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He's warm, which is good, because the last thing he remembers is being cold, like someone was plunging him into a bathtub full of ice water--which seems appropriate, because he remembers feeling like he was underwater, too, everything slow and muted and finally dark.
It starts to come back to him as he registers his surroundings. He and Ana have been tackling missions together, sabotaging Talon operations when they find them. This particular endeavor went pear-shaped, he thinks, because otherwise why else would he be here, lying prone with the distinct sensation that someone took something very large and heavy to his skull?
When he feels a little more conscious, he takes stock of his surroundings. The nearby is probably why he feels warm, and he's been laid out and made as comfortable as possible, given the fact that they're basically camping out in the middle of the wilderness. He registers a few spent yellow canisters, and Ana sitting nearby.]
Ah--
[When he tries to sit up, the dull ache becomes a sharp lance in his side, reminding him that yes, he took a bullet, and he doesn't heal like he used to, even with assistance from biotic technology. An involuntary curse escapes him when he tries again and realizes that he is not going to be righting himself anytime soon. He cranes his neck instead, trying to get Ana in his field of vision.]
How many times is this now?
[Because he's certainly lost count of every instance she's saved his life, but Ana most definitely keeps track.]
[ the first thing ana thinks of "more than a thousand."
it's the sound of pain the draws the captain's attention away from her pink and white teacup partially filled with warm koshary tea. there he is, the man she bandages and breaks one of her own bullets to patch him up for, she supposes, the thousand time before angela cures him completely back at hq. it's not an unfamiliar sight, and even during her absence from the world she's still used to it.
ana amari would do it all over again.
with a raise of her tea cup, scarred like its owner, ] Would you believe I've lost count?
[ to her, that should indicate exactly how many times it's been.
the saucer rests on the ground as her other hand pulls out another dart from her open pouch, the miracle drug inside golden and ready to repair the broken and torn. just in case. a small dose works like charm, painkiller in liquid form. still, ana believes in learning from the pain. that is why she doesn't use it on jack just yet. ]
You can buy me some more tea the next time we're buying supplies. I'm running low on it, Jack.
[ jack, because they're alone and not being watched. jack, because they're still friends even after death.
now, on a more important note, twirling the modified needle in her hand: ]
[He lets his head fall back and he laughs, because if Ana has lost count, then it really has been way too many times. But that's something they both know, to the point where the question was more rhetorical than anything.]
I'd believe it.
[Makes him wonder how he even managed the solo vigilante thing for so long without Ana watching his back. This is a good reminder that he almost didn't. He tries to sit up again, wincing as he does, but managing it better on the second try. It still takes him a moment to adjust, but he eyes the dart the whole time.]
Doing okay.
[He'll heal--much faster than a normal human, but not quite as quickly as he would if he were twenty-five. Jack has become acutely aware of that in the last few years. He just can't shrug off injury like he used to, and he's pretty sure Ana has picked up on that.]
[ oh, jack. a thumb taps against the hard glass casing of the medication, not missing a word as she observes the old soldier's movements. ana remembers the past when they were still young, saving the world and ripping apart aggressive omnics by hand — with her, it's with her bare hands when the rifle is away — and without the need of wraps and strong drugs.
shrike wonders about the life of soldier: 76 ever since ana amari and jack morrison died years ago. the twin scars on his face, the "had worse" that he doesn't elaborate on. stories. ]
Sounds like I have a lot of catching up to do. [ she drops down on one knee. ] But first, medicine.
[ this is the part where she moves to take one of his hands. it's not angela's miracle staff, but it does the trick. ]
['Had worse' mostly refers to the fact that he had a building dropped on him Switzerland, yes, but Jack is not about to elaborate on it. She knows what he's thinking, most of the time. All too often she knows what he's thinking before he even thinks it, but they've spent more than half a decade apart, and he thinks they'll have catching up to do for a very long time.
He's a good patient, more than used to being poked and prodded--first in SEP, and then from landing himself in Angela's medbay more than was probably necessary. After a moment of adjustment, some shifting of weight, he holds out his arm.
Jack hopes that needle is going in his arm, at any rate. He turns his head away, having trained himself not to watch the injection site.]
You know how the solo vigilante thing goes.
[It's rough, and you get hurt, and you patch yourself up however you can.]
[ already beside him, ana moves his arm close enough for her to pick a spot. cloth dipped in hot water and alcohol begins to clean up part of it. no need for a sudden shot when not on a chaotic battlefield, distracted by flying bullets and fists.
a hum leaves her throat in response. a few years his senior in that very career, already ana's imagination gives her vague ideas. combine that with the stories of a masked man with white hair and the number seventy six on his back, jack morrison's soul, and the world's situation — ]
Hold still.
[ it's not wild, her thoughts, but the push of the needle is gentle when she still thinks about it. armed and dangerous worldly travelers wearing masks. a story to young children who have no idea.
it's fun to remember what their smiling faces look like, but it's been too long since she's listened to her former commander. before this, and their chance encounter with gabriel — her heart breaks whenever she remembers his face — they'll have catching up to do for a very long time.
the needle is empty now, slipping it out and putting it aside. ]
I do mean certain things. [ because ana isn't without her hears. now, something that's been itching: ] I was contacted a year ago about a target. An expensive one.
[ medicine down. now for his wounds, pulling out clean bandages and setting them aside. a sharp blade shows up in her hand. ]
Los Muertos is still angry up to this day. Something about important shipment being ruined, and a young girl.
[ the target is in front of her. the contract is ripped apart hours after they meet.
carefully, with steady hands, she cuts off old bandages from him. ]
[He doesn’t need to be told to hold still, but he takes a breath in anyway, feeling the pinch of the needle in his arm and the almost immediate relief it provides. The nanotech chases away the ache in his side, taking the edge off the pain. It’s still going to
When Ana mentions Los Muertos, Jack can’t help but tilt his head back a little in a genuine laugh, though it seems stuck in the back of his throat, like he’s sort of forgotten how that was supposed to go. It’s a tired sound, more than anything.]
That’s what I was doing before I came to find you.
[Mucking up the weapons trafficking operations of some low-lifes. Saving little girls. He imagines that if Ana were there for that particular incident, she’d say something about old habits.
Lumérico.
[And whatever it is they were up to. He does his best to remain motionless as she works the blade, helping her peel off the old dressings—partially just to lend a hand, mostly to see the current state of his wound. Better than it would be if he were a normal human, not nearly in the state of healing it would have been in his prime.
[Soldier: 76 is under no illusions about what he's good at versus what he isn't. Asymmetrical warfare? No problem. Delicate hostage extractions? Sure. Saving the world from killer robots? Been there, done that, but combat is about where his expertise ends, stint as a politician-slash-UN posterboy aside. He's long-since come to the conclusion that the UN didn't know what they were thinking, handing him an international peacekeeping force when all he's really useful for is pointing a gun at a target.
But maybe that had been the idea, because that had made it much easier for them to pull his strings. He understands a little better now, six years out from the fall of Overwatch, but that doesn't change the fact that he's a soldier, meant for fighting, and certain things are and have always been out of the realm of his comprehension.
For example, the chronally-dissociated girl anchored to the present time by a device built by a superintelligent moon gorilla. 76 didn't quite understand how Winston managed to pull her out of temporal limbo the first time, and he certainly isn't confident in his ability to fix the current problem, but they don't exactly have a choice. He imagines this might be a larger sort of commentary on his running missions under another identity with a newly-formed, highly illegal Overwatch. Namely, that it's all a bad idea. He wonders if he'll ever learn.
Probably not.
This particular mission--just him and Lena, routine recon--has gone pear-shaped. Of course it has, because he has absolutely zero luck and his life sucks, though not as much as Lena's will if they don't get her damaged chronal accelerator under control. Even when he was Jack Morrison, he remembers wondering whether or not it was a good idea to slap the glowing blue target that keeps her from being a time-ghost right in the middle of her chest, and now he guesses he has his answer.]
I'm gonna need you to walk me through this.
[Because Winston is not here, and the disc is cracked and sparking from the gunfire it took. The idea is to stabilize it, but unfortunately he's all she has right now, on top of the fact that they're effectively pinned by the armed weapons traffickers who want them out of their base. It's not like they have the luxury of time, but better for him to try and stabilize it than attempt to escape, only to lose her when the accelerator gives out. His gloved fingers curl around the outer casing, ready to pry it off so he can get at the inside.]
[ 'There's no such thing as an easy mission.' Those were usually the first words out of Morrison's mouth before the team started a mission. It proved true more often than not. And when a mission went badly for Lena, she always got the same chastisement-- 'your power doesn't make you invulnerable'-- from both Morrison and Angela, albeit phrased differently.
Winston made the Accelerator to take a fair beating but, as he's told her many times, there's no way to make it durable enough to take high-caliber bullets or close-range fire. The ideal materials, he explained, don't exist. The materials he could use could compromise the structural integrity and--
He's very passionate about his invention. Fortunately, Lena made a point of learning how the Accelerator works. It wasn't much different from learning the schematics of a plane, though Winston had to explain a lot of jargon.
One high-caliber bullet to the Accelerator and she's glad she memorized the schematics. She and 76 made it to cover just in time. The distant shouting and haphazard gunfire at anything that moved is background noise as Lena focuses on the most pressing matter. Her accelerator's glow is erratic and the core is sparking. It doesn't take an engineer to know that it's really, really badly damaged. Her blood turns cold and her stomach turns to ice. There are very few things Lena fears and becoming a living ghost again is one of them. It takes all of her time as a test pilot and all of her training in Overwatch to squash down that blind panic and crippling fear. Instead, she leans against the wall, takes a deep breath, and prepares to walk a man she hardly knows through stabilizing the one thing keeping her tethered to the present.
No big deal. This is totally fine. ]
Don't touch the core-- it'll fry you. There's a green wire coming from it. How's it look?
[76 is a bit more intimately familiar with these anxieties than Lena would know, but he tries not to let any of that show as he very carefully pries the casing off the front of the accelerator. He sets it aside and then pulls off his glove, preparing himself for delicate work that he has no idea how to do.
What he does know is that no matter how deep he's tried to bury Jack Morrison, these are still his people. Failing this one is something he will not allow to happen.
After a moment of hovering over the device, taking care not to touch the core as she's warned him, locating the wire she mentions fairly quickly. He feels like he's defusing a bomb.]
[ The tension in her body lingers but she lets out a soft sigh of relief. ]
Very good. It means the connection to the main power is intact. Won't have to figure out how to rewire the system.
[ Which would take time they don't have. Even now, Lena can feel the tug of time-- it's like a soft whisper of wind against her skin. She goes a little pale but her voice stays steady. ]
[He lets out a breath, because yeah, trying to rewire a system he barely understands is the last thing he wants to do. Still, his hands are steady, searching the device for ways to safely dismantle it without touching the core, like she warned him.]
Looks that way.
[76 moves the wire aside, frowning at the obvious cracks in the casing. He knows Lena well enough to recognize when she's swallowing down her anxiety.]
[That's all he really needs to know for this step--he's quick to rid the accelerator of its casing, more-or-less dumping it to the side now that she's affirmed it's not important.
It doesn't mean the situation is any less dire. 76 is keeping an ear out for anyone who might be approaching, but he can only multi-task so much. He likes to think he shines under pressure, though, and he hasn't given up yet, even if the flickering is ominous.]
You with me, Tracer?
[She's nervous, he can tell, not that he thinks she doesn't have a right to be. Now, however, they can't afford any lost seconds.]
[ Lena isn't the type to give up, but she feels her own fear threatening to overtake her. 76's voice and his steadiness keep it at bay. She grips her pistols tighter, ready to fight if they're found. The idea of being a burden is unacceptable to her. ]
If… if this doesn't work, don't stay behind for me, okay? Bein' stuck in time isn't the same as bein' dead.
[ But if they can't bring her back again, it will be worse. ]
[He says that with a surprising amount of conviction for someone who is theoretically supposed to have no real connection to Overwatch or the people in it. Despite how much he tries to distance himself from the late Jack Morrison, he's not going to abandon a teammate, even if she's in danger of slipping away.
Or however the heck that works. He's stubborn--always has been, and he won't throw in the towel just yet, even as he knows they're running out of time.]
[ Lena lets out something like a laugh's second cousin: a twitch of her lips, a soft huff. It could be that he knows that any cooperation with Overwatch is over if he leaves her behind. Or maybe he thinks he needs her backup to get out. But the conviction with which he says it suggests that it's more personal. ]
Careful, love, I'm startin' to think you like me.
[ But the laugh and his assurance pushes her anxiety back a little. Lena focuses, pulling up a mental image of the Accelerator. ]
There are two latches on each side of the core. Release 'em and pull off the cover. There are three blue wires underneath. They all still in one piece?
[Which says something, he thinks, seeing as nobody in the recalled Overwatch really has much reason to trust him. Either way, it's a promise he intends to keep, even as his eyebrows pinch together right at the top of his visor. His hands feel far too large for this kind of delicate work, but he reminds himself as he releases the latches that they're out of options.]
[ She'll have to tell Winston when she gets back, she thinks. He'd be touched by the sentiment.
But that means she has to get back.
The arms dealers are getting close enough that she can make out their rapid-fire Portuguese. She doesn't speak Portuguese but, from the tone of their voices, they're pissed off. Impatient. Ready to shoot on sight. Between that and 76's news, her chances of getting back just dropped.
She presses her lips in a thin line, trying to ignore the ever-insistent pull of time. Focus. ]
Better than none. Best we can do with this kind of damage is stabilize it enough for a few hours.
[ From the tone of her voice, she was hoping it'd be longer. ]
Right, so disconnect the damaged wire if it's not cut already. Might damage the system when we switch over power otherwise.
[All he really has to offer to that is a grunt, because she has no idea. He’s hoping that it won’t come out, though he knows that desperate situations like this one have a habit of going downhill real fast. What he needs to do right now is focus, worming his fingers into the core (taking care not to touch the core itself), finding where the wire connects and unhooking it as gingerly as possible.
The instant it’s out, however, he hears more gunfire that’s far too close for comfort. He spares a glance over their cover, and decides that they’re more than likely have to go. 76 might laugh, if the circumstances weren’t so dire.]
Out of time, kiddo. Arms around my neck, come on.
[They might be out of time, but he still has his own speed on his side, and his new plan is to just carry her the heck out of here. Maybe, if he plays his cards right, they’ll be able to relocate before the accelerator shuts down.]
[ To her credit, she only pauses for a moment. If someone had told her two hours ago that Soldier: 76 would be giving her what amounts to a piggyback ride, she'd have laughed. If the situation weren't so dire, she would burst out laughing right now. Instead, her incredulity shows on her face for only a moment before she does as he says. She keeps one hand free, though, to return fire if she has to. ]
[Lifting Tracer is effortless thanks to his enhanced strength—all she has to do is hold tight around his neck as he peeks out from behind their cover and stands, pushing himself into a sprint with his gun raised. It’s not his ideal situation, of course, not when they’re only half-finished fixing the accelerator, but he holds out the hope that they’ve done enough, and that making an escape won’t jostle the delicate parts further.]
Keep an eye out.
[Because he’s going to concentrate on extricating them from this facility. The instant he makes himself known, there’s a shout in some other language, and he feels gunfire pinging off concrete as he rounds a corner.]
76 | overwatch
so like im breaking in this journal hello
hey there friendo
He's warm, which is good, because the last thing he remembers is being cold, like someone was plunging him into a bathtub full of ice water--which seems appropriate, because he remembers feeling like he was underwater, too, everything slow and muted and finally dark.
It starts to come back to him as he registers his surroundings. He and Ana have been tackling missions together, sabotaging Talon operations when they find them. This particular endeavor went pear-shaped, he thinks, because otherwise why else would he be here, lying prone with the distinct sensation that someone took something very large and heavy to his skull?
When he feels a little more conscious, he takes stock of his surroundings. The nearby is probably why he feels warm, and he's been laid out and made as comfortable as possible, given the fact that they're basically camping out in the middle of the wilderness. He registers a few spent yellow canisters, and Ana sitting nearby.]
Ah--
[When he tries to sit up, the dull ache becomes a sharp lance in his side, reminding him that yes, he took a bullet, and he doesn't heal like he used to, even with assistance from biotic technology. An involuntary curse escapes him when he tries again and realizes that he is not going to be righting himself anytime soon. He cranes his neck instead, trying to get Ana in his field of vision.]
How many times is this now?
[Because he's certainly lost count of every instance she's saved his life, but Ana most definitely keeps track.]
:*!!
it's the sound of pain the draws the captain's attention away from her pink and white teacup partially filled with warm koshary tea. there he is, the man she bandages and breaks one of her own bullets to patch him up for, she supposes, the thousand time before angela cures him completely back at hq. it's not an unfamiliar sight, and even during her absence from the world she's still used to it.
ana amari would do it all over again.
with a raise of her tea cup, scarred like its owner, ] Would you believe I've lost count?
[ to her, that should indicate exactly how many times it's been.
the saucer rests on the ground as her other hand pulls out another dart from her open pouch, the miracle drug inside golden and ready to repair the broken and torn. just in case. a small dose works like charm, painkiller in liquid form. still, ana believes in learning from the pain. that is why she doesn't use it on jack just yet. ]
You can buy me some more tea the next time we're buying supplies. I'm running low on it, Jack.
[ jack, because they're alone and not being watched. jack, because they're still friends even after death.
now, on a more important note, twirling the modified needle in her hand: ]
How are you feeling?
no subject
I'd believe it.
[Makes him wonder how he even managed the solo vigilante thing for so long without Ana watching his back. This is a good reminder that he almost didn't. He tries to sit up again, wincing as he does, but managing it better on the second try. It still takes him a moment to adjust, but he eyes the dart the whole time.]
Doing okay.
[He'll heal--much faster than a normal human, but not quite as quickly as he would if he were twenty-five. Jack has become acutely aware of that in the last few years. He just can't shrug off injury like he used to, and he's pretty sure Ana has picked up on that.]
Had worse.
no subject
shrike wonders about the life of soldier: 76 ever since ana amari and jack morrison died years ago. the twin scars on his face, the "had worse" that he doesn't elaborate on. stories. ]
Sounds like I have a lot of catching up to do. [ she drops down on one knee. ] But first, medicine.
[ this is the part where she moves to take one of his hands. it's not angela's miracle staff, but it does the trick. ]
Tell me what I've missed.
no subject
He's a good patient, more than used to being poked and prodded--first in SEP, and then from landing himself in Angela's medbay more than was probably necessary. After a moment of adjustment, some shifting of weight, he holds out his arm.
Jack hopes that needle is going in his arm, at any rate. He turns his head away, having trained himself not to watch the injection site.]
You know how the solo vigilante thing goes.
[It's rough, and you get hurt, and you patch yourself up however you can.]
no subject
a hum leaves her throat in response. a few years his senior in that very career, already ana's imagination gives her vague ideas. combine that with the stories of a masked man with white hair and the number seventy six on his back, jack morrison's soul, and the world's situation — ]
Hold still.
[ it's not wild, her thoughts, but the push of the needle is gentle when she still thinks about it. armed and dangerous worldly travelers wearing masks. a story to young children who have no idea.
it's fun to remember what their smiling faces look like, but it's been too long since she's listened to her former commander. before this, and their chance encounter with gabriel — her heart breaks whenever she remembers his face — they'll have catching up to do for a very long time.
the needle is empty now, slipping it out and putting it aside. ]
I do mean certain things. [ because ana isn't without her hears. now, something that's been itching: ] I was contacted a year ago about a target. An expensive one.
[ medicine down. now for his wounds, pulling out clean bandages and setting them aside. a sharp blade shows up in her hand. ]
Los Muertos is still angry up to this day. Something about important shipment being ruined, and a young girl.
[ the target is in front of her. the contract is ripped apart hours after they meet.
carefully, with steady hands, she cuts off old bandages from him. ]
no subject
When Ana mentions Los Muertos, Jack can’t help but tilt his head back a little in a genuine laugh, though it seems stuck in the back of his throat, like he’s sort of forgotten how that was supposed to go. It’s a tired sound, more than anything.]
That’s what I was doing before I came to find you.
[Mucking up the weapons trafficking operations of some low-lifes. Saving little girls. He imagines that if Ana were there for that particular incident, she’d say something about old habits.
Lumérico.
[And whatever it is they were up to. He does his best to remain motionless as she works the blade, helping her peel off the old dressings—partially just to lend a hand, mostly to see the current state of his wound. Better than it would be if he were a normal human, not nearly in the state of healing it would have been in his prime.
It worries him more than he’d like to admit.]
no subject
Let me know if this is ok!
But maybe that had been the idea, because that had made it much easier for them to pull his strings. He understands a little better now, six years out from the fall of Overwatch, but that doesn't change the fact that he's a soldier, meant for fighting, and certain things are and have always been out of the realm of his comprehension.
For example, the chronally-dissociated girl anchored to the present time by a device built by a superintelligent moon gorilla. 76 didn't quite understand how Winston managed to pull her out of temporal limbo the first time, and he certainly isn't confident in his ability to fix the current problem, but they don't exactly have a choice. He imagines this might be a larger sort of commentary on his running missions under another identity with a newly-formed, highly illegal Overwatch. Namely, that it's all a bad idea. He wonders if he'll ever learn.
Probably not.
This particular mission--just him and Lena, routine recon--has gone pear-shaped. Of course it has, because he has absolutely zero luck and his life sucks, though not as much as Lena's will if they don't get her damaged chronal accelerator under control. Even when he was Jack Morrison, he remembers wondering whether or not it was a good idea to slap the glowing blue target that keeps her from being a time-ghost right in the middle of her chest, and now he guesses he has his answer.]
I'm gonna need you to walk me through this.
[Because Winston is not here, and the disc is cracked and sparking from the gunfire it took. The idea is to stabilize it, but unfortunately he's all she has right now, on top of the fact that they're effectively pinned by the armed weapons traffickers who want them out of their base. It's not like they have the luxury of time, but better for him to try and stabilize it than attempt to escape, only to lose her when the accelerator gives out. His gloved fingers curl around the outer casing, ready to pry it off so he can get at the inside.]
Anything I should know?
it's perfect ♥ sorry for the delay!
Winston made the Accelerator to take a fair beating but, as he's told her many times, there's no way to make it durable enough to take high-caliber bullets or close-range fire. The ideal materials, he explained, don't exist. The materials he could use could compromise the structural integrity and--
He's very passionate about his invention. Fortunately, Lena made a point of learning how the Accelerator works. It wasn't much different from learning the schematics of a plane, though Winston had to explain a lot of jargon.
One high-caliber bullet to the Accelerator and she's glad she memorized the schematics. She and 76 made it to cover just in time. The distant shouting and haphazard gunfire at anything that moved is background noise as Lena focuses on the most pressing matter. Her accelerator's glow is erratic and the core is sparking. It doesn't take an engineer to know that it's really, really badly damaged. Her blood turns cold and her stomach turns to ice. There are very few things Lena fears and becoming a living ghost again is one of them. It takes all of her time as a test pilot and all of her training in Overwatch to squash down that blind panic and crippling fear. Instead, she leans against the wall, takes a deep breath, and prepares to walk a man she hardly knows through stabilizing the one thing keeping her tethered to the present.
No big deal. This is totally fine. ]
Don't touch the core-- it'll fry you. There's a green wire coming from it. How's it look?
no subject
What he does know is that no matter how deep he's tried to bury Jack Morrison, these are still his people. Failing this one is something he will not allow to happen.
After a moment of hovering over the device, taking care not to touch the core as she's warned him, locating the wire she mentions fairly quickly. He feels like he's defusing a bomb.]
It's intact. Is that good?
no subject
Very good. It means the connection to the main power is intact. Won't have to figure out how to rewire the system.
[ Which would take time they don't have. Even now, Lena can feel the tug of time-- it's like a soft whisper of wind against her skin. She goes a little pale but her voice stays steady. ]
Alright, is the casing around the core damaged?
no subject
Looks that way.
[76 moves the wire aside, frowning at the obvious cracks in the casing. He knows Lena well enough to recognize when she's swallowing down her anxiety.]
Can I take it off?
no subject
Yeah. Don't worry if the casing falls apart-- 's not important.
[ The Accelerator is starting to dim and flicker more frequently. Time is no longer a whisper of wind but instead the tug of the tide. ]
no subject
It doesn't mean the situation is any less dire. 76 is keeping an ear out for anyone who might be approaching, but he can only multi-task so much. He likes to think he shines under pressure, though, and he hasn't given up yet, even if the flickering is ominous.]
You with me, Tracer?
[She's nervous, he can tell, not that he thinks she doesn't have a right to be. Now, however, they can't afford any lost seconds.]
We're gonna fix this.
no subject
If… if this doesn't work, don't stay behind for me, okay? Bein' stuck in time isn't the same as bein' dead.
[ But if they can't bring her back again, it will be worse. ]
no subject
[He says that with a surprising amount of conviction for someone who is theoretically supposed to have no real connection to Overwatch or the people in it. Despite how much he tries to distance himself from the late Jack Morrison, he's not going to abandon a teammate, even if she's in danger of slipping away.
Or however the heck that works. He's stubborn--always has been, and he won't throw in the towel just yet, even as he knows they're running out of time.]
Tell me what's next.
no subject
Careful, love, I'm startin' to think you like me.
[ But the laugh and his assurance pushes her anxiety back a little. Lena focuses, pulling up a mental image of the Accelerator. ]
There are two latches on each side of the core. Release 'em and pull off the cover. There are three blue wires underneath. They all still in one piece?
no subject
[Which says something, he thinks, seeing as nobody in the recalled Overwatch really has much reason to trust him. Either way, it's a promise he intends to keep, even as his eyebrows pinch together right at the top of his visor. His hands feel far too large for this kind of delicate work, but he reminds himself as he releases the latches that they're out of options.]
I got two intact.
[He imagines that isn't good news.]
no subject
[ She'll have to tell Winston when she gets back, she thinks. He'd be touched by the sentiment.
But that means she has to get back.
The arms dealers are getting close enough that she can make out their rapid-fire Portuguese. She doesn't speak Portuguese but, from the tone of their voices, they're pissed off. Impatient. Ready to shoot on sight. Between that and 76's news, her chances of getting back just dropped.
She presses her lips in a thin line, trying to ignore the ever-insistent pull of time. Focus. ]
Better than none. Best we can do with this kind of damage is stabilize it enough for a few hours.
[ From the tone of her voice, she was hoping it'd be longer. ]
Right, so disconnect the damaged wire if it's not cut already. Might damage the system when we switch over power otherwise.
no subject
The instant it’s out, however, he hears more gunfire that’s far too close for comfort. He spares a glance over their cover, and decides that they’re more than likely have to go. 76 might laugh, if the circumstances weren’t so dire.]
Out of time, kiddo. Arms around my neck, come on.
[They might be out of time, but he still has his own speed on his side, and his new plan is to just carry her the heck out of here. Maybe, if he plays his cards right, they’ll be able to relocate before the accelerator shuts down.]
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Got your six.
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Keep an eye out.
[Because he’s going to concentrate on extricating them from this facility. The instant he makes himself known, there’s a shout in some other language, and he feels gunfire pinging off concrete as he rounds a corner.]
Don’t let go.
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