justice_from_above: (pic#10326701)
Pharah ([personal profile] justice_from_above) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet 2016-12-19 06:42 pm (UTC)

I hope it's somewhere nice.

[Small talk. Painfully forced, softly spoken small talk, because she can start to feel the full bloom of consequences as they travel on. She's dead, she died, Jack's dead, her mother's alive, she let her down, she let them all down, there's no way she can help any of them now, she failed, in the end nothing mattered because she failed.]

[It's something of a blessing and curse having Jack sitting next to her. He'd already died for a while back home, and when he reemerged as 76 and she discovered the truth, it was a boon to have him back again; every day was a gift. He was a rock. As the same time, he was an idol; someone she'd looked up to and aspired to be. She didn't want him to see her break down.]

[But the weight of realization is becoming oppressive. Details of her death are starting to come back to her as she looks out the windows, the sheer stupidity of one moment; one overconfident, cocky attempt. She should have held back. She should have waited for backup.]

[Her hands flex, tightening with each new revelation.]


Do you think ... do you think we'll see our friends there?

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