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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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?

Okay, first off— can you stop saying 'body' when you're talking about me?

[One hand's lifted, pressed protectively to the center of her chest— index finger prodding at her own sternum.]

I was still me.

[Her curled claws relax, flexing only momentarily as she slides around the counter at last to pull up a seat beside the sniper, bare toes curling where they press against the stool's lower support rung. She exhales once, shoulders slumping— leaning in by degrees.]

Wish I could tell you I had all the answers, Araña. Sometimes things don't make sense to me, too.

[Amélie rolled her eyes. She was just specifying which part of the hacker she'd been keeping clean. It's not like she could do anything for the cybernetics or the possible state of Sombra's mind. Just being technical. But fine. Whatever. Sombra was awake anyway and that's what was important.

The sniper made no move to stop Sombra from sitting down next to her. Leaning forward, Amélie rest her chin on her folded hands.]

You always act like you do. Regardless, there are countless things for you to do here with all this technology and secrets buried in the bowels of the Avagi. I just kill people.

You said it yourself: doing stuff isn't the same as it having meaning, you know?

[She couldn't care less about the secrets buried here— the last time she went digging into secrets that didn't come from Earth, she only wound up shocked raw from the revelations that followed. False realities, fake injuries, the kind of prison you don't escape from.

Maybe that's selfish of her. Or stupid, pretending this place is real.

For now, she's picking her battles.]

[There was a very long silence from Amélie, her eyes closed, as she mulled her thoughts over. Lacking purpose was eating at her, but she was going to find ways to mitigate it. Somehow.]

...so what are you doing to fulfill your purpose here?

[At that, Sombra leans in, pressing her elbow gently against Amélie's side, as though sharing some unknown secret:]

Annoying you.

[The moment that elbow touched her, eyes opening to look over at Sombra, Amélie knew whatever was going to come out of the hacker's mouth was going to be either a lie or misdirection. It seemed it was likely both. It figured: she asked a serious question and got nothing back in return. It was practically the same as what happened with Reaper. Lying was the same as breathing to Sombra; Amélie was used to it, but that didn't mean it didn't bother her when she's seeking a real answer - as rare as that was...]

Mission accomplished. [Her response was incredibly dry and she rolled her eyes, getting to her feet.]

I'm going to take a shower and try to decide what to do about Lena learning things she is not supposed to know. Try not to eat us out of house and home in the meantime.

Wait, wait— [Sombra snaps, chuckling softly as she lurches forward to grab her companion's wrist before she has the chance to slip away entirely. Her grip is firm enough to hold, but not painful— though once her laughter subsides, there's something uniquely sober in her expression.

Something she tries to hide in the edge of a soft smile.]

I'm serious, hermosa.

You think I don't like spending time with you? It keeps me sane.

[That was...odd. Amélie looked down, but not at Sombra's hand encircling her wrist, but at her own arm. Despite the warmth transferring from the hand to her cool flesh, goosebumps had risen across her skin. Fingers subtly curled in and she suppressed a twitch of her forearm muscles.]

I don't know what to think anymore. You are as easy to understand as Chaos Theory, chérie. You confuse me. You are an opportunist. I have spent so much time being a factor in your agenda, watching you gain and lose trust in the most breathtaking inelegant dance, that I cannot discern the difference between calculated ploys and honest emotion from you.

[Her eyes turned back to Sombra, brow creased as she struggled to express herself.]

Likely that is due to my own lacking, my... emptiness. But it does not help when I am always guessing at your motivations. When I can't not do it. Even when I may want to take something at face value; I'm not built that way.

Then think about it like this: [Sombra draws her closer, pulling via the grip she's keeping on Amélie's arm, her fingers curling with a gentle pressure.]

We're stuck here for who knows how long, with no reliable way to get home. I could screw with you, sure, but if I did? I wouldn't get anything out of it.

[Her opposite hand slips in, fingers lacing through Amélie's own in a gentle show of sincerity- her eyeline dropping to watch the slow slide of her neon claws. Not focused, not malicious, just... there.]

We're an entire universe away from Talon, LaCroix. I've got no ploys.

[At the soft scraping of claws against her palm as Sombra unfurled the sniper's fingers to slip her own between them, Amélie turned her own eyes to their hands. She understood the oddness from before, finding that she must have been missing the physical contact from Sombra - live, controlled touches from the hacker as opposed to just her lying as she had before when unconscious.

Yet another thing Sombra pulled to Amélie's awareness that she preferred not having been made aware of; all the little things were building up and each realization made them increasingly foreign feeling and harder to deal with. Still, tingles traveled up her hand, her own fingers curling just slightly, almost in reflex, against Sombra's.]

Just your own personal amusement. [Which was often enough motivation for the hacker.] But you also don't play to lose; you always want something. I don't understand why on Kaittos you-- [She paused, frowning a bit as she aborted the beginning of an unconscious attempt to draw Sombra to her feet using their clasped hands.]

Talon is still here, Sombra. [Talon was always there, inside her head.] Reaper is here, therefore the Council is here.

I told you. I don't think you're just a máquina.

[Sombra slides out of the chair of her own accord, as if already reading Amélie's wants— she isn't all-seeing, of course, but the way she reads flickers and twitches, those little muscular movements, it comes close.

Her thumb scuffs over LaCroix's own, breathing low and steady and calm.]

Gabe's not the Council. He's got his own reasons, and believe me, I can handle him.

[A beat, and then:] I can handle anything.

Then you are a fool. [Amélie swallowed hard, forcing herself to remain rooted where she was, even with Sombra standing so close.]

It is safer for everyone to stop this. [Whatever it was.] Do you even realize how long ago it was that I last even remotely considered something like--

You are going to get yourself killed... And I don't want to be the one pulling the trigger.

Edited 2018-02-16 14:37 (UTC)

Nah, you won't. [She sounds so sure of it, reeling in her grip like a fishing line— drawing it up, up over her shoulder to rest their intertwined fingers against the soft feathers braided into her hair.]

You said so yourself. I like to win, right?

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