Chapter Text
Rolling curls of smoke slipped under the door into a pitch black room. The sounds of the exaggerated breaths distorted by a bone-white mask were only audible between the equally exaggerated clicking of acrylics on a keyboard. They knew they were both in that room even though no one said anything nor met each other’s eyes. They greeted each other in their own unique way.
“Almost done , viejo ,” Was all the woman said.
And before Reaper knew it, she pushed against the table and came rolling next to the looming man.
“Hm,” Was all his response. They were alone, but some irrational thoughts bubbled into his mind, telling him that if he said anything, it would all go to shit.
Sombra leaned back into her chair, practically testing the strength of the material. She turned on her last monitor.
The local news flickered on. A familiar distaste coated Reaper’s mouth. How many times did he want to slam his fist on a table or wall because of similar channels? How many times did he seethe when he saw the pretty boy representation of the American military with golden locks, ode-worthy blue eyes, and a Colgate ad smile strain his lips to try to forget?
But today would be a chance to change it all. It was the night to remove that distaste and be able to gaze upon the TV without gritting his teeth.
The anchor placed a delicate hand to her ear. Her professional eyes shifted over as she focused on the man in her earpiece. It reminded Reaper of late night television and pointless interviews where the only rope tethering them to sanity was an Overwatch-issued earpiece.
She nodded firmly. She put down her papers and stared at the camera.
There it was.
The backdrop flickered before morphing into live helicopter footage.
He saw the spots of bright colors amidst the night sky. His red eyes followed as several high-profile political figures, Korpal of the Vishkar Corporation, several members of powerful gangs, important names of large companies, and and most importantly, Ogundimu, were dragged into highly reinforced vehicles.
“No Moira, Widowmaker, or Sigma,” He muttered.
Sombra responded with a faint hum. Unlike Moira, who would flit between research organizations and needed extra people on her case to pin her down, and Widowmaker, who needed the right treatment, time, and stability, Sigma was a difficult spot.
“I have them tracked,” She stated simply.
Sombra had her opinions. He had heard Sombra’s disapproval whenever Ogundimu agreed to whatever hairballed shit Moira was trying to put him through and the warmth she had for him. Knowing Sombra, she was clearly going after him. At the same time, she would then be chasing after Moira.
Whatever it was, he would answer her call. She had helped him enough. Both Amélie and Siebren deserved a chance to return to a new normal.
“Sombra—” Reaper looked around him. The young woman was gone. Her set-up was gone too with the only thing left was the TV still running the headline, “ Talon dismantled .”
“Not fully,” Gabriel muttered.
He turned off the TV and stood there, in the darkness.
He knew where he had to go but he just had to breathe it in and let it settle between his ribs. It was almost done. All the assassinations, held in screams as needles punctured through his “skin,” and years of pretending he hated the man who gave him hope.
Gabriel shed his uniform and tucked into a well-worn black hoodie. As he paced the streets of Spain, he could see the headline still strolling and the footage flashing. Like a celebration.
He couldn’t be caught now. Not after everything. But he just had to look at the footage again. A bit of hope swelled in his chest. It was something he assumed was long dead, just like himself and Jack.
Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison were dead. Reaper and Soldier: 76 rose in their places to forget what humanity was and just be pawns in a long game.
But it was over for those two, too. When Talon started crumbling, so did the name of Reaper and the job of Soldier: 76 was coming to an end.
Now they were just two nameless men.
“Happy anniversary,” He said into the air.
[———]
Breakfast at Watchpoint: Gibraltar was always kind of rowdy since there were so many of them. And some of them like Tracer, Lúcio, and D.Va were quite the chatterboxes to each other.
Soldier: 76 was there because he would have been verbally castrated by Ana Amari herself and Reinhardt would sneak sad little looks in his direction that reminded him he was growing soft. It was fine most of the time he could get by concentrating on the decently good cooking skills of some members. He took a sip of miso.
Cassidy usually was part of the cheery bunch with his charismatic Southern twang sliding smoothly between more fast-paced voices. But he was joining 76 in the silent brooding corner this morning. 76 knew Cassidy wanted to stare and narrow his eyes from under his hat at the older man in a revisit of the “what the hell are you hiding now?” look. It was a look he got back in the golden age of Overwatch but was put to peace as 76 stayed more isolated from everyone.
Soldier: 76, on the other hand, was too busy thanking how his visor was able to hide how his eyes were drifting around the room.
D.Va, Lúcio, and Bridgette were still chatting away, interjected with some of Tracer’s cheery laughter in between texts with her girlfriend. Reinhardt and Ana were huddled on the sofa, sipping tea like usual but unusually quiet. Both Shimada brothers were wordlessly communicating as one scrambled eggs and the other cut up scallions.
The table was more empty than usual though. They were missing some usually present at the breakfast table, like Dr. Zhou who joined Lifeweaver in the lab, Pharah who was in the training room, and Dr. Ziegler and Winston were likely dealing with the new situation.
76 stood up, placing his bowl in the sink to deal with later. This was more important. As he walked passed, he could see Cassidy’s expression—ah, there it was…
He walked towards the other end of the compound where jail cells were located. After slipping by Dr. Ziegler and Winston with a decently awkward nod from both of them, he entered the larger room.
The cell that Soldier: 76 was soon standing in front of was specially designed for Reaper. From reinforced air vents to double layer doors that required multiple people to unlock, it considered everything. The thick, bulletproof, one-way mirror showed a cross-armed man in a black hoodie, sweatpants, and that recognizable bone-white mask. It was quite hilarious to see him decked out in the most retired army-officer grandpa outfit—except for the owl-like mask.
Jack’s lips curled into a small smile that none of the cameras could catch.
Gabriel huffed and rearranged his position on the chair with his arms still crossed. The man before him looked less like the terrorist everyone saw him as and like he was waiting for Jack to come out of the hospital again after being told not to, yet still, jumping in front of a bullet.
Jack pressed a gloved hand to the mirror.
Soon, there could be a possibility that he could be interlocking his fingers with the man in front of him. In the past, under the tight scrutiny of the press and the people at SEP, sometimes the only thing they could get away with was intertwined fingers, chaste kisses, and gazing at the other from a distance.
“Jack?” The kind Swiss accent of Dr. Ziegler snapped him out of his daydream.
“Right,” Jack said.
He exited the prison wing and headed for the meeting room on the other side of the base.
When he got there, he realized it was unsettling standing at the front end of the table again. Winston led most of their meetings with people taking whatever chair was free. Soldier: 76 preferred leaning against the walls with the late-comers as sitting at the table reminded him too much of meetings with UN officials. But today, Winston was… kind enough to allow him the front stage.
He watched as some of the agents trickled in late, some due to injuries because of their last mission, some due to apprehension due to the newest member of their jail cells. In the end, the multi-colored collage of heroes of various backgrounds surrounded the central table and were looking right at Soldier: 76.
He took a deep breath.
“Let’s start with the fact we managed to arrest a good portion, if not majority, of the major pillars of Talon’s central force last night,” 76 started.
His body wanted him to stand up and straight, letting his well-trained limbs stand in a way to appeal to a group of politicians. But these were not politicians, they did not come with shark teeth and hungry gazes that would feed an equally hungry press.
“I’m… grateful that you listened to my advice yesterday,” He admitted in his gruff voice. It reminded him of SEP. “It was risky seeing as you didn’t know the source, but we’re here and Talon is being dismantled.”
He glanced around the room.
“You may have also noticed that several major on-field fighters are missing. Moira, Widowmaker, and Sigma have all disappeared, Sombra hasn’t been seen on any radar for a whole month. But Reaper…” He trailed off.
“He’s here,” Cassidy nearly spat out. His lips were curled around a cigar. He didn’t light it, but it seemed he needed something in the mouth to distract from the urge to grit his teeth.
“He’s here,” Soldier confirmed. “And I would like to tell you why.”
76 brushed his trigger finger against the table in front of him.
“Gabriel and I knew Overwatch was compromised far before anyone did,” He confessed. Then, Soldier went into an explanation of Gabriel’s deep search of Blackwatch and how he realized Moira was selling information. After that, they found one of the accountants of Overwatch turned their back on the organization. And soon, they had found several prominent officers and new recruits were double-crossing them. By the time himself and Gabriel had properly even formed a plan, it was like a termite infestation that had dug through all the wood columns holding the house up.
“So our plan was to let the house crumble,” Soldier continued. “We let go of several still loyal people, kept the traitors to let them continue thinking we weren’t onto them.”
The soft clicks of metal of the younger Shimada’s suit against the table rang across the room. “That’s why you dismantled Blackwatch,” he said in graceful tones, at odds with the topic of destruction of his former family.
Soldier nodded and watched Cassidy duck under his hat.
“I trust Gabriel’s judgment.”
A wary sigh followed from a familiar person in a familiar spot. “Gabriel planned his own destruction,” Ana remarked. 76 tried not to wonder what she saw that day when it was just her and unmasked Gabriel.
“The UN and media already didn’t like him. He volunteered to play the role of a loose cannon. By that time, he was already aware of his condition and used it to his advantage.”
From the corner of his eye, he could see Dr. Ziegler flinch, which he pretended not to see as her wound was already cracked wide open seeing Gabriel in that jail cell. It was not necessary for him to point it out.
Then, after the room fizzled into contemplative silence, Reinhardt finally asked, “then he is truly back?” in gentle German tones, as if the concept was completely foreign to him.
“Yes,” Soldier: 76 confirmed with a spark of hope gripping the space under his sternum. “As long as you’ll have him.”
As Soldier: 76 looked at the people in the room before him, he wished for a second he had prayed. Even though he had left religion with the man once known as John Morrison in Bloomington, Indiana.
No one said anything else, instead, they locked eyes with each other, all except with the man whose eyes could not be seen. Each one of them had different questions and levels of skepticism.
The silence made the words of the next person ring out even louder. “Why should we? He helped dismantle Talon but it doesn’t excuse the fact he’s killed enough innocents to be considered equal to those in Talon.” Pharah spoke for the first time since the end of the last mission.
It was always been a question of “do the ends justify the means?” And Gabriel always skirted the line towards “yes” more-so than himself. It made him more suited for Blackwatch and, in the end, sneaking into Talon.
“He ain’t no idiot,” Cassidy said in a tone much lower than anything Soldier had heard.
“All of the people killed were cross-referenced with those who directly betrayed Overwatch, helped someone do so, or were involved in operations Overwatch was already targeting,” Soldier responded.
“I can only give you half the story,” Soldier then confessed. “I planned most of the operation, but it was Gabriel that executed them.” A poor choice in words his brain winced.
A wave of murmurs brushed over the room. In the midst of the low voices, Genji put a hand on Cassidy’s shoulder.
Soldier: 76 looked at Cole Cassidy then at Genji Shimada. They were living proof that Gabriel was fundamentally a man who cared about others. Jack Morrison was the image of peace, but Gabriel Reyes was about results. Gabriel Reyes was who people should look to as a symbol of true progress in the ways that mattered.
Cassidy slid his boots from the table—Soldier had a moment of weakness and didn’t comment on it—and stood up, the spurs jangling. It was a quiet request, much more quiet than the turmoil of emotions Soldier could see in Cassidy’s eyes when the hat couldn’t fully cover his face.
Then, half of the table stood up. Most of those who were originally in Overwatch and Blackwatch gathered together to head towards the cell. Some spots like Dr. Zhou’s were replaced by the elder Shimada who had a steady hand on both his brother and Cassidy’s shoulders.
When they made it to the cell, Ana and Cassidy entered the door while the others peered through the glass. Soldier: 76 hung behind. He wished he could join Gabriel in the cell, just to be there for him. But he sat down on the bench and waited.
Hours ticked by as the members of new Overwatch watched as Ana and Cassidy questioned the former Blackwatch commander. 76 could also hear the snick of a pencil as Dr. Ziegler took notes. Once in a while, Genji Shimada would press the microphone’s button and make a comment to Cassidy like one would do in a police interrogation room.
He eventually nodded off. He hadn’t slept a wink after the mission that took down Talon and he was suffering because of it. Now, he slid into a cold and uncomfortable sleep with no weapon and his biker jacket’s zipper biting into his scarred skin.
[———]
“Funny how it was Cole’s turn on the other side, hm?” A voice whispered to him. A slightly cold hand touched his cheek. Soldier: 76 grumbled in disapproval as the red-tinted world came into life.
There, in front of him, was… Gabriel .
Said man had a small smile curling on one side of his face. Gabriel brushed the back of his hand against Jack’s beard.
“Rise and shine, honey,” Gabriel said sarcastically, even though the pet name was still tinted with affection. “I cannot believe you could fall asleep under these conditions.”
“Fuck you,” Jack grumbled, voice ridden with sleep. He brushed his gloved hand against Gabriel’s. Looking around, he eventually did see how dreary the room around them was.
“I’ve had worse at SEP,” Jack said.
Gabriel’s smile grew, showing just a bit of his unnaturally sharp teeth. He looked up and to the side towards other people entering the cell.
As Overwatch members had started joining both Gabriel and Jack in the room, Gabriel moved away from their… little scene.
At the same time, Jack jolted up and cleared his throat. He noted the pillows and blanket that slipped off him.
“Update,” Jack tried not to bark.
“It’s been twelve hours,” Winston replied. “Noting your information, we have decided to allow him out for a determined amount of time, not including treatment time he has agreed to with Mercy.”
Jack wiped a hand over his forehead which got a smirk from Gabriel.
“Was this a whole team vote?” He asked.
“Indeed, we had a long talk with both Agent Cassidy and Captain Amari leading the discussion.” The gorilla pushed his glasses up. “Then we had a meeting only consisting of former members of Overwatch and Blackwatch.”
Winston tapped on his tablet. “You had sent me a large file containing a great amount of information a few days ago that Athena finished scanning before the discussion.” He paused. “We cross-checked with Commander Reyes and determined both Commander Reyes’ information and what was sent to be of true nature.”
“Importantly,” Tracer piped up from behind the gorilla. “We trust you, Commander.” She nodded firmly like the true Air Force pilot she was.
“Not your commander anymore,” Jack grumbled.