thisavrou_log | [closed] Wake Me Up

Entry tags:

[closed] Wake Me Up

Who: Sombra + Talon
When: post-December everything
Where: living quarters
What: Sombra's systems finally finish repairing the damage, and a certain hacker wakes up from a month-long sleep
Warnings: super brief mention of needles, otherwise NA!

[Waking up feels like pushing up against stone. Like her limbs are made of sheet rock and her bones are all brittle underneath, and it starts with a groan that's dry in her mouth— bitter and stale, but when she winces, it all gets marginally easier. Like her mind's adjusting even if her body isn't: an understanding of the map that starts at her head and ends at her toes as they curl. As her eyes slowly crack open to a hazy mess of dim color— and then focus. Focus.

There's a sting in the crook of her arm, a sharp pinch that draws her attention as soon as she's capable of processing it, one hand slapping down instinctively and dragging the culprit loose— a needle, the connecting strands of tape— an IV. An IV?

How long has she been out?

Sitting up in clothes that aren't hers, braided hair pulled back and flecked with...feathers? Another groggy yawn has her pausing, and turning, and noticing someone else curled up beside her. It's not exactly unexpected: there's limited living space, and Sombra's been bunking with Amélie ever since they moved in (Gabe gets the office, along with a bed of his own— and an independence that probably sits well with his reclusive taste) but it's what Amélie is clutching in her arms that's unusual. A square piece of paper held tight between slender fingers.

Sombra's careful when she reaches over to tug it loose, violet eyes widening for a beat— then narrowing— her lips thinning out in a tight line as its contents are committed thoughtfully to memory. As she flicks her attention towards the empty bottle on the bedside table, quietly pressing the photograph down on the covers and slipping off the bed to set bare feet on the floor. She could wake Widowmaker up, sure, but considering what she's just seen? The spider probably wouldn't be happy about it. She's better off dreaming, waking up on her own, and having at least a sliver of a doubt that Sombra saw anything at all.

And Sombra's better off finding some food in their kitchen before her growling stomach wakes the dead.]

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[Of course, Amélie took Sombra's reaction as something different than it really was. Inadvertently feeding what the hacker was discovering...]

--will not allow anyone not authorized by Talon near your cybernetics while you are indisposed. [finishing the sentence for Sombra.] Unless ordered by Command. That is correct.

...though I may have asked for the order if your hardware's malfunction was putting your brain at clear risk. I am... pleased that the ice packs kept it from boiling. Though I may question that if you keep looking at me like something just broke inside of you.

Tch, not yet.

[Again, she scrubs a hand up along the back of her neck, through the tangled lines of her own circuitry and strands of outgrown hair. It still feels a little out of place— a little mangled by blunt force— but there's energy humming through that thick wiring, and her thoughts (aside from running quick and heavy) are clear.

She's fine. She's always fine.

Only this time, it's because of them.]

I'm guessing Gabe did the heavy lifting and decided to stick to himself.

Edited 2018-01-18 09:24 (UTC)

[Amélie gave a soft snort.] Heavy lifting? Non, chérie, I carried you from the hallway... Most of the way, at least. You are heavier than you look.

[All those augmentations and metal.]

He helped the few times I requested it, but otherwise left you to me.

[Guilty. Brooding— reclusive in ways that show a deeper kind of investment, like the way he gets when he's thinking about Morrison. About Amari. About all of his past, really.

Confirmation of all her suspicions.

Or at least the ones involving him. Amélie is a different story: she says she's involved for all the right reasons in Talon's watchful eyes, but there are cracks in that story. Little hints (like before, on the beach) that there's so much more to it than that.]

Must have been hard on you, spending so much time with me.

Agonizing. I have never been so bored in my life. [Words delivered completely deadpan as Amélie broke off a piece of sweet bread, making it impossible to tell if she was being facetious or not.]

Usually when I am forced to be around you so much, you at least carry a conversation, whether I want to hear it or not. For being so small, you tend to fill up a space with your presence.

[And Amélie had missed that.]

So you did miss me.

[It's easy to say it out loud, less easy to dwell on it in the moment. She'll do that later, when she's alone, sorting out all the fine details of what's really happened to her over the span of the last month. Over what that thing really was that attacked her.

And why.]

[Amélie refused to admit that out loud. Instead she simply stared at Sombra a moment then rolled her eyes.]

The quiet was nice. It presented an avenue for thought.

[Lots of thought, both good and bad.]

[It's a segue Sombra's content to take, already tucking the last of the nutrient block between her teeth and her cheek on one side, reaching again for the next packet of snacks.]

About what?

[Sombra better end up swallowing that last bit of nutrient block; the spider was watching, even as she nibbled on the sweet bread.]

Too many things. I have not been a fan of being left alone with my own thoughts for the last couple years. Lots of white noise.

You could have talked to Gabe. Asked him to stick around for a while.

[Sure, he's not the best at conversation, but he's better than nothing. Better than most of Talon and their creepy, overinvested, power-grabbing vibes.]

I tried. [She attempted to cover her dismay with another nibble on the sweet bread. It did nothing to disguise the slight tension at the corner of her eyes.]

I have found most people have no desire to hold conversations with their weapons.

He doesn't think of you like that.

[...probably.

Sometimes with him, it's hard to tell. But Sombra likes to think she's not too far off the mark after all the time they've spent together— both here and back on earth. She cracks into the wrapping around the Kaittan's particularly sweet bread still clutched in her fingers, picking at it in mild consideration.]

[Amélie gave an unamused snort at that.]

He practically told me that when I asked him why he treats me exactly the same as the rest of the Council.

Hermosa, he says a lot of things.

[She lifts the bread, having carved out a slit in its front that's long and deep enough to play the part of someone else's (Gabe's) mouth: pinching it between her fingers so that it 'talks' in time with the sound of her voice.]

Sombra stop painting the walls.

I never asked for this.

I'm not sad. Leave me alone.

Not everything I own is the color black. Stop judging me.

This was different. [Amélie's eyes took on the distant look they got when she was refusing to acknowledge what might be stirring underneath - something not entirely done by choice.]

I reminded him that he knew Amélie LaCroix before. The only one of the Council that did, and yet...

[She turned her face away from Sombra, resting her cheek in a propped up hand.] Apparently wanting to know why was insinuating I wanted special treatment and it's 'just business'.

I mean, it kind of is special treatment.

[Sombra chuckles when she says it, but there's no real humor to be found. The bread-Gabriel's set down on the counter, her forearms resting on either side to bracket its position, letting her lean across the distance between them by a few more natural inches.] Not just for you— for both of us.

We're his team. To him? That's pretty important...

Just don't expect him to admit it out loud.

You do not understand.

[Amélie's face scrunched up, nose wrinkling at the distaste at actually voicing what she was going to need to to make Sombra understand. It was practically painful to her. The hacker was never going to let her forget it.]

...you are only one that has any idea what I really am that bothers to talk to me like I... Like I exist as anything other than death.

[And as much as she wanted to not look at Sombra, she did with those eerie eyes of hers.]

[For a moment there's a flicker of surprise in Sombra's expression, but it's shortlived— segueing easily into something that isn't exactly readable (it's too subtle for that, the softness settled across her features, the lack of substantial curve in her smile) but sincere all the same.]

That's what I do.

[For Dorado, for Los Muertos, for Gabe—

For the woman that used to be LaCroix.]

But I'm glad you finally figured it out.

[Now there was a rare thing - visible surprise on Sombra's face. And then there was what her face settled on. Amélie wasn't sure she'd ever seen it on the hacker before. It made her... uneasy, but not in a bad way. It just bothered her, she just didn't know why.]

I wish you didn't and I had not. [She looked down at the mess between them on the table.] Then I would not be aware of its absence.

Hey, it's not like it was forever.

[Coaxing and reassuring, Sombra's voice turns soft as she says it, though she's wearing a grin that's meant to be a brace against...something. Fear, maybe.

Whatever Amélie is currently fighting back.]

That's not what I meant. A part of it, oui, but more as a cause than the actual...

[Amélie reached out to nudge 'bread Gabe' with a finger.]

...I do not like having my shortcomings shoved in my face. Ignorance really is bliss.

[There's a quiet kind of silence that settles over them in that moment— Sombra folding her arms as she watches LaCroix busy herself with an idle distraction. A human response.]

You were lonely.

[The response was immediate.]

Bored. Restless. [Amélie took her hand back, folding it before her with a frown.] There is nothing to do on this station.

[Her mouth twists up at the corner, though her voice stays soft— violet eyes still fixed on Amélie herself.]

For the record, amiga? That's what loneliness feels like.

[Her eyes narrowed a little - a defensive action.]

I have spent countless hours in different countries than you. I do not need you.

[It was just... Sombra had always been just a quick call away, once she had been recruited by Talon and assigned to the spider's team. Amélie never really did randomly contact Sombra - every communique always had a tangible purpose - but she was always, well, there. Capable of responding back.

Her fingers curled in.]

I tried to find things to do when I wasn't keeping your body clean or making sure your vitals were stable. Tried to not kill Lena for being Lena. Tried to talk to Reaper about things that have been bothering me. Tried to keep Vetra from drowning in the flooding. Tried to figure out what you and Reaper have been keeping from me. Tried to keep the vermin that have decided to nest with for warmth away. Even tried to give some stupid depressed teenager direction.

Nothing helped. I have no purpose here. What use is a weapon that is locked away in a closet?

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