Epilogue: I want to do it
Feb. 6th, 2013 11:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moonshadows"Sombra."
My name, growled into my ear by a dog in the middle of the night, is not an unusual occurrence. Papi finds it easiest to talk about difficult things when no one else is awake, much less around to overhear. "Si?" I answer, half-asleep still, wondering if something about our little Father's Day celebration is bothering him.
"I want to do it." There's a pause, like he's bracing himself, and I can feel the tension in his body. "I want to become Gabriel Reyes again."
Okay, that...I'm awake. I am very awake and not completely certain I just heard that. "Papi??"
He looks up at me, because I've just sat up in alarm. "I want to be the father you deserve," he says in a quiet but determined voice. Then, in what is absolutely a tone of dignified pleading, "Help me."
I...he wants...but he's...for me...?
Yeah. I'm crying.
He licks at my face as I hug his neck, and it's a few minutes before I can get coherent words out. "You already the best father," I say into his fur.
"But not the best father I can be," he counters, tail wagging a little. "You deserve a father you can take out in public without a leash."
That makes me laugh. "I think Tia Ana would say even as Gabriel Reyes, you need a leash."
That makes him laugh. "It wouldn't stop me, but good luck trying anyway. So...you'll do it?"
"Choice was always yours, Papi," I say quietly. "Angela and I have the program all ready to go in case this day ever came."
"What aren't you telling me, hija?"
"If you do this, there is no going back. No dog, no wisping, nothing. Just Gabriel Reyes."
"No sleeping in your bed," he says dryly. "No pulling shotguns out of thin air. No sneaking under locked doors. No hiding in the can, no chewing on shark spine or beef femurs, no being petted or brushed." He lets that sink in for a minute, thinking about all the unique benefits he's gotten used to since everything went to hell. "Being able to walk around in public. Hot showers. Broken-in jeans. Sprawling on the couch. Not having half the people I know dance around trying to figure out what to call me. Facial expressions. Opposable thumbs on hands that can feel texture. Seeing the inside of a restaurant." He gives it two beats before saying softly, "The look on your face when you see my face and it sinks in that Gabriel Reyes is actually your father."
I'm crying again, but before I can hug him he's in the hoodie configuration hugging me.
"I want to do this, Alé," he murmurs into my hair. "Today was the last straw. You deserve better than a dog. How do we make this happen?"
For a minute or two I just lean against his chest and think. When my breathing is calm again, I say, "I think we should do a dry run first. Spend a week locked in the prototype."
I can feel him flinch. "How is that a dry run? Because it has a face?"
"I been tweaking it, Papi. Took away the clothes. I put you in it, you gonna be naked," I tease.
"You took away my hoodie?" he teases back in mock-outrage. "And my jeans? I worked so hard to pick them out!"
"And now you get to wear them for real. And the hoodie, and the boots, and socks, and underwear, and shirts."
"No underwear," he says.
That....I press my hands over my eyes and engage the buffer, like when I've gone digging up someone's dirty secrets and they're dirtier than I thought they would be. "Okay, no underwear. Pajamas?"
"Boxers."
"Fine. You won't be able to eat, but the mouth opens and you can pour LRF down your throat to be absorbed by a prototype stomach. You won't starve."
Reaper hugs me tighter in silent apology. "Thank you, Alé."
"So tomorrow we can order you a wardrobe, and start your dry run as soon as it arrives, and if that goes well..." My voice trembles. "If that goes well, I'll call Angela in for the last big upgrade your swarm will ever get."
"Will I still have a swarm?"
I nod against his chest. "We talked about it. The swarm will replace your white blood cells and the microbial colony that would normally populate your digestive tract, but other than that, you'll be flesh and blood."
The mask presses gently against my hair. "You're falling asleep, hija. Lay down. We'll talk in the morning."
When I lay back down, a doberman snuggles up to me and the world fades out.
=
Papi's already up when I drag myself out of sleep, lapping LRF out of his dish. I sit next to him on the floor, petting gently.
"I thought you'd be relishing real food before your week of denial," I half-tease.
He snorts. "Too impatient to get started."
While he finishes, I change out of my pajamas. He wisps out of the room and is already sitting on the couch in the hoodie configuration, waiting, when I get out to the living room. Jesse stumbles out of his room while I'm getting settled, gives us a sleepily-confused look, and goes into the kitchen - only to come right back out.
"There's no coffee," he complains. "What gives?"
"Make it yourself," Reaper growls. "You're an adult."
Adrienne comes out of her room, hugs our trash cowboy brother, and says softly, "I will make it."
"Aww, thanks. You're a peach, quiet-sis." He hugs her back, and she goes into the kitchen. Once she's out of sight, he comes over and leans down before saying in a low voice, "What gives, you two?"
"Preparing for a dry run," Papi says shortly. "You may have a real father in eight to ten days."
Jesse sits abruptly on the closest chair. "Dad, you mean it? You're going to..."
"We'll see," he snaps.
"But you want to."
Reaper sighs. "Yes."
That gets him hugged. "Whatever you need from me, Dad, you've got it. Just ask. Or demand. 'M good either way."
"What I need is clothes," he says dryly, but he's hugging back. "Hija, let's start with jeans."
=
There's a lot of arguing, of course. I win the first argument and get orders for a basic outfit placed before the cutoff for same-day delivery: black hoodie, black tee, and the first pair of jeans that would fit. There's a bit of discussion, but socks get sorted out very quickly, and Papi apparently has a favorite brand and style of boots, so that's the calm before the storm.
Then I let him loose on the jeans. He has a dozen pairs in the cart before he realizes I'm going to let him get ALL of them, and then he takes half of them back out with mutters about how I'm taking the fun out of it by just letting him have what he wants.
To make him feel better, we do boxers next and I throw a fit over every outrageous design he manages to find. Naturally, that makes him argue for even more outrageous designs. I'm not sure who actually won when he winds up with the black silk with giant flame-colored lips, but I do know he's going to damn well wear them just to prove a point. He winds up with some normal ones, but also a pair that proclaims I'M TOO SEXY FOR MY BODY and one with an arrow pointing up labeled THE MAN and an arrow pointing at the seam labeled THE LEGEND. He absolutely insists on the one with stars on one side, stripes on the other, and an eagle right in the middle, but I suspect it's going to be a gag gift to either Jesse or Uncle Jack.
Shirts and things to go over shirts wind up being less argument and more fashion debate, and while he's got some tee-shirts with sarcastic phrases on them and some button-up denim to throw over them, he's also got some nice button-up shirts and we go back for pants that match and something more dressy to put on his feet. Just when I think we're done, he declares that he needs sweats and running shoes.
"Anything else?" I ask, fingers hovering over screens.
He thinks about it for a minute. "Cold-weather gear can wait until it's cold. Swimwear?"
"You wanna go to the beach with a static face?"
"I won't have the static face for long," he counters.
"Then you'll have time to pick things out during the dry run," I say firmly, closing screens.
Reaper hugs me. "Thank you for putting up with me," he murmurs into my hair.
I lean into the hug. "I know this is hard on you, Papi."
Before I can say anything else, there's a quiet-sis and a cowboy brother handing us gaming pads.
"Enough of that," Jesse says, settling onto the other couch with Adrienne. "We've got an hour before lunch, a pizza scheduled to be delivered, and then another hour before your first packages get here, if I overheard right...?"
"It is time for relaxing," quiet-sis says firmly. "No more worries. Only demons."
Reaper looks around at the rest of us all smiling at him. "I have the best kids," he says. "Alright. Anyone have plans? No? All monk run, yes on stash, hardcore. Bounties. Let's kick some demon ass."
=
While the other two devour pizza, Reaper paces in the hoodie configuration. He doesn't want to go to the dog - apparently, that's "cheating" - but physical activity without actual muscles isn't satisfying.
"It feels like I'm numb all over, but inside," he growls.
"I added temperature feedback," I offer. "I know that won't help with being a beanbag doll, but it will help with feeling less like a beanbag doll."
"How-" he starts to ask, then shakes his head. "Let me guess. It's what you have." He stops and sighs. "Being a dog has spoiled me."
"You can do it, Papi. You literally held yourself together for how long before I came around?"
"Too damn long," he says, hugging me. "Hija...it's been longer for you."
That's all he says, but that's all he has to say because it's been the elephant in the room since he first learned my name, and he can feel me trembling. Everything I sacrificed my organic body to do, I have done, and more. There's nothing left to hold me back from shedding my omnic body and becoming flesh and blood again.
Nothing, except the fear that if I do, then somehow everything will go wrong and this amazing life I've managed to build for myself...I'll lose all of it. I'd rather live in my omnic body for a hundred more years than risk everything and lose it all.
Again.
"We're back," Jesse announces, "refueled and ready to hit those rifts!"
The moment's broken but the point is still made, and Papi doesn't say anything else as we settle on the couches. Adrienne claims a place at Reaper's side, so I grab my pad and flop down next to my brother. He gives me a one-armed hug before getting comfy.
"We have...fifty-three minutes before Papi's clothes are due to get here," I announce, checking a screen. "Let's make the most of it."
=
Fifty-two and a half minutes later, an omnic enters sensing range and sends me a hello ping.
/Package for you, Sombra,/ they say cheerfully.
/Thank you,/ I reply, gesturing for a time-out. /I'll be right there./
"Clothes?" Reaper asks.
"Clothes. May as well close the game, this might take a while."
Jesse looks at me. "It's just clothes."
"It's not just clothes, and you know it. It's Papi's ego."
That makes him laugh, which makes Papi growl and Adrienne giggle.
"No killing my brother while I'm gone," I tell Papi firmly.
"What do you mean, while you're gone? I'm going with you."
I roll my eyes and grin. "Fine, come on then."
The two of us go downstairs, where Solen's chatting with the omnic delivery courier.
"An honor to see you face to face," the courier says, handing over my package with a bow. I press my thumb against the delivery tracking device.
Reaper makes an amused sound. "You kill one god program," he teases.
The courier bows to him. "With all due respect, Commander Reyes, my respect for Sombra predates the fall of the false god."
That knocks the amusement out of him. "How- you told them," he half-accuses me.
"She did not," the courier says politely. "I was authorized to deliver to the Overwatch Headquarters here in Zurich. I delivered to your office fifty-three times, Commander. I'm not offended that you do not remember me; it was quite some time ago."
"Well, now I feel like a dick," Papi says.
"As I said, I take no offense. I have a hard time telling you organics apart, with the way you constantly change your appearance. Vocal modulation is much more reliable, I have found. Good day to you, Commander, and to you, Sombra. I hope to deliver for you again in the future!"
Reaper waits until the door is closed and Solen has returned to their duties elsewhere before saying, "I think I've been insulted, and I think I deserved it. Are we really so hard to tell apart?"
"Omnics don't wear cosmetics, have hair, or age," I say, trying not to laugh. "Facial recognition is much less precise than vocal recognition, and that's not even going into the subject of clothes."
"Clothes," he repeats. "It's time. Let's go."
We're upstairs in his room in record time. I remove the jeans, shirt, and hoodie from the shipping envelope and put them in his bathroom before gesturing him inside.
"Ready, Papi?"
He's practically shaking with tightly-controlled emotions. "Do it."
I gesture for him to turn around and place my hands on his back. The swarm accepts the modified prototype easily, and I lock the configuration for a full seven days. As Reaper starts to dissolve for reconfiguration, I back out of the bathroom and close the door. Reaper - Gabriel - makes some interesting noises as he checks over his new body, and then there's rustling and quiet swearing while he pulls on his new clothes.
"They're touching me," he shouts through the door. "All over!"
"They clothes, Papi," I shout back. "They supposed to touch you!"
"Well, I'm not used to it!"
"Well, you better get used to it! You not walking around this house with your bare ass hanging out!"
More rustling. I'm half afraid of what I'll see when the door opens, but he's wearing the jeans. He isn't wearing anything else, but he's wearing the jeans. The slight scowl his face has been programmed into looks like an understatement.
He crosses his arms. "They're. Touching. Me." The static face makes it look like he's throwing his voice because it doesn't move as he talks.
"Get. Used. To. It."
"You're a very insubordinate daughter, Alé."
"I take after you."
"...point."
"This is why we doing a dry run," I remind him. "Get you used to things before it gets awkward."
He sighs. "I know. You said this configuration has a proto-stomach. Can I drink?"
"You can, but you won't get drunk," I warn him.
That gets me a wordless growl. "Fine. I'm going to take a shower. Try to get used to that so I don't freeze my nuts off or scald my dick once I've got them again."
I give him a hug and kiss his cheek. "Okay. Take your time."
He hugs me back and presses unmoving lips to the top of my head before retreating back into the bathroom. I go back to the living room, where my sibs are cuddling on one couch.
"Papi's taking a shower," I tell Jesse and Adrienne as I join them. "After five, six years of being naked, he needs to desensitize his skin."
My sister nods. "Getting used to clothes that were loose took time."
"I locked him in the shape of his 45-year-old body, so for the next week, no calling him Reaper. Only Gabriel, Gabe, Dad, and Papi." They both nod. I open a screen. "Okay, I'm gonna tell Uncle Jack."
=
Papi doesn't come out of his room for an hour. When he does, he's again only wearing jeans and looks irritated to have to even wear that much.
"I told Uncle Jack and Tia Ana," I announce as he gingerly settles into a chair. "They the only two you talk to regularly and I didn't want it to be a shock. I figure no one else needs to know unless you want them to."
"I appreciate that," he says. "Is it weird, seeing me talk without my face moving?"
"A little," Jesse says. "But kind of not, because I'm used to the mask? So it's weird but not...that...way. I think." He shakes his head. "T'be honest, Dad, it's weirder seeing your face than it is not seeing it move."
"Tell me about it," Papi retorts dryly. "I think I spent twenty minutes just staring at myself in the mirror, touching my head and expecting my reflection to start talking to me."
"The asshole is dead," Adrienne says firmly. "That is your face. Take it back."
"I'm trying, 'Rienne. But I'm also realizing how much I can't do in this thing." He runs his hands over his bare scalp. "I can't chase the Frisbee until I'm tired. I can't chew a bone to distract myself. I can't even go for a walk because my face doesn't move. I'm going to drive you all crazy before the week is over."
The silence stretches as we all try to think of ways for Gabriel to occupy his time.
"What are you going to be for Halloween?" Adrienne asks suddenly. "This year, I would like a fancy costume like Sombra had."
Jesse grins. "Y'know, I could do with a fancier costume this year, too."
Gabriel sits straighter. He'd be smiling, if he could. "Alright, you little delinquents," he growls good-naturedly. "It's time to brainstorm."
=
The week passes faster than expected. It's not just Papi struggling to deal with being locked into one shape and the requirements it comes with - it's a group effort, his family stepping up to help and support him. When he gets frustrated and needs violence, Jesse takes him down to the practice range under the safehouse or I call Uncle Jack to come over and spar with him. It's not as satisfying without muscles, but he'll have them soon enough and he'll need to get back into the habit of maintaining them the hard way. The rest of his new wardrobe arrives after the first day, and trying everything on helps him get used to the feel of cloth on his skin again - not to mention bolsters his ego from seeing how good he looks. Adrienne recruits him to help plan meals he would like to eat once he can eat again, and her calm reassurance that he can get through this because she got through it never fails to earn her a long, warm hug. Costuming keeps him occupied for long hours at a time, and Tia Ana chats quietly with him late into the night, praising his bravery and promising that she will be there when he takes the final step.
Around the fifth day, I call Angela over and we sit down with him to go over how the transition is going to work. The estimate is ten to twelve hours this time because unlike the doberman, where about half his mass was crammed into the ultra-dense, synthetic material that made up his bones and muscles, every gram of his mass this time will have to be spun into his original DNA. Tante Angela starts talking about the set-up she has prepared at her lab for easing him through it, but with great restraint Papi tells her politely that he would be more comfortable transitioning here, at the safehouse. Angela makes uncertain faces at us until I offer to monitor the transition and apply nutrient fluid at regular intervals.
"I'm really going to do this," Papi murmurs after Angela leaves, hugging me like he might fall apart if he lets go.
"You really going to do it," I confirm. "Time to start making sure everything's ready. I know you been using the generic soap and everything. What brands do you want to actually use? What do you want to wear first? What do you want to eat first? When and how do you want to go public with your resurrection?"
"Easter Sunday," he says without hesitating. Then he releases me and laughs at my expression.
"Really, Papi? You gonna go ten months hiding that you exist again?"
"Yup."
"You can't just come out as alive on Christmas and call it a gift to the world?"
"Nope. You need to have a little fun with it, first."
I groan. "You mean conspicuous hats and shades and eating in high-profile places?"
"Go big or go home, hija."
"With Jack and Jesse, so people actually pay attention to who they with."
"You got it."
"Fine," I say melodramatically, dragging my hands down my face. "But I want fancy dresses for these fancy lunches, since I'm not letting you go unsupervised. And no more than two a month."
"Done and done," he says, hugging me again and pressing a mock-kiss into my hair. "I'll even let you pick the places."
That confuses me. "Why?"
"Because I trust you to figure out where we should be seen next for maximum impact."
I guess I really am doing this. "Fiiiiine. You lucky I love you, Papi," I tell him with insincere sternness.
"I know," he says quietly. "Thank you, Alé."
"You doing this for me," I reply, equally quiet. "How could I not support you?"
"There's supporting me," he teases, "and then there's encouraging my bullshit. You are not obligated to encourage my bullshit, hija." Another gentle hug and a mock-kiss on the top of my head. "But I'm grateful when you do."
=
We're in the backyard playing Team Frisbee (Jack and Jesse against me and Gabriel) when suddenly, Papi dissolves into a puddle of black smoke and clothes. Uncle Jack is so startled that the Frisbee he was supposed to catch hits him in the face and, alternating between chuckles and half-hearted exclamations of pain, he calls a time-out.
"Sombra? What happened?" he asks, looking at the seething mass on the grass in front of him.
"I coded the swarm to keep him in the prototype for seven days," I answer as Jesse and I jog over. "Seven days are up. Papi, you okay?"
The puddle of smoke eddies uneasily. I crouch down and stick my hand into it. The nanites report nothing out of the ordinary, so why...
Oh. He doesn't have voluntary access to the prototype, and picking another form would be 'cheating'. I almost command the swarm to take the prototype configuration and then remember that it will be naked.
"I guess you want to go straight to transitioning?" I ask the puddle, not really expecting an answer. "You don't want to hug everyone first? You gonna be out for ten to twelve hours, remember." Check the time. "And it's only four-thirty. Give it a couple of hours before you go under, so you wake up at a reasonable hour of the morning."
The puddle ripples, then stands up into the hoodie configuration. "Damn you for making sense," Papi growls. "Alright, unless you want to be distracted by the glory of my naked body, I'm declaring game called on account of clothes."
Jack blushes. "I, uh, think we can find something else to do."
"Yeah," Jesse agrees. "I mean...it's nothin' we haven't seen before? But that doesn't mean we need to see it again. No offense."
"I'm not offended at all that you're intimidated by manly beauty," Papi teases. "But I'll have pity on you."
"He's bluffing," I inform them dryly. "He doesn't have access to the prototype on his own."
They laugh as Papi melts into the doberman to glare at me.
=
"I will see you in the morning, Gabriel," Tia Ana says firmly as she hugs Papi. He hugs back, trembling a little. "Have no fear. Sombra will not allow you to come to harm."
"I know," he says quietly. "Thank you."
Jack's ready for his turn when Ana leaves Papi's bedroom. "I can't wait to kick your ass again, you son of a bitch," he says as he gives his old friend a hug that looks more like the prelude to throwing him to the floor.
"I'll go easy on you, old man," Papi retorts, returning the hug with equal aggression. "Your hours are numbered."
Once Jack's left the room, Jesse saunters in. He doesn't say anything, just hugs with barely-restrained emotion and then leaves with his head down, hiding the tears he's trying not to shed. Adrienne slips in last.
"I know it is scary to reclaim yourself," she says quietly. "You can do this. You will be fine. This is your victory over the asshole."
Papi presses Reaper's mask gently to the top of her head. "Thank you, 'Rienne. I'll see you in the morning."
"I know," she says, smiling.
Then the door is closed and it's just Papi, me, and Angela.
"Are you ready?" Angela asks gently.
"Yeah. Into the can, right?"
She nods. "And then we will add the new swarm. Sombra will be with you the whole time."
Papi hugs me just as desperately as he'd hugged everyone else. "You're sure you'll be okay?" he asks quietly.
"I slept most of the day. I'll be fine. I love you, Papi."
"I love you too, Alé," he murmurs into my hair before turning to face Angela and the can. "Alright. Let's do this."
For the last time, Papi dissolves into black smoke and flows into the COWA. His baseline mass registers at 110%, because he's been bulking up in preparation for this. Angela offers me the tube of nanites, and I run a last-second hash check to make sure the programming is correct. It is.
"You have done so much for him, Schattenkind. And while you have learned some from me, I have learned from you as well. I will be able to make many lives better with the programming techniques you have taught me. You are sure you do not wish to receive any credit for the advances we pioneered working on Gabriel?"
"I don't even exist to credit, Tante Angela," I tell her. "But even if I did...I've lived in the shadows for so long, I am content to let you be the one to shine."
"Then I want you to be the one to bring Gabriel back to himself," she says, pressing the tube into my hands. "You raised him out of the hell I unwittingly allowed him to be put into. It is only fitting that you restore him completely."
I look at the faintly-seething tube of silver dust. "Thank you, Angela. If..." My voice breaks, and I take a deep breath. "If, some day, I choose this path for myself...I will place myself in your hands."
She hugs me briefly, careful not to jostle the tube. "I expect you will have done half of the work already," she teases, "but your attention to detail is one of the things I admire about you. Now, I believe we have kept Gabriel waiting long enough. Do the honors, Sombra."
The nanites glitter like motes of fairy dust as I pour them into the can. The restless smoke boils for two minutes, then stills and takes on an almost wet texture. Angela smooths out the sheet of waterproof material that covers Papi's bed, and I pour him out onto it. This is definitely a new development; the mixture of swarm and biological mass has formed a tensile skin, and he looks like a giant black jelly bean.
"Is that what it's supposed to do?" Angela asks hesitantly, looking like she wants to poke the jelly bean.
I pull up a screen showing the swarm's activity and start laughing. "I should have expected that. He's been converted to a mass of stem cells. Give it a minute..."
As if on cue, the jelly bean shape spreads out, elongating into a blob six feet long and roughly as wide and high as an adult male in good physical condition.
"...and it will do that. Now...yes, it's starting with the circulatory system first. Gonna build him from the inside out."
Angela relaxes. "I leave him in your hands, then, but I will be on the couch if you need me."
She hugs me again, and then it's just me and the unformed mass of what was and will be Gabriel Reyes.
The night passes slowly. I monitor the swarm's activity, spritzing his mass with the glucose/nutrient solution every few minutes. It's a little creepy to be sitting next to what's basically a man-shaped bag of veins and arteries. It's creepier when the lungs and airways finish forming, and I'm sitting next to a man-shaped bag of veins and arteries that's breathing. But, at the same time, he's breathing. He's alive. He's breathing. There's a part of me that's relieved and reassured beyond words by that simple sound, but there's another part of me terrified that that soft rhythm will stop.
Around six in the morning, the swarm starts working on the nervous system, skin, hair - the last details. When the lungs are connected to the brain, their rhythm changes to something closer to a sleeping person, and it hits me that this is really happening. I'm listening to Gabriel Reyes breathe.
I bury my face in the edge of his blanket so no one will hear me cry. That soft sound, the sound I spent terror-soaked hours trying to hear from my mother over the screaming and the gunfire and the explosions outside, is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.
He's breathing.
He's alive.
=
Seven-thirty in the morning, the swarm activity drops to almost nothing. It only exists now in the roles of immune and digestive system components. Gabriel Reyes is lying on the bed, living, breathing, sleeping. I'm suddenly so excited and irrationally terrified that I can't stand it. His chosen clothes (jeans and a black tee-shirt that reads THIS IS WHAT AWESOME LOOKS LIKE) are folded up on top of the closed COWA already, so I sneak out of the room and close the door behind me.
Ana, unsurprisingly, is in the kitchen with a cup of tea. With a lift of her eyebrow, she asks silently how Gabriel is doing.
I sit next to her, in the chair that faces the doorway. "It's done," I say quietly. "He's sleeping."
"Nervous, little shadow?"
"Sort of."
There's a sound from Papi's room. In the near-silence of the wing I can hear him get out of bed and stretch, letting out a wordless sound of exertion and satisfaction as he does. Then, seconds later, the shower turns on.
I start the coffee brewing and dig out the WORLD'S GREATEST DAD mug. A minute or two after the shower stops, the door to his room opens and I pour fresh coffee into the mug. When Papi walks through the door, I'm right there offering it to him. Seeing him smile makes me feel like a child again. He takes the mug, sniffs, sips, and stands in wordless, beatific ecstasy for a long moment.
Then he puts the mug on the table and hugs me to his chest and it's nothing like being hugged by the hoodie configuration; I can feel the play of his muscles, hear his heart beat and the air moving in and out of his lungs, and he's alive, Papi's alive, Gabriel Reyes is my father and he's alive.
"Thank you," he murmurs into my hair, his lips moving and his breath ruffling and I can't believe this is real, there's no way this could be real but it is, and I'm crying. "Shh, hija, it's okay."
"You're alive," I whisper into his chest when my breathing calms enough.
He chuckles. I can feel it, hear it vibrate through muscle and skin and cloth, feel the way his body shakes. "I'm alive," he agrees, "and you, little shadow, made it happen."
I shake my head. "It was your choice..."
"I wouldn't have chosen this without you, and you know it. Ana, back me up."
"I was not a part of that conversation," she protests. "However, I had very little hope that you would return to us in any way before I first heard from her. And now you are back," she says, voice shaking, "and like Sombra, I find myself...overwhelmed."
Papi lays a kiss - a real kiss - on the top of my head and releases me to hug Tia Ana, who's crying with a lot more composure than I managed. There's noise from the living room and then Jesse's in the doorway with tears on his cheeks and Jack's behind him, and Adrienne, and Angela, and we turn into a confused tangle of hugging and crying for several minutes before everyone regains their composure.
"Rumors of my death have been...severely inaccurate," Papi says, grinning. "But, thanks to my little shadow, I'm back to make all your lives miserable." He gives it a few beats for appreciative chuckles. "Now...which one of the delinquents who call themselves my kids is making breakfast?"
My name, growled into my ear by a dog in the middle of the night, is not an unusual occurrence. Papi finds it easiest to talk about difficult things when no one else is awake, much less around to overhear. "Si?" I answer, half-asleep still, wondering if something about our little Father's Day celebration is bothering him.
"I want to do it." There's a pause, like he's bracing himself, and I can feel the tension in his body. "I want to become Gabriel Reyes again."
Okay, that...I'm awake. I am very awake and not completely certain I just heard that. "Papi??"
He looks up at me, because I've just sat up in alarm. "I want to be the father you deserve," he says in a quiet but determined voice. Then, in what is absolutely a tone of dignified pleading, "Help me."
I...he wants...but he's...for me...?
Yeah. I'm crying.
He licks at my face as I hug his neck, and it's a few minutes before I can get coherent words out. "You already the best father," I say into his fur.
"But not the best father I can be," he counters, tail wagging a little. "You deserve a father you can take out in public without a leash."
That makes me laugh. "I think Tia Ana would say even as Gabriel Reyes, you need a leash."
That makes him laugh. "It wouldn't stop me, but good luck trying anyway. So...you'll do it?"
"Choice was always yours, Papi," I say quietly. "Angela and I have the program all ready to go in case this day ever came."
"What aren't you telling me, hija?"
"If you do this, there is no going back. No dog, no wisping, nothing. Just Gabriel Reyes."
"No sleeping in your bed," he says dryly. "No pulling shotguns out of thin air. No sneaking under locked doors. No hiding in the can, no chewing on shark spine or beef femurs, no being petted or brushed." He lets that sink in for a minute, thinking about all the unique benefits he's gotten used to since everything went to hell. "Being able to walk around in public. Hot showers. Broken-in jeans. Sprawling on the couch. Not having half the people I know dance around trying to figure out what to call me. Facial expressions. Opposable thumbs on hands that can feel texture. Seeing the inside of a restaurant." He gives it two beats before saying softly, "The look on your face when you see my face and it sinks in that Gabriel Reyes is actually your father."
I'm crying again, but before I can hug him he's in the hoodie configuration hugging me.
"I want to do this, Alé," he murmurs into my hair. "Today was the last straw. You deserve better than a dog. How do we make this happen?"
For a minute or two I just lean against his chest and think. When my breathing is calm again, I say, "I think we should do a dry run first. Spend a week locked in the prototype."
I can feel him flinch. "How is that a dry run? Because it has a face?"
"I been tweaking it, Papi. Took away the clothes. I put you in it, you gonna be naked," I tease.
"You took away my hoodie?" he teases back in mock-outrage. "And my jeans? I worked so hard to pick them out!"
"And now you get to wear them for real. And the hoodie, and the boots, and socks, and underwear, and shirts."
"No underwear," he says.
That....I press my hands over my eyes and engage the buffer, like when I've gone digging up someone's dirty secrets and they're dirtier than I thought they would be. "Okay, no underwear. Pajamas?"
"Boxers."
"Fine. You won't be able to eat, but the mouth opens and you can pour LRF down your throat to be absorbed by a prototype stomach. You won't starve."
Reaper hugs me tighter in silent apology. "Thank you, Alé."
"So tomorrow we can order you a wardrobe, and start your dry run as soon as it arrives, and if that goes well..." My voice trembles. "If that goes well, I'll call Angela in for the last big upgrade your swarm will ever get."
"Will I still have a swarm?"
I nod against his chest. "We talked about it. The swarm will replace your white blood cells and the microbial colony that would normally populate your digestive tract, but other than that, you'll be flesh and blood."
The mask presses gently against my hair. "You're falling asleep, hija. Lay down. We'll talk in the morning."
When I lay back down, a doberman snuggles up to me and the world fades out.
=
Papi's already up when I drag myself out of sleep, lapping LRF out of his dish. I sit next to him on the floor, petting gently.
"I thought you'd be relishing real food before your week of denial," I half-tease.
He snorts. "Too impatient to get started."
While he finishes, I change out of my pajamas. He wisps out of the room and is already sitting on the couch in the hoodie configuration, waiting, when I get out to the living room. Jesse stumbles out of his room while I'm getting settled, gives us a sleepily-confused look, and goes into the kitchen - only to come right back out.
"There's no coffee," he complains. "What gives?"
"Make it yourself," Reaper growls. "You're an adult."
Adrienne comes out of her room, hugs our trash cowboy brother, and says softly, "I will make it."
"Aww, thanks. You're a peach, quiet-sis." He hugs her back, and she goes into the kitchen. Once she's out of sight, he comes over and leans down before saying in a low voice, "What gives, you two?"
"Preparing for a dry run," Papi says shortly. "You may have a real father in eight to ten days."
Jesse sits abruptly on the closest chair. "Dad, you mean it? You're going to..."
"We'll see," he snaps.
"But you want to."
Reaper sighs. "Yes."
That gets him hugged. "Whatever you need from me, Dad, you've got it. Just ask. Or demand. 'M good either way."
"What I need is clothes," he says dryly, but he's hugging back. "Hija, let's start with jeans."
=
There's a lot of arguing, of course. I win the first argument and get orders for a basic outfit placed before the cutoff for same-day delivery: black hoodie, black tee, and the first pair of jeans that would fit. There's a bit of discussion, but socks get sorted out very quickly, and Papi apparently has a favorite brand and style of boots, so that's the calm before the storm.
Then I let him loose on the jeans. He has a dozen pairs in the cart before he realizes I'm going to let him get ALL of them, and then he takes half of them back out with mutters about how I'm taking the fun out of it by just letting him have what he wants.
To make him feel better, we do boxers next and I throw a fit over every outrageous design he manages to find. Naturally, that makes him argue for even more outrageous designs. I'm not sure who actually won when he winds up with the black silk with giant flame-colored lips, but I do know he's going to damn well wear them just to prove a point. He winds up with some normal ones, but also a pair that proclaims I'M TOO SEXY FOR MY BODY and one with an arrow pointing up labeled THE MAN and an arrow pointing at the seam labeled THE LEGEND. He absolutely insists on the one with stars on one side, stripes on the other, and an eagle right in the middle, but I suspect it's going to be a gag gift to either Jesse or Uncle Jack.
Shirts and things to go over shirts wind up being less argument and more fashion debate, and while he's got some tee-shirts with sarcastic phrases on them and some button-up denim to throw over them, he's also got some nice button-up shirts and we go back for pants that match and something more dressy to put on his feet. Just when I think we're done, he declares that he needs sweats and running shoes.
"Anything else?" I ask, fingers hovering over screens.
He thinks about it for a minute. "Cold-weather gear can wait until it's cold. Swimwear?"
"You wanna go to the beach with a static face?"
"I won't have the static face for long," he counters.
"Then you'll have time to pick things out during the dry run," I say firmly, closing screens.
Reaper hugs me. "Thank you for putting up with me," he murmurs into my hair.
I lean into the hug. "I know this is hard on you, Papi."
Before I can say anything else, there's a quiet-sis and a cowboy brother handing us gaming pads.
"Enough of that," Jesse says, settling onto the other couch with Adrienne. "We've got an hour before lunch, a pizza scheduled to be delivered, and then another hour before your first packages get here, if I overheard right...?"
"It is time for relaxing," quiet-sis says firmly. "No more worries. Only demons."
Reaper looks around at the rest of us all smiling at him. "I have the best kids," he says. "Alright. Anyone have plans? No? All monk run, yes on stash, hardcore. Bounties. Let's kick some demon ass."
=
While the other two devour pizza, Reaper paces in the hoodie configuration. He doesn't want to go to the dog - apparently, that's "cheating" - but physical activity without actual muscles isn't satisfying.
"It feels like I'm numb all over, but inside," he growls.
"I added temperature feedback," I offer. "I know that won't help with being a beanbag doll, but it will help with feeling less like a beanbag doll."
"How-" he starts to ask, then shakes his head. "Let me guess. It's what you have." He stops and sighs. "Being a dog has spoiled me."
"You can do it, Papi. You literally held yourself together for how long before I came around?"
"Too damn long," he says, hugging me. "Hija...it's been longer for you."
That's all he says, but that's all he has to say because it's been the elephant in the room since he first learned my name, and he can feel me trembling. Everything I sacrificed my organic body to do, I have done, and more. There's nothing left to hold me back from shedding my omnic body and becoming flesh and blood again.
Nothing, except the fear that if I do, then somehow everything will go wrong and this amazing life I've managed to build for myself...I'll lose all of it. I'd rather live in my omnic body for a hundred more years than risk everything and lose it all.
Again.
"We're back," Jesse announces, "refueled and ready to hit those rifts!"
The moment's broken but the point is still made, and Papi doesn't say anything else as we settle on the couches. Adrienne claims a place at Reaper's side, so I grab my pad and flop down next to my brother. He gives me a one-armed hug before getting comfy.
"We have...fifty-three minutes before Papi's clothes are due to get here," I announce, checking a screen. "Let's make the most of it."
=
Fifty-two and a half minutes later, an omnic enters sensing range and sends me a hello ping.
/Package for you, Sombra,/ they say cheerfully.
/Thank you,/ I reply, gesturing for a time-out. /I'll be right there./
"Clothes?" Reaper asks.
"Clothes. May as well close the game, this might take a while."
Jesse looks at me. "It's just clothes."
"It's not just clothes, and you know it. It's Papi's ego."
That makes him laugh, which makes Papi growl and Adrienne giggle.
"No killing my brother while I'm gone," I tell Papi firmly.
"What do you mean, while you're gone? I'm going with you."
I roll my eyes and grin. "Fine, come on then."
The two of us go downstairs, where Solen's chatting with the omnic delivery courier.
"An honor to see you face to face," the courier says, handing over my package with a bow. I press my thumb against the delivery tracking device.
Reaper makes an amused sound. "You kill one god program," he teases.
The courier bows to him. "With all due respect, Commander Reyes, my respect for Sombra predates the fall of the false god."
That knocks the amusement out of him. "How- you told them," he half-accuses me.
"She did not," the courier says politely. "I was authorized to deliver to the Overwatch Headquarters here in Zurich. I delivered to your office fifty-three times, Commander. I'm not offended that you do not remember me; it was quite some time ago."
"Well, now I feel like a dick," Papi says.
"As I said, I take no offense. I have a hard time telling you organics apart, with the way you constantly change your appearance. Vocal modulation is much more reliable, I have found. Good day to you, Commander, and to you, Sombra. I hope to deliver for you again in the future!"
Reaper waits until the door is closed and Solen has returned to their duties elsewhere before saying, "I think I've been insulted, and I think I deserved it. Are we really so hard to tell apart?"
"Omnics don't wear cosmetics, have hair, or age," I say, trying not to laugh. "Facial recognition is much less precise than vocal recognition, and that's not even going into the subject of clothes."
"Clothes," he repeats. "It's time. Let's go."
We're upstairs in his room in record time. I remove the jeans, shirt, and hoodie from the shipping envelope and put them in his bathroom before gesturing him inside.
"Ready, Papi?"
He's practically shaking with tightly-controlled emotions. "Do it."
I gesture for him to turn around and place my hands on his back. The swarm accepts the modified prototype easily, and I lock the configuration for a full seven days. As Reaper starts to dissolve for reconfiguration, I back out of the bathroom and close the door. Reaper - Gabriel - makes some interesting noises as he checks over his new body, and then there's rustling and quiet swearing while he pulls on his new clothes.
"They're touching me," he shouts through the door. "All over!"
"They clothes, Papi," I shout back. "They supposed to touch you!"
"Well, I'm not used to it!"
"Well, you better get used to it! You not walking around this house with your bare ass hanging out!"
More rustling. I'm half afraid of what I'll see when the door opens, but he's wearing the jeans. He isn't wearing anything else, but he's wearing the jeans. The slight scowl his face has been programmed into looks like an understatement.
He crosses his arms. "They're. Touching. Me." The static face makes it look like he's throwing his voice because it doesn't move as he talks.
"Get. Used. To. It."
"You're a very insubordinate daughter, Alé."
"I take after you."
"...point."
"This is why we doing a dry run," I remind him. "Get you used to things before it gets awkward."
He sighs. "I know. You said this configuration has a proto-stomach. Can I drink?"
"You can, but you won't get drunk," I warn him.
That gets me a wordless growl. "Fine. I'm going to take a shower. Try to get used to that so I don't freeze my nuts off or scald my dick once I've got them again."
I give him a hug and kiss his cheek. "Okay. Take your time."
He hugs me back and presses unmoving lips to the top of my head before retreating back into the bathroom. I go back to the living room, where my sibs are cuddling on one couch.
"Papi's taking a shower," I tell Jesse and Adrienne as I join them. "After five, six years of being naked, he needs to desensitize his skin."
My sister nods. "Getting used to clothes that were loose took time."
"I locked him in the shape of his 45-year-old body, so for the next week, no calling him Reaper. Only Gabriel, Gabe, Dad, and Papi." They both nod. I open a screen. "Okay, I'm gonna tell Uncle Jack."
=
Papi doesn't come out of his room for an hour. When he does, he's again only wearing jeans and looks irritated to have to even wear that much.
"I told Uncle Jack and Tia Ana," I announce as he gingerly settles into a chair. "They the only two you talk to regularly and I didn't want it to be a shock. I figure no one else needs to know unless you want them to."
"I appreciate that," he says. "Is it weird, seeing me talk without my face moving?"
"A little," Jesse says. "But kind of not, because I'm used to the mask? So it's weird but not...that...way. I think." He shakes his head. "T'be honest, Dad, it's weirder seeing your face than it is not seeing it move."
"Tell me about it," Papi retorts dryly. "I think I spent twenty minutes just staring at myself in the mirror, touching my head and expecting my reflection to start talking to me."
"The asshole is dead," Adrienne says firmly. "That is your face. Take it back."
"I'm trying, 'Rienne. But I'm also realizing how much I can't do in this thing." He runs his hands over his bare scalp. "I can't chase the Frisbee until I'm tired. I can't chew a bone to distract myself. I can't even go for a walk because my face doesn't move. I'm going to drive you all crazy before the week is over."
The silence stretches as we all try to think of ways for Gabriel to occupy his time.
"What are you going to be for Halloween?" Adrienne asks suddenly. "This year, I would like a fancy costume like Sombra had."
Jesse grins. "Y'know, I could do with a fancier costume this year, too."
Gabriel sits straighter. He'd be smiling, if he could. "Alright, you little delinquents," he growls good-naturedly. "It's time to brainstorm."
=
The week passes faster than expected. It's not just Papi struggling to deal with being locked into one shape and the requirements it comes with - it's a group effort, his family stepping up to help and support him. When he gets frustrated and needs violence, Jesse takes him down to the practice range under the safehouse or I call Uncle Jack to come over and spar with him. It's not as satisfying without muscles, but he'll have them soon enough and he'll need to get back into the habit of maintaining them the hard way. The rest of his new wardrobe arrives after the first day, and trying everything on helps him get used to the feel of cloth on his skin again - not to mention bolsters his ego from seeing how good he looks. Adrienne recruits him to help plan meals he would like to eat once he can eat again, and her calm reassurance that he can get through this because she got through it never fails to earn her a long, warm hug. Costuming keeps him occupied for long hours at a time, and Tia Ana chats quietly with him late into the night, praising his bravery and promising that she will be there when he takes the final step.
Around the fifth day, I call Angela over and we sit down with him to go over how the transition is going to work. The estimate is ten to twelve hours this time because unlike the doberman, where about half his mass was crammed into the ultra-dense, synthetic material that made up his bones and muscles, every gram of his mass this time will have to be spun into his original DNA. Tante Angela starts talking about the set-up she has prepared at her lab for easing him through it, but with great restraint Papi tells her politely that he would be more comfortable transitioning here, at the safehouse. Angela makes uncertain faces at us until I offer to monitor the transition and apply nutrient fluid at regular intervals.
"I'm really going to do this," Papi murmurs after Angela leaves, hugging me like he might fall apart if he lets go.
"You really going to do it," I confirm. "Time to start making sure everything's ready. I know you been using the generic soap and everything. What brands do you want to actually use? What do you want to wear first? What do you want to eat first? When and how do you want to go public with your resurrection?"
"Easter Sunday," he says without hesitating. Then he releases me and laughs at my expression.
"Really, Papi? You gonna go ten months hiding that you exist again?"
"Yup."
"You can't just come out as alive on Christmas and call it a gift to the world?"
"Nope. You need to have a little fun with it, first."
I groan. "You mean conspicuous hats and shades and eating in high-profile places?"
"Go big or go home, hija."
"With Jack and Jesse, so people actually pay attention to who they with."
"You got it."
"Fine," I say melodramatically, dragging my hands down my face. "But I want fancy dresses for these fancy lunches, since I'm not letting you go unsupervised. And no more than two a month."
"Done and done," he says, hugging me again and pressing a mock-kiss into my hair. "I'll even let you pick the places."
That confuses me. "Why?"
"Because I trust you to figure out where we should be seen next for maximum impact."
I guess I really am doing this. "Fiiiiine. You lucky I love you, Papi," I tell him with insincere sternness.
"I know," he says quietly. "Thank you, Alé."
"You doing this for me," I reply, equally quiet. "How could I not support you?"
"There's supporting me," he teases, "and then there's encouraging my bullshit. You are not obligated to encourage my bullshit, hija." Another gentle hug and a mock-kiss on the top of my head. "But I'm grateful when you do."
=
We're in the backyard playing Team Frisbee (Jack and Jesse against me and Gabriel) when suddenly, Papi dissolves into a puddle of black smoke and clothes. Uncle Jack is so startled that the Frisbee he was supposed to catch hits him in the face and, alternating between chuckles and half-hearted exclamations of pain, he calls a time-out.
"Sombra? What happened?" he asks, looking at the seething mass on the grass in front of him.
"I coded the swarm to keep him in the prototype for seven days," I answer as Jesse and I jog over. "Seven days are up. Papi, you okay?"
The puddle of smoke eddies uneasily. I crouch down and stick my hand into it. The nanites report nothing out of the ordinary, so why...
Oh. He doesn't have voluntary access to the prototype, and picking another form would be 'cheating'. I almost command the swarm to take the prototype configuration and then remember that it will be naked.
"I guess you want to go straight to transitioning?" I ask the puddle, not really expecting an answer. "You don't want to hug everyone first? You gonna be out for ten to twelve hours, remember." Check the time. "And it's only four-thirty. Give it a couple of hours before you go under, so you wake up at a reasonable hour of the morning."
The puddle ripples, then stands up into the hoodie configuration. "Damn you for making sense," Papi growls. "Alright, unless you want to be distracted by the glory of my naked body, I'm declaring game called on account of clothes."
Jack blushes. "I, uh, think we can find something else to do."
"Yeah," Jesse agrees. "I mean...it's nothin' we haven't seen before? But that doesn't mean we need to see it again. No offense."
"I'm not offended at all that you're intimidated by manly beauty," Papi teases. "But I'll have pity on you."
"He's bluffing," I inform them dryly. "He doesn't have access to the prototype on his own."
They laugh as Papi melts into the doberman to glare at me.
=
"I will see you in the morning, Gabriel," Tia Ana says firmly as she hugs Papi. He hugs back, trembling a little. "Have no fear. Sombra will not allow you to come to harm."
"I know," he says quietly. "Thank you."
Jack's ready for his turn when Ana leaves Papi's bedroom. "I can't wait to kick your ass again, you son of a bitch," he says as he gives his old friend a hug that looks more like the prelude to throwing him to the floor.
"I'll go easy on you, old man," Papi retorts, returning the hug with equal aggression. "Your hours are numbered."
Once Jack's left the room, Jesse saunters in. He doesn't say anything, just hugs with barely-restrained emotion and then leaves with his head down, hiding the tears he's trying not to shed. Adrienne slips in last.
"I know it is scary to reclaim yourself," she says quietly. "You can do this. You will be fine. This is your victory over the asshole."
Papi presses Reaper's mask gently to the top of her head. "Thank you, 'Rienne. I'll see you in the morning."
"I know," she says, smiling.
Then the door is closed and it's just Papi, me, and Angela.
"Are you ready?" Angela asks gently.
"Yeah. Into the can, right?"
She nods. "And then we will add the new swarm. Sombra will be with you the whole time."
Papi hugs me just as desperately as he'd hugged everyone else. "You're sure you'll be okay?" he asks quietly.
"I slept most of the day. I'll be fine. I love you, Papi."
"I love you too, Alé," he murmurs into my hair before turning to face Angela and the can. "Alright. Let's do this."
For the last time, Papi dissolves into black smoke and flows into the COWA. His baseline mass registers at 110%, because he's been bulking up in preparation for this. Angela offers me the tube of nanites, and I run a last-second hash check to make sure the programming is correct. It is.
"You have done so much for him, Schattenkind. And while you have learned some from me, I have learned from you as well. I will be able to make many lives better with the programming techniques you have taught me. You are sure you do not wish to receive any credit for the advances we pioneered working on Gabriel?"
"I don't even exist to credit, Tante Angela," I tell her. "But even if I did...I've lived in the shadows for so long, I am content to let you be the one to shine."
"Then I want you to be the one to bring Gabriel back to himself," she says, pressing the tube into my hands. "You raised him out of the hell I unwittingly allowed him to be put into. It is only fitting that you restore him completely."
I look at the faintly-seething tube of silver dust. "Thank you, Angela. If..." My voice breaks, and I take a deep breath. "If, some day, I choose this path for myself...I will place myself in your hands."
She hugs me briefly, careful not to jostle the tube. "I expect you will have done half of the work already," she teases, "but your attention to detail is one of the things I admire about you. Now, I believe we have kept Gabriel waiting long enough. Do the honors, Sombra."
The nanites glitter like motes of fairy dust as I pour them into the can. The restless smoke boils for two minutes, then stills and takes on an almost wet texture. Angela smooths out the sheet of waterproof material that covers Papi's bed, and I pour him out onto it. This is definitely a new development; the mixture of swarm and biological mass has formed a tensile skin, and he looks like a giant black jelly bean.
"Is that what it's supposed to do?" Angela asks hesitantly, looking like she wants to poke the jelly bean.
I pull up a screen showing the swarm's activity and start laughing. "I should have expected that. He's been converted to a mass of stem cells. Give it a minute..."
As if on cue, the jelly bean shape spreads out, elongating into a blob six feet long and roughly as wide and high as an adult male in good physical condition.
"...and it will do that. Now...yes, it's starting with the circulatory system first. Gonna build him from the inside out."
Angela relaxes. "I leave him in your hands, then, but I will be on the couch if you need me."
She hugs me again, and then it's just me and the unformed mass of what was and will be Gabriel Reyes.
The night passes slowly. I monitor the swarm's activity, spritzing his mass with the glucose/nutrient solution every few minutes. It's a little creepy to be sitting next to what's basically a man-shaped bag of veins and arteries. It's creepier when the lungs and airways finish forming, and I'm sitting next to a man-shaped bag of veins and arteries that's breathing. But, at the same time, he's breathing. He's alive. He's breathing. There's a part of me that's relieved and reassured beyond words by that simple sound, but there's another part of me terrified that that soft rhythm will stop.
Around six in the morning, the swarm starts working on the nervous system, skin, hair - the last details. When the lungs are connected to the brain, their rhythm changes to something closer to a sleeping person, and it hits me that this is really happening. I'm listening to Gabriel Reyes breathe.
I bury my face in the edge of his blanket so no one will hear me cry. That soft sound, the sound I spent terror-soaked hours trying to hear from my mother over the screaming and the gunfire and the explosions outside, is the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.
He's breathing.
He's alive.
=
Seven-thirty in the morning, the swarm activity drops to almost nothing. It only exists now in the roles of immune and digestive system components. Gabriel Reyes is lying on the bed, living, breathing, sleeping. I'm suddenly so excited and irrationally terrified that I can't stand it. His chosen clothes (jeans and a black tee-shirt that reads THIS IS WHAT AWESOME LOOKS LIKE) are folded up on top of the closed COWA already, so I sneak out of the room and close the door behind me.
Ana, unsurprisingly, is in the kitchen with a cup of tea. With a lift of her eyebrow, she asks silently how Gabriel is doing.
I sit next to her, in the chair that faces the doorway. "It's done," I say quietly. "He's sleeping."
"Nervous, little shadow?"
"Sort of."
There's a sound from Papi's room. In the near-silence of the wing I can hear him get out of bed and stretch, letting out a wordless sound of exertion and satisfaction as he does. Then, seconds later, the shower turns on.
I start the coffee brewing and dig out the WORLD'S GREATEST DAD mug. A minute or two after the shower stops, the door to his room opens and I pour fresh coffee into the mug. When Papi walks through the door, I'm right there offering it to him. Seeing him smile makes me feel like a child again. He takes the mug, sniffs, sips, and stands in wordless, beatific ecstasy for a long moment.
Then he puts the mug on the table and hugs me to his chest and it's nothing like being hugged by the hoodie configuration; I can feel the play of his muscles, hear his heart beat and the air moving in and out of his lungs, and he's alive, Papi's alive, Gabriel Reyes is my father and he's alive.
"Thank you," he murmurs into my hair, his lips moving and his breath ruffling and I can't believe this is real, there's no way this could be real but it is, and I'm crying. "Shh, hija, it's okay."
"You're alive," I whisper into his chest when my breathing calms enough.
He chuckles. I can feel it, hear it vibrate through muscle and skin and cloth, feel the way his body shakes. "I'm alive," he agrees, "and you, little shadow, made it happen."
I shake my head. "It was your choice..."
"I wouldn't have chosen this without you, and you know it. Ana, back me up."
"I was not a part of that conversation," she protests. "However, I had very little hope that you would return to us in any way before I first heard from her. And now you are back," she says, voice shaking, "and like Sombra, I find myself...overwhelmed."
Papi lays a kiss - a real kiss - on the top of my head and releases me to hug Tia Ana, who's crying with a lot more composure than I managed. There's noise from the living room and then Jesse's in the doorway with tears on his cheeks and Jack's behind him, and Adrienne, and Angela, and we turn into a confused tangle of hugging and crying for several minutes before everyone regains their composure.
"Rumors of my death have been...severely inaccurate," Papi says, grinning. "But, thanks to my little shadow, I'm back to make all your lives miserable." He gives it a few beats for appreciative chuckles. "Now...which one of the delinquents who call themselves my kids is making breakfast?"