bakerstreet | ( picture prompt meme )

[She nods in acknowledgement, running a cleaning patch through the barrel before holding it up to the light and looking through it.]

I suppose you have questions for me.

[She glances at Jack, checking for a reaction.]

Truth be told, I have a few for you, too.

[And now she sets the barrel down on her lap, interlacing her hands atop it.]

How did you find me?

[She's purposefully kept a low profile around here. If there's a leak that could compromise her, she wants to know about it.]

Instinct.

[ it's not the best response, frankly, and he might get scolded for it, but it's the only one he has. all of his reconnaissance has led him to believe that the ghost they refer to is really a ghost of his past. ]

Most snipers go for head shots. Quicker, easier, cleaner. If they don't, they either like the mess, or they find it difficult to execute. Wind patterns, the target's surroundings changing before they're ready, low skill level, or a disability.

[ he glances at her eyepatch, then looks down at her hands. she is good at what she does, like him, but he knows her, knows her struggles with dehumanizing targets to make a kill easier to swallow. ]

A rookie would balk at a job after botching it, but the sniper they like referring to as Ghost is a professional through and through. That's assuming the Ghost isn't some sick asshole that toys with their targets. Considering that Hakim is the endgame, I had them pegged as a better person than that. [ then, in a low voice: ] And I don't know a better person than you, Ana.

[ so, he hoped. it's actually one of his better moments lately, which is saying something. ]

[She smiles.] You give me too much credit.

[But she doesn't overtly object, at least, and she moves on to cleaning the chamber of fouling.] But you always did have good instincts.

[Or maybe he was just lucky. Hard to say.

She pauses for a bit, sighing as she regards the trigger assembly.]

Hakim isn't the endgame, not really. He's just a mid-level gun-runner working with Talon. I want his bosses. Putting a wrench in his operations might draw them out.

[A shake of the head.]

But enough about me. [She glances up at him with her eye.] A dead man like yourself has a lot of time to account for.

[She leans back on the couch, hands in her lap.]

What happened at the Swiss headquarters?

[It's not strictly necessary for him to answer - she got the general idea from the news reports, but there are always details left out of those.]

[ he knows she would ask, of course, but there is nothing for him to give no real prepared answer. his memory is intact, even after the chaos of the explosion, of his identity as jack morrison buried with confrontation that took place that day -- but he doesn't quite know what to say, doesn't know what she'd want to hear. ]

It was a long time coming, Ana. [ he leans back on his seat, and his voice is -- defeated, almost. resigned. he has asked himself this question so many times, and he comes back with empty hands and a hollow feeling in his chest. betrayal, maybe, or regret. ] He started changing, started pulling away from everyone else, from me, and -- so did I, I think. I didn't trust him, I didn't trust what I'd do if I did.

[ it's like a confession, whispered to the dead. things he's never said out loud to anyone else, and probably never will. they threw away their friendship, for things that probably weren't as important; it came with a heavy cost. ]

When I look back, I sometimes wish that you'd been there, but. [ he shakes his head. ] I'm glad you weren't.

[It was a long time coming, truth be told. Honestly, Ana is more surprised that it took as long as it did. Reyes's pride was the catalyst, of course - even before she was left for dead, she could sense the divisions within the team, a fracturing at the base, originating with him.

Could she have done something if she were there? Hard to say. Best not to dwell on it. Let the dead bury their dead.]

Yes. [A slight nod, then, wistfully:] Perhaps it was for the best that I wasn't.

[It's the only preamble she gives as she leans forward once more and begins reassembling the rifle. Her hands are quick and practiced, and soon it is as if it were never taken apart to begin with.]

You are here now, and well. That is what matters.

[Maybe not "well", but - he can walk, he can talk, he can shoot. Ana will take what she can get.

Gently, she hefts it onto her lap, taking a soft cleaning rag to the exterior.]

What of Angela and the others?

[She makes a point of staying off the grid. Her informants bring her news of little beyond Egypt's borders. It's like an itch that must be scratched.]

Last I heard, the good doctor's in the Middle East, doing what she does best. [ he doubted that there was anything else they expected, though. ] When everyone else separated from the pack, made noise through odd jobs here and there. Especially Reinhardt, you know how he is. He's back in action, and happy about it. I doubt he actually went and retired peacefully in the first place.

[ he lists down those people he remembers to have died after ana herself was presumed dead, then of little tidbits that he's had the privilege of learning. winston in gilbratar, lena in london, tobjörn in russia. so on, and so forth.

after taking a breath, he moves his shoulder around in a clockwise motion, making sure nothing's too broken, and he can feel that arm. it's been wonderfully healed, although he expected nothing else from those biotic darts that angela herself helped made possible. ]

That rifle, Ana... That's one of Tobjörn's prototypes, isn't it?

[Ana smiles.] Your eyes are as sharp as ever, I see.

[She angles it upward by the barrel so Jack can see more of it.] It's the biotic rifle he worked with Angela on. I believe he sent you and Reyes blueprints of it a while ago.

[Then, as she lets it back down into her lap and gets back to cleaning the exterior:] It can fire quite a variety of munitions - as you yourself have seen. It also breaks down easily, when I need it to. If I must move across the city discreetly, I hide the barrel in a hollowed-out cane, the scope and magazines in a pouch at the small of my back, and the stock and receiver under my coat. Nobody here looks twice at a one-eyed beggar woman.

[Her expression falls.] But that may not work anymore. The whole city will be on edge after what happened at Hakim's today.

If I ask, would you come with me?

[ he came here on a hunch, without expectation on what's waiting for him. what he finds are old friends, one he let slip away, the other returning from the grave. it's a lot to take in, in only a day. ]

I need to know what happened, Ana. I need to know why we — why and how I failed.

[She's quiet for a while, eye fixed on the coffee table as she ponders his words. Overwatch failed, of course, there's no disputing that - what is in dispute is the cause of that failure. Jack, of course, blames himself, and she can't honestly say she's surprised. He's always taken to heart that the buck stops with the commanding officer.

But to let it weigh him down like this, to let it consume him - it could be dangerous.

As for herself, well - she has her suspicions, even if she doesn't voice them. Reyes was a good soldier, but he was never short on pride. Being passed over for command of the task force was the beginning of the rift that led to the end. Letting him run Blackwatch only widened that rift.

When she speaks again, her words are slow and measured.]

I think, Jack, that you will not like what awaits you at the end of this road. It will cost you more than you realize in ways you cannot yet fathom. It could change you into one of the monsters you hunt.

[She looks up at him, her gaze unflinching.]

It may very well prove to be your end.

[After a moment, she stands, rifle cradled to her chest, and nods.]

But I will follow you down it nonetheless.

[ memories flash in his head, clear as day — when he met ana and reyes — gabe, his mind supplies, treacherous and melancholy with it — and felt the whole world slot into place like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle connected at last. that magic is gone now, but its essence lingers from beyond their graves. ]

That doesn't deter me.

[ the price of victory, but at a cost, and he is only too aware that it might just be his downfall. it doesn't stop the thirst for the truth, for justice undelivered to be uncovered and put right. overwatch was an institution he believed in, once upon a time. he's turned away from its cause ever since, but hasn't stop becoming the greatest motivator of his life.

he might not like what he finds, he might not even live long enough to start, but as the saying goes, the truth will always set you free. ]

A new war's brewing, Ana. No one likes to talk about it, but us soldiers know: it's only a matter of time. We don't need history repeating itself.

[ he looks at his hands, calloused and tried by fire, tracing the veins on the back of it with his eyes. ]

What about Fareeha?

[And now it is Ana's turn to be silent as she reminiscences. Memories dart through her consciousness like mayflies, and for a moment she palms the small holo-projector just inside her coat.]

She hasn't needed me for a long time.

[She hasn't been able to be with Fareeha every step of the way, of course, but she's done her best to keep tabs on her - first as she rose through the officer ranks, then to retirement and a job with Helix. Even now, pride swells within her chest as she thinks about it, until she's about ready to burst - but she tamps it down.]

Maybe someday, God willing, I will have a chance to explain myself to her. I cannot imagine she will readily forgive me.

[And now she gives in, taking the holo-projector out of her coat. A press of a button, and a holographic projection of a young Fareeha is produced from the base of it. Ana stares at it before deactivating it and returning it to her coat pocket.]

Those who stand ready against the evils of this world must make sacrifices, Jack. You know this as well as I.

[ if he were that kind of person, he'd say, she needs you all the time, but he isn't. it's a family affair that he has no right to step into, and he imagines that neither woman would appreciate that all that much. he has no experience to call on when it comes to rearing a child, what advice could he possibly give? ]

She's done well for herself.

[ he keeps tabs on her, too, the once bright young child that clung to her mother's uniform and smiled at them like they were the heroes from her bedtime stories. she is a child of their time, raised not only by her mother, but by the men and women surrounding them, fighting the wars to give children like her a chance for a better life.

she is part of the future he continues to live for. he doesn't what her to live through the bullshit he and ana did. ]

She takes after you.

[Try as she might, she can't quite stop the tremor, ever-so-slight, that takes to her bottom lip.]

So I've heard.

[She bows her head, hand going to trace the tattoo under her good eye. She's quiet for a while, and when she speaks again, it is barely above a whisper.]

I never wanted that life for her, Jack. I fought so she wouldn't have to.

[A quiet sigh, then:]

I imagine you heard us fighting over it more than once. She's stubborn, like you. I just-

[A quick pause to collect her thoughts - then she looks up at Jack.]

I don't want to be the one burying her. It wouldn't be right.

[ perhaps a part of that was jack morrison all along, being who he is. someone brave and inspiring. headstrong. he didn't purposely set out an example, but he recognizes that he was seen as a hero, some sort of moral compass that pointed at children to do the right thing, always. but what's the right thing in jack's morrison's world? taking names, kicking asses, firing bullets one after another? killing?

it's a soldier's world, is what it is. ]

We've always tried to keep this world safe for her, for every child.

[ keyword is tried, of course. ]

We still can. We haven't kicked the bucket yet.

[She shakes her head.] You're missing the point, Jack. I-

[Then, a quiet sigh through her nose. What's the point in nattering over semantics?

After a beat, she withdraws the projector from her coat again and activates it, staring at the hologram of Fareeha produced from the base.]

She wrote beautiful poetry, you know.

[She glances to Jack.]

I would have liked to see her go down that road.

[She permits himself a moment more of reflection - then tucks the projector back into her coat.]

Let's go.

( picture prompt meme )

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sorry for the late tag :)

s'ok!