Moving forward
Feb. 7th, 2013 02:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moonshadowsWith most of Overwatch's scattered core members in the same place again, the post-battle meeting breaks up into smaller groups that disperse to talk quietly. Angela, Winston, and Athena cluster at one end of the table, while Jesse ambles over to hug me.
"I'm abducting your Papi," he informs me casually.
Reaper growls. "Like hell you are."
"Your other daughter heard you turn into a dog, Dad, and she wants to cuddle you." The cowboy smirks. "So you, me, her, and Ana are all gonna go sit and talk."
"I'm not leaving Sombra alone," Reaper starts, but breaks off as Genji and Zenyatta join us.
"I would welcome the opportunity to keep your daughter company," Zenyatta says smoothly. "I believe you are familiar with my student?"
Genji and Reaper stare at each other in bizarrely tense silence. I can see that Papi wants to be angry and suspicious, but the pseudo-linksignal doesn't let him. My linkbrother is also a bit apprehensive in the not-face of the man he used to know, but he trusts me and knows that Reaper trusts me, and he's choosing to have faith that something of Commander Reyes exists beneath the mask.
"Yes," Reaper says finally. "Sombra?"
"We just gonna sit and bond, Papi," I assure him. "My room okay?"
Two nods, and Reaper relaxes. "Fine. Take care of her," he tells the other two.
"We were in the linkweb," Genji says quietly. "It was...overwhelming. A smaller linkweb will help settle her. She needs calm after that chaotic ocean."
Reaper nods, and Jesse herds him off for one type of family bonding while I leave with Zenyatta and my linkbrother for another type.
=
After a few hours of linkweb bonding and a new linkbrother, I feel much better about the experience I survived. Genji and Zenyatta excuse themselves to catch up with Ana, and almost at the same time, Jesse leads Widow and Papi-dog into my room with a stack of gaming pads.
"Quiet-sis wants to play Diablo 3 with you," he drawls, pleased with himself. "I've been showing her the ropes, but she wants to try a witch doctor and I can't figure that class out to save my life. How do you do that?"
"I just that good," I tease as I take my pad. "What class you been playing?" I ask Widow as we all get situated on the bed.
"Monk," she says quietly. "Ana showed me. Jesse showed me demon hunter."
Reaper hmphs. "And then I showed her how to do it right."
"I can play any way I want," Jesse protests. "Besides, you won't tell me how you do it anyway."
"Skill," Reaper answers, amused wisps curling up from his arms.
Sandwiched between my pseudo-linksister and my trash cowboy brother, with Papi on Widow's other side, I grin. "Alright, amiga. Roll a witch doctor and join my game. I show you what to do while Papi and Jesse run bounties for us."
"Thanks, shadow-sis," the cowboy says dryly.
"Less Q Q more pew pew, McCree." Reaper teleports to a different act entirely. "Try to finish one or two before I get this act clear."
"Fine, Dad." While I'm showing Widow what skills my witch doctor uses, he leans over and whispers, "What's cue cue mean?"
"I think he telling you to stop complaining, but don't ask why it means that because amigo, I got no idea."
Reaper just laughs.
=
After McCree and Widow leave to go sleep in their respective beds, Reaper puts the pads away while I change into the pajamas he gave me. He comes back with the tail end of a bottle of LRF, which he pours into his water dish and then switches to doberman to drink. For several minutes I just sit on the floor next to him, petting and brushing, and he sprawls half across my lap to soak up the attention.
"I should have told you I backed myself up," I say quietly.
He twitches one ear but otherwise doesn't move. Then he sighs. "I should have told you I would shoot to kill."
"I don't blame you for that, Papi."
"And I don't blame you. We don't exactly talk about your body."
But you won't, he said, and I feel guilty. "I had to blend in."
"I know, Alé. I'm just glad that if I'd had to shoot you, you would still be okay."
I pull him up to hug his neck. "I'm glad you would have shot me if my plan didn't work."
"You scared the crap out of me, hija."
"I sorry, Papi."
He lays his head on my shoulder and whispers, "I should have told you about the deal," into my hair.
"Was that why you felt bad enough to sit in the closet?" I ask quietly.
It's a long, trembling minute before he whines and says, "Yes."
I just hug him. After a few minutes of silent reassurance, he pulls away and we climb into bed.
"My parent omnium likes you," I tell him as we settle down. "You got invited to come visit the next time I go home."
Reaper laughs quietly. "I'm not sure how I should feel about that. Your omnium does know who I was, right?"
"Si, I told it that you used to be Gabriel Reyes, but now you are my father."
Beside me, his doggy body goes very still. Then he starts trembling, and sticks his head half under my pillow. "What if I want to be Gabriel Reyes again?"
I scratch behind his ears. "Then I make it happen."
"How? My body..."
"Trust me, Papi. If I can't find a way, I will make a way."
The trembling stops. A few breaths later, he laughs softly. "Alright, hija. You got me this far. I trust you."
Sleep is warm and dark.
=
I wake up to a message from my friend Katya Volskaya. She's politely informing me that she's going public with her own blackmail information and that as such, our little agreement is null and void. That's fair enough; with the current turn of events, having allied with free omnics to defend against controlled omnics isn't a political death sentence. But she also mentions someone that wanted to meet with me personally who is already on their way.
Okay. How the fuck does she know where I am?
Jesse's beaten us to the kitchen and has breakfast more than ready. Scrambled eggs with cheese, country-fried potatoes, bacon, sausage, and toast are all piled in pans and plates, and he and Widow are already eating. Him, heartily; her, hesitantly. Reaper's wagging as he climbs onto a chair and discovers a plate of coffee already in front of him.
"Quiet-sis helped," Jesse says as I load a plate for Papi. "You were looking a little frazzled around the edges last night, even after bonding with Genji 'n Zenyatta. Figured I could make breakfast for once."
"You did good, cowboy," Reaper says in something resembling approval.
McCree flushes and ducks his head. "Aw. Thanks, Dad."
Reaper doesn't say anything, but he wags just a little harder.
Over Ana's secure channel, I can hear her people reporting that someone large and angry is demanding to be let in. That's probably my visitor. I patch myself into the channel and tell them I'll handle it.
"Sombra?" Reaper asks warily.
I scratch behind his ears. "If I'm right, friend of Volskaya. I'll be fine."
"You better be," he growls.
As I leave the wing and head for the first floor, I can hear Ana's people reassuring someone that they'll be let in shortly. In the background, someone with a Russian accent declares their patience is thin. I'm rattling down the central stairs when whoever-it-is threatens to break the door down.
"Open the door," I say into Ana's channel.
"But-"
"It's my safehouse, amigo. Open. The. Door."
The door opens just as I reach the bottom, and a figure that could probably rival Reinhardt is silhouetted in the doorframe. They take two steps inside and the door closes and hoooooly shit that's Zaryanova. I charge an EMP just in case.
"I am Sombra," I start, but she cuts me off.
"I know who you are," she declares ominously, arms crossed over her chest. Then she lunges and wraps arms thicker than Papi's thighs around me, pinning mine, and lifts me off the ground with the force of her...hug? "You are the one who ended the war threatening my people," she says in the sternest form of gratitude I've ever heard. "Every omnic on the battlefield stopped dead, all at once. Then, there was a great shout. 'The false god is dead,' they cried. 'Sombra has saved us from the false god.' Then they all turned and retreated. Every single omnic to come out of the Siberian Omnium turned around and went back to the omnium, and my people are safe."
With that, she sets me back on the floor and I re-absorb the charged EMP. "I did not act alone," I tell her. "Omnics from all over the world all had an equal part in slaying the false god that forced the omnium to attack your people." The memory of that incredible linkweb rises up, like the Siberian Omnium's rage, and makes me tremble. "If any voice in that roar was louder than another, it was the voice of the omnium itself. I heard its rage. It led the charge, not me."
"No," she says firmly, arms crossed again. "I followed the retreating omnics into the omnium. I spoke with it, and with Volskaya's omnic allies. You orchestrated the attack on the false god. You drew him out. Do not dismiss your own bravery simply because you did not act alone. You acted first, and that is why you are honored. That is why I have come to thank you in person. You are the one responsible for ending the Second Omnic Crisis."
And then she hugs me again, not as crushingly as the first time but still impressively.
"Thank you," I tell her in a voice that shakes only a little.
"Thank you," she counters. "Every fighter fights according to her strength. Mine...is strength." Zarya releases me with a hearty chuckle. "Yours is trickery, but your trickery won a war where my strength did not. Remember that. And the next time you are in Russia," she says, grinning, "I demand you come and see me so that we can celebrate together!"
"You have my word," I say, and we shake on it.
"Good. Now I have done what I came to do, and I must return home. There is much rebuilding to be done, and the omnium will be done refitting its children soon." She grins at my surprised expression. "We had a good talk. There will be distrust on both sides, but the omnics, too, are my comrades. My country has a chance to heal and you, Sombra, are responsible for that. Katya Volskaya would be dead if not for you. Now, she is working with the Siberian Omnium to rebuild Russia. Do not be surprised if a generation of little girls bear your name," she teases.
"You know it only means shadow," I half-ask.
Zarya laughs. "I know. I also know it is not your real name. I gave up my chance at fame and fortune to protect my people. You gave up far more."
"How..."
She winks. "I told you: it was a good talk. My omnium called your omnium and we all talked together. That is how I knew where to find you. So if you do not come and visit, I will have my babushka talk to your babushka, hah?"
"I will visit, I promise. But it may take some time. My Papi..."
"Is also invited," she says firmly.
"...is still learning how to behave in public," I finish dryly. "But we will visit. Can I offer you anything before you go?"
She thinks about it for a minute. "One of your guards was very rude. May I punch him? Just once?"
I open the door. "Who was it?"
"That one," she says, pointing to Lead Uniform - Peterson, Tia Ana said his name was.
"Just once," I say. "Please don't kill him."
Peterson goes pale as Zarya steps up, cracking her knuckles. "What..."
"Zaryanova is going to teach Peterson to be polite to guests," I announce over the secure channel. "Anyone shoots, they're next."
At my nod, Zarya takes one powerful, lunging step and drives her right fist into Peterson's gut with such force that I almost expect to see it burst from his back. He lets out a wheezing sound, doubles up, and falls over. Zarya straightens and nods in satisfaction.
"And that," she says firmly, "is how we hit like a girl in Russia."
There's a smattering of applause from the roof. Head high, Zarya walks down the path to where a taxi is waiting.
===
When I get back upstairs, everyone's clustered around a news screen where suited officials are discussing the presence of at least two former Overwatch agents in Tel Aviv and them having destroyed a god program. I sit next on the floor to Papi and drape one arm around him. The conversation drifts into the legality of crimes committed by a god program, who has the right or responsibility to destroy it, and whether or not Jack can be considered a hero for taking down something that doesn't have the legal status to be charged with a crime in the first place. Someone raises the question of trespassing, but it turns out the owners of the building voluntarily evacuated so that 'appropriate authorities' could address 'dangerous materials placed without authorization' and the suits are forced to conclude that when it comes to dealing with god programs, the people who ended the Omnic Crisis are without a doubt appropriate authorities.
Some noise is made over witnesses - organics, all of them - claiming they saw Talon's assassin Reaper. Half the suits are convinced he sold out in exchange for something, and the other half think he'd been a prisoner. Very serious faces proclaim how worrying it is that no one knows where he went. Jack and Reinhardt are apparently refusing to say anything about who helped them. Some speculation on if the organic witnesses really did see the Shrike, last known whereabouts around Cairo. More speculation about the augmented girl described as being frogmarched past, if she was a prisoner, everything because unlike the others, I'm a complete unknown. A fuss is made over the fact that no one saw me leave, although there's blurry footage - which they display - of Reaper and the Shrike getting into a van. The omnic who'd helped us is apparently under orders from above to not speak about the entire incident.
That segues into how no one knows who 'Sombra' is, but just about every omnic was a part of the incident and recognizes the name. Am I a human? Am I a fellow omnic? Am I some hitherto-unknown god program, am I an AI? Someone brings up the rumor that Overwatch had an AI. Someone else insists I'm a god program loaded into an artificial body the same as Abram was. A third person is adamant that I'm some omnic deity, and then turns that into me being a zealot following this hypothetical omnic deity when it's pointed out that I've got years of history hacking for omnic rights.
Finally, Ana turns the screen off. "What was the commotion downstairs?" she asks me.
"Zaryanova stopped by to thank me for ending the Second Omnic Crisis," I answer dryly. "I tried to tell her it wasn't just me, but she refused to take that as an answer."
Ana frowns. "How did she know where to find you?"
"She talked to the Siberian Omnium, who got my parent omnium on the line. Apparently it was a good enough talk that my parent omnium told her where to find me. By the way, Papi, we're invited to go visit Zarya sometime. No excuses. And she punched Peterson."
"I trust he deserved it," Ana says with a hint of warning.
"Zarya said he was rude and asked permission to do it. I said yes. She got applause for it, so I guess he did deserve it."
"Some day," Ana sighs, "he will learn. Let us hope that today was that day."
"Hey, shadow-sis," McCree says in a subdued voice. "You hear anything from Jack yet about when he's coming back?"
I shake my head. "He hasn't reached out yet."
"Would be a shame if he got back and everyone'd left. Feels like it's been forever since we were all together, and with him being dead'n all..." Jesse trails off.
"There's always Halloween," I point out. Reaper starts wagging. "Let everyone know we gonna have the most amazing Halloween party ever."
When I turn to look at him, McCree's grinning. "Halloween," he breathes. "Oh man, it's been years! I need to think of a costume. Quiet-sis, you need to think of a costume, too. Halloween. You in on this, Dad?"
Reaper growls, "What do you think?"
Everyone's smiling now, and the conversation turns to plans for decorations and costumes.
=
Jerome heads out that afternoon to fetch Reinhardt. The suits are letting him go because technically, he did nothing but stand guard and can't really answer any questions. When he gets back, everyone gathers together to hear his report, but he doesn't know much more than the rest of us. He saw Jack only briefly before they were separated for questioning. The idea of hitting the town for dinner and drinks is tossed around, but in the end, only Jesse goes with him.
Genji and Zenyatta make their goodbyes and slip out; with the false god dead, there are many opportunities they want to take advantage of, but they promise to keep in touch. Tracer goes with them, on her way back to London, and Angela leaves as well with the promise that she will come by in a few days to check on Widow. Ana excuses herself to the third floor, where Winston and Athena are now the only ones staying.
That's why, when Jack's call comes in, Reaper and I are the only ones who know. We go to bed early, because it will be somewhere past two in the morning when the ship comes back.
=
Jerome flies Jack back under cover of night. Reaper's curled up in his doggy bed, chewing on a shark spine, and I've just come out of the kitchen with a mug of hot coffee when he slips into the living room. He takes the mug with a nod of thanks and downs half of it in one gulp.
"Long day?" Reaper asks in a neutral tone.
Jack grimaces. "Long handful of days. I feel like I've been verbally dissected and then put back together again." He takes another gulp of coffee before bracing himself. "Gabe...can we talk?"
Reaper freezes for a long moment. "What about?" he asks warily.
"About us. About everything that happened that led to us both nearly getting killed. It's looking like Overwatch is going to get taken out of mothballs, but..." Jack stares into his mug before draining it and handing it back to me with a murmur of thanks. "I can't move forward, I can't focus on the future until I understand the past."
"Sombra needs to be there," Papi says immediately.
"Agreed."
Reaper stands up, hesitates, then re-forms into the hoodie configuration. "Not here. Sombra, find us a quiet corner."
I tap into the safehouse systems and nod. "Follow me."
In silence, we walk through the safehouse until we get to a first-floor lounge with bay windows overlooking the back yard. Jack stops behind a chair, both hands flexing on its back like he's about to strangle an imaginary occupant. Reaper sits on a small, ornate couch and I sit next to him, holding his hand reassuringly.
"Do you want to start?" Jack asks quietly.
The hand holding mine tightens. "You questioned the orders issued to my men," Reaper says carefully, keeping the words from becoming an accusation. "I assumed you were questioning my judgment. Trying to butt into my business. But Sombra proved to me that there were orders I didn't give so I'm assuming it's those that you were questioning."
Jack lets go of the chair to rub his temples. "God, I hope so. I knew you wouldn't hesitate to do things I don't like to think about doing. I didn't want to believe you'd really go that dark, but you wouldn't even listen..."
"I thought you were trying to take over."
"I think I partially was." Jack shakes his head. "I didn't handle it well. I got caught up in rank and politics and forgot everything I learned about talking to you. I was used to dancing around with diplomats and politicians, but that just makes you close up and lash out. I treated you like you were nothing more than your position, when I should have been talking to you as a friend."
Reaper growls, "I should have told you to come out and say it instead of making assumptions about your motives."
Jack smiles faintly. "You did tell me to come out and say it, but you added several profanities and flipped me the bird. So...Talon played us against each other?"
"No," Reaper sighs. "The asshole played me. I'm the one that fucked everything up, it's my fault."
"Hey," Jack says sharply. "Did you not just hear me taking responsibility for making things worse? There's more than enough blame to go around, Reyes. I should have seen something was wrong. I should have handled it differently. I didn't. It's on me," he finishes almost angrily.
"Bullshit it is, Morrison!" Reaper snarls, on his feet, both hands balled into fists.
"My ass, Reyes!" Jack comes around the chair to stand practically nose to nose with his old friend.
"Your ass could never hold a candle to mine," sneers Reaper
Jack's lip curls. "Is that so? Well, you know what?"
"What?"
"I'm fucking sorry, Gabe. I'm sorry, okay? Part of it was my fault, and I'm sorry!"
"Not as sorry as I am, Jack! And you know what? I forgive you!"
"Oh, yeah? Well, I forgive you!"
For a long moment they just stand there, fuming, like they're about to start punching. Then they hug fiercely, slapping each other's backs, and I think Uncle Jack might be crying.
"God damn I missed you, you son of a bitch!" he says angrily as they separate.
Reaper crosses his arms over the amused wisps that aren't there. "Hey! What did I tell you about talking about my mother?"
"That she's a bitch who deserves to burn in hell?"
"That's right."
Jack laughs. "So...are we good now?"
"I'm still going to be a pain in your ass," Reaper warns him.
"Wouldn't have it any other way, sir." It's almost snapped out, like a response to a military authority.
"...but I'm not going to kill you in the middle of the night and eat your liver."
"I will sleep soundly, secure in your reassurance."
"Are you sassing me, Morrison?"
Jack grins. "Yes, sir. But...speaking of sleep..."
"You're old, Jack," Reaper teases.
"Hey! You're just as old!"
"Not in dog years."
That makes Jack laugh again. "Okay, seriously, I need to sleep. Thanks for talking with me, Gabe. That's been bothering me for...a long time."
Reaper jerks in surprise and turns to look at me.
"It true, Papi. Let the man sleep, and we can talk."
"Fine. Go sleep, old man."
Chuckling, Jack leaves the room. Reaper watches him go, then comes back to sit on the couch with me.
"Talk," he growls as I snuggle up, and he hugs me to his chest.
"The time I came back with a poncho for you, I went to Dorado. Jack was poking around, and Los Muertos, they asked me to come shoo him away. He was following the same trail that led me to Talon. I gave him the information he was looking for, and he went away. But after that, I started taking a closer look at Soldier 76's trail. He suspected someone else had been involved in your fight with him, and he wanted to find out who."
Papi's silent for long enough that I'm starting to drift off when he says, "The asshole's dead."
"Si, Papi," I murmur sleepily.
"Morrison and McCree...I mostly only hated them because of the asshole."
"Si, Papi," I murmur again.
"But he's dead, so...who's left to hate?"
"Who says you gotta hate anyone?"
A long pause.
"You're falling asleep, hija. Let's get you to bed."
I grumble halfheartedly. "Does that mean I have to move?"
"No," he answers quietly. "I'll carry you."
Part of me wants to protest that I wasn't serious, but the rest of me is five years old and I realize that he's doing this as much for himself as he is for me, so I drape my arms around his neck and let him carry me to bed.
===
There's a ruckus in the kitchen when I finally emerge from my bedroom with Reaper-dog at my side. Jesse's flipping pancakes while Jack and Ana nurse coffee and tea respectively and Winston spreads peanut butter on toast.
"Those better not be buckwheat," Reaper growls teasingly.
McCree smirks at him. "Nope. Banana."
"You've ruined my breakfast and I haven't even had it yet," Papi says in Winston's direction.
"I've done no such thing," Winston retorts loftily. "If anything, I have improved it."
"You don't have to eat it...Dad." One cowboy-booted foot kicks the fridge gently. "You've got plenty of that bottled stuff."
Reaper snorts. "Did I say I wouldn't? I'm giving you shit, boy, haven't you figured that out yet?"
"Ah, family life," Jack says to Ana. "It's like we have four kids, and they're all being relatively well-behaved."
Ana swallows a laugh. "This is true. They're not hitting each other."
"I could change that," Reaper offers.
"Papi!"
He flinches, but I'm grinning and he's wagging so we know neither of us is serious. Regardless, McCree mock-threatens us with a spatula and we retreat to the living room where, after a minute, Winston joins us to sit by the coffee table with his plate of peanut butter toast.
"So the god program is dead," Winston says quietly. "A foe I did not even know existed until this last month. I am relieved, of course, but aside from that...I don't know how I feel about this development."
Reaper leans into my petting. "He hated you."
Winston looks startled at that. "Me?"
"Probably you because he didn't know about Athena," I interject. "But yeah."
"I saw the video," he says softly, glancing guiltily at Reaper. "It's hard to be angry at you, knowing how much of someone else's hate you were forced to swallow. I'm afraid that if you want to discuss our grievances, I would not be an...enthusiastic...participant."
I hug Papi as he whines, and he shoves his nose into my hair for a long minute.
"That asshole wanted me to do his dirty work and kill you. I'm inclined to let bygones be bygones just to spite him."
"Good, Papi, good," I murmur. "Hate his memory. Ruin everything he tried to do. Piss on his grave."
"I would," he murmurs back, "but someone coded this body to not do that." Reaper extricates his face from my hair, wagging. "Enough of this. Where's that trash cowboy with my breakfast?"
"You don't have to eat it," McCree says darkly as he emerges with two plates in his hands.
Reaper sits and looks mournfully up at him. "But I want to."
The cowboy stops dead with a torn expression. Reaper wags a few times. Jesse sighs and puts both plates on the low table, one in front of Reaper and the other across from him, then sits and starts cutting the pancakes on his plate.
"You cut them up for me," Papi says in gratified surprise.
"Well, yeah. Easier for you to eat, right?"
Reaper doesn't respond, too busy eating banana pancakes with butter and maple syrup. When the plate is clean, though, he crawls under the table to the other side, where he lays down with his head on Jesse's leg. Startled but pleased, McCree starts petting him.
"Hey, quiet-sis," he says as Widow emerges from her room, "there's banana pancakes on the stove for you if you want."
Widow smiles. "Merci, Jesse."
Once she's gone into the kitchen, Reaper says quietly, "You don't have to emphasize Dad unless you're actually mocking me. I won't object if you just say it."
McCree freezes. "You really mean that, Gabe? Y-you don't mind that I..."
"Well, I didn't think I was that great of a father-figure, but apparently I raised one hell of a daughter without even meeting her, so if you're sure you want to claim me as yours...well, that's your choice and I won't argue with it."
"Dad," Jesse breathes, and then Reaper's sitting up and getting hugged around the neck and Winston looks sad and wistful to have witnessed this moment while I'm just grinning because I know how hard that was for Papi.
It takes a minute before they're both calm again, but Jesse's beaming and Reaper's wagging.
"There's somethin' I wanna say," he says slowly, fingers working the fur on Reaper's neck. "I've wanted to tell you for a while, but I didn't want you to get all angry at yourself."
The wagging stops. Jesse takes a deep breath, and I nod encouragingly at him.
"When I left...it wasn't because I didn't care or anything like that. I cared. I cared a lot. I could see that somethin' was going on, somethin' wasn't right. I tried to bring it up..."
"And I wouldn't listen," Reaper says quietly, laying his head on Jesse's leg. "You left because of me."
The cowboy leaves his right hand on Papi's head in silent reassurance. "I thought if I left, you'd be pissed enough to come after me and demand to know why."
"But I didn't." The words are whispered and raw. "It hurt. I let you walk away." Reaper whines before continuing, "I let you think I didn't care, when the opposite was true."
"So...you forgive me? For walking away?" Poor Jesse, he looks terrified.
"Only if you forgive me for driving you away," Reaper growls.
McCree gets a stubborn look on his face. "You didn't."
"I did."
"Alright," he drawls, "there's only one way to settle this. You. Me. Tug of war. Outside. Now."
Despite everything, Reaper's wagging. "Sombra?" he asks, turning to me. "I promise I won't maim or kill him."
I smile at them both. "Okay, go for it. Have fun."
Papi crawls back under the table and runs out of the room, only to trot right back through with the cloth rope held in his mouth. McCree tosses us both a casual salute, and they both leave the wing.
Winston looks like he's going to wear that startled expression for the rest of his life. "Did they just apologize without actually apologizing?"
"Papi's not good with apologizing. You gotta read between the lines."
Jack comes out of the kitchen. "Reaper- Gabriel apologized for something? In a manner of speaking?"
Ana and Widow follow him out, and I move from floor to couch in silent cuddlpile invitation.
"Uh...I believe he and Jesse both apologized for Jesse's departure from Blackwatch," Winston says uncertainly.
Three eyebrows raise in surprise. Jack and Ana look at each other. Widow sits next to me and rests her head on my shoulder.
"I think we got Gabe back from the dead asshole," Jack says in astonishment. "He and I forgave each other last night, and he said it first."
Winston grins. "You got in pretty late, are you sure you didn't just dream it?"
"No," I say, "it happened. I saw it. You get him angry on purpose, Uncle Jack?"
He flushes slightly. "You noticed?" I give him an are you shitting me look and he laughs. "Yes, I did it on purpose. We ended a lot of fights that way in the military."
"Uh..." Winston coughs. "If I may...um...if we could we address the eight-hundred-pound metaphoric gorilla in the room...any news on if the Petras Act is going to be lifted?"
Jack looks at me. "Sombra, do you have any shell companies?"
"You have to ask?"
"Just making sure," he says, hands raised in mock-surrender. "The U.N. is going to open bids for cleaning up and repairing the Overwatch HQ site. I personally would feel most comfortable if you were the one secretly in charge of that."
Beside him, Ana nods. "I share his sentiment on this subject."
Winston thinks about it for a long minute before he looks at me and nods as well. "I know it sounds petty of me, but I have put my faith in the governments of the world and suffered for my naivete. You have spent your life attempting to better the world, albeit in different ways than I, so I think perhaps this time...well, given all Talon tried to do...Overwatch would be better off rebuilding on a foundation we know is secure."
"And here I thought I was going to be bored, now that the asshole's dead." I grin and spread my hands. "Well...I do have some friends."
"I'm abducting your Papi," he informs me casually.
Reaper growls. "Like hell you are."
"Your other daughter heard you turn into a dog, Dad, and she wants to cuddle you." The cowboy smirks. "So you, me, her, and Ana are all gonna go sit and talk."
"I'm not leaving Sombra alone," Reaper starts, but breaks off as Genji and Zenyatta join us.
"I would welcome the opportunity to keep your daughter company," Zenyatta says smoothly. "I believe you are familiar with my student?"
Genji and Reaper stare at each other in bizarrely tense silence. I can see that Papi wants to be angry and suspicious, but the pseudo-linksignal doesn't let him. My linkbrother is also a bit apprehensive in the not-face of the man he used to know, but he trusts me and knows that Reaper trusts me, and he's choosing to have faith that something of Commander Reyes exists beneath the mask.
"Yes," Reaper says finally. "Sombra?"
"We just gonna sit and bond, Papi," I assure him. "My room okay?"
Two nods, and Reaper relaxes. "Fine. Take care of her," he tells the other two.
"We were in the linkweb," Genji says quietly. "It was...overwhelming. A smaller linkweb will help settle her. She needs calm after that chaotic ocean."
Reaper nods, and Jesse herds him off for one type of family bonding while I leave with Zenyatta and my linkbrother for another type.
=
After a few hours of linkweb bonding and a new linkbrother, I feel much better about the experience I survived. Genji and Zenyatta excuse themselves to catch up with Ana, and almost at the same time, Jesse leads Widow and Papi-dog into my room with a stack of gaming pads.
"Quiet-sis wants to play Diablo 3 with you," he drawls, pleased with himself. "I've been showing her the ropes, but she wants to try a witch doctor and I can't figure that class out to save my life. How do you do that?"
"I just that good," I tease as I take my pad. "What class you been playing?" I ask Widow as we all get situated on the bed.
"Monk," she says quietly. "Ana showed me. Jesse showed me demon hunter."
Reaper hmphs. "And then I showed her how to do it right."
"I can play any way I want," Jesse protests. "Besides, you won't tell me how you do it anyway."
"Skill," Reaper answers, amused wisps curling up from his arms.
Sandwiched between my pseudo-linksister and my trash cowboy brother, with Papi on Widow's other side, I grin. "Alright, amiga. Roll a witch doctor and join my game. I show you what to do while Papi and Jesse run bounties for us."
"Thanks, shadow-sis," the cowboy says dryly.
"Less Q Q more pew pew, McCree." Reaper teleports to a different act entirely. "Try to finish one or two before I get this act clear."
"Fine, Dad." While I'm showing Widow what skills my witch doctor uses, he leans over and whispers, "What's cue cue mean?"
"I think he telling you to stop complaining, but don't ask why it means that because amigo, I got no idea."
Reaper just laughs.
=
After McCree and Widow leave to go sleep in their respective beds, Reaper puts the pads away while I change into the pajamas he gave me. He comes back with the tail end of a bottle of LRF, which he pours into his water dish and then switches to doberman to drink. For several minutes I just sit on the floor next to him, petting and brushing, and he sprawls half across my lap to soak up the attention.
"I should have told you I backed myself up," I say quietly.
He twitches one ear but otherwise doesn't move. Then he sighs. "I should have told you I would shoot to kill."
"I don't blame you for that, Papi."
"And I don't blame you. We don't exactly talk about your body."
But you won't, he said, and I feel guilty. "I had to blend in."
"I know, Alé. I'm just glad that if I'd had to shoot you, you would still be okay."
I pull him up to hug his neck. "I'm glad you would have shot me if my plan didn't work."
"You scared the crap out of me, hija."
"I sorry, Papi."
He lays his head on my shoulder and whispers, "I should have told you about the deal," into my hair.
"Was that why you felt bad enough to sit in the closet?" I ask quietly.
It's a long, trembling minute before he whines and says, "Yes."
I just hug him. After a few minutes of silent reassurance, he pulls away and we climb into bed.
"My parent omnium likes you," I tell him as we settle down. "You got invited to come visit the next time I go home."
Reaper laughs quietly. "I'm not sure how I should feel about that. Your omnium does know who I was, right?"
"Si, I told it that you used to be Gabriel Reyes, but now you are my father."
Beside me, his doggy body goes very still. Then he starts trembling, and sticks his head half under my pillow. "What if I want to be Gabriel Reyes again?"
I scratch behind his ears. "Then I make it happen."
"How? My body..."
"Trust me, Papi. If I can't find a way, I will make a way."
The trembling stops. A few breaths later, he laughs softly. "Alright, hija. You got me this far. I trust you."
Sleep is warm and dark.
=
I wake up to a message from my friend Katya Volskaya. She's politely informing me that she's going public with her own blackmail information and that as such, our little agreement is null and void. That's fair enough; with the current turn of events, having allied with free omnics to defend against controlled omnics isn't a political death sentence. But she also mentions someone that wanted to meet with me personally who is already on their way.
Okay. How the fuck does she know where I am?
Jesse's beaten us to the kitchen and has breakfast more than ready. Scrambled eggs with cheese, country-fried potatoes, bacon, sausage, and toast are all piled in pans and plates, and he and Widow are already eating. Him, heartily; her, hesitantly. Reaper's wagging as he climbs onto a chair and discovers a plate of coffee already in front of him.
"Quiet-sis helped," Jesse says as I load a plate for Papi. "You were looking a little frazzled around the edges last night, even after bonding with Genji 'n Zenyatta. Figured I could make breakfast for once."
"You did good, cowboy," Reaper says in something resembling approval.
McCree flushes and ducks his head. "Aw. Thanks, Dad."
Reaper doesn't say anything, but he wags just a little harder.
Over Ana's secure channel, I can hear her people reporting that someone large and angry is demanding to be let in. That's probably my visitor. I patch myself into the channel and tell them I'll handle it.
"Sombra?" Reaper asks warily.
I scratch behind his ears. "If I'm right, friend of Volskaya. I'll be fine."
"You better be," he growls.
As I leave the wing and head for the first floor, I can hear Ana's people reassuring someone that they'll be let in shortly. In the background, someone with a Russian accent declares their patience is thin. I'm rattling down the central stairs when whoever-it-is threatens to break the door down.
"Open the door," I say into Ana's channel.
"But-"
"It's my safehouse, amigo. Open. The. Door."
The door opens just as I reach the bottom, and a figure that could probably rival Reinhardt is silhouetted in the doorframe. They take two steps inside and the door closes and hoooooly shit that's Zaryanova. I charge an EMP just in case.
"I am Sombra," I start, but she cuts me off.
"I know who you are," she declares ominously, arms crossed over her chest. Then she lunges and wraps arms thicker than Papi's thighs around me, pinning mine, and lifts me off the ground with the force of her...hug? "You are the one who ended the war threatening my people," she says in the sternest form of gratitude I've ever heard. "Every omnic on the battlefield stopped dead, all at once. Then, there was a great shout. 'The false god is dead,' they cried. 'Sombra has saved us from the false god.' Then they all turned and retreated. Every single omnic to come out of the Siberian Omnium turned around and went back to the omnium, and my people are safe."
With that, she sets me back on the floor and I re-absorb the charged EMP. "I did not act alone," I tell her. "Omnics from all over the world all had an equal part in slaying the false god that forced the omnium to attack your people." The memory of that incredible linkweb rises up, like the Siberian Omnium's rage, and makes me tremble. "If any voice in that roar was louder than another, it was the voice of the omnium itself. I heard its rage. It led the charge, not me."
"No," she says firmly, arms crossed again. "I followed the retreating omnics into the omnium. I spoke with it, and with Volskaya's omnic allies. You orchestrated the attack on the false god. You drew him out. Do not dismiss your own bravery simply because you did not act alone. You acted first, and that is why you are honored. That is why I have come to thank you in person. You are the one responsible for ending the Second Omnic Crisis."
And then she hugs me again, not as crushingly as the first time but still impressively.
"Thank you," I tell her in a voice that shakes only a little.
"Thank you," she counters. "Every fighter fights according to her strength. Mine...is strength." Zarya releases me with a hearty chuckle. "Yours is trickery, but your trickery won a war where my strength did not. Remember that. And the next time you are in Russia," she says, grinning, "I demand you come and see me so that we can celebrate together!"
"You have my word," I say, and we shake on it.
"Good. Now I have done what I came to do, and I must return home. There is much rebuilding to be done, and the omnium will be done refitting its children soon." She grins at my surprised expression. "We had a good talk. There will be distrust on both sides, but the omnics, too, are my comrades. My country has a chance to heal and you, Sombra, are responsible for that. Katya Volskaya would be dead if not for you. Now, she is working with the Siberian Omnium to rebuild Russia. Do not be surprised if a generation of little girls bear your name," she teases.
"You know it only means shadow," I half-ask.
Zarya laughs. "I know. I also know it is not your real name. I gave up my chance at fame and fortune to protect my people. You gave up far more."
"How..."
She winks. "I told you: it was a good talk. My omnium called your omnium and we all talked together. That is how I knew where to find you. So if you do not come and visit, I will have my babushka talk to your babushka, hah?"
"I will visit, I promise. But it may take some time. My Papi..."
"Is also invited," she says firmly.
"...is still learning how to behave in public," I finish dryly. "But we will visit. Can I offer you anything before you go?"
She thinks about it for a minute. "One of your guards was very rude. May I punch him? Just once?"
I open the door. "Who was it?"
"That one," she says, pointing to Lead Uniform - Peterson, Tia Ana said his name was.
"Just once," I say. "Please don't kill him."
Peterson goes pale as Zarya steps up, cracking her knuckles. "What..."
"Zaryanova is going to teach Peterson to be polite to guests," I announce over the secure channel. "Anyone shoots, they're next."
At my nod, Zarya takes one powerful, lunging step and drives her right fist into Peterson's gut with such force that I almost expect to see it burst from his back. He lets out a wheezing sound, doubles up, and falls over. Zarya straightens and nods in satisfaction.
"And that," she says firmly, "is how we hit like a girl in Russia."
There's a smattering of applause from the roof. Head high, Zarya walks down the path to where a taxi is waiting.
===
When I get back upstairs, everyone's clustered around a news screen where suited officials are discussing the presence of at least two former Overwatch agents in Tel Aviv and them having destroyed a god program. I sit next on the floor to Papi and drape one arm around him. The conversation drifts into the legality of crimes committed by a god program, who has the right or responsibility to destroy it, and whether or not Jack can be considered a hero for taking down something that doesn't have the legal status to be charged with a crime in the first place. Someone raises the question of trespassing, but it turns out the owners of the building voluntarily evacuated so that 'appropriate authorities' could address 'dangerous materials placed without authorization' and the suits are forced to conclude that when it comes to dealing with god programs, the people who ended the Omnic Crisis are without a doubt appropriate authorities.
Some noise is made over witnesses - organics, all of them - claiming they saw Talon's assassin Reaper. Half the suits are convinced he sold out in exchange for something, and the other half think he'd been a prisoner. Very serious faces proclaim how worrying it is that no one knows where he went. Jack and Reinhardt are apparently refusing to say anything about who helped them. Some speculation on if the organic witnesses really did see the Shrike, last known whereabouts around Cairo. More speculation about the augmented girl described as being frogmarched past, if she was a prisoner, everything because unlike the others, I'm a complete unknown. A fuss is made over the fact that no one saw me leave, although there's blurry footage - which they display - of Reaper and the Shrike getting into a van. The omnic who'd helped us is apparently under orders from above to not speak about the entire incident.
That segues into how no one knows who 'Sombra' is, but just about every omnic was a part of the incident and recognizes the name. Am I a human? Am I a fellow omnic? Am I some hitherto-unknown god program, am I an AI? Someone brings up the rumor that Overwatch had an AI. Someone else insists I'm a god program loaded into an artificial body the same as Abram was. A third person is adamant that I'm some omnic deity, and then turns that into me being a zealot following this hypothetical omnic deity when it's pointed out that I've got years of history hacking for omnic rights.
Finally, Ana turns the screen off. "What was the commotion downstairs?" she asks me.
"Zaryanova stopped by to thank me for ending the Second Omnic Crisis," I answer dryly. "I tried to tell her it wasn't just me, but she refused to take that as an answer."
Ana frowns. "How did she know where to find you?"
"She talked to the Siberian Omnium, who got my parent omnium on the line. Apparently it was a good enough talk that my parent omnium told her where to find me. By the way, Papi, we're invited to go visit Zarya sometime. No excuses. And she punched Peterson."
"I trust he deserved it," Ana says with a hint of warning.
"Zarya said he was rude and asked permission to do it. I said yes. She got applause for it, so I guess he did deserve it."
"Some day," Ana sighs, "he will learn. Let us hope that today was that day."
"Hey, shadow-sis," McCree says in a subdued voice. "You hear anything from Jack yet about when he's coming back?"
I shake my head. "He hasn't reached out yet."
"Would be a shame if he got back and everyone'd left. Feels like it's been forever since we were all together, and with him being dead'n all..." Jesse trails off.
"There's always Halloween," I point out. Reaper starts wagging. "Let everyone know we gonna have the most amazing Halloween party ever."
When I turn to look at him, McCree's grinning. "Halloween," he breathes. "Oh man, it's been years! I need to think of a costume. Quiet-sis, you need to think of a costume, too. Halloween. You in on this, Dad?"
Reaper growls, "What do you think?"
Everyone's smiling now, and the conversation turns to plans for decorations and costumes.
=
Jerome heads out that afternoon to fetch Reinhardt. The suits are letting him go because technically, he did nothing but stand guard and can't really answer any questions. When he gets back, everyone gathers together to hear his report, but he doesn't know much more than the rest of us. He saw Jack only briefly before they were separated for questioning. The idea of hitting the town for dinner and drinks is tossed around, but in the end, only Jesse goes with him.
Genji and Zenyatta make their goodbyes and slip out; with the false god dead, there are many opportunities they want to take advantage of, but they promise to keep in touch. Tracer goes with them, on her way back to London, and Angela leaves as well with the promise that she will come by in a few days to check on Widow. Ana excuses herself to the third floor, where Winston and Athena are now the only ones staying.
That's why, when Jack's call comes in, Reaper and I are the only ones who know. We go to bed early, because it will be somewhere past two in the morning when the ship comes back.
=
Jerome flies Jack back under cover of night. Reaper's curled up in his doggy bed, chewing on a shark spine, and I've just come out of the kitchen with a mug of hot coffee when he slips into the living room. He takes the mug with a nod of thanks and downs half of it in one gulp.
"Long day?" Reaper asks in a neutral tone.
Jack grimaces. "Long handful of days. I feel like I've been verbally dissected and then put back together again." He takes another gulp of coffee before bracing himself. "Gabe...can we talk?"
Reaper freezes for a long moment. "What about?" he asks warily.
"About us. About everything that happened that led to us both nearly getting killed. It's looking like Overwatch is going to get taken out of mothballs, but..." Jack stares into his mug before draining it and handing it back to me with a murmur of thanks. "I can't move forward, I can't focus on the future until I understand the past."
"Sombra needs to be there," Papi says immediately.
"Agreed."
Reaper stands up, hesitates, then re-forms into the hoodie configuration. "Not here. Sombra, find us a quiet corner."
I tap into the safehouse systems and nod. "Follow me."
In silence, we walk through the safehouse until we get to a first-floor lounge with bay windows overlooking the back yard. Jack stops behind a chair, both hands flexing on its back like he's about to strangle an imaginary occupant. Reaper sits on a small, ornate couch and I sit next to him, holding his hand reassuringly.
"Do you want to start?" Jack asks quietly.
The hand holding mine tightens. "You questioned the orders issued to my men," Reaper says carefully, keeping the words from becoming an accusation. "I assumed you were questioning my judgment. Trying to butt into my business. But Sombra proved to me that there were orders I didn't give so I'm assuming it's those that you were questioning."
Jack lets go of the chair to rub his temples. "God, I hope so. I knew you wouldn't hesitate to do things I don't like to think about doing. I didn't want to believe you'd really go that dark, but you wouldn't even listen..."
"I thought you were trying to take over."
"I think I partially was." Jack shakes his head. "I didn't handle it well. I got caught up in rank and politics and forgot everything I learned about talking to you. I was used to dancing around with diplomats and politicians, but that just makes you close up and lash out. I treated you like you were nothing more than your position, when I should have been talking to you as a friend."
Reaper growls, "I should have told you to come out and say it instead of making assumptions about your motives."
Jack smiles faintly. "You did tell me to come out and say it, but you added several profanities and flipped me the bird. So...Talon played us against each other?"
"No," Reaper sighs. "The asshole played me. I'm the one that fucked everything up, it's my fault."
"Hey," Jack says sharply. "Did you not just hear me taking responsibility for making things worse? There's more than enough blame to go around, Reyes. I should have seen something was wrong. I should have handled it differently. I didn't. It's on me," he finishes almost angrily.
"Bullshit it is, Morrison!" Reaper snarls, on his feet, both hands balled into fists.
"My ass, Reyes!" Jack comes around the chair to stand practically nose to nose with his old friend.
"Your ass could never hold a candle to mine," sneers Reaper
Jack's lip curls. "Is that so? Well, you know what?"
"What?"
"I'm fucking sorry, Gabe. I'm sorry, okay? Part of it was my fault, and I'm sorry!"
"Not as sorry as I am, Jack! And you know what? I forgive you!"
"Oh, yeah? Well, I forgive you!"
For a long moment they just stand there, fuming, like they're about to start punching. Then they hug fiercely, slapping each other's backs, and I think Uncle Jack might be crying.
"God damn I missed you, you son of a bitch!" he says angrily as they separate.
Reaper crosses his arms over the amused wisps that aren't there. "Hey! What did I tell you about talking about my mother?"
"That she's a bitch who deserves to burn in hell?"
"That's right."
Jack laughs. "So...are we good now?"
"I'm still going to be a pain in your ass," Reaper warns him.
"Wouldn't have it any other way, sir." It's almost snapped out, like a response to a military authority.
"...but I'm not going to kill you in the middle of the night and eat your liver."
"I will sleep soundly, secure in your reassurance."
"Are you sassing me, Morrison?"
Jack grins. "Yes, sir. But...speaking of sleep..."
"You're old, Jack," Reaper teases.
"Hey! You're just as old!"
"Not in dog years."
That makes Jack laugh again. "Okay, seriously, I need to sleep. Thanks for talking with me, Gabe. That's been bothering me for...a long time."
Reaper jerks in surprise and turns to look at me.
"It true, Papi. Let the man sleep, and we can talk."
"Fine. Go sleep, old man."
Chuckling, Jack leaves the room. Reaper watches him go, then comes back to sit on the couch with me.
"Talk," he growls as I snuggle up, and he hugs me to his chest.
"The time I came back with a poncho for you, I went to Dorado. Jack was poking around, and Los Muertos, they asked me to come shoo him away. He was following the same trail that led me to Talon. I gave him the information he was looking for, and he went away. But after that, I started taking a closer look at Soldier 76's trail. He suspected someone else had been involved in your fight with him, and he wanted to find out who."
Papi's silent for long enough that I'm starting to drift off when he says, "The asshole's dead."
"Si, Papi," I murmur sleepily.
"Morrison and McCree...I mostly only hated them because of the asshole."
"Si, Papi," I murmur again.
"But he's dead, so...who's left to hate?"
"Who says you gotta hate anyone?"
A long pause.
"You're falling asleep, hija. Let's get you to bed."
I grumble halfheartedly. "Does that mean I have to move?"
"No," he answers quietly. "I'll carry you."
Part of me wants to protest that I wasn't serious, but the rest of me is five years old and I realize that he's doing this as much for himself as he is for me, so I drape my arms around his neck and let him carry me to bed.
===
There's a ruckus in the kitchen when I finally emerge from my bedroom with Reaper-dog at my side. Jesse's flipping pancakes while Jack and Ana nurse coffee and tea respectively and Winston spreads peanut butter on toast.
"Those better not be buckwheat," Reaper growls teasingly.
McCree smirks at him. "Nope. Banana."
"You've ruined my breakfast and I haven't even had it yet," Papi says in Winston's direction.
"I've done no such thing," Winston retorts loftily. "If anything, I have improved it."
"You don't have to eat it...Dad." One cowboy-booted foot kicks the fridge gently. "You've got plenty of that bottled stuff."
Reaper snorts. "Did I say I wouldn't? I'm giving you shit, boy, haven't you figured that out yet?"
"Ah, family life," Jack says to Ana. "It's like we have four kids, and they're all being relatively well-behaved."
Ana swallows a laugh. "This is true. They're not hitting each other."
"I could change that," Reaper offers.
"Papi!"
He flinches, but I'm grinning and he's wagging so we know neither of us is serious. Regardless, McCree mock-threatens us with a spatula and we retreat to the living room where, after a minute, Winston joins us to sit by the coffee table with his plate of peanut butter toast.
"So the god program is dead," Winston says quietly. "A foe I did not even know existed until this last month. I am relieved, of course, but aside from that...I don't know how I feel about this development."
Reaper leans into my petting. "He hated you."
Winston looks startled at that. "Me?"
"Probably you because he didn't know about Athena," I interject. "But yeah."
"I saw the video," he says softly, glancing guiltily at Reaper. "It's hard to be angry at you, knowing how much of someone else's hate you were forced to swallow. I'm afraid that if you want to discuss our grievances, I would not be an...enthusiastic...participant."
I hug Papi as he whines, and he shoves his nose into my hair for a long minute.
"That asshole wanted me to do his dirty work and kill you. I'm inclined to let bygones be bygones just to spite him."
"Good, Papi, good," I murmur. "Hate his memory. Ruin everything he tried to do. Piss on his grave."
"I would," he murmurs back, "but someone coded this body to not do that." Reaper extricates his face from my hair, wagging. "Enough of this. Where's that trash cowboy with my breakfast?"
"You don't have to eat it," McCree says darkly as he emerges with two plates in his hands.
Reaper sits and looks mournfully up at him. "But I want to."
The cowboy stops dead with a torn expression. Reaper wags a few times. Jesse sighs and puts both plates on the low table, one in front of Reaper and the other across from him, then sits and starts cutting the pancakes on his plate.
"You cut them up for me," Papi says in gratified surprise.
"Well, yeah. Easier for you to eat, right?"
Reaper doesn't respond, too busy eating banana pancakes with butter and maple syrup. When the plate is clean, though, he crawls under the table to the other side, where he lays down with his head on Jesse's leg. Startled but pleased, McCree starts petting him.
"Hey, quiet-sis," he says as Widow emerges from her room, "there's banana pancakes on the stove for you if you want."
Widow smiles. "Merci, Jesse."
Once she's gone into the kitchen, Reaper says quietly, "You don't have to emphasize Dad unless you're actually mocking me. I won't object if you just say it."
McCree freezes. "You really mean that, Gabe? Y-you don't mind that I..."
"Well, I didn't think I was that great of a father-figure, but apparently I raised one hell of a daughter without even meeting her, so if you're sure you want to claim me as yours...well, that's your choice and I won't argue with it."
"Dad," Jesse breathes, and then Reaper's sitting up and getting hugged around the neck and Winston looks sad and wistful to have witnessed this moment while I'm just grinning because I know how hard that was for Papi.
It takes a minute before they're both calm again, but Jesse's beaming and Reaper's wagging.
"There's somethin' I wanna say," he says slowly, fingers working the fur on Reaper's neck. "I've wanted to tell you for a while, but I didn't want you to get all angry at yourself."
The wagging stops. Jesse takes a deep breath, and I nod encouragingly at him.
"When I left...it wasn't because I didn't care or anything like that. I cared. I cared a lot. I could see that somethin' was going on, somethin' wasn't right. I tried to bring it up..."
"And I wouldn't listen," Reaper says quietly, laying his head on Jesse's leg. "You left because of me."
The cowboy leaves his right hand on Papi's head in silent reassurance. "I thought if I left, you'd be pissed enough to come after me and demand to know why."
"But I didn't." The words are whispered and raw. "It hurt. I let you walk away." Reaper whines before continuing, "I let you think I didn't care, when the opposite was true."
"So...you forgive me? For walking away?" Poor Jesse, he looks terrified.
"Only if you forgive me for driving you away," Reaper growls.
McCree gets a stubborn look on his face. "You didn't."
"I did."
"Alright," he drawls, "there's only one way to settle this. You. Me. Tug of war. Outside. Now."
Despite everything, Reaper's wagging. "Sombra?" he asks, turning to me. "I promise I won't maim or kill him."
I smile at them both. "Okay, go for it. Have fun."
Papi crawls back under the table and runs out of the room, only to trot right back through with the cloth rope held in his mouth. McCree tosses us both a casual salute, and they both leave the wing.
Winston looks like he's going to wear that startled expression for the rest of his life. "Did they just apologize without actually apologizing?"
"Papi's not good with apologizing. You gotta read between the lines."
Jack comes out of the kitchen. "Reaper- Gabriel apologized for something? In a manner of speaking?"
Ana and Widow follow him out, and I move from floor to couch in silent cuddlpile invitation.
"Uh...I believe he and Jesse both apologized for Jesse's departure from Blackwatch," Winston says uncertainly.
Three eyebrows raise in surprise. Jack and Ana look at each other. Widow sits next to me and rests her head on my shoulder.
"I think we got Gabe back from the dead asshole," Jack says in astonishment. "He and I forgave each other last night, and he said it first."
Winston grins. "You got in pretty late, are you sure you didn't just dream it?"
"No," I say, "it happened. I saw it. You get him angry on purpose, Uncle Jack?"
He flushes slightly. "You noticed?" I give him an are you shitting me look and he laughs. "Yes, I did it on purpose. We ended a lot of fights that way in the military."
"Uh..." Winston coughs. "If I may...um...if we could we address the eight-hundred-pound metaphoric gorilla in the room...any news on if the Petras Act is going to be lifted?"
Jack looks at me. "Sombra, do you have any shell companies?"
"You have to ask?"
"Just making sure," he says, hands raised in mock-surrender. "The U.N. is going to open bids for cleaning up and repairing the Overwatch HQ site. I personally would feel most comfortable if you were the one secretly in charge of that."
Beside him, Ana nods. "I share his sentiment on this subject."
Winston thinks about it for a long minute before he looks at me and nods as well. "I know it sounds petty of me, but I have put my faith in the governments of the world and suffered for my naivete. You have spent your life attempting to better the world, albeit in different ways than I, so I think perhaps this time...well, given all Talon tried to do...Overwatch would be better off rebuilding on a foundation we know is secure."
"And here I thought I was going to be bored, now that the asshole's dead." I grin and spread my hands. "Well...I do have some friends."