To save the human race from extinction." Though his words were said with conviction, the Marshall refused to look at her, to face her dripping condemnation and disgust.
Exhausted, Amelie rested her head against the bars, "You sold your soul."
Reyes scowled. "And if I hadn't, this program would have been shut down. The government hasn't provided us with funding in months. I did what I had to do to end this war, and if I sold my soul, then I won't deny it." He looked down at the pins for bravery and valor decorating his chest with disdain. "To be honest, I'd have sold it for less."
He wasn't aware of Amelie's fingers groping blindly for Hanzo's hand. When she found it, she latched onto it like a lifeline, closed her eyes, and dove into the ghost drift.
He's in a cage; chained like a feral beast by the very people he was raised to lead.
A katana falls in the dim, bluish light. It falls slowly, as though time works on dream logic, adjusting its speed on a whim. Excruciating pain shoots up from below Hanzo's knee before he ever sees the blade make contact. Screams fill the dungeon, high-pitched and animalistic. Curses and whispered words that are really just sounds, babbled and unintelligible.
Hanzo wonders if he deserves this.
He thinks he does.
Then the second strike lands, and the third-
"I'd like to see you try to run from the clan now, my lord."
-and the dream starts again.
Amelie came back to the sound of her own anguished sobs. Gerard had wrapped his arms around her at some point, and the touch helped ground her, separate her from the nightmare. Slowly, and with tears still streaming down her cheeks, she stood to find the Marshal pinned to the wall by a snarling Omnic. "Genji, let him go." After a moment's hesitation, the Omnic released him, allowing Reyes to cough and sputter as he ruefully massaged his neck. He glanced up at her warily. "Get him out of that cell now, Reyes," she told him with an icy calm, "or so help me the apocalypse will be nothing compared to the devastation I will bring."
They watched as the Marshal and savior of the human race retrieved the key so he could free one of the pilots that had helped him save it, each of them conveying a silent threat, but the cell door swung open without any tricks or subterfuge revealing itself, so Amelie ignored him, uncaring of the flash of sorrow in his eyes when she shoved past him to cradle Hanzo in her arms. He was shivering.
"Hey, it's okay," she whispered, pressing her lips against his hair. "Everything is okay. The war is over now. We're free." She glared up at Reyes, as though daring him to contradict her, but the Marshal was already on his way out. The Omnics ultimately let him pass, though Genji deliberately made it difficult. In the end, however, only Gerard watched him go.
Gradually, Hanzo's dark irises began to focus on her and the guiding green lights of the Omnic sitting beside her. Meanwhile, Gerard twined his fingers around hers, linking them through the contact. Though they were tired and changed from battle, and knew this hard-won peace would not last forever, they sat in the silence, separate, yet intrinsically connected by a bond that could never be severed, and slowly but surely, began to heal.
A/N: And next on my list is... A Beauty & the Beast au.
Oh. I've been looking forward to this.